Ding!

ding!

. . . miya atsumu. may the world never crumble beneath your feet.

“what’s wrong with ya?”

there’s an unusual silence that follows atsumu’s simple question.

“hey?” he says again, a bit concerned now that you didn’t answer the first time. “what’s wrong? somethin’ on yer mind?”

still, nothing from you.

“hey, y/n.” he tries again, hoping that you will answer this time around. “is somethin’ botherin’ ya? tell me an’ i might be able to help.”

“i don’t know, ‘tsumu.” you confess, and he notices the way your hands tremble as you speak. “i really, really don’t know.”

without another word from atsumu, he engulfs you in a warm embrace. his hold on you is soft—delicate even. it’s times like these that you remember that atsumu wasn’t just that volleyball player who likes to annoy you once you step inside the gym; he wasn’t just the twin of his brother, but he was also his own person, and that person was your friend.

someone you can depend on.

someone you can show your vulnerability to.

someone who’d be there for you for anything.

“yer not alone, y/n. ya always seem ta forget that, but ‘ll always be here to remind you of that.” he coaxes.

that was all it took to have you sobbing in his arms, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions that you had bottled up for who knows how long.

atsumu’s honest attempt to comfort you in the best way he could, the way he knows how. it was hard for him to even see you like this. he may seem like the type to not care for others feelings, but he does; he cares, especially for those who he loves.

“i’m scared.” you confess. “i’m scared of the future, ‘tsumu.”

he listens carefully as you speak your truth. “it’s ok ta be scared, y/n.” he replies as he holds you closer to him. “the uncertain’y of what the future has in store for us may be a bit intimidatin’, but we’ll always have each other, right?”

he says this with a smile. “and we’ll take baby steps, remember? that’s what ya always told me,” he says this happily. “baby steps, an’ we’ll eventually get there.”

you quiet down a bit upon hearing atsumu’s reassuring words. you never pegged him as the type to be able to pull off such a thing, and yet you were internally grateful to be here right now, in his arms, as your sobs soon turned into soft, quiet sniffles.

as atsumu holds you in his arms, he hums a soft tune, noticing that you were calming down. he hopes and prays to the gods out there that may the world never crumble beneath your feet.

but when it does, atsumu will always be by your side.

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

if all you did today was get through today, it’s good and it’s enough.

ding!

. . . tsukishima kei. sweeter when i’m with you.

“did you even use a recipe—“

“yes, tsukishima. i did.” you answer.

continuing to apply frosting to your freshly baked cupcakes, you did your best to ignore the man in front of you. culinary class was fun, especially if your class was tasked with making a simple dessert for a graded activity. however, it was not that fun when you have a snarky middle blocker who always had a way to get through your nerves—watching you work throughout the process of creating such a sweet dessert.

even your sweet desserts would turn salty whenever he was around.

kei hums, amused by your response. “did you now?” he replies with that all-knowing smirk plastered on his stupidly good-looking face. “and what happened to calling me by my first name?”

“i changed my mind, that’s all.” you shrug, and he has the audacity to be the one frowning in this conversation. “it’s better to keep things professional, tsukishima. wouldn’t you agree?”

he huffs. “whatever,” he murmurs, propping his elbows on the counter, his head resting on his palm as he gazes up at you—just . . . admiring how you skillfully worked with the fluffy strawberry frosting—not that he’d ever admit it out loud, no way.

with the silence that followed, he quickly grew bored. “can i have some?” kei asks, eyes darting toward the strawberries you had cut specifically in the shape of little hearts for decorations.

“i don’t know, can you? what’s the magic word?”

“fuck you.”

“that’s not the magic word,” you coyly said to him. “i guess i’ll just give these extra strawberries to the volleyball team,” the thought wasn’t a bad one either, “maybe even have hinata or kageyama try these cupcakes i made once it’s graded.”

“no,” he says, slightly glaring at you.

now, it’s your turn to be amused. “no? did i hear that correctly, tsukishima?”

“it’s kei to you,” he corrects, softly this time. his expression was no longer stern, but this time, rather, it was one of slight annoyance and even pouting. “and . . . can i please have the extra strawberries?” he tries again, and for the first time in all the time you’ve known him, he looks at you with this soft, endearing look—as if he were some sort of kicked puppy by the street, begging to be adopted.

“see? it doesn’t kill you to be nicer to me,” you say, feeding him a strawberry or two—which he didn’t mind.

from the other stations, your classmates watched with either surprised or puzzled expressions after they’d witnessed your interaction with kei. even your teacher couldn’t help but ask, “are those two. . . ?” to which your classmates couldn’t answer either.

kei is definitely sweeter when he’s with you.

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

懐古 💭 : each time i push the thoughts away, you're pulling me in

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.”

ding!

. . . ushijima wakatoshi. not one for the romance books.

“you hold feelings for me?”

he’s a bit taken aback by the confession that wakatoshi just couldn’t help but blink for a few seconds, unsure of what to do with this information. dealing with an out-of-the-blue confession before volleyball practice was not on his agenda for today—so what should he do?

there you stood in front of him, fidgeting with your fingers as you couldn’t even meet his gaze, an apprehensive smile on your lips. you’re nervous and unsure of your timing, he assumes. your body language seemed a bit stiff as well and he could tell by this that you weren’t really planning on confessing your feelings to him now.

maybe it was just a sudden change of plans on your end.

but you finally said it; you finally confessed.

“you— you don’t have to reciprocate!” you quickly add, not wanting to force him into anything that makes him uncomfortable or something that he never even considered. “i just,” you took in a short breath, “i just wanted to say it.”

wakatoshi thinks over his words carefully. you’re his classmate and his friend; he doesn’t want to leave you heartbroken, but he’s conflicted about what to say.

it certainly isn’t just turning down someone who confessed to him—he’ll admit that it happened quite often, seeing as how he was well-known all across miyagi—it’s you. he’s going to reject your advances, and the thought made him frown ever so slightly.

“i’m sorry,” he replies, his tone smooth and laced with his familiar stoicism, though if you listen closely, you’ll hear that he really is apologetic. “i can’t say that i feel the same way.”

you waved your hands frantically to reassure him. “no, no! it’s alright, really.” you straighten your composure, a bit sheepish, even awkward, about the situation you conducted with your confession.

he nods, bidding you his goodbyes as he heads to the gym for his afternoon club activity.

you’re left to yourself in the back of your school building, absolutely defeated. you sigh, crouching down, your hands in your head. your thoughts are running a thousand miles per millisecond.

you made a fool of yourself.

you made your friendship with wakatoshi awkward.

you definitely want the ground to swallow you whole right now.

but on the bright side, you confessed. you got the feeling off your chest, and that counts for something, right?

though the scene that just happened was not one for the romance books. you slightly blame the romance shows and media you’ve been hooked on, but what else could you do?

wakatoshi does not feel the same way.

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

👑Happy Birthday Nanamin 👑

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader wc; 900+ genre; fluff a/n; prompt request for @luvnami <33 hope you like it!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The ‘U’ in Ushijima must stand for uncertainty, you’ve come to realize.

You suppose you could say the two of you were ‘dating’ — by a far stretch of the word. That is, if you could consider nightlong FaceTime calls and cheering him on at volleyball games dating.

You hadn’t even realized he was interested in you until Tendou pointed out that no, in fact, it was not normal for the Shiratorizawa ace to be following someone around campus like some love sick puppy,  and no, Tendou has never seen his partner smile, let alone smile at another person.

You had always thought Ushijima was always just… there. But now, he was making his presence known, and suddenly your vision was filled with nothing but him.

And maybe there was something charming about how he always seemed to find you. And you’ve discovered that Ushijima speaks exactly what was on his mind — it comforts you to know that he means what he says, and he says what he means.

And yet, it is exactly this bluntness that’s become the source of your confusion in the first place.

“So, are you guys going out?” Tendou had dared to ask one sunny afternoon during lunch time, picking at his food and staring at the two of you from above his chopsticks.

“Yes,” Ushijima answers instantly, wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Your heart beats faster at the certainty of his words, sharing a surprised glance with Tendou.

That is, until Ushijima says, “Y/N has P.E. after lunch, so I will have to walk her outside.”

You physically had to stop yourself from banging your head on the table.

Tendou was not one to give up so easily though, opting for a more direct approach.

“No, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou sighs out exasperatedly, “I mean, are you guys together?”

You held your breath, wanting to know the answer just as much as the middle blocker did.

“Yes, we are together,” Ushijima says with his usual monotonous voice, though you don’t let yourself get too excited.

“We are eating our lunch together, Satori. Can’t you see?”

The school bell had rung as Tendou began his third attempt, and promptly the conversation had been swept away amongst the crowds of students trying to get back to class.

Keep reading

NANAMI KENTO || yours

request: bestie i saw that you’re open for request so hear me out 👀 what about a husband’s duty but with Nanami? 😳 I’d like to think there must be people around thinking that he is a stoic as he is with his s/o when we all know he’s a soft, gentle lover 🥰

(I hope i don’t sound pushy in my request. I really LOVE your writings especially the domesticity ones Nanami 💕)

note: domestic!nanami is always in my head because the man is a comfort character and my standard when it comes to husband hunting - like pls sir 🥲🥲 give my crusty ass a chance. 

pronouns: them/they, afab!reader/use of kimono (traditional female clothing)

nanami kento masterlist  |  jujutsu kaisen masterlist

“Who do you think got married to Nanami-san?”

It was that time of the year again - where sorcerers gathered at the grand hall located at Jujutsu Tech; everyone mingling between one another in hopes of rubbing shoulders while also getting the latest scoop of Curse and Curse Users activities alike. Rumours flew about as usual - who would get married next, who was the sorcerer who blew up the other side of Kyoto two weeks ago, and which poor soul was being harassed by Gojo Satoru. However this time around, there was whispers of something more exciting; some say scandalous, even.

“I don’t know…but whoever that person is, they must have a few screws loose,” One of the men seated at the corner of the ballroom admitted to his companion, both of them sharing a laugh before they returned to their attention to the crowded ballroom before them. Or more so, to a specific blonde sorcerer who was nursing a glass of whiskey at the other end of the ball room.

Nanami leaned his elbow on the edge of the standing table beside him, ignoring the whining Gojo that was nested on his side as his dark brown eyes glanced around the room without a specific target in mind. Like any other day he was dressed in a suit; creaseless and almost too perfect for how much movement his job requires. The only thing that truly stands out on his day-to-day outfit would be the silver wedding band that rests on his ring finger; silver polished so well that it shone even at his slightly of movements.

When Nanami’s marriage had been revealed to the jujutsu world (courtesies of Gojo), it sent shockwaves throughout. Not only are weddings huge social events, where you invite everyone you can think of to increase your contact building, it’s also shocking that Nanami even chose to get married while still being an active sorcerer. Of course, Nanami had chosen an intimate and private service, which had angered many of the older generations; since they felt almost entitled to go to every wedding that happens in their world. 

But Nanami had never really cared of what others’ opinions; hence his calmness from the moment he entered the hall filled with people whispering and staring at him expectantly.

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halloo! just here to stop by and say that i luv your fics especially the ones ft. my bbs; ushiwaka and nanamin ♡!! your angst fics always tug my heartstrings and the ironic thing is that i'll still let you bring me to tears cuz that's how much i love uuu. thank u for also checking out my themes from my mbs blog :)). you're always appreciated! <3 keep up the beautiful entries in your lovely blog! (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）

- nanamin's bakerist 🍞🥖

ding!

yeon, yewonroo, yeonru, ieownru, yeonnie ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა stop! those words coming from one of my favorites in the whole entire milky way? i’m soft, and very happy ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა i’ll always dedicate most of my kento and wakatoshi fics to you because you’re just so amazing, huhu. thank you for providing such awesome layouts + moodboards because 80% of my blog theme all came from you! <33 i love you too, yeonnie (nanamin’s one and only baker of his favorite pastries, mwah)! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა