#jackal press

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

There’s a Bit of Sociopathy in Him”: Eddie Redmayne on Playing a Complete Enigma in ‘The Day of the Jackal’

The Day of the Jackal

By Christina Radish

The Peacock and Sky series The Day of the Jackal, which ranked #1 on Peacock’s Top 10 TV Shows chart and was the biggest new series ever to launch on Sky, pits a highly elusive lone assassin (Eddie Redmayne) against a British intelligence officer (Lashana Lynch) whose sole focus becomes tracking him down. A ghost until Bianca Pullman starts to put the pieces together, once she is on the trail of The Jackal, she’s too driven to stop hunting him in a cat-and-mouse game that keeps you on the edge of your seat. The Jackal is a master chameleon with the ability to disappear into a full transformation, from his face to his age to his voice, while Bianca is someone unwilling to lose her focus once she’s started down a particular path, no matter the cost. Thankfully, the success of the series has already led to a Season 2 pick-up, giving the two characters further opportunity to ultimately collide.

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

Congratulations to Eddie and The Day of the Jackal for their two nominations for the Broadcasting Press Guild Awards!

The Day of the Jackal received two nominations for Best Drama Series and Eddie Redmayne's performance.

Winners will be announced on March 20th!

📸 Source: Carnival Films on Instagram

[morgaseus]

So many fine men in fairy tail yet I cant find any ff of them😭 fairy tail is so underrated it’s criminal

[jackals-ships]

dogdual wedding also and dogs just staring Intently at the water and going ".....you're gonna have to throw me in." "oh I wwvas already plannin on it" "...terrifying! thank you!"

[static-electric-dreams]

Forgot to post this -- a late Xmas gift for @pressed-possum featuring their Sucralite-sona, Kiwi, hanging out with Needle and Jackal :3 they're gushing about videogames, I reckon!

Process video below:

[realmariesplatoon]

never getting over darrow’s constant, unwavering insistence on always pointing out how good cassius looks in any given scene. even at the start of morning star when he’s like barely hanging on by a thread both mentally and physically, he just HAS to tell us about how hot cassius looks rn

"ironclad kinship" he says

"I crave his approval" he says

(quick edit because wtf)

SHUT UP DARROW PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

[seumyo]

people thinking that sakusa’s being maltreated because of the bruises on his forearm, but the truth is . .

Sakusa is known to always wear his compression sleeves on and off the court for post-game press conferences. It completed his signature look. His overall flair.

Everything seemed normal at first, but it wasn’t long before murmurs surfaced through the room. Reporters exchanged glances, some scrolling through their phones, others whispering among themselves.

The reason? For the first time in a long while, Sakusa wasn’t wearing his compression sleeves.

His toned forearms were exposed for everyone to see, and to the media’s surprise, they weren’t completely unblemished. Faint bruises and clusters of reddish dots speckled his skin—nothing severe, but noticeable enough to raise eyebrows. Some looked older, fading into his skin, while others were more recent.

The questions were bound to come.

“Sakusa-san, many fans have noticed that you’re not wearing your usual sleeves today. And, well…” she hesitated, gesturing vaguely at his arms.

“There’s been a lot of speculation about the marks on your skin. Is everything alright?”

Sakusa blinked once, his expression unreadable. He glanced down at his arms, clearly catching onto what she meant. A moment of silence passed before he let out a slow exhale through his nose.

He knew this would happen eventually.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Then, into the mic, he deadpanned, “I’m fine.”

The room remained unconvinced.

Sakusa could already imagine what the internet was saying. Rumors were probably spreading like wildfire—was he getting into fights? Had he been injured in training? Worse, was something happening at home?

“If I may, are those from mosquitos? With the recent outbreak of mosquitos due to the warm weather, could it be from those?”

“No.”

“Allergies, perhaps?”

“None.”

A few more reporters shuffled in their seats, hesitant but clearly eager to dig deeper.

Then, another one asked, “Just to clarify, you’re saying these marks aren’t from… any sort of external conflict?”

Sakusa’s brow twitched. He leaned forward slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask as he adjusted the mic, and let out another small sigh. “I’m not being abused, if that’s what people are implying.”

The room went silent. His fellow players exchanged approving nods, letting their teammate handle the situation.

“My wife is in medical school,” Sakusa continued, his voice even, matter-of-fact. “She’s refreshing her phlebotomy skills, and I often volunteer to be her patient whenever she needs someone for a demo or assignment.”

The silence stretched for a moment before a few quiet chuckles broke through, some from relief, others from sheer amusement at the unexpected explanation. Well, it wasn’t often Sakusa talked about you.

“So… you’re saying these marks are from blood extractions?”

“Yes,” he answered, tilting his head slightly as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “She wants to practice, and I’d rather help her than have her struggle to find volunteers.”

Hinata whispered something to Bokuto, but even with the low volume of the mic, Sakusa still caught it.

“That’s kinda romantic.”

He turned his head slightly to glare at them, but Bokuto was already grinning. “No, but really! That’s, like, peak husband material. You’re not even fond of monthly checkups.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Meian chuckled. “You’re literally letting someone practice on you repeatedly. That’s dedication.”

Reporters were already typing away, some clearly rewriting their headlines. What had started as a potentially scandalous story had turned into something else entirely.

The media had long known Sakusa to be a private person, almost aggressively so. He rarely spoke about his personal life, and to this day, many fans still couldn’t believe he was married. Out of all the MSBY Black Jackals players, Sakusa and your marriage are by far the most private.

It wouldn’t even have been known if it weren’t for Hinata’s post with the newly wedded couple a year ago!

And yet, here he was, casually revealing that he lets you practice medical procedures on him just to support your studies.

“Is she any good?” another reporter asked, grinning now. “At phlebotomy?”

His eyes narrowed briefly. “Her undergraduate course is medical laboratory science—so yes, she’s been doing this for years.”

“And you’ve never complained?”

He shrugged. That was the stupidest question he’s heard today.

“Why would I? She supports me in my career. The least I can do is support her in hers.”

The room was quiet for a second before a wave of approving murmurs spread across the lobby area. The tension had completely shifted.

Bokuto grinned. “Man, you’re really down bad for your wife, huh?”

Sakusa sighed, clearly regretting every life decision that led him to sitting next to Bokuto in this moment. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to volleyball.”

Hinata laughed. “It’s not, but it’s fun to watch you get all flustered as you tell them more about [Last Name], Omi!”

“I’m not flustered,” Sakusa muttered, tugging at his jersey sleeve slightly as if contemplating whether he should just start wearing them all the time again to avoid situations like this.

“Like hell ye aren’t,” Atsumu snorted.

By the time the conference ended, social media had already latched onto the revelation.

#SakusaBestHusband started trending almost immediately, with fans gushing over how unexpectedly sweet he was. Some joked that they wanted a “Sakusa-level” of support in their relationships.

-

You had been watching the press conference from your laptop at home, your face buried in your hands as your notifications blew up.

A few minutes later, Sakusa messaged you.

Kiyoomi: I hate the internet.

You: And they love you, actually.

Kiyoomi: They won’t shut up about me letting you stab me with needles.

You: You do let me stab you with needles.

Kiyoomi: It’s more than that. Ugh, people don’t educate themselves enough about your profession

Kiyoomi: And it sounds worse when you say it like that.

You laughed, shaking your head.

You: Well, you are the best husband in the whole world ever. You kind of brought this on yourself.

He didn’t reply right away, and you assumed he was on his way back home. But when your phone buzzed again, your heart warmed at the short but sincere message.

Kiyoomi: You’re worth it. Be home in 20 minutes

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[whisperofwonder]

Wife Guy

The wife guys of Haikyuu

(The term does have some negative connotations but I don't mean it like that here. They're just some dudes who really love their wife. Cool? Cool.)

Featuring: Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime, Sakusa Kiyoomi x wife!reader - ~300 words each

(if someone else needs to be here, tell me. I might write it.)

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

Come on. He's the ultimate unironic wife guy.

You, his wife, are the light of his life. He adores you. He doesn't shut up about you. Your friends and family know this, the Jackals definitely know this, even his fans know this because he can't resist posting about you even when the social media managers get on his case. The moment your name or the words "my wife" pass his lips, anyone within earshot knows that it's all over.

He never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you. You need to know that, in his eyes, every little thing about you is perfect. Not only that, but he's a really touchy guy. He loves holding your hand, putting his arm around you, barraging you with kisses, any form of skin to skin contact with you. You and everyone around you have gotten used to the constant PDA over the years. He's just so pure and sweet about it that no one can even say a thing about it.

One of the things he loves about being a professional athlete is that it gives him the means to spoil you. Designer items, the latest tech, lush vacations, whatever it is that catches your eye, he's already got his credit card out. He's not trying to buy your love, he's showering you in his. No matter how often you insist that all you need to be happy is him, he can't resist a little treat every now and then.

The day you agreed to marry him was one of the best days of his life. Every time he takes notice of the ring on his finger, a little jolt of joy goes through him, even after all this time. The mere fact that he gets to spend the rest of his life loving you is simply unmatched.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

There's a reason that Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer is written as a knight in every single medieval AU. He's chivalrous, hard-working, and utterly devoted to his wife. He might be quieter about it, but his love for you is an undercurrent to everything. From the kiss pressed to your forehead when he gets up to start the day to the moment he pulls you against his chest in bed each night, there are a hundred little moments when he shows just how much you mean to him.

Most obvious to everyone around him is the small smile that comes across his face every single time he talks about you. "Oh, my wife picked it out." "Yeah, she did make this." "I'm taking her to dinner tonight, actually."

You will never walk closest to the street on his watch. Forgot your jacket? No you didn't, he tossed it in the back seat. When you're washing dishes after dinner, he's right there with the towel to dry. Craving ice cream at 10 pm? The corner store is only a few minutes walk for him, no it's no trouble, don't be ridiculous. It all just goes to show that he's constantly thinking of you - what you might need, what you might want, what might make you smile. If it's within his power, why wouldn't he do it for you? It's just inconceivable.

You make his life better. All he wants is to do the same for you. He might never say it out loud, but being married to you is the fairy tale life he hadn't dared to hope for. Spending every day by your side is enough to make him the happiest man in the world.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

His wife is his person. The world is full of irritants, uncomfortable situations, people who rub him the wrong way. You are the one that soothes it all away. His safe space. Coming home to you every day feels like a weight sliding from his shoulders.

He took to the simple day-to-day of married life so well. Dating was never his scene. Truth be told, you've felt married long before he put a ring on your finger. Everyone says the pair of you are the token old married couple. He might scoff, but to him it's the best kind of compliment.

He takes real pride in the home you share together. It's a sacred place that deserves to be kept neat and clean and comfortable. No matter what kind of day he has, he'll always spend at least a little time making sure everything is running smoothly for you, keeping up with the small things that he knows make your life a little easier.

His favorite moments are the quiet ones you share together. When either of you has had a less than perfect day, it's an unspoken rule that you'll be spending the evening together, curled up in your own little world where nothing else matters. Nothing is more comforting to him than the feel of you in his arms, breathing in your familiar scent. Everything else simply melts away.

Marrying you was the easiest decision he's ever made. There was no alternative. In the course of his life, he knows that he's doing something right, because with you by his side, he knows he can face anything else that may come.

[fayelero]

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your shared apartment with Atsumu, casting a warm glow across the hardwood floors. You had just returned from your morning run when you noticed a sleek black package sitting innocently by your door. The distinct white Chanel logo made your heart skip a beat.

"No way..." you muttered, picking up the package with trembling hands. Just last week, you had casually mentioned how beautiful that new Chanel collection was while window shopping with Atsumu. You specifically remembered telling him, "It's gorgeous, but please don't even think about it. I'm happy with my regular bags!"

But as you opened the package, there it was – the exact same black leather bag you had been admiring, complete with its iconic chain strap and quilted pattern. Your jaw dropped at its beauty, but immediately after came the familiar exasperation.

"ATSUMU MIYA!" Your voice echoed through the apartment.

You heard shuffling from the bedroom, and soon enough, your boyfriend appeared in the hallway, wearing his MSBY Black Jackals training shorts and a plain white t-shirt. His blonde hair was still slightly messy from sleep, but there was a telling glimmer in his eyes that he was trying hard to suppress.

"Mornin', what's with all the yellin'?" he asked innocently, leaning against the wall with that signature smirk of his.

You held up the bag, your eyes narrowing. "Care to explain this?"

"What? That's a nice bag ya got there. Secret admirer?" He scratched his head, playing dumb, but the slight pink tinge on his ears gave him away.

"Atsumu," you said firmly, though you couldn't help but feel your heart warm at his thoughtfulness, "who else would send me a Chanel bag?"

"Maybe it was Bokun? Ya know how he gets when he's shoppin' for Keiji-kun, might've got carried away and bought ya somethin' too!" His explanation was so ridiculous that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Bokuto-san, who panicked last week because he accidentally bought premium rice instead of regular rice, bought me a Chanel bag?"

Atsumu's facade cracked as he let out a chuckle. "Okay, okay, ya caught me." He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "But before ya lecture me about spendin' money, just hear me out."

You sighed, letting your head rest against his chest. "Tsum, we've talked about this. You don't need to buy me expensive things."

"I know," he said softly, his Kansai accent thickening with emotion. "But ya work so hard, and ya never ask for anythin'. Ya even pack my lunches for away games and come to every match ya can. Let me spoil ya a little bit?"

"But—"

"Plus," he interrupted with a playful grin, "ya should see yer face whenever we pass by that store. Yer eyes light up like when ya watch me serve an ace."

You couldn't help but blush. "That's different! Your serves are actually impressive."

"And my girlfriend deservin' nice things ain't impressive enough reason?" He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I got money to spend, and I wanna spend it on the love of my life. Sue me."

You looked down at the bag, running your fingers over the smooth leather. "It is beautiful," you admitted reluctantly.

"Just like ya," he said, and even though it was cheesy, your heart fluttered. "Now, are ya gonna model it for me or what? Gotta make sure my investment was worth it," he teased.

You playfully swatted his arm but couldn't hide your smile. "Fine, but this is the last time, okay? No more surprise luxury gifts."

"Sure, sure," he agreed too quickly, making you suspicious.

"Atsumu..."

"What? I didn't say anythin'!" He raised his hands in surrender, but you could see him already planning his next surprise in those mischievous brown eyes of his.

"You're impossible," you sighed, but reached up to kiss him anyway. "Thank you for the bag. I love it... and I love you."

His resulting smile was brighter than any designer purchase could ever be. "Love ya too, even when yer yellin' my name through the apartment."

"Only because you deserve it!"

"Worth it," he grinned, pulling you closer. "Every single time."

Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[haikyu-mp4]

Wrong team – Kageyama x reader wc 986 – f!reader, brother!Atsumu, brother!Osamu

Being a student could be difficult, but being a student in Osaka and Osamu Miya’s little sister had its perks. Osamu hired you quite quickly after you graduated from high school, letting you work part-time at the restaurant, which also meant you were his favourite employee to bring for job excursions.

Like this huge one, where your other brother and his team were playing against the Schweiden Adlers.

You practically bounced as you walked past the banners when entering the arena a couple of hours before the game was set to start. Chatting away with Osamu on how you thought the teams would play, the two of you enjoyed setting up the stall and preparing everything to hopefully sell a bunch of delicious onigiri.

“Okay, ya did good. Ya get…” Osamu checked his wrist watch, humming under his breath before smiling up at you again. “Fifteen minutes to roam around, then I need ya back here.”

“Thanks!” you squealed and high-fived him quickly before running off, still wearing your complete uniform. Osamu had told you it was better to keep it on so that no one thought you had snuck in, so you even had the cap and name tag on.

You first ventured around the halls for a bit, nervous to approach the actual court where you could hear them warming up. However, the nervousness eventually couldn’t stop you from peeking inside.

There they are, the gorgeous Schwe- oops, surely you mean the Black Jackals?

Smiling sheepishly to yourself, you slowly crept inside the main arena to observe. Just as you found Atsumu, he seemed to catch a break and ran off towards Osamu’s stand, probably to check if everything was okay. You frowned, wondering if you should turn back so you could wish him good luck before-

“Hi.”

It felt like your heart jumped right out of your chest at the unexpected company, eyes snapping to the Kageyama Tobio standing there with a volleyball tucked between his elbow and waist. In an attempt to hide that you had to catch your breath, you cleared your throat and adjusted your hat. “Hey! Ready for the game?”

That was smooth enough. Good job.

“Getting there, it’s our turn for warm-ups on the court in about a minute,” he told you casually. Clearly, he wasn’t aware of your clammy hands and burning ears.

“I’ll be cheering for ya! From the food stands,” you told him with an awkward chuckle.

Kageyama walked closer to you, leaning in to look at your name tag and the logo on your shirt. His eyes seemed to brighten, and you felt entranced with their oceans. “Thank you. I might have to come get some onigiri if you have any left after the game… and the signing… and the press meeting.”

You chuckled more genuinely this time, charmed by how he got more and more dejected at the realisation that he might not have the time to get onigiri today. “If yer ever back in town, ya could always swing by. We’d be happy to serve ya, maybe even add yer photo to the wall of fame.”

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be cheering for the other team? With that last name on your shirt.” Your heart once again tried to kill you as it did a double take with Kageyama’s surprisingly cheeky comment.

“I’ll have ya know it’s not just on ma’ shirt-”

“Y/N?!”

You sighed, a headache already forming at Atsumu’s heavy footsteps. “I just came to tell ya good luck, Tsum.”

Atsumu glanced at Kageyama, who seemed to take the hint and gave you a little bow before gathering with his team to start warming up their attacks. You waved him goodbye before getting pulled back by Atsumu, all the way back to Osamu’s stall.

“It’s yer responsibility when we’re here that no Adlers get close to her,” Atsumu instructed to deaf ears. Osamu was too busy readying the register and simply waved him off. “She’s our baby sister- ow!”

After you threw a solid punch at his arm, he finally let go of you so you could return to your spot behind the stall. “Cringe,” Osamu commented, making you nod in agreement.

“I’m barely two years younger than ya.”

After Atsumu made his way back to his team, you barely had a spare minute to think much about your interaction with Kageyama. A lot of people came to watch, including several old friends of yours from Inarizaki, so you sold a lot of food before the game started and held a conversation or two to catch up where you could.

About ten minutes into the game, the line finally dispersed as everyone got back to their seats to watch the best game of the season. “Tsumu’s up to serve,” you mumbled as if Osamu wasn’t watching the same thing.

The serve was great, but Hoshiumi was on it, getting the ball up for Kageyama in a tough spot. You clutched your hands together as you watched in anticipation, ultimately cheering when the set led to Schweiden Adlers’ point. Osamu placed a hand on your head, pushing your cap down over your face. “Wrong team, idiot.”

Osamu hadn’t actually taken any of Atsumu’s allegations seriously, but maybe he should have. That’s what he thought when he watched Kageyama walk inside his restaurant one evening, hands tucked deep in his pockets and looking around like he wasn’t there for him.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya. How can I help ya?”

“I was hoping-” Kageyama’s eyes trailed from the kitchen behind Osamu and back to him, a small pout on his lips. “I’ll just have today’s special.”

“So yer the Adler my brother warned me about, tsk tsk.” Osamu shook his head and sighed as if this took years off his life. “I’ll get her.”

Atsumu will be livid when he hears about this, Osamu thought, and that was always his greatest motivation.

masterlist

requested by @livelaughlovetoru for my event, anything for you <3 I changed your idea a little to my preference, but I hope it’s still enjoyable!

[heich0e]

sakusa is not a fan of babies.

he thinks they're sort of annoying. and loud. and he doesn't understand why their hands are always sticky.

he doesn't feel any real paternal instinct or drive to have kids of his own, and he never has, but when atsumu's baby looks up at him from the stroller you pushed court-side in the MSBY training gym one afternoon, with his big round eyes and a (frankly kind of endearingly dumb) look...

kiyoomi can admit the kid's not totally repulsive.

"omi-omi!" atsumu chirps cheerfully from the other side of the stroller when he notices his teammate approach, leaning over the handle towards him—in response to which kiyoomi recoils slightly on instinct. "isn't he cute? looks just like me, huh?"

kiyoomi opts to ignore atsumu, and turns to you instead—standing at your husband's side with a wry but affectionately exasperated little smile. you shoot kiyoomi an apologetic look for atsumu's antics while the two of you greet each other politely.

truthfully, you're one of the few visitors to the jackals's training gym who kiyoomi is willing to take a break in his practice to greet. though he usually finds these sorts of disruptions troublesome, you rarely visit and never stay long out of respect for the team's time, so he doesn't mind it quite so much. you're here this afternoon just to drop off paperwork your husband left behind at home that morning, even after you reminded him twice not to forget—which you explain with a pointed look at the blonde at your side. (kiyoomi has long-believed you're entirely too good—too sensible—to be married to a guy like miya.)

greetings aside, atsumu jumps right back into his nonsense.

"so, omi—wanna hold him?"

kiyoomi's lips part to immediately decline the offer, but just before he can get the words past his teeth—

"mimi!"

he freezes.

kiyoomi's gaze flickers down to the little boy in the pram again, more in shock than anything, and finds the baby's eyes are still firmly fixed in his direction—a tiny, semi-toothed grin on display now. "mimi!" the child says again, with that same lilt of excitement and a giggle as his little hand reaches out in the outside hitter's direction.

sakusa glances up at miya suspiciously—notably excusing you from the receiving end of his mistrustful gaze.

"what's mimi?" kiyoomi asks him flatly.

"yer mimi!" atsumu laughs, reaching forward and ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "little guy watches the game tapes with me on rest days so mama here can get some rest of her own. he musta heard me complainin' about ya messin' up yer serves one too many times."

"he picked it up a while ago," you add, shoving lightly at atsumu's arm for his rudeness. your eyes twinkle with mirth as you go on to say: "he always cheers when you're on the screen. i think you might be his favourite player."

atsumu guffaws at the suggestion, balking about the indignity—the betrayal—of it all, but kiyoomi largely ignores him (which he's gotten very good at over the years) and looks down at the baby once more instead. the little boy's hand is still outstretched in his direction, waving enthusiastically for his attention. kiyoomi peeks at you as if to translate.

"he just wants to say hi," you explain with an encouraging smile, coming around to the side of the stroller and crouching at your son's side. you press a kiss to his squishy cheek, and he gurgles happily in response with his hand still waving. "you're excited to see mimi, huh?"

and, well, kiyoomi's just as shocked as anyone else when he reaches out and tentatively brushes the tips of his fingers against the little boy's outstretched palm. even more shocked when he doesn't pull away once the baby's little hand wraps itself tightly around his pointer finger with a delighted squeal.

your son's hand is surprisingly soft—and thankfully not sticky.

and for the first time in his life he can't help but think that maybe babies aren't so bad after all.

at least this one isn't.

(the credit for which kiyoomi gives entirely to you and not your obnoxious husband.)

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

Ursula and Eddie!!

New photo from photoshoot in Madrid!!

Source getty Images (via Ursulolita on IG)

[eddieredmayneargentinablog]

EDDIE REDMAYNE // THE DAY OF THE JACKAL // premiere and press // #mensgrooming x #akgroomer using @circa1970beauty hair & skin x @akgroomer styled x @harry_lambert

📸 #Repost Amy komorowski @akgroomer IG

[simp-ly-writes]

Skyfall

─────── · · A 'Day of the Jackal' (TV series) FanFic

Pairing: Alexander "Jackal" Duggan x Fem!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Doing everything in your power to get away from the small town you grew up in, you moved to the big city and studied to now become an overworked nurse. But there was always a small part of you that wondered whatever happened to your childhood friend (and crush) Alexander Duggan... so what happens one night when you discover a bloodied man inside your apartment?

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, depictions of blood and gore, mentions of guns and violence, usage of pet-names (ex. love, sweetheart, etc) swearing, fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,814 | PART TWO

─ · · A/N: How are there not like a dozen fics on this show?!?! It's giving the Gentlemen (2024 - Series) all over again... so I must write something on it! Be sure to comment or reblog if you enjoy~

─────── · ·

You had just finished working a 48 hour shift at the hospital and after a two hour commute on delayed public transit due to the onslaught of never ending rain, you were finally at the door of your one bedroom apartment.

Eyes blurry as you fumbled for your keys, cursing under your breath as you dropped them your back-ached as you bent down and finally opened your front door. To make matters better, it appeared you had left the bathroom light on in your rush to get out of the house after waking up late. well, fuck, you said to yourself, kicking the door closed behind you.

Setting down your keys in the dish and locking the door and chain, you shuffled your coat off your shoulders and allowed it to dry before sitting down on the bench in the entrance ,shaking your boots off and changing into your slippers with a heavy sigh.

Picking yourself back up, knees feeling weak as you grip the doorway before heading into your kitchen, you feel around for the light switch, eyes hissing from the sudden change before placing the kettle on and choosing your favourite themed-mug. You open your fridge and peel open a pre-made salad, throwing the bamboo utensils aside as you grab your metal ones instead.

The kettle begins to bubble, steam rising, your ears start to ring as exhaustion clouds over your every thought and movement as you pour the blueberry's out onto the greens of your bowl and tear open a packet of sleepy-time tea.

The kettle clicks off as you breathe in the steam, closing your eyes as you lean against the counter and bring the mug up to your lips, a sudden hiss coming from the bathroom has your eyes rushing to open a moment afterwards.

That once ringing in your ears is now replaced for a rising heart rate, its beat drumming through your head. That once exhaustion you had felt now out the window as adrenaline pumps through your veins. It was too early in the morning for any of your elderly neighbours who all were retied to be up leaving only one explanation left, there was someone in my apartment- correction, there is someone in my apartment right now.

Gently setting your cup on the counter as softly as you can, you feel around the still-opened cutlery drawer for a knife and walk out of the kitchen and down into the hall. You make your breaths shallow, footsteps accounting for every squeaky floorboard you remember before pausing and pressing yourself against the wall near the door to the bathroom.

You rise the blade up from your side and for a split second, you see a tall silhouette in the warm light before the light flicks off, casting the apartment in an equal darkness and silence. All to be heard is the radiator humming in the window as your knuckles turn white around the handle of your blade.

You close your eyes, counting, one... two... but never quite making it to three as whoever the intruder was inside your apartment had suddenly turned out of the bathroom. Before you could scream, a large palm was being place over your mouth, your wrist twisted allowing the knife to hall and clatter against the floorboards.

You tried to twist, raising your leg up for a twist yet their open hand was already accounting for that, pushing your knee aside and using their bodyweight to press you flush against the wall.

You shake in place, feeling the intruders heartbeat on your chest as you both share ragged breaths. They release their hand from your mouth as you open and close it, debating of begging or not before feeling a sudden softness as your neck has you jumping as it shifts against your skin, tickling you- curly hair you can see highlighted by moonlight coming down the hall.

They rest their head against your shoulder, you can feel their shoulders move before hearing them chuckle, "Hello, love," they call out, their breath warm against your neck as your heart nearly jumping out of your chest as you more violently try and shake yourself away from their touch as their arms envelop you into a one-sided hug.

"Who... who are you?" you try and sound firm yet it comes out more shakily then you were intending. You push your hands against the strong chest, feeling the muscles underneath the thin sweater they wear, fingers extending- trying to shove them away with no avail as they stand firm in their spot.

"You know, I remember when you would shove and rough house with me on the play-equipment when we were younger. Thinking back..." the man laughs, you can feel his smile as he holds you, your fingers digging into his shirt, "...you really used to be so mean to me before changing that up so quickly the next year that I've always wondered why that was the case?"

You allow the question hang in the air, a name just on the cusp of your tongue as your hands move up from their chest to around their shoulders, you startle feeling a long metal object rather than more warm body heat. "I wouldn't touch that, love. I would have disassembled it before greeting you but I couldn't be too sure until you came home."

You nod, slowly, "Alex?" you whisper the name, unsure and nervous to get it wrong. The man grips you tighter, "yes, and... I need your help." You feel cold when he steps away, watching as reaching beside your head to turn the light switch back on before you can see his small smile... and bleeding side.

Your eyes go wide in horror as you look down to see your hand covered in a deep red liquid. "Fuck, you're bleeding!"

"It appears that I am," Alexander teases before wobbling in his stance, you rush over as he shrugs the large gun from over his shoulder, allowing it to settle on the floor before allowing you to help him over to the bathtub.

You stand there, looking down upon him for a sec, a thousand thoughts rushing through your head as you try and fathom how the man in front of you, currently bleeding out in your apartment and with what appeared to be a fucking sniper rifle was somehow also that little lanky boy who lived down the street and saved your life more than a few times before you threatened his own (with love, of course).

"I'm blushing under your attention, sweetheart. But I really must insist you put your education to use or else you'll be catching up with a corpse instead of a man," you nod again, unable to find words before running towards your kitchen in search of your workbag and first aid kit. Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, you rush around your apartment, knocking into doorframes before falling to your knees and lifting his shirt up.

Not allowing yourself to become distracted by only looking towards the gunshot wound you quickly feel along his side, the bullet did not go through, its still inside of him. You look up, through your lashes at Alexander, "this is going to hurt."

"It currently hurts," he says back, "but I rather be hurting than dead." In the next series of moments, your white bathroom tiles become dotted in red as blood drips down your elbows and scrubs. Alex is breathing heavily as you dig your pair of tweezers into his side, groaning, moaning and cursing, "could you please, shut up?" you smile sarcastically, eyebrows furrowed as you can see the slight glimmer of metal from your phones flashlight, bingo.

You could only imagine if one of your neighbours woke up now, your public imagine with them now potentially tainted the next time you rode in the elevator together. "A little difficult-" Alex begins to say, you throw one of your hand towels up, "mouth, now," you demand and receive a muffled, "yes, ma'am." Your hands shake, adrenaline wearing off finally as you squeeze the bullet as it slides and Alex wines, "sorry," you murmur before going in again and this time- you are successful.

The bullet is successfully dislodged as you hold it up to the light, impressed by how small it is, "hand-gun?" you make as an offhand comment before placing it on your vanity. And moving to disinfect and bandage the wound. Alex's veins appear sharp, running up his hand that grips his knees, his head tipping backwards as you stitch him up with precision, licking your lips as your cheeks flush. Get a grip, you scold yourself before standing.

Alex looks up at you, before removing the towel from his mouth, and standing, removing his shirt before pausing halfway as you curse him out, "Fucking hell, A! Don't go messing up my stitch work!" You shake your head, telling him to sit back down as you remove the article for him.

Your eyes move down from his face to his defined chest and abs that contract with his every breath he takes before examining your work- still intact, thankfully. "I do believe I have some explaining, after some much needed sleep though," Alexander says, watching as your blinks become extended as you open your hand up for him to take as just like old times you lead him yet instead of towards the swing sets you sit him down at the edge of your bed before feeling around in your closet for clothing from your ex.

Alex watches you with a tilted head, eyes narrowing once he sees the large shirt in your hand and sweatpants in the other. He grips the sheets as you look at him with concern, "would you like some pain relievers? I can only imagine how much that must-"

"I don't think your boyfriend would be quite too happy seeing another man sleeping in your bed, love," Alex says, taking the articles of clothing into his lap as you roll your eyes. "Ex-boyfriend," you clarify before helping Alexander into his clothes and throwing his old ones into your washing machine.

You tip your head back into the bedroom, "I'm gonna wash up, try and get some rest," you speak softly watching as Alex slowly lovers himself underneath your covers. "Mhmm and you will be joining me later?"

You blink, confused, "I am uh- going to go sleep on the couch-"

"Why? There's more than enough space here," Alex opens his eyes again, looking at you with a raised brow, arm flexing underneath his head.

"Well, uh, aren't you married?" you ask, looking at the ring on his left hand as it is now his time to clarify, "divorced, still keep the ring for appearances and all." You nod, a bit confused, "I'll be back in 10."

"I'll be counting on it."

─────── · ·

─ · · PART TWO

[jackals-ships]

HE IS HERE

BABY

[noosayog]

gravitate ft. miya atsumu

wc: 4.1k, part 1 of 2

contents/warnings: fwb dynamic, fluff, heavy on angst, suggestive but sfw, reader uses she/her prns, referred to as girlfriend, wife, reader has minor social anxiety

when i said this, i was referring to this

--

Of course it’d be the one time you say yes to the many invitations you get from Hinata to celebrate a post-game win with his teammates and other close friends. 

Even though you’ve met a handful of Hinata’s volleyball friends and teammates before, the prospect of being in an enclosed space with people you don’t know still makes you anxious. You pay a bit closer attention to your outfit before heading out. 

A 15-minute commute and one deep breath at the door later, you’re sat next to Hinata at the table as he introduces you to the rest of his current Black Jackals teammates. 

“You know Kageyama and my old high school teammates already. That’s Bokuto-”

“Hey!”

“That’s Sakusa-san,” 

A silent nod. 

“Hoshiumi-san,”

“Hello.”

“And Miya Atsumu-kun, our setter.” 

“Hi,” you nod shyly to everyone. The immediate halt in the conversation leaves you feeling like you need to bust out a joke or something. Luckily, everyone quickly turns their attention back to the menu, leaving you to catch your breath even though all you’ve done was say a one-syllable greeting. 

You spend much of the first half of dinner talking only to Hinata, racking your brain for topics for small talk, and speaking up only when you’ve been talked to first. 

A few drinks help loosen you up a bit and dinner ends without a hitch before the group decides to move to a nearby bar. 

You’re content to watch the group and their antics quietly, before excusing yourself to get another drink at the bar.

“‘Scuse me.” 

“”Oh,” you say, shying away from the voice. “I’ll move over.” 

“Thanks,” the unfamiliar voice responds. 

You stand awkwardly at the bar as you and the stranger try to flag down the bartender. You feel the prickly sensation of a stare at the side of your face and when you glance over, you find the stranger’s gaze on you. 

You give him an uncomfortable smile, before averting your eyes again. 

“Busy night, huh?” 

You glance at him again, giving him one nod of acknowledgement. 

“What’cha drinking?” 

“Oh, uh… just a beer, I think.” 

“Yeah? What kind?”

“Uh… I don’t know. Just whatever,” you say, hoping he takes the hint. 

“Can I make a suggestion then? What do you usually like to drink?” You glance back towards your group and accidentally make eye contact with Miya Atsumu, the setter you had met at dinner. He looks away just as quickly. 

You close your eyes in defeat before turning back to the bar, being careful not to make eye contact with the man beside you. “No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.” 

He inches closer, arm almost touching yours now. “Aww, c’mon. Just tell me. It’ll be on me.” 

You lean further away, the back of your thighs now pressing against the bar chair behind you. “I-” 

“Hey! Gettin’ another drink?” 

The said bar chair suddenly gets yanked away, leaving you stumbling back a few steps, but a hand comes up on your shoulder to steady you. You look up to see Miya Atsumu. He places one arm between you and the other man, angling his body to face you. 

“Oh! Atsumu. Yes, I am,” you can’t contain the relief in your exhale. 

You notice Atsumu inching backwards to give you more space and simultaneously box out the other guy. His back pushes into the other guy’s arm, who gives a weak protest. 

Atsumu looks behind him and offers a flippant, “sorry, buddy,” before flagging the bartender down with no issues.

“Another beer for me and…” Atsumu looks to you. 

“Make it two.” 

The two of you stand side by side while the bartender fills up the mugs and you rack your brain for things to say. 

“Sorry if I was bein’ a busybody,” Atsumu speaks first. “Just didn’t look like you were enjoyin’ it.” 

He juts a thumb behind his back to gesture at the guy, now a distance away. 

“Oh yeah- I mean, no. Uh, thanks. Yeah…” 

Atsumu laughs. “No worries and… there’s no need to be nervous around the guys. We’re a rowdy bunch, but all good people, I promise.” 

You pick at your fingers. “Was I that obvious?” 

“Little bit,” he chuckles. “Seems that the drinks are loosenin’ you up a bit though.” He gestures at the glass that the bartender dropped off in front of him and hands his card over. 

“I can pay…” 

“Nah, on me. You can take the next one if you feel bad.” 

You thank him and take the glass. 

Atsumu sits down on one of the bar chairs facing you. “So, how do you know Shoyo-kun?” 

Still standing, your eyes flicker to your group, still huddled around the same table where you left them. 

“Are…” we not going back? The question dies on your tongue when you turn back to Atsumu and see the way he stares, eyebrows raised as if he knows what you’re thinking and curious as to what decision you’ll make. 

You sit down in the bar chair next to him and he’s so easy to talk to and one thing leads to another and before you know it, you end up in his bed later that night.

– 

You wake up the next morning with foreign sheets tangled around your legs and an unfamiliar body warmth under your cheek. When you tilt your head up, you're met with Atsumu’s brown eyes. He’s awake and blinking lazily down at you, one arm still wrapped around your waist. 

It’s instinct, the way you look back down, embarrassed at having been caught and shy despite the state of your undress.

A raspy chuckle shakes from his chest where you have one palm flat against as your brain awakens its overthinking engine. 

You have no experience with hooking up with strangers, but he wouldn’t be looking for a no-strings attached type situation if he’s cuddling you in the morning, right? Or maybe you should’ve left last night?

But at the same time, isn’t poor etiquette to kick your partner out of bed the second you’re done? So maybe he’s just being polite by letting you crash here? And the cuddling, as comfortable as it is, is just him being a decent man? 

“Hey,” his gentle voice shakes you from your thoughts, one finger coming below your chin to meet his eyes. “Good mornin’” 

“Morning,” you mumble demurely, eyes desperately looking anywhere but him, even as he holds your face close. 

He drops a light kiss on your lips. “Last night was great. You feelin’ okay?” 

Your legs twitch in response. You belatedly realize that your legs are pushed between his. “A little sore, but I’m okay.” 

“Good. Wanna take a shower and we can talk over breakfast?” 

“‘Mkay.” 

You reluctantly take your legs back, relishing the last bit of his body heat, but Atsumu has other ideas. In one sweeping motion, he flips his duvet off and tosses you over his shoulder. 

“Atsumu!” 

He gives your thighs a pat before walking you over to the bathroom. You thank every god out there that you had some sense to pull your panties and one of his shirts on before passing out. 

He drops you off on the toilet seat. “Use anything you want. Fresh towels are in that drawer. There should be a new toothbrush under the sink.” 

“I could’ve walked myself.” 

He presses another kiss to your lips, the contact making you realize you’ve been pouting. “I know. Take your time, darlin’.” 

You make sure the door clicks shut behind him before you grab a fresh towel, hold it tight against your face and scream into the abyss. 

– 

A hot shower revives you. The ache between your legs stays but  the hot water helped, so you wobble your way to the kitchen. Two plates of toast and eggs sit on the dining table already as you watch Atsumu fill up a glass of water. When he sees you, he gestures for you to sit. 

“Hey, how was the shower?” 

You give your own body a once over before frowning at him. “I could’ve worn my clothes from yesterday.” 

A clean t-shirt was sitting folded for you on the toilet seat when you came out of the shower, so that’s all you were wearing over yesterday’s underwear. 

“And can you put on a shirt?” you add. 

He grins. You’re already getting used to seeing that expression on him. “Why? Am I distractin’ you? And in case you forgot, you spilled water all over yourself at the bar yesterday, so your clothes are still wet.”

“We should’ve put them in the dryer or at least hung them up last night…”

He walks over to you and pulls you towards the dining table. You let him coax you into a chair. “Well, we were a bit preoccupied when we got inside, yeah?” 

“Whatever…” you deflect, jabbing at the scrambled eggs on your plate. 

“So…” he starts, after putting the dishes in the sink and refusing your attempts to clean up. “About last night.” 

You tense up, clenching your fists. 

“I had a really good time and I really enjoyed talking to you.” 

Enjoyed, past tense. A part of you relaxes. At least you know the general direction he wanted to take this in. 

“Me too,” you respond. 

“And I don’t wanna give you the wrong idea, but I’m not looking for a committed relationship right now. I need to focus on volleyball and I mean, you’re Shoyo-kun’s friend, so I don’t want that to be weird either.” 

You nod. “I get it.” 

He looks startled at your easy response. “Really?” 

“Yeah. I really enjoyed talking to you too, but I’m not expecting us to start dating or anything.” 

He blinks. 

“Why do you look so surprised?” you ask, wondering if you should be offended by the reaction. 

“It’s not that I’m surprised. Well,I guess I am a bit. You don’t really seem like the type who’s used to casual hook ups.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I just mean-”

You laugh. “I know what you mean. I’m just playing with you.” He relaxes a bit. “You’re right. I don’t really do this,” you gesture between the two of you, “often. But like you said, I think we both really enjoyed each others’ company and we can leave it at that.” 

“Okay, then.” 

“Yep.” 

An awkward breath passes before he speaks up again. “I hung your clothes up to dry earlier this morning. They should be good now.” 

You’re not positive that he means it this way, but you take the hint anyway. “Thanks. I’ll get changed and get going.” 

He gets up after you. “Can I walk you back?”

You put a hand out to keep some distance between you two. “Atsumu. I think I can manage.” 

He smiles, unsure, but nods anyway. 

At the door, he opens his arms and you file in robotically, giving him a loose hug before saying goodbye. 

You feel slightly bad at the obvious distance you were putting between the two of you, and you’re sure Atsumu can pick up on it, but it’d be far better to make things a little awkward than to let him get any closer than he already has in just one night. 

– 

It takes another afterparty hosted by Hinata for you to see him again. You had kind of figured that the unspoken rule was that if neither of you reached out, it really meant nothing. Even though the two of you never exchanged numbers or social media, you’d be lying if you didn’t have a little hope that he’d ask someone for your social and DM you. But days, weeks, went by with your messages and DMs dry, so you packed up your foolish hopes and chucked them to the furthest corner of your brain. 

This time, the gathering is hosted at Bokuto’s beautiful lofty apartment, fully furnished with a modern kitchen, balcony overlooking Tokyo, and massive living area. 

Even though you know pretty much all the attendees today, it doesn’t keep you from feeling a bit nauseous on the elevator ride up. Once again, at the front door, you raise your finger to press on the doorbell, pausing to take a deep breath before pushing the button. 

When the door swings open, the loud chatter of the inside makes it clear that this was not the small gathering you were expecting. The apartment is packed with people, many of whom you don’t recognize. 

“Hey! You made it!” 

“Welcome to my place!” 

Hinata and Bokuto, with one arm around each other, greet you loudly at the door. 

You awkwardly push your gift of red bean mochi in front of you. “I’m so sorry… I thought it was going to be a small thing, so I only brought a pack of 12.” 

Bokuto laughs heartily, plucking the gift from your hands. “This is great! Akaashi loves red bean mochi, so thanks! We’ll just keep it to our close friends instead of sharing it with the entire party,” he winks at you. 

Hinata grabs your arm and ushers you to the kitchen area, which is slightly less packed than the living room and balcony. “Are you drinking tonight?” 

“Yep, I’ll have something.” 

He produces a can of beer and pops the tab for you. 

“Lemme introduce you to some of the people here. You already know the usual Karasuno alum. You met most of my current BJ teammates last time. Oh, yeah,” he interrupts himself. “What happened to you last time by the way? We were all at the bar and then I don’t really remember seeing you go home at some point.” 

Not seeing any particular reason to keep it a secret, you tell him about going home with his setter. 

“Ah.” Hinata says. 

“What?” you ask warily. “Maybe… has Atsumu asked about me?”

Hinata shakes his head. “No, not really?” 

You scowl. “Then why’d you say ‘ah’ like that?” 

“Did I? My bad!” 

You roll your eyes, having momentarily forgotten that your friend hardly thinks about much else other than volleyball. 

He introduces you to some other people, mostly other volleyball players before dropping you off at the kitchen since you said you needed another drink. 

“You sure you’re going to be alright on your own?” 

You try to smile reassuringly. “I’ll be fine. Go have fun.” 

He leaves, so you busy yourself rummaging through the fridge for another drink. When you find nothing of interest, you look around the room, eyeing what people have in their drinks. The longer you spend looking around without a drink in your hand and in your own company in the crowded room, the more you feel out of place. With that, you grab the first unopened drink on the counter and snake your way through the crowd in search of a familiar face. 

And it just so happens that the first familiar face you find is Atsumu. 

“Hey, stranger,” he says easily to you. 

“I’m not the one who’s a stranger,” you blurt out the first quippy line you could think of. 

His eyes widen. “What-” 

“It’s just a joke.” you cut him off. “I didn’t mean it in any special way.” 

He doesn’t buy it, expression sobering up quickly. “Didn’t sound like a joke to me.” 

You scramble for words, your social anxiety not helping. “I really just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. You know I get really nervous at these group things…” 

He stares at you. A couple of seconds go by and you contemplate just turning around and walking away to mourn your social ineptitude somewhere private. But Atsumu breaks out in a small smile. 

“You were pretty nervous at that time, huh?” 

“Exactly!” you eagerly add on. “Atsumu, I really didn’t mean anything by it.” 

“I believe you. But…” 

You stiffen. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you meant it in a special way. I hear I’m pretty unforgettable.” 

You punch him in the arm. 

He laughs good-naturedly and offers a crooked arm. “Another drink?” 

You look down to see your bottle empty. You take his arm and let him lead you to another drink which turns into four. 

Atsumu’s presence is massive and it makes meeting new people easier. He introduces you (as Hinata’s childhood friend, of course) to new people, resting a heavy arm over your shoulder as he gets more drinks in his system. 

The gesture doesn’t alarm you. After all, men who are interested in someone would put an arm around your waist, right? Friends do shoulders, just like how Hintata and Bokuto had greeted you at the door. 

But just like last time, he melts your worries away and before long, the two of you are giggling into each others lips and sneaking out to go do something other than talk. 

–

And it happens again, and again, and again. Before you know it, every single dinner, afterparty, night out becomes an opportunity for the two of you to get together. You always somehow find yourselves all alone where you always talk for hours and enjoy each others’ company too much, and fail to resist the temptation of falling into bed together. And each morning, you wake up, act like lovers until breakfast, before parting ways to radio silence until the next time. 

Your mutual count of offenses gets into the double digits before you really realize you’re in hot water. 

–

The next time it happens, it’s when Hinata invites you to watch an official game. You show up wearing a plain black top to show your support for the Jackals. As you settle into the seats Hinata offers up to you and some ex-teammates, he spots your group and gives you his usual sunny smile. 

The rest of his team notices you and now that you’ve met them a couple of times, a natural smile comes easier when you meet each of their eyes. When your gaze finally falls upon Atsumu, he gives you a silly grin, not unlike the one you’re getting used to seeing over breakfast, and holds his fingers up in a corny heart. You roll your eyes playfully and he clutches his heart dramatically in response. 

A giggle escapes your lips, keeping a ghost of a smile on your lips until Tsukishima, who decided to join you to watch the game, catches you with one eyebrow raised. 

“What?” you ask defensively. 

“Nothing.” 

From there, you make sure to keep your expressions reigned in. Sure, your eyes may follow him a bit more than any other player, but that’s not something to read into. He’s the setter, after all. They touch the ball the most so it only makes sense that anyone watching the game would watch him the most. 

The Jackals end up losing in the close third set. You meet the players outside afterwards to tell them it was a great game and when the group emerges, it’s sans the setter. Mustering up a reassuring smile, you give each one of them a hug before sneaking away back to the gym to check up on the one you’re most concerned about. 

After your first hookup with Atsumu, he had told you that volleyball was the reason he couldn’t be in a committed relationship at the moment. To anyone, that would have sounded like an excuse. But after getting to know him more, you could tell he really meant it. So it’s not a surprise to you when you find him still on the court, practicing serves even when his eyes are rimmed red. 

“Atsumu,” you call out. 

He jumps and slams another serve, as if he hadn’t heard you. 

“Atsumu,” you say a bit louder. 

You step closer and closer, taking tentative steps until you’re right behind him. As he picks up another ball, you put your hand on his arm to stop him. 

“Atsumu,” you say softly. 

He doesn’t shake you off so you take the chance to pry the ball out of his hand, letting it bounce to the ground as you circle around to face him. His eyes stayed glued to the floor, fists clenched. You bring your fingers to his, lightly uncurling them from where they make angry crescent imprints in his palm. When his hands relent, you let them fall limply back to his side before pulling him in for a hug. It only takes one second of hesitation before he returns the embrace fiercely, crushing you against him. You swear you can feel a dampness on your shoulder that isn’t sweat. 

“You need to rest,’ you whisper. 

He nods, letting you guide him home, where something in him seems to snap. His hands and lips are all over you even in the hallway of his buildings and it leaves you with barely enough sanity to dig  his keys out of his gym bag to unlock the door before he takes you against the door, on his couch, and one last time in bed. Maybe you imagined the “thank you” he whispers to you before you pass out cold. 

It’s sometime in the middle of the night when you come to, somewhere between awake and asleep. You stir to the sensation of Atsumu’s fingers brushing against the crown of your head. 

“Hey sleepy,” you hear him murmur. 

You hear yourself make some incoherent noise, curling your body closer into the warmth of his body. 

“You awake?” 

“No.” 

He chuckles. “Up for another round?” 

“‘Tsumu… I’m tired.” 

“I like you calling me that.” 

You open one eye. “‘Tsumu?” 

“Yeah,” he says before leaning down and kissing you. It’s not a close lipped, innocent kiss that he often gives you the morning after. It’s languid but still urgent. You can feel your reservations slipping away. He slips a warm palm under your shirt and as he ghosts over your stomach, ribcage, then higher. 

There’s something intensely intimate about the way he touches you tonight: his forehead pressed to yours, vocal in the way he insists that you keep your eyes open. That intimacy fills your insides with something warm, and at the same time, dangerously hot. It trips some sort of alarm in your mind, but all your reservations fly out the window as he starts to move. You can’t think. 

Definitely not when he keeps kissing you up until the moment you fall asleep and you fade away to the feeling of his lips pressed to yours. 

–

For one of the first times ever, you wake up dreading the morning-after routine with Atsumu. Because this one feels different. The way he says good morning with a lazy smile, the way he strokes your forehead, the way he stares when you stretch, the way he carries you like a princess to the bathroom. 

By the time it’s time for you to make your exit, you’re convinced he feels it too. His stares linger too long, too hot to be casual. He says goodbye with a longing that is hard for even you, in all your inexperience, to ignore. 

And you have to know. 

You turn back right as you’re leaving. “Atsumu.” 

“What happened to ‘Tsumu?” he teases. 

“Can I come watch your next game?” 

“Hm? ‘Course you can. Shoyo-kun usually gets you tickets right?” 

You test the waters: something subtle but gets the message across. 

“Would it be okay if I wore your jersey?” 

His laughing stops abruptly. 

If he laughs it off and makes a joke about you joining his army of fans, you’d take the hint. This would still be casual and you’d need to re-rectify your barriers. But if by chance… 

He looks at you for a long, excruciating moment, before offering a small, shuttered smile. 

You tense up. It’s not the answer you wanted, but you always knew there was a chance this would happen anyway. You’re just grateful you waited until it was time to leave before bringing it up. 

“No… I don’t think you should.” 

That takes you by surprise. 

“I mean, I don’t want our friends to think that-” 

“That what?” you bite back with a bit more aggression that you wanted. 

Atsumu stands up straight from where he was leaning lazily in the doorway. A quiet, but stern calling of your name snaps you out of whatever reverie you’ve been in for the past couple of months. “I thought we both agreed that this was a casual thing. It goes without saying that I don’t want our friends to think we’re together. That would only complicate things.” 

Complicate? You want to scoff. As if being the outlet for his frustration last night wasn’t complicating things already. As if every kiss and touch from just a couple hours ago wasn’t complicating everything. 

But, you take a breath, composing yourself. 

“Right, sorry. I just wanted to… let you know I’m here for you. Like last night.” you bite out. 

He winces slightly. 

“See you around, Atsumu.” 

He doesn’t stop you when you walk off. In fact, everything remains the same. No texts, no calls, no messages.