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ilylovelyz · 9 months

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⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you

☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.

"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.

your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.

he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.

with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..

"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"

there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.

he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.

his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."

with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.

MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.

"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.

but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"

his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.

"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.

he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.

he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"

KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.

kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.

"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.

"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.

"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.

"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.

"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."

you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..

BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.

"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.

"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?

"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.

you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.

"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.

him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..

he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..

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clubkira · 6 months

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DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right!

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

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

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

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part one can be read here.

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

KOUTAROU BOKUTO.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Four months engaged.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s got nice hair!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MORISUKE YAKU.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

KIYOOMI SAKUSA.

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

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

“This’ll be so easy for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Omi-Omi.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t judge you.”

“Yes you do.”

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

“That’s more than one thing, Kiyo.”

“I don’t care.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TOBIO KAGEYAMA.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you two ready to play?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t like it?”

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

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

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

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

“Tobio!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well thank you then, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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piichuu · 7 months

Text

♡ SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

FEATURING: sugawara koushi, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi

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

SUGAWARA KOUSHI

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

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

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

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

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

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

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

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

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

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

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

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

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

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

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

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

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forusomimiya · 2 months

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He likes to have eye contact with you while his watching another man who is not him fucking you raw.

He likes to have eye contact with you with one hand on his cock, asking you to be obedient to the man who’s asking you to kneel down to fuck your pretty mouth.

He likes to have eye contact with you when you moan his name but it's another cock that's filling you.

He likes to have eye contact with you as he licks the other man's juice dripping out your pussy.

He likes to have eye contact with you when you cry and beg for his cock long enough to finally get it.

KAGEYAMA, BOKUTO, SUNA, KUROO, ATSUMU, OIKAWA, IWAIZUMI, ASAHI

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cheekinpermission · 3 months

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I like to believe that Malleus and Erin get up to silly shenanigans when they're together. Give Mal a chance to goof around for once.

#i also headcanon that malleus has been inflicted with 'kageyama tobio syndrome' in which he cant smile like a normal person #all his smiles look sinister for some reason #but he's trying!!!#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland fanart #twst fanart #cheekindraws #diasomnia #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst ramshackle #yuusona #twst yuu #twst mc #twst oc

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solitesse · 1 year

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Shoutout to Haikyuu!! for showing the diversity of the autism spectrum!

We have :

Ushijima "I have no idea of what’s going on" Wakatoshi

Kageyama "I can’t read social cues & it pisses me off" Tobio

Sakusa "Don’t you dare touch me" Kiyoomi

Akaashi "I felt overwhelmed and anxious so I made some very specific lists to feel better" Keiji

Kozume "I was just looking for Pokémon Tier Lists online and ended up not eating, drinking or sleeping for the last 24 hours" Kenma

Kita "Do not disturb my routine under any circumstances" Shinsuke (+ bonus point for the "crackly" jacket)

#honorable mention to bokuto koutaro for having both autism&adhd!!#yeah they just like me fr #haikyuu headcanons #ushijima wakatoshi #kageyama tobio #akaashi keiji #sakusa kiyoomi #kozume kenma #kita shinsuke #they're all autistic bc i said so #tsukki could also be in it

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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✉️; SWEATER SEASON. - T.KAGEYAMA.

💌; synopsis - your boyfriend finds you wearing a piece of old high school memorabilia, his number nine kurasuno jersey, and it drives him absolutely insane.

↳ length: 2.07K

↳ warnings: smut, mdni 18+, fem!reader, characters aged up to 20s, post-time skip!au, unprotected sex, clothed sex, pussy jobs, soft/mean!kageyama, praise!kink, reader is wearing kageyama’s clothes.

↳ notes: a very self indulgent piece because i finished hq s4 and cant stop thinking about kageyama ?? it’s giving obsessed with him i think <3! not beta’d ! enjoy my loves hehe - m.list ♡

“are you gonna tell me where you found it? or do i have to fuck it out of you, baby?” kageyama’s voice is tender as he asks, speaking to you like you’re a timid creature or somewhat of a street cat that might scurry away from him at any given moment. but the way he treats you is mean, his hands that are both large enough to cover the globes of your ass grip at your soft flesh— easily pull you back and forth, back and forth on his cock while you’re seated in his lap, your dainty fingertips just peeking out of the sleeves on his cold kurasuno jersey, gripping into his shoulder blades to somewhat ground yourself. “‘m talkin’ to you sweetheart,”

you know that he is, god, you know.

but words are hard to come by when you’re seated on your boyfriend’s cock, letting him bounce you up and down mercilessly until you can practically feel him in your throat. you know kageyama’s talking to you, his pretty girl, angel dressed in nostalgic shades of burnt orange and obsidian black— he loves how you can’t respond, blubbering and babbling incoherent sentences while you hide your swollen lips under the collar of his sweatshirt and drip so sweetly down his shaft from your heavenly little hole.

“uh—oh, mhm…mhm!” is all you can manage, swallowed by fabric that smells like your olympic athlete boyfriend, drowning in the strong waves of lust as he pounds up into your pretty puffy pussy until there are tears in your eyes.

tobio let’s a hand leave your ass to tap at your baby fat cheeks, his dark blue eyes lit up with hunger as he mocks your pout. “words please baby, i know you know them.” it’s almost a joke to him, how weak and needy you get as soon as his milky top pushes past your selfish entrance, and brushes up against your velvety inner walls. he reads it in your eyes, how much you crave him and feels it in your cunt when you spasm and clench down on him, your juices rolling down his lengthy shaft and coating his balls.

he taps your cheek again, and you whimper like a lost little lamb— the traces of a smile spreading across kageyama’s lips. “f-found it in the, fuck, the back of the closet… h’i missed you.” you cry out, gently circling your hips down on your boyfriend’s, droplets in the form of angel tears clumping in your lashes. kageyama’s smile widens, the hand in your cheek wrapping around the back of your neck, tilting your head up to kiss him.

you let the fabric of the kurasuno jersey fall down to your chin, head angled perfectly to meet his lips and let your tongue slide wetly over the seam— begging your boyfriend to let you in. and he does, he lets you take charge of the searing and sloppy, spit slicked kiss. he lets you lick into his mouth and squeak against his tongue while he dominates the rest of your body buried beneath his old clothes. tobio feels you lean into him, free falling into his love and his desire while his hands slip under the sweatshirt to draw circles into your tummy, tease you by thumbing just under the swell of your breasts where they meet your rib cage before tweaking your nipples with tender love and care.

his cock aches inside you, just knowing that all your beauty, your curves, your pebbled nipples and the marks you have are hidden— no, protected from the hungry gaze of others by his old uniform. it drives kageyama insane, activates animalistic instincts in the back of his brain as he forces his cock as deep as it can go, rubbing his tip against your gummy walls and marking your insides with opaque wads of his messy precum until you’re squelching every time he ploughs into you.

you probably have no idea how fucking good you look right now, like a five course meal served up to the volleyball player on a silver platter. his baby, tobio kageyama’s innocent little baby had no idea of what she was getting herself into when you put on that number 9 kurasuno jersey. no idea that you would be fucked within an inch of your life, perfect pussy stretched over his painfully hot dick— his forked veins brushing up against pleasure spits only kageyama could reach. “h’baby, you could have just, fuck…” the athlete curses, having been pounding into you so hard that his cock slips out of your eager hole, sliding right up against your clit which shines, soaked underneath the you yellow lighting in your bedroom. kageyama shivers when your tiny hand, peeking out from sweater paws to jerk him off. you thumb at his blistering red and seedy tip, you even drool over it too— right before guiding him back inside of your fluttering fat pussy. “there we go…you shoulda called me,”

“y-you were at practice! oh fuck—tobi!” you whine, bristling with desire when kageyama wastes no time fucking your cunt into the shape of him. the bed creeks under the weight of his thrusts up into you, balls slapping heavy against your ass only serving to fill the room with their sensual song. you feel like you might cry, that’s how deep in your guts kageyama is, ruining your body for anyone else, claiming you as the mixture of your arousals froths and gathers at the swelling base of his shaft. whatever your precious cunt drools, quickly gets fucked back into your gushing insides and painted against your spongey g-spot the more your boyfriend throws his hips up to fuck you.

tobio grabs at your hips, holding you up so the only thing you can hump is his mushroomed cockhead, bright red and burning for you. he just wants to see, even though you whine for him put it back in, he just wants to see how raw and swollen your folds are from underneath his clothes— wants to know how much he turns you on. “you think i wouldn’t have left practice to come make my baby feel good?” he asks, pressing his face into your neck and tilting his head up to lick the tears that stream down your face. “volleyball ain’t got shit on this fuckin’ pussy,” he breathes against your skin,

filling you up all over again with one sharp thrust until he’s buried into you right up to the hilt.

and it’s true, not even the satisfaction of smacking a ball straight into the opposite court, not even lining up the perfect set or the smell of rubber sneakers burning against the floor during a tournament could compare to the sweet bliss of your warm, tight cunt wrapped around kageyama’s dick. you’re his favourite thing dressed in the jersey of his first love, humping away at his lap like a bitch in heat.

and kageyama thinks would be the best place in the world to die if it were to happen right now.

“‘m close tobi, i’m gonna cum,” you heave into his ear like it’s a promise, arms looped around his neck where the softness of his jersey rubs against his sweaty skin. “fuck you’re gonna make me cum, o-oh. oh!” your head tilts back when his fingers meet your puffy clit, writing his signature against it while you drool from your mouth and your slit. “tobio.” there’s a warning lilt to the edge of your tone, telling your boyfriend that you can’t hold back and there’s a new feverishness to the way you roll your hips back down to meet his.

so he pushes you onto your back, covering you with his slender body, his lips on yours while your ankles lock at his waist. the angle of kageyama’s hips shift, bullying his tip against your g-spot over and over, smearing precum along your velvety walls and bullying his way into you until you can see stars. he knows the way he fucks you is just right, he can tell by the way your lips form a gentle ‘o’ and the way your nails ( that he paid for ) dig into his toned shoulders and form crescent moons.

“oh right there?” kageyama coos, lips messily finding yours while he pins your waist down to the sex soaked sheets bellow. your face changes, shining with sweat but so blissed out it makes your boyfriend’s hips stutter, losing the rough tempo they set. “ah, here…that feel good baby? yeah? oh fuck i know it’s good.” his words are breathy and shoot straight to your core, making your hole flutter around him— sucking his pulsing cock in selfishly. with his free hand, tobio roughly pushes up his kurasuno jersey that pools over your body right up to your tits— stormy blue eyes laser focused on the way they bounce under the weight of his thrusts.

kageyama is way taller than he was back in high school, but the length of the fabric still has you swimming in it— the volleyball player bunches it up, smiling down at you and uses the material to tug you back onto his dick, barely letting you off it as your clit grinds up against his washboard abs. “oh baby don’t cry, you’ll get to cum. i know you wanna fucking cum. can you do that?” he asks you, and again your words escape you as you’re left a teary eyed mess underneath the dark haired man. “yeahh, yeah you can. there you go.”

“tobi—!” you gasp, orgasm tearing though you as he pressed his entire weight onto you, fucking you hard and fast right through your high. you can’t help it, cunt squeezing down on him hard— juices splashing against kageyama’s stomach, making him almost grateful that he pushed his sweat shirt up to expose your pretty chest. “holy shit— tobio, i can’t, god—i can’t!,” pushing at his shoulders, your heave and hiccup as he picks up the pace and rams into your creamy sex again and again and again, forcing another orgasm out of you.

you fucking squirt, a clear stream pouring from your abused little cunt— eyes rolling back into your skull as a silent scream rattles around in your throat. your hands dart up to grab at midnight black hair, tugging tobio closer, close enough for him to feel you tremble as you cream hard around his dick, practically forcing him out of your hole.

“shit, baby…fuuck there you go, that’s it,” kageyama sighs against your wet lips, one arm outstretched over your head to grip the head board— the other between your bodies so he can tap his sensitive cockhead against your glistening and gushing pussy, running it up and down through the length of your slit. “mmhm, fuck you did so good, my good girl.” he stutters, lashes fluttering against your shoulder as he listens to the sticky sounds your puffy folds make while he glides through them. he kisses the tears that sit on the apples of your cheeks, using your shaky body to get himself off until he finds himself cumming against your cute little clit. a layer of thick white coats your hot mound and as he takes hold of his dick, tobio pushes the mix of your arousals back into you, shallowly fucking your hole as you twitch with the after shocks of your orgasm before he eventually settles inside you so you cockwarm him.

kageyama rolls off of you, pulling your leg high over his hip while you snuggle into him. “‘m sticky,” you complain, forming tiny fists against his chest. through the sleeves of your boyfriend’s kurasuno jersey.

“you’re sticky ‘n so pretty baby,” kageyama’s cheeks are pink tinted from exertion, a soft smile on his lips while feeling you up from under the kurasuno colours. “want you to wear this more often…you look really good in it.”

twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers. “i’ll wear whatever it takes to get you to fuck me like that again, tobi.” you purr into the shell of his ear, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “you’ll want to get spares of your japan team uniform as well.”

“oh yeah?” tobio hums, eyes on yours, cock twitching softly inside of you. “how come?”

“‘cause when you bring home a medal f’me, i can’t guarantee i won’t make a mess on you.”

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