anything but a date ; wing spiker vers.
summary: he's your roommate and finds out you have a date with someone that's not him. he doesn't cope well. wing spiker edition. pairing: various hq wing spikers x reader (asahi, fukunaga, iwaizumi, kyotani, bokuto, ushijima, osamu, aran, sakusa) note from sunnie: some of these are very self indulgent don't @ me. also brat tamer iwaizumi supremacy. cursing in Kyotani's part because you can't convince me this guy doesn't say fuck.
setter vers.
Asahi Azumane isn't someone who can really hide what he's feeling.
You've known that since before you moved in together, of course, but now it's abundantly clear as you watch him nervous pace the length of your shared apartment.
He hasn't even been able to look at you since the moment you let slip that you're going on a date with someone from work.
"Asahi, can you help me with my heels?"
You can't miss the way his broad shoulders flinch when you call out his name, distracting him from his task of pretending to clean the same spot on the counter over and over. He nods, stiffly, and you watch with a thinly suppressed grin as he shakily makes his way to where you're sitting on the edge of the couch, strappy heels in hand.
"How—how late are you going to be out?" His voice wavers, even as he drops to his knees before you. Large hands delicately take your heels from you, and you feel your face flush from the gentleness he cradles your ankle with.
"I don't know," You hum, thoroughly enjoying the way Asahi is on his knees and putting your heels on for you. He's so reverent, even though his face is burning red and you think he might even be sweating. "Not all night, at least. You don't have to wait up for me, though."
"Okay," He nods, probably too many times for it to be just casual. His hands are shaking as he fixes the strap on your heel and moves to your other foot.
You have half a mind to call off the whole date just by the way he’s looking at you, and he hasn't even told you hates the idea of you going like you know he so desperately wants to.
He finishes his task dutifully, and you study him in silence. The slight crease between his brows, the way his long hair has hastily been tied into a knot at the base of his neck. He's grown out the facial hair recently, just enough to be more than scruff on his chin. Your face warms the longer you watch him, heart thumping in your chest as you contemplate how you really want to spend your evening.
Definitely not with someone other than your pretty roommate that puts your shoes on for you.
"Asahi," You call out, voice quiet as he finishes closing the strap on your second heel. He glances up, face hot, but makes no move to get off his knees before you. A smile quirks your lips. "Do you want me to go on this date?"
"I-I—I would never tell you what you can and cannot do!" He squeaks, absolutely crumbling the moment you put any pressure on him. His hands are raised as if claiming innocence, and you can hear the panic in his voice. "You're free do to whatever you want! It doesn't matter what I want!"
He's so unbelievably bad at lying to you, it's honestly sweet.
"But I'm asking," You press, leaning forward on the couch. You're so unused to being taller than him, you're honestly a little drunk on the power of making him look up at you. "So, do you?"
He freezes, rugged face staring at you with a wobbly confidence you've come to expect from him. You match him head on, not backing down or letting him think you're just toying with him.
"No, I don't want you to go."
He's honest. Voice more certain than you've ever heard him. You're absolutely smirking.
"Can you take off my heels? I don't need them if I'm staying here with you."
Shohei Fukunaga is a really good roommate.
He's quiet, and kind, and makes you laugh without ever really trying to. You really had no chance against falling for him, as weird as he can be at times.
But he's a good roommate, and you can't risk losing your friendship and making your living situation unbelievably awkward, so you settle for pining from afar and agreeing to host a movie date at your apartment that you really don't want to do.
And Shohei, as good as he is, gives you your space when your date comes over. It's a shared space, so you don't expect him to be invisible, but he does spend majority of the evening in his room.
You're so not feeling the guy, so you're practically looking for any reason to urge him out the door. Luckily, you're able to send a text to Shohei, practically pleading with him to help you.
What you're not expecting, in any possible scenario, is for Shohei to come into the living room and sit uncomfortably close to your date. Wide, dark eyes are pinned on your guest overstaying his welcome, and you can only watch in vaguely amused horror as Shohei makes your date visibly uncomfortable.
"Can I... help you, dude?" He asks, watching Shohei out of the corner of his eyes and sitting much more straighter in his seat.
"Nah," Shohei tells him casually. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing out loud, but nothing can stop the giggle that breaks free.
What follows is ten minutes of awkward silence that makes you fall even more in love with Shohei. He doesn't move an inch from his spot beside your quote unquote date, pressuring him with just his presence to leave your apartment without being overly confrontational.
Plus, you think it's really funny.
Inevitably, your date shifts in his seat and turns to face you. The palm of your hand is smushed against your lips to try and smother your grin, but you know you're doing a poor job at it.
"I'm... going to head out." Your date says, addressing you and pointedly ignoring the steady presence on his other side.
"Okay," Shohei answers before you can even think of something to say.
"I wasn't talking to you," The guy snaps, though he sounds more confused by the turn of events than angry, honestly. Shohei, predictably, just watches as the guy stands to leave.
"Well, bye!" You chirp, jumping up to walk him to the door. It's a little awkward, watching him take off so suddenly, but you've been wishing he was out of your apartment for the past half an hour. When the door shuts behind your guest, you return to the couch where your roommate is still sitting. "Thank you, Shohei."
"Don't worry about it." He's so casual, always, but he definitely looks calmer now that it's just the two of you. It's not always the easiest to tell the differences in his expressions, but you like to think you're pretty well versed in all things Shohei. "Do you want to watch a movie with me instead?"
He's already picking up the remote, and you sigh as you lean closer to him on the couch.
"I should have just asked you to hang out, instead."
Hajime Iwaizumi is horribly stubborn.
You're not used to being the subject of his stubbornness, though. Typically he lets you do what you please, smile on your face as he takes care of the minor details.
"Not happening."
"It's not a big deal, Hajime!" You groan, stomping towards the front door of your shared apartment. You can't help but feel a little bit like a petulant child, but you've been arguing with your roommate for the better part of twenty minutes. "I can just walk there! It's not even that dark out yet."
He doesn't relent, though you didn't really expect him too.
Hajime just follows dutifully after you, tugging your coat off the hook to help you put it on like it's second nature. And to him, you think it honestly might be. He's always doted on you with a silent gentleness rare others in his life get to experience.
You're trying, desperately, to hang onto the independent front you're putting up. He's not making it easy, what with the way he trails after you out the door, a low warning humming low in his throat when you act like you're not going to wait for him to lock up the apartment. Sighing, you pause, acting like his care is some big inconvenience.
"What kind of loser date isn't picking you up with flowers, anyways?" He huffs, and you choose not to respond and he positions himself on the sidewalk between you and the traffic.
Nothing of note happens on the walk to your date, save for the fact that you spend half the trek thinking about how Hajime would make the perfect boyfriend and the other half wishing he was your boyfriend.
The problem comes at the end of your date.
You barely make it three steps outside of the restaurant before Hajime appears out of nowhere, as steady as always, if not a little irritated.
"Please tell me you didn't wait out here the whole time," Your hands are shoved deep in your pockets. You really hope you're doing a good job of hiding how much you're glad he's standing before you, but you doubt you are. Hajime's always had a certain ability to tell when you're not being honest with him, and he uses it to his advantage.
"No, there's a twenty-four seven coffee shop across the street. I figured any guy that's not picking you up probably wasn't going to drop you off." He shrugs, studying your face closely. Ducking your chin, you take the first step towards your shared apartment. He falls in step immediately, crease between his masculine brows. "Short dinner."
You wince. No surprise he picked up on it, but you hadn't been counting on him waiting for your dinner to end.
"I left early." You admit, hoping that your voice sounds steadier than you feel. You hear him hum, feel his eyes studying your profile. "I just... I kept thinking about how he didn't offer to pick me up."
"'Cause he's a loser," Hajime is openly grinning, and you dig your elbow into his arm to silently chastise him. It makes him laugh, and he grabs your arm before you can deal anymore damage. "You need to have higher standards."
You frown at him, glaring openly. You don't mean it, and from the smug grin on his face, he can read between the lines to what you really mean.
Still, you're nothing if not stubborn.
"You don't have to ruin all other men for me, you know."
Kentaro Kyotani could be described as... overly protective.
He's your roommate, one of your closest friends, and the object of your affection. Except, he doesn't know that last part, and if you plan to keep your sanity, it will stay that way.
Which is why you're going on a date. A date that's not with Kentaro.
You're not sure why you thought you'd be able to sneak past him and out the front door of your shared apartment without questioning, but you had vague plans to dart really fast with a flimsy excuse that you're meeting up with friends.
But then your date shows up early. And knocks on the door.
He might actually have a death wish, you think, as you hear Kentaro's heavy footsteps thumping towards the front door. You're half ready, hair a mess and still wearing your casual clothes, but you race to try and beat your roommate to the door regardless because you know what'll happen if you don't make it.
Except, Kentaro is a professional athlete. You never had any hope of beating him, anyways, even without his head start.
The door is propped open when you arrive on the scene. Kentaro's broad frame taking up most of the space, but even with his back to you, you can still feel his murderous intent leveled on the stranger on your front step.
"Who the fuck are you?" Kentaro's rough voice asks, no pretense of niceties spared for the hopeless guy before him.
"Ken!" You hiss, embarrassed that this is how your date is starting off. Though, you'd be lying if you said you were completely surprised. You had only been hoping that your date would arrive when you're ready to go so you could leave immediately after. "Be nice. He's here for me. We have a date."
And that gets Kentaro's attention. He freezes, spine going straight and rigid. You assume his expression looks downright lethal because you're pretty certain you hear your date gulp.
You don't get to hear anything else your date has to say, though, because between one breath and the next Kentaro slams the door in his face with a clipped, "Fuck off, man."
He turns to face then, only after he bolts the lock on the front door for an extra, unnecessarily petty measure. You'd think it funny, if Kentaro wasn't staring you down like you're his prey.
"You're not going out with him." He tells you, voice firm and decisive, as if the tips of his ears aren't turning pink. The sight of his faint blush shocks you back to reality, reminding you that it's only Kentaro, and he's not anything to be afraid of.
"Why can't I?" You fire back, attitude nearly doubling the moment he attempted to tell you what you can and cannot do. Even if you'd rather go out with him, you're still not going to let him think he can dictate your life.
"'Cause I don't like it. He looks weak." Kentaro doesn't waver. Not that you expected him to, honestly. He takes a step forward as you snort a laugh, arms crossing over your chest.
"Weak? What, is he going to have to fight to defend my honor?" Smirking, you fight against the warmth burning your cheeks as he stops only a few short inches away from you. He's so close, and tall, that you have to angle your chin up to meet his heavy stare.
"He'll have to fight me if he even thinks about touching you." And he's so serious, too. He's never been the most direct person, but you know you can read exactly what he's implying with such a bold declaration.
And you're not going to pass up on this opportunity.
"That's... unfairly hot of you to say, Kentaro."
Kotaro Bokuto has been laying on the floor in the center of your shared living room for the past fifteen minutes, moping.
Why? Well, he found out you have a date. One that's not happening for another three days.
"Ko, it's not that serious," You giggle at his antics from your perch on the couch, sitting cross legged and pretending to get work done on your laptop. Bokuto groans like you've shot him, covering his face with his arms to hide from you, while also making sure to stay in your line of sight on the floor.
"It is this serious!" He laments, sounding genuinely distraught. "I'm gonna lose you!"
"You're not going to lose me." Quick to assure him, you're already thinking about ways you can get out of this date. Your roommate is just too adorably goofy for you to put him through such stress, right?
"You don't know that!" He groans again, moving his arms so that he can glare accusingly at you. "What if you actually like this... this guy, and then you start spending all your time with him instead of me! What if he wants you to move in with him so you don't live with me anymore?"
If he weren't being so ridiculous, you might have actually felt bad for smiling while he was crashing out.
"You're getting ahead of yourself."
"What if—oh god—what if he asks you to marry him and you have ten kids together!" Bokuto gasps, pushing himself up on his elbows like the very idea has shocked so life into him. He looks so genuinely distraught, you're starting to have pity. "I wanted to take you out! He's stealing my idea."
And there's the confession you've been waiting for. It was only a matter of time, you knew, before Bokuto admitted to the feelings you've both been dancing around since you moved in together.
"Do you want me to cancel my date?" You ask, amused and feeling victorious. Bokuto sits up straight at your suggestion, golden eyes wide and head nodding rigorously.
"Yes. I'll take you someplace better." He sounds so serious you have to bite the inside of your cheek from laughing out loud. "I promise, just give me this chance and I'll prove it to you!"
You sigh, trying your hardest to hide your grin. You never really had a chance at denying his request, anyways.
"Get me my phone."
Wakatoshi Ushijima is a blunt personality you've somehow managed to make the core of your world.
It helps that you're roommates, spending so much downtime together. You've developed routines that surround Wakatoshi, whether you were aware of them or not.
Those steady routines built around him caused you to fall in love, even if you dread the thought of inevitable heartbreak.
Everything changes one calm night. You're in the kitchen cooking dinner for the two of you. He's been assigned dishes duty, like always when you cook, so you don't expect him to linger in the kitchen long.
Predictably, he's wandering in and out while you cook. Taking care of minute tasks, planning out what the next few weeks will look like on the shared whiteboard calendar hanging by the entrance to the kitchen. It's something you hung in effort to attempt to coordinate schedules with someone as busy as Wakatoshi Ushijima.
It's so normal, so routine, you don't think anything of it until he's calling out your name.
"What's this on the calendar?" His steady voice asks, something that sounds close to confusion ringing his tone. "You've marked a date for this Friday?"
"Uh, yeah." You hum, hoping you can get away with leaving it at that as you stir the vegetables you're in the process of cooking.
"With who?" He asks, and you should've known you'd never be able to get away with such a half-assed answer.
"This guy I met at a coffee shop. No one you know." You shrug, forcefully keeping your voice light. You're a little caught off guard by how much talking about going on a date with someone else with Wakatoshi makes your chest tighten uncontrollably.
There's a long moment of silence that follows your comment. Wakatoshi is still standing by the entrance of the kitchen, devoutly reviewing the calendar, and you're cooking in peace. You think that you might even be able to escape the conversation with minimal awkwardness.
But then you hear him clear his throat.
"Apologies, but I don't like the idea of you going out with this guy."
"Toshi, what?" His comment catches you off guard. You lower the heat on the stove and turn, body mostly moving on autopilot as you try and process what he said. "You don't even know the guy."
"I have feelings for you." He tells you straight out, voice as no nonsense as always. You think you might have gasped at his admission, but you also aren't sure you're actually breathing. "I would prefer you to not spend your time with someone else. Unless you don't have feelings for me, then disregard."
"Hold on. Disregard?" You raise a hand, as if you could physically stop him from continuing to melt your mind. "You're going to tell me that, and then tell me to disregard?"
"I'd like to keep any form of relationship with you, even it's just simply friendship. If me having feelings for you makes you uncomfortable, I will deal with it." He's so open, always, but the honesty in his tone is making you dizzy.
You're crossing the kitchen before you realize it, legs carrying you towards him while smiling wide.
"You are so unbelievable. I'm not disregarding anything."
Osamu Miya likes to pretend like he's so much more mature than his twin, but you know the truth.
You live with Osamu, spend enough time around the two of them to know that while they have plenty of differences, they're always identical twin brothers and can have a tendency to act like it.
Currently, you're all seated in the living room you share with Osamu. The boys are arguing over some minute detail in the trashy reality show you're making them watch while you're perched in the armchair, minding your own business as if Atsumu calling his brother a toilet head is normal.
Because it is.
"By the way," You interject Osamu's stammering to come up with another low-level insult to call his twin. "I won't be around tonight. I'm going out to dinner with this guy from work."
You keep your tone casual, hoping that the boys arguing will serve as enough distraction so that you can fly under the radar. There was no more putting off telling Osamu, you knew.
There's a moment of tense silence, and even though your face is turned towards the television, you're not processing anything that's happening on the screen. And then—
Atsumu opens his big fat mouth and laughs.
Briefly, you're stunned into horror. Osamu looks like he's still in shock, processing your abrupt announcement, and Atsumu is doubled over on the couch, holding his stomach from laughing so hard.
"Shaddup, ya moron!" Osamu shouts, launching himself at Atsumu. You're not unused to their wrestling, but you'd rather not be the reason they're grappling on the floor.
And yet.
Atsumu is quick to react to his brother's attack, fighting back before you really even realize what's happening. There's insults being thrown around as they wrestle, and you think you hear Atsumu shout something like 'yer gonna miss yer chance, loser!'
They tumble off the couch and onto the floor, and you lift your legs up off the ground to keep yourself from being caught in the crossfire.
"I've been tryin' to ask 'em, but yer always around, dickhead!" Comes from Osamu, though his words are almost intelligible as his brother shoves a palm into the side of his face to keep him from getting close.
"Don't let me stop ya, jackass!" Atsumu fires back. Their arguing is drowning out the catfight happening on the television, and you're worried they're about to slam into the coffee table.
"Would you two knock it off!" Now you're shouting, extending one leg out to poke Atsumu harshly in the side. It throws him off balance long enough that Osamu can get the upper hand, and with a few more moments of grappling he has his brother in a headlock.
Atsumu is cursing, loudly, but your protests about their volume dry out on your tongue when you see Osamu looking up at you. His eyes are filled with absolute determination, and if you were any less infatuated with him it might have been a little unnerving.
"Just stay in with me tonight." He tightens his hold on Atsumu, causing his brother to struggle and let out a string of curses. "I'll make ya the best dinner ya ever had."
You've had Osamu's cooking more times than you can count. You know it's not an offer you can just refuse. "You didn't have to get physical with 'tsumu just to ask me out, you know."
Aran Ojiro is nothing but a devoted sweetheart.
He's smart, and kind, and totally considerate. He's also a professional athlete, which means he's beyond out of your league. You're not even sure how you managed to snag him as your roommate, let alone try to push your luck and go for requited feelings.
So, in a last ditch effort to get over your sugary sweet feelings for him, you agreed to let your friend set you up on a blind date.
"Alright, I'm heading out, Aran!" You call into your shared apartment tugging on your coat by the front door. Nerves are buzzing in your chest, and it's not at all helped when Aran comes into view.
He's dressed comfortably, clearly planning on just staying in for the evening. Immediately, you're itching to take off your nice date clothes and climb into a pair of sweats, curling up on the couch opposite him.
But that feeling is also why you absolutely need to go on this date. You can't pine away after your roommate forever.
"Have fun," Aran says, hands stuffed casually in his pockets, but the strained look on his face doesn't match his words in the slightest. You feel like there's more he wants to say, but when nothing comes, you wave once and slip out the door.
The date goes fine.
He's not a bad date at all, but he's nothing spectacular either. There's something that feels off the whole evening, and it's only when you're trekking back up to your apartment that you realize your date wasn't good because it wasn't with him.
The light is on in the living room when you unlock the front door, which catches you by surprise. Aran has a strict schedule he follows during the volleyball season, and it's past the time he usually migrates to his bedroom for the night.
But he's sitting on the couch, posture stiff and twisting to face you the moment you walk through the door.
"You're still up?" You ask, a little shocked. Aran nods, standing to slowly make his way in front of you.
"I couldn't sleep." He explains, one large hand scratching the back of his neck. "I needed to make sure you got home safe."
"You're so sweet, Aran." It's impossible not to melt immediately, so you don't fight it and smile openly up at him. God, he's ruining all other men for you without even trying.
"Can I... can I tell you something?" He sounds nervous, and instantly you're on edge. The warm feeling in your chest starts to dissipate slowly, replaced instead by a buzzing that has your palms sweating.
"Of course," You say, smiling, hope it masks the worry you're feeling well enough.
"I like you. " Aran draws in a deep breath at the same time you sharply inhale out of shock. "A lot. And I really hated seeing you walk out that door to go on a date with someone that wasn't me. Even if that makes me sound incredibly selfish."
You're quiet, processing, but you know that above all else you need to let him know he's not anywhere close to being in the wrong.
"I don't think it makes you sound selfish."
"You don't?" He sounds so hopeful, it nearly cracks your heart in two. Instead, you simply step forward, boldly capturing one of his hands between two of yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Not at all. I just wish you'd said so before I left the apartment."
Kiyoomi Sakusa is a very particular roommate.
You wouldn't say it's difficult to live with him, but it definitely took some adjustment at the beginning. It helps that you also like to keep things clean, but there's some extremes he goes to that you’re not sure are absolutely necessary.
Like the way he's particular about who comes into the apartment.
Normally, it benefits you as well. You don't like strangers in your space, or even people you know after a rough day at work.
But now, you think Kiyoomi is being ridiculous.
You've had this date planned for two weeks. Kiyoomi has known about it, you're certain, but the moment your date arrived he acted like a national tragedy was occurring.
It didn't help that he was the one to open the door, his long legs beating you in an instant. You were close behind, shoes clutched in your hands, calling out for him to just let you get the door.
You watched as Kiyoomi opens the door, takes one look at your date, and slams it in his face.
"He's coming into the apartment." He's grimacing as he turns to face you, mask pulled up over his nose. It doesn't hide the way he face is pinched in disgust. Drama queen.
"I know, we're leaving, I just need a second to put on my shoes—" You don't entertain his nonsense, but he doesn't let you finish.
"No, then you'll still have his germs on you." He shakes his head, arms crossed firmly over his broad chest. You raise your brows, trying to level him with a pointed look that doesn't affect him in the slightest.
"Kiyoomi, what?" You barely stifle a laugh, fighting against the urge to giggle in his face. "You're not usually this freaked out about germs. I hang out with people all the time."
"You don't go on dates." There's something off about his tone, and it clicks in your mind the moment he uttered the word date like it personally sneezed on him.
"Are you... are you jealous?" There's no hiding the smugness from your voice after a brief bout of confusion. It's just too good of an opportunity to pass up.
"Of course not," He's quick to defend, but not even his mask can hide the red burning the tips of his ears. "I'm just precautious."
"Uh-huh." You're grinning openly, borderline smirking. "Well, I'm dressed to go out, so—"
"If you're so adamant on going out tonight, I will take you." He nods like it's decided, like your date isn't still knocking on the other side of the door in attempt to figure out what's happening. "Get rid of the other guy while I get dressed. I'll only be a minute."
You hate that this is working for you.
"You're... insane, Omi."
