Latest Posts by yeonruco - Page 2

[13:25] miya osamu sobbing bcs @ufo-ikawa made me listen to free love by honne & i automatically thought of samu

“tsum’s always third-wheeling us, but where is he when we need him?” you huff, using the collar of osamu’s worn t-shirt to wipe away the sweat on your forehead. “this would go a lot faster if he were here.”

it’s the middle of summer, it’s way too hot, and the air conditioning in osamu’s newly purchased storefront is still broken. yet here the both of you are anyway, painting walls in the muggy afternoon heat of downtown osaka.

osamu makes a sound of agreement just as his phone buzzes in his pocket, wiping his hand on his paint-streaked shirt before grabbing it and glancing down at the screen. “oh, this is the scrub now saying…he’s at some resort in tokyo with his girl.”

“wait, the one he met last month?” you ask, dropping the paint roller into its tray when he hands you the phone, a selfie of his brother lounging on a pool chair on the screen. “wow, a month into the relationship and he’s already whisking her off to a resort? lucky girl.”

osamu’s got an odd look on his face as you hand the phone back. “he, uh, said he’d be back on tuesday to help us move the furniture in, though.”

“that’s good,” you shrug, picking up your roller and resuming your neat strokes of light grey paint. “i already know he’s gonna be eating here all the time, so we need to make sure he pulls his weight before opening.”

he hums in acknowledgement, resuming his painting beside you. when you look over, he’s got a comtemplative look on his face, brows pulled down and mouth pressed into a tight line.

“let’s take a water break,” you propose when you can tell he’s pulled a little too far into his head by…by something. in the five years you’ve dated him, you know that osamu’s like this. sometimes his thoughts are a little too loud, and whatever they are right now are screaming at him, drowning out reason.

he hears you, though, dropping his roller into the tray before taking a seat in the middle of the tarp-covered floor (flooring the both of you had installed yourselves with the help of a youtube tutorial). you reach into the cooler, grabbing two bottles of water before lowering yourself to the ground next to him, handing him a bottle of water before uncapping your own.

“i’d understand, you know,” he murmurs quietly once you’re settled.

you watch him out of the corner of your eye, noting the way his restless hands pick at the label on the bottle. he’s nervous. “understand what?

he’s not looking at you, staring straight ahead. “if ya wanted to leave.”

you chuckle, taking a gulp before screwing the cap back on, pressing the cool bottle to your cheek. “i’m not gonna leave before we’re done painting the edges. i’ll stay all night if i have to.”

“not the walls,” he says a little stiffly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i meant— i meant me. if ya wanted to leave me, i would…i would understand.”

you blink a few times, wondering if the heat was making you hallucinate or something. “osamu, why would i do that?”

“it’s just, you deserve more than— than this,” he gestured around at his half-assembled store. “i don’t have much. you know i poured a good chunk of my savings into leasing this place. i can’t take you to nice dinners on our anniversary or buy you pretty things, and now i’ve got you doin’ manual labour on your day off. you deserve better.”

“better?” you repeat, wondering if he’s hallucinating.

osamu shrugs, then lets his steady shoulders slump. “you…you deserve someone who can take you to tokyo.”

“but i don’t want to go to tokyo. it’s too—”

“crowded, i know,” he finishes, hesitantly meeting your gaze. “but you know what i mean.”

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly. “because you’re not making any sense right now. should i call an ambulance? is this heat stroke?”

he says your name exasperatedly. “i’m serious. you’ve got no obligation—”

“do you love me?” you interrupt.

“of course i do,” he answers without hesitation, and you can hear it, the desperate edge in his voice, the little part of him that says he doesn’t want to let you go.

satisfied, you uncap your water and take another drink. “then that’s that.”

he frowns a little. “but—”

you raise your brows at him. “unless you want me to date your brother?”

“what? no.”

“exactly.” you shuffle over to cup his face in your palms, the tip of your nose brushing his as he leans into your touch and you murmur, “i don’t need anything or anyone else.”

no one but osamu, who can’t take you to nice dinners but spent hours in the kitchen cooking up your favourite dishes on your anniversary last month. who seasoned everything to your liking and somehow made it compliment the cheapest bottle of wine you could find.

osamu, who can’t buy you nice things, but shows you everyday, in his own way, just how much he appreciates and loves you. who packs you a lunch every night and walks you to the train station each morning. who always lets you have the last slice or bite of anything, and holds your opinion on new dishes in the highest regard.

osamu, who is willing to let you go because he thinks you deserve better. you don’t doubt he’ll give it all to you someday, when he can. but for now?

for now you’ll kiss his sweaty forehead in his half-built onigiri shop, the both of you streaked with paint and melting in the summer heat. but none of it matters because, well,

“all i need is you.”

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!

. . . inarizaki second-year trio. convince, convince.

“um.” rintarou clears his throat, taking a deep breath.

atsumu and osamu nod in his direction as they warily glance at your mother, who looked at them with a neutral expression on her face.

“good morning, mrs. l/n.” he says, his usual composed exterior coming back to him. “today, we have prepared a powerpoint to convince you to let y/n tag along on our outing tomorrow morning.”

the presentation changes to the following slide. “why you should agree to let your child join our simple outing: a powerpoint presentation made by suna rintarou, miya atsumu and miya osamu.”

your mother smiles quite a bit, and rintarou takes this as a sign from those who heard his silent pleas the night before.

“one. it would help build social connections, specifically memories with friends.” silly pictures of the twins bickering and even ones where you’re included in the background at school are what’s displayed.

“two. it helps with stress.” the next slide has a huge picture of atsumu’s face being absolutely red from eating an extra spicy dish that you and osamu dared him to eat. “according to a few studies, the company of friends would lighten one’s mood and overall performance throughout the day.” wow, they even had it cited properly—in the format of a true professional presentation.

“three. please, mrs. l/n. i can’t handle another outing with the twins; my brain cells are dropping at an alarming rate whenever i’m around them.” he sighs playfully, shaking his head. “fortunately, your child carries most of the brain cells our friend group has.”

the twins stare at rintarou with disbelief. atsumu was about to retort something when osamu held him back. they had to act on their best behavior to win your mother’s favor, after all.

one mistimed step, and she’ll surely refuse.

“four. we’ll be sure to have them home before the sun sets.”

“five. if anything happens, we’ll have atsumu to blame.”

that caught atsumu by surprise. “huh? why me?” he practically yells at rintarou, though he manages to keep his voice down.

“because it was your idea to actually wear formal suits just to deliver this presentation,” he replies.

“hey! it adds flare, don’t it?” atsumu reasons. “ya would’ve worn somethin’ else that doesn’t look professional at all, suna!”

osamu sighs to himself. “keep it down, you shits.” he quickly covers his mouth, realizing his language in front of your mother. “i– i am sorry for my language, mrs. l/n. i swear– ‘m not always like this, swear. i’m not a bad influence on your child, promise.” he tries to reassure her.

the other two looked at you and then at your mother; they were silent.

you, on the other hand, were holding in your laughter. you honestly didn’t expect osamu to use such language in front of your not-so-impressed mother.

she pinches the bridge of her nose, a small smile on her lips. “there’s no need to apologize. i can tell that you and your friends really are persistent to have y/n join you, even going as far as wearing these presentable suits in this hot weather.” atsumu nudges rintarou with a look that says ‘see? it helped!’ “creating a powerpoint presentation and bringing a projector in our home—” rintarou had an eager glint in his eyes as he listened, “made an honest attempt in showing your best behavior in front of your friend’s mother,” osamu smiles sheepishly.

“i’m delighted to know that you are y/n’s friends. what you showed me convinced me well enough.” the three, along with you, cheer as she says this.

“you may have y/n join you three whenever or wherever you want, as long as you tell me or their father beforehand.”

rintarou nods. “thank you, mrs. l/n. fuck, we actually did it. it’s like when we did our thesis defense.”

“rintarou!” you chuckled, and the twins happily thanked your mother.

the three could definitely say they had a knack for convincing and really put in the effort on rare ocassions, especially when it came to you.

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

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.

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.

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.

Keep reading

cop: you’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. toji: shit! gojo!reader: wait, three? cop: yeah? tsumiki: OH MY GOD MEGUMI FELL OFF!!!

Gojo: Must be hard not being able to laugh

Nanami: I do have a sense of humor you know

Gojo: I’ve never heard you laugh before

Nanami: I’ve never heard you say anything funny

JJK CHARACTERS AS VINE QUOTES

• Itadori Yuuji — Mom made me potato wedges! Just kidding, made them myself. Be cool to have a mom though 😗

• Nanami Kento — No off topic questions. Because I don't want to. No, permission denied. That's an off topic question. You have been stopped.

• Naoya Zenin — Four female Ghostbusters? The feminists are taking over! I'M AN ADULT VIRGIN

• Maki Zenin Naoya: sorry I fell asleep, I was waiting on you to make me a sandwich — Go back to sleep and STARVE

• Yoshino Junpei — Yall ugly *poofs away*

• Inumaki Toge — Yo what's the scoot? PENIS

• Ryoumen Sukuna — Ah, ☝ I'm not finished. First off, oh my god, can you let me do what I need to do

• Okkotsu Yuta — Hi my name is Derrick *gasps* let me guess, pizza? *faints*

• Ijichi — I'm in me mom's car, vroom vroom

• Todo Aoi to Takada Chan — I love you, bitch, I ain't never gonna stop loving you, BITCH

• Fushiguro Megumi — You know what? I'm going to say it. I don't care that you broke your elbow.

• Kugisaki Nobara Maki: Bring the beat in — Anything for you, my queen!

• Gojo Satoru — People are constantly asking me. What's it like being a sexy— *falls*

• Mahito talking to the sewer rats — So I was sitting there, barbecue sauce on my tiddies

• Choso Yuuji: WHAT ARE THOOOSEEE?? — THEY. ARE MY. CROCS.

• Noritoshi Kamo — IRIDOCYCLITIS

• Itadori Jin — I want a church girl that go to church...aNd rEaD hEr bIbLe

When you mention breaking up in an argument (Iwaizumi, Sakusa)

genre: angst fluff

word count: 2.2K

an: y/n is dramatic in this one like they are in everyone of my works but so dramatic and idrk how I feel about this one it’s a bit dumb but let me know what you think I hope you enjoy it

Reblogs are very appreciated

Sakusa

“Why have I never met your parents?” was the question you asked Sakusa that he struggled to answer. You knew you were being abrupt, but you’ve been wondering about this for a while, thinking about how you probably knew everything about your boyfriend but you never even met or barely heard of the two people that created his mere existence.

He never knew how to answer and he wanted to, seeing the dejected look you had on your face whenever you asked as you could already guess the answer he was going to give you.

Your relationship was great, nobody could argue that, and Sakusa was an exceptional boyfriend and you were so happy with that. Even before you were dating, there was a tug of longing between you both and you desired to get to know all about the boy who plagued your thoughts constantly, and you did eventually become the person who Sakusa loved the most, letting you know the most intimate parts about him.

But when moments like these arrived, when you asked him a question and he danced around the answer acting as if it was something he didn’t know or didn’t want you to know, you felt like the person who not so long ago didn’t know anything about Sakusa making you feel as if you being together wasn’t what you thought it would be.

Keep reading

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

for a while my question was “how does bokuto have both big brother and little brother energy at the same time” and i think i know the answer. he’s a youngest sibling but he’s also the cool older cousin at every family function that let you play on his phone and taught you how to do a cartwheel and made a competition out of making faces at each other behind the adults’ backs whenever conversation at the table got boring

🥐🍳 cause' you took me home, but you just couldn't keep me

f!reader, fluff

“haji, I told you ten times by now–”

you were not lying about this one, moving out together was a lovely moment that you were gonna treasure in your mind forever, but your boyfriend asking you every single time if you needed help picking up that single box was coming irritating

“–im a woman! I can pick up this by myself.”

with that you were off to try yet again to pick up that damn box, that if you didn't guess any wrong, it had fucking rocks inside

“im not saying you're not a woman, woman! I'm saying we could pick it up together or you could let it to me”

he was, in fact, having fun with your attitude and expressions while you tried to at least move the box “stop laughing hajime! it's not funny”

he didn't stop laughing, just dropped one of his hands to his knees while the other one wiped the tears going out his eyes

“you’re not gonna pick that up, babe” he said between giggles, trying to maintain eye contact with you

“why not? do you think I'm weak hajime? I'm not a weak woman hajime iwaizumi, watch your tone–”

he sat next to you, placed a hand in your thigh and proceeded to speak his thoughts out loud “ read the back of the box, love, I promise you're not weak”

“hajime if this is a fucking joke I swear— you're gonna be sleeping on the couch”

“read it”

rolling your eyes, you decided to turn the box to your side, with a little help of your boyfriend, even if you didn't want to admit it, the box was huge and heavy

gym weights

gym weights

“oh” you said, totally surprised, now you did understand why his biceps and thighs were so damn big and strong, that was heavy

“yeah 'oh' " he imitated your voice “lets do it together baby, ‘kay?”

yeonru's corner of the internet

personal account est. 2023 (@yeonruwu 's main acc)

hello everyone! sorry for the very late notice! you might've encountered this profile as "@/shinzotako", but there will be a lot of changes.

what happened to your anime edits? i just wanted to let you all know that i won't be posting any edits/layouts anymore here in this blog. i will also be archiving all my posts. if you follow me for the anime edits, layouts, aesthetics or any of the sort - feel free to unfollow now that i won't post stuff like that anymore. regardless, thank you for the hearts on my posts this past year.

current state of your acc? i have converted this into a personal acc hyperfixating on my current fandoms: hq, jjk, aot, tbhk, etc. this will be a reading account from now on. that's all, thank you! have a great day or night!

for @tsukkiangel ’s this magic moment collab

it’s the drive to his game alone that makes sakusa realize that he’s grown dependent on your company. the silence through his journey to the stadium, the lack of your voice singing along to the music you blare in the background, the absence of your fingers fiddling with the loose curls at the base of his neck, they’ve grown a part of him, and now it feels missing.

he’s restless when he has to start his game without a kiss from you sending him off, and by the third service ace he scores and doesn’t see you cheering when he turns to your usual seat, his heart is aching painfully in his chest, and he needs you to know he’s sorry. he figures you’re watching the game from home, that he’ll see you in a bit and he can make up for the argument then, but he still can’t focus.

and when the msby jackals lose their first game of the season, sakusa can’t help but shoulder the blame himself.

he drags himself through your front door, plopping down on your couch with his face in his hands, hunched over with both elbows resting on his thighs. it’s silent, and he knows he doesn’t deserve it—to be here in your home after how he acted, but he craves the catharsis your touch provides him, the warmth of your skin against his and the sweetness of your words as you whisper them against his forehead.

but sakusa figures he’s never deserved them in the first place, and he’s proved that last night. you’re bound to leave him behind by now.

but he’s pulled out of his thoughts when a hand is laid gently on his shoulders, a weight sinking down beside him as an arm wraps tightly around his waist, pulling him into a warm embrace.

“i saw the game, omi,” you whisper. “it’s okay, baby. sometimes you just can’t win them all. don’t let it get to you,” you mumble into his hair, and sakusa’s breath hitches, the curve of his lips exchanging the frown for a slight wobble, his fist clutching your shirt.

“i messed up,” he whispers, and his voice cracks in the middle. and he thinks the hole in his heart is nothing compared the gap your absence would leave him—he realizes he’ll miss the tiniest of things.

the way you shake your hands over the sink three times before moving to wipe them on a towel, the way you twist his doorknob even after he checks if he’s locked it before you both leave—just to double check as you always say, the way you carefully set up the pillows on your bed to lay how you want. they’re all habits he’s watched plenty of times, and they’re mundane to anyone else, but they’re precious to him.

you’re precious to him.

“omi, it’s one game, baby. and it wasn’t just you—”

“no, last night,” he interrupts. his chin is propped on your chest as he looks up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked—and just the slightest bit broken if you look deeper. “i…i messed up last night. i’m sorry. please…please don’t leave,” he croaks.

sakusa realizes the little crinkle of your nose when you smile at him is enough to turn his coldest days warm. he leans closer into you, cheek pressed against your chest as you hum.

“it’s just one fight, they’re bound to happen. i know you didn’t mean it,” you murmur. “i’m right here, aren’t i?”

glancing up, he crinkles his eyebrows. “you’re not mad?”

“i am, kiyoomi,” you glance down at him, booping his nose, and it’s his turn to crinkle his. “i’m still quite mad, but you need me right now. we’ll figure out last night later.”

oh.

sakusa realizes for the first time that he’s encompassed by a feeling so raw, so inexplicably and undeniably light, it makes him forget for a moment the despair of just a moment ago. he smiles into your chest.

he doesn’t hesitate a seconds longer to mumble “i love you.” and you pause, your fingers that thread through his hair coming to a halt as you process his words. he feels you press soft kisses along his forehead, taking extra care to gently kiss each mole at the end, like they’re something precious of their own in your heart too.

and that’s what love his, he realizes, finding the raw beauty in the tiniest, mundane things, looking past the large flaws for the little blessings in between. and it takes him the softness you still gift him despite the jaggedness he shows, but he knows this feeling is nothing but love, and he knows even past his jagged edges, you soften him up because you love him too.

and you prove it when you whisper “i love you too, omi.”

“So often we try to make other people feel better by minimizing their pain, by telling them that it will get better (which it will) or that there are worse things in the world (which there are). But that’s not what I actually needed. What I actually needed was for someone to tell me that it hurt because it mattered. I have found this very useful to think about over the years, and I find that it is a lot easier and more bearable to be sad when you aren’t constantly berating yourself for being sad.”

— John Green

“I will surround you with a love too deep for words.”

— Mumford & Sons // Rose of Sharon

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

— Abraham Verghese

if u are reading this, i’m sending u lots and lots of love, stay safe

do u ever zone out but ur aware that ur zoned out but ur too lazy to zone back in

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

stop defining yourself by what you lack. you are not the absence of qualities, you’re the presence of them.

Be gentle with yourself, you are healing.

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

love will feel (and maybe even be) so much more accessible when you stop thinking of it as this grand thing you have to be deserving of. it’s small, it’s in short moments, it’s in quick gestures, it’s in normal everyday things. when you think of it as something you have to discover or catch or deserve, you’ll miss how alive it already is all around you.

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

i am in severe distress. i am vibing. i am king of the world. i am bored. i am lost at sea. i am making coffee. i am foraging in the forest. i am making tea. i am chasing pigeons. i am napping in a chair

“Everything’s a risk. Not doing anything is a risk. It’s up to you.”

— Nicola Yoon (via thoughtkick)

please keep in mind that learning is always a process. learning to draw, dance, play an instrument, but also learning to say no, learning to start conversations, learning to be more comfortable in your own skin. it’s great setting goals for yourself, as long as you allow yourself to get there gradually instead of immediately wanting to be the best at it (and setting unrealistic standards for yourself because of it). change is rarely a single moment during which everything suddenly shifts, but rather a period of time in which you learn and adjust and improve. you’ll get there, but you must give yourself time to do so.