pregnancy cravings with miya atsumu.
Pregnancy cravings never really made sense to Atsumu. Then again, he never got to the part of anatomy and physiology when he was studying physical therapy before he decided to go pro as a volleyball player.
But that doesn’t mean he isn’t supportive; no, he prided himself on being a great husband. And now, with you, his wife, pregnant with your first child, he was determined to be the most supportive, loving, and accommodating partner ever.
Nothing was going to stand in his way—not distance, not logic, and certainly not impossible cravings.
It started simple. Like it always did.
You wanted a specific pastry from a bakery on the other side of Japan? Done. He booked the fastest delivery service he could find, and when that wasn’t an option, he flew there himself, picked it up, and brought it back.
Talk about rich.
Homemade food? Good thing Osamu had drilled the basics of cooking into him, though he still got yelled at by his twin when he accidentally burned rice. But hey, effort counted, right?
Then, the cravings started getting weird.
You’re sitting on the couch with a blanket over your lap when you look up at him with serious eyes. “I want Osamu’s cooking.”
Atsumu blinked. “Alright, I can ask him—”
“But I don’t want to eat it. You eat it.”
He frowned, confused.
“Huh? Ya want me to eat ‘Samu’s cookin’?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
Atsumu scratched his head, wondering if this was some kind of test. “And that’s gonna make ya feel better?”
“Yes.”
“… Even if ya don’ eat it?”
“Uh-huh.”
Atsumu blinked. “That doesn’t make no sense.”
“Atsumu, please don’t question me.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” He grabbed his phone and immediately dialed Osamu. “Oi, ‘Samu, I need ya to cook somethin’—no, not for [Name]—for me.” There was silence on the other end before Osamu sighed heavily and reluctantly agreed.
That night, Atsumu sat at the dining table, stuffing his face with his brother’s food while you sat across from him, smiling in satisfaction as you watched. Osamu just did his part as a supportive brother for his twin.
The next day was even worse.
“A seedless mango,” you murmured, rubbing your belly.
...
“A what?”
“A seedless mango. I want it.”
“… [Name], sweetheart, baby, I love ya, but that don’t exist.”
“It does.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I want it.”
Atsumu groaned. “Where am I gonna get a seedless mango?”
“Figure it out, please?”
He spent hours searching online, calling fruit vendors, and even asking Osamu if his suppliers had some secret black market seedless mango (Osamu asked him if a volleyball that was going 120 km/h hit his head).
No luck.
In the end, Atsumu cut up a normal mango, carefully removed every trace of the seed, and handed it to you with a hopeful grin.
You took one look at it and frowned.
“It’s not the same.”
Atsumu wanted to cry.
-
“I need you to wear a face mask.”
Atsumu blinked at you from your bed. “Huh? Why?”
You huffed quietly, fidgeting with the sheets. “Because your face is annoying.”
Atsumu gasped, hand clutching his chest. “My face?! The one ya love so much?!”
“Yes.”
“The one ya vowed to look at forever in sickness and in health?!”
“Yes.”
“The one ya called ‘beautiful’ when I asked ya if I was hotter than ‘Samu?!”
“I love you, but right now, your face is irritating me.”
Atsumu stared, utterly betrayed, before sighing in defeat. He got up, went to the closet, grabbed one of the disposable masks he’d bought during flu season, and put it on.
“There. Happy now?”
You smiled sweetly. “Very.”
Atsumu flopped onto the bed with a groan, pulling the blanket over himself. As he lay there, sulking, you scooted closer and rested your head on his chest.
“I love you, you know that?” you murmured.
He grumbled. “Ya sure? Feels like ya hate me sometimes.”
You chuckled. “No, I love you. My hormones just don’t.”
He sighed. “Yer so lucky I love ya more than life.”
“I know. Pregnancy is so weird.”
And the worst has yet to come.
-
Atsumu should be asleep by now, but no, he had to be individually popping popcorn. One kernel at a time, as per your request.
He initially told you, “Yer kiddin’.”
You were not.
And that was how Atsumu found himself in the kitchen at three in the morning, painstakingly popping one kernel at a time in a tiny pan. Every time he accidentally popped more than one, you, who were sitting on a stool with your hands on your belly, would click your tongue disapprovingly.
“You put in two, Atsumu.”
“This is torture,” he grumbled, but he kept going.
-
“I want ice cream,” you said.
Atsumu perked up. “Oh, easy. What flavor?”
“I don’t know.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Uh… okay. I can get a few different kinds?”
“I need to taste them all.”
Atsumu frowned. “Like… all the flavors?”
“Yes.”
“… Babe, there are like fifty flavors at the ice cream shop.”
You nodded. “And I need to taste all of them before I decide which one I want.”
Atsumu let out a long, suffering sigh, but being the devoted husband he was, he marched straight to the ice cream parlor and ordered a ridiculous amount of sample cups. The poor employee stared at him in disbelief.
“You… want every flavor?”
“Yeah.”
“Every single one?”
“Yeah.”
“Sir, that’s—”
“My wife is pregnant, and if I don’t do this, I might not make it to the end of the week.”
The employee, upon hearing this, immediately started getting to work.
When Atsumu got home, you took one spoonful of each, nodded, and, after going through every single cup, announced:
“I don’t want ice cream anymore.”
Atsumu fell to his knees. Defeated.
-
“I need you to stand in the corner for a while.”
Atsumu looked up from his phone, confused. “Huh?”
“The corner. Stand there.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like you should.”
Atsumu squinted. “Babe, are ya makin’ me into a damn decoration?”
You nodded. “Yes.”
Atsumu sighed but did it anyway. He stood in the corner of your living room for a full ten minutes while you sat on the couch, happily watching TV. At some point, Osamu FaceTimed him, took one look at the scene, and hung up.
-
The next day, you called him while he was at practice, which was rare in itself because you did just leave messages whenever you knew he was practicing.
“Babe,” you said in a tone that made his stomach drop.
“… Yeah?”
“I need you to bring me a cheeseburger.”
He let out a relieved laugh, wiping the sweat off his brow. “That’s easy! I’ll grab ya one on my way ho—“
“But replace the buns with pancakes.”
Atsumu froze. “Come again?”
“You heard me.”
“I dunno if I did, sweetheart.”
“Pancakes. Instead of buns. Oh, and I want honey to go with it.”
Atsumu nearly dropped his phone.
“Yer messin’ with me.”
“I’m really not.”
And you weren’t. That evening, he stood in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with the precision of a professional chef before assembling the most unholy creation he’d ever laid eyes on—a cheeseburger with pancake buns, honey drizzled over the meat.
You took a bite and hummed softly. “Oh my god, this is better than sex.”
Atsumu, who had spent hours perfecting his technique in the bedroom, felt personally offended by that.
-
“Atsumu,” you murmur. “I need you to switch sides of the bed with me.”
He sighed. “No.”
“Atsumu.”
“[Name], baby, darlin’—I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because my side is closer to the door in case of an intruder.”
You chuckled quietly. “Tsumu, please. I need to sleep on that side.”
Atsumu stared at you, conflicted. He had never—not once—slept on the other side. It was unnatural. Wrong. It went against the very foundations of your marriage.
But you were looking at him with those tired, hormonal, pleading eyes. And he was sure you’d tell him you could barely see your feet now and often experience heartburn, all because of his unborn baby.
With a heavy sigh, Atsumu switched sides with you.
“You’re a good husband,” you whispered, patting his cheek.
Atsumu, lying in the unfamiliar position, staring at the wrong wall, whispered, “I’m a broken man.”
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confession. i make extra blogs with usernames that i think r cool just incase i ever want to change my user 😇😇
WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME FLOWERS? 。。。
↳ 「 itoshi sae 」 ␥ 糸師 冴.ᐟ
you’ve been receiving flowers from your neighbour, sae, for 2 months and you finally decided to confront him
first smau in months </3 i Hope this was okay idk
@kameyyy :3
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🪴⠀⠀정국⠀⠀﹢⠀⠀태형⠀⠀⵰⠀⠀♥︎ீ
Miya Twins!
(post time skip-ish, hair is down cuz wet! HC says Osamu and Atsumu still occasionally play together with friends and Tsumu mocks Samu for his rusty skills constantly)
AWWW OMGG WHQT THE FREAK I LOVE
girl dads ♡ ft. atsumu miya
a/n: got a request for this and been thinking of haikyuu men as girl dads too... definitely going to do the MSBY-4 because i feel like they would all be amazing girl dads. for now, here's the atsumu version!
wc: 507
girldad!atsumu who bought you one of those huge post-birth sushi platters because "ya worked so hard babe... it's the least i can do!"
girldad!atsumu who made sure you got the absolute best treatment once you were back at home... kept you fed, well-rested, wouldn't let you get up for anything minor.
"tsumuuuu, i can make myself some light food!"
"nuh-uh. no stress for the mama. what am i here for then?"
girldad!atsumu who unironically calls over the entirety of msby-4 to look after your precious girls. not one, but four beefy men looking after them. if atsumu was bossy before, he's even bossier now..
"shoyo! i told ya, it's not how y'do that! c'mere, i'll show you again." whenever hinata tucked the girls different from how atsumu does it.
bonus: sakusa doesn't sit around either. he might hate germs and all things slimy and dirty, but you know that man's in the kitchen with osamu planning an adequate meal schedule for you so that you get all the nutrients you need (atsumu's very strict about this too lol)
"ya sure she can have this? looks weird to me."
"she'll be fine, 'tsumu." osamu retorts. "it ain't like 'm feeding her pufferfish!"
girldad!atsumu who, once your sweet little daughters are older, will at any possible moment play princess or tea party with them. hey, he might not be home often, but girl dad atsumu loves the tea party gossip with his girls! he can't miss out on that.
"no way baby... and ms. teddy said that to ya?" atsumu gasps dramatically.
on a similar note, girldad!atsumu who is immediately covered in glitter and pink eyeshadow as soon as he's back home from a tournament. "s'alright. they're making me even more beautiful than usual!" which earns a light, playful smack from one of your daughters, "no talking, papa!!!"
girldad!atsumu who's a professional athlete, so of course you guys get front row seats at all of his tournaments. of course he made sure the girls got tailored msby jerseys with his surname on the back! the commentators always make sure to note this.
girldad!atsumu who's not overprotective, but definitely protective of his cute little family. makes sure that whenever he can't be there to help you, osamu is.
"'samu. did y'get the groceries?"
"yeeeees 'tsumu. told ya like five times... i ain't here to do yer biddin'!" he's only joking though, because he cares for you just as much.
girldad!atsumu who is super serious about your daughters' choice of men when they're older. not in a bad way! just... in a dad way. the typical hand shaking. the interrogative questioning. 8PM curfews justified with, "they're my little girls! they're too young!!" after you scold him for nearly scaring the boys off.
girldad!atsumu who would cry at your girls' weddings. full on snotty SOBBING. loud about it too. he just loves them so much, can't believe they grew up so fast.
girldad!atsumu who would give your daughters the world and beyond.
a/n: I HOPPPPEEEE this is what anon was looking for!! and also i hope the grammar's fine cuz i did not proofread it lollllsss...
“my daughter is completely fine!”
ma’am your daughter has to read fanfics about fictional characters just to maintain a healthy mental state
doesnt my job understand i have a blooming fanfiction writing career to work on
i love nagi bc he looks so tiny and cute in some of these screenshots.. and then u realize he's 6'3"
ty for the tag cid!
anyone can join!!
was tagged in two wonderful tag games by @jeonwiixard. ty for the tags, jazz!
read your colour
which little plushie are you?
tagging @mahowaga, @admiringlove, @garten-of-eden & anyone else who wants to do this!