From the Court to the Heart — Drabbles with Haikyuu!! ♡

by gabseyoo

Summary:

here you can find all my drabbles with our haikyuu guys, mostly sakusa kiyoomi. most of them are fluff, there may be angst in the future.

NOTE: Updated from "Drabbles with Sakusa Kiyoomi" to "Drabbles with Haikyuu" on May 2025 since I started to write for more characters :p

Notes:

drabble content: msby!sakusa, female reader, established relationship, fluff. word count: 0,5k.

Chapter 1: Mwah — Sakusa Kiyoomi

“Will you pick me up at the airport tomorrow?” Kiyoomi asked, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he put on his sneakers. 

“Of course I will, I can’t risk you being kidnapped by a cab.” Kiyoomi’s smile at your words was hidden by his face-mask, but even so, the gleam in his eyes gave him away to his teammates, who were pretty quiet since his phone rang two minutes ago. 

And they weren’t just doing it so he wouldn’t have trouble hearing you amidst the mess in the locker room—he wished they were that respectful—they were doing it to hear him talk to you. How to blame them? It was the first time they heard Kiyoomi speak without his ‘I wish they’d all die’ voice. They even looked at each other and whispered things like, ‘Are we hearing this right?’ ‘He’s whipped.’ ‘I never thought I’d hear him say petnames.’ 

“I just wanted to make sure. I can’t wait to see you.” He said already holding the phone in his hand to stand up.

“Me neither. I miss you so much.” 

“I miss you too.” Kiyoomi replied in a sweet tone and only looked askance at Atsumu when he snorted, causing him to immediately shut up and pitifully pretend to be looking for something in his sports bag. Honestly, the twin was only amused because he never imagined Sakusa talking like that. 

He sighed when he heard the coach’s voice rushing them, and as much as he liked talking to you, he had to end the call. “Doll, I need to finish getting ready. I’ll call you after the game, okay?”

“Okay. Good luck, baby. I’ll be watching you on TV, try to look pretty for me.” Kiyoomi didn’t notice how his teammates looked at each other, puzzled to hear him laugh. 

“I don’t need to try.” 

“If you say so…” You said in a singsong tone that made him frown, but before he could ask what you meant—because of course that he always looks pretty—, you spoke again, “Well. Finish getting ready, I don’t want you to get scolded. I love you. Mwah.” 

“Bye, doll. Love you too.” Even when it sounded like a good end of the call, he knew he was missing something, and he knew you knew it, which is why he didn’t hang up right away. Instead, he glanced sideways at his teammates to make sure they didn’t hear him, because he knew they’d laugh at what he was about to do, and he clearly didn’t want that— but your next words reminded him that he couldn’t escape this one. 

“Kiyoomi, and my kiss?” 

Shit. He would never deny you a kiss. 

“Sorry, babe, I got distracted.” Kiyoomi closed his eyes, psyching himself up and wondering for a second why he didn’t answer the call outside, “I’m hanging up, okay? I love you. Mwah.” 

Unfortunately, they heard him, and very well. 

Atsumu’s laughter was immediate. But it wasn’t until Sakusa turned to look annoyingly at his teammates that everyone burst out laughing.

“Fuck you all.”

Chapter 2: Waste of Lipstick — Sakusa Kiyoomi

Summary:

content: female reader, established relationship, fluff. word count: 0,7k.

Sakusa Kiyoomi had a reputation for being serious, collected, competitive, honest and even a little intimidating— well, too intimidating. 

Many say he’s even scary. 

You couldn’t agree more, indeed, he was all that. Your boyfriend’s reputation doesn’t come from nowhere, right?

But that’s the Kiyoomi that the public knew. The Kiyoomi you knew was nothing like what they thought he was, in fact, he was someone completely different.

Your Kiyoomi was someone kind, funny and even somewhat corny. He was someone who planned the most memorable dates, was always spoiling you, had a picture of you as his wallpaper, wore his promise ring every day, gave you lots of cute petnames and—believe it or not—sent kisses at the end of every phone call when he’s away. 

It’s not like he hid how he acted with his girlfriend, which is why so many of his acquaintances were surprised by how much he softened when it came to you, and honestly, that’s one of the many things you loved about him.

You didn’t know why those kinds of thoughts about your boyfriend’s not-so-hidden sweet side were going through your head right now, maybe it was because if someone when you first met the intimidating Sakusa Kiyoomi had told you that someday he’d be your boyfriend and you’d be here, straddling his lap with him lying in the comfort of your bed and he would have a face full of red lipstick stains that you had spread on his smooth skin, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“This is a waste of lipstick.” 

You chuckled at your boyfriend’s sudden words that broke the comfortable silence. 

“I know.” You pushed aside a strand of hair on his forehead to leave a kiss there and smiled before leaving another on his temple, decorating his skin with new red marks. “But it’s worth it, you look pretty.” 

Kiyoomi smiled.

“Do I?” He placed his hand behind your head, stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he looked lovingly into your eyes, and you swore that at that moment it was as if you fell in love with him all over again for the thousandth time. 

A sincere smile appeared on your lips and you responded with a small mhm as you brought your face close to his until your noses brushed.

“I think you look pretty too.” Kiyoomi whispered before joining your lips in a kiss.

With his hand on the back of your neck he put a little more pressure to deepen the kiss and the other did the same on your lower back, you buried yours in his dark curls. It was romantically slow, you both just enjoyed the feel of each other’s lips. 

It wasn’t until you needed a breath of air that you broke away, but not before giving him a little peck.

You supported yourself on your hands on either side of his head and looked down at your boyfriend, letting out a giggle when you saw that his mouth was completely smeared with red. You thought about commenting on it, but he beat you to it.  

“Your mouth is all messy now.” He gently took you by the chin and his thumb wiped under your lips, you knew that this action had surely smeared the lipstick more instead of cleaning it, but you didn’t mind in the least. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You kissed his finger in reassurance before asking, “Ready for round two, Omi?” 

“I’m all yours, baby.” He stated, putting his hands behind his head to make himself comfortable on your pillow. 

“I like that.” You sat up straight again on his lap and picked up the red lipstick you had left on your nightstand. 

Kiyoomi watched with a smitten smile how you applied more lipstick on your lips, getting ready for another round of kisses that he was more than willing to receive.

“You still think this is a waste of lipstick?” You questioned as you leaned in to leave a kiss on his jaw 

“Maybe.”

You gasped dramatically and Kiyoomi let out a chuckle. 

“But I always can buy you more, you know.” He added and took your hand in his to leave a kiss on your knuckles. “As long as you waste it on me.” 

Notes:

You can follow and interact more with me on tumblr: @gabseyoo. <3

Chapter 3: Heels — Sakusa Kiyoomi

“I told you.” Kiyoomi said, his tone laced with amused exasperation as he adjusted his grip, carrying you effortlessly toward the car.

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “You can’t say I didn’t look stunning.” You reached up and lightly tapped his cheek, your playful tone softening his mock annoyance.

Tonight was a gala dinner hosted by the V League, which you saw as the perfect night to wear your new heels that were waiting for their moment to shine. It must be said that you completely ignored your boyfriend when he told you to be sure to bring a spare pair of shoes, since he didn’t think you would last long in those heels since you would have to be on your feet for so long. 

“You still look stunning.” He replied, mimicking your gesture by gently patting his fingers against your leg. “As stunning as you would’ve looked even with crocs.”

You cringed at the mental image. “Crocs with this dress? I don’t think so.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m serious this time. This is the last time I’m carrying you.”

“You always say that.”

“And you always conveniently ‘forget’ to bring spare shoes.”

“Maybe I just like being carried.” You said with a smirk, resting your head against his shoulder.

Kiyoomi glanced down at you, his grin widening. “You know, I’m starting to think you wear those heels on purpose. Just for this.”

“I made it that obvious?”

“Kinda.” He admitted, his voice warm and teasing.

“Well,” You said with mock seriousness, “if you’re really done carrying me, I guess I’ll have to start packing flats in my bag.”

“Let’s be honest—” He said, his smirk turning into a full smile. “You know I’ll carry you to the car every time, no matter what.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think it over. “True. It’s a good system we’ve got here.”

Kiyoomi laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Yeah, a system where you get spoiled and I get stuck as the chauffeur-slash-pack mule.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” You teased, brushing your lips against his jaw in a fleeting kiss.

“I better have a reward when we get home.” He whispered with his lips against your cheek in an undeniably flirtatious tone. 

“I already have a few ideas.” 

“Fine.” He murmured, his steps slowing as you reached the car. “But next time, I’m picking the shoes. Deal?”

“Deal. You said with a laugh, though you couldn’t help but add, “Just don’t even think about crocs.”

“Too bad.” He teased as he set you down gently. “They’re already in my cart.”

Notes:

she was probably wearing louboutin

Chapter 4: Chocolate & Cookies — Sakusa Kiyoomi

Kiyoomi was washing the dishes when he heard your footsteps shuffle into the kitchen. His head snapped around, a smile already spreading across his face when he saw you in your crumpled pajamas. You looked cute, no doubt about it, but also kind of… dangerous.

“Hey, babe.” He said, his voice soft in a way reserved just for you.

You didn’t respond. No glance, no acknowledgment. You walked straight past him, heading for the fridge like it held the answer to all your problems. The fridge door hummed open, and you poked around with an intensity that made Kiyoomi pause mid-scrub, sponge in hand.

It was one of those days.

Your period had started yesterday, which explained the bad mood that had been building all week. After years together, Kiyoomi liked to think he had learned how to navigate these stormy seas. But the truth? It caught him off guard every time. You weren’t just sensitive—you were sharp, snappy, and downright scary when the mood struck. And the way you ignored him just now? That stung.

What had he done? He ran through his mental checklist. Nothing came to mind, but the tension in the room told him he was still in trouble.

“Hey. I’m home.” He tried again, drying his hands on a dish towel. “I made pasta.”

“I can see.” You muttered, not even looking up from the fridge.

“I got here an hour ago, but you were asleep.” He added, as if offering evidence of good behavior. “Are you feeling better?”

You’d called him earlier while he was at training, your voice strained as you complained about cramps so bad they’d left you bedridden. He’d felt awful for not being able to come straight home.

“No.”

Okay. Honest, at least. He hesitated. Should he just leave it? No, he couldn’t. The air between you was too tense. “Are you hungry? I can serve you a—”

“Kiyoomi.”

That tone. His name. Just his name. No ‘babe’ no ‘love’ no ‘baby’ not even a begrudging ‘Kiyo’. His chest tightened. His stomach sank.

“Yes, baby?” He asked, trying to sound calm.

“Did you eat my chocolates?”

Shit. He froze. The room suddenly felt about ten degrees hotter. For someone as imposing as Sakusa Kiyoomi—a man who made grown athletes tremble with a single glare—it was ironic how easily two things could scare him: insects, and you. Especially you.

“Um. Yeah. There wasn’t much left, so I thought—”

“Why do you always do this?” You slammed the fridge shut with a force that made him flinch, spinning to face him with fire in your eyes. “You always eat my stuff and don’t even replace it!”

“What? I don’t always—”

“First it was my ice cream. Then my oatmeal—you don’t even like oatmeal, Kiyoomi! And now my chocolates?”

“I just wanted to try it.” He muttered defensively, raising his hands as if to fend off your wrath. “I was going to buy more—”

“When? Tomorrow? ” You demanded, your voice cracking, and oh no, now your eyes were glistening with tears.

“Baby, no, don’t cry.” He said quickly, his voice laced with panic. “I’ll buy more. Right now.”

“It’s nine p.m.!” You shot back, your voice wobbling but sharp. “Those were from that chocolate shop we like—they won’t be open! What am I supposed to do tonight?”

Kiyoomi froze. You had a point. And the guilt? It was eating him alive. He’d messed up, and now he was watching his favorite person unravel before his eyes.

You sniffled, and that tiny sound hit him like a punch to the gut. Then your face crumpled, and suddenly, you weren’t just sniffling—you were full-on crying. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gestured helplessly at the fridge. “I just wanted something sweet! And now there’s nothing! ”

Oh dear lord. Kiyoomi pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded like a plea for strength. This was worse than he thought. But despite the chaos in front of him, despite the rising panic in his chest, he still found you… heartbreakingly adorable.

He stepped closer, hesitant but determined. “Okay. I screwed up. I’ll fix it. Just… give me a second.”

You crossed your arms, glaring up at him. “How?”

Without another word, Kiyoomi walked over to the pantry, pulling out the bag of fancy cookies he’d been saving for himself. These were his cookies. The ones he didn’t share with anyone. Slowly, he placed them on the counter in front of you, as though offering a sacred artifact. “Here. You can have these.”

You froze, staring at the cookies, then back at him, suspicion written all over your face. “You don’t even like sharing those.”

“I know.” He said softly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “But I don’t like seeing you upset more.”

That did it. Your lip trembled, and you started crying harder. “You’re giving me your cookies?” You choked out, as if it was the most romantic gesture anyone had ever made. “You love these cookies.”

Kiyoomi exhaled sharply, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, you’re more important than some cookies.” He paused, watching you sob even harder as you clutched the bag to your chest and went to hug him. “God.” He muttered under his breath, but there was a faint, helpless smile on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“I’ll buy you as much chocolate as you want tomorrow.” He promised, gently smoothing a hand over your head. “And ice cream. And oatmeal. Whatever you want.”

“You’d better.” You said with your cheek against his shirt. “But you’re still on thin ice.”

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “I know.”

You looked up at him, eyes still a little watery but filled with affection. “Thanks, baby.”

There she is.

“Always.” He murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

Notes:

You can follow and interact more with me on tumblr: @gabseyoo. <3

Chapter 5: Fifteen Seconds — Sakusa Kiyoomi

Summary:

Kiyoomi Sakusa isn’t great with words—or timing, apparently.

Notes:

here's a drabble for valentine's day, hope you enjoy it <3

What should I say?

“Here.” No, too dry.

“Here, it’s for you.” Shit, still too dry.

“I bought this for you, I hope you like it.” Okay, that one wasn’t so bad. 

For the past ten minutes, Kiyoomi had been locked in a brutal staring contest with the small black box sitting on the café table. The thing wasn’t even looking at him, and yet he was the one losing.

This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

He had bought the damn gift two weeks ago. Two weeks of overthinking, of waiting for the perfect moment, of nearly shoving it to the back of his closet out of sheer nerves. But then Valentine’s Day crept up on him, and he thought—maybe this was fate giving him a chance.

Or setting him up for humiliating rejection.

Kiyoomi had rehearsed this moment in his head. And still, here he was, breaking into a nervous sweat over a bracelet. What if you didn’t like it? What if you thought it was stupid? What if you liked someone else?

Then, in the middle of his internal crisis, a familiar voice nearly made him jump.

“Hey, Kiyoomi.”

He looked up so fast he almost knocked the gift off the table. There you were, standing in front of him with that impossibly pretty smile, your presence alone enough to make his pulse go haywire.

“Did you already order, or should I—?” You asked as you sat down in front of him. 

“I already did.” He forced his voice to stay steady. “Iced latte with two shots of vanilla, right?”

Your smile grew. “You know me so well.”

Yeah, because I’m hopelessly in love with you.

The words were right there. On the tip of his tongue.

Relax, Kiyoomi. Ease into it.

That was the smart thing to do. You didn’t just shove a confession at someone out of nowhere—there should be a conversation first, something natural.

“So, uh…” He wracked his brain for something—anything—normal to say. “How’s work?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “It’s fine?”

What the hell was that, Kiyoomi? It was comical how his calm and collected personality seemed to disappear at this moment when he needed it most. Was love always this complicated? Or was it because it was about you?

You tilted your head. “Are you okay?”

No. No, he was absolutely not okay. His fingers tapped anxiously against the small box. The longer he waited, the worse this was getting. His nerves were eating him alive. He could already feel the impending doom of chickening out.

Screw it.

With zero transition or warning, he grabbed the box and shoved it across the table. “Here.”

Goddamn it. 

You blinked in surprise. “For me?”

A stiff nod. This was fine. You’d open it, love it, and then he’d tell you. Smooth. Simple. Foolproof.

Except…

You were taking your sweet time untying the ribbon.

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to do it for you. Why were you so slow? Was this some kind of test? Did you already know he was panicking and just wanted to see him suffer?

Finally, you lifted the lid. Your lips parted as you took out the delicate silver bracelet, the small star charm catching the café’s warm light.

“Oh, Kiyoomi…” You breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

His fingers twitched under the table as your eyes widened slightly. “Wait… this is—”

Kiyoomi looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the café menu on the wall. “Yeah.”

Your fingers traced the charm, realization dawning. “This is the bracelet from that shop at the mall, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

You turned to him, eyes suspiciously bright. “You went back for it?”

Kiyoomi picked up his coffee, taking a slow sip as if that would somehow make this moment less humiliating. “You wouldn’t stop staring at it.”

“I looked at it for like, five seconds.”

“It was at least fifteen.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

This was it. The perfect moment.

He took a breath, preparing to say the words that had been stuck in his chest for way too long.

“I—” He began, but the words he had rehearsed for days were interrupted when a waiter appeared at the table.

“Here’s your order! One vanilla iced latte and one black coffee.”

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw so hard he thought he might crack a tooth. Not now, man. 

He nodded stiffly as you thanked the waiter. Okay, fine. Minor setback. 

“What were you saying?” You asked after the guy turned around, taking a sip from your drink.

His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Now. Now is the time. Just say it: I like you.

Kiyoomi opened his mouth, determined to do it, but then— 

“Do you need any sugar?”

Oh my god.

Kiyoomi glared at the waiter. Who was back. Did this man have a vendetta against his love life?

He mumbled a half-hearted, “No, thanks.”

“Cream?”

“No, thanks.”

“Any appetizer? We have a special red velvet cake because of Valentine's Day.”

Was this a joke?

“We’re fine.”

“Actually, I want a slice of cake.” You said.

Before the waiter could leave, Kiyoomi muttered, “Make that two.”

The guy finally left, and he was beginning to get irritated by his bad luck.

Just do it now! He scrambled at himself mentally. 

“Y/N, I bought–” He hurried to say, but then the loud hiss from the blender machine drowned out his voice.

Was this the universe making fun of him? 

By now, he was one more interruption away from actually losing it. So, ignoring the annoying noise, he decided to just keep going, “I bought this because–”

“Oh! Look at that dog outside.”

Kiyoomi stopped mid-sentence as you turned to the window, grinning at a fluffy golden retriever wagging its tail on the sidewalk. Are you serious?

But, when he turned back to you, you were watching him with amusement.

You two made eye contact for a few seconds, he blinked, you blinked, and then— you laughed.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What?”

You smirked. “Kiyoomi, don’t be so shy.”

His stomach dropped.

“I like you too.”

For a full three seconds, his brain just ceased to function.

You… what?

His ears burned. His grip tightened on his cup. His entire soul left his body. “You knew?”

You giggled, tapping his hand lightly. “Of course. I actually got something for you too.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small gift box, setting it on the table in front of him. Kiyoomi tried—really tried—not to look too eager as he picked it up and carefully lifted the lid.

Inside was a watch. The watch. The one he had lingered on in the mall that day.

“You looked at it for at least fifteen seconds.” You teased, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

Kiyoomi froze. His fingers tightened around the box as the realization sank in.

You had noticed. Just like he had noticed you staring at the bracelet. You both had thought of each other.

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. His throat felt tight, his chest oddly warm. He looked up at you, something soft, something real in his gaze.

“This is—”

“Here they are! Two slices of red velvet cake!”

Kiyoomi visibly twitched.

Oh, come on!

Notes:

You can follow and interact more with me on tumblr: @gabseyoo. <3

Chapter 6: Blankets — Miya Atsumu

Summary:

content: msby!atsumu, established relationship, fluff, female reader. word count: 0,7k.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Atsumu asked, stepping into the room with only a towel slung low around his hips, his damp blonde hair clinging messily to his forehead. His skin still glistened with the remnants of steam, and he left wet footprints on the hardwood floor.

After a long, exhausting day, all he wanted was to crawl into bed, snuggle into his beautiful girlfriend’s arms, and drift off to sleep under the familiar blanket you shared.

But something was different tonight.

The first few steps of his nighttime routine went as usual—you were already in bed, reading a book and waiting for him—but the beloved gray blanket was neatly folded on his side of the bed, while a soft pink one covered your legs.

His eyes flickered to yours in confusion. “Why the question?” You asked, glancing up from your book. Then you noticed his stare and let out a quiet, “Oh.”

“You mad at me?” He pressed, his lower lip jutting out just a little, already preparing for the worst.

“I’m not mad.” You reassured him with a small smile. “It’s just an idea I had.” Before he could ask why, you continued, “Remember what we talked about? About, uh… your sleeping habits?”

Atsumu blinked. Oh. That talk.

Of course, he remembered. Two months ago. It had been two weeks after you moved in together, when love and domestic bliss were still new and shiny. You’d sweetly mentioned that his nighttime antics were, well, a little… chaotic. Sometimes throwing an arm over your face, sometimes draping a leg across you like an overly affectionate octopus. Which were completely fine for you, but the one thing you couldn’t deal with was that he was a shameless blanket thief.

He’d promised to work on it. But sleep-logic Atsumu and awake-logic Atsumu were two entirely different creatures.

So, you had tried everything. Tucking the blanket under you, securing it beneath the mattress—nothing worked. And so, you’d come up with a simple solution: separate blankets.

Atsumu, however, was clearly not a fan of this idea.

With a dramatic sigh, he shuffled to the closet, every step a performance of exaggerated woe. He tugged out a pair of boxers, his expression the embodiment of a heartbroken puppy.

“Baby…” You called to him, your voice gentle but laced with an I-know-you’re-about-to-be-dramatic tone.

“If you want to divorce me, just say so.” He mumbled, slipping on his boxers. His shoulders slumped, and he looked as if he might melt into a puddle right there on the floor.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “We’re not even married.”

“Exactly! That’s worse! You could just leave me. No legal ties, no paperwork, just gone—poof!” He flailed his arms for emphasis. “And then I’ll have to fight for the house in court while you take the dog that we don’t even have yet.”

“Atsumu.”

“And before I know it, you’ll find someone who sleeps like a corpse and doesn’t steal blankets, and you’ll never be cold again and—”

You shut your book, the sound soft but definitive. He stopped mid-ramble, watching as you set it on the nightstand and reached for his hand.

“Hey.”

He blinked at you, his expression still a perfect blend of pitiful and hopeful.

“You know it’s not about you being a problem, right?” You said, your thumb drawing lazy circles on his hand.

“...It’s not?” His lip wobbled just a bit, milking the moment for all it was worth.

You shook your head and gently pulled him closer. The distance between you dissolved, and with it, a little bit of his drama. “No, dummy. I just need sleep too.”

He exhaled, all his performative misery unraveling into a dramatic slump of relief. “Fine.” He muttered, dragging his feet as you coaxed him into bed. “But I don’t like it.”

You giggled and he immediately flopped down, half on top of you as usual, his weight pinning you to the mattress like a very clingy, very warm blanket of his own.

“What if we just get a bigger comforter?” He asked, muffled against your shoulder.

You hummed thoughtfully, fingers combing through his damp hair. “That might work.”

“We can go buy it tomorrow.”

“We can.” You agreed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “But until then, separate blankets.”

Notes:

FIRST ATSUMU DRABBLE!!! I love him idk why I took so long in writing something for him (maybe because im a little too obssesed with sakusa but let's ignore that fact) I hope you like it !!

You can follow and interact more with me on tumblr: @gabseyoo. <3

Chapter 7: Leftovers — Miya Atsumu

Summary:

content: established relationship, fluff. word count: 0,6k.

It started on your third date.

You were at a cozy little ramen shop tucked between two buildings downtown, the kind with foggy windows and handwritten menus. Atsumu was already halfway through his bowl, slurping loudly, while you picked daintily at yours, your pace slower, more thoughtful.

When you finally set your chopsticks down with a soft sigh, Atsumu’s head popped up like a meerkat. He glanced at your half-finished bowl, then at you.

“You done?”

“I think so…”

He didn’t hesitate—he dragged your bowl toward him, already fishing out the last noodles with the kind of joy that belonged to someone who had definitely grown up fighting for the last slice of pizza. You raised an eyebrow.

“You’re just gonna eat my leftovers like that?”

“Mhm.” He mumbled, mouth full. “Waste not, babe.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile.

From then on, it became a quiet ritual.

At every meal—whether it was takeout sushi on the couch, late-night snacks, or lazy weekend breakfasts—Atsumu somehow knew when you were done. You never said anything. You’d just push your plate a few inches away, and seconds later, his arm would reach out, like a sleepy cat stretching toward a sunbeam.

He never asked. He just did, like it was the most natural thing in the world to finish what you couldn’t. And honestly? You loved it. It was kind of warm. Kind of comfortable. A little unspoken love language all your own.

Sometimes, you liked to leave things on purpose—half a fry, a bit of omelet, the last bite of a sandwich. Not because you couldn’t finish, but because it made you smile when he took them without hesitation. Like there was this tiny thread between you, this unspoken connection built from a thousand small, silly habits.

And now, months later, that thread had only grown stronger.

Tonight, you were curled up on the couch together, a blanket tossed over both of you, the flicker of a movie playing quietly in the background. You handed him the last bite of your ice cream cone without looking—just a silent offer passed between you two.

He took it, of course, with a soft “thanks” leaving his lips.

After he finished, he turned to you and tapped your nose gently with his finger. “Y’know, if you ever actually finish your food one day, I think I’d be heartbroken.“

You snorted, leaning into his side. “Maybe I’m just trying to slowly make you gain weight. Long-term plan.”

He gave you a flat look. “So this is a trap.”

“Obviously.”

Atsumu shook his head with a small laugh, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “Well… too late now. It’s already my favorite part of the meal.”

Notes:

You can follow and interact more with me on tumblr: @gabseyoo. <3

Chapter 8: End Of An Era — Miya Osamu / Miya Atsumu

Summary:

content: established relationship (reader x osamu), female reader, fiancé!osamu, kind of atsumu centric, existential crisis. word count: 1,3k.

Atsumu sat on the couch, arms slung over the backrest, eyes staring blankly at the wall across from him. His thoughts spun in endless loops, tangled between frustration and a strange hollowness he couldn’t shake.

He knew this moment was coming—had known for a long time—but that didn’t make it any easier.

Osamu was moving out.

His twin brother, his other half, the person who literally had been by his side since the moment they were born—was leaving to start a new life with you, his future wife. Atsumu should be happy for him. Hell, he was happy for him.

But he also felt this gnawing pit in his stomach, an ugly feeling he wasn’t ready to name.

It had been creeping up on him ever since Osamu told him he was officially moving out and it only worsened as Atsumu helped you both pack, boxing up years of shared living, easy laughter, dumb arguments over who ate the last rice ball. 

And today… it was the final day.

“Need help with that, babe?” Osamu’s voice broke through Atsumu’s thoughts. Without even waiting for an answer, he plucked the last box out of your arms with a casual grin.

“It wasn’t that heavy.” You said, crossing your arms with a huff. Osamu chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“This the last one?” He asked, his smile widening when you nodded. “Damn. That’s really it, huh.”

Atsumu watched from the couch as Osamu practically radiated excitement. Like leaving behind a lifetime of being side-by-side with him didn’t weigh on him at all. And that stung more than he wanted to admit.

He had known from the start that you were different. He had known it from the moment Osamu had introduced you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. And it had been obvious to everyone—probably even before Osamu himself realized—that you were the one.

Still, Atsumu hadn’t expected everything to change so fast. The same guy who used to roll his eyes at weddings now talked about futures and family like he couldn’t wait to get started. He had even been there when Osamu nervously picked out your engagement ring, sweating like a man twice his age.

“You sure about this?” Atsumu had asked him then, half-joking, half-serious.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” Osamu had answered without missing a beat.

And that was that. No doubt. No second-guessing. Just certainty. 

Osamu disappeared outside with the last box, leaving you and Atsumu alone in the apartment. 

The silence between you two was thick, almost humming. Not awkward exactly—he had known you for years now, after all—but it felt heavy tonight.

You moved to sit beside him on the couch, close enough that your shoulder brushed his before asking, “You okay?” 

Atsumu shrugged a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re unusually quiet.”

“Me? Nah.” He waved it off, forcing a grin. “Just tired from haulin’ boxes all day.”

“You mad at us?”

The question caught him off-guard. “No! Why would I be?”

“I don’t know.” You smiled a little and shrugged. “You just seem... upset.”

He opened his mouth to deny it again, but it stuck in his throat. Fuck. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Maybe I am a little.” He muttered. “I don’t know. Feels like everything’s changing and I’m... stayin’ still."

You didn’t say anything at first. Just let him sit there, stewing in it, which somehow made it easier to keep talking.

“Everyone’s movin’ on. You and ‘Samu are starting this whole new life. And I’m still here, in this stupid apartment, playing volleyball and eating frozen dinners when ‘Samu is out at night.” He laughed, but it sounded rough. “I mean, I’m happy for you. I am. I just…” He trailed off, obviously embarrassed for what he wanted to express.

“You feel left behind.” You finished for him.

After a few seconds in silence, Atsumu nodded. 

You leaned back against the couch, your head tilting toward him. “You’re not left behind, Atsumu. Life just moves differently for everyone. It’s not a race.”

He stayed quiet, staring at his hands. His throat felt tight.

“And you didn’t hear this from me, but—” You continued, softer now. “Osamu’s scared too.”

That pulled his gaze up. “Yeah, right. He looked like he was walking into Disney World out there.”

“He’s excited because it’s something new for both of us. But he’s gonna miss you like hell, Atsumu. He’s been pretending to be all cool about it, but he’s worried you’re gonna starve without him around.”

Atsumu let out a snort, a little offended. “I can cook!” You raised an eyebrow. “Well... I can try.” 

He rolled his eyes when you laughed as you bumped your shoulder lightly against his.

“And besides... just because Samu’s moving out doesn’t mean he’s not still your brother. You’re stuck with each other, no matter what.”

Atsumu bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to let the emotion show too much. He was used to being the loud one, the dumbass, the one who made everything a joke. Feeling like this—raw and sad and a little lost—wasn’t something he knew how to do in front of people. Especially not you.

Atsumu let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Yeah... guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

Despite everything, he chuckled. And somehow, the knot in his chest loosened just a little bit.

You sat in silence for a few seconds, breathing the same air, staring at the same wall, before you said quietly, “You know, Atsumu... you’re allowed to feel scared about changes. Even the good ones.”

He stared at you, something sharp and tender settling in his chest. You meant it. You saw him, the way so few people did.

He rubbed his hands over his face and muttered, “I feel like such a dumbass.”

“You’re not. You’re just human.”

Atsumu barked out a dry laugh. “Yeah, well... being human sucks sometimes.”

“It does.”

“Again, you’re right.”

What neither of you noticed was that Osamu had been standing in the doorway, quietly listening, a small, knowing smile on his face. It was moments like this that made him so sure about his future with you, you were so understanding and so loving. You comforted his brother in a way he never could have and that made him fall in love with you all over again. 

As soon as he made sure you were done talking, he finally stepped back into the room, holding up a bottle of wine triumphantly. “Our neighbor gave me this as a goodbye gift. Wanna crack it open?”

Later, as the sky blushed in soft purples and oranges, the three of you sat on the balcony, squeezed onto the same old outdoor couch that held so many memories. 

Osamu sat between you and Atsumu, an arm casually slung around each of you.

“I’m gonna miss this place.” Osamu said, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

Atsumu stared out at the view—the same one they’d shared for years—and tried not to let his chest ache too much.

“You sure you can survive without me?” Atsumu asked, smirking sideways at him.

Osamu scoffed, bumping his knee against Atsumu’s. “I’ll manage. Got help now.” He said, turning to you with a look so soft it practically glowed before he pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there longer than necessary. “I got everything I need right here.”

The blonde made a gagging sound. “Jesus. Get a room.”

Osamu just laughed, unbothered, and reached over to smack the back of his twin’s head.

“You’re the one I’m worried about.” He said, mockingly serious.

“Yeah? Well, don’t cry too hard when you realize you need me to fix the wifi.” He shot back, smirking.

“You barely know how to work a microwave.” Osamu deadpanned.

“Is not even the same thing, dumbass!” Atsumu grumbled, but there was no heat behind it—only something fond and aching underneath.

When Atsumu glanced sideways and caught Osamu looking back at him—steady, steady in a way only his brother could be—something inside him settled.

They were going to be okay.

Maybe this wasn’t about losing something. Or staying behind. Maybe it was just about growing up. And Atsumu was okay with it.

Notes:

You can follow and interact more with me on tumblr: @gabseyoo. <3

Chapter 9: Especially — Sakusa Kiyoomi

Summary:

content: best friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining.

Kiyoomi was slouched in the passenger seat, head tilted against the window, hair falling over the side of his face that isn’t swelling. You were standing by the open door, a half-used first aid kit you just bought resting over the dashboard, your heart somewhere in your throat.

Still, your hands were steady—imbued with a tenderness that defied your inner turmoil—as you dabbed antiseptic onto the split skin above his eye.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath, flinching slightly. “That stings.”

“Someone punched you in the face.” You said flatly, biting back the waver in your voice. “You’re lucky it’s just stinging.”

Kiyoomi huffed out a small laugh through his nose. “That’s a point.”

You glanced up at him, a quiet beat of silence hanging in the car park air. The pharmacy glowed behind you, too bright against the night. Everything felt suspended in this moment—the party, the fight, the adrenaline, the look in your best friend’s eyes when that guy grabbed your wrist too hard.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You said softly, fingers trembling just slightly as you smooth a gauze pad over his brow.

He turned his head slowly, carefully, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your throat feel dry. “He put his hands on you.”

“I could’ve handled it.”

“I know.” He replied, just as quiet. “But I’m not gonna stand there and watch some drunk asshole talk to you like that. Grab you like that. I’d never let anyone disrespect you.”

Your hand stilled against his skin as you looked at the floor, trying to clear your thoughts. The words didn’t feel light. They felt like something that’s been sitting between you two for a long time. 

You have been friends since high school, when you were still figuring yourselves out and somehow kept ending up side by side. He became one of the few people you could rely on without question. He’s seen you at your best and worst, and you’ve seen him just the same. What you had was easy. Solid. The kind of friendship that feels like home. 

But lately, it had started to feel like more than that.

After a few seconds, you lifted your gaze again, your eyes tracing the damage on his face. The split lip, the bleeding brow, the faint redness blooming on his cheekbone. His eye was already beginning to swell. God, you wanted to cry. He’s never been in a fight in his life—but he threw a punch for you .

“Even if it gets you this?” You whispered, your thumb gently brushing just below the cut on his lip. His skin was warm beneath your touch, a stark contrast to the cool night air.

“Especially.”

The silence that fell between you after his response was thick. Not awkward. Not uncomfortable. Just heavy .

“You’re such an idiot.” You breathed, the words trembling at the edges.

A faint smile touched his lips at the familiarity of your words. You’ve been calling him an idiot probably every day in every tone imaginable since you were teens. 

“I couldn’t help it.” He murmured, gently wrapping his hand around your wrist, the same one that the guy at the party had grabbed so tightly an hour ago. “Seeing someone treat you like that—I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry in my life.”

Your breath caught, fingers still resting lightly on the side of his face.

“I care about you.” He said quietly, but not like it was casual. He said it like it meant something. Like it had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for longer than he’d admit. “More than you think.”

The beat of your heart quickened. You knew what he meant, and it felt like thousands of emotions running over you at the same time in a second, because you cared about him too. 

More than he thought.

It hit you all at once—how close he was. How long he’s been here. How your hand was still on his face, cupping his cheek, the gauze pad now somewhere on the floor. 

The next thing that came out of his lips, in a low, almost scared tone, caused you to stop breathing for a few seconds.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you right now?”

Something inside you tipped, like stepping to the edge of something with no way back. A fleeting fear pressed against your ribs. If you did this, everything would change. If you didn’t, you might regret it forever—and you were not the kind of person who liked to live with regrets.

“That depends.” You whisper, a soft grin making its way to your face. “Are you only saying that because you’re concussed?”

He chuckled at your words. “I’m not.” He said. I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

You lean in first.

He meets you halfway.

The kiss was soft, careful, like a breath caught between years of friendship and something finally shifting into place. His hand came up, slow and warm, settling gently at the back of your neck, like he’s been waiting for this permission. Like he’s been waiting for you .

When you pull back, it’s only just enough to breathe. You’re still so close, foreheads nearly touching, his eyes searching yours like he’s still trying to believe this really happened.

Then he smiled—a small, bruised, beautiful thing. You loved his smile. It was one of those rare, unguarded expressions he only ever showed you. 

“Totally worth the punch.” He said before joining your lips again.

And this time, there’s no hesitation at all.

Notes:

You can follow and interact more with me on tumblr: @gabseyoo. <3

Chapter 10: Torture — Sakusa Kiyoomi

You were going to kill him. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday, Sakusa Kiyoomi was going to pay.

He looked completely unbothered—actually, no, worse. He looked refreshed . Like the incline of this mountain was doing wonders for his skin and cardiovascular system. 

Meanwhile, you were sweating through your shirt, leaning your entire body weight on a questionable walking stick you found around here—you weren’t entirely sure if it was helping or if you were just using it to dramatically display how close you were to giving up on life. Like, honestly, you were considering lying down and let the forest just take you. Complete the circle of life. 

Kiyoomi, on the other hand, was a picture of athletic bliss. His steps were steady, controlled. Breathing perfectly regulated. Hair slightly messy under his cap, a small layer of sweat glistening on his neck, which somehow only made him more attractive. He wasn’t even winded. In fact, he looked like he enjoyed this.

“You’re doing great.” He said, glancing over his shoulder at you, voice far too chipper for someone who had been walking uphill for what felt like the past three years. “Pace is a little... geriatric. But impressive stamina, babe.”

You glared at him through your exhaustion, if you had the strength, you would undoubtedly strangle him. “I hope a squirrel throws a nut at your head.”

Kiyoomi just laughed, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary, thumb brushing your cheek with gentle affection.

“You’re cute when you suffer.”

“Say that again and I’m pushing you off this trail.”

“Fair.” He leaned in, kissing your temple, then your cheek, and finally a quick peck on your lips. 

Despite the ache in your legs, the sweat in your eyes, and the betrayal of your lungs, you found yourself smiling. Annoyingly so.

Well, maybe you just needed a little affection to cheer you up. 

You stood up straighter, as if the action would work to convince yourself that you could end this path of torture. “Okay. Let’s finish this. How much further?”

Kiyoomi’s eyes sparkled like he’d just been waiting for you to ask.

“Just two more kilometers.”

Your smile dropped. “I take back every nice thing I’ve ever thought about you.”

He was already walking ahead, adjusting his cap—which, frankly, had no right to look that good on him. “You say that every time we do something active that doesn’t involve us being naked.”

“And yet you never learn—” You muttered. Then, louder, “Besides, I’d prefer to be naked and in bed right now.”

“We can do that when we get home.”

You scoffed, stepping around a particularly rude-looking rock. “Oh, baby. You’re not getting anything when we get home. Or the next three years. I’ve used up all my energy. It’s gone. I’m done.”

“You can just lie there, I’ll do all the work.” 

Well, that was kind of tempting…

“Just shut up and let’s finish this. You convinced me.” 

He laughed again, that warm, low sound carrying through the trees. Then, without looking back, he held out his hand behind him. You stared at it for a second and sighed, reaching forward to lace your fingers with his.

His hand curled around yours easily, firmly, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze as you continued walking, one tired step after another.

Maybe you’d survive this after all.

You hoped. 

Chapter 11: Parking Lessons — Sakusa Kiyoomi

“Okay, now turn the wheel—no, the other way.” Kiyoomi said, his usual composure cracking as you approached the tight parking space between a sleek sedan and a bulky SUV.

You bit your lip, hands trembling slightly on the steering wheel. The gap looked impossibly narrow, barely larger than his car. “Baby, I really don’t think—”

“You’ve got this.” He said, though his knuckles were white where he gripped the door handle. “Just... slowly turn left and—wait, no, that’s too much!”

Your heart hammered as the side mirror came dangerously close to the sedan. “I can’t do this.” You muttered, ready to give up entirely.

That’s when Kiyoomi’s composure finally snapped. “Okay, okay—stop.” His seatbelt clicked as he unbuckled it, leaning across the center console until his chest nearly pressed against your shoulder. One of his hands covered yours on the steering wheel, long fingers wrapping around yours with steady warmth.

“I’ve got the wheel.” He said, his voice dropping to that low, focused tone he used during volleyball matches. “You just work the pedals. Reverse slowly—really slowly.”

Your breath caught in your throat. This close, you could smell his cologne and feel the warmth radiating from his body. There was something incredibly attractive about seeing him like this—sleeves rolled up, dark curls slightly mussed, taking complete control of the situation while still trusting you with the gas and brake.

“Turn it more.” He murmured, his grip guiding the wheel with practiced precision. “Good, now forward a little... stop. Back again.”

His quiet confidence was mesmerizing. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, like he was setting up for a perfect spike. You found yourself stealing glances at his concentrated expression, the way his jaw tightened with focus.

“There.” He said softly as the car slid perfectly into the space. “See? You did it.”

Well he did it, but you didn’t even argue that, because his hand lingered on yours for just a moment longer, and when you turned to look at him, you realized he was much closer than you’d thought.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I can’t believe I just got turned on by parallel parking.”

Kiyoomi blinked, then let out a surprised laugh—half scoff, half genuine amusement. “Are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” You said, heat rising to your cheeks but unable to look away from his dark eyes. “That might’ve been the best foreplay we’ve had.”

His eyebrows shot up, and then that sexy smirk of his tugged at the corner of his mouth. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Well, if you’re that impressed by my parking skills, maybe we should head home and I can show you what else these hands can do.”

“I already know what they can do.” You teased.

“Do you?” He murmured, his voice dropping even lower as his thumb traced across your knuckles. “Because I’m pretty sure I haven’t shown you everything yet.”

Your pulse quickened. This man. “Just let me get us out of here first.” You gestured at the narrow space surrounding the car.

Before you could even reach for the gearshift, Kiyoomi was already opening his door. “You know what? I’ve got this one too.”

And well— watching him now in the driver’s seat as he expertly maneuvered out of the tight spot with the same focused precision only made you more eager to get home.

Chapter 12: Pranking him — Miya Atsumu

Notes:

content: established relationship, msby!atsumu, suggestive. word count: 0,5k.

Atsumu was sprawled across the couch, scrolling through his phone after practice while you moved around the living room. You’d been watching those viral prank videos all week, and when you noticed his water bottle had rolled under the coffee table, a mischievous idea struck.

“Atsumu.” You called softly, positioning yourself in front of the couch.

“Yeah, babe?” He glanced up from his phone, but his attention was immediately captured when you slowly sank to your knees in front of him.

His eyes widened as you began gathering your hair up, twisting it into a ponytail with deliberate movements while maintaining eye contact.

His phone slipped from his suddenly slack fingers, clattering onto the couch. “Oh—” He breathed, sitting up straighter as his cheeks flushed pink. “Right now?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as you secured your hair with the elastic around your wrist. His breathing had noticeably quickened, and he was looking at you with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

“I mean, if you want—” He started, his voice slightly hoarse as he shifted forward on the couch.

Instead of what he was expecting, you leaned to the side and reached under the coffee table, pulling out his water bottle with a triumphant smile. “There it is! I saw it roll under here earlier.”

The silence stretched for a long, painful beat.

“Ya've got to be kiddin' me.” Atsumu groaned, throwing his head back against the couch cushions. His face was now completely red, and he covered it with both hands. “That was just cruel.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore, doubling over at his mortified expression. “Your face! Oh my god, Baby, you should’ve seen yourself!”

“Evil.” He mumbled from behind his hands. “Absolutely evil.”

Still giggling, you climbed onto the couch beside him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “Aw, I’m sorry, baby. I saw the opportunity and took it.” You said, leaving little kisses on his hands. “Besides, you’re just so cute when you get flustered.”

Atsumu peeked at you through his fingers, his hair mussed from practice and his cheeks still burning. “You think this is funny?”

“Hilarious.” You admitted, pressing more kisses to his heated cheeks until he finally dropped his hands and pulled you closer.

“You’re terrible.” He mumbled against your hair, but his arms tightened around you affectionately. “Got my hopes up and everything.”

You pulled back to meet his eyes, still sparkling with mischief. “But you love me anyway.”

“Unfortunately.” He said with an exaggerated sigh, though his smile gave him away completely. His hands settled on your waist as he tilted his head, giving you that familiar cocky grin. “You know, after puttin’ me through emotional trauma like that, I think you owe me.”

“Oh really?” You laughed. “And what exactly do I owe you?”

His grin widened as he pulled you closer. “I’m pretty sure you can figure somethin’ out.”

Let’s just say you more than made up for it when you got down on your knees for him again a few minutes later.

Chapter 13: First Christmas

Summary:

content: female reader, dad!atsumu, establised relationship. word count: 0.9k.

The mall is a wonderland of twinkling lights and festive decorations, and you can barely contain your excitement as you weave through the crowds with Atsumu’s hand in yours. This is your first Christmas together—really together—and everything feels magical and new.

“Oh! Tsumu, look at these!” You pull him toward a display of adorable dolls in the toy store window, your eyes lighting up. “Aren’t they precious? My niece would absolutely love this one—the one with the little winter coat!” You pick up a doll with rosy cheeks and a tiny knitted scarf, turning it over in your hands. “She’s been asking for a doll she can dress up, and look, this one comes with extra outfits! What do you think?”

You’re already imagining the little girl’s face on Christmas morning when you notice Atsumu hasn’t responded. You glance up at him, and your smile falters. He’s staring at the shelves of toys—action figures, building blocks, toy cars lined up in neat rows—but his expression is distant, almost melancholy.

“Tsumu?”  You set the doll down, concern flooding through you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He blinks, seeming to come back to himself, and offers you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing, baby. The doll’s great.”

But you know him better than that now. You step closer, your hand finding his arm. “Come on. Talk to me. I know something’s on your mind.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, his jaw working like he’s trying to find the right words. Finally, he exhales slowly and runs his hand through his blonde hair. “It’s stupid. I’m being stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” You say softly.

Atsumu looks down at you, and there’s something vulnerable in his brown eyes that makes your chest tight. “It’s just... this is the first Christmas my son hasn’t asked for any toys.” His voice is quiet, almost embarrassed. “He wants video games this year. That new console, a couple of games for it. When I asked if he wanted anything else, he just shrugged and said no.”

You squeeze his arm gently, encouraging him to continue.

“Last year, you know what he asked for? Hot Wheels. The whole track set with the loop-de-loop.” A sad smile tugs at his lips. “He spent weeks watching videos of that track in my phone, leavin’ little hints everywhere. And now…” He gestures helplessly at the toys surrounding you. “Not a single toy. Not one.”

“Oh, baby—” You murmur.

“It’s hard, seeing him grow up so fast.” His voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat. “I know I should be proud, and I am, but... he’s only ten. Feels like I blinked and my little boy who wanted to be just like dad, who carried around toy volleyballs and made me mad when he didn’t pick up his toys from the living room—” He breaks off, shaking his head. “Now he’s into gaming and wants to hang out with his friends more than me. It’s all happenin’ so fast.”

“But you’re into video games too.” You point out gently, trying to find the silver lining. “Maybe you two can play together?”

Atsumu’s smile is sad, appreciative of your effort but unconvinced. “Yeah, I know. And we do sometimes, but... it’s not the same, you know?” He looks back at the toy cars on the shelf. “Toys made him feel like he was still a kid. When he was playing with his cars or his planes or his action figures, he was just... little. Innocent. He’d make me play with him. We’d build tracks together on the living room floor, race ‘em, crash ‘em into each other. He needed me for that. With video games, he can just... go online and play with his friends. I’m not really part of it anymore.”

Your heart aches for him. You set down your shopping bag and take both of his hands in yours, making him look at you. “Atsumu, listen to me. He’s growing up, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s leaving you behind. He still wants to be like you—he just shows it differently now.”

“You think?” He asks quietly.

“I know.” You reach up to cup his cheek. “He’s becoming his own person, and that’s something to celebrate. But he’s still your little boy. That doesn’t change just because his interests do. And the fact that this makes you sad shows exactly what kind of father you are—the kind who cherishes every stage, even when it’s hard to let go of the last one.”

Atsumu’s eyes are glassy now, and he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you right there in the middle of the toy store. “When’d you get so wise?” He mumbles against your hair.

“I’ve always been wise. You’re just now noticing.” You tease gently, and you feel him huff out a small laugh.

When he pulls back, there’s a soft smile on his face—real this time. He cups your face with both hands and kisses you, slow and sweet and full of gratitude. “What would I do without you?” He whispers against your lips.

“Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” You whisper back, kissing him once more.

He keeps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Alright, let’s get that doll for your niece. And then maybe we can look at those video games together. I want to get him the best ones—the ones he’ll actually be excited about on Christmas morning.”

“Now you’re talking.” You beam up at him. “And Tsumu? He’s lucky to have you as his dad.”

The smile he gives you is brighter now, warmer, and when he kisses your temple, you can feel the tension melting from his shoulders. Outside, the snow begins to fall, and wrapped in Atsumu’s arms, this first Christmas together already feels perfect.