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ilylovelyz · 1 year ago

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⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you

☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.

"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.

your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.

he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.

with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..

"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"

there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.

he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.

his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."

with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.

MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.

"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.

but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"

his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.

"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.

he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.

he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"

KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.

kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.

"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.

"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.

"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.

"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.

"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."

you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..

BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.

"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.

"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?

"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.

you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.

"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.

him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..

he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..

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fum1ku · 6 months ago

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TOXIC TRAITS - HQ BOYS

ft. kiyoomi sakusa, koushi sugawara, atsumu miya, daichi sawamura, tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima

tw: toxic relationship, arguments, cursing

pt. 2 where everyone kisses and makes out makes up, anyone?

KIYOOMI: silent treatment. perhaps kiyoomi’s fight or flight reaction stemmed from his inability to communicate well. but, that didn’t feel completely true. he could be blunt; honestly saying what was on his mind to anyone. but, when it came to you, he was just.. silent. you’d beg and plead, scream or shout, say anything and you wouldn’t hear a word back from him. it hurt. it tore deep into your chest; finding itself a resting spot in the pit of your stomach. would someone who truly loved you really do this to you?

KOUSHI: love bombing. sugawara really didn’t mean to. he didn’t know how much he’d ever smothered you until he heard someone actually say something about it. at first you thought it was just sweet, random acts of kindness from him. his love language shining through, at most. the expensive gifts, the rush of compliments he’d give you, the aching feeling of his arms wrapping around you for the 5th time in that moment. but, no—it was more than that. all of it was meaningless; hallow. not a second thought put into it besides his desperation to win you. to have you. he was so desperate to not let you slip away that he forgot what he had ever felt for you in the first place: love.

ATSUMU: toxic jealousy. atsumu miya had been popular with girls since high school. and of course it didn’t stop when he joined the msby jackals. if anything, he had been more popular with women now than he had been in his entire life. but, he always said it didn’t matter. he always told you “you’re all i need. no stupid fan girls can get in the way of that. i have you, and that’s all i want.” all he wants. but that all fades away after your first actual fight. who even remembers what it was about? it didn’t matter anymore. sitting in the bleachers watching your boyfriend prepare for his next match, you could see as a swarm of overzealous girls came running towards him. instead of his usual wave of acknowledgment and turning away to head for a more private area, he dove deep into the attention. he soaked up each compliment from every girl in the crowd with a sly smirk on his face. he accepted every picture he was asked to take; putting his hand around her waist, letting her kiss his cheek or feel his stupid muscles through his jersey. he did all of this knowing you had been there waiting; watching. he did all of this, not feeling a single bit of remorse up till the second he watched as hot tears streamed down your face and you ran out of the arena. shit. he had really fucked up.

DAICHI: overprotective. it was sweet daichi cared. really, it was. he’d place a firm hand around your waist when walking past guys in the street because he knew it made you feel safe. he’d have you sit a few rows back in the bleachers when watching his games “just in case”. and he’d always make sure you made it home safe after work or school. but, it soon turned into more than just those silly protective things. sometimes he made you feel like you couldn’t think or plainly act for yourself. everything had a risk to him; a risk that wasn’t worth taking with you. you tried to reason with him, but it never made sense to him in the way it did to you. he just wanted you to be safe after all, right?

TOBIO: anger issues. tobio didn’t mean to snap. it just.. well, happened. he loved you—he loves you— so much. he never wanted to see you cry; he never wanted to be the reason why you cried. but it had been a long day. practice had left him dead and dry. it had been back-to-back interviews, multiple photoshoots, and so many fucking autographs. today had taken everything out of him. as shallow as all of those things sounded, it was.. overstimulating, to say the least. kageyama couldn’t think of a better word to describe it; to name exactly what he felt. but when he came home and saw you in the kitchen; dishes stacked high, the pot on the stove bubbling over, the heat that overtook every single room in the apartment—he snapped. he lost it. you had opened your mouth to greet him and before you were able to say anything, all of the frustrations from today started pouring out of his mouth.

“fucking damnit. what the hell are you even doing, y/n? it’s a thousand fucking degrees in here with the stove on and it’s boiling over. fucking shit. i’m exhausted and i can’t even come home to have some damn peace in my own fucking house. what the actual hell?” his words burned through his throat, leaving a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue.

you said nothing as you turned the stove off, and walked straight past him.

“y/n—” he stuttered. “i’m—fuck— i’m so sorry. today was rough and i just..”

he looked down at you to see your body shaking; tears streaming down your face. he fucked up.

KEI: lack of communication. that best summed up kei’s entire life. including his life with you. one small argument and he was gone. vanished. nowhere to be found. not until you’d find him in some tucked away corner of your shared apartment. or outside the building during the evening. you could try your best to say something to him—anything—but it didn’t matter. he’d only talk to you on his own terms. but, what he was thinking? what he was feeling? that was a mystery to you. you could pour your heart out to him about how lost you felt; how much of a mystery his emotions were to you even after being together for so long. didn’t matter. he couldn’t piece together a string of words to give back to you. and that was going to be his downfall.

⁂ taglist: none at the moment ! let me know if you wanted to be tagged for anything<3 my requests are always open too !!

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romaevelizz · 7 months ago

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now playing crying at the chapel by elvis presley…

˖ ࣪⊹Tears falling down his face as he watched you walking down that isle. Never in millions of years did he think he’d be crying in front of so many people. Tears of joy knowing that you’d be his forever and until you died old together. How the white dress you wore looked so beautiful long making you look like a princess he longed for. You were the reason for his tears, knowing a long future with you awaited him, a dream you’ve had since you where a little girl. A dream he’d promised you. That you’d be the women he’d wake up and go to sleep everyday next to, the women to carry his child. God what did he do right to have you sent to him. He was just a man and you were a god given gift, tears running down his face his hands whipping away tears as he saw a smile appearing on your lips as you mad eye contact with him. You hand taking his hand your father gave you away, “I’m glad I’m leaving her in your hands, because you’ll give her the life she deserves.” Your father spoke giving him a nod. You were his new reason of life. His new light. His reminder he’s worthy of love.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, Kurro Tetesuro, TANAKA RYUUNOSKUE, BOKUTO KOUTAROU, Kageyama Tobi, TSUKISHIMA KEI, HINATA SHOUYO, Nishinoya Yu, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, Tendou Satori, OIKAWA TOORU, Akashi Keiji, YAMAGUCHI TADASHI, Daichi Sawamura, MIYA ATSUMU, ARAN OJIRO, +ur fav!☆

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thebestsetter · 3 months ago

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He was born to be by your side. It was his greatest desire, what he was meant to do. It's like being next to you came naturally to him, and he can't even remember how his life was before he met you. But what he can remember are the days you both spent together. Ridiculous conversations that, somehow, made so much sense to the both of you. So random, but yet holding so much meaning.

You were both laughing so hard. Walking by the shore, hand in hand. The sunset painting the sky with red and orange. Beautiful. So, so beautiful.

"When we grow up, we'll have a house by the beach" you said, swinging your arms together

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

He grabs your sun hat and puts it on his head, earning a small "Hey!" from you.

"And then we'll buy a cotton candy machine and make lots of cotton candies." He completes your thought while taking the final bite of his popsickle. You clean the side of his mouth (which was all smudged from the cold treat) and smile.

"Yeah, we can do that too."

You used to talk about your future a lot. More than the average couple, actually. Sometimes, you both reunited at your favorite cafeteria just to talk about life. How it was gonna be. How was gonna be your life together.

"A caramello cappucino with apple pie and a mint and chocolate milkshake, please" you said, and just hearing his typical order coming out of your mouth made him smile. Somehow, knowing you memorized his order made him happier than he could put into words.

After he paid (of course, he can't let you pay for your snacks. What kind of man would he be?) you both went to sit on a table right beside a window (you always loved looking out a window while talking, and he knew that. He knew you like the back of his hand). And like you couldn't handle the sound of silence, you started talking (and he'd never complain about it: he loved hearing you talk)

"We can have 3 kids, how about that?"

"I don't like odd numbers. Why not 4?"

"4 is too much" you said, sticking your tongue out and frowning your eyebrows (you looked so cute) "We can have 2, if the problem is odd numbers"

"2 is too little" he argued, and then sighed jokingly "Okay, fine, we can have 3"

You smiled, taking a sip from your milkshake

"Maybe after the third one, we can consider having a fourth, if you'd like"

And you knew he wanted to. Of course he did. He wanted to form a big, happy family with you. He wanted his future to be by your side. He couldn't picture a future without you. Which is why it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

"What's your favorite color? Mines yellow"

It hurts. He hates this. He hates this shit so freaking much. His heart feels like it's breaking, and his lungs are gasping for air. He can't look at his date without feelong absolutely sick, like he could literally throw up at the very moment. He can't help but think of you. How you were already talking about how many kids you'd like, and now he's back on the "knowing each other stage". It was so strange not seeing you.

"I'm sorry, please excuse me"

He can't spend a single minute here anymore. He's on the verge of dying, he's sure. And as if his body already knows exactly what makes him feel better, his feet take him to your house without him realizing.

His hand hovers upon the door, ready to knock on it. Life without you is meaningless. He needs you. He loves you. He loves you so fucking much.

"HHAHAHA Stop it!! Love, I swear, tickle me one more time and I will... HAHAHAHA"

He lowers his hand and walks away.

He loves you, that's why he's letting you go. He needs to let you go for your own good. You need to get over him (even though he's sure he'll never get over you)

He can't do this to you. Not when your new boyfriend treats you so well. Not when he fucked everything up. Not when he was the reason why you two broke up. He doesn't deserve you. He always knew you were too good for him. But now, he's doing you this favour to repay you for all the times you helped him. He's not going to disturb you.

Well, back to the talking stage, it seems.

GOJO SATORU, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, CHOSO KAMO, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, TSUKISHIMA KEI, Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Tooru, KUROO TETSURO, TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shota (kinda???), SHINSOU HITOSHI, RIN ITOSHI, SAE ITOSHI, BACHIRA MEGURU, Chigiri Hyoma, KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, REO MIKAGE + any character you think fits this!!

~ A/N: not proofread!!

Masterlist

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kiesbrainjuice · 4 months ago

Note

hi! req- hq charaters reaction to finding out yn sleeps always hugging a pillow

please feel no rush/pressure for this and take care of yourself :)

-- HQ BOYS SEEING YOU HUGGING YOUR PILLOW AT NIGHT !

syn : hq boys seeing you hugging your pillow as you waited for them at night

wc : 6.5k

tw : none ! pure fluff

a/n : thanks for your request and support !! I love the idea ! I dunno if what I did was what you asked precisely but enjoy reading <3

The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the thin curtains. The soft hum of the city outside was a constant lullaby, a distant reminder that life continued even as you lay alone in bed. You had been waiting for him, but sleep had crept in like a thief, stealing the time you intended to spend awake, waiting for his return. The bed felt vast and empty without him, a hollow space that you tried to fill with the embrace of your pillow. It wasn’t the same, but it was all you had in his absence.

Half-asleep, you clung to the pillow, its soft fabric a poor substitute for the warmth and solidity of his body. Your mind floated in the strange space between dreams and wakefulness, where thoughts and images blend into an incoherent but oddly comforting haze. In your dreamlike state, you could almost feel his presence, imagine his arms around you, his breath against your neck. The thought made you smile even in your semi-conscious state, a fleeting expression of contentment that lingered on your lips.

Then you heard the soft click of the front door, the creak of the floorboards under his familiar weight. He was home. The thought cut through your drowsiness, stirring you enough to be aware of the moment but not fully awake. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, savoring the anticipation of his touch, the reassurance that he was finally here.

You felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you. His movements were careful, considerate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. But you were already awake, your senses attuned to him in a way that felt almost instinctual. He leaned over, and you could feel his gaze on you, a soft, loving presence that enveloped you even in the darkness.

“You’re always hugging your pillow,” he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that brushed against the edges of your consciousness. There was amusement in his tone, a fondness that made your heart swell.

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a light, reassuring touch that sent a ripple of warmth through you. He gently pried the pillow from your grasp, replacing it with his body as he slid in behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and you nestled into him with a contented sigh. The pillow forgotten, you let yourself be enveloped by his warmth, his presence, the familiar rhythm of his breathing.

“I missed you,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. It was a simple statement, but it carried all the weight of the hours spent waiting, the moments of loneliness that melted away now that he was here.

“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice a soft rumble that vibrated through your back where it pressed against his chest. He kissed the back of your neck, a tender gesture that sent shivers down your spine.

You lay there in silence for a while, wrapped up in each other. His hand traced gentle patterns on your skin, a soothing motion that lulled you back towards sleep. You could feel the tension of the day melting away, replaced by a profound sense of peace. With him beside you, the world felt right again.

“Why do you always hug your pillow?” he asked after a while, his tone curious but light. You could hear the smile in his voice, feel it in the way his body relaxed against yours.

“It’s a poor substitute for you,” you admitted, turning your head slightly to catch a glimpse of his face. Even in the dim light, you could see the affection in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lips.

He chuckled softly, the sound a warm caress. “I’ll have to make sure I’m home on time more often, then.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and letting his words wash over you. “I’d like that.”

His grip tightened slightly, a silent promise that he would. You settled back into the comfortable silence, your breaths synchronizing, your hearts beating in time. The city outside continued its endless hum, but in your little cocoon, everything was perfect.

As you drifted back to sleep, you felt his hand slide up to cover yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. You squeezed his hand gently.

AKAASHI, KENMA, KITA, IWAIZUMI, KAGEYAMA

You felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you, his movements deliberate and gentle. There was a pause, a moment where you could sense his gaze on you, taking in the sight of you hugging the pillow like it was a lifeline. You stayed still, savoring the comfort of knowing he was there.

A soft chuckle broke the silence, and you felt his fingers lightly tap your shoulder. “You’re always hugging that pillow,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and affection.

Before you could respond, he leaned over and winked at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His grin widened, and suddenly, he wrestled the pillow from your grasp, pulling it away with a playful flourish.

“Hey!” you protested, your eyes fluttering open, more awake now from the unexpected action. You reached out, trying to grab the pillow back, but he held it just out of reach, laughing softly.

“What’s this?” he teased, holding the pillow up like a trophy. “Is this my competition? Am I being replaced by a pillow?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with his in the dim room. “It’s your fault for being late,” you shot back, trying to snatch the pillow again.

He deftly moved it aside, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your forehead. “Oh, really? And here I thought you’d be waiting up for me.”

“I tried,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But I got sleepy.”

He finally relented, tossing the pillow aside and sliding into bed next to you. “Well, I’m here now,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No more pillow hugs. Only me.”

You snuggled into his embrace, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the coolness of the pillow. “I guess you’ll do,” you teased, your voice muffled against his chest.

His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, a soothing motion that made your eyes flutter shut again. “Just ‘do,’ huh?” he murmured, his tone playful. “I’ll have to work on that.”

“You’re perfect,” you whispered, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice a soft rumble that vibrated through you. “Next time, I’ll try to be home sooner.”

You lay there in silence for a while, the city’s distant noises fading into the background. His presence was a balm, soothing the restlessness that had plagued your sleep. You felt his breath against your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your hand.

“So,” he said after a while, his tone light and teasing, “do I need to be worried about that pillow? Should I be jealous?”

You laughed again, the sound low and sleepy. “No, you’re safe. The pillow’s just a poor substitute for you.”

“Good to know,” he said, his voice filled with mock seriousness. “Because I’m not about to lose to a pillow.”

You smiled, the corners of your mouth lifting as you settled deeper into his embrace. “You’re irreplaceable.”

He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “So are you,” he whispered.

The pillow lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, a silent testament to the playful moment you’d shared. As you drifted back to sleep, you felt his hold tighten slightly, his presence grounding you in a way nothing else could.

KUROO, NISHINOYA, SUNA, YAMAMOTO, BOKUTO, ATSUMU

The bed dipped slightly as he sat down beside you. There was a pause, a moment of stillness where you could sense him watching you. You lay there, half-asleep, hugging your pillow in the absence of his embrace.

A soft sigh escaped him, and you felt the faint brush of his fingers against your shoulder. “Really?” he muttered, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and something else. He crossed his arms, and you could sense the shift in his mood even before he spoke again.

“Hey,” he said, louder this time, jostling your shoulder gently. “Wake up.”

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open to find him looking down at you, a slight frown creasing his brow. His arms were crossed, and he was pouting in a way that would have been comical if not for the underlying seriousness.

“Why are you always hugging that pillow?” he asked, his tone a mix of complaint and curiosity. “Am I that easy to replace?”

You blinked, still groggy from sleep, and tried to sit up. “What? No, of course not,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “I just… I was waiting for you, and I fell asleep.”

He uncrossed his arms, but the pout remained. “And the pillow gets to be your cuddle buddy? I’m feeling a little jealous here.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his playful complaint, reaching out to touch his arm. “I missed you. The pillow was just… it’s not the same.”

He sighed, but his expression softened. “You know, I come home expecting a warm welcome, and here you are, all cozy with your pillow.”

You laughed softly, the sound still thick with sleep. “I’m sorry. I promise it’s not as good as you.”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his attempt to stay stern. “You better mean that.”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer. “Come here. Show me why you’re irreplaceable.”

He allowed himself to be pulled, sliding into bed beside you. His arms wrapped around you, and you nestled into his familiar warmth, the pillow forgotten at the edge of the bed. “I guess I can forgive you this time,” he said, his voice softening.

You leaned into him, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your ear. “I’ll make it up to you.”

His hold tightened slightly, his breath warm against your hair. “You’d better.”

You lay there in the quiet, the earlier tension dissolving into the darkness. His presence was a balm, soothing the restlessness that had plagued your sleep. You felt his fingers gently stroke your back, a familiar and comforting gesture.

“So,” he said after a moment, his tone lighter, “why the pillow, anyway? Am I not cuddly enough?”

You smiled, closing your eyes and savoring the feel of him beside you. “You’re perfect. The pillow’s just a stand-in until you get home.”

He hummed softly, his chest vibrating against your cheek. “Well, I’m here now. No more pillow hugging.”

“Deal,” you whispered, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.

TSUKISHIMA, LEV, USHIJIMA, OIKAWA, HOSHIUMI, GOSHIKI

After a moment, you felt the bed shift as he sat down beside you. The faint glow of the moonlight revealed the hesitant look on his face. He was fidgeting with his hands, his fingers twisting together nervously.

He sighed softly, his voice quiet and hesitant when he finally spoke. “Do you not like cuddling with me?” he asked, his tone filled with uncertainty. “I hope I haven’t done anything to make you uncomfortable. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make it better.”

His words cut through the haze of your sleep, bringing you fully awake. You opened your eyes, finding him looking down at his hands, his expression a mix of worry and vulnerability. Your heart ached at the sight, and you reached out to touch his arm gently.

“No, it’s not that at all,” you said softly, sitting up and turning to face him. “I love cuddling with you. I was just waiting for you, and I fell asleep. The pillow… it’s not a replacement for you. It’s just something to hold onto until you get home.”

He glanced up, his eyes searching yours for sincerity. “Really?”

“Really,” you assured him, taking his hand in yours. “You’re irreplaceable. I’ve missed you so much tonight.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but the worry didn’t completely leave his eyes. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to turn to something else because I’m not enough.”

You squeezed his hand, shaking your head. “You’re more than enough. You make everything better just by being here.”

He nodded slowly, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. “I’m sorry for doubting. It’s just… seeing you like that, I worried I wasn’t doing enough.”

“You’re doing more than enough,” you said firmly, pulling him into an embrace. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you with a newfound determination. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you replied, resting your head against his chest. “We’re in this together.”

You stayed like that for a moment, the silence between you comfortable and reassuring. His hand gently stroked your back, and you could feel the tension leaving his body as he relaxed into the embrace.

“Can we… can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked quietly, his voice hesitant once more.

“Of course,” you replied, leaning into him. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You lay down together, his arms securely around you, and you nestled into his warmth. The pillow lay forgotten at the edge of the bed, its presence no longer needed. In his embrace, you felt safe, loved, and complete.

As the minutes passed, you felt sleep begin to claim you once more, but this time it was a peaceful, contented sleep. With him by your side, the world felt right again.

“I love you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft and full of emotion. “Always.”

UKAI, KAGEYAMA, YAKU, EITA, SUGAWARA, ASAHI

After a moment of quiet, I felt his gentle touch on my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, I found him looking down at me with a soft, dreamy smile. His eyes were warm, filled with affection as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice tender. “You’re so beautiful.”

I blinked up at him, surprised by the intensity of his gaze. “I was just waiting for you,” I murmured, feeling a bit self-conscious under his attentive gaze.

He shook his head slowly, his fingers continuing to brush my hair back with a loving, almost reverent touch. “I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t mean to make you wait. But seeing you like this… you’re just so cute, and peaceful.”

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, warmth spreading through me at his praise. “You’re making me blush, what happen today?” I said, smiling shyly but confused.

He chuckled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I can’t help it. You’re just so amazing. I love seeing you like this, even if it’s only with a pillow.”

“It’s not the same as having you here,” I said, reaching up to cup his face with my hand. “I missed you.”

His expression softened even further, his eyes sparkling with tenderness. “I missed you too. You’re the most beautiful person I know, and I don’t say it enough. Just seeing you here, like this… it makes me realize how lucky I am.”

He settled beside me, his arms wrapping around me with a warmth that instantly chased away the chill of the night. His touch was gentle and reassuring, a perfect contrast to the emptiness I had felt earlier. “You make everything better just by being you,” he whispered.

I snuggled into his embrace, feeling the tension of the day dissolve as his warmth surrounded me. “Thank you,” I said softly, resting my head against his chest. “That means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his voice filled with a deep, genuine affection. “I’m just glad I’m here now, and I want you to know how much I cherish you.”

We lay together in the quiet, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my back, the earlier worry replaced by a deep sense of peace. The pillow, now pushed aside, was a forgotten relic of the time spent waiting. In its place, I had the real thing—his warmth, his presence, his love.

“Promise me you’ll always tell me if you’re feeling lonely or need anything,” he said quietly, his breath warm against my hair.

“I promise,” I replied, feeling a wave of contentment wash over me. “And you promise to come home on time more often?”

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I promise. I’ll do my best.”

AKAASHI, OSAMU, SUGAWARA, USHIJIMA

A soft chuckle broke the quiet, and you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You slowly opened your eyes to find him looking down at you with a playful grin. His eyes crinkled at the corners, clearly amused by what he saw.

“You look so adorable hugging that pillow!” he said, his voice light and joyful. “I might get a little jealous.”

You blinked, the sleepiness slowly lifting from your mind as you turned to face him. “Jealous? Of a pillow?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. “It seems like that pillow’s got a pretty good gig going here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with his. “Well, it’s not exactly the same as you.”

He leaned closer, his smile widening. “I should hope not. I wouldn’t want to be replaced by a pillow, after all.”

He reached out and gently took the pillow from your grasp, tossing it aside with a playful flourish. As he settled beside you, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you close.

“You know,” he said, his voice softening as he rested his chin on the top of your head, “seeing you like this—so cute and cozy with the pillow—it just makes me want to squeeze you even more.”

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling the warmth and security of his presence. “Well, I’m glad you’re home,” you murmured, your voice filled with contentment.

“Me too,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on moments like this.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of complete peace as you settled into his arms. The pillow lay forgotten at the edge of the bed, no longer needed now that you had him.

HINATA, BOKUTO, TENDOU, ATSUMU

tag : @haechansbbg

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iidrk3i · 5 months ago

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☆ BUMP IN THE ROAD

hq -- kageyama tobio x gn!reader, iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader, kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader, oikawa tooru x gn!reader

summary: facing difficult challenges with your boyfriend.

warnings: angsty but comfort, slight food mentions (most of them are over dinner srry i was hungry😭), some crying

word count: 1.9k

✦ KAGEYAMA TOBIO. miscommunication

you knew that volleyball was important to your boyfriend. heck, everyone in school knew. at the start of the season, you were still able to see kageyama in between class periods and lunch break. but as the season went on, you noticed that it was becoming harder to see kageyama at school and outside of school. sometimes he would even skip lunch breaks to practice. it was clear that kageyama was dedicated to training and improving his skills. it was also clear that practicing 24/7 left him with little time for anything else.

you had patiently been waiting for an opportunity to spend quality time with kageyama. earlier today, you texted him and asked if he would like to come over and eat dinner with you. at first, you were left on read. you were worried to say the least. it's been around 2 since you've last spent time with him in person. as you were looking back at the previous messages between you and kageyama, there was a pattern with his texts. they've all been short and quick. around an hour later, you had gotten a notification that he had liked your message. taking that as a sign that he was on his way to your place, you had started to make his favorite meal, and as if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

“hey, tobio,” you greeted him with a soft smile as you opened the door.

“hey,” he mumbled, head tilted down as he swiftly walked in and took his shoes off.

those were the only words exchanged for a while. the both of you were sitting at your kitchen island, the only noise that was heard were the forks scraping against your plates.

“tobio?” you looked up at him. his hair was disheveled, eyebags evident on his face, and his eyes were empty.

"tobio?" you repeated softly, concern evnident in your voice. his demeanor was so different from the lively, determined kageyama you knew.

he glanced up briefly, meeting your gaze for a fleeting moment before his eyes dropped again. "sorry," he murmured, pushing his food around on his plate without much appetite.

you hesitated, unsure of how to approach the growing distance between you. "is everything okay?" you asked gently, reaching out to touch his hand.

he tensed slightly at your touch, pulling his hand away, as if a reflex. "i'm fine," he replied curtly, his tone cold.

the air between you thickened with tension. you knew kageyama well enough to recognize when something was bothering him, but getting him to open up was always a challenge.

"i... i missed you," you admitted quietly, hoping your vulnerability would help him speak his mind.

he sighed heavily, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "i know," he said finally, his voice hinted with frustration. "i've just been... stressed. there's a lot ofpressure this season, and i feel like i'm letting everyone down if i don't keep improving."

you listened attentively, heart aching for the weight he carried on his shoulders. "you're not letting anyone down, tobio," you assured him gently. "we all see how hard you're working, and we're proud of you. but... i miss you too. i miss us."

he looked up at you then, sadness in his eyes. "i miss us too," he admitted quietly, remorse clear in his tone. "i'm sorry if i've been distant. i just... i want to be the best for the team, for myself."

you nodded understandingly, reaching out to hold his hand again, this time finding no resistance. "you don't have to do it alone, tobio," you murmured, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "we're here for you. i'm here for you."

he squeezed your hand back gratefully, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. "thank you," he whispered, his voice laced with emotion.

—

✦ IWAIZUMI HAJIME. lies

iwaizumi had been acting unusually distant and preoccupied for the past few days, which hadn't gone unnoticed by you. despite your attempts to engage him in conversation or spend time together, iwaizumi seemed to be avoiding them, always coming up with excuses about extra training sessions or team meetings.

one evening, after a particularly long and tiring day for both of you, you decided to surprise him with dinner at his place. you had been looking forward to some quality time together, hoping it would give you guys a chance to reconnect. right as you arrived at his doorstep with bags of groceries in hand, you were surprised to find iwaizumi already home, looking visibly surprised and flustered at your unexpected visit.

"hey, haji," you greeted him with a smile, trying to ignore the tension in the air. "i thought i'd make us dinner tonight. i hope that's okay."

iwaizumi hesitated for a moment, glancing nervously towards the kitchen. "actually, um, i have plans with the team tonight," he replied, his voice sounding strained.

your smile faltered slightly, a disappointed expression creeping onto your face. "but you said you were free tonight," you pointed out gently, feeling a wave of hurt.

iwaizumi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "yeah, something came up last minute. it's important, i promise," he insisted, avoiding your gaze.

feeling a mix of frustration and confusion, you couldn't help but press further. "hajime, is everything okay? you've been distant lately, and now this..."

he looked torn, clearly struggling with his next words. "it's just... there's been a lot going on with the team. i didn't want to worry you," he finally admitted, his voice tinged with guilt.

your eyebrows furrowed. "so you lied to me?" you asked softly, hurt evident in your tone.

iwaizumi looked torn, realizing the weight of his actions. "i didn't mean to," he started, but you interrupted, your frustration bubbling over.

"you didn't mean to lie, or you didn't mean to hurt me?" you questioned, your voice going against you as it trembled slightly.

iwaizumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "i'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, meeting your gaze finally. "i didn't handle this well. i just... i didn't want to burden you with my problems."

you softened slightly, recognizing the sincerity in his apology. "i understand, but i want us to be honest with each other, hajime," you said firmly, your hurt still lingering.

he nodded, reaching out to gently touch your arm. "i know. i'll do better," he promised as he got up from where he was, and engulfed you in a hug.

—

✦ KUROO TETSUROU. past actions

kuroo had been unusually quiet all evening, a brooding intensity replaced his normally easy going demeanor. as you and your boyfriend sat across from each other at the dinner table, the tension in the air was obvious. you glanced up from your plate, sensing something was wrong.

"is everything okay, tetsu?" you asked tentatively, voice breaking the uneasy silence.

kuroo sighed heavily, setting down his fork with more force than necessary. "no, not really."

you furrowed your brows, concerned. "what’s wrong? you’ve been distant all day."

"that’s the thing," he began, tone tinged with frustration. "it’s not just today. i feel like we keep having the same issues, over and over again."

your heart sank as you realized what kuroo was referring to—the unresolved problems from your past arguments that always seemed to resurface. you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation any longer.

"i thought we had talked through most of those," you replied softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

"yeah, but it feels like we never really resolve anything," kuroo argued, his voice rising slightly. "remember that time we fought about—"

"don’t bring that up again, tetsu," you interrupted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "we settled that, didn't we?"

"but did we really?" kuroo shot back, his frustration now fully unleashed. "it’s like we just patch things up for the moment, and then it all comes back."

the argument escalated, both of you bringing up problems that had long been buried but never fully addressed. voices rose, words became sharper as each accusation hit closer to home. kuroo felt a pang of guilt for bringing up the past, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dissatisfaction that had been gnawing at him.

you fought back tears, feeling the weight of the unresolved issues crushing you. "i thought we were better than this," you choked out, voice trembling.

kuroo’s expression softened momentarily at the sight of your watery eyes, but his frustration lingered. "i do too, but how do we move forward if we can't even talk about this?"

the argument reached it's peak, both of you hurt and exhausted. kuroo sighed heavily once more, running a hand through his hair in frustration. you stared down at your plate, tears silently streaming down your face.

"i.. don't know," you finally whispered, the fight draining out.

kuroo’s heart sank at the defeated tone in your voice. he realized then how much you both needed to find a way to resolve your problems—not just for the sake of the relationship, but for your own peace of mind.

"i’m sorry," kuroo murmured, his voice barely audible. "i just... i want us to be okay."

you looked up, meeting kuroo’s eyes with a mix of sadness and longing.

"me too," you whispered back, a glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes.

—

✦ OIKAWA TOORU. jealousy and insecurities

oikawa had always been charismatic, charming, and surrounded by admirers—both on and off the court. you had always been supportive of his career and his popularity, but lately, found yourself struggling with a growing sense of insecurity.

one evening after a particularly intense match, you and oikawa were walking back to his apartment when a group of fangirls approached, giggling and asking for autographs. oikawa agreed with his usual friendly smile and playful banter, much to the delight of his fans. you stood slightly behind him, feeling invisible and increasingly uneasy.

as you finally entered oikawa’s apartment, you couldn't contain their feelings any longer. "tooru, can we talk for a moment?"

he turned towards you with a grin, still buzzing from the excitement of the match. "of course, what's on your mind?"

"it’s just..." you hesitated, unsure how to voice your feelings without sounding petty. "i feel like you don't notice how much attention you get from other girls."

oikawa’s expression shifted to confusion, his brows furrowing slightly. "what do you mean?"

you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. iI mean... those fangirls. they’re always around you, and you're so nice to them, which is great! but sometimes, i feel... i feel like i’m not enough. like i can't compete with all those girls who adore you."

your boyfriend’s eyes widened as he finally understood your feelings. "y/n, i didn't realize you felt like this." he stepped closer, gently taking your face in his hands. "i appreciate my fans, but you... you're the most important person to me. no one compares to you."

you felt a rush of relief hearing oikawa’s reassuring words, but the insecurities still lingered. "i know, but sometimes it's hard not to feel jealous."

oikawa nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "i get it now. i’m sorry if I made you feel that way. i’ll try to be more aware of how my interactions might affect you."

you hugged him gratefully, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "thank you, tooru. i needed to hear that."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "i’m here for you, always. don’t hesitate to tell me when something's bothering you."

a/n: i was listening to champagne coast while writing these

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu comfort #kageyama tobio #iwaizumi hajime #kuroo tetsurou #oikawa tooru #haikyuu x reader #kageyama angst #iwaizumi angst #kuroo angst #oikawa angst #kageyama x reader #iwaizumi x reader #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #hq x reader #hq angst #hq

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cr4yolaas · 5 months ago

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blue spring — kageyama tobio

synopsis: in the trenches of her own being, he frees her from self-destruction. unknowingly.

content: university au. artist rdr. classmates/tutor + tutored to lovers. soft angst and fluff. slow burn. may be ooc. family trauma. yn is an overachiever. cursing. kys jokes. mentions of sex (this fic is sfw).

status: completed

🐰 indicates the chapter contains written content.

profiles: bestest friends ever + tsukishima | bros !!

chapters:

prologue

i. teach me! 🐰

ii. monkey tie at the exhibit 🐰

iii. something sweet 🐰

iv. coping mechanism 🐰

v. two-headed lamb 🐰

vi. new, scary, unexpected

vii. too silly

viii. downward spiral 🐰

ix. guilt 🐰

x. wonder 🐰

xi. spaces inbetween 🐰

xii. caving in 🐰

xii. remember to be patient!

xiii. until we’re old and wrinkly 🐰

xiv. my blue spring 🐰

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admiringlove · 1 month ago

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growing pains. hello everybody. welcome to the second rendition of @angstober 2024! i hope you enjoy <3

kageyama tobio was a cute kid.

he moved in when you were just three. back then, your days were filled with learning big words, your mother patiently guiding you through children's books, when suddenly, a boy with an oversized, odd-looking ball came into your world. his hair was parted right down the middle, and every day, he’d be out in the yard, chasing after that strange ball with his grandfather, completely obsessed.

you were six when he first said hello. it took him two and a half years to work up the courage, and all because that ridiculous ball of his ended up in your front yard. without asking, he came through the gate, eyes wide with panic, just as you were about to head to the park.

“who are you?” you’d asked, head tilted with curiosity, and he’d stammered out his name like he’d been caught red-handed in a burglary. then, of course, you had to ask about the ball—bigger than his head. what was the deal with that? “it’s a volleyball,” he’d mumbled, and from that moment on, the two of you were intertwined, like a mystery waiting to unfold.

for the next ten years, kageyama tobio became your favorite puzzle. you chased after him like someone chasing a wild animal, half playfully, half determined. at first, it was a game—like you were sherlock and he, your elusive moriarty. your mother had always read you detective stories before bed, so solving the enigma that was kageyama seemed only natural.

when he turned seven, he found you in his front yard, peering through a magnifying glass, completely absorbed in your detective work. for an entire week, the two of you played with that thing, examining ants at the park, squinting at the pen strokes his father made in his books. eventually, he got bored. but you didn’t. no, you kept staring—sometimes at the world, but often at him.

you never tired of anything, especially not of him. you wanted to know more, to know everything. curiosity overflowed within you, spilling out like an unsolvable riddle. and you know what they say—curiosity killed the cat.

because it wasn’t just the world you wanted to uncover, not really. it was kageyama tobio. he was the one who truly fascinated you. when you learned in fifth grade that he had a soft spot for flavored milk, that was it. it became your little tradition. every so often, you’d head to the vending machine, and without fail, you’d grab him a drink—banana or strawberry, depending on the day. in return, he’d hand you the chips his mother packed in his lunch, like an unspoken exchange, as familiar as breathing. if it were up to him, it would always be strawberry.

and that’s how it was, the two of you orbiting each other like planets—his world of volleyball, your world of endless curiosity. playful, magnetic, bound together by rituals only you two understood.

you turned eleven and discovered that liking boys was a real thing. at first, the thought repulsed you; all you wanted was to bury yourself in the pages of sherlock holmes and pretend to play volleyball with kageyama. he was a prodigy, after all, dazzling everyone with his skills. kids from other districts flocked to watch him, enchanted by his talent. thankfully, he hadn’t yet transformed into an absolute twat; his ego was still catching up with him, lingering just out of reach.

“tobio,” you said one day, scrutinizing him as he carelessly set the ball near the riverbank. your gaze was fixed on the tips of his fingers, studying them as if they were an intricate puzzle waiting to be solved. he paused, turning to face you with a look of curiosity. “don’t your fingers hurt?”

“eh?” he replied, shuffling closer. with a flick of his wrist, he held out his hand toward you. “you mean this?”

the eleven-year-old boy displayed a myriad of calluses on his hands, more than you could count. you gasped in dramatic shock, a hand flying to your mouth, and couldn’t resist teasing him about his mother not noticing how rough and unsightly they had become. his eyes narrowed in mock indignation as he yelled at you for talking trash about his mother. you quickly apologized, laughter bubbling up as you declared you would simply have to complain about his “disgusting” hands instead.

that was the essence of your friendship—something sacred, woven from playful banter and shared secrets. the two of you were inseparable, bound by the threads of childhood innocence and mischief.

now, when you think back, it’s often to those moments—him proudly displaying his calluses as you played near the bridge by the river, the sun casting golden hues across the water. you remember walking home alongside him at sunset, a flutter of fear in your stomach about the kidnappers your father had warned you about just the other day. tobio had simply chuckled, telling you that you weren’t an actual genius like sherlock, so you couldn’t possibly be a target for any kidnapper anyway.

life was so simple, so beautifully uncomplicated, until you turned fourteen.

because that’s when you realized you had indeed grown up. you were on the winding road to adulthood, and suddenly, you found yourself hopelessly in love with your next-door neighbor, kageyama tobio—your best friend of eight years. he had sprouted taller, like a young tree reaching for the sky, and his voice had deepened into a rich timbre that sent butterflies flitting through your stomach. everything felt like it was shifting beneath your feet, especially as he found new friends who flocked to him like birds of a feather, while you remained nestled in your closely knit circle, distanced from him.

how were you supposed to navigate these newfound feelings? the conditions were far from ideal. how could you possibly have a crush on him while trying to maintain the friendship you cherished so much, especially when your social circles had diverged at school? being a teenager had suddenly morphed into a tangled web of complexities, each strand pulling you in different directions.

you still managed to walk home with him every day after your club activities, a routine that felt like a comforting ritual. you were quickly on your way to becoming the head of your literature club at junior high, while kageyama had been consumed by his passion for volleyball since he was just a kid. being next-door neighbors with the love of your life was undeniably convenient; it meant he had no choice but to stroll alongside you.

thankfully, the dynamic remained blissfully unchanged. the playful teasing, the exchange of strawberry and banana milk, and the shared bags of cheese puffs, or sometimes other chips, were the threads that wove your friendship together. it didn’t matter what snack you had; all you really wanted was to watch him sip through a thin plastic straw, the golden glow of the setting sun casting a warm halo around him as you walked the quiet streets together.

you cherished these moments, especially since he never hurried you along. instead, he walked slowly, savoring the time spent together, as if he genuinely enjoyed your company. this new pace allowed you both to appreciate the little things—the laughter of children playing in the distance, the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze, and the gentle warmth of the sun dipping below the horizon. it felt like a breath of fresh air, invigorating and sweet, a reminder that these small moments were treasures to be cherished.

but then you turned fifteen, and tobio transformed into someone unrecognizable. the boy who had once sparked your curiosity now seemed bitter and hardened, his heart cloaked in ego that swelled within him like a balloon about to burst. his tone had sharpened, cutting through the air like a knife, and he often wore a mask of rudeness that left you reeling. yet, despite it all, your heart still weakly fluttered whenever he was near, an instinctive reaction you couldn’t quite shake.

then it happened. one fateful day, as you walked past the gym to pick up tobio, you overheard a conversation that pierced through you like an arrow.

"aren't they your childhood friend? don't you think they're attractive, even if it's just a little?"

the words lingered in the air, but before you could savor the thought, his response shattered your heart.

"what? no! i could never see them like that. this is grossing me out. stop talking nonsense and focus on volleyball. you didn't spike this set on time!"

his words struck like a hammer, relentless and unforgiving, stomping on your heart a million times without him even realizing the damage he’d done. it was as if the boy you had cherished for so long had vanished, leaving behind only a shadow of the friendship you once held dear.

that day, you walked home alone for the first time ever, the silence of the empty streets echoing the ache in your chest. when the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, you felt a weight pressing down on you. the next day, he didn’t question your absence, didn’t seem to care at all. and in that moment, you understood: you were no longer the person he had once found intriguing. you were just a ghost of a past friendship, lost in the void that had replaced your bond. he was not moriarty anymore, and neither were you sherlock.

you wondered if you ever were.

slowly, you created a chasm between him and you. it was a drift you instigated, unaware of the full weight of your decision. one by one, he lost the people he once held close, and you stood on the sidelines, a silent witness, hoping desperately that he would grasp the hint you were trying to send.

then, one afternoon, while walking home with a small paper bag of eggs cradled in your arms, you collided with him. curses swirled through your mind as you attempted to sidestep him, but his voice cut through the air, halting your escape.

"aren't you cold?"

you raised an eyebrow, turning to meet his gaze, your heart racing with an unexpected mix of hope and apprehension. you hummed softly in response, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. he repeated his question, and you shook your head, summoning a casualness you didn’t truly feel. "just a small walk. i didn't think i'd need a jacket."

"right," he mumbled under his breath, and the silence that followed felt thick with unspoken words. a part of you longed to mention his recent benching during the last match, but the fear of misinterpretation held you back, like a weight pressing on your tongue.

"are you doing okay nowadays?" the question slipped from your lips before you could stop it. you still cared, a part of you reluctant to sever the last thread binding you to him. it felt like that age-old adage—"curiosity killed the cat"—echoing in your mind, a reminder of your unfulfilled longing.

he opened his mouth, perhaps to share something profound, but then hesitated. you knew his expressions as well as the lines of your own heart; he seemed to weigh his words carefully. "i'm okay. i'm going to a high school called karasuno. you?"

the answer came too quickly, and the disappointment surged within you. "i'm going to seijoh, like oikawa and iwa-senpai," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "i enrolled there because i thought you'd be going there too. so, you know, we could walk together-"

he cut you off, the sharpness of his words slicing through the fragile moment. "we haven't done that in months, who are you kidding?"

you blinked, surprise washing over you like cold water. he was right. in the span of what felt like an eternity, the simple companionship you had once shared had faded into memory. perhaps your wishful thinking had blinded you to the reality; you were no longer the two kids wandering home together.

"i'm... sorry," you tilt your head, "have i done something to make you mad?"

you thought this was what he wanted—that he didn’t care for your tetra packs of strawberry or banana milk, that he was indifferent to your presence beside him as you walked home from school. the realization stung like a bee’s bite, leaving you with the unsettling notion that your companionship was as easily replaceable as the snacks you offered. but then he clicked his tongue, shaking his head with that familiar exasperation, his voice laced with sarcasm that dripped like spicy honey, sweet yet sharp.

“no. you can never do anything wrong, am i right?”

with that, he turned and walked into his house, leaving you standing there, the air heavy with unsaid words.

months passed without a glimpse of him. it was only when you were returning home from literature club, the sun dipping below the clouds, casting long shadows on the pavement, that you spotted him. there he was, in a black uniform, juggling a volleyball under one arm while the other struggled to pry a few papers from between his teeth as he rummaged through his bag.

“do you need any help?” your voice sliced through the crisp evening air, a tentative offering. he blinked, momentarily surprised, before handing you the scattered papers and the ball.

“y-yeah. i’m looking for my keys. ever since miwa went off to college, there’s no one to open the door when i get home.”

“right,” you nodded, trying to maintain the semblance of normalcy. you didn’t need to fill the silence anymore; you were both ghosts of the friendship that once thrived in easy conversation. “i can walk in with these if you want. help you put them wherever, since it’s hard to carry everything together-”

“it’s okay,” he interrupted, his tone clipped, a habit you had grown all too familiar with. “i can take care of myself.”

your lips pressed together, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “alright then,” you replied, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth.

but as you turned toward your front yard, the moment shattered into a sharp breath. “why did you stop walking home with me?” his voice rang out into the twilight, a challenge hanging between you like a fragile thread.

the world around you fell silent, the air thick with unspoken words. the confrontation hung in the space between you, an echo of the past colliding with the reality of the present. you hesitated, heart racing, caught in the tension of a friendship unravelling, desperately wanting to answer but unsure of how to put the fragments of your feelings into words. "you weren't yourself, i guess. that, and i heard you say something about me to someone. but never mind that. it doesn't matter anymore."

“what?” he furrows his brows, confusion etching deep lines on his forehead. “what do you mean you heard me say something about you to someone? what the hell did i even say for this to happen to us?”

“didn’t you want this to happen?” you retort, your words tumbling out like a well-rehearsed line from a play. “i thought you found me gross.”

he blinks, taken aback, his surprise evident in the widening of his eyes. “when did i ever say i found you gross? what is wrong with you?”

“what is wrong with me?” you echo, the fire in your chest igniting into a full blaze. you’re not quite sure where this rage is coming from, but it feels exhilarating and terrifying all at once. “what’s wrong with me is that it was my fault for ever loving you and thinking you could feel the same because you’re a selfish prick! you’re oblivious and dense and you don’t feel the same way about me, so i left because i didn’t want to be in a place where i wasn’t needed-”

realization crashes over you like a tidal wave in mid-sentence, the weight of your words suffocating. a hand flies to cover your mouth, the confession hanging in the air like an uninvited guest. his expression morphs into one of shock, the volleyball slipping from his grasp and hitting the pavement with a dull thud.

you can’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, the way his world seems to tilt on its axis, so you turn and flee, heart racing as you dart into your house, slamming the door behind you. the echo of your confession reverberates in your mind, each heartbeat reminding you of what you just unleashed—a truth that feels like it could shatter everything.

you avoided him for months after that moment, but still, you found yourself at every game, an invisible presence in the crowd. you watched as karasuno faced off against kamomedai, your heart aching with every spike and serve, each point a reminder of the distance that had grown between you. tobio had transformed into someone new, shedding his egotistical shell like a snake sloughing off its skin, and finding camaraderie with teammates who genuinely cared for him.

it filled you with anger. why couldn’t he have made this change years ago? if only he had, maybe letting go of your feelings would have been easier. instead, you felt trapped on the sidelines of his life, a spectator to a story that once intertwined your paths.

“w-what are you doing here?” a shaky voice pulls you from your thoughts as you exit the gym. you turn, startled, to find kageyama tobio standing before you. his chest heaves with exertion, droplets of sweat glistening on his skin, and he gazes at you as if you were a relic he had lost long ago.

“i... came to watch the game,” you reply, shrugging, trying to sound casual. “you did good. i hope your friend isn’t injured, by the way.”

“yeah... he’s uh- hinata’s fine,” he nods, his words a soft echo in the tense air. “thank you for coming. it means a lot.”

you press your lips into a straight line, nodding, the weight of the moment heavy between you. it feels like the right time to leave, to escape the growing tension, but he continues.

“i felt the same way about you back then,” he says, and your heart drops, your feet seemingly glued to the ground. his melancholic gaze pierces through you, and the heartbreak looms overhead like a storm cloud ready to burst. “i’m sorry if i hurt you.”

“y-you what?” you whisper, tilting your head as disbelief washes over you. “tobio, you-”

“i can’t say i feel that way now. all i can focus on from now on is volleyball,” he sighs, his gaze falling to the floor, the weight of his words suffocating. “but it really was great being friends with you. i hope we can... try that again sometime.”

in that moment, something within you shatters, the pieces scattering like autumn leaves in a gust of wind. you realize how deeply you had clung to him, how he had become the center of your universe; an object of desire you could never grasp. slowly, painfully, he had outgrown you, moving forward as you remained rooted in the past, a decision you made to push him away when he needed you the most.

perhaps this was what you deserved. perhaps this was how it was meant to be—him, chasing his dreams like icarus, and you, watching from the side lines, heart heavy with the weight of unfulfilled wishes and lost chances.

#kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio angst #kageyama tobio fluff #kageyama tobio x you #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! fanfic #kageyama tobio fanfiction

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bunnykissses · 20 days ago

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URGENT COMMISSIONS

hello, i opened this account because my city Valencia (spain) got flooded, we have more than 200 dead people and more than 1900 missing.

Im opening fanfic comissions to donate all the money to the animal shelters that got destroyed

Rules

- Scenarios, reaction and headcanons: max 3 characters > 1€ donation

- Fanfic x reader/ship > 1€ each 1k words

- Will write nsfw and sfw, everything is welcomed

- You can either pay me through paypal or donating directly to the shelter

I write for:

enstars, saiki, haikyuu, twisted wonderland, tokyo revengers, jjk, csm, obey me, aot, more! just ask me!

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c1nnam00n · 6 months ago

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seeing a dead fandom get revived after DECADES

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hiraethwa · 23 days ago

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to be loved is to be known

two; here we go again // the red strings bring you back to me

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, divorced!reader, fluff, healing from past marriage

wc. 6.8k

featured track. haze by LUCY

you have me. even when you think you don't. i was only ever yours to begin with.

kageyama tobio accepted the offer to play with ali roma that following season.

you had seemed happier in the following weeks with no recollection of the night of your birthday, so he tells himself that he is happy for you that you managed to mend whatever it was in your marriage. not that it ever stops him from thinking that he wouldn’t have allowed it to happen in the first place if he was your husband. if, if, if.

but he isn’t, so he throws himself into volleyball, the love of his life. between the busy season leading up to the olympics and moving to italy, he didn’t have much time to miss you anyway.

you didn’t normally text or call each other outside of volleyball, the only thing that threads a very thin connection between you, so he sort of lost contact with you naturally, the delicate string unraveling through disuse.

it’s been many months since he settled in italy, so he gathers it’s time to move on with his life—move on from you. he thinks he is actually doing alright in that department, chasing after whispers of your name on written articles, posts, updates significantly less than he used to when he first moved there.

once again, kageyama forgets to account for the variable that is you.

because he finds you knocking on his apartment door as he returns from his grocery run, and his arms slacken, bags falling to the wooden floor. a tomato tumbles out onto the floorboard. he wonders if he is hallucinating—he thought he had been doing so well in the moving-on-from-you department too.

“kageyama!” he finds himself flustered at the lack of formalities coming from you.

“kuroo-san? w–what are you doing here?” how did you even find where he lives?

“didn’t you send me that text to drop by if i visit italy? you didn’t tell me you changed your mind.” you help him with the bags as he fumbles with his keys. why won’t the key fob just orient itself properly?

wait, the text? he didn’t text you, did he? finally, the lock on his front door registers the presence of the fob and unlocks. he realizes belatedly, as you set down his groceries on the kitchen floor, that he must have accidentally sent you the text that was meant for hinata.

no wonder hinata never said anything about it.

kageyama wisely chooses not to mention his mistake to you. he listens to you point out a few things you’ve noticed in your trip so far—the gorgeous architecture, the gelato storefronts that seem to line every other block, the mouthwatering food you tried so far—patiently waiting for you to explain this bizarre situation to him.

it is extremely out-of-character for you to show up unannounced, and not to mention, formalities and boundaries be damned. and you are rambling, seemingly nervous, your tell of tucking your hair behind your ear giving you away.

so he nods along with you, commenting here and there, pretending like all of this is normal (when none of it is) as you make yourself at home at his kitchen island, telling him stories while watching him put his groceries away.

kageyama could almost pretend that this is your domestic life. one in another world where the gods favored him.

he recognizes the glint of wildness in your eyes, the look when you take a leap of faith, uncalculated faith, trusting, hoping that you will land on the other side safely.

“say, if, if aeroitalia smi roma gave me an offer to join them here in italy next season. what would you do if you were me?”

aeroitalia smi roma. here in italy. a barrage of questions appear, one that especially looms above them all. his eyes wander to your hands, noting the absence of the gold band on your ring finger. he tamps down on the blind hope rising to the surface of his heart.

“i would take it. they’re one of the best in italy.” but what about kuroo-san?

you nod at his statement, mostly to yourself. he registers the faraway look in your eyes as you turn to look out the window at the busy streets below.

he could almost taste the hope on his tongue, could almost imagine a life shared with you, doing groceries together, having you stare out his kitchen window as you are now on a lazy saturday afternoon, a cup of steaming hot latte in your hands. almost.

“could i ask you for a favor?”

“anything.” he breathes.

another lifetime where you would barrage him to decorate his relatively empty apartment, its four plaster walls empty and unused, to make his place feel like a home.

“i am going to need a tour guide when i come back.” you look pointedly at him.

he tries not to let his smile shine through too much. “when you come back?”

this lifetime where he would take anything you are willing to offer, make his peace with it. it has been so long he’s almost forgotten it, how easy it was to be around you, natural as breathing, familiar as a volleyball in between his palms.

as though he’s a desolate tree that survived all winter, the chill that festered in his bones being chased away by your warm gentle rays of sunlight from the unexpectedly early spring.

“you know, if aeroitalia did give me an offer.”

“i have barely been here for a year.” he laughs, coming to a stop next to you, staring out at the streets.

“still barely a year longer than me. plus, you can speak some italian, right?” you elbow him.

“i guess i will see you then, huh?” he tilts his head at you, dimples showing. you smile back at him—barely, a ghost of what it used to be.

he makes a vow to the gods that he would do anything to bring it back. anything.

“i’ll be two doors away if you need me.” you think kageyama was being polite as he helped you lug your suitcases up twelve flights of stairs with the elevator undergoing maintenance.

you bang your head on the wall in embarrassment. what exactly were you thinking when you showed up at kageyama’s apartment last month, and then pestered him with your stupid questions about moving to italy?

oh my god. he was probably just being polite and didn’t know how to tell you off. your relationship with kageyama had been strictly work-related, but you went off the rails, too worried about the move to italy while finalizing your divorce to be anxious over what he thought of you.

you ignore the uneasiness in your chest as you fish your phone out, feeling a buzz from it.

it’s a text from kageyama. you alright over there? shit. that was the wall between your apartments, wasn’t it? you text back a yep! before letting your shame out in a silent scream.

you make quick work of putting your essentials away, clothes, toiletries, packed food ingredients (as kageyama suggested), and some miscellaneous things that you managed to fit in two suitcases. the apartment came furnished, and two suitcases wasn’t much to begin with, having left most of the items from your previous marriage behind.

the sun is setting by the time you finish. the apartment looking just a little less vacant with your jacket strewn over the back of your couch, sauces and seasonings dotting the space next to the stovetop for now.

it’s not home, but it will do, for the time being. until you could fill in the missing fixtures and appliances, like a coat hanger for the front door, some bathroom necessities, kitchen knives. the list grows by the second as you survey your new space from where you are curled up by the kitchen window.

you lean your head against the wooden panels, admiring the yolk-colored ball of fire casting its final rays of light over the bustling city before darkness falls, much like flipping the last page of the chapter.

you stay there until the last strand of sunlight disappears over the horizon, rome now enveloped in specks of yellow. the sun will rise again tomorrow, it’s time to start a fresh page.

still, it feels odd knowing you are the only one who will walk through the front door every evening, that you have this space all to yourself.

your habitual tadaima slipping from your lips to no one in particular as you cross the threshold of your apartment, not that kuroo was ever present physically or mentally to welcome you home with a responding okaeri. on days when he came home after you (which was most), he often beelined for the shower, briefcase left at the front door, which he would come back to later, flipping through project documents past working hours.

you could probably count on ten fingers the handful of times that he even noticed your presence in the living room and mumbled a tadaima before tugging off his tie in the last year of your marriage.

it is easy to forget how much your life has changed during the day, occupied with the pace of practice and the frenzy of filling your apartment. so easy to gloss over the kuroo-shaped hole in your heart when the sound of the cities floods out the voices in your head.

when the night falls, and the city quiets, that’s when it gets loud. the sound of nothing, the crackling static gets so deafening in your ears, your mind, overwhelming your senses.

the realization that you really left everyone who’s ever loved you behind in japan to find something new, different in a foreign country, its tongue that you are struggling to decipher, the loneliness of being abroad.

the hollowness in your chest that amplifies the nothingness in your ears.

you have taken a liking to the city nightscape, eyes staring out at nothing in particular as you sit by the window by your lonesome, trying your very best to adapt and learn to be comfortable alone in your spacious apartment. to allow your thoughts and fears and hopes to speak to you while the static buzzes in the background, acknowledging them and letting them flow over and through you.

i hear you.

it gets easier to breathe the more you sit by the window overlooking the city. the sense of loss that once pressed on you at every waking moment dulls to a quiet throb.

you look out the window, where the first rays of sunlight peek over the city, dancing through the window and illuminating your kitchen in its softness, loosening a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

it’s the first morning you actually see the sunrise, legs cramping, as the sun climbs over the horizon, wishing you a good morning, since you moved in weeks ago.

it feels like deja vu as kageyama tobio finds you outside his apartment door, arm poised to knock on it, except you don’t. still as a statue, you stand frozen in doubt, the only movement from your fingers flexing and curling catching his eye.

even the shadows themselves seem to curl tighter around you as he approaches you carefully, as if you were a wild animal emerging from hibernation that would vanish back into the darkness at the slightest disturbance.

the gods must be over the moon with the new creative ways they are coming up with to toy with his heartstrings. the roles so starkly reversed between you and him, his once brilliant sun reduced to mere echoes of its former glory, leaving him to play what used to be your role and bring you out of your shell.

kageyama wonders if it would be appropriate if he poked fun at you the way you used to at him, if he would be overstepping his lines. then again, the lines had been blurred and redrawn over the past month, he thinks, remembering the first time you reached out to him after dropping by without notice, not really volleyball related.

hey! what should i bring to italy? you had texted him, the bubble showing that you’re still typing. like stuff you can’t get there.

he had thought long and hard about it before replying—curry cubes. perhaps that one was too specific, as he follows up with another text. sorry. anything you like to eat in japan, it’s hard to get japanese ingredients here. you had reacted to his message with a heart and left it at that.

and then more random messages.

do i need to bring a rice cooker? probably not…? i bought mine here. [image attachment] maybe i should bring one…

kageyama couldn’t help but laugh at that one. did you really have such specific preferences?

hey, do you think rome has nice soy sauce? just bring it.

how cold does it get there? tokyo is much colder, just bring your lighter coats.

he could just try. what’s the worst that could happen, right?

“hey.” he feels bad as you flinch at his sudden appearance, having half a mind to scurry back to the safety of your apartment, but it was too late—you have been spotted. “the door isn’t going to bite.”

“oh, hey, i wasn’t sure if you were home.” you rub the back of your head sheepishly.

“our practice ended late, what’s up?” he spies the stack of curry cube packages under your other arm, the thought of you remembering the stupid text he sent without thinking and bringing him all those boxes from japan making him flush.

he puts a mental hand over his heart to calm it from jumping out of his ribcage into your hands.

gods above, the effect that you have on him with every little gesture, all of them flying blissfully over your head. that’s one thing he can thank the gods for, at least.

you hand him the stack, tucking a stray curl of hair behind your ear. “a token of appreciation for all your troubles, kageyama.”

and because he was feeling a little bold, he jokes, “are you the same y/n who turned up at my door a month ago?”

“oh, you’re one to speak,” you roll your eyes, the corners of your lips twitching in a small smile. “there are two wolves in me, okay? one is batshit nuts, you know her, the one you see on court. the other one is me, and you drew the short stick today.”

kageyama knows he’s nowhere close to getting over you with the way the smallest hint of a smile from you sends his heart skittering, the way he is offering up everything he has to the role he has been asked to play so that you might shine freely once again, not for him but for you.

despite the stamped out selfish hope that maybe, maybe you might fall for him this time, he earnestly wants to weather the passing storm by your side, so you might walk out to clear blue skies, cloudless and unburdened. so you might smile freely once more, even if it's not meant for him.

“wanna come in? i’m making pasta for dinner.” he holds up the bag of groceries he picked up from the corner shop on the way home.

you hesitate, not unwillingly, more so from not wanting to intrude on his personal space. “you don’t have to—”

“you’ve already shown up unannounced once, what’s another?”

you flush with embarrassment at the thought of that time. not your brightest moment. “gods, will you ever let me live that down? i really don’t want to be a bother.”

“c’mon, you’re not. promise.” he gestures for you to enter his apartment.

you lean against his counter awkwardly as you watch him lay out the ingredients, prepping the table surface to actually make pasta from scratch. he notes the surprise on your face.

“i actually can’t cook very well, but making pasta is surprisingly therapeutic.” kageyama explains while he measures out the flour and salt, making a well in the center of the mixture to crack the eggs in. he whisks the eggs before slowly stirring in the flour mixture methodically.

“wanna try?” he offers after seeing the entranced look in your eyes. you nod, scrubbing your hands with soap before taking over the kneading of the pasta dough from kageyama.

he watches you quietly as you poke the tip of your tongue out the side, attention completely focused on folding and pressing the dough and repeating the motion, taking note of the downward turn of the corners of your eyes, the haunted look in your eyes when you forget to hide it.

your hand waving in his face breaks him out of his thoughts. “kageyama?”

“what happened to your formalities?” he blurts. where is the line between us?

you give him a questioning look.

he corrects himself, “i’m kageyama-san to you, and you’re kuroo-san to me, remember?”

“oh, that. i’m not kuroo-san anymore. we finalized our divorce before i moved here. if you prefer that, i can go back to calling you kageyama-san.” you brush your divorce off as if it is ancient history, as if it doesn’t leave an emptiness in your chest where you used to feel love for him.

“i’m sorry to hear that.” he shouldn’t have asked. for various reasons not limited to the way the hope in him perks its head up at the confirmation that kuroo is out of your life for good.

“it’s fine, it’s been coming, i just chose to look the other way.” you squint at the dough, suddenly kneading it with more force, your previous child-like delight now gone at the mention of your failed marriage.

kageyama really shouldn’t have asked. he hates to be the one who took away your fun and soured your mood with that question. that you still look devastatingly beautiful despite the sorrow etched in your soul.

“you can call me tobio. since we are friends outside of work now.” he hopes that his hair is covering the warm tips of his ears.

“sure,” you shrug, “you know you’re the only one who called me that or oumae-san anyway, right? old man.”

“oh wow, going right to insulting me. is this your other wolf appearing?” he shoots back drily as he nudges you out of the way. “go put something on the tv, we need to rest the dough for twenty minutes.”

your clear and bright laughter fills his apartment as you back out of the kitchen, hands up in surrender, a sparkle in your eyes and that smile appearing on your lips, chasing away the darkness.

he thinks this may not be as hard as he thought after all, playful banters with you. anything to chase away your ghosts.

and suddenly the one-bedroom apartment feels like home to kageyama tobio.

months slip by, summer’s warmth finally giving way to crunchy leaves beneath your feet and cool breezes caressing your skin softly with a lover’s touch.

kageyama tobio and you are nothing if not creatures of routine, taking turns at your apartments during the weekdays to make dinner since it’s so much easier to make dinner for two than one and significantly time-saving to not have to go through the twenty steps of cooking by yourself every day.

though you find yourself at his apartment more than yours, his skillful hands diligently prepping ingredients, slicing them with precision, following the recipe methodically with you as his assistant (who lounges at kitchen island a little too much, head on hand, watching him work, because gods, his hands, larger than your own, fingers unbelievably slender and elegant despite all the training he puts them through. you are envious of them, and just a tad obsessed.)

tobio would catch you staring sometimes, and you would look away, pretend to be unfazed, ignoring the blood racing through your veins. gods really do have a favorite.

you grew to enjoy his company, so unlike the quiet solitude of home that you were used to. his dry humor and his quiet steady presence. his cooking, really. you wonder what his fans would make of that, since he had once admitted to being a bad cook in an interview that lives on somewhere on the internet.

perhaps that precision of his is the reason the food he makes tastes so sinfully delicious on your tongue.

you had felt restless at first, unused to having so much time on your hands after being used to spending most of your own free time for more practice, more work, since kuroo was rarely home before the late hours of the night.

it never quite felt like home without him in that ninety-five square meter apartment—larger than most middle class homes yet so devoid of life and love that makes somewhere home. the luxury that you were able to afford given the size of your paychecks was never quite put to good use in those two years of your marriage.

“i’m feeling like some gelato today, want some?”

kageyama joins you out on the balcony, wiping his wet hands on the black cat apron you bought for him on a whim—a gift. it reminded you of his image in most people’s minds, a hissy and fussy cat who hates people, and to be honest (and maybe a little biased), you do enjoy that side of him.

it’s endearing, especially since you’re one of the few special humans that the picky cat likes. he really does act like a cat.

he had moved to italy a year before you, and being more familiar with the local culture, quickly became your go-to person to help you navigate the everyday life responsibilities from setting up your internet to the oddly laxed city disposal system. or the unlucky time your air conditioning stopped working in the peak of summer, barely weeks into your new apartment, your broken italian barely any help as you attempt to call a technician.

you remember having to resort to knocking on his door with a sheepish smile, rambling about the bind you were in and asking him if he could talk to the technician on your behalf. he had nodded, taking the phone from you and speaking into it, italian rough but so much more fluent than yours. his usually deep solemn voice just half a pitch higher and more expressive.

his unresponsiveness had you twiddling your thumbs in nervousness as he padded into your apartment, still on the phone and with you following closely, and proceeded to slam a fist into the side of the air conditioning unit before turning it back on.

the unit sputtered to life and you sighed in relief. “oh thank the gods.”

“the technician said he’ll stop by tomorrow in the evening because he has other calls to attend to from the unusually hot weather. i’ll be back from practice by then.”

“thank you, tobio.” you had smiled at him gratefully. you hated having to rely on other people for help with things that you should be able to do on your own, so accustomed to being hyperindependent, but tobio makes it easy to come to him for help. mostly due to the fact that he never makes you feel bad about asking for help, even though you do still feel bad about bothering him with all the stupid everyday life problems.

you had somehow wormed your way into his life and he had graciously allowed you to stay beyond all the times that you needed his help, steadily and unknowingly becoming your dearest friend.

you hum in response, giving gelato another thought since the air is turning chilly as the sun dips lower over the horizon, dusk creeping closer by the minute. “sure, why not?”

now, walking through the streets of rome at dusk in the cool autumnal weather for gelato was not what you expected when you agreed to it. you had expected smooth cold gelato melting on your tongue in the comfort and warmth of tobio’s apartment. not this.

goosebumps scattered across your skin under your sweater, teeth chattering slightly thanks to the cold dessert dropping your body heat further. your stubborn ass had rejected tobio’s offer of a jacket at the door, thinking your sweater would be warm enough for the autumn breezes.

apparently not if you’re eating gelato.

you didn’t have the heart to tell him no after finding out that the little trip would entail trekking fifteen minutes into the city and then back, with gelato, on a cool autumn night.

tobio has a way of making you go along with his whims without even trying.

you let out another shiver, cold fingers gripping the paper cup. he stifles his low chuckle by stuffing another spoonful of gelato in his mouth.

“what?” you narrow your eyes at the man, challenging him to say it. i told you so.

he shrugs, licking his spoon clean.

you look away from him, shoving the last mouthful of gelato between your cold cheeks and dumping the paper cup and spoon into a trashcan as you pass by.

a heavy warmth settles over your shoulders as you stick your hands into your pockets, surprise lining your eyes for a few seconds before realization sets in that tobio is draping his jacket over your shoulders.

tobio, who’s always known what you needed when you needed it. tobio, who’s always done it without guilt tripping you, no ‘i told you so’s or ‘you should have listened to me’s. tobio, who welcomed you into his life and stayed without asking for anything in return, his warm and steady presence providing you comfort just from knowing that he is right next to you.

the light brushes against your elbows when you work in the kitchen, arriving just as you space out a little too much while waiting for the onions to cook or staring out the window, the task before you forgotten. the gentle touches that grounds you back to reality, a quiet reminder that you are not alone.

you wonder if he knows how he makes you feel at ease, at home, and sometimes, when you catch a soft knowing smile on his lips at your boisterous laughter, you wonder if he is doing it with intention.

what kind of heroic deeds did you do in your past life to earn the favor of the gods?

you spin around to face him, only to have him take a step back as a biker zooms by, hands gripping your shoulders, pushing you away from the hazard, his back towards the open street. he glances back at the rider who is long gone, frowning at their carelessness.

his cheeks are pink from the cold, navy eyes sweeping over you to check that you’re fine.

“are you cold?” you ask him, hands already moving to return the jacket to its owner.

“no, keep it.”

you nod your thanks and pull your arms through the sleeves. your silhouette drowns in his already oversized jacket. the remnants of his warmth and the thickness of his jacket keep you warm the entire way home, just as it always does.

tobio shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of your apartments, towards home. tobio, who had teased you and laughed with you, sat with you in silence and talked to you over dinner, walked with you on that rocky path back towards the light.

somewhere deep inside you, the smallest bud springs to life on a barren branch, hope, quiet and unsure, stirs in its dormancy.

the lines between you and kageyama tobio keep rewriting themselves.

lines that were blurred and redrawn, over and over until the first lines were unrecognizable. it feels like drawing lines on sand, only to have waves wiping the slate clean, leaving you to hastily put down some semblance of a line.

as if the gods are laughing in your face, telling you that you are wrong and to try again.

so you threw the stick away.

it was not a conscious decision, not at first. you had just accidentally let it slip, the thing that kept you up at night, the whispers that only quieted at the sight of the midnight skies. the endless expanse of it and the deep blue hues stretching as far as the eye could see, occasionally broken up by wafts of clouds floating through.

lighter than the dark skies of your hometown in rural japan where there was less light pollution from the sparse street lights dotting the farmlands. but it was the same skies, same stars light years away from earth that your obaasan taught you to navigate with if you ever got lost in the forest behind your home.

the home you left behind to chase after your dreams in the city, and with it, your grandmother. the home you left again once more to outrun your bad decisions.

tobio, to his credit, had listened intently to you on his balcony that night, both of you sitting cross-legged with your backs against the door, elbows grazing lightly, and assured you that your fears were in fact, not stupid.

maybe it’s his comforting presence, or the way he ponders over the secrets you handed to him without judgment, but you seem to spill at the seams when he is around, unafraid to bare your soul to your—kindred spirit. maybe it’s the words that fall from his lips meant only for you, roughly thrown together, not without care, merely earnest and unembellished, sincerity clear in his focused gaze.

though certainly, bringing up one of your deepest fears in the middle of a farmer’s market was the last thing on your mind, and tobio’s, you are sure. yet here you are, words pouring out from your heart at the sight of flowers, one of the last hurdles that still sticks tall.

“do you think one day i won’t be broken anymore?” you gently thumb the soft petal of an amaryllis, feeling the ever so slight give under the pad of your thumb grounding you from the pain that your memories brought to the surface.

tobio frowns at your words—he hates them. “you’re not broken.” if you were not in public, with people weaving around the different stalls, he might have tried to shake some sense into you, literally.

oh, if only he knew. your heart twists, hand dropping to your side, flower forgotten. “he was in love with the idea of me. with an olympic setter as his wife, the trophy to his jva corner office. and i was too blind to see it, even tricked myself into thinking that i was in love, when really all along, we were just in pain.”

you point at where your heart resides, finger digging into the soft flesh cushioning your sternum. “in here. i’m irreversibly broken deep in here. some part of me that rots in the darkness, never able to see the light of day. despite having fallen out of love with him months ago, stopped expecting anything from him, i fear that i’m still broken, tobio.”

the tip of your index finger—and nail—turning white with the amount of force you’re prodding yourself with. as if you wished you could pluck the beating broken but healing organ out of your chest and replace it with an undamaged one. nothing but a strangled mess of scarred tissue growing over old wounds that bleed with ease, too much ease. still fucking broken.

“you are more than that. more than that wounded part of yourself that you’re healing. you’re not broken.” he deftly draws your hand away from yourself, holding it because he wanted to, drawing circles into the back of your hand to remind you that you are not alone. the crowd melts away, leaving the two of you in your bubble of imagined intimacy. “you’re not broken.”

“i can’t even look at my favorite flowers without being reminded of the times he would buy them as a late apology and a rain check he never made up for. and i would wonder if there’s something wrong with me, some explanation as to why having a husband is no more different than not having one.” you blink rapidly, fingers tightening on his hand as if he could keep the helplessness at bay that way. “some reason as to why it felt more like living with a stranger i love under the same roof in that last year. he just had something to prove and i just wanted him to love me.”

“when you find the right person, they will love you the way you deserve to be loved, with everything they have. they will make sure you never doubt yourself ever again.” tobio pins you with a determined stare, the words weighing heavy on his heart, knowing that he might have you to himself in this very moment, but not forever. not forever.

does he have to watch you fall in love this time? gods, they really have it out for him. would he even survive it this time?

you falter, hand around his slacking in defeat. “you don’t know that.”

you cannot fathom anyone choosing to love you, with all the jagged edges and uncertainty.

“i know that you deserve more than him, so don’t settle for anything less than you do. trust that the right person will come along.” he says it with so much conviction that you could have mistaken him for one of the gods that chart your destiny.

you wanted to ask him why—why he seems to believe that with his whole heart despite yourself—but the brush on your sleeve from a passing shopper breaks you out of the imaginary depths of your fears, shattering the illusion of privacy.

what had gotten into you today?

you recover from your momentary meltdown in public, instincts to guard and deflect kicking in among the many ears that could be listening to a conversation that should have been kept behind closed doors. “are you speaking from experience?”

“never been in a relationship, actually.” he smiles a wistful smile at you, deciding to release his hold on your hand—as if he himself also just remembered that you are in the public eye.

“huh, i would have thought otherwise.”

tobio rolls his eyes playfully at your teasing. “don’t even start, i know i’m not good with words.”

“no, really. it’s a wonder you haven’t been snatched up by anyone yet.”

“now you're just flattering me because you want me to make the carbonara pasta that you’ve been begging me to make for the past week.”

you gape at him, in disbelief that he would use that against you when you are doing nothing but giving him a sincere compliment.

“i’m being real here. whoever you choose to love would be lucky to have you. and if they don’t feel that way, it’s their loss, really.” you gesture with an outsplayed hand, turning back to the selection of flowers, wandering down the row of autumnal varieties.

tobio presses two fingers to his temple, sighing as he mutters under his breath, exasperated words a soft whisper on the breeze, “too bad she’s too dense to realize it.”

he panics a little at the thought of you picking his words up as you turn around with your head tipped to the side in confusion, “what did you say?”

“nothing, just that the amaryllis is pretty. you should get it.” he blurts, just happy that his muddled brain was able to come with something on the spot. never mind that he just name dropped a flower, one of many that he learnt because you once loved them, still do, it seems, just tainted by your past.

you shake your head at him, already looking forward. “it’s alright, let’s go look at the other stalls.” moving on from the remnants of a relationship you moved to italy to outrun, and leaving them behind.

“wait,” a sudden thought pops into tobio’s mind, and he decides to do it without letting himself overthink it. before he loses his courage.

you watch quietly as he picks out a stalk of carnation, a dusty pink that lightens slightly towards the tip of the petal and hands it to the shopkeeper, exchanging a few words before paying and returning with a very short stem.

“i know you still love flowers even though they are tainted by your past,” tobio swallows, hoping he does not fuck this up like he always seem to with his words, “but i want you to know that you deserve flowers just because. it doesn’t have to be an apology, or a special occasion. you deserve them just because you like them, simple as that.”

he takes a step closer to you, watching you carefully for any hints of discomfort or anguish that you might try to hide from him for his sake—hoping that you are comfortable around him enough not to.

you find yourself holding in your breath as you meet his eyes, mesmerized by the blue of his irises up close, warm cobalt shades dancing in the light, as if they were welcoming you, reminiscent of the night skies that fall after dusk, the same navy hues that lull you to safety.

he tucks your hair behind your ear, his touch featherlike as he slips the carnation over the crest of your ear. “there. one day the first thought that crosses your mind when you see them will not be of him, but of how pretty they are again.”

a blink. “thank you.” the words are choked, as a wave of emotions envelop you whole. you throw your arms around him haphazardly, hugging him tightly with your eyes squeezed shut for fear of your tear ducts betraying you, leaning on him for balance with your weight on the tip of your toes because of his height.

you yield to his warmth, comforted by his arms sliding into place around you, the familiarity tugging on a memory that you cannot seem to recover, a nagging feeling of something you forgot as seconds tick by.

“thank you, tobio.” you say it again, releasing him shyly when you realize that you held on for moments too long, brushing at your eyes with the back of your hand for any stray tears, chuckling lightly at how emotional you are being.

somehow it feels as if a weight has been lifted off your chest after hearing his words.

“you are loved, y/n, by your family and friends, and your fans. you are the setter who will dethrone kageyama tobio’s rule of the court, remember?”

you recognize the quote from one of the japanese magazines that you and tobio managed to get a hold of. it makes you laugh—the type that sends tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, leaving you breathless and light and feeling like everything will be alright—and you smile at him.

it feels strangely like coming home after a long day.

there is a twinkle in your eyes, the return of your genuine self as you ask, “and what of kageyama tobio?”

your smile hits him like the first ray of warm sunlight when snow melts away to reveal the tiny buds sprouting at the nodes of tree branches, that first truly warm day after winter when you know that spring is here. and just like the trees that have weathered the cold season, you are shaking off the cold in your bones, ready to bloom again.

that pureness in your smile—the invisible pull that drew him into your orbit almost three years ago now emerging reforged.

gods, you are nothing short of devastating. he knows he will never be able to love anyone else like he loves you, describing it as intense does not do it justice. try all-encompassing and consuming, leaving him defenseless and dazed and wanting more.

is that wrong of him to feel that way? that if given a choice by the gods to do it all over again, he would still choose to love you? that there is nothing he would not do, no hell he would not descend, no winter he would not weather, just to see you smile at him unadulterated?

“he believes that you are the queen of the court.”

your smile does not falter. it deepens, reaching your eyes, curving them into joyful crescents that send his heart thundering at an inhuman pace.

“thank you for being here. i am beginning to realize what it means to live.” you make me want to live. the unspoken words hanging in space between you.

for the first time in a very long time, tobio finds himself praying to the gods that have long abandoned him. he can only hope that they are listening.

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity (gen) @mintgrumpy @noble-17 @box-of-roses (tobio nation) @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone (add yourself here)

a/n. i sprinkled lots of little details in this one hehehe (like how it is apartment to tobio before it becomes a home) how many did you find? *giggles while plotting* it's fluffier than i intended so i hope you enjoyed <33

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kageyama #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama angst #kageyama fic #hq #kageyama tobio angst #kageyama x you #kageyama x y/n #hiraethwa writes #《 to be loved is to be known 》

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ilylovelyz · 1 year ago

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haikyuu boys when protective of you

most likely gets into a fight, does throw the first punch, and dramatically whines afterwards, forcing you to be his personal nurse ATSUMU, TANAKA, nishinoya, terushima, IWAIZUMI, hoshiumi

so insulting and almost degrading to whoever is threatening you that the offender ends up leaving out of embarrassment TSUKISHIMA, shirabu, KUROO, kenma, sugawara, daishou, akira, SUNA, kageyama, ushijima, futakuchi, hanamaki

YOU'RE the one who is protecting them SAKUSA, hachi, bokuto, YAMAGUCHI, GOSHIKI, asahi, tendo, AONE, oikawa (somehow), koganegawa, LEV

does his best to diffuse the situation, but ultimately leaves angry and mentally hexes them KIYOKO, akaashi, KITA, DAICHI, hinata, yaku, hirugami

spends the night in jail KENTARO, semi, yamamoto, mattsun, OSAMU

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tulip-room · 4 months ago

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﹄▹Funny Thing◃﹃

if you had stuck around...

pairing. Kageyama x Reader

content. maybe if he had been selfish he wouldn't have missed you so bad. maybe if he had been selfish, he would have you.

words. 4.7k

warnings. ANGST. Had Mr. Loverman on repeat while writing this so that is a warning itself. friends -> something a little more -> something a little less

a/n: blame my fyp for this song popping up constantly. Also please yell at me and tell me your opinions. I feed off of the reactions hehe

You were his first love, he thought he might’ve been yours too. That’s the funny thing with thoughts though, our minds have ways of tricking us into believing what we want to believe. No matter what the truth might really be.

“Tobio!” You wave excitedly when you see him and race over to meet him, you almost trip over your feet but catch yourself.

“Don’t run that fast, you’ll trip and fall on your face like an idiot.” You roll your eyes at him and hit his arm lightly.

“How charming,” you deadpanned. “We both know you would catch me.” You tease and start going on about something. He wants to be a good friend and say he was listening but all he can think about is your words. Can you catch someone when you’re already falling yourself? Would you catch him if you knew he was falling? His eyes scanned over your face, analyzing it. The way your lips form words, how they look shiny. Did you get a new lip gloss? Was it a flavored one?

He nodded his head along as you talked, he always paid attention to details of things he cared about. You were near the top of that list. He cared about you more than he wanted to admit. Not everything needed to be spoken into words though, his hand would go over edges so you didn’t hit your head coming back up from grabbing something. How he would smile slightly at glitter pens because you always had one in your bag and it made him think of you. How he would get two drinks instead of one at the vending machine two times a week because you walked home with him on Wednesdays and Fridays. How he had extra chapstick in his bag because you would apply coat after coat when you were anxious about something and complain that you didn’t have anymore. It didn’t take effort to fall in love with you, all it had taken was you.

There were many ways he could show that he loved you, ways he wasn’t aware of. Ways he was made aware of when he did them and didn’t have anyone to do them for anymore. The hair ties in the small pouch on his bag were unused because you weren’t there to use them anymore. How he would still hang back after practice on Wednesdays and Fridays before realizing that you weren’t there to walk with him anymore. It was silly, he knows. But even though you had moved he still felt like you were with him everywhere, because everything reminded him of you.

The text messages were far and few between now. He couldn’t help his excitement when his phone buzzed on the table and he hoped it was you. He also couldn’t hide his disappointment when it wasn’t you. He liked to rationalize that you were both just busy, which was true. That you had a habit of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ he did too. You just were never out of his mind.

He still has the photo of both of you at graduation on his bedside table. He remembers how he felt when you told him you got offered a job on the other side of the world. He remembers how the breeze had felt, it was a summer day. The crickets chirping, the leaves rustling. You looked as perfect as he always thought you did. He wanted to tell you right there that he was in love with you. That you were an idiot for not noticing sooner that he was hopelessly infatuated with you. But, you were quicker.

You pulled Kageyama off to the side after the small party the club had put on. The two of you outside, the sun setting in the background. The pages ending on this chapter of your life. You practically hummed with excitement. It was infectious and he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips to see you so happy. “I have something to tell you,” you had whispered it but the lilt of your voice made it clear that it wasn’t really that much of a secret.

“Me too,” he could already feel his hands getting clammy. His mouth suddenly felt drier than it had moments prior and he felt cold. Was this how it always felt when you were going to confess to the person you had been in love with for the last three years?

“Me first?” He nodded his head, he couldn’t put an end to your excitement. The words that came out of your mouth next though made him wish he had gone first. He felt the chill that raked over his body, how his heart felt like it had dropped. His chest tightened and his throat itched. His eyes filled with tears but he could excuse them for happy tears if he tried hard enough. “I got an offer to manage a team overseas. The pay is really good and,” your voice trailed off in his ears.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything else. You were leaving. He missed his chance to have you, you were going somewhere far away from him. Overseas. Not a five minute walk down the road like you currently were, no more banging on your door to make sure you got up for school. Well, there wouldn’t be anymore of that anyway he reasoned. No more seeing you everyday, no more walking home together twice a week. No more chapstick in his bag, no more hair ties that would find themselves around his wrist, but most importantly. No more you.

“..io? Tobio?” You waved your hand in front of his face and it snapped him out of whatever daze he was in. You still looked so happy, your eyes practically shining. He always had loved your eyes, saying what you couldn’t.

He could feel the tears rolling down his cheek now, warm and wet. Making streaks on his cheek but he forced a smile to his face. “That’s great,” his voice cracked but you didn’t comment. It was really great for you. He was being a bad friend for not being happy for you. He was being selfish for crying over not having you anymore. Did he ever have you to begin with though?

“What did you want to tell me?” He shook his head and waved you off.

“I’m going pro,” he made the excuse up on the spot. It wasn’t a lie that he was going pro. It just wasn’t what he really wanted to tell you. For all his selfishness though, he couldn’t tell you he loved you when you were going to leave. He couldn’t see how your face would drop, how you would fidget with your hands and put chapstick on. Tell him you could work something out. He didn’t want to hold you back. He would never hold you back, so because he loves you he was going to let you go.

“Is there a reason you are standing by the door?” One of his teammates had asked one Wednesday afternoon. He nodded before shaking his head no.

“No, sorry.” He didn’t have a reason to wait by the door anymore, you weren’t coming. You were somewhere else, probably asleep while he was here. Waiting for you. It was like that for the first month he had practice since you were gone. For a month like clockwork he would get two drinks from the vending machine and wait by the door of the gym every Wednesday and Friday, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. He hadn’t realized at first just how much he was going to miss you.

Miss your voice, your smile, your teasing comments. How much he was going to miss being around you. There was one day he texted asking where you were because he was waiting. When you didn’t immediately respond he remembered that you weren’t there anymore. He sent a quick apology and shoved the device back into his pocket. He looked down at the two drinks in his hand and sighed. He needed to stop doing this. He needed to stop missing you so much.

There were days he would go through his photo gallery just so he could look at your face again. Remembering every detail. Wondering if you had changed much since he last saw you. There was a picture from the second week of school, you had forced him to take it.

“We have to commemorate the occasion! Come on! Smile!” He had begrudgingly smiled and leaned down a little bit to get into frame. You lifted your arm up and let out a small laugh at his face, he looked at you questioningly but you just shook your head. “Okay, 1..2..3!” Your finger pressing on the button and taking the photo. It hadn’t been a particularly memorable moment. Nothing special about the interaction except that it had been with you. Everything that had you in it was special to him.

The shirt you got him for his birthday was still hanging up in his closet. You hadn’t been able to catch a flight home, he understood. You had called him at midnight (his time) to tell him happy birthday and then texted him again when it was midnight in your time. He had told you how silly it was but you had rebutted that you were just wishing him a happy birthday.

“You already told me happy birthday idiot.” He huffed into the phone, you weren’t expecting him to call you but you can’t say it wasn’t a welcomed surprise.

“Yeah? And? I’m saying it again.”

“And I’m telling you that it’s stupid.”

“I told you happy birthday, what’s stupid about that.” It was clear to him now that you weren’t going to listen. Although, it should’ve been clear to him from the start that you wouldn’t listen. Once you had set your mind to something you were going to do it. Even if it meant staying up to all hours of the day just so your best friend could get birthday wishes twice over.

You weren’t able to visit very often, mentioning how it would always hurt again when you left. That you would always miss home. Part of him wondered if you missed him. Everytime he sends you off at the airport all he can see is the first time he did it.

He wonders if you ever think of your promises as often as he thinks of them.

“We should live together after high school,” it was mentioned offhandedly as the two of you walked home one Friday. He hummed in response but kept quiet for a moment. “It’d be much cheaper than trying to live on our own.”

“Like I would want to live with you,” he has teased.

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes. “You love me.” You smiled back at him and it took everything in him at that moment not to tell you yes, I do love you thanks for finally noticing. He bit back the words.

“So, where are we living?”

“Tokyo, I do love the city.”

“Okay.” He complied easily and it wasn’t mentioned later when he sent you a link to an apartment in Tokyo for two. It wasn’t mentioned when you loved the message and sent him one back.

He passes by the complex sometimes on his morning runs. Someone else had understandably taken up living in that apartment. The apartment you had sent was still available though, like it was waiting for you to come back like he was. He stops every morning and looks at the windows. He can almost see with picture perfect clarity what living with you would’ve looked like.

He can see the little cat sitting in the window, he can see the posters decorating every room. He can hear your laughter as you clean. Can see you dance while he cooks with you, can feel you put your hand on his shoulder to reach something. He can see the things that could’ve been, the things that should’ve been. He doesn’t have many regrets in life but he thinks this is one. He shouldn’t have let you go in that airport. Shouldn’t have stood there and watched you walk away from everything, from him.

He stands there everyday for fifteen minutes. And then, like clockwork after fifteen minutes he goes back to running and pretends like he hadn’t just imagined a whole life with you that had been at the tips of his fingers. The day someone moves into the apartment he stands there for twenty minutes. He watches the movers placing boxes down, watches as the young couple smiles and talks happily while hanging up posters. Watch as their cat jumps onto the window sill. Watch them live the life he wanted for himself. A life with you.

It had been an early flight because you wanted to sleep on the plane. You didn’t want to go alone so he had gotten up to go with you. He helped you with your bags, and had taken you to a cafe right by the airport to get some breakfast.

“Thank you for doing this Tobio.” He nodded, not yet awake enough to have this conversation. Not trusting that he wouldn’t say something stupid. Something selfish.

The two of you sat under the buzzing lights of the cafe, the store almost completely empty. They had just opened up and he was grateful because he’s not sure he would be able to have this moment if there were more people. If he could be as brave as he was being now. “Are you excited?”

“And nervous. What if I’m not doing the right thing by leaving? What if I fall and can’t get back up?”

“You’ll be fine.” He took a bite of his muffin, hoping to choke down the don’t go he could feel scratching its way up his throat. He watched with careful eyes as you pulled out chapstick and applied it. “If you fall I’ll be there to help you back up, don’t say such stupid things. I’ll always be here.” Maybe he could hope there was part of you that took his words for a deeper meaning. He would always be here, but you wouldn’t. He turned his head to look out the window at your table. The sun was just peeking its head over the horizon, just rising on this new chapter of your lives. A chapter without each other.

“I’ll be here too…if you need me.” How was he supposed to tell you that he would always need you. That he needed you here with him, not off out there thousands of miles away. Because the fact was that you weren’t always going to be there. Be here. He couldn’t hold it against you. He could never.

“We have to go,” he says abruptly and stands up from the table. You nod your head in silence and stand up, you wipe your hands on your pants and clear your throat. The two of you walk out of the cafe in silence, bags over shoulders and somberness taking over the moment. You going off was supposed to be exciting but how exciting could it be for him to lose someone he cared about so much.

When you reached the airport he pulled you into a hug, he wasn’t the most affectionate person but today he would make an exception. He hugged you because what he really wanted to do was hold your face and kiss you. Beg you not to leave, to stay here. To stay with him. His heart yearned to keep you for himself. That maybe you didn’t want to go, maybe he could talk you out of it. If he could be selfish this one time that maybe he could be yours and you his.

He liked to think that part of you wanted him to be selfish. That you wanted him to tell you not to leave, to ask you to stay. To say you were making a horrible decision. To tell you he would miss your walks home, your complaints about chapstick, that he would miss buying two drinks at the vending machine, that he would miss the way you said his name. How excited you always looked to see him. That he would miss you. But he wasn’t that selfish. He just hugged you close to him until you had to go, the two of you standing in silence of the surprisingly crowded airport.

“Goodbye Tobio, take care of yourself.” Your voice hitched and he swears he could see tears in your eyes as you pulled away from his embrace. From him.

“Goodbye Y/N, I’ll take care of myself if you do too.” He hated how this moment should be happy, this moment where you were going to live your life. Be happy. Be happy. Be happy, he repeated to himself over and over and over as he watched your figure retreat from his view. He’s not sure how long he stayed in that airport for, at least until the sun was high in the sky, all of a sudden. He had blinked and you were gone. He did however learn that he hates airports. And he wishes he could be more selfish.

He went home that day and hid under his blankets. He pulled them over his head and he laid against the cold wall. The tears wouldn’t even fall from his eyes, they were stuck. He was stuck. He should be happy. He tries to remind himself. But how could he be? How could he possibly be happy when it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. How could he be happy when he had to watch the person he loved walk away from him, away from everything that they said they were going to do. It was silly to promise to always be together, just like it was silly of him to imagine a life where you hadn’t left.

He would sometimes still find himself picturing it. If he had been selfish in that airport. What would have happened? Would you have smiled and told him he was an idiot for not telling you sooner? Would you have cried and told him that you were still leaving, that you had to leave. He likes to think you would stay. He could see it so clearly, like it was something that was in his grasp. That he could touch it.

Everything would be the same only when you pulled away to tell him goodbye he wouldn’t tell you goodbye. He would hold you tighter and ask you to stay. To stay for him, to stay because he would miss you, to stay because he loved you, because he thinks about a life where you’re not there and he can’t see a happy one. He asks you to stay because you’re needed here, because he needs you. He reminds you of your promises, promises to stay with him. How you would smile and tell him he's silly, how you would kiss him.

Replies from you take weeks sometimes, he knows it’s not on purpose. That you’ll see messages and not have the energy to respond right away and then forget to respond all together. He keeps trying though. Keeps hoping that maybe if he keeps talking to you that it’ll be like you never left.

He stops hoping when you don’t call at midnight to wish him happy birthday. When you only send him one text message at a random time telling him you got busy and you were so sorry you hadn’t had time to respond. You promise to do better when you find the time and tell him you hope he has a happy birthday.

He’s not entirely sure why he fell in love. All he really knows is one day you stopped feeling like everyone else and started feeling like you were his whole world. You hadn’t even done anything particularly attractive by societal standards. One moment you were rambling about your favorite show and explaining the ending to him and the next his breath was getting caught in his throat.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the day, the weather was dull and unexciting. Filled with grey clouds but no rain. No sun, it hadn’t even been particularly windy or hot. He does remember feeling a chill but that didn’t have anything to do with the weather. One minute he was drinking yogurt and the next his eyes were widening and his cheeks were growing warm.

You had put your hand on his arm as you were getting to a big part of the plot. He looked down at your hand, how warm his sleeve now felt because of the touch. How cold his hands were becoming. Why did he feel so warm? Why did you look so pretty? Wait, what? Pretty? He had never thought about you like that before. Now that he was looking at you now though he had to agree. You were utterly sparkling. There never was anything quite like watching someone talk about something they loved.

“Oh, sorry. I was rambling.” You pull your hand away with a shy smile. He wanted to put it back where it was. Wanted to feel you again but he just shook his head.

“It’s okay, I liked it.” Your face lit up and he knew then and there that what he was feeling was love. He was in love with you. He would do anything to keep you smiling like that, keep you smiling at him. Maybe he should’ve told you at that moment. Maybe if he had, things would be much more different than how they currently were.

You wouldn’t be on the other side of the world and he wouldn’t stop at an apartment to think about what he missed out on.

He never did quite have the courage to tell you how he felt. There were plenty of messages he had typed. Many words dying at the tip of his tongue. Whenever you asked him what was wrong because he had gone quiet for too long he almost let the words tumble from his lips. The words fought at the back of his throat and tried to pry their way through tightened lips.

“Tobio?” You hummed on the other end of the phone. He had been quiet for a few minutes and you thought maybe he had fallen asleep. “Are you okay? Did you fall asleep?”

“I’m okay,” he said. What he had really wanted to say was. I miss you, when are you coming home? When are you coming back to me? I love you so much that I can’t think about anything but you. You’re always on my mind. I think about what would’ve happened in the airport if I had kissed you. Would you have let me kiss you? Please, let me kiss you. I need to hold you again. I miss you, I miss you so much. What he said instead was. “That apartment got rented.”

“The one by the train station?” You had remembered. The apartment by the train station with the pink walls from the previous tenants. The apartment with the window seat with a perfect place to put some plants in the window sill. The apartment you had pictured getting with him, where your cat would run around and pull at strings on your new couch. Where the cabinets would get squeaky from how many times you would open and close them because you forgot what you were looking for. The apartment that was fifteen minutes away from the gym where he would be going everyday to play with his team.

“Yeah, that one. Some couple bought it, they have a cat.” A couple that I pictured was us. That I pictured it was our cat sitting on the window sill. In our apartment.

“I hope they’re happy.” We could’ve been happy if I was braver. He just hums in agreement. “It’s late, I have to be there early. I paid to take some extra classes.” He wishes you would just come home. He wants to tell you everything, can feel the love bubbling up. Can feel it slowly creep its way past his lips.

“I,” he catches it before it goes too far and clears his throat. “I hope you enjoy them. Maybe you’ll gain some brain cells.” You laugh at the joke and if he closes his eyes it’s almost like you’re there again.

“I’m not the one who needs brain cells, you are.” You let out another stifled laugh and he can feel a warm tear roll down his cheek. He wonders if you cry when you call him, if you miss him as much as he misses you. “Goodnight Tobio.”

“Goodnight.” I love you.

He doesn’t see you again until the Olympics. He’s sent you a few messages but both of you are busy in preparation. That doesn’t stop him from freezing when he sees you though. You look as beautiful as the day you left. His breath catches in his throat. Your hair is pulled into a ponytail, he briefly wonders if one of the other players carries extras for you like he did (does). When you turn your head and see him he almost falls to his knees. You’re smiling at him.

On slightly unsteady legs he makes his way over to you as you wave him over. “Tobio!” You call and he sincerely wishes he had been braver years ago. He’s missed this so much, missed you so much.

“Y/N, how are you?” I miss you.

“Good. Got all my certifications now to be a trainer.” I grew apart from you.

“That’s amazing.” Why couldn’t you have grown with me? Why couldn’t you have stayed?

“Hey, let’s catch up later, yeah? The team and I are a little jet lagged.” I have to leave again. I’m not here for you.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Just like the airport, he watches you walk away again. He doesn’t catch the glint of metal on your ring finger, nor the loving look you send one of the players. He just watches as you walk away from him again. If only he had been braver.

It’s after the second day that the two of you finally have time to see each other again. You find him in the cafeteria and sit down across from him. “Tobio! Let’s catch up?”

“Sure, what’s been going on lately?” Why haven’t you come home yet?

“Well, I got engaged.” You hold up your hand and show off the ring to him. He feels his world shatter again. He lets out a quiet laugh to himself. How could he have been so stupid as to think that you would come back for him. That was stupid of him.

“Congrats.” Oh. That’s why you didn’t come home. He puts a hand over his mouth and another laugh slips past his lips.

“What’s so funny?” You ask and tilt your head and lean it on your palm for support. Are you laughing at me?

“I’m not laughing at you. Really. It’s just a funny situation.”

“Why?” Your voice is gentle.

“Because I really thought I was going to marry you. I would’ve if you had stuck around.” You feel your world shatter this time.

“Is that what you were going to tell me the day I told you?” What could we have had?

“Yeah, I was going to tell you I loved you.” We could’ve had an apartment near the train station. Full of posters, a couch with strings coming off from our cat scratching at it. We could’ve had squeaky cabinets from your forgetfulness. We could’ve had dancing in the kitchen while we cook together and food fights because everything is a competition. We could’ve had matching rings on our fingers. We could’ve had us.

“And the airport?” I’m sorry. We missed each other.

“I thought about kissing you. If you would’ve stayed if I had…Would you have let me kiss you?” How close was I to having everything I ever wanted? “I think I would’ve.” All you needed to do was be a little selfish.

also. In my head Y/N went to Argentina and got together with MY husband but you can picture her going anywhere

taglist. @hiraethwa

masterlist

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #tulip writes #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #tulip types #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama angst #hq angst #haikyu angst

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