#kinda likin when it comes from a pretty thing like yerself

[oh-miya]

Goodnight daddy handsome(:

- @twislajade

Goodnight pretty girl (: sleep well for me, ‘kay?

[tsumusamu]

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

-

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

-

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