#II. –⚜ jasswrites. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

classyinnie · 2 years

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Kenma understands what it's like to be talked over and interrupted. Especially in a large group, he knows what it's like to be ignored because people can't hear him or think his opinion is irrelevant. It had never bothered him because it would take more of his energy to keep talking anyway. But when it comes to you, he finds it unacceptable.

Kenma was half-listening to you talking about a recent experience, but he didn’t fail to notice how you stopped midway and gradually lower the volume of your voice. Someone in the group changed the subject while you were still speaking. When he realizes you've been purposefully ignored, he can't help but abandon the game he's almost finished with and devote his full attention to you.

One glance at your glum expression, had him putting down his phone, turning to face you, and in a gentle voice coaxes you to, “Continue. What were you saying?”

Just seeing your face light up made him completely invested in your story. He honestly wouldn't mind ignoring the group conversation for you – never wanting to participate in it in the first place – as he finds what you’re saying more interesting. Eventually, Kenma would excuse you both to pull you in a quiet place so he could listen to you “better”. Your voice is his favorite thing, and making sure you feel heard has always been his number one priority.

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classyinnie · 1 year

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“Did you ever plan on getting a relationship?” The interviewer asked.

"No, I was too preoccupied with volleyball to care."

“What made you change your mind?”

Beyond the reporters, mics, and cameras, his gaze finds yours in the crowd. "The mere possibility that someone out there was worth the wait."

The interviewer noticed the softness in his eyes and tried to follow his line of sight, but he had already directed his gaze back to them before they could turn around.

“Well, were they worth the wait?”

He smiles. “Always.”

—ATSUMU, Kageyama, OIKAWA, HINATA, Sakusa, Ushijima, Suna, Bokuto

#II. –⚜ jasswrites.#pro league players brainrot #haikyu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu headcanons #haikyu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyu hcs #hq imagines #hq x reader #atsumu headcanons #kageyama imagines #kageyama headcanons #oikawa headcanons #hinata headcanons #sakusa hcs #ushijima hcs #suna headcanons #bokuto headcanons

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classyinnie · 2 years

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Mature men when it comes to arguments. Who always sets aside their thoughts to hear you out first. Who would calmly ask, “Alright, what’s the source of the matter here?” Not to belittle you, but to ensure he understands your point of view. Men who make sure your point is well-taken before voicing their own – who listen not to reply but with the intention of truly understanding.

—AKAASHI, Kita, Ushijima, Shirabu, Kuroo, DAICHI, Osamu, Sugawara, Iwazumi, SAKUSA

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classyinnie · 10 months

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He hates you.

He hates the way you wear your emotions on your sleeves. It’s excruciatingly endearing to find your gentleness in a world that does nothing but provide you with worries. He hates how, despite your doubts and trepidations, you still look at it with such wonder one couldn’t even fathom or place.

He'd always wondered how such a pure soul—beaten and calloused—can look at the endless possibilities before them and believe they’re worth it.

He considered he might be a coward then, for don’t we all have fears that stop us from stepping beyond the line that confines our capabilities?

He hates your gentleness. How you look at people like they hold the world in their hands. How you listen intently to everything they have to say. How you would offer a hand even if your arms are already full.

He hates the way you wear kindness. How it’s perfectly knitted to your skin, it’s almost second nature. He hates how you would go out of your way to put others before yourself.

"Selfless", he would call you.

"Pushover", he would label you.

But insults were a mere façade to the raging questions in his head as to how. How do you have so much to give?

But most of all, he hates himself for not hating you. Not even a fraction.

You are like a printed polaroid; he wants to vigorously shake to reveal the entire picture.

A pipe dream, that’s what you are. But that doesn't erase the fact that he once stooped so low to even—in his unabashed desperation—consider asking himself if he is worthy enough to experience what it's like to be cared for by you.

—Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, KYOTANI, Osamu, KAGEYAMA, Kenma, Sakusa, Suna

#II. –⚜ jasswrites.#silent lovers pt.2 #inspired by 10 things i hate about you #i love these boys so much #let’s ignore the fact that tsuki is in every hc <3 #haikyu imagines #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu headcanons #Tsukishima Headcanons #tsukishima x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #kyotani x reader #osamu x reader #kageyama x reader #kenma headcanon #sakusa hc #suna headcanons

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classyinnie · 1 year

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Love for him isn’t a concept of ‘want’ but rather a “Tell me the problem and we’ll face it together.”

Growing up in a household where affirmations are scarce and fending for oneself equates to success, he made sure that ‘love’ within the 4 walls of your home is built on deliberate care. Where vulnerability is valued and growth is acknowledged. He takes pride in you leaning on him and seeking his guidance, but at the same time, he would cheer for your accomplishments to the ends of the earth, treating each one as his own.

He pursues the kind of love that does not rely on false assurances of safety, but rather on the promise of facing the dangers together. Of growing despite the hurdles.

The kind of love that heals and liberates. He may be lacking in the right words, but he’ll never fail to express his willingness to stay and share the burden.

—Oikawa, IWAIZUMI, Sakusa, Tsukishima, Ushijima, Atsumu, Kageyama, Kita, Osamu

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classyinnie · 1 year

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He is engulfed with a sense of awareness whenever he sees you. It's not butterflies in his stomach or the sensation of his heart beating out of his chest, but a longing.

He can't seem to take his eyes off of you as he picks up on your mannerisms instinctively. How you smile, the little nods you make when you converse with people, and the animated movement of your hands when you retell a story to your friends.

And every time he forces himself to look away, he finds his ears picking up on these minor details instead; Your hums of approval as someone adds to your little story or the way you would slam your hands on the table just before you break into laughter.

Your excitement can be heard a mile away, piqueing the interest of those in your vicinity. Even more so, his.

You meander recollections of events and conversations throughout your day that should be nothing but boring. But somehow, when mixed with your opinions and colored by your thoughts becomes interesting. He can’t help but think he could always distinguish your voice over the din of the crowd.

But despite all this, he never summons the courage to approach you, preferring to just be drawn into your orbit. Silently appreciating. Silently loving.

—Akaashi, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, KENMA, Asahi, Sakusa, Tsukishima

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classyinnie · 1 year

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Patch Me Up. featuring Keisuke Baji

彡 SYNOPSIS: Bandages and lingering confessions. Perhaps it's the worry in your eyes or the gentleness in your touch that always draws him back to you.

Notes: Surprise, surprise!! Going through a tokyo rev hyper fixation woop woop!!

Baji believes that his selfish tendencies are the cause of him knocking at your door in the dead of night. While everyone seems busy navigating the nearby hospitals or rushing home, he finds himself yearning for your touch instead.

He longs for your kind caresses and patient eyes. Emotions he can’t seem to place. The calm after the storm.

You don’t greet him as you open the door–already moving aside to allow him enough space to slip through the threshold–an indication of becoming accustomed to these nightly endeavors.

Baji strolls through your kitchen and sighs as he slumps on a stool, his head throbbing from the sudden drop in adrenaline. He winces as his shirt brushes up against the scratches and bruises on his side.

"Who was it this time?" You ask.

He squints at you, offended by your unprovoked accusation. A playful grin on his lips. "You've got to have a little more faith in me, sweetheart. It wasn't me who threw the first punch. They were the ones provoking."

"Say that to me when you don't look as if you're about to collapse. Take your shirt off."

He whistles at the bold remark but doesn’t argue. All he can think about is getting a good night’s rest. He winces as he pulls the shirt up his figure, careful not to let the fabric graze some of the open wounds.

He didn't say that the real reason for the fight was someone's disparaging comment about you. Insults were nothing new to him. But, the mere mention of your name and the nasty remark that followed forced Baji to strike. Their pleas tuned out by the anger ringing in his ears.

He wouldn't say the only reason for not beating them unconscious was the satisfaction of imagining their figure beg for your forgiveness.

Simply recalling the incidents is enough to ignite the anger, so Baji chose to settle instead on watching your mechanical movements. There’s something in the way you navigate under the dim kitchen light that evokes a sense of familiarity. Allowing the stillness to calm his head.

As you open drawers, he is now only aware of a slight tremble in your hands. Your supposed "profound" confidence about where supplies are is replaced with uncertainty. Doubt dabbled at his conscience at the extra tightness in your face and the way your shoulders is way more tensed than usual.

Guilt made him sick to his stomach. Maybe this wasn’t a good time. Maybe he shouldn't have bothered you.

Baji tries to erase his dubiety as you turn to face him. If you didn’t want him here, you’d have kicked him out moments ago. Or better, you would’ve never opened the doors for him. He was sure of that.

"Are you mad at me, sweetheart?" he asks, grinning at your silhouette.

You tuck yourself neatly between his extended legs, maintaining the same expression aside from the sudden sharpness in your eyes as you consider which wound to treat first.

“Hey, stop igno–”

The clean cloth against his wounds is abrasive. Baji attempted to stop from yelping. Although a little leniency would have been greatly appreciated, what did he expect?

“Taking it easy would be nice.” He gritted his teeth through the fresh, piercing pain as you press a tepid cloth to a scrape–an obvious result of skidding on the tarmac–on his side.

You don’t seem to relent and he regrets riling you up even more.

“Be quiet.”

It’s difficult when you’re practically jabbing at his injuries. He concentrates on counting breaths, trusting you to know what you're doing, as you’ve proven many times before.

Minutes pass, and Baji is certain he will pass out soon. He's sweating profusely, although you've progressed to a much gentler process of applying cream to his cleaned cuts.

“You worry me you know.” He startles at your voice.

“You worry me so much. Every night, I think about the possibilities of you passing out in the streets all beat up. I worry if you’re hurt, or if you’re stupid enough to start fights you can’t handle.” You laugh, but it comes out all wrong. "And as much as I hate to see you in pain, I tell myself that it's better to know you're here. That I can see you. Not passed out somewhere. Here. Unscathed. I hate myself for finding reassurance in that. I hate myself for not knowing how to be angry with you." There’s a slight tremble in your voice now.

The open honesty with which you spoke. The intensity of it distracts Baji from the years of repressed confessions that twisted into the only two words he can bear to utter. "I’m sorry."

He leans his head against your shoulder, scared to admit more. It wasn’t a question of why. He’s always known why he’s drawn to your kindness.

Captivated he might, it’s something that can’t be helped. You’re the dawning of a future where he allows himself to be worthy of such light in a bleak world.

Rather, he’s scared of the hows.

How can he tell you without scaring you away? He fears of feeling too much. Of burdening you with ‘something’ he himself can’t even explain.

He absentmindedly presses his lips against the delicate skin of your shoulders. Mindful of any slight changes in your figure and prepared to withdraw if necessary. When he senses you relax, however, something in his chest aches more than the already forming bruises on his side.

Your head slightly leans on his. Almost cradling his head.

“It’s alright. Just...” You pull back, staring at him with so much resolution. “Refrain from doing anything stupid.”

Baji nods, preparing himself to pull away. He was foolish enough to believe that he has a chance beyond this.

But you don't let him, already threading your hands through his hair. "And stop trying to hold yourself together; Either way, I'll be there to patch you up along the way," You add.

Maybe he's not as selfish as he thought because that could only mean one thing: Stay.

And who was he to deny that? After all, you're the only fight he'll never be able to win.

#II. –⚜ jasswrites.#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo rev fluff #baji fluff #baji headcanons #keisukebaji #baji x you #baji x reader #baji imagines #tokyo revengers baji #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke imagines #tr baji #tokyo rev headcanons

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classyinnie · 1 year

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After a long day of shouting orders and briefing the first years, Oikawa finally succumbed to the fatigue eating his body and the pounding in his head since the late afternoon.

After all, being captain wasn't easy. He's still getting used to supervising the group and stepping forward when necessary. Although, nothing beats the satisfaction of seeing his teammates improve and be within their element. To look them in the eyes and see the reflection of trust in them.

None of it, however, compares to the same trust reflected in your eyes as he lays himself on your chest. He hums as you run your fingers through his hair and kiss his brow, whispering, "Rest well, darling. You deserve it."

Despite the stress of the upcoming seasons and the raging doubts in his mind, he finds solace in your presence and in your gentle hands as they trace the exhaustion away.

I’ll do it all again, Oikawa says to himself. Knowing that at the end of the day, he’s in the reprieve of your always-awaiting arms.

#II. –⚜ jasswrites.#soft for 3rd year captain oikawa #haikyu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyu imagines #haikyu headcanons #hq imagines #hq fluff #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa imagine #oikawa x you #oikawa fluff #hq oikawa #oikawa scenarios #oikawa x y/n

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classyinnie · 2 years

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Domestic lovers. Who can turn mundane chores into acts of love and care. Who would undoubtedly drop everything to sit down and do taxes with you. It makes no difference to them how tedious the chores are, whether it's doing the laundry or having a deep clean of the house. No matter how exhausting, they’ll always find a way to show that they will actively participate in your daily tasks. These things are considered to be meaningless to some people. But to them, it makes their heart feel utmost content.

Domestic lovers who would go, “There’s nothing so mundane about it if I get to do it with you.” Who would teach you how to enjoy and value your menial tasks because nothing’s better than having someone to navigate through the labeled “dull” parts of life.

—TANAKA, Osamu, Nishinoya, Sugawara, YAMAGUCHI <3, Hinata, KITA, Akaashi, Akiteru, Sakusa, Kenma

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classyinnie · 1 year

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Sundays are for spontaneous getaways, stolen kisses, and…Suna Rintaro.

It’s the only day of the week when Suna takes you both to nowhere and plans absolutely nothing. Except for the prospect of getting away from one’s responsibilities and the anticipation of potential hand-holding and endless kisses. And, of course, unsolicited company.

Feet placed on the dashboard, you bop your head to ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’ by The Foundations.

Why do you build me up? Buttercup, baby Just to let me down? And mess me around

Beside you, on the wheel, Suna hums along. Sunglasses perched on his head as the wind musses his already ruffled hair, courtesy of the open windows.

“Put your feet down will ya?” He glances your way.

As much as it annoys him, he indulges himself in the carefree glint of your eyes and the teasing smile on your lips. Something about your carefree demeanor as you ignore his complaints prompts him to kiss your left cheek chastely—the only place he can, unfortunately, reach.

“Eyes on the road, Rintaro.” You say, already used to his antics. Your cheeks, however, are not as you feel the heat radiating from them to your ears.

“Only if you give me a proper kiss.”

He laughs as you turn to him incredulously, faking disgust on your face. “You’re crazy.”

Suna’s quick to respond, “Just for you.”

When you take to completely ignoring him, he pokes at your side. “The offer still stands though.”

“Right.” You reach over and crank the radio volume up. “In your dreams.”

You may or may not have taken that offer. Once or twice, losing count after the seventh time.

#II. –⚜ jasswrites.#haikyu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyu imagines #haikyu headcanons #hq fluff #hq imagines #suna headcanons #suna x reader #suna rintaro drabbles #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro headcanons #suna headcannons #suna rintarō #suna rintaro scenarios

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classyinnie · 2 years

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letters read in the morning

content: waking up to find them not beside you, save for a good morning text message sent with love — fluff.

ღ ft. atsumu, osamu, sakusa, daichi, oikawa

— Atsumu: Have I ever told you how beautiful you look when you sleep? Or do anything in that regard? You are gorgeous!! And I appreciate you so much. Please know that every little thing you’ve done for me has never gone unnoticed. Thank you for making me feel safe and cared for. You make me so happy, ily.

— Osamu: Hey! I'm not particularly good with words, but I want you to know that I’m well entangled with you. Body, soul, and mind. You’re so special. I know I have a lot of days to remind you of that, but I'm not sure if they’re enough to express how grateful I am to have you in my life.

I’m typing this while standing in line for groceries. I made you breakfast, and coffee is brewing downstairs. I'll be back soon...I love you.

— Sakusa: Morning. I woke up to your sun-stricken face and want to hold you accountable for being the prettiest person alive. I’m out running errands right now, don’t miss me too much. Love you.

— Daichi: Good Morning dear! I know you get grumpy when I’m not beside you when you wake up. I’m sorry, but they required my presence at the station. I’ll be sure to be back before lunch and grab your favorites! The 9-pieces nuggets meal from McDonald's was it? I promise I won’t forget the barbecue sauce this time. I miss you already.

Text me when you wake up...Love you lots.

— Oikawa: I hope you're pleased with the anguish you've brought me. I can’t stop thinking about you. The audacity you have to run in my mind all day!! When I said I wanted to spend every day with you, I didn’t mean it like this. I'd even skip practice just to feel your warmth beside me. What have you done to me?

I apologize for the outburst. Good morning, sweetheart. I hope you have a wonderful day <33

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classyinnie · 2 years

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𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬; 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

content: Keiji Akaashi x reader — how Akaashi would comfort a mentally drained, overthinking reader | hurt/comfort, established relationship | 1.0k words

warnings: mentions of burnout and stress

notes: Write comfort fics for when you need comfort >>>

[7:37 p.m.]

At the peak of hopelessness, you hunched over your work area. Opened in front of you were files of unfinished artworks. However, despite the flashes of color and potential references, you couldn’t think of something to create.

The submission for your client was tomorrow night. You've been working on this project for a week and still haven't produced a favorable outcome. You have several drafts, but none of them are adequate or even close to workable.

You wished to pause time for a moment to catch your breath. Close all browser windows and relax in the comforting presence of your husband – who is situated behind you on the bed, busy with work. He’s sporting an old sweater and has his working glasses on, making him look cozier than he already is. You desired - no, required - a break, but you cannot afford to waste time.

So, grudgingly, you pull yourself together and scroll through the number of unpolished drafts. Hoping and praying that a sliver of creativity will enter your burnt-out mind.

[9:50 p.m.]

Akaashi brings you a sandwich, sliced apples, and a cup of hot tea. You looked at the clock and were surprised to see that it had already been 2 hours. A sense of dread rose in your chest.

Akaashi kisses your brow while leaning in to inspect your work. "That looks incredible, hon." He says while lightly stroking your hair. You close your eyes and relish in the feeling, desperate to succumb to the grip of sleep. "Please don't overwork yourself, okay?"

You have to force yourself to nod. “Okay. You too.”

Akaashi hums before returning to his editorial proposals. Looking back at your work, you couldn't see what he meant by "incredible". All you could point out were flaws and squandered opportunities. Every line and color on the screen screams mediocre.

At this point, you were beyond worried about what your client would think. They trusted you, and in return, you are giving them a piece of rubbish.

You are running out of time.

You rub your eyes, willing the exhaustion to leave. In desperation, you try to arrange the elements on the screen, seeking to fix the compositions.

The color scheme is revolting. There's almost nothing to look at.

Aware of the worst possible outcomes, the weariness of looking at the same things over and over again and not coming up with anything new seemed to weigh heavier than it did. Before you knew it, you were spiraling through the surging panic of endless possibilities of failure.

[10:00 p.m.]

“Akaashi.” You say his name like a plea. As if chanting it would push back the thoughts that were threatening to cave in.

“Yes, love?” He calls out. You remain frozen in the spot. Unable to squeeze out a reply. The bed shifts and Akaashi find himself kneeling beside you. Slowly, he angles your chair so he can see your face better. He holds your cheeks, surprised to feel their coldness, and asks, "What's wrong?"

"I can't do anything right," You say.

He scans your eyes. "That’s not true, you know that. What caused these thoughts, hm?"

You leaned forward to his touch, resting your forehead on his shoulders. Exhausting. It was all so exhausting. So silent yet so loud.

He takes your hand in his and squeezes it, attempting to bring blood and warmth back to your pale skin. “Can you feel this?” He presses his thumb against your palm, gently but firmly enough to draw your attention away from the overwhelming feeling in your chest.

You nod, drawing yourself inexorably closer to him. Akaashi carefully pulls you up and guides you to sit at the side of the bed.

“Fight it off love. It’s not true. I’m right here, I won’t leave.” He says repeatedly as he tucks your head under his chin. His one hand constantly presses down on your cold hands, while the other gently strokes your hair.

You feel the first stream of tears roll down your cheeks.

Akaashi hums a familiar worship tune near your ear. You allow the warm sensation of familiarity to embrace you. Allow his heartbeat to guide your breathing, and his presence to ground you in a state of calm.

"Lend me your sorrows, and I'll face each one of them with you," He says.

So you did. You voiced out each fear slipping through the surface.

…Your fear of settling for less because you are unable to produce something better.

…Your fear of not being able to produce anything good, coherent, or worthy of the request.

…Your fear of not meeting the standard.

Akaashi listened throughout it all. Intently, so.

Speaking your concerns aloud was enough to alleviate some of your unease. It was able to make you realize that some of the doubts were only the result of your overthinking.

When the last of your worries were recited, Akaashi didn’t waste time pulling you from his chest to look you in the eye. He kisses a stray tear away. "Success is not measured by how productive you are or how much you put yourself in," He says softly. A gentle caress. “It is not measured by how much you can do until your body is forced to break down because it can no longer function."

Brushing the strands of hair off of your face, he continues. “You’re just burnt out at the moment. So please, take a break, okay?”

You adamantly shake your head. You can’t waste time. “I can’t. I need to finish it all.”

Akashi's eyes soften, a look of patience on his face. “It’s not a matter of you can’t, love. You must. I’ll help you brainstorm ideas after you’ve had at least a little rest. You need it.”

Upon seeing that you have no choice. He is right after all. You give in, nodding. “Okay.”

Akaashi pulls you to the center of the bed and positions you comfortably in front of him. He holds you until he notices your even breathing, indicating you've fallen asleep.

In the stillness, he whispers, "I’ll fight off every thought that’s too loud for even you to silence." A promise marked on this day and for the future beyond.

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classyinnie · 11 months

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Crocheting w/ Kageyama Tobio.

“This is hopeless.”

Kageyama huffs beside you, struggling to get the crochet hook inside the last stitch.

"We've been at this for an hour. Don’t make the tension of your yarn too tight."

"That's exactly what I've been doing." He eventually gives up, tossing the unfinished beanie in his lap.

You cast a glance at him and snort at the already-forming pout on his lips. His furrowed brows are almost comical.

“Here. Give it to me." You reach for his work and examine the progress he's done. It wasn't bad considering you only started teaching him yesterday. In fact, it was better than your initial progress as a beginner.

“You’ve got the idea of it though, which is good. Just…”

You move closer to him and grab his tucked hands. Suddenly distracted, you trace the bumps and scratches on his smooth skin, admiring how they contrast with the callouses that are forming on his fingertips as a result of years of volleyball practice.

Kageyama has lovely hands. His dedication to the sport never ceases to amaze you. Especially, when you sometimes find him filing and prepping his fingers before a game.

You make him hold the yarn while adjusting its tightness. You demonstrate how to relax his fingers by looping a strand of yarn around his forefinger and guiding him through a few double crochets. Eventually, you let him do it on his own. Often glancing to see if he needs any help.

Kageyama would begrudgingly deny the enjoyment one gets from such a tedious and mind-numbing task at first, but over time, he finds himself relaxing deeper on the couch and even occasionally glancing at the show on the TV.

When he's finished, he'll hand to you his work, a proud expression on his face as he watches you weave in the ends and put the beanie he helped make on his head.

"See, it wasn't so difficult now, was it?"

He fusses over this new achievement, even nodding to himself. "Only when you help."

You try to hide your laugh at the child-like adoration in his eyes.

And now, unbeknownst to him, it has become Kageyama’s favorite afternoon activity with you. He would waddle to the couch in the middle of the afternoon with a hook and yarn from your collection in hand, joining you in your crocheting.

Not only is it therapeutic, but it also gives him a sense of fulfillment to know that he has a part in your favorite little hobby.

Note: Helloo! It’s been a while :< It’s finally our summer break which means more time to write and go through my drafts woop woop!

#II. –⚜ jasswrites.#this may or may not be just an excuse to gush over #kag's canonically well-kept setter hands #I just know he has calloused but pretty fingers #haikyu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu headcanons #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama imagines #kageyama imagine #kageyama headcanons #tobio x reader #kageyama drabble

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classyinnie · 2 years

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𝐎𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

content: Bokuto Kotaro x reader — fluff, (best) friends to lovers | 0.8k words

warnings: none.

notes: Excuse the low quality writing TT. Akaashi the real mvp in this one.

It was nearly impossible for Bokuto to realize he was in love with you. The idea too far-fetched as the ocean drying up or the implication of traveling back in time. Hardly anything could open his eyes to the fact that he was over the moon in love with you. It would have been a little better if it was one-sided, but the dilemma of the situation doubled when you were the exact same – Oblivious.

People around you would always comment on how you two were almost like a married couple, but the mere notion just confuses you because you’ve always labeled your relationship as close friends. Friends who live in each other's homes. Friends who held each other to sleep at night because they hate the thought of sleeping alone. Yeah…friends.

You would have ignored all of their comments if it hadn't been for what Akaashi once said, which was meant well but still managed to keep you pondering at night: "The man adores you. Anyone can tell just by the way he looks at you."

From then on, you can't help but notice the soft touches, sweet forehead kisses, and frequent visits, and give them meaning. Because you now understand what they mean when they say that friends don't behave the same way you do.

But that wasn't the wake-up call; what made you realize you love him was entering the kitchen one morning to find him cooking breakfast. It wasn’t supposed to surprise you or anything because he does it all the time. But something about this day, with the perfect view of him illuminated by the sunrise–almost glowing in the morning rays–made you realize that he does fit perfectly in your kitchen. Or more so, in your life. You can't imagine waking up one day without him by your side. Without his cheeky smile and "good mornings”.

You approached him without much thought, burying yourself at the back of his shirt, clearly startling the focused man. You can't help but hug him tighter; Afraid that if you let go, the pleasant reality you've been encased in will vanish.

“Good morning to you too, beautiful.” Bokuto chuckles.

The endearment should not have made your heart rate pick up as much, knowing it was nothing more than his usual endearments. And for the first time, it hurt you. Surely, it would have taken him nothing to spit it out, but it means everything to you now.

“You alright?” Your silence must have given him the impression that something was wrong.

You nod.

“You sure?“

“Of course, why would I not be alright?”

This time he doesn’t push further. “If you say so. Can you hand me some plates, please?”

You were running out of options as to coming clean. You're not sure why, but that disappointed you. Enough to blurt out the words. “I love you.”

I’m not alright because I finally realized I’ve fallen for you! You wanted to shout.

Bokuto, with no hesitation, immediately replied, “I love you too.”

How do you persuade him that this isn't a figment of your supposed ‘platonic relationship’?

“No, Bokuto. Like I’m in love with you.”

He turns to you with a puzzled expression on his face, and says, "I know."

Bokuto has your face cradled in his hands before you can ask him what he means. The other wrapped around your waist. Taking you by surprise.

It was now your turn to be baffled. Hoping he's not playing with you. Knowing how this will turn out will either result in one of you fleeing or brushing it off as just what friends do. The former much more preferable.

"Me too," he whispers, leaning in close enough to make your knees weak. “I want you to be a permanent part of my life.”

That seemed to ground you because it appears improbable. The idea, just a few minutes ago, was nearing impossible. “What?” You take a step back. "When did you realize?"

“This morning, I had you wrapped in my arms and felt like I was sinking in this overwhelming feeling. I'm fairly certain it's love. There's no better way to put it." Bokuto says.

A slow smile spreads across your face. He continues, "... And I took a test yesterday to see if I was in love with my best friend. And all the results stated yes.”

Now you were in disbelief. Smacking Bokuto’s arm in exasperation, “You realized you loved me because of a test?”

Bokuto comically clutches his arm. Betrayal written all over his face. “Ow! Partly yes, but it’s all thanks to Akaashi. I told him about this song I discovered that reminded me of you. In return, he sent me those tests calling me an idiot.”

"Remind me to thank him then," you hum, drawing him back to you, apologizing for his “bruised” arm.

Come to think of it, the people surrounding you were right: you and Bokuto weren’t just friends but merely oblivious idiots in love.

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classyinnie · 2 years

Text

"𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟..."

content: Tsukishima Kei x reader — hurt/comfort, reverse comfort, established relationship | 0.9k words

warnings: academic validation, mentions of self-doubt

notes: I had to learn the hard way that poor grades don’t equate to failure. It's alright to take a break and to take things slow. You are much more than your academic achievements. Give yourself grace <3

Cold dread filled Tsukishima’s being as he pulled the alleged exam report from his bag. He made sure to check it only once he arrived home. Slowly, the circled 60 emerged in red ink, and the dread he felt quickly ensnared its claws on his throat, choking him.

He barely passed and clearly fell short of his expectations.

Oh, was it a sight he never wanted to revisit. He tried to bury it, to rip every ounce of its evidence – shred the piece of paper as he wished he could tear down every ounce of self-regret that was eating him alive on the inside. Drowning him in a never-ending pit of what-ifs.

He can feel the thoughts clinging to him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike – when the reality finally sinks in and he won't be able to escape. It would keep repeating itself until all he could think about was how much of a failure he had become. What an undeserving being he’s been. He hated it. Detested himself for missing the mark, for losing every ounce of grip he should've had. Loathed himself for not being enough.

If he should’ve studied more, If he should’ve paid attention to class more, If he should’ve spent another all-nighter,

Then maybe, every ounce of regret would be non-existent, and he wouldn't have to force himself to be content with a 60.

Tsukishima stared at the crumpled evidence of his failure. He kept staring until his vision blurred and he couldn't see it through the harsh wipe he was giving his eyes. As each brick he piled on himself reached its peak, as he cradled his head in his arms, the voice continued to chatter: If you can't even pass this test, what are you good for?

*** That’s where you found him; on the floor. Head ledged on his bed, glasses discarded, eyes unblinking as he observed the shambles in front of him. You knew what was wrong the moment you spotted the scattered pieces of paper. A similar copy is in your bag.

You immediately drop to the floor, hands desperately finding his face – for his eyes to look at you, but his gaze never strayed from the remains of the paper.

“Kei.” You attempted to bring your face into his line of sight. “Hey, look at me.”

And when your eyes met, when the cold, broken soul beneath shone on the surface, you swear you could physically hear your heart break. You wondered how you were going to stay strong when seeing him like this was capable of shattering you into pieces. Physically rip you from the inside out.

You desperately wiped each angry tear that he failed to hold back. “This does not define you.” You motioned to the paper, voice shaking. “It has never and will never define you.”

Tsukishima shook his head and let out a sob. He tried to stop it by placing a palm to his mouth, but the dam broke before he could patch it up. You were crying before you could even hold it together. You were so scared he’ll retract from it again. The level of comfort you worked so hard to make him understand he deserves.

You bring his head to your chest, hands immediately placing soothing strokes to his hair, desperate for him to calm down. To remind him that this wasn’t high school anymore. That he doesn’t need to bear the brunt alone because you are here. You will stay and willingly share the burden.

Growing up, you were exposed to the race of academic excellence. The constant validation that comes with flawlessly written essays, and maintaining outstanding transcripts. It’s what originally drew the both of you together, a bond that, unbeknownst to you and him, blossomed into something more.

You held onto each other until what’s left of the breakdown was slight hiccups here and there. You had been in that position for so long that your legs were stiff, and the rasp in your throat and burning in your lungs had become unbearable. You were both now leaning against Tsukishima's bedside. His limp figure slumped beside you.

You took his hands, which were fiddling unconsciously. Holding it tight, you brought it to your lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this mess,” Tsukishima said, his voice above a whisper and raspy.

“What do you mean? I love this mess.” You squeeze his hand for emphasis. “You have to give yourself credit as well, you know? You passed the test.”

“Barely.”

“Yes, but you gave it your all. You've done everything you could to prepare, study, and revise. It’s fine to make room for failed expectations. It doesn’t make you any less human.”

That is true. You have seen him sacrifice nights of sleep just to prepare for the exam. You know how it feels to miss the mark even after putting in so much effort; It's almost a constant visitor. You used to always go through it if it wasn’t for Kei, who pulled you out of that darkness. The thoughts can be draining, but it’s not insurmountable. Especially not for him, you’re sure of that.

Tsukishima hums. “You want tea.”

It was more of a demand than a question. “Sure,” You could only laugh at the implication.

Tsukishima pulls himself up and lends a hand for you. Placing a quick kiss on your forehead, he murmurs, “Thank you for staying despite this mess.”

Even if he doesn’t uphold a certain reputation, Even if he didn’t reach the mark, Even if he failed,

It wouldn’t make him less than an individual because he is more than written numbers on sheets. And you made it a point to remind him of that each day.

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classyinnie · 2 years

Text

loving him is like...

彡 sugawara koshi, kageyama tobio ; [gn!reader]

genre: cavity inducing fluff

notes: this is what happens when I give my touch starved self a pen. It will write to its heart content and there is no guarantee that it will not be sappy.

➶ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² ⁽ᵏⁱᵗᵃ⁻ⁿⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵒʸᵃ⁾

━━ sugawara koshi;

Loving Sugawara is like a breeze of cool air on a scorching hot day. It’s like a fulfilling bite of chocolate parfait on a lovely afternoon. It’s whipped cream-covered hands and flour-covered faces. It's filled with addicting touches that you can’t get enough of. If loving Sugawara was candy, it would be the sweetest kind. The one that leaves you craving for more despite the toothaches you're bound to get afterward.

Sugawara makes loving so easy...

A squeal left your lips as you felt a pair of flour-covered hands grab your face. The action was gentle, almost feather-light, but the suddenness had you clutching your chest. “Don’t do that.” You laughed nonetheless.

“I love you so much.” He says with so much adoration in his voice, sweetness that you could almost taste on your lips.

The sheer randomness of the situation made you giggle. “All of a sudden?”

“Yeah.” He sounded almost out of breath. “Just felt this sudden urge to say it.”

See, loving Sugawara was like a breath of fresh air. It won’t sweep you off your feet but ground you amid any chaotic situation. In your case now, the cluttered kitchen.

You leaned further in his palm and placed your hands on top of his hand. “Love you too.”

He plant a kiss on your forehead and lets you go. He continues piping different flowers on the cookies you baked – no sign of the sudden action earlier but a refreshed smile playing on his lips. He bumps you with his hip, “Have I ever told you how much my students love listening when I talk about you?”

Loving Sugawara is so damn easy; it's almost like breathing.

━━ kageyama tobio;

Loving Kageyama is like finding the last piece of your favorite drink in the fridge. The feeling of relief that comes after long study hours. It’s reassurances through shared kisses on the places where it hurts. A much-needed shoulder to lean on after a long day. Mundane chores turned into acts of love and care because for him ‘actions speak louder than words.’

The sound of the fizzing bubbles and the smell of cherry-scented shampoo was almost enough to lull you to sleep. Skillful hands gently massage the shampoo on your scalp. The weight of the long day finally hit you at this point. You felt tired, so depleted that whatever burdens of the day seemed to double. The thought pushed you deeper into the tub as if it were physically affecting you.

However, the warmth of the person sitting on the edge of the tub drew you back to the present.

“Hey…” You slowly turned to him, “Thank you for this. You didn’t have to.”

“But I want to. Now turn around, I’m not yet done.” He twirls his finger in emphasis before returning to massaging your hair. You fight the urge to close your eyes and relish in the comfortable silence.

Kageyama seems to notice this because he says, “If you want to rest for a while, you can. I’ll just wake you up when I need to rinse your hair.”

You responded with nothing more than a hum before finally succumbing to the darkness – feeling safe in the arms of home.

Loving Kageyama is a tender reminder of the relief that awaits after the unforgiving grasps of exhaustion.

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