Haikyuu imagines

7 minutes in heaven- Atsumu

Atsumu has been in your house since you were both teenagers - loud, dramatic, always eating your snacks and pretending he wasn't flirting with you.

Your sister always rolled her eyes. "He flirts with everyone," she'd say.

So you never took it seriously.

Not even when he lingered a little too long in the kitchen. Not even when he said your name so softly it didn't sound like a joke. Not even when he started showing up even when your sister wasn't home.

Tonight, you're all at a college house party - your sister, her friends, Atsumu... and you, dragged along.

The game starts because someone is bored and wants drama.

Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Atsumu smirks. "Ya scared, princess?" he teases.

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flips.

The bottle spins. Slows. Clicks.

Points directly at you.

You swallow.

Then someone spins the second bottle.

It lands on-

Atsumu.

The entire room SCREAMS.

Your sister's jaw drops. Atsumu raises his brows like he's trying not to preen.

"Well," he drawls, "looks like luck's in my favor tonight."

Your face heats.

Your sister threatens him, her friends cheer, someone shoves you both toward the closet.

Atsumu leans toward your ear as he opens the door.

"Don't worry," he murmurs. "I'll behave. Mostly."

The door shuts.

Dark. Warm. Too small.

Atsumu presses his back against the wall, hands up like he's surrendering.

"Promise I ain't gonna pounce on ya," he says with a smirk. "Unless ya ask nicely."

You scoff. "Can you go one minute without flirting?"

His smile falters. Just a little.

"...With you?" he mutters. "No. Probably not."

His honesty catches you off guard.

The playful grin drops into something softer - something that makes your stomach twist.

You stare at him, arms crossed. "You flirt with everyone."

"No." His voice is quiet, steady.

He steps closer.

"Everyone thinks I do. But it's just you."

Your breath catches.

"Why?" you whisper.

He laughs once - nervous, unlike him. "Yer sister would kill me for sayin' this, but-"

He steps even closer, your back gently touching the opposite wall.

"-I've liked ya for a long time."

Your chest tightens.

"Then why act like it's a joke?" you ask, voice small.

Atsumu lifts a hand - stops before touching you.

"'Cause I didn't wanna scare ya off." His voice goes low. "Didn't wanna ruin things. Didn't wanna be a problem."

You swallow.

He finally meets your eyes.

"But bein' in here with ya?" He smiles - soft, nervous, real. "Kinda makes me wanna stop holdin' back."

He leans in.

Slow.

Giving you time to pull away.

You don't.

When his lips brush yours, it's barely a kiss - just a breath shared, a question asked.

You whisper, "Atsumu..."

He tenses.

And you close the distance.

The kiss is warm, slow at first - then deeper when he cups your cheek, thumb brushing your skin like he's memorizing it.

You fist your hands in his shirt. He groans softly against your mouth.

When you break apart, he rests his forehead on yours and whispers, breathless:

"Yer killin' me."

You laugh quietly.

"You're the one who kissed me."

"And I'll do it again."

He does.

Your sister's scream is loud enough to break glass.

Atsumu doesn't even jump - he just grins, wiping his mouth with his thumb.

"Don't be mad," he tells her. "It was mutual."

You shove him. "You are NOT helping."

But his hand finds yours instinctively.

Your sister stares at your joined hands. Her jaw drops lower.

"I'm gonna murder him," she says.

Atsumu leans down and whispers in your ear, smug:

"Totally worth it."

You can't help smiling.