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ONE SHOT IS TITLED:pumpkin and popsicle goo
SUMMARY: inarizaki volleyball team's fan club decided to raise funds by carving the team's faces in the pumpkin for halloween. it just so happens that today, the team decided to watch over as the girls work.
unfortunately, a girl dashes out with tears in her eyes.
osamu trips and meets you.
—
Osamu Miya might just be the prettiest boy you've ever seen. Prettier than Timothée Chalamet.
So when you were tasked to carve his face on a freaking pumpkin by the Inarizaki Volleyball Club's doting fanclub, you wanted to scream and shrivel up in frustration because how the hell were you supposed to carve Miya Osamu's pretty, delicate features on a flat pumpkin? You were afraid that it wont ever bring justice especially using pumpkins as a medium.
Sure it would be fitting for a Halloween event promoting the Volleyball team but still... what the fuck?
(and there's also the issue of Miya Atsumu. You were half afraid he'd cackle and make fun of your Osamu pumpkin).
You say that in absolute confidence because said twin brother is going ballistic over the sight of a poorly carved face of–was that Ojiro–
The girl falls apart under Atsumu's critique, lashes wet with tears as she dashes out of the room, shrieking, "That's Kita-senpai, you meanie!"
The room turns eerie quiet after that. The girls who were busy carving their respective pumpkins are now wary of Atsumu, cradling the orange sphere close to their chests afraid that they too, would be subject to his attention.
Atsumu visibly flinches and makes himself scarce after an intense scolding from the captain. The apology was short, quiet and to be frank, quite adorable. It's not everyday you get to see the almighty Miya Atsumu be pegged down a notch by a teammate.
The girls go back to their worktables. What once was a vibrant atmosphere of loving fans who just wanted to show support by creating art was now extinguished by a silent hum. The team is reluctant to get a peek or two, not wanting to make a repeat of Atsumu's insensitive actions.
However, the others are quick to warm up to Kita. He's strolling around the tables like an art teacher, occasionally throwing a few suggestions here and there to improve the output. His actions prompts the others to follow in his lead, silently peering over the girls' shoulders and nodding in approval.
Despite the glaring differences between the Miya Twin's, they are, after all, still cut from the same cloth. So when Osamu walks over to your station, munching on a popsicle stick, he almost chokes at the sight of his face–the pumpkin you're working on.
(But really, you didn't see the full thing. Atsumu, being the little shit he was, tripped him up. Thankfully, he had really fast reflexes, or else he wouldn't have ended on just choking on his popsicle but face flat on the floor and probably unconscious too).
You know you're not at all gifted with sculpting, or anything art-sy really. You failed art class and had rather received a harsh scolding from your desensitized teacher screaming at you outside the halls.
"I didn't want any part in this," You tell Osamu, who's crying from laughter, his lips curled at the edges (But really, he just choked. On his popsicle). Tears spring from your eyes, lips wobbling in extreme effort not to bawl in front of the whole team and the club. But you've never been good at holding yourself back and you're not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this, utterly defeated by your lack of talent–which your asshole of a teacher made sure to remind you at every turn–so you turn around, back to his front, clenching your apron in your arms.
Fuck, you're so embarassed. You're crying like a baby in front of (rather, behind) your crush. He'll know you for sure as a crybaby. And as the girl who fucked up his pumpkin face.
You don't hear shuffling footsteps behind you, or the warmth seeping through your shirt–too engrossed to register Osamu's hands on your shoulder, turning you to face him. He begrudgingly looks at his brother for help, but Atsumu's already shrugging, content on watching him panic to comfort the girl to the best of his abilities.
"'Tis is yer fault, 'ya scrub!" He mouths.
Atsumu gives him the finger.
The younger of the two sighs quietly. The club is still busy repairing their work so there's no one else around to peek at the sight of you dwarfed by Osamu's towering height aside from the amused Atsumu smirking at the corner of the room.
"Hey." Osamu bites his lip, a heavy blush adorning his cheeks as he swipes a tear under your eye. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, I just–"
"I know it's ugly."
"I tripped."
That's such a shitty excuse, he groans inwardly. Osamu knows you'll never buy it, but it's really the truth.
You stare and stare at him and almost got lost in his pretty eyes. "Bullshit." You spit out, "Stop sugarcoating your words–"
Osamu coughs and spits out a chunk of melted pink goo in his palm. You say nothing as he lifts it to your eyes and with a shy smile, "I choked. See?"
You try to keep your disgust from showing on your face, but it still reveals itself. Osamu startles and in his haste scrubs it off on his shirt. Your face contorts in a grimace, representing his nastiness.
"I–I..."
He closes his eyes in embarrassment, muttering a low, "Fuck." As he resigns his fate to your judgement. Much to his surprise though, he feels something wet and ticklish across his palm. Osamu's eyes snap open and he sees your smile as you gently rub the sticky substance off his hand.
And gosh did you look so pretty smiling at him like that.
—
NOTE: this one shot is dedicated to the other half of my other half, MIYA OSAMUUUUUU!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY <3333333
omfg i had such a blast writing this ajaduiahduiawa!!!! i do hope you guy love this as much as i did!!
