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theduosetter · 2 years

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tidal waves

Maybe it sometimes a love is too good to be true.

When you're young you're dumb, thinking that relationships wouldn't be so hard to manage when you are only 16. What was there to be afraid of?

But there comes a time when two people who loved each other too much start to go at war with one another.

That's how it felt like right now.

The happiness, love, and company you adored so much was starting to fade away. There was so much hope you had within you to fix things yet when there's no agreement from both sides, it's a loss cause.

"I told you I was tired today, y/n." He sighed taking a sip from his water bottle.

"I understand. A-and I'm not saying we should do anything after school. I wanted to come and cheer you on during practice-"

Slowly Kei stood up from the ground, a tired sigh escaping from his lips. "You're only going to be a distraction here. I need to concentrate."

Your eyes widened trying hard not to let his words get to you. "How is me being here a distraction?" You questioned. "All I want to do is spend time with my boyfriend."

"Well your boyfriend is too busy training to go to Tokyo." He annoyingly spoke. "You should leave, there's no use in you staying here."

Your grip tightened around the strap of your bag. He walked passed you not saying another word. "Why do you always have to be such an ass?" You muttered making sure he only heard.

Hearing your words made him stop. Some of his team members looked over at you two. They could sense tension between you both but didn't dare to interfere unless it was necessary.

"I'm being an ass now?" He scoffed. "I told you to leave because there was no use for you to stand around. I don't get how being honest is now me being an asshole to you all of a sudden."

"Because you are!" You exclaimed looking him in the eyes. "I've been trying to spend time with you but you kept pushing me away every time. I didn't bother you or said anything because I respected your space!"

By this time it had caught everyone's attention. Coach Ukai became concerned which resulted in him speaking up and it got on his nerves even more.

"Tsukishima she's not a bother, she can stay and watch." Ukai said. "She can even help if she likes, she's your girlfriend you should learn to be a little bit nicer to her."

Kei clenched his jaw tightly the it relaxed as he plastered on one of his famous fake smiles he used on opponents. "You're right sir, I was just saying that she had better things to do than be here. After all we don't know how long practice is going to last and she should go home instead to rest away form here."

You knew of course he didn't meant it. Ukai could see it as well. "Tsukishima she's not your opponent-"

"No." You weakly smiled. "It's fine. Kei is right," you looked at Coach Ukai. "I'll be in the way and won't really be much help. I should go study instead, I apologize for making a bit scene out of this. Sorry for interrupting your practice." You bowed respectful at the entire time.

"Y/n you can stay I'm sure you cheering for him will make him feel less grumpy." Sugawara joked. "Really, stay."

Kei wrapped his arm around you, making you jump in surprise by his sudden warm touch, one that you had been missing for so long. "Sugawara's right you should."

You tilted your head to look up at him. He was smiling but it wasn't reaching his eyes like it used to. If you rejected the suggestion you knew it'd make things worse.

"Okay, yeah just for a bit." You said pulling away from him and walking over to the bench.

"Hey Tsuki?" Tadashi spoke lowering his voice. "I know you've been stressing out about going to nationals but Sugawara was right. Don't you think you're um being a little too harsh on her?"

Kei looked over at you, seeing you smile as you spoke with Nishinoya. It had been a while since he saw you like that and it pained him deeply knowing he hasn't been able to make you smile like that in a long time.

"I don't have time to worry about stuff like that." He coldy spoke. 'Y/n probably won't stick by much longer I don't why I should care when we both know we stopped that a long time ago."

"Y/n is a great person, remember why you fell for her?" Tadashi asked. "You couldn't even stop staring at her during class and waited for her by the entrance every day after school."

It was true. His mind had been over powered by you in an instant. He himself didn't know when he started to fall for you it just happened. It was the happiest day of his life when you accepted his confession and returned his feelings. Being with you was like living in another world. You were the one person he didn't need to put up a facade with, he was able to be himself.

Pushing his glasses up to his nose, he walked back into the court. "We should get back to practice."

Tadashi looked over at you with sad eyes, he knew you deserved better and at times wished Kei would let you go. But he knew him, despite what he says Kei did still love you even if he did act like a jerk.

"Are you sure he didn't brain wash you to go out with him?" Tanaka asked as he drank out of his sports bottle.

"Tanaka!" Daichi exclaimed. "We both know he's not that mean to do such a thing."

"All I'm saying is that being with someone like Tsukishima seems impossible."

"He's not that bad." You said.

"I find that hard to believe." Kageyama mumbled.

"Tsukishima can be grumpy, even more so than Kageyama!" Hinata exclaimed.

"What did you say you dumbass?!" He retorted proceeding to kick him on the side.

"Seriously though if you were my girlfriend I'd be happy to see you every day." Nishinoya said. "Heck I wouldn't even hesitate to show you off and let everyone know how lucky I am to have such a beautiful girlfriend."

You blushed slightly. "That's very nice of you to say Nishinoya. I'm sure your future girlfriend will appreciate that."

"Hell yeah!" He exclaimed pointing at himself. "I wouldn't dream of insulting you or making you feel less. I think anyone with a boyfriend or girlfriend would feel lucky to have a special someone."

Your eyes started to become watery hearing him talk so sweet about someone he hasn't even met yet. You quickly wiped away the tears with the back of your hand.

"I'm sorry!" Nishinoya said. "I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"N-no." You sniffled. "It's not your fault, I guess the words got to me is all."

"Y/n." Kei spoke, making everyone freeze. "Can I talk to you for a sec."

You swallowed down hard knowing well he probably heard Nishinoya talking. You followed Kei, walking to the other side of the gym away from everyone.

He stopped and turned to look at you. "This is why I told you not to come."

"What?"

"I didn't need my teammates to find out how much of a horrible boyfriend I am."

"But I never said that!" You stated. "I-"

"I don't care if you did or didn't but you made it seem like I was. Whatever happened between us doesn't concern them nor Tadashi. I told you that our problems are ours and no one else's."

"Kei-"

"No." He said. "I didn't want to be near you for a reason. I wanted to avoid of all of this happening. If you would have just listened to me then we wouldn't be fighting right now!"

You were starting to get fed up with his attitude, as much as you loved him and wanted to make it work, Kei was turning into someone you didn't recognize anymore.

"Can you just stop making it seem like everything is my fault for a second?!" You yelled.

He was taken back by your sudden change in attitude.

"I've been trying so damn hard to stay by your side and work things out but it's becoming difficult to keep hope for something that doesn't exist anymore." Tears began to form in your eyes. "I love you, Kei Tsukishima despite your shitty ass attitude and how much of an asshole you are. But I'm reaching my fucking limit! I can't stay quiet and hear you talk to me like I'm nothing!"

Something in him snapped he wasn't thinking about anything anymore. His mouth just opened. "If you were suffering with me then why don't you go with someone else who actually cares about you and treats you like a fragile butterfly then?!" You don't need to stay, no one is tying you down or forcing you to be with-with someone like me!"

"Didn't you hear anything I said?!" You retorted. "I loved you enough to stay! Because my ass thought I could at least make you see how bad things have gotten. To fix things together like couples are supposed to do!"

"Don't you see there is noting to fix?!" He stepped closer, closing the gap between you two. "This was a mistake, since the very beginning it was doomed from the start!" His breaking became unsteady. "You need to stop living in your head thinking that this can be saved, give it a rest and just give up!"

One by one, your tears started to escape. Your mind couldn't comprehend how little your relationship had actually meant to him. How every moment you spend together wasn't real to him.

"Why are you hurting me deliberately?" You asked. "W-What did I ever..." You swallowed down hard as tears fell." D-do to you?"

"You." He answered. "I shouldn't have poured so much focus on you instead of practice. I haven't been this stressed since I first joined the team. If I would have known that it would only bring me a headache I wouldn't have confessed."

"So you're saying you regret everything?" You asked him stepping back. "That everything you ever told me meant nothing to you?"

He chuckled dryly, placing his hands on his hips. "I don't need to keep repeating myself. I've told you once already and with the way things are going I figured you'd get it but I guess not."

"You know what?" You softly spoke. "I really wanted to save this... to be like we used to but it's not happening. And I can't try to save something that the person doesn't want."

"So you're just giving up?" He pressed his tongue against his teeth.

"Yeah." You said feeling defeated. "I guess I am."

You walk passed him, sucking in your lip as you tried to keep down the sob that threatened to escape.

But you didn't make it all the way before be spoke again.

"Typical," he said. "Maybe Nishinoya should've been the one to have you."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"What? It looks like you didn't care about anything when you were smiling your way with him."

"I was only having a conversation with him!" You explained. "I smiled because he had complimented me. Why do you care about that?"

"Because he's not your boyfriend and you're making it seem like you wished he had been!"

"I chose you, Kei!" You cried. "I didn't care about what anyone said about you! I ignored what people said about you being selfish and cold hearted."

"Wow thanks for making me seem like a charity case."

"Would you just stop and hear how much of an asshole you sound like?! No one ever said you were a charity case! I decided to be with you because I loved you. No one ever forced me."

"Sure then you're probably going to go end up in his arms next-*

"Maybe I should." You half smiled.

"What?"

"You heard me." A chuckle escaped from your lips but sadness covered your eyes. "You're probably right maybe this was doomed from the start and who knows being with Nishinoya might have been the better choice for me. Maybe then I wouldn't have to crave compliments from other people since my boyfriend doesn't feel like doing it anymore. Maybe seeking comfort in someone else's arms is better than begging to someone who doesn't love me."

Kei stood quiet looking at the floor with widened eyes. Regret started to run through him, his stomach fell to the ground. Sooner or later you were going to leave but he didn't think it'd be this soon. But then again this was what he wanted right?

Right?

"Why don't we take a breather yeah?" Daichi said. "Before you say something you'll regret in the end-"

Pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, he turned to look at you with glossy eyes. "There's nothing else to say, everything that was needed to be said was said. Right y/n?"

"Goodbye Tsukishima." You said walking out of the gym and not turning around, no matter how much you wanted to.

"Tsukishima, you can take a break if you'd like or go home if you need to." Sugawara said.

"I'm fine." Kei said. "There's nothing else to think about, we have nationals coming up don't we?"

On the outside he looked calm despite what just happened. But the way his body spoke, how much tension he was carrying on his shoulders and hands, said it all. He wanted to scream, scream like he never had before.

As much he wanted to pretend like he was okay, he knew once he was alone every emotion would start to crash down on him like a million bricks.

He lost the person he loved the most and this time there was no other person to blame but himself.

✩ ── Masterlist ✩ ──

#hq!! x reader #haikyuu x self insert #hq!! angst #hq!! fluff #hq anime #hq!! x you #haikyu x reader #hq angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!!#hq!! x y/n #hq!! fanfiction #hq!! imagines

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lovely-ryn · 2 years

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pairing: oikawa x reader

warnings: breakups, angst, hurt/no comfort, cussing, mentions of cheating

JOLENE

we already broke up, so why does it feel like she's taking oikawa away from me?

she's beautiful, a lot more attractive than i am. gorgeous hair, skin, eyes, smile, voice. fuck, everything about her is better than me.

i'm the one that broke up with him so why does it feel like im losing? he's clearly moved on so why can't i? why does it hurt so much that he got a new girlfriend? hell, i got a new significant other but that doesn't mean that i've moved on. why can't i stop loving him?

oikawa doesn't give a fuck about me anymore but i can never love anyone else. my happiness depends on him. which is ironic knowing i wasn't happy in the relationship. we argued all the time and didn't have a single thing in common besides sex. taking a guess, i think it's the same for his new bitch.

oikawa tooru was by far the worst person i've ever dated but he never leaves my mind. i say his name like a pray in my sleep to this day but he was calling me jolene even while we dated.

taking another guess, i'll say that him and his girlfriend have been dating for months even though we broke up weeks ago.

i cant quite tell why i want him back. he treated me like shit when he was around others. he laughed with his friends as i was having a panic attack. he shattered my phone because i was "cheating on him". i can't recall a single thing he did that screamed "i love you with all my life".

because he never loved me. i was just some entertainment for him. but i fell hard.

#jolene #haikyuu!!#angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oikawa #hurt/no comfort #hq #hq!!#hq!! angst #oikawa toru #oikawa #oikawa torū #oikawa x y/n #oikawa drabble #hq oikawa #oikawa angst #oikawa toru x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru

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reikuto · 2 years

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⋆ฺ｡*:･CONTENT! bokuto koutarou x gender neutral reader. bokuto’s pov. angst. takes place four years after part 1. WARNINGS! cursing. A/N! this is heavily inspired by bad habit by steve lacy + when harry met sally lol. also this is part 2 of graduation aches, pt 1 is here and pt3 is here･: *｡ฺ⋆

CURSING UNDER HIS BREATH, bokuto koutarou looks down at his wrist for the time, 10:42pm. he pulls out his phone and types out another set of apologies to send to his friends. it’s been way too long since he’s gone out and he’d be a liar if he said he hasn’t been itching to wind down with a couple beers. however, he should’ve never assumed he’d wake up from his power nap on time, especially after a particularly exhausting practice. now he’s an hour late - not that kuroo and akaashi would mind, but it meant less time bokuto has to spend with them.

luckily, bokuto isn’t so easily deterred, having faith in his ability to make it to the bar in under thirty minutes. spamming a couple emojis - to which kuroo replied with ‘stop texting and start running’ - bokuto shoves his phone in his pocket once he feels the train steadily come to a stop. as soon as the doors slide open, bokuto’s zipping off the train as if his life depended on it.

in his peripheral, he catches a glimpse of a familiar face walking past him. was that - no, doesn’t matter, i’m late! bokuto continues walking toward the escalator but comes to a sudden halt, his curiosity ultimately getting the best of him. turning around, bokuto watches as the individual boards the train, staring at the back of their head and ignoring the anxious churn in his stomach at the possibility that he wasn’t just imagining things. when they turn around and take their seat, he swears his heart skips a couple beats at the sight of you.

i was right, bokuto exhaled a breath, watching as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. you’ve got your head down, your attention focused solely on your phone. you look good; your hair’s longer than it was in high school and the way you carry yourself is different. had you grown too? you look the slightest bit taller. of course your face had matured, sure, but it was the same nonetheless.

bokuto could never forget that face.

the bar completely slips his mind as he boards the train again. except now that you’re less than ten feet away from him, bokuto realizes he has no idea how to approach you. in fact, he realizes he has absolutely no idea what to say and this was stupid, and he should get off while he still can. the doors sliding shut behind him let him know that it’s too late to back out. he finds it funny how even after four years, your proximity still makes him nervous. the feelings he had for you easily come surging back into his chest at the sight of you smiling at your screen.

sensing his gaze, you look up from your phone and your smile drops.

the two of you stare at one another in silence, shocked at the sudden reunion. you’re the first to move, standing up and slowly taking off your ear buds, almost as if you’re afraid you’ll scare him off. the stare off only lasts a few more seconds before bokuto’s breaking out into a grin. laughing joyously, he gives into his instincts when he steps forward and scoops you up into a tight embrace, just as he would four years ago. you laugh along with him, tossing your arms around him and squeezing him back.

when he puts you down, he catches sight of an elderly woman glaring at the two of you for being loud. normally, he’d apologize but right now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “i can’t believe you’re here!” bokuto exclaims, hands on your shoulders and eyes full of child-like wonder. “you came back?”

bokuto vividly remembers the day he learned that you had left to purse college in america. of course he was happy for you, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. he had pushed off asking you out for months and just when he had built enough courage to go through with it, he found out you were in another continent. as any normal person would, he often wondered if things would’ve been different had he confessed before you left. would you have stayed in japan with him? would you two still be together? would your relationship have survived long distance? that was years ago, when he was still young and would fall into a mood at the thoughts of what could’ve been. he likes to think he’s matured since then.

but that didn’t matter now, you were here!

“i graduated last week and i decided to visit.” you sigh, and he’s quick to notice the way your eyes glance over his features. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you looked almost sad. “i didn’t expect to run into anyone.”

“are you doing anything? i was just about to get a couple beers with some friends, you should join!” bokuto eagerly suggested. kuroo and akaashi wouldn’t mind, if anything they’d be thrilled to meet the girl bokuto had been fawning over during high school. “i’d love to catch up!”

“i would but i’ve gotta be up early. i’m announcing my engagement to my parents tomorrow.”

bokuto feels his heart sink to the very bottom of his stomach. your engagement? he tries his hardest not to let his face reveal his devastation, keeping a smile plastered on his lips at the news. “you’re engaged? wow, congratulations!”

“yeah, he actually proposed right after we graduated.” you hold out your hand to reveal the pretty band on your finger. you stare at the engagement ring with what bokuto thinks is a frown, but that can’t be right. “we came to japan to tell my parents.”

“we? he’s here too?”

“oh yeah but he had to solve some issue with our rental. i just came out to get us some dinner.” you explain, finally looking away from your ring to gesture to the takeout bag on the seat beside yours. “his favorite, yakiniku. is it still your favorite too?”

“yeah, it is.” bokuto laughed, looking down at his feet. this has to be some cruel joke. “i’m surprised you still remember.”

“of course, bo, you used to talk about craving it all the time.” you tease. “i don’t think i could forget even if i tried.”

“good, i’m glad that fact is permanently engraved in your brain.”

you don’t immediately respond, seeming content with just gazing at him. bokuto almost cries out for you to stop looking at him with those eyes. bokuto feels himself lean in, feels the urge to just give in and just kiss you; cup your pretty face and—no, enough, you’re engaged!

fuck, why were you engaged?

“i’m playing volleyball professionally.” bokuto says abruptly, putting a reasonable distrance between the two of you. he needs to the conversation to keep moving, needs a way to suffocate his impulses.

“i know,” you scoff softly. “i’ve watched all your games so far.”

“what?” bokuto’s eyes widen a fraction. could you be any more perfect? “you have?”

“yeah, my mom told me when you had made the team and i’ve been tuning in since.” you reveal with a shrug, as if it were no big deal. “besides, i had to brag to all my friends that i went to high school with the bokuto koutarou.”

“wow, i can’t believe you’d do that for me.” bokuto grins, running a hand through his hair. “thank you for your support!”

“always, bo.” you smile softly as the train slowly eases into the station. “well…this is my stop. can we get a rain check on the drinks? we’ll be happy to join you guys once our affairs are in order.”

“no, yeah, of course.” bokuto nods, internally cringing at your use of ‘we’. you’re already a ‘we’? fuck the ‘we’, i just want you. “i can’t wait to meet the lucky winner.”

“winner?” you hum in amusement as you step off the train, turning around to face bokuto, who doesn’t get off. “you make it sound like there was competition.”

“there definitely was. who knows, if i had gone through with asking you out, i could’ve been the lucky winner.” bokuto laughs, but it wasn’t funny. bokuto felt fucking sick. he knew better than to project his feelings onto you but it slipped out before he could stop himself. “…or you know, a runner up.” so much for being mature

apparently you didn’t think it was funny either, because you’re looking at him as if he had just told you he had some terminal illness. “what?”

“it’s nothing, i was just…being stupid.“ bokuto waves it off. “anyway, i’m really happy for you. congratulations again on the engagement!”

before you got a chance to reply, the doors of the train slide shut and bokuto finds himself exhaling in relief that he didn’t have to explain that final comment. planting another fake smile on his face as the train starts moving, he waves you goodbye. it isn’t until you’re completely out of sight that he let his smile drop, feeling the knot form in his throat. pulling out his phone, he sends another text to his friends,

not gonna make it tn, sorry

#[🍹] bokuto bae!#bokuto koutaro x reader #sfw #[🍹] haikyu!#haikyu!#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!!#hq!! angst

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pendraechon · 2 years

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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲.

summary: you and akaashi have been together for a long time. things are fine. just fine. but someone has to break eventually, right?

word count: 0.7k

warning(s): angst, no comfort. akaashi’s been a bad boyfriend.

a/n: idk weird way to start off my journey but here we are. i feel like akaashi wouldn’t be the type to confront a problem in a relationship even if it was decaying

akaashi knows he can't keep doing this to you.

the sigh he lets out does little to alleviate the guilt that crushes him as he realizes he has to cancel your plans once more. he feels numb as he slowly picks up his phone. numb as he dials your number. waits for you to pick up.

the ringing in his ear is damn near haunting. it feels like a lifetime before you pick up, but in reality was probably only a few seconds. "hey, keiji," you say. there's a musicality to your voice, a buoyancy that he had nearly forgotten as the past months became missed date after missed date. "are you almost home?"

the question nearly breaks him. there's faint upbeat music playing in the background, and he can picture the scene in his head.

you, sitting at your vanity in the apartment you two share, bundled in a fluffy robe. music plays cheerily from the old turntable you two found in a record shop during one of your first dates. different brands of makeup are messily piled on your desk as you prepare for the evening. the outfit you had picked out last night is laid out on the bed, and the humidity from the shower is slowly seeping into the bedroom. he can almost smell your perfume. the simple signs of domesticity taunt him, just out of reach.

"hey," he says quietly. he swallows, his throat suddenly dry. his mouth opens, but no more words come out.

you hear it in his tone. despite the distance that has slowly crept into your relationship, you know this part of the game all too well.

the music stops.

"can't make it tonight?" you ask neutrally. he suppresses a shudder at the sudden absence of happiness, knows it's all his fault.

"i'm sorry," he says mechanically. "i need to review this manuscript so i can prepare for tomorrow’s meeting. we can reschedule for next week-"

"it's okay, keiji," you say wearily. the days have weathered you down into a shuffling lump of resigned acceptance. "i'll call the restaurant and cancel our reservation." the word again goes unspoken, but both of you hear it loud and clear.

“i’m sorry,” he says once more. “i love you.” it’s the only thing he can think to say at this point. he waits for a response, but it’s not the exact one he wants.

“i know,” you hum. the line goes dead.

the rest of his shift is spent with a crumpled focus. his motions are automatic, and by the time he gets in his car to leave, he can’t remember the last piece he had been reading.

when he comes home later that night, the apartment is dark and cold. his mumbled, "tadaima," goes without a response.

he knows he shouldn't be disappointed. the days where you used to wait up for him are long over; how often could he ask you to stay up this late? it was fine when it was one night every few months. but as his job demanded more, the more he caved in. one night a month became one night a week, and soon he was working overtime nearly every day.

he can't keep doing this to you, or to himself.

he creeps into the bedroom, just barely able to make out your shape on the bed. a strange relief settles over him then. he hadn’t even realized he’d been so tense. he needs you here with him, even now when he’s so effectively pushed you away. he exhales quietly to release the tension and crosses the room to the bathroom.

once he finishes preparing for bed, he silently lowers himself down next to you under the covers, trying his best not to disturb you despite the fatigue screaming at him to plop down. your breathing is even enough, but he can't quite tell if you're asleep or not. he reaches a hand out to your side, hesitates. wonders when he started to hesitate touching you.

the desire to hold you outweighs his consideration. he wraps his arm around your side and buries his face in your neck.

you shift a bit in his hold. "keiji," you sigh sleepily. "okaeri."

"i'm sorry if i woke you," he says softly.

you don't respond. you're silent for so long, he begins to wonder if you've fallen asleep again. but just as he begins to drift off, you speak once more.

"i love you, keiji,” you whisper. it’s the affectionate remark you’d struggled to give on the phone, he notes. his heart lifts, only to drop at your next words. “i can't do this anymore."

with that, you sit up and slip out of his grip.

#dryad writes #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x you #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji angst #akaashi angst #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu!! angst #hq!!#hq!! x reader #hq!! x you #hq!! angst #unsweetened sap

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chimielie · 1 year

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there are many benefits to being a marine biologist

summary: Goshiki x F!Reader. Ponyo!AU. one part fairytale, one part growing up, one part love language exploration. you fall in love with a human boy and then move mountains to find him again.

word count: 8.7k

cw: nothing. gets better as it progresses imo

a/n: i started writing this maybe two years ago for a contest held by two users who are now both inactive i think? the outline for this planned for like two more acts, but i thought it should stop rotting in the drafts and i like it as is now. i do have quite a lot of worldbuilding not in the fic (mostly regarding goshiki's family, who i named after the original ponyo characters lol) so please, if you happen to read this and have questions about this little story that's been living in my head, feel free to ask :)

The day before he finds you, it storms like the world is going to end.

Seawater washes into the road as the sea swells in thick knots, rising and never quite falling as far as it should. Blooms of white—foam and algae and debris, and drowned souls if folklore was to be believed—swirl on the surface, which waits to break against the cliffs until the wave inflates to grotesque proportions, as though it’s a fist hammering against a wall. The wind tries to match the hysteric sea’s beat, and comes screaming in from the horizon, wrapping around whatever it finds in its path if it cannot blow through it and squeezing like a python. With it blows in the fog, until the atmosphere brings a river of milk, writhing over the pine islands so they become black spikes against which the ocean hammers.

Tsutomu stands against the back door of his home on the cliff, hands pressed to the glass, careful not to let his breath obscure his vision any further than the mist already was. Even inside the house—where the air is still warm, where the wind can’t creep in—he can hear the crash of waves and the shriek of the typhoon, even if they’re reduced to a low-crooning song punctuated by the steady rhythm of his mother’s voice.

“Transmitting from JA4LL. JA4LL. Come in, Koichi. This is Risa and Tsutomu.”

She’s been speaking steadily into the microphone for a few minutes already, and Tsutomu pads over to press his cheek into her side, fists his hands into her shirt while she pats him on the head. When the headset crackles to life, he jumps and she doesn’t. His parents’ voices wash over him warmly, and he relaxes, hoping the weather will calm soon so they can all go to Tashirojima together.

Sound asleep in a bubble deep beneath the sea, you don’t even know that there’s a storm on the surface.

“Wake up, girls.” You wake when your father speaks to you, swim eagerly to the border of filmy water and press your nose to it in a sort of nuzzling good morning kiss. “I—yes, good morning, hello—I said I’d take you all to work with me today, if you’d like—stop pressing on the bubble, you’ll pop it!”

You do happy flips when you’re let out of the little aquarium, linger at the back of the school of your sisters as your father quickly becomes engrossed in his work. He’s often distracted and always scatterbrained, but centuries of experience have made him an expert at marine wizardry. There’s little he loves more than his work, except perhaps your family, but he’s unfamiliar with the care and keeping of young goldfish and your mother is away right now.

This is how you slip away: with discretion from your sisters, distraction from your father, and a rush of excitement you’ve felt almost never in your entire life. It’s not that you don’t love your family, that you want to run away; it’s just that your sisters are all still babies, freshly hatched, and you get bored in the little bubble, always having to watch your father work and never getting to do anything. There’s no room for anxiety in your fish-body as you swim towards the surface, wriggling your fins frantically and buoying yourself with upward currents whenever possible.

The first sight of sunlight streaming through the aqua is mesmerizing, and you kick doubly hard for the remainder of the journey.

The surface is the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen. Exhausted from the swim, you flop onto your back on top of a passing jellyfish and stare in wonder at the coastline. There’s a road, and little metal vehicles crossing it, and houses tucked into every crevice in the hills. There are jagged cliffs that look like they were hewn in half by some godly hand (one of your uncles, maybe). And on top of the tallest cliff, there’s a little house, so small you can hardly see it, yellow and red and white, and you find yourself fascinated by it.

When he wakes, Tsutomu finds himself in bed, his eyes stuck together with leftover sleep. He remembers, just barely, being carried by his mother’s strong arms to his room, the press of her lips to his forehead. It’s not an unusual occurrence, so he starts his day as usual. Breakfast is leftovers from the fridge, his mother is still half-asleep sipping coffee at the breakfast table (she’s always groggier after a late night up speaking to his father), and he walks down the path to the beach, carefully balancing his favorite toy—a beach ball light enough for him to carry and shaped like a volleyball—in his arms.

It’s clear today, almost like there was never a storm at all. The sky is a cheerful blue dotted with puffy white clouds, the temperature warm enough to only require a t-shirt, not cold enough to make him uncomfortable. The sun shines down on the beach with a smile, the morning light nearly shining a spotlight on the red lump just above the waterline.

“Eh?” Tsutomu says to himself, walking closer and struggling to peer past the bulge of his volleyball. He sets it down carefully, stopping it from rolling away with his foot, and bends at the waist to look closely at you.

You stare, eyes bulging, back up at him. A little boy, the likes of which you’ve never seen before, fringe falling into his face, is the most magical thing you’ve ever seen.

“A goldfish!” He declares triumphantly as he identifies you. “Hello, Miss Goldfish.”

You flap a fin at him as best you can. He giggles and scoops you up in both hands, wading into the water and holding you just beneath the surface so you won’t dry out. You spin in his hands, and nuzzle his chubby palm.

“Tsutomu!” Someone calls from above. “Time to go!”

“That’s my mom,” Tsutomu says to you. “We’re going to work at the senior center. Well, she’s going to work, and I get to go to school right next to there, ‘cause I’m five years old.” He adopts a wise expression. Five is the oldest he’s ever been, and it feels very big. You splash. Me too! Me too! “It was nice to meet you, Miss Fish. My name is Tsutomu. I hope I see you again. Bye bye!”

He lets go of you gently, and turns to find that his ball has rolled into the water, a little too deep for him to reach without soaking his clothes. You, still watching the curious human boy, see the frown on his face, the tremble of his lips and watery eyes, and dart off quickly. When he looks down, you’re gone. He stands on the sand in front of the ball, watching it float further away, listening to his mother’s increasingly aggravated shouting for him to come up from the beach, and feels stuck with the tide of unhappiness rising in him. He reaches up with one fist to wipe at his watering eyes.

Shock overwhelms him when a stream of water hits the ball, pushing it against the current, intermittent splash carrying it all the way back to shore. His eyes stop watering from the pure amazement of it all as he watches a little red spark flash with every spurt of water, and he has to shake himself before wading back in to grab it.

“Thank you, Miss Goldfish,” he cheers when he finally lifts the ball clear of the surf. “You’re amazing!”

There’s nothing but pure childish admiration in the words, which makes you as happy as he is. You like this boy! He thinks you’re amazing!

You flip in the air, coming down with a splash that sends droplets of saltwater all the way to Tsutomu, who shields his face and twists his whole torso away with shrieking laughter.

“Tsutomu!” You say happily. He untwists to look at you, bobbing in the water.

“You said my name! You really are amazing!”

“Tsutomu!” You cheer, and then again for good measure.

“Tsutomu!” His mother roars, coming into view on the beach, and her ferocious tone hardly seems to dent his mood.

“I have to go now. Thank you a lot, Miss Goldfish,” he waves at you and begins walking back to his mother, who’s standing with her hands on her hips and her lips set in a scowl.

“Tsutomu!” You say in farewell, and begin the swim back home.

“Mom, I made a friend! I saw a goldfish, and she talks, too. She said my name! Isn’t that so cool?” Tsutomu bounces up to his mother with his fists clenched and raised in the air, as though he’s declaring victory, and her irritation dissipates almost immediately. She laughs and swings him up onto her shoulders.

“That is cool, but we’re going to be late. Think I can drive over before they open the drawbridge?”

You’re lucky your father doesn’t notice and you know it. For the rest of the month, you listen attentively as he explains, half-mumbled and face pressed up against a blackboard, the things he believes children ought to know: potionmaking, mostly, the way that those potions affect the environment, and the filthiness of humans. You try your best to be good, but you file as much information about magic away as you can and know in the deepest depths of your heart that it’s so you can see Tsutomu again.

You sneak away again, maybe every month, and rarely have to wait longer than a few hours for Tsutomu to come rushing down the path from his house, huge smile on his face, shedding his backpack and shoes. During low tide, he can reach what becomes a tide pool, and often he shows you things from his day-to-day life. You love hearing him talk, sometimes practicing human speech by following along with his words. He gives you a name, better than the one your father calls you, you think, shaping it in your mouth. While you watch with great interest, you never bring him anything.

You are a fish, after all.

As the years pass, your visits to the surface become more infrequent. You worry about your human-hating father catching you, and your education has intensified as you age. Your little sisters are starting to grow up and, though they’re still captivated by stories of your Tsutomu, you worry about fostering jealousy of the dry world in them. One daughter your father may not notice missing for a day, but where one of your sisters go, almost all the rest will follow.

“What does Y/N mean?” You ask innocently one day, when the two of you are eight years old. You bob in the water, and he sits on a rock, the surf spraying up around him but never reaching high enough to soak him.

“Mm,” he says, looking down and kicking at a pebble. “Beloved.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know,” his grin is childish, and the effect is only lightly diminished by the way he’s clearly struggling to maintain eye contact with you. You splash him, and he shrieks and falls into the water. Both of you come up giggling. Whatever the true meaning of his name for you, you know that whenever he says it, that’s what he means; and that is all that matters.

Although he waits patiently for you for many years, Tsutomu tells you one day with a serious face that he’s going to be going to school further away, in Sendai, and will have less time to spend watching out for you. You have a year left before this happens, he says, so your visits resume a near monthly routine. Sometimes, you simply spend hours after he’s left staring at the house on the cliff and imagining living there with Tsutomu and loving him the way he tells you his mom and dad love each other.

When he leaves for school, crying a little while you blink up at him, you absorb yourself in your studies. When you really, really miss him, you swim up to the surface and remind yourself that someday, you’ll be old and strong enough to live up there with Tsutomu. The next time he sees you, he’s twelve years old. People call him Goshiki-kun, not Tsutomu-chan, and his voice cracks when he speaks. On the train ride home from school, he worries that you’ll laugh at him, like his peers do, that the way he’ll surely tear up upon seeing you is unmanly.

It’s July, the month of salt-making rituals, and this becomes the marker of your visits to Tsutomu. To his immense relief, you still call him by his first name, you don’t laugh when his voice breaks, you throw your whole body at him to smack his cheek like you’re trying to hug him with your fins. You missed him as much as he missed you, he can tell, and the both of you spend hours catching up. You get two more years before disaster strikes.

The day you’re due to visit the surface, it storms again. You know what lightning is, now, know the acrid scent of sky-fire splitting the air, the brutal strength of riptides and currents. When you break into the air, you find that a gray mist lingers over the bay and the mood of the few people you see appears dismal. When you look up to Tsutomu’s house and see that it shines as cheerfully yellow as always, that yellow and red seems to creep into your bones until you feel sure that everything is alright. This is a kind of magic your father has not yet taught you.

This has always been your secret, safe harbor. You don’t expect anything to go wrong here—not when you’re accustomed to submarine chemical vents and shining anglerfish in the deep blue depths. Here it has always seemed safe, calm, kind.

You learn today why your father despises his former kin so much.

There’s silt in the water, probably stirred up by the storm that took away the cheeriness of the sky. One fish swims by you, its eyes bulging frantically. Then another, and another. It’s only when an entire school passes in the same direction that you hear the ship coming closer and realize that you should probably be heading that way yourself.

You’re too late, and so are the rest of them—something huge, bigger than the mouth of a whale, you think it must be, traps you, pressing you together with sifting mud and other scales and glass, like your father’s bottles. You try to move your tail and push yourself out, but you’re packed so tightly in with a million others doing the same that the action is impossible.

You’re starting to panic.

Then, the boat attached to the net you’re in swings around, taking you and everyone else with it, and you find yourself face to face with a glass jar. Worse, you find yourself slowly being pushed into it by the sheer unluckiness of your position and the crush of animals trying to escape the churning mud and human garbage.

You push more frantically than before, thrashing your entire body violently.

“No, no, no, no!” You wail, the words bubbling in the water. Then you fall through a gap in the net.

Unable to right yourself in time, you find yourself stuck halfway into the jar, and your wriggling only makes it worse.

You can’t—you can’t breathe. This was a mistake. You’re so scared.

You have to take the last resort. You send up a prayer to your mother—please, don’t let him be too angry—and send out a spell with the last bit of energy you have. A signal that will ripple all the way to your father.

You run out of oxygen, and everything goes black.

Tsutomu has been waiting a long time by the beach. He got up early to watch the sunrise, carrying a thermos of hot tea with him as he sat by the water and wondered what your life was like through the months you don’t see him. As he wakes more fully and the air starts to warm (though not by much) he walks alongside the waterline, testing how far he could go in without getting the hem of his pants wet, how long his toes could stand immersion in the cold seawater. He ponders why you keep visiting him, year after year, bringing him good luck and sunny skies.

You’re more to him than a symbol, though; you’re amazing.

As he settles himself, he starts to walk back to the tidepools, hoping you’ll be there. He knows it’s a little early for your visit, but you’re unpredictable; besides, he’s sure you care about your weird human friend as much as he cares about his fishy one.

Near the stairs, something rolls on the sand, flashing gold. Tsutomu squints at it, then picks up his pace. Shit, shit, is that—

It is. He picks up the jar, lips pressing into a pout when he sees that you’re unmoving. He runs up the steps to his home, taking them two at a time, all the while talking to you like you can hear him through the glass barrier.

He collects a bucket and stands next to the garden hose, trying to shake you out of your jar. He thinks that it would require too much force than would be safe to get you out, but you’re clearly suffocating in there. He squats on his heels, turning the jar over in his hands and wracking his brain for a solution.

“Tsutomu, you’re gonna be late for practice!” His mom rounds the corner, startling him, and he drops you. “Tsutomu—what was that?”

You’re out of the jar, but now you’re lying in pieces of shattered glass. Eyes round in distress, Tsutomu snatches you up and plops you into the full bucket of water.

“Nothing,” he says, voice suspiciously shaky.

“Okay, well, we’ve gotta go, so get in the car now.” She jerks her thumb towards the vehicle. He nods and peeks into your bucket. You stare up at him, as alert as ever, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

In the car, you swim happily in circles, raising your head out of the bucket to peer out the window.

“What’s in the bucket?” His mom says with interest, and he presses a hand over the opening of the bucket, trying not to giggle as you nuzzle his palm.

“It’s for a group science project—Mom, watch out, you’re gonna make it spill!” She side-eyes him, knowing her son has never been so conscientious of a school project or of his own messes before, but lets it slide. There’s no point in prying when there are only so many options to be found on the beach. The worst that can happen is that he lightly traumatizes some sea creature, and she doubts that Tsutomu’s conscience and childhood obsession with marine life could let him do that. Besides, she smiles to herself. The sea is basically in his blood.

Tsutomu rushes out of the car, managing only a “Thanks-Mom-love-you-goodbye!” before he’s dashing to the gym, gaze bouncing between your bucket and the ground to avoid tripping so fast watching his eyes makes you dizzy.

He sets you down on the bench closest to the court.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He whispers, picking you up to make sure there’s no glass embedded in your skin.

“I’m okay!” You beam up at him. “Tsutomu rescued me!”

He smiles at that, blushing faintly, pretty eyes squinting, and you pop out of the water to splash him lightly.

“Hey, I have to practice in this,” he frowns.

“Sorry,” you say, abashed, but he shoots you a small smile and you know it’s alright.

Listening to Tsutomu explain volleyball is entirely different from watching him play it. You didn’t really understand it when he spoke, before, but now you understand the difference between a fishing net and a volleyball one, as well as other crucial aspects of the game. There’s a lot of yelling, and squeaking, and it’s a little hard to see from inside your bucket, but you don’t mind. You bob up every so often, trying to find Tsutomu on the court, though it’s hard when he moves around so much.

At one point, he jumps up and slams down the ball in what’s clearly a perfect line even to the untrained eye. Around him, his teammates burst into cheers (“Nice going, bowlcut!) and you get so excited you mimic them, whooping and doing a flip in the air.

“Eh? What was that?” Someone you can’t see says, and then Tsutomu is there, grinning widely at you from above, eyes watering slightly.

“Oi, Goshiki,” a boy with hair as red as your scales slides an arm around him. “What’s this you’ve got?”

Tsutomu opens his mouth, but you beat him to it, using the name he gave you without a second thought.

“Huh? Wow, you have a smart goldfish! Reon, come check out Goshiki’s goldfish!”

Reon simply looks at you and says, “Cool.”

“Be nicer!” The redhead says, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “She can talk!”

“I can talk!” You echo. Reon repeats cool, unfazed.

“What are we looking at, Tendō?” A boy whose shirt reads Yamagata slows his jogging to a stop, one hand running through his hair as he looks at the red bucket.

“This is Y/N,” Tsutomu says. “I found her on the beach.”

“Are you going to eat that?” A voice deeper than the others makes you poke your head further out of the water than before. It’s a boy like the others, with greenish hair and a huge stature. He reminds you, oddly, of your mother. Big and bea-uti-ful!

“No!” Tsutomu yelps. “No, we won’t! Ushijima-senpai, sir,” he adds, voice calming to a lower pitch as he does.

“Are you sure?” Asks Tendō, a sly expression crossing his face. Tsutomu pushes him away hastily and steps protectively in front of you.

“Yes! I mean no! I mean—”

“Alright,” Ushijima-senpai says slowly. “Welcome to our practice, then. I hope you enjoy watching volleyball.”

“Enjoy!” You do another flip. “Watching Ushijima-senpai!”

“Okay—” Tsutomu says, picking up your bucket, looking around as he tries to find his way out of the circle of boys.

“What’s wrong with your fish?” A boy with long bangs and pointy features grabs the bucket and peers at you. You don’t like this pointy human. “Why is it talking?”

You say nothing, hollowing your cheeks in preparation to spit at him.

“Give her back,” Tsutomu narrows his eyes. “Careful, Shirabu.”

“Is no one else concerned about the talking goldfish?” Shirabu looks around at his upperclassmen. “What the fuck, Goshiki?”

“He’s right,” Ushijima says thoughtfully. “The fish could be a spy. For Karasuno, perhaps.”

“What?” Shirabu’s outraged yell is shortly cut off by Tsutomu’s fearful-yet-determined denial that you would ever do such a thing to him or to Shiratorizawa.

A deep sigh, sounding somewhat like it’s exhaling the speaker’s entire soul, interrupts them both.

“Can we please stop staring at Goshiki’s pet and get back to practice?” A boy with ash blond hair says, and immediately, a few of the others nod and disperse.

“She’s not a pet,” Ushijima says, while Tsutomu splutters incoherently. “Or sushi. She’s a friend of Goshiki. But you’re right, we should be practicing.”

“T-thank you, Ushijima,” Tsutomu says haltingly, eyes shining in admiration. “I really appreciate it!” The captain only needs to look back at him, his face unsmiling but not at all unfriendly, for him to continue. “And I apologize for distracting everyone, I’ll get back to work now! Thank you!”

The rest of practice goes smoothly, although you get a few lingering stares and an odd few minutes of interrogation from Shirabu while they’re on their break. He tries to explain that you can talk, and this is bad, and it’s a demon, to an old man with white hair, who merely hums when he looks at you and tells him to do an extra fifteen laps as a punishment for talking nonsense about magical goldfish.

Once the games have all finished and Goshiki’s changed into street clothing, though, something horrible happens. He’s picking you up, ready to transport you to his mother’s workplace so you can drive home, but then someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles, water sloshing over the sides of the bucket, and lifts up the bucket to his chest to prevent any further instability.

“Goshiki-kun,” a girl human says. “Could I speak to you outside?”

“Ouuuu,” you hear Tendō’s voice from across the gym. “Little bowl cut is receiving a confession?”

“Uh, um, yes, you can,” he says, and when you turn his cheeks are scarlet. “Let me just pack up the rest of my things, and I’ll m-meet you out there.”

“Sounds good!” She says, and you don’t like the cheery note of her voice or the way she brushes her hand against his bicep. You make a face up at Tsutomu, but he doesn’t seem to notice, lost in his own head.

You swim all the way to the bottom of the bucket, only to feel him poking you not a minute later.

“Don’t be grumpy,” he says. “Please? It’ll be just a second.”

You flap a fin at him and make an enthusiastic noise.

It is not, in fact, a second. You wait for an eternity (and you know about eternities) for the girl to stop stuttering her way through telling Tsutomu that she thinks he’s really smart, and she likes his bowl cut, and you can just see the word amazing forming on her lips before she says it. Her hand is stretching out, dropping something shiny into his hand, and you hate it, you hate it, you hate it.

You act before you think. Your cheeks puff up and you take a big breath in and then there’s water, all over her pretty pink cardigan. She shrieks and then starts to cry a little, and you stick out your tongue and blow a raspberry at her before diving back down, flipping your tail with sass as you go.

“I’m really sorry,” Tsutomu says frantically, offering her a wrinkled handkerchief. “It was an accident, I swear. I-I really appreciate your confession and, um, I’m glad you were comfortable enough soo that you could come to me, but, oh! My mom’s here, I have to go! Bye!”

You swivel and watch as he picks you up and bolts away; her tears seem to have dried a bit as she stares after him in bewilderment. Not for the first time, you wish you had two legs and hands to hold onto Tsutomu. You wish that you could stay on shore with him, and keep away all the girls like her forever.

You know it’s childish, but you don’t care. Does it matter that it’s an immature thought when it’s completely impossible?

In the car, Tsutomu is quiet. Even his mother seems to notice his pensive aura, and frames her questions about his day carefully to avoid sounding like she’s prying.

“What’s that?” She asks, and he unclenches his hand, looking as mystified by the object in his palm as you feel. It’s a pin, gold and pink and shaped like a heart. “Oh, my gosh, is that from your girlfriend, Tsutomu?”

“No,” he says immediately. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

You frown, bumping the red walls of the bucket, and he trails his fingers through the water. Something coppery floods your senses, and you dart over to nuzzle his hand instinctively. In his palm, there’s an angry red mark, oozing little droplets of blood. When you poke it, he winces.

It tastes weird when you lick it.

“Hey!” He jerks his hand out of the water. “Whoa.”

Where Tsutomu knew he had been pricked by the pin a few minutes ago, there’s no sign of injury, even though the water surrounding you still has a faint tint in places. You watch him with round eyes, and he offers you a smile and a pat on the head. Amazing.

“What did you think, Y/N?” You stick out your tongue.

“Girlfriends suck,” is your opinion. “Pbbbt.”

The wind blows the longer strands of Tsutomu’s straight hair to the side as he stands next to the garden hose, refilling your bucket with fresh water. Above you, the sky is a weak blue, it’s brighter shades concealed by layers of white mist. A lush, slightly overgrown garden is what hides behind the picket fence you can see from the seashore, full of plants that look so familiar to the kelp forests you’re used to, yet so different. The upper lands are so strange. You’re glad Tsutomu’s mom doesn’t keep her garden dry and cut into shrubbery, like some of the houses you saw on the way to his school.

“Who are you?” Tsutomu’s voice is stiff, like his form as he drops you into the now-full bucket of fresh water while you crane your neck to see past his legs.

“Where is she?” Booms a voice you know all too well. It cuts off when he sees you, lips pursed while you try to look as inconspicuous as possible. “Captured by a human boy? Bad, that’s very bad. Give her here—“

“No!” Your friend yelps. “You want to take her? Y/N, I’ll protect you.”

“Protection?” Your father sneers, his hair puffing up threateningly. “I felt her signal for help—very good, by the way, your spellwork is coming along nicely. Give her here, now, I’ll be drying out soon.”

“I don’t care! Y/N wouldn’t do that, we’re friends,” Tsutomu says, casting a glance down at you. You nod, your tongue feeling stuck.

“My daughter would not befriend a human—“

“Y/N loves Tsutomu!” You cry. A light blazes in his eyes at the words, and his posture straightens.

“And I love her!”

“Eh?” Your father looks between the two of you. “That’s nonsense, Brunhilda, you know what humans are like, and what’s a Y/N, anyway?”

“It’s me!” You flip in the air, surging with defiant energy. “It’s my name.”

You choke midsentence as a hand closes around you; the world goes up in bubbles, and all you can hear is Tsutomu screaming your name, over and over.

Over.

And over.

“Again!” You sigh and twitch your fins lazily, watching with hooded eyes as lines only you can see race across the model mountain, glowing faintly before they settle into the material. The warding spell is clean and simple, requiring no complicated incantations or strange ingredients. However, it needs time to sink in, and when a hermit crab scuttles over the map and right onto your now-invisible lines, the whole thing goes up in a puff of smoke.

“Y/N,” your father says sternly, having given up on Brunhilda some time ago, when you refused to answer to it. “This is meant to be a demonstration for your sisters. These spells require layering, you know, one spell to ward and a secondary spell to, in a way, ward that ward. This creates an effect…”

You say nothing, merely letting a current of water roll you onto your side, your eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling. You can feel the sympathetic gaze of your father—you know that he didn’t intend for this to happen. He only wanted to save you; he couldn’t have known that Tsutomu wasn’t the threat. You know he worries about you when he thinks you can’t hear him. You hear his every prayer for your mother to come back, to make things right, to help you see things his way. It’s only on the third point that he loses you. You didn’t want things to be this way either.

When you lost Tsutomu, something inside you boiled up and nearly steamed over. You can only remember wanting to go back, to go home to him, desperately trying to rejoin him on land. You love your father, and you only want his understanding. He left behind his humanity for your mother; why can’t you gain it yourself for Tsutomu?

The lid had clamped down on that furiously bubbling emotion, and in response it had gone to sleep, simmering but never fully boiling away. At first, you had been unmotivated even to eat or wake when your sisters did. Four years later, you still miss him: you go about your day to day life just fine, but you lack your childhood verve.

Even now, you can feel yourself slipping into slumber, exhausted by just a few minutes of magic. Your father’s voice and the clamor of your sisters meld into a comforting hum, lulling you further. You barely register the feeling of your father carrying you to your aquarium, the whisper of his goodnight lost on your drowsing mind.

When he was fourteen, Tsutomu’s mother found him in the garden. There was a wet trail leading right off the bluffs, a red bucket lying on its side, and her son, sitting with his knees under his chin and crying his heart out. The garden hose was still on.

She didn’t ask what happened, just turned off the hose and crouched next to him, arm over his shoulders, until he looked up at her with puffy eyes and wordlessly followed her into the house.

Risa had always known that she could be a little sharp with her words, and so she used food to express herself more often when she wanted it to be soft and soothing. She mixed her son some tea, the way she had every time he’d gotten sick when he was little, slid two slices of bread into the toaster, and hoped that the warmth of what she gave him would travel into his heart and help it heal a bit. Tsutomu cried into the toast a little, once it had been lavished with butter and honey, but it was just sniffling and not silent sobs, so she didn’t mind much. Then they sat on the couch and she rubbed his back while old tapes of his very first volleyball games played on the TV.

Tsutomu never told her what had happened that day. He could tell that she was curious, but unwilling to pressure him, and he wasn’t sure how to explain it. She’d always spoken about you in the same manner most adults used to describe the imaginary friends of children, and correcting that assumption seemed beyond the dignity of the man he wanted her to see him as. He knew that she guessed that he’d knocked over the bucket and sent his fish back down into the sea, and it wasn’t an unreasonable explanation. Fourteen year old boys weren’t the most rational creatures, and he could very easily have been sent into a similar kind of spiral had the fish just been a regular goldfish. It wasn’t, though, and he’d never cried so hard over any girl since.

He misses you. Though it doesn’t ache as sharply as it did when the fear of facing off against your father was fresh in his mind, he still thinks of you with a pang of sadness. There had been a sense of belonging with you he knows was more than a fleeting feeling. He hopes you’re happy in the ocean, learning new magic and spending time with your sisters, and once you’re queen of the sea, maybe you’ll come visit him. He’ll show you his cross spike.

“Again!” Shirabu barks, and Tsutomu has no trouble complying. He empties himself of every concern outside of the game and slams down a serve, just outside of the zone he wants it to land in. Without prompting, he picks up another ball and does it again.

Over and over and over.

Electricity was already crackling in the air when he woke up.

Everything felt uncomfortable, like the pressure in the atmosphere would pop and the sky would fall down in flaming pieces around them. It’s gray, like it was the day you went home. You’ve been lingering even longer on his mind than usual, and he just hopes that the knot in his throat will go away if he hits enough perfect shots. It would probably help if his partner for the day weren’t allergic to acknowledging when he does something right.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Shirabu says. Tsutomu makes a face at him and serves one more ball, the sound of it hitting the ground echoing obnoxiously. These days, he and Shirabu are good friends, though they’re still hiding behind the thin veneer of antagonism they’d held for each other in their first years. Being teammates at Shiratorizawa means being bonded for life, after all. There’s no sense in fighting it. The powers that be (also known as Coach Washijō) are as inexorable as fate, after all.

During the school year, Tsutomu lived in the dorms, like most other academy students, but living a mere half hour ride away meant he often visited the school over summers, too. It’s a little bittersweet now to know that each day spent practicing in this gym could be his last; though he has some time before university begins, he’s not sure when graduates are supposed to lose access.

“I drove with my mom,” Tsutomu says, “so I’ll be meeting her at the senior center. You’re coming over to watch the Rockets game later, right?”

“Sure,” Shirabu says, slinging on his backpack. “I have to bring some homework, though, I have too much preliminary coursework already.”

“You asked for it, smartass,” teases his friend.

“That’s gonna be Doctor smartass to you.”

Despite the short walk between the academy and the senior center, Tsutomu is soaked by the time he walks inside. He’s careful when taking off his raincoat and shaking out his umbrella, placing it into the designated stand, stamping his boots on the absorbent mat a few times to be safe. Just past the welcome desk, he can see his mother, pushing rambunctious Mrs. Suzuki down the hall, probably to her daily bingo game, where she’ll fleece the other players just like she’s done every day for years. Mrs. Fukuyo is sitting near the terrace doors, gazing out of the big window at the wet world outside.

“Hello, Tsutomu-chan,” she says, beckoning him to sit down, taking his hand in both of hers. “Or should I say Goshiki? You’re an adult, now, aren’t you?”

“Basically,” he says, lifting his chin. “One more week.”

“Oh, yes, you’re very grown up,” she says. “I remember when you were just starting secondary school. You were a bit skinnier then, and you wouldn’t eat fish.”

Tsutomu flushes.

“A lot can happen in a week,” says Miss Itoh, who often plays Mrs. Suzuki’s partner in crime when she deigns to attend bingo, as she passes by. “You be careful, Tsutomu, with all this weather. It’s bad luck.”

“There’s always weather,” sniffs Mrs. Fukuyo. “And we need the rain.”

“I’ll take care, don’t worry,” Tsutomu says politely. “You do the same, please.”

“Good, good,” Miss Itoh sounds distracted. “Happy birthday. Keep out of the rain, you’ll get sick. And don’t go sailing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he stands to bow as she leaves the room.

“She’s crazy,” Mrs. Fukuyo sighs, half-joking. “But even a broken clock is right twice a day. You’re a good kid.”

“Thank you,” he says, stiff and awkward, cheeks glowing red.

“Tsutomu, there you are. Sorry to keep you waiting, I’m done now,” his mother lands a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Hello there, Mrs. Fukuyo. Doing well?”

“I am, thank you,” says the elderly woman. “Just telling your son what a strong man he’s grown up to be. He’ll take good care of his mother.”

“I will,” Tsutomu says with conviction. His mother’s pride beams down on him like the sun splitting the clouds.

“Thank you,” his mother says. “The storm rages on; we should probably go.”

“The roads aren’t safe,” says the the woman at the check-in desk as they prepare their rain gear to leave. “You should stay here for the night, Risa.”

Her jaw tightens. “I need to be there if Koichi radios in. We’ll make it just fine, don't you worry.”

On a nondescript day in August, you wake up.

Something tastes different on the current, and you feel almost like you’re regarding the world with new eyes again. You remember, with fierce and reckless abandon, what it is to love.

“Good morning,” you greet your sisters cheerily.

“Good morning!” They echo back, beaming at you. They feel it too, you can tell.

You eat your breakfast with gusto, examine your scales and scrub each until they shine. You kiss every sister you see on top of her red-gold head.

“I want to see Goshiki,” you tell your father, watching as his hair stands on end at the name, bracing yourself so the surprised jolt of power he emits doesn’t knock you down.

“No,” is all he can muster for a moment. “The human world isn’t safe. Look at what happened to you the last time you went up there.”

“I would have been fine because of Tsutomu,” you say, “And I’m even more powerful now than I was.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps back. “They taint everything they touch. You’d have to-to literally, actually become a human to return to the surface. I don’t want them taking you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You take a deep breath.

“Fine,” you say. “Then I’ll do it myself.”

You exhale with controlled force, closing your eyes and concentrating on the slow beat of cold blood in your veins.

“What are you doing?” Starts your father, nervously, but you don’t hear as you focus intently on the warmth spreading through you.

Pop!

You open your eyes, magic still swirling around you, and beam.

“Feet!” You chirp. “I have feet!” A little more pushing, and—

“Are those legs?” Your father shrieks. “Stop this right now!”

“No,” you say fiercely, and release an explosion of power so potent it rocks you backward. Seconds later, you realize that you’ve blasted a hole in the wall and the barrier ward; seawater rich with plankton rushes through, followed by barracuda with bulging eyes and squirming eels. You have hands, now, and something odd is happening to your scalp. You use one of the new extremities to reach tentatively up and pat your head.

“Hair!” Your sisters, freed from their own bubbles by the commotion, float around you. A shock of hair has sprouted from your scalp like a crop of coral. It tickles your forehead.

“I did it,” you say quietly, breathless. “I’m human.”

You look around for your father, but only see the tail end of him dashing into one of his back rooms, his nervous muttering echoing around the room.

Perhaps if you were human from the beginning, your mother would have taken you to the sea, held your hand as you beheld the glittering waves for the first time, and warned you never to turn your back on the ocean. Alas, you weren’t and she didn’t, so you fall with no resistance forward when a rush of water slams into your back, grinding your face into the floor and sweeping you away while you flail your little hands helplessly.

You’ve only felt so powerless in the water once before. Scrabbling for purchase as you freewheel through the halls of your home, you catch your fingers—there’s still a little rush of joy from it, you made them, you have fingers—on the spokes of a great wheel and cling for dear life. It creaks and turns, and you yelp, your words turning to bubbles that rise and pop against the ceiling, against which the water now reaches. The wheel turns again, and you try to hold your breath (something you’ve never done before) as something in the door clicks. There’s a moment where you think it’ll hold, and then you rock forward a little more, and it swings open. The ocean, eager to fill everything and make it its own, changes its course, and you tumble into the room, eyes widening when you see the enormous cauldron filled with something richly luminous and golden. Even submerged, the scent of the potion is strong, reminiscent of plant rot and blooming flowers, the same perfume that your mother exudes. For a moment, you gain breath, lungs and gills morphed and confused, and then you’re pulled back beneath the surface and pushed right into the pot.

You shut your eyes, the golden glow permeating even through your eyelids, and oddly enough, you can breathe like it’s pure oxygen. You can feel your spell being taken away from you, your limbs becoming fins, and you open your eyes.

I want to be human, you cry. I want to see my love.

The cauldron erupts, pushing you out of it on the top of a geyser. You hear popping noises and try to stand, looking down to see several of your sisters caught up in the fount of bubbling-over magic, thrashing joyfully as they try to wave at you with suddenly huge fins.

You wave back, and gasp involuntarily when you see your own hand. Five fingers, covered with soft skin, veins carrying warm blood and strong bones beneath it. Your sisters may have grown far more in the span of the last few seconds, but you’ve reached an entirely unfamiliar size and shape yourself. You stretch your legs, examining your toes, the way your dress—the same color as your scales and a little iridescent, just like they were—flows around you, and beam at your sisters.

Thank you, Mother. You bow your head quickly in short prayer.

“Let’s go see Tsutomu!” You call out, and your sisters leap in answer. The surface world is so different through the eyes of a human. Your head is turned constantly to the shore as you race on the bubbling foam towards the highest hill you can see, a speck of yellow and red on top of it growing closer with every step. Lights turn on and off in the windows of homes, a thousand little fireflies glowing smaller in the distance. Trees, shivering and shaking in the wind, make up the landscape, shaping it into something that looks almost soft from so far above.

The broad panorama isn’t without more minor detail, though: with some fascination, you see two glowing eyes staring at you from along the road. Their owner steps out of the shadows—a furry creature with pointy ears and a tail and a sleek white coat of fur. Another cat follows him into the light, this one black and her eyes shiny green, unlike the first’s calm blue. The white cat rubs his cheek along the other’s, winding around her while she stands stock-still. Quick as a minnow, the black cat swipes at him, but the white cat darts away, checking over its shoulder to see if she’ll follow. You beam broadly and speed up, eager to situate yourself in this strange and exciting new world Tsutomu comes from.

Tsutomu can’t remember a time his mother’s spent the night away from home. Every night, without fail, if she knows that his dad will be in the harbor, she sits at home and waits for him, beaming their signal in start-stop patterns, having whole conversations with him in flashes when the radio reception isn’t to be used. It’s not often he’s away from home, either; it makes him uneasy to be away from the open sea. A closed horizon is a strange sight to him, like being a bug trapped in a bowl.

His parents’ commitment to each other has shaped him, something he’s always known. In sickness and in health, they swore to each other, and they kept it. For better or for worse.

His mother certainly seems intent on plowing through the worst to get to his father, now, the rain hitting their windshield in sheets and the water sloshing around their tires. Tsutomu doesn’t protest at all, just hangs on to the grab handle and stares out at the behemoth waves.

A flash of red shines in the corner of his eye. He sucks in a sharp breath, twisting fully around. He squints, trying to make out shapes through the rain.

“Get back in your seat,” his mother blindly swats at him with one hand, eyes focused on the road. “You’re throwing off the weight distribution.”

Tsutomu ignores her, white knuckling the cushions of the car as he watches you, dancing in the rain, running with the waves. You duck and weave, your dress red against the cold, gray sea.

“There’s a girl in the water!”

“What? Where?”

His mouth lies, but his heart knows the truth, knew it as soon as he saw you.

“There,” he points, but you pull ahead of them, and then there’s nothing but lightning flashing in the distance. “Never mind. Never mind. We just—we just need to go home, sorry.”

“Right you are,” his mother says, and drives the gas pedal into the floor.

Tsutomu is a shipwreck. Tossed around on the waves of his thoughts, he finds himself cresting and falling, one emotion followed immediately by another. It can’t be you. It is you. Tsutomu doesn’t care what you are, just that he can see you again. He wonders if this is what drowning feels like.

Their wipers battle to slough off the buckets pouring from the sky, and Tsutomu’s heart drops to his soles when a smudge of red reveals itself just to be his old bucket, hanging off the fence. His mom parks and he tries to regulate his breathing, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car on shaky legs.

“Is that…” His mother says, trailing off, and his head snaps up, the car blocking him from whatever she sees.

He walks around, trying desperately not to break into a run, trying not to get his hopes up.

Barely audible over the sound of storming, the pat-pat-pat of rapid footsteps is his only warning before—

You crash into Tsutomu, both faces scrunching up from the impact, both losing your footing on the wet pavement and falling further into each other. He knows it’s you even with his eyes closed. He would know you in every world and the next; he would know you from the beat of your heart and the touch of your skin and the way he loves you, loves you, loves you.

For a moment, before you hit the ground, you feel like you’re flying with him.

You spill together onto the driveway like an egg cracked into a pan, still holding each other in a bone-crushing embrace. You inhale his scent deeply and nuzzle into his wet-rain-jacket shoulder, and he cracks his eyes open, afraid you’ll disappear when he comes back to reality.

Tsutomu says your name quietly, on tenterhooks, almost all the breath in his body taken out of him.

You lift your head and say his louder, eyes wide and bright and wet. He can’t stop his tears from welling up, but he can blame them on the rain.

You kiss his cheeks where the salt might dry, one then the other, soft as the breeze. Tsutomu can still feel your smile, unfading. The sky turns gold around you.

#sorry that u are a fish for most of this. if i had written the rest of it u would not be a fish the whole time #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #goshiki x reader fluff #goshiki x reader angst #goshiki x reader #goshiki tsutomu x reader #goshiki tsutomu x reader fluff #goshiki tsutomu x reader angst #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq fluff #hq!! angst #hq!! fluff

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renardiererin · 1 year

Text

tattoo artist!suna who uses his surprising strength to keep your legs spread open with his head a little bit too close to your pussy as he presses the ink into the spot on your inner thigh you requested

tattoo artist!suna whose breathing gets heavier everytime you whimper at the pain of the needle

tattoo artist!suna who “accidentally” runs his fingertips lightly over your nipples when you come back in the next week saying you want a tattoo under your boob

tattoo artist!suna who holds you tightly by your throat when you say you want a tattoo on your collarbone

tattoo artist!suna who puts his thumb on your bottom lip and pulls it down with a light pinch of the flesh when you say you want a tattoo on the inside of your bottom lip

“this is gonna hurt a bit, pretty. you sure you’re ready?”

tattoo artist!suna who can barley contain himself when you realize the pain of a lip tattoo was worse than you expected, as you wrap your hands in his hair and tense every muscle in your body.

tattoo artist!suna who- once you’re dating, and have gotten used to him giving you random little tattoos at home all the time- will hold a pretty vibrator in your dripping pussy, overstimulating you and your pretty clit until you’re crying and shaking as he tells you to stay still so he can finish the tattoo on the back of your thigh

“stay still, doll face, i can’t fuck this up. the more you shake, the harder it is to ink you up”

tattoo artist!suna who happily engraves his name in your thigh, opposite of the spot where he gave you your first tattoo that time when he wanted so badly to take off your little shorts and dive into your pretty pussy right then.

tattoo artist!suna who now knows you’re his and his only, and can fulfill the fantasies that once clouded his brain.

tattoo artist!suna who forces patience out of himself so that first thing when he’s done writing his name on your thigh he can slide off your thin underwear and tell you for the thousandth time about how to take care of a new tattoo in between licks up your pussy, until he’s done and can finally tonguefuck his pretty girl into orgasm.

12K notes · View notes

restlesswritingss · 2 years

Text

Just Friends

Atsumu x Hinata!reader

No warnings yet, just angst and flirting. Let me know if you are interested in a part two

Atsumu was not a relationship guy. He didn’t really want someone waiting at home for him, texting him constantly, or pestering him to make time for them. He was focused on volleyball. Everything else was temporary. Temporary was the word to describe Atsumu’s relationships with women whenever he did succumb to his own horniness. Many friends-with-benefits and one night stands that had come and gone. With this, Atsumu was good about never sleeping with anyone who would be in his life for any permanent amount of time. Sisters, cousins, and any other important female figures in his teammates and friends’ lives were off limits. He wasn’t a dog.

But Hinata’s younger sister, (Y/N), was really fucking pretty and no one had told him. He’d been playing with the spiker for a year now on the MSBY team and he’d never heard anything of his second sister.

Hinata hadn’t really meant to hide you from the entire team for a whole year. It’d just happened. You were a year younger than him and he was just somewhat cautious about exposing you to his teammates. He’d learned his lesson in high school once you’d followed him to Karasuno that it was not a good idea for his sanity to hear his teammates harp on how hot his sister was. Natsu was fine because she was so much younger but you were a whole different story.

It was an emergency in that Hinata had forgotten his knee pads at his apartment and coach wouldn’t let him practice diving drills without them. You had the day off and lived close so it was a last resort. The last thing Hinata had wanted was you walking into his practice. Every head turned to you immediately.

Hinata jogged up to you and swept you into a big hug, thanking you profusely. You giggled and just ruffled his hair. As he put you down with another loud thanks sis, the vultures swarmed.

Meian, Bokuto, and Atsumu were there in an instant. Meian introduced himself as Shoyo’s beloved captain, Bokuto yelled that you looked nothing like Hinata in a good way, and Atsumu gave you a wink as he looked you up and down. Hinata whirled on them, putting an arm out to protect you instinctually.

You smiled at your brother’s protectiveness and tried to calm the heat rising to your cheeks at all the attention.

“Back you animals! She’s my little sister!” Hinata yelled as he steered you towards the exit.

He hurried you out before any of them could get a real conversation in with you. Hinata was all too aware of how charming you were so talking was definite no-go. Only once you were safe in your car and waving good-bye with a kiss on the cheek did he breath.

Atsumu was the first to get to him when Hinata got back.

“How could you not tell me you had such a babe for a sister Sho?” He yelled dramatically, clutching his chest as if Hinata not telling his setter that he had a conventionally attractive sister was a dagger to his heart.

Hinata’s eyes narrowed as he spat, “She’s my little sister and you are going to leave her alone, Miya-san!”

Atsumu rolled his eyes because there was no real venom behind his words, just Shoyo stating a fact.

Meian came up and smacked him on the back adding in, “Yeah we all know how you are with women, Miya. In and out right? So sisters are off limits. Even if they are total babes like Hinata-kun.”

“Everyone stop calling my sister a babe!” Shoyo screeched as he covered his ears and tried to get back to practice.

So that was that. Atsumu knew Meian was right and you were not going to become another notch on his bed post so best to wash his hands of it. He’d probably never see you again anyway.

Except he did see you again about a month later. It was the rainy season but Atsumu was braving the downpour with his umbrella to get Onigiri Miya. He hadn’t seen Osamu in a while and he’d never admit it but he did miss his brother, Atsumu’s empty fridge had nothing to do with his decision to get free food from his twin. Atsumu was listening to music and not really paying attention, his feet knowing the way on pure muscle memory alone, when he saw you coming up out of the subway station he was passing.

He stopped dead in his tracks. You were wearing a white button up tucked into a pencil skirt. Atsumu had always had a thing for a hot woman in stuffy office wear. You stopped just outside the covered stairwell and stared up at the rain. Atsumu watched as you then looked down at your shirt and realized your predicament. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. The lightbulb went off in Atsumu’s head as he realized you forgot an umbrella. Without thinking, his feet were veering off their path and towards you.

“Hinata-san!” He called while giving you his most charming grin,

Confusion overtook your face as you tried to register the tall man running towards you.

“Miya-san?” You asked hesitantly once you realized why he looked familiar.

Atsumu blushed at you addressing him and stammered, “I’m one of your brother’s teammates. I recognized you from the time you came and brought Sho kneepads. Here, take my umbrella. You need it more than me.”

Atsumu mentally kicked himself for talking so fast but your eyes on him made him both excited and nervous.

You blushed now as he held the umbrella out to you once he was also under the covering of the top of the stairwell. You automatically pulled his sleeve to press you two closer to the side so as to not block the other people leaving the station. Atsumu couldn’t help the uptick of his lips as took in your features up close.

Cute, he thought.

“I can’t take your umbrella, what will you do then?”

Damn even your voice was cute.

“I’ll run as fast as I can to my brother’s restaurant and use being wet as an excuse to get him to give me a free hot drink,” He smiled to reassure you that he would be fine.

You shook your head, “I can’t just steal your umbrella. Thank you though. I appreciate the sentiment.”

Atsumu huffed at your resistance, “Fine then come get food with me to see if the rain lets up. Then we’ll both by dry, and I’ll get to have a nice time with a pretty girl as a reward for my kindness.”

Your small smile and blush at his words sent Atsumu’s heart into a frenzy. Making girls blush was something he was good at but it’d never made him feel this accomplished.

“Fine, but only because I’ve never been to Onigiri Miya and Shoyo says it’s amazing.”

“It is, so shall we?” Atsumu held up the umbrella and gestured for you to loop your arm through his.

“We shall,” You said as you squeezed into his side to get under his tiny umbrella that really barely covered Atsumu’s own broad shoulders.

Your body pressing up against his sent shivers down his spine.

Talking with you and feeling your breath on his neck as you looked up at him was worth the wet shoulder he got on the short walk to Onigiri Miya. Atsumu didn’t mind making sure you didn’t feel a drop at his own expense so long as he got to hear your sweet laugh in his ear for the rest of his life. It was so easy to talk with you, and it was never easy for Atsumu to talk to anyone. He relished in the anomaly.

Once you two got to the onigiri shop, he thought nothing of opening the door for you and enduring a few seconds of rainfall to make sure the umbrella stayed over you at all times.

“Thanks for keeping me dry, Miya-san.”

Atsumu preened under your gratitude. Nothing had ever made him feel so good.

Once inside, there was no line so the two of you walked right up to the counter. Well, Atsumu did but you stood behind him as if in line. Atsumu rolled his eyes at you trying to do two separate orders. He gently grabbed your elbow and pulled you forward.

“I’m buying you food so you can get my family discount,” he murmured into your ear. His breath on you made you turn beet red, something Atsumu reveled in. You just couldn’t get any cuter could you?

“No it’s ok Miya-san. I can’t let you do that too it’s not fair,” You pouted at him.

Atsumu was struck right in the heart by your cute pout. The realization that he’d do anything if you just pouted at him hit him like a truck and made him unable to respond.

“No one is paying for anything, ya want your regular Tsumu?” Osamu’s voice grating his nerves pulled Atsumu out of his lovestruck haze.

His brother was coming up from the back, eyes assessing the situation. He quirked his brow and Atsumu knew he was going to get grilled later. He’d never brought a girl to Onigira Miya before. Then his twin’s eyes narrowed. Atsumu didn’t know why he’d get a glare for this. Then Osamu smiled big at you and leaned over the counter.

“Hey, (Y/N). Is this knucklehead bothering you?” He fake whispered to you, making you giggle.

Wait why did Osamu call you by your first name? And why did him making you giggle make Atsumu see red? He felt like his brother was undermining his own flirting which was stupid because he was not flirting with you. Or at least he shouldn't be.

You shook your head and bumped your hip against his as you replied, “No, no, Osamu. He saved me from getting drenched on my walk home from work. I picked the wrong day to wear a white shirt and forget my umbrella. I owe him an onigiri for preventing me from showing all of Japan my bra.”

Atsumu blushed and tried to clear his mind of the image of you showing just him your bra.

Osamu looked back at his twin and gave him another glare to which Atsumu stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

“Well, it’s good to finally have you in my shop. Don’t worry about paying or ordering I’ll have something special for you guys coming right up,” Osamu said with a wink as he then turned back to the kitchen.

You blushed at his wink and thanked him profusely. Atsumu gagged dramatically, also making you giggle which was a big win to him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you towards a table as far away from the counter, and Osamu, as possible.

“When did you two get so chummy?” Atsumu huffed as he pulled your chair out for you.

You smiled shyly at his chivalry and replied, “We sit together at home games. We both get the team-family seats.”

“So you watch us play huh?” Atsumu asked as he squeezed into the chair across from you. His legs were too long and stretched into your space and he tried to ignore the heat coming from where his legs brushed yours.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been to every home game. I’m really proud of Shoyo. And you’re not too boring to watch yourself.”

You were not good for Atsumu’s heart. Your teasing and cute smirk made it skip several beats, as did the knowledge that you paid any attention to him on the court.

“Well next time you come you have to wear my jersey. It’s the only way to make up delaying my onigiri run to me.”

You laughed at his mock-serious tone. Your laugh was a cool drink of water on a hot day.

The conversation flowed easily again from there, Atsumu enchanted with every little detail of you he got throughout.

You excused yourself to wash your hands before the food arrived and Atsumu deflated in your absence. Of course this was when his idiot brother finally brought your food. After setting down the food he plopped himself into your chair. The twins glared at each other over the food.

“The fuck do you want?” Atsumu grunted.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing with Shoyo’s little sister?”

Atsumu shrugged, knowing the accusation was coming as soon as he realized Samu knew who you were.

“Just hanging out. I didn’t plan to walk by as she was getting off her train with no umbrella. I’m not that conniving.”

“Atsumu, leave her alone. I know what you’re like with women. May I remind you that she isn’t a girl you can ghost and never see again when you inevitably get bored.”

“You may not.”

Osamu rolled his eyes. Atsumu bristled at the idea that he would ever get bored of you. Sure, he barely knew you but you were anything but boring. Atsumu knew his brother’s concerns weren’t unfounded, he was a flakey guy when it came to relationships. Atsumu didn’t want to do that to you.

“We’re just friends. Promise nothing more, I would never get involved with a teammate’s sister.” He mumbled, still not looking Samu in the eye.

Samu sighed, “I know. I’m sorry to imply you would. I just saw the way she was looking at you and got-”

He cut off his sentence as he saw you walking out of the bathroom. Atsumu wanted to reach across the table and shake his brother for more information. Hope bloomed in his chest. How did you look at him?

You raised a brow at Osamu being in your seat, picking up on the somber atmosphere. Osamu got up and pulled the chair out for you with his most charming smile. You smiled wearily back as you sat.

“Thanks, your mother sure raised you two right,” You commented, still eyeing the boys trying to pick up on what had caused the awkward tension between the two in your absence.

“Damn right she did,” Both replied at the same time.

You smiled fondly at this. They glared at each other.

Osamu turned back to you. He leaned in close as he said, “Made this one special for you based on what you’ve said you like. Hope it lives up to Keiji’s hype. I have to head back to the kitchen but don’t leave without giving me feedback.”

You agreed and thanked him again. Atsumu flipped him off as he finally left you two alone again.

“So why were you two fighting?” You asked as you began to unwrap your food.

Atsumu already had half of his onigiri in his mouth so he just mumbled, “Nothing.”

You sent him a look that said you weren’t going to drop this. You paused before eating while you awaited his answer.

He sighed, liking that you weren’t going to let him keep something from you. Your forwardness was endearing.

“He was just grilling me not to hit on a teammate’s sister,” he conceded after swallowing his massive bite of food.

Your face immediately turned beat red. Had Atsumu not been hitting on you? You were certainly hitting on him. Oh god, had he just been being nice? That made sense but you’d been reading it all wrong. Disappointment and hurt filled your chest. You swallowed your embarrassment, not wanting to make this situation awkward.

Atsumu saw the horror on your face at the idea of him hitting on you. That hurt, he had naively thought you’d been into it. Guess you were just being friendly which would align with you being related to Shoyo.

You cleared your throat, “Oh uh, that’s stupid. I mean you’re just really nice plus why would you hit on me?”

Atsumu didn’t like the way you said “me”, as if he wouldn’t hit on for any reason other than your family relations.

“Well, I mean you are hot. I just am not a relationship guy. You know how it is. I’m the team man-whore, the fan-favorite, and so I would never mess with a teammate’s sister,” Atsumu tried to joke but his voice faltered. He hated describing his promiscuity to you. He’d never felt embarrassed about it before but suddenly he wanted to prove to you he could be a relationship guy.

Your heart took another hit. Of course he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Shoyo had told you, but you’d still started developing a little crush on the setter over the course of this evening. Well it developed in one night so that means you could get rid of it in one night. Right?

You forced a laugh, one Atsumu didn’t like as much as your real one, “Yeah, Shoyo hates when I’ve been with his teammates in the past. I get way too attached to be able to do hookups. As much as I wish I could.”

Oh god you’d rambled too much. Atsumu didn’t need to know you were desperately horny and yet unable to separate sex and feelings. Sleeping with strangers was also just never your thing.

Atsumu felt so embarrassed, he wished he could sink into the floor. Of course you weren’t a one night stand kind of person. He was just an unlikeable ass and therefore unable to form any genuine connections.

“Sorry, you didn’t need to know that, I really appreciate you helping me tonight. It’s been nice getting to know you,” You mumbled the last part.

Embarrassment flooded you as he just stared dumbly at you. Atsumu’s brain had stopped working. His cheeks were red up to his ears and all he could think was she’s so cute.

You picked at your nails to avoid looking at him. Osamu just happened to glance over to check on you two at this moment. What he saw was his dumbass brother staring at you like you’d hung the stars. This was not going to go well.

Author’s note: Not me possibly starting another series LOL.

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#atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya angst #atsumu imagine #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #hq!! fluf #hq!! angst #hq!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagine #hq!! imagine #hq x reader #hq angst #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu imagine

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omiomi-kyun · 4 months

Text

cute soft opening.

the thing is, i'm still working on how i would like to see this blog in the future. including what projects would be uploaded here and what-not. so, while waiting for a miracle *wink*wink*, send me request that includes the character of your choice plus whatever prompt you want.

rules

so... we're gonna set boundaries here. to create a safe space for everyone, i will not be posting any smut or dead dove: do not eat content here. BUT! i will DEFINITELY be writing more... ANGST in the near future. anyway, on to the rules!

please refrain from sending requests that:

contains specific race. (i'm a bit uncomfortable writing about races that i cannot represent well enough.)

contains a specific political stand. (again, i'd love to build a safe space for everyone. one where everyone can escape the harsh realities of life.)

contains any religious stance. (bhie, i haven't gone to church for more than a year now. need i say more?)

contains sexual content. (again, there will be a separate blog for that.)

what to send in:

fluff, angst, drabble, one shot, timestamps, au, anything as long as they won't breach my hard 'no-no's'.

want to read a story with a neurodivergent reader interacting with your fave character? g! it might take time, but hey, i'll try to research the safe terms that wouldn't offend anyone.

want to read more fluffs that contains x characters that interacts with their children or children in general? i got you covered!

want to read a story about x character dying in their beloved partner-in-crime reader's arms? oh, tell me all about it.

again as long as it doesn't cross the no-no's, we're good.

if you have no idea where to get the prompts, i'll link some below. i'll try to look for my fave ones! hehe!

looking forward to see your requests!

oh, before i forget.

YOU CAN SEND ANONYMOUS ASKS!

characters i'd love to write about:

here's the list for the characters and series that i can write about.

HAIKYUU!!

GENSHIN IMPACT

NIJISANJI EN LIVERS

WEBTOON DADDIES HAHAHAHAHA in another episode of exposing myself on the internet

CLICK HERE TO SEND YOUR REQUEST!

#haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu!! fluff #haikyu!! x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! angst #hq angst #hq!! angst #haikyu angst #prazia: cute soft opening #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #nijisanji en fluff #nijisanji en angst

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theduosetter · 2 years

Text

Maybe we should just try

"Hey."

"Hi."

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck, as he held a red plastic cup in his hand. "H-how has your first year been going so far?"

"I-Its been going." You answered awkwardly. "I heard you should wait until your second year to see if you'll actually make it through."

"Yeah, that's what Bokuto said to me when homework was kicking my ass." He chuckled lightly.

"But you're still good at science right?" You pointed it out. "I mean you always managed to ace all those tests in high school."

"Well believe it or not my brain sometimes can't handle too much of it. Compared to high school, here they through everything at you without warning."

"I mean it's the first time we go to college. So yeah... it's bound to be rough."

His shoulders started to relax slowly, his body didn't feel as stiff as it first was. He hoped that you felt the same way.

"I um heard you joined a sports team?" He asked.

"Oh yeah!" You exclaimed forgetting about the awkwardness that surrounded you two a second ago. "I was accepted to be part of the team after going through a second try out."

"That's... that's amazing." Kuroo sadly smiled knowing he wasn't able to be part of that moment. "What sport did you end up joining?"

"Volleyball." You smiled. "After seeing you and the team play I wanted to give it s try. I'm by not an expert of any sort of course! I-I still have a long way to go. But I knew it wouldn't hurt to at least give it a chance."

"There's no reason to think like that. I think it's cool that you wanted to join. I'm sure you'll end up liking it a lot more than just watching on the side lines."

"I know it'll be rough that training and all." A chuckle escaped your lips as you could already imagine yourself serving. "But I think my fear is not being able to serve properly more than anything else."

He chuckled. "I'm sure whatever serve you end up going with will be fine. Serves are powerful yes, although they're not the only thing important in a game."

"Well knowing what Lev had to go through it's hard not to worry. Yaku and Kenma put him in so many training exercises to be able to serve good."

"I completely forgot about that." He laughed, feeling happy for the first time since he arrived at the party. "Oh my god Lev used to complain so damn much at everything thing. And poor Kenma was annoyed whenever he couldn't get it right especially when Coach Nekomata paired him up with Lev."

You nodded laughing as well remembering the good times.

"Kenma wanted to literally hide!" You exclaimed. "One time he begged me to hide him in my locker just to not spend another moment with him. I felt so bad for Lev knowing all he wanted to do was get better at volleyball."

Kuroo wiped a tear away from his eye, his smile widened the longer he spend time with you.

"I swear he never failed to piss Yaku off."

"But in the end it paid off it seems." You sighed smiling small. "I haven't talked to Lev or Kenma in a while, I miss them."

"Kenma is busy with work and Lev well he apparently got upgraded to team captain."

Your eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Coach said he had gotten better and apparently he's good at giving the team confidence. He decided to give it a shot and see how he does."

"I'm so happy for him!" You pouted. "I wish I could have been there when he had gotten the news. He must have been so proud of himself when he received his jersey."

"He was I was able to go actually. I got some pictures of him, do you want to see?"

You nodded happily. "Can I please? I wanna see him."

Kuroo took out his phone and stood next to you, leaning in closer as your forearms came in contact with one another. He quickly went to his pictures and held his phone in front of you.

"Here's one." He said swiping it to the left and showing you Lev holding up his jersey, smiling happily.

"No freaking way," you mumbled. "Did he grow freaking taller?!"

"Believe it or not he's two centimeters taller than me." He answered irritated. "Now he brags about it so much."

"That's not fair he keeps growing and I keep getting shorter."

He smiled to himself as he swiped to the left again, "I think you're the perfect height."

Your face turned red hearing his compliment. You didn't know if he had realized what he said and was playing it off as if it was nothing.

"Yaku went as well. Some of them were able to make it but everyone else was too busy. Kenma went but only for a short while since he had to work."

"I miss them." You frowned. "It sucks not being able to see them everyday like I used to."

"They miss you too you know." He put his phone away and turned to look at you. "They kept asking me when you'll go and visit them again. Lev thinks you replaced him with someone else."

"I could never." You said looking at the ground, "Even after what happened... they'll always be my boys. As much as I meet knew people I can't ever forget them."

"What about me?"

You stopped breathing. You couldn't wrap your mind around his question, it had been such a long time that you forgot how he made you feel.

He closed his eyes tightly feeling regret washing over him for asking you such a personal question that bad no business being asked. "I'm sorry- you don't have to answer that-"

"I did."

Opening his eyes he looked down at you, noticing how much you had changed physically. The short hair you once had was now long, but the face he loved greeting everyday with kiss was the same. Your beautiful eyes were still there, shining bright like they always did whenever light hit them.

Kuroo waited for you to continue making sure not to pressure you.

"That day we broke up." You explained bitting your lip, preventing the tears from falling. "I couldn't function without you... without the routine we had built together for two years. I was devastated, I didn't want to wake up knowing my life was now missing a piece."

Your body was about to give out and he could tell you were trying to hold yourself together like you always did whenever a problem occurred.

"I kept asking myself what went wrong but I couldn't find an answer." With glossy eyes you tilted your head up to look at him. "If I'm being honest I wanted you back, Kuroo. I wanted to go back to you, to fight for what didn't deserve to end."

"Why didn't you?" He softly spoke.

Looking off to the side you sniffled. "Because maybe it was meant for it to happen."

"I didn't want it to happen." A sigh escaped from his lips looking down at his feet. "I wanted to make sure it lasted between us, I saw you as my future. I loved you even if I was too young to know what love was... with you it just felt right."

"Then why did it have to end?" You questioned hoping for an answer but at the same time you didn't want to know.

"Because I was an idiot who got their ego too high up to realize what he had." His hands turned into fists. "I didn't see how good I had it. I never meant to hurt you but I did. I was a fool thinking I would be find without you but I was lying to myself."

"I was in pain Kuroo... why the hell did you do that to me?"

He didn't have answer because truth be told he did not know himself either. All he knew was that he missed you every single day.

"I don't know." He whispered. "I wish I never hurt you, you didn't deserve to go through that. Not when you were nothing but supportive to me and understood my busy schedule even when I ended up cancelling dinner plans because something had come up. I didn't mean to hurt you... and I-I know I can keep saying it every time and not have you believe me but I am-" A sob got caught in his throat as his vision became blurry. "I'm so sorry..."

"I'm sorry." He repeated again, as tears escaped one by one not caring who saw him. "I'm sorry for everything."

In all your years he never failed to show you how he felt. He was never one to hide his emotions, it had been so long since you seen that.

It always pained you whenever he cried about not feeling good enough for the team or whenever his insecurities got the best of him. All you wanted was to take the pain away because you loved him.

Even now that's how you still felt.

You looked off to the side closing your eyes and letting the tears fall. "I love you still so damn much Kuroo..." You confessed. "I shouldn't have feelings for the person who hurt me but I do, I'm mad at myself that I still do when you don't deserve it."

The music became muffled noise for the two of you, people kept passing by you not noticing the situation. You were thankful the lights were dimmed down low.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "I know you deserved to move on but I love you. I have then and I still do now even more so than I ever thought I could."

"I don't know I can ever believe you again."

"I understand... I don't blame you nor would hold it against you for not giving me another chance when I know I shouldn't be asking for one." He reached out holding your chin in his hand and turning your head slowly to look at him. "But I wanted to let you know how I felt... I didn't want to hide it anymore."

"Kuroo..." You whispered, seeing those eyes you had fallen deeply for.

"And if you come to the conclusion that you don't want to give me a chance then I'm happy looking at you from afar." He sadly smiled, "At least I know I was able to have one last moment with you, tonight."

Slowly you reached out placing your hand over his. "I miss you so much..."

"I miss you too princess."

It was wrong to still love someone that caused you pain. Everything in your body yelled at you to stop and step away before you regret it again.

But you couldn't follow what your mind was saying. It was impossible.

The two of you looked at one another, not pulling away from each other. Your eyes slowly shifted down to his lips as he reciprocated your moves as well. Slowly you leaned in at the same time, stopping each second you got closer to make sure both of you agreed.

As you were a centimeter away from touching his lips he spoke. "Are you sure? I don't want you to regret anything..." He whispered.

"I've been waiting for almost a year for a sign to push me towards you." You said. "I have one now... I don't want to waste it any longer."

His heart started to beat rapidly as your lips finally met. Your chest was filled with so many emotions. Everything you had felt and wished for was put into this one kiss. Kuroo couldn't be happier that he had the person he had loved for such a long time.

He moved his hand and held the side of your face as he rested his other hand on your waist, tugging you closer. You placed your hand on his chest to hold yourself steady as your head got dizzy.

It felt like your skin was on fire and you couldn't be happier.

Kuroo couldn't get enough of you and you couldn't get enough of him. You wanted to get closer enough to feel him, to remember what it felt like to be held in his arms.

All those days spend away from one another made you feel crazy for one another.

Maybe it wouldn't work in the end and you were probably wasting your time again.

But you didn't care, neither of you did.

There's nothing anyone could say or do to change your minds now.

Pulling away you both breathed heavily against one another, a smile dancing on each other's lips.

"God I forgot how good it felt like to kiss you again." Kuroo mumbled pecking your lips.

You blushed resting your forehead against his.

"Me either."

✩ ── Masterlist ✩ ──

#kuroo testuro x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo #hq!! x reader #haikyuu x self insert #hq!! angst #hq!! fluff #hq anime #hq!! x you #haikyu x reader #hq angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!#haikyuu blog #hq!! Tetsuro

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noosayog · 6 months

Text

002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly.

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile?

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says.

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble.

“True. But he is an idiot.”

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale.

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.”

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter.

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?”

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen.

“Why not?”

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you.

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl.

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently.

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in.

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.”

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps.

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating.

“So, found a guy to take you out?”

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have.

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.”

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this:

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases.

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both.

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?”

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation.

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim.

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant.

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child.

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!”

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently.

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.”

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice.

“‘Samu…”

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.”

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you.

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted.

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight.

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on.

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular.

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter.

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.”

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before.

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.”

“Dude, nice try,” you had said.

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night.

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break.

“I’ll walk with ya.”

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit.

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time.

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight.

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway.

“I’m onto ya,” he starts.

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.”

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you.

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face.

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself.

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had.

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway.

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs.

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?”

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes.

“Who?” you mumble.

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air.

“I don’t know… I just…”

“Are ya still in love with my brother?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Osamu raises his brows.

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.”

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?”

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off.

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin.

“I wanna get him back,” you admit.

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!”

“Huh?”

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-”

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.”

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.

“Osamu…”

“Am I wrong?”

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before.

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used.

His question goes unanswered.

–

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu.

It doesn’t make you miss him any less.

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around.

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision.

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock.

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth.

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter.

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-”

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say.

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-”

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu.

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.”

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks.

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act.

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory.

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do.

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-”

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out.

“Hey, ‘Samu!”

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face.

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope.

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy.

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you.

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly.

“You just…?” he prompts.

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself.

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.”

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?”

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you.

“And I like you so much, Osamu.”

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap.

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?”

He stops stroking your hair.

“What, ya don’t like it?”

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk.

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him.

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time.

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?”

You nod shyly.

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“I want it.”

“Alright. C’mere then.”

You oblige.

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck.

You nod.

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?”

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle.

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.”

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth.

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

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