a. miya | a bit of a pickle crack, funny, atsumu being stupid wc: 808
He couldn’t believe that this was his life.
48 hours.
48 hours of being ignored by his perfect, beautiful, stupidly stubborn girlfriend all because he didn’t take the trash out a nanosecond after you asked.
And like an idiot, he had responded with “I didn’t know there was a time limit on that.”
You. were. pissed.
And not the normal, pissed at him for a little and then sneaking up on him to make up. No, the terrifying kind of pissed. The ‘i don’t need you’ kind of pissed. The kind of pissed that smiled sweetly at him while you were aggressively chopping zucchini.
The worst part about the whole thing?
You had become overly independent.
Couldn’t reach your favorite mug on the top shelf? You scaled the counter like a raccoon, using tongs to drag it to the edge before almost dropping it on your head.
Groceries needed to be brought in? You carried every bag inside in one go, legs and arms buckling under the weight.
And when he tried to help you, you hissed at him. Yes, hissed like a feral cat that was cornered on the street.
So Atsumu made the most reasonable, mature decision he possibly could.
He tightened the lid to the jar of your favorite pickles.
Hah…let’s see ya try and open that without me. He thought, twisting the lid until it was practically super glued shut.
And now? He was seriously regretting his decision.
You were standing in the kitchen, hands wrapped around the jar as you slammed it against the granite countertops.
SMACK!
Atsumu’s eyes twitched.
SMACK!
“Babe?"
SMACK!
His heart sank into his asshole as he heard you start muttering under your breath. It was like you were possessed by a demon. The vein in your forehead was dangerously close to popping, your shoulders were tense, and your eyes were narrowed into a deadly glare.
You angrily dropped the jar onto the counter, hands on your hips as you watched it settle. Atsumu thought the coast was clear, settling back into the couch, until he heard something about a sledgehammer. He immediately sprung up from the couch, almost tripping on the corner of the rug, and scurried into the kitchen.
Your eyes locked onto his approaching figure, quickly snatching up the jar, clutching it tightly as if it were your child.
“Give it.” He demanded, hand outstretched expectantly.
You narrowed your eyes, face twisting with disgust.
“No.”
“You need help.”
“Not from you.”
“Give me the jar.”
“No.”
“I swear-”
You glared, “You didn’t want to help with the trash. You shouldn’t want to help with the pickles!”
Atsumu deadpanned, taking a step closer. “That was two friggin days ago!”
“And it would still be sitting there if I didn’t do it myself!”
“I said I would do it!”
“You said in a minute and then DIDN’T MOVE FOR THREE HOURS!”
“I WAS TIRED!”
“SO WAS I!”
“I HAD VOLLEYBALL!” He retorts.
“AND I WAS CLEANING!” You shot back, still clutching your pearls the pickles.
Atsumu’s eyes twitched as his patience snapped. “Gimme the pickles.”
“No.”
“Give me the-”
“I said no!”
Atsumu had heard enough. Without warning, he lunged.
“WHAT ARE YOU- HEY! LET GO!”
His large hand had wrapped around the top as he tried to pull it away from you. Your arms tightened around the bottom half, pulling it back into your body.
“Just let the damn jar go!” He yelled, tugging harder.
“No! I don’t need your help!” You held on for dear life.
You two stood there, pushing and pulling on a jar of pickles. The two of you failed to see the ridiculousness of the situation - too blinded by each other’s stubbornness. Insults were fired back and forth as the situation escalated.
“You’re being ridiculous!”
“And you’re useless!”
“I am not! My team would say otherwise!”
“Well your TEAM doesn’t have to live with your stinky ass!”
That did it.
Atsumu’s eye twitched violently before he yanked on the jar with a ridiculous amount of force, shocking you into letting go.
As if it were in slow motion, the jar flew out of your arms and out of Atsumu’s hand. It crashed into counter and dropped to the floor, sending glass shards and pickles flying.
The smell of vinegar filled the air as the two of you stood there in silence, staring at the large puddle of green juice.
Your jaw dropped as you took in the shattered glass and discarded pickles. Meanwhile, Atsumu dragged his hand down his face, covering his mouth in shock.
He stared at the mess. Then back at you. Then back at the pickle puddle.
He blinked once.
Then twice.
“…’samu is never finding out about this.”
a/n: just a quick little blurb i thought of! i needed something light hearted after how depressing my previous two fics were lol! ENJOY! MWAH! <3
as usual, my dear readers, CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is always welcome and my requests as always open!
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here is my masterlist if you want to check out the rest of my works!
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