You’ve just gotten cozy in bed when your husband tells you, “You’re hot.”
“Thank you?” you replied, confused. “I’m not really in the mood tonight, though…”
Iwaizumi looked at you as if you’d grown another head. His brows are drawn together, mirroring your confusion.
“What? No, love, you’re hot.”
“I know I’m hot, Haji. You told me. And I told you I’m not in the mood.”
He sighed. “Hot-hot. You have a fever.”
“Oh?” You put a hand on your neck, feeling the temperature a lot warmer than usual. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“How’d you know?”
He shuffled around your bedroom, going through the cabinets that had extra blankets, medicine, and a thermometer he kept in your nightstand. Iwaizumi sat next to you, the bed dipping under his weight.
“You’re quieter than usual,” he answered eventually.
“That’s it? That’s not even—mmph!”
You could only glare at your husband when he unceremoniously gives you the thermometer.
“Rude. Is this how you treat your wife? That is ill?”
Iwaizumi chuckled. “Sorry, sorry. I forgot to tell you.” He offered you the blankets and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand to show that he truly was sorry. You’re not sure if you want to believe him given that cheeky smile on his face. “Be right back. I’ll make you something warm and get some water.”
“But we just had dinner—”
“Just a little hot soup? Please?”
“But I just brushed my teeth, Haji.”
“I’ll help you brush your teeth after.”
You stared at him. There was no way you could win this argument. Iwaizumi was quite stubborn when he wanted to be.
“Fine. I want egg drop soup, though.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
-
You’re about to fall asleep when Iwaizumi pulls you closer to him, murmuring, “You okay?”
“Mmh. Feels like it’s going to come down on me t’morrow.”
He shifted slightly, kissing your temple. “Weekend tomorrow. I’ll take care of you.”
You smiled, nodding along. Having a husband who could tell that you were about to fall ill just from the subtle tell-tale signs was a blessing.
iwaizumi catches you talking behind his back ; fluff
iwaizumi was looking for his water bottle in the clubroom after a grueling three-hour practice. the gym was quiet, the rest of the team already in the showers, when he heard your voice through the open window of the adjacent equipment shed. you were talking to one of the first-year managers.
“i don’t know, i just like guys who are dependable. like… someone who works hard without bragging about it.”
“like iwaizumi-senpai?” the manager asked.
“yeah,” you murmured softly. “exactly like him. he’s really reliable. and his arms are… well, you know.”
outside, iwaizumi completely short-circuited. he dropped his gym bag with a loud, echoing clatter against the concrete porch. his dark eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, and his face instantly turned a violent, agonizing shade of red under his dark bangs. he stood there like a statue, his heart hammering against his ribs so forcefully he was convinced the entire prefecture could hear it.
the shed door slid open immediately. you stepped out, holding a basket of volleyballs, and froze when you saw him standing there, looking like he had just witnessed a crime.
“iwaizumi!” you gasped, your own face burning. “how much of that did you hear?”
he cleared his throat, a loud, rough sound, his shoulders hunching up defensively as he slammed his hands into his tracksuit pockets. “the… the part about the arms,” he barked out defensively, his voice cracking slightly before he forced it down into a growl. he stepped right into your space, towering over you, his jaw set so tight a muscle was ticking. he looked terrifyingly intense, but his ears were glowing bright crimson. “if you want to talk about my arms, say it to my face. and… and i am dependable. i’ll walk you to the station every day from now on to prove it. so stop talking about me behind my back.”
n: for my beloved discord members, cs i’m outside rn lawl.. i can’t write fics ;(
❥ the many times you & suna get caught making out at school.
i. case one : the bleachers, during practice.
suna rintarou makes eye contact with you in between each successful block.
you ignore it. or try to. but your thighs are squeezing & he’s licking lips & you’re mean with want so you decide you can’t wait any longer. kita calls for a water break & you call rintarou to the stands. dumb dog doesn’t even hesitate.
“what.”
you mouth a come here & he raises a brow, but his feet shuffle after you regardless. he helps you over when you’re just about to stumble under the bleachers, & before the poor boy can regain a balance of his own you’re shoving him against the wall like he’s sack wheat.
he grabs your thighs like it’s instinct.
sugar lips. sticky gloss. heavy palm that can’t decide between your back & your throat. you’re pulling him deeper by the collar & he’s tapping your inner thigh desperately as if to say ‘baby baby lemme breathe’
“where the hell is suna?!”
but his tongue is down your throat so you don’t hear kita’s yell. suna’s palming your hips & squeezing your waist & you’re gasping his name while thumbing his neck and—
“AYOOOO,”
atsumu’s pointing to both of you with gaping mouth & widened eyes. “kita i found them! they’re doing foreplay under the—!”
you’re mortified. suna on the other hand? doesn’t even bother to wipe your saliva dribbling down his chin. he stares at atsumu with twitching brows & twisted face.
“you’re so annoying,” / “and you’re so in trouble”
atsumu doubles over as kita comes in & drags suna out by the collar. you on the other hand shuffle out quietly, quick to sneak away before you can fall victim to further embarassment.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.
offense: EXPLICIT BEHAVIOR IN STUDENT GYM
punishment : banned from entering the gym for a week.
issued by: kita shinsuke, sports president.
‘y/n, i expect better from you. and suna, you’re on probation.’
ii. case two : rooftop roughhousing
you think you’re so intelligent.
lunch break & you’re on the school rooftop with a skip in your step. you dragged suna rintarou away from his teammates during lunch & now he trails behind you with hands in his pockets as you hop unto the railing.
thighs crossed. hair in the wind. lopsided grin with blood drenched cheeks & eyes star-achingly bright. “tell me you love me.”
he’s rolling his eyes but his palms find your thighs. “i love you.”
you pout. “say it like you mean it.”
he kisses your neck instead.
you squeal, dodging suna’s kisses as he chases your lips with a grin. he pulls away teasingly before you tug him in by the tie.
you don’t hear the door unlock behind you.
rintarou’s tongue licks your molars. you kiss at his teeth & his thumb grazes your inner thigh as you giggle between his lips. he mutters something about how your gloss tastes like home before a voice sends a jolt down your spine:
“OUT.”
the home room teacher with obnoxious clipboard in hand & outfit desperate to align with the office siren aesthetic. you cling to suna as he quickly lifts you off the railing, palm still gripping your skirt even when he sets you on the ground.
busted.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.
offense: INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONS IN RESTRICTED AREA
punishment: detention.
issued by: madam keqing, homeroom teacher.
‘such behavior is not tolerated on school grounds. should this happen again, parents will be notified immediately.’
iii. case three : security snitching
suna’s tapping your thighs like it’s morse code for ‘mine.’
5PM thursday / behind the school gym / your fingers & suna’s belt loop. the middle blocker’s especially hungry today. god knows that thursdays mean you don’t get to share a single class with the athlete; so on days like this when school is long closed & you think no one’s watching he kisses you like he can’t fucking breathe.
point of empasis: you think no one’s watching.
the security camera overhead gets a front row seat to your antics. suna says your gloss spoils in the heat so you lick him off your wrist like honey. he’s pressing you against the wall with teeth on your earlobe like if he bites a little more you’ll seep into his skin. you let him unbutton your shirt & kiss you till he’s love-drunk & bleary eyed.
friday morning starts off in the vice-principal’s office.
black & white images neatly printed on the desk, a fan that blows just loud enough to cover up your feet tapping. you’re mortified. suna’s fingers, however, drum on your thigh like he’s not in trouble for kissing you silly on a midsummer day.
“what do you have to say for yourselves?”
“crazy work.”
you pinch him under the table. you don’t miss the grin that tugs at his lips as he takes a good look at the photos.
“interesting response, mr.suna,” the vice-principal’s eyes narrow. without them leaving suna he continues, “and ms. l/n ? i expect better from you. both your parents will be notified.”
you’re about to apologize & plead on your behalves, but suna notices the worry in your eyes & beats you to the punch.
“wait,” he clears his throat. “i have an explanation.”
“yes?”
“we’re in love.”
he says it like it’s the cure to all your problems. you resist the urge to slap him (and yourself).
“thank you, you are both dismissed. and again, your parents will be notified.”
busted.
again.
★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ STUDENT RECORD.
offense: EXPLICIT BEHAVIOR ON SCHOOL PROPERTY
punishment: parent report issued, two-day detention and required report on student ethics.
issued by: mr. ayato, vice principal.
‘inarizaki high makes it a point to ensure student safety by strictly prohibiting sexual or explicit acts on the premises. we hope ms.l/n will heed our warnings, regardless of whether or not she is “in love.”
Iwaizumi Hajime, who, when he first saw you in the crowd of Oikawa’s fangirls, knew he wouldn’t have a chance– not when you were into Oikawa.
Iwaizumi Hajime, who stared in shock when you separated from the gaggle of fangirls and headed over to him, shyly handing him an envelope, and a cold bottle of water.
Iwaizumi Hajime, who stumbled and stammered over his words, but nevertheless was able to mutter out a thank you. He replayed the smile you gave him that day over and over again. It became a problem when he got distracted during practice and got hit by the ball.
Iwaizumi Hajime, who, when he saw you again, was determined to not ruin this chance and struck up conversation, leading to him walking you to class, which eventually became routine.
Iwaizumi Hajime, who didn’t bother correcting Matsukawa and Hanamaki when they teased him about his crush on you, and only muttered a small “soon”, when they asked him if you were his girlfriend.
Iwaizumi Hajime, who confessed to you right before a match, and got your response at the end of it, with a kiss on the cheek and a cold bottle of water next to him. He had frozen in place, and ignored all the teasing the team and his friends were giving, only focused on the shy smile on your face and the blush that spread on your face, unaware of the same blush and smile on his face.
Iwaizumi Hajime, who waits for you at the end of the aisle years later with a watery smile, and eyes full of love.
osamu realized that suna was down bad for you very early on in your relationship.
you see, suna was a bit of a fickle guy. an "i do whatever the hell i want" kind of guy. a lot of his actions had no rhyme or reason and he did them based purely on amusement or simply "why not?"
for example, he had a little game he liked to play that osamu had no idea how suna got the idea for. whenever he'd meet unimportant strangers like baristas, cashiers, people on the street, he would completely lie to their faces about everything about himself.
he was not suna rintaro and he did not play volleyball. he'd give them different identities each time with a completely straight face like this was completely normal.
he'd tell the barista that he was in college and currently pledging to a fraternity. he'd tell the sweet old lady in the park that he was a single father of two trying his best. he'd tell the cashier that he was an italian fashion designer in a really oddly perfect accent.
"why d'ya do that?" osamu had asked him once.
"just 'cos," suna had answered nonchalantly, "why not?"
that was the thing about suna. he was hard to pin down.
why did he do this? for fun.
why did he do that? he just felt like it.
he was like a gust of wind; a wave at your feet. he did as he pleased when he pleased.
none of suna's "identities" had a particular pattern. he gave the strangers completely randomized names and incredibly detailed life stories that he would literally come up with on the spot.
one day, his name was akane, and he was studying biology at fukuro uni. he was born in okinawa, hence his dialect.
another, he was hizashi, and he had three beautiful baby girls that he was mighty proud of. they were all young, so they were quite a handful, but his mom was helping out, and he couldn't be more grateful for his family!
the next, he was kaito, and he just moved from his family's rice farm in akita. his family also grew fruit, like pears and apples. he moved to the city to try and fulfill his dream of having an acting career!
seriously, there was no point trying to make sense of him. osamu began to wonder if suna was some sort of social experiment bot put out by the government.
however, at some point, right around when you and suna had started talking, osamu began to notice something. suna's actions usually had one pattern: that there was no pattern. however, he began to notice that one was actually forming.
his identities and stories were still random, but there seemed to be a constant:
you.
even as watari, the aspiring engineer, he had a new girlfriend who's not good with mornings.
even as miyano, the very young grandparent, he had a lovely wife who liked to surprise him with backhugs.
even as tooru, the nice young man who volunteers at the animal shelter, he had a girl he was talking to that had the cutest smile.
every identity, no matter what age, background, career, preference, whatever, included a girl who sounded exactly like you.
it was then that osamu realized.
it didn't matter what form, identity, timeline, or universe suna had randomly picked that day for his own amusement.
he would find you, choose you, and love you in every single one.
notes: i feel like i saw something similar like a few years back but it was BL not 'x reader' and that was what inspired this but i cant find it. i dont know if im crazy and thought that up on my own or if im just stupid but if you see the original or if you're the original, let me know and i will credit you!
“kei, do you ever think about how strange it is that we've never fought?” you ask, limbs tangled with his as you cuddle on his bed.
it’s 10:03 PM and you’re doing your best to fight against the chilling, icy atmosphere of tsukishima’s room. for some reason, he likes to sleep like a vampire.
“do you want to?” he offers with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. tsukki doesn’t even open his eyes when he responds, too sleepy to entertain another one of your late night overthinking sessions.
“no,” you say calmly, “but we’ve been together for 7 months. we must either be like, the greatest couple of all time or the exact opposite.”
you feel his chest rise and deflate against your head as he lets an overly dramatic sigh.
you knew tsukishima kei wasn’t one for pda. hell, it was one of the things you loved about him. he knew how to make you feel loved without having to scream it to the world.
like that one time on one of your first dates, when you had accidentally fallen asleep on the soft grass of the park while waiting for his weekend practice to end. you woke up with a hand massaging your scalp.
“how long have you been waiting there?” you giggle, rising from your slumber as you rub your eyes awake. he pulls away, casually avoiding your gaze. “why didn’t you wake me?”
kei only shrugs, “you looked peaceful.”
or that other time you got sick for a week and couldn’t make it to school, so he immediately visited you as soon as you got better and brought his backpack with him.
“i got two copies of all the homeworks due next week, so you don’t have to ask the teachers for them.” he unpacks his notes and fishes out two pens from his bag before turning to you. “come, i’ll teach you everything you missed.”
your teachers praised you for how responsible you were, and told you how much they appreciated that you took the initiative to study.
yeah, you totally did that.
or like right now, and all the other nights you’ve spent at his place. because unbeknownst to you, tsukishima kei sets up his bedroom every single time you visit. he tidies up, cleaning even spots that you would never think to look at. but most importantly, and tsukishima knows this routine by heart, he turns the a/c to the highest setting so you’d be forced to cuddle against him underneath his sheets.
“the former,” is all replies with, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“but seriously though. how lucky are we to never have fought even after seven months.”
tsukki sighs again, before reluctantly revealing, “we don’t fight because i make it a point to always agree with you.”
you’re taken aback by his words, sitting up slightly as you look him in the eyes, though his are still closed as he tries to focus on sleeping.
“...huh?”
“idiot,” he teases. maybe he thinks calling you names will cover up for how unbelievably sweet he’s being right now, “why would i want to argue with you?” he shifts, trying to subtly move his face away so you don’t see him fully.
“but i can’t always have my way, you know. a relationship should be 50/50, right?”
“not ours.” he presses your head back against his chest, and you hear his heartbeat fasten a little. “you’re the boss.”
BONUS: “and you’ve never paid in your life anyway. you don’t believe in that 50/50 bullshit.” “hey!” “i don’t even know what your wallet looks like.”
Boyfriend! Kenma who genuinely set aside a whole week just to spend time with you before you left for America.
Boyfriend! Kenma who nearly got on his knees and begged you to stay when you finally got to the airport. The only reason he didn't was because he knew how much you wanted to go to college there, and because a million eyes watching him embaress himself in public would haunt him in every nightmare for the rest of eternity.
Boyfriend! Kenma who made you pinky promise to call him everyday before you left.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who had somehow underestimated how much he would miss you, who didn't know what to do without you.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who actually did get on his knees and beg, at somepoint during the first month of being apart, for you to turn your camera on during facetimes--despite your protests of looking bad.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma whose attendance to his own college went down without him looking forward to seeing you there, he would much rather stay on call with you as you slept though, paying attention to each little breath.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma whose diet had devolved back into some sad form of instant noodles and takeout.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who had stolen a hoodie of yours before you left, taking it everywhere for "emotional support".
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who had kept a bottle of your perfume or deoderant too, spraying it on his wrists and pillow whenever he missed you a little more than usual.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who avidly looked through airline sites to see which flight would be cheapest and if there were ever discounts, who was already saving up.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who genuinely stalked your socials and was the first to like any post you made. Always making sure to respond with something sweet.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who was indefinitely jealous of your guy friends, simply because they got to be near you and he couldn't.
Long distance boyfriend! Kenma who had already started looking into ring designs.
Boyfriend! Kenma who tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to you when your voice rang through his apartment with a simple 'I'm home".
NOTE. for the resident tsukishima lover @marisolls !
“You sure you’re not drunk?”
Is like asking Tsukishima if the sky is blue.
“Tipsy.”
“Tipsy,” you repeat, snorting. “If you say so.”
“I am,” he tells you again. He doesn’t remember how many times he’s said it—
Because it’s true. He was tipsy. Not an incapable drunk. He knew his limits, and he was well aware that he’s always been lightweight, so it’s only responsible for him to just be a little drunk.
He feels your hand on his forehead, then on his cheek, probably to check his temperature. Maybe to check if he was actually still conscious and breathing. Tsukishima likes it, so he leans into your touch, murmuring something under his breath that even he did not understand.
“Hm?”
“I’m home.”
“You are,” you nod. “Did you have fun?”
He nods as well. “Been a while.”
In the in-betweens of his consciousness, Tsukishima vaguely remembers you taking off his shoes, and now you’re helping him with his tie. The one that miraculously hasn’t been made into a headband—or worse, strangled him throughout his night escapade with old friends.
He reaches up, hands fumbling with yours in an attempt to help. He wants to help.
He wants to make life easier for you with his help.
“Kei,” you scold him. “Let me do it, please?”
And—
And it’s not fair. So he says that, too.
“It’s not fair,” he huffs, relenting.
“What’s not fair?”
“That you’re taking care of me.”
He hears you laugh, and he slumps back against the couch, huffing again.
“It’s not funny,” he murmurs. “I’m serious here.”
“Well, what do you want me to do? Leave you in the izakaya while I’m peacefully sleeping without my husband beside me?”
The thought isn’t too unpleasant for Tsukishima. He’d rather have you here—at home, well-rested—instead of waiting for him
“...Maybe.”
You sigh, though there’s no particular annoyance in your next words, Tsukishima hopes.
“That’s stupid.”
And now that he’s thinking about it, yeah. Maybe that was stupid.
What kind of wife wouldn’t worry for her husband’s well-being while he was out? You’re definitely not that kind.
His glasses slide slightly down his nose, and you’re quick to fix them without asking. He feels your fingers brush his cheek once again in the process.
Tsukishima paused.
“…Hey,” he says.
“Yes?”
“You’re touching my face.”
You hum. “I am.”
He swallows. “Okay.”
You stood straighter and turned to the kitchen, probably for water—you always think ahead like that—and Tsukishima’s eyes followed you automatically. He reaches out without thinking and lightly catches the sleeve of your cardigan.
“…stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you say easily.
His grip tightens just a little. “Promise?”
He knows how he probably looks right now. His cheeks are faintly flushed and his eyes are heavy-lidded but longing. Because it’s you—and Tsukishima is ok with looking like this because it’s only for you.
“I promise.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, relieved, and lets go. “I just wanted to check.”
When you returned, you sat beside him and held the glass to his lips. “Drink.”
He obeys, because apparently drunk him is very cooperative. When he’s done, he sighs and leans sideways, his shoulder bumping into yours. He doesn’t move away—simply doesn’t want to. Instead, he adjusts until his head rests against your shoulder, then adjusts again so this time his head rests somewhat uncomfortably on your neck.
He feels you still, then relaxes, one arm coming up to steady him. “You’re very cuddly tonight,” you noted.
He made a negating sound, pressing closer to you. “That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“I’m only like this with you,” he says, like this is an important distinction that must be clarified immediately. “Everyone else is… a bother.”
You laughed. “I’m honored.”
…
“…did you know,” he starts, words careful despite the slur creeping in (he’s in a losing battle against sleep, but he remembers he still has to brush his teeth), “that I think about you a lot?”
“I would hope so. We’re married.”
“Yes, but—” He frowns, clearly struggling to articulate whatever he wanted to say.
His hand lifts, fingers flexing like he’s trying to grab the right words out of the air. “Like… little things. During the day. I’ll see something stupid—like a cat that looks judgmental—and I’ll think, you would laugh at that. Or when I’m annoyed, I think about how you make tea. You do that thing with the spoon.”
“The thing with the spoon?” You tilt your head, intrigued.
“You tap it twice,” he replies, nodding, very serious. “On the rim. Every time. Even when you don’t need to.”
“…I never noticed that.”
“I notice.”
He shifts on the couch, suddenly restless, hands fidgeting in your embrace. “I’m not good at saying things,” he continues, voice quieter now. “I know that. I think I sound stupid when I try. Or obvious. Or like I’m saying something everyone already knows.”
“Kei…”
“But I love you,” he blurts out, too fast, too—too not very tipsy of him. “Like—really love you. Not in the normal way. In the way where my chest feels weird when you’re tired, and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how. In the way where I want to come home faster just because I know you’re here.”
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing.
“And sometimes I worry,” he admits. “That I don’t say it enough. That you’ll think I don’t feel it as much as I do.”
So this is what it felt like to hold your feelings on your sleeves and hope the other person wouldn’t turn you away because you’re too much or too little.
“Kei, I know.”
He pulls back and looks at you, startled. “You do?”
You nod. “You show it in your own way. A hundred little ways.”
His eyes sting, just a little. He blinks rapidly, scoffing weakly. Since when did he have the time to have tears glossing over his eyes?
“Wow. I’m—” He laughs once, breathy and embarrassed. “I’m way more emotional than I thought.”
“It’s kind of cute,” you tell him.
He huffs. How good you are with the words is just so… so right for him.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret’s safe.”
He hides his face on your shoulder. His voice comes muffled now. “You’re really patient with me.”
“Someone has to be.”
He knows that. That someone has to be, or else he’d maybe grow old and gray alone, with the world hating him or something.
