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luvtsumu · 1 year

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could yall imagine msby4, osamu and suna all at your grad at the same time!!!! i think it'd be so hectic and endearing :-(

they'd all come with their own boquet of flowers, probably having coordinated prior on what they're getting you!! the agreement was definitely small bouquets so that you'd at least be able to carry them all (BUT???? WHY WOULD BOKUTO NOT GIVE YOU AN ENTIRE GARDEN???? YOU DESERVE IT!!!!!)

atsumu is def a bit annoyed that bokuto got a bigger bouquet for you, BUT atsumu is the only one who got you a cute helium balloom!!

they'd be early to the ceremony, seeing you before and after!! you told them that it wasn't important for them to come so early (you had to be there 90 mins prior to the ceremony itself to get your gown, degree, and professional photos taken) but they insisted

they as in hinata, bokuto and atsumu... they just couldn't wait

sakusa, osamu and suna were more than happy to arrive on time... but for carpooling purposes and actually being able to find parking, going all together was the better choice

but what's 90 minutes?!?!??! time went by so fast with the number of pictures you got with them even before you got your gown

you'd obviously get solo pictures with everyone, all of them smiling in their photos that'd let everyone know how proud they are of you!!!

hinata definitely has his cheek pressed up against yours (careful not to smudge any of your make up though if you're wearing any!!), has an arm around your shoulders, and has his other pointing at your degree with you hold it! his smile is so bright and his eyes squint up. he giggles as you two take the photo which ends up making you laugh and show the camera a cheesy smile.

bokuto would have an arm around your shoulders too!! resting his cheek on top of yours and practically caging you as he gives the camera two thumbs up!! you'd smile big and mimic his pose which gets everyone laughing since you honestly give off "mini me" vibes with him

atsumu for sssuuurrreee sticks his tongue out in his photo with you. arm around your shoulders--not really since he puts up a peace sign behind your head to give you bunny ears--and his other hand pointing towards you. he'd wink at the camera too and they'd end up catching a photo of you rolling your eyes at him (that's the one he'd post LMAO)

sakusa, of course, is a little more reserved--but he's so proud of you and your accomplishments!! his arm still wraps around you respectfully and he smiles for the camera. he takes off his mask completely for you so you both get a good photo. he's definitely the most formal when it came to taking a photo with you (but anyone would be able to see how happy he is to see you graduating with the way his eyes squint up and his smile looks so natural)

osamu is super natural when taking a photo with you!! he's got an arm around your waist which atsumu calls him out for (he flips atsumu off LOL) and you laugh. someone gets a picture of this before the actual proper pose hahahaha. he'd tilt his head towards you and point at your degree, his smile cheesy and body language proud

suna, same as osamu tbh, but he practically headlocks you with how close he brings you with his arm. he smiles, rests his cheek against your head, and smiles at the camera while pointing at your degree. his smile is smth everyone gets caught off guard with--since when was he so soft?!

during the ceremony, the rowdy ones get restless because why the hell is it taking so long ahlddjsjdjdjdj but!!!!!

as soon as they see you getting ready to walk, they're EXCITED

everyone is up from their seats, clapping and cheering for you as loud as they can (except maybe sakusa, but he's still definitely standing and clapping obnoxiously loud) as soon as your name is called and they cheer allllll the way until you walk off the stage

the rest of the graduates and audience laugh at their enthusiasm, but, of course, find it endearing as they're yelling things along the lines of "that's our graduate!!!" "walk that stage y/n!!!!" "i love you!!!! give me your autograph!!!" "thats 40 thousand dollars right there!!!!"

and of course some people know who they are!!! you're definitely the talk of the town and some people are jealous you've got the rowdy volleyboys cheering you on so excitedly!!

after the ceremony, more pictures are taken (lots of group photos and silly ones too!!) and this time even with your family.

your family thanks them for coming and comments on how hilarious it was to hear them cheering. it gives them a great feeling (esp one of comfort!) knowing that you are loved so dearly by others!

the boys are also invited for dinner and who are they to say no?!?!?!?

later, they're definitely all posting photos on instagram!! hinats posts on his story and makes an actual post for you--he filmed your walk and definitely posted that, probably captioning it with "slaying their best slay rn 😫" LMAO,,, he also makes a cute collage of you, obviously wanting to highlight YOU as the graduate, for his story. for his post, he makes a photo of you two together the first photo, followed by a bunch more, a group photo, and then his favourite solo picture of you giving a cheesy smile to the camera as you hold up your degree!! he'd caption his post with a short cheesy paragraph about being proud of you and knowing you'll have a great future

bokuto also posts a video of your walk on his story and his yelling is so loud 😭😭😭 everyone who watches it definitely turns down their volume LOL but it's super sweet!! he follows it with a photo of you two together and just sticker bombs it. he also makes a post, making the first picture one he took of the bouquet he got you, then his favourite picture of the both of you, following it with more duo photos, a group photo, and even a photo of him and the boys while they waited. he captioned it with "SO HAPPY FOR @ YNUSERNAME !!! CONGRADS AND REMEBER ME WHEN YOU'RE FAMOUS!!! LOVE YOU!!!!!!!"

atsumu spams his story of your entire graduation actually LOL it started with him getting ready, him with osamu, the both of them getting you each a bouquet, him getting a balloon, them meeting up with the other boys, the hectic car ride that consisted of a loud karaoke session much to sakusa's (the driver) dismay, a video of them seeing you for the first time and how your face lit up, two 6-photo collages before the ceremony (mostly pictures of the both of you striking many different poses), a video of you getting ready to walk and him saying "it's happeenninng!", a video of you walking and his screaming (he's the one who yelled that he loves you and wants an autograph for suuurree), and bunncch of photos afterwards. he posts one group photo followed by his favourite photo of the two of you on his feed and captions it with "so proud of this scholar!!! c's get degrees!" and you're definitely defending your honour in the comments when you eventually see the post LMAO

sakusa, more reserved tbh, posts a picture of you walking the stage on his story! he has a video but thats for safekeeping and he fucking hates how loud atsumu was jsdkdjshdkdjsjdj anyways,,,, he tags you in the story, follows it with a cute photo collage with a couple cute stickers that said congrats! and some confetti, and he also posts a group photo on his feed. he captions it with something sweet and simple! "congradulations to @ ynusername. so proud of you and your success :-)"

osamu posts a video of you walking on his story (volume included LOL) and he's also cheering for you! a part of the video he posts, the camera turns to him and suna and they both exaggerate their cheering. they laugh together but it gets cut off (((and everyone who views it replays it just to see that part again))))). he posts a lot of pictures on his story, so obviously proud of you, and he also gets pictures at dinner! he's late for the actual feed post because he forgot LOL and the first picture is of him, you and atsumu together! it's a silly photo, of course, and it's follow by proper ones, duo photos, a group photo, and a cute picture of you! he captions it with "sry it's late :P happy grad to our happy grad <3" and ofc the boys put him on blast for being late

suna is similar to atsumu (not surprisingly) but not as aggressive. he definitely makes it more mysterious as to where he's going on his story as he posts a mirror selfie of him all dressed up (practically a thirst trap ugh....) and even posts the cute bouquet he got you without context LOL. after that, the next story post is a video of you scurrying over to him and the rest of the group. he posts a picture of the two of you together (def a .5 pic) and captions it with a simple "with the cutest graduate" !! of course he films your walk, posts it, and follows it with a collage of photos! his post for his feed is of the two of you (his favourite photo ofc), followed by a group photo, one with the boys, one with osamu and sakusa, a selfie, and then a silly one of you (probably a picture of you zoned out during dinner because of how tired you were LOL). he captions it with "cograds @ ynusername B] slay your best slay 🫰🏼"

anyway 😭😭😭 grad with these guys would definitely be so much fun

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

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Halooo!!!

Can I have some headcanons on what's it like being the miya twin's little sister? Like how each act with their sis and all? (who also may or may not have a crush on sakusa hehe)

Hmmm! Okay! I’ll try this out! Been a while since I’ve even touched Haikyuu so let’s see if I remember the Miya Twins enough to write for them! Also… these pretty short tbh! Sorry! Hope, it’s okay!

Older Brothers! Osamu Miya and Atsumu Miya

God. You think the Miya Twins being just with each other is bad enough? Nope. It’s even more chaotic when you throw their little sister into the bunch. It’s a big ball of mess and disaster

Osamu prefers you to be independent and teaches you to cook so you can care for yourself. Atsumu, on the other hand, wants you to always rely on him so he can take care of you

Hence why the twins bicker and fight over you. They have contrasting ways of treating you and it annoys both of them. Osamu is more responsible and level-headed whilst Atsumu is more wild and rambunctious. Osamu bonds with you over painting and café hangouts, Atsumu bonds with you over arcade visits and general mischief

Osamu wants his little sister to behave as a good, functional, well-mannered lady of society whilst Atsumu believes his twin is trying to control their sister and tries to encourage you to be whoever you want to be. Osamu doesn’t like his twin trying to support their sister being destructive

Like with the laidback and stern parent. You got the laidback older brother and the stern older brother. Atsumu treats you like a old friend and doesn’t mind being so open and casual like Osamu is more like a protective momma bear and wants you to never take influence from Atsumu

I swear. Osamu isn’t controlling, he just wants the best for you. He just can’t keep his twin from convincing you to go rob a store— go hold Aran at gunpoint— go have fun by pulling a prank on Sakusa

Speaking on Sakusa. Your brothers are not happy with your crush on Sakusa. You’re younger than him and he is so bland and lifeless. You deserve so much better and detaching you from this crush is one of the only times Osamu and Atsumu will willingly work together, instead of fighting over opposing views. They both agree you deserve better than their own teammate

Should Sakusa even just talk to you, Osamu and Atsumu are pouncing on him right away and trying to threaten his ass into avoiding you like the plague. It’s protective, loving intentions but wrongly executed big brother behaviour(whilst Atsumu has it worst, Osamu is as tame as possible). You wish they weren’t so protective over you…

Osamu prefers handholding where you have your own space, Atsumu loves holding by the shoulder so there is no personal space

Osamu is very proud but hides it under his mellow, strong character whilst Atsumu acts on his pride and brags. Anytime you win a reward, Osamu’s recording you getting the reward for both himself and his parents to admire whilst Atsumu is being your biggest cheerleader, loud and wildly calling out your praises

The Twins would prefer you do not watch their Volleyball match practice but do attend their official games. Having your approval and feeling your pride towards them helps make them feel unstoppable

Overall. These brothers have contrasting treatment of you but the things they share is that they love you so much, that they’ll support and adore you, that they’ll always protect you and that you’re better than everybody around you

It’s pretty cute how affectionate and lovey-dovey and cuddly these twins are to you. Atsumu will express his affections outloud and in public with no shame, Osamu prefers to do it in private, domestic locations since his self-awareness is too high and his protectiveness is as high

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hnychn · 5 months

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HAIKYUU !!

—— ;; karasuno

♡ — KAGEYAMA TOBIO

why are you so quiet ;; don’t yell at me for walking on the eggshells you placed in this house

♡ — TSUKISHIMA KEI

my better half ;; i love you more than words or actions will ever tell you, please understand that.

♡ — TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE

♡ — SHIMIZU KIYOKO

people i’ve been ;; i have been millions of people in this lifetime; a shoulder to cry on, a strong aid by your side, your first confidant. please, let me be your lover.

—— ;; aoba johsai

♡ — OIKAWA TOORU

do you think about us? ;; i’m too late to be your first love, but i’ll always be your favourite

♡ — IWAIZUMI HAJIME

♡ — MATSUKAWA ISSEI

♡ — HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

♡ — KYOTANI KENTARO

—— ;; nekoma

♡ — KUROO TETSURO

♡ — KENMA KOZUME

all the ways we said goodbye ;; and here they stood, two kids in love; their hearts separated by distance but their souls connected for eternity

♡ — YAMAMOTO TAKETORA

♡ — LEV HAIBA

♡ — ALISA HAIBA

—— ;; fukurodani

♡ — BOKUTO KOTARO

♡ — AKAASHI KEIJI

—— ;; shiratorizawa

♡ — USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

♡ — SEMI EITA

♡ — TENDO SATORI

♡ — GOSHIKI TSUTOMU

—— ;; inarizaki

♡ — KITA SHINSUKE

♡ — OJIRO ARAN

♡ — MIYA ATSUMU

♡ — MIYA OSAMU

♡ — SUNA RINTARO

—— ;; miscellaneous

♡ — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

♡ — KOMORI MOTOYA

♡ — AONE TAKANOBU

♡ — TERUSHIMA YUJI

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hadilsblog · 2 months

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Slam هديل i have a request 🥺

Can you write a story about the Miya twins having a baby brother ( age 5) and them taking care of him

🐰~

I'm really sorry for not responding, I've

been very busy with exams, projects and preparing for Ramadan 😭😭

I apologize for any spelling mistake

Warning: nothing

Fluff

RAMADAN MUBARAK EVERYONE 🫶🏻

Miya twin take care of their younger sister

"Take care of your little sister until I return." That was the message written on the note stuck on the fridge.

Atsumu complained as he showed the note to his twin who was cooking breakfast. "She's sleeping now, so let's not wake her to avoid any mess," he suggested.

"Is that the smell of fried eggs?" the younger one interrupted, taking a seat at the dining table where a plate of fried eggs and toast was waiting for her. "Thank you, Osamu," she said, wiping the sleep from her eyes before digging in.

"You've burnt the eggs, Osamu," she said with annoyance, lifting the egg with her fork. "it made with love, not skill."

"It's my turn to watch TV!" the younger one shouted, trying to grab the remote from her brother's hand.

"You watched your dumb show yesterday!" he raised his hand to prevent her from reaching it, only to have her grab his hair and pull it down. "Don't you dare say Tom and Jerry are dumb!" In the midst of their battle, the gray-haired one was enjoying popcorn while watching them.

Quietly, she sat on her brother's back, watching her favorite show after winning the battle.

The show was interrupted by a knock on the door, prompting the siblings to look at each other in surprise. Osamu got up to see who it was.

"It's Mom," he whispered in horror, making the others tremble in fear as they looked at the messy house.

The knocking grew louder, and they began to clean the house in a rush. Atsumu swept the floor, Osamu dusted the surfaces, and the youngest one put things back in their places.

The door suddenly burst open, revealing the angry mother. The siblings swallowed hard as they watched their mother advance towards them.

The youngest heard crying and opened her eyes to see her mother holding the twins by their ears, scolding them for the mess in the house.

"Why aren't you punishing her for this mess?" the siblings grumbled at their mother's favoritism towards their younger sister.

"She's just a child, you fools!"

#platonic reader #sister reader #miya twins #miya atsumu #miya osamu #haikyuu #lil sis #haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu x sister reader #Haikyuu x platonic reader

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miya-twins · 4 months

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one of my personal favourite things is that basically everyone in the haikyuu fandom agrees that if you were to marry a miya, you become a miya yourself

doesn't matter what the ship is. doesn't matter how many people the miyas are dating. everyone else gotta change their names.

like no matter how in love the twins may be, they can't just stop being The Miya Twins like that's who they are that's who they've always been, ya scrub better not believe yer more important than their literal twin brother. sure they fight but this is where they show loyalty to the end

#we ship to our hearts' content but we acknowledge sometimes the platonic relationship is the most important one #and I think that's beautiful #miya osamu #miya atsumu #miya twins

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kitas-cleaning-supplies · 3 months

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chasing unwritten lines by strawberryblackcrown

beta'd by @slutawara / gaia

chapter 1/5 | T | 4,761 words

Bokuto hasn't been on a date in half a decade, Hinata decides to do something about this. Inunaki, Atsumu, and Sakusa all get dragged into the chaos. // a silly msby fic told through multiple outsider povs

#IT'S THE BOKUTO FIC !!!! i have been working on this since november #it's taken so long :')#but i'm about halfway through writing it so it's really to be released into the wild <3 #haikyuu #bokuto koutarou #hinata shoyo #miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #inunaki shion #sakuatsu #<- they're. uh. in an undefined relationship. can be platonic if you're not a coward. can be romantic if you are #my fic #haikyuu fic recs

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jamminlocks · 10 months

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ok hear me out, fake dating atsumu x reader fic. proper fake dating, no smut, no fluff, not even soft feelings towards each other, one-sided or both sides. its just atsumu and reader faking a relationship. no one knows its fake, even osamu. but they fake date so hard that when the broke up, everyone else was sad.

#one day i'll write this #idk how to tag this since its platonic #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #locked jam noise

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angelsdiaryy · 2 years

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crying thinking about being the new guy manager that the miya twins are obsessed with.

tw:transphobia, bullying mention

they stumble over each other trying to get your attention which only leads to an argument that you need to grab kita to break up. what they don’t know is that you secretly find their clumsy acts of affection quite cute and endearing.

you start to open up slowly and return their affections. standing in between them to link arms w the both of them causing them to flush. making them lean down to pat their heads and give them ‘good jobs’. they start to fight less and less in front of you knowing you’ll only frown and scold them for misbehaving during practice.

they also seem to show up right when you need them. some guys and girls are bullying for you being so close to them and for pretending to be a guy just to get their attention. soon enough you feel two hands on your shoulders and ‘tsumu’s voice deep w anger. “why don’t you all just fuck off and leave our manager alone.”, he says while samu wraps an arm around your shoulder comfortingly. they all just stare at them before running off some girls even crying.

“did they do anything to you?”, they ask in unison causing you to laugh. “no, i’m okay. they just crowded me after the last bell rang.”, you say and they nod. you smile, happy that you have these boys in your life. “come on or we’ll be late for practice.”

#miya twins #miya atsumu #miya osumu #haikyuu x trans reader #haikyuu x male reader #you can take this as romantic or platonic whichever you like #maxsdaydream~

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coconutlimeverbena · 2 years

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I really wish that fic writers would tag the friendships/other bonds in their fics as well. People want to read those too, I promise!

Sometimes I search for fics that feature interactions between certain characters and only a few come up, but weeks later, I'll read one that has exactly what I was looking for, but just untagged.

I don't mean to tag literally every single interaction; that will create a Sexy Times with Wangxian wall of tags, and NO one wants that.

I'll use Haikyuu as an example. Let's say you have a KageHina fic that focuses on Hinata's friendship with Kenma or someone; tagging it as 'Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma' will help people who are looking for that interaction, regardless of who the main pairing is. This especially helps with interactions that we never got to see in canon, like a SakuAtsu fic I read where Sakusa and Yachi were best friends, yet it wasn't tagged.

Remember: The more accurately you tag, the easier it is for people to find what they're looking for.

#ao3 tips #ao3 tags #haikyuu #SakuAtsu #Kagehina #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #yachi hitoka #platonic friendships #my posts #sakusa kiyoomi #miya Atsumu

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ermespop · 7 months

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i need a mind reader or a psychic to please tell me PLEASE WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY HEAD

so I was there living life in my kitchen, washing the dishes, creating haikyuu scenarios in my head, and somehow those scenarios led me to meeting Osamu during the twins birthday? ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌

anw

sooo, scenarios led to more scenarios and now I'm simping for osamu

...

ಠ⁠‿⁠ಠ

i mean I'm not complaining, just, surprised that it happened because of my own brain O.o

(omw to read Osamu ff)

#what a turn of events #my afternoon went from 0 to 100 just on those 20 min #ig i have something new to look forward to...#..osamu ff #ehehehehe (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~ <3 #wait omg is this adulting but haikyuu themed #went from platonic w atsumu to romantic w osamu 😵‍💫#ermes;void #haikyuu!!#miya osamu #osamu

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narumi-gens · 10 months

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don’t tell anyone but maybe I want to write about platonic!Osamu and platonic!reader from atsumu’s POV…

#like a Drabble series of all the times atsumu’s has to get involved #from setting you guys up to babysitting to everything in between #don’t hold me to this #mel talks #platonic

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soranihimawari · 1 year

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Bring me Home

A story of love lost & found

Word count: 4.8+

Pairing: noble!osamu x maid!reader (link to fashion)

2nd pairing: platonicnoble!atsumu x maid!reader

Warnings: angst->fluff//making out//secret relationships

Rating: 🔞—MA themes involved & allusions to sex

Osamu & yn vibes on god fr fr^

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑗𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑙 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒． 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠．

“And that concludes our history lesson your graces,” The tutor says, closing his book. Around the older gentleman sat two twin royals who were board out of their skull because their mother had to have their lessons earlier in the day. Typically afterwards, the three of them would stroll the market checking on their subjects and the like.

Raising the twins of this noble family did come with a price: they did like to test one’s patience as children often do. However, when the time came for merit formal education to begin at seven, the twins had finally showed their personalities through and through. There was the brash and abrasive Atsumu who wasn’t afraid in challenging the stray dogs to a fight and win (by bringing home a pup or three one afternoon); and his brother who instead of leaving their abode, chose to make rancid concoctions in the kitchen while listening to the housekeepers (and chefs) gossip often blackmailing them in order for them to keep their job.

More times than they can count, their care takers might have dumped them into the knight training grounds to get a moment of peace. Sword fighting and hand to hand combat under the tutelage of the Kitas and Ojiros had exceptional results: those that guard their boys with their lives were the ones most dedicated to attend war council meetings (luckily there has been no true signs of uprisings elsewhere in this part of the country).

This continues until the boys roughly reach age seventeen. By then, a majority of their formal education has been concluded—both knew how the serving class’ wealth added to their own (studies had shown happier homes equates to the boost of morale in those who did work at their estate); those who were charged to care for them s as children were now much older, so whenever someone was amicably relieved, the boys were now wise enough to not only apologize for their misdeeds, but often invited them back for special celebrations… like today.

Today you were running late. It was an accident as you thought you had placed every formal garb upon the back of your wooden chair. Unfortunately, you did not and now here you were with nothing but a chemise, tan boots, and rough textured hair sticking in all different directions.

Your reflection in the oval dresser mirror was a bit dirty due to the dust in the lowly room where you’ve lived since Ms. Arimoto had retired two years ago. An apprentice to the gardeners, you seemed to pick up the work right after she had showed you the ropes. Often you were also tasked with covering for any housekeeping staff as life tends to send certain ones curveballs (like when Ms. Arimoto’s brother had his first child; Ani-chan got married and moved to his in-laws territory; and chef hikaru had recently came back from burying her grandmother).

A knock disturbs your mad rush to fix yourself appropriately to answer the door. On the other side, a squire clears his throat. He calls out your name right as you unlock your door. The status of you being half dressed has the lad in a flustered state.

“Tell those graces of yours I’ll be there in five minutes,” You huff. Your skirt is almost fastened while the chemise still is half untucked.

“Hai,” he salutes you and saunters off.

Slamming your door shut, you do your best to tuck the rest of the chemise into place and with that done, you pull over your peasant top. The bustier, which thankfully is worn enough to your figure, ties in the front. You leave your room, not giving a damn about your hair until you round the corner slamming into a very stiff, but warm wall…

“Oi.”

Walls don’t talk, your brain thinks. Oh, oh no…

“Are ya gonna t’apologize or not?”

You take a step back, draw in a breath, and through a false smile, you bow.

“Whatever do you mean? I honestly thought you were a wall, your grace,” You raise your head as you straighten up. “Forgive me, I was in a bit of a rush sir.”

Honeyed eyes which flared with delight whenever you were around seemed to have softened. You don’t have many friends within the nobles, but being close in age with dukes and certain duchesses did help in situations like this. Atsumu’s befriending of you when you had first arrived was nothing short of a prank. A wager between him and his brother, Osamu, to win the favor of any person outside their ranks would win. How did Atsumu win? He had asked you specifically to serve him tea in the parlor as his brother was about to proclaim his victory—in five minutes you came with four sets of cups and saucers as the aromatic tea fills the room. The first two were poured by your hands and as you stood by, each of the boys bring out a paper. The scribbles and scratches, from what you can tell, had names on them.

“And you, yn,” atsumu’s voice was curious. “What do we call our acquaintanceship?”

Eyes of graying clouds study your figure. Light mustard yellow with burgundy trim was the fashion fabric for the season and somehow it complements you. Your sunkissed skin from working the flower fields in their mother’s garden was proof enough which class you’re in, but though the sun favored you, when your eyes meet and bounce between those of the brothers, you ponder a bit more prior to answering.

“No one has asked me that before your grace,” you bring a thoughtful curled finger to your chin. “But I suppose ‘master and apprentice’ might be more appropriate to describe what I am to either of you.”

Osamu’s first instinct is to laugh hysterically at his brother’s tie breaker, who not to discredit Atsumu’s being kinder to you lately, because with that answer the game continues. You are dismissed and as you leave, you hear Atsumu whine saying he had thought for sure you were going to agree and say perhaps you’d be friends from them on. Your ears also pick up Osamu’s insults at his brother by praising your intellect when giving your answer. For whatever reason, hearing that praise made your steps a little lighter that day.

Presently, you stand face to face with Atsumu who in turn after your apology, asks you where you’re off to in such a hurry.

“Kitchen,” You reply. “Madame is showing us the desserts she’d like to serve this afternoon for tea.”

Feeling your excitement as you are told to scurry off., Atsumu shakes his head chuckling. To his left, his friend who is visiting for the day, Suna, raised an eye brow.

“Yn certainly had grown into her figure,” Suna makes a figure in the air with his hands. “Does your brother still latch on to her whenever he sees her?”

Atsumu turns to his fox-eyed friend. “It’s been two years since that foolish bet. Yet ah am not opposed to having yn around. She is a good friend to him and me, so why should we add more to the rumors they are lovers?”

“Because it’s funny?”

“‘m going to pretend ya didn’t say that, eh Suna? Especially if they’re the blindest dorks on earth.”

Elsewhere, as you make it into the kitchen, you grab the last apron. The madame of the house and head pastry chef didn’t necessarily called you out for your tardiness, so the mini-baking lesson had begun. Honestly baking was fun, yet since you had a not so secret secret, you found you did best when following dictated orders versus reading a recipe.

To be fair, you didn’t know what a library or a book was until you started working in the estate. A lot of the noble women often would bully you just because you pronounced words awkwardly and when word finally reached one of the twins, Osamu was rumored to have stood up for you; Atsumu on the other hand, had defended you as well mentioning you might not have had any formal education, but “yn-san manages ‘er time wisely and doesn’t run ‘er mouth like ya girls do.” And though it might have caused the ladies to be quiet, at least one of them has declined invitations back. That did not sit well at all for the mother who birthed outspoken boys to begin with. Although, after she had called you into her study, you notice Osamu was within earshot of the scolding you received for not defending yourself better.

“Your boys did it for me, majesty,” you stood a bit straighter. “And for that, I have the utmost respect for them.”

Your hands stayed at your side, knuckles white as they gripped the sides of your skirt. You’re first audience in a long time with her excellency had your heart beating outside your chest. Looking to where Osamu stood, you knew he couldn’t say anything at the moment while his mother was still furious.

“You may have respect for them, but what of their reputation?”

This again? Your thoughts circle the word reputation. Isn’t it enough that whoever wanted to rip your clothes was told not to by Atsumu? Or when you claimed you fell on the stairs, Osamu offered you a hand to stand up as the girls who passed by called you clumsy even with the evidence so blatantly seen on their smug faces after asking Osamu to drop you “because why should we be nice to staff members?” At this, Osamu whispers to you to pay them no mind; you straighten yourself out, disappearing without so much as a thanks—it comes a week later in the form of a tea service your mentors had advised you perform for the twins who made it bearable to be around such snobby women.

Their mother sees a thorn in front of her; the dress you wear is a hand-me-down from her girlhood days. The fabric then was heavy and uncomfortable in the summer months, yet alas the tailor who was to throw it out decided to gift it to you. How quaint, her excellency thinks. The sleeves were hemmed and the excess trim were cut away, leaving nothing but a simple gown in need of either a bustier or pea coat in this autumn weather.

“Madame, if reputation is what all noble people care or gossip about, then what makes them any different than those below their status?”

You bow as gracefully as you could manage, then exit the study. Your meals were withheld for a week and replaced with table scraps for verifying a truth so long forgotten. Thankfully when Osamu speaks to his brother about what their mother did, you started receiving messages during their tea breaks when you served them via the teas they drank: green tea meant extra entree, Darjeeling was a spare dessert, citrus was snacks, etc. from then on, when you dined with them, you became friends. The wager didn’t matter anymore.

Back in the present, as the tarts bake in the oven, you lean against the window facing the eastern sea. Knights and swordsmen are conducting their training and you spot a certain twin joining the fray. Others don’t pretend to notice the difference in chemistry your trio brings, yet knowing who recently requests you more over the other has people in the estate gossiping like mad. Those that tend to the Madame are quite bitter none of their trainees had won favor as fast as you did. Perhaps it’s the way the boys look to you for praise, yet you humbly say what needs to be said with an air of honesty which, to be frank, can be too acidic for some.

“Poise and grace can only get you so far,” ms arimoto said on the eve of your seventeen birthday. “So be honest and accept critique with kindness and you’ll do just fine, yn.”

You nod and ever since then, your brain reminds you of that advice. Surely, that Indian summer as the sun rises steadily higher, things were about to change…

A few days later, you’re outside tending to the garden. The night of the celebration had concluded with the twins readily sneaking out to party with the knights and others in your class as well to enjoy a night off of official duties. You’ve rarely seen your peers drunk, but when Ms Morimoto returns for her official retirement party, everyone raises a glass to the sky in her honor. Music and dancing were always encouraged and though your plate was still full, you eventually manage to make your way to the dance floor. Nights and other staff alike watch as you raise your hands up to the sky and wind your body in ways no one thought possible. It was then Ms Arimoto calls you an affectionate term of those who lived in the desert: hōseki (gem).

Maybe fraternizing with you in particular had rubbed the twins’ mother the wrong way, so their lessons were longer and more egregious than before. You were often sought after such lessons for snacks and tea breaks for this last quarter of months.

Three months you had a disruptive sleep schedule because though your priorities included tending the garden, whenever either Osamu or Atsumu refused their butlers or house keepers, those people come banging on your door. Not that they were jealous of you tending to the boys, but they were afraid they’d lose their jobs if one or all of them didn’t send you to the twins’ adjoining rooms. The worse of it was when both Atsumu and Osamu were scheduled exams at six to eight hour intervals because what was sleep then? When that hellish week was over, the boys found you passed out on the floor, the ceramic tray with the sandwiches shattered to your left as you just knocked out from exhaustion. You did give them quite a scare, so imagine your surprise when you wake up on the ottoman with your head resting against a pillow on Osamu’s thighs and your legs curled like a kitten against Atsumu, both were reading novel’s at the times silently as to not disturb you. Those who did come into the room to drop off food claimed to have seen nothing of the ordinary—just two brothers fretting over their friend’s well being.

Eventually, Atsumu was called for an abroad trip to the south for a summit while Osamu stayed behind to run the estate. Their parent was blissfully away conducting and reporting merchant routes with her council. As for you? You used this time to tend to your specialities: making sure your duties were completed at sundown everyday…even if it includes literacy lessons with Osamu.

You don’t speak a word of how he reads novels aloud to you and he teaches you how to pronounce the words from the picture books when he and his brother were four years old. He doesn’t mind the awkward way your lips, teeth, and tongue roll over difficult words like, “exuberant” or “dreary,” because he gets to squish your cheeks together to at least let your mouth remember the movements of such sounds.

You see the frustration dissipating when you said “extraordinary” back to him one morning. His hands don’t squish your cheeks then, he’s too busy trying to control the flustered look his agape mouth makes. You tilt your head to one side when you ask him to define what it means. He blinks at your question before making a blind bold choice of words.

“You,” Osamu’s voice is barely a whisper. “You’re extraordinary.”

“I am?”

You lean in to study those swirling gray orbs of his, almost teasing him with how close you actually are.Osamu replies with his lips against yours, not shying away from whatever needs tried to suppress for however long ago you first served him and his brother tea.

It’s over in an instant, and your eyes remained closed a smidge longer than his.

“Yes,” his lips press against the corner of your mouth again. “You are.”

You take the compliment to the grave but it’s only when his hands keep you in a lover’s embrace, does your heart sway. You warn him, dressed in the blues and whites he comes to adore, of the consequences if either you or him were to pursue this.

“We just have to be careful,” Osamu’s heart is not one to be deterred, yet he knows you have so much more to lose. He can’t defend you well if his mother chooses to throw you out; hell Atsumu would try to sneak you back in, but would the guards follow a kill or capture on sight plan like Kita is trained to do? Osamu sees the apprehension as your breathing pattern changes slightly. Chewing on your bottom lip, you bump your forehead against his. He smirks at you.

“Teach me a little more,” is all you add to this conversation before the books remain scattered and you let yourselves be tied by the fates design.

His hands raise yours to hold him securely by the shoulder and like those books filled with young lovers, you do just that. Those same lips that read to you stories borne of the imaginations of authors now presses eloquently against yours, your heart leaves the worries of the mind behind. It’s more desperate in the ways you grip each other’s clothing, he sighs angrily and curses the way women dress in this era, nearly tearing your collar apart to have his lips reach your décolleté and your palms support the back of his head as you push him impossibly closer. Your breathing is ragged as you let this continue.

“S-sir?”

Your promptly picked up and affixed to sitting on the desk, the books pushed back by the act. Osamu looms over you, a pained expression on his features.

“Don’t call me that,” his fingers brush stray strands of your hair behind your ears. “No titles when you’re with me..”

Your eyes are wide with apparent shock at first, but your hands seize the nape of his neck and you find the courage to violently kiss him back. He hears how you hesitate to say his name, but by gods is it a glorious whimper when you do the second before you smash his lips with yours.

Hands accentuate the greed your type of love fulfills—the unfastening of fancier tunics on him and the unlacing of your bustier is as far as this lesson intends to reach. Your lover and teacher of such things supports your back with his hands as he guides you backwards a bit as your legs are compliant in making enough room for his body to fit between; you skirt rustles as it bunches higher and now Osamu’s almost as horizontal with you as you are with the desk.

Together, you taste the finesse of his rank, his hands feel the callouses you earned toiling the days away (making snacks, brewing teas, assisting in the gardens, etc), so he tends to them as lovers do. Your breathing together is ragged and though you relish in his touch as his fingers dance over the scars and little scrapes here and there. He presses short chaste kisses to the tips of your fingers, catching the way the sun glimmers in your eyes.

“Is this how we start?”

Such an innocent question to a compromising state of undress, Osamu thinks. He helps you rest comfortably on his arms, as he chuckles lightly.

“Yes,” he tilts your chin up, grazing your lips with his own. He feels you smile beneath him before he kisses you tastefully there. The room is a complete disarray, however, when he laces your bustier back and you assist in fastening his charcoal colored rank cloak on his shoulder, you realize after today, you both must tread lightly. Whether you are called in the dead of night to make a pot of tea or for him to explicitly relieve you of your duties and have your second take over your chores so you could enjoy the lake house with him, no one suspects the sudden blossoming kinship you form. Even if the noble ladies who try their luck at once again forming amicable bonds with Osamu, it is soon rumored they first have to pass your judgment. Typically you would have been compensated the honor of being his assistant, yet with such a trivial formality and practice forgotten, however when Osamu is forced to participate in these meetings, one notices how the aloof twin seems to be enamored by your presence.

Come nightfall on one such day, when the last guests leave, Osamu finds you in a hall by the armory and promptly pushes you into the nearest room. His lips greet you first, your hands are pinned above your head. It’s warm here and he’s impossibly burning his love everywhere you’re exposed skin can be reached. Your hands,when released, start their perfected rehearsed dance to rid him of his clothes—the stays are loose enough that when the bustier falls, it joins the cape and tunic from earlier.

Here, when you open your eyes, you’re stunned by how strong he is; muscles formed and conditioned to raise broadswords and shields now are used to lift and carry you. There is a cot and you find yourself in mere seconds straddling the thighs of the man who taught you words and their meanings; how eloquent your voice is when you quietly say his name. He says yours when he brings your knuckles to his lips. Languid kisses expresses his need to have you, all of you, if you’ll allow it. You fall into a steady rhythm as your hands explore his tensed back, accidentally scratching his shoulder blades and his hips buck up to warn you. Raising a brow, you ask him to do it again, and this time, as you let a chortle slip, your other hand cups his lightly stubbled cheek.

“Don’t be shy now,” you murmur.

The hand that hand snuck to rest against his shoulders now travels and wraps around where he holds the small of your back. Your skirt is bunched just above mid thigh here. Testing the waters, you lay his palm there. It’s as close to where you might need him later, but for now hearing him inhale and exhale a nervous laugh gets you to lazily smile at him.

“It’s going to be ok,” you lean down to ghost your own lips over his. “I trust you.”

Though Osamu believes every word you said, his body is pulsating in ways he didn’t think it could; rarely when he was off age did a person vex him so. His hand as your lips keep distracting seeks refuge s as it disappears almost completely under what little fabric is left. You whimper at the sensation, but when this a soft mewl falls from your mouth when you rest your head against his chest, he’s curious just how many more times he could hear you like this. Hands aside, Osamu asks with a tug of your under shirt, right before the lace of the chemise is exposed to him. You in your flustered state, create enough space for him to lift the thickest fabric (it was prospected to be cooler at night) he had felt on a commoner, up and over your head. You cross your arms over your chest the chemise doesn’t do much to stop the diver traveling up your spine, so what does your lover do? He takes his last layer of upper clothing off and drapes it over your shoulder. Osamu’s a little broader than Atsumu, and you realize this first hand. You uncross your arms, he gently smiles down when you carefully trace over the healed wounds of hood childhood. You’re asked if you’re afraid knowing how violent he could be, some of the scars looked severe; “why would I be when I’m with you?”

“Yer gonna be the death of me,” he deftly says. Osamu’s answer came attached with a confession sayings numerical value of how long he had wanted to have you like this. Holding you close and even closer still if you’d allow it. You recall having been educated as best you could by the doctors who frequent the estate on matters in the bedroom when you turned of age. Surely satisfying a prospective husband was loosely implied, but seeing as this may be the second time someone had you (the first happened when you found out the baker’s son was to marry the second daughter of a banker; he wanted to learn and unfortunately at the time, you were the only person his age. You don’t mind you gave into him so easily, because he did treat you with care and with his earnings, he even went to apothecary who was able to provide birth control potions for both of you.)

That was then, this time with Osamu, you’re changing the notion in your head of what constitutes as an act of love. You were foolish and naive to think whatever had transpired between the baker and you was an educative transaction. Yet in the way Osamu’s eyes are clouded with the thoughts of you above him, you see and feel his anguish push against your body where you sit. So, you gently push him on his back and undo the top of his trousers. His hands are at his side, but his eyes are enamored with lust blown pupils. Are you seriously going to undress him here? Not even in his own bed, but here? Your hands are deft and lightly tracing over the area he needs the most attention, yet as the crickets outside become louder, Osamu is frozen in place with the way you test an angle that has his head spinning. Your fingers loop around the button and with the drag of the zipper, the man’s breathing stutters. He groans at such a simple act, but for what it’s worth, you lean down you and against his Cupid’s bow breathe a command for him to sit still.

“I’ll go slow, so treat me kindly ‘samu,” were probably the last coherent words you say before the heat is too much. Waking up next to each other half a day later, with bruises from the day before starting to blossom across your bodies, you both jolt awake. He’s tossing you your clothes and vice versa; how could either of you forget your duties that morning? Truthfully, you’re just glad you received a light warning and even medium tempered punishment. Osamu, on the other hand, had to at the very least, invite and host more women much to his dismay. Why would he want to if he knew he wanted you, especially after how you made him fall even harder on that stiff cot in the armory. Although, the butler and his fellow man in arms, Gin, days later asked him why his master seems so fond of you. Osamu shrugs making a mention of how you’re preferred company over his brother sometimes. Gin laughs, uttering an encouraging word or two about how you’re rumored among the working servants to be object of Osamu’s current desire. (“Who knew it was the other way around,” was all he said after being dismissed. Sworn to secrecy that one was, Gin wouldn’t dream to be disloyal to either twin, so he thought should he see you, he’d tell you in case you didn’t already know).

Two months into this endeavor and although there have been many rumors as to who brought out a gentle side of the once aloof fox, the answer is never traced back to you. Surely if asked, you amicably say you’re friends, but that is all there is to it. There elderly keepers of the estate turn a blind eye to the ever rising collar of your formal clothing, alas they keep their mouths shut as best they can when their Madame summons them to act as spies to see if they heard the name of her son’s lover. You were questioned once, yet how you lied through your teeth was worthy of the highest acting award, hell even when Osamu was called, he tells his mother he’s been fond of the daughters who frequently fawn over Atsumu. The more these mixers and parties with the other noble families occur, the more cloud cover you and Osamu’s relationship will have.

No one catches on until Atsumu returns surprisingly early. He’s making his rounds searching for Osamu to gossip about who he met, what he did, etc over the time he was away only to open the doors of the library to see your back and his brother looming over you. Poetry, words even Atsumu wouldn’t dare dream of saying aloud just to any person lest he loved them dearly, were spilling forth from his brother’s lips and on to yours. Atsumu closes the door as quietly as he can, his mind goes still at the thought. Then, the golden boy truly smirks as he walks down the hall. He says nothing, at the very least, not until he summons his brother to his chambers in the middle of the day. Tea wasn’t necessarily served, but the truth of how he knows his twin lies in the smug look he gives. Osamu’s dress shirt is slightly askew no thanks in part to you, yet when he sits across his brother, the grayed toned boy braces himself.

“Is yer heart true?” Atsumu’s question is the only one needed to ask. “‘Samu, I’m only asking this once.”

Osamu gives pause to read his brothers face—the seriousness in time could have meant he caught him with you this morning, right? Instead of an answer, Atsumu reads the way his younger by minutes sibling’s head hanging down in utter defeat, a plea on the brink of slipping out. It’s enough for Atsumu to clear the air.

“The old hag wouldn’t find out, yer secret is safe,” he says, then leaned back in his chair. “Who else knows?”

“…no one,” osamu replied, sheepish canine teeth puncture through his bottom lip.

Atsumu breathes a sigh of relief before asking how long his brother had begun to feel this way toward you. Usually they’d fight over things like toys and lately as they had begun to carve their own path, women seemed to be a touchy subject because when it came to you, it’s like a switch flipped. They were vying for your attention in the most obtuse of ways: Atsumu came to you with a tear in his formal cape, then Osamu wanted your opinion on festival flower arrangements, after that Atsumu asked if he could have you accompany him into town (just to see which gifts he’d bestow upon you when your birthday came up), Osamu though asked if you could meet him in the library to study maps for a while…

“Don’t let yn go,” Atsumu warns his brother as Osamu was about to leave his room. “I think we both know where I’d stand if you do.”

The door closes with a decadent thud and by the time Osamu returns to where he had last seen you, you were already gone. The books from earlier remained scattered in a sort of perplexing disarray. On the one hand, as he begins to tidy the room a bit, he realizes something is amiss the second the change of shift house keepers come in asking him if he’s seen you.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen yn? She was with you an hour or so ago, was she not?” your friend who covers your nightly route asks. Their voice elevates in a calm manner as if to hint you’ve definitely been gone a little longer than the hour mentioned. Osamu hands the novels over, thanking your friend with a nod, as he exits into the hallway.

Kita was enjoying a cup of tea in the parlor closest to the resting quarters when both Atsumu and Osamu barge in. The captain stares blankly at them as the boys each describe you in great and not so great detail. As he sips his tea, his face is unchanged as he says you were summoned elsewhere at the request of their mother. Atsumu stares at his brother and though his callused hands punches Osamu’s chest, his eyes are glazed in an angry, “you said you were careful,” stare.

Osamu exhales sharply the moment Atsumu turns in his heels.

“My men followed their orders, we cannot disobey direct ones,” Kita informs the younger sibling. The tea cup clinks against the table. “I advise you inform your mother, your grace, before yn-san is lost to you both.”

Osamu catches his breath only to run to locate the yells echoing through the doors of his parents’ bedroom. Atsumu is having a tantrum over losing you as quickly as a child who misplaced their favorite golden toy. Bracing himself as he walks in, Atsumu huffs as his brother stands shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Mother,” Osamu tries kindness this time. “Where did you send her?”

“Away from you two, obviously,” their mother turns over the papers she has in her hand. It was a trade offer too good to pass up. Perhaps this was what her trip was for: arranging a match. Or several potential ones for her unruly boys. “It’s about time you two relearn your place… especially you, Osamu.”

“Yer wrong for this, you know that?” Atsumu seethes. “Who’s to say Osamu wasn’t the only one who loved them? Hmm?”

Their mother slams her fist on the end table.

“The bitch seduced both of you?” Their mother scoffs. “Of course she did.”

Atsumu observes his brother’s fight or flight response manifest in the way his pupils dilate. The storm blessed sibling stands taller as he bows to cushion the blow of turning on his heels as he begins his journey in finding you.

His mother calls out to him one final time, “You leave this place Miya Osamu no longer my son, but an orphan to these lands!” She turns to face her eldest, stopping him before he to follows his brother’s lead: “You follow him, you too are orphaned and the line ends here.”

Those who linger outside the room overhearing this family matter stand aside as Atsumu walks past them. He heads in the direction of the westernmost stables where he knew his brother would be. In the stables, the brothers share a final conversation.

“Take this,” Atsumu presses a medallion of sorts which grants the owner safe refuge. “Don’t let what the old hag says get to you; you bring yn back. Whether as mah sister in law or as yer lover, do not rest until she is found, d’ya hear me?”

Osamu’s angered hands shake as his horse whinnies brusquely. Atsumu notices the house keeper he had passed on the way to his mother’s room—the cousin of the one cleaning the library right now—they bow prior to being called forth.

“Yn is important to us too,” they sniffle. “She taught us how to mend clothes just yesterday. Please, if any one can bring her back I know it’s one of you… Time is of the essence. Last I heard, they were headed to the port of call with her.”

And by the time Osamu gallops towards the docks, he sees a flash of lightning race through the clouds and he sees the shadow of someone who was dressed like you; when you reach the starboard side of the vessel you were taken to, your ears pick up your name in the wind. You gasp when you see the outline of a familiar figure by a horse. You raise your hand above to wave and you force a smile as you watch him drift further away.

Rewind to when you part ways with Osamu that morning: you were invited to attend an estate dinner with Osamu only to find out that perhaps Atsumu might have returned early. You hear the compatriots of those who were chosen by the elder master of the house return talking with their peers about what they saw or rather what goods the other territories had to offer. Atsumu, as you excuse yourself to pass through to the next area where your chores list would take you, welcoming them all back as one does, only to be snatched in a hallway. You tried to force yourself out of the binds your captors had used, but alas when you hear the familiar voices of several guards, you stop resisting. The blindfold didn’t really help in way shape or form to identify the assailants, yet all you could decipher was who gave the order to have to boarded on the next ship wherever far their coins could take you. You knew following your heart would be difficult, yet was the price worth it? Was earning his love worth this divide?

“Absolutely,” you mutter to yourself as your homeland drifts further behind you.

So the years went by. Within that time, you had grown into your new role as the assistant owner of a bouquet florist. You had received word over the last three months a certain golden son was seeking an arrangement signifying his rise to power. Your manager was out on a delivery run when the chime at the door rings.

“Be right with ya!” you instruct another apprentice how to finish wrapping the last bouquet for a wedding order.

Wiping your hands on the apron you wear, you pop around the corner to see an old face. You recognize the stature of the man whom you used to make rose tea for. Whether you cry or not, you try to keep your emotions in check as you attempt to greet your prosperous client.

“Atsumu?...”

The man embraces you like he would an old friend, perhaps even a sibling. He releases you and cups your cheek.

“Finally found ya,” he says, his tone is one of relief. “‘Samu an’ ah have been looking for ya fer ages.”

You furrow your brows and you raise your hands to remove Atsumu’s hands away gently. He nods in understanding your eagerness to ask the question which he was unsure how to answer just yet.

“Where is he?”

Atsumu inhales a shakey breath. How can he answer that question knowing his brother has not returned any of the letters he had sent over the course of their time apart. It’s been roughly six? Maybe seven years at best since everyone had last seen each other. There were always these rumors about a knave who would wander into towns searching for a girl he had loved, but when there was no sign of such a lady, he’d drown his sorrows until he had his fill then move on.

“Nursing a broken heart,” Atsumu has a sour face. “No thanks to that woman.”

Their mother had since relinquished her title the moment Atsumu had signed over the appropriate documents for robbing her of her power; the people and even the merchant factions were all in favor of this choice. Those in authoritative service offices often updated the newer leader of where his brother might have been spotted and as you hear these stories in the mid-afternoon sun, you wring your hands together in apprehensiveness waiting for the thrilling conclusion of this tale.

“W-why would he–Atsumu, where is he? If you know, please,” your voice is chillingly calm. You don’t demand anything less and as Atsumu hands you a paper when he leaves, he pauses to turn to give you a hopeful stare.

“His only crime was loving you, so it’s your turn, yn. Bring him home. Both of you, come home when you find each other. I’ll be waiting.”

The shop closes when the bells from the temple begin their hourly night chime. You lock the door after bidding your apprentice goodnight along with your fellow manager; casually walking the streets, those who frequent the shop greet you as you make way to the local pub. Paying the price of a pint of pear cider, you empty it just as quickly as it was poured. The barkeep hums a familiar tune as you stare at your reflection at the bottom of the light froth remants.

Glancing up, your lips stretch into a thin smile.

“Your brother stopped by today,” you push the glass back toward the bar keep. “Said when I find you I ought to bring you home with me.”

Arching an eyebrow at you, the same eyes from your youth sparkles in amusement. He leans over to kiss your lips (the other patrons whoop in the background); you laugh as you raise your pint glass in the air. You admire the moonlight streaks in your lover’s hair as he shakes his head at the noise. The years have been kind and not all of what Atsumu had said was a lie; it was factual to a degree. Only reason why the letters when unanswered for so long was because his brother and you were too busy establishing yourself in the town under the guise of newlyweds seeking a more stable home. The locals here were the most constant and eager to see you both succeed, so whether or not the reach of the estate would follow only time would tell.

You wave at the nightly regulars before rounding the back of the stairs to your shared flat. Before you take your leave, you feel a strong set of hands grip your waist and pull you back into a tight hug. A voice strong and gentle like the day you met him formally in the halls of his estate tickles against your ear. You bite back a grin when his lips graze your temple. Your fingers lace over his as his words leave you with dreams of a sepia hued montage; the disgraced master runs to the docks that night and as his destiny leaves the shores, she waits in the same citadel until her former master crosses her path en route to a market; behind the closed doors of the inn do both let their hearts’ passions free.

Even now, when you wear his colors in the threads you dress yourself with and perhaps the reason why Atsumu chose to speak as if his brother is lost in a public area; the pattern of your apron from the shop was the same as the inside tone of his brother’s riding cloak. Atsumu knows his brother is alive just by that alone, your apprehensiveness earlier was out of concern Osamu would be imprisoned for being an exiled son, yet Atsumu reassures you he just wants to reinstate all the titles that was lost to him since their mother’s ego was tarnished. Atsumu sighs before he leaves saying that all he wants was his family to be happy and you didn’t refuse his invitation to come home. After all, with the slight slump in Atsumu’s shoulders you could tell he misses you both dearly, so you tell him you’ll talk to his brother. The note reinstating what title and land deed would be bestowed upon their return was laid out in full, however you were still learning how to read ledgers at the age of twenty-four, so you thought it best to leave it on the bedside table.

For now though, you lean back to glance up at the sky gray eyes you’ve often found refuge in. Your lips curve into a curious grin.

“Hmm? Wanted me to stay a little while longer?”

You feel your lover shake his head before formulating a proper answer to your question from earlier:

“Say the word wife and we’ll leave at dawn to see this brother of mine... I heard the peonies are in full bloom this time o’year.”

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora after hours #sora scribbles 2022 #nobility au #noble!osamu x maid!reader #platonic noble!atsumu x maid!reader

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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year

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the walls are thin // masterlist

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall.

~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ total wc: 75368 ᴡᴏʀᴅs status (as of apr23): complete! ~ 9 / 9 chapters posted

oh but ofc she's got a playlist (♡) "what a shame it would be if you left her now"

the general vibe: incessant fluff, 18+ eventual smut (with small nsfw desc & bits in the meantime), small bits of angst (it's an 8 chapter story there's going to be some conflict) what you're getting yourself into: atsumu is very sexually active, complicated feelings (but no miscommunication trope), a LOT of flirting, hanamaki takahiro side piece ♡ , seijoh 4 & msby besties, slow burn (ish?), seriously so much fluff, tiny bit of angst, afab reader she/her pronouns, will provide tags for each chapter!! ~~

tori loves polls. (which of my self indulgences did you vibe with the most in the epilogue?)

ch1. your annoying, stupid, inconsiderate, really fucking hot neighbor

ch2. stupid, annoying, really attractive, super funny, ravishingly charming atsumu

ch3. perfectly inconsiderate, maybe cluelessly oblivious

ch4. incredibly heart-warming, stupidly romantic

ch5. overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be

ch6. flirty, surprisingly sweet, now super close neighbor

ch7. really pretty, honest to god made for you

ch7.5. passionate, silently perfect romantic, unwavering platonic

ch8. gorgeously genuine, absolutely beaming (aka atsumu ending)

ch8.5. carefully attentive, the same person he’s always been (aka maki ending)

epilogue. proudly unpredictable and awestrukenly trusting

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

#atsumu x reader #hq x reader #hq fanfic #hq fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fics #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #toriwritesshit #just blog stuff #tori’s masterlist #twrt!#masterlist!

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dira333 · 9 days

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soulmate AU: if your soulmate colors their hair, your hair turns the same color + ATSUMU!!!!!!!!!!

THE WAY I GIGGLED AND KICKED MY FEET OMFGGGGG

for some reason i'm picturing the fic being like a through the years type of thing? where when you're kids your hair is just a normal brown but then in middle and high school it becomes a sort of ombre bleached blonde and it's just your journey with your hair and you wondering why your soulmate doesn't take better care of theirs lol. i also picture it like you see atsumu on tv a lot just because he's a really famous volleyball player and you have a little bit of suspicion but you don't think too much about it because he's really famous and there's no way you would be soulmates with this celebrity (who's known for being boyish and charming and flirty yk).

Let me run from you - Miya Atsumu x Reader

You suppose it could have been worse.

Mukai-chan's hair is a bright red today. Nakao-Kun's lovely black hair has turned an ugly grey color. And Taniguchi-chan chopped off all her curls, not realizing that it's only her hair color that will mark her soulmate.

But you hate it, the garish yellow of your hair. You hadn't mind all the stages before, the dark brown that turned lighter and lighter each month. It had been kinda fun too, not knowing when your soulmate got another chance to see their hairdresser. But now?

You twirl a strand between your fingers.

"You know, it reminds me of gold," Emi, your best friend, points out. "And I could be silver." She points at her own, greyish curls.

You sigh. "That's nice of you. But I think it looks more like piss."

"Hey, have you seen that already?" Emi turns the magazine so you can see. It's a poster of some high school Volleyball team.

"What about it?"

"Look at these two." She points at two guys who look eerily similar - well, except for their hair color. "They match. Just like we do."

"Mhm, maybe," you turn your head to squint down at it. "The grey one matches, but the yellow doesn't look as bad on him as it does on me. And who says our soulmates will be related?"

"Excuse me?" Emi scoffs. "Like anything else could be true. You're my platonic soulmate after all."

You snort. "True. Do you want to swap lunch again?"

"Thought you'd never ask. Oh, I made Onigiri last night, do you wanna try the new flavor I came up with?"

College is College. Fun and hell at the same time.

"Your hair," one of the girls from your class points out over a cup of something you don't want to taste again. You snort. "Don't remind me. I've tried every toner there is, but I think I need to start at the source."

"No," she starts again, but this time it's Emi who cuts her off, clawing into your arm.

"You'll never believe who I just spotted," she says, voice hushed, breath rushed. "The most beautiful guy to ever exist."

"Oh, so Kageyama Tobio is around?" You joke, but she shakes your arm violently, letting you know this is serious.

"No, no, you don't understand. His hair is the same color as mine. And he's in the kitchen making food, I-"

"Oh, you mean Samu." The two of you turn to the girl. She grins smugly at your now obvious interest in her knowledge.

"He's in my business class. He wants to open a restaurant. He's got a twin brother too. Your hair reminds me of his."

"No way," you wave her off, "If you're talking about the Miya twins you must be mistaken. No way my soulmate could be famous enough to be part of the Miya Twins. He's too dumb to use conditioner."

She laughs. "Oh, boy, are you in for a surprise. I think he's here today. Stay here, I'll get him."

She turns away and you use your chance to grab Emi and go, moving a fast as possible in the direction of the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" She asks, clearly confused.

"Getting out of here and making sure you still meet your soulmate."

"But what if that Miya guy is yours?"

"No way," you shake your head, "I didn't struggle my way through school to be the soulmate of some rich dude. That's too cliché."

You burst through the doors of the kitchen, now face to face with a guy you can only describe as handsome. He's got that lazy smile that Emi's always liked best, arms deep in a bowl of dough.

"Oh, hey," he smiles, "If you're hungry there's some chips and dip in the fridge. Pizza is almost ready to go in the oven too."

"This is my best friend," you tell him, pulling Emi out from behind you, "Avid food blogger, talented cook, and pretty much your soulmate. Thank me later."

She squeaks but you squeeze her shoulder and make a run for the backdoor - you're not sure why they're always located in the kitchen but you're not one to complain tonight.

You've almost made it to safety, the curb already in sight, when something hits you in the face - hard enough to let you tumble over, and land face-first in the dirt.

"Oh shit! Are you okay?!"

You groan, push yourself up only to come face to face with the guy from the kitchen - no, his twin. The hair color is different.

"Wow," he grins cheekily, "I knew I'm great but that's the first time someone literally fell at my feet."

"You wish," you snarl, "Is that your way of flirting? Hitting innocent girls?"

"You don't look that innocent," he jokes, "But no, I only do that for the cute ones."

"Har har," you sit up properly, and put a hand to your chin where it hurts the most. "What did you hit me with anyway?"

"Volleyball," he offers you his hand, "Come on, let me help you up."

"Tsumu!" Someone yells from an open window, "Hoga-chan's looking for you, she said- Oh, so you found her."

"Found who?" Tsumu, your attacker, doesn't turn around. His stare is a little unnerving. It would help a lot if he was a little less attractive.

"Your soulmate."

#my writing #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #soulmates #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu

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