Ding!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐋

pairing. miya osamu x gn!reader

content warnings. 3.9k wc, fluff, secrecy, misunderstandings

summary. after accidentally finding out about your boyfriend’s plans to propose to you, you anxiously await the moment.

that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why—

the words had been playing on repeat in your head ever since they slipped past atsumu’s lips. you could tell he was apologetic for not only the mistake he made in revealing his brother’s business but also for keying you in on something you weren’t meant to be aware of. despite his profuse and plentiful “sorry”s, it had been impossible for you to not think about osamu’s impending proposal.

even less so now that you were standing outside his restaurant.

the last time you’d been relatively nervous at or near onigiri miya was when you were stationed on the bench and waiting for him to close up for your first date. time passed by excruciatingly slow as you peeked over your shoulder every couple minutes to gauge whether or not he would be out any time soon. you’d been inside the establishment only a few hours earlier with some friends who wouldn’t shut up about how cute the guy with the black cap was. you couldn’t blame them; you thought the same thing. which is why you were so surprised when what you thought was harmless flirting with the entire table led to him pulling you aside and asking you to hang out that night. it was an impulsive decision for you to say yes, but you didn’t regret it in the slightest. the happiest two years of your life came as a result of your spontaneity. the nostalgia of that moment was hitting you at full force as you stood tentatively at the entrance of the restaurant, patrons entering with excitement and exiting with content smiles. the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around in your belly felt the exact same as they did that first night you spent with him.

you couldn’t loiter around forever, though, as you only had so much time before your coworkers were expecting you back with lunch. with a stabilizing sigh, you pushed the door open, the bell above it ringing to announce the arrival of another.

part of you was expecting osamu to welcome you at the door, after all, it wasn’t rare for him to be running the host podium. though, instead of being greeted by a familiar face, a girl sporting a black apron was seating the growing line of visitors. you never knew where you could find your boyfriend at any given moment—he hopped between helping out in the kitchen, handling business in his office, and even waiting tables; which is what he seemed to be busy with today. you always thought he preferred spending his hours in the back working with the food, but he was surprisingly adept at socializing with customers. that much was evident by the easy smile playing at his lips while he conversed with a group of older women just to the left of where you were currently positioned.

you were close enough to pick up on most of the exchange. he was dropping off the bill and collecting plates as they doted on him—going back and forth about how helpful and kind he had been while servicing them. a smile of your own stretched across your lips as you listened to their overt praise of your boyfriend. you told him how amazing he was all the time, but he deserved to hear it from other people, too.

“a handsome gentleman like you oughta be married by now.” one of the women pointed at his ringless finger as he reached for her empty cup.

your ears perked up at the lady’s words. to them, it must have been hard to believe that a successful business owner with a personality likeable to all wasn’t settled down already. you waited in anticipation for his reply.

“yeah.” he breathily laughed—not with ease; more bashful than anything. “i’m working on that.”

you could pick up the distant laughter from the women that sounded farther away than it truly was. you never doubted it when atsumu told you, but hearing it from osamu himself made it so much more real. too focused on your thoughts, you didn’t feel the presence of someone beside you.

“hey.” you almost jumped at the sudden voice but the familiar feel of arms wrapping around you and soft lips pressing to your cheek stopped you. he must have finished up his chat while you were lost in your thoughts. 

“hi.” you smiled, hoping it didn’t appear too strained. there hadn’t been a time where it had felt awkward to be around osamu but you were beginning to think that now might mark the first. as much as you wanted to remain your normal and composed self, the task was proving to be difficult.

“lunch run?” he asked, pulling away from you but keeping one arm wrapped around your waist.

“mhm,” you hummed.

he told you that he’d grab your order so you wouldn’t have to wait any longer in the line. you chewed at your lip as you gazed nowhere in particular in an attempt to think about anything but the proposal you should have been oblivious to. osamu was back in no time, placing the to-go bag in your hand and sending you off with another kiss.

the bell rang again as you departed from the restaurant. as if your mind wasn’t already in the gutter, you had something new to dwell on for the rest of the day.

დ  დ  დ

the aroma of breakfast cooking typically roused you from your slumber on saturday mornings, but rather than awaking to the scent of a freshly cooked meal, the hum of the television from the next room worked as your alarm. wiping any lingering sleep from your eyes and tossing the comforter aside, you stood up and padded down the hall to see what osamu was up to. through slightly bleary vision you were able to catch sight of him sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his eyes trading off between looking at the flat screen and the screen of his laptop. it wasn’t often that he handled work matters outside his office and during occasions when he did bring business home, he’d usually hunker down in the guest room that served as a workroom so he wouldn’t get distracted.

“good morning,” you called from behind the couch. you leaned over the back and squinted your eyes to get a closer look at his laptop. “whatcha looking at?”

tilting his head back, osamu flashed you a bright smile. his hair was messy and unbrushed and your hands were itching to neaten the brunette strands. he patted the space on the floor beside him. “come see.”

you rounded the cushioned furniture and plopped down next to osamu. you wriggled a bit before you were comfortably pressed against his side. the volume of the tv that was playing some competitive cooking show filled the otherwise silent room. with a satisfied sigh, you finally looked at the tab pulled up on osamu’s computer.

“houses?” you cleared your throat but it was too late to take back the crack that had broken it.

a hand ran lazily up and down your side as osamu nodded.

“how come? i thought you liked your apartment.” you crossed your arms and chewed at the inside of your cheek. you spent more time at his place than your own and osamu often called his apartment yours—the two of you were practically living together. and you loved it, being able to wake up beside him and welcome him home after a long day, but the thought of buying a house made you shiver. the nagging at the back of your mind that you had been trying so hard to ignore was resurfacing.

“i do,” he agreed easily. “but don’t you want to find a place to call a home of our own?”

“well, yeah…” at the beginning of your relationship, you could only have dreamed of this moment; house hunting with osamu. the thought made you giddy; picturing how beautiful your yard would look lined with colorful flowers, thinking about all the meals you and osamu could make in a spacious kitchen, imagining what the rooms would look like filled with photos and belongings of your own—envisioning a happy life with him. now that you were getting a taste of the experience, you couldn’t help but think about his plans to propose. if he was already searching the market for houses, it must have meant that you were quickly approaching his proposal. there was no time to enjoy what was right in front of you when you were too preoccupied thinking about osamu popping the question.

“hey.” he smoothed a hand over your hair and smooshed your cheeks together with his other. osamu hated seeing your eyebrows knit together in a frown. he couldn’t be sure as to why you looked so troubled, but he did know that he’d do anything to get your mind off of whatever was bothering you—even if that was the window displaying images of houses for sale. his lips met your puckered ones in a quick kiss before he continued. “no need to get the jitters just yet. we’re just scouting, nothing serious.”

it was clear that he caught onto your discomfort and his words were an attempt at ridding you of it. just because you were feeling awkward didn’t mean you had to put a damper on osamu’s hopeful mood. and he was right; it would take a lot more than a couple hours on a saturday morning to find a house that the both of you were happy with. there was no harm in just looking. you nodded with a grin, “nothing serious.”

“but,” he drew out the vowel, “i have been waiting for you to get up so i could hear your thoughts about this kitchen.” he clicked over to the picture showing off the kitchen of the listed house. “what do you think? pretty amazing, right?”

you couldn’t let your nerves ruin what was supposed to be an exciting milestone for you and your boyfriend. and how could you deny the man with sparkles of anticipation in his eyes? 

“if you like it, i love it.”

დ  დ  დ 

spacing out is your new normal. it happens much more often than it ever did before a couple weeks ago. you’ll be at work, typing away on your keyboard, and your mind will drift. the next time you look at the document you’re working on, it’s filled with your written thoughts about being a spouse rather than the report you were meant to be filling out. you’d stare at your hands while loading the washing machine with dirty laundry, imaging what your ring finger would look like adorned with a metal band. it was only when you went to transfer the wet clothes to the dryer that you realized you accidentally mixed in colors with the whites. the growing mishaps had you wishing you were still gleefully unaware or led you to internally rushing osamu to hurry up and bend down on one knee. though, you don’t blame osamu for your wandering mind—how could you? it wasn’t his fault that his brother blabbed.

your life would be a lot easier if atsumu had a filter and kept his mouth shut. you had let him off the hook because his apology seemed sincere, but the moment that ring was resting easily on your fourth finger, he’d be getting a mouthful of choice words for causing you so much unnecessary stress.

even now, on what was meant to be a relaxing walk with osamu, you were too distracted to enjoy the cool breeze gently blowing against your face and the company of your boyfriend. the warmth of osamu’s hand enveloping yours was the only thing anchoring you to your environment, which is why you gasped when he tugged your arm to keep you from walking any further. you stumbled back on your feet, glancing over to osamu to see why he stopped you so abruptly. you weren’t able to ask before he started kneeling down.

it was as if time froze.

oh god, is he doing it here? now? in the middle of the sidewalk? of all the scenarios you had run through during restless nights, you had come to the conclusion that a public proposal was the least likely; osamu was an intimate man and you figured he wouldn’t want to make a scene. but more than that, he’d want the event to be exclusive to the two of you—no spectators or wandering eyes, something private; a memory that belonged to you and you only. the shock of not only his proposal but the execution left you reeling. heart thumping wildly in your chest, you willed your eyes to look down to your feet. your breath caught in your throat upon seeing that he was only tying his shoe. you didn’t know whether to breathe out a sigh of relief or scream in frustration at that fact you’d be waiting for who knew how long for the real thing to happen. again.

“you good?” osamu questioned with a frown as he slowly returned to a standing position. he’d been catching you with a crease between your eyebrows recently and despite your consistent reassurance that you were fine, the expression seemed to always find its way back to your face. he never wanted to be the overbearing boyfriend that crossed your boundaries by constantly hovering over your shoulder and badgering you to tell him how you actually felt. he trusted that if something was bothering you, you’d tell him when you were ready.

you had no intention of coming straight out and telling him that you were expecting him to give a sappy speech and pull out a velvet box. the entire reason you had been suffering silently was because you didn’t want him to know that you knew. you wrapped your hands around his arm and peered up at him with a tight-lipped smile. “yeah, sorry. i was just in my head when you stopped me, that’s all.”

he stared down at you and you could practically see the doubt swimming in his eyes. there was no way you could keep up this act without him getting even a little suspicious—your behavior was clearly stirring up some wariness on his end. you ignored the biting feeling that was telling you that osamu was onto you, meeting his gaze happily.

“okay,” he finally spoke up with a short nod.

“okay, let’s go.” you rested your head on his shoulder and squeezed his bicep in a gesture to keep moving. he obliged, the two of you naturally falling into step with each other and continuing your stroll through town. you pointed out a shop that caught your eye, one with mannequins set up in the window wearing some cute outfits. the weather getting warmer was a perfect excuse for you to stop by the boutique and shop around. maybe browsing and asking osamu what he thought about the clothes would be enough to get your head out of the clouds.

დ  დ  დ

“this place is really nice,” you commented, head turning to take in your surroundings as you sat down in the chair osamu pulled out for you. the most eye-catching characteristic of the establishment was the extravagant chandelier hanging from the center of the room. the crystal pendants glimmered when the lights hit them at just the right angle, highlighting the intricately carved art on the walls. individual candles were lit at the center of each table. you couldn’t put your finger on the scent, but you imagined it smelled amazing. even the silverware set out looked expensive. “are we celebrating something?”

you were caught off guard when osamu walked through the door earlier than usual, telling you to change out of your comfy clothes into something nice. it took a full-blown interrogation under the ruse of needing to know the dress code for osamu to come clean and admit that he was taking you out to dinner. it struck you as strange, though. your boyfriend was a chef at heart and loved trying out new recipes in the kitchen, excitedly standing by while you taste the dish and give him feedback. but on days when he was burned out from all the cooking at work, he’d ask you if you were fine with him ordering takeout. even on the days when didn’t want to cook but wanted to get out of the apartment, the two of you usually ventured to a familiar local spot, never anywhere that warranted more than jeans and a sweatshirt. him taking you to a restaurant so opulent must have meant it was a special occasion, right?

tonight had to be the night.

“no,” he took his seat across from you, laying the provided napkin on his lap before running a cautious hand over his hair. it was an unusual sight to see his hair slicked back, but some of the dark pieces strayed from the rest, swooping over his forehead and framing his face. he always looked handsome in your eyes but under the lights illuminating the room, he looked even more attractive. “i just wanted to treat you to a nice night.”

“that’s sweet.” you reached across the table to take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering him a soft smile. what exactly did a “nice night” entail? dinner, dessert, and a diamond ring? you hoped he didn’t notice the tremors running through your fingers.

he returned your smile with one of his own, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. the two of you shared light conversation until the waiter arrived to take your orders and collect your menus. as smoothly as things were going, you couldn’t help but think that as time went on, you’d get closer and closer to that moment you’ve spent weeks waiting for.

“is something wrong?” osamu asked.

“nope.” you shook your head. “why would something be wrong?”

“your leg keeps bouncing under the table.”

“oh, sorry, i didn’t even notice.” you pulled your hand back and rested your palms on your thighs to stop them from moving.

“look, babe.” osamu ran his hand down his face and sighed. you must have thought he didn’t notice that you were beginning to frown more, that you were sleeping at his apartment less, that you pulled away when he brought up the future—but he did, he did notice and he couldn’t let it go. “you’ve been acting different lately and i told myself i wouldn’t pry but it’s really starting to worry me. i just… was it something i did?”

“no! no, of course not.” you waved your hands back and forth frantically as if they’d physically disperse his word throughout the air—rid that ridiculous thought from his head. you wanted to grab him by the face and scream at him about how wrong he was, but you kept your hands folded in your lap, thumbs unconsciously twiddling.

“the truth is…” you chewed your lip thoughtfully, thinking of whether or not it was a good idea to finally tell him. you had good reason for keeping it from osamu, but now that you saw it was doing more harm than good, that he was blaming himself for you being distant, you recognized that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to keep him in the dark. you had to tell him—this whole debacle had gone on for far too long and it was affecting someone other than yourself. you took a deep breath before continuing. “when i went out with atsumu a couple weeks ago, we were just talking when he told me something he shouldn’t have. he said you were going to propose to me.”

osamu’s lips parted in surprise. it never crossed his mind, the possibility that you were aware, but now that he thought about it, everything made sense. well, mostly everything. you had answered his question, but it raised another, one that was more difficult to ask. “so have you been acting strange because you knew, or because you don’t want to get married?”

you knew it wasn’t his intention, but your heart broke a little at the fact that he even considered your rejection to be a liable prospect. and it cracked a little more knowing that your secrecy is what likely instilled that notion in his head. “it’s not that. i was just on edge because i didn’t know when it was going to happen—i was expecting it and every little thing set me off.”

he nodded slowly as he processed everything.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier.” your voice was quiet and osamu could just barely hear it over the commotion of the dining area. “i didn’t know what to do when your brother told me and, i don’t know, i thought acting like i was clueless would be best. i didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” he placed his hands palms-up on the table and waited for you to set yours on top of his. you lifted them off your legs and gave them to osamu. he raised them to his mouth, kissing the back of each before meeting your gaze once more. “i’m not mad, i swear i’m not. you did what you thought was right. don’t beat yourself up about it.”

despite his understanding, part of you still felt as if the whole ordeal was avoidable. but if osamu wasn’t upset with you, there was no point in being upset with yourself. he wouldn’t want you fretting over it and you wanted nothing more than for things to return to normal. you smiled and huffed out a laugh. “i guess i ended up doing exactly what i was trying not to. did you have a backup plan in case i found out before you got the job done?”

“mmm, can’t say i thought about that. but i suppose i could just do it now. i don’t have the ring on me but there’s no reason to wait since—”

“are you serious?” you stared at him in disbelief. you’d spent the last several days walking on eggshells as though osamu would propose at any given moment, telling yourself that it could happen when you least expected it. still, none of those previous actions lessened the shock of osamu’s nonchalantly spoken words.

“completely.” he traced a line over your finger; the one that he ideally would have been sliding a ring on. it was far from how he imagined the scene would play out, but even without the defining qualities of the average proposal—the dropping down on one knee, the long heartfelt speech about how his life changed when you walked into it, the dazzling ring—everything about here and now felt right to osamu. “marry me?”

tears pooled in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lashline. you’d thought you had enough time to prepare for this—experienced enough scares to steel yourself from crying, but if this stretch of time had taught you anything, it was to expect the unexpected. the vision of osamu in front of you was slowly blurring with each passing second. you blinked, allowing the tears to flow down your cheeks and drip down your chin. you wanted to be able to see his face clearly when you gave him your answer. fervently nodding, you responded, “yes.”

“Wasn’t that the definition of home? Not where you are from, but where you are wanted.”

— Abraham Verghese

five times you fell in love with ushijima wakatoshi.

masterlist | sorry this is really long. I just love him sm <3

01. that one day when he walked you home and stayed for dinner. your mother had told ushijima she had never found the neighborhood safe, so he made it a point to walk you back everyday after his practices.

you came upon a startling realization during this time. ushijima was definitely raised like a gentleman. he would never let you walk on the outer side of the sidewalk. anytime you were on the outer side, he'd take a step back and go around you. always.

“thank you for dropping me home, wakatoshi,” you told him. it was a routine for you to say this and for him to reply that you shouldn't thank him for this.

“i am thankful though. especially for you not letting me walk on the outer side,” you explain and ushijima feels like he's been caught off guard. he did do it unintentionally most of the time, yes, but he makes sure of it when he's with you. its also partly because you sometimes get so carried away telling him about your day, he worries you might accidentally stumble on the street and he can't have that.

“you read me well,” he admits, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“well it's because i'm just happy to be graced by the presence of the ace of shiratorizawa,” you joke.

“you think too highly of me, you know that?”

“i don't see why I shouldn't,” you retort. “do you want to come in for dinner?”

you assume he's going to refuse since he has to be home in an hour to study and do his homework. and you know better than anyone that he doesn't take a single day off, no matter what. be it hail, sleet, snow or a tornado, ushijima would never rest.

he takes a minute to think till he replies, “yeah sure.”

you mask your shock well, you open the door and let him in. and you can already feel the butterflies in your stomach. maybe you don't view him as a friend, but something more.

02. when you told him he was boring. it wasn't intentional, no. ushijima is fun but just not without planning out the fun? so when you tell him that you're gonna go out in the rain, he's definitely hesitant to join. you don't force him to join you which he's grateful for.

but when he sees the smile on your face, as raindrops trickle down, he thinks to hell with it. you're awestruck when he does join in, his eyes taped shut, as he lets himself feel each raindrop falling on his skin.

“toshi” you call out, only for his eyes to meet yours, slowly adjusting to the light. you laugh and he thinks he's never heard a better sound.

“i’ve never done this before.t I wouldn't have, if it wasn't for you,” he admits, letting his rigid body go lose.

“don’t go all soft on me big guy,” you retort, a grin on your face.

“i can't help it.”

and you can't help falling in love with him either.

03. when you spent an afternoon in his childhood bedroom. ushijima’s mother had invited the two of you for dinner, telling you to take a look at wakatoshi’s old room.

volleyball and manga posters were lined on the side of his wall, with some of his trophies and pictures with his best friend tendou.

“can’t believe i’m lucky enough to be here,” you joke, a playful smile tugging on your lips.

“can’t believe i’m lucky enough to bring you here,” he responds, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“although I think I should be jealous because from the looks of this bedroom, it feels like you've been dating tendou,” you pointed at the wide array of pictures of the two.

ushijima throws his head back in laughter, “i kept our pictures hidden from mom,” he replies. you knew his mother was a little critical of his choices as a teenager. “wait–” he opened his cupboard and started rummaging through the drawers only to pull out a shoebox.

“this has all of our pictures,” he hands the box to you. you open it, only to find ushijima saving up not only pictures, but movie tickets, little letters you wrote for him, the bracelets you made, the cute doodles you drew on his notebook perfectly cut off alongside birthday cards and a childhood photo that you gave him.

“i never knew you saved all of this stuff,” you whispered. you never took ushijima for the sentimental type, especially not the one to save what you referred to as your ‘romantic garbage.’

“of course I would,” he shrugs. “it might be garbage to you but it meant the world to me and it still does. I save stuff till this day,” he admits.

this man really does catch you off guard, doesn't he?

04. when you were having a difficult time. while he's a world renowned player that definitely has more than enough on his mind given the upcoming championship, all of that becomes irrelevant when he catches you with tears sliding down your face after coming home back early from his practice.

“t–toshi, you're home?” you whisper, quickly trying to wipe the tears of your face. but you've never been a good liar and ushijima can read you with his eyes closed.

“what’s wrong, love?” he asks, immediately cupping your face with his hands, wiping your tears. “is everything okay?”

the dam breaks and he just pulls you into his chest, letting you cry your heart out. he shushes any apologies you cry out. why were you so adamant on thinking that you were a burden to him? burdens are pushed on people against their will and he sure as hell isn't here against his.

and you think, how lucky you are to have wakatoshi around.

05. when you find him drenched from the rain. ushijima was returning from his latest championship and you had already warned him of the thunderstorm ready to rain down on Tokyo. you find him and his suitcase looking as if they've crossed a tsunami on the way to the apartment.

“toshi,” you quickly rush to find a towel to wrap around him. “what happened?” you ask. “did the cab not drop you directly here?”

he smiles sheepishly admitting that he had asked the cab to drop him off fifteen minutes away. when you ask why, he pulls out the flowers and cupcakes he brought from your favorite bakery.

“and I also brought your favorite manga,” he smiles. “i just missed you so much these two months.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes as you hug him, “i missed you too,” you whisper, buried in the crook of his neck. you pull away, “go change quickly now, we can't have our star player being sick. dinner is almost done.”

“i love you, darling,” he says before heading inside.

and just as you thought you couldn't fall in love with ushijima wakatoshi anymore, he manages to prove you wrong.

living life at your own pace isn’t a waste of time

let go of the idea that you have to be the best or do the most to be worth something.

ding!

. . . nanami kento. a promise not meant to be broken.

note. spoilers ahead.

there’s a saying that promises are meant to be broken.

although many lived by this, kento believed that it wasn’t right to do so. when kento makes a promise, he knows that he may own up to it through and through—a silent oath to himself, perhaps a reassurance.

he holds his promises close to his heart, and there was never a time when kento made a promise and didn’t keep it. he was a man of his word, and he considered this to be one of his best traits as a human and a significant other.

you were six when kento made his first promise to you.

“i promise to marry you someday!”

ah, you two were so young back then. 

the innocence that a child possesses with their simple declarations of affection and love is so adorable, you just nodded happily, not understanding the concept of marriage that well—though your parents did tell you that marriage was something that two people who are sure to spend their lives together would commit to. kento, back then, was much more cheery and bright—just like a beaming bee that was buzzing with excitement.

“yay!”

you could only nod excitedly at him, and kento’s smile was definitely glued to his face for the rest of the day.

when kento made his second promise to you, you were both in your first-year at tokyo jujutsu high. 

“what’s this?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“a promise ring,” he simply replies. “i know it may seem silly to engage in something like this, but i just wanted to—“

he didn’t even finish his sentence as you couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

he gave you a curious glance; his head tilts to the side, his eyes furrowing in the ever-so-slightest of confusion. “is something the matter?”

“i’m sorry, kento,” you say, making an honest attempt to keep your laughter to yourself. “i just really like your hair. it’s very interesting how you manage to get your soft hair to look like that specifically.”

kento gives you a certain look, unamused by you poking fun at his hair, though he did not pay much mind to it, smiling to himself as he sees that beautiful smile of yours as you continue to laugh at him.

it was cheesy for kento to admit that your smile always made his day a bit brighter and better, so he just never said it verbally, and yet the fond, tender look in his eyes always gave it away.

“i promise to always stay out of trouble and to always take care of myself when dealing with curses,” he says to you, and it’s the way that his words seemed so desperate to let you know that he was being sincere and truthful to himself.

a plea, a vow, to you, his future spouse.

not only was he going to do this for himself but for you as well.

kento flicks your forehead when he notices that your jaw is hanging open.

“you’ll catch flies in your mouth.”

and everything was history after that.

“you’ll be back before our trip to malaysia, right?” you ask, swiftly tying your husband’s necktie.

“of course, of course,” he softly replies.

you two are twenty-eight now. happily married and would be celebrating your second anniversary in kuantan, malaysia soon enough. it was something that you two planned out with excellent precision, knowing that your schedules were always full and were hard to match with each other.

“i promise.” he says, and a soft, chaste kiss is placed on your cheek after his words. 

“i’m always where i need to be on time, no?”

you nod at his words, smiling. “you better be. this trip took away months of my lifespan just to plan out.”

kento chuckles, and it’s one of those times when he indulges you in hearing his genuine, amused laughter. it’s one of those times when nanami feels like he could take on the world with you by his side. 

it feels surreal, but it is a definite reality.

“i love you, kento. be safe, ok?” you murmur to him.

“of course, love. i promise.”

he promised.

and yet, as the news of his unfortunate death was delivered to you, you swore your heart was being crushed a billion times over. was this some sort of sick joke? no, that couldn’t be. a matter like this should never be joked about.

there’s a saying that promises are meant to be broken.

you didn’t think too much of this saying, seeing that kento was more than capable of living up to his promises, even if it killed him.

even if it killed him.

kento’s promise to you was a promise not meant to be broken. 

but alas, you could always forgive him, right?

you could forgive him as you mourn in his empty grave with only his treasured belongings buried with his casket, right?

you are twenty-eight when kento says his final promise to you. an unfulfilled promise, at that.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

he's sooo...🧎🥹. all these ushiwaka crumbs makes me 💘💘. ty noo 🫶🫶, now i have a new addition to my delulu hours 🤜 ⌚⌚

haikyuu boys + acts of service !

feat. sakusa, tendou, bokuto, atsumu, ushijima

"'omi, i can do this on my own, you know."

"you say that while not trying to move away." kiyoomi noted, almost sounding smug in a way. your words, unfortunately held little effect, considering how you were perched on the toilet lid, cheek leaning on his palm. his other hand was sliding cleanser over your skin, suds forming on it. 

you sighed defeatedly, letting him continue his ministrations. he did your whole routine with diligence, watching you do your skincare every night probably imprinted your routine into his memory at this point. 

he loved spending moments like this with you. he could just enjoy the comfortable silence while doting on you, free excuse to run his fingertips over your skin and memorize every bit of it. they were calloused, and yet his touch was more comforting than anything else you've ever felt. 

after patting the last bits of your moisturizer into your skin, he stood up to his full height, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. he wiped his hands on a towel before sliding them over to either side of your face. he tilted your face up, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. pulling away, he grimaced slightly at the feeling of your moisturizer now somewhat on his lips. 

you giggled, pushing yourself from where you sat, wrapping your arms around your waist and pressing more moisturizer-covered kisses over his face. his scowl deepened, though he didn't make any effort to push you away, he'd endure it, he enjoyed your affection a bit more than how he disliked the feeling of your moisturizer, he notes to himself. 

"and she pulled out screenshots! god, i've never seen someone's face go so pale so quickly." 

satori let out a dramatic gasp, stilling the hand that was carefully painting your thumb. "no way." you nodded vigorously, giggling at his reaction. 

"yeah." you confirmed. it almost felt like a teenage sleepover, what you and satori were doing right now. the both of you sat with your legs crossed, facing each other as he painted your nails with experienced swipes. 

"not surprised though. he totes had it coming!" satori comments in a sing-song tone. he dipped the brush into the bottle, wiping it on the rim before bringing it to your index finger. you could tell he was focused, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as his eyes squinted. 

"y'know, you're doing a pretty good job.." you noted, admiring the clean coats on your nails. he giggled, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, careful to not bump into your freshly painted nails, then one to your lips.

he then leaned back and stared at you with a goofy grin, stretching his hand out to your face, wiggling his fingers. "now paint mine next!" satori chimed. you sighed, shaking your head with a grin, though picking out a bottle of dark nail polish nonetheless. 

"yeah, and then i went like wham! and the ball slammed into their side!" 

you nodded along, smiling at koutaro's enthusiasm. the constant shine in his eyes when he talked about volleyball was something you could never get tired of, his hands moving around to further express what he was talking about. 

as he rambled, his gaze trailed down to your shoes, then back to your face, then back to your shoes with comically wide eyes. you tilted your head at his actions, a confused smile resting on your face. 

"kou, what's wrong?"

"hold on, baby. just gotta—" 

he dropped to his knee, shifting around to tie your shoelaces. he fumbled for a while, untying and retying it a few times. you stood there, silently watching him tie your shoelaces with an amusing amount of focus. 

he stood up, nodding and flashing you a wide grin. "wow, what a gentleman." you mused, almost dreamily before a small chuckle left you. he laughed boisterously, "can't let the love of my life walk around with untied shoelaces. that's unsafe!" he slipped his hand into yours, continuing his ramble with a proud smile. 

you unlocked the door to your shared house with a sigh, wanting nothing more than to slip your shoes off and flop into your bed, maybe sleep for the next sixty-eight hours.

you barely had to step foot in there before atsumu greeted you, his arms wrapping around your frame as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. you buried your head into the crook of his neck and shoulders, your own shoulders visibly relaxing at his touch. 

"hi, 'tsum. is it alright if we have takeout tonight? work killed me." your eyes were already closed as you spoke, leaning all your weight onto him. "no need," he leaned back to admire your tired face, pressing a small kiss against your temple. "i already made us dinner." he declared proudly, a smirk resting on his face. 

"you cooked?" 

"mhm." he nodded confidently, you shot him an unconvinced look. "...and it's edible?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips curling into an amused smile. 

"hey!" 

you shrugged, "just thought osamu took all the cooking genes." 

"well, we just so happened to share! can't say the same about the looks department..."

"yeah, you were seriously unlucky there." 

atsumu gasped, shooting you a look of absolute betrayal. "your kind, generous, drop dead handsome boyfriend went out of his way to cook dinner, and this is how you repay him?!" 

your shoulders shook as you laughed, and gingerly took his hands in yours, leading him to the dining table. there sat an uncharacteristically pristine plate of rice balls, his chest puffed up in pride as your eyebrows raised in mild surprise. 

you hate to admit it's romantic. especially if you ignore the five containers shoved in the depths of your fridge, filled with his failed attempts, and his messages with his twin, begging for tips on how to cook without burning the kitchen down. 

"are you almost done?" 

you offered wakatoshi a noncommittal hum. "few more edits, and i'll be finished." the sound of clicking filled the room as you mindlessly typed away at your keyboard, eyes glued to the screen. 

he nodded, then turned around, and walked out of the room. you took your attention away from what you were writing for a few seconds to glance at the empty spot where your boyfriend had been sitting. a part of you had considered getting up to find him, but alas, this paper was due in an hour. 

a few minutes later, he returned. a glass of water in one hand, and a small bowl of sliced apples in the other. he placed them on your desk before moving behind you. his hands made their way to your shoulders, carefully massaging them as if pushing too hard would cause you to shatter.

it was amusing, how his large stature contrasted his gentle touch with you. you could almost forget that this was the same man ranked among the top three aces in japan, the same man with some of the most monstrous spikes. he'd trade his force for a moment of pure gentleness and care with you. 

you leaned into his touch like it was second nature, your head touching his torso. your eyes automatically fluttered shut as a content sigh left you. the dull ache in your shoulders from being hunched over your computer for hours seemed to completely wash away from his ministrations. 

"thanks, toshi." you mumbled, moving a hand from your keyboard to his hand, giving him a small squeeze. a noise of acknowledgement left him, it was deep, rumbling from his chest as he offered you a small, but genuine smile. wakatoshi knew he wasn't the best with his words, but he hoped these small actions spoke enough about his love for you.

an irl gave me these ideas, luv u and ur big brain greyps!!!

ding!

. . . ushijima wakatoshi. if you ever forget that you love me.

note. timeskip content + spoilers for the manga franchise ahead. inspired by a song that my lovely @yeonruco recommended, it's if you ever forget that you love me by isak danielson!

arguments with your husband were a rare occurrence.

but the chances of it not happening were not guaranteed when you sealed in your simple, intimate vows; this does not mean that you two didn’t make the effort and time to talk things through whenever exhaustion and workload made the retaliations blunt and evidently heated.

your husband, wakatoshi, was a patient man.

his patience could reach for miles and back, but there were just days when he felt so exhausted from volleyball practice that his attitude could come off as cold and blunt. you’ll be able to tell that he was not in the mood to argue further with you when he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he’ll then suggest that he’ll be sleeping on the guest bedroom—sleeping much earlier than he would on a normal day.

usually, your arguments simmer down after a day or two. though this one went on for literal weeks.

stubbornness clung onto the both of you, which was rare, not wanting to admit that they were in the wrong, even though both were to blame and could be considered to be in the wrong in this argument.

conversations were kept to a minimum, and still, you two ate dinner together, a silent oath to yourselves and reassurance that no matter how much you two ignored one another throughout the day, you still loved each other.

of course, wakatoshi is the first to apologize, since this whole petty argument started because he wasn’t in the mood to entertain your silly question when you asked him so nicely and even told him beforehand as his day just began at that time.

when you entered the bathroom and glanced at the mirror to carry out your usual routine, what was once a squeaky-clean mirror now had a little note on the bottom right corner.

good morning. you look stunning, as always. :) i made your favorite breakfast. we’ll talk about our argument when i get home later, ok? i love you, now and forever.

now and forever is what he always told you, and wakatoshi says it, whether it’s written neatly with a whiteboard marker or spoken with that soothing voice of his, you know he means it through and through. no questions are asked. nothing to argue about there because when he says now and forever, he means it with everything he could ever offer.

a smile made its way to your lips as you read this.

at the kitchen table, a plentiful variety of your favorite was indeed, made, along with a note that was written on a sticky note. curious, you took your time to read through the simple message your husband had left you.

have a wonderful breakfast, love. i already ate before i went to practice, and i didn’t want to wake you up so we could have breakfast together because you came home exhausted last night.

the end of his note is sealed with a small heart, and your day is instantly brighter than the days before.

wakatoshi snuggles closer to you, considering that the argument has been resolved. he’s missed this and he couldn’t wait to bask in your attention, and make up for the time lost over some petty argument. to him, time is gold.

“love, about your question.”

“hm?”

“your question before our argument.”

“oh? what of it?”

“while i do love you, waxing my legs before an important friendly match is not ideal.”

“what? why not?”

“y/n, love. that hurts,” he replies, basing his answer on experience.

“it was one time,” you huff. “and i’ve gotten better at it now!”

safe to say that you two went to bed with lots of laughter after that.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

nanami kento carries band aids in his wallet in case they are ever needed (unbeknownst to you) and one day, when you’re grocery shopping, he sees you walk with the slightest limp.

“whats wrong?”

you’ve stopped to pick out some tomatoes. “what do you mean?”

“you’re limping,” he says, hands on the shopping cart. “are you hurt?”

“oh. i’ve got a blister,” you respond nonchalantly, drop a fat tomato into a plastic bag. “but i really like these shoes and i forgot to put a band aid on.”

he kneels, much to your surprise, takes out his wallet and out of the leather, a band aid. he takes your foot out of your shoe, peels down your sock and unwraps the band aid.

he applies it with ease, returns your foot into your shoe gently, stands to his full height.

you’ve got stars in your eyes.

“next time, pick some comfortable shoes, sweetheart.” he plants a kiss on your lips, pushes the cart over to the avocados.

“god, i think i love you, kento.”

a light smile quirks his lips upward, his tired eyes gleam. “i think i love you too.”

ding!

. . . tsukishima kei. observant boyfriend things.

kei’s an observant person. he’s the type of person who knows there’s something wrong, even with the most subtle clues. it’s safe to say that there will never be a day where you successfully hide something from your boyfriend, not when he can read you like an open book in broad daylight.

“what’s with the sour look on your face?” he asks, though it’s quieter than he meant.

“nothing,” you reply with an uptight smile.

“you look constipated.”

“hey!”

he sighs. “how’d your volleyball tryout go?”

kei remembers a couple of nights ago when you told him that your school was holding tryouts for an upcoming sports week. he also remembers the time you told him that you used to play volleyball in middle school, and it didn’t take much to convince him that you were a decent middle blocker.

“i’m gonna die of embarrassment.”

“it didn’t go well, then,” he concluded with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“kei, i made a fool of myself!” you whine, letting him carry your bag. “my serves were sloppy, barely making it above the net—which was set too tall, by the way—my receives were lacking, and my blocks—they’re left unspoken of.”

“what’s wrong with your blocks?” kei asks you. “they were fine when you forced me to practice with you.”

“force is a strong word,” you counter, poking his arm with emphasis.

“i simply bribed you with snacks!”

“which i paid for.”

“and lots of kisses.”

“those are already a given in this relationship, idiot.”

“stop being mean, beanpole.”

“not my problem; i grew and you didn’t.”

you nudged at his side, earning a slight and playful groan from your boyfriend. “i am not that short! whatever, let’s just not talk about my blocks.”

“mm. let’s stop by a pharmacy, too.” he says, noticing how you fiddled with your bruised fingers. those were nasty for something as simple as volleyball tryouts. if anything, he would’ve assumed that you got them from an actual match against a prestigious school like shiratorizawa.

“yeah, it hurts,” you murmur.

“that’s because you're fiddling with them; quit it,” he scolds you with a sigh. “i’m sure you did well. if you could block those volleyball idiots’ quick, you already did well.”

“you know, kei, it’s nice when you care,” you smile.

“i always care.”

“and you always carry my bag as you should.”

“i care, y/n. i think you’re the one who needs glasses if you can’t see that.”

“oh, and when you’re attentive or observant too.”

“are you even listening?”

“nope, but i love you.”

“mm.”

“say it back! please! i know you care lots about me and i’m now listening, so say it back!”

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.