#haikyuucreations

[amjustagirl]

Love knows not its depth (until the hour of separation) 

pairing: Kuroo x f! reader  genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! warnings: a tiny smudge of suggestive content wc: 4.9k m.list ~ taglist. ~

a/n: this is my rendition of a grown up Kuroo. life has been a little hectic for me recently, so i’m only getting around to posting it now. pls be kind and i hope y’all love it <3 

“I need a break.”

Kuroo continues to snore. You are unsurprised he doesn’t hear you. After all, he came home glassy eyed, smelling strongly of alcohol after yet another night of drinks with his boss before quickly falling asleep in bed. It’s what he does most weekday nights, leaving you alone at home to manage your two daughters and tuck them into bed. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro.”

You are too tired to even tell him how you feel. You have a career of your own, two daughters to raise, a never ending list of chores and errands that must be done. You are a mother, a wife, a career woman. You have so many roles to play yet there is no space for you. 

You must do something, anything or risk your heart imploding in your very chest. 

You cannot survive that. 

The next morning, you call your boss, ask for a day off. Then you pack your girls off to your mother’s place with two little suitcases with toys and clothes enough for a long weekend before you take the train to Hakone, check yourself into the ryokan with a view of Mt. Fuji that you spent your honeymoon at - except this time, you’re alone (but then again, you’ve been lonely for so long, you hardly notice the difference anymore).

You dip yourself into the hot waters of the onsens, watch bamboo sway in the breeze. It’s been at least a year since you’ve been even able to take a bath uninterrupted. There’s always something - Aiko needing help with her homework, Fumiko whining for another piece of mochi, your boss calling to chase for yet another report, so all you’ve ever had time for is a hurried shower before placating your daughters or seating yourself in front of your laptop to deal with your boss. 

Finally, you’ve stolen a day to yourself. It’s absolute bliss. 

The water is kind to you. Its heat soothes your aching muscles, the rising steam steadies your breath. You walk out of the baths feeling refreshed, renewed, but when you enter your room you find Kuroo Tetsuro waiting for you. 

“I’ve been calling your phone all afternoon”, he says, face pinched. “I was worried.”

“Were you?” you say before you can stop yourself. “Really?” 

“Of course”, he says, uncrossing his legs to stand. “You’re my wife and the mother of my children, of course I care.”

Wife. Mother. Employee. 

The roles that life has handed you haunts you again. There is no escape for you. 

Your skin suddenly feels as if it’s stretched too tight over your frame. Your bones rattle, brittle. They threaten to break if you take another breath. Yet you laugh and laugh and laugh, the sound spilling from your lips filling the room, suffocating the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you really cared, you would have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between bouts of laughter. “I tried fixing myself with a break but you can’t even give me that.” 

Kuroo stares at you, equal parts horrified and confused. He takes a hesitant step forward towards you before thinking the better of it, swerving over to the kettle instead, clutching it as if it holds the cure to your madness. 

“Calm down”, he says, “take a seat”, and you do. He offers you a cup of tea. You accept it, even though you’re still shaking from the aftershock of your laughter. “Drink”, he says, and you bring the cup to your lips, though you wonder absently why you taste salt in the bitter tea. 

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.” 

You want to tell him that you’re not strong enough to do what’s expected of you. You want to tell him that you’re drowning from the weight of being his wife, the mother of his kids, from being a working woman that he can be proud of. You want to tell him that you understand his career is important, but so is yours, and you can’t carry the weight of the world alone. 

But that would take too many words, and you are far, far too tired for that. 

So you say blankly - “I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

His face falls. 

You should remember that Kuroo Tetsuro, first and foremost, is a child scarred by his parents’ divorce. You should remember that you made promises that you and he would never put your daughters through that. But you’ve floated beyond hysteria into a grey indifference, your mind too broken, too tired, too numb to consider him when you can barely even hold on to yourself. 

You don’t even notice the hot tears soaking through your yukata. You are deaf to his pleas to give him another chance. There is nothing left in you to give because you’ve poured all you’ve had into him, into your family, into your job. You are so, so empty, and you just sit and sip your tea and wonder idly if the warmth from the liquid you’re ingesting will make you feel a little more alive, or if it’s possible to ease the dull ache in your heart. 

It is only when you wake up the next day and the sun is high in the sky that you register that he rolled out your futon for you, tucked you into bed, and kissed your forehead as a goodnight and goodbye. But all of this is washed away by the relief you feel when you read the note he’s left behind telling you that he’s returned to Tokyo, and to enjoy your break. 

So you do. 

You relish every bite of the meals you have at the ryokan. It’s nice not having to cook or scarf down your food at your office desk for once. You fill your time flitting between the onsens and curling up in your room with a book, taking frequent cat naps until tomorrow comes around again and it’s time to check out and head home. 

There’s a brief moment of surprise when the reception informs you politely that your husband already paid your bill - but you suppose that’s just Tetsuro being efficient at racking up credit card points. The bullet train takes you back to Tokyo, and a couple stops on the subway takes you home.  

“Okaeri”, you call softly out of habit, not expecting anyone to respond, but Kuroo responds with an even softer ‘Tadaima’, striding over to take your bags from you and usher you into the apartment. There are pink roses sitting in a vase, but you pay it no mind. 

“The girls?” you ask, already headed in the direction of their room. 

“I picked them up from your mom”, Kuroo responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed”.

A peek into their room and it settles your mind to see that your girls are safe and sound asleep. 

“Thanks,” you say, back in the kitchen, checking the fridge for what you can whip up for breakfast for you and the girls tomorrow. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

“It’s fine”, Kuroo answers, scratching his head. His hair seems a little more rumpled than usual. “I’ll cover it. I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

“You sure? You don’t have to pay for me, I’ve got money of my own.”

“No, let me pay for it, please. It’s the least I can do.” 

You shrug. “Okay”, you say gracelessly. “Thank you.”

He continues to watch you over the kitchen counter as you lay out bread, eggs, ham, cheese. It’ll do for a quick breakfast for the girls tomorrow, never mind the guilt eating away at you that you really should do better than feeding them processed food all the time. You’re so preoccupied with planning the morning rush, the best way to clear the stack of reports that must have piled up on your desk at work by now that you miss Kuroo rounding the counter to stare down at you worriedly. 

“You haven’t had dinner?” 

“Oh no, I had a bento on the train on the way back.” It’s second nature to you to brush away anyone’s concern. “It’s for the girls’ breakfast.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take them to childcare before work tomorrow. Sleep in and take a break.”

“Really?” You stare back at him, confused. He doesn't even take charge of the girls in the mornings when you’re sick, your mother always has to fill in your place. He only ever turns up on the first day of school each year. 

“Yes, of course. In fact, I’ve rearranged my work schedule so I can take them to school all of this week at least.”

“Oh”, you say, brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay, I guess. Wake me up if you need my help.”

“I won’t”, he replies, with a cocky smirk that seems almost false. “Goodnight, love.”

You don’t think of Kuroo’s strange behaviour overmuch, falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

Kuroo continues to act strangely all of next week. 

As promised, he takes charge of getting the girls out of bed and ready for school. But you’re taken aback when he starts coming home for dinner, completely floored when he hands you a whole armful of bath salts and orders you to take a relaxing, hot bath while he wrangles both the girls and the washing machine into submission. 

He even calls your mother to ask her to babysit on a Saturday evening so he can take you out for dinner at a fancy restaurant that serves foam instead of food. You manage to stumble through conversation with him - a commendable effort, since it’s been so long since you’ve even held a proper conversation with him besides snatches of discussion about the girls. 

At least until he states during dessert - “we can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

The mousse on your spoon melts by the time you put it down on your plate. 

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls? Is that what this is about?”

Kuroo shakes his head frantically, reaches across the table for your hand, but you yank it away with a glare. The extra rest you’ve gotten this week has injected a little more fight in you. 

“I try my best to be a good wife and mother, but I’m sorry I can’t be perfect and be there for you and the girls 24/7.” You press down on the sliver of cake with a vengeance. Clink! goes the flat of your spoon against the porcelain plate. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but I don’t want to be reliant on you.”

You regret your harsh words when Kuroo slumps back into his chair, murmuring “I just wanted you to be happy. Forget I ever said that.”

He pays the bill and you walk home in silence. He bids you goodnight with a crumpled smile. 

It finally clicks when you are startled awake by Kuroo’s shout of alarm. 

You roll over, grabbing his shoulder to shake him awake from the nightmare that has him in its grip. His eyes jolt open, and the sight of your face makes him sink back into the pillow with a sigh of relief. 

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave? This is my home, isn’t it?” You mumble, turning your back to him again. 

You feel the bed shift as Kuroo sits up. 

“No”, he rasps, voice rough with sleep. “I was afraid you left me”. 

Oh. So that’s what all of this is about. 

You must stay quiet for far too long, because he gingerly crawls over to you. 

“Dearest”, he says, your heart suddenly aching because you don’t remember the last time you heard him use that pet name with any amount of affection. “Darling”, he tries again, pawing at your back. You shut your eyes resolutely and refuse to turn to face him. 

He doesn’t give up, even though the distance between you seems to yawn wide and wider with each passing second. 

“Are you?” he asks, his words small, shrunken in the still, dark room. “Going to leave me, I mean.” 

No, you’re about to say, the word balancing at the tip of your tongue but it feels wrong. Your break has given you the space to breathe, the time to think. It’s made you realise what you’ve said to him in the ryokan that night remains true. 

This week has shown you that Kuroo can do better as a husband, as a father if he wants to. But he’s poisoned your marriage with neglect, forced you to dress up your sadness in silence, allowed your resentment to fester and simmer into frigid indifference. If you reassure him that you aren’t going to leave him, it’s only because you’re too tired to, not because you actually love him anymore. 

“I don’t know, Tetsuro. Our daughters deserve to grow up with both their parents, but I’m not sure I want them to learn from my example that it’s okay to shoulder the weight of marriage, parenthood and a full time job all by themselves. Your dreams and career are important, I know, but I’m just so tired of being alone in this marriage when it was always supposed to be a partnership between me and you.” 

You hear him choke back a sob. You should comfort him, but the exhaustion you feel at being honest with him, with yourself, weighs your bones down, forces you to sink further down into your mattress. 

“I’m sorry”, he finally says. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro”, you whisper brokenly, clutching the blankets to your chin. “I think I deserve better.”

“I know. I’ll make it better, I promise.” 

You want to ask him how, but your eyelids grow heavy, and you allow yourself to submerge into slumber. 

You’re not sure what to expect, but the ground beneath your feet shifts. Things start to change. 

Kuroo continues to take your daughters to childcare in the morning on the way to work as he did last week. That very weekend, he straps Fumiko to his chest, takes Aiko by her hand, and within an hour at the department store aided by a flash of his credit card, he purchases a dishwasher and robot vacuum for the house. He loads the dishes without you asking, runs the robot vacuum remotely once a day. It buys you time to breathe, a little more time to sleep. 

He doesn’t always make it home in time for dinner, but he tries his best to rush home so he can read the girls a bedtime story and tuck them into bed. 

“Dada”, Fumiko lisps, chubby fists wound around Kuroo’s tie. ‘I wanna hear another princess story!” 

“No Fumiko! Papa promised to tell us how he met mama!” Aiko prods Kuroo’s side with the wooden doll Yaku sent from Russia that you know he abhors. ‘Keep your promises, papa!” 

“Alright, settle down you monsters. I’ll tell you two stories if you promise to go to sleep right after that.” The girls cheer. “Now. Let’s see. A long, long time ago, your papa met your mama when she decided to beat him up because she thought he was trying to steal her food.” 

“You were trying to steal my food”, you interrupt, leaning against the doorway amused. “You didn’t stop til I stabbed you with my fork.”

He glances up, surprised when you sit beside him on the bed. Then he grins. 

“You left it on the table, dearest. What was a guy supposed to think?” 

“Mama, please let dada tell the story”, Aiko interjects with a huff. 

“Hurry up, dada! I want the princess story next!” Fumiko pulls at her silly dada’s shirt, pouting. 

You both laugh. There’s a soft smile playing on his lips when his eyes meet yours. 

Travelling all around Japan is still part of his job as a marketing director of the Japanese Volleyball Association. But now Kuroo pares it down to the bare minimum, makes sure he’s always back by the weekend at the very least to sweep the girls in his arms and shoo you off for a break of afternoon tea with your friends or shopping with your mom. 

“Will you be ok when I’m gone?”

You hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

He bends down to kiss Aiko on her forehead, pinch Fumiko’s cheek playfully. 

“Yes. Well. I’ll come home soon”, he says, quietly. You startle slightly as he brushes his thumb over your wrist, lets it drift over your pulse point. “Please wait for me.” 

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’ll see you soon then”, you reply. His smile widens, his eyes are hopeful, bright. 

On the weekends, he stops flitting off for work functions and events. Instead, now he joins you for lunches at the kaiten zushi near your house, indulging the girls by ordering yet another plate of sushi just so Aiko has another chance to win a toy from the gachapon and Fumiko has another chance at feeling grown up when she lifts the plate from the conveyor belt. He stops ducking out from dinners at the grandparents’ place - both his and yours. Your mom stops giving him dirty looks when he actually turns up more than three times in a row with sake in hand. 

Once every so often, he even throws little parties for your family of four, going so far as to buy a frilly pink apron that makes your daughters giggle when he whips it out for the first time. After a few mishaps (and a number of frantic calls to Fukunaga), he masters how to make takoyaki and okonomiyaki, and in the colder months, he makes steaming pots of nabe and shabu shabu. 

“Itadakimasu” you murmur, and the girls follow suit. “It tastes good”, you say. 

He ducks his head bashfully, pink dusting the column of his neck. 

“Thank you”, he replies. “That means a lot, coming from you.” 

You start to savour the bubbles of happiness in your chest when you see how your daughters’ eyes shine when they see their papa whip out the pink apron. You learn to laugh when you hear the pitter patter of little feet, their delighted squeals and shrieks when they tell you the latest exploits their silly papa is cooking up - sparklers under the stars one weekend, a nerf gun fight, the next.

The weight on your shoulders grows lighter and lighter until one day you hardly notice it at all. 

“What’s wrong?” you frown at the sight of your husband dashing out of your bedroom, hair a frazzled mess. 

He whips around at the sound of your voice. “Oh. Oh.” He approaches you, slowly, carefully. “You’re still here.”

Your frown deepens. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed. Tetsuro, is everything alright?” 

He nods. “It’s fine - I just... I just woke up and thought you were gone.” 

You take a closer look. It’s dark, but the shadows of the night fail to hide the purple smudges beneath his eyes, the fine lines carved into his brow. His shoulders are bowed, his lips downturned and he looks broken, battered.    

Your heart hurts for him. 

“I’m here”, you say, beckoning him towards you. Physical affection has been scarce between you two for so, so long but he looks so distraught it’s only natural to pull him close, let him rest his head on your lap. “I’m here, Tetsuro. I’m not about to run off into the night – you know I don’t like the cold.”

He doesn’t laugh at your feeble joke. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?” 

“Yes”, you say firmly, combing your fingers through his hair, rubbing circles along his back. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do.”

You can feel him sag in relief. 

“You don’t have to work yourself to the bone for me. That’s – that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired, you need to take a break.”

He shakes his head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I can bear it as long as you don’t leave me.” 

“Tetsuro –“ 

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his. 

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he begs, head bowed. “I know I’ve been a shit husband to you for so long. It’s no excuse, but I thought - ” he swallows heavily, waits until his voice stops wavering. “I thought we were ok, ‘cos we didn’t fight, not like my parents did before – before my mother left.”

“I was too tired to fight with you”, you say simply. 

He nods once, jerkily. “I know – I know that now. When you disappeared that day, I didn’t know what to do. I went to your mom’s place and she reamed me out, screamed at me in front of the neighbours. I took the kids back, and it made me realise how fucking hard it was for you to do it all alone.” He inhales, closing his eyes as if the memory aches. “I know it’s late but I’ve changed, I swear. The girls need you. I need you. I’ll do anything as long as you stay.”

His fingers are freezing, but you do not pull away. Not when the desperation reflected in his irises makes your heart lurch in pain.

“It was hard”, you confess, and he shudders, struck in the chest by your honesty. “It was so hard, Tetsuro. You hurt me so damn much that I think I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was really functioning for a while. For a long while.”  

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, and you nod shakily. 

“I know”, you reply, reaching out a hand to cup his face, a bittersweet twist to your lips as he melts into your touch. “That’s a chapter of my life, of our marriage that can’t be re-written. We can’t rewind that. But the past few months have been so different. I – you’ve shown me you’ve changed. And I think –“

You fall silent. 

He prompts you. “Dearest?” 

You recall the glimmer of light in your daughters’ eyes every morning when he takes their hands to walks them to school. You hear the echoes of their laughter, the lilt in their sweet voices every night when they welcome him home. You think of the tea parties he throws, the blanket forts he builds, the frilly pink apron he wears without shame and the bedtime stories he weaves every night.

“I think”, you say, with a smile that reminds him of the rising sun. “I think we can make this work again.” 

He stares at you until the weight of your words dawns upon him, and he surges forward to fold you into his arms. 

“Thank you”, he whispers into the shell of your ear. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.” 

“Don’t thank me, you silly man”, you nuzzle into his neck sleepily, draping your arms around his waist. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He laughs wetly, cradling you close as you fall asleep against his chest, soothed by his heartbeat and the tenderness in his gaze.  

Fumiko wakes you up unceremoniously before the sun even rises by climbing into your lap, and you open your eyes to Aiko pouting, hands on hips, demanding to know what’s for breakfast, and dada, dada, make a ham sandwich, pretty please with a cherry on the top. 

“You guys are little monsters”, Kuroo teases with dancing eyes. “Can’t even give your papa a break to snuggle up to your mama.” 

The girls shriek in dismay. “Don’t be mean”, you admonish him gently. 

He mock sniffs. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

Aiko and Fumiko crowd the sofa, clamouring to give their papa a kiss, but he stalls them with an imperious wave of his hand. 

“This morning, only a kiss from your mama can chase my crankiness away”. His tone is teasing, but his shoulders remain tense.  

“Nonsense. You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine”, you scold, swatting his arm lightly as the girls giggle. 

“Yours do!” he protests, and you roll your eyes as you press your lips to the corner of his lips, laughing when he puffs out his chest and declares his day can now start, that everything’ll be as right as rain.

Some days are full of sunshine, whilst others are full of rain. That’s life – but it’s bearable, enjoyable even, now that you and Kuroo face each day together, thanking the sun when it shines, and splashing through puddles on rainy days. 

Things recalibrate. 

The mornings are his domain now – he’s a master at concocting the most random breakfast items to satisfy your finnicky daughters. Aiko sniffs when she informs you that she’d prefer her papa to braid her hair, thank you very much, and when you shoot a look of death at Kuroo, he can’t even keep his face straight, his trademark hyena laugh erupting from his chest. 

You cook dinner in the evenings, appreciating the times when he can join you at the table, not counting the nights he can’t against him because you know he’s trying his best. The girls clamour for his stories every night, laughing when he teasingly scolds them for yanking on his tie, demanding goodnight kisses from both him and you. 

Now you force Kuroo to take some time to himself, shoo him off for lunches with Kenma, get-togethers with his Nekoma schoolmates. “I know you can manage it”, you tell him archly, “but you need breaks  so you don’t burn out, or worse – you’ll lose your hair and we don’t want that”. When he opens and closes his mouth without a smart retort, you smirk. You get your way. 

Both of you organise parties and playdates, inviting your shared friends – Kenma, of course, is a frequent guest, Bokuto, who brings along Akaashi and his sweet tempered little son (who Aiko always manages to pick a fight with, much to Kuroo’s amusement). You host Kai, who always brings offerings of flowers from his garden, Yaku, when he’s in town with his daughter, son and alarmingly fat cat. The adults congregate in the kitchen with food and alcohol, cracking good natured jokes at Kuroo and his frilly pink apron, watching the children cause a ruckus in the living room. 

But you cherish the quiet moments you share with Kuroo at night when the children are asleep in bed. The chats you have whilst soaking in a hot bath about your day at work, the snippets of stories he shares about his boss, his crazy colleagues, the warmth of his arm around you as you stay up to clear emails late into the night, the heated kisses he presses to the nape of your neck to distract you when he thinks you’re working too hard. 

It’s a good life. You’re happy, and so is he. 

A year slips by. 

The seasons come full circle. You return to the ryokan, finding peace in soaking yourself in steaming pools, watching the bamboo sway, the sun rise over Mt. Fuji. But this time, you’re not alone. You persuade Kuroo that he, too, needs a break - deserves one, truly. So you leave the girls with your mother and take the bullet train down to Hakone. 

He shoots you a smirk as you both emerge from the private bath he’d insisted on booking. You swat at him, pulling your yukata higher up your neck, scowling as he winds an arm around your waist to press you into his side. 

“You couldn’t wait til we got back to our room?” you hiss at him. 

He chuckles lowly in response. “Didn’t hear you complaining”, he retorts. 

“We were in an onsen, Tetsuro!” 

“A private one”, he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, laughing aloud when you try and fail to slap your hand over his mouth. “What d’you think I was going to do with my lovely wife? I’m not a monk, sweetheart”

You try your best to shush him, but his cackling manages to capture the attention of everyone in the lift.  

“What a happy couple”, an old lady remarks, within your earshot. “They must be newly married” 

You think she must be a little senile. Or a little blind. 

Neither of you are in your first flush of youth anymore - there are streaks of grey in Tetsuro’s mop of hair, extra weight in your hips and lines in your faces. No one could conceivably mistake you for a pair of newlyweds.

“Nah”, Kuroo drawls easily into your ear. “Just your regular old, married couple.”

You don’t speak until you’re safely in your room. 

“A regular, old, happily married couple”, you say, as he hands you a cup of tea. “That obaa-san got that part right at least.”

Kuroo chokes on the lump of emotion in his throat as you serenely sip your tea. 

The tea tastes bitter (as it always does), but the kisses that follow are so very, very sweet. 

[bokutosworld]

the moment they knew | ushijima, daichi, bokuto

characters: hq captains (ushijima, daichi, bokuto) with gn!reader words, genre: 1.5k words, fluff + slight angst. warnings: none! summary: in love, there’s a moment where everything falls into place and you realize that there’s no one else you’d rather spend forever with. | part one (with oikawa, kuroo, kita)

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI;

admittedly, ushijima is not the best at relationships

but you brought out sides of him that he didn’t know even existed

and because he’s so in love with you, he finds himself looking for ways to surprise you

he doesn’t hesitate to try new things because all he wants is to make you happy in the way you make him complete

When Ushijima comes home, the first thing he notices is the other pair of shoes sitting by the entranceway. He smiles as he walks all the way to the kitchen where he heard a commotion.

Though your back was turned to him, seeing you in his apartment instantly relieved him of his exhaustion for the day. He hurriedly goes over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you to his chest.

“Wakatoshi,” you turn your head back and give him a peck on his cheeks. “Welcome home.”

He shows you one of his rare smiles and reciprocates your kiss with his own. “Thank you, love.” He rests his chin on your shoulders and watches you quietly as you prep the ingredients.

“Do you want to help cook?” You were already expecting him to just hum and leave you to the dishes while he sets up the plates. So it was a genuine surprise when his hands left your body and retrieved the apron (it was a matching set to the one you were wearing) from one of the drawers.

He silently took his place by your side, and took the cutting board and the knife from your hands. You watched in awe as he skillfully sliced the onions in perfect shape.

“Do you need me to cut the carrots too?” You hadn’t noticed that he’s finished until you heard his voice close in your ears. That night, the two of you cooked together for the first time and there was something so intimate and so special about it.

“This feels nice,” you commented as Ushijima now worked on slicing the raw chicken fillet. “I thought you didn’t know how to cook.”

“I’ve been practicing.” His answer surprises you. You can’t help but imagine him watching cooking tutorials and the thought makes you smile.

“Really? And what exactly motivated you to learn how to cook?”

Ushijima stops and turns to you with the warmest look in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t want you to do all the cooking in the future.” He grasps and kisses the back of your hands. “I wouldn’t be doing my job as your partner if you don’t let me serve you too.”

You don’t know which of the two takes your breath away—the way he looked when he said those words or the indirect proposal he just made. Either way, you were already looking forward to the future he’d just proclaimed.

SAWAMURA DAICHI;

your friends always said that daichi seems like the type of guy you’d bring to meet your parents

they weren’t wrong. he was the best partner anyone could ever ask for

you often find yourself wondering if marriage was ever on his mind

what you don’t know is that daichi had been carrying a ring box everyday since college graduation, just waiting for the right moment

Daichi clutches the material of his coat, hugging his body tighter as he stood and waited in front of your office building. He spots you walking with a friend and his lips curl upward into a smile. When you turn to look his way, he feels like a giddy high school boy as his heart skips a beat at the eye contact.

You bid your friend goodbye and run towards his waiting arms. He grunts when you throw yourself at him, laughing as you relax in his hold and he runs his hands over your back.

“You worked hard today. Shall we get your comfort food or do you want me to cook at home and prepare you a hot bath?”

You smile as you consider your options. “I like the sound of the second option.”

He takes your hands and brings it to his lips to plant a soft kiss along your knuckles. “Let’s head home then.”

The two of you begin a silent walk to your apartment complex. Lately, he’s been busy with his police work that he’s rarely had the time to stop by You take a glance at him, trying to remember as much of his face for as long as you can. Because you never know when he’d ever have the luxury of spending time with you like this.

He notices you staring, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. I just missed you.” You mutter. “Work has been keeping you too busy. It’s like you’re married to your job and I’m just your side piece.”

He laughs loudly that other passersby have turned to look your way. He says nothing, only squeezing your hands and looks at you with a glint in his eyes.

When the two of you arrived at your apartment, you made a beeline to the living room and planted yourself on the couch. You heard footsteps nearing and stopping at the side of the sofa.

Daichi had kneeled beside your position, his face inches away from yours when he calls your name. At the sound of his voice, you open an eye and see him holding out a ring in front of you. You sit up immediately, mouth hanging open as you search for the words to say but he beats you to it.

“You said earlier that you feel like I’m married to my job, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that but,” he pauses to stop the tears that threatened to fall. “But my job can’t compare to you. At the end of the day, I’ll leave work and come home to you.”

You’re both crying messes when Daichi takes your hand and positions the ring on your fourth finger. “Will you marry me?” Of course, you said yes.

BOKUTO KOTARO;

bokuto loves with his whole heart and he treasures you like you’re his world

your steadfast feelings made him confident and assured

but whenever a fight breaks between the two of you, his resolve always crumbles

when he realizes that nothing scares him more than the fact that he could lose you, that’s when he makes a promise

When Bokuto wakes up, he instinctively reaches for the other side of his bed and his heart drops when he feels nothing. He jolts up, eyes frantically searching his room for any sign that last night was not a dream.

He’s getting ready to stand up when the door opens and he sees you enter the room with a tray of breakfast in your hands. He scrambles on his feet and you’re surprised when he takes the food and places it on his desk before his arms make their way to hug you.

“I thought you’d left me again,” he mumbles in your neck. When you wrap your arms around him, Bokuto sighs and sinks further into the embrace. “I’m really sorry.”

It all started because of a petty fight. The two of you had been so busy with your own work that neither of you had time for each other. But the one time you’d both been home at the same time only resulted in an argument that led to you giving him the silent treatment for three weeks.

And those weeks were like hell for Bokuto. After that fight, he’d immediately realized his mistake and he’d called and messaged you but to no avail. Last night, you’d finally returned and Bokuto was more than relieved to see you.

“Let’s not fight ever again.” He looks at you with pleading eyes. “It was stupid of me to blame you for not having time for me when I’ve also been so occupied.”

“Bokuto…” You cup his cheeks and he closes his eyes as your hand gently caresses his face. “I’m sorry too. And I promise I’ll never disappear on you again.”

If there was one thing that he’d realized during the time when you were away, it’s that he could never live without you. He also couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your hurt and pain so he makes a promise.

He leans so close that you could hear the drumming of his heart. “I’ll never do anything to make you sad again. When we first got together, I told you that I’d only make you happy.”

You smile as you remember that moment when he’d asked you to be his. It was one of the best days of his and your life.

“And that’s what I’ll do from now and for the rest of our lives.” He’s inching closer and closer, your lips just a few millimeters away until you say something.

“What you said just now sounds like a wedding vow.”

He laughs, surprising you when he turns and plops down with you on the bed. He’s hovering above you playfully, “Baby, wait until you hear the rest of it.”

—

📝: @markysaurs (send an ask if you want to be included in my taglist!)

[reddriot]

sawamura daichi ✧ captain of the karasuno high volleyball team

we'll never win if we don't believe we can.

happy birthday, ian! (@katsukes) i hope you have a wonderful day and an even better year!

[shiio]

ch291 vs ch402

❝ i wanted to be able to say ‘aren't my teammates amazing?!’ just that little bit longer. ❞

my favorite hq!! panels: 1/?

[myelocin]

synopsis: sakusa, the only constant in your life was the love that taught you two was enough. life, on the other hand, teaches you that in the unpredictability of things, a serendipity is bound to redefine the things you’ve considered as truth your whole life. 

characters: sakusa kiyoomi, you, +bonus character!

genre: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, domestic/firstlove to marriage au, parenting!au, mentions of adoption, tw//mentions of abandonment & death

wc: 6.5k

a/n: um so this was a plot for makki but i am a joke, so here we have sakusa once again, and no, for once this isn’t an angst. | playlist: symmetry (JT Roach) ((atm not that edited lol))

-

“It’s cold,” you say and Sakusa’s quick to wrap his scarf around your neck.

Each time he does, you consider it as a win. Sakusa was never one to particularly prefer excessive public displays of affection, but more often times than he’d like, you always manage to catch him in moments he was feeling a little more relaxed.

Autumn, Sakusa thinks just may be his most favorite season by far. Something about the chill in the air, slightly emptier streets, and the changing colors of the leaves did just the trick to make the lengthy walks from school to train station a little more bearable.

And of course, Sakusa smiles, another reason was you.

“It’s cold,” you’d tell him time and time again, especially during the final weeks of November where the last few leaves were threatening to fall as winter slowly rolled around. He knew you kept your own scarf tucked deep inside your school bag, under the notebooks where you scrawl some notes from the board in the margins at best, and beside the empty bento box that you always share with him during lunch.

But despite that, he’d only sigh before looping the dark green scarf he washes multiple times a week snug around your neck.

“You really need to start bringing your scarf,” he’d tell you, adding some comments as an afterthought that sounded more muffled under his mask, but you’d only beam at him in response.

You know he never minded.

And you’re glad he doesn’t—because after school walks with Sakusa Kiyoomi in the late autumn, who also happened to be your first friend and your first love, was your favorite perk in the season.

Sakusa, who you’ve known for most of your life. The kid from down the block who chose to walk around the rain puddles when everyone else around his age—at the time—only sought to hop straight into them.

“Why don’t you play in the rain puddles?” you remember yourself asking, opting to stand across him from the other side of the puddle as you watched him furrow his brows together and step away from the edge where water met concrete.

“I don’t want my grandma to spend extra time cleaning my rain boots,” was his reply, and you can still—to this day—recall the determined look on Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eight year old face as nodded his head at his own answer and moved even further away from the puddle.

The two little moles above his eyebrow looked like the connect the dots, well, dots, from your activity book back home and it was then that you decided to make it your mission to befriend the cautious boy who avoided puddles because he loved his grandmother.

And it worked, you suppose, because more than ten years down the road, instead of walking around the puddles on the pavement, you spend your afternoons either watching him spike through blocks after school, or like now—tell him that you’re cold, when in truth all you wanted to do was just be warm in his warmth.

“Did you change the fabric softener?” you ask him, smelling something like peaches and cream instead of his usual scent of fresh linen.

“I did,” Sakusa hums. “Do you not like it?” he asks, but doesn’t really face you. He faces forward and watches for the pedestrian light to flicker back to green, so he watches the number count down as he waits for your response to his question.

“I like it,” you smile, pushing the fabric up against your face as you hide your smile behind the scent of peaches.

“Ah, that’s good to know,” Sakusa replies, almost immediately. He thinks about the crinkled receipt from your favorite boutique at the mall sitting between the pages of his textbook and decides that going through the awkward conversation with the salesladies gushing about how sweet of a boyfriend he is, was completely worth it.

But more so, he’s almost glad that like the receipt you didn’t see—you also don’t notice the way he’s already smiling under the mask.

-

“It’s cold,” you tell him almost seven years later, the smile on your face still as teasing as before, as you wait for him to open his arms for an embrace this time instead of just the scarf from before.

Peaches, Sakusa thinks. Your hair still smells like peaches after all these years. On the other hand, he can’t really bring himself to mind; he thinks he’s come around to realize that peaches are his favorite flavor now.

“When are you not cold?” Sakusa comments, the tone of his voice sounding a little clipped, but you only laugh in return. Despite the bark in his voice, he tightens his arms around you as you glance up, peeking at him huffing clouds into the winter air.

“What time’s the bus coming?” you ask, breaking away from him and opting to hug him from the side instead. He still feels warm, so you smile and press your cheek against the sleeve of his jacket.

“In about ten minutes,” he answers. “Could be a while though, if there’s a lot coming on and off depending on the stop.”

“Wanna wait inside the café?” he suggests, motioning towards the one right across the street.

You shake your head, letting go of his arm and wrapping your hands around his midriff instead, saying, “I’m warm right now so it’s okay.”

Beneath his mask, he smiles—and looking at him, this time you could tell. You’ve been with him long enough to notice the way the corners of his eyes crinkle every time he smiles.

Sakusa realizes he likes looking at you like that, and the moments he shares with you after every time you say you’re cold are quick to become his favorite.

You, with your sheepish smiles, fruit themed keychains, and love for the autumn weather.

He smiles, watching you as you take the seat closest to the window first before quickly wiping the seat he’s meant to take with the disinfectant wipes you keep in your bag.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, feeling his heart warm even more when you smile at him.

For him, it’s not the way you remember the little things about him, but rather, it’s the unspoken way you go on about it. The almost natural flow you pulled him into, that he just knows you outlined with nothing but consideration.

You liked jumping straight for the puddles, but he preferred watching you smile with his rain boots dry. He knew you preferred to drink your coffee with a little more cream and sugar than he did, and even if he didn’t mind sweeter drinks from time to time—he always appreciates you asking how much cream and sugar he’d like for his regardless.

And it worked the same for you, you realize.

In silence, you notice how Sakusa always spends a second longer to look at you every time you pull out the wipes you keep in your bag just for him, and feel your heart warm when he laces your hand together afterwards.

You knew well enough that he preferred to keep his hands to himself, but the exceptions he makes for you were always appreciated on your end.

“I know I can be a little much sometimes,” he told you once, some years ago, when you were at the stage in your relationship where it felt safe to be with each other in complete vulnerability.

“I don’t mind,” you told him, because the truth was you really didn’t—and still don’t—mind. “You’re just a little more cautious than some, and that’s okay.”

“You being a little more on the cautious side isn’t all there is to you, Omi,” was the last thing you said as you cupped his face in between your hands.

And to this day, you don’t forget the way his eyes soften with the thanks he whispers as he turns his head and kisses you on the palm of your hand that night.

“We should make something for dinner tonight instead of eating out,” you quip next to him. You watch the people on the streets walk when the bus slows, and blur when it picks up momentum again. You hold Sakusa’s hand in between yours, absentmindedly playing with his fingers and the sleeve of his coat.

“Sounds good,” you hear him answer, before adding, “do we need to stop by the grocery store?”

You think about it, your eyes focusing on the child outside your window, lollipop in hand and a Totoro backpack behind him, as you mentally go over what you remembered what you saw in your refrigerator that morning.

“I think we’re all good,” you say. “But we can pick up some fruit for dessert?”

Sakusa doesn’t really think about it; he just nods. He could always go for some peaches, he supposes.

When the scenery outside begins to blur again, you turn to face his hand outstretched on your lap and begin to lightly scratch his open palm, then slyly look to the side where he’s facing you, watching for a change in his expression.

There isn’t one; if anything, he stares at you with his brow raised.

“Does it not tickle?” you huff, holding his palm open and tracing over the middle with the tip of your nails instead.

“No,” he answers and you huff, pursing your lips before you ultimately decide to just lace your fingers through his instead. Sakusa squeezes your hand when you slot yours on top of his, and you turn to him, smiling.

“Love you,” you say, and even if you do so out of the blue, Sakusa chooses to smile. With his other hand, he pulls his mask down and leans towards you to press a kiss on your cheek, noticing how the skin’s a little cold compared to his lips.

“Love you too,” he murmurs and when you turn to him and give him another smile—the one that’s wide enough for him to make out the crinkling lines on the corners of your eyes, an epiphany strikes him.

He loves you.

Sakusa’s struck with the epiphany that he’s never been more in love with you than how he feels in this very moment.

But he realizes a second later, that he’s had this thought before too.

Yesterday, when he woke up before you and the alarm and spent the seven minutes before 07:30 admiring how beautiful you looked with the spilled light highlighting the plains of your face. Last month, when he came home early from practice and watched you slightly dance off beat in the kitchen to the tune of a song he recalls you singing in the shower that same morning. Seven years ago, when he noticed you always packing an extra pair of chopsticks and pieces of fruit in your bento box for you to share with him during lunch.

Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that even if the two of you were nothing short of being the personification of oil and water, as time moves forward, he only spends the twenty four hours of his day unearthing moments with you where he feels his heart so full that it seems like he can’t love you any more than he does in the moment.

Looking down at your hands where your left is intertwined with his right, he smiles. Sakusa thinks of the ring he remembers you commenting was pretty when you were at the mall a few weeks ago. He imagines how your hand would look with the ring he knows he’ll buy for you.

Then when you squeeze his hand, briefly turning at him with a smile as you point at the child outside with raccoon-themed backpack, Sakusa feels a familiar warmth flood his chest as his eyes zeroes in on you as he feels himself smile.

He wonders if the smile you have now would look the same when you see the ring he’ll hold out for you when he does so with one knee on the ground.

And even if the ground were to have puddles that day, he supposes it would be worth it.

-

It’s three years later, after a breathless “yes,” tearful “I do,” and keys to your first house where he hears you say “It’s too cold,” again.

It’s the middle of the winter when you walk out the door, meaning to stop by the convenience store nearby when you make it outside the gate of your home and see a child standing outside with a dull gray backpack and while he wears a too thin cardigan.

Sakusa sets his cup down, looks at you frantically calling him to come to the door, and grabs his coat and scarf as he makes his way to you.

When he walks out of the door and makes it in front of the gate, he sees you, squatting a little awkwardly in front of the child—who doesn’t look to be more than the age of even five— stare at you with the grey backpack pressed to his chest and a slight tremble to his form.

He recognizes the look on your face—and he knows that right at this moment your heart is already clenching.

“Where’s your mama?” you ask with a voice as gentle as your approach, and Sakusa decides to sit this one out as he stands behind you instead, leaning against the opened corner of the gate.

“She said I have to stay here,” he murmurs quietly, and when his body trembles again, Sakusa feels his fingers itch to wrap the scarf around him. You’re right—it is too cold for a child to be out in a weather like this.

“Did she go somewhere? What about your papa?” you ask again, deciding to maintain your distance when the child in front of you begins to sniffle and tear up.

“I don’t have a papa,” he whispers, then sniffles again. “But I have a mama and she said she’ll be back so I’ll stay right here!”  he finishes, puffing his cheeks in what you think is an attempt to keep the tears together.

You look at Sakusa, who stares at you looking equally unsure with what to do with the situation, but when he notices that you’re at a point where you’re at a loss of words, he chimes in for you. “How long have you been out here?”

Smiling, you shift to the side and listen as Sakusa’s voice softens when he addresses the child again. He’d make a great father, you think.

“Here since…” the child trails off, then looks up when he remembers something. “—since after breakfast!”

Your brows furrow, and when you look at Sakusa, you notice that his expression mirrors yours. “Breakfast?” you hear Sakusa repeat, then look at the watch on your wrist. “It’s already five pm.”

“Have you eaten at all?” Sakusa instead asks him, and your heart can only squeeze again when he shakes his head no.

“You said your mama just went to the convenience store, right? I’m on my way to go there so if I see someone maybe it’s her,” you say and the boy finally looks at you like he isn’t scared.

“Can you tell me your name? So she can recognize who I’m talking about,” you ask him again and he nods his head slowly before replying, “Arai Kazue,” with a small bow afterwards.

You smile; he’s still polite despite being scared.

“Do you wanna wait inside? It’s warm, and this uncle—“ you pause, gesturing towards Sakusa, “—can cook something so you can eat.”

His eyes brighten for a second, before he looked back down towards his shoes. “What if mama is on her way back, I don’t want her to worry.”

You check the time, glancing up towards Sakusa who only shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll be quick then,” you reassure him, and he bows again after a quiet thank you.

Kazue shivers again, and before you could unwrap your own scarf, Sakusa is already squatting down next to you, wrapping the boy in familiar fabric.

“It’s cold,” Sakusa says, and bundles up the boy under more layers.

-

“She’s not at the 7/11, or the two Family Marts on the other street,” you tell Sakusa when you made it home.

It’s a little past six pm by now, and you’re at least thankful that your husband had managed to convince Kazue to wait for her inside after sticking a note outside their gate that would tell the mother—if she came—that he was inside waiting for her.

“Has he said anything?” you ask, and sigh when Sakusa shakes his head no.

“Do you think….?” you ask, trailing off and lowering the volume of your voice even more when you look at Kazue sitting in the living room, a bowl of ramen in front of him as he watches the television play a show you only skipped past in that respective channel.

“That she left him there on purpose?” he finishes for you, and you sigh, suddenly feeling like your shoulders are as heavy as the weight of the possibility in your husband’s words.

“Maybe,” you sigh, not really looking forward to uncover the truth because of all the red flags already popping up in the situation. “We should just call the police,” he suggests and you nod in agreement, deciding that for the moment that really was just your only option.

The maybe, you referred to moments ago was later confirmed to just be the case because when Kazue later opens his backpack to show you the superhero he drew last night in his drawing book, a letter tumbles out before the book.

“Can I take a look at this?” you ask him, holding up the folded piece of paper with writing that clearly didn’t look like his, and he nods, before turning to face Sakusa as he flips through the pages of his drawing book.

You meet Sakusa’s eyes midway, and he nods for you to read the contents of the letter before he faces Kazue again, expression knit together like he was leaning something new.

“I’m sorry,” it reads, and it isn’t specifically addressed to anybody. “I can’t take care of him anymore,” it continues and your heart practically drops as you continue to skim through the sentences forming one after the other.

You notice the lines on the paper are smooth instead of soft; not a crinkle in the edges, or smudges on the ink. She’s been planning this, you notice, and when you look at Kazue who beams at Sakusa’s patient smile, your heart clenches even more.

“I know you and your husband haven’t had a child yet, and I don’t know if you’re even trying for one, but I know the both of you will be well enough to take care of Kazue.”

“I have no one else, and when I leave, he will have no one else.”

“He’s a kind boy,” it reads towards the end, and this is where you notice the strokes of the letters beginning to look a little more inconsistent.

“He eats his vegetables well, and he listens to his elders.”

You think about the empty bowl on your sink and remember Sakusa’s comment about how surprised he was that a child at his age actually managed to finish the variety of vegetables he knows even adults have trouble keeping down.

“I know I’m not in a good space to take care of him like he deserves, and I’m at a point in my life where I can’t continue,” you further read and your stomach drops when the next line ends.

“If you accept him, thank you, but if this situation just happened to burden you, then I’m sorry.”

Sakusa looks at you when you fold the letter back and choose to keep it in your hand instead of tucking it back into Kazue’s backpack. The zipper’s ripped off, you notice, and the straps look as worn as the scratches on the front pocket.

They must have had a tougher life, you think, and when Sakusa looks at you looking like he’s waiting for answers, you stay quiet because you don’t really know what to say.

By the time Kazue’s asleep in the guest room of your house, first you think about how plain the covers of the guest bed look next to the opened drawing book laid at the foot of the bed, all the colors of the rainbow looking like life against the white sheets behind it.

Then second, you think about the officer’s words that’s still ringing in your ear.

“We found a body by the river,” he said. “We recovered a wallet with a photo of that boy inside,” he continues, and it’s 01:09 in the morning when the weight in your heart overwhelms you and you finally begin to cry.  

-

Much like the both of you expected, the weeks after that day didn’t come easy. Kazue, much like his mother said in the letter, really is a kind boy. He listened to his elders and patiently waited for them to finish speaking before he added some comments of his own.

Even as you watched him listen to the officer scramble for words to explain the reality of his situation, he told them thank you for finding his mama before turning around and crying.

The investigation happened quickly, and it surprised you when Sakusa was quick to offer that Kazue was welcome to stay in the house during the process, seeing as none of the extended family members the police reached out to bother to respond.

“Are you looking to adopt?” was a question the officer automatically asked, and you could feel Kazue’s form stiffen in between you and Sakusa.

“We can take care of the costs for her funeral,” Sakusa instead replies, and when the officer looks at you in shock at the offer, you only nod your head.

“Thank you,” Kazue later says in the car ride home. He’s quiet afterwards, and Sakusa chooses to leave the car in silence as you continue to drive through the city, choosing to stop by the bakery on the way home to buy the cupcakes you saw doodled in the margin of Kazue’s sketchbook.

“What kind of cupcake would you like, Kazue?” you ask, turning around as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

He perks up in his seat behind you, fiddling with the buckle of his seatbelt as he puffs his cheeks and tells you, “It’s okay, I can eat whatever you pick.”

Sakusa beside you softens, then says, “You should go in with her so you can see what they have and pick out the one you like the most.”

“Can I?” he asks, looking at you, and you smile, slipping on your scarf as you push the car open. “Let’s go,” you call and Kazue clicks the buckle of his seatbelt, following in your suit.

“Make sure to put your scarf on,” Sakusa reminds, gesturing to the scarf he bought for him that morning. Sakusa smiles when he loops it around his neck, counting to three just like he taught him earlier, and tells him thank you, before opening the door and grabbing your hand as you walk to the entrance.

Despite the heaviness of the situation, Sakusa lets himself sit for a while in the moment. For now, the heater in the car feels warm against his skin, and the smile on Kazue’s face as he grabs your hand and walks into the adequately lit bakery is bright. Then he looks at you, soft smiles and patient eyes as you hold the door open for him to walk through.

Sakusa thinks it kind of looks like home.

-

“What’s gonna happen to him?” you ask Sakusa a week after Kazue’s mother was laid to rest.

You sit in your side of the bed, keeping your voice hushed despite Kazue staying in the room on the other side of the house. Sakusa walks out of the bathroom, grey sweatpants and a plain blue tee on, before he takes a seat on his side.

He thinks back to the boy, at how red his face looked as he cried into your shoulder while you carried him back to the car after the burial. Then, at the drawing of the three of you Kazue shyly presented during dinner earlier that night.  

“The police are probably coordinating with the people that will take him in,” he answers you after taking some time to think about your question.

“Didn’t none of the relatives call back? And isn’t his father already gone too?”

“Yeah,” Sakusa sighs, pressing his fingers to his temple, choosing not to look at you when he notices the urgency your tone gives away. In a way, he already knew of the question you were unintentionally leading up to.

“Kazue will probably be in foster care or the orphanage,” Sakusa finishes and beside him, you feel your heart already drop.

“Is the system going to be good for him?” you ask, turning your head so that your eyes meet Sakusa’s profile.

“I don’t know,” Sakusa answers, and truthfully, you aren’t even certain yourself if you want to know the answer.

“He’s just a child,” you say and Sakusa looks at you, sighing before he nods his head.

“Too young,” he murmurs and with that you put the book down and shuffle closer to him, watching with baited breath as you spill the thoughts in your head.

“Should we take him in?” you say quietly, and Sakusa’s eyes are quick to meet yours upon yours words.

“You mean adopt him?” he says a little quietly, the hesitation in his voice being the first tone you automatically pick up.

“I don’t want him to feel like he’s going to be left behind again,” you answer, truthfully, sighing as you recognize the undertone in your husband’s voice. Sakusa, for as long as you knew him was a man who practiced caution.

He was, is, and judging from this moment, will always be the one in the relationship to heed to practicality and reason instead of just flowing with the current. Like you’re doing now, you suppose.

“He’s been with us for less than a month, (y/n),” Sakusa tells you, his reminder not more than a whisper and it’s the softness and truth in them that finally gets you to see things from his perspective.

“The world is going to break him,” you say, and when you think back to Kazue smiling at you as he tells you thank you for the cupcakes you buy every other night—that’s when you finally feel the sadness spill from your eyes.

“He’s a kind boy,” Sakusa whispers when he opens his arms and lets you crawl into his side. “He’s tough enough to get through things.”

“The world isn’t kind,” you mutter against his chest, and despite Sakusa rubbing circles on your back to soothe the cries, he feels like he’s still at a loss for words.

Then when he goes to sleep that night, Sakusa dreams of empty sketchbooks and thin cardigans in winter weather.

He ceases to find rest that night.

-

“Why don’t you go out and play with the others?” you suggest, leaning down to Kazue’s height as you point to the playground not too far off. “Uncle Omi and I will be able to watch you from here.”

Kazue looks at you like he’s unsure of what to respond, then for a second lets go of your hand before deciding to reach forward and grasp it again.

“Last night was too rainy,” he says and you look at him, confused. Sakusa, beside you, does the same.

“Too many puddles on the ground,” Kazue explains, then looks down as he rocks himself to and fro with the balls of his feet. You smile; Kazue looks as cute in the yellow raincoat and matching rain boots Sakusa bought for him as he does wearing the raccoon themed backpack he shyly pointed to at the mall some days ago.

“Of course there are puddles, Kazue, it was raining last night,” you smile, letting go of his hand as you walk forward and lightly hop in the puddle.

Sakusa smiles as he watches you—it kind of feels like he’s looking at a page in the past.

But beside him, Kazue isn’t. Instead, he walks towards Sakusa and holds onto the edge of his coat as he continues to shake his head no.

“I know that Uncle doesn’t like when the things you have are too dirty,” Kazue begins; beside him, Sakusa looks down, eyebrows drawn together.

“He bought me these nice clothes so I don’t wan’ to get them dirty,” he finishes, smiling at Sakusa when he looks up at catches his eye.

“Thank you!” he says again, and you watch, with your heart somewhere between bursting and melting as your husband wordlessly ruffles Kazue’s hair and holds out his hand for him to take.

Your heart hurts, you realize. Because after today, Kazue would only be a name you’ll relate to your past.

“You’re going to a new home,” you had to explain to him slowly, and it hurt to tell him that because in the guest room—no his room—that he’d been staying at, were the drawings of the superheroes you’d listen to him talk about night after night, portraits of smiling faces he said were of you, Sakusa, and his mother stuck to the wall behind his bed.

For the month he’d been staying with you, the “Tadaima,” you or Sakusa would call out when you arrived would be answered by Kazue’s quiet “Okaeri,” as he met you by the genkan.

“A new home?” he’d asked, and while you excused yourself to allow for Sakusa to explain the situation, you listened from the other side of the door with your hand shaking over your mouth.

“You’ll meet your new parents that way,” Sakusa explained, his voice sounding like he was in between uncertainty and despair.

It wasn’t easy, you think, telling a child who was abandoned and lost his mother in the same day that he’d be going back somewhere unfamiliar again—but you suppose between you and your husband, Sakusa was the one better suited to explain the situation.

“I know they won’t be new parents,” Kazue replied and as you peeked back in the room you see Sakusa staring at him with wide eyes as a silent response.

“They’ll just take care of me for now, and that’s okay. I’m still lucky,” he finishes and the conversation ended just like that.

“He’s gonna be okay,” this time you tell Sakusa as you notice his expression shift in time with his hand ever so slightly tightening around Kazue’s.

You notice everything. Sakusa’s conflicted, much like you were—still are—but this, this was the best you could do for him.

Having kids was never included in you and Sakusa’s plan from the start. Life before, with the two of you had always been enough, and while the two of you never let go of the insatiable hunger for life—you knew that your thirst for it would be quenched with just the two of you.

Until life, ironically the very thing you were chasing, decided to give the both of you something it knew you would flow with.

“Always remember to bundle up, okay?” you remind Kazue when you make it in front of the entrance with who you assumed to be the caretaker standing by the door. Sakusa watches Kazue watch you, the boy’s happiness spilling as warmth into his cheeks as his lips break out into a smile as he nods along to your reminders.

“Thank you,” Kazue says again—and Sakusa internally tries to recall the amount of times he’s said his thanks to the both of you that day. He loses count after he hit fifteen.

“I won’t get these dirty because I’ll take care of them,” He tells Sakusa, gesturing to the things he has with him then gives him a smile when he squats down and faces him eye to eye.

Then when Kazue puffs his cheeks and leans forward wrapping his arms around Sakusa’s neck for an embrace, you watch, feeling the familiar throb of your heart return tenfold. You meet his smiling eyes as he opens them, and when he stretches his hand out for you, you squat down behind Sakusa and kiss Kazue’s forehead.

“Be kind, okay?” you tell him and he nods his head, the smile on his face never leaving.

Sakusa stays still, only moving when he feels Kazue part with him.

Cold, Sakusa thinks, he feels a little cold.

And it’s only thirty minutes after walking into Kazue’s new “home” where Sakusa feels the chills run through him again. He’s watching Kazue be introduced to the new children in the living room with you beside him, the caretaker’s words coming in one ear and floating out the other in seconds.

The guest room, or Kazue’s room as he thinks of it, will still have the drawings he pinned to the wall behind his bed when he comes home. He thinks of the totoro themed comforter you bought for him and the fact that it will still look as neat as Kazue left it earlier that morning.

His mind plays back dinner from the night before, and how warm his home felt when the three of you ate the dinner he cooked with the too many vegetables on the side, then laughed over the smudged chocolate frosting that you wiped on the corner of his lips as Kazue smiled at you both.

The room he sees him standing in now feels cold, and when he sees Kazue shiver and clutch the raccoon backpack to his chest he feels like the very same scene from the month before is replaying right in front of him.

Sakusa thinks he hears your voice, when you tell the woman that’s been explaining the process next to you for a little over twenty minutes now say “thank you,” and “we’ll get going now,” register in his head before he feels his feet already taking strides for him.

“Kazue,” Sakusa says, and when the boy turns and looks at him, that’s when he notices how quiet the room’s gotten.

From your spot, you look at him, unsure of exactly how to proceed because Sakusa—if anything, was never as unpredictable as this.

“We’re going home,” you hear him say, and your grip on the strap of your bag tightens.

“Home?” Kazue echoes and Sakusa’s heart clenches when he hears the yearning in the boy’s voice.

“Yeah, we can have dinner again, like last night,” you listen to Sakusa say, and your heart is suddenly overflowing with everything you’ve held back. Sakusa’s smiling again—and you know his heart is in the same state, because his voice softens even more.

“Just for tonight?” Kazue asks, a little unsure.

“Every night,” Sakusa answers, and just like that you know that when you go home that night—you truly will be home.

- “Mama, you really need to wear a scarf,” Kazue huffs as you walk with him to the entrance of your front door.

You nod at his words and wave him off with the yes, you’ve been responding to his every reminder for the past twelve years now. Kazue—your son—looks at you with the same softness in his eyes as ten years ago when he finally made it home.

“I’m serious,” he laughs, before leaning forward and letting you fasten the buttons on his winter coat.

Kazue grew up, with the roots of his personality remaining unchanged. He’s a kind boy, you think to yourself every day. When he turned seven and made Sakusa wait in the car so he could help the grandmother cross the street. When he was ten, and somehow persuaded your husband to let him keep and nurse the stray cat from your neighborhood back to health. And at seventeen—the now, as you listened to him talk about how he was going to lead his team into nationals.

“You remember what your dad told you?” you ask, smiling as he nods and points to Sakusa from inside, hollering “thanks dad!” with a laugh.

“I’d say I have the perks of having a national athlete as a father, but really, dad’s just that good of a coach.”

You smile, leaning to the side as you hear Sakusa’s footsteps grow closer and closer until you felt his presence right behind you. Leaning back to his chest, you kiss his jaw as a hello, laughing when Kazue groans at the “PDA”.

“We’ll make it to your game later, but have a good time in school,” you hear him say and Kazue nods as he fastens the zipper of his bag and waves at the both of you.

“Love you!” he calls out, walking down the steps and out the gate.

“We love you,” you murmur, your heart filling with the familiar sense of pride as you watch him leave, his dad’s jersey number on his back.

“It’s cold,” Sakusa says, then kisses the crown of your head when you turn to face him. “We should head back inside.”

Smiling, you tug the blanket closer to yourself as you answer, “It’s alright. I think I’ll stay here a bit.”

“Something on your mind?” Sakusa asks, closing the door behind him and taking a seat on the bench beside you in your front porch. Like habit, he takes the scarf from around his neck and loops it around you with a smile, ignoring the way you pat his wrist as if to tell him don’t bother.

“It’s cold,” he laughs, and you roll your eyes knowing that he mostly does it now because of the sentiment it holds for the both of you.

“Home always feels warm, though,” you answer, and Sakusa only nods at your words, the corners of his own lips stretching into a smile like yours.

“We kind of went off the plan we originally had,” you laugh after some silence passed.

“Do you regret it?” he asks, tone even because he already knows the answer to the very question he posed.

“Of course not,” you smile. “I knew we never planned on having kids of our own, but Kazue’s a blessing.”

“He is,” Sakusa replies, smiling at the thought of his son.

His son, he likes to think of it. The memory of Kazue calling him dad for the first time never fails to make warmth spill from his heart.

Watching the smile bloom wider from his profile, you clasp your hand over his and watch as the light from the winter sun catches the band on his left ring finger.

His ring—the one matching the one on your left remained the same, and while your thoughts of the future are completely opposite to the ones you envisioned from before—you realize that this was the grand plan from the heavens all along.

And there isn’t one thing that you’d change about it.

So when Sakusa looks at you, saying, “We did good,” the happiness in your heart overflows and spills into your cheeks as tears.

“We did,” you respond, the sincerity in your voice assuring Sakusa that you really, truly do mean it.

-

[yaku-soba]

the infinite field of sunflowers (i would follow you anywhere)

༶•┈┈ matsukawa issei x f!reader | angst, fluff

༶•┈┈ general m.list

tags / warnings: implied/referenced child abuse (reader), mostly catharsis for the author, where is my volleyball player who will drive me anywhere i want in the middle of the night and not ask questions that i cannot answer 

word count: 2.2k

summary: home is your heart and your heart is matsukawa issei, who drives you to an impossible field of sunflowers that he’d willed into existence when he was eight, at four in the morning.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“i want to run away,” is the first thing you tell him when issei picks up. and it’s the middle of the night, bordering on dawn, but at the slight hitch of your breath in your throat, shuddering over the line, he’s wide awake. 

“okay,” he says instead of hold on, what happened? - but he knows you’ll only talk about it when you’re ready. so he rolls out of bed, empties the first bag he grabs by holding it upside down haphazardly, and throws in the first few shirts he touches. “can i come too?”

you’re silent on the other end, but issei’s patient. (he’s especially patient with you. he’s used to waiting.) 

“okay,” you say when he’s already padding down the stairs, car keys in hand. 

“i’ll pick you up at our usual place,” he tells you, and scribbles a half-hearted note for whoever wakes up first in the morning. road trip w y/n brb. need the car thanks. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

he pulls up at the playground (it’s dilapidated, the way it has been since you were eight), and you’re sitting on the swing, pushing yourself off almost lazily. the moonlight lands on the harsh line of your clenched jaw and pools beneath your eyes, tracing the tear tracks issei can still see. (his heart hurts, as tender as the quiet slide of knife through fruit flesh). 

“hey,” he says (softly, because you look like you need him to be soft — and he can be soft, if it’s for you). issei doesn’t bother locking the car as he jogs out to meet you, sneakers slipping in the sand. “y/n,” he starts, then realises he doesn’t know what to say to make it better. (he can’t make it better, not unless you tell him what he already knows.) 

so he says, “wanna see sunflowers?”

you look up at him, and it’s almost like he’s looking at you, eight years-old with the print of your father’s hand like a brand on your cheek. the angle’s different, now — he’s taller. (but still useless, still helpless, still only able to watch). 

“where?” you ask, and he would give you everything. he would give you everything, if only you would let him. 

“i was thinking about osaki,” he says, “but i’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

issei watches as you mull over it. “osaki’s okay,” you say after a moment, and take the hand he holds out to help you off the swing. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

you think, as issei keeps his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel, that you are being too cruel — you knew, when you’d called him those hours ago, that he wouldn’t stop you. that he would have come with you. 

you knew, and you’d called him anyway.

(you know that he would do almost anything for you. it’s terrifying and powerful and humbling.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

osaki, and the field of sunflowers that issei shows you, is beautiful. it’s morning — though you don’t know the exact time, because you’d turned your phone off right after calling issei — and the sun is as cruel and breathtaking as you feel. 

“there’s so many of them,” you tell him in wonder, wading into the field with your hands upturned, “i wonder who planted them.” was it you, you want to ask, even if it’s completely ridiculous and impossible, did you clear this field for me when we were eight? did you plant the seeds when we were ten?

issei shrugs, content with leaning against the side of the car he’d arguably stolen from his parents. “does it matter? at least it’s here now,” he answers, and you know that he’s not talking about the miraculous field of sunflowers that you still think he’d planted, or at least willed into existence when he was eight. 

you break his gaze, plucking lightly at the bright yellow petals of the nearest sunflower. “yeah, i guess.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

after himawari hills, issei brings you to a geyser. 

it defies all common sense, to you — everyone knows that everything goes down, because of gravity, but geysers go up. it’s wonderful and miraculous and you’d always thought it was a little fake, until issei had held you by the wrist (gentle, guiding), and walked you down the path and pointed out every little geyser on the way.

(you think issei is a little like a geyser.)

after that it’s katanuma lake, where you buy bentos from a convenience store and eat it by the water. it’s calming, blue skies reflected on bluer waters, and you ask issei if he thinks there are alligators. 

“i’ll throw you to the car,” he says very seriously, “i was almost a setter.” he’s obviously lying, but it makes you laugh. 

“oikawa had better watch out,” you say, and continue to leave your legs stretched out. if fate is going to screw you over, you might as well tempt it back. 

after lunch you wander around aimlessly. issei drives in the general direction of enlightenment and freedom, and doesn’t complain even when you stop him every time you see a vaguely interesting roadside shop or small town. 

you buy mitarashi dango, seaweed for you and the normal ones for issei, and come to the agreement that it’s much better than the ones you’d had in asakusa, outside kaminari-mon when you were twelve (you say it was during the school trip, when the two of you had snuck away from the group; issei says it’s when you’d talked him into running away with you for the day). 

when it hits evening, you wonder aloud if it would be too cold to sleep in the car. 

“we can cuddle,” issei says, wiggling his eyebrows. but when it becomes clear that you’re actually considering it, he puts his foot down and drives to the nearest somewhat-respectable motel, which turns out to be a run-down b&b. there’s only one room, and only one bed, but it’s still warmer and much more comfortable than sleeping in the cramped backseat would have been. 

neither of you mention it - not in the night, and not in the morning - when he sidles up close behind you and pulls you in. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

in the morning and over breakfast, you google tourist attractions on issei’s phone, ignoring the many missed calls and unanswered texts (it’s mostly makki; iwaizumi was put on mute, and oikawa was blocked a long time ago). you wonder if you even have any new notifications. probably not — turning off your phone had just been childish dramatics. it wouldn’t have mattered. 

(you always feel like you matter when you’re with issei.)

“iwashita kokeshi museum”, you say around a mouth full of rice. 

issei nods, finishing his miso soup with a last slurp. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

issei likes driving with one hand on the wheel. you learn that this is when he’s relaxed, when he doesn’t have anything weighing on his mind. 

(you wonder what he’d been thinking off when he’d first picked you up, on the way to the field full of sunflowers.)

you’ve never really spent this long in a car before, and not with issei, but this is nice. this must be how seagulls feel like, you muse, watching issei from the corner of your eyes, with the whole ocean beneath them and a wind that would carry them anywhere. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

you take a gondola at onikobe resort park, and with no one else around it feels like that time you’d gotten onto the ferris wheel with him when you were thirteen, right before your father had banned you from going out after school. 

you don’t remember the fireworks anymore, only the way the light had painted issei in pink and green and gold, the way the steady clunk-clunk-clunk of the ferris wheel winding ever higher had calmed the turbulent riot in your heart. 

the first half of the ferris wheel ride had felt like a geyser. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

after lunch you tell issei that you’re okay to head back, now. it’s sunday, and you don’t want him to miss class tomorrow, because if he has to go for remedial classes he won’t be able to go for volleyball practice. 

“you’re more important,” he tells you. 

“you’re important to me too,” you say, “let’s go home.”

(for him, his family house is home. aoba johsai is home.

you don’t tell him that you’re already home. home is your heart and your heart is matsukawa issei.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

issei drives you home. 

and then he punches your father in the face. 

then he takes you home, where his parents are waiting with hot chocolate. 

at least, that’s what he wishes he could do. in reality, he drives as slowly as he possibly can without coming to a complete standstill, and watches, disgusted with himself (as he always is, as he has been since he was eight and you were eight with a red print on your cheek), as you climb the steps to the obnoxiously huge and empty mansion that he knows you don’t think of as home. 

you knock without hesitation, and when the housekeeper answers, you step in with a polite nod. and he hates that he’s just the guy with an idle car outside of your house. 

he finally drives off when you don’t come barreling out the front door after nearly half an hour. 

(he waits, but you don’t text him.) 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

you don’t come to school on monday, and issei worries, even though he already has a sinking feeling that he knows what’s happened. then he remembers you telling him that you’re supposed to show up at one of your father’s business parties on monday night (and dance fancy dances with guys that aren’t him, in dresses that he knows you will probably find uncomfortable), and figures that a bastard so concerned with appearances wouldn’t dare lay a hand on his trophy daughter. 

(where it can be seen, at least.)

he won’t risk it, issei tells himself, if only for his own peace of mind. 

he texts you anyway. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

you don’t reply, not even after monday night. he drives to your house and waits outside until your father calls the police, and then he comes back on foot. 

he contemplates the structural integrity of the huge tree that is not quite huge enough to reach the window of your bedroom. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

you don’t text him back, but he wakes with a start a few nights later when you crawl into his room through the window. and land right on top of him, because his bed is beneath the window. which means you’re on top of him. he’s fine, this is fine. 

“y/n,” his voice cracks, and he’s so immeasurably lost, because this is exactly the kind of dream he should not be dreaming about his best friend, “what?” 

“hi issei,” you say, and you sound so strongly of relief, of freedom, that he wishes this wasn’t a dream. then you put your hands on his cheeks, and he realises - it’s warm. you’re warm. 

this isn’t a dream.

“y/n,” he tries to pull away, but you refuse to let him go (like the octopus he’d found on the beach when you were fourteen, the one he’d insisted on showing you only for you to ask him if octopus sushi was tasty), so he settles for running his hands up your arms gently (in worry). “y/n, are you okay?” 

(issei is so beautiful like this. he could light a thousand cities with his kindness, but you’re selfish, you’ve always had everything you’ve ever wanted except a home. 

you want issei to be your home.)

you laugh, and issei’s brow furrows a little more at that. 

“i’m the best i’ve ever been,” you say, still shaking with laughter, “issei, won’t you run away with me?” 

under the slanting moonlight, he sees a healing bruise on your cheekbone. there are scratches on your arms that he doesn’t think are from papercuts. 

“just for the day,” you continue, and he would give you everything-

“and then we’ll come back, and then my uncle’s taking my father to court, and he says i can sleepover with friends if i want to until it’s all settled.”

you smile, and it tastes like freedom, like the air that morning on the infinite field of sunflowers that your best friend had willed into existence (for you) when he was eight. “issei, i’m tired of running from home. won’t you run away with me?”

and issei would give you everything, so of course he says, “wanna see tokyo? maybe the mitarashi dango there has gotten better.” 

you brush your thumb over his cheek, tracing the path of moolight. “sure,” you tell him, “let’s stay in a luxury hotel this time - i’ve got my dad’s card.” sure enough, you pull something out of your pocket, and it glints like revenge, a ticket to freedom. 

he would give you everything, and you’re selfish, so you’ll let him. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

his parents wake to another note on the dining table. tokyo with y/n, it says, brb. thanks for the car. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

a/n: as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[starrysamu]

take (me) out. 

miya osamu x f!reader.

wc: 2.2k, fluff.

how you go from being a regular at onigiri miya to regularly grabbing takeout for you and the restaurant owner. 

for @keiyoomi​, happy holidays dear! sorry it’s a little late, but i hope you can enjoy it some. much love, your hqc secret santa ♡ 

“let me buy you a meal.” 

osamu presses his palms to the table as he leans forward. the 30 inch table hitting your thighs is big enough to seat four and yet it’s a barrier that dissolves as soon as his nose is less than a few inches away from yours. 

he peers at you through his eyelashes. “come on. a treat for my favorite customer.” his voice is all things low and enticing, luring you in like a siren.  

your eyes are threatening to roll but they can’t seem to tear away from him. one way or another, you manage to rasp out, “i’ll think about it.” 

he’s far too close. too close, so much that you think he’ll be able to hear your pulse skyrocket. yeah, the food is amazing, but you stick around for the sort-of-friend and extremely attractive owner who’s got you trapped in his clutches.   

the corner of his lips curve up. “so it’s a date then?” 

“definitely not,” you huff, hiking your bag over your shoulder. your voice shakes a little and you’re trying your best not to let it show that your heart is doing jumping jacks and your stomach is flipping over like a pancake. 

it’s been almost 10 minutes since you told yourself you’d leave but your feet are practically shackled to the ground. it's also been 10 minutes since the place closed, leaving only you, the restaurant owner, and the poor part timer he hired a few weeks ago behind. 

there’s an odd sense of deja vu that consumes you. the two of you have definitely been in this position before, just without the fresh faced high schooler hanging around the back. 

“think about it,” osamu says, standing up straight. you straighten your back with him, forgetting how tall he was. curse his blessed genes.  

but while you’re busy cursing those divine genes (jeans?) of his, you do think about it. the line between friendship and dating is thin, and you’ve always thought you’d already crossed that point with him - that you learned too much about each other in just a few short weeks, crumbling any sort of potential to date him. 

you can’t help imagining it nonetheless - the fluff, the slice of life. it’s just too ideal, and you have no choice but to imagine since it’s not actually panning out. 

your lips tighten as you squint at him. he stacks his bowls up and it sounds like the world’s saddest song, truth be told. 

is he the friends to lovers type? 

you sigh heavily and set your bag back down, walking back to the table. “fine, yeah,” you mumble, heat rushing to your cheeks. “tomorrow at 7. the ramen place across town?” 

he grins loosely and you swear the corners of his eyes literally twinkle. how’s that even possible?

“you’re here early.” 

you shift on the balls of your feet and click your phone. “traffic was light.”

a half truth, half lie. it just feels like you’ve been injected with adrenaline and cortisol and you’re ready to bounce off of every wall known to mankind with how nervous you are.   

you’re fine. 

osamu hums and slips his hands in his pockets. you blink at him for a moment. what if he’s just the friends to friends type? you’ve always hated dtr, but what if he really is just treating his favorite customer? 

“what’re you looking at? do i have something on my face?” 

“tch.” you roll your lips under your teeth and swallow your smile. “you look out of your element.” you can’t deny that the black t-shirt suits him well enough, but this baby blue linen button down is a gift from the gods themselves. 

“next time i’ll grab that perfume,” he jokes sarcastically, “the one that smells like rice. that’ll make you remember how hard i work.” 

fighting your smile this time is a lot more painful. “i never said anything about how you slack off at work,” you lilt. “your poor part timer can attest to that.”  

he pokes the temple of your head and you laugh as you push the double doors to the restaurant. the bells jingle and you feel completely warm, inside and out.  

the receptionist seats you at a booth next to a window adorned with fake flowers. what kind of cottagecore fantasy is this? 

you glance at osamu, working on making a judgement of the place himself. is he into cottagecore? there’s not a moment to spare as your eyes rake him up and down - he’s definitely light academia. maybe dark academia, even. 

the booth feels stuffy with just you and osamu there. you clasp your fingers together under the table and goosebumps travel up your skin. 

a pretty twenty-something year old slips your menus on the table and osamu flashes her an easy smile, like he’s a model for hollister or something. your eyes grow wide for a minute and you glance back and forth between osamu and the waitress. 

you’re not even sure what they’ve said to each other because your mind is all white static. and when she says, “let me know if you need anything,” to osamu and osamu only, it feels like you’re the one who’s figured out e=mc2 instead of albert einstein. 

“why are you flirting with the waitress?” you whisper when she’s out of earshot. you’re not even sure what you feel, but you think your soul has completely left your body. 

you’ve always hated this trope too. 

he takes a sip of his drink and for a split second, you can see him poorly trying to hide a laugh. “who else should i be flirting with?” he finally deadpans. “you? you said this wasn’t a date.” 

“oh, so now you’re trying to get hung up on technicalities.” you lean back in your seat and fold your arms over your chest. 

osamu rests an elbow on the table and puts his hand on his chin. “so, are we having a date then?” 

there’s that indescribable ambivalence that floods you once again as soon as you look him in the eye. his eyes are unchanging - they look at you like they’ve always looked at you since you regularly showed up to his restaurant, since you became his friend, and since you accidentally stayed just a little too late after his restaurant closed.  

you toss your straw wrapper at him and avert your gaze back to your lap. “definitely not.” 

the door handle feels cold as you twist it. so it’s a friends to friends type of story? that’s fine. not the way you wanted it to pan out, but at least the date was good for one thing. osamu’s as good a friend as he probably is a partner. 

you sigh. you’re doing a shit job of convincing yourself, that’s for sure.  

“welcome in - ”

osamu’s grin wavers and then falls into a simple smile, like he’s been waiting for you. you wish your heart would just do the one job it has: beat normally and consistently. yet every time you look at him, it wants to participate in a ballet competition or something so ridiculous to the point where your lungs are struggling to keep up. 

“look what the cat dragged in,” he says, walking up to you. “i was wondering if you were coming today or not.” 

he’s back to wearing his black t-shirt and nothing has felt more familiar to you. 

“why wouldn’t i?” you test. you’re not even sure what you’re looking for by asking him, but you’ll consider even a response as the slightest win. 

he gauges you for a moment. “i thought you might’ve left me for the place across town.” 

and now you pray for your mind to do its job: objectively process and synthesize information. instead, you fixate on how he’s used the word ‘me’ instead of ‘us,’ as any owner would when he’s talking about a customer. 

“i would never,” you say breezily. “this place is the one and only for me.” 

he does nothing to hide his smile. “and what about me?” 

your brows shoot up the same way your pulse does, as if it already didn’t feel like you were running a marathon. “what about you?” 

you’re playing a dangerous game and toying along the line of dense, but maybe you’re better off establishing boundaries before you go into v-fib. 

he sets his tray down and slips his hands into the apron loosely tied around his waist. in any other world, you’d think it would be impossible for an apron to accentuate his broad shoulders, but this world seems to defy you day in and day out. 

there’s a sharp inhale as he leans against the table. for a moment you think he’s going to follow with, ‘when am i going to be your one and only?’ but you breathe in relief when all he says is, “this place is always here for you.” 

even that sends you hurtling down a cascade of different feelings, though. each conversation with osamu seems to be a different boss battle you don’t know how to defeat. 

“thank you,” you finally say curtly, setting your things down. "what’s the special for today?” 

he grins. “you can have me, or i guess i can make you some food.” 

just when you think you’ve dodged him, he comes back at you, swinging at full force. 

“okay, fine.” 

osamu’s brows arch as he watches you stack a few bowls up. 

“i’ll buy you a meal,” you sigh, looking up at him. “sure, maybe that high schooler’s been slipping me a boxed lunch every time i swing by before work.” 

you’re really just trying to catch osamu before you start your monotonous days at the office, but he’s always holed up in the back. honestly, you’re there more than you’d like considering you swing by in the evenings now too.  

“do you know how heartbreaking it was for me to hear my favorite customer’s been stealing from me?” he says dramatically. 

“you should really talk to that kid in the back,” you mumble, looking away from him. “i always thought you allowed it.” 

he pokes your head and you roll back on your heels. “i don’t even give my brother free food.” 

“stingy,” you huff, looking away from him. you’re conflicted between guilt and disappointment - clearly, this friends to friends storyline is a little more than you can handle. 

you fight the urge to gasp to yourself. what if it’s an unrequited love? 

he grabs the tray full of stacked dishes as he smiles at you, heading to the back. you watch as his biceps peek out from underneath the sleeves of his fitted shirt and you think that maybe you should save the drooling for the food and the food only. 

he sticks his head out from the back. “what’re you doing right now?” 

you look around the empty restaurant. “it’s 10 pm and i’m here, does it look like i’m doing anything important?” 

“you wanna try something i’m adding to the menu?” 

your eyes light up like a five year old on christmas morning. “so you’re giving me free food then?” 

he pretends to think about it for a minute. “only if you’ll take me out tomorrow.” 

you agree as if you hadn’t been thinking about it all along. 

osamu leans back in his seat as he takes a swing from his bottle. “this is what you meant by taking me out tonight?” 

“come on,” you say. the cocktail against your lips is especially sweet with osamu sitting next to you. 

he leans in towards you. you’re surprised that you no longer feel like you’re running a marathon, but your muscles still feel sore, like you’ve got knots everywhere that you can’t seem to untie. 

“i guess i’ll let it slide this time,” he teases gently. “you owe me food though.” 

you pucker your lips. “i guess i’ll spare some time for you.” 

“you should, considering you stole all that food from me.” 

“it was only two lunches,” you whine, holding up two fingers for added effect. “consider it your repayment for all those evenings i helped you out.” 

he laughs and the dull ache in your chest tightens. mutual pining would be the most ideal, but right now you’re stuck on unrequited love. you’ve long ditched friends to friends because only god knows you can’t seem to keep yourself together around the restaurant owner. 

but when he says, “you know, i’d been wanting to ask you out for forever,” you feel the gears click into place. “and not as my favorite customer.” 

you choke on the martini. why won’t it go down as easy as the words coming out of his lips? 

his eyes crinkle as your vision blurs. maybe you are running a marathon when you’re next to him, because you can’t ever seem to catch a break. the dim lighting of the bar does nothing to slow your pulse either, with almost every nerve running haywire. 

“and i know we just talked about you buying me food again,” he says slowly, “so would you like to come by tomorrow night?” 

if a bar was the secret to this recipe, you would’ve brought him much sooner. “i should’ve bought you a beer a million years ago then,” you mumble into your drink. you look at him through the corners of yours to see him smiling expectantly at you. “but i think i’ll take you up on that offer.”  

and that’s how your friends to lovers, mutual pining storyline has you bringing takeout to his apartment after he’s had a long day at work. maybe you’ll even get to explore ‘and then there was only one bed,’ but you’ll take it one bit at a time.  

[mimi-cee-hq]

A Glimpse of Yellow: Suna x f!reader - Chapter 5

« Chapter 1 | ‹ Chapter 4 | Masterlist

Read on AO3

Relationships: Suna x f!reader, mostly platonic!Inarizaki x f!reader (relationships in the tags may be romantic or platonic)

Summary:

Despite being Atsumu's best friend, you barely knew his aloof and nonchalant teammate. Suna only made the occasional comment on the twins' antics when you were around.

So when you needed a way to escape from the twins' interrogations –including one about your longtime crush because you were definitely over him– Suna offered to walk with you after school to provide a way out. This raised a few eyebrows including yours.

Things got even stranger when the twins assumed you were dating Suna. And for some reason, he went along with it.

Genre, etc.: fluff, romance, friendship, getting together, fake dating, slow burn, acquaintances to friends to lovers, canon compliant, eventual angst but it's the shoujo type

Warnings: none

Words: 2.3k

*****

"No Miyas today?"

"No, not today," you replied with a laugh. Suna and you stood in front of the cash register of the soba restaurant you frequented. You leaned onto the ebony counter, resting your arm on it.

"So you're here with your boyfriend instead?" the restaurant owner, Tsukimori, teased, her eyes twinkling.

You froze, wondering if she had heard the conversation the last time you were here. How far did you have to go to keep up this charade? You glanced over at Suna only to see him covering his smirk with the back of his hand.

A week had gone by since training camp and the two of you continued your walks after school. The twins never asked where you were going anymore, so this fake dating thing was working. You were relieved, but now you started to wonder if it was a bit silly to keep up with this act.

After that setting practice with Suna at training camp, you wondered if you should try talking to Atsumu again. You felt better after Suna's off-handed comment that reminded you it was okay to not be as ambitious as Atsumu. You smirked, imagining that if Suna had told Atsumu he didn't care about how good his sets were, he would have been offended.

You glanced over at Suna, his hand on the counter next to a potted plant and tip jar. You recalled his spiking range and how powerful his hits were. Suna had mentioned that he was scouted during your last walk together. But you couldn't shake off the feeling that he wasn't completely happy about that.

Tsukimori came back to place two cold, purple drinks on the counter; taro bubble tea was Karin's favourite.

"Pfft," Suna made a noise next to you.

You raised an eyebrow at him, but he shifted his eyes away, pretending nothing had happened. As you pulled off your backpack, you saw a gentle smile on his lips but his brows were creased.

"Your boyfriend already paid for you," Tsukimori said, declining your card.

Your eyes shot open. "What?" you said, turning to Suna. "Why did you pay for that?"

"Apparently it's because I'm your boyfriend," he said with a shrug.

You narrowed your eyes at him. You couldn't say anything because at this rate the owner might spill it to the twins.

You scratched your forehead. Those drinks were for you and Karin since you promised to get her some. What were you going to do now when it was supposed to be your treat for her?

You dug your hand in the pocket of your bag, only to pull out a few coins. You sighed, thinking this would have been a good time to have cash on hand.

You shoved the coins into Suna's hand. "Here! Take this for now."

Suna stared at his hand before complying, stuffing the coins into his pocket.

Tsukimori handed a couple of straws to Suna. "You know," she said, "I always thought you'd end up with one of the twins."

You scrunched your nose and shook your head. "Nope," you replied. "Nope. I'm like the sister they never had. Besides, they've seen how er… obsessed I could be when I like someone."

She laughed and said, "Well, have fun on your date."

You took a peek at Suna as your cheeks heated up. You could see why she'd assume it was a date.

The two of you left the clay-roofed building, walking past the ginkgo tree. After walking a few blocks, you turned the corner and your eyes skimmed over the bike rack across the road. At a distance, you could see the row of picnic tables under the slate grey shelters. A preschooler squealed, standing on the wooden playground before gliding down the red plastic slide.

You started to check for cars before crossing the street, but Suna's voice caught your attention.

"Hey," he said in a low mutter. "How would you feel if you had to move away from the twins?"

You raised your brows, but because he looked at you straight in the eye to show he was serious, you decided to answer him.

Scratching your cheek, you replied, "I think... it would feel like someone cut off my arm."

Suna blinked at you a couple of times.

"Hold on," you retracted your statement. "Maybe not quite like that." You rubbed your chin. "It would feel like that but maybe with the ability to regrow my arm?"

Suna smirked at you struggling to find your words.

"Okay so basically it would hurt a lot but I'd eventually get over it… I think," you finally explained.

Pfft. Suna covered his mouth with hand, turning away to hide his laugh.

You groaned, telling him to forget all of that.

Turning towards the park, your eyes widened when you glanced back at the bike rack, spotting a purple framed bicycle.

"Oh! Karin is here already." After checking your phone, you exclaimed, "Shoot! That took longer than expected."

You were about to cross the road but stopped after a couple of steps.

"Did you wanna come?" you asked Suna.

"No."

You pursed your lips. "Does he not like parks or something?" You paused, realizing you were making assumptions again. "No, all he said was no," you told yourself. "Just leave it at that."

After Suna left to go home, you grinned, clutching the two drinks in your hands.

Crossing the road, you saw a girl in a yellow shirt and black shorts at a distance, jumping up and down and animatedly waving her arms at you. She knew you saw her, but you pretended to walk away with her drink in hand.

"Y/n-nee-san!!! Where are you going??" she yelled at you, pouting.

You smirked at her before finally making your way to the picnic tables.

"Ahh... This feels so nice," commented Karin as she slurped up her chilled drink.

"Do your teeth still hurt?" you asked

"Mmhmm," she nodded with a puffy pout.

Karin messaged you yesterday, complaining how much her teeth hurt after her braces were tightened, so you promised to get some cool bubble tea to help with the pain.

"Are you sure you still want to practice today?" you asked.

Karin nodded her head, her dark and wavy ponytail bouncing. She then gave you a wide grin; her narrow eyes turned into crescents.

"Okay," you told her. "Let's do something that's not as intensive though, just in case. Maybe we'll work on your serves again." You nudged her before saying, "Let's see if you'll get it over the net today."

Karin took out the volleyball you gave her from her backpack before you both made your way to the sand-filled court.

"Is that a new t-shirt?" you asked her.

Karin tilted her head down to the logo of her yellow gym shirt. "It's not new at all!" she exclaimed, laughing. "This is part of my gym uniform from my last school."

You smiled. That colour suited her. Your school's gym clothes were plain black and white.

Karin was able to serve the ball over the net a couple of times. Afterwards, you taught her the basics of receiving but weren't quite finished when it was nearing dinner time. The sky was still bright and you thought it was odd that your time together felt shorter than usual.

"It's because you took longer to get here," Karin told you. "At least, this past week."

You sorted through your brain to recall the last few days after school. On Tuesday, you had volleyball practice, but on the other days, you walked with Suna to the park. Your eyes grew when you realized why you've been late.

"Have I been walking slower?"

You pressed your lips together, quickly putting that thought to the back of your mind.

*****

"What? You're inviting Suna?" you asked.

"Yeah," said Atsumu. "Why not? I thought you'd want me to."

You bit your lower lip since you were worried that Atsumu might notice something, that he might catch on that you're not actually dating. If the three of you were studying together, you thought that Atsumu was bound to pick something up.

"Are you sure you won't get distracted?" you asked him.

"Yeah."

He lied.

You sat across from him at his kitchen table. Atsumu chatted away without a care in the world even when Suna was mostly unresponsive. You placed your hand on your forehead, knowing this would happen.

Osamu was in his room, away from all of the yapping. Atsumu had gotten so used to doing homework with you that he would get distracted whenever he was alone or with someone else. Adding Suna to the mix didn't change the result.

Atsumu got a glass of water for himself and brought one over to you as well. But when you looked up at him, you saw a smidge of a blueish purple.

"What happened to your hand?" you asked Atsumu.

He examined it to figure out what you were talking about. "Oh this?" he said, showing you the heel of his palm. "I must have hit the ball wrong yesterday."

"Oh. From volleyball," you thought to yourself. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked."

"It kind of hurts when I'm serving, but it's not too bad," he continued. "Oh!”–his eyes lit up–"I should really teach you how to do a jump serve!"

"No," you mentally answered, a frown forming on your lips. "I really don't want you to." You lowered your eyes and started to fiddle with the hem of your shirt.

"So you want to teach her how to hit a home run?" Suna commented out of nowhere.

Atsumu and you turned your heads to see Suna scribbling an answer on his worksheet, his eyes still on his paper.

"Ha?" exclaimed Atsumu.

"You hit three serves on the basketball net," Suna replied nonchalantly, finally looking up from his homework. "Which sport are you playing again?"

"As if your serves are any better, Mister 'I'll just lob it over the net.'" Atsumu yelled back. "You might as well do an underhand serve!"

"You wouldn't receive it anyway."

"That's because I'm a setter you idiot!"

"Pfft." Your laugh finally slipped out.

"Why the heck are you laughing?" Atsumu yelled, pointing a finger directly at you.

That just made you shake more from laughter as Atsumu's lips twisted into a frown. You were able to calm down after a minute or two.

"Hey, Atsumu," you told him.

"Yeah?"

You looked down at the hands on your lap. After taking a breath, you put on a slight smile.

"I don't think I want you to teach me right now," you told him. "I... I don't think I'm emotionally ready for you to critique me yet."

He blinked a few times before heaving a sigh and rubbing the back of his head.

"Alright."

"What?"

"I said alright! What more do you want?" he snapped back.

Your shoulders relaxed and you released your breath. He was trying. You looked back down at your homework, now with a small smile on your lips.

"Ugh. Could you not do that in front of me, Suna?" Atsumu groaned.

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at Suna before you both stared back at Atsumu.

"He's going all googly eyed at you as if he wants to kiss you."

You furrowed your brows, glancing at Suna, who simply stared back at Atsumu with a neutral expression.

"What? He looked like he wanted to kiss me?" you wondered. "What does that even look like?"

"Don't worry," Suna responded, making eye contact with you. "I don't want to kiss you."

You blinked a couple of times before your eyes caught his smirk.

"Oh really. Who'd want to kiss you anyway."

"You mean you don't?" he said with a sly smile.

"Nope."

"Ughhh. I shouldn't have suggested for Suna to come," Atsumu complained, grabbing his hair with both of his hands.

You smirked and began to look over your homework questions. As you picked up the worksheet, you placed a hand on the table, drawing little circles with your finger.

Atsumu continued to stare at you. "You must really like him."

"What?" You gave him a weird look. "No I don't!"

"Pfft." Now it was Suna's turn to hide a laugh.

"Wait," you thought to yourself. "We're supposed to be dating." You wanted to slap yourself.

"Stop lying!" Atsumu exclaimed, directing a finger at you again. "You're doing the same thing as before!"

"What are you talking about?" you snapped back.

Suna chuckled a bit before reaching over to place his arm on the back of your chair. You leaned back and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at Atsumu.

"You two have a weird way of flirting with each other," he commented.

You and Suna looked at each other, smirking at the irony of the situation.

"I told you we didn't need to do much," said Suna.

You had to laugh at that because he was right. For some weird reason, you didn't have to worry about getting caught faking this relationship.

The three of you returned to your worksheets, finally getting some work done. Suna finished first so he laid on the couch with his phone in hand. You and Atsumu had a few more questions left.

You glanced up at Atsumu who was biting his lip as he thought through the problem he was on. You started to wonder if maybe you didn't need to avoid him anymore now that he was trying. Maybe you didn't need to lie to him anymore and things could go back to normal.

"It's because you took longer to get here," Karin told you. "At least, this past week."

Your shoulders dropped a little and you slouched in your chair. "Yeah, things could go back to normal," you thought to yourself as you avoided looking at the couch.

*****

Chapter 6 ›

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[amjustagirl]

Best friends to lovers with Tsukishima - 615 words of fluff 

“Your mother called again.”

Tsukishima just hums in acknowledgement, doesn’t even bother looking up from his emails. You huff an indignant breath through your nose, reach over to yank the wire to pull an earbud from his ear. 

“You’re not even going to ask me why she called?”

His eyes curve into half-moons, irritation washing over his features. “I’m going to visit her this weekend already. She can tell me what she wants then. If it’s truly important she’d drop me a text if I don’t call back.”

“Kei!” you cry, scandalised. “That’s your mom.”

He rolls his eyes, tugging his ear bud away from you. 

“Look, she probably called to talk about three things.” He raises a finger. “To make sure I’m eating and sleeping well - I’m not a child, I know how to take care of myself”. He raises another finger. “To remind me that I’m due home this weekend, which I already bought train tickets for”, he wriggles a third finger - “and to nag me to find a girlfriend, which is never going to happen, so she can forget about that.”

“Did I miss anything out?” 

He didn’t - these are exactly the things his mother chattered your ear off about this morning when he was out at work, and his smirk when you slump in defeat infuriates you, makes you want to tease him and wipe that satisfied expression off his face.

“Well, she did mention about setting you up on a blind date with some neighbour’s daughter -” 

“Never going to happen” he interrupts dismissively. “She should know by now to leave me alone, I’m busy.”

He is busy juggling work at the Sendai City Museum whilst fighting to maintain his spot as a starting middle blocker on the Sendai Frogs, balancing both his obsession with dinosaur bones with his no longer secret love for volleyball. You knew this when you met him in university, drawn into his orbit by Yamaguchi and Yachi, an unwitting addition to their trio once the sunny duo started dating, a fact that his mother has lamented about to you so many times after you’ve moved in with him and Yamaguchi after university. 

“You’re going to be left old and bitter and lonely if you don’t put yourself out there while you’re still young”, you tease. 

“I’m already old and bitter”, he deadpans. “And as if I’d ever be lonely with you and Yamguchi pestering me for the rest of my life.”

“I should occupy myself by going on more dates then”, you muse, tapping your chin. “That way I won’t be home so much to bother you.”

“Please don’t”, he snaps immediately. “Your taste in men is awful. I’ve had enough of you moping on the sofa when your dates don’t work out, it spoils my mood.” 

“Aww Kei”, you sing song, leaning over to flick his nose. “Are you jealous?” 

He doesn’t reply, swivelling his chair sharply back to his laptop, his typing increasing in volume and frequency. You know him well enough to recognise his tells. He’s frustrated - why? 

“Tsukki - “

“Look - you could do so much better, okay?” He states plainly, the tips of his ears turning pink. “You deserve better than those lying, cheating scumbugs you’ve been stupid enough to waste your time on and I don’t understand how you can’t see what’s before your very eyes, you blind bat.”

Typical Tsukki. You have to sieve through insults and complaints to unearth what he truly means, read between the lines to figure out how he truly feels. You’ve never thought you’d ever have a chance with your best friend, assuming he’d only see you as a friend and nothing more. 

You’re wrong. 

“Kei”, you say softly. “Would you say my taste in men is still awful if I ask you out instead?” 

He stops typing. 

“Maybe”, he says, trying to remain nonchalant, as he shoots you a shy smile. 

a/n: written for @kohi-zeri​, hope you enjoy it bb!!!!

[bokutosworld]

unexpected visit | sakusa k. 

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader word count, genre: 1.3k words, family au, fluff. warning: pregnancy mention.  summary: what was supposed to be an ordinary training day became a day full of surprises when sakusa’s little girl came running through the gym doors.

It’s almost lunchtime when the doors to the MSBY training gym opens and a shrill, cheery shout takes the attention of the players away from the practice match. 

“Papa!” The source of the voice comes running inside, her little feet taking her from across the door to the middle of the court where Sakusa was standing dumbfounded. His eyes are blown wide and it wasn’t until Atsumu chuckles and nudges his shoulder that he comes back to reality and catches his daughter in his arms. 

Shiomi’s eyes are sparkling with delight and her smile is as bright as the sun that the mere sight of it is enough to rid Kiyoomi of his exhaustion. He finds himself letting out his own chuckle, wiping her face of sweat and brushing away few strands of hair that have fallen astray on her face. 

“What are you doing here? Where’s your Mom?” 

As if on cue, heavy footsteps echo in the gym, you stop by the doors, panting as you’ve just tried to keep up with your energetic child. You fix your stance, ready to scold Shiomi who was now nuzzled close to your husband’s chest when Bokuto and Hinata come to your side. They help take the heavy bag slung on your shoulders and lead you towards a bench. 

Your husband catches the piercing look in your eyes and turns to his daughter, “What did you do?”

But when she lets out an innocent grin and her pleading eyes, Sakusa could not find it in himself anymore to get mad at her.

— 

Due to the sudden but welcome interruption, the coaches decided to let the team have an early break. The players dispersed, some sprawled out on the floor and others exiting the venue to head towards the cafeteria. 

However, much to Sakusa’s dismay, his three buddies—Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata—insisted on tagging along on his supposed alone time with his family. Shiomi, on the other hand, was very excited to play and spend time with her uncles. In fact, the four-year-old was very much taken with the setter who always seemed to entertain her and shower her with affection. 

The group of you settled on having lunch by the park just across the gym. The boys were surprised by your preparedness, having brought a blanket which you laid on the grass and took out different bento boxes. 

As the boys gasped in awe of the food sitting right before their eyes, you apologized, “I don’t know if I made enough. We just came here on a whim because someone,” your eyes narrowed at your girl who only hid behind Atsumu. “Was crying so much and wanted to go see her father. I just used whatever’s left in our refrigerator, I hope this is okay.” 

Bokuto clapped his hands and said a quick thank you, “Don’t sweat it, Sakusa-san. This is more than enough.” 

“Besides, we also have our own lunch. We’ll just have a taste of some,” Hinata added and the boys proceeded to eat. 

You felt a hand slide around your waist, pulling you close and before you knew it, you were leaning on Sakusa’s side. He presses a kiss on your temple, “Thanks for this.” 

“No problem.” 

—

The whole lunch break passed by in a blink of an eye. Shiomi truly enjoyed the presence of her three uncles who indulged her childish stories. Atsumu kept her close by, placing her on his lap as she talked about the cartoon that she watched that morning. Bokuto and Hinata were listening intently, occasionally making her double over in laughter with their jokes. 

Meanwhile, you and your husband were cuddling and taking shade under the tree. The two of you sat in silence, with Kiyoomi’s arms wrapped around you and his hand caressing your arm was making you sleepy. The soft breeze from the wind makes you slightly shiver and Kiyoomi notices this. 

“Are you cold?” 

“What do you think,” you playfully retort. 

You catch the way his eyes crinkle in amusement at your reply. He shakes his head, “And you wonder where our kid gets her sarcastic side.” 

“I hate you.” 

He hums, “You love me.” In a rare display of public affection, he tilts your face toward his, pulling you close to him and leaning until his lips are only few centimeters away from yours. 

Only then, Shiomi comes tumbling in to Sakusa’s lap. 

“Papa, let’s go! Uncle Atsumu says it’s time for practice again!” 

Sakusa groans, sending a glare towards Atsumu who only responded with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he stands up and takes Shiomi by her hand. “Why don’t you go ahead with them? I’ll help Mommy with the bags.” 

She pouts and pretends to think it over a minute before bouncing on her heels and going to Atsumu’s side. 

You snicker, “I swear, Shiomi only listens to you. It’s clear that you’re her favorite parent.” 

Sakusa is taking the lunch boxes and placing them neatly inside the eco-bag. “Can’t beat Atsumu, though. If he offered to take her away for the weekend, I’m sure Shiomi will go with him. No questions asked.” 

“Hm, that wouldn’t be so bad though.” You easily slip your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze before leaving the park. “We could ask Atsumu to babysit for one weekend, and we could, you know.” You send a teasing smirk his way and he catches on, tugging you closer by the waist.

“Oh? I like the sound of that.” 

The two of you continue walk in sync, a few steps behind Atsumu, Bokuto, and Hinata who were all taking turns holding Shiomi’s hand. You smiled at the sight, thankful that Kiyoomi’s friends adored your daughter. 

You jump in surprise when you feel a hand on your stomach. Stopping in your tracks, you watch Sakusa feel for your tiny bump. 

“You shouldn’t tire yourself out anymore,” he worries, remembering how disheveled you look earlier when you appeared in the gym. “It’s bad for you and the baby.” 

It was honestly cute and touching how Sakusa often fusses over you over the littlest things. Your heart warms thinking about how he has been the greatest husband when you were pregnant with Shiomi. Not once did he take his eyes off you, making sure that you didn’t work as hard, and always tried his best to give in to your cravings. When Shiomi was born, Sakusa was over the moon and it amazed you how he doted on and cared for her. 

And with a second child on the way, you could only look forward to see how else Sakusa would exceed your expectations. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” you place your hand on top of his. “But it wasn’t just Shiomi who wanted to see you today, you know.” Reaching inside your bag, you pull out a familiar brown envelope. Sakusa looks at you expectantly, his eyes glued to the paper you were holding. 

“I went to the doctor yesterday and got an ultrasound.” He gasps and turns the paper over his hands, scanning over the sonogram. “We’re having a boy.” 

Sakusa feels warm all over. And he’s embracing you, careful as he wraps his arms around your fragile body, and catches your lips with his. You feel him smile in the kiss and you melt further in to his touch. 

When he breaks away, he leans his forehead on yours, whispering the words you’ve heard hundreds of times but it were words that you will never get tired of, 

“I love you. Always.” 

[xrux]

I’ll take care of you / Kuroo Tetsurou ♡

when you feel like the universe is punishing you for all your poorly made choices, your boss sweeps in and comforts you through these trying times

♥︎ pairing ⋮ tender/loving/soft dom! + boss!kuroo x f!reader

♥︎ genre ⋮ smut, hurt/comfort, porn with feelings

♥︎ warning/s ⋮ dubcon (superior x subordinate), pet names, slight overstim, office sex, unprotected sex, cheating (mentions of getting cheated on)

♥︎ wc ⋮ 1.9k

♥︎ a/n ⋮ being sad n horny is a big mood so (?) (& how this came out first before my series fics and other wips, I don’t even know) side: I’ll make a proper taglist after I finish my series x

“___? ___!” The sound of the presenter’s voice snapped you out of your daze. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your current whereabouts, of the cold stare of a dozen heads boring into your skull, and of the meeting at hand. Clenching onto the ballpoint pen and notepad in your hands, you felt weak in the knees from where you stood, just a few steps away from the conference table.

“Are you with us?” with a raised brow, she followed up.

“Y-yes, I’m—”

“I must’ve overworked her today, my bad. Please proceed,” your boss cut you off, and he didn’t even need to turn from his seat for you to know he wore his ever pleasant smile as he answered in your stead. You’d be sure to thank him but knowing him, you know that also meant you owed him one.

Your superior’s face pulled into a scowl at Kuroo’s intervention and you tried to ground yourself by shaking your head and blinking away the tears that almost welled up in your musing. Far too late did you realize that you probably should’ve called in sick instead. Because you were, in fact, sick—sick to the gut even though it had been days since you found out about your boyfriend, nay, ex-boyfriend’s affair.

...

The meeting pressed on, feeling torturously longer than it actually is. And rightfully so. To you, this served as the beginning of your punishment for being unable to keep your emotions at bay and for all the wrong decisions you’ve made leading up to this point.

When the meeting ended and your superior dismissed everyone, she caught up with you in the hallway.

“It would be in your best interest to not let any personal feelings get in the way of work, ___” she stressed, after apparently having caught wind of the cause of your dysfunction.

She was about to continue but was deliberately interrupted by a snicker that came from behind you.

The source of the voice laid a hand on top of your shoulder, drawing both your and your superior’s attention to his towering figure.

“Actually, it would be in your best interest to let me deal with my own assistant from now on,” he said as he squeezed your shoulder. For the second time today, Kuroo came to your rescue.

Kuroo telling her upfront not to mess with you was something she had no right to challenge and with that, she excused herself.

“___, my office, now,” he commanded.

…

“Well, kitten. Wanna tell me what that was about?” He locked the door and shut the blinds, something you learned over time that he did only when he absolutely did not want to be disturbed. He sat on his desk and leaned back with a hand resting on his thigh.

“Am I — uhm... in trouble, sir?”

“It depends. You haven’t been your usual self for the past few days. I’m just a little worried.”

His stern look was unsettling and it betrayed the concern implied in his statement. Your silence didn’t help ease the tension either. Still, you could always be certain that he means well and you really couldn’t hide anything from him.

“You know you can trust me, right?” he probed.

Your eyes refused to meet his, afraid he would get disappointed in you for your poor judgment. But this was Kuroo. You have never known him to be judgemental and you at least owed him this much for looking out for you.

“I... met the girl my boyfriend was having an affair with,” you muttered, clearing your throat as an attempt to relieve the prickling sensation at the back of your throat.

“Some part of me already knew. But I didn’t take it well. Neither did he, so h-he —” your breath hitched and you hadn’t noticed when you started to well up but when you came to, you were already crying. “He broke it off.”

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand as you heard his footsteps approaching you. You flinched when you felt an arm wrapping around you but you didn’t escape your boss’s hold, even as he pressed you against him. He patted your head, moving his hand in slow soothing strokes as he shushed you.

He sighed, “oh, kitten. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve that at all.”

Any minute, someone could knock on his door. He’d have to open it and you’d have to explain what you were doing with him in the locked premises of his office. Any other day, that would have worried you but right now, you didn’t care and he didn’t seem to either. Not when the warmth of his embrace caused the pain in your chest to wash away, even if it’s only temporary.

When you backed away a little to look at him, still in his arms, you noticed how his eyes looked at you with utmost tenderness. And you don’t know how it happened or who started what. Right now, his lips were on yours and all of a sudden, they’re the only things consuming your mind.

His tongue grazed your lips, asking for permission to explore your mouth, and you so willingly granted him access.

You tasted him. And him, you. It wasn’t right. You shouldn’t be doing this. But the mere feeling of being in his arms had been the most secure you had felt in days. You wanted this — no, you needed this. And right now, you felt his need too, growing and pressing hard against your stomach.

He ran a hand along your side and in a flash, you recalled all the other times the two of you danced around the border of what was appropriate between someone of his rank and their subordinate.

You remembered all the times he had asked you to stay for much longer to keep him company, all the souvenirs he got you from his business trips, how he never once called you ‘kitten’ in front of anyone, his subtle preference to sit next to you in company dinners — where you were sure that his leg brushing yours underneath the table was pure coincidence —and his covert tendency to touch you in places from the small of your back or your waist, up to the back of your neck, places that make you wonder if he’s like that with other people too.

Over and over, you told yourself that those things meant nothing more than honest, friendly, innocent gestures when in fact, even your boyfriend was jealous of Kuroo, often noting how wary he was of Kuroo’s ‘off-putting’ presence. He even went as far as to accuse you of cheating too, even when you swore Kuroo would never do you like that. But you’d be lying if you said you never once thought about it.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, kitten — how long I’ve wanted you all to myself,” he admitted, moving his lips to kiss the recess between your neck and jaw.

You moaned at the flick of his tongue on your neck, feeling your own heat soaking through your panties. Deciding that you wanted things to move faster, you moved away, instantly missing the feel of his tongue on your skin as you brought your hands to cup his face, “Kuroo, I need you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours and you felt his warm breath fan over your cheek as he pulled you closer to him. Smiling at you, he said, “in here — while I have you like this — I want you to call me Tetsu.”

His voice hinted no pretenses, no hidden motives. This was Kuroo, as he had always been to you — warm, gentle, and sincere.

He kissed you again and you traced your hand from his stomach down, cupping his aching bulge, making him hiss before moving your hand away.

Nervous, you apologized, “I’m sorry, T-Tetsu, I thought you —”

“Tonight’s about you, ___,” he reminded you as he led you to sit on his desk.

He unbuttoned your blouse, helping you out of it before proceeding to unclasp your bra. As if a few seconds ago you weren’t too forward with your actions, you immediately shied behind your hands, hiding your exposed chest from him.

“You don’t have to hide from me, kitten. I won’t hurt you.”

And you believed him. Slowly, you moved your hands away once you earned your confidence from his attempts to reassure you.

Propping a hand beside you, he took your nipple in his mouth, flicking and circling his tongue around it, releasing a popping sound before moving to the other. And you couldn’t help but recline your head back, squirming and revelling at the warm and wet sensation of his mouth on your flesh.

You took off the rest of your clothes, totally baring yourself to him, and he looked at you in awe — dark and hazy eyes roaming your body before focusing on your face once he swiped a finger at your glistening folds.

“Hh — Tetsu, please,” you whined, breath hitching when he propped your leg up, spreading you wide, causing your walls to clench in anticipation.

“Did he ever appreciate you like this?” he asked, rubbing circles on your clit before you got to muster up an answer.

“Answer me, kitten,” he ordered the whimpering mess that you were.

“N-no, Tetsu,” you chirped, one hand gripping at the edge of the table as your breaths grew ragged with how fast he toyed with your clit.

“Do you remember the last time he made you feel good like this?”

“N-not so f-mm-fast, Tetsu,” you pleaded, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you felt the buildup of your first orgasm.

“You didn’t answer me,” he uttered.

You cursed and muffled your screams, coming undone on his fingers as you forced yourself to answer, “no — fuck — hh. N-not like you do, Tetsu. Fuck!”

He didn’t stop, continuously stroking your clit rough and fast until you’re bucking against his hand at your second orgasm.

“Did you like that, kitten?” he asked after moving his hand away to unbuckle his belt, letting you catch your breath and attempt to steady your pounding heart.

Before you get to answer, he added, “he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t see your worth like I do.”

Everything he told you was the truth. He made you see it as clear as day. Frankly speaking, however, you couldn’t care less about anything besides Kuroo right now. Not when he pulled his hard, throbbing cock out of his trousers — not when you felt his warm tip align at your entrance.

Slowly, he slipped into you, your own wetness allowing him to do so with ease but you winced at the stretch, nonetheless. He waited for you to adjust to his size before he started pumping into you.

“Tetsu!” you cried out, propping one hand behind you and another holding onto his arm for support.

“You have to be quiet, kitten.”

“I know… I-I’m sorry.”

After he cupped your face, he hooked your leg around his waist and you noticed that his thrusts began to lose their rhythm.

His mouth found yours again. You moaned into the kiss as it intoxicated and coaxed you closer to your third orgasm.

Your walls began to flutter around his cock. Soon after, he drew circles on your clit again, teasing you until you purred into his mouth as you hit your finish. He bucked his hips, ramming into you a couple more times before pulling out of you — panting when he reached his own climax and painting your stomach white with his seed.

Once finished, he put his trousers back on, taking a minute to collect himself before he planted a soft, chaste kiss on your lips.

“Don’t you fret anymore, kitten. I’ll take care of you from now on, I promise.”

[pixxiesdust]

haikyuu week 2020 ➤ day four, connect

favorite duo: bokuto kotarou + akaashi keiji think about what’s fun, not what’s easy. —bokuto kotarou to akaashi keiji

[alienaiver]

Some Nekoma boys and their first kiss (with you);

NEXT. with seijoh!

Lev, Kenma, Yamamoto, Kuroo and Yaku!

warnings: none

wordcount: 1,009

content: first kisses, FLUFF, gender neutral reader, small scenarios most of all, kitten is used once (1) bcos kuroo thinks hes being flirty and smooth, pre-timeskip, high school

notes: i was supposed to take a nap but this wouldnt rly leave my head, take these crumps i hope you enjoy them!!!! i might make more with other teams they were rly cute and fun to make!!! some of the lengths r a little different bcos my idea changed from when i started to i finished!! i tried matching them up but alas, they cant be the same kdfhsjkfs have a nice day!!!

---------------------------

Haiba Lev

This dude straight up proudly admits to you that he’s never kissed anyone in his entire life, whipping out his phone to show his recent search history containing searches like ’How to kiss someone’, ’Good first kiss tips’, and so forth. You felt embarrassed on his behalf but it also helped to make you less nervous. He then leaned into his backpack that was on the ground by the bench you were sat on, asking with a big grin, “d’you want a mint as well before we do the do?” making you slap him for being so tactless on how to be romantic, followed by a giggle at his antics and a “yes.” While the mints were being consumed, Lev was telling you about the team, ranting on about what he needed to improve and how much fun he had there. Suddenly he stopped, a beat of silence before he asked carefully, “have you swallowed yours yet?”

You swallowed it on accident just because he asked which made you choke a bit. He immediately leaned towards you, his face incredibly close to your own, which made you cough a bit more. After you calmed down a bit he leaned in and kissed you, smiling brightly afterwards saying, “I bet the kiss made it all better!”

Kozume Kenma

You had been going out with Kenma for a while now but nothing had really changed. You sat a bit closer (and even cuddled sometimes!!) when he was playing video games at your house or vice versa. So one afternoon, while he was playing Pokemon on his switch on your couch you finally gathered the nerves to ask, “why haven’t we kissed yet?” Without looking up from his switch he answered with another question, “do you want to?” and you hid your face in your hands, mumbling out a very small yes. You heard him shuffle around on the couch and soon after he gently took your hands and removed them slowly from your face. His gaze was always just a little bit intense, which only served to heighten your heartbeat, as he leaned in closer. Your eyes widened and then immediately shut close the second his lips hit yours, a small peck left on them before he pulled away. He licked his lips and whispered out, “again?” to which you nodded. You hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to try and kiss you too!

Yamamoto Taketora

Liking Yamamoto and starting to date him was a challenge on its own. You were the one confessing, which served to make him so nervous around you that for the first while after you started dating, having conversations with him could be such a chore. He kept stammering, blushing, refusing to look at you and sometimes even avoid you. So when you were at the park one day after practice and you both realized the mood was perfect for a first kiss, you ended up grabbing his cheeks forcefully after several minutes of silence and kissing him. Your teeth clashed and you both pulled back in pain. However that made him brave enough to smoothly lean down and gently peck your lips, letting out a, “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad, sweetheart,” before blushing and pulling away again. It did get easier from there on out, though.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo had tried to give weird remarks about how he had definitely kissed someone before, wiggling his eyebrows at you during one of your study dates. With both of you being busy with your respective clubs, there wasn’t much time for you to be romantic, so they had become a good way for the two of you to hang out. You only raised an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore his antics to get the question right on the sheet in front of you. 

“Kitten, have you ever kissed anyone?”

You could feel the temperature rise in your cheeks at the question, finally realizing what it was he was trying to get at. You shook your head, adamant on not looking up at him. “Oya?” you heard him say before the screech of the chair legs indicated that he had gotten up, presumably to get close to you. “Well, are you interested in having your first kiss then?” You felt suddenly embarrassed and inexperienced in his presence, until you finally looked up at him to see his cheeks and ears burning red, a strange sort of beaming smile on his lips.

You nodded slowly and before you could even blink his lips were on yours, soft and warm. When you pulled away he started laughing a bit, “I’ll count this as my first kiss too, it was much better,” you raised an eyebrow and smiled, “what was wrong with your first one?”

“It was with Kenma when we were 11.”

Yaku Morisuke

When you and Yaku had started dating just a few weeks back, he had been a nervous and stammering mess around you. Being Lev’s study partner and friend naturally meant meeting his volleyball team and one of his favorite upperclassmen, Yaku Morisuke. There had been instant chemistry between you and it only took a few months of showing up to all their practices and matches when possible, that Yaku had gotten the nerve to ask you out. Today they had a practice match against Fukuroudani and they had lost their first set. Yaku was visibly frustrated so during their break you helped give the team water bottles, saving him for last. When you got to him you smiled brightly, handed him a bottle and said, “I know you’re gonna win this, my big strong boyfriend!” knowing it’d give him a little boost being praised, even though it also made him immensely embarrassed. After he drank his water the coach called for them to gather, “I’ll see you then,” he said, about to run when you grabbed his arm and pulled him into a kiss, “for good luck.” Needless to say, he played better than he felt he had in some time.

[knchins]

Not Your Friend - Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukki invites you over for Thanksgiving dinner after a day at the Labor Thanksgiving festival. But things start to fall apart when he introduces you to his family as his friend instead of his girlfriend.

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k (not 206 omfg ally get it TOGETHER)

Server Collab: @haikyuucreations - Home Sweet Home

Warnings: Angst (w/ a happy ending), Very brief mention of sex, stuffed animal abuse (jkjk)

Notes: Anon I hope you don’t mind a happy ending because I totally intended to leaving it open ended but then my heart hurt too much and I had to make them happy in the end. Anyway first collab piece for hqc! Please enjoy <3

 Even though you had been dating Tsukishima Kei for a little over six months now, you were still surprised when he invited you to a Thanksgiving Day dinner celebration with his family and closest friend Yamaguchi Tadashi. He had mentioned the festival that would take place earlier in the day and that after the two of you explored a bit, you’d go back to his home and have dinner with his mother, older brother, and best friend.

 It was a little odd because Tsukishima had disagreed on group dates or meeting your own family multiple times. He always found excuses to not do it. He would only say that he liked to keep his love life private, and asked that you would respect that. And so far you had. You didn’t talk about what went on between the two of you with anyone outside of your relationship, even your friends. You would be vague about your dates and if you had a fight then you’d pretend like nothing was going on. He wanted privacy and you wanted to give that to him.

 Despite that, you were really excited to finally meet his family. He had told you a lot about them and you had always wanted to meet them. You didn’t think he would have agreed if you had simply asked, so you never voiced your wishes to him. Luckily it seemed that time made him comfortable enough in your relationship to want to introduce you to the other people in his life finally.

 That morning you put on one of your best outfits, something that was cute but suitable for meeting your boyfriend’s family. Once you were finished getting ready, you went outside to meet Tsukki at his car. He would never go up to the door, no matter how many times you told him it was okay. He smiled softly at you, approving of your attire. “You look cute.” He said before driving you to the festival.

 The day was spent playing games and enjoying each other’s company. A few people recognized him from seeing his games with the Sendai Frogs and told them how they were big fans of him and the team. You knew he didn’t really care for the attention, always making an excuse to pull him away from the intruding person so he could relax by your side again. Tsukishima was always appreciative of how well you seemed to be able to read him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, people just seemed so eager to aggravate him. It was incredibly annoying.

 Luckily, the fans bold enough to interrupt your time together were few and far between today. Tsukki won you a stuffed brontosaurus, making sure you tell you how inaccurate the plush was as you hugged it close to snuggle with it happily, listening to him list why it was improbable for a dinosaur to be neon pink with orange spots. Of course he added how the head wasn’t shaped quite right and the proportions were a tad off. It was enough to make you giggle as he took you back to his car to take you to his family home.

 Anxiety fluttered in your chest as you watched the scenery pass you by in the window. What if they didn’t like you? You wondered to yourself. What if they thought you weren't good enough for him? A million negative scenarios and interactions raced through your mind as you thought of every conceivable way that you could screw this up. If this didn’t go well, then he’d probably never let you see them again. The thought of that hurt more than anything.

 After failed scenario number five hundred and thirty seven, Tsukki pulled up to his family home and parked out front. He opened the door for you and you stepped out, choosing to leave your new beloved (though inaccurate) dino behind. You didn’t want them to think you were childish because you loved stuffed animals.

 As he shut the car door behind you, Yamaguchi arrived with a wide smile. He greeted you enthusiastically, hugging you before giving Tsukishima a look that you couldn’t quite decipher.The three of you headed inside and deposited your shoes at the door as Kei’s mother came to greet you.

 “This is my friend,” Tsukki began before telling her your name. You couldn’t stop your eyes from widening in shock, looking at him with hurt as you tried to reel in the fresh set of tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Friend? That’s all you were to him? Since when?

 You managed to compose yourself enough to bow to her as she told you it was nice to finally meet you. She then told Yamaguchi that she missed seeing him every weekend like she did when they were in high school together. The two began a friendly conversation as they retreated into the next room.

 Still frozen in place, you tried to grasp hold on your shattering heart. After everything, the ups and downs, the hiding you away, the confessions of love, the sex, he still somehow thinks of you as only…a friend? There was a lump in your throat, making it painful to swallow. Tsukishima didn’t seem to be pressed by the state you were in, he simply walked further into the house to catch up with his mother and friend.

 You took a deep breath to try and regain control of yourself. You attempted to numb the pain in your heart, simply thinking that if he just wanted to be friends then you’d simply treat him as a friend and nothing more. Two could play this game, not matter how much it hurt.

 Tsukki introduced you to his older brother and his significant other. You and Yamaguchi chatted with him while Tsukishima went to help his mother with something in the kitchen. You tried to keep yourself in the moment and to not think too much about the greeting. Though, he repeated himself again when introducing you to Akiteru. Being friendzoned on what you thought was a date was possibly one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You wish you could go back in time and decline his invitation to come over in the first place.

 Yamaguchi could read you like an open book. Not that you were incredibly hard to read in the first place, but it was easy to see that something was bothering you. Of course he knew exactly what was on your mind. He took you to the side after you finished chatting with Akiteru. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you I had a feeling this would happen.” He said to you in a quiet voice so that no one else could hear him.

 “I just want to go home.” You confessed. Despite how delicious the food smelled, you had no desire to even be near Tsukishima after what he had just done to you. The pain was simply too fresh, the wound too new. “I think I’m going to be sick…”

 He rubbed your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I think this is just his way of testing you.” Yamaguchi said, hoping that it would make you feel better. Alas it only made you feel worse. Why the hell did you need to be tested? Had you not gone through enough together in the past six months? Anger was starting to overwhelm your hurt and Tadashi attempted to backpedal. “I could be wrong though. Sometimes I don’t know what goes on in his head.”

 You dabbed at your eyes with the end of her shirt sleeve to try and keep the tears from falling. “Can you sit between us?” You asked, “I don’t want to be next to him right now.” He nodded, understanding how you were feeling. He wished he could pull Kei aside and ask him himself what was going through that head of his. Why was he doing this to the girl that he said he loved? Sometimes he could be such an enigma.

 Akiteru informed them that dinner was ready and the table was set. Tsukishima as already seated, Yamaguchi stayed true to his word and sat down next to him while you sat next to Yamaguchi. You could feel Kei’s eyes on you, wondering just what you were doing, but you ignored him totally. You told his mother that everything looked and smelled wonderful and she thanked you happily.

 The six of you began to eat, and everything tasted as good as it looked. It was almost worth the heartache that Tsukishima was putting you through, though you had already decided if he was so ashamed of you then you didn’t need to be in a relationship any more. You were hurt, angry, and at this point didn’t know what else to do. If he wanted to break up with you, then he could have found an easier way.

 The dinner was tense to say the least. You did your best to ignore Tsukishima, even though his family kept asking you questions about one another. How you met, did you hang out often, and many other questions that made it obvious that they were trying to see if the two of you were just friends or not. You kept your answers polite, but made it clear that you weren’t in an intimate relationship with Kei, at least not anymore.

 The slipup caused everyone to stare at you with wide eyes, even Kei himself. You not being together anymore was certainly news to him, though he played it off like it was no big deal. He wondered if this was because he didn’t claim you as his significant other right away or if maybe you’d been wanting to break up for some time now. His own mind was clouded with doubts and anxieties as he became even quieter at the table. It was obvious that there was something going on between you two, it was just unclear what exactly that was.

 Once everyone had finished eating, you helped Tsukki’s mother clear up the dishes and put extra food away. “You know, my son has a very interesting way of handling information he doesn’t want his family to know.” She said as she passed you a dish to dry off. “He has always been a very private person, even as a small child. I never quite understood where he got it from.”

 You weren’t sure what her point was, drying off another dish with the towel in your hand. “He never tells us when he has a girlfriend because he’s afraid we’ll bother them.” She said admittedly, “He thinks we’ll pry too much. I think he keeps it a secret more due to his own insecurities than anything else.”

 “Sometimes being kept a secret doesn’t feel very good.” You replied, not knowing what else to say to her. “Being kept in the dark isn’t that great either.”

 “Well, no.” She said back as she finished the last plate and handed it to you. “But he doesn’t have a whole lot of practice with that sort of thing either. I don’t think he reads women very well.”

 You nodded, wanting to believe that his denial of their relationship was simply due to him being an insecure idiot, but it was a little hard to believe. It still felt more like he was ashamed of you. “He’s never actually brought anyone over besides Tadashi before.” His mother said, “I think this was a big step for him.” She left to go tackle another chore as you stayed in the kitchen, nibbling on your lower lip. Did you possibly jump the gun?

 Tsukishima walked into the kitchen and you realized the two of you were alone. He had an apathetic look on his face. “So we’re not together anymore?” He asked, as if the conversation at dinner was unclear.

 Your eyes narrowed and you threw the dishrag at him. “I don’t know, Kei, you tell me.” You hissed before crossing your arms over your chest. “Can you please just take me home?”

 He was frowning, which although wasn’t totally unusual, it was more pronounced than normal. He nodded his head, letting out a soft disappointed sigh before letting everyone know he was going to take you back to your apartment.

 You walked with him to his car, allowing him to open the door for you. You got in, putting the stuffed dinosaur in the backseat. Honestly you didn’t even want to look at it anymore, you had already decided that you’d pretend to forget it there.

 Tsukki got into the driver’s side, buckling his seat belt and starting the car. Already he knew things were worse than he thought. For as long as he’d known you, he’d never seen you abandoned a stuffed toy. You’d always keep it in your lap or in your arms, somewhere close because you wanted it to feel loved (he really didn’t understand this but chose to let it go). He swallowed hard, trying to figure out a way to fix things before they were beyond repair.

 The drive was extremely tense. He caught you sniffling back tears a few times, the need to console you growing more and more despite the fact that now his heart was breaking too. “Listen,” He said, addressing you by your name, “I was going to tell them, but I wanted them to get to know you first without any pressure.” He was inwardly hoping that the truth was enough to heal your hurt, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was or not. “I knew they’d pry and I thought it would be easier on you if I just said you were a friend.”

 “Kei we’ve been dating six months now and they didn’t even know you were seeing someone?” You asked, though his explanation did help somewhat, it was still unacceptable that you had been kept such a secret. “Why are you so ashamed of me?”

 “I’m not ashamed of you.” He said back, his voice raising a hair at the accusation. “I never said that I was. I just don’t like them butting into my private life, that’s it. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

 You shied away at his loud volume, sinking into the seat like a child that had just been chastised. “That’s what it feels like…” You mumbled back meekly. “That you don’t care enough to tell them about me.”

 He glanced at you before looking back at the road. “How many times have I told you that you mean more to me than anything in the entire world?” He asked, sounding tired. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” He always hated saying those words, but sometimes the moment did call for it. Moments such as this. “I just didn’t want my family to pester me about you nonstop. They get carried away and it's overwhelming.”

 You were quiet, unsure what to say. “Why didn’t you just tell me that beforehand so I wouldn’t have gotten hurt?”

 His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “I was going to tell them right away but I panicked at the last moment. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, really.”

 You blinked slowly, reaching into the backseat for the dino and hold. The action made Tsukishima let out a sigh of relief. It was at least a sign that he hadn’t ruined everything completely. “So are we still broken up?”

 “No,” You muttered back to him awkwardly. “I’m sorry I made you leave early.”

 He shrugged, “I’d rather just be with you anyway. Akiteru can be such a pain.”

 A small smile broke on your face as you rode the rest of the way in a happy silence.

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Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawkward​, @writeiolite​ (I think you wanted to be tagged Io, I don’t exactly remember ad;lfkja;dlfja;sdlfj)

[seijoh]

TOO BAD WE'RE NEKOMA