#haikyuu x reader angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oreosmama · 7 months

Text

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts.

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance.

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes.

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet.

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting.

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle.

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.”

You suck in a breath.

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.”

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead.

“I need you back.”

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing.

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek.

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was.

“I didn’t know…”

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return.

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly.

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache.

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time.

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow.

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull.

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears.

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his.

Were.

You were his.

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb.

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it.

“I need to see you.”

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face.

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.”

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do.

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys.

Then the sound of a door slamming.

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving.

“I need to see you.”

And the voicemail ends.

_________________________

Satori Tendou:

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief.

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond.

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it.

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs.

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker.

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg.

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something.

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months.

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day.

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went.

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done.

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke.

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon.

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking.

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh.

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time.

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue.

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself.

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled.

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #satori x reader #oikawa tooru #tendou satori #satori tendou #tooru oikawa #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu headcanons

1K notes · View notes

strwbrryeyes · 3 months

Text

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist

⟡ featuring: suna, oikawa, tsukishima, atsumu

⟡ cw: angst, idk still bad at these

⟡ an: i found my old breakup playlist from three years ago and took inspiration from that so these songs are old lol. writing this was silly because im in a loving relationship but it was like i felt all the pain of a breakup again </3

⟡ part two, part three

⟡ suna rintarou: you broke me first - tate mcrae

suna would be the one to break things off with you. when you first started dating he genuinely thought he loved you but as time went on and he became more distant, you started to feel like he was losing feelings for you so you asked him about it. in his words, "i think you were just the first girl to give me attention after my last relationship" and "im not ready for a relationship". a week later, he starts talking about all the girls that have come to him after the breakup and started talking about his hookups to you. this bothered you and hurt you deeply so you decided to cut things off with him completely and he was not a fan of this. so he tried everything to try to get you to talk to him again saying that he misses you and that he wants to get back together. you couldn't care less though, he's already broken your heart too many times for you not to notice his pattern of wanting your attention just to make you jealous or upset. in the end, it actually did end up hurting him and made him realize what he lost. he knew he fucked up but there's no going back anymore.

⟡ oikawa tooru: over breakfast - ellise

it's been a few months since oikawa left for argentina. it's been hard for the both of to be apart for so long and in completely different timezones. you could feel the connection fading but neither of you wanted to admit it because you both loved each other so much. but the longer you guys try to keep the relationship afloat, the more frequent you end up arguing over text or facetime. but you both decided that it could be something to figure out when oikawa visits for the holidays. well, the holidays come around and you finally have time to see each other and talk in person. from the moment oikawa entered your apartment, you both knew it was over. you could tell so many things have changed over the course of the last few months but instead of facing it, you just decide to spend one more night together just to have one final time to say that you tried. it was bittersweet and it hurt a lot but you didn't want the night to end. maybe you could fix this over night? in the morning everything will be better and you can set aside your differences! unfortunately, that morning, nothing had changed and you and oikawa finally came to terms with the fact that maybe you two just maybe weren't meant to be.

⟡ tsukishima kei: high definition - waterparks

when tsukishima was still part of the sendai frogs, he traveled a lot. it's not like he was off in another country like some of his old teammates and rivals, no, you lived with him. even though you two had been dating for quite some time by this point, tsukishima still had trouble expressing his love for you. he tended to push you away whenever he was stressed even though the one thing he wanted the most was your comfort and loving. he was just worried he would end up snapping at you and making you hate him. he didn't know that you'd end up upset with him regardless. you loved him so much but you don't know how long you could going on like this. i mean come on! tsukishima was always away for volleyball matches and even when he's home...it's like he's still not even there. tsukishima knew that you were starting to slip away from him so one day he sat you down and explained how he was feeling and it was finally then that you understood why he acted the way he did. you tried protesting his decision to break up with you but he kept insisting it was for the better. by the next week tsukishima had moved out leaving you alone in the once shared apartment, wishing and hoping he'd come back one day.

⟡ miya atsumu: better off - ariana grande

everyone knew that atsumu could be hot headed most of the time when it came to volleyball but what they didn't know is that it would sometimes affect your relationship with him. much like tsukishima, he would close himself off from you whenever he was mad at the world or whatever else there is that could make him upset. it was starting to get tiring for you. you felt like you had to walk on egg shells around him just so he wouldn't snap at you (wether he meant to or not- his mind would always fog up). towards the end of your relationship, you could feel yourself start to get numb in regards to your feelings towards atsumu. atsumu couldn't really tell at this point that you were losing hope for the relationship. if anything he thought everything was normal but that was only because half of the time he was too much into his own thoughts to notice any flaws between the two of you. it wasn't until he came home one day after an away game on the other side of japan and found that all of your stuff was gone along with you, that he realized nothing is what it used to be. he found a note from you that explained that you weren't happy in the relationship anymore and that you felt trapped. you also stated that you hope he figures out his issues and that you'll always be there for him if he needs but that right now you just needed space. atsumu spent that night crying and angry at himself for letting your relationship get to this point.

326 notes · View notes

avis-writeshq · 1 year

Text

miya atsumu – a lovely night

genre&warnings: rated 16+ for enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and slowburn; mentions of eating and unsafe usage of cooking knives!! fem!reader

a/n: it was meant to be a small drabble but i got carried away lmao (i’ve also been working on this for more than a year so my peep my writing style changes LMFAOOO)

w/c: 10k exact

“i hate it here.”

“you say that every morning,” aneko chuckled, tying her hair up in a ponytail. “what happened this time?”

“i have a biology presentation soon and i’m not looking forward to it.” you side-eyed the window, watching as students begin filing out of their dorm rooms and into the walkways that lead to the campus.

aneko sighed, patting your shoulder. “you’ll do fine. you do well in every presentation, you know that.”

a lopsided smile made its way onto your face as you shrug your bag over your shoulder. “thanks, aneko… i’m gonna get some coffee. you want anything?”

she shook her head ‘no’, and you shrugged, making your way down the stairs, crossing the dormitories to the cafe next to the campus.

as soon as you took your place in line, a scalding sensation erupts through your shirt and all over your chest, and you jump back in shock and pain.

“what the hell?” you demand, hissing as the coffee burned your skin. unfortunately, the perpetrator is nowhere to be found, seemingly fleeing the scene. the last thing you see of the person is a volleyball jacket and piss-coloured hair.

gritting your teeth in frustration, you storm out of the cafe, ignoring the cries of the cafe staff and trailing after him. “oi! piss hair! you little…” a grunt escapes your lips as he makes a turn, disappearing into the sea of students.

eyes narrowing into slits, you marched your way back to your dorm, throwing the door open.

“what happened to you?” sakura frowned, getting up from her seat on the couch. “oh, and aneko’s on her date.”

“first of all,” you scowled, dumping your bags on the ground and retreating to the bathroom, “if you ever see a piss-haired brat, punch them in the face for me.”

“piss-haired brat,” she rolled her eyes in amusement before asking, “are you alright, (y/n)?”

tugging the shirt over your head, you stormed back out into the kitchen. “i have a biology presentation in an hour, i had boiling coffee spill on me and the guy didn’t even apologise! and now aneko has to go and flaunt her non-singleness to the world!”

“well, that guy is a douchebag,” she hummed. “and you know you always get the highest score in biology, so that’s not an issue for you. oh and you’re never going to guess what kou-chan told me!”

you raise an unsuspecting eyebrow, “what?”

she squeals, her hand clapping in excitement. “they knows someone who needs a date! he’s looking for a partner!”

your nose scrunched in distaste, “you set me up with six dates since last september and it’s only the beginning of january. do i really want your help in finding a date?”

“i know someone. trust me on this, okay?” she pats your shoulder and smooths out your hair. “are you free tomorrow night?”

“i think so…” you eye her wearily. “i’m trusting you, got it?”

she grins, the smile stretching across her face in excitement, “i won’t let you down! oh, you should start heading to biology.”

you nod, “alright… i’ll see you later. it’s your turn to buy groceries, so don’t forget!”

shooting you a thumbs up, sakura goes back to her fashion magazine, and you close the dorm door. maybe the day would get better? it can only go up from here… right? shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, you half-jog to the lecture hall, clutching at the strap of your shoulder bag. the hall is already half-filled with people reading over their notes, doing last-minute editing, and practising.

finding a seat near the middle, you began taking out all your notes from your bag. as you read through your entire presentation, the chair beside you screeched as someone took a seat there.

glancing up at the person to say a quick greeting and then you realised — “you!”

you bolted up from your seat, your eyes narrowed and the chair screeched as it dragged against the floor. he gapes, watching you stand.

“the hell ya talkin’ about?”

“you–” you flinched as the sharp hushing of students met your ears and you bowed sheepishly in apology. you turned back to the smug-looking brat, hissing your explanations. “the main issue is the fact that you spilled hot coffee on me. what’s worse is how you didn’t even apologise!”

he chuckled, “i see. you’re just a fan who wants attention! okay, you can watch our volleyball practice–”

“i don’t want to watch your stupid volleyball practice!” you snapped, gathering your books and shoving them into your bag. “unless you want to apologise, i don’t want to see your ugly face and piss hair.”

“hey–”

flipping him off as discreetly as possible, you stalked your way over to the other side of the lecture hall, sitting in between two students.

one raised their eyebrow at you. “is miya atsumu your boyfriend?”

you scoffed, muttering under your breath, “atsumu? what a shitty name…” you turn back to them, “no, he’s not my boyfriend. if he was, he would be dead by now.”

they nod, eyebrows raised, before turning back to their notes.

you, on the other hand, were left to your thoughts. miya? where have you heard that name before? and why the hell did he look so familiar?

***

“oi–”

“are you going to apologise?” you asked, not looking at him as you pack up your things after your successful presentation. “listen, buddy, i'm in a good mood. something i don’t want you screwing up.”

“i’m not here to apologise,” he huffed, “but maybe i can make it up to you?”

“i only want an apology, sweet cheeks,” a sarcastic smile bloomed on your face, and you patted his cheek snarkily. “now if you excuse me, i would like to get the coffee i couldn’t get this morning.”

“i’ll treat you,” atsumu offered and you shot him a glare.

“sure. i’ll take an apology with a side of sincerity.”

the smile on your face grew wider and you walked out of the lecture room and into the throng of students.

***

“i sure hope that this date of mine is as good as you say…” you hummed, searching through your bag to make sure you have everything. “why does it have to be at this fancy restaurant again?”

“because the guy just so happens to be extra,” sakura says, taking a left turn and parking in front of a tall building. “you are wearing the heels i gave you right?”

you nodded begrudgingly, recalling how she forced you to wear them before you left your dorm.

she squealed, her bright blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “okay, so here’s the rundown. the restaurant is ise sueyoshi–”

“i’m sorry, ise sueyoshi, as in one of the most expensive restaurants in all of tokyo?”

“i tried to talk him out of it,” she defended, grimacing at the thought of the bill. “look, it’ll be fine. just don’t think about it, okay? after the restaurant, you’ll take a nice walk around the city! oh, and i’m confiscating your keys.”

you blanched, “what, why?”

“so that you can’t ditch him halfway. no one is going to be home until your date is over, so there’s no reason for you to ditch.” she grinned, “you’ll be fine! he’s a good guy, trust me on this.”

you groaned in annoyance but pushed the car door open. “i’ll call you when i get inside the restaurant.”

she beamed, yelling, “the reservation is under hasegawa sakura!” before driving off into the distance.

a sigh left your lips as you stomp your way inside the building, taking the lift to the 11th floor. after entering the restaurant, you take a seat, looking at the bright city of tokyo below you.

“what a view, huh?”

no. you scowled, looking up at atsumu. “i’ve seen better.”

he shrugged, taking the seat in front of you and swirling his cup of wine around. “so yer my blind date. i would have thought that sakura had better friends.”

you sneered as you rose from your seat. “i was thinking the same thing. the only reason i’m on this stupid date is because of her, anyway.”

he grinned, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he says, “so ya asked her to set’cha up with me? very cute, sweetheart, but if ya wanted to go on a date with me, ya could have just asked.”

you scoffed, “i know full well about your reputation with girls, sweetheart. they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts. besides, why the hell would i be attracted to someone like you?”

atsumu flinched at the honesty in your voice. do people really see him as some dream crusher heart breaker? “listen, sweet cheeks–” he relished in the way your cheeks darken at his words– “i am a great person.”

“yes, because every ‘great person’ flaunts about it in the hallways. yes, miya, you’re a great person.” the sarcasm rolled off your tongue fluidly, and he can’t help but roll his eyes when you speak again. “i lost my appetite. excuse me.”

he bolted up from his seat, eyes wide as you throw your bag over your shoulder and make your way out of the restaurant. “woah, woah, woah. do ya know how hard it was to get a reservation here? i even got a suit for this!”

“no, i don’t know how hard it was to get a reservation here. and this is just further proof you’re an asshole. you want to show off your money to some random stranger, knowing entirely that it’s a blind date.” you fake a smile and bow to the staff members.

atsumu faltered in his step before continuing to run after you. “okay, listen–”

“no, i am not going to listen, because the only thing that comes out of your mouth is bullshit. come on sakura, pick up…”

“(l/n)–”

“stop! okay, just… just stop.” your nostrils flared, and you turned around to shoot him a venomous glare. “i don’t care about you or your dumb polyester suit–”

“it’s wool.”

“–but you have to be stupid to think that i’d ever fall for you.”

he groaned, wiping his face in frustration. “we’re both doing this for sakura so can ya just cooperate for one damn night?”

you grit your teeth, eyeing him carefully, “okay. just one night.”

***

“i have t’ask,” atsumu begins, your bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. “why are ya on this date anyway? woulda thought that someone as charming as you would have had a date by now.”

“i could ask you the same question,” you quip, eyes fixated on the bright city lights that you could see from the aoyama bridge. “it’s not important anyway.”

he shrugged, “just wanted to know why.”

“both sakura and aneko have boyfriends. it kind of sucks to be the third wheel all the time. they give me hell for not doing anything on friday nights, too,” you shrug, “i mean, it’s not a big deal.”

atsumu snorts at your words. “so you want a date for the sake of having a date?”

“i want a date for the sake of not being lonely,” you correct, “but i think i’m going to have to be lonely for the time being.”

“an’ why do you think that?” a lazy smirk rests on his lips. “i’d be a perfect boyfriend.”

“yeah, that’d appeal to someone who believes in romance,” you laugh, patting his cheek and taking your bag off him.

to miya atsumu, life is a competition to be the best. who can win the most volleyball games? who can get the highest test result? who can eat the most onigiris from onigiri miya without taking breaks? life to him is a competition. it’s a race to the finish line and the person who gets there first is the winner. and what you just said? it sounds an awful lot like a challenge.

“alright then,” he grins at you, “i’ll make you fall in love with me by… say, end of june.”

“what’s that going to do for you? give you an ego boost?” you roll your eyes, “i’m not doing that.”

“scared, sweetheart?”

crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a glare. “no, i’m not. but i hope you realise that i am frankly feeling nothing.”

“is that so?”

“mmm, no. in fact, it could be less than nothing.”

he chuckles, “good to know. so, you agree?”

“that this is a waste of a lovely night? yes.”

“you know what i mean. if i can make you fall in love with me by the end of june, you have to be my girlfriend.”

you snort in response, “if i didn’t know any better, miya, i’d say you’re in love with me.”

he rolls his eyes, clearly ignoring your first remark. “alright then, choose your prize if you’re so confident.”

“if you fall in love with me…” you hum an evil glint in your eye, “i get total and full control over your social media.”

he smirks, holding out his hand for you to shake. “anything for you, princess.”

***

to you, life was about survival. don’t die, don’t mess up, don’t be a failure. that also meant ‘don’t get lonely, because that just screws things up for everyone’. aneko had eito, her boyfriend since high school, and sakura had taniguchi kou, the manager for the ejp volleyball team. that must have been how she even had connections to miya atsumu in the first place. survival was also not doing anything unnecessary. whether it be sleeping at ungodly hours, binge-watching an entire anime, or just studying too much, you couldn’t do that because it’ll destroy your schedule the next day. your life was based on routine. that is, it was based on routine.

“hey, (y/n), there’s some mail for you!” aneko yells out into the dorm, waving a pristine envelope around.

you raise an eyebrow. “it’s probably junk, just throw it out!”

“i’m gonna open it, okay?” she beams at you as you crack an egg into the pan.

“knock yourself out.”

you hum quietly to yourself as you turn off the stove and move the egg on top of your rice. grabbing a pair of chopsticks from your drawer, you cut through the egg, just as you hear a squeal.

“(y/n), oh my god, did you buy volleyball tickets? they’re vips, too!”

“what?” you push your seat back, grabbing the envelope from aneko’s hands. “i didn’t buy any volleyball tickets? it’s probably been given to the wrong person.”

“but there was a note for you in the envelope…” she frowned, “are you sure that it’s not for you?”

confusion was clear on your face as you pulled the note out, but it was replaced with a look of pure annoyance when you realised exactly who the note was from.

‘dear: (l/n) (y/n),

see you in the stands ;)

from: atsumu <3’

a deep scowl plasters itself onto your face and you dial his number into your phone.

“did you–”

“you absolute asshole!” you yell into your phone, swiftly cutting him off, slapping a hand against your forehead. “i’m not going to your dumb volleyball game, got it? i have things to do and places to be.”

“you and i both know that isn’t true, sweetheart,” he snorts and you can practically hear his eye roll. “you told me yourself - you don’t usually have plans on friday nights.”

you grimace because yes, you did say that. “well maybe i have plans now?” the words came out as a question and he chuckles.

“come on, it’ll be fun!”

“we’ll see,” you mutter before hanging up.

***

“i’ve never been in a proper volleyball stadium before,” aneko says as she bit into her onigiri. “i can’t believe you got vip tickets, (n/n)!”

“yeah… amazing,” you manage, a meek smile plastered on your face.

the entire stadium looks as if a rainbow puked on it. bright, colourful posters to support the players well held high in the air by multiple people. banners hang over the stands, the team’s logo and motto drawn in neat calligraphy... the multitude of people who came to watch was overwhelming – almost every seat has been filled.

“the first match is… black jackals versus the sendai frogs!” aneko beams as she looks at the flyer. “wow, they’re both really good. (y/n), look at them!”

forcing the flyer in front of your face, you push it away from you so you could properly read it, taking note of the team members. each of the members on both teams look good — really good. you look around yourself and chuckle, of course. no wonder it was so full. most of the fans are girls anyway.

one girl, sporting a bright blue shirt with the words ‘go atsumu!’, happens to catch your eye. she’s a typical popular girl — false clumpy lashes that you can spot from a mile away, hair curled in obnoxious rings, and a banner that screamed ‘look at me!’. you can tell from the amused looks the people gave her that she is a common spectator at msby games.

“that’s emiko etsudo,” aneko grumbles, catching your gaze, “she’s in my lecture and never stops talking.”

“seems to be the type,” you snort, turning back to the volleyball courts where the players began to take their places.

the black jackals are insane. even when they were just starting up you can already tell how skilled they are. each spike that hits against the glossy wooden floors sends shivers down your spine. as the game went on and got more intense, it’s clear that msby was in the lead in the fifth set. both teams won two sets each, an impressive feat in itself, and the score for the fifth set is close — 11-10 in the jackal’s favour.

soon enough, atsumu’s turn to serve came around after a quick rotation, and the cheerleaders and band immediately fell into a hush. your eyes meet with atsumu and he sends a wink your way, resulting in a high pitched shriek to resound throughout the stadium. you can hear emiko freaking out and screaming that he was winking at her, amusing you. sending a small, two-fingered salute back at atsumu, you brushed your pants down as you stood up.

“i’m gonna head off to the bathroom for a second. i’ll be right back, okay?”

aneko nods, fully immersed in the game. letting out a tired sigh, you leave the gym, searching for the restroom. the volleyball game must have ended a lot quicker than you expected when an entire team walks past you, almost trampling you in the process.

“well, well, well. what do we have here?”

you groan, “miya. i’m assuming you won?”

“don’t look so excited,” he grins boyishly, and you ignore the warming of your heart as he does. “we’re gonna go get some drinks after we win. care to join?”

he slings a sweaty arm over your shoulder and you cringe, pushing his arm off. “i don’t do drinks.”

“you harassing someone, miya?” a lazy voice drawls from behind you, and you almost jump at the random voice.

“o’course not, omi-kun!” atsumu snorts, “this is (y/n)!”

“(l/n),” you correct, patting his back sarcastically, “we’re not quite there yet.”

‘omi-kun’ raises an eyebrow. “right. nice to meet you.” and with that, he followed the rest of the team into the locker room, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“that’s a character.” you roll your eyes. “anyway, i better head back to aneko. she’s probably getting worried.”

“i’ll walk ya,” he offers, a bright smile on his face, only for it to fall within seconds.

“miya? what’s—”

a harsh squeal meets your ears and you flinch, whipping around to see etsudo, her merch in plain view and looking like a disco ball.

“atsumu, oh my god, you were so good out there!” her high pitched voice rings in your ears.

“shut up—” atsumu begins, but stops short. your words echo in his head, ‘they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts’. “yeah, whatever.”

etsudo’s eyes widen and you can practically see the excitement oozing out of her. “i knew you’d love me!”

“how do you get that from— never mind,” you shake your head, a sarcastic smile on your face as you begin to walk away. “i’m gonna go. good luck with this, miya.”

“wait, hold on,” atsumu fumbles, running past etsudo and trailing behind you. “i said i would walk ya.”

“but you were having such a good time with your fangirl,” you say innocently, battering your eyelashes. “emiko etsudo, i think her name is?”

“don’t remind me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she’s gone to every game and thinks that i’m in love with her or something. spoiled pig…”

“so you don’t like her? do you hate all your fans?” you raise an eyebrow, both in curiosity and in disbelief.

he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “not all of them. you’re the only one i can tolerate.”

“smooth,” you laugh, “how many girls did you use that one on?”

“just one,” he hums, bumping his side gently against yours.

you can’t deny the fluttering of your insides as he does and you scold yourself. this is a game to him — he doesn’t feel anything for you.

“how nice of you,” you say, trying to ignore the growing blush on your cheeks and the heat that’s crawled up to your ears. “well, there’s aneko. i’m gonna go…”

“alright, then.” he grins, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “until next time, sweet cheeks.”

you gape as he leaves, cheeks hot with embarrassment and surprise. “wha-”

“(y/n), oh my god, was that atsumu?” aneko demands, shaking you to answer.

you don’t respond, trying to calm yourself down from shock, your heart racing a thousand times an hour. you don’t mean anything to him. you’re a game to him — a game that he plays just to show everyone else that he is better than them.

“(y/n)? are you okay?”

you jolt out of your trance, blinking tiredly. “oh. yeah. i’m fine.”

***

“atsumu-san, who was that?” hinata bounds up to him, all smiles after winning against his longtime rival.

“(l/n) (y/n), apparently,” sakusa responds, his hands still stuffed in his pockets and a towel around his shoulders.

“oh, she’s sakura-chan’s friend, right?” bokuto asks brightly and takes a bite of his protein bar.

atsumu nods, mind distant as he thinks about where to take you on your next ‘date’. it wouldn't be a real date if he already bet on it, right? would a cafe work? what about a cat cafe? do you even like cats?

“oi, miya.”

he looks up to see sakusa, and he grins, “knew i’d grow on you, omi-omi~”

“your face looks gross,” he scrunches his face in disgust.

“you had a funny look on your face, atsumu-san!” hinata laughs.

“like how taniguchi-san looks at sakura-chan!” bokuto agrees side-eying atsumu who was no longer paying attention to the conversation.

currently, atsumu was thinking of a million ways he could win your heart. he was thinking of a million ways to get you to fall for him, all so that he can prove to you that he isn’t as bad as you think he is. he had a little over a month to get you to fall in love with him and, granted, he did spill boiling coffee over you and then proceeded to not apologise. scratching his head in thought, a lightbulb suddenly dinged in his head. there is only one person in the world who knows everything about everything. and in this case? everyone.

***

“nice try. not happening,” sakura responds swiftly, turning away from the setter. “look, atsumu, you’re my friend and all, but the fact that you want to win my best friend over for the sake of your pride isn’t a good enough reason to ‘get to know her’. if anything, it makes you seem like an even shitter person than everyone perceives you to be.”

he snorts at her words, “you really are a friend of (y/n). come on, sakura-chan! i just need to know what she likes! that’s all!”

sakura grits her teeth, beginning to regret sending you on that date with this piss-haired brat. “i don’t care, atsumu. i’m not going to let you break her heart for the sake of your stupid pride. you want to use someone for your stupid experiment? fine, not my problem, but you’re going to use my best friend.”

he flinches at her icy tone, now understanding why kou-san warned him about getting on sakura’s bad side. despite her incredibly bright and sunny disposition, she really was incredibly terrifying when it came to the people that she cared about which was not good for him. next attempt? fukuhara aneko.

“i don’t understand why you’re trying so hard,” aneko remarks as she invites atsumu into the shared apartment, “you’re doing this… because you want to be known as some dreamboat who breaks girls’ hearts left right and centre?”

“i’m doing this to prove a point,” atsumu corrects, “but when you say it that way—”

“i am not going to let you break my best friend’s heart,” aneko cuts in, taking a knife out of the knife block and waving it around halfheartedly, relishing in the way the setter flinches. “nice try, though.”

he groans in annoyance, “sakura-chan said the same thing.”

“then why are you trying?” aneko demands, frustration clear in her voice, “you’re putting all this effort in to ‘prove a point’. do you know how ridiculous you sound? what’s the real reason you want to win (y/n) over?”

at her words, atsumu falls silent. as cliche as it seemed, you were interesting to him. you’re different, and at his thoughts, the volleyball player cringes internally. to be entirely fair, and to give you credit, you stood your ground around him which was admirable, to say the least. unlike the other ‘spoiled pigs’, you actually have some sort of awareness. maybe he…

he shakes his head, snorting quietly. as if he attracted to someone the likes of you.

“i’ll figure it out myself,” atsumu concludes, avoiding aneko’s unimpressed gaze. “she has to fall for me at some point. does she have any social media?”

“i thought you said that you’ll figure it out yourself,” aneko responds drily. “why don’t you just ask her yourself? let me guess; your pride?"

to atsumu, that sounded a whole lot like a challenge.

***

for a friday morning, you were surprisingly busy, especially because of all the practice exams you’ve been doing as preparation for an exam that will take place in less than three months. but of course, no day passes without a few random interruptions.

“hey, sweetheart, you doing anything?”

atsumu’s annoying voice rang in your ears through the phone, and you couldn’t help but grit your teeth. “what do you want, miya?”

“i was just wondering if there’s anything in particular you wanted to do, lately,” he responds, his voice in a sing-song tone. “just figured i should take you out on a better date.”

you scoff at his proposal, “nice try, miya. you’re not getting me that easily.”

“aw, don’t be like that, darling! i’ll take you out to get coffee, how about that?”

a silence washes over you as you consider his offer. to be entirely fair, you couldn’t really say no to a free food, and it did give him a chance to redeem himself. not to mention you definitely did need the coffee at some point.

“alright, miya, let’s do it.” you shrug, not that he could see it, “when and where?”

“i’ll text you the address,” he responds, and you can hear the pride and smugness through the phone. “see you there, babe.”

from: miya

hey princess!

from: miya

[sent location]

from: miya

see you in 20!

a sigh escapes your lips, not believing that you actually let yourself be dragged into this mess – a mess that was only made for atsumu’s pride and ego. picking up your bag, you made your way over to the location he sent you, praying that it wasn’t some sick joke and that you weren’t about to be murdered.

your arrival at the cafe doesn’t go unnoticed by the volleyball player, the little bell at the door welcoming you in and announcing your presence to the rest of the people inside. you don’t miss the way atsumu’s head spins around to look at you, a boyish grin spreading onto his face as if to say, “i can’t believe you’re actually here.” you find it funny, considering how he’s the one who invited you here in such an ominous way. he waves you over enthusiastically – too enthusiastically – and you ignore the quickening of your heart at the way he looks so excited to see you.

he’s not happy to see you, you have to remind yourself – although you feel your heart begin to sink at your own thoughts. you huff, now is not the time to be caught up in his romantic theatrics. the only reason why he’s so excited to see you is to rub it in your face that you actually fell for it. right?

“i already ordered for us!” atsumu said happily, taking a sip of his coffee for affect, “ya don’t mind, do ya, princess?”

“atsumu, do you really think i’m a princess?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.

“ya know i do, princess!” he smiles, pushing a dark chocolate mocha towards you.

“then stop making decisions for me,” you deadpan, crossing your legs. “how do you even know what i order anyway?”

another obnoxious grin your way as he answers, “i have connections.”

you scoff once again, rolling your eyes as you lifted the drink to your lips.

atsumu hates the way his eyes fell to your lips as you spoke and he hates the way his heart began to pound the second you stepped through the door of the cafe. he isn’t supposed to feel this way – he’s not supposed to like you. so he suppresses his feelings. as usual.

the date – could you even call it a date? – ended on a positive note to your surprise. atsumu was clearly doing his best to be ‘the man of your dreams’, and as much as you appreciated his gentlemanly ways, you hated to admit that you missed his teasing charms and his childish antics. the idea of you missing his annoying nature is beyond your own understanding, to the point where you were almost sure that he had successfully brainwashed you.

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts away as you return to the present. atsumu decided to walk you back to your dorm which, to give him credit, was actually quite sweet of him… even though you kept insisting that it wasn’t necessary.

“hey, lets do this again sometime,” you find yourself saying, realising that you actually did enjoy the boy’s company. “it was fun!”

he smirks smugly at you, and you had to laugh as he says, “i knew i’d grow on you, love!”

“just be yourself next time,” you snort, patting him on the shoulder as you walk to the entrance of your dorm building. “i’m paying!”

“as if!” he yells back, and you smile as he waves goodbye.

you’re left to your thoughts as you ride the elevator to the seventh floor, thinking over what just transpired. it was weird – considering atsumu’s naturally flirtatious character – and if you had to be completely honest with yourself, it was unnerving seeing him do a complete one-eighty regarding his personality.

the biggest thing that worried you was how he was so willing and quick to change his personality for someone. was he that desperate to prove himself to a complete stranger?

“so…?”

you hear a voice as you enter your dorm. there, sakura leaned against the kitchen counter, the biggest and the smuggest look on her face.

“how was the date?” she coos, eyes glistening in mischief.

“weird,” you respond, dropping your bags to the side as you pull a chair out to sit. “sakura, you know him. has he ever been in any… bad relationships?”

she thinks for a moment before responding, “why do you ask?”

you shrug, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “he just seems to eager to prove how macho he is. did something happen?”

“from what i know, and from what kou’s told me, he’s always been like that. you could always ask osamu-san, though. you know him, the owner of onigiri miya.”

you clicked your fingers in acknowledgement, “so that’s why he looked so familiar! i haven’t been to that place in ages!”

she nods, “ask osamu. tell him i sent you.”

***

“kombu-onigiri for (l/n) (y/n)!” osamu calls out to the small crowd of people, and you have to do a double take when you see him.

he was practically the same as atsumu, aside from his dark grey eyes and ash brown hair, and you had to hold your tongue from complaining.

“thanks,” you smile, taking the little bag.

“i haven’t seen you in a while,” osamu comments as he prepares another order. “busy with uni?”

you sigh tiredly, “it is what it is. i wanted to talk to you about something.”

he nods, “shoot. umekaka-onigiri for kimura!”

“it’s about atsumu.”

he stops before turning to you slowly. “... let’s wait until i close, yeah? happy to wait for another hour or so?”

“take your time.”

time passes quickly among the quiet vocaloid music and the volleyball game that played on the tv overhead, as well as the multitude of customers that came and went. osamu gave you complimentary onigiris while you waited and despite your initial denial of the free food, you had to give in to the soft smell of caramelised rice and sesame oil.

it was well past seven o’clock by the time osamu was able to speak to you, but at least you were well fed while you waited.

“sorry about that,” osamu apologises, untying his apron and placing a cup of hot green tea in front of you. “what did you want to talk about?”

at that moment, you want to scream at the universe. of course, you’re stuck with the annoying stuck up brat instead of the sweet chef that sat in front of you.

“don’t worry about it,” you smile, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “atsumu… has he ever been in any bad romantic relationships?”

he doesn’t respond directly, instead chuckling and asking, “you’re the girl he’s seeing, aren’t you? the hard-headed one? what does he call you again? oh, ‘princess’, was it?”

you raise an eyebrow, “he talks about me?”

he smirks, leaning back in his seat and there’s a smugness as he says, “a lot more than you think, princess.”

you take back everything you said about the universe. both the miya twins were equally insufferable.

“don’t call me that. and answer the question!”

his face falls from the obnoxious grin he once had and settles into a frown. “he was. a year ago, with… tachibana reina, i think. fucking bitch.”

your eyes widen at the sudden coldness and spite that drips from his words. “what happened?”

“cheated on him. treated him like shit. god… no wonder he’s been going on so many dates.” he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “i shouldn’t tell you this, and frankly i shouldn’t be telling you anything, but…”

he looks around, almost comically, before saying, “i really think you’re good for him, (y/n). i’m serious. out of all the girls he’s gone on dates with, he’s made it pretty clear that he likes you.”

you almost laugh if he wasn’t so serious. “he’s only trying so hard to prove a point, osamu. he doesn’t feel anything for me.”

he sips his green tea, laughing quietly, “i promise he actually likes you. he’s just scared, y’know?”

“from everything you’ve told me? i get it.” it’s your turn to frown as you digest his words. “i just need to take care of myself too, that’s all.”

“just talk to him. really, he’s not as bad a guy as you’d expect.”

***

after days of psyching yourself up – only to psych yourself out – you find yourself waiting at the university gym, cringing internally at the smell of sweat and antiperspirant. but all that goes away the moment you sit at the bleachers, the manager of the team nodding in acknowledgement. the rest of the volleyball team didn’t seem to notice your entry into the gym, and if they did, they clearly didn’t pay any mind to it as they continued their practice game. and damn was it a view. strangely enough, you found your eyes to linger a little too long on a familiar blond player, him sporting the number ‘7’ on his jersey.

as much as you wanted to deny it, it was undeniably cute and inspiring to see him work so hard. but it all comes crashing down when he lands awkwardly on his leg after a block.

it all happens so quickly; the captain calling for a time-out, the manager rushing over to him and the coach yelling for everyone to give him some room. you stand from your seat, hoping to get a better view of what was going on, and you did. and you wished you just stayed seated or you could purge the image out of your memory.

there atsumu sat, trying and failing to get up without anyone’s help. it was a painful scene to watch as he gasped in pain and exhaustion, denying his captain’s hand and ignoring his manager’s pleas to let the rest of the team help him.

“hey, atsumu…”

his neck snaps to look at you, your hand outstretched with a lopsided smile on your face (you tried to make it reassuring).

“come on, ‘tsumu. let’s get you to the infirmary.”

you help him wrap an arm over your neck as you hoist him up, him balancing on his good leg.

“i got it from here,” you say to the coach who let out a heave of relief.

“thank you, (l/n).”

the walk to the infirmary was quiet, and although it was only a short distance, the journey seemed to stretch on and on. the moment he makes his presence aware to the nurse, she fusses over him, almost like a mother goose tending to her child.

it was obvious that atsumu was doing his best to stay strong, despite how his brown eyes glossed over with tears and how he hissed in pain when the nurse moved his ankle slightly.

“a sprain,” she says to the both of you, before addressing the boy in front of her. “grade two sprain, teetering to grade three. i’m calling six weeks off the ankle and then rehab for two weeks.”

“that’s… two months?”

the voice crack is evident in the setter’s voice and he’s on the verge of tears. you would be, too if you were in his shoes. taking one month off to recover is already bad enough for an athlete, let alone two.

she nods, “i’ll let your coach know. stay off the ankle, atsumu, i mean it.” she turns to you, “you make sure of it, okay?”

“of course.”

you drive atsumu’s car (a fancy mercedes because apparently their team was sponsored by them or something like that) to his dorm, helping him onto the couch.

“are you okay?”

he nods and you watch him swallow the lump in his throat.

you ask him again, and it’s only then when he cries. you sit beside him as he cries into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek and your ear as you rub his back. you press kisses to the top of his head, denying every horrible harsh thing that comes out of his mouth. he cries and cries until there’s nothing left to cry about. he cries about his injury and how he’s letting everyone down. he cries about how he’s never good enough and how you deserve better – someone who isn’t stuck up and obnoxious. he cries about reina and how it’s his fault she fell out of love with him. he cries about how he was horrible to osamu, his brother who put up with all his problems and who always treats him with kindness despite everything. he apologises and apologises until he falls asleep in your arms, and at that moment you shed a tear.

you hate yourself for all the harsh things you say about him behind closed doors. you hate the way you thought of him as a nuisance because, god, he is the furthest thing from a nuisance. you hate the way you used to wish he wasn’t in your life because you realise that now you wouldn’t know how life would be without seeing his pretty face and his genuine joy to see you.

you move him so that he can rest his head on a cushion – a feat in itself considering that he’s 73 kilograms of pure muscle – before making a phone call.

when he finally wakes, the first thing he sees is you.

“you’re awake,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

“sorry,” he responds, his eyes puffy and swollen, and you raise an eyebrow at his word as he pushes himself up from the couch so that his back was against the backrest.

“you don’t need to apologise,” you chuckle, “anyway, i called osamu-san about what happened and he brought some food for you to eat.”

he’s silent, looking up at you, confusion clear in his eyes. why are you being so… nice to him?

“i thought you hated me,” he says bitterly, his gaze shifting to his hands.

you falter, and you stop stirring the udon. “i… i’m sorry.” you look back at the pot, “i never… i never hated you.”

he scoffs in disbelief, “you did. i know you did.”

“i didn’t,” you respond firmly, moving to pour the udon into a large bowl, “i didn’t hate you. i think i hated the idea that you were using me, or something.” you sprinkle some spring onions over the udon before topping it up with an egg and the tempura that osamu helped you fry earlier. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? this entire thing is a game – a bet – to boost your ego.” he’s quiet as you talk, and you sigh in both frustration and regret. “but i never hated you. and i’m sorry that you felt like i did.”

you place the bowl in front of him on the coffee table, wiping your hands on your pants awkwardly. “um, yeah… i’m gonna clean up now so… call me when you need me, i guess.”

“can you stay here?” atsumu asks suddenly, and you nod.

“sure.”

***

despite all your protests and your pleas, you, osamu, and atsumu walk into the university gym four weeks later. well, it wasn’t so much walking for atsumu as it was wheeling him through the glass sliding doors. that was your condition for him to enter the gym: for him to sit in a wheel chair while you wheel him around. sure, wheeling around a man the size of atsumu isn’t what you would consider to be fun, but the doctor did call for at least six weeks off the injury, and you weren’t about to be scolded by a medical personnel. osamu tags along with you, saying that he wanted to ‘see his brother in his misery’.

cheers and greetings from the team flood your ears, and you grin happily at all of them. of course, sakusa wastes no time in shooting sarcastic comments to atsumu, but you know that deep down he’s happy that his friend is doing okay with his injury. hinata and bokuto are beyond excited, high-fiving atsumu and telling him that they can’t wait for him to get back onto the court. meian scolds atsumu lightly for not taking care of himself, but he turns to you with a grateful smile.

you smile at the scene, standing off to the side with a few other people as you watch everyone reconnect with their ‘long lost team member’ when you notice osamu’s face fall. his expression hardens and he narrows his eyes at the door.

“osamu, what–”

one look at the gym doors is enough to make your heart fall as a tall girl stands at the entrance. it’s almost impossible to miss her – what, with her obnoxious outfit that doesn’t fit a university gym in the slightest – as she looks around the gym with a raised eyebrow. it’s only when she sees atsumu does her expression change into a ridiculous tear-stricken look, her eyebrows knitting together as her brilliant blue eyes well with tears.

“atsumu!” she cries, and everyone turns around as her high-pitched voice enters their ears.

meian blinks in confusion before turning to atsumu, whose face is now pale white before settling into a frown.

“atsumu-san, who is that?”

“tachibana reina,” osamu scowls, stepping in front of his brother protectively. “what the hell are you doing here?”

tachibana sniffs before wiping a stray tear off from her cheek. “i heard that atsumu-chan was injured so i came right away!”

you grit your teeth, moving to stand beside the onigiri-maker. “he was injured four weeks ago. if you really did care, you would have at least called earlier.”

her expression shifts in an almost comical way, an eyebrow raising at you and she speaks as if you burned her. “who are you?”

“we could ask you the same question,” sakusa spits back, lifting his mask up to cover his face as he expresses his hostility.

samson foster, the coach of msby, steps forward to meet with tachibana, and you can tell that he isn’t at all pleased. first of all, she decides to wear three-inch high heels into a gym, proceeds to jump herself onto an injured team member, and she didn’t even ask to visit from one of the team or staff members.

you crouch beside atsumu so that you can look in his eyes as you ask him, “you want to go now?”

he swallows thickly, eyes flicking to where tachibana stands, before nodding. “yeah.” he looks away from you when he says it.

“okay.”

you nod in acknowledgement to the rest of the team, osamu saying that he wanted to be with the team in hopes to diffuse the situation and in hopes of sending tachibana packing. sakusa raises an eyebrow at you and you smile reassuringly, mouthing the words, ‘i’ll text you later’, which he responds with a nod of his own.

“she has some nerve,” you comment as you drive through the freeway. “coming all the way here, i mean. she’s already done so much to hurt you and she just pops in from out of the blue?” you scoff, shaking your head as you indicate left to reach the exit. “i’ve only met her for ten seconds and i already hate her. how did you even survive dating her for as long as you did?”

he chuckles from beside you, “i guess we all make bad dating mistakes.”

“she’s the worst.” you roll your eyes, pulling up to his driveway. “you have the patience of a fucking saint.”

you help him into his apartment, quietly hoping that the issue at the gym has been diffused. you doubt it, considering the stories atsumu has told you about his lying ex-girlfriend, but you had to hope for the best.

“regardless of whether or not she actually cares for you, her actions were uncalled for.” you continue as you prop up your laptop on the coffee bench. “did you see osamu’s face?”

he laughs loudly, moving to sit closer next to you. “he has a dumb face.”

“you have the same face!” you cry out, clapping him on the shoulder. “anyway, i have an exam in a couple days, so hush.”

he shoots you another cheeky grin and you condemn the way your heart stutters in your chest.

“anything you say, princess.”

***

“welcome back,” coach foster chuckles, clapping atsumu on the back as he walks into the gym. “your ankle all good? you went to all your rehab sessions, right?”

“o’course!” atsumu grins, stumbling a little from the force of the clap. “(Y/N) wouldn’t let me skip any even if i wanted to.”

bokuto snickers, “oh yeah, your girlfriend!”

atsumu chuckles at his friends words, waving them off. “nah, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“but you like her, right?” hinata is quick to respond, wiggling his brows. “even sakusa likes her!”

atsumu’s face morphs into a betrayed one as he wails teasingly, drooping and arm over his friend. “no, omi-omi, how could you do this to me?!”

“get off.” sakusa grumbles not unkindly. “you smell.”

“oi, i showered!”

while atsumu was living his life, you were tempted to stay at home for a week while your mourned. what exactly were you mourning though? simple: the fact that you were very much gaining feelings for miya atsumu. in other words, you were wallowing in your misery. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to let him win.

“it’s really not that bad,” sakura offers, patting your head sympathetically. “i know it’s not ideal-”

“not ideal?” you demand, bringing your head up fro your pillows to glare at her. “this is, like, the worst thing that could happen!”

“i think you’re overreacting,” aneko offers from the otherside of the couch, rolling her eyes when your bury your face into the pillow in your arms again.

“i’m not overreacting,” you groan, words muffled by the pillows. you lift your head up once again and you scrunch your face in frustration. “he’s- he’s- this entire thing is a game to him! he doesn’t even like me!”

“i really doubt that,” sakura says gently, rubbing your back. “i know it might seem like he’s an asshole, but he’s a really nice person.”

aneko snorts, “i don’t think you need to tell her that.”

“i hate you both!” you complain, flopping backwards in your agitation. “he’s going to break my heart.”

your friends exchange looks before aneko pipes up once again. “maybe you should talk to him about it.”

“as if!” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “he’s just going to rub it in my face.”

sakura squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “sweetie, i really don’t think he’d do that.”

“but you don’t know if he will or not!” you let out another scream into your pillow, tears prickling your eyes. “how could i be so- so- so stupid?!”

“you’re not being stupid. it’s normal to catch feelings and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. atsumu probably feels the same way.”

you roll your eyes, “yeah, right. he thought i hated him for the longest time.”

“but you made up for it,” aneko responds without missing a beat. “you literally stayed with him almost the entire time he was healing. and now, he’s back on the court doing better than ever.”

“not to mention the fact that you guys literally hang out every single day. it’s getting kind of lonely here,” sakura teases, ruffling your hair. “look, if atsumu doesn’t like you back, that just shows how much of a dick he is and is just a red flag avoided. it’s a win-win situation. you literally cannot lose.”

“she has a point, y’know,” aneko chuckles, “no matter what happens, you’d be the winner.”

“i guess so… ugh, why does this all have to be so confusing?”

“how about you tell him how you feel during his next game,” aneko suggests, pulling out her phone. “see, look, it says that they have a game next week. why don’t you tell him then?”

you nod, jumping to your feet in determination. “i can do this.”

***

you cannot do this.

there you sit on the last day of june, coincidentally also the last game of the season, palms hot and sweaty as you ruminate on whatever you’re going to do after the game is over. atsumu is performing as well as ever – sets dangerously accurate, serves powerful and as strategic as usual – and you can’t help the way your eyes are trained on him. it’s almost as if you couldn’t avert your eyes no matter how much you wanted to. even still, your heart is pounding in your chest (not because you were invested in the game) and you had half the mind to leave the stadium. only, that wasn’t an option because atsumu already spotted you in the crowd. why did you let your dumb friends convince you to do this?

the whistle sounds, bringing your out of your thoughts and you glance at the score board. 25 - 19, in favour of the jackals. both teams were filtering out of the gym as well as the spectators in the stands and you follow suit, squeezing through the throngs of people. you toss between leaving and staying again as you navigate through the crowds – maybe you can run from your problems? – only to quite literally run into your problem.

an ugly squawk escapes your lips and you cringe internally. ‘how romantic,’ you scoff to yourself sarcastically as you rub your forehead.

“oof, sorry, princess, are you okay?” atsumu steadies you in an instant, pushing your hair back to survey the damage. “no bruises?”

you let out an airy laugh. “no harm done. congrats on your win.”

he grins, winking, “anything for you, princess.” he pauses, looking you up and down. “what are you doing here?”

“nothing!” you reply quickly, and you kick yourself internally for being awkward. “uh… nothing.”

he hums in amusement, “so you only came here for the fun of it?”

you wonder how your roommates would react if you came back to the flat still single. would it be worth leaving right now? you’re only delaying the inevitable, you hear aneko’s voice in your head and you cringe because you can imagine her saying it in that disappointed motherly voice she uses. you can imagine sakura nodding beside her, giving you a look that screamed you’re a right idiot.

“i wanted to talk to you,” you find yourself saying, wringing your hands in anxiety. “you should change first. and shower.”

he throws his head back and laughs. “yeah, i’ll see you in a bit.”

a bit passes by quicker than expected with sakusa kiyoomi leaving the changing room’s first and nodding at you in respect, followed by hinata and bokuto who grin wildly and pat you on the shoulder before meeting their respective rides (you recognise one to be kageyama tobio, the setter for another volleyball team but the other is equally as attractive with dark hair and glasses framing his blue eyes). the rest of the team emerges from the showers, chattering away and obviously pumped about their win. you hear someone – their captain? – yell about drinks to which the remaining people there agree heartily, but you feel an arm rest on your shoulder.

“sorry, guys, but i have plans with this lovely lady. maybe next time!” he grins, propping his sports bag securely on his shoulder before walking you out.

“i- wait, ‘tsumu, if you have plans-”

his smile widens at the nickname and his hand moves to rest at your waist. “i do have plans! with you!”

your cheeks burn at his words and you laugh in response. you glance at him from the corner of your eye and he seems to be at ease. his hand brushes against yours for a seconds and you swallow thickly – are you reading too much into things? a breath escapes your lips as the two of you walk around the city, the moon appearing from behind some clouds as you do. for someone who was just running around wildly on a court, atsumu was certainly energetic.

“remember this place?” he asks, moving to stand between you and the road.

you only just realise your surroundings and you chuckle once you see the all too familiar street you were currently standing on. “of course i do.”

he laughs, throwing his head back, and you think it’s one of the nicest sounds you’ve ever heard.

the towering building that holds the renowned ise sueyoshi looms over the two of you, and you can’t help but feel nostalgic. the bright lights of the building shines through the windows and you can see the pale orange light against the inky blue sky. the kanji for the building is lit up in bright yellow, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the line was still long at this time of night.

a short walk later and you’re back at aoyama bridge, the cherry blossoms blowing gently through the wind. a few other people are scattered around the bridge, mostly couples holding hands save for the odd jogger or two. the walk was short – less than ten minutes – and you’re grateful for the fresh air. you rest your arms against the rails of the bridge, enjoying the cool air against your skin. atsumu stands beside you, his back against the rails and his bag on the floor.

“i wanted to talk to you,” you say finally after long moments of silence. you glance at your watch: ten minutes to midnight.

he quirks an eyebrow, turning his head to look at you fully. “what’s up?”

a breath leaves your lips as your wring your hands nervously over the railing. you look up at him with a small smile. “i like you.”

you expect him to laugh. to gloat in your face. to point and laugh and call you stupid. or maybe to run away with his tail between his legs. you expect him to stare at you in disgust and in annoyance, to roll his eyes and spit at your feet. you don’t, however, expect him to take a step towards you and cup your face with his warm calloused hands. you don’t, as much as you hoped, expect him to press his lips to yours, holding your gently as if you were porcelain. you don’t expect him to bring you closer to his chest, burying his head into your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. but atsumu miya is full of surprises.

“i like you, too.” he mumbles, and you shiver from the way his breath brushes over the skin on your neck.

your heart is thundering in your chest and the blood rushes to your ears. “what?”

he laughs, bringing his head back up to look you in the eye. “i like you, too.”

one hand cups your cheek and the other pulls you in from your waist and he kisses you again. you pull away for air, cheeks warm and head spinning.

“yeah?”

another laugh. “of course i do, princess.” then he grins, “be my girlfriend? ya can’t say no.”

confusion enters your mind before it dawns on you. you glance at your watch – 11:59 pm. you gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find something to say.

“i guess we both lose,” you say finally, rolling your eyes after you calm down.

he chuckles, taking your hand. “i’d say we’re both winners.”

you smile at his words. “couldn’t stand my charm, could you, miya?”

“as if!” he yells, snorting. “you fell for my charms, too!”

you stick your tongue out and swing your arms. “whatever you say, sweet cheeks.”

he kisses your cheek. “i do say, princess.”

you hum, breathing in the cool night air as you walk. “what do you think, ‘tsumu? waste of a lovely night?”

“absolutely not, princess.”

quick trivia:

ise sueyoshi: a real restaurant found in tokyo, japan. a high end restaurant that specialises in traditional japanese food.

aoyama bridge: a real bridge in tokyo, japan. approximate 9 minute walk from ise sueyoshi and is actually a tourist destination.

reblogs are always appreciated!

638 notes · View notes

iwas-princess · 1 year

Note

i love love LOVE you writing sm! esp the fluffy to angst ones hehe. i really loved how you write the 'all too well' with suna rintarou. i dont wanna be that type of person, but if you can and if it's possible, can you maaaybe write a short part 2 of it? like what happens next after that huge fight and how yn decides to try again with suna? up to you honestly! would love to hear your opinion about making or reasons why you wouldn't make a part 2 about it! thank u and have a good day/night! <3

suna rintaro • all too well (taylor’s version)

the irrigated glare that you held to rintaro’s back all evening had begun to make him sweat with intimidation. every word that left your sweet lips seemed to be soaked with venom before being released and his heart was wounded with each ice cold syllable that stabbed into his chest.

he deserved it, he knew that it was a consequence to be treated like this after last week’s occurrence— but it hadn’t made your defensive behavior hurt any less.

“do you want to play some mario kart then, baby?”

suna had been on the floor of your living room, suggesting things to do together for your rainy night in, for twenty minutes now and every proposal was shot down with a grumpy ‘no’ by the princess herself. he would be lying if he told anyone that he wasn’t getting tired of your difficult attitude, because he was just on the brink of locking himself in the extra bedroom for the night at this point. but, as he always did, he put up with it to please you.

once he was met with the same effortless answer, he decided to take another route. perhaps you hadn’t wanted to play any video games tonight and he was assuming something wrong. but, he wasn’t sure what else there was to do given he had already offered nearly every source of entertainment.

with a small huff, he pushed himself off of the carpet and stood.

“i’m not sure what else to do then, baby.” he scratched his head as he racked his brain for any other ideas. “i’ve suggested everything that we do on days like these, do you have any ideas, princess?”

he was gentle, masking his frustration very well, but you knew— you knew how many shadows of anger lurked inside of him, no matter how good he hid them from you.

the reminded made your heart ache and tears threaten to burn your eyes, but you held your ground strong. you wouldn’t let him hurt you anymore, not after last time.

you agreed afterward that you were being a bit irrational about the missed date, but his words were beyond unreasonable. the cut they left ran deep and stung every time you looked at him, never failing to remind you of his true feelings.

doubt was all you felt recently whenever he did his usual generous acts for you, the old feeling of love and appreciation disappeared you once felt showed no sign of return. the only thing you could think of every time he did something as caring as opening a door for you or giving you a mindless foot rub at night, was his words. his cruel, hatful words he claimed were honest.

‘even five minutes in the same room with you can leave me so exhausted.’

‘you drain my battery’

‘you’re just so goddamn clingy all of the fucking time.’

they repeated like a mantra in your head all day, reminding you to never say too much to him or be near him longer than ten minutes before leaving the room. at first, it was difficult to stay away from him and do things yourself, but after a few long days went by, you began to learn.

you did surprisingly well at being somewhat independent, finding that time away from your boyfriend was peaceful and the extra time you put in for yourself made you feel refreshed. soon, you no longer felt the heartache that came along with distancing yourself from suna, and even longed to hermit into your room for alone time whenever he entered your space.

you loved him still, and some times found yourself aching to have everything back to the way it once was— but you knew that would never happen.

so, you decided to make the best of what the future held instead of grieving the loss of your once angelic relationship.

although, you were finally becoming happy within yourself, all you felt towards suna was anger.

pure anger for wasting your time thinking you were loved and cared for genuinely, not just to please you. he had made you think all along that he thought of you as his princess, his pretty princess that he lived to serve and couldn’t stay away from— but as it turns out, he couldn’t stand you.

so, why play nice?

“have you ever thought that maybe, i don’t want to do anything with you, rintaro?”

#suna 🌷#suna rintaro #suna x reader #suna x reader angst #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro angst #suna angst #suna rintaro x reader angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader angst

795 notes · View notes

calqlate · 10 months

Text

SUMMARY: You are the side character of someone else's fairytale and you fall in love with the male lead of her story. You think, "Can a side character get their happy ending?", and you hope you can.

PAIRING: iwaizumi hajime x gn! reader

GENRE(S): angst (with a happy ending) + pining (one-sided) + second choice syndrome

CW(S)/TW(S): coarse/foul/strong language used

WC: 4657

MASTERLIST

In all cliché love stories, there would always be a love triangle between the protagonist, the good guy, and the playboy. The protagonist would always choose the bad boy, no matter what, and the good guy would always be there as moral support. That was simply the unspoken 'rule' that posed itself as a trend in all novels.

In your life, you felt that you were definitely not the protagonist. If your life were a movie, you supposed, you would probably be one of those good-natured side characters who appeared in the film from two to four times, maybe even an extra in a story. You know, the kind chef that appeared on page sixteen of the storybook, or the dutiful store assistant who was moving boxes in the back.

Now, you might be wondering who the protagonist was. It was Sawabe Nagi: skinny, fair-skinned, and popular. She was bubbly, well-liked, and beautiful to boot; she was practically born to be the main character. Like the typical protagonist she was, she chose the bad boy, Oikawa Tooru, the dashing heartthrob of Seijoh. The good guy here was then Iwaizumi Hajime, who happened to be the playboy's best friend and childhood friend.

Before the plot was written, the good guy had a backstory with the side character. (Perhaps this story would change the course of the actual story? We would never know.)

You walked into class with your earpieces plugged in as you scrolled through your Instagram feed. As you sat down, you happened to come across a ridiculously hilarious post, something like a text post regarding your favourite band, and you tried so hard not to laugh. The pressure of holding it in was so great that as a result, you snorted out loud. Your eyes widened in surprise and you immediately clapped a hand over your mouth, hoping no one heard it. Unfortunately for you, your desk neighbour Iwaizumi Hajime had heard you, and he threw you a curious glance.

A sudden thought popped into your head: Huh, Iwaizumi really almost never smiles. Almost timidly, you decided to show him the post that had caused your earlier embarrassing outburst. Cautiously, you slid your phone over onto his desk and said, "Look at it."

The tan ravenette looked up at you from your phone, meeting your gaze. You simply tilted your head towards your phone as a response, and he raised an eyebrow at you. He still looked back down at your phone anyway, after angling the device, and looked at the post. Slowly, his lips formed the grace of smile. Shortly after, a chuckle resonated from his throat.

"Seriously, Iwaizumi, you should smile more," you commented casually, pulling your earpieces out of your ears, "It suits you."

"You think so?" Iwaizumi asked, somewhat shyly, handing your phone back to you.

You nodded, taking your phone from him, then tucking it carefully into your blazer pocket.

"I'll give you my number so you can send me more of these, then," he said.

You stopped mid-movement, then you laughed slightly. Very smooth, Iwaizumi, very smooth.

Ever since that day, the two of you would talk, laugh at ridiculous posts either one of you found on the internet or social media, eat lunch, and do usual things friends did. Slowly, through the passage of time, you realised a few small things: how you looked forward to your mini rendezvous during lunch, how you automatically lit up whenever Iwaizumi smiled, laughed, or complimented you, and how you found yourself wanting to know him inside out and as well as the back of your hand.

The final epiphany settled in: through the passage of time, you had undoubtedly fallen in love with Iwaizumi Hajime.

Your world was filled with endless joy, dizzying euphoria, and pure bliss: you would spend the rest of your remaining high school years with Iwaizumi. There was, indeed, a small part of you deep down that was afraid to come clean with him, to tell him how you really felt about him. However, you decided that it was better to keep him in the dark. You would wait for the right time to tell him everything. Your desire could wait.

That was, until he told you that he liked Sawabe Nagi — that was what burst your unknowingly fragile bubble of innocence. It was as though your ideas of your future dreamlike days with him had simply disintegrated into thin air.

However, you decided to put your friendship first before your selfish wants: you put on a brave smile, hid your sadness and slight jealousy, and wished him all the best in courting Sawabe.

You continued to hang out with him, though it pained you knowing that he never felt the same way you did. It was definitely difficult to feign smiles and speak comfortably with him. You had also once considered putting some distance between the both of you, but your better judgement convinced you otherwise as you did not want to dump your pain onto Iwaizumi like that. It would not be fair to him at all.

One day, after an afternoon of rigorous training, you walked out and was heading to the gate when you spotted someone sitting with their head low under the tree, just near the gates. The figure's silhouette was unmistakable to you; it was none other than your spiky-haired deskie.

"Iwaizumi?" you said as you approached him cautiously, watching his every movement with great focus.

"Oh, hey," he said as he glanced up to look at you, smiling slightly as if — no, definitely — trying to hide his earlier gloomy mood, "You're done with practice?"

You noticed that his characteristically mesmerising deep charcoal eyes were rather red and puffy, with dried tears on his face — a seemingly vulnerable look you never thought you would see on his being. A somewhat glassy look was in his eyes, as if he was looking into the fog, desperately searching for something far away.

You knew that you were not that something he was looking for.

"Were you crying?" you asked as you sat down next to him, eyes still on him, not daring to break away for just a breath.

He knew there was not really any point lying about it, for he knew he was easy to read, especially with you since he spent most of his time with you these days, and he nodded in response. He dropped his gaze to his hands, which were balled into fists on his thighs.

"What happened?" you asked, then added hurriedly, "If you don't mind telling me. I won't judge, I swear."

"Sawabe rejected me," he said softly as more tears formed in his eyes, the painful words getting lodged in his throat, "She... she told me she was sorry, that she... likes Oikawa instead."

"I'm... sorry to hear that," you whispered, not really knowing how you should be feeling. A part of you was overjoyed by the thought of Iwaizumi not standing a chance with Sawabe, and another part of you was disgusted at yourself for feeling this way. However, one could not stop the heart for desiring what it wanted.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to envelop him in a hug to console him. Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around you in return and gripped onto your uniform tightly, burrowing his face into your shoulder and staining his tears on your blazer. You rubbed small circles on his back to further comfort him, not knowing what else to say but let him cry his heart out and let time soften his sobs.

"It seems like no one'll fall for me," he muttered in self-hate after he could not seem to cry any longer since his throat was getting raw and his tear ducts seemed to run out of tears, then he began to dry his tears and rest his chin on your shoulder as he chuckled dryly, "Not like it's that surprising, really."

"Are you kidding me?" your outburst was incredulous, with you pulling him away from the embrace and staring at him with widened eyes and furrowed brows, "I can't believe you thought so lowly of yourself; I fell in love with you within these two months, you know!"

Once those rambling words left your mouth, you turned red, slapped a hand over your mouth, and bit your lower lip. You began to berate yourself internally, What a wonderful time you chose to confess!

An awkward silence settled between the both of you, and you decided that he was officially disturbed by your sudden (and inappropriate) confession.

"S-Sorry, I should really get going," you muttered, then mumbled a flimsy excuse and dropped your hand to your side, gathered your belongings up, and prepared to leave. You were very much ready to get home to cry, wallow in your misery, and eat a tub full of ice cream.

"Thank you," Iwaizumi said suddenly which caused you to whirl your head at him, a small yet empathetic smile tugging at his lips, "It made my day."

Suddenly, you had this strong urge in you to say something ridiculous that popped up in your head, something that you knew only worked in Korean dramas, not real-life scenarios. However, it was worth a shot, right?

"Listen, Iwaizumi," you said, choosing your words very carefully, "I know this may sound stupid and one-sided, considering how you got... you know." You waved your hand in the air vaguely, not wanting to verbalise what Iwaizumi had been through a couple of hours ago, then continued, "Anyway, I'm sure I can treat you better than her, and I'm sure I can help you get over it."

There was a moment of silence.

Have I gone too far? you thought, fiddling with your thumbs nervously, Maybe I should just tell him to forget what I just said—

His reply cut you off mid-thought, "Then let's date."

"Seriously, [F/N], if you want to look at videos of corgi butts, do so when you're not walking," Iwaizumi sighed as he sat next to the bed which you were currently sitting on in the infirmary.

You, being hooked onto this never-ending list of corgi underside videos a friend had recommended to you, decided it would be a great idea to watch them while walking towards the indoor sports hall. It just so happened you were walking down a rather steep decline while doing so, did not see that you were about to trip over a sizeable pebble, and went tumbling down the hill. Luckily, you were not too high up the hill, so you managed to not sustain any severe injuries other than a twisted ankle. You were even luckier Iwaizumi was nearby, because he had been trying to find Oikawa who seemingly vanished from his classroom ("Probably to flirt with other girls," Iwaizumi would always say with a massive eye roll).

"You really are a good boyfriend, Hajime," you said with a grin as he simply shook his head at you.

It had been about a month since both of you started dating, and you had been trying your best to help Iwaizumi get over his rejection. The first step in your relationship was to address each other by your respective first names (which was your idea). Both of you were a little bit awkward at the initial stage, but soon got over it and became a second nature to the two of you.

"[L/N]? Iwaizumi?"

The curtains separating the both of you from the next bed was swept open by the school nurse, revealing a very pale Sawabe. Her dark hair made a stark comparison to her unhealthily white complexion. To finish off the staggering look, there was a pair of eye bags circling the bottom of her eyes.

Iwaizumi froze in place, like a deer caught in headlights. You immediately noticed this and contemplated whether you should reach over and squeeze his hand gently as a form of reassurance. After all, his hand was now (fortunately) close to yours.

"I guessed it was you guys judging from your voices," Sawabe added with a little laugh (even though no one really asked her).

You did not take the chance and your hand remained glued to your side. Iwaizumi's hand was now drawn back to his side as he stood up.

"Sawabe? What happened to you?" Iwaizumi asked, walking up to her, an even more concerned expression taking over his face compared to the one he had given you, "Where's Trashikawa?"

"Tooru said he was busy and couldn't come, because he said he had some extra volleyball practice he wanted to put in," the brunette replied, "As for me, it isn't anything serious. Just a couple of things went wrong. I'm fine now."

You averted your gaze from the pair, clenching your hands into fists. You knew it was fine for Iwaizumi got get worried over sawabe since they were friends, but you could not help yourself and felt jealous. The way they conversed sounded as though they were dating, which seemed like a punch to your gut.

This also seemed to further highlight your incompetence in the whole point you and Iwaizumi were dating in the first place. Iwaizumi still seemed to hold a special place for his former love after all.

You then knew, I can't hold a candle to Sawabe.

Slowly, you slipped off the bed and limped to the doorway as quickly and quietly as you possibly could. You wanted to leave while you still had some control over your emotions, before it was too late and you started crying and made both a scene and a fool out of yourself.

Iwaizumi never noticed your disappearance, and you never felt your heart ache so badly before.

After practice, you switched your phone on to see a few messages from Iwaizumi. Earlier, you had turned it off after you fled the scene in the infirmary, not wanting to hear anything from Iwaizumi or anyone, really. Since you had busted your ankle, you could not take part in track activities, so you sat by the bleachers and finished up some of your biology homework. In the end, the coach told you to go home and get some rest.

Tentatively, your thumb hovered over his name in your inbox before you finally decided to read his messages.

Hajime: Are you at practice now?

Hajime: Why did you leave so suddenly?

Hajime: I'm sorry, I won't be walking home with you today. I have to walk Sawabe home since Trashikawa is still practicing and no one's home to fetch her.

Hajime: Text me when you get home, okay?

Kissing your teeth, sighing inwardly, and not wanting to answer, you put on some music and shoved your phone into your blazer pocket. Subconsciously, you knew Iwaizumi would still be worried over Sawabe. Your heart twisted in jealousy at this.

When you arrived home, you decided to switch your phone to aeroplane mode to refrain from any distractions while you were revising. The first exam was coming in a month's time; you could not afford to relax. You put on your Spotify playlist meant for effective studying and locked yourself in your room for a solid hour.

After a good hour of revision, you checked the time on the digital clock which stood on your table: 6.45 pm.

The thoughts of Iwaizumi walking Sawabe back home flooded your mind. Did he really move on, or does he still have something for her? Your eyebrows furrowed as your brain spiraled further into confusing thoughts, everything getting tangled in a chaos.

Not wanting to waste any time thinking about it, you buried your face into your arms as you crossed them on your desk, closing your eyes and willing yourself to stop worrying. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.

Knock knock. Knock knock.

The sound of gentle knocking woke you right up. Rubbing your eyes and blinking, you caught sight of someone at your window, fist to your window panels. You squinted at the rather well-built figure hovering by your window before your eyes widened in recognition.

Iwaizumi?

Quickly, you rushed over (all while limping) and opened the window to let him in. Panic filled your veins as you opened the grilles.

"What are you doing? This is the second floor!" you berated him as he tumbled inside and onto your bedroom floor, "Why didn't you use the front door like a normal human being?"

"N-No one answered when I rang the doorbell, so I decided to climb up instead," he answered, and you noticed he sounded out of breath.

"Why are you breathless?" you asked, "Did you run over or something?"

"Yeah, I ran here since I got worried about you," he answered as he tried to catch his breath after sitting up, watching you carefully, "You left my texts on read and didn't read any of my new ones."

You just let out a soft sigh and said, "Come on, let's go downstairs and I'll get you something to eat."

Iwaizumi helped you down the steps (since you were injured, after all) and to the living room and was told to sit down, only he refused, because he pointed out you were still limping. You did not bother to argue with him and let him follow you.

The two of you then headed to the kitchen to get some biscuits and two glasses of milk, which Iwaizumi insisted on carrying. Both of you headed back to the living room with your snacks and sat comfortably on the sofa, with Iwaizumi balancing the plate of biscuits on his thighs.

After a few moments of hearing the sounds of crunching biscuits, he said, "Hey, let's play a game."

"Alright, fine," you said, reaching for another biscuit, "What do you have in mind?"

"Truth or dare," Iwaizumi replied simply, chewing his biscuit thoughtfully, "Now, truth or dare?"

"Truth," you answered without hesitation, popping the biscuit into your mouth.

"What do you think of our relationship?" he asked, then pointing between both of you, "You know, us."

There was a short moment of deafening silence (not even the prior sounds of biscuit chewing was heard) before you answered with a defeated look in your eyes, "There was never an 'us'."

He raised his eyebrows in curiosity, What do you mean?

"I love you," you proclaimed suddenly, turning your head to meet his gaze heads-on in determination.

No response. He just could not bring himself to say it. The words were lodged in his throat, being barricaded by an unknown force from escaping his lips, which were tightly shut. This silence confirmed your suspicions; this silence was as loud as a lion's deafening roar, an obvious statement of impending heartbreak and goodbyes.

"See?" you said softly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and you immediately looked away, "That's exactly what i mean."

Quickly, you wiped your tears away, put on your best smile, and said, "Okay, your turn. Truth or dare?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the sound of his phone ringing cut him off.

"Sorry," he mouthed as he took his phone out of his trouser pocket and glanced at the caller ID (he looked somewhat scared, but of what?), then answering, "Hello?"

"Iwaizumi? Could you come back to keep me company?" Sawabe's voice was unmistakable from the other line, causing you to further shrink down in your seat, "I'm kinda afraid of being alone."

"I'm coming over," he answered without missing a beat before ending the call.

You whirled your head over and looked into his eyes, yours full of hurt and sorrow. Though you knew he had probably never genuinely loved you like a true lover from the start, you never expected him to ditch you for someone else, that someone being the previous apple of his eye.

Though, could Sawabe still be counted as 'previous'? Iwaizumi cared about her; he clearly still had her as his number one priority, it seemed.

Your head started to spin with wild thoughts as you watched him place the plate of remaining biscuits on the table: Was he really going to her? did he never get over her? Did he ever see me as his significant other?

"I'm sorry, [F/N]. I really am," Iwaizumi said, a look of sorrow and regrets gracing his face (the very face you came to love), before giving a slight bow and exiting the house.

You sat there, eyes hollow, head silent, heart broken. You did not know what else to think. The only thing you knew was that you were tired. You were tired of chasing someone who had another goal in their eyes. You were tired of trying to be the missing puzzle piece in someone else's life. You were tired of illusionising yourself that the one you truly loved reciprocated your feelings.

In the end, the joke was on you. You were left alone with nothing else, just you and your broken heart that had been shattered into tiny shards that lay around your feet.

In cliché romance movies, the protagonist gets into a messy love triangle and falls in love with the bad boy.

And in this film, you were just a side character who liked the good guy, but never had your love acknowledged.

You walked into class with your earpieces plugged in, muting the unpleasant world that surrounded you. Life still went on even though bad things happen, but you can still angrily say "Fuck you" to the world who bestowed empty promises upon you and wallow in self-pity.

In all retrospect, you had been thinking about how your relationship between you and Iwaizumi had been, and by judging the latest (dramatic) turn of events, it was not going to get far in the long run.

Once you placed your books and materials on your desk, you could hear a muted voice saying through your earpieces, "Good morning."

Though it was faint through the loud dance music you were playing, you still knew the voice's owner. After all, it was the voice you had come to love, too.

"H — Iwaizumi," you said simply as you took out your earpiece, cursing yourself mentally for the slip of your tongue. (You cringed inwardly at your second action following your response; you probably looked way too excited when you heard him call out to you. Bad habits were indeed hard to break.)

"I-I'm really sorry about yesterday," Iwaizumi muttered, looking down at the floor with his hands shoved in his pockets, not daring to meet your gaze on him that you were actually imposing yourself to do.

Without saying a word, you grabbed his hand and led him out of the classroom. Class was not going to start until another thirty minutes or so, anyway. You had more pressing matters at hand to discuss with him rather than something that was going to be forgotten in a few years.

You swiftly pushed past the hordes of students who were either gossiping about Oikawa, talking about a weekend party, or some other useless junk, bringing him to the school rooftop.

The school rooftop seemed like a secret haven: free of students' chatter, free of judgement, free of suffocating criticism.

You let go of him and walked a few steps forward, your back faced towards him.

"Are... you okay?" he asked tentatively. You had never behaved like this before, so this was completely new for him.

Without turning around, you said, "I've been thinking a lot since last night."

You turned around and looked into his eyes, hoping that what you were doing was right. You did not want to say it (you never would if you had the option to), but you wanted to spare yourself from the torture and did not want yourself to do this any longer. After all, it proved that your attempts to get him to move on failed. Love can be such a powerful force.

"Let's break up," you said simply, trying to keep your gaze levelled and not let your emotions take control and ruin this any further.

"What?" Iwaizumi coughed out with widened eyes, a little dumbfounded by this twist of events. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect you to break up with him. After all, you were the one who asked to date in the first place.

"This relationship is one-sided, and it's going nowhere," you stated, "So there's really no point continuing it. It's hurting both of us. Besides, it seems like I didn't help you get over her."

You took a quick and deep breath and continued, "It isn't good for any of us. so, let's break up and spare one another."

Feeling tears sting your eyes, you quickly strode past him, not wanting to let him see you break down. You willed yourself not to cry until you made it past that door back into the campus. It was going so well, too, so why—

Suddenly, you felt a warm and larger hand take hold of your wrist. The same hand pulled you back into someone's arms. It was Iwaizumi, of course, bringing you into his embrace, just like how you had done for him when you found him near the school gates being upset over Sawabe's reveal of her true feelings a month ago.

"You did help me," he said gently, "You're very special to me, and you've brightened my life. You've made me see the world in a different light, a different perspective, and for that, I want to thank you."

That was not exactly what you wanted to hear, but it still made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Before you knew it, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso and you leaned further in, your head pressing into his chest and you could hear his steady heartbeat resembling a siren song.

"If you would give me a second chance, I will tell you those three words one day," Iwaizumi said, with sincerity embedded in his words.

"So you're going to force yourself to love me?" you asked, breaking the embrace and looking up at him with a somewhat offended look, "Because I don't want you to. It's not right to the both of us."

"I'm not," he answered quickly, then explained, "I'm unsure of my feelings as of now, but if you would give me a second chance..."

He reached for your hand, encased it within his larger one, and continued with sincerity in his eyes, "I'm sure I won't hurt you again."

You bit your lip as your heart struggled to make a decision. The rational part of you wanted to refuse and say no, to put an end to this tragic tale. However, the lovesick fool in you convinced you otherwise. A second chance would not hurt anybody, and maybe there would come a day where Iwaizumi would really say those three words you longed to hear with a sincere heart.

"Alright," you stepped forward and squeezed his hands, "I'll wait for you."

"Thank you," he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into the crook of your neck, warmth spreading throughout his body. Moving on will be difficult, but for you, he was willing to do it and free himself from Sawabe's grasp.

In all cliché romance films, the protagonist gets into a love triangle and chooses the bad boy. The good guy supports them and thinks he is unloved, when there is a minor side character wanting and waiting to be with him, for him to extend his hand and accept their love, but never getting their happy ending.

It seems like, in this romance movie, the side character does get their own happily ever after after all.

298 notes · View notes

pengujoon · 10 months

Text

A HOPELESS DEVOTION

content: oikawa x reader, iwaizumi is their best friend. angst, hurt/no comfort. none at all. cw: suicide. (not elaborated in detail but some descriptions may be triggering). oikawa and reader were best friends before things went south.

a/n: of course this was written by me when i'm almost drunk and realising that i have a crush on my friend for 4 years but knowing that he doesn't see me like that i was feeling sad and thus this story was created. as such, enjoy.

part i

Everyone in Aoba Johsai knew that there was an inseparable pair of best friends, and it was none other than you and Oikawa.

Even after Oikawa was ostracised by his teammates of the volleyball team, you stood by him and gave him all the help you could’ve possibly gave. Even after his fangirls physically abused you to the point of hospitalisation, you still stood by him.

Even after all these troubles you’ve gone through, no one could understand why you were so resilient on being Oikawa’s best friend - other than you yourself, of course. Who could’ve possibly known that you’d develop a crush on the volleyball captain since an impossibly long time ago?

This very thought was ruled out a long time ago, with the fact that you had a boyfriend when you stayed by Oikawa’s side when his closest friends left him. Apparently that was enough proof to your very own group of haters that you didn’t see Oikawa that way.

They couldn’t have possibly known that the boyfriend that you had was just a façade you convinced a random classmate of yours to put up with to get away from their beatings, could they?

Shaking your head, you glanced at the empty cup in your hands.

You came to this party with one goal in mind: to confess to him before he left for Argentina.

Deep down you knew that it wasn’t the right place and time to confess; being in a party with the noisiest crowd and everybody being all drunk and high on different substances just made the setting way worse than you’d expect a confession to take place in.

But you knew that you could blame this on the alcohol if you confessed. It was basically the April Fools Privilege. You could easily get away with it and claim it as your drunk self talking. Maybe even a sleep talk?

You came back from the open rooftop and headed down towards the kitchen to grab yourself a cup of water to clear your mind. However as you stepped onto the last few steps of the stairs, you knew that the very person that you were about to confess to was right in the kitchen with someone else, seemingly to be discussing highly confidential information with the way they whispered cautiously as though to protect their words from peering ears.

You decided to stay by the stairs and lean against the wall to hear them properly; thank goodness they stood rather close to the entryway, but not close enough to actually see the outline of your figure. Your current location was pristine, to be frank; you figured out that even if they left the kitchen towards the living room, they wouldn’t even have noticed your very presence, and thus you stood by there trying to piece together bits and pieces of the conversation that you could hear.

Initially, it wasn’t anything much as far as you were concerned: it seemed like they were discussing the party and how well it went, but you suddenly heard your name in the conversation, bringing your attentiveness up to another level.

What could they even be talking to need to saying my name? You thought to yourself, looking upwards to the ceiling with hopes that it’ll be something good.

Out of all the possible topics that you thought they could be discussing of, you definitely did not expect that the very centre of the topic was you. You’d thought that maybe it was about school in general, and talking about the friends he had. Or maybe even his heartfelt emotions towards you?

“What do you think of your best friend? You know, the one that always follow you around no matter where you go.”

“Oh,” you heard him say, “that person.”

Although no names were mentioned, you knew very well that he was referring to you. After all, who would have the guts to follow the famous captain of the volleyball team around like a hopeless puppy?

But with such distaste over mentioning you?

“I hate them.”

To say that your heart broke was an understatement: god, no words could describe the heartbreak you felt at that moment. Was it anguish? Grief? Sorrow? You couldn’t even tell what you were feeling right there and then.

At that very moment, you have never wanted to run away this badly from a situation in your entire life before. Your rationality screamed at you to run, to leave this hell; but it was as though your body rooted itself to the ground judging by the way you stood as still as a statue.

Maybe he was just saying it to pretend to be cool? you thought, knuckles turning ghostly white from the sheer force of you holding the railing, as though it was the only thing that grounded you to reality. That it's not a dream.

But deep down, you knew very well that it was a lie. There was literally no one in the kitchen. No one - just them both.

No one was even in the same room with them.

There was no point for him to lie.

You knew that he wasn’t drunk, given the way he articulated his words smoothly.

But soon you realised: did you even know him? Did he ever trust you enough for you to see him in a drunken state even after being ‘friends’ for more than half a decade? Did he even bother to talk to you if it wasn’t for you initiating the conversation every time?

“God, imagine how tired I am having to deal with my ‘best friend’.” His mocking tone reached your ears, tearing your already broken heart into a million pieces more.

“Imagine having to be nice to the person or else your reputation will be broken. Imagine having to act like you like someone for years.” He took a breath.

“I should get an Oscar’s award for my acting skills, don’t you think?”

The way they both burst out laughing after he finished that very sentence made your eyes water. Your knees felt weak, it was as though you could fall to the ground any moment were it not for your arms holding you up as it held tightly against the railing of the stairs.

How badly you wanted to believe this was all fake - it was just a dream! A hallucination! Maybe you drank too much. That’s it! It must be the alcohol playing with your ears and mind!

But no matter how hard you try to lie to yourself, you knew it was undeniably the truth. You’ve guessed it from the very start: he hated you with every fibre of his being. He never wanted to be your best friend in the first place.

Ok, maybe he did.

Or maybe not.

Maybe he just wanted someone who he could toy with, who he could tease just for the sake of passing time. Who else could he do such things to? You were the only one that stuck to him mindlessly even after others left him.

You were stupidly in love and available.

It was just as simple as that.

You couldn’t even remember anything else that happened after that - everything was a blur.

And that’s why you never knew how you ended up back at the open rooftop, sitting by the very edge, your legs dangling off the building held back by nothing.

Supposedly - unless they both knew that you were standing by the door - no one could’ve possibly known why your body laid lifeless by the pavement, bloodied with body matters scattered all over from the sheer force of your falling body hitting the concrete ground. There was no explanation for your sudden death.

Right?

a little bit of my mental illness took over me so the ending was not something i could control. but ngl i thought the ending was executed really well and i was genuinely surprised when i finished the story. i'm posting it now because i'm almost drunk (as mentioned) and i have no idea if i'm doing anything right atm. but i want to be productive.

#no idea if this story makes sense bc i was feeling sad and wanted angst but there wasn't much that i liked so i made my own. slay.#haikyuu angst #oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu oneshot #penguwrites #haikyuu hurt/no comfort #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x suicidal!reader

175 notes · View notes

omiomi-kyun · 4 months

Text

00:07 — unrequited

note: my mind's a bit messy atm. so, uh... yep.

details: angst; iwaizumi x reader; fantasy au; unrequited love; drabble :)

"we grew up together. i always have seen you more like a sibling than anything else."

you were rooted in place as soon as those words left his lips. everyone, including you, believed that you'll eventually be with him. your father and even your brother approved of your potential relationship with him.

he was even smiling during those discussions! so... what exactly is happening right now?

“please, accept my sicerest apologies if i made you misunderstood my feelings towards you. i apologize if i ever lead you on, but...” he sighed. “i already have someone in heart... and you can never replace her.”

“o-oh...” you replied, covering your lips as you let out a chuckle. “is that... is that so?”

tears began streaming down your cheeks. you tried to keep them from coming, but not even your gloved hand, nor the handkerchief could stop it.

“why am i like this? i... i'm happy for you! i'm truly happy for you but why... i need to smile...” you began to ramble like a madman.

iwaizumi stood in front of you, looking helpless as he could neither pull you close to him, nor console you with words. not when he's the reason behind your tear-stained cheeks.

“please call greta for me,” you told him with shaky voice. “she... she'll know what to do...”

his guilt tripled after hearing the name of your lady-in-waiting: the person who owns his affection from the first time they met—someone you trust.

“hajime?”

he took a breath before bowing his head deeply.

you stood there in confusion. until you recalled what you've said moments ago.

“oh... haha... hahaha!” your cackle echoed the empty hallway. he watched as you walk away from him.

“your highness...”

“you're dismissed.”

“your—”

“be well, young lord.”

his body stiffened before lowering his head towards your direction. “understood.”

not long after, a war broke out. leaving the castle in shambles and the long history of your family's bloodline was eradicated from the face of the kingdom.

or so they thought.

#haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu angst #hq!! angst #hq angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu!! x reader angst #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!! x reader angst #hq x reader #hq x reader angst #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst #prazia: angst

102 notes · View notes

tooruslove · 2 years

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

you always believed that the worst feeling someone could experience, was betrayal.

so when you entered the party just to see your boyfriends hands wrapped around another girls waist and both their lips interlocked with each other, sloppily kissing, time stopped for you.

you felt dizzy. a familiar yet sickening feeling began to make itself at home in your stomach and your breathing became more erratic. the feeling of dread and nausea overtook you.

and the moment his eyes inevitably met your teary ones, time stopped for him too.

you couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for you to forgive him; how long you would be able to resist running back to him. just like last time you caught him.

— OIKAWA. kaminari. kuroo. TERUSHIMA. eren.

989 notes · View notes

peachy-hk · 2 years

Text

Time.

Miya Osamu x Reader, angst.

Warnings: cheating, gn reader, timeskip spoilers!

in which time is lost, discarded, and unable to be returned.

Word Count: 1.4K

read the second part here!

What is time? Why do some people value it so much, while others seem to make it the bane of their existence?

“Time is the continued sequence of existence and events that occurs in an apparently irreversible succession from the past, present, or future.”

You know that time is irreversible. That you couldn’t turn back the hands on the clock and go back to before you met him. But, why did you want to do it so badly?

Finding out your husband cheated on you is one thing. Finding out because you overheard some part timers in the back talking about it, is another. Maybe you should have seen it coming. A new, cute, and young, employee. What were you supposed to expect? Obviously men get bored after a couple years of marriage and he wanted something new. “She told me that she slept with him at a hotel last week. She has pictures with him in the room and everything.” As you count the money left in the register at the end of the day, you overhear the conversation between two of the newer employees who are supposed to be cleaning the kitchen behind you. “No way,” the other responds in shock, “Isn’t he married to the person in the front right now?”

Everything gets worse and worse as you continue listening to the two workers gossip. By the time they walk back to the front of the store, it’s too late for them to realize that they were speaking way too loud. The way you looked at them was bone chilling, traumatizing even. The two quickly bowed to you, said a barely audible “good night miya san”, and hurried to gather their things and leave. “Miya san” a surname you were previously proud to have, that now leaves a worse than bitter taste on your tongue. You finish the last of the things you had to do and close the restaurant. Ironic how the restaurant is also named “Onigiri Miya”, the bitter feeling worsens as you push and twist your key into the lock, and the doors snap shut; you have to go home to him now. Just to stall, you test the doors to make sure they’re locked. Maybe you can stall for longer, waste some time to avoid the confrontation you’re about to have with your husband of four years. How long could you possibly stay out before he calls you worried that you’re later than usual? You estimate that you have around 20 extra minutes to waste before you deal with the shitshow that’s going to happen in your home. You get into your car and look at the store from outside the window. It’s only around 7pm, but everyone closes early on Sundays. There are pedestrians walking down the street, trying to find places to eat that haven’t closed up yet. It’s light enough outside for you to see into the store windows. “This is it! I’m going to be a restaurant owner!” Osamu exclaims. There are stars in his eyes as he looks at the empty, beat up restaurant. Four years ago he proposed to you in the empty restaurant. He told you that all of his life’s dreams came true that day. Right after you said yes. It’s crazy how time can change things. You never would have imagined that after four years you’d be ready to leave this life, leave the restaurant, leave the future you had built with him. But now that years have passed, and times have changed, the unimaginable is becoming reality.

As you walk into your home with him, you feel so different - you feel so out of place. Even though this has been your home for years, nothing feels the same. You wonder if it had been happening in your home and you were just too happy to realize. Maybe living life with the rose coloured glasses of love had masked what was really going on.

Osamu is sitting on the couch when you walk in. You’re greeted with “Welcome home honey, how was the store today?”

You stop in front of your kitchen sink, washing off the germs from everything outside today. Washing your hands frequently had become a habit after working at Onigiri Miya for so long. While you’re scrubbing you try to think of a way to respond to him. Do you tell him what you overheard from the part timers? Do you lie and wait for him to tell you on his own? Either way, you’re going to get hurt.

No tears come out as you decide to confront him about what you heard. “I overheard some part timers gossiping today,” you start, gaining an “mhm” from him, prompting you to continue, “they said that you slept with one of the new part timers”.

The way the smile on his face drops makes your heart crack a little more in your chest. You hoped he would reassure you, tell you that the part timer was just saying it for attention, but he doesn’t. It’s more than enough of an answer.

You trudge into your shared bedroom after drying your hands, and grab your emergency suitcase from the back of your walk in closet. You and Osamu both have one packed at all times in case of a family or business emergency.

You hear Osamu get up off the couch, for a second you wonder if he’s coming to explain himself, but his footsteps turn in the direction of the back door. You hear him make a call.

As he’s talking on the phone -quite angrily, you think to yourself- you carry your small suitcase to your front door, throwing your coat back on and stuffing your keys into your pocket before sitting down to put your shoes back on. Osamu’s eyes go wide as he watches you do these things, and he rushes towards you, disregarding his phone call.

“Baby please hear me out. It was a mistake. I didn’t want it to happen” he begins pleading with you, kneeling in front of you as his eyes gloss over. “If it happened it wasn’t a mistake, Osamu.” You look back at him sternly, watching his expression change from desperate to hurt, then to confused. “So what, you’re just going to pack up and leave? What about me? What about us?” He sits down, with his back against the wall, he runs his hand through his hair, you watch as the silver band that you picked out as his wedding ring shines lightly through the locks of his hair. “You chose to let me pack up and leave the second you entered the hotel with that girl. I loved you so much, and I thought I was enough for you, but you threw it all away with her ‘Samu”. You grab his left hand and hold it between your own two, noticing the temperature difference between his fingers and the cool silver ring.

“It won’t happen again, please don’t go. I love you so much. If I could turn back time, I wouldn’t do it. Stay, please?” you listen to his voice crack as he says please. Part of you wants to give into him, to pull him into a hug, and tell him that you forgive him, that you’ll stay and work things out with him. But you can’t, this isn’t the first time you’ve been cheated on and you know that it will happen again.

“You can’t turn back time though ‘Samu,” you start, your voice is gentle as you stare at the leather watch on your wrist. “It’s not like you can turn back the clock and give me back all the years we spent together. All the mornings, all the dinners, all the dates. You just can’t do that. Trust me, if we could do that, I would have already asked you to do it, to think about me before you walked into the hotel with that girl, but I can’t”. You can’t bring yourself look at him, as you know that if you see him crying, you’ll start crying too.

You stand, pulling him to sit on the stool that you were previously sitting on, even though it was a tense situation, you still knew that his body would start to hurt if he sat there for much longer. You lean in and give him one final kiss on the forehead.

An unspoken goodbye. A seal of your once affection for him, that will be no longer.

“Thank you, Osamu. The past few years of my life have been amazing, and I’ve made so many memories with you that I will never forget. But, it’s my time to go, and we both know it.” You slide off your wedding ring, and place it into his palm, pressing his hands shut around it.

“Maybe in another timeline, our lives would have played out differently.”

And just like that, you walk out of Miya Osamu’s life.

Creak.

Swing.

Click.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst #miya osumu #osamu angst #miya osamu angst #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst

1K notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 2 months

Note

angst, you say?

Like, I am sorry to inform you, but when you and Osamu break up, he can no longer see or make or think about your favorite foods.

Your favorite Onigiri? Not on the menu anymore.

It’s a bizarre recipe too. One he made for you by accident, one you insisted on trying while he was testing new flavor combinations. It was a pain to make, hard to replicate, but for you, he’d do anything, absolutely anything to make you smile.

Now that you’re gone, he saves himself to consistent heartache in making it, taking it off the menu in hopes to combat the sight of you, pleading him to make it, jutting your lip out and clasping your fingers together while he looks you up and down in amusement. Now that you’re gone, he saves himself the trouble of tears stinging his eyes of the memories swirling in his head of you, sitting on the counter as he makes it at home, sneaking bites of rice from him when he’s turned around, only to act like you never did it.

It was on the menu for years. Only one person ordered it consistently. You.

So it’s completely normal why he bites his thumb nail as this damn seven year old, seemingly fresh out of a dance recital comes in, hands and chin hooked on the counter as her mother orders food, asking about her favorite onigiri no longer being served.

“Sorry, Miss, we haven’t had that on the menu in months-“

“But you’ve gotta make it!” She pouts. “I always get it after my dance recitals! It’s my favorite…”

“Yumei, don’t be rude!” Her mother scolds.

Osamu takes a deep breath in and rolls his shoulders, smiling softly at the young girl.

“Maybe I can whip one up. Just for you.” He leans slightly over the register, “but don’t tell anyone, okay?”

She gasps excitedly and bounces on the balls of her feet, squeaking out a “thanks, mister!” as her mother pays.

It kills him as he puts the order into the system for the cooks to make. It kills him as the cooks look at him like he’s got five heads, “we uh… we don’t know how to make this, Miya.”

“That’s alright,” he chokes, swallowing thickly. “Just watch the register.

“I’ll take care of it.”

917 notes · View notes

chimielie · 2 years

Text

bitter ain't sweet

summary: Suna x F!Reader. a college fairytale in reverse

word count: 2.8k

cw: angst to fluff, [kuroo voice] stupid young people, hypothetical discussion of throwing up towards the end

a/n: one night i was so so miserable bc i just know suna is out there falling stupid in love with girls who don’t care about him and this was born

"Aren't you tired?" You say, amused, as a twenty-one-year-old Suna Rintarō stretches out his legs over the arm of your couch, his head resting in your lap.

"Nah," he shakes his head, his eyelids dropping shut and his muscles going limp when you thread your fingers through his hair. "I'm staying on that grind."

"Oh, aren’t you," you snort. He reaches up to flick your face, eyes still closed, and settles for waving his hand vaguely around in search of your face about five inches below it.

"Vulgar," he says. "Who's teaching you these things?"

"You."

"Ah. You shouldn't let me do that."

"Do what?" You cease petting his hair, and he wriggles petulantly upward, searching for your hand. You give in too easily and resume.

"Corrupt you," he says, all too happily. "Anyway, like I was saying, I can't decide where I should take her out Saturday."

With the subject change, you let your mind wander away from the man at hand. You pull your hands away from him, the only contact between the two of you the weight of his head in your lap, pressing against your stomach. He doesn't notice, too engrossed in parsing out his latest romantic encounter with his latest romantic interest.

You sigh and tip your head back as far as it can go. Oh, Rintarō. You've been long since corrupted, ruined for all men by one who falls asleep in his classes and passes them all anyway, who has a beautiful singing voice only so long as he's wasted, who takes you to movies and taught you to wait in the bathroom to watch a second one for free, whose glowing eyes see everything but you.

Rintarō doesn't have a type.

Sometimes she's tall, sometimes she's short, always she's enamored by him. He never really gets to know her that well before it's over.

He likes—adventure, likes flirting and fucking around, likes it when she does something he doesn't expect. Eventually, though, something has to shift. It can't be late-night driving and hot tub hickeys forever, as much as he wishes he could stay steady in the stream of change.

Sometimes he ends things. Sometimes she does. He's never really that cut up about it.

And there's always another girl.

Rintarō doesn’t want to break hearts; he’s not playing the dating field like it’s some kind of game. It’s just never... quite... right.

You’re right (and he knows you know it). He’s tired. He wants a cinematic story with a happy ending, in his own way, without frills or saccharine sweetness. He wants someone he won’t get tired of, someone who doesn’t idolize him, someone to love. Hands cold and blood pooling in his cheeks, Rintarō just wants.

You’re Rintarō’s best friend, one of his favorite people in the world; you make everything easy. Of course he’s sitting next to you, shoving popcorn in his mouth and staring at his television, when he figures it out.

“Your friend,” he says suddenly, interrupting the sopping, dramatic monologue of the man onscreen. “Your, ah, roommate.”

“What?” You glare at him, the tension of the scene broken.

“Is she single?”

Your expression shutters off. He’s never not been able to read your thoughts on your face. It’s disturbing. He’s not sure what he did wrong—his words, interrupting the movie, discussing her—but he wants to take it back.

“Yeah, she is.” You cock your head, still inviting an explanation. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop his momentum.

“Would you—do you think, uh—”

“She does hate you,” you say, dry to his ears. She hates him because she’s the one who checks in on you while he’s out, who watches you insist over and over again that you’re over him, who lets you lean on her when it all inevitably happens again. To Rintarō’s knowledge, she’s just a little ornery, someone who will fight for what she wants, someone whose next move he’ll never guess. “That might be a problem.”

“I’ll figure it out,” he waves it away, infuriatingly confident in his own subtle magnetism. “But only with your permission.”

“My permission.” You echo, sounding faraway. He’s handing you a big, round, waxy red apple here; watching your turmoil with serpentine eyes. Rintarō leans forward, takes one of your hands between both of his. The movie is long forgotten.

“Yeah. You’re my friend, and she’s yours. I don’t want to move forward with anything if it’ll make things weird between us.”

“Why would it make things weird between us?” You say, and he doesn’t have an answer, just a gut feeling. “Do what you want, Rintarō, don’t bother with what I think.”

“But I care what you think,” he says. “You’re right. Fucking around isn’t enough for me, anymore, you were right when you said I go after women I don’t really like. But I like her,” he says your name, and your heart feels overworked and suddenly you’re just exhausted. “I really do. I think I always have.”

You jerk your hand out of his. He jumps at the moment, at the outright fury that breaks over your face. His hands feel cold, again.

“If you care so much about what I think, then don’t,” you say, more bitterly than you want to. “Don’t ask her out, don’t try to convince her she’s the one. Don’t jump ship from dating women you don’t like to dating women who don’t like you.” You let out a broken laugh, and he’s not sure exactly where this is going but he’s sure it’s too late to salvage. “For the love of—do something good for yourself, Rintarō.”

You storm out, the blood rushing in your ears deafening his pleading, his desperate questions. He catches your wrist, and you look back at him with something awful in your face. The line between love and hate is thin. Your last words hang in the air like thunder rolling behind your lightning, and the echo sounds a lot like stop being selfish, Rintarō.

The door catches before it shuts, and Rintarō can’t bring himself to close it, ‘cause maybe you’ll come back. He sits down next to the opening and scrubs his hands over his face, through the strands of his hair. His head hurts. He feels sick. He fucked up.

You’re Rintarō’s literal girl next door, or you were, his freshman year in the dorms. Your assigned roommate was never home, and his was always kicking him out. He found a comfortable spot as the shade to your sunny disposition, spending countless afternoons dragging you outside to laze around on the green or pulling you out of the library to stock up on more poisonous energy drinks.

He’s selfish; he’s not stupid.

He's spent too many days almost lying across your dining table while you don an apron over your hoodie and shorts, whipping together incredible concoctions from a cookbook. He can't cook worth shit, but he loves to watch you do it, phone lifted in front of his face but eyes trained on you. He heckles you as you go. What do stiff peaks mean? That's dirty. I'm not eating this if the souffle comes out flat. How many syllables are in ratatouille, honey?

Every time, he says it's his favorite food in the world, right around the time you slide him a portion, because he knows he's an ass and he's sorry about it. And because you're amazing.

He knew that, too.

You have standards too high to ever want anything to do with him like that, know him too well to imagine that he could treat you like you deserve to be. At his bravest moments, he imagines that if he could prove to himself he could do it with another girl, one not as important as you, he could convince himself he could touch you without breaking.

At his most cowardly, he asks for favors you can't give.

Your laugh, that raw sound filled with anything but mirth, plays over in his mind and it feels like it’s sanding him down, tearing him into pieces. If Rintarō has nothing else going for him, he can make you laugh; he can bring the light into his sunshine girl’s face. It feels like he’s ruined that, too.

The ring of your doorbell is like a death knell. Once upon a time, when boys like Rintarō fucked over princesses like you, they would have been executed for their dishonor. Maybe he’ll go back to Hyōgo and ask Kita to bring back the old days.

There’s a scuffle behind the door; muffled words that he can’t understand.

“You shouldn’t!” He can hear your roommate say, frustrated and protective, and it hurts to think that she’s protecting you from him. He curls in on himself (further), wonders what he looks like in the fish-eye view of your door’s peephole. The stems of the flowers he’s holding crinkle in his grip.

Shit shit fuck you fucker, he thinks at himself.

The door opens a crack, and your eyes appear above the lock.

“What do you want,” calls your roommate, and his view of you disappears.

“Can you let me—” the sentence is aborted, but Rintarō can imagine your combination of hand gestures and mouthed words.

“Okay, okay,” she calls, and he’s more than a little relieved that she seems to be getting further away. He almost feels bad for it, too.

Mostly, though, all of his energy is focused towards feeling guilty about you. You pop the door open, leaning on it, and there’s not a smile on your face when you face him, just shadowy eyes and chapped lips.

“Hi,” you open the door for him, flannel pajama pants dragging on the floor, and he watches, eyes wide. “You wanna come in?”

He passes you the flowers, stammers through an explanation for them that doesn’t make any sense to his brain no matter how many words he adds on. You don’t say a word to help him, don’t complete his sentence to parse out his meaning, nothing. You just let him flail.

Eventually, he trails into defeated silence, and wishes he could be grateful that his own voice is no longer grating on his ears. It’s embittered by the way you take the flowers, expression unchanging, and turn, pretending to fluff them up and rearrange them.

He stares at your back, left open and vulnerable. You don’t have a reason to guard against him, he guesses, he left all his swords behind when he stabbed them through you today.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and glance halfway over your shoulder. Rintarō freezes.

“You should be free to date who you want. Or ask, anyway. Especially if that’s how you—how you feel.”

“No,” he says, and his tongue feels thick and gluey and stupid.

“Yes,” you argue. “I’m sorry I reacted—um. I let my f-f—” You can’t seem to finish the sentence, a long-held horror icing over your veins. Years of pining, collapsed into this one awful moment.

You drop your chin to your chest, stare down at the flowers. There’s an aphid crawling in one of the roses, descending into the heart of the bloom.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s like a full-body sigh to finally say it right. You turn, and he’s right there, and it’s so easy to lean your head on his chest and let his heartbeat calm you.

Except his pulse is hammering in allegro, faster even than yours, and you have to wonder why unflappable Rintarō seems on the verge of panic.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I lied.”

“About what?” You lift your head, and his eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them, his mouth barely turned down.

“Not your roommate,” he mutters, and you nudge him.

“Can’t hear you.”

“I—shut up, this is hard, okay?” His voice has no anger in it, though, and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your face, even as you brace yourself for god-knows-what. “I made a lot of mistakes. That were especially. Unfair. To you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say plainly. “Please, what the fuck?”

“I’m in love with you,” he says it like a curse, scrubbing his hands through his hair, eyes squeezed shut. You stand up, ramrod-straight, and he sways a little, practically unnoticeably, at the loss of your touch.

“You are not.” Your voice is firm but your eyes are watering. You want him out, you want him to go away. You want him not to use this, your most precious secret, against you. You want him to be better.

“I am,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”

“That is,” you struggle for words, and that distorted laugh escapes you again. “That is cruel. That’s not funny.”

“I’m serious,” Rintarō says, desperate, hands out and palms up. “I love you."

"I'm going to be sick," and you might be joking, but your hands are clutched over your stomach like maybe you mean it.

"Please don't," he says, and the familiar warmth of his touch is a balm on your clammy cheek. "I made mistakes because I was scared. That you were too good for me, that I'd fuck you over, just like I ended up doing. You're right, I think, I knew I was dating girls I didn't like or who didn't like me and I thought I couldn't face that with you. I know it sounds stupid, really stupid, but it's true, Y/N, please."

Wiry strands of Rintarō's hair are sticking to his forehead, his lashes clumping together, his mouth wobbling. You hate how many minutes you've spent staring at that mouth, the shape memorized through quick, platonic swipes of your thumb across it to clear smeared crumbs, through taking advantage of his love of side-eyeing other people and leaving you free to stare. That's your undoing—the stupid tremble of his barely pink, bitten lips, the ones you've always wanted to kiss until all of his snarky nonchalance has melted right off him, the way you know Rintarō couldn't fake that expression if he wanted to.

"And my roommate?"

"I'm an asshole," he says, with none of the usual wryness he uses when he's being charmingly self-aware. "I couldn't face my feelings for the only girl I couldn't have so I asked for the closest thing to it."

Maybe he could have survived like that, chasing a forever that could have existed if he weren't heartstoppingly, achingly, crazy in love with you. He could have watched from a safe distance as you fell in love with someone else, could have distracted himself while the girl he wanted found someone who was better for her.

"You could have me, though," you say, frustrated. He shakes his head.

"Nobody should have you. Nobody deserves you. Should just feel lucky you let them hang out with you." You huff out a laugh, but he sounds dead serious. You remember, early on, you'd gone on a couple dates, and Rintarō had always been there, sprawled over your couch, yawning, tawny eyes narrowed. Don't drop your standards for these losers.

"You know this kind of thing doesn't foster trust," your hands cover his, and there's a hopeful glimmer in those eyes that makes his breath pick up. "Kind of an ominous start to a relationship."

"I'm not romantic." He's a little afraid of the effect the words will have, but he needs to be honest with you, with himself. Even when it's ugly. Example: "You threatened to puke on me when I told you I love you."

You turn your nose up in the air, joy leaking through your expression, and the rub of your thumb over the back of his hands feels like forgiveness. His teeth tug on his lower lip, exposing the scar where he'd once had a lip ring that had driven you into a fever for all the months he'd worn it. You know then: you have history with the fucking mouth he has on him, and you're not done with it. "It was deserved."

"The worst part is that I wouldn't mind." He'd just worry that it got in your hair, that you weren't feeling good. God, he loves you so much it's grossing him out. "Are we...okay?"

"We will be," you say, and kiss him, because you've been wanting to since he first hid in your room from the chaos of your floor's common area. And then you kiss him again because he's really good at it. And then one more time, to bite his lip and hear him pretend he didn't whine when you pulled away. "You shouldn't call yourself an asshole, you know. I don't like it when people shit talk the people I love."

"Mm, it was deserved," he grins. "But if you really want it—you should make me."

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarō x reader #suna angst #suna fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! angst to fluff #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #hq x reader angst

1K notes · View notes

strwbrryeyes · 10 days

Text

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist pt.3

⟡ featuring: hinata, semi, iwaizumi, kenma

⟡ cw: angst, mentions of cheating, heart broken hinata my baby, these also might be longer than the last two whoops. also can you tell i was angry while writing kenma's? ps thank you for 200 followers mwah<3

⟡ an: its that time again (waterparks ((fandom)) edition bc im obsessed)

⟡ part one, part two

⟡ hinata shoyo: never bloom again - waterparks

You and Hinata dated for four years from your first year of high school to your first year of university. Honestly, it could have been a lifelong relationship if it weren’t for Brazil. Hinata told you he was leaving the week after graduation. After telling you, you cried and yelled at him, pounding at his chest while crying ‘how could you do this to me?’ in between sobs but after a while, you had calmed down and you agreed to try a long distance relationship. Hinata visited you whenever he could, holidays, your birthdays, any reason to see you but it wasn’t enough for you. Hinata would always be everything to you but you couldn’t bear the fact that he was so far away, and sure you both called and texted each other but the time difference between Brazil and Japan made it difficult and Hinata could see it in your eyes whenever he visited, whenever you sent him a picture of yourself, whenever you facetimed…you were tired. It got to the point where you would cry yourself to sleep almost every night because you missed him and just wanted to be by his side, so with so much hesitation, you called him one night and told Hinata you couldn’t do this anymore. You needed him, not his texts, not his calls, no matter how much you loved them, you needed him physically there with you. Hinata protested and said that he wold move back to Japan for you but you couldn’t let him do that, you knew how important it was for him to be in Brazil to better his volleyball skills, so he finally gave in and you broke up after a year of long distance. Another year later, Hinata moved back to Japan after two years of being in Brazil, meaning he could see you again, he hoped so at least. Hinata didn’t know what you’ve been up to as you broke off communication with each other after the break up to avoid the pain of being in eachother’s lives. Hinata had his hopes up and was telling Yachi and Yamaguchi his plan to win you back but quickly had them crushed when they told him you had moved to Europe to finish university so you could start a new life. You didn’t want to be in Japan anymore, stuck with all the memories the both of you had made. It was too painful. Now it was Hinata’s turn. He was surrounded by the memories, everything reminded him of you, every now and then he’d see someone from across the street and see your face only for it to not be you, just some stranger. Hinata was never the same, even if he seemed happy and well, he was breaking inside constantly like he would never be truly happy again.

⟡ eita semi: worst - waterparks

You and Semi have been dating since middle school, practically inseparable. you and Semi were both in your 20s now and life has not stopped a single bit. The both of you were currently in the music industry, with Semi and his band being one of the biggest groups rising to stardom in the world and with you being a songwriter. You’ve always been a behind-the-scenes type person so you never really went out to parties or to big events. Semi, however, was a social person…at least on the party scene. It was a chance for him to let loose and not let worries get in his way, and who are you to take that away from him? The trust you and Semi had for eachother was strong, after all, you guys have been dating for years so why wouldn’t you? With this being the case, you never had any doubt about him going on tour without you. You still had other clients to write for so you couldn’t go with him but you never once worried about what he would do. That was until you were hanging out with your friends, Tendou and Ushijima, and they mentioned how Semi seemed different, that he seemed more careless and emotionless. You assured them that there was nothing different about him but when you went home that night you kept thinking about everything and looked back at how life has been since Semi has gained fame…he hadn’t changed. No. He was still the same Semi you fell in love with all those years ago. Sure he had questionable friends that made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t like them, he always had girls lining up for a chance with him but he never gave them a chance…at least you think so. Regardless, you’re sure everything was fine and plus you were going to surprise him at his show in Tokyo! Any worry that you have will be wiped away when you see him all you had to do was wait. So you did. The day of the Tokyo show finally came up and you were standing at his dressing room doorway with tears in your eyes as you look at the sight in front of you- Semi and some random girl all over each other. Semi knew you were there, but he didn’t even care, all he did was give you a side glance before going back to the other girl. After that, you went home and changed all of the locks, removed all the pictures of him, blocked him on everything, and wrote a song that was sure to ruin his reputation out of anger, but even after all of that, you were still stuck with a giant hole in your heart and you don’t think it could ever be filled.

⟡ iwaizumi hajime: i felt younger when we met - waterparks

It all started four years ago when Iwaizumi moved to California for college. You both had known each other for 2 years prior to graduating and it was pretty obvious to other people that you two had a thing for each other but it wasn’t until after he had moved that either of you said something. Iwaizumi was the first to say he liked you, infact he said he loved you. It didn’t take long for your young and dumb self to transfer to where he was studying. You were both in love and naive so neither of you really thought about this big change in depth. The first two years of your relationship were perfect, you both got good grades, you had moved into a small apartment together, and you were both happy, you really couldn’t ask for more. Even though you and Iwaizumi were living the ideal love life, everyone else in your lives thought you guys rushed into things. The two of you weren’t even that close to begin with, you were just classmates in high school who had kiddie crushes on each other. It really all came down to the honeymoon phase, nothing was ever wrong and you never argued. It wasn’t until your third year of dating that you both realized that your life goals were very different from each other and this of course caused a ripple in your relationship. Wanting to be supportive of each other and your dreams, you set your goals aside for now and planned to come up with a compromise when the time called for it. Things were kind of back to normal until you both started learning more about one another. Bad habits you each had, sense of humor you didn’t share, different views, really whatever you could think of you both would disagree with one another and you were starting to get on eachother’s nerves. Iwaizumi reached the end of his rope quicker than you did. He ended things in the middle of a heated argument of something you can’t even remember because the only thing you were worried about at that moment was him packing up all of his things and walking out that apartment door but at the same time, you didn’t care. You had officially fallen out of love with him even though you never thought you could. Now whenever you think of him, all you could think about was how you uprooted your life for him. You moved across the world and for what? Nothing but anger and disgust filled you whenever you thought of all the moments you shared with him. To think of how different everything could have been if you two had just taken your time and not rushed into the relationship.

⟡ kozume kenma: easy to hate you - waterparks

Honestly, Kenma got on your nerves quite often. It was nothing you weren’t used to though because it was always simple things like him not doing the dishes whenever he was done eating or him spending too much time playing video games. Your annoyance never came from anything serious, just simple relationship stuff. When his streaming career started taking off, you never really bothered him to do anything around your shared house. It was only fair since it generated enough income for you to quit your part time job as a waitress and focus on school more. This doesn’t mean that it still didn’t annoy you that Kenma would seemingly spend more time playing video games than spending time with you whenever you had free time. Sometimes he would invite you onto stream so you two could ‘bond’ but it never felt right, to you it felt like you were more of a prop for his audience, like he would spend time with you only because his fansloved watching the two of you interact. Still, you brushed it off because it was still nice to be able to make him laugh whenever you did something silly in a game or said something funny. It also didn’t hurt that sometimes he would get all lovey dovey on camera making you swoon, even if it did feel fake at times. In the end, you thought it was the best you and Kenma could do considering the circumstances, you being in college and streaming being Kenma’s full time job. Kenma had promised you that once you winter break started, that he would put a hold on streaming so the both of you could spend time together and it excited you so it was only natural that you were pissed off when winter break finally came and Kenma said that he had sponsorships to deal with on stream. He said it isn’t something that could be helped but you snapped back saying that he could have scheduled these sponsored streams during any other time. Kenma didn’t care about what you said and just stayed in his streaming room for most of the two weeks. You started to ease a bit though once he started streaming for shorter amounts of times and spent more time with you during the day. You were finally happy with your relationship after who knows how long but then he decided that you being on a break from school would be the perfect time to do a 48 hour subathon. All you wanted was to spend time with your boyfriend but instead he just used you to gain more viewers. Again. Still, you agreed to do it agreeing that it would be fun but really yo had a plan. Three hours into the stream you said you have an announcement and everyone, including Kenma thought it would be something happy and big, but really, you were about to publicly dump him. After your little speech on how selfish Kenma actually was, you called one of your best friends to come pick you up and told Kenma that you would be back for your stuff the next day. You were finally free from the one-sided relationship you should have left sooner but now Kenma was rethinking all his choices as he scrolls through tweets talking about the breakup stream. At least it made him go viral.

90 notes · View notes

dreamsholdpowers · 27 days

Text

Maybe meant to meet, but not to be

Akaashi x Fem Reader

(I don't own the image)

~Warnings : ANGST, my shitty writing (this is my first time writing please be kind), Breakup (I'm going through one and have no idea how to cope so suffer with me)

~Word count: 1,297. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Life was going perfect, or so you believed. Your relationship with your boyfriend was about to hit 2 year mark in a few months and you couldn't be happier. -You had already started planning about things to do and places to take him, you had been saving for a while from a part time job you did in a nearby shop and had managed to save enough for a nice evening and some books that you wished to gift him. -But, Life is never that simple is it? Just a month before your 2 year anniversary. Akaashi, your ever doting and loving boyfriend texts that he's coming over in about half an hour. -You get up and start tidying the place as good as you can. Who in their right mind would give up a chance to spend time with their boyfriend given his hectic schedule that consists of Volleyball practices and school work and dealing with his energetic bestfriend Bokuto. - As it was a little tradition between both of you to just sit down and decompress and talk about everything and nothing while cuddling. -Or that's what you thought, -You were arranging some books on the bookshelves when you heard a knock on the door, giddy with happiness you make your way to the door opening it for your boyfriend who let himself in without a word. "That's weird" you thought to yourself cause usually your boyfriend greets you with a hug or a kiss on the forehead. You dismiss it thinking it he must be occupied thinking about something. "Earth to Keiji? you wave a hand in front of your boyfriend's face, "What's got you so occupied love? A penny for your thoughts?" You teased him, nudging his shoulders with yours. "Nothing Y/N" He seems tensed about something so you ask "Is there something bothering you love?" You ask. "I need to talk about something, we should sit down" He says, fiddling with his fingers. "Okay Keiji, but what's wrong?" you asked taking a seat beside him on the couch, holding his hands and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. "What's bothering you?" You asked him softly, trying to look into his eyes that were looking everywhere but at your face. "I can't do this anymore Y/N" you knew, you knew what that meant, what that sentence meant but you couldn't believe it, not one bit. you hoped you heard it wrong. Swallowing the lump in your throat, "Can't do what Love?" you asked with the most firm voice you could, gripping his hand tightly. "This, I-I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry." you couldn't believe your ears. It was like the world was praying a cruel joke, it was then that his eyes finally met yours, you saw tears, sadness, while yours held disbelief, pain and betrayal. "B-But why?" Your voice came out broken, "Why so suddenly Keiji? Everything was going good, w-we were happy then why?" You whispered. As if saying it too loud would break you entirely apart, it would make it real. Something you weren't able to digest. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry sunshine. But I can't do it anymore. I don't feel anything. You didn't deserve any of this, I am sorry for doing this to you. But continuing would just cause both of us pain." "I don't- how? Why?-" You break down, crying. One hand clenching his jacket while the other hand is over your mouth. Biting your palm to muffle your sobs. You just couldn't believe it. Why? How? What went wrong? Were you not good enough? Was it something you did? You thought it was going good, that you you both were happy. "I'm so sorry for doing it this way, you're deserving of so much more sunshine. I am not the one for you, I don't feel it anymore. I'm sorry" He replies softly. He turns removes the palm, caressing it with such familiarity that just brought more tears. Wiping your tears. he places your hand on his heart. It beats calmly, way too calmly for your liking.

And you sob harder. He pulls you into a hug, it pains him to see you like this. The girl that cherished him, understood him and his silence, the girl that loved him, his faults and flaws. It hurts him to be the cause of your pain but some things need to be done. Staying with him would hurt you more. Maybe when you move on, You'll find someone that cherishes you the way you cherished him, who would love you more, more than he ever could, who would choose you everyday cause that's what you deserve. Cause you deserve someone who would give you the world and that is not Keiji. No one knows the amount of time that's passed with him holding you and you crying into his chest. "I'm sorry sunshine, that it has to be this way. You deserve so much more than what I can give you" He whispered softly looking into your glistening e/c orbs. You cling to him tightly with no intention of letting him go. "But you're all I want! Please, d-don't do this Keiji. Please" You cried into his shoulder. He pulls away, wiping your tears with his thumbs. "shh sunshine, I didn't want it to be this way. I never wanted to hurt you like this. I hope someday you'll find it in yourself to forgive me" You cried harder, your voice cracked as you said "You p-promised me forever Keiji!" He could only muster a small smile, with tears running down both of your cheeks. Foreheads touching "I know, but sometimes forever isn't forever Y/N" He gets up, You hold his shirt tightly with no intention to let go. "We can sort it please. Please don't go." He gently removes your fingers, and places one final chaste kiss to your lips. "I'm so sorry Y/N for the pain I've caused but sometimes it's maybe just meant to meet and not to be." just before he leaves, you hold his hand "Just answer me this Keiji." he looks at you and nods "Ask" you take a deep breath, trying to firm up your voice as much as you can "Do you at any point regret us? This relationship?" He looks at you with a small sad smile on this face and shakes his head "Never. If anything I'm happy it happened." his answer leaves you feeling all sorts of things- sadness, a bitter feeling of relief, warm, yet pain and agony. he leaves the through the door and within the span of an hour your whole world collapsed . - And you're sitting in the living room with the broken pieces of yourself crying and wondering how to even function, cause he didn't just leave alone. He took half of your soul with you. - You're remembering everything about your relationship- your fights, the first time he told you that he loved you, the time you both walked alongside the sea shore, the time you both walked in the rain and the sky had a pinkish hue, the time he helped you through your panic attacks. the times he held you when you cried, how he taught you love, the way he taught you patience how he stayed up studying with you. -There is so much that he has done, that's why you called him angel. Your angel that you just lost. And your heart doesn't know what to do or how to deal with it. -It came as a shock to everyone that knew you. And you're so tired. You have no idea what to do with life anymore or how to start functioning. - For now, you'd just try to survive through the days, learning how to live without him in your life. You do wish that you can stop crying but how can you? when everything near you always reminds you of him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tbh idk what did I do here. this is my first fic please be a lil nice. English isn't my first language. my bf and I broke up yesterday and I'm still not able to process it. This was an outlet to my own breakup and some sentences are what was told to me. Hope whoever is reading this has a good day <333

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #haikyuu angst #haikyuu #akaashi scenarios #haikyuu akaashi #breakup #akaashi headcanons #boyfriend akaashi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst

40 notes · View notes

truegoist · 2 years

Text

you and atsumu have always been close friends, and always will

he has more than a thousand memories with you but the one that shines the brightest is when two of you were still in middle school, skipping class to lay in the grass. After all going to school in your birthday is just plain unfair

he watched you as you turned to face him, hair sprawled around your face, and asked him.

“tsumu, 20 years later, if we’re both still single, would you marry me?”

he had teased you about it for weeks, ignoring the way how his heart skips a beat whenever he thinks about your proposal.

but year after year and partner after partner, ignoring the little voice in him telling he should shot his shot instead of waiting, a side of him that secretly felt some sort of satisfaction whenever he comforted you after another horrible breakup got harder

you too felt something was missing with all those guys you dated right? Missing something that only he can provide

Sometimes he’d find himself calculating the time left for you two’s marriage; 10 years and 45 days till you can be mine,

5 years…

3…

1…

Atsumu practically skipped on his way towards your house, the bouquet on his hands swaying with his movements. He searched at least 3 shops just to find your favorite flowers.

He slipped inside your front door that was left open, mentally noting himself to scold you on it later on. Not today though, todays the day where his patience paid off. The 20th anniversary of the day where you made the proposal he hung on so desperately.

He had skipped the practice to come here but it was okay right? After all the two of you t-

His thoughts froze as he heard your laughter, a voice he could make out among any crowd, coming from the kitchen,

and there you were, still as beautiful as ever, shinning so brightly.

with your arms wrapped around their neck, laughing as the other side swayed with you from side to side, hands holding you with the confidence Atsumu should’ve had.

In any other case he could’ve reacted differently, thinking they were just some other meaningless fling you had. It should’ve been so

so why did you had that look in your eyes? The shine that Atsumu searched for any time your eyes met, the approval of his love for you was reciprocated.

when did that happen? Was it while he was away for his matches and you were alone? Were they wooing you while he was there playing volleyball?

“Oh! Hey Atsumu!” You beamed at him, smiling at the male in front of you. Your smile was as bright as ever but it lacked something, a something that you had when you were looking at the person behind you.

“is something wrong?” even if you didn’t knew him for years, anyone could tell something was wrong with the expression he had, filled with pure despair. “You can tell me, I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

that’s right.

after all you and atsumu have always been close friends, and always will.

despite how much he want for it to be something more, or despite the childish promise you two made. It would be dense for him to actually believe in such small possibility of someone as amazing as you staying single right?

Atsumu put on his signature cheeky smile, handing you the bouquet with happiness. Anyone who didn’t saw him a moment ago would think nothing was wrong

“it’s nothing, happy birthday (name)”

522 notes · View notes

chaxiu · 1 year

Text

object impermanence

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x female! reader

summary: a love letter to small towns, and all the other things we outgrow. inspired by "the dry season" by hannah gramson.

⎯⎯⎯

The thing is this: if there’s anything you’re sure of, it’s that Iwaizumi Hajime loves his hometown, small as it is.

He loves the quiet streets, the roads that he’s been walking since he was old enough to take those first steps on his own, face screwed up in extreme concentration in a way that his mother loves to mimic even today. He loves the grandmother around the corner that always tells him Goodness, Hajime-kun, you’re getting so tall, even though he hasn’t grown even a fraction of a centimeter since his second year of high school, much to his dismay and Oikawa’s delight. He loves the konbini next to the school that always keeps his favorite popsicles in stock (the ones that come with two sticks and are perfect for splitting,) even in the heat of summer when everyone and their mother is scrambling to buy anything that’ll keep them cool. He loves his school, his team, and his friends: he loves the foundations he’s built here, the foundation he’s become. He loves his family, and the agedashi tofu that his mother makes for him whenever she thinks he’s done a good job at something or he needs something to cheer him up or she just wants him to know that she loves him.

He loves you: you know this. Have known this, ever since he’d started offering to walk you home from school, ears red, hand scratching the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but at you. You’d grinned at him, then. “Are you gonna look at me at any point the entire way?”

The red had spread to his cheeks. Part of you wanted to reach up and poke them, see if they could get any redder. “Shut up,” he’d said, wrenching his gaze to yours with what looked like some difficulty. “Do you want me to walk you home or not?”

You did, although he didn’t need to know just yet quite how much. Instead, you had grinned at him, shuffling a little closer and letting that stand as your response.

One day bled into two, then into a week, and before you knew it he was standing in front of you, hands clenched into fists as he yelled into your face: “I like you!”

“I know,” you’d said.

He’d stood there, mouth still half-open, until you decided to take pity on him, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back. He’d reacted almost immediately, grabbing your hands in his and pulling you to him, close enough that your foreheads almost knocked together.

You remember thinking a lot of things. How his eyes were greener than you’d ever noticed, that he smelled like salonpas and clean cotton. Mostly, you remember thinking about how rough his hands were: callused and sturdy, far bigger than your own.

They’d held you so tenderly. Fingers loose around your wrists, palm cupped underneath yours: soft, so soft.

Tonight it’s hard to remember a lot of things about Iwaizumi: the exact way his chin dimples when he grins, or how his voice rasps in the morning without the tinny sound of your phone’s speaker laid over it. You still remember his hands, though. You don’t think you could ever forget.

A crackling yawn comes through the speakers. “Babe? You there?”

“I’m here,” you say, quiet. “I always am.”

Night for you means morning for him, and Iwaizumi wakes up diligently every week for your scheduled calls, even if it means you get the pleasure of hearing his earth-shattering yawns every five minutes for the entire duration of the call. It’s what both of you signed up for, you know: it’s part and parcel of being in a long-distance relationship. And California to Japan is about as long-distance as it gets: your friends in college, when you tell them about him, all cluck disbelievingly. “So far away,” they all say. “That must be so difficult.”

“I love him,” you always say back. There’s no point in talking about whether or not it’s difficult. What matters is whether or not you’re willing to do it. At least that’s what the two of you had decided, when you sat down and talked it out a month before he was set to leave for California.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he’d said, eyes holding yours steadily. “I want to make us work, do you?”

He’d said your name, cradled in between his tongue and the roof of his mouth like it was the most precious thing he’d ever held, and you knew then you would never forgive yourself if you hadn’t tried.

“Yeah,” you’d said. It had been worth the tightening in your stomach to see the way his face lit up like the sun. “Of course I do, Hajime.”

“Hajime!” comes from the other end of the call, heavily accented and distorted almost beyond repetition. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair on the screen: Iwaizumi’s roommate. All you’ve been able to discern about him is that he’s a beanstalk of a man – long and lanky, with no coordination whatsoever – and is from the south of the U.S., which Iwaizumi tells you is apparently famous only for cowboys and meat. He seems nice enough, from what you can tell; still, hearing Iwaizumi’s first name in his mouth leaves a sour taste in yours.

It’s not like he means anything by it, you know. It’s only a difference in culture: Iwaizumi has told you about how it still shocks him, sometimes, to hear near-strangers call him by his first name. It’s not the same, you want to tell him, but there’s no way to tell him how it makes you feel without sounding ridiculous. That it feels like letting go. That it feels like your hold on him is weakening, somehow.

Back home, it was only his parents and you that regularly called him Hajime. Mattsun and Makki called him Iwaizumi, or Iwa, if they were feeling particularly chummy; Oikawa, of course, stuck with the tried-and-true Iwa-chan. At school, you’d been the only one to call him Hajime, and everyone knew what that meant. Now, everyone does, and it pokes at something tender in you, something you hadn’t even realized could be hurt in the first place.

Iwaizumi swivels around in his chair, saying something in English. You tuck your chin into your forearms, resting on the desk, watching his expression as he barks out a laugh, loud and harsh and your favorite sound in the whole entire world.

The last time he’d come home was almost three months ago, sun-tanned and with even broader shoulders. Still, there was the same familiar press of his hand on your back as he’d gathered you up in a hug. “Missed you,” he’d said, and you’d known that he’d meant it.

“Missed you more,” you’d said, and you’d meant it, too.

The thing is this: you’re absolutely certain that Iwaizumi Hajime loves his small town.

You’re also sure that he’s outgrown that love.

Two months and two weeks ago, you’d bounded up the stairs to his bedroom, hand poised at the doorknob to let yourself in when you heard Iwaizumi’s voice, gruff and irritated as usual but with a thread of tension through it, brittle in a way you’d never heard it before.

“-- I know it’s a good opportunity,” he’d said. “Utsui Takashi is a legend. I’ve wanted to work with him since forever –”

The person on the other end had cut him off with something you couldn’t hear. Iwaizumi had heaved an enormous sigh.

“Yes, even though he’s Ushijima’s dad. You know, you’re the only person in the world who’s still holding on to that grudge, I bet. But it would mean that I’d be committed to live in the U.S. for the next five years after I graduate, at least. Maybe more, if they decided to give me a job there. It might mean staying there permanently. And… I’m pretty committed to coming back here.”

Another pause.

“I know she’d understand, if I told her. But I don’t think I could do that to her. I don’t think I could make her wait for me like that. She deserves more than half a relationship, and I want to give that to her.”

A longer pause, this time, then an irritated growl. “I know I’m losing a good opportunity. I just – I can’t. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? Utsui-san said I could have time to think about it, anyway. I’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to let him down gently.”

Your hand was shaking, you’d realized with a start, pulling it back to your side. You’d turned and walked straight back out of his house, swiveling at the doorway to rap three times on the frame, letting the sound echo limply through the rooms.

Iwaizumi had come downstairs and grinned at you. “Hey,” he’d said, as if he wasn’t giving up his life for you.

“Hey,” you’d said back, as if you weren’t letting him.

You’d meant to talk to him about it, you really had. But he’d seemed so content in Miyagi, in the same little town you’d both grown up in, the one both of you had known since birth. And a part of you, a selfish part, a larger part than you’d like to admit, had been whispering the entire time: Would this be so bad? He could be happy here. You could make him happy here.

And then he’d left, and now you’re here, sitting at your desk in your childhood bedroom, watching him tip back in his chair dangerously far, laughing so hard you’d probably be able to see his molars if it weren’t for your shitty camera quality.

You’re happy he’s happy. You don’t think you could stop being happy for his happiness.

There’s just this part of you that wishes he could find that here, still.

But you know contentment isn’t happiness, no matter how desperately the both of you have been trying to pretend it can be. He’s happy there, where he’s constantly challenged, constantly pushed to be better, better, better. Where he gets to chase his own dreams and not be constantly haunted by his what ifs.

Here, you think you could give him everything you had and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Iwaizumi would pretend it was, if it came down to it. If you let him. He loves you enough that he would. He’d press a kiss to your forehead before leaving for work in the morning and a longer one to your lips when he came home in the evening. There would be quiet dinners and bland weekends, a soft existence spilling out before you every day.

But there would still be a hunger in him.

It would be so selfish of you to keep him. You don’t know how to stop wanting him to stay.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi says your name, soft, a fondness in the sound that even bleeds through the screen. His roommate is out of the screen again, accompanied by a bang you assume is the closing of their door. “Is everything all right? You’ve been kinda quiet these past few weeks.”

Your stomach hurts, because of course he noticed, it’s Iwaizumi. You force a smile to your lips, although the muscles in your cheeks tremor with the effort. “Yeah, Hajime. Everything’s okay.”

“You know you can always tell me anything, right?” he asks. You know that if he were here there would be a hand intertwined with yours, or a gentle kiss pressed at the crook of your neck, right where it meets your shoulder.

That’s the problem, though. He’s not here. He can’t be here. You can’t – won’t – make him be here.

“Hajime,” you say, because some days it’s the only thing you have left to say.

He waits, silent. You can just make out the rise and fall of his chest over the pixellated laptop screen.

Coming back here, Iwaizumi had said, back when you had overheard him all those weeks ago. He’d said here, not home. Not coming back home.

“Hajime,” you say again, because you can. “Hajime, I think we should break up.”

A thud, and then Iwaizumi disappears from your vision with a muffled curse. He must’ve tipped back too far in his chair in surprise – you’re always warning him about it, ever since he’d told you about the odd chair that they’d given him in his dorm room, the one that rocks back a little too far – and fallen over. Part of you wants to laugh. The other part of you aches, a little, that this is the last time Iwaizumi will do something stupid with you here to watch it, you here to gently chastise and tease him after.

“Be careful,” you say, almost on reflex, as his head appears back on screen, hair mussed up and face red. “You’re going to crack your skull open someday.”

“I’m not going to – why are we even talking about this right now? You just said you think we should break up.” He takes a seat back in the chair, although he doesn’t tip back this time, you note.

“You should still be careful,” you say. He’s placed his hands on the desk, where they’re in view of you and the camera, and you can see the way they’re opening and closing hopelessly, as if he’s looking for something he can hold, or something he can hit.

“What the fuck?” he asks, disbelievingly. Then, “Is this a joke?”

“No,” you say. “It’s not a joke, Hajime.”

“Why are you saying my name like that,” Iwaizumi demands. His hands squeeze into fists and stay that way, white-knuckled on the desk.

“Like what?”

He shakes his head, rough, like he’s trying to get water out of his ears. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve seen him do many times before. Some distant part of you wonders if it’s too late to take it all back.

“I don’t fucking know, like – like you’ve given up already. Like you’re letting it go.”

“I’m not giving up,” you lie. “I just think that this will be better for us. In the long run.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Iwaizumi asks.

“I heard you talking,” you rush out. “To Utsui-san. It’s a good offer. I think you should take it. If you don’t mind taking advice from an ex, that is.”

“Is that what this is about?” he asks, then says your name again, so full of something that makes your chest ache. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll turn him down, I’ll come back to Japan. It’s okay, baby. We can still be okay. I love you so much –”

“I love you too,” you say, even though something in your throat is making it so that it hurts to speak. “But – Hajime, I think you love me like you love Miyagi. Or the grandmother who gives us those sweet potatoes in the summer. Or that park that you always take me to, the one with the bugs you say you don’t want to catch but I can tell that you do. Hajime, do you understand me?”

Iwaizumi opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I love all of those things,” he says. “I love you the most. What’s wrong with that?”

“You love us,” you say. “We could make you content. But the offer, Hajime. It would make you so happy to be able to study with him. Really, truly happy.”

He doesn’t contest your words. You’d known he wouldn’t, had half-hoped he might. Instead: “I could still come back after,” he says. “If you were willing to wait for me.”

“You know that’s unfair to ask,” you say. There are tears at the edge of your vision, threatening to spill over. You don’t bother to wipe them away. “Unfair to me, and unfair to you. You have to keep looking forward, Hajime. I think this – all of this – belongs in your past.”

He says your name again, voice cracking, spilling over.

Iwaizumi Hajime loves his small town. Iwaizumi Hajime loves you.

Both of those love him enough to let him go.

“Can I change your mind?” he asks, and you shake your head. The action dislodges a few tears, and they run down your cheeks, plopping onto the fabric of your pants and no doubt leaving a stain.

“I love you,” you reply, like an apology, like a goodbye.

“I love you,” he says, like a prayer.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.”

“Don’t forget to keep taking your vitamins,” he says, voice brittle. “And go to bed early and don’t forget to give yourself breaks and make sure to go for walks, every once in a while, okay? Just to get some fresh air. You can’t forget any of those things just because – just because I won’t be there to remind you.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to say anything back for a minute. “Don’t stress so much,” you say, forcing it out past the lump in your throat. You may never get a chance to tell him again. “I’m sure Utsui-san will recognize how hard you work. You’re going to be incredible, Hajime, do you understand?”

Iwaizumi nods, stiff. His shoulders are shaking.

“Bye, Hajime,” you choke out.

He says your name – just your name – and you nearly fold, nearly give in, nearly buy the next ticket to California just to press your face into the crook of his neck and reassure him that none of it meant anything at all.

Instead you give a little half-wave, click the button to end the call, and shut the laptop woodenly. Your childhood bedroom has never felt so small, with the peeling posters and the small bed, tucked into a corner, with the knicknacks and stuffed animals cluttering up the shelves someone else must’ve come in and dusted, in your absence.

Outside, your little town remains quiet. You allow yourself to mourn alongside it.

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!! x reader angst #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyu!! x reader angst #haikyu x reader angst #hq x reader angst #hq!! x reader angst #first fic screaming crying throwing up #iwaizumi x reader angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst

257 notes · View notes