#reinas.inretrograde

[sashimiyas]

osamu to me is a casual manhandler. often likes to throw his arm around your shoulder and if ever someone calls his name, you’re swinging around with him.

he taps your hip if you’re in his way and if you take a second too long to react, he’s bumping you to the side. he’ll scrape off eye boogers (and learn how to do it more gently in the future) and situate you on the couch if he can’t get comfortable.

like you’re just an extension of his body. what’s yours is his and vice versa.

#reinas.inretrograde

[sashimiyas]

hajime’s not smooth in the beginning stages of relationships, heart leadened with affection it makes him clumsy. but when he’s settled? when he finally finds his bearings?

oooooof.

you two could be on separate sides of a room full a people. he leans against a wall to take a breather from socializing. when your eye catches his, even through the din of the party, you hear him clearly.

come here, he mouths to you. the words are overly enunciated as his green eyes lock on yours in a captivating manner that forces your body to obey.

his stature straightens when you reach him, a hint of a smirk on his lips. a small cockiness he only lets you see because yes, he’s always been capable, but to everyone else, he holds it humbly.

you know that not to be true. there’s confidence in everything he pursues, including you.

he says something again, but it’s all too soft in the commotion.

“what?” you ask, leaning closer.

it’s a ploy, you realize. hajime pulls you into a kiss. rough and dizzying. he tilts his head slightly to pull you deeper and your hands grip at his shirt for some sort of anchor in this wave of lust his thrown you into.

he looks all too satisfied when you separate.

“you could have just asked.”

shaking his head, he disagrees while placing your palm to his chest, “can’t. you make me too nervous.”

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.writeshaikyuu!!

[sashimiyas]

you’re ready to nag osamu the moment he walks through the door because he accidentally got “caught up” at onigiri miya again, spending an extra hour or two working. and you’re three words in but then all osamu does is smirk at you and goes, “yeah, yeah.” grabs your chin to pull you closer to his lips and says, “gimme a kiss first.”

#reinas.inretrograde #fist to my mouth squealing #i love him. i’m smacking him but also i love him

[sashimiyas]

iwaizumi has curated a flawless, step by step routine for perfect sleep. all hours of the day are optimized, and optimally spaced free time just in case he needs to deviate from plan thanks to oikawa’s (and maki and matsun and kageyama and anyone else he associates with) shenanigans.

anyone would say he’s fond of routines and iwaizumi does not deny them. they call it boring. he calls it consistency. the saying “consistency is key” didn’t come from nowhere. so iwaizumi shops at the same places. rarely orders a different menu item unless he’s got a free stamp to splurge. he remains loyal to the same brands, and his body yearns for bed by 9pm.

but tonight, iwaizumi yearns for more. you’re in his head and it feels so wrong to be thinking of you like this in his bed.

you should be nothing more than a friend and friends don’t do this. friends don’t stay up thinking about the way you smiled when you said hello. hell, iwaizumi doesn’t stay up at all!

but his bedsheets feel off. they’re stiff from being sun dried, the lines of thread prominent on his bare skin. then he’s reminded of the way your clothes had felt against his palm when you’d gone in for a hug and fuck! iwaizumi has to turn on his side with his eyes shut to get you out of his mind.

despite his athleticism, he cannot evade your power. iwaizumi is tossing and turning all across his mattress and before he knows it, he’s relived the hangout with you more than he can count and it’s well past midnight.

he gives up. ragged, the man grabs his phone to text you. what else is he supposed to do? continue to suffer? he can’t go on like this.

what are you doing, he asks, squinting.

you don’t need to answer. iwaizumi knows what you’re doing. tormenting him. torturing him. trapping him with this unknown desire.

and when he sees those three dots blink up from the blue light of his screen, iwaizumi knows the real answer.

you’re making him fall in love.

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.writeshaikyuu!!

[sashimiyas]

having hajime as a neighbor is so freaking dangerous. he doesn’t even realize it.

if he catches you struggling with your groceries, he’s doing that stupid jog bounce over to you and plucking every bag from your hands. and when you open your front door for him, when he rushes to take off his shoes before walking into your home, you’ll regret it if you don’t ask him to stay.

for a cup of tea. for a little while. forever.

#reinas.inretrograde #there’s only two places hajime belongs in #a gym and a house. he’s such a househusband to me

[sashimiyas]

osamu likes to take you on night drives when you first start dating. there’s a hoodie always waiting in the passenger seat, warmed by his body on the drive to you. his palm reaches for yours in your lap as he strolls lazily through your neighborhood. it’s quiet and reserved, intimacy hidden in the moonlight. when he reaches a main road, he places your hand on the gear stick. palm hot and tight over yours as he switches gears, he keeps you there, never wanting to lose contact.

#reinas.inretrograde #lowkey it’s kinda hot right? #just like the i gotta drive but that ain’t gonna stop me from loving on you kinda thing

[sashimiyas]

you didn’t mean to buy so many groceries. your favorite snack happened to be on sale. and it’s paycheck day so the novelty notebook you’d been eyeing for the past month finally was worth splurging on.

“let me hold it for ya,” osamu says when you hitch the overflowing paper bag up to press it closer to your chest with both arms.

also in the condiment aisle, right next to the fruit spreads, was actually your neighbor, osamu.

you consider, glancing to his right hand that has a single knob of ginger for some marinade he’s prepared for the night and the quickly think against it.

“i’ve got it.”

catching him at the konbini at the corner of your apartments is no surprise. you’d crossed paths many times. it’s a watering hole, an intermediary through the routines of your days what with the way the clerk greets you both by name.

it’s only this time, when osamu finds out that you’re headed home just like he, does he insist you walk together.

osamu’s no harmful neighbor. in fact, he’s one of your more favorable ones even if he does have a tendency to slam his doors and cabinets a little too loudly. he’s also knocked on your door to check in on you when you accidentally left your key in the lock. and one time, when he heard wind that you were sick, most likely from the same konbini clerk from earlier, he dropped off a flavorless soup “chock full of nutrients” according to him. if you noticed that the cabinets within his home slammed less during the days of your recovery, that could attributed to the brain fog of your sickness feeding any sort of delusions it could find.

your delusions are no picky eater, feeding off of whatever meager crumbs it can. so really, the walk home together is enough.

osamu truly is no harmful neighbor. but, you’re finding out, he is quite insistent.

“gimme that.”

osamu all but plucks the bag from your arms. he lifts it up with one hand and places the contents of his plastic bag right on top. it’s almost comical how he handles it so easily with a single grip when it took all your strength to carry the bag home.

“hey!” you’re already reaching for it back but osamu twists at the waist and uses his free hand to push you away.

“just say thank ya.”

he doesn’t stop in his step, ignoring you and keeping pace back to the apartment complex. it’s clear in his demeanor that he has no plans in giving you back your bag. so you relinquish by running back to his side and falling into step with him.

it feels too much like losing so you just mumble, “thank you.”

the man beside you doesn’t acknowledge your gratitude. he only walks forward and so do you. you’re keen on avoiding his gaze and have no intention of filling the silence, only focused on placing one foot in front of the next.

if you had looked up, you would have noticed osamu’s eyes locked on your hand, the one besides his. you’d probably have recognized that gaze, a quiet and thoughtful kind, the one he has when he watches a new customer try the food he’s made. you’d have prompted him to speak because, despite his uninhibited mouth, he leaves many things unsaid.

you would have noticed the way his hand drifted towards yours, the pinch in his eyebrow as he contemplated his actions and the hesitation in his fingers as he reached out for you, and the solid shake of his head as he threw it all out the window and winded his fingers with yours.

you jump. of course you do. but osamu’s holds you steady in his grip.

and when you look at him, his expression is just as genuine as his words.

“your hand was empty.”

and that’s all it really took.

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.writeshaikyuu!!

[sashimiyas]

you tell osamu you’re pregnant and he’s picking you up and rejoicing with you. but then all of a sudden, he has to drop you, thoughtful.

“oh shit. that means i can’t eat sushi any more.”

you tsk. “you mean i can’t eat sushi. that has nothing to do with you.”

and osamu simply cocks his head, unable to comprehend the words you speak. “what ya mean? we’re in this together. cravings and all.”

#reinas.inretrograde #cw pregnancy #i feel like even after your pregnancy. he occasionally creates one of your outlandish cravings to eat for himself. a little reminder. #a little treat for memory.

[sashimiyas]

when kuroo picks you up for a date, he can’t help but stand in awe. he struck, stricken, absolutely smitten.

he has to take in his breath and it’s a moment of change. a small pause between two separate lives, one without you and now with.

kuroo takes one step forward. his mouth drops to say, “look at you.”

because he knows you cannot fathom the way you present yourself to the world. you’ll never know, but he can’t help but wish that you could.

he takes your wrist limply. the strength in him depletes at your presence because there’s so much of you to take in.

“look at you…”

and when you walk towards the venue of your date, when your gaze casts itself elsewhere besides him, he has to hold your hand tighter and ask, “look at me?”

and he’s struck again. a glimpse of love and future in your eyes.

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.writeshaikyuu!! #get me outta here #i think look at you is one of the sexiest things someone can say

[sashimiyas]

oikawa faces breakups so tragically. you tell him quietly that you want to end things with your gaze downward. to him, it’s sickening that you’re unable to properly own up to how you feel.

he desperately tries to save face, training the wobble in his lips to maintain their rigidity and abating the string along the bridge of his nose through sheer will alone.

and he’s intentionally petty but unintentionally mean because all oikawa can do as he processes your decision is provide a snarky huff that almost sounds like a laugh. it’s simply a cover for the shock because his body feels like it’s just dived into an ice bath, breath expelling in surprise.

because holy shit. this hurts.

and because he’s oikawa, because he’s so unrepentantly honest, he says, “i hate you.”

the admission is enough for you to look at him. he sees the sorriness in your eyes. it’s enough to remain solid in his decision.

“i hate you,” not even any training can hide the broken sound of his voice, “because you made me really, really love you. what.. what am i going to do now?”

#reinas.inretrograde #he’s such a guy to say i hate you and i love you in the same sentence #reina.writeshaikyuu!!

[sashimiyas]

cw: implied physical abuse to the reader, no curses au, sukuna threatens to kill your abuser, this is darker than usual

if sukuna loved you less, he would have greeted you the moment his eyes caught your figure. instead, he hardens the line across his mouth in fear that he might say something unfavorable. though that’s more so your opinion that his. to him, it’s simply the truth.

if sukuna loved you less, he would be complaining to you about your tardiness. punctuality is something he values, something he’s made known. but without any forewarning, he’s waited an extra thirty minutes on this train platform for you to show. your sorry figure tells him everything and he accepts the apology, though he knows you’re sorry for all the wrong reasons.

if sukuna loved you less, he would have killed your father the moment he noticed five dotted bruises your neck. instead, he leadens his feet to the ground and waits for your arrival, turning his view to the opposite end of the platform, unable to stomach looking at you any further.

“hey,” is all you say when you reach his side. tired and broken, it disgusts him to see you in such a way. he has to spit onto the ground to rid the sour taste that floods his mouth. you don’t chide him like you usually would, and sukuna says nothing about his observations. it’s a give and take relationship that he’s learned to accept in order to deal with you.

you pull at his wrist and helps by throwing his arm around your shoulder to pull you in closer. an action that is usually mistaken as ownership, it brings him relief to feel your body pressed against his. you’re here, he reminds himself. even if you’re fucked up and broken, you’re still here.

because you’re late, there’s still another thirty minutes to wait for the next train so the two of you stand in silence. you flip through videos on social media that sukuna tries to pretend does not pique his interest, quickly averting his gaze whenever you casually look at him from the corner of your eye.

your discomfort isn’t missed when sukuna readjusts his arm around your shoulder. the anger that had quieted with your presence resurfaces and he cannot help himself.

“i’ll fucking kill him,” sukuna promises. he’s made the statement many times before, much to your displeasure. and he knows that despite every nerve in his body wish to wreak havoc on your father, he could never disobey your wishes.

sukuna loosens his arm around you already expecting you to push him away. yet you simply look up at him expressionless.

“okay,” you say.

“be serious, baby.” sukuna warns, “you know i’m not joking.”

“im not.”

in contrast to your deadened expression is a feral smile across his face. sukuna pulls you close to lift you up. graciously, you gift him a shy giggle when he does. he drops you down and quickly pulls you into a deep kiss.

“thanks, baby,” he says as he kisses the bruises along your neck. “gonna kill him so good for you.”

“i know you will.”

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.writesjjk

[sashimiyas]

nothing makes iwaizumi blush more than mothering him. he’s so used to watching over everyone he cares for that when you pat down the collar of his polo that’s gone askew, he’s 35 years deep into imagining a married life with you

#reinas.inretrograde #i am sooooooo obsessed with him #bc he always tries to tell you that he can do it himself #and he’ll get soooooooo sad if you believe him

[sashimiyas]

going to uci with iwaizumi, being one of the people who officially says goodbye to him on his final trip back to japan, and then seeing him on tv yearssss later fucks me up.

there’s a small crowd of you that follows iwaizumi all the way to the gate to bid him farewell. he’s in a pair of beloved joggers, nike, a gift from one of his first dorm mates and a uci hoodie.

the walk through the airport is rowdy, full of promises and inside jokes, but as you watch iwaizumi’s broad back that you’ve learned so well, (he’s always been the one leading the pack) and watch the way the wings of his shoulders peak through his shirt at every step, you can’t help but grow quiet.

time with him has always been numbered. he’d never hidden the aspirations he wanted to fulfill and you knew that one day, dropping iwaizumi off at john wayne airport meant you’d never have to pick him up again.

your friends take it far better than you. they clasp hands, they hand his oversized backpack and luggage to him, and as iwaizumi makes his round of goodbyes, he turns to you.

you’re almost pummeled by the sway of his overstuffed backpack. it makes you startle where you stand, blinking at the gust of its motion.

the man before you offers a quiet chuckle. when your eyes settle on him, words leave your mind.

there he is. backdropped in sunlight, it halos his hair and you witness a vision of his younger self. had it really only been 4 years? this one is older. in a good way. bigger and with a fresh diploma. more confident, mature, and because of his new familiarity with english, a far smoother tongue.

“don’t cry,” iwaizumi whispers with a teasing smile.

you push him. aggravatingly, he hardly budges. “i’m not.”

air blows from his mouth in quiet disagreement but he doesn’t say anything. only stares at you. you only stare back at him.

there’s so much you want to tell him and you thought you had enough time… but now? what do you say now?

“you’ll be okay?” that makes your chest pang. why is he concerned about you?

so you smile, “of course i will be!”

he nods, eyes turning to the side for a moment.

you bring him back, “will you?”

iwaizumi gives you a bittersweet smile, “not as good as you, but i’ll make do.”

what he means is hard to decipher and maybe you take too long to do so. iwaizumi inhales deeply and then presses his palm to your head.

“see you.”

you repeat it back. and just like that, you watch him go.

it takes another 8 years, but you do see him again. on tv this time, as the athletic trainer for japan’s volleyball team no less!

time has balmed your yearning but just that measly glimpse suddenly brings on a longing you’d forgotten. last you left him, he’d looked grown up, but now, he’s more. handsome even. drastically so. you clasp your hands together and pray that the camera pans to the sidelines again so you can witness his greatness.

and now that he’s here before your eyes once again, you refuse to make the same mistakes as your younger self. you’re grown too. and you pick up your phone to reach out to him.

#reinas.inretrograde #reina.writeshaikyuu!!

[sashimiyas]

hajime can never accept compliments from the person he likes because he has to shut his mouth. press his lips against his teeth. stop breathing basically. because if he opens it, if he lets a smidgen of space open up, he’s bearing his soul out to you. and obviously that can’t happen.

#reinas.inretrograde #and that’s why all his crushes thinks he hates them

[sashimiyas]

cw: reader calls themself a whore

mama miya has been yelling at osamu every time she finds out her son’s spent most of his day in the shop.

“ya keep doing that and ya gonna grow old alone.”

“yeah, yeah.” osamu would brush off. he’s got time. and the shop needs his.

but then he’s forty and he realizes that life has passed him. he’s committed to business ventures, made partnerships with companies and brands that he’s never dreamed of and shit… ma was right.

he’s old…er. and still alone. at one point, it didn’t bother him. now, osamu recognizes loneliness in its partnership. it’s vacant, an ominous breeze that tickles at his neck.

and then there’s you, cheeky with a cherry between your lips. you seat yourself across the line stranger who seems weary but also put together in ways that you could never be.

the old fashioned in your hand has you feeling bold, old…er than your long abandoned favorite, the margarita.

when you sit in the leather seat, air puffs at the backs of your knees.

swirling your drink with its black, thin straw, you tilt your head while popping the cherry from your mouth by the stem, “the party’s over there.”

his gaze lingers to the dance floor. bodies mingle with each other he cannot discern one from the other. they don a fashion he cannot comprehend, pants too large and patterns louder than the music itself. bright beneath the laser lights, osamu feels like he’d cast a shadow should he join.

“i haven’t partied since…” oh god, has it really been a decade? when he glances back at you again, lips puckered against the artificial red of the garnish, pretty and young and just as sweet, he suddenly feels embarrassed.

the feeling is unknown, as if he’s never felt it before. which is odd since osamu’s failed many times before. even second hand embarrassment is common with atsumu around.

he’s collected this confidence in the years that has easily been trampled by yours.

“… in a fucking long time.”

you finally suck the cherry between your teeth and follow it with a quick gulp of your drink.

“i partied last night.”

that’s funny, osamu thinks. he’s sure you don’t mean it that way, but it makes him laugh.

“wouldn’t expect nothing less.”

“why? because i look like a whore?”

he’s quick to tsk at your verbiage and by your blooming smirk, it’s the response you wanted. “because ya look like ya know how to have a good time.”

“hmm…” you play with your straw, gaze away from his. “yeah? so do you.”

you quickly glance back to the dance floor then him once more.

“tell me about yourself.”

where does he begin? being a twin? volleyball? miya onigiri? maybe ma was right. he’s gone and grown older alone, but he’s done a lot of shit. he’s a storied man. if someone as pretty as you had gone up to him when he was younger and stupid, he’d have fucked this up. but he’s older now, with stories to tell.

and you’re here in the leather seat across from him, intent to listen.

#reinas.inretrograde #there was supposed to be a scene where the reader bites their nails and osamu nags them #‘get that shit outta your mouth. i’ve got better stuff for you to put in it.’ and you think it’s sexual. it’s not bc he just wants to feed #you. its not until it is #reina.writeshaikyuu!! #this is so niche and particular. no one’s gonna like this and that’s okay lol

[sashimiyas]

osamu has a soft spot for single mothers because they remind him of his own

#reinas.inretrograde #he’ll never say anything but when you go through your wallet and only order what your child requested and not your meal #he just hands you enough for the whole week. tells you to come back soon but never admits to the kindness #he incorporates children eat free days #there’s this whole romantic scene in my head where you say ‘i don’t need you’ #and he goes ‘i know.’ and it’s not placating at all. he knows you don’t need him. #knows and understands that you’ve done more in your life than he’ll ever achieve #then he says ‘but i want you. i want to need you. and if you say the word and let me. i’ll do it. i’ll need to wake up to you in the morning #need you to tell me to have a good day and whoop my ass into shape. and i know you won’t need me. but you can want me to.’