Rivalry: Atsumu Pt. 6 (NSFW)

Broken Telephone Pt. 4

A full week has passed since your dignity had been ripped to shreds, and since then you could say that it had been somewhat restored.

Emphasis on somewhat.

Now that the whole group was in on your dirty little secret, they refused to let it go. Well, just Itadori and Kugisaki, the second years didn’t really care all that much (Though they joined in on the fun sometimes). They would make sly comments whenever given the chance; always to the point that left your blood boiling and eyebrows twitching. You prayed that they would eventually forget about it, but with the way it’s going currently…

You’d say it’s pretty slim.

And to make matters even worse, you could tell that Fushiguro was beginning to notice the looks, the snickers and the inside jokes. With every jab at you, his suspicions would rise, along with your stress levels and blood pressure.

You could say with ease that your mental health was starting to take a nose dive when a certain someone decided to stop by for a quick chat.

“[Name]! Do you have a minute?” You turn from your book to see your teacher walking towards you with a huge smile on his face. You immediately took caution. You had seen enough of your questionable teacher to know what his smiles meant. And it was never good.

He was either going to bother someone or bother a group of people. It seems today the main target was you.

“I don’t have your shirt. I gave it to Kugisaki.” You return to your book, hoping he will take the hint and leave you alone.

But he doesn’t take it. Then again, he never does.

“I’m not here about that. I just wanted to check up on you.” You pause, looking up slowly with heavy disbelief, sighing, and closing your book already knowing that you weren’t going to get to it any time soon. “You? Wanted to check up on me? You?” Your voice is laced heavy with suspicion. Gojo only smiles.

“What’s wrong with a teacher checking up on a student?”

“Nothing wrong with it. It’s just that it’s You.” You watch your 28-year-old teacher pout. You start to feel a headache coming on.

“Why does everyone assume the worst in me?” You raise a brow.

“Because it’s You. There’s an ulterior motive in everything you do. Now what do you want?” Your teacher tsks, leaning against the rails of the stairs you were sitting on.

“I don’t want anything. I just wanted to congratulate you.” Your face morphs into confusion, then clear disdain and disgust.

“You congratulating me is creepy.”

“Why is it creepy?”

“Because it’s-“

“Don’t you have anything more original than ‘it’s you’? When you first got here you were witty, you know.” You only hum.

“Seems your classes have dumbed me down.”

“That’s a little better. Like a solid 4.” You roll your eyes. “Why are you congratulating me?” Gojo’s smile widens, and you can feel your heart sinking to your stomach. Oh, you didn’t like where this was going.

“On winning my blessing.” His voice is filled with pride, and you feel your soul bunch up in dread. You feel a lump start to form in your throat as you formulate your words.

“For what?” You almost didn’t want to ask with the way he’s acting. Gojo’s grin stretches a mile wide now, and you’ve quite literally never been more terrified.

“You and Megumi to start dating.”

And there it was. The thing you’ve been secretly hoping to never happen. The thing that kept you up at night, could cause sweat to cover your entire body in seconds.

Gojo knew about your crush.

You immediately start choking on your own spit, the shock of his words causing your entire brain to shut down for a second. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears as you stared at your worst nightmare materialized before your eyes Gojo's grin remained plastered across his face, clearly loving your reaction. You couldn’t play this off now, you couldn’t feign ignorance or confusion. He caught you off-guard and there was no denying it.

Fucker had you right where he wanted you.

You quickly realized that you quite literally had nothing to lose, seeing that everything was about to collide and go down the shithole. So, while seething, you asked through clenched teeth. “Who told you?” You wanted to, no, needed to know. Because that person was going to be put into a world of pain.

You would spare no expense.

“Call it a teacher’s intuition,” He chuckled, leaning back in absolute glee in your misery and anguish as if he had just achieved the greatest victory in the world. You could feel your face burning, a mixture of embarrassment, frustration, and betrayal churning inside you.

"Teacher's intuition? More like teacher's nosiness," you retort, trying to regain some semblance of composure despite feeling like the ground had opened up beneath you.

Gojo's grin only widened at your response. "Now, now, don't be too hard on your friends. It's not easy keeping secrets in a place like this." He seemed to revel in the discomfort he'd caused, thoroughly enjoying the situation.

You clench your fists, fighting the urge to march off or, better yet, fling some retort that might wipe that smug look off his face. Instead, you force a tight-lipped smile, trying to think quickly about damage control.

"So, what now? Planning our marriage?” The sarcasm dripped from your words.

Gojo laughed heartily, leaning closer as if sharing a conspiratorial secret. "Oh, no, not at all. I just wanted to be the first to offer my congratulations. And perhaps give you a little push in the right direction." His wink made you shudder.

"Right. Because that's what I needed today, more unsolicited advice," you mutter, feeling the weight of this revelation pressing down on you.

"Just think about it," Gojo teased, patting your shoulder before strolling off, leaving you in a whirlwind of emotions.

You slump against the railing, replaying the scene in your mind, trying to figure out who might've spilled the beans. The suspicion fell on Itadori and Kugisaki, the ones who had made your secret a running joke. But then, Fushiguro's recent observations made you wonder if he had caught on and confided in Gojo.

The idea of confronting anyone felt daunting. You didn't want to expose your vulnerability any further. You longed for a moment of peace, a chance to gather your thoughts without feeling like everyone was in on your personal struggles. Taking a deep breath, you straighten up, determined not to let this revelation completely unravel you. You gather your belongings, trying to focus on your studies despite the turmoil brewing within. The day had taken an unexpected turn, and navigating through it without feeling like your whole world was spinning out of control seemed like an impossible task.

You must have a lot of notepads in your place

A fair assumption but I'm just a freak who just uses one single word doc to write all my stories. sorry to disappoint lolol But as always thank you for the send!! <33

Top left ifykyk 🤤

can we talk about them 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

All shits and giggles till you start to feel the shits

Husbandry: Kuroo (NSFW)

Kuroo’s grandparents’ house was packed. The warm hum of conversation filled every corner, blending with the occasional burst of laughter and the distant sound of kids squealing as they ran through the hallways. His entire family had gathered for his grandfather’s birthday, a rare full-family event that happened maybe once a year.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity, aunts swapping recipes and gossip over steaming dishes while his uncles gathered around the dining table, engaged in heated debates over sports. Kuroo’s grandmother had you both cornered earlier, asking—no, demanding—when you two planned on giving her great-grandchildren, and before you could even attempt an answer, Kuroo had expertly steered the conversation to something else, saving you from the relentless interrogation.

You had smiled, nodded, played your role as the perfect daughter-in-law, but after hours of dodging prying questions and smiling at distant relatives whose names you barely remembered, you were in desperate need of a break. The stuffy warmth of the crowded living room and the persistent hum of voices pressing in from all sides made escape your only option.

So, you slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a quiet sigh, pressing your hands against the sink. A deep breath, a few moments to yourself—that was all you needed. A little peace, a little space, a moment where you weren’t being eyed like a future baby-making machine.

Then, a few minutes later, the door clicked open again.

You barely had time to turn before Kuroo slipped in, shutting it behind him.

Your eyes widened. "What are you—"

"Let’s fuck."

You blinked. "Wow. How romantic. You really know how to set the mood, Tetsurō. Maybe light a candle next time? Play some soft jazz?"

His smirk was slow, lazy, dangerous. "Oh, I’d play something, alright. But I don’t think you’d be able to focus on the music."

You scoffed, folding your arms. "Tetsurō, we’re at your grandparent’s house. At a family event. With people literally roaming the halls. But sure, let’s add public indecency to our marriage résumé. That'll really impress your grandma."

He leaned in, pressing his hands against the sink behind you, caging you in. “And?”

Your heart pounded. “And it’s a terrible idea.”

Kuroo tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “You remember that bet we made a few weeks ago?”

Your stomach dropped.

Of course, you remembered. Some stupid, petty argument over who could name more world capitals or something equally dumb. You lost.

And Kuroo? He said he’d save his favor for the right moment.

This was apparently it.

“Tetsurō.” You crossed your arms, trying to look firm despite the way your pulse hammered in your throat. “Absolutely not.”

He grinned. “You agreed to the deal.”

“I didn’t think you’d cash it in like this!”

He hummed, tilting his head. “Well, it’s the perfect time. No one even notices we’re gone.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the second his hands slid down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your hips, his body heat radiating against yours—

Your resolve crumbled.

“You wouldn’t.”

Kuroo leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Oh, I would.”

And with the way he was pressing into you, his hands gripping you like he’d already won— you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop him.

His fingers trailed lower, teasing, playful, pressing into the fabric of your dress just enough to make you gasp. “You know, I was gonna save this for something special, but…” he exhaled against your neck, his voice dark, teasing. “I think you’d rather pay up right now, wouldn’t you?”

Your breath hitched, hands coming up to push against his chest—half-heartedly. “Your Mother is outside.”

His smirk deepened. “And? No one’s paying attention.”

“Tetsurō—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up. His lips hovered over yours, barely brushing, mocking. “You’re acting like you don’t want this.”

Your skin burned, and you cursed how easily he could unravel you. The worst part? He knew it. He knew you’d fold for him, knew exactly how to make your body betray you.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” he murmured, lips pressing just beneath your ear, his breath hot and slow.

You swallowed hard. “Tetsu—”

His hands slid further down, gripping your hips, pulling you against him. “Say it, baby. Say you don’t want me to touch you.”

You couldn’t.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, your resolve slipping further with every second.

Kuroo chuckled, the sound low and full of satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin of your thighs. “You’re already getting warm, baby,” he whispered. “You sure you wanna keep resisting me?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to fight the way your body shuddered under his touch.

You parted your lips, ready to say something—anything—but the moment his fingers pressed just a little higher, your breath hitched, and you knew you were done for.

Kuroo’s smirk widened. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

And then, he kissed you.

Deep, slow, devouring.

Your back hit the bathroom counter, your arms winding around his neck as he took his time, teasing you, making you fall apart without even trying.

“We have to be quiet,” he whispered against your lips.

And with the way he was dragging you under, drowning you in heat, in want, in him— you knew that was going to be impossible.

But instead of answering, you simply nodded, your breath uneven, your body already melting against him. His eyes darkened at your silent surrender, and before you could process it, you were kissing him again—deeper, more desperate, all hesitation gone.

His hands moved instantly, slipping further beneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing, waiting. "That's my girl," he murmured against your lips, his grip tightening as he pressed you harder against the counter. "Now, let's see how well you can keep quiet."

His fingers slid between your thighs, parting them just enough before slipping under your underwear, skimming over your warmth with a featherlight touch. You sucked in a sharp breath, your hands gripping the sink behind you as he chuckled low against your lips. "Already so warm for me, baby."

You bit down on your lip as his fingers pressed in, slow but firm, stretching you just enough to make your legs shake. He worked you open with practiced ease, his other hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still as your body responded to every precise curl of his fingers.

A whimper nearly escaped your lips, but you slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening as you remembered where you were.

Kuroo smirked, dark and wicked, his fingers moving faster, his thumb circling that sensitive spot that had your stomach tightening. "That’s it," he whispered, nipping at your jaw. "Keep quiet for me. You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?"

You shook your head, muffled sounds slipping between your fingers as your thighs trembled around his hand. He was relentless, teasing, playing, knowing exactly how to push you to the edge without letting you go over.

Then, just as your breath hitched, just as your body started to tighten around his fingers, he withdrew.

You let out a desperate, choked sound, but before you could protest, you felt the unmistakable press of him against you. Hot. Hard. Teasing.

He groaned as he rubbed himself against your entrance, just barely pushing the tip inside before pulling away.

"Shit—you're shaking, baby," he whispered, his voice rough, strained with control. "You want it that bad, huh?"

Before you could answer, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the sink. The cool porcelain against your skin sent a shiver up your spine, but it was nothing compared to the way he slotted himself between your legs, teasing you further as he lined himself up.

"Hold on to me," he muttered, voice thick with hunger.

Your arms wrapped around his neck just as he pushed inside, slow but deliberate, stretching you inch by inch. A strangled moan built in your throat, but you barely bit it back, eyes fluttering shut as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he started to move, deep and steady at first, but quickly growing more desperate. His breath was hot against your neck, each groan rumbling through his chest as he thrust into you, the wet sound of skin against skin mixing with your ragged breathing.

Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in deeper, chasing the edge that was already creeping up on you. His hand snuck between your bodies, fingers finding that sensitive spot, circling, pressing, sending white-hot pleasure straight to your core.

"T-Tetsu—" you gasped, one hand flying to your mouth as your body trembled around him.

"That’s it," he groaned, fucking into you harder, faster. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it."

You were right there, so close, when—

Knock. Knock.

Your eyes shot open, panic freezing you in place.

"Tetsurō?" came the unmistakable voice of his older sister from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"

Kuroo barely faltered, grinning like the devil as he stilled inside you, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, be out in a sec," he called back easily, voice steady despite the fact that he was currently buried inside you.

His sister huffed. "Hurry up, it's time for cake. Also, where’s your wife?"

Your breath caught, but Kuroo? Unbothered.

"Dunno," he lied smoothly, thrusting into you just once, slow and teasing. "Maybe she got lost."

You bit your lip, glaring at him, nails digging into his shoulders.

His sister sighed. "Whatever. Just get your ass out here."

The second her footsteps faded down the hall, you swatted his arm, chest heaving.

"You are unbelievable."

Kuroo grinned, pulling back only to slam into you again, harder this time, forcing a muffled cry from your lips. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as your entire body clenched around him.

"That’s right," he whispered against your ear, his pace unrelenting, each thrust sharp and punishing. "You're shaking so much—gonna act like you don’t love this? Like you don’t get off on almost getting caught?"

You tried to glare at him, but with the way his cock was hitting that perfect spot inside you, all you could do was shudder, mouth parting in helpless gasps.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought," he taunted, watching the way your body twitched under him, the way you clung to him like you needed him to keep you from falling apart.

His fingers slid back between your legs, finding your swollen, desperate clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. The sudden sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, and you bit down hard on your own hand to keep from crying out.

"That close already?" he murmured, feeling the way your walls fluttered around him, the way your legs trembled around his waist. "Bet you love this, don’t you? Letting me fuck you like this when anyone could walk in."

You tried to protest, but all that came out was a broken moan, breathless and wrecked.

Kuroo chuckled, breath hot against your cheek. "No snarky comeback? No sarcasm? Baby, you’re too far gone to even argue, huh?"

His words only pushed you further, the tension inside you winding impossibly tight. His thrusts grew sharper, his fingers working you relentlessly until you finally shattered, your entire body convulsing as pleasure crashed over you.

Your orgasm triggered his, his rhythm stuttering as he groaned low against your skin, spilling deep inside you.

For a long moment, the only sound in the bathroom was your combined heavy breathing, the weight of what just happened settling between you.

Then, Kuroo smirked, pressing one last slow kiss to your jaw. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

You barely had the strength to lift your head, your breath still coming in heavy, uneven pants. Swallowing hard, you managed to rasp, "Never again."

Kuroo only chuckled, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back. "Come on, there's cake."

You groaned, still trying to reassemble your thoughts, your body tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure. With shaky hands, you reached down, pulling up your panties—now soaked with his release—and quickly adjusted your dress, trying to look at least somewhat composed before stepping back out into the party.

Kuroo, the smug bastard, was already fixing his shirt, completely unbothered, his smirk not fading for even a second as he reached for the door handle. "Think Grandma will notice how wrecked you look?"

You swatted at him, glaring. "Shut up, Tetsurō."

But as you stepped out, legs still wobbly, Kuroo just shot you a knowing grin. "Too late. You already look guilty."

Pregnancy: Iwaizumi

The second the double doors of the weight room open, it’s like you’ve stepped into a different universe—a world of metal clanks, low grunts, chalk-dusted air, and the constant thud of iron plates hitting the floor. And now, slicing clean through that rhythmic storm of testosterone and hyper-focus, is you: very pregnant, slightly annoyed, and holding the wallet your husband managed to leave behind on the kitchen counter this morning. You didn’t think twice about walking the ten minutes over from your place. It’s not like you hiked a mountain—you waddled across pavement in sneakers. But by the way the entire Olympic volleyball team turns toward you in unison, you might as well be carrying a live grenade instead of a baby.

“WOAHHH—LOOK OUT! Civilian on the floor!” Bokuto’s voice booms across the room, sweaty hair sticking up, arms mid-air like you’d broken the rules of gravity just by showing up.

Atsumu, flat on a bench press with Kageyama spotting him, twists his head far too dramatically toward you and lets out a long, low whistle. “Ain’t no civilian, Bo. That’s Iwaizumi’s wife. And she’s lookin’ like she’s about to drop that baby right here in front of the dumbbells.”

You don’t even get the chance to sigh before you spot him—Hajime, towel around his neck, clipboard tucked under one arm, halfway through barking cues at someone doing squats. His head snaps toward you the second he hears Bokuto’s yell, and his entire body goes rigid. The clipboard hits the bench with a clatter. The towel is forgotten. His mouth moves, but there’s no time for words—he’s already weaving through machines and teammates, practically charging toward you like the floor itself might crumble under your feet.

“You walked here? Alone?” he demands as soon as he’s within a few feet, eyes scanning you from head to toe like he’s checking for bruises.

“I’m not made of paper, Hajime. I walked from the apartment. Not across a battlefield.” You hold the wallet up between two fingers, giving him a pointed look. “You left this on the counter, by the way.”

He takes it, but barely spares it a glance. His attention is completely on you—his wife, his very-pregnant-wife, standing in the middle of the Olympic team’s weight room surrounded by free weights, kettlebells, unstable mats, and volleyball players who think balance training on BOSU balls is a personality trait.

“This place isn’t safe for you,” he mutters under his breath, eyes narrowing at a barbell someone just let crash onto the floor nearby. “You shouldn’t be around this equipment. There’s too many ways you could trip, or get knocked, or—hell—slip on a chalk patch.”

You raise your eyebrows and gesture around you. “I am standing still, Hajime. On flat ground. Wearing shoes. Holding a wallet. This is not a life-threatening activity.”

His lips flatten into a tight line. “You’re thirty-eight weeks. You should be sitting, preferably somewhere padded, with a bottle of water and a snack within reach.”

You blink. “Are you reading off a checklist right now?”

He doesn’t answer.

At that moment, Komori jogs up with his usual bounce, sweat still gleaming on his forehead and a towel slung haphazardly over his shoulder. “Wait—this is your wife? The one we keep hearing about?”

“He doesn’t talk about her,” Kiryu calls from the dumbbell rack, not even bothering to look up. “He says stuff like ‘my wife made soup’ and ‘my wife needs pickles.’ That’s it. That’s all we get.”

You offer a small, amused smile and rest both hands on your stomach. “Hi. Yes. I’m Soup-and-Pickles. Thirty-eight weeks along. Full of baby. And apparently one bad step away from being put in a medically induced nap.”

There’s a chorus of laughter, though it’s mixed with soft whistles of awe as more of the team gravitates toward you. Aran strolls over with a light smile, while Hinata’s practically vibrating behind him.

“You really came all the way here?” Aran asks.

“It’s ten minutes from home,” you reply, shooting a glance up at your husband who still looks like he’s trying to map the safest escape route out of the gym for you. “I’m pregnant, not cursed.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Iwaizumi mutters. “You’re standing next to iron weights in Converse. That’s a hostile environment.”

You roll your eyes, adjusting the strap on your bag. “They’re high-tops. Extra support.”

Before he can scold you further, Hinata suddenly leans forward with stars in his eyes. “Is the baby kicking?”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, hand moving instinctively to the right side of your belly. “She’s training for nationals, I think. My ribs are her new personal practice net.”

“Can I feel?” Komori blurts out, his expression open and hopeful.

You’re about to say yes, but Hajime moves before you can answer, shifting his stance ever so slightly to put his body between you and Komori with the quiet intensity of a dad who’s already protective before the baby’s even born.

“She’s not a mascot,” he says flatly.

You place your palm on his chest. “Hajime. It’s fine.”

His eyes flicker to yours. He relents with a small sigh, stepping aside like it physically pains him to do so.

Komori gently places his hand on your stomach, and when the baby kicks, his face lights up like someone handed him a puppy. “Oh my god. That’s incredible.”

Kageyama peers over curiously. “Does it feel weird?”

“Like an alien living under your skin,” you say cheerfully. “And sometimes the alien cries when you don’t feed it grilled cheese at exactly 3 a.m.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Sakusa mumbles nearby, adjusting a band on his wrist.

“Iwaizumi,” Yaku calls from where he’s doing banded lunges, “you better give that kid rock-solid calves. I don’t care how. It’s your duty.”

“Oh, we’re starting this already?” you laugh. “Pressure before she’s even out of the womb?”

“Oh, we’ve been taking bets,” Suna says, finally looking up from his phone with the laziest smile. “Due date, hair color, position they’ll play.”

“Definitely not libero,” Bokuto adds, puffing his chest. “That baby’s got outside hitter energy.”

“I swear to god,” Iwaizumi mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

You press a soft kiss to his jaw and whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “You love it.”

He doesn’t answer. Just wraps one arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side, hand resting low and protective on the curve of your stomach. He kisses the top of your head. Quiet. Steady.

You nudge him lightly and lift a brow. “Still mad I walked into the weight room?”

He looks down at you, expression flat. “I am always mad when you walk into a room with flying metal plates and men with the coordination of blindfolded rhinos.”

“I brought you your wallet.”

“And almost gave me a stroke in the process.”

You grin, dig into his pocket, and pull out one of his protein bars. “And I’m stealing your snack.”

“…Unbelievable.”

Rivalry: Atsumu Pt. 5

The sharp clang of the school bell signaled the end of class, jolting you out of your thoughts. You blinked, realizing you had barely absorbed a single word of the lecture. Your fingers mindlessly traced the spine of your textbook as students shuffled around you, chairs scraping against the floor, the din of conversation rising as everyone spilled into the hallway for lunch.

Your body moved on autopilot, gathering your belongings and slipping into the throng of students, but your mind was somewhere else entirely. The past few days had been a blur, a tangled mess of secrets, frustration, and moments you couldn’t quite categorize. Your lips tingled at the memory of his mouth on them, your skin still seemed to burn where he had touched you, and no matter how much you tried to shake it, you felt restless.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed when you stepped into the cafeteria—

Until a loud, unmistakable voice cut through the noise like a whip.

"Where the hell have you been?!"

You barely had time to process before Hana Yoshida came barreling toward you, her long dark hair swaying dramatically behind her, eyes narrowed with accusation and concern.

You winced. Shit.

"You have been straight-up ghosting me, and I swear to god if you say it's because of some stupid schoolwork, I will lose my mind."

Her hands found her hips as she planted herself in front of you, blocking your path with the kind of intensity only Hana could manage. She was radiating energy, a force of nature wrapped in an oversized school sweater and a skirt she had definitely rolled up against dress code.

You opened your mouth to protest, but she immediately cut you off, her sharp brown eyes narrowing further. "No. Don’t even try to make an excuse, because I know you. And I know when you’re hiding something."

You shifted uncomfortably, your hands gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. "I—uh—"

"Yeah, uh-uh, my ass." Hana scoffed, grabbing your wrist and dragging you toward your usual lunch spot with zero room for argument. "Spill. Now. Before I start making up my own theories, and trust me, you won't like them."

You swallowed hard.

"I've just been busy," you tried weakly, avoiding her piercing gaze. "You know, school, club activities, the usual."

Hana’s eyes narrowed even further as she leaned in closer, scanning your face with an almost predatory level of scrutiny. And then, as if something suddenly clicked, her jaw dropped.

She gasped so loudly that a few students actually turned their heads in curiosity. Then, without missing a beat, she pointed an accusatory finger directly at your chest.

"Oh. My. God. You’ve been having sex!"

Your stomach plummeted.

Panic shot through you at lightning speed, your hand flying up to clasp over her mouth before she could blurt out another humiliating declaration for the entire cafeteria to hear.

"Shut up!" you hissed, your face heating up so fast you thought you might combust on the spot. "Would you keep your voice down?!"

Hana’s muffled laugh vibrated against your palm before she wrenched your hand away, eyes practically sparkling with glee. "Oh, I knew it! I knew something was up! And judging by how flustered you are, I’m right!"

She smirked, leaning in even closer, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "You look so mellow and relaxed lately. And honestly? You’re glowing. Whoever is dicking you down is doing a great job."

Your face erupted in flames. "Will you just shut up?!" you hissed, mortified beyond belief, your eyes darting around to make sure no one else had overheard.

Hana only grinned wider, clearly having the time of her life. "Oh, I am so not shutting up. I need details."

You stuttered, scrambling for a way out of this conversation. "T-there's nothing to say. It was just a fling," you lied through your teeth, knowing full well that wasn’t the case.

Hana's eyes narrowed like a predator locking onto its prey. "Oh, sure. Just a fling? You, Miss ‘I Don’t Do Hookups’? You expect me to believe that?"

Before she could press you further, a loud voice cut through the cafeteria noise, pulling you from Hana’s relentless interrogation.

"Hey, manager!"

You turned, internally sighing in relief, as Osamu, Atsumu, Aran, Suna, and Hitoshi made their way toward you. The group moved with familiar ease, their casual bickering bleeding into the air like background static. Even before they reached your table, you could tell they were in the middle of one of their stupid arguments.

"God, you guys can’t leave me alone, huh?" you teased, forcing yourself to sound as normal as possible while shifting slightly in your seat. You could still feel Hana's gaze boring into the side of your head, but for now, she was momentarily distracted.

Hana huffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, you guys get her before and after school. Can't I reserve her for lunch?"

"Don't worry, we only need her for a quick second," Suna added with a smirk, earning a roll of your eyes.

"We got a serious debate," Hitoshi declared, arms crossed, his expression dead serious. "Would you rather fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?"

Osamu sighed, shaking his head. "A hundred duck-sized horses, obviously. A horse-sized duck would be terrifying."

Suna scoffed. "Nah, you’re thinking too hard about it. A horse-sized duck would have hollow bones. It wouldn’t even be that strong."

You blinked, deadpan. "That’s what you’re arguing about?"

Atsumu grinned, leaning forward, his golden eyes glinting with mischief. "C’mon, we need a tie-breaker."

You rolled your eyes, already feeling the familiar urge to snark back. "Knowing you, Miya, you’d lose to both."

Atsumu’s smug expression instantly dropped, replaced with mock offense. "Excuse me? I’d destroy that oversized poultry."

"Doubt it," you shot back. "You’d probably trip over your own ego before you could throw the first punch."

Atsumu’s golden eyes gleamed with challenge, his smirk widening as if he was ready to throw another quip your way. He leaned in slightly, opening his mouth—

"Oh, sweetheart, you really gotta work on your comebacks. That one barely stung."

"Oh, up yours, you insufferable—" you began with a sweet smile, voice dripping with venom, but before you could finish, Aran cut in with a sigh. "Okay, okay, let’s get food before this turns into another screaming match."

You raised your hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm the one with self-control."

Atsumu shot you a glare, clearly not amused, his mouth opening to retort, but you only grinned wider. "That being said—a horse-sized duck."

Half the boys erupted into a small but silent victory celebration, their smug grins a stark contrast to the ones rolling their eyes in annoyance. With that, the group turned and began heading toward the lunch line, still bickering about the logistics of fighting oversized poultry.

Atsumu threw you one last smirk, his golden eyes flashing with something too smug, too knowing, before turning on his heel to follow the rest of the team.

It was quick, almost imperceptible, but there was something in that fleeting glance—a silent challenge, a lingering amusement, a spark of something neither of you wanted to name. Your stomach twisted at the way his smirk lingered even as he walked away, his broad shoulders disappearing into the lunch crowd.

You barely had time to process it before Hana's nails dug into your arm with newfound intensity.

"Oh. My. God. Miya Atsumu?!"

Your stomach dropped, the cafeteria suddenly feeling too bright, too loud, every sound around you fading into a dull hum compared to the sheer horror of what had just left Hana’s mouth.

Hana’s voice was barely a whisper, but the absolute horror and uncontainable glee in her tone made your face burn hotter than the sun, the heat creeping up your neck and settling into your ears.

"What?! You are out of your mind—" you sputtered, words tumbling out before you could even think of a solid defense. Your hands instinctively gripped the edge of the table, like you needed something to ground yourself before you keeled over in embarrassment.

But Hana just grinned, completely unfazed, watching you with a predatory kind of giddiness, like she had just unearthed the juiciest gossip of the century.

"I mean, it makes sense," she continued, tapping her chin as if she were solving a grand mystery, her eyes dancing with amusement. "He’s stupid pretty, and you both hate each other’s guts."

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, to tell her she had completely lost her mind, but then—

Hana’s expression shifted.

As if a switch flipped.

Her eyes widened, her breath caught, and then—

She gasped, loud and dramatic, clutching your arm so tightly you thought she might dislocate your shoulder.

"You’ve been having hate sex and didn’t tell me?!"

You winced, her words cutting through the already overwhelming noise of the cafeteria, but to you, they felt magnified, exposed, like she had just put you on trial in the middle of lunch hour.

A groan ripped from your throat, your hand dragging down your face as if you could physically wipe this moment from existence.

"Goddamn it, can you stop being so perceptive?" you gritted out, your voice half a plea, half a curse, the mortification settling deep in your bones.

Hana, however, looked delighted, her grin only stretching wider, eating up your suffering like it was the most entertaining thing she’d ever witnessed.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat, your head dropping onto the desk with a resigned sigh.

"What do you want to know?" you mumbled, knowing full well you had just opened the floodgates to hell.

--

You told her everything—from the late-night encounters to the insults exchanged between breathless moans, the ridiculous tension that neither of you acknowledged in daylight, the way he was just so frustrating even when he wasn’t talking. Every stupid detail, every infuriating moment, all of it. The way his smirk made your skin prickle with annoyance, how his hands always seemed to leave behind an unbearable heat, the way he had this infuriating ability to push every single one of your buttons. And yet, somehow, you kept going back. Again and again.

By the time you finished, Hana was just staring at you, blinking slowly, like she needed a moment to actually process the sheer absurdity of the situation you had just described. Then, she leaned back, exhaled slowly, and with the most deadpan expression, simply said:

"Wow. I'm so jealous."

A snort escaped you before you could stop it, your body tensing and relaxing all at once. "Only you would be jealous of this kind of situation."

Hana shrugged, her lips pulling into a lazy, knowing grin. "I mean, what’s not to like? The sex is good, he’s not bad to look at—"

"I hate his guts," you cut in, scowling, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table. There was no way in hell you were letting her finish that sentence.

Hana just stopped, her eyes scanning your face with undisguised skepticism, her head tilting slightly like you had just said the dumbest thing imaginable.

"Right." She dragged the word out, voice drenched in disbelief, as if she was humoring a child who just declared they didn’t like sugar.

Your teeth clenched, frustration flaring hot in your chest. "I’m serious, Hana. I can’t stand him."

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk only growing, clearly unimpressed. "But you can stand him inside you."

Your mouth fell open in horror, your entire body locking up before you slapped her shoulder—hard enough to make her burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh my god, shut up!" you hissed, your face burning.

Hana just grinned, completely unrepentant, rubbing her arm with mock injury. "I’m just saying. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a thing for him."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Absolutely not. I could never see myself with him. It’s just physical. That’s it."

"Mmhmm," Hana hummed, tapping her chin dramatically, like she was filing away her own private analysis of your situation. Then, after a few seconds, she tilted her head, as if casually remembering something.

"Then you shouldn’t care that Ayumi Tanaka is planning on asking him out."

Your entire body tensed before your head snapped toward her so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

"What?" you blurted out, voice sharper than you intended.

Hana blinked, her lips quirking as if she knew exactly what she was doing. "Oh, yeah. She was talking about it in the locker room the other day. Said she’s been into him for a while and figured she’d shoot her shot."

Your jaw locked, a strange heat curling in your chest. "And… he said what?"

Hana shrugged. "Dunno. She hasn’t asked him yet. But she was pretty confident."

You hated the way your stomach twisted at that. Absolutely despised it. Because it shouldn’t matter. It really, really shouldn’t. This thing with Atsumu? It wasn’t real—just something to get out of both your systems. That’s it. That was the agreement. And yet, the thought of him with someone else, letting someone else touch him, whisper things into his ear, run their hands over his skin—

No. Absolutely not.

Wait. Why do I care?

Hana leaned forward, watching your expression with obvious amusement. "Oh, wow. You hate him so much, yet here you are, looking like you just swallowed a lemon."

You tore your gaze away, forcing yourself to breathe. "I don’t care."

Hana smirked. "Right. Totally buying that."

Before you could snap back, the sharp ring of the school bell split the air, signaling the end of lunch. You shot up from your seat so fast it nearly knocked your tray over.

"Oh wow, the bell! Gotta go!" you rushed out, grabbing your bag and making a beeline for the exit like your life depended on it.

Hana, still seated, only crossed her arms, watching you flee with an exasperated shake of her head. "This isn’t over!" she called after you, her voice carrying over the cafeteria noise.

You barely heard her as you pushed through the hallway, her words still rattling in your head. Your stomach twisted as you replayed the conversation, the image of Atsumu with someone else digging its claws into your brain like an itch you couldn't scratch. The idea of another girl sliding her hands over his skin, pulling those same groans from his throat, whispering in his ear—it sent a fresh, unwanted wave of irritation crawling through your veins.

You trudged down the hallway, weaving through the clusters of students lingering outside their classrooms, your mind still clouded with the lingering conversation you had barely escaped from. Hana’s words played on a loop in your head, irritating and persistent, no matter how much you tried to shake them off.

It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

Jealously: Tsukishima

Tsukishima had never been the jealous type.

Or so he liked to believe.

But as he stood a few feet away from you at the museum’s fundraising gala, swirling the last bit of whiskey in his glass, he couldn’t help the slow simmer of irritation building in his chest.

Some guy—some obnoxiously confident guy—was standing way too close to you.

Tsukishima watched as the man leaned in just slightly, flashing a charming grin, his hand gesturing a little too animatedly for whatever mindless conversation he was trying to impress you with. You were polite, nodding at whatever he was saying, but Tsukishima caught the way your fingers curled slightly against the fabric of your dress—the telltale sign that you were uncomfortable.

His jaw clenched.

Tsukishima was a logical man. He knew you weren’t interested, knew you were his in every way that mattered—but that didn’t stop the irrational flicker of annoyance coursing through him.

So he drained the rest of his drink, set the glass down on the nearest table, and made his way over.

“Excuse me,” his voice came out smooth, a fraction lower than usual as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. His hand rested just above your hip, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress in a silent claim. Mine.

You blinked up at him, momentarily surprised, before a small smile tugged at your lips.

The man, however, didn’t seem to take the hint. “Oh, I was just having a great conversation with—”

“She’s not interested.”

There was no venom in Tsukishima’s tone—just a matter-of-fact finality that left no room for argument.

The man blinked, looking between the two of you before finally stepping back with a sheepish laugh. “Ah… right. My mistake.”

He made some excuse to leave, and as soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Tsukishima with an amused look. “Jealous, Kei?”

He scoffed, adjusting his glasses. “You’re delusional.”

“Oh, sure,” you teased, poking at his chest. “That wasn’t possessiveness at all.”

Tsukishima exhaled sharply, but his arm around your waist didn’t loosen. If anything, his grip on you tightened.

“…I just didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he muttered.

Your teasing softened. Tilting your head, you leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I only look at you, you know.”

Tsukishima’s eyes flickered to yours, something unreadable behind his gaze. Then, as if satisfied with your answer, he let out a small “Tch,” and pulled you even closer.

“…Good.”

My Masterlist

By request, the post to navigate all posts! Welcome :D

Due to the limit of links allowed in a single post, I'm beginning the process of linking my series to different posts, so expect changes!

My Ao3 has more of my works!

Haikyuu (Character x Reader):

Pregnancy:

1. Ushijima 2. Iwaizumi 3. Kuroo (NSFW) 4. Atsumu 5. Yaku 6. Daichi

Confessions

1. Tsukishima 2. Iwaizumi 3. Atsumu 4. Kita 5. Oikawa 6. Osamu 7. Kuroo

Rivals

(Link to all posts)

Jealousy

1. Tsukishima 2. Meian 3. Osamu 4. Kageyama 5. Iwaizumi 6. Atsumu 7. Kyotani (Mad Dog) 8. Oikawa 9. Suna (NSFW) 10. Nishinoya 11. Tendou

Unrequited Love

1. Oikawa & Bonus 2. Atsumu 3. Kenma 4. Bokuto

Husbandry

1. Iwaizumi 2. Atsumu 3. Tsukishima 4. Oikawa 5. Daichi 6. Bokuto (NSFW) 7. Kuroo (NSFW) 8. Kenma

Favourite Positions (NSFW)

(Link to all posts)

Anon Asks

1. Tsukishima 2. Aran 3. Aone 4. Inarizaki 5. Sakusa 6. Kenma 7. Tsukishima 8. Akaashi 9. Meian (NSFW) 10. Kita 11. Sakusa (NSFW) 12. Sugawara 13. Kuroo (NSFW) 14. Bokuto (NSFW) 15. Yaku (NSFW)

Managerial Duties

1. Nekoma 2. Karasuno & Part 2 3. Inarizaki & Bonus 4. Aoba Johsai 5. Fukurodani

Stand Alone Fics

1. Iwaizumi (NSFW) 2. Tsukishima Parts 1, 2, and 3 3. Atsumu (NSFW)

Broken Telephone Pt. 3

For the most part, you’d gotten over the ‘grocery shopping incident’ as you liked to call it. You’d had a very stern talk with both Kugisaki and Itadori the next day, making sure that they wouldn’t tell this secret of yours to the one person who you’d never want to know. The man of the hour, Fushiguro.

“This kinda feels like you’re threatening us…” Itadori had said, sitting in front of you, unable to look you in the eye. In full intimidation, you had simply raised a brow and said, “And?”

Just like that they dropped it and promised to not mention anything to Fushiguro. Well, Itadori at least, Kugisaki just scoffed but you took it as the best you could get from someone like her.

You could be pretty scary if you wanted to be, especially if it was a topic such as this. You seriously needed to do some damage control, because the more people who heard about this little secret, the greater the chance an unspeakable evil would announce itself. And if it did, you’d be absolutely screwed.

So with the two biggest mouths sewed shut, you didn’t think you had anything to worry about.

But just because they promised to not tell Fushiguro, didn’t mean that they promised to never bring it up again.

*Yeah, you really should’ve read the fine print. *

You’d learn that lesson the hard way almost a week later when the entire situation had once again left your mind.

In hindsight, that was truly your first mistake.

But to be fair, it’s harder to concentrate on your mortifying secret being exposed when you’re getting an ass-kicking of the century by your upperclassman.

It was a day hotter than most, considering you were still in the thick of spring. But that didn’t stop the unblocked sun from beating down enormous amounts of heat on you as you lay on the grass, trying to grasp the escaping breath that had been kicked out of you—courtesy of Maki-san.

“Nice, that’s five to zero. Wanna go for round six?” Maki didn’t seem out of breath in the slightest, doing a little twirl with her staff. And while that would give you enough fight and energy to push you to go another round, that was what pushed you the four other times.

You think it was safe to assume you weren’t going to be winning anytime soon.

“Thanks for the offer, Maki-san, but I think I’ll pass. Maybe I’ll spar with someone who’s more merciful.” You’ve sat upright now, panting shallowly while you wipe the sweat off your face.

“I think you’ve worked her enough Maki. I don’t think you want a reputation of being more cold-blooded than you already are, and to be known for beating up your underclassmen.” You heard Panda-senpai from behind you and you turned to see his extended hand, or rather paw, offering to help you up. You give an appreciative smile as you stand, your legs straining from the pure exhaustion Maki-san put you through. You were definitely going to get her back for this.

Yeah, as if you could.

“It’s not training if you aren’t pushed.” Maki stated defensively, crossing her arms sourly. You decided to not add your input.

You stretch out your tired muscles while looking across the track and field area you were training in, noticing that the others were nowhere to be seen. Others being Fushiguro, Itadori, Kugisaki, and Inumaki-senpai.

“Where are the others?” You ask, and Panda points to a small shaded seating area. You assume they’re getting a break from the sun. Wordlessly, you all head towards the area, finding the students as Panda said, sitting in the shade. You make eye contact, and they wave you over.

“Finished getting beat up by Maki-san?” Kugisaki asks, smug voice enhancing her teasing gaze. You narrow your eyes, debating on whether you want to fight her today. You decide that you’ve fought enough for the day and choose to be passive.

“Yeah pretty much. By the way, how was falling practice with Panda-senpai? Still eating dirt?” Your face mimics hers as you see hers drop, hearing the other members of the group chuckle in the background. You said you wouldn’t fight, but you wouldn’t take her shit sitting down. She tsks and you nudge her playfully, before looking among the group, and noticed immediately that it’s missing a key face.

“Where’s Fushiguro?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You hear Itadori’s voice creep up, face dripping with mischief, knowing eyes boring into you, with Kugisaki joining him almost immediately. On the outside, your face remained passive and calm, as if there wasn’t a hidden meaning to their words, but on the inside, you were considering how much trouble you could get in for murdering your classmates. And whether it’d be really worth it.

The penalties weren’t really that much of a deterrent at this point.

“Yes, that’s why I asked.” You respond plainly, trying to stop the suspicion growing in the second years, the tone in Itadori’s voice most likely letting them know something might be up.

“Salmon roe.” Inumaki responds to your question, making a motion with his hands to help you understand what he means.

“Off to get drinks?” You ask to confirm, and Inumaki nods.

“Kugisaki made him go off alone a little while ago.” Itadori adds, deciding to drop the teasing. You hum in understanding.

“I’ll go over there too. I doubt he got what I wanted.” You were being completely honest when you wanted to go to the vending machine to just get a drink. Of course, Fushiguro alone would be a bonus, but you didn’t like altering your actions simply to get a boy’s attention, you simply found it below your own level of self-respect.

But of course, idiots didn’t see it that way. And you should’ve realized that.

You hear the two idiots in question hum knowingly, and you don’t even have to look to see them smiling at each other smugly.

“Sure…” Their simultaneous response paired with the look they were sharing had you stop dead in your tracks.

“Careful, or I’ll convince Fushiguro to give me your drinks instead.” Your voice is calm, delivered with your usual dryness but mixed in with severe undertones of ‘drop it, you assholes’, but that sure as hell didn’t stop them.

“You can’t get him out of your mind for a second! Even your plans to screw us over involve him!” At this point, you swore you could feel your blood pressure rise.

You realize that Kugisaki is crass and blunt, and you’re willing to accept that, but you really can’t accept her lack of awareness.

It was really too much at this point.

You clench your teeth, knowing now that you’re completely screwed. The second-years weren’t dense, and you knew they’d already be somewhat suspicious at the first comment, but those two Neanderthals just put the final nail in the coffin.

“What’s going on?” You hear Maki ask, looking between you and the other two, slightly cowering at the pure aura of anger now surrounding your form.

Silence fills the area, with the first years not knowing what to say, and second years standing there in basically complete confusion.

And then it happened.

“[Name]’s in love with Fushiguro!” Kugisaki blurts out, and your jaw drops to the floor. Immediately all eyes were on you, causing your already there blush to burn ever redder across your cheeks, giving everyone the confirmation that it was indeed true.

To some extent.

“Wha-what?! I am not! I-I never said-“ You continue to stutter and cut yourself off, the stares of the first and second years being a little too much. You bury your face in your hands as you hope and pray that the world swallows you whole.

No such thing occurred.

“Well, To be fair, [Name] said that she liked him, not loved him.” Itadori, of all people, is the one who comes to your rescue.

Well, kind of.

You snap your head up at his words. “O-oi!“

You go unnoticed by the two loudmouths, who were getting sucked into their own argument.

“Hah? Are you stupid? Of course she loves him. She talks about him all the time, and told me that she even wanted to get screwed by-“

“I never said any of that!” You felt like you wanted to pull your own hair out at this point, stomping your foot like a child and cutting Kugisaki off. Your little outburst manages to snap them out of it.

But you just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

“Is this even new information?” Maki’s words hit you like a freight train, whipping around to look at the now unimpressed second-years.

“Wh-what?”

“I mean, even if you didn’t say anything, it’s pretty damn obvious that you like him.” You swore you could feel your heart stop.

“That-That’s not true! I’ve never shown my feelings for him.” You’re quick to defend yourself, not hearing your own words.

“So you do like him?” You hear Itadori pipe in, making you jump. You don’t even have any time to smack him until Panda decides to add his fifty cents.

“Regardless of whether she’ll admit it, she does. Whenever he’s training, she’ll stare at him so hard you can practically see hearts in her eyes. I’m surprised you guys didn’t know until now.” You know what, you’ll retract your previous statement. Now you want the ground to swallow you whole.

“Can all of you shut up?! I do not stare at him!” You yell, trying to keep the last shred of dignity you have intact, only for it to be completely shattered by the disbelieving eyes of your classmates.

“Bonito flakes.” It’s the tired tone of your upperclassmen that manages to finally push you over the edge.

“Okay, okay, fine!” You snap, the redness running across your cheeks removing any seriousness or intensity you wanted to have. The only thing you’re met with is indifference and amusement as your classmates watch you.

“Believe what you will, whether it’s true or not is irrelevant.” You say through clenched teeth, ignoring Maki’s eye roll and Kugisaki’s scoff. “But just keep this ridiculous theory to yourselves.” You weren’t really talking to the second years at this point, but the only people dumb enough to tell Fushiguro and effectively ruin your life.

You stare down Itadori and Kugisaki. With them looking at each other and then at you. “I don’t care what it is I’ll have to do, but you two are as good as dead if you tell Fushiguro anything.” You hiss, too angry to notice that their eyes are now not looking at you, but behind you.

“Tell me what?”

The voice makes your heart drop all the way down to your feet.

You whip around to an extremely suspicious-looking Fushiguro holding a small bag of drinks. He looked extremely confused, but not awkward. He didn’t hear anything.

You silently thanked all the Gods you could think of. But you weren’t off the hook just yet.

He started to look to the others, searching for someone to fill him in, but they didn’t give him a coherent answer, purposefully avoiding eye contact and mumbling to themselves.

Some friends they are. You make a mental note to curse them out later.

You needed to come up with a reasonable excuse, and quick. Because the more time you let him think on this, the harder it’ll be for him to believe anything half decent.

But being the presence of your crush, (Yeah, you weren’t going to deny it anymore.) your mind draws a fat blank and you just end up dumbly opening and closing your mouth like a gaping fish.

The seconds are agonizingly slow, and the silence among the group is soul-crushingly loud. You knew it must’ve been extremely hard to watch. And maybe it was because it was hard to watch, or she was bored, that Maki decided to help dig you out of the hole you fell into.

More like pushed into and buried, but you digress.

“She was just embarrassed that she lost to me so many times during training. She doesn’t want you to think less of her.” Her tone is light and casual, and you’re almost scared of how convincingly good your senpai sounds. You see the others follow her lead, nodding and adding small agreements. You catch on quickly.

“Uh… yeah, that’s it. I was just a little embarrassed.” You add on, avoiding looking at him so he couldn’t see the redness on your cheeks that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. He raises a brow, and your heart beats faster as you watch him process your excuse. You feel your blood pulse through your ears as you wait for his response.

“Well, Maki-senpai is a formidable opponent and she does push people a little hard.” You hear Maki let out a scoff, but you pay no mind to it. “Plus, you just started training recently. I wouldn’t be too upset about losing to her.” He finishes. You could tell by his face that he wanted to add more, but decided to keep it to himself.

You’d take that any day.

You laugh, trying to edge out the awkwardness and nervousness in your voice before speaking. “Yeah, you’re right. It sounds stupid now. I’d appreciate it if we just forgot about this.” You rub the sides of your arms, still avoiding looking him in the eye.

“Alright. Here.” You hear his bag rustle and it causes you to look up at him. After a couple of seconds, he pulls out your favourite drink. You show your confusion. You didn’t ask him for a drink.

Seeing your expression, he explains himself. “I always see you get this one. Figured you’d want it.” He hands it to you before giving everyone else the drink they requested, acting like five minutes ago never happened. Rowdiness of the group returning to homeostasis.

You stare at the drink with the dumbest smile on your face, not being able to hide it.

You chose to ignore the looks of your classmates.