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#haikyuu x you
inarizahki · 2 days ago
PLS HAIKYUU HUSBANDS + PICKING THEM UP WHEN THEY’RE DRUNK pt 2 with Osamu, Suna and whoever else!! Samu would def get the munchies and make you take him to get fast food at 3am
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cast: osamu, suna, matsukawa, hanamaki, ushijima, aone, meian, futakuchi, tsukishima, hinata warnings: alcohol a/n: again, drink responsibly kids
[pt. 1]
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wants you take him to his restaurant because why spend money when he can just make his own food. only problem is he’s swaying like a tube man and would be a danger to himself and all his fingers if knives are involved, so you drive to a convenience store instead.
“that looks disgusting.”
you pause midway in lifting the food to your mouth and sigh, “it’s a convenience store onigiri, ‘samu. it’s not supposed to be gourmet.”
“bet the filling tastes like- like piss,” osamu slurs, glaring at the offending thing in your hand. “the s’nothin’ like kita’s...”
“no one’s rice is like kita’s.” you roll your eyes and take a bite. 
osamu falls silent, looking all kinds of betrayed, before glancing at your mouth and mumbling, “is it better than mine?”
“of course not. can’t even compare.” 
his chest puffs up. “knew you had taste. s’why i married ya.”
drinks until he’s out like a light. no one can wake him up except you and when you do, it’s only barely. clings to you like a koala by draping himself over you, but he’s gigantic and heavy, so atsumu and osamu have to help carry him to your car.
“rin,” when you pull up into the driveway and round the front of the car to open the passenger seat door, you giggle at the sight of suna’s head lolling back against the headrest. “baby, wake up. we’re home.”
“riiin,” you whine sweetly, leaning forward to brush your nose against his cheek, “wake uuup.”
you nearly shriek when a hand wraps around your wrist and tugs hard, pulling you into the car and onto suna’s lap. warm lips ghost over the skin on your neck.
“let’s just stay here for a bit.”
just can’t keep his hands off you. sidles up to you when you arrive, grabs at your waist, presses his face into your neck, nips at your earlobes, murmurs the filthiest things in your front of all his friends with absolutely no ounce of shame.
“why...why’re you wearing so many clothes...” matsukawa mumbles against your skin, “take ‘em off for me, doll...”
“issei, your friends are right there.”
“...they can watch if they like,” a hand slips under your top, the other trailing up your thigh, “but no touching. you’re mine.”
“issei!” heat rushes to your cheeks and when you look up...
“makki, put your phone away, i swear to god.”
a lot more vocal than normal, rambles on and on as you pretend you know what he’s talking about. tries to pee anywhere and everywhere and you have to physically stop him from doing it in places where he could actually get arrested.
“i can’t talk to you like this, ‘hiro,” you looks up towards the sky, trying not to hear what’s going on in the bushes in front of you.
“like what?” 
“oh my god, don’t turn around!” you shriek at the sight of him about to face you, his hand still on his dick.
“oh my bad,” hanamaki turns back around and sighs, doing a little jiggle to finish up. “man. i should marry you. you’d be good for me i bet.”
“‘ did marry me.”
“...really?” hanamaki turns and squints, finally done, propping his hands up on his hips. you sigh at the sight of his unzipped fly being proudly displayed. “well can i do it again? i don’t remember.”
looks sober until he opens his mouth and starts talking about the strangest topics. gives everyone whiplash because he smiles. and blushes.
“my wife...” ushijima starts, staring down at the empty glass in his hands with a small smile, “is very beautiful.”
“yes i know,” tendou sighs. “she’s very beautiful and smells like heaven and you’re so very much in love with her. i’ve got the powerpoint presentation memorized.”
“she’s also standing right behind you.”
the absolute sweetest, follows you obediently into your car when you arrive to pick him up, shakes his head when koganegawa pleads for him to hang out a little while longer. a little clumsy and uncoordinated and hovers over you like a lost puppy the entire night.
“’nobu,” you chuckle and bat away his big hands, “i got this.”
he lets out a displeased grunt and you smile, leaning forward to kiss away the frown on his lips before finishing your task of helping him out of his jacket.
you place a hand on his chest, pushing him back until he’s lying down on the bed. “get some rest, love.”
"you’re...not coming?” 
“i’ll be right there,” you whisper, pulling the blankets over him and rubbing his arm, “promise.”
is usually surrounded by msby fans when you arrive because his height and looks unfortunately make him far too recognizable. so charming it’s like he’s not drunk at all, but you know him well enough to spot the signs.
“ah,” meian blinks at the sight of you before his face breaks out into a wide grin, “here for an autograph too, beautiful?”
giggles burst out of the group of fans around him.
you arch your eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “you already gave me your autograph. on our marriage papers.”
the giggles grow in volume.
"i see.” meian looks a lot more sober now and straightens, nodding gravely. “i suppose we should consummate that tonight then.”
sarcasm and disrespect dialed up to a hundred. tries to pick a fight with everyone but it’s not very effective because he just sounds ridiculous, so no one really pays attention to him.
“don’t touch my girl.”
“oh my god,” you drag your fingers down your face, “enough, kenji, get in the car. let’s go.”
“i’m serious,” futakuchi’s barely even standing, bracing himself heavily against the open car door. he points at the man he’s talking to. “don’t touch her.”
“kenji, that’s aone.”
“she married me, see. you...y’can’t have her.”
“kenji, he was your best man.”
annoyed drunk. hates everything and everyone...except you. you’re alright. 
“so you don’t get lost,” tsukishima explains when he grabs your hand, scowling down at you like that’s something you do on a regular basis. “...dummy.”
“kei...” you try not to laugh when he nearly trips over a fire hydrant. “you can barely walk.”
“yeah and?”
“nothing,” you shrug innocently, “just thinking maybe holding my hand is more for your benefit.”
“don’t be stupid.”
“excuse me?”
“...nothing.” tsukishima looks away with a slight flush on his cheeks and mumbles, “...sorry. didn’t mean it.”
the human equivalent of the heart eyes emoji. so unbelievably bubbly and excited. flushed cheeks, wide eyes, looks at you like he’s falling in love with you all over again.
“you’re really pretty.”
“awww, thank you, baby.”
“i’m a professional volleyball player, did you know?”
“yes shou,” you reply with the patience of a saint, all too familiar with this routine, “you play for the black jackals. you play for team japan.”
he doesn’t seem to hear you. “m’gonna win big ‘n become successful...”
“you were in the olympics last year, shou.”
“...‘n i’m gonna marry you one day.”
“we are married, sweetie.”
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terrakiyo · 2 days ago
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“i don’t want to be here.”
your eyes snap open. you look around before turning at sakusa.
he stares at you. you stare back, quickly pointing at yourself, earning a small, almost imperceptible nod from him.
a smile blooms on your face. “me neither.”
sakusa huffs in amusement at your enthusiastic response.
not that he’s surprised about your reaction, really. it is the first time he’s initiated contact with you. after sitting next to you. for half of the semester. yup.
he’s an idiot, he thinks.
it’s not like he’s never wanted to talk to you. he’s considered it (or so he says), he’s just never gotten around to it, is all.
he takes a deep breath. “do you like coffee?”
you glance at the plastic cup sitting in your desk. you look back at him hesitantly. “yes?”
he wants to slap himself. of course you like coffee, he’s seen you come in with a cup of it before class starts.
his eyes widen, face flush in embarrassment. he clears his throat. “i meant to ask if you wanted coffee.”
you raise your brow. you quickly cover your mouth. “but i already have coffee.”
he can hear it. the slight quiver to your voice. he’s heard enough of your rambling for the last months to know you’re holding back your laughter.
he’s going to throw himself into a ditch. somewhere nobody can find him. he’d rather die than deal with this anymore.
he shrinks into himself. maybe this was a really bad idea, he thinks. he should’ve just kept to himself until the semester ended.
he shouldn’t have listened to stupid miya and his stupid advice. so what if he wanted to get to know you better? so what if he looked forward to seeing you sitting next to him?
he may have taken a liking to you, but not enough to make him want to deal with this embarrassing experience.
his body stiffens when you tentatively poke his shoulder.
he turns to you, brows furrowed. he’s glad he’s wearing his mask, that way you won’t see his pout. (not that he’s pouting—because he’s not. he doesn’t pout. he’s such a liar).
you offer him a small smile. he hates that fluttery, fuzzy feeling it gives him. his face is still flushed. (it’s not embarrassment this time, though).
you blink at him. he blinks back. you gently nod at him.
he takes a sharp breath. he wonders if you’re doing this for your own sick amusement.
he’s got half a mind to leave you hanging. to just end his misery right then and there and leave the class and just tell the professor he was sick or something. anything to not embarrass himself further.
but when he meets your gaze he can’t bring himself to do that. because he doesn’t want to be rude to you. or, anymore than he might’ve already been.
he takes a deep breath. his hands are shaking, his heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his throat, and he still can’t look away from your eyes.
“do you want to grab some coffee with me sometime?”
and maybe—just maybe—that moment of distress was worth it. because that smile and the excited nod you give him are enough to make his unease melt away.
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saintmanjiro · a day ago
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warnings: fem! reader, blow jobs, hand jobs, ball sucking
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bokuto just doesn’t know how pretty he is, you conclude. he parades around in gray sweats like that, shirtless with his hair down, and he has absolutely zero regard to your feelings, paying no mind to how your legs are squeezed together, how you just can’t pay attention to the movie he’s excitedly watching, nuzzling closer to your side as he plants a kiss to your head here and there.
no, he doesn’t know, and you’ve decided you have to change that.
“kou, let go,” you shuffle out of his grip, making a pout curl on his lips.
“why, baby—” he’s cut off by you planting yourself on his lap, hands laying on his bare chest as you attach your lips to his neck, right under his ear.
“you wore these sweatpants on purpose,” you pout against his ear, sucking on his neck as your clothed heat grinds against his, making him exhale shakily. his hands find your waist, helping you move to his liking.
“these are my comfy sweats,” he insists through groans, moving his hips in synch with yours. the movies long forgotten, and all you want to do is show bokuto just how pretty you really think he is. his dick hardens as you grind against him, yet the friction is too little for his taste. crawling off his lap and falling between his legs, you tug at his waistband, smiling when he lifts his hips up and lets you pull off his sweats and boxers in one go. his cock stands tall, pre cum oozing from the tip as he stares down at you through lust filled eyes. pressing hot kisses up his length, you suck lightly on his tip, making him let out a soft groan.
“you’re gonna need new comfy sweats, kou,” you murmur, latching onto a heavy ball, sucking on it as your hand pumps his thick length, making his head fall against the couch. his biceps flex as he grabs the edge of the cushion, knuckles white from his grip. you stroke him faster, swirling your tongue over the round of his ball, making his hips jerk as he groans out your name.
“y/n, fuck,” he curses, whimpering when your thumb rubs over his head in circles. “ngh—fuck, baby,” he whines, and your hand squeezes tighter around the base of his shaft, twisting around his length and gliding over his head.
“feels good, princess,” he moans, hair sticking to his forehead as it dampens in sweat, his hand moving to the back of your head, keeping you in place. his breath grows erratic at each suck of his swollen balls, chest heaving with each pant he lets out, shaky whines falling past his lips when you switch from one to the other, your free hand fondling the neglected one to keep him stimulated. his eyes are scrunched shut tightly, lips parted open as small whines of your name escape them with each flick of your wrist.
you can feel his orgasm approaching, the way his cock pulses in your hand, twitching slightly as his abs clench.
“princess,” he groans. “‘m gonna cum. f-fuck, keep doing that.” his thighs shake and before you know it, bokuto’s crying out your name as thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip. you gently release the heavy sacs from your mouth, moving to take in his length as he cums, hallowing your cheeks and sucking him through his orgasm. he whines, jerking his hips to thrust into your mouth.
“f-fuck, baby—shit, feels good,” he praises, whimpering when your tongue swirls over his tip. there’s too much cum to swallow at once, leaking past your lips and down your chin, but you suck his length anyway, trying to catch as much as you can. he whimpers as his peak ends, whining at the last few hallows of your cheeks before you pop off, looking up at him innocently.
reaching over, he collects a few drops of cum from your chin, pushing them back into your mouth. you swallow happily, and he grins, pulling you onto his lap.
“baby, i don’t want new sweats,” he smirks, kissing your lips as his hands cup your tits, squeezing them gently. “these are my favorite now.”
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bakuatsu · 16 hours ago
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featuring: atsumu, mattsun, osamu, iwaizumi + suna.
warnings: 16+ suggestive content. slight choking in suna’s + a a little oral fixation in samu’s. female leaning petnames + just some rough making out.
a/n: this was kind of just half finished from before i started posting my stuff, so i thought i’d just finish it since i’ll probably write this for the bnha characters too.
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ఌ ATSUMU the reason you’d both been arguing had been long forgotten, but you were both too stubborn to back down as you stood infront of each other. “you’re a fucking asshole, atsumu.” “don’t act like yer much better, princess.” “oh fuck off, miya.” you snap, and atsumu chuckles dryly, his eyes darkening as he approaches you slowly, your feet carrying you backwards until your back meets the wall, his hand resting beside your head as his lips ghost over yours “that’s not ma fuckin’ name.” you would’ve whimpered if atsumu’s lips didn’t smash against yours instead, his bigger body slamming you back against the wall as his hands harshly grope the flesh of your ass. you feel your knees buckle at the way his tongue slides messily along your own before he sucks it into his mouth. “ts-tsumu.” you whine “hnghhh—fuck, there ya go, baby, that’s more like it.” atsumu groans, wrapping your thighs around his waist as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, before moving to suck on the sensitive skin on your jawline, his tongue smoothing over the newly raised marks that he leaves behind. “let me hear ya say that again, angel.”
ఌ MATTSUN his brows furrowed as you stood before him, arms folded over your chest before you roll your eyes at the indifference on his face. “you’re not listening to me, issei.” you huff and issei’s head falls back against the couch, as he runs a tired hand down his face with a sigh. “we’re not getting anywhere, i mean there’s no point even trying to talk to you, matsukawa.” “is that right?” issei drawls, and you roll your eyes at his smooth tone before turning to leave, only to feel yourself being pulled back as your boyfriend rises from his spot, only sitting back again with you pressed tightly against him— his hand resting against the back of your neck. you feel something familiar replace the anger in your stomach when you feel his mouth roughly moving against your own, his fingers tightening—pushing you closer, groaning before he pulls away with a smirk on his swollen lips, only for his hand to move to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back as he places sloppy, chaste kisses up your neck “come on, babygirl. how about you let me make it up to you, hmmm?”
ఌ OSAMU you were in his office as he glares at you, your back pressed against his desk. “you need to rest, samu.” “and a told ya, a cant. ya agreed ta this when ya married me.” “all i want is a fucking minute of your time.” you snap, and a silence falls over the room when your voice raises. you feel your breathing hitch when you notice samu approaching you, his eyes darker now from what you can see under his cap, but all your thoughts melt away when you feel his tongue forcefully slide past your lips to taste your own. your mind feels hazy, trying to focus on his deep groans against you before he leans forward to swipe the paperwork off of his desk behind you, hands grabbing your thighs to lift you ontop afterwards as his body cages you against it. “s-samu—“ you whine, your words cut off as he pulls away, his tongue suddenly replaced by his fingers as stuffs two inside your mouth. “be good and keep that pretty mouth of yers quiet, angel.” samu groans while you nod in reply, your tongue sliding over the digits and you watch his swollen lips part as he groans deeply, leaning over you once more. “shit—so good, ya were fuckin’ made for me.”
ఌ IWAIZUMI got jealous, he trusted you but something about the way you giggled at oikawa’s jokes really irked him today. both of you return home and hajime slams the door behind you both, finally causing you to blow “what’s your fucking problem, iwa?” “don’t fucking piss me off.” “or what? gonna pout about it?” your teasing tone immediately drops when you feel your back slam against the door behind you, iwaizumi’s eyes are darker this time as his hands grab your wrists, pinning them beside you while he moves to bite at the sensitive spot on your neck before smoothing it over with his tongue. “you better watch that fucking mouth, doll.” you open your mouth to reply, but instead his lips latch onto your own— his tongue not giving you a chance to think, never mind speak as it slides along your own. your back arches against his chest as he groans into the kiss, only pulling away to scoff while you whine at the loss, before iwaizumi takes both of your wrists in one hand in favour of roughly grabbing your jaw instead. “you know he’ll never make you feel as fucking good as i do.”
ఌ SUNA glared at you tiredly as he lay back on his forearms “do you not have anything to say, rintarō?” suna only scoffs, rolling his eyes before he eventually speaks “are you done?” and you want to scream, but before you can you feel yourself stumbling towards him, his slender fingers moving to the base of your neck as you fall into his lap. you could whimper at the heated look he’s giving you, but you feel the tension in your shoulders melt when his lips meet yours instead, hearing him groan deeply as his tongue sloppily slides over your own at a lazy pace, one that always has you whimpering against him before he pulls away, admiring the hazy look in your eyes while you feel his fingers tighten around your throat. “still so pretty for being such a fucking brat.” suna drawls, and the slight loss of oxygen has your heart hammering against your chest as you almost stumble over an apology. his lips move to ghost yours once more causing you to whimper, his free hand moving to slap the flesh of your thigh before he smooths over the red skin “where’s that attitude now, huh?”
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dearomi · 12 hours ago
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featuring… fem!reader, iwaizumi hajime, meian shugo, miya atsumu
warnings… age gaps, daddy kinks, unprotected sex, voyeurism, sending sex tapes to a gc, public sex, car sex
word count… 798
a message from shae… idk if i like this but i felt like posting so here u go
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- SHOWS !! YOU !! OFF !!
- all this mf knows how to do is brag to his friends about how pretty his baby is
- nothing makes his cock chest swell more than walking into an event with you on his arm, all dolled up in something he paid for
when the notification popped up, every member of the retired msby team sighed heavily in their respective homes, their spouses laughing because they know a sigh like that means atsumu had sent something to the group chat.
they were expecting a link to their old highlight reels, maybe a strange selfie or something. what they actually saw had each and everyone of them coughing in surprise, turning to hide their phones from wandering eyes.
the screen shows a sloppily filmed scene right out of a wet dream. you, thighs spread, slick shining in the flash centered on your cunt, the prettiest sounds dancing through the speakers, sounds of the wet slaps of your thighs against atsumu’s, your soft whines and moans, and atsumu’s voice behind the camera, laughing as your back arches up off of the bed.
“pretty aint she, boys?” he chuckles, his hand snaking into the frame to squeeze one of your bouncing tits.
“c’mon, baby, smile for the camera,” he says as he pans to your face. each of the four men groan at the sight of you, absolutely cockdrunk, a boozy grin on your face as you gaze at the camera. the video ends there, captioned with a little text that reads:
all mine ;)
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- lil bit of a meanie ngl
- type of man to edge you for hours, overstim you till you’re crying, and then take you on a shopping spree the next day as an apology
- very cliche, but he is the type to clear out an entire store so he can fuck you in the dressing room
“you gotta be quiet, baby. don’t want that cashier to hear, do you?” he muses, hands squeezing your waist to pull you further on to his cock. you feel him bump against that spot, sending shivers down your spine and a cry of pure ecstasy up from your throat.
you try to reply, your pleas coming out as broken cries of “please, daddy, please.” he fucks into you harder, groaning at the way your cunt throbs and clenches around him as you cream and shake your way through another orgasm.
“there you go, baby, make a fucking mess on me, just like that,” he whispers, hands gripping bruises into your sides as he stares at you through the long mirror in the dressing room.
he keeps his eyes on yours when he cums, his gaze not flicking from yours for even a moment as he pumps you full.
you two walk out just moments later, your cheeks growing hot at the stare coming from the cashier just outside the dressing room, still holding at least three expensive gowns in their hands.
“we’ll take em all,” hajime says as he strides to the register, followed by you and the cashier.
he’s still grinning once he reaches the register, pulling you closer to him, ignoring the uncomfortable cough coming from the cashier as they ring him up.
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- you’re the one who shows him off
- the kind of sugar daddy that makes your friends jealous, all salt n pepper hair and muscles that still haven’t pudged out despite his age, loads of money, massive cock, everyone wants him tbh
- makes him so proud when you bring him out to have lunch with your friends, only for you to beg him to fuck you in the restaurant parking lot before you walk in, just so they can see how wrecked he leaves you
“shit, baby, just like that, keep fucking me like that,” he groans, hands squeezing your ass underneath your flimsy sundress.
he ruts his hips up, grinning when your eyes roll back as he wraps his arms around your waist and fucks up into you.
“is this what you want? want me to fuck you stupid so all your friends can see how good daddy treats his baby?”
you whimper out a meek “yes”, reaching for the headrest behind him for support, your brain turning to mush as his balls slap against your ass. your legs shake, nails digging into the expensive leather of the car seat as he fucks you through your orgasm. he’s not too far after you, filling you up with rope after sticky rope of his cum.
once you walk in, your friends are already seated, nearly gawking at the man beside you. he pretends he doesn’t notice their stares, you pretend you can walk straight, and all your friends pretend they don’t see the cum dripping down your thighs as you stumble towards the table.
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ellewords · a day ago
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“keiji, and i say this with the utmost respect for you as a friend, you’re an idiot.”
to be fair, so were you. what kind of idiot pushes the person they like to confess to somebody else? you chuckle, gently shoving his shoulder in an attempt to hide the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. 
akaashi shakes his head, brushing away the hair that’s fallen past his eyes, “how am i an idiot?”
“you’ve spent the past half hour ranting to me about how much you like this person.” you bite your bottom lip, hesitating for just a few seconds. your hands find the hem of your shirt, fingers nervously fiddling with the material, “why don’t you just call them and ask them out? wouldn’t you want to spend your birthday with them?”
instead of me, you think to yourself.
“it’s just- i don’t think they like me back.” he replies without a single trace of uncertainty. a smile forms on his lips, but you’ve known him long enough that you could tell when he was faking. there’s a bitterness in the way the corner of his mouth quirked, a quiet scoff escaping his lips at your confused expression.
“they definitely like you back.”
you don’t even know who this person is. all you know is akaashi came bursting through your apartment door, pacing, wondering what he could do to stop the rapid beating of his chest when this person was around, and deliberating whether or not asking them to spend the day with him would be too forward. 
akaashi’s brows knit together, tilting his head to the side, “how are you so sure?”
“because you’re you, they’d be an idiot not to like you back.” you say it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and to you it was. who wouldn’t fall in love with akaashi? part of you wished you could be selfish and discourage him, but who were you to deny someone the gift of his affection? you had been on the receiving end of it for a couple of months now, granted in a more platonic sense. you take his phone, resting on the coffee table in front of the two of you, and place it in his hand. “just call them and ask them out already.”
akaashi nods, scrolling through his phone until he reaches a familiar name. your eyes instinctively screw shut, wanting to spare yourself the pain of having to watch him confess to someone. someone who isn’t you.
but then, the strangest thing happens :  your phone starts to ring.
your eyes go wide, looking up at him with shock only to find akaashi with the tiniest, most unsure smile you’ve ever seen from him. 
“are you going to pick up?”
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from elle !  happy birthday to my darling keiji <3
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minejiro · a day ago
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it’s half past three, and tsukishima could not be more appalled with himself right now—and maybe it’s not a bad thing, maybe it’s a good one, but he’s not sure who he is anymore.
there’s no reason he should be this weak to you, there’s no reason you should hold this much power over him, but you do. you do and you know it and you’re evil. you use it to your full advantage.
“where are we even goin—”
“kei, shut up,” you will your eyes. “why do you always have something to say?” scoffing, he stops the car at a red light, pressing on the breaks and turning to face you. and he hates to admit it, but the moonlight kissing your skin through the windows makes his heart beat rapidly.
“would you shut up—”
“quit staring at me,” you smirk, reaching over to pinch his cheek. he swats your hand away—gently—and scowls, grumbling under his breath at your supposed claim. he rolls his eyes at your entitlement, but tsukishima refuses to admit, even to himself, that he was in fact staring. and he can’t say he regrets it.
“was not staring at you, stupid.”
“you so were,” you laugh, and he grunts, shaking his head as he stares at you unimpressed. it’s a battle that costs him just about all of his self control to not stare at your lips, but he wins—miraculously. otherwise he’d have to hear even more of your teasing, and he doesn’t think his eyes will recover from another round of rolling them this time.
“no i was not. i was just…looking at the…the moon,” he nods, frowning and flicking your forehead at the smug grin you give him. and he should be asleep, he’s opening at the museum tomorrow, but you said please, and you pouted, and he’s not as strong as he claims to be—though he’ll never admit it.
so now he’s here, and he’s fighting for his dignity as you wiggle your brows playfully at him, but tsukishima doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere else right about now.
“okay, mister, if you say so,” you snort. holding a finger at him, you put on a serious face—but he can see the slight tilt of your lips, and he fights off the smile that threatens to surface on his own lips at the sight. “and by the way, the light’s green now, dummy. pay attention.”
giggling as he curses under his breath and presses on the gas pedal, you slide your hand over his shoulder to play with the hairs at the back of his neck, and he pretends to lean back and try to shake your hand off, but you both know it’s his way of leaning further into your touch. and you grant him more of what he craves, rubbing over the back of his neck soothingly as he drives.
“okay, well you’re supposed to be giving me directions, so where do i go now?” he mutters. you shrug, and he groans.
“i don’t know, i’ve been making up directions this whole time. just wanted to drive around. anyway, did you know van gogh’s starry night was painted from his window in an asylum?” side eyeing you, he purses his lips, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh. and even if you dragged him out of bed for no reason, on a work night, while he was asleep, he can’t help but find every annoying little quirk of yours endearing—even this one.
“what does that have to do with anything?” he asks flatly. and tsukishima’s not an easy book to read, but he’s well worth it, you think. he makes you want to skip the pages and jump right to the end—and he’s the kind of story you pray ends happy. because you want it to—you need it to end happy, and needless to say, he craves the same too.
“just a fun fact, jeez,” you huff. “you got plenty of fun facts you’re always whipping out. you love to hear yourself talk, you know that?”
“one of these days, when i send you to an asylum, maybe you can paint too,” he smirks at you. the soft slap to his shoulder causes him to chuckle in amusement, making you send the softest of grins at his directions.
yeah, things seem like they’ll end happy, you think.
“you’ll never last a day without me,” you quip, and to your surprise, he laughs softly. and it’s gentle, much gentler than you usually hear from him, and you’re not used to it. but it’s perfect, and so is everything else about tsukishima kei, even in the most unconventional of ways.
“yeah, probably won’t,” he hums, and one hand lays gently on your thigh as he drives mindlessly with the other on the wheel. “but at least i’ll sleep well,” he adds with smug grin, and you decide right then and there that if tsukishima isn’t your happy ending, you don’t think you want one. ever.
“i love you, kei,” you murmur, looking at him with a look so sweet, he gulps. and he hopes you don’t notice it, or the way his expression softens too.
“yeah,” he mumbles. “love you too.” you lace your fingers with his, setting his hand back down onto your lap. he squeezes yours gently. “love it more when you sleep, though.”
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a/n: i can’t believe i wrote tsukki. i’m anti tsukki. but it’s for ris so fuck you & you better like it @cyuus also thanks for the fun fact
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343 notes · View notes
rinslove · a day ago
pairing(s): roommate!kozume kenma x gn!reader
warnings: angst if you squint, use of pet name (bub)
autumn's note: hdkshdjs these are so fun to write pls
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roommate!kenma who moves in with you after seeing your advertisement for a room in a two-bedroom apartment pinned up in his university and decides it's better than craigslist.
roommate!kenma who stays in his room most of the time and there's never any noise from behind the door, sometimes making you think he's no longer alive and making you so nervous you have to press your ear against the door to wait for a sound of movement from inside to calm your anxiety.
roommate!kenma who only manages small talk at first and only when prompted by you.
roommate!kenma who doesn't know you have friends round when he finally steps out of his bedroom after sleeping for almost sixteen hours and thinks you're in class, shrinking under the stares of the people in the living room.
roommate!kenma who feels his face heat up when you send him a wide smile and an apology for not telling him you were having people round, assuring you that it's okay now and then again later when you keep on apologising.
roommate!kenma who, after two months of living with you, initiates a conversation when he stands in the kitchen one morning, where he's pouring himself and now you a mug of coffee for some sort of energy.
roommate!kenma who sits beside you on the sofa playing games on his switch whilst you watch netflix, pushing himself to try and befriend you.
roommate!kenma who doesn't necessarily want to go to the frat party you were dressed up for but goes anyway to keep you company, sticking by your side for the entire night.
roommate!kenma who doesn't tell you he's started a twitch channel until you walk into his room one night to ask if he could help you revise for your upcoming exam.
roommate!kenma who blushes at the way you praise him later that night, telling him how he's so cool and he'll definitely be popular soon.
roommate!kenma who realises his feelings after you rather easily persuaded him into baking with him when he said he had no stream ideas, when you proudly hold up the tray of cookies you had assisted him with towards the camera with a smile making his heart flutter.
roommate!kenma who doesn't mean to shut you out after that day, it just happens.
roommate!kenma who streams a little less because he knows you watch all of them and he doesn't want you to see him.
roommate!kenma who waits until you're in your room before he goes to the kitchen for food or leaves to the bathroom, doing all he can to avoid you.
roommate!kenma who freezes when you enter the kitchen while he waits for his food to microwave, avoiding looking at you in your pyjamas because he knows he won't be able to look away.
roommate!kenma who feels his heart break when you ask what you did to him, your voice cracking with tears in your eyes.
roommate!kenma who finally looks at you and his face burns red, realising how he has to tell you now because he doesn't think he can handle you crying anymore because of him.
roommate!kenma who stares down at his fluffy socks and waits for your reaction, he feels significantly smaller after his confession.
roommate!kenma who wills himself to react in a way other than remaining still when you kiss him, neither of you letting any words escape for a few seconds before he kisses you again.
roommate!kenma who asks you to join him in his streams every now and again, offering you that you choose to do whatever you wanted.
roommate!kenma who doesn't mean to call you bub on stream — it just slips out! besides, it's not like the viewers didn't already have a feeling about it, though.
roommate!kenma who says 'i love you' first and by accident when you're both messaging around, not meaning for it to slip out. once he sees your reaction he processes what he just said, he completely freezes at your silence. you smile and say i love you too, a blush rising to his cheeks.
roommate!kenma who doesn't tell you that he bought you both a house a ten minutes out of the city, waiting a few weeks until he's finished doing most of the decorating with kuroo's help before saying he has a surprise for you. you had expected something small, but when he shows you what it actually is, you're speechless.
roommate!kenma who shows you around nervously as you don't say anything. when he's finished, he looks at you expectantly. he's beginning to have doubts until you say you love it, and he just melts into your hug.
roommate!kenma who spends months planning out the proposal with help from kuroo again to perfection and can't stop smiling after you say yes.
roommate!kenma who's just happy he missed his bus and had to wander around campus for an hour before the next one and found the advertisement for a new roommate posted by you, grateful he didn't choose the one beside it.
168 notes · View notes
localraspberry · 2 days ago
Hello there 👋. Can I request hcs of Ushijima, Daichi, and Kurro with a sub bottom male reader, where they were getting ready to have sex and before they start reader steps out to surprise them. After some time reader comes back in a reverse bunny suit and it just awakens something in them. While they're being rough they're praising reader for being a good bunny for them. I hope this is good. '^^
This..I love this
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Bunny boy headcannons
Characters featured: Ushijima, Daichi, Kuroo
Reader pronouns: He/Him
Warning(s): NSFW content, Sub bottom reader, no prep mentioned but still given, cosplay sex(?), Mirror sex, oral (m!receiving), anal sex, no aftercare mentioned but still given NOT PROOFREAD
A/N: Ngl is had to look up what a reverse bunny suit was. Hope this was good and I'm sorry for the wait!
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I feel like this smug bastard was probably the one to bring up the idea
He's probably thought about you dressing up ever since your first time having hardcore sex
You were just coming home from grocery shopping when he was standing at the doorway holding the small bag that had the outfit in it
Obviously you wanted to know what was in it but this dumb cat just smirked at you and said "go find out pretty boy~"
Needless to say when you stepped out in the outfit he practically went feral and took you right on the couch 🥴
Although he was being so rough with you, he never failed to shower you with praise
The contrast between his sweet words and his harsh thrusts inside you made your mind go numb
Yeah, you should wear the suit again
"you look so sexy baby. I knew buying you that pretty little outfit would be a good idea♡"
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Unlike Kuroo, you had bought the suit yourself and wanted to surprise Daichi for when he got off work
You had dressed up while having sex before so it wasn't unfamiliar territory
You sat on your bed waiting for him to come home and occasionally fixing something on your outfit
When the bedroom door had opened and Daichi stood in the doorway, looking you up and down before you spoke up
"Well? Do ya like it?"
He definitely liked it
You didn't even need a verbal answer
The way he slammed into you was more than reassuring
You could've sworn the headboard was gonna break with how hard you two were gripping it
"Fuck baby boy, you really know how to treat me don't you? I just wanna keep fucking you all night. Would you like that?♡"
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Just like Daichi you bought the suit yourself
It had just arrived in the mail and you wanted to try it on before Ushijima got home
So you were admiring yourself in the mirror lookin' all sexyyy and shii
When this mf bursts through the door with no warning at all
Swear for such a big man, his footsteps were pretty damn quiet
"You look..very handsome (M/N)"
His face was so red good lord
To fluster Wakatoshi Ushijima...a guy can dream
He was ALSO rocking a raging hard-on
Y'all hear it everywhere but this man is PACKING
You don't remember what happened after that
Only thing that matters now is that Ushijima is under you, giving you the best head you could ever receive, while making you watch your facial expressions in the mirror in front of your bed
"You taste so good darling, but don't take your eyes away from that mirror. I want you to watch it and see how good I'm making you feel♡"
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Hope you enjoyed that!
221 notes · View notes
peachysamu · 2 days ago
A/n: im sobbing while I write my vows so here’s an outlet and maybe a couple phrases of what ill be telling my own irl iwa in a few weeks. crying
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“I remember when—“ and you can’t help but smile at the way his fingers tremble in yours. He’s the pinnacle of strength and has got the core muscles to balance himself among your tumultuous storm. Rigid in form he may be, (some people like Oikawa might even say he’s a little too stiff) he shows you vulnerability within your touch, only something for you to hold, something to call your own.
He tsks at the beam you display but his pout only smoothes into an unwilling bite of a smile. There’s adoration in his eyes and you’re unaware of how much time passes as you share this moment until he nods his head and urges you to continue forward. It’s easy to forget that the light and the attention are on you when his eyes focus on yours.
But you shake your head. The show must go on. “I remember when I met your mom for the first time. Back when we first started dating and you were a nervous and sweaty mess.”
A shut up from Iwaizumi drowns out from the laughter that surrounds you. “And your mom had told me the meaning of your name. Beginning.”
It was a story of love and you never knew, that at that moment, you and his mother shared a love so deep that you failed to comprehend until months later. Iwaizumi’s parents faced a fruitless endeavor for years, struggling to stay on track with the plan of having children two years after marriage. Iwaizumi came ten years later, a miracle, a gift, a new beginning. You’ll never forget the love in her eyes as she shared the tale, looking longingly at the son who talks happily with his father in the kitchen. And she’ll never forget the way your eyes followed and held the same exact weight that she had beared since he was born.
“And in that moment, I don’t know.” The rush of your own nostalgia renders you speechless for just a moment. Iwaizumi’s grip on your hands tighten as if trying to remind you that he’s here and that he always will be. “I just remember thinking, there is no way you could have ever been more perfectly named. I think I truly fell in love with you then and there.”
You laugh at the sudden realization. You’ve known you loved him for a while, but in that moment, love feels like it has manifested into a physical form. It is him right before your eyes. It is the heaviness in your gut, and the clench of your throat. It is the tears that make the journey from your eyes, down your chin, and splatter against your heart. It is laughter in spite of crying. It is anguish that someone has the capacity to coax all these emotions out of you and euphoria that you are loved and one of the lucky ones.
“I thought, ‘Yeah, you’re right. He’s my beginning too.’” The tremble is back in your hands but you can no longer differentiate whether it is his or yours that shakes. “And you remind me every time we fight, but refuse to go to bed angry. And every time we’d talk on the phone while we were long distance and you struggled to say goodbye. And when you plug in my phone after I’ve forgotten and fallen asleep. You are the beginning of love. You are the rest of my life.”
With Hajime who means beginnings, you know there is no end in sight.
160 notes · View notes
sunbeamx · 2 days ago
How your first kiss with them would go
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with: songs
genre: fluff
type: song cannons (I CAME UP WITH A CONCEPT BYE)
ft: multiple characters x gn!reader
a/n: i have no clue how to name it so i’m just gonna give a gist. it’s basically songs with time stamps and a little description about the setting. idk how else to say it just read you’ll see😭
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Right at 1:03
i wrote a song for you, and all the things you do, and it was called yellow
You’re in his room and he probably has the LED lights on
The both of you are messing around, and you’re throwing pillows at him cause he said something stupid
The song’s playing in the background and all of a sudden he holds you by the waist and rests his hand under your chin
He looks into your eyes for what seems like forever
And smiles right before his lips crash yours
Oikawa, Kuroo, Tendou, Hinata, Bokuto, Terushima
at 1:12
your voice lives in my head, when i’m in bed, when i’m not feeling confident
When he’s listening to music while trying to make breakfast but you’re touch deprived
And you’ve just woken up so you’re very drowsy
You just hug him from the back
He turns around to face you with a smile like you’ve never seen before
He pulls you in his arms, your face buried in his chest
The song starts playing in the back since the music is on shuffle
You start swaying to the melody and he holds you by the arms causing you to look at him
Then he smiles and leans in to kiss you
“Good morning”
Ushijima, Akaashi, Kita, Suga, Kyotani, Osamu
at 1:48
as long as i got you, i’m gonna be alright, as long as i got you, i’m not afraid to die
You both get off the bus, hand in hand
The both of you have one earplug in your ears and are listening to music together
When you’re walking the cloud water starts tumbling down
You rush to find shelter but suddenly you felt him grab your hand by the wrist
The songs playing
“as long as I got you”
He starts singing while leaning closer to you
“i’m gonna be alright”
You stop dead in the tracks and look into his eyes; they’re filled with nothing but love
“as long as i got you”
The words are now almost a whisper as he leans in to the point where both your foreheads are against each other
“i’m not afraid to die”
His lips finally meet yours
Atsumu, Daichi, Kenma, Matsukawa, Konoha, Suna
After the song ends
You both likes eachother
EVERYONE knew but you both just couldn’t believe the fact that the other liked you
So everyone set up a plan
They both dragged you to a party and set up a karaoke machine
You both were forced to sing together
He finally took the risk and help you hand the whole time you both sang
After the song was over it was like it was just the both of you in the room
He kissed you like there was no tomorrow
Asahi, Nishinoya, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Lev, Iwaizumi, Semi
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taglist: join here
@ri-days @just-that-bi-girl @bokubear @yatsurinamikaze @sakusaww @mxtchalilies
142 notes · View notes
oooobokuto · 2 days ago
honestly just thinking about fireman!daichi who constantly keeps you up whenever he suddenly is on call, but once he finally comes home to you, it’s the best feeling in the world. it’s tough being married to someone who works in such a dangerous force, and you know that he would do anything to make sure his team and the families he’s saving make it out alive, even if it means that he might have to put his own at risk. that’s just him. what can i say? he’s got a heart of gold. anyways, he comes home, looking a little worn and tired, but that’s how you both know that he did well. his buddies insisted that he slept at the station that night, told him it was too dangerous to drive home, but all he could say to them was “gotta get back to my girl.” and he does. he always does. he comes back home to you, and he sees you on the couch, watching some stupid show on netflix, and he immediately scoops you up in to his arms, carrying you into bed. he spends the rest of the night inside of you, letting you know he’s really there. he’s really home. 
108 notes · View notes
mitsuyaya · 2 days ago
kitten, don't go outside | kenma kozume x gn reader
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warnings:: timeskip kenma, angst (just a bit), fluff-ish, suggestive (just mentions of ya know), infidelity
note:: HI @kirakirasaku 😭😭😭 please the song is stuck in my head and you came into mind sorry for the trash susbisbsis 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ brb gonna go burry myself. the song is: Hele (Huwag ka nang umalis) by because
side note:: Based on ate Ella's translation: Alam mo namang kaluguran da ka means ‘you know I like you’
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The blistering cold seeps through the slightly opened window, even the freezing wind couldn't outweigh the heavy feeling residing in your chest. The situation isn't helping either, the man beside you, Kenma Kozume, is of no use either.
The marks from your earlier activity are still engraved in his skin, angry red scratches and crescent marks are still evident on his back and forearms, love marks scattered on his neck, the same could be said for you. Blue and purple shade of hickeys are blossoming around your chest, it never fails to make you realize that he really doesn't have any restraints when it comes to this.
It must be the cold breeze because of winter, or that wretched feeling, or a mix of both, you don't know, but that sinking feeling is horrible. You couldn't find it in yourself to get up and leave, not when the man beside you looks heavenly. Strands of hair covering his eyes, he looks like a cat, sleeping soundly. Without a care in the world, without having to worry about anything.
You envy him, how he could be at peace during this moment. While you sat on the bed, lost in thought, your conscience kept you awake.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
It seems you failed to realize that he's been awake the whole time, that he was simply resting his eyes. Just like you, he couldn't sleep, he never did have a normal sleeping schedule. It's normal for him to be awake, to be up at this hour but you– you're never awake at this hour.
He knows it, he saw you sleep peacefully at this hour, it's what he does every night. Watch you head to bed, twisting and turning, even pushing him and leaving him to sleep on the cold carpet. Nights where he spends just adoring you, confessing to you knowing you're asleep and wouldn't hear anything that he just said. He knows it, just like he knows that there's something bothering you and keeping you awake.
“This is wrong, I shouldn't be here”
You shouldn't, he shouldn't. You're both stuck here, in the dead of night, the raging snow storm outside– you shouldn't be here. He knows why, he knows all things, but he couldn't care less. All he wants is for you to be by his side, even if it's just for a bit of time, even just for one night, just after the snow storm passes.
“I should be back in my home, I shouldn't be seen with you, I should be with him”
He knows who you meant, him, that guy you married for the sake of your parents. Him, who dares steal you from Kenma. Him, who looks so smug, who took you away and made your life miserable. The guy who couldn't care less about his spouse, never bothering to go home at night, never letting you associate with any men except himself. That man is a prick. You know, he knows.
Kenma knows where you truly belong. It should've been him.
“I should go, thanks for letting me stay” you stood up from the bed, not bothering to look at him, because you know when you look at those eyes, you can't leave him. You couldn't, and it's all wrong.
Gathering your clothes that are sprawled on the floor, you were pulled back, colliding with his chest. It's happening again.
“Kitten, don't go outside. Don't leave me, I can't- he's not worth it please stay with me”
'Wag nang umalis, 'wag nang lumabas
Hayaan mo na lang sila na maghanap
The heavy burden you're feeling is once again resurfacing, it's not guilt, it's pity. You know you should be feeling guilty for doing this, for being with Kenma, but you couldn't– maybe it's because you think that he deserves it, or you really love Kenma that you couldn't find it in yourself to care about that guy.
“I can't, he's my husband, I'm his spouse”
It's pity, pity that you need to leave him like this. That like any other night, you'd leave him after what you both did, after you enjoyed all the attention you got from him. It's pity, that after all this time you couldn't tell him you love him, that during the day, that your head is clear and isn't filled with lust, you couldn't tell him the words ‘I love you.’
“Stay with me, run away with me, I don't care just don't leave”
He keeps you in his tight embrace, nuzzling his face into your neck. It's a silent plea, hoping that you'll stay, that unlike the other nights where you have to leave, this time you'll stay, that hopefully you won't have to leave him again– that this time you'll stay with
Oh ipikit ang mga mata
Ang isipin ay 'wag iinda muna
Kenma wishes for you to stay this way, for you to be in his arms. To pretend that this is permanent, that you won't have to go back to him. That it's him you truly belong to.
It's wrong. “I won't leave, I'll stay here but I can't stay here forever hm” It's wrong, but as of now, you don't care. He comes first, the rest is up to fate to decide. You love him, more than anything and even if you couldn't tell him those words exactly, you know he understands it.
“Hey kitten… alam mo namang kaluguran da ka, so I'll do anything for you, I promise”
Sa sandali, iyong damdamin ang
Pag-ibig ko sa 'yo
Eto ang pangako ko sa 'yo
“I know Kenma”
Even if you couldn't say those words out of fear, fear of not giving the same love he gives to you. You know in time, after this obstacle, you'll be able to stay with him forever, and you'd finally have the courage to tell him those words.
You leaned into his touch, engulfing you in his warm embrace– soon, this will be forever.
“But did I say it right y/n?”
“Yes you did”
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85 notes · View notes
saintmanjiro · a day ago
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warnings: fem! reader, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, overstimulation
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bokuto’s absolutely bubbling on the inside, he’s been trying to keep himself calm the whole car ride home. but to his dismay, his hard on is as stiff and throbbing as ever, and somehow, he manages to score every red light possible. he should’ve known better than to open a message from you after he knows you went shopping, after he knows you were gonna show him an all too flattering outfit (and all too revealing too) but he couldn’t help himself.
you’re lucky you’ve sent it once he was already in the comforts of his car, but he’s still made it his mission to drill a lesson into you.
“k-kou,” you whimper, back arching off the bed, legs forced apart by two muscular arms, thrown over broad shoulders. “kou, please,” you whine, gasping when his tongue flicks over your clit, his fingers hitting the spot that makes you see stars.
“please what, baby?” he’s so sweet, always so soft, but you can see the glint in his eyes, and it makes the heat in between your legs grow more present.
“please let me cum this time,” you sob. and bokuto’s not exactly a sadist, but he likes his ego inflated, he’s one for the praise and the attention. so if he’s got to turn you into a mess so he knows you’re losing your mind for his cock, he’ll turn you into a mess.
“but i want you to cum on my cock,” he faux pouts. you writhe as he sucks harshly on your clit, feeling yourself approach your orgasm. you’re so close, just one more precise thrust of his fingers is all it would take, but he pulls away, grinning as you sob at the loss of his appendages. he smirks at the way your eyes are wet and your lips are wobbly. maybe he’s a little bit of a sadist. but he takes care of his needy girlfriend, he always does. “say you need it.”
“i need it,” you all but scream.
“need what?” he knows it’s a bit excessive, but he can’t help himself.
“y-your cock, kou! i need it.” and that’s all it takes. truth be told, bokuto wasn’t sure if he could wait another second, he wasn’t sure if the throbbing in his cock was going to be anymore tolerable. his head was leaking and his balls were heavy, and he just needed release. he slides past your folds with ease, groaning loudly at the way your walls clench around him, at the way you were so warm in contrast to the cool air.
“f-fuck,” he moans, clasping his hands with yours, fingers lacing as he pulls them to lay over your head. “baby, been—hah— been waiting for th-this since the drive home.” and bokuto can hardly pace himself, thrusting into you wildly, tip hitting your spot with accuracy each time, harsh and rough as he tries to relieve the ache in his member.
he’s groaning into your ear, each one broken off at the end by small whines every time you clamp down on him, voice so pretty as it cracks every now and then. he’s letting out broken strings of curses, balls slapping against your ass as his skin forms a small sheen from the sweat. the way you’d been denied so many times, the way one of his hands lets go of yours to move to your tits, thumb swiping over your nipple has you cumming in no time with a broken wail, spasming around his cock, making him whimper at the feeling.
“k-kou, kou!” you chant his name, tears streaming down your face as he relentlessly slams his hips down, fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his. his name is the only thing that rolls off your tongue.
“fuck, fuck, that’s it baby,” he cries. it’s almost too much, the way he keeps slamming into your spot, the way he’s moved his hand to rub over your clit, the way he’s sucking harshly into the skin of your collarbone. “fuck give me more, baby—hah—n-need more.”
bokuto’s not gonna stop anytime soon. you both know this. he’s gonna need a lot more to ease the ache of his throbbing cock, and you’ve only just begun.
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kairakeiji · 13 hours ago
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keiji akaashi spent much more time in the library than he’d like to admit.
from studying to researching to just wandering through the bookshelves for new reads, akaashi always found himself in the library. at this point, he was certain that the librarian knew him by name. at this point, he was certain that the table in the back near the encyclopedias and bay window was reserved just for him. the library was a perfect place for him after all, it was a place where he could study, get work done, and get lost in the literature surrounding him.
akaashi's certain he's combed through all the sections of the library, having read most of the books that piqued his interest. he for sure knew the location of his favorite books on the library shelves, in case he ever wanted to come back and reread them. yet despite his interest in mysteries and fiction stories, there's always been one section he's always tended to avoid.
the romance section.
he didn't know why he tended to avoid that section. maybe because of that one sappy, shitty novel he read years back, or maybe because he wasn't too interested in reading a love story. it seemed as if he neglected the section, opting to run back to his comfort zones of crime and mystery. but when akaashi made his way to the library that day, something tugged at him to check the section, to finally give the books there a chance. so he took a right at nonfiction instead of his usual left as he reached the one part of the library that was unfamiliar to him.
and in the section stood you, eyes glossing over the many book titles as your fingers ran over the spines.
and suddenly akaashi wishes he visited the romance section sooner.
you met his gaze with a kind smile, "it's you!"
it makes akaashi blink, "it's me?"
"yeah the boy who always takes the good desk near the window," you replied. "it's like the best table in the library."
but he pauses once more, "you know me?"
"well," you start with a shrug, "kind of? sort of? i just see you here all the time."
"so then i take it you're here as often as me?"
and you smile, pulling a book off the shelves, "i suppose so, i'm here a lot to study like you are. but you're never in the romance section though."
"and how do you know that?"
"if you were i would've definitely started a conversation."
"just like you are now?" he asks with a smile.
and you point towards him mirroring his grin, "exactly."
akaashi's eyes follow yours as you look over the cover of a book, not able to catch sight of the cover before your attention goes back to him.
"so bay window boy," you start, closing the book you planned on checking out. "why are you in the romance section?"
and akaashi only shrugs a small smile on his lips at the nickname, "not too sure, i just thought i'd give it a try today."
"romance isn't your genre i take it?" you ask.
"i mean i'm never in the section here am i?"
"fair point," your eyes light up, "well that's exciting, do you want recommendations or anything? i can help you find a good book."
"that sounds nice," he sighs.
"perfect, i think i have just the book," you reply, eyes going back towards the shelves as your fingers run back over the spines, "where is it, where is it," you mumble.
and akaashi can only watch, drawn in by the fact that someone else seemed to know this library like the back of their hand. he isn't sure how he hasn't noticed you before, considering how you're in here just as often as he is.
he wishes he met you sooner.
"here it is!" you smile, standing up straight as you hand him a book.
"the hidden meanings," he mumbles reading off the cover.
"it's a story about this flower shop owner who sees this pretty girl come in and ask for flower recommendations."
"i didn't think flower shops gave recommendations."
"well i mean if you want certain flowers for certain situations i guess," you laugh. "it's really cute and has a whole lot of symbolism in it, it's a good starter."
"interesting," he mumbled, flipping through the short book. "i'll give it a try then."
and you can only smile, "i'm so glad! you have to let me know how it goes."
"and how am i supposed to do that?" akaashi smiles.
"i mean i am in the library 24/7," you laugh. "just like you are."
"but what if i finish it and i'm not in the library?"
"then," you extend your hand. "i can put my number in your phone."
his heart skips a beat, "sure." and you type your digits into his phone.
"there we go," you smile. "make sure to update me, okay?"
and akaashi nods, looking up at you on seeing of your contact name.
the pretty romance connoisseur it read, and akaashi couldn't help the small laugh that left his lips.
"so i don't get your real name then?" he asks watching as you turn to leave the romance section.
"you gotta text me to find out," you smile. "i don't know yours either."
"akaashi," he offers instantly. "my name's akaashi."
you pause as you reach the end of the shelf "i think i like bay window boy better," you laugh.
and before akaashi could protest you were gone.
how odd of an interaction was that, he thought to himself. akaashi didn't even get your name, all he got was a nickname, a phone number, and a book that he now had to read. he flipped through the pages of the book again, now pushing his agenda to the side as he went to check it out.
because if finishing the book would lead to him seeing you again, akaashi didn't want to waste a single second.
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happy birthday to my darling keiji <33
thanks for reading!! reblogs are so so appreciated. 
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sunarent · 2 days ago
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chapter ten
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series masterlist
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It has only been a few days. You were gone for a mere few days.
So why did it feel so weird being back?
Nothing has changed. The kitchen was still clean, no pots in the sink, chairs neatly pushed to the table, the very same jackets hanging on the side when you enter your home. Your bed was still made, floors rid of any dirty laundry. The only difference was the messy couch, your favorite throw blanket lazily folded on the side, a few pillows looking squashed.
It was still the very same home.
And still you have never felt more anxious than you did right now, sitting on the very same couch that stood in the living room that you had made so many memories in as you were waiting for your husband to come home. Eyes constantly darting to the clock on the wall, checking the time, rubbing your hands over your bottoms to dry your sweaty hands, cracking your knuckles and tapping your foot on the floor - doing almost anything to make the time pass.
And before you even knew it, the front door opened and a panting, sweating young man stumbled in, whose eyes immediately found your figure once he entered the living room.
You stared at each other for long moments before you finally found the courage to speak up. »Hi Tsum« you whispered, teeth pressed into the flesh of your bottom lip.
»You’re home« he stated, almost like he didn’t believe you were actually here, his voice hushed, not much louder than a whisper.
Slowly nodding you couldn’t help but smile a little. »Yeah« you affirmed, eyes still not leaving him as he slowly stepped closer to you »I am«
»I- uh-« Atsumu cleared his throat, coming to a halt a few steps in front of you, quickly glancing at the empty space next to you, almost like he was contemplating if he should sit down before he looked back at you. »I‘m glad that you‘re home«
»I think we should talk« you blurted out, averting your gaze from your husband in front of you, instead staring down at your fidgeting fingers in your lap.
You couldn’t see Atsumu gulping in front of you, his jaw clenching as his mind was racing back and forth. »Do you-« he took in a deep breath, blinking as he looked for the right words. »Uh-«
Silence settled over the two of you with both of your thoughts spinning, »Should I just-«
»Just sit down, please« you nodded, still staring in your lap.
The faux blonde was silent as he sat down, beside you, leaving a bit of space between your bodies.
And even those very few centimeters that seperated you, it felt like so much more.
»I- uh-«
»I’m sorry« Atsumu blurted out, his head thrown back and fists clenched »Shit, I’m so fucking sorry«
You couldn’t even look at him as he sighed, shaking his head at his own words. He really was sorry, he loved you, he loved you so much and yet he acted like he didn’t. Honestly, if he was you, he didn’t even know how he would react. He knew you must feel so much at once - sadness, anger, disappointment, betrayal - everything. And yet you still sat here, right next to him.
»I’ve been such a shitty husband to you« he continued, digging his fingernails in his own palms as he spoke and gritting his teeth »And I know I can’t take that back«
Letting out a dry chuckle he let his head hand forward, shoulders slumped. »I can’t undo all of this and I’m so, so fucking sorry«
More than anything, Atsumu was angry. Angry at himself. Angry for letting it come this far, angry for not realizing what was happening to his marriage, angry for thinking he could fix this easily. Because the truth was, he couldn’t.
He didn't even know if he was able to fix the damage he caused.
But that day he came home, knowing you were gone, knowing he messed up, he swore himself that he would try anything. Because he couldn’t imagine his life without you.
»I could barely eat or sleep when you were gone« he chuckles, shaking his head. »And I don’t want to blame you, because - fuck - that’s not your fault. I know I’m at fault for this«
Silence settled over the two of you, both of you caught up in your own thoughts.
»Why, Tsum?« you still shied away from him, simply staring down at your lap. »What happened to us?«
»Fuck I-« It was like his words got stuck in his throat, hitching his breath. He shook his head, hiding his face in his hands. »I don’t know«
»Don’t you want to come home anymore?« you breathed out, biting your inner cheek. »Don’t you miss me?«
And before Atsumu could answer you, before he could tell you just how much he missed you, you continued. »Did I do something wrong?« You couldn’t see your husband shaking your head, his eyes wide as his eyes sapped to you.
How could you even think that? It was him, he did everything wrong, he was the one that failed to be what he promised you to, he was the one who left you alone, he was the one who broke all his promises to you.
»I just want to be here for you«
»I love you so much, Tsum« you huffed, a sad smile on your face as you closed your eyes. Because you did. Besides everything, you still loved him more than anything - but what about him? »Don’t you love me anymore?«
As soon as those words left your mouth, you couldn't help but start crying.
You loved him, you loved him so much it hurt. But you just couldn’t stop.
Clenching his fists even harder, Atsumu drew his head in as he heard your sobs.
He was the one that did this to you. He made you cry, he hurt you, he betrayed you.
»Fuck, I do, I do, so, so much« he pleaded, finally taking a good look at you and forcing himsel to take in the tears rolling over your red cheeks and the way your shoulders shook with every breath you tried to take in. »Please, believe me, I do, I love you so much«
But did he really?
Your voice was quiet, almost broken as you spoke again. »Am I not good enough for you?«
Immediately you felt warmth engulfing your hands, pulling them closer to the young man next to you. »You are, baby, you are, you are more than good enough, please« His thumb dancing over the back of your hand. With your eyes still downcast you didn’t notice Atsumu looking at you, carefully observing your figure. »You’re my everything, baby«
»Then why aren’t you coming home anymore?« And just like that, the very question that has been on your mind all this time was out and honestly, you still didn’t know if you wanted to know the answer to it. »Why, Tsum?«
Atsumu’s silence made you retract your hands from his grip, placing them balled up into fists in your lap. You cleared your throat, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. »Answer me«
»I don’t- I don’t know« he finally spoke, shaking his head at his own answer. »Fuck, I don’t know«
You almost wanted to laugh, not even sure if that made it any better. Was it really so wrong of you to have your husband with you? To have him remember the important dates? To maybe, just maybe realize that he now was married - and that came with so much more than just love?
»You know, I know it was wrong of me to just run away« Sniffing, you rubbed your cheek with your sleeve, trying to compose yourself. »Really, I know. And I’m sorry for it«
In the corner of your eye you could see Atsumu preparing to say something, yet you decided to cut him off. »I know I should’ve talked to you« you continued, nodding your head at your own words. »And it’s not like I didn’t want to, but-«
You bit your lip, stopping for a moment. You knew you had to get this off your chest now, you knew that this was the one thing that you could control, the one thing you could do. »But I was never here«
Your husband let his head hang in shame. He knew you were right, he couldn’t blame you for any of this even if he wanted to. Truth to be told, he was the neglectful one, he was the forgetful one, he put everything else above you.
And there was nothing more he wished for than to be able to take that back.
»Don’t you want to make this work?« you finally asked, allowing yourself to take a look at Atsumu again. »I can’t do it alone, Tsum«
»I can’t«
Ripping your gaze away from him again, you rubbed your temples, taking a deep breath.
»I’m tired« you whispered, shaking your head »So, so tired«
»I know, baby« Atsumu whispered as he slowly reached for your hand, almost breathing out a sigh of relief as you allowed him to do so, pressing a soft kiss on it. »And I’m so, so sorry«
Choking down a sob himself, Atsumu continued to caress the back of your hand. »I never wanted to hurt you so much«
»I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you« he paused for a short second, clearing his throat »If you let me«
»I want to show you just how much I love you« he squeezed your hand, lips ghosting over it »I want to treat you the way you deserve«
»I want to show you that I can be more than just a shitty and neglectful husband«
Your heart almost stopped as you noticed Atsumu kneeling down in front of you, now taking both of your hands into his and pressing a soft kiss on them.
»I never meant to take you for granted like that« Seeing him in front of you like this, you couldn’t help but think back to the very day he proposed to you, proclaiming his undying love and almost begging you to marry him - and now here he was in the very same position, begging you to stay with him. »And there’s no explanation I can give you. There's nothing I can say to make this okay and I know that«
Brown eyes looking at you with nothing but pure love and admiration, he gently squeezed your hands, pressing another small kiss on it before interlacing your fingers with his slender ones and pulling them into his chest.
»Please let me try and be better for you«
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a/n: thank you for sticking with me through this. still debating about an epilogue. i have an idea, but m not sure. i like leaving it ambiguous tbh. please come into my inbox and tell me what you think - about vows, the ending, the characters, anything.
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serenecelene · 13 hours ago
hey hey hey! sooooo hi angst queen I was wondering if you could do some sort of angst thing for Atsumu? I love him sm anddd uhh I love you! maybe he says something mean or bc he is emotionally stunted brushed off readers feelings? ahh idk
Emotionally stunted I- lmaooo aw but thank you anon you are too cute!! I love you too hehe and thank you for your kind words!! Anyway here is some Atsumu angst for you lovely!
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Daffodils and Hyacinths
Atsumu x reader (again I do believe this is gender neutral but sometimes my brain is the big dumb and skips over things so if not just lmk)
Summary: One for something unrequited, another for regret of something lost.
Warning: fluff to angst, unrequited love, unedited lol, and swearing (would this be a Serene fic without it? The answer is no.)
Listening to: Fields of Gold by Eva Cassidy, A Burning Hill by Mitski
A/N: I split this story into two parts bc I felt like it fit better that way soooo you are lucky anon bc you get two stories in one request hehe. I also like pt. 2 more than pt. 1 lowkey
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You breathed in the world that grew the flowers you saw before you; looked upon the daffodils and carnations with a smile upon your face, for you did not know their meaning but they were pretty all the same. Oh and how you bathed in the fading sunlight and rough winds that belonged to an April turning May, to which you all danced together as they too ran with you through fields of yellow and gold; yellow daffodils and yellow carnations, a sign of rebirth and a sign of change.
Hmmm, you would have to write that one down.
“Yer can’t be serious about this bullshit can ya?” He called from behind you, and your heart skipped in time with the gentle song of the crickets that were hidden within the brush.
Your head cocks back over your shoulder to study him silently as he in turn studies words painted into a book. A surprising sight if you really thought about it, especially considering what the contents of those pages held. He sits on a blanket, surrounded by green and gold, and you think, never has he looked more lovely than when quiet and surrounded by budding blooms; you wished to paint that sight into your mind with oils and acrylics until every inch of your sight was coated in purely him.
“I don’t see what you mean, ‘Tsumu,” you sighed out into the tired skies, before you breathed in the sweet fragrance of mid spring.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and temperate,” he mocks, eyes full with amused disbelief as they dance across the page, “what the hell is tha’ supposed to mean anyway? Ya can’t tell me ya actually like this shit, right?”
You chuckle slightly at his words. Really, you wouldn’t expect him to understand the strength in the sentences intricately sewn together and you were not surprised by his open disfavour for the words. Some minds were never meant to indulge in the complexities of emotions and the different ways they could be told. Miya Atsumu was a straightforward man who really only held emotional capabilities equivalent to an over-excited, somewhat constipated, five-year-old.
No, you really weren’t surprised by his mockery of something timeless like Shakespeare, though you did enjoy how the ridicule was cleansed from his face as you retort, “if your brain isn’t big enough to comprehend the beauty in poetry, you can just say that, ‘Tsumu.”
The book closes as he places it down by his side. Brown eyes frown up at you as he grumbles, “oi, shut yer mouth, I just have better things to think about then some old dead fuck’s words.”
Oh like tossing a ball about? The thought leads you to exhale once again in a failed attempt of subdued amusement and you pay no mind to the blabber of endless complaints that flow from his mouth. Instead, you prefer to watch as he wraps his arms around his knees to bring them closer to his chest while the wind gently plays with the ends of his golden hair.
He looked pretty, far too pretty for his own good. The sight of him alone tricked your body into betrayal as silly daydreams began to fill your mind. It was in these very visions that left you to conjure up the picture of what he would look like if you were to kiss him right now. Would his cheeks flush red? Would his eyes grow large and would his jaw drop with bashful stutters? Or would he push you away with striking venom and words made up of bloodied glass shards?
You suppose the uncertainty of his reaction kept your quiet indulgences that spanned through years of subdued feelings from being voiced. The simple cliche of not wanting to jeopardise years of friendship for a moment of selfish desire… Because what would you do if he didn’t return your love? Now that was a thought you refused to entertain.
Rather, you move towards him with a slow pace, cheeks warm and eyes that never strayed from his lips, before you place yourself next to him on the green blanket below. Your skin was just a mere breath away from the relief of connection with his own, yet it didn’t stop how your hair stood on end at the mere thought of the electricity contained within his gentle graze.
He was never good with words, you mused. You can only remember the many times you had seen others cry at his bluntness, or how many had angered and pushed him away. Most hated him for his lack of filter and you frown in remembrance of how he had spent so long alone, silent in his need for a connection to be felt with someone other than his own brother. Everyone hated it, everyone except you. You, somehow, had found the trait quite endearing, how his mouth seemed to just go without the permission of his brain. You liked his bluntness, you liked it because it was the raw thoughts of his mind, no matter how small said mind seemed. Maybe it was because you had always liked words, especially when they were in their rawest form. They meant more then.
And you suppose that is how you proceeded from that moment forth to stubbornly stick to each other's sides in the form of a friendship that most envied; your love for words and his desire to always have someone to listen to him, no matter what.
“They can teach us a lot, ‘Tsumu,” you pondered for a bit as you felt his stare fix on the side of your face. It caused goosebumps to litter your skin and enticed small shivers to kiss up your spine. You could picture his eyes now, how they burned with curiosity and interest; yes, you loved those beautiful, honey eyes.
The thought paints your face in a soft smile whilst you teasingly poke his side, “for example, they can teach us how to really think about our words before we say them, you know, something you should do.”
His shoulder knocks into your own slightly as he scoffs. “Oh ya? Well, if yer so good at knowing words and shit, why don’t you make a poem right now, huh? Go ahead, show me whatcha got, ya fuckin’ Shakeypear.” He pouts, as per usual, like a distressed toddler who was refused a cookie or was scolded for being too loud. Yet, you find yourself unable to stifle the giggle at his face and awful mispronunciation of a famous poet's name. It was all so cute, he was so cute. Miya Atsumu would also be the death of you, that you were certain.
“Hmm, ok, I will,” you confidently speak as the wind starts to subtly pick up and both of your eyes meet.
His eyes, made with the purest gold, light up then and he seems almost excited at what you had to say, his head leaning slightly closer in preparation for your poem. Though you suppose he had always seemed to like it when you read to him, no matter how profusely he tried to deny your claims. So, you almost feel bad when you smile with closed eyes as you clear your throat and dramatically recount, “Hair of piss yellow and eyes of shit brown, up on that fat head sits a fake crown, and from the crown grows a fat ego too, what is his name? It’s Miya Atsumu.”
The cackle you release is almost instantaneous as your sentence ends, especially when he sputters and an angry whine escapes his pouty lips. He looked utterly offended, his skin wrinkled and his pupils blown up wide. The expression only worsened when through your cackles you wheeze, “c’mon ‘Tsumu it was good, don’t even fucking lie.”
Oh yes, you are nothing but content at this moment. You are happy because it was moments like this that you truly did feel like it was only the two of you in this world; it was only the two of you who were to be blessed with the last kisses of sunlight before the moon took over in his place. It felt romantic, it felt warm, and it felt like pure bliss, even as you ungracefully snorted and he whined like a small child.
“It wasn’t good, it was shit and I hated it.”
“Oh hush you big baby, if it was about Rin or ‘Samu, you would have loved it.” You coo as you pinched his chubby cheeks, only for him to struggle and attempt to push you away with a groan.
“I would not have. Am a nice person, unlike ya.” His voice is quiet and slurred as he turns his head to face away from you.
So childish, you think as you watch him fold his arms over his firm chest with a small huff. So very childish Atsumu was indeed. Though of course you shove him back, like the mature adult you are, with a loud scoff as you tease, “oh, you so would, you piss baby.”
He mutters under his breath then, something you didn’t catch; but if you had to guess it would’ve been along the lines of, “yer gonna get it ya fuckin’ pest,” by the way he tackles you to the floor.
It takes you back to when you were both kids, so much younger but still so unbelievably rowdy. Naturally, you would always have mini disagreements between the two of you. That was seemingly unavoidable with ‘Tsumu, but his mother always said it was because you both were like stubborn mule’s; complete carbon copies of each other and only different where it mattered. In fact, Mrs. Miya had told you once, as she comforted you after a particularly nasty fight between you both, that you and ‘Tsumu were like soulmates and it was best not to hang on too much to his lies. She had soothed you with gentle words that stated that he cared for you beyond most he had ever cared for before and he would apologize to you when the regret starts to settle in. It was even funnier for you to look back on that memory for the fact that she was right; it only took half an hour and he was knocking at your front door with a cookie in hand as he uttered a wobbly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, can we still be friends please?”
Oh, to think how after that one fight it had become agreed between the two of you that these disagreements could only be settled with wrestling matches full of yells, scratches, and hair pulls, instead of words. It was truly a testament to how similarly stupid you both were as children. However, it was a stupidity that had become sort of a tradition between the two of you, one that had dwindled down to a rarity the older you both got. After all, you were both 22 now and no longer the cheeky kids that could get away with fighting so disorderly in the dirt. Not that that would ever stop ‘Tsumu.
Though it probably sounded so stupid how highly you thought of such a simple thing. To most people, wrestling with a childhood friend was probably nothing more than a second thought, but to you… oh to you it was special. With how close he was and the gentle heat of his skin warming your own, yes it was almost sacred, especially if he was involved.
He paused then, as he lay over you, your head trapped between his two strong arms. Both of your chests heaved in the remnants of playfulness soon to be encompassed in something heavier. He looked beautiful as the setting sun formed a halo around his head and the sky turned from blue to gold.
Oh, and the flowers that bloom in your chest are most certainly the same colour as the warmth in his eyes and for a moment you were fooled as you let yourself believe in those few short moments that he was yours.
You wondered what would happen if you were to kiss him right now?
“What’s tha’ look for, stupid?” He mumbles from above, cheeks glowing like a rose and eyes coated in a bashful haze.
You remain silent for a little while, a stark contrast to the noise of your mind. Your mind, which is in a battle between finally ridding yourself of the burden in your chest or keeping yourself in a childish daydream for a little time more. Your eyes dart across his curious face as you study every detail and imperfection as if you hadn’t memorized them several times over; the faint scar on his cheek from teenage acne, the light spray of freckles littered across his tanned nose, and the subtle, permanent smirk that settled on his lips. Oh fuck, how were you supposed to stop yourself from a gentle slip of the tongue when he looked at you like that? No, your mind and heart are at war and as they battle, for the first time ever it is your heart that wins.
Shakily, you inhale and begin to speak, “I like you, Atsumu. I like you a lot and have done since we were 16.”
The bashfulness on his face is quickly replaced, and something in the back of your mind yells at you to take everything back. To play it all off as a small joke whilst you internally scold yourself for ever entertaining the thoughts of reciprocated love. Especially with how his voice is shaky and quiet when he utters a simple “what?” from above.
And you really should have listened to those alarm bells that sounded off in your ears, but you didn’t. You didn’t because you were stubborn, stubborn like a mule.
Instead, you press on with hands that tremble as you stare into those honey brown eyes, as if bewitched by the sweetness they once held. Your mouth, just like his, runs and runs, spitting everything out without a second thought. And you fail to pay attention to the deterioration of his mood, one that changes harshly and fast like the seasons of autumn through to winter.
No, you just continue to talk without a second thought.
“You heard me. I like how you pout when someone teases you, I like that twinkle in your eyes when you succeed, I like your toothy smile when someone compliments your serves, I like how you can always make me laugh without even trying. Fuck, I even somehow like when you fucking burp after you stuff your face with food. I like you ‘Tsumu.”
Though, it was funny how that was all it took for it all to come burning down around you, for everything to be set alight as you lay on a burning hill with a shattered heart and broken promises.
He pushed himself off the ground then, stood with tense shoulders and a snarled lip, “Well stop. If you like me in any way, more than a friend should, I need you to stop because we will never be more than friends.”
And it was fucking hilarious how all it took was a mere few sentences for your world to still, burning up along with the hill you lay on. The power of words, something you had always loved until it was too late, until now.
Oh and his eyes too; eyes that you always adored, no matter the day or time, until they were filled with such ugly emotions, until they glared upon you now.
Because what swam in those eyes was a look that you had seen many times, you just never thought it would be directed at you. It was a glare thrust upon girls who had squealed and cried their supposed love only for them to burn up under the intensity of his anger. You had witnessed it in the aftermath of a game gone wrong and watched it lash out on criticising reporters and over-bearing fans alike. It was something that screamed anger, annoyance, and disgust, you just never thought it would be forced upon you.
You stutter under the heat of it, like all those girls, all those reporters, and all those fans. You stutter in panic, trying to explain yourself but he does nothing but burn you more. “‘Tsumu, you know it isn’t that easy, I just- I needed to get it off my chest and I-”
He towers over you, with a hand that ripped through his hair, and spits, “if you can’t get over yer feelings for me then you aren’t my fucking friend. How long have ya liked me, huh? How long have you been using my friendship for yer own selfish gain?”
This wasn’t the Atsumu you knew. How could it be when he spits such condescending words of malice and hurt? No, this couldn’t be ‘Tsumu, just an ugly clone that was filled with rage and hate that reminded you of a boy you once knew, one you believed grew up.
Fuck, you wished you could believe that still, you wished it was true.
Yet, here that same boy stood before you, and it burns and burns with each sound that forces its way from his mouth. The fire eats and eats until all that is left in its path is you, until you feel yourself start to burn with it. You had accepted probable scorn of rejection but never the hellfire of words that mercilessly singed your skin. Yes, you burn, you burn along with everything around you.
Your throat throbs now, with sadness, anger or betrayal you aren’t quite sure, maybe all three; With the sadness that makes its way down your face, the anger that grips at your chest, and the betrayal that clogs your throat. “Using your friendship? For my own selfish gain? Please Atsumu, listen to yourself and get your fat fucking head out of your ass. Do you think I wanted to like you of all people? Someone who is rude, condescending, mean, arrogant, and never ever fucking thinks? What could I possibly gain from liking you?”
And perhaps it was selfish and perhaps it was mean but you just wanted him to hurt. You wanted him to hurt just like he hurt you.
“Then why the fuck did you like me in the first place if I’m so bad? Especially when there was no way in hell I was ever going to like you back.” His voice is loud now, and raw with the sheer ferocity of his words.
It was all going to shit and so fast. Your brain and heart struggled to catch up amongst the chaos and your senses overwhelmed you until every breath became a struggle. Yet, through it all, betrayal came too as your eyes showed you the tragic sight of the red thread that tethered you both start to burn. You were sure you were the only one that could see it; you could see how everything that connected you was soon nearly lost at your feet and you couldn’t help but panic as you felt yourselves drift further and further away.
It was almost demeaning how you became desperate to salvage whatever you could from his rage before he left it all as ash in his wake. A moment of desperation that perhaps came a moment too late. Your shoulders shake as you yell, “because despite all that bullshit, you can be kind, you can be vulnerable, you can be caring, you can be funny, and you can be sweet. I have known you all my life Miya Atsumu and you, despite all your flaws, are the best man I have ever met and for that reason I fell in love with you.”
But it wasn’t enough, if anything it only makes it worse.
His breath seizes, eyes full of betrayal and bitterness. He looks at you as if he loathes you and you feel it in your chest as the flowers die when he says, “Well, all those years spent grovelling for my attention like a whore were for nothing. I thought you were better than everyone else, I thought you would be the one person who wouldn’t expect anything more from me, shows how fucking wrong I was.”
“Atsumu, I didn’t expect-”
His hand is quick to wipe saliva from lips as he cuts you off with a harsh breath, “I hope ya know that yer a shit friend and if you can’t get rid of your feelings I don’t want anything to do with you until ya do.”
In all your years of knowing Atsumu, you had known that he held the power to be heartless, but never quite like this. Never had he been so childish or selfish. Never did he ever act so maliciously nor carelessly. Not with you... And never have you hated him more.
Disbelief. It was all you could register besides fury as your heart cramps and your tears still as the heat in his tone chases them away. “Are you serious, Atsumu?”
“Yes.” He glares, glares at you as if you were nothing more but the soil beneath his shoe. The audacity of it all, the audacity of him to throw away years of friendship just because your heart had started to hold a tender warmth and certain love towards him that branched into new and uncharted territory.
You realize now that you had meant every single one of your previous words. No, of course you didn’t mean to fall for him because if love was ever a thing to be controlled, Miya Atsumu would be the last person you would ever choose to share such a bond with. You can see that now.
And you don’t know what else to do but laugh, no, cackle out an icy, “oh, don’t worry Miya, I will get over my stupid fucking feelings for you, but I don’t want anything to do with you after that. You are a selfish, mean, egotistical child and I cannot believe it took me so long to figure out how much of a fucking asshole you are.” And despite the chill in the words spat into the harsh wind, your chest burns with the inferno he lit, a forest fire that incinerated all that it touched with a thick smoke that deprived your lungs of air.
His mother always said you were carbon copies of each other, only different where it mattered. She had always claimed you were soulmates destined to be, as if made from two halves of a whole, created from pure stardust forced together by the cosmic pull. You know now that she, and ultimately you, were wrong. You were always too different, and only the same where it never mattered. You were never soulmates, just lessons in a few chapters of a long book that would never end with each other.
“Now stay the fuck away from me and go live your lonely, miserable life. And I really hope you get your head out of your ass sooner rather than later, Miya because soon loneliness and misery will be all you ever fucking know.”
You leave then, barge past in tears in order to escape the ashes of memories left behind. You couldn’t stand to be near him any longer, you no longer wanted to be a witness to the inferno that encompassed you both in fields of mockery and rusted gold.
You leave and he says nothing as you flee, nothing apart from a malicious, “good, and go fuck yourself whilst yer at it” which is thrown your way out of spite. It is then, with those words, in which you realize that you never meant as much to Atsumu as he did to you. So, you leave him and all that could have been, and all the what ifs as violent sobs rip themselves from your chest. You leave him and the fields of gold that were now bathed in tainted memories, a field that burns to cinders in your mind along with all your ties to him.
The betrayal of a first love and a best friend, you had read such tragedies before but never did you know it could hurt like this; The way it tears you open and leaves you broken and raw. Words could never fully capture the grief that solemn poets and melancholy authors could experience. Words were a mere cushion in comparison to such a fatal blow.
And, if only you knew the meaning of those flowers in the field that you once stood in, because if you had known what they symbolized, you were sure you would have called them ugly instead.
And if only you knew what those cruel flowers of yellow and gold meant, maybe this could have all been prevented and he would still be by your side with a toothy smile and stupid jokes that only made you laugh because they were his.
Yellow daffodils and yellow carnations, a sign of a love unrequited and a love rejected too.
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iwaizumri · a day ago
words we can't say.
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tw. profanities
genre. angst, some fluff, mutual pining, implied unrequited love (but not really)
main characters. f!reader, iwaizumi hajime,
featuring. oikawa tooru, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei
wc. 6.3k
a/n. in all honesty, i initially planned for the mc to die from a sickness but i realised my previous iwa fic also had a dead mc so uhm, yeah had to change it up. i'm sorry if it's a really weird plot because the whole plan changed. if towards the end, anyone is confused, please ask me so i'll explain it😭 edit: tbh after reading this i lowkey didnt know what i was writing so im v embarrassed but i’ll just leave it cause yeah:)
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Hajime will never regret having gone to California a few years ago.
It was an extremely incredible decision, to travel across the world to meet Takashi Utsui, the man that had willingly took him under his wing as an intern after he had graduated college. He had learnt so much and had even become an athletic trainer for the Men's Volleyball Team.
But why was he standing at the entrance of the party door, still, frozen in his spot when he looks at you? Why does his heart ache and why on earth is he thinking, if I hadn't left, would that be me with my arms around her?
When you turn to him, meet eyes with him, your eyes glisten like it used to and you hop in excitement towards him. You trap him in a bone-crashing hug, pull away and squeal, "Hajime!" His name sounds as sweet and gentle from your lips, just like it used to. It feels wrong for his heart to flutter. You beam and laugh, "It's been so long!"
Hajime smiles at you weakly, "It has. How have you been?" He cringes at how pathetic he sounds. He hates how his heart pounds against his chest when you stare up at him with the entire universe in your eyes.
"I've been good! You? How was Irvine? Did you meet Takashi Utsui? I heard you met Shiratorizawa's Ushijima!"
Your curiosity has never changed. The way you bombard him with questions endlessly. The way you ask and ask until he'll have to process all the questions internally before he can respond to you. Hajime feels the heat radiating from your body leave his when you pull away him. He shrugs his shoulders, "It was fun. Memorable. And yeah I did meet him. Learnt a lot. Meeting Ushijima was an coincidence actually. Apparently, his father is Coach Utsui."
"What?" Normally he would think that people who gasp so exaggeratedly sound phoney but perhaps in this case it's you, so he genuinely thinks you sound adorable.
"Yep," He enunciates the 'p', "Crazy right?" Before you can reply, the all-too-familiar voice pops up from behind.
"Iwa-chan, you're here!" Oikawa slides in beside you, wraps his arm around your waist and places a soft peck on your temple. Hajime ignores the clench in his heart and forces a grin, "Yeah. Seen Mattsun around? Gotta pass him his gift." He gives an excuse. He doesn't intend on passing Matsukawa his gift now, he just wants to get out. He feels trapped, suffocated in a place like this, in a place where you stand with another man—who is one of his closest friends, best friend even—with his arms around you.
"Oh Issei? He's at the kitchen, talking to Hiro, I think." You reply instead. He thanks you, before slipping through the crowds and away.
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"Y/N! Goodness, give me a second!" Hajime groans when you rush to push him to the volleyball gymroom. He's barely done stuffing his books in his back when you snap open the large wooden doors and grab his bag to place it aside.
"Come on! Show me more spikes! I want to see it up close!" You sound so excited, like a little kid getting to eat ice cream on a day out. His heart tickles at your cuteness.
God, the things he'd for you and only you.
Sighing, Hajime hesitantly grabs a volleyball and bounces it. Your squeals echo, "Go on, go on!" Your eyes shimmer brightly and he can't help the tiny smile that pulls at his lips. "Just one spike, alright? Then we'll leave. We have a test tomorrow, remember?" He knows he's nagging and he also knows that if he doesn't nag, the both of you will stuck here 'till the sun sets because you'll probably force him to continue showing you how he plays so up close.
You pout, but nod and he ruffles your hair before stepping in the court. Hajime bounces the ball once more then throws it to you, "Alright, throw me the ball. Not too high or low okay?" You send him an excited raise of your brows before nodding vigorously like a kid and catch the ball.
When Hajime spikes the ball perfectly, you let out a surprised gasp. He's satisfied with your reaction.
He might not look it, but he genuinely wants to impress you, not that he'd tell you that.
"Okay, let's go." He tosses the ball into the basket and slings on his bag, "Crappykawa will be here soon. Unless you want him to cling onto you, I suggest leaving now." The thought of it has you shuddering visibly and Hajime can't help chuckling when you rush to the door in such a hurried manner. "Let's leave. Now. He's been clinging onto me the entire day! Can't tolerate it anymore. It's like I'm dating him or something." You say it so casually, Hajime can't help frowning at the thought.
"Do you want to?" He blurts out unknowingly on the way home.
"What?" You look at him with wide eyes. Hajime flushes. He coughs into his fist and awkwardly glances away, "I mean, he is Oikawa..." He trails quietly, waiting for you to answer. Thankfully, you do, but not the way he hopes you would. You burst into fits of laughter, "Well," You say, inching closer to him to tease him, "Do you want me to?" Hajime gulps at the sudden closeness. God, his heart might burst.
"T-That's," He clears his throat, pulls away from you, "That's not for me to decide, is it?"
Giggling childishly, you sigh and look up at the sky dreamily, "No worries. Oikawa's planning to go to Argentina isn't he? That's in South America. It's across the world." You pipe without looking at him. Hajime nods. "Then you have my answer." He turns to you expectantly, "Answer?" You grin and nod.
"Long distance relationships aren't my thing, so Tooru and I are impossible."
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Could he worry now? Or was there no point now?
"When did they get together?" Hajime asks Matsukawa standing beside him. The curly haired male hums, sipping his water, "A year or two ago. When Oikawa was in Brazil, he met her again when she was on summer break." He explains briefly.
Hajime smiles painfully as he watches you laugh with his best friend, "I see. They look happy. They suit each other." It's not a lie, but having to say it out loud makes him want to believe it's a lie. Matsukawa looks over at him, "I don't know how it happened too. But I guess we should've expected it when Y/N told us she got the Harvard scholarship she applied for. They even departed on the same day together." He then looks away, while patting the athletic trainer on his back, "Oikawa—he... has always liked her. Even when Hana had broken up with him, he never really seemed—" Matsukawa pauses, swallows, then continues, "—sad or whatever for a long period of time. Sure, he did cry a little here and there but it didn't take long when he just moved on with life."
Hajime feels uncomfortable, his stomach is churning, his mouth is dry and he just can't think straight. He thinks he might cry, but he's 27. Crying over something like this, he feels genuinely embarrassed, even though he knows it's okay to cry. He croaks hesitantly, "I know. It's not like Y/N and I dated or something, so I don't really care. She's free to date whoever she wants." Lies. "And plus, I've always thought she'd end up with Oikawa. He is the Oikawa Tooru after all." Lies. "I'm happy for them." Lies. Lies. Lies. All lies.
Hajime is not stupid and neither is Mattsun.
But they don't talk about it and instead bask in each other's presence, talking about the different things in the different lives they share right now.
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"She broke up with me!" Oikawa whines, clinging onto your arm like a child. You groan, pushing his head away, "Yes Oikawa, we know. Why don't you try and talk to her?" To try and shove off the brunette from your shoulder was a hassle, Hajime could tell, so he reaches for the back of Oikawa's shirt and pulls him away.
You send him a look of gratefulness. He smiles softly.
"He tried," Hanamaki says, sighing when Oikawa slumps down in his seat with a pout, "She refused. Said that it felt more like he was in love with volleyball than he was with her." At that, you can't help snorting. Hajime gently hits your arm, urging you to wipe away that silly smile on your face—even though he loved it. You clear your throat, patting Oikawa on his back.
As much as you hated affection, you let him lean onto you, let him wrap his arms around you and cry a little. You pat his head, rubbing it softly as you sit awkwardly in your seat.
Hajime would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous, but he knew for a fact that his best friend needed comfort, and physical comfort would have been too awkward for he and the other two, so the only person who would actually be okay with it would be you, even if you disliked it when Oikawa would cling onto you.
The latter sniffles silent on your shoulder. You lean your head onto his head and say, "Tooru, I know you're sad, heartbroken. But think about it this way, you two end it now, you focus on making it to nationals and you manage to win, you can try and get her back again. Even if you don't win, which I highly doubt so, you can graduate and move on with life. And if the two of you are really meant to be, you'll meet again."
Oikawa looks up at you through his damp lashes, "You think so?" He croaks.
Hajime watches you smile sweetly, ruffling his best friend's hair as you reply with a nod, "I know so."
And with that, Oikawa moved on.
Not overnight of course, a few weeks perhaps, but he still did, and Hajime couldn't help but admire you more than he already did.
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Hajime looks over at Makki, putting down his paper cup on the counter, "I'm gonna take a breather. Feels stuffy in here." He says, feeling the discomfort of being trapped between a bunch of people dancing and foolish around. The strawberry blond male nods, urging him to go on ahead.
He leaves to the front porch of Mattsun's apartment and catches sight of someone already sitting there on the steps.
It's you.
As much as he felt hesitant to approach you, another part of him knew it would be immature of him to just avoid you. After all, it's not like the both of you were on bad terms or anything of that sort. So he sits himself beside you quietly, not meeting your eyes when he feels you turn to look at him.
"Hey." You smile that smile. He returns a tiny one, "Hi."
"Why you out here?" You ask him curiously, hugging your knees as you rest your chin atop it. He gazes at the star-filled sky, the glistening moon and shrugs, "Needed a breather. You?" He sighs, noticing the smoke that escapes as he does so.
It's cold.
You shrug back, "Same, I guess." He nods, doesn't say anything back as the both of you sit there on the steps in silence.
His shoulders brush yours and he wonders when on Earth did you get so close. Or was it him that scooted nearer to you? He doesn't know, but he does know that you're shivering. Of course you were, in that white crop top and those ripped blue jeans, how could you not be shivering? He wonders how you even lasted the night and why you hadn't asked Oikawa for his jacket. Then again, it was you he was talking about, you'd never ask for anything that may trouble people.
Hajime slips off his jacket, feeling the cold air brush his skin the moment he does so. Quietly, he slips it over your trembling form and looks away straight after. He can't look at you, or else he might feel some unwanted feelings.
Once again, you turn to look at him with a surprised expression, "Why'd you give me this? You're going to get cold, Hajime." His name rolls off your tongue nicely—like it always did—he wants to hear it again. He shakes his head, eyes wandering over the streets. "You're barely covered. You might just freeze to death. Why didn't you ask for Shittykawa's?" He knows the answer, but asks anyway.
You scoot nearer to him this time, "He offered but I refused. Felt bad." He knows you feel bad for him too but he's persistent to have you wear it instead of him. "Hajime, just take it back," You begin to take his jacket off but he turns to you (finally) and holds your wrist gently, looking at you softly, "No. Just keep it on. I'm fine."
The streets are quiet, the only form of noise surrounding the both of you is the music blasting from the party in the apartment. But it's as if there was nothing, no one but the both of you in that moment.
Hajime feels his heart palpitations jump and increase and regrets having looked at you, 'cause God you look absolutely, insanely, gorgeous. Stunning. Beautiful. You're glowing under the moonlight, and your eyes are shimmering with the entire universe in it.
Fuck, he thinks, I want to kiss her.
Is he leaning in? Or is it you? He doesn't know, doesn't have enough time to find out because someone calls you and you're immediately slipping out of his jacket and handing it back to him quickly with an awkward smile. A smile he has seen before back in high school. A smile which you have never once sent him before.
"Thank you, Hajime. But you should keep it, I'm going back inside now anyway." You utter, sounding seemingly apologetic and he wants to ask why.
But he doesn't, he can't.
Hajime watches you run back to the door where Oikawa stands—fuck.
Did Oikawa see what was going on?
He watches the brunette slide his arm around your shoulder and kiss your lips—those lips that he was intending to kiss earlier and he feels the guilt sink in. Heck, what was he thinking? Trying to kiss a taken girl? His best friend's girl?
God, Hajime, you're an idiot.
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It's not like he hated the idea of it, but to see Oikawa get clingier and clingier around you, Hajime genuinely felt annoyed (and perhaps jealous too).
Sure, it's a fact that he was always clingy and affectionate with you, seeing how you were the only girl in his life that tolerated his shit, it was normal. But, the days where it was just you and him, where it was just one of those ordinary days of your solo hangouts—be it at the gym, at the café few minutes down the street or just at his place—Oikawa was always, and he means always, there.
When Hajime is dragged by you, like always, to the gymroom so he could teach you some easy shots, Oikawa is there, running after you from behind and then getting in the middle to link his arm with Hajime's and yours. When Hajime invites you to his place like those days on Fridays, Oikawa shows up and disrupts the comfortable quietness between you and him. When Hajime takes you out to try one of those new macaroon flavors that the café had just introduced, Oikawa knocks on the glass panel outside beside your seats and sits in between the both of you with a cheeky grin.
It's not like Hajime and you were dating, but it's not like you were just friends right? So can he say that it was normal to feel agitated that your 'dates' were getting interrupted almost all the damn time? Were your daily 'hangouts' even considered 'dates'? Or was it just him that felt that way?
There's no way it was just him. There's just no way.
The subtle flirting and compliments, the secret glances casted at each other's direction, the light blushes that form across both your cheeks when being teased about being the 'cutest couple' when you both weren't even dating.
On a Saturday night where you and Hajime meet to have a movie marathon, it is silent and peaceful. A blanket rests in both your laps and your shoulders brush against each other's, but none of you bother to make a move to scoot away.
You're both nearing the end of All The Bright Places, where Violet Markey goes on a search for Theodore Finch after he supposedly goes missing. Even if he pretends he can't hear it, Hajime knows you are already crying. Your sniffles don't go unheard. He reaches to grab a tissue on the table but then the bell goes off and he sighs. You stop sniffing, wiping at your tears as you croak, "Who's that?" Your eyes are all red and puffy and the male can't help the smile itching to creep up his lips.
He clears his throat, "I'll get it." You nod, pausing the movie.
Hajime lists the people who could possibly be ringing his door at 11pm on a Saturday; the neighbor living beside him who is a kind old woman with streaks of different toned grey hair that often looks fried; the neighbor living opposite him who is a fine man perhaps around the age of 30 who always seems to be coming home with many different girls at 3am in the morning; or the pizza delivery guy.
But the elderly woman is most likely asleep at this time of the day. The 30 year-old man is probably out partying like he always does on weekends and he knows for sure that you and him did not order pizza, considering how fulfilling the sushi was from dinner. This leaves one person in mind, but Hajime wants to think he's wrong, that it's impossible. And yet—
"Shittykawa." Hajime sighs irritatedly. Oikawa grins childishly, "Iwa-chan! Is Y/N-chan here? I went to her place but she didn't answer." He says. The shorter male steps aside, opening the door wider for the brunette to enter.
He does so, gleaming at the sight of you, in a way that causes Hajime's eyes to twitch—because when has Oikawa ever been that clingy towards you? He doesn't know and he doesn't want to. He fears he might hear a reason that might fuel his jealousy.
God, yes, Hajime was jealous as fuck.
With the way his best friend is pulling tissue after tissue to wipe the tears prickling your eyes, beaming like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world, patting and rubbing at your hair; soothing you. How could he not feel jealous? But it's not like he could do much, he never really projected his feelings for you to anyone.
A few cans of coke and bowls of popcorn later, Hajime turns to ask you if you'd like to sleep over but then pauses upon catching sight of your deep asleep. He can't help smiling when he sees your head tilting side to side, back and forth like a child on a bumpy car ride. He stands up to get a blanket for you and Oikawa who just so happened to be asleep as well but the way you are now leaning on the latter's shoulder and the way he is leaning atop your head cause Hajime's heart to clench.
Why did the both of you look so good together?
Hajime drapes the blanket over you two, perhaps more towards your side, and leaves to his room, ignoring the ache in his heart.
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"Iwa-chan! Come, we're taking pictures!" Oikawa calls, waving for his best friend to come over. Hajime glances at the brunette then at you who is cuddled underneath his arm beside him and smiles, forcefully. He takes his spot beside Makki, the opposite end of your side and he puts on the best, most genuine smile he can muster for the picture.
The photo-taking session lasts for at least ten minutes and Hajime takes a few solo pictures with Mattsun before standing a corner while sipping his coke. You join him soon after, holding a bottle of water in your hand. He glances at you, clears his throat and leans against the wall.
"How was Harvard, by the way? Never got to ask you even after you graduated."
"Huh?" You seem dazed when you respond, immediately grinning widely however, "Oh, Harvard... It was good. Fun. Learned many new things there." Hajime merely nods, "Then, how did you and Oikawa meet? I mean he was in Argentina so it was quite a distance, wasn't it?" He hopes, prays, he doesn't sound off because he's a hundred percent sure if Mattsun or Makki were around, they'd sense the tiny, burning flame of jealousy in his tone.
You don't catch on, thankfully. "Oh I..." You trail off silently, thinking. "I visited him on summer break and we just, caught up from there."
"I see."
Hajime wants to ask why you had cut off all sorts of contact with him in both your third years of college, why you hadn't once went back to Japan to visit on summer or winter break just like he had, why you had decided to become a permanent resident in America just like Oikawa had done in Argentina and why, just why did you not tell him anything, just anything at all?
He doesn't. Of course he doesn't. I mean what was the use? It was too late. You had fallen for Oikawa, just like he had predicted eight years ago when the both of you left on the same day at the airport.
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"Well? What did they say?" Hajime beams at you expectantly, waiting as patiently as he could. He watches your eyes read over the letter then widen as you slowly look up to meet his eyes. Your mouth agape as you breathlessly utter out, "I got in... I-I got in." He grabs the letter from you, skims through it and pulls you into a bone-crashing hug.
"Oh my God Y/N, oh my God! I am so proud of you." He sighs into the crook of your neck, smiling big and wide as if he were the one receiving the acceptance letter into Harvard. You wrap your arms around him tightly, eyes welling up with happiness. Your tears damps his blouse but he doesn't seem to mind as the both of you hug for a good five minutes.
It doesn't sink in however, until the walk home together that you'd be leaving to America in less than three months. Hajime realises it a lot later than you do, still caught up in the news that you had gotten into Harvard. Maybe he did already realise it, he just didn't want to talk about it. But when you bring it up, he realises he has not much of a choice.
"Hey, let's not think about your departure okay? That's not the main point of all this." He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. The way you look up at him tells him you're not convinced. You struggle to speak, "But, what happens to us?"
Us. He thinks. Us. Was there ever an 'us'? He's sure there wasn't but, there certainly was something that could've led to this 'us'. He wonders why nothing ever escalated. You mentioning it definitely means you felt the same way...right? Was he thinking too much about this?
"We'll work it out." Is all he replies to you. What else can he say? He isn't even sure what 'it' refers to but he still says it. Perhaps you aren't sure of anything either, because you just stare at him quietly before nodding.
After awhile, you speak again, "I...Oikawa confessed to me today." Hajime stiffens. "Well, not directly. But he sort of hinted at it? I'm not really sure but he told me to think about it first." You're waiting for him to reply but he doesn't know what to say. If there was an 'us' between you and him, was he supposed to feel protective? Jealous? What? He couldn't get angry, that's a fact. Because he has never once told Oikawa about his feelings for you, so technically, the brunette wasn't 'stealing' you away.
The truth is, he has always known, hasn't he? That Oikawa had already set his eyes on you the moment he had met you, regardless of who he has liked and dated in his years of high school. It was you who always made him smile like no other. It was you who always made him laugh like a young boy in love. It was you who calmed him down with just your presence whenever he worried about being second to Kageyama Tobio. It was you who he called whenever he was hungry at three in the morning. It was you who he texted whenever he couldn't fall asleep. It was you who he asked to be his 'pretend' girlfriend to shoo away his fangirls. It was you. It was always, always you.
At the lack of Hajime's reply, you look back at the ground in quiet disappointment and chuckle sadly, "Well, guess I'll just think about it for now, like he said to. Though, it might just be pointless, considering how we would all be going separate way."
However, as Hajime sends you off, watching you wave bye to him before entering your apartment, he wonders if you were all really going separate ways.
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Matsukawa's birthday party ends the moment the clock strikes 12am. People rush to exit, not forgetting to wish the said male one more 'happy birthday' despite the day being over. The last few to leave are you and the four other boys.
"Thanks for coming. It was nice to meet up and talk again." Mattsun grins giddily, cheeks tinted pink from drinking. You laugh at the way he stumbles towards you to embrace you, "I can't believe you're returning back to America on Monday. Wish you would stay longer." He tightens his hold around you. You pat his back, "I'm not alone. Tooru's going back too." He pulls back to ask jokingly, a pretentious confused expression plastered on his face, "Who?"
Oikawa whines like he always did in high school, "So mean! What have I ever done to deserve this?" He sighs exaggeratedly. Hajime rolls his eyes, Makki laughs.
"We'll be back to visit again." You say softly, eyes glimmering.
Perhaps it was because it was late, so no one was sober enough to notice, but Hajime swears he sees a flash of sadness in your eyes as you say those words. He brushes it off when you erupt into laughter at Mattsun teasing Oikawa. Perhaps you just didn't want to leave. After all, no one did.
"We'll be there to see you two off again." Makki chimes, "Just like two years ago. When the both of you left together as well."
Hajime nods, "Yeah. Just text us the time." Oikawa flashes his signature peace sign, tongue sticking out as he grins, "Don't miss us too much." You chuckle at his silliness, meeting eyes with Hajime who looks back at you.
It felt wrong. As if such a mere thing like looking at each other wasn't allowed. While the other three men conversed, the both of you just simply... looked at each other. He feels his surroundings blur, his only focus is you. Even when your hair looks a little messy after all the fun, when your cheeks are flushed pink from all the drinking and when your clothes are all crumpled, he thinks you are beautiful.
You stare back at him with just as much affection, and Hajime cannot take his eyes off of you—though, he should. But when you stand there, glowing under the moonlight, he feels his heart fill with warmth, just like how it always did in high school whenever you would wait for him after his practice ended and the sun would set and the moon would take over the sky. He would admire you whenever you were deep in thought or entirely absorbed in talking about something that you wouldn't even notice that he was staring and smiling at you.
But then the thought of Oikawa and his arms around you, Oikawa and his lips touching your temple, Oikawa and his feelings for you snaps him out of it, and he turns away, choosing to focus on something else, anything else.
The five of you take at least ten minutes to say goodbye, unable to bear the thought of leaving.
"I'm staying to help Mattsun clean up. He's too drunk to even pick up anything. You guys go on ahead. I'll see you on Friday at the airport." Makki utters with a sigh, glancing at the drunk Matsukawa who grins drunkenly at the three of you. Hajime nods understandingly and the door to Matsukawa's apartment shuts.
He turns to both you and Oikawa, smile twitching when he watches the brunette whisper in your ear. "Well, I guess I'll see the both of you around some time." He isn't really sure what to say but he is sure that he wants to get away from the heart-aching sight. Oikawa smiles cheekily, "We'll see you when we come back. But for now, I'm gonna go get a bottle of water from the convenient store there, so could you take care of her for me? I'll be back quick." Hajime wonders why you won't just follow him, but he doesn't ask as he nods hesitantly.
It is awfully awkward between you two but he isn't sure why. You were both perfectly fine earlier, why was it so... tense now?
Hajime fidgets around for awhile, pondering on things he could ask to break the ice. He — thankfully — manages to do so, "So," He begins, glancing at you, who looks back at him at the same time, "Why aren't you staying in Japan?" The moment he lets the question slip, he realises just how idiotic he sounds and internally slams his head into a wall. What other reasons could there be other than his only best friend, Oikawa Tooru?
You smile at him lightly, "Well, the life here is as great as it is there, but I'm used to everything there already. And plus, Tooru's a resident there so I figured staying there with him would be easier for the both of us." Hajime smiles tightly at that, gulping harshly as he nods, "R-Right."
It's silent again.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Oikawa making his way back and he wonders if he should tell you what he told you eight years ago — the very same words — because if he didn't say it now, when would he get the chance to? At both your weddings? God, that would be way more dick-ish than it would be now.
He tips back and forth on his feet, shuffling around in hesitation before turning to face you completely. You look at him curiously.
"Y/N," He breathes out the breath he didn't even know he was holding, "I have something to tell you." He smiles nervously, you smile back but it's hesitant, wary. You seem to know what he's going to tell you. He glances back and fourth between you and the man already walking towards the both of you and hurries to speak.
"I love you."
Just like eight years ago, it's silent.
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"I love you." Hajime says softly, voice strained as if pained. He looks behind you, where Oikawa watches, then looks back at you. You're quiet, unable to say anything and he regrets for a moment then he realises, there's no turning back. Might as well just pour his heart out, right?
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"I love you. I always have, and always will. Even back then when we sent you off at the airport and Oikawa was looking and Makki and Mattsun were watching, I don't regret having told you. I won't ever regret loving you. Even if it is not the both of us together at the end, you will always matter to me. I will always care for you. I will always love you, regardless what this 'love' is."
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"I think I always have. I didn't know it at first but, every time you came to my place and we'd watch a movie, I realised I was watching you more than I was watching a show. And every time in class, when you needed help, I would feel this—burn? I don't know but I just wished you would come to me for help instead of someone else. During lunch breaks, every time you fooled around with Makki, I would wish it was me you were fooling around with." Hajime reaches for your hand, looking into your teary eyes, "I didn't realise it at first, but you know at Makki's birthday party, there was this video of all of us preparing to take a picture and instead of looking at the camera, I was looking at you and everyone pointed it out—told me to stop 'simping' and all that weird stuff." He chuckles, you follow along.
"Then I went home and I watched the video and I realised my eyes never left you at all. I thought I was caring for you as a sister but if I did, then I would've been happy for you when you told me a guy confessed to you, but instead there was this raging—burning, feeling inside of me. Wherever you went, my eyes was always following you, looking for you. And if that wasn't me falling in love with you, then I don't know what is. But regardless of what you feel, I will always love you. Doesn't matter what sort of love. I just do."
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Just like eight years ago, you're so quiet. There are tears in your eyes again. Your smile is sad, pained as you nod, wiping away the water crystals falling down your cheeks, "Thank you."
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"Thank you, Hajime." You say, sniffing. Hajime wasn't disappointed by your answer, not at all. Perhaps he had expected it, and one would think that he was being led on by you this whole time, but he knew for a fact that he hadn't. He knew you loved him back, regardless of what this sort of 'love' was, you loved him back. And he was okay with that.
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Hajime grins, albeit sadly, "I’m glad you're happy."
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The announcement for your flight resonates loudly in the airport. Hajime turns to you, "Promise me you'll be happy, okay?" You sniff again, "I promise."
"Okay." He says, "You should go then." Nodding, you heave a sigh and smile up at him, "I'll see you around." Hajime nods, humming as he ruffles your hair, "See you."
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"Y/N." Oikawa calls from behind and you turn, giving him a nod before turning back to the man in front of you. "I'll see you around, Hajime." The latter merely smiles, "Yeah. See you."
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Hajime watches you go. He watches you nod at Oikawa as the both you walk. He watches you smile up at the brunette. He watches you turn back to him to give a final wave. He watches you show your passport to the airport staff. He watches you enter the boarding venue. He watches you disappear from his sight and forever.
He watches you, like he always has.
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It's not a happy ending for Hajime. But he feels better now—better than what he felt when he first walked into the party. He's happy, seeing you with someone else, someone who makes you happy. That's all he really needs.
He doesn't feel the burning rage of jealousy, or that shallow depths of sadness watching you. In fact, he feels relief, comfort, that you have someone else watching over you, making sure you're safe and sound. He wonders why for a moment. Then he realises.
You loved him. You didn't have to say it, Hajime knew. Just like eight years ago, he knew you loved him as much as he loved you. It didn't matter how you loved him, but it brought a sense of warmth, knowing that you cared and looked out for him just like he did for you. That was all that really mattered.
Hajime understood that there were things that shouldn't be said. That certain things, should just be kept to oneself and be unknown and unsaid to others. Sometimes, if some things were said out loud, it would only cause pain and heartache.
You and Hajime understood it. Just like eight years ago, the both of you understood that even now.
Even if the both you are miles apart, the both of you understood each other. You both just cared for one another, and would always wish for the other to be happy and safe. That was what mattered and it always will matter.
When you leave, Hajime watches, just like he did eight years ago. But this time, he doesn't wait for you to disappear from his sight.
No, Hajime turns away, and leaves first.
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© all rights reserved. all content belongs to iwaizumri 2021.
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itsmiyamore · 2 days ago
— missing you.
He's still not over you. (He wonders if he ever will be.)
a/n: very proud of this one hehehe
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Sakusa Kiyoomi can't help but miss you across an ocean of people in the room.
He knows he's lightweight and probably shouldn't be accepting his fourth glass of champagne of the night, but you're here, so all his better instincts go out the window. You're easy to spot, despite the room being full, and Sakusa doesn't realize he's made his way to you until you're looking at him, eyes wide and lips parted.
Sakusa wants to kiss you.
He doesn't.
Instead, he smiles, a rare sight for even those close to him, and your eyes glimmer a bit as the corners turn upward as well. You take his hand, allowing him to pull you to the dance floor and he rests his hands. on your hips, trembling at the feeling of your body nestled against his, so foreign, yet familiar.
"Are you having fun?" you ask, startling Sakusa.
"I'm okay," he murmurs. It's better because you're here, he almost adds.
He bites his tongue.
"That's good," you sigh in relief. Sakusa thinks that the moment might have been perfect, because you're looking up at him again, like you're contemplating something at the tip of your tongue, and he has a thousand things to tell you but he stays quiet, waiting for you to speak.
You let out a small laugh instead, and he hates the cold that takes your place as you pull away. "I'm glad you came."
Sakusa is too, even as he watches your retreating figure, longing filling his chest until he almost calls out your name, but he's sober enough to remember the night is supposed to be about you, not him.
But Sakusa still can't help but miss you as his gaze never leaves your corner of the room, even as he accepts his fifth glass of champagne, even as you laugh when Atsumu swoops down to kiss you, and Sakusa wonders if you ever missed him too.
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ri-days · a day ago
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kuroo, nishinoya, aran, and tsukishima !
warnings: usage of 'babe'. unedited. a/n: adklajdljlkadsjlkajdlkfj
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saturday nights with kuroo consisted of stargazing. you two barely had any free time throughout the week, filled with work and other activities, so saturday nights were a way for you two to destress and relax.
you lied on the ground, staring up at the dark sky littered with stars, filling you with a sense of wonder. "pretty," kuroo whispered, pulling you closer to him. you hummed, "they are."
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saturday nights with nishinoya were spontaneous you two set off in the car, windows wide open, with music blasting in the car. you two g grinned as you both screamed to sang along to the song, looking out at the blur of the street.
you stopped at at pizzeria, picking up a large pizza, sand sat in the car, devouring t it to. you two started talking about your day, abt yout week, about anything you two couldn't talk about during your busy week. "no way!" you exclaimed, tearing a piece of the pizza. "i know, can you believe it, babe?"
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saturday nights with aran were cozy and comfortable. you two snuggled in front of the tv, blankets draped on top of you. a ghibli movie was playing, taking you back to your younger days.
you wrapped your arms around aran, resting your head against his chest. as the movie started, you couldn't contain our excitement, adding comments to the scenes. he added his own as you spoke, giving you a small peck each time.
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saturday nights with tsukishima were peaceful and comforting. you two walked around the streets, hand in hand. music played from your earphones, setting the tone for the night. you swung your arms, smiling as he did it too.
"idiot," he smiled.
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