#haikyuu x y/n

[moechies]

wakatoshi ʚɞ

“y’feel so good honey.”

your cunt sinks onto his meaty tip, pulsing erratically at the unfamiliar stretch.

“hah—.. h-help me, please!”

“take your time, you can do it.”

you try, you really do, shoving yourself onto your lovers cock. he holds you tightly but the fat of your hips, gently guiding your cunt to wrap more and more of him.

“eek— w-waka!”

he sighs, face flushed and eyes shut tight from the pleasure. he lays back into the soft of the bed, peeking out of one eye to watch your flustered expression and your body shiver with pleasure.

“please , n-need your help. i can’t do it m’self..” you mewl, body giving up and landing atop of his, sniffles muffled as you hide yourself into the crook of his neck.

“poor baby.” he teases, soothing over your hair with one hand, the other soothing across your shivering ass. “too much for my honey?”

you nod, bracing yourself as he flips you under him, forced to meet his eyes as he hovers above you.

“y’were almost there,” he stares down at the remainder of his cock you were unable to get inside your cunt, sloppy swipes over your clit in order to quiet his baby’s complaints. “y’gonna do better next time? so i don’t have to do all the work, hm ?”

“y-yes..! t-thank you waka, thank you f’helping me!”

he groans; what sweet pleasure it was to feel your plump ass meet his pelvis.

“no need. thank you f’this perfect pussy honey.”

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

❧ fireworks masterpost

❧ Summary: Atsumu had given up on the prospect of finding his soulmate years ago. He just wasn’t lucky like his friends, or so he thought. Because after an accidental meeting with a local painter, the volleyball player found himself entranced by someone who wants nothing to do with him.

❧ the soulmate principle: “The Soulmate Principle is the idea of two people being destined for each other at birth. These people are called soulmates. Soulmates will often instantly ‘recognize’ or be drawn to one another, even if they have never met. A soulmate couple are regarded as being ‘perfect’ for each other in every way. Usually, the soulmates provide each other with understanding, healing and strength. Soulmates are connected by a phenomena called the “silver cord,” or soulmate bond, which remains unbroken until death. It can be felt by a shock or a jolt of electricity when bare skin touches bare skin. Soulmates can also share emotions with each other through the bond.”

❧ warnings: verbal abuse, toxic af father, reader is exhibiting signs of mental illness, suicidal thoughts (nothing explicit), suggestions of suicide, mentions of physical illness, attending the hospital, mentions of cancer, mentions of injury. 

❧ story format: written.

❧ word count: 3.2k

❧ part: three out of three | read part one here | read part two here | 

❧ A/N: holy shit 500000 years later and it’s here! :( Sorry for the wait. also this is kinda dark!!?!?!? so be warned.

It took a single glance in your soulmate’s direction to plant an entire garden inside of your chest. It took a single conversation to turn those seeds into perfect little sprouts. Hope had begun to nestle into your lungs, making it easier to process the air and to breathe. It should have remained that way. Perhaps an intelligent individual would have taken the blessing and returned home. Perhaps they would have decided to call their soulmate rather than knock upon the door leading to a troubled past. 

If only you were intelligent, or wise, or anything along those lines. Because it appeared you had forgotten that his words have always been far more lethal than poison. And it is exactly his words that set ablaze the garden of newly sprouted flowers, leaving behind ashes and the same emptiness you were so damn accustomed to. 

How strange that the person who was meant to protect you from harm, was the one always inflicting it. 

“Father?” 

When you first entered the family home, your heart twinged uncomfortably at the memories suddenly attacking your serene mind. Nostalgia for some was a pleasant experience. But for you, being in the place where you grew up was merely exhausting. You should have taken the sensation as a warning sign - to abort mission and to leave before anything else could transpire. Yet, you continued along the hallway leading towards the living room, with your heart beating loudly inside of your ears. 

The male sinking into the couch was barely conscious, and accordingly, did not hear your gentle beckoning. When your eyes finally landed on the familiar figure, the little voice in your head reminded you that this was your last opportunity to run... to leave.... to escape.  The monster sitting in the heart of the home was not aware of your presence yet - you could easily slip out and pretend this never happened. 

But for some masochistic reason, you were compelled to remain. Was it foolishness or bravery? Perhaps a sprinkle of both. Or perhaps it was something even far more sinister - hope. No matter what happened, you always craved your father’s love. You craved the affection that should have been granted to you the second you were born. Before, you had assumed that your father loathed you due to your rotten core. Your soul was merely impure, you had nothing to offer the world other than hardship. 

But now... What if the soulmate connection was responsible for your father’s cruelty? What if your mother’s passing had impacted him in a way that could not be explained in a medical sense? What if he was the victim of something far beyond your understanding? 

Or maybe, he was simply a man unfit to be a father. 

The final thought is one that scares you the most. And yet, you swallow down the clog in your throat and venture two steps closer to the man who was responsible for the scars decorating your body. 

“Father? Are you awake?” 

Silence greets you instead of your father for the first minute. But then, the man ahead stirred, indicating that you would soon be granted an audience.  

“Lila...?” 

The mention of your mother’s name paralyzes you for a moment, as you blink widely at your father, awaiting a new form of recognition. A few seconds drag on by as the male drags a palm down his face, in an attempt to sober himself up. His dark eyes are still in a squint when his hand returns to his side, but from the fury flickering to life in his irises, it was clear he now knew who you were. 

“No, of course not. She’s fucking dead.” 

Unsure how exactly to react, tension was applied to your jaw. Under your father’s scrutiny, your chest constricted, with a familiar pain claiming the surface area. 

Why did you come here? Why did you think this time it would be any different? Hope? Someone like you was never allowed to feel that damn emotion. 

Hope was a luxury, one that you momentarily forgot you could not afford. 

“Why are you here?” The older male doesn’t move when he speaks, instead his gaze continues to bore into you. It’s clear that he is no longer in a drowsy state. Everything that would be stated from now would be his sober thoughts.

“I... wanted to talk. If it’s a bad time, I’ll just -” The words barely come out as a whisper as panic seizes your throat. The air in the home began to decrease, with your lungs reacting in tow. 

“Talk? What the hell would we have to talk about?” A humourless laugh rang inside of your father’s chest, drowning out the small noises you were once using to stabilize your breathing. 

Where was the grandfather clock again? Maybe if you could find it - 

“Are you here to steal the little life I have left? Is that it? You’re here to kill me.” The sound of laughter abruptly ends with the older male leaping to his feet. Rage animated his features as his tongue trailed over his chipped bottom lip. It was as though he was calculating his next set of words - determining what selection would send you completely off the edge. 

“What...? No, I -” Liquid began to brew along your waterline, disturbing your vision. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise, as maintaining eye contact with your father was the equivalent of inserting daggers into your own heart. “I just... Why didn’t you tell me about the soulmate link?” 

It was at that moment when you observed your father’s demeanour shift completely. His mouth fell agape yet an unrecognizable emotional sparkled in his eyes. It was an expression you’d expect from a gambler who won the jackpot. Or, an alcoholic who discovered a new bottle of whiskey. 

But why in the world did he look like that right now? 

“Oh, now I get it. You met someone, huh. Twisted how the heaven above gave someone like you a soulmate.” Lightly, he brushed the pads of his fingers along the stubble decorating his jaw. “You know what you have to do right?” The latter part is accompanied by the raise of an eyebrow. 

But none of this is making sense to you. How were you supposed to know what he was referring to when he never discussed this topic? 

“What are you talking about?” Inside of your mind chaos ensues as you recall your conversation with your therapist. Was there something you missed? What could it be? 

Yet nothing could have prepared you for the answer your father provided. 

“You should know. You have to kill yourself.” 

The words were packaged with a smirk which smoothly communicated how pleased your father was with himself. And as your eyes expanded in size at the weight of his words, the devil disguised as a father continued to spew his falsehoods. 

“So long as you are alive, you will torture that poor soul that is connected to you. So do the right thing for once in your life and kill yourself.” 

Apologies begin to spill from your lips on repeat as the oxygen completely leaves your lungs. But it’s too quiet, and your father refuses to be silenced. 

“You know what you are, y/n. You’re a disease. You killed your mother, you almost killed me and now you’re going to kill your soulmate.” 

Your vision fully blurs, but there are slashes that can be seen. Blood is smeared over your hands, it’s staining the floor.

You’re bleeding. Oh god, you’re bleeding. The wounds of the past have been ripped open, and you’re drenched in the blood of those you have killed.

“She was fine you know. FINE. Until she was pregnant with you. Instead of a blossom of joy, there was you - a cancer - sitting in her stomach. You killed her. You killed her and killed me.” 

You were no longer able to withstand the pressure associated with his words. With your knees losing their strength, your body soon collided against the cold floor. The crimson colouring your vision remained with you, though. Even as your fingers grazed the cold tiles below. Everything was stained. You were stained. 

“So, will you kill another person, y/n? Will you?” 

You knew you wouldn’t. 

A heart wrenching pain sliced through Atsumu during the middle of practice, causing the setter to collapse onto the floor. He could vaguely hear his friends call out his name, and the frenzy of sneakers rubbing against the floor. Someone had their hand against his back, but the figure was a blur. Inside of his chest, the thin strings of fate had wrapped around his heart, cutting off the blood flow in the individual arteries.

And although he only had a limited understanding of the soulmate connection, he instantly knew that if he did not find you immediately, the connection would be gone.

You would be gone.

Because despite his strange fragile physical state, he knew that you were feeling something much worse. And all he wanted to do was to comfort you, even though you were not within his grasp.

And as Atsumu fought to remain conscious, his battle against the wreckage in his heart was one that he ultimately lost. And the last thing the blonde could remember was someone mentioning his brother’s name. 

Everyone enters this world alone, and they leave this world alone. That is the infamous quote that is often weaponized by religious figures in order to drive fear into the hearts of believers. But the quote fails to account for the time spent on this earth. Was it meant to be so tragically lonely? What is the purpose of life, if you are plagued by loneliness from birth until death? 

The question weighed heavily on you as you returned home. And the weight of the question appeared to increase with every passing hour. To be honest, you would have remained stuck in place on the tilted flooring if your father had not forcefully removed you from the home. He had guests to entertain, but you did not stick around long enough to see anyone approach the front door. 

Perhaps this was total defeat. 

You were done. 

At some point, it becomes far too much to bear. The voices inside your head no longer lose their ferocity; instead they gnaw away at soul until there is nothing left. How can you move past it again? How many times will you push through another heartbreak? How much more were you expected to endure? 

The following 24 hours are far from bearable. Food was barely digestible. Water was barely consumable. Despite your inner will to transfer the weight from your shoulders and onto the canvas, you could not paint. Instead, you found yourself surrounded by damaged brushes, tattered canvases and a collection of paint. And all you could do was sit in the center of the tornado, hoping that your next breath would be your last. 

Because breathing wasn’t worth it, not if it meant hurting him. 

But it seemed that the thin string keeping you from collapsing into eternal darkness had its own plans. And it begins with a phone call from an unrecognizable number and the strange urge to answer it. 

“Hello?” The phone was wedged between your hand and ear loosely as you waited to see who had sought you out. 

“Um, hi. Is this y/n?” The voice was unfamiliar yet it was the tone that had captured your curiosity. Why were they afraid? “This is Osamu Miya. You’re my brother’s soulmate.” 

Electing to remain silent, you waited for the male to continue. It seemed that he was eager to say something. 

“I’m sorry for being so straight forward but my brother is in the hospital. And the doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. I just.... Can you come? I know I’m asking for a lot. But can you?”  

Upon hearing the younger twin’s words, you almost lost control over your phone. 

“Atsumu is in the hospital... Where?” 

The second that Osamu provides you with the knowledge of how to reach your soulmate, you’re already halfway towards the front door. The thoughts that were plaguing you for the last 24 hours had been overcome with the image of Atsumu. If he was the sun above, then you were the moon, who was nothing without the sun. The moon, which needed the sun to shine at all. The idea of anything happening to Atsumu was unbearable, and it made your inner struggle seem like child's play. 

When you arrived at the hospital you recognized the black haired boy from the shop first. Suna approached you instantly; there was also a girl beside him who you did not recognize. He introduced the female as his fiancée, before guiding you to the room Atsumu was assigned. A sympathetic expression was offered to you by the other female, but you were too frazzled to respond to it. 

With each passing second the sound of your heartbeat became louder and louder, it was almost deafening. 

What would you do if something happened to him? 

Was it your fault? What would you do if it was?

“Oh. You must be y/n. Well, he’s awake and being annoying. So go talk with him, please.” Osamu’s voice ripped through your inner torment returning your attention to your surroundings. But it was his close resemblance to his brother that had swayed you for a brief moment. 

A weak nod was given in response as you began to process what was just conveyed to you. Atsumu was being annoying? So he was conscious? How could someone like him be considered annoying, though? 

The answer to some of your questions was bestowed upon you when you entered the hospital room. Inside, the blonde was sat upright with curiosity animating his features. However, the curiosity was short-lived. Instead, a mixture of emotions had the male seconds from jumping out of his bed. If he had not been connected to an IV, he would have ran straight towards you. So, at most, all he could do was straighten his posture. 

“Y/n?! You’re here!? Are you okay?” 

It’s the latter half of his question that brews a fresh round of tears. And when guilt brings a sad pout to form on Atsumu’s lips, it was impossible to contain the liquid hanging on your waterline. 

“You’re asking if I’m okay when you’re the one in the hospital?” 

How could you possibly deserve him? 

“Ah, y/n. C’mere first.” Lifting the hand with the IV tube attached, he motioned you forward before patting the empty spot on his bed. “This is just a formality, they’re keeping me because they don’t know what’s goin’ on. But I know something has been goin’ on with you, right?” 

Even though the monstrous voice inside of your head warns you of getting closer to the setter, your feet carry you closer to your soulmate without hesitation. The warmth and consideration emanating from the male had your mind and body out of sync. 

“You could sense it?” The words were whispered out as you accepted the seat beside him. And now that you were both in close proximity again, you were unable to bring yourself to catch his gaze. Instead, you focused on playing with your fingers. 

“That’s how the bond works, y/n. Whatever you feel, I feel.” Despite your efforts to avoid his gaze, the blonde titled his head, aiming to capture it. “I won’t pry into what happened, okay? But I realized that I can’t just leave you alone to suffer. I need you to know that you’re not alone.” 

When his attempts became futile, in a daring gesture he put his own calloused hands on top of yours. A light blush colour flooded your cheeks, but you made no effort to remove his hands. This time, the soulmate connection did not burn or tingle in a painful manner. 

All you could feel was love. 

“I’m not good for you... You’d be better off if I was gone...” The acidic liquid continued to travel down your cheeks as you bowed your head down, seeking to cover your disheveled state. 

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think I can live in a world that you’re not part of.” Seeing as you did not deny his physical forms of affection, Atsumu elected to take it one step further. Gingerly, he reached out to brush away your tears with his index finger. “I don’t know what happened to you, and it doesn’t matter. Because I’ll show you that life is worth it.” 

When Atsumu began disposing your tears, the flow only increased mercilessly. Soon, his hand was cradling your face, and it was impossible to not lean into his touch. He was just so warm, so so warm. 

“I just want you to be happy.” The words that were choked out between a sob held such sincerity that Atsumu himself had to battle off his own tears. 

“Yah? So if I ask for something selfish, will you agree to it? I promise it’ll make me happy.” For the first time since you had entered the room, he finally secured eye contact with you. Inside of his chest, his heart throbbed at how beautiful you were. How did he get so lucky? 

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” 

“Stay with me. Don’t ever leave my side. You do that for me, I promise you I’ll be happy for the rest of my life.” 

Silence overtook the space around you for a minute. Though the two of you refused to break off any of the physical contact your bodies shared. And through the soulmate bond, the setter sought to silently communicate how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you. 

“Atsumu...” Completely overwhelmed by a storm of emotions, all you could do was breath out his name. So much had happened in a small period of time - what was the right choice? Honestly, you did not know. 

“And I think I can make you happy too. Even if that sounds a bit cocky. I just, really think I can do it.” The blonde packaged his words with a reassuring smile, one that aided you in making your decision. Although, you still had to ask... 

“What if you regret this?” 

“I won’t. Not now. Not ever.” The answer comes without missing a beat, he was prompt in shutting down any of your outstanding concerns. He could see that the barriers you had built were slowly crumbling. And it only takes another 42 seconds before you provided him with the confirmation he was desperate for. 

“Okay. I’ll do it.” 

The words had barely left your mouth when Atsumu enveloped you into his embrace. The same hand that was caressing your cheek was now smoothing your hair as he clutched you closely. It was a form of affection you had never received. Yet all you could hope was to remain in his grasp forever. 

“I’ll be honest, y/n. Even if you regret this decision, I won’t back off without a fight. I’ll be the most annoying cockroach you’ve ever seen.” 

Not quite understanding his warning, you blinked in short intervals, earning you a heartfelt laugh from the setter. The level of adoration he held for you was bottomless, and you could see yourself happily drowning in it. 

The most important thing was, Atsumu didn’t want you to die for him. He wanted you to live for him. 

And that made all the difference. 

[emmyrosee]

Hi I love your stories!! You're also one of the reasons I started to write haikyuu fics again😆

If you may, can I request a fluff of husband!sachiro hirugami ? Idk how it goes tho but I just know being married to him is a cozy life😌

LIL OL ME??? IM SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO INSPIRE YOU TO START WRITING FOR OUR BOYS AGAIN ☹️🩷🩷

—

The warm towel folds evenly over the bend of your arm, meeting the other end before you place it on the bed. Your next article is a pair of pants, which you fold just as simply as the towel. Laundry day definitely isn’t your favorite day, but it’s a day you and sachiro can spend together afterwards, and that’s really all the motivation you need.

The devil himself comes into your bedroom with a song playing from the phone in his pocket and a smile on his face. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey you,” you hum, folding the pants to toss your arms around his neck, curling close to his chest as his hands settle on your lower back. “You finished putting away the dishes?”

“I did- thought I’d come out and bug you now,” he snickers, and you offer him a soft ‘ahh’ in reply. “You know what else?”

“What?”

“It’s our song.”

It’s true. The song playing on his phone is one you two associated your love with, one warm and gentle, it makes your heart slow down in ease because it reminds you of him, and just as you rest your head against his chest, he starts to sway, guiding you in a simple dance in the middle of the bedroom, the song ending and repeating itself in his pocket.

You giggle, “you have this planned or something?”

“No!” He says incredulously. “I just heard it come on as I was finishing the dishes. We haven’t danced in forever, huh?”

“Yeah,” you hum blissfully, “been a while since we’ve made the time.”

“You still know how?” He teases, and before you can answer, he’s quick to spin you out of his arms before pulling you back in, your squeals and laughter egging him on. When you’re back in his grasp, you bat at his chest.

“Yes, I know how,” you say, beaming up at him. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, the song coming to an end, followed by it replaying only seconds later. You snort, “I knew you had this planned.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he chuckles. “I wanted to have a romantic moment with you. Excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” you promise.

[valleyofheartz]

Eleven: Not Mine

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺

Suna felt the need to check on you after seeing you down at practice.

You start to question whether or not to continue chasing after Suna.

Oikawa cheers you up for the rest of the night as you binge-watch chick flicks together.

previous - next - masterlist

a/n: angst:< sorry guys

taglist: @wolffmaiden @ridzu @oneiratxxia10 @jadelynnrr @alexithemiyatic @circusjanreblogs @fallenisded @notrsz @i-narizaki @aquariarose @sleepystrwbrryy @toges-cough-syrup

[lumiinix]

You like to call your boyfriend cute when you talk about him to your coworkers, saying things like: “He’s so cute, he cooks for me all the time!” or “My boyfriend just bought me this flower bouquet for our date! Isn’t he the cutest?” and it planted an image into your coworkers mind of your boyfriend being this soft looking guy. So they definitely didn’t expect a tall muscular guy with a face that literally embodies “if looks could kill” to walk into the building claiming to be your boyfriend and that you had asked him to pick you up. But it did help a little when you run into his arms telling how much you miss him and for a moment, they catch his hard face turned soft. Ok maybe he was a little cute.

-Sakusa, Ushijima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Tsukishima.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[clubkira]

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right!

premise. the nhk gives it’s viewers a peak into the love lives of the jnt’s lineup, interviewing the future wives of the jnt to crack the secret to a happy relationship ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (atsumu miya, rintarou suna, wakatoshi ushijima & shoyo hinata). fluff. somewhat decent relationship advice. downbad fiancés. healthy relationships(!!). suggestive moments. petnames.

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part two can be read here.

dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.

ATSUMU MIYA.

“after every fight, just apologize.”

“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.

“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”

You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”

Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”

You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”

He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”

“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”

“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”

“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”

She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”

“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.

“Awe, c’mon! I’m not that bad with relationship advice!” He pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy when he does so, “What makes you think I’m so bad at this, do you actually want to marry me, babe?”

Your eyes soften at his saddened tone, feeling slightly guilty you link your fingers with his, eyes full of love when he smiles down at your intertwined hands.

“Of course I do, ‘Tsumu.”

The camera crew awes as you turn back to face the cameras, still holding Atsumu’s hand firmly in your own, running your thumb over the smooth cut diamond ring studded band he wears on his ring finger.

“The advice I have to give viewers is; Apologize when you are wrong,” you tell the interviewer, “No matter your pride, no amount will replace your relationship. It’s never worth sacrificing your loved one just for the sake of winning an argument.”

“Uh huh, you’re one to talk about that, babe,” Atsumu rolls his neck, “You never apologize first, it’s always me who has to for you to talk to me again.”

“What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “I’m the one who initiates the apology conversations, you’re the stubborn one out of us.”

“Nuh-uh.”

You groan, “Exactly.”

Atsumu pulls his hand out of yours, placing it on your thigh instead before facing the cameras. “But, she is right. Do not ever choose a winning an argument over your partner. It ends badly.”

“You would know,” you snort, “You give me the longest silent treatments until I coax you out of it with kisses.”

“Can we cut that out of the broadcast, please?”

You purse your lips to hide the oncoming smile until Atsumu leans forward, a handsome grin on his face as he looks directly into the rolling cameras with a newfound confidence.

“But, y’know. I do always apologize in the end, ‘cause my girl’s never wrong.”

RINTAROU SUNA.

“make time for her.”

“You see this girl?” Suna jabs a thumb in your direction from across the kitchen, leaning against the marble island lazily as the camera team nods. “Yeah, she gets constipated if I don’t give her enough attention.”

Your head perks up immediately as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, “Do not.”

“See, she’s doing it right now.” He ignores, drinking from his glass of water before setting it down on the counter, ignoring the little gasp you let out at his actions.

Rolling your eyes, you smack his arm before sliding a coaster under his drink, “Don’t scratch the marble, Rinnie. I just bought this island.”

The camera team silently giggles at the short interactions between you two, with Suna sticking his tongue out at you and in response you give him a middle finger before he turns back to face them, “Can you believe her?”

Scoffing, you enter the camera frame beside him, “Don’t bring them into this, Rinnie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m your fiancée.”

Suna opens his mouth to argue before shutting it promptly, “Good point.”

One of the crew members holds a sign from behind the cameras, indicating to get the interview back on topic. “Why would you ever ask her for relationship advice?” Suna chuckles, “I was the one who made the first move.”

“The interview is for the fiancée’s of the JNT, Mr. Suna,” the interviewer reminds him, “But the players are welcome to voice their own opinions as well.”

Suna stretches his arm behind his back with a yawn, a sliver of his abdomen peeking out from underneath his home shirt before disappearing quickly, “Well in that case, allow me to voice this opinion—”

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can begin, “Nope, didn’t you hear them? This is my interview, Rinnie.”

“Buhf dey shaid I can shpeak too, affhole." Suna glares from behind your hand, removing it from his mouth with a groan. “Did you even wash your hand? Tastes gross.”

“Why did you lick my hand?”

“We’ve done freakier things than that and that’s what you’re worried about?”

Your words get lodged in your throat, sputtering out hurriedly, “This is going on T.V, Rinnie!”

He looks to you with a smug smile, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to rewatch this interview and see your reaction again later.”

Your fists clench momentarily before taking a deep breath, relaxing yourself and facing the cameras with a smile. “Anyways, some relationship advice I’d give to anyone watching; make time for your spouse.”

Suna nods along to your words, “Mhm, I think that’s the most important thing in a relationship.”

“Shut up, Rinnie.”

“Ouch,” he fakes a stab through his heart, monotonous eyes but a playful grin on his lips. “I talk for two seconds and you tell your dear fiancé to shut up?”

You shake your head towards him jokingly, continuing to talk to the interviewer, “A healthy relationship means you spend time with your loved ones, and your spouse should be the most loved person in your life.”

The reporter nods, “I see, I see, what do you suggest to our viewers the best ways to spend quality time with their lover?”

“In bed.” Suna chimes in immediately, earning another smack on the shoulder from you. “What?” He looks at you with a knowing grin, “Oh, you— I didn’t mean like that, oh my god you’re sooo dirty minded.”

He chuckles, “I meant like cuddling, laying in bed together, watching movies. Y’know, wholesome things.”

“Nothing is wholesome with you,” you exasperate, speaking from personal experience. “But yes, those are great ways to spend times with your lover. They’re good times to bond with them, or just relax and unwind after a long day.”

“Yeah, after a gruelling day of practice, it’s nice to come home and lay in her arms,” Suna motions to you before leaning his head on your shoulder, his grin now replaced with a small but gentle smile. “She’s all I want to see after practice.”

“Wow,” you tease, leaning your head atop his, “and where did you learn to be so smooth, hm? Are you just playing it up for the cameras, Rinnie?”

Suna snickers, hands crossed over his chest relaxed, “I would never,” he says before mumbling close to your ear.

“I just, really like to spend time with you.”

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.

“treat her like a lady.”

“My fiancé is out right now at the gym,” you inform the NHK station crew, their camera men follow you inside your house for the opening shots of the broadcast. “Make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”

The interviewer settles himself on a seat at your dining table as you reach for the vase of flowers atop, moving into the kitchen to pour the old water out of their vase, careful to not spill any over your kitchen counter as you refill the container with fresh water from your tap.

Refreshing the water, you carefully place the flowers back into their vase before rearranging them neatly, coming back out of the kitchen to place them back on your table and adjusting them accordingly as the interviewer watches amazed.

“Those flowers are very lovely,” he notes softly, almost as if any louder of a volume would disturb the plants, “Did you fiancé happen to get them for you?”

You smile, “yes, he did,” recalling the first time he got you a bouquet, on your first date many years ago.

“‘Toshi knows I love flowers.”

The soft click of the lock to your house causes you to perk your head up in familiarity, the frame of your fiancé’s figure coming into view as you see him placing his shoes down beside your door before coming inside.

“Welcome home, dear,” you call out to him from the kitchen, one of the camera crew’s members break off to film your fiancé as he enters the home. He drops his gym bag to the floor beside your couch, removing his jacket and hanging it on your coatrack before passing through the halls of your shared home to get to you.

Ushijima shuffles his way into the kitchen, passing by the camera crew and approaching you from behind, hugging you as his hands are wrap around your stomach, head dropping into the crook of your shoulder.

You lean into his touch, his freshly showered hair smells of the shampoo the two of you use.

“Are you showing them the flowers I got you?” He asks, eying the pretty arrangement of flowers on the table. The cameras zoom in to take a closer shot at the flowers, noting the vibrancy of the colours and the lack of thorns adorning the stems.

You and the reporter nod, Ushijima lets a small smile settle on his face. “She told me they were her favourites,” he tells the reporter.

“Hm,” he hums before turning to you, microphone extending outwards. “is that your relationship advice for the viewers then? Giving your loved one gifts?”

You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no! No, that’s not my advice— Of course, do get your partner gifts if you know they’ll enjoy them.” Ushijima straightens up, hands snaking around your waist to stand beside you as the cameras pan out to record the both of you in the same shot.

“‘Toshi just really likes to get me little things,” you smile, reminicing on all the times your eyes barely glazed over something in a store front before he was scrambling inside the shop to buy it for you, despite your pleas.

“But gifts do not have to be expensive,” You reassure the viewers again, “just little trinkets that remind you of your partner will be enough.”

Ushijima nods before lifting your hand up to the camera, showing off the engagement ring with a large diamond displayed proudly atop it. “Yes, but I do like to splurge when it comes to her.”

You retract your hand quickly, warily eying your fiancé, “‘Toshi! Don’t make the viewers think they need to buy people’s happiness with expensive gifts!”

His head tilts unsurely, “My love, do you not like the ring I got you?”

“I-I do! When did I ever say I didn’t?”

His eyes crinkle slightly in concern, “Then why are you hiding our engagement ring from the viewers?”

“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want young, inexperienced lovers to think they need something like a huge, flashy engagement ring to be loved by someone.”

“But you deserve the best,” he rebuffs, “There is nothing I wouldn’t buy for you if you asked.”

“‘Toshi.. this isn’t really helping our case…”

The reporter turns to Ushijima, “Even though this is a special for the JNT fiancées, the players are allowed to give their own insight.” He informs your soon-to-be husband, “Do you have anything else to add for our viewers?”

Ushijima thinks for a moment, silent in thought as you look to your fiancé, and the sight of his matching engagement ring twinkling under the bright studio lights filling your home catches your eye all too quickly.

“Do you have anything you want to say, ‘Toshi?” You nudge his shoulder slightly when he continues to remain quiet, an encouraging smile on your lips.

He nods, bringing the hand with your ring on it before giving the intricately cut diamond a kiss, his piercing eyes gazing deep into yours, causing your face to heat up fervently at his wolfish grin.

“Treat your partner the best that you can, like the lady she is and deserves to be treated as.”

SHOYO HINATA.

“don’t forget your anniversaries!”

Shoyo’s leg bounces feverishly as the reporter speaks to you casually, unable to contain his excitement at being asked to join you for this broadcasted interview special.

His grin is wide, beaming whenever you sneak small glances at him whenever the reporter looks down at their cue cards of start up questions to ease into the conversation, before the real topic is brought up.

“Do you have any relationship advice for our viewers?”

You’re about to speak until Shoyo interrupts you, quite literally flying out of his seat while brightly smiling as his hand grasps yours with a tight grip, “I do, I do!”

The reporter chortles, smiling at his tactics, “Thank you, Mr. Hinata. But this interview is specifically for your fiancée.” Shoyo’s face sullens lightly until he speaks again, “But you’re allowed to give your own thoughts when she’s done.”

Shoyo slumps back into his seat dejectedly as you rub his back comfortingly, “Sorry, Sho. But just let me speak first, okay?” His pout is replaced instantaneously at your words with the usual smile he holds when around you, “Alright, baby!”

You look towards the reporter, hand still clasped in Shoyo’s securely. “Here is my advice for a healthy relationship; Don’t forget your anniversaries.”

Your fiancé’s mouth hangs open in shock at your words, head whipping to face you with a hearty laugh, “That’s what I was going to say!”

The look of shock that spreads across your face amuses him, staring at you expectantly for a few moments before you too erupt into laughter, shoulders shaking in surprise as the two of you cling to each other for support, with Shoyo nearly falling off the couch with how hard he cackles.

He clings onto your shoulder to stop himself from tumbling, which in turn causes you to laugh harder as you try to pull him back up as Shoyo calls out for you to ‘save him’.

“Baby, I’m falling!” Shoyo shrieks while howling with laughter, “Grab my hand!”

“You’re already grabbing my hand, Sho!”

Cameras stationed around your living room pan to zoom in on Shoyo’s joyful face when he fools around with you, the grip he still holds on your hand as clear as day as you jokingly attempt to rescue his bumbling self.

The out of frame reporter looks to the two of you happily, the fact that you both seem so absorbed in each other and have forgotten about the interview portion of the broadcast is surprisingly heartwarming for both the crew and the viewers watching the broadcast.

Once the two of you manage to calm down, you shyly look back to the NHK crew with a timid smile.

“Sorry,” you apologize to your interviewer, coughing as you try to hold back another bout of laughter when you catch Shoyo smiling at you again, attempting to contain his giggles. “We got a little- uhm, carried away.”

“It’s no problem,” the reporter chuckles, “I can see the two of you are very much in love, so is that the advice you wish to tell our viewers on how your relationship with each other is so healthy?”

You and Shoyo nod simultaneously, “Yeah, don’t you ever forget your partner’s anniversaries!!” Shoyo sternly but playfully warns the viewers, “I’m serious, guys! Anniversaries are important!”

“What anniversaries should our viewers be aware of when it comes to their lovers?”

This time you speak up, “Well, the major and most well known ones of course,” you begin, listing off the ones you can recall at the moment.

“For example; first month together, first year spent as a couple, birthdays could also count I suppose—”

“Did you know I proposed to her on our fifth anniversary?” Shoyo interrupts excitedly, the same happy and bright smile on his face shining when he proudly pulls up his hand to show off the ring on his finger, “I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to put the ring on her finger after she accepted!”

Recalling that memory brings warmth to your cheeks, “Yeah, he literally forgot about the ring in the box until I asked him about it later.”

“But in any case,” you circle back to original topic at hand, noticing the way Shoyo’s smile dampens a little when you switch back so quickly as you shoot him an apologetic smile, you don’t want to waste the reporter’s and NHK crew’s time any longer.

“Don’t forget your anniversaries, people! They’re a big deal for a ton of lovers!”

“Th-that’s right!” Shoyo piggybacks off your response, “And if you do forget, you better apologize a lot!”

The reporter nods, turning their attention to your fiancé. “And do you have any final thoughts for our viewers on how you maintain a healthy relationship with your fiancée, Mr. Hinata?”

Shoyo smiles deviously at the open ended question he’s been dying to answer this whole time; his hand creeping teasingly up your thigh to the small of your back as he leans in real close to you with a knowing wink, the flushed expression displayed on your face at his actions encourages him even more to continue.

His eyes glint with amusement, the mischievous grin on his lips is firm even in front of several strangers and cameras rolling in real time, footage of his behaviour being broadcasted to the entirety of Japan this very second.

And without shame or guilt, Shoyo smirks.

“Make your anniversary nights real special for her, trust me on that one.”

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.

[noosayog]

[baby fever] ft. ushijima wakatoshi

wc: 400

iwaizumi | atsumu | osamu | sakusa | kageyama

--

You’re standing outside the gym where the Olympics team is practicing when you see Iwaizumi walk by, hand in hand with a clumsily waddling toddler. Iwaizumi nods at you and the toddler waves a chubby arm at you. You giggle and wave back. 

“Did you want to wait inside?” Iwaizumi asks. 

You’re about to decline when the toddler tugs on your fingers. 

“Come in?” he asks. 

You agree, letting him lead you by his grip around your ring finger and pinky. Inside the gym, Iwaizumi asks you to watch his son as he finishes up with the team. The child quickly settles into your lap, his babbling trailing off as he dozes away. You’re fiddling with a loose thread in his little sweater when Wakatoshi comes up behind you, freshly showered. He greets you with a brief kiss on the head and sits quietly next to you when he sees the sleeping kid in your arms. 

“Who’s this?” 

“Iwaizumi’s son,” you respond distractedly.

Ushijima stares intently at you as you gently rock the small child in your arms. He continues to watch in silence as you double-knot his shoelaces, straighten the sleeves on his sweater, and swat away the drool at the corner of his open mouth. He notices when you laugh quietly at his little snores.

His eyes are still on you when you finally look up at him. 

“What,” you laugh. “What are you looking at?” 

Before he can answer, Iwaizumi comes to relieve you of childcare duties. He thanks you and you assure him that his son was wonderful. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Ushijima states. 

You only smile at him, swinging your clasped hands in wide arcs and skipping a bit. 

Later that night, with your back nestled into his broad chest, he rubs a warm, large palm on your tummy. The gesture is innocent and gentle, but the circles get slowly wider. 

“You like kids, huh?” As he talks, the palm slides up to cup your breasts. 

“Is that what this is about?” 

“What do you think,” he asks, hands not stopping. “About having kids.” 

You push him onto his back and roll on top of his chest, eye to eye with him. He gazes at you lovingly and you’ll never get tired of it. 

“I want a girl,” you say. “I really want to see your big muscly arms holding a pink blanket with our little daughter in it.”

He gives you a confused look, “if that’s what you want.” 

He flips the two of you over, hands back on your body. 

“What are you doing!” you laugh. 

“Starting now,” he says simply, as his hands continue their trail down your body.

[omi-boshi]

"I don't recall agreeing to be a glorified weighted blanket when I decided to come over." Kiyoomi chuckles from his place on your chest, legs tangling with your own, arms curled around your back. You kiss his forehead, your smile mirroring his. "You didn't? I thought it came with being a boyfriend?" "What? Crushing the love of my life with my entire body weight? I think I missed the patch notes for that update." He teases. "Oh, shut it, you loser." You roll your eyes, pulling his head closer to your chest to smother his laughter. "Just cuddle me. Please." "No," He huffs out his dissent, softened around the edges by the motions of your hands in his hair, and all the while his arms tighten around you. "You're asking for a lot after calling me a loser." You feel rather than hear his words as he mutters them into your — his — shirt. "I'm sorry, you big baby." The snort he lets out in response pulls your grin wider. "Whatever shall I do to regain your favor once more?"

He pinches you lightly for your dramatics; your exaggerated posh tone startling into a yelp. "Pancakes would be nice." A sharp inhale punctuates his words as you tug his hair harshly in retaliation, before smoothing it out in apology. "Only if we can go out and have ice cream after." "And of course, I'm paying since you'll conveniently 'forget' your wallet, huh?"

"That was one time!" He chuckles at your outburst. Turning his head just enough to leave a kiss on your collarbone, he halts your tirade before the words even have the chance to form in your throat. "Of course, baby." Then, he places one last placating kiss under your chin before both of you succumb to the coziness of the atmosphere.

[tvhsleb3ww]

SKINCARE ROUTINE - MIYA ATSUMU

swearing, flirting, pda, husband! tsumu, pure fluff honestly

"ouch! yer bein' too rough on me!"

atsumu groaned in pure agony as you pulled the blackhead remover on his nose. you scoffed before rolling your eyes at him.

"i'm being gentle! you're the one who's being dramatic here"

his lips curl into a pout as his hand that rested on your waist squeezed your flesh. his hair is combed to the back with a fox headband and his face is all glossy from the skincare products.

"this dramatic man yer sayin' is yer hubby. spare some love for me"

he huffs as he leans down so that you can apply the clay mask on his face. as stubborn as he is, he'd still listen and oblige to you. you're the only one he'll listen to aside his ma. never osamu though.

it was a Friday night and it was time for your weekly skincare routine where you do your usual skincare but just add a little more steps such as exfoliating and clay masks! and what better way to spend it if it wasn't with your husband?

atsumu had just returned from multiple oversea games due to the volleyball season. he's finally taking a break and spending all his holiday time with his lovely wife that can actually be real mean to him sometimes.

"there you go. now, we just let it rest for 20 minutes"

his pout grows at your words. what the hell is he supposed to do for 20 minutes with a mask on his face? although, he must admit that the skincare is lovely and rejuvenating. especially when you apply it to him. he loves to feel your soft hands caressing him.

"hmm, i wanna feel your soft hands on me, baby"

he whispered as he leaned down to press a brief kiss on your lips. his hand moving to the side of your face so he can kiss you. you happily smile against his lips before pushing him away gently.

"your lip scrub is still intact, tsum"

he scoffs and takes your hand that was on his chest to his shoulder.

"fuck some lip scrub. yer lips are my lip scrub"

you laughed as he leaned in again to press his lips against yours. you happily kissed him back and after some time, you pulled away to catch your breath.

both of you stayed there just smiling and enjoying each other's presence. his hands squeeze your waist as he pressed a kiss on the corner of your lips. you snickered as you feel his lips all over your face.

"ya know a missed you like hell, right?"

he asked in a teasing manner as he pokes your waist, making you jolt because it tickles. you playfully smacked his shoulder, making him laugh.

"i missed you too, tsum. i'm just happy you're doing skincare with me"

"ya crazy? i'd ditch disneyland for ya!"

he exclaims and nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, making you tickle. you giggled as your arm wrap around his neck.

"tsum stop it! your clay mask hasn't dried yet!"

he laughs as he place wet kisses on your neck and exposed shoulder due to your loose shirt (his shirt). he makes overexaggerated kissing noises just to annoy you. you laugh and playfully smacked his back.

"you're so annoying, tsum!"

he smirks at that before continuing to press kisses on your collarbone.

"yknow i got an idea on how we should spend the night"

"shoot"

"oh baby, ya know what it is"

he says with a playful wink.

[satorisoup]

PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER .ᐟ

ft. hq boys and their acts of intimacy <3

cw : fluff + sfw. timeskip! setting. mentions of bathing together.

ᰔ BOKUTO + BUBBLE BATHS

even though he may be a little too burly to fit comfortably with you in the tub, and it takes a couple minutes to get situated without getting squashed, bokuto loves to bathe with you. he enjoys running the warm water, not too hot, not too cold, but just right. he’ll mix in a nice scented soap that makes bubbles rise high in the bathtub, lavender and citrus you can smell in the mist of your bathroom. he’ll hold your hands under the water, and maybe splash you a couple times, but he shows he cares with the delicate touches he leaves on your skin as he washes away the worries of the world with a sponge of suds. he’ll lather your hair in your favorite shampoo, careful to not snag any knots, and rinse the strands with such gentleness you can barely even feel it. and when you’re all done, he’ll wrap you in a warm towel, snug and clean while he kisses your damp cheeks with a huge smile.

ᰔ KITA + FLOWERS

kita vowed that when he started dating you, he would never allow a week to go by without your vase being filled with a new bouquet. he’ll come home to you, new flowers wrapped in the palm of his hands as he kisses you hello. he loves the the way you get excited, eyes twinkling at the delicate petals and floral scent as you thank him over and over. he’ll watch you with a fond smile as you carefully take them in your grasp, setting them into a pretty vase that makes your home light up with color. he won’t let you see the flowers die, always keeping one for himself so he knows when it’s time to replace them. he’ll always tell you the meaning of the bouquet he got, or leave a pretty note tied around the stems. he buys a different type of flower every time, because he knows you’ll enjoy the variety. he adores you just as much as you adore the beautiful flowers.

ᰔ ATSUMU + MASSAGING YOU

atsumu has talented hands from years of playing volleyball, and he puts them to good use when you complain that you’re sore. he’ll knead at the expanse of your skin, smiling to himself as you sigh in content. he’ll rub away the tiredness of your muscles, gentle but calculated touches everywhere you could need. he likes to hold your hands in his, massaging from your fingers all the way up to your arms, and back down to your hands again. he’ll lay your sock-clad feet in his lap, squeezing and rubbing the ache away with his fingers. he’ll sit you on his lap, massaging the discomfort of your cramping shoulders until your melting into his touch. he won’t be rough, making sure his touch is tender and soft while he works the knots out. he kindly kisses your skin when he’s done, and feels that it’s a mission accomplished when you tell him you feel much better.

ᰔ OSAMU + FEEDING YOU

as long as osamu is around, you will always have a full plate. he’s always in the kitchen, a small and sacred book of his ma’s recipes standing proud on an easel. you don’t remember the last time you’ve heard your stomach grumble, because he’s already sliding a bowl your way. he loves how domestic it feels, to use the recipes he once enjoyed as a kid and serve them to you on a silver platter. he likes that you’re his personal taste tester, giving him a thumbs up with full cheeks as you chew. when your sick, he’ll insist on feeding you, hot spoon of soup between his fingers, his hand cusped at the bottom to catch any that falls. he’ll wake you up in the early mornings to tell you the food is ready, and sometimes surprise you with breakfast in bed. he’ll kiss your chubbed cheeks as you munch on one of his special onigiris, and ask you if you want another until your belly is full.

ᰔ AKAASHI + READING TO YOU

akaashi enjoys reading to you every chance he gets. a book held in the palms of his hands, licking his thumb every time he turns the page. he’ll have you curled up to his side, or sat between his legs, as he reads aloud the words imprinted on the page. he’ll add emotion to his voice at the important parts, and he’ll glance at your face to see your reaction. his voice is soft and soothing as he reads, occasionally moving his hand towards your hair to gently caress the top of your head. when it’s nighttime, he reads to you almost as if it’s a bedtime story, bedside lamp warming the room with it’s light as he flips through the pages. chapter after chapter he brings you closer to sleep, pages like a lullaby of prompts and fiction. he’ll pause when he notices your reactions have gone silent, breathing evened out as you lulled into a quiet slumber. he’ll smile as he puts a bookmark between the spine, already anticipating tomorrow when he can continue to read you the next chapter.

[kirbyskisses]

iwa iwa iwa iwa! :(((

iwa who teaches you to touch yourself :(

iwa who’s there to coax you through it, telling you how hard your cute little clit is for him as you sit help on his lap, forced to look at your nude form sat atop him, trembling cunt stuffed with two of your own fingers :(

“god, baby.” he coos. “you’re so turned on. so ready to cum.”

he whispers it against your neck, sucking on the soft skin with a proud, teasing smile.

he can feel you dripping on his fingers but he won't put them in yet. oh no, no, no - not when he has this perfect opportunity to watch his baby make herself cum for the first time.

iwaizumi whose steely eyes soften at your desperate, mewling attempts - hastily pumping your fingers into your own dripping entrance, tearfully trying to make yourself cum. 

“such a pretty pussy. and all mine.” he plants a kiss at the shell of your ear. “she’s mine, right cutie? that’s how i know what she needs. ‘m gonna teach you what she needs okay, angel?”

your mouth falls open, lips swollen from how much he’s kissed you - a distressed whine falling from you lips. 

 “can’t - haji. m’ fingers aren’t like yours!” you sob weakly, pussy walls squeezing pathetically around the thin digits inside you.

he chuckles a bit - you are right in a way.

his thick fingers, calloused but so, so experienced with massaging and feeling every inch of your body - they could make you come undone in seconds.

he’d be lying if he said it didn’t appeal to him; head swimming with the image of you as a sobbing, gushing little mess that can’t stop creaming nice and hard onto his hand.

but he wants to see you draw yourself to that euphoria.

“you can. baby you’re so beautiful on your little fingers. go on, add another. my perfect girl.”

“haji’ i can’t! ‘s embarrassing!!”

iwaizumi who ignores your plea, unfurling your small hand with his own sturdy one and making you rock your grinding hips onto a third, trembling finger. who thumbs your tears away before his hands return down your body to your hips.

“shh. nothing to be embarrassed about.” he gives a low, handsome chuckle - the type you can feel through his chest and his thumbs massage your hip bones. “don’t f’rget to thumb that clit, baby - she needs attention too.”

iwaizumi who kisses your cheek while all your pretty head can think of is how good his lips would feel attending to the wet, hard little bud rather than the sloppy, inexperienced circles of your now wet thumb.

“h-haji!” you sob, hips grinding into filthy little rolls trying to create some kind of friction on iwaizumi’s sturdy lap. but his hands keep you locked in place in front of the mirror.

“iwaaaaa - s’ not fair!” you sniffle, voice breaking pathetically at your attempts to thrust your fingertips onto that innermost gooey spot. you kick your legs like a petulant child but that only makes him tighten his hold on you, his heavy body restraining you. your lips let out a whine, only able to move your wrist and hand, back and forth into your precious folds.

“don’t do that, baby. stay still and look at yourself, angel. that tender little cunt - my baby’s gonna make it cream.”

“can’t like this - iwa, i can’t, I can’t—! i just need you to touch it , please-!” you wail. the stimulation in your pussy is teetering on too much and too little and it’s drivingyouinsane.

iwaizumi who sighs followed by a little chuckle.

“okay baby. if you’re that lost… let me give you a little help.”

you sob, expecting your boyfriend’s fingers to slip inside you and relieve your fruitless efforts when instead one hand wraps around your wrist, the other pulling back you thigh to widen you more -

oh, fuck

iwaizumi who plunges your own fingers deeper and deeper and then back out; fuckfuck-no ‘s toomuch, ‘s toomuch!

the knot in your stomach tightens when he pushes your fingers into something that makes you cry out. something too wet and deep and warm and he just keeps hitting it. he won’t slow down - whywon’theslowdown?!

“rub that little clit and keep hitting that spot nice and fast. that’s it. so good for me, baby, you’re almost there.”

iwaizumi who looks with proud eyes as you gasp and spread your digits inside your own tight walls.

you both sit watching the reflection of you pussy in the mirror as it flutters around your fingers. you melt against him, unable to stop moving your fingers - he just won’t let you! :(((

“haji,,, haji - wait! wait - lemme stop!”

“it’s okay. it’s okay, you’re so close. just a little more…”

“no! no you don’t ‘nderstand - you don’ - it feels funny, iwa - iWA!” every fiber in your body wants to slow your fingers and squirm away but his hands is on yours again forcing your wrist in n’ out and you languish, the most wanton moans blending in with the schlick, schlick, schlick of your sloshy pussy.

“supposed to feel funny. Just let me help… you’re doing amazing, keep your hand like that - good g’rl…”

iwaizumi who growls and lets your other hand pat and pinch and roll your ‘hungry little clit.’ you squeeze your eyes shut.

“no, no baby. look’t me. look’t the mirror. your pretty pussy, she’s so ready to cream. don’t you want to see her do it for the first time by yourself. fuck, your legs are shaking.”

you open your eyes but the sight of the mirror is still blurred by tears as you sniffle out another desperate plea.

“ ‘jime! haji - haji- n’t gonna cum! n’t gonna cum! I’m not -!”

“yes you are sweetie. can smell how close you are. i know this pussy - you’re gonna make yourself get there I promise.”

“no, no!” you babble, desperate to move - “no Haji - ‘s not cum - ‘m gonna pee! feels like it - lemme stop i can’t hold it!”

iwaizumi who chuckles, knowing you’ll ruin yourself if you stop and he won’t let you - your fingers piston in onto that gushing bundle of nerves and he rubs your the lower part of your stomach.

“n-no, iwa, iwa - !”

“deep breath baby. enjoy it for me. you’re doing so good - make yourself let it out for me.”

and then you reach it - your whole body trembling while you thrash against him

iwaizumi who smiles, praises dropping from his mouth about how fucking pretty you look cumming for him - splattering translucent fluid all over the mirror and onto his pants with the most wrecked, tear-filled cry of “ha… ha-hajimeeeee!”

iwaizumi who loves the way you whimper when you come down, utterly overwhelmed and needy on his lap as his muscular form praises you with a smirk.

“did such a good job, baby. congratulations.”

(for @sookisaurus and @sems-diarie)

[emmyrosee]

His phone rings once, and Kiyoomi smirks down at it.

You’re calling him, of course you are, why would you not be, and he sighs and excused himself before slipping out to the front of the building and answering the phone.

“This better be good.”

“Im crawling in your walls.”

He lets out a laugh and scrubs his face with his hand, “you miss me that much? I’ve only been gone for a few hours.” You whine on your end of the line, and he chews the tip of his thumb to stop himself from laughing.

“Kiyoomi,” you whine. “I didn’t give you enough kisses this morning. I’m feeling deprived.”

He cocks a brow, “babe, you gave me a thousand kisses before I left-“

“No, I gave you forty seven. I should’ve given you forty eight. Or a thousand.”

This, has him laughing. Laughing because never in a trillion years would he expect to let such ferality be allowed. What would 16 year old Kiyoomi think if he heard some person say “I’m in your walls because I didn’t kiss you enough”?

He wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t think someone would care enough about him to go through such lengths to be part of his life, a part of him, and he poked his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head.

“You can kiss me more when I get home.”

“I don’t want to wait that long.”

“I’ll kiss you back?”

This, has you stopping, and he raises his brows as he waits for a response. “You promise?”

“Of course I do,” he snorts. “When have I never not wanted to kiss you?”

“True.” You go quiet again, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.”

“…okay,” you finally sigh. “I’m gonna eat your drywall.”

He snorts again, “go for it.”

[piichuu]

♡ SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

FEATURING: sugawara koushi, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort (ish), fluff, gn!reader

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

“let’s not fight anymore, the couch must be uncomfortable for you to sleep on,” your boyfriend speaks as his hand is gently put on your shoulder. he has been sitting on the floor, right by the couch for a couple of minutes now, but this is the first time he speaks up. you should’ve known that he wouldn’t let you go to sleep in such an uncomfortable place, especially not after a fight. “we don’t have to talk about it right now, i just want you to come to bed so you’ll have a good nights sleep. if you don’t want to cuddle, we don’t have to, just don’t sleep out here.”

sugawara begins to brush his fingers through your tangled hair and sighs, waiting for you to reply or move. it takes a little bit, but you eventually begin to sit up, now looking down at the man who is still sitting on the floor, wearing the pajamas he put on hours ago. “there you are. come on, let’s head to bed,” he reaches his hand out for you to take which you do, allowing him to lead you into the bedroom where the two of you lie down without you saying a word to one another.

he watches as you get under the covers and once again turn your back to him, so he strokes your arm gently. “i’m sorry for earlier, sweetheart. it’s been a long week for the both of us and we aren’t in our right minds. just know that i’m not mad at you for anything, it may have seemed like it earlier, but i promise you that it was stress that has been built up by my co-workers, not you,” sugawara explains as he eventually moves his hand away from you so you’ll get the space you need.

as you don’t say anything, he closes his eyes and attempts to fall asleep. the two of you usually never go to sleep without solving a fight, but he won’t force you to try and talk to him either, knowing that it might just cause the frustration to grow. so he tries his best, hoping he’ll wake up in the morning and be able to talk to you, but he can’t sleep like this, not knowing whether you’re mad at him or not. those thoughts are however put to sleep as you finally wrap your arms around his middle and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “i’m sorry, i don’t want to fight.”

a slight smile spreads over his lips and he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “we’re good, baby. let’s just go to sleep together now. i love you.”

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

he sighs when he finds you already sleeping on the couch, not having spoken to him since he went to take a shower in hopes to rid of all the frustration and stress that’s been taking over for the last couple of days. volleyball practices have become more as him and his team are about to go into a tournament in just two days, so the stress has truly gotten to him, but also to you. he’s aware of the fact that you’re stressed about not being able to come with him for his upcoming games due to school work, so you try to spend as much time with him as possible, but it’s difficult when he’s barely home.

kageyama wants to be with you more than anything in the entire world, but the time often flies away when he’s practicing and the time for you decreases into only a few hours at night when you’re already asleep. when you wake up in the morning, he’s either making a quick breakfast for himself and gives you a kiss goodbye before leaving or he’s already left without a word. he’s never able to wake up beside you nor come home when you aren’t asleep.

today he was tired after hours of practicing and even though he had been looking forward to seeing you as he would finally get home a little earlier, he didn’t expect himself to be met by you with tears in your eyes as you begged for him to stay home the next day so the two of you could spend time together before he had to leave. it wasn’t possible, not now when it’s only a few days left until the tournament, his coach would kill him.

so here he is, standing by the couch, contemplating every single life choice he’s made. what did he even do to deserve someone who keeps trying when he is barely ever there? how come you stay when you never get to talk to him? he certainly doesn’t know, but something he does know is of his love for you. “i’m sorry,” he whispers while laying down behind you on the couch. his arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. “i’m gonna come up with something to spend time with you before i leave, i swear. i love you so much, so so much. i wish i could be a with you all the time…”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

he sits on the edge of the couch, leaning back against the cushions while looking at you who’s already sleeping. you would be in bed if it wasn’t for him and his stubbornness. ushijima injured his arm during his last practice and had been told by doctors not to work out for at least a month, but how did you find him when you got home from work? carrying weights back to their place as if he had just been training. how could you not scold him when he was risking his own arm getting even worse?

at first, he wasn’t agreeing to anything you said as he kept on saying that it wasn’t a big deal and that “it doesn’t even hurt anymore”. but as you only became more furious about the fact that he wouldn’t listen and then went to sleep on the couch instead of in bed with him, he slowly but surely began to understand that he was in fact making his arm worse. you had the right to be worried, but ushijima had no right being so stubborn.

“i’m really sorry for not listening to you,” your boyfriend mumbles as he searches for your hand to hold, giving it a gentle squeeze. “i won’t work out again until the doctors tell me that it’s okay, i promise. it was stupid of me to not listen to either them or you,” he sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, drowning in his own stupidity until he can hear you stir.

“you always make me worry about you so much, you’re so stupid,” you mumble while sitting up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “next time i find you like that, i might actually commit a crime,” usuijima chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “i won’t do it again, i swear. i will listen to your worries from here on out.”

he eventually climbs onto the couch and wraps his arms around your waist. “i hope your arm doesn’t hurt too much now,” you mumble, stroking his hair. ushijima shakes his head and flashes you a soft smile. “it doesn’t, thankfully. thank you for looking out for me, darling.”

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[lumiinix]

Whenever he went to the store, ladies will stop on their tracks and look at him with heart on their eyes, they would gossip to eachother about how there’s this handsome man who always came into this store, some even build enough courage to went up to him and strike up a conversation, only to be severely disappointed when they saw the wedding band on his ring finger. It gets awkward for them when they see him again, this time with you by his side, your husband’s hand around your waist and what’s more? A 5 year old child sitting on his shoulder. Yeah, they’re too late, he’s off the market now.

[clubkira]

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right!

premise. the nhk is hosting another special broadcast featuring the popular fiancées of the jnt’s lineup! and this time, it’s truth or drink! ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (koutarou bokuto, morisuke yaku, kiyoomi sakusa & tobio kageyama). fluff. downbad fiancés. suggestive jokes & allusions to sex. petnames. alcohol. overseas!kageyama & yaku (LDR). reader lives in japan (does not equal being japanese). a little angst.

notes. this part is… a little long! sit down for it ❤︎

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part one can be read here.

dear future husband m.list // hq. masterlist.

KOUTAROU BOKUTO.

“Been awhile since I last drank,” Bokuto cracks his knuckles upon seeing the many selections of beer he gets to choose, fingers twitching eagerly as they hover over the bottles. “Wonder what I should get…”

You sigh beside him jokingly, nudging his shoulder with your elbow, “We don’t have all day, Kou.”

“I’m just looking!” He chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

He randomly picks up a bottle of Sapporo, rotating it in his hands before nodding to himself, “This seems good!”

You place your hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the studio for a final run through before the broadcast, “Alright, Kou. Now let’s get this started!”

The NHK film crew do a final mic and sound check when you arrive as a staff member seats you both at the table in the centre of the studio, a pile of cards with questions written on them, two shot glasses and the Sapporo bottle your fiancé picked out lined on it’s top.

After fiddling with the microphones hidden inside your clothes, the crew give you two a thumbs up and rush back to their cameras to start the recording.

Bokuto’s entire body is turned towards the cameras, sitting on the edge of his seat as he eagerly greets the viewers, “Hey! I’m Koutarou Bokuto,” he catches your eyes with a bright smile, grabbing your hand from across the table, “And this is my fiancée!”

“And we’ve been together for three years now,” You finish for him, hands folded neatly on the table, the cameras pan to show off the engagment rings that sits prettily on both you and Bokuto’s fingers.

“Four months engaged.”

“And we’re playing truth or drink!” You and Bokuto announce happily together, smiling at each other before turning your bodies back to face the cameras. The film crew adjust their angles, moving their cameras off their stands to get better opening shots of you and your fiancé.

“You guys ready to play?” The head camera crew member asks, giving you the okay to start the game.

The studio lights illuminate the white backdropped room, enveloping your eyes in waves whenever you stare at the camera lenses for a little too long.

You and Bokuto nod as he shifts his gaze towards you, “Want me to go first, Baby?” He asks, already grabbing his shot glass and the bottle of Sapporo. You giggle, “So eager to get drunk, Kou?”

“I told you, it’s been awhile!” He beams, pouring out the alcohol carefully into his shot and grabbing the top card from the pile on the table.

“What do you like most about me?” he reads aloud, looking up at you curiously, “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me this exact answer before.”

“Have I?” you tilt your head in thought, thinking the question over, “I mean, probably. It has been three years, after all.”

Bokuto places the card face down on his side of the table, combing through his hair, “I think when we first started dating, you told me it was my hair.”

“It is nice,” you agree, causing Bokuto to start laughing and in turn making you giggle as well. The two of you are already giddy and snickering despite no alcohol being present in your systems yet, “But I think now that we’re engaged, I can give a more detailed answer.”

“Oh?”

He leans over the table excitedly, a wide grin plastered across his face, “Tell me, Baby! What do you like most about me?” His hand is still placed atop of yours, the perfectly cut gems in both of your rings twinkling in sync underneath the studio lights, perfectly complimenting you fiancé’s eyes.

You hum in faux thought for a moment before smirking, “Hmm, your muscles.”

Bokuto’s smile drops slightly to a pout, still keeping his bright composure while masking his lowered grin, “Awe, Baby I thought you were going to say something like, real deep and emotional!” He jests, “Like how you love that I make you smile, y’know?”

You throw your head back in laughter, nudging his shoulder with your free hand, “I’m kidding, Kou!” Your smile is genuine when you see how disappointed he was at first at your reply, looking straight into his eyes as a way reassure him.

“Yes, Kou. What I like most is that you make me the happiest every day I’m with you.”

His smile brightens significantly, a chuckle of his own escaping his lips as he leans back into his chair, “Damn, played by my own girl.”

He slides the pile of cards over to you with a mischievous smirk, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You take the top card off the pile and read it over, fingers twirling the empty shot glass in your hands. Your lips purse as you try to contain the giggles making their way up your throat while reading the question on the card, hands quivering in silent laughter.

“Have you ever wanted to fuck one of our friends while with me?” Bokuto’s eyes seem to pop out of his head at the vast difference and shift in questions, turning to the NHK staff while laughing, “Are you sure this is okay to broadcast?”

The film crew nod, to which Bokuto shrugs, “Alright, then,” before turning back to you. “Uhh, can I just like- take a shot right now?”

“You’d rather drink than not tell me?” You joke, pouring out the Sapporo for your fiancé, “Damn, Kou. Do I not satisfy you enough?”

“Of course you do!” He corrects himself hastily, “It’s just, uh..” he leans in closer to you whisper in your ear quietly, “I don’t want to say Atsumu on national T.V...”

Your hand flies to your mouth in shock, shoulders shaking as you try to contain your cackles, “Atsumu?” you repeat in a hushed tone, making sure you heard him correctly. “Him?”

“He’s got nice hair!”

You both start to laugh at how hair seems to be a common appealing trait you notice in people. Shaking your head in mock disappointment, you shove the stack of questions back over to your fiancé’s side for his turn.

“What is the most embarrassing thing you caught me doing when I thought I was alone?” Bokuto asks, reading from the card he picked off the top of the pile and glancing back up at you.

You hum in thought for a moment, pondering the question.

“Uhm, I think that time you were rehearsing your Valentines day speech to me before we went out to eat at that restaurant a few years ago,” you reveal cautiously, “but you were using a pillow with a photo of my face taped on it as a stand-in.”

Bokuto’s jaw drops at the revelation, nearly falling out of his chair from the shock of what you just divulged to him, “You were there? Watching me do that?”

You have to practically fight the cackle bubbling it’s way up your throat, a smile creeping onto your face when you answer, “Yes, Kou. But it was sweet, so I didn’t mention it to you.”

“You kept that a secret for two years?” He asks again, and you nod.

Your fiancé’s face remains stunned for a few more moments before breaking out into a smile of his own, hand running down his face while laughing to himself. “Damn, I must’ve looked so dumb.”

“I thought it was cute!” You attempt to salvage things, giggling as you pick up the next question card, this time it’s for Bokuto.

“What part of wedding planning is the most challenging part for you?”

“The money…” He pouts, taking the card from you to read it over again before turning to the cameras.

“Weddings are so damn expensive— Did you know wedding flowers can cost up to two million yen?” He exclaims in shock, “For flowers!”

You sigh, plucking the question card from his hand and setting aside on his pile with a smile, “This is why you should leave the financial decisions to me, Kou. Our floral arrangements will not be that expensive, I can assure you.”

“Of course, Baby,” he grins, “I trust you completely on that,” his hands move to pick up the next card, lifting the corner and taking a peek at the question before flipping it over and reading it.

“What is something you’ve wanted to try in the bedroom but haven’t told me about?”

“Impact play,” comes your answer a bit too hastily to be considered normal.

Bokuto has a silent stare off with you for a few seconds after before you both break out in hysterical laughter, your fiancé cackling at how fast and prepared you were when you answered while you exclaim that’s why you could never tell him.

“Baby, that was so fast!” Bokuto reels over the table, pounding his fist into the wood while howling with laughter, gripping his empty shot glass in hand.

“Were you— were you that prepared to answer?”

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you make an attempt to defend your response, “I know you’d absolutely wreck me if we tried, that’s why I never asked!”

“I mean…” He trails off, glancing at you and letting his eyes roam your ring finger as a smirk makes it’s way onto his face, leaning closer to you over the table. “We could always try it at home later—”

“Last question!” You interrupt him, pulling the cards over to your side and grabbing the last question from the stack, you see Bokuto’s smile drop when he sits back in his seat from how you changed topics until he sees you wink at him from the corner of his eye.

“What is something you wish to tell me before we get married?”

Bokuto’s eyes light up at his question, holding up his shot of Sapporo and beaming brightly. Despite not drinking much during your game, his cheeks are flushed like he’s been drunk on your love this entire time, eyes crinkling with glee when he smiles.

“I hope I can keep being this happy when i’m with you after marriage,” He declares, “I love you, Baby.”

“I love you too, Kou,” you smile with him, raising your own shot to clink your two glasses together and down them simultaneously, the cool smoothness of the beer running down your throats.

You can feel the mild bitterness on your tongue afterwards, it leaves it’s taste behind even several hours after your drinking game when you two return to your shared home.

But the sincerity in Bokuto’s eyes when they fell on you back in the studio, and the way he gazes at you like you’re the only thing in his world even with the several NHK staff and film members recording your every move washes that all away instantaneously, overpowering it with sheer sweetness.

It’s just not one you can taste as easily as the flavour of Sapporo.

You might not have gotten drunk that night, but Bokuto’s certain he’s been drunk on your love for the entirety of all three years you’ve been together and wouldn’t mind if things stayed like this forever.

MORISUKE YAKU.

“You’re going down, sweetheart,” Yaku warns you with a teasing wink, lifting the bottle of Vodka in his hands to inspect the label, “Playing in the Russian League gives me an alcohol tolerance advantage that you don’t have.”

“I didn’t know just playing in Russia meant you were an experienced drinker,” you hum, playing along with his jokes for the fun of it. “I don’t think athletes are supposed to consume a lot of vodka anyways.”

“Well, you might as well back out now,” Yaku advises, shrugging with a sly grin, one of the camera crew’s members rushes up to fix the loose microphone on his suit before scurrying back to their position.

“Don’t wanna get beaten by your own fiancé now, do you?”

You merely roll your eyes at his antics, a reluctant smile making it’s way onto your face as you realign the messy stack of cards on your table, sounds of the director doing a final run through of lights and cameras are heard around you.

“Yeah yeah, save it for after you get wasted, Mori.”

The cameras start up as the director nods in your direction, indicating for you two to introduce yourselves to the viewers tuning in, Yaku holds your hand as he recites his lines.

“Hi, I’m Morisuke Yaku,” your fiancé beams, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, “And this right here, is my wonderful fiancée, whom I adore very much.”

Even several years later, Yaku’s swoon worthy words have an effect on you after all this time, making you feel like you’re still in that young and eager love stage. Attempting to hide your giddy face from him, you turn to face the camera as well with a wide grin.

“We’ve been together for four and a half years,” You gush, the sparkling engagement band on your finger being shown outwardly when the cameras zoom in for a closer look. “Engaged for eight months, now.”

“And today, we’ll be playing truth or drink,” Yaku reveals to the excited viewers, the cameras change positions to new angles while the sound crew makes sure your microphones are picking up your words.

After signaling to the director that they are indeed working, he asks you two, “Are you ready to play?”

You and Yaku both agree as he opens the bottle of Vodka, pouring it into your shot glass first before he pours out his own, “Hm, what a gentleman you are, Mori.” You joke, noticing he gave you your alcohol first before serving himself any.

“Always, for you.” He sighs dreamily, setting the bottle down beside him and pushing the cards over to you with his familiar cheshire grin. “And because I’m such a gentleman, you should go first, love.”

You stifle a laugh into the palm of your hand at the sudden switch in personality but take the top card off anyway, flipping it over and reading the question for Yaku written on it, “What is one thing you wish I did more of in our relationship?”

He groans, slumping down in his seat with his Vodka in hand, “Fly over to come visit me overseas,” he jokingly groans, faux-booing you with a thumbs down and all as he turns to the film crew.

“Did you know she doesn’t get on the first plane to Russia whenever I ask, can you believe her?”

You merely snicker at his jeers and turn your card over, placing it down on the table beside your shot. “Well I’m sorry, but I’m unable to predict whenever you’ll miss me spontaneously.”

“It’s not spontaneous,” Yaku argues, “I tell you like, two minutes in advance.”

You raise an eyebrow at his claims, “Wanna bet, Mori? I have screenshots.”

“Maybe I’ll just drink to this instead.”

You both giggle as he shakes his head in defeat, taking the next card off the pile and reading out loud the first question for you.

“Have you ever—” Yaku begins to lose his composure as he reads, holding back his giggles before sputtering out, “faked an orgasm with me?”

You burst out into laughter as Yaku discards the card to his side, head thrown back in hysterics while using the table to stabilize himself.

“Well?” He asks, wiping the tears that have begun to form around his eyes, “Have you?”

You begin to reach for your Vodka shot, causing your fiancé to break out into another, more excessive fit of cackles, “Are you serious, honey?”

“Okay well, maybe!” You confess wholeheartedly, raising the Vodka to your lips, “Back when we were first dating!”

Yaku scoffs disapprovingly, but you can tell he’s not seriously mad when you down the vodka and he’s looking at you worriedly, asking if it was too strong for you afterwards.

You dismiss his concerns, saying it’s fine and that you can handle it before he relaxes and pushes the cards back over to you.

“Have you ever had a dream about me cheating on you?” You ask him, Yaku’s face immediately sours at his question, you look to him expectantly and wait for his reply.

“… Ugh, yes,” he begrudgingly admits after a few moments of silence, eyebrows furrowing as he recalls it unpleasantly, “I had a dream once where you cheated on me with Lev.”

“Lev?” You cackle, “The— the 6’5 russian guy from your highschool volleyball team??”

Yaku’s hand moves to his vodka-filled shot glass, “Yes,” he moans, “It was awful. Hope I never see Lev butt-naked in my dreams ever again.”

“You don’t have to drink to this one, Mori,” you giggle as Yaku downs his vodka quickly, not even flinching at the burn, maybe he was right about the tolerance advantage. “Since you answered it.”

“Ah, don’t care,” he groans, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, “After having to reimagine that scene, I needed the alcohol.”

Yaku takes the next card off the pile of questions skeptically, flipping it over and reading it out loud.

“Do you have any insecurities when it comes to me playing overseas in Russia?”

The question causes you to stop and think as Yaku places the card face down next to him, pouring another shot and sliding it over to you. “You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart.”

His gentle tone reassures you but you shake your head, pushing the vodka away, “No it’s okay, I don’t mind saying it.” Yaku looks surprised but nods understandingly, taking the glass back and giving you the room to process your next words while he remains quiet.

“I think my only insecurity is not knowing if you’re safe while overseas,” you admit to your fiancé. Yaku doesn’t say anything in response, knowing you have more to say as he lets you say what you need while silently encouraging you to elaborate.

“I hate not having you beside me because I don’t know where you are, and I just miss you a lot you know?”

Yaku’s cheek rests against the palm of his hand, concern washing over his face again as he looks across the table to you, “Awe, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way,” he coos, “do you hate whenever I leave for volleyball season?”

You shrug dismissively, the weight of your words beginning to catch up to you as your voice becomes quieter, trailing off at the end. “I mean, I don’t hate it, but like- I wanna know you’re alright while in Russia…”

Yaku’s about to speak when you shake your head dismissively, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” before you’re reaching for the deck of cards, already pulling the top question up and flipping it over to read.

Your eyes drag over the words as a pit begins to form inside your stomach. The next question for Yaku causes you to cringe, still reeling from the uneasiness of the last one as you awkwardly ask him, “Have you… ever regretted or had doubts about our engagement?”

Yaku’s face of concern turns into one of astonishment, he looks almost appalled at how unsure you look and sound while asking him.

“Absolutely not,” he states firmly, holding your hand that holds engagement band on it, you can feel the distress radiating off him as he reassures you in a hushed tone.

“I’ve never once regretted proposing to you, and I fully intend on marrying you.”

Yaku’s words dislodge the lump in your throat as you begin to chuckle to yourself, eyes looking down at his hand where the engagement ring he wears that matched your own. “I’m sorry if you thought I was doubting you, Mori. It’s just—”

“You don’t need to justify your feelings,” Yaku reiterates sternly, “I know, okay? You don’t need to explain this on live T.V.”

Knowing he’s only trying to make sure nothing of what you say can be interpreted wrongly later by media, you nod as he sighs in relief with an uneasy smile.

“I think this next question is our last one,” he announces, his smile morphing back into that familiar cheshire grin, the one that always brightens your day. You think he’s doing it in an attempt to lighten the mood, or maybe he just naturally makes you happy.

Yaku picks up the final question card and flips it over, reading it over with a calm smile, “What have you enjoyed most about being engaged to me?” His voice is gentle as he looks up to you, placing the card down on his pile.

“Well, love?” He encourages you, knowing he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable he gives you the choice, “Do you want to answer, or take a drink?”

You’d be a fool to drink at this question, there isn’t anything to drink for here but there’s just so much about being engaged to Yaku that you love that you can’t quite find the words for it. And while the majority of your engagement has been spent with Yaku being away in Russia, it doesn’t mean you enjoy it any less than if he were with you in Japan.

“… I enjoy knowing you will always be with me,” you begin to speak slowly, making sure your words are clear and concise while twirling your empty shot glass in hand absentmindedly.

Trying to fit all you want to say to your fiancé in a few words is tough, but you manage to shorten it enouhh to say all you want to tell him. “Because even while you’re playing overseas, I know you will always come back home to me.”

Yaku’s face unexpectedly heats up at your words, the apples of his cheeks turning bright red as his lips form into a shy and nervous grin, one isn’t anything like the mischievous and playful personality you’re accustomed to seeing while with him.

“I… I love you, sweetheart.” He manages to speak after some time, loosening the collar of his dress shirt nervously, but the smile on his face never falters. “I always have and always will.”

He extends his hand out to you, motioning for you to give him your shot glass. You hand it to him and he pours out some Vodka, sliding it back over to you once full before filling his own.

“Yes, honey,” he whispers unconsciously while pouring his alcohol, and it’s the happiest you’ve seen him all day. From his flushed complexion, dopey smile and euphoric demeanour, he appears to be glowing. Or maybe it’s the blaring lights behind him that are playing tricks on you.

Your fiancé has never looked so sure of himself until this moment, Yaku’s eyes never straying from yours as he raises his shot glass, breaking into his biggest smile yet.

“I will always come back home to you. No matter how long we are apart for,” and to that, you both cheer, clinking your glasses as you toast to your engagement.

Downing the alcohol in unison, the bitter sting of the Vodka attacks your throats relentlessly, but neither you or Yaku care about that in this moment or the next.

The world’s most intense Vodka brewed directly in the heart of Moscow, Russia could never be so strong as to have an effect on either of you when you’re in the presence of each other. You’re certain that Yaku would drown himself in the harshest of Vodka’s if it meant it was all for you.

A little Vodka is nothing compared to what he’d go through for you.

The way Yaku’s entire demeanour changes when with you, the largest of smiles etched onto his face for a side he only shows while you’re with him here, in Japan.

Remaining wholely committed to you even while seperated by land and sea is all a true testament to your relationship, and it puts your heart at ease.

Yaku may not always be at home; but Yaku knows that home is with you, and he knows he’ll always be with you in due time.

KIYOOMI SAKUSA.

“Oh, he’s a lightweight,” you tell the film crew who are adjusting their camera stands nearby as Kiyoomi pulls out the chair at the table for you to sit at, giggling when you hear the faintest muffled groan come from underneath his face mask.

Sitting atop the table is a bottle of Scotch, the deck of question cards and two shot glasses on it’s sanitized surface as per request by your fiancé.

“This’ll be so easy for me.”

“As if,” Kiyoomi scoffs, taking his own seat across from you and scooching his chair forward, “I’ll beat you and then have to hear you drunkenly cry about it back home later for the next several hours.”

“Nope,” you declare mischievously, folding your arms over the table and laying your head in them while looking up at your fiancé, “Hey, did you know Atsumu told me you’re an emotional drunk?”

You can see Kiyoomi’s eyes twitch underneath his thick black locs, hand reaching to grip his hair in annoyance. “That fucking—”

The director interrupts him unexpectedly when he calls to the rest of the crew in the studio for everyone to take their places behind the cameras, Kiyoomi sighs deeply as his shoulders relax and he leans back in his chair waiting for the broadcast to begin.

“I’m Kiyoomi Sakusa,” he states to the viewers plainly, barely acknowledging the cameras pointed straight at his face when he motions to you, “And this is my fiancée of almost a year.”

You can hear the way his voice softens lightly when referring to you as his fiancée.

“We’ve been together for four years now,” You welcome the viewers much more warmly than your fiancé does, announcing eagerly, “Engaged for eleven months, and we’re playing truth or drink!”

Again, you’re a lot more excited than Kiyoomi is when the director asks, “You guys okay to start playing?” but he agrees to it nonetheless, the subtle nod of his head doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

Kiyoomi grabs the stack of cards full of questions and shuffles the deck around a bit, when asked by the director why he did so he answers, “So if anyone planted any weird questions at the top of the pile for her they’re pushed to the bottom.”

After reorganizing the cards, Kiyoomi hands the stack to you, letting you have first pick of the game. You try to argue, but he doesn’t listen.

“Ladies go first,” he says, expectantly waiting for you to start.

You take the first card of the newly shuffled deck and begin to read it for your fiancé, “Favourite memory of us, pre-engagement or post-engagement?”

Kiyoomi taps his empty glass against the mahogany of the table repeatedly for a brief moment, thinking it over before letting out a deep sigh-turned groan, reaching over and pouring out some Scotch for himself as you sit back in stunned shock at his actions.

“Wait, what—”

“Don’t question me,” he rasps, lowering his face mask and downing his shot with ease, there’s hints of floral notes in the Scotch he can taste.

He pulls his mask back up seconds later and looks up at you, you swear you can see a smirk forming under his mask from the way his eyes lift in amusement afterwards, causing your cheeks to heat up at what he could’ve been thinking about that he had to take a shot to get out of saying it.

Finishing off his Scotch, your fiancé takes both the top card off the deck and his empty shot glass before reading aloud his first question for you.

“What was your first impression of me when we met?” Kiyoomi reads monotonously, his stare hardens when he notices you jokingly reaching for your shot glass, tossing the card over to your side with a groan.

“Really?” He huffs, arms crossed over his chest and glaring halfheartedly at your tease. “Didn’t Motoya say you like… hated me at first or something?”

“I didn’t hate you,” you giggle, pouring the Scotch into your glass while avoiding your fiancé’s gaze, “I just.. am a little thirsty right now.”

“Haha,” Kiyoomi laughs dryly, watching as you down your shot quickly, the citrusy notes in the Scotch make it pleasant to drink. “You’re soo funny, dear. Must be really thirsty today.”

“I am,” you wink, placing your glass back down on the table before taking the next card off the pile.

“What is the most embarrassing nickname for me you have in mind?” Kiyoomi asks, and you snort.

“It’s only embarrassing because Atsumu came up with it…” you turn to the cameras to whisper to the viewers, facing your fiancé who’s giving you a skeptic look that soon turns into existential dread when you begin to snicker.

He groans, “I swear to god if it’s Omi-Omi—”

“It’s Omi-Omi.”

You can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Kiyoomi while you bat your eyelashes innocently at him, playful shrug of your shoulders as you pull the cards back over to your side, taking the next card off the deck while your fiancé whispers something about killing Atsumu at the next practice from across the table.

“What colour or colours are your favorite on me?” You look up at the director almost immediately before Kiyoomi can even open his mouth, “Can I just say it— Because I know.”

The director nods, “He told me once it was black and gold,” Kiyoomi mumbles something incoherent under his breath, whatever he’s saying being muffled by his nask as he hides his face away from the cameras, the camera crew exchange a look amongst themselves.

“Aren’t those the colours of the MSBY Black Jackals?” One of the crew members mentions offhandedly and you smirk, looking over to your flustered fiancé with the most shit-eating grin you can muster, “Yes, yes they are.”

“Should’ve just let me answer instead,” he mutters while pulling out the next card from the deck to move the game along, coughing as his face slowly returns to it’s natural colour.

He chuckles when he reads it over, “How would you spend an entire week without me?” he turns to the cameras with his own smug face, placing the card down on the table. “She doesn’t.”

“I can,” you interject and he gives you a deadpan stare, “Yeah, can. Doesn’t mean you do, though.”

“Anyways,” you swerve back to your answer, taking the card from his side and reading it over yourself.

“I would have a very relaxing week without you, consisting mostly of singing and dancing in our empty kitchen without you to judge me.”

“I don’t judge you.”

“Yes you do.”

“Nope.”

You two could probably have this back and fourth for hours on end but you stop when you catch the director’s eye, one of his assistants motions to you hurriedly that it’s nearly time to end the broadcast.

With that in mind, you pick up the last question card, flipping it over and reading it for Kiyoomi.

“What’s one thing you’d like to tell me at the alter if you couldn’t say anything else.”

“That I love you,” Kiyoomi says almost immediately, tracing the rim of his shot glass with his ring finger delicately, you can hear the gentleness in his voice when he speaks. “And that I hope you’ll always be my lover, whatever that means for us in the future.”

“That’s more than one thing, Kiyo.”

“I don’t care.”

You scoff playfully, tossing the card aside and pouring out two shots of Scotch for you and your fiancé. Whilst handing him his glass your rings bump together momentarily, the clinking of the diamonds makes the two of you smile, though Kiyoomi’s is hidden underneath his mask.

“Cheers, my dear,” he mutters softly, lowering his mask again to drink and allowing you to finally see the beautiful smile he hides underneath, usually reserved only for you.

“Cheers, Kiyo,” and you two drink, the Scotch tastes lovely and refined on both of your tongues when it runs down your throats with ease.

It’s light and sophisticated, and the flavour profile fits Kiyoomi so well. You consider telling him that, but refrain because you think he won’t understand what you mean; not knowing he’s thinking the exact same about you.

Kiyoomi thinks you two may be a match made in heaven, if such a thing exists then it perfectly encapsulates the two of you.

As the cameras cut and several crew members rush around the studio, Kiyoomi doesn’t notice any of that in this moment— his gaze continues to be locked onto you wholly; lovingly enraptured by the beautiful image of you across from him that he hopes will be burned into the back of his head like the taste of this Scotch, but for many years to come and not just a mere few hours.

Kiyoomi can drink Scotch at any time he pleases, but being married to you is something he is excited for and craves everyday of his life as the days on the calender tick down to your wedding, it keeps him motivated to continue each day if he knows it’s just one day closer to a life with you, one where he knows you will be with him every day going forward.

The day you two will finally be united as one. Kiyoomi can’t wait for that morning to come, when night falls and after the ceremony is done he can finally refer to you as his wife and not just his fiancée.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA.

Tobio gulps upon seeing the Sake being poured into his shot glass by the NHK staff member, being handed the alcohol before they pour out another shot for you, to which you graciously accept with a smile and nod of your head.

“Uhh…” His piercing gaze reaches across to you across the table, nervously fiddling with the glass in hand as he twirls it inbetween his fingers, “I don’t, really hold alcohol well, love..”

“Really?” You stare at him blankly, squinting down at the alcohol in your own shot, “what do you drink in Italy then, Tobio?”

“Limoncello,” he sighs, “but it’s supposed to be sipped slowly, not downed like shots usually are.” He makes a face as the thought of attempting to drink Limoncello like shots ripples through his mind, it would most definitely not end well for him.

You chuckle and give him a reassuring smile, placing your hand over his gently. The diamond on his ring is cool to the touch when you run your thumb over it, with sharp and well defined cut corners. “You’ll be fine, Tobio.”

He nods unsurely but allows the NHK camera crew to do their final run through, making sure everything is in order before the cameras begin to roll and the director is motioning for you both to recite your lines.

Your fiancé’s voice is a little strained, a faint stutter can be heard as he speaks slowly, “I’m… Tobio Kageyama,” he manages to say before craning his head to his left, across the table.

“And I’m her fiancé,” his eyes shift towards you as you give the cameras a polite wave, “We’re playing… truth or drink.”

“We’ve been together for five years,” You excitedly tell the viewers, holding up your ring finger to show off the dazzling diamond atop it, “And engaged for two.”

The director asks from out of frame, “Why have you two been engaged for so long?” A question that most viewers are probably wanting to know, Tobio answers it for you.

“I wanted to marry her sooner,” he timidly admits, looking down at his lap to avoid the harsh glares of the camera lenses, “But with me playing in Ali Roma, it’s hard to plan things out, I guess.”

You nod, “Besides,” you chime in giddily, taking over for him, “It’s fun to be in this little engaged stage for a long time, makes everyday that bit more exciting.”

You ramble on about how fun it is to call Tobio during his off days; calling him at three in the morning in Japan while in Italy it’s 7PM to tell him about a cute floral arrangement you saw earlier that day while shopping that you’d love to have at your wedding.

Facetiming him in the dark of the night, wrapped in blankets and wearing his highschool volleyball jersey to ask him what kind of food from Italy he wants to incorporate into the wedding menu, and texting him photos of different style of wedding dresses you’re considering wearing on your big day while getting out of the shower.

You unintentionally forget about your jittery mess of a fiancé while you speak, beaming as bright as the glowering studio lights as Tobio looks at you amazed.

Tobio’s nervousness slowly fades when he sees the ring on your finger and just how happy you are to be engaged to him. It’s always been a worry of his that you hate the long wait to get married to him, that playing overseas would hurt your relationship because of long he is away from home at times.

But your gleeful joy in telling thousands of viewers in real time that you love just being engaged to him for two years; that you don’t mind it at all, brings some peace of mind to his fragile heart.

“Are you two ready to play?”

Knuckles slowly unclenching as he takes a deep breath, he nods his head to the director, indicating the start of the game. He starts first, picking up the first card from the pile.

“What is the most awkward date we’ve ever been on?” Tobio’s face drops immediately upon reading, turning the card face down on the table and turning to the director, “Can I start over? Or make her drink?”

“It’s her choice if she wants to answer or drink.” The director answers.

Tobio turns to you hastily, eyes practically pleading with you not to say what you have on your mind, he’s already inside your mind and fears for what you could potentially reveal on national television, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles as you reach for the Sake.

“Fine, fine. I won’t say, Tobio.” You’ve never seen your fiancé so relieved, almost seeing the metaphorical weight lifting off his shoulders with your own eyes when you take the shot.

The Sake is sweet, like sticky rice. It’s feels cool when it hits the back of your tongue and nice to drink, reminding you of the Italian sweets Tobio would send you from Italy. Noting that they’d pair nicely with Sake, you consider getting Tobio to send you more of them in the mail soon.

“You owe me for that one, Tobio,” you chuckle after finishing your shot, “Whatever the next question is you have to answer it.” He groans in protest but agrees after some convincing as you reach for the question pile and grab your first question for him.

“Have you kept a secret hobby or interest hidden from me?”

Shockingly, Tobio nods his head and unexpectedly calm about the question he was supposedly ‘forced’ to answer, “I got into gardening when I first came to Italy.”

“You what?” You utter, delightfully surprised at this revelation, “What plants do you take care of in Italy?”

“I have a few hanging Boston Fern and Ivy in some pots around my apartment…” Tobio tells you, adverting his gaze from your eyes the more your smile grows towards him. “I didn’t mean to keep them from you, I just… forgot to mention it everytime we call.”

“Tobio…” You laugh at how empty headed your fiancé can be at times, sometimes you think he’d forget his head if it weren’t secured to his body. “We call almost every day!”

“Yeah, but you usually call me late at night!” He defends himself, “I don’t normally leave my room that late at night, so you never see them!”

You shake your head in disbelief at this, faux disappointment at your fiancé for keeping this interest of his hidden for so long, “When I visit you in Rome, you have to show me these plants, deal?”

He nods in approval at that arrangement, a small smile creeping onto his face as he takes the next card off the deck, “Have you pretended to like a gift I gave you when you actually didn’t?”

You consider reaching for the Sake but reel your hand back at the last second, deciding to tell him straight up.

“Yeah, the lingerie you sent me a few months ago.”

“You didn’t like it?”

Tobio’s mouth hangs open, visibly swallowing his shame away as he sets the question card down on the table, a hand running through his hair in deep thought.

“Okay well, didn’t like isn’t the right word per se—”

“Was it the style?” Tobio begins interrogating you sternly, brows furrowed and that determined look in his eyes you’re so familiar with while watching his volleyball matches.

“Was it the colour, or was it too flimsy? I tried going to a new store that time, I knew I should’ve just stuck to the other one—”

“Tobio!”

He’s immediately brought out of his thoughts by your cackles, blinking as he’s focused on your laughing figure in front of him. His cheeks are tinted a dark shade of red, thinking he’s said something embarrassing when he whispers a low, “Yes, love?”

Through fits of giggles and laughter, you barely manage to sputter out, “It was just the wrong size, babe!”

Tobio’s eyes widen significantly at the reveal, looking down at his hands where his engagement ring sits comfortably in his ring finger, feeling his body shrink in on itself further into his seat while you’re howling across from him.

If you were seated beside each other he’s sure you’d be slapping his arm too for good measure.

“C-can we move onto the next question…” He mumbles just above the microphone strapped to his dress shirt’s minimum level to pick up sounds. If his old highschool teammates were here— if Hinata were here, god, he’d never hear the end of it. “Please?”

Finally settling down from your giggly high, you vaguely nod, still catching your breath when you reach for the next question card on the pile and flip it over as Tobio tries his best to calm down his reddened face.

“What is the most romantic thing your partner has ever done for you?”

After Tobio’s managed to relax himself, he thinks the question over, chin in hand as his gaze lands directly on the Sake bottle on the table beside him where he gets lost in thought while mulling over the question.

“I think…” he mutters to himself, “When you told me it was okay to go play in Ali Roma, instead of discouraging me to stay in Japan.”

His answer legitimately surprises you, “Is that, really your response, Tobio?”

He nods, hands reaching up to the nape of his neck. “Yeah… I don’t know if romantic is the right word, I guess.“

“But knowing you were there to support me; even if I could tell you were scared for me going overseas, it felt like the most romantic gesture someone could ever do to me.”

Tobio blinks, suddenly remembering his words are being broadcasted on national T.V and coughing awkwardly, “Uh, yeah, that’s my answer.”

He begins to notice the gazes of the rest of the film crew and director that are burning right through him, feeling the colour returning to his cheeks.

Tobio looks over to you anxiously, finding you with the brighest eyes he’s ever seen, he could get lost in them if he stared into them long enough. You purse your lips for a moment, before a smile blossoms across your face.

“Wow, Tobio,” you breathe out dreamily, “That was… so sweet of you to say,” Tobio has a hard time meeting your gaze, you can tell he’s still feeling anxious so you grab his hand and force him to look you in the eye.

“I will always support you, okay?” You tell him firmly, he’s a bit startled at how forward you’re being but nods before you quickly add, “Even if I don’t like being so far away from you, you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t be so nervous about this, alright?”

Tobio’s lips quiver into a strained frown before he sighs, “It’s not that simple,” you feel his hand give yours a light squeeze for comfort, interlocking his fingers with your own. “I wish I could just… not be so worried for you. But I love you too much for that.”

“Loving me means you understand that no matter what, I am right behind you,” you voice to him directly. “Maybe not physically, but no matter where you go, I will follow eventually.”

Tobio goes silent for a few seconds, even when he knows dozens of people in this studio— hundreds of thousands are watching him live, he’s only looking at you; having eyes only for you. With a shaky nod of his head, he finally manages to crack a smile.

“I understand.”

Releasing your hand from his grip, he pulls his next question for you from the pile, looking far more relaxed than he did at the beginning of your game. He’s comfortable in this stage of your relationship, even if he knows that others think it’s strange— the distance between you two, the long engagement period.

He knows the only opinion that should matter to him—that does matter to him is yours alone.

“When you hear my name in public, what comes to your mind?”

“That you have done another amazing set,” You answer with ease, allowing yourself to feed his ego for once. “Or won another game, who knows at this point? You can do it all.”

Tobio seems satisfied with that answer, even uncharacteristically relishing in your praise. “Ah, I am pretty good at volleyball, aren’t I?”

You lean over the table to punch his shoulder lightly, a teasing grin dances on your lips which matches his own, “Yeah yeah, you’re welcome for being so supportive of my fiancé.”

“Well thank you then, love.”

One of the camera crew’s members motions to the director, indicating it’s almost time to wrap up the broadcast. Feeling at peace, you grab the final card of the question deck, eyes flickering to Tobio as you read.

“Anything else you’d like to say to me about our engagement?”

Tobio takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he speaks. He wants to make sure he tells you everything on his mind, but maybe that will have to wait for another time— a more private time.

One that isn’t being broadcasted on national television. So he’ll settle for the next best course.

“I just wanted to say…” He hesitates for a moment, his mouth opening and closing at times until he can find his bearings. “That being engaged to you has taught me a lot of things.”

You’re about to say something in response until he holds his hand up, indicating he isn’t done yet.

“And… I wouldn’t mind if we stayed like this forever.”

Tobio notices the slight look of confusion in your eyes as he continues, “Wh-what I mean is, uh… even though we aren’t married yet, you make me so happy that I feel like I could be okay with what we have.”

“I still want to marry you!” He blurts out worriedly in an attempt to explain himself, “But knowing you’re not bothered by how long we’re engaged for is enough to reassure me that no matter how long we wait for, I’ll still be as happy as the day we marry.”

Tobio shuts his eyes, burying his head in his hands from sheer embarrassment, “Fuck, that was so stupid sounding-”

“Hey now..” You pry his hands away from his face with a pout, leaning across the table’s surface to cup his cheek, “That wasn’t stupid, that was sweet!”

“Really?” He asks, unsure if he believes you, “I’m not really good with my words, y’know.”

“Well I understood what you meant,” you smile, pressing a kiss to your ring finger and placing it on your fiancé’s lips, “And I feel the same way.”

Tobio’s face erupts into a bright scarlet red as you pour the two of you a shot of Sake each, downing them together with your rings on prominent display for all of Japan to see.

Your fiancé is still quite popular in Japan despite now playing overseas, overhearing the NHK film crew and the thousands of viewers who tuned in were watching his broadcast with you while dying in laughter.

It’s not laughter to mock him however— as he soon finds out when after the cameras cut and he can still hear the staff talking about how adorable he looked during the live special.

And his old highschool friends blowing up his phone, sending him clips of his broadcast with hearts and kissy face emojis, but you swear to him that it’s all well intentioned. Maybe not Tsukishima’s to some extent, but nontheless.

All Tobio knows he can do is sigh, turn his phone off and settle into your arms after everything’s been said and done. His time in Japan is limited after all, he has to fly back to Italy in a few days time.

He knows it hurts to leave you again, and you hate sending him off at the airport. He wishes he could marry you immediately— but there’s still so much to be done until that day can arrive.

Tobio doesn’t know when the lucky day will come when you can instead wear a wedding ring on your finger rather than an engagement ring, but as Tobio has discovered today; the two of you will be okay until then despite it all.

It takes a lot to make Tobio anxious about your engagement, but it also takes a lot to shake the strong foundation the two of you have built with each other over the years.

The two of you have planned your future with each other as the main component of it all in the centre of it for as long as you can remember, and he’s prepared to withstand any obstacles that threaten his happiness with you.

Tobio is at ease knowing you have his back, and he has yours even while separated by thousands of miles of stretching oceans and ground.

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.

[noosayog]

[baby fever - aka 6:36 PM] ft. iwaizumi hajime

wc: 200

ushijima | atsumu | osamu | sakusa | kageyama

You watch as Miya Atsumu settles into his seat in front of the reporters before setting the little toddler into his lap. She babbles quietly, incoherently as Atsumu answers question after question. 

“Yeah,” you hear Atsumu say, “I think the team works really well together because-” 

“Wa!” the little girl interrupts. 

“Because of our high school rivalries-” 

“Wawa-chan!” 

You watch Atsumu’s little daughter lock focus on Hajime standing next to you, reaching her stubby arms out to him. 

“Wawa-chan!” she repeats. 

Atsumu laughs, “she loves Iwaizumi, our athletic trainer.” 

You look over at your boyfriend, who’s trying to keep a straight face but also raises a hand to wiggle his fingers at the little Miya, who giggles in return. 

“I didn’t know you liked kids,” you whisper at him. 

“I don’t,” he says, all the while still making funny hand motions. 

“If you like them so much,” you snake your fingers into his large palm. “I could help you out.” 

Hajime squeezes your palm in reprimand. “Behave.” He looks over at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Anyway I’d like to get married before that.” 

You sigh dramatically, “such a gentleman. You weren’t last night when we were-” 

He slips the hand that was holding yours around your waist and gives the fat of your hips a solid squeeze. “Behave.” he whispers against your ear.

“Or I’ll make you later.”