#ojiro angst

[rishiguro]

53; “WAIT, YOU’RE GOING TO DIE?”

glances were exchanged as you were sitting on the bed, resisting the urge to bite your nails and instead fiddling your fingers.

you could tell how your friends grew more and more uneasy with every passing second, noticing how you were still looking for the right words, like you were afraid of how they might react. and yet you knew them well enough to be aware that, while feeling uneasy, they tried to keep an open mind, fearing that once they’d call out loud for the devil, he’d be there, right around the corner.

“thank you guys for coming,” you finally broke the ice, still fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

all of them nodded. “of course,” it was aran, who sat on the bed next to you, who replied, his lips curling upwards.

you didn’t know if he was trying to comfort you or himself.

you cracked a weak smile, briefly looking at each person in the room before looking back down. “guess i better get right to it, huh?” you mumbled, just about loud enough for everybody to hear you.

“please,” kita affirmed softly.

you opened your mouth to continue, but soon found out that no sounds could escape. you tried again and again, only to close your mouth over and over again.

just how were you supposed to say it?

you mentally groaned in frustration, clenching your fists and digging your nails into your palm.

your friends grew concerned, their eyebrows furrowing. aran leaned slightly forward, examining your carefully. “(y/n)? are you okay?” he asked.

maybe you should just rip it off, like a bandaid? or ease into it? you didn’t know.

and realistically speaking there was nothing you could do to soften the impending impact.

“i’m getting transferred” you started slowly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. you shyly looked up again with a weak smile on your lips. “out of this hospital”

immediately your friends leaned closer to you, their facial expression softening at you, tense frowns being replaced by warm and cheerful grins. “did you find some specialist?“

your heart ached at the hopeful sound of aran’s voice. did you really have to crush that hope? could you even be so cruel?

“that’s good! great even!” kita continued, an honest smile on his face.

meanwhile suna only shrugged, but you didn’t fail notice how his face lit up. “yeah! you’ll finally be able to leave this abomination of a room” he looked around the room before shrugging once more, focusing his attention to you again. “sounds like a great thing to me”

“this room does suck, yeah,” you agreed weakly, trying to ignore the weight on your shoulders, pressing you further down every second your friends celebrated the supposed good news.

“see?” atsumu grinned, no longer leaning on the wall and instead walking towards the foot of your bed. “i’m sure it’ll all be okay”

osamu agreed with his twin, playfully shoving him after catching up with him, leaning forward. “it can’t get much worse, can it?”

they sounded so hopeful. why couldn’t you sit here with good news?

you clenched your jaw. “guys—“ you started, yet found yourself unable to continue.

“can it?” osamu repeated, waiting for you to affirm him.

hope. what would they do if they found out that there wasn‘t much hope left for you?

you pressed your lips together, wishing you could just pinch yourself to wake up from this, wishing that all of this was just a dream.

and maybe it was.

osamu and atsumu exchanged another glance, as if they had to confirm that you were indeed quiet, instead of happily sharing some great news. nervously, the blonde twin spoke again. “why aren’t you saying anything?”

maybe it was a dream. but that dream turned out to be a nightmare.

next to you, aran shifted in his seat, looking at you nervously. “(y/n)? what’s going on?”

you knew you should speak up. say something, anything.

but you just couldn’t.

instead you looked at your hands, your knuckles became white as you flexed them more and more.

what were you supposed to do?

you didn’t know just how to respond. you didn’t have any good or even slightly hopeful news with no clue how to break them to your friends.

you wanted to. you needed to. but how?

the boys grew more concerned with every passing minute, especially once they noticed how aran, your best friend since you could even think, had shut down, just like you did. they looked at each other before deciding to sit down on every surface near you — next to you on your bed, on your bedside table, pulling up a chair to sit in front of you.

you could practically feel how their heart ached.

after a while, aran leaned back, his hands intertwined in his seat. he couldn’t even look at you anymore, his eyes instead focused on the floor. “you’re not being referred to some specialist, are you?”

you swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat. “no,” you whispered, shaking your head slowly.

you couldn’t see how your friends looked at each other again while aran reached over to you, grabbing your head, like he had done ever since you were children. it was a familiar gesture, one that always gave you comfort and reassurance.

but today you felt your heart crack as soon as his hand engulfed yours.

next to you, suna turned his upper body in your direction, his hands shoved in the pocket of his sweatshirt. “then where—“ he stopped for a second, like he was afraid to continue, afraid of what you might say. “where are you going?”

you opened your mouth, only to close it again, your throat protesting the second you tried to produce a sound.

you couldn’t.

“(y/n)?”

“hospice“ your voice wasn’t louder than a whisper and if it wasn’t quiet in here then you were convinced that nobody would’ve even heard you. and as soon as your voice died down, silence settled over you again — you practically could’ve heard a pin drop.

hospice.

not daring to look up, you instead continued to stare at the floor with such an intensity that you almost feared to burn holes in it.

“wait,” osamu frowned, taking a deep breath. instinctively he reached out for his brother’s hand, a habit the two of them had ever since they were kids, and atsumu gave it a squeeze. “you’re going to die? is that what you’re telling us?”

yes you were.

“(y/n)?”

you hated the sound of kita’s voice. he sounded so unsure, so weak.

kita was never one of these things. he had always been a rock, a safety net.

and now the net had a big hole in it.

“please, say something,” it was suna who begged with a shaky voice, fidgeting in his seat as he silently prayed that he misheard. that all of this was a giant prank. a dream. anything but reality. “anything”

“i’m sorry,“ you breathed out, clutching aran’s hand forcefully as you finally, finally, allowed tears to escape your eyes, leaving behind a wet trail on your cheeks. you looked up at your best friend, practically shivering in your seat. “i’m so sorry”

evanescent

/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/ — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”

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[spliffymae]

nobody has to know, a. ojiro

synopsis: it’s caribana season, but instead of catching the dirtiest of wines, aran is moping at his place, thinking about you.

⚠️afabreader, fwb!aran, aran post time skip, reader is caribbean, established fwbs, jealous aran, smut, mentions of phone sex, implied (un)protected sex, MINORS DNI !

kio’s notes - wishin all y’all a hot girl/boy/person summer !!!!

now playing

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

“y/n, you know you have to get permission before you can walk out like that.” your friend teased you once she saw your costume. it was the day of caribana, a day that shouldn’t have tasted bittersweet on your tongue, but did when you realized you wouldn’t be going with aran, your original date for the day.

you kissed your teeth as you grabbed your keys off the counter, dropping them in the side bag strapped to your waist.

“fuck permission. and fuck ojiro’s goofy ass anyways”

3 weeks earlier….

“oh my god, you’re fucking stretching me outtt.” you whine, your lips pouty with fat tears rolling down your face. you were sitting on aran’s lap, being slid down onto his hard dick as you two sat on the couch in your living room.

aran doesn’t respond just yet. he’s too busy trying to keep his composure, stopping himself from cumming before he can really enjoy you.

“aren’t you glad i answered that call, hm? got to give your spoiled ass just what you needed to feel better.” he was a deep baritone in your ear, the velvet of his durag slightly rubbing against your face when he lowered to speak to you.

“but i-it’s not what i wanted.” you let out with a huff. “you’re playing games with me right now, oji.” you were trying really hard to not be the whimpering, babbling mess he knew you were. you were trying to prove him wrong.

aran laughed, “like you weren’t playing games when you let that whack ass take you out. now be good and watch the movie.”

he was right. after all, this all started because you called him to fix a bad hookup you had with a good first date.

“it’s 2am, i thought you and whatshisface were linking.” aran was curious when your name popped up on his phone. after you told him about the date and texted him that the guy wasn’t a creep, he figured he’d hear from you in the upcoming days.

“the stroke game was nonexistent. he came from a handjob and couldn’t get it back up. i’m mad i wore this for nothing.” you were on facetime, so aran could see the annoyed look on your face; the way your brows knitted together and creased, with your eyes filled with disappointment. your brown lips were pushed out in a pout and without a second thought, you flipped your camera to show your mirror. you stood in a pink lingerie set, and the sight of you had aran’s cock twitching in his pyjama pants.“i don’t get it. i look so pretty tonight, oji. don’t i?”

the way his name fell from your mouth made his heart skip. the neediness in your tone, the yearning he could hear just from his name. how you wanted him. aran swallowed back the carnal groan that tried to creep its way out his mouth, “yeah, you look so pretty, princess.” he said with a comforting smile. he looked back up at his tv, his nba 2k23 mycareer opened with his friends spamming his chat and yelling at him to snap back to reality and back to the game. his mic was on, but he had muted them to focus on you. they, however, could hear you two.

you sighed, “can you come make me feel better? …i don’t feel pretty.” and aran hated that you let this dickhead get to you like this. how you looked in the mirror with sad eyes. he knew you shouldn’t have gone on that date. he knew you weren’t gonna be satisfied with anyone but him.

“of course, i’m comin’ right now.” he didn’t waste a secon contemplating on whether he should leave to go to you at 2am. he turned off his ps4 and hung up the call, grabbed a t-shirt, hoodie, his phone and his car keys, and was on his way to you.

2 weeks earlier…

“bro, you literally just disappeared on us last week. you know that was the only free time all of us had.” osamu pushed aran as the two stood in the starbucks line. they were meeting some friends from high school at the coffee shop to hang out. since graduation, each of them went their separate ways, focusing on achieving their respective goals. they always made time to hang out once a week though.

aran mumbled a meaningless apology, “sorry man, had to take care of something.” he wasn’t sorry. he honestly didn’t care. if he could choose between playing video games with his friends or spending a night in you, he would pick you everytime.

“something or someone. y’know one day we’re gonna have to meet this girl. it’s been going on for so long now.” samu gave aran a final look before stepping up in the line. he was next to order, watching as the girl in front of him stepped to the side.

you had looked up from your position at the cash register of your job to see two familiar faces. one being your friend osamu from volleyball camp, and aran—the man, who just last night, was moaning into his phone about how bad he needed you while he pumped his hand around his cock.

“y/n! looking radiant as ever!” osamu winked.

you flashed a smile,“thank you osamu, what can i get y’all today?”

“i’ll take a white chocolate mocha, spinach and feta egg wrap, and the truth from aran about his secret girlfriend!” the last part came out of nowhere catching both you and aran off guard. you laughed a bit, but out of pure nervousness. your heartbeat even increased.

“samu!” the young man yelled, giving osamu a slap to his shoulder.

you simply giggled, “this girl must be pretty special if you gotta keep her a secret, oji.” the nickname didn’t come out in the usual way aran was use to hearing. with your voice breathless and filled with an adoration for him. instead it was purely friendly, with a little hint of playfulness. it was different, and it made him miss the former.

“there’s no girl, samu. i ain’t find anyone worth my time, alright? aran ojiro is meant to be a free bird, so let me fly.” aran said as he walked to the other open register, eyes completely missing you as he gave a flirty smile to your coworker. and of course, she loved it. you on the other hand, found yourself to be irked.

1 week earlier…

“bro, you seriously ghosted me over something you took out of context?” aran had finally gotten the chance to be face to face with you after a week of radio silence from you. you two had both shown up to kita’s birthday party. you had come just to show face. you weren’t gonna stay—you were simply there to hand kita his gift and leave before a certain six foot wing spiker showed up.unfortunately, aran spotted you handing the present off to kita with an apologetic smile, attempting to leave before you could see him.

before you could step off the porch, aran had dragged you back into the house, disregarding the looks from guests and protests from you, and pulled you upstairs into the bathroom. he pressed you on your absence, on how you refused to pick up his calls and leave his texts on delivered.

“i’m letting you fly, what’chu mean? you’re a free bird, right?” you knitted your brows in curiosity, “i mean,” you smiled, “that’s what you said…right?”

aran pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration. he leaned against the bathroom counter, standing in front of you, seated at the edge of the tub in front of him. “seriously? i was just saying that to get samu off my back. and even if i meant that shit, so what? we’re just fucking.”

you scoffed, “so now it’s just fucking?…don’t give me that shit, aran. you and i both know we passed ‘just fucking’ a long time ago. but you wanna go flirt with other people in front of me? like you weren’t on my phone begging for me?” you had an attitude, that was for certain.

“bro, why are you trying to make this complicated? i swore we weren’t supposed to be anything serious.” he was defensive, honestly he didn’t know why. he just didn’t like how you were coming for him.

you nodded, “right. so we can just act like we don’t care for each other.”

“i didn’t say all that. i’m just not understanding why you’re getting at me over a misunderstanding.” he honestly wasn’t looking for this. he was just hoping to get a brief explanation and maybe even a lil’ sum sum, but instead he was getting an earful. and it wasn’t an earful of your moans, the way he had hoped.

“because i like you, asshole. because you fuck me and say shit like ‘this my pussy’ or ‘i’m the only one for you’. because you take me out and shower me with affection. because you’re there whenever i need you. and you expect me to what? not feel a way? be okay with you flirting with other girls in my face?what, am i just hear to make you hard?” you raise your arms in frustration.

it was clear from his reddened eyes he had smoked, and the vodka breezer he held in his hand let you know he was lightly drinking too. you say all this because it had to be these factors that made him respond to you the way he did. with a half smirk and laugh, “what’s wrong with just making me hard?”

but you found nothing funny about this. not anything about you finally telling him how you felt was funny to you. it was a pain. a giant and irritating one that you wanted to be free of, but somehow just seemed to worsen. “you know what, you clearly don’t care so i’m not gonna either. see you around, oji.”

the nickname was in a different tone this time around. no adoration, no playfulness. you spoke it flat, with no emotion. and as you stood up and left aran in the bathroom by himself, with the last words being his name in such an emotionless voice, he couldn’t help but think he might have fucked that up.

present…

aran was sitting on his front porch, spliff in hand as he looked down at his phone. today was caribana. he was supposed to be there with you. but instead he was nursing what kita described as a ‘cracked heart’.

he was thinking about you. about how hurt you looked as you left the party. you went radio silent on him afterwards. didn’t hit him up for anything; not to link, not to fuck, not to talk...you were ojiro free—and he hated it!

“so y/n was the secret girlfriend.” osamu had come outside from the kitchen, two cold beers in his right hand.

“wasn’t a girlfriend.” aran mumbled, taking a pull from his spliff.

osamu rolled his eyes, “shut up, she might as well been. look how she got you. meanwhile where is she?” it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but aran took it literally. with his phone in his other hand he went to instagram and ironically, your story was the first in the long and seemingly endless line of instagram stories. he tapped the icon, immediately seeing a video of you posing in your costume with shensea’s shen yeng anthem coming through your phone.

osamu leaned over to see you and mindlessly whistled at your appearance. “you fumbled a serious bag, my friend.” he ignored the glare aran sent his way because he knew aran knew he was right.

“shut the hell up.” the bitter man mumbled, eyes looking back on his phone to see the next story you posted. it was you on the street, posing with people from your band as you all held up your country’s flag. aran got a better look of your costume. the way that its colors; the purple bands and silver jewel stoned garments that connect to them, brought out your rich and warm undertone the way your headpiece demanded the attention to be on you. you were all smiles with your girlfriends, and aran loved to see you happy. your smile was probably his favorite thing about you.

pissed him off he wasn’t the one making you smile like that, though.

“tsumu just texted me that he sees her.” osamu said just as the timer for your story ran out. it then went to atsumu’s who was holding his phone high up, recording not only him walking w the parade of people, but walking behind you…who was carelessly wining against his crotch to the sounds of gyal you a party animal.

osamu had just so happened to glance back at aran’s screen and his mouth instantly fell at the sight. there was his twin brother, handing his phone off to someone next to him as he flipped to the back camera. he took your hips in his hands and began to move against you making you cheer in excitement.

it was all harmless, a careless bubble he caught because he was your friend. there was nothing serious about it, and that is what made aran the most upset. to know you were okay to do that. because you weren’t his, he had no right to get mad at you just dancing with atsumu because you two are not together, that’s what he knows you’d say if he were to bring this up. but he made it his right to have, the jealousy. because who did you think you were to move against any other man the way you moved against him?

osamu wanted to laugh! because of course this would happen to aran. of course the man who was ‘too busy for love’ would find himself pining after “the one that got away”.

some time had passed and aran was now three spliffs in, a beer in hand as he sat on the beanbag in his room. some random show was playing in the back, but all his attention was on the various instagram and snap stories you posted. he would even watch the snaps of your friends just to see if he’d catch you doing anything. yeah, he was down so bad. here you were having so much fun without him. so much so that not only was he annoyed, but he finally decided to just cave and text you.

ojiro (don’t answer rn)

honestly i’m too high

but fuck it you won

i care about you

and you make me hard

so call me when you see this

[nanami2ndbureau]

Accent(s)

CW: angst, no comfort

“Divorce”. It was said funny. Your husband knew you were French and had a little accent with certain words, you had warned him, but he only rarely heard that little accent but it just made it even more special. He cherished the few words you would say with your adorable accent. Squirrel was one of them. No effort on that one. You’d just say “skwi-rel” and call it a day. He laughed so hard the first time he cried. Then there was “hierarchy”. And after that “throughout”. The little accent mishaps were so precious to your husband. It was like he was the only one who truly knew you. He was the sole guardian of your secrets. Because those had to stay secret because you get embarrassed easily. Today, as you utter for the first time in 10 years of being happily married the word divorce. Your husband can’t help the bittersweet taste forming in his mouth and feel the loathe in his heart. He loathes that you said the word, but he loathes himself even more for breaking your heart to the point of making you drop to your knees with tears filled eyes. You were never one to show negative emotions. You kept those to yourself. You thought that showing your tears to anyone was an admission of weakness and you were nothing short of mighty. He had traded an amazing partner for a few minutes of fun. He felt flattered a younger woman . And here he was, as you went back to the impassible facade you once had when you first met with your husband. A facade he took so long to break in. A facade that had kept you safe from people like him. 

[kingyo-konbini]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS [KITA SHINSUKE X READER]

[SUMMARY] kita’s friend suddenly moves out of town without a word. he doesn’t realize how much she took with her when she left. [PRONOUNS] she/her [GENRE] light angst | song fic [POV] third person [WORD COUNT] 977 [CONTENT] miscommunication/lack thereof | unknowing mutual pining | inspo from song lyrics [A/N] may or may not have stolen this from a thing I wrote for my oc and tweaked it a bit…

(I still have everything you brought / But you never took)

She’d left her book.

It was a strange book, one Kita had never read himself despite finding the title intriguing. “Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World” by Murakami Haruki. She was more than halfway through it, the pale blue bookmark he’d given her sticking out from the pages.

It sat on his desk, next to a near-empty pack of peach-flavored gum. She’d left that, too.

The thought of reading the book for himself crossed his mind, but the moment the thought occurred, a sick, sour feeling bubbled up in his stomach, telling him he couldn’t—he needed to save her spot, so she could pick it up again when they met.

The gum, however, did need to go. He was more of a mint fan himself, and the gum might go stale by the time they reunited. Could gum go stale? Regardless, it would just be better to buy her a new pack, anyway.

His feet wouldn’t move towards his desk, though.

[“You left your book and some gum.”]

The text went through, but was never answered.

The book and the pack of gum remained on his desk, untouched, for almost a month. Then, his grandmother took pity on him and threw the pack away and put the book on his bookshelf.

She didn’t say anything about it, and neither did he.

[“Granny threw the gum away, I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new pack.”]

The text went through, but was never answered.

[“Are you coming back?”]

The text went through, but was never answered.

[“Are you coming back?”]

He stopped texting her.

(And although I think I’ll miss them / At least there’s proof of my existence)

They weren’t dating. They had never dated. He was her best friend, and in some ways she was his, too. They shared things, and she had developed a bad habit of leaving things at his home.

Kita, on the other hand, always made sure to keep track of his things. There was one time a knit hat went missing, but he quickly discovered that she had absconded with it after being surprised by a cold front. She offered to return it, but he declined. It looked better on her.

There was another time she asked to borrow a pen before classes started, stating that she’d forgotten hers at home. How she could forget her pen dumbfounded him, but he provided her with one of his own, nonetheless. A never used, black ink ballpoint pen; his favorite brand, and one of the last ones he had remaining. He didn’t tell her this, knowing that she would refuse to even borrow it with that knowledge. He didn’t ask for it back after class.

Granny had helped clean out the family’s house after they moved, and she’d mentioned offhandedly once that despite leaving in a hurry, they hadn’t forgotten a single thing.

For some reason, it felt good to think that she still had his hat and his pen, even if she didn’t remember where they’d come from.

(You know where to find me)

Nobody really brought her up once news of her moving made it around the school. Kita didn’t think it was out of sympathy for him, which although thoughtful was unnecessary, but more so because the year was ending and life doesn’t stop for one girl.

His unread texts to her were buried beneath other texts with his family, friends, and teammates. Her book remained on his bookshelf, with the pale blue bookmark saving her place. Eventually the scent of peaches stopped reminding him of her. He bought mint gum and finished the pack.

His number didn’t change, nor did his address.

One time Miya Atsumu asked about her after practice. It wasn’t even a question directed at Kita, but instead towards Ojiro.

“Did we ever find out what happened to-?”

“Her family moved away.” Ojiro answered, glancing at Kita, who didn’t look away from the ball he was wiping off.

“Do we know where?”

“I think I heard someone mention Tokyo once.”

“Did she ever reach out to ya, Kita-san?”

Kita ignored the smack on the arm Ojiro gave the older twin.

“No.”

“But y’all were close, weren’t ya?”

Ojiro hissed at him to shut up. Kita shrugged.

“She knows where I am.”

Miya Atsumu never brought her up after that.

(And I know where to look)

It was unexpected, seeing her on the court.

She sat on the ground, fiddling with a large, fancy camera in her lap. Another girl stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder and watching. The Nekoma team’s captain was standing in front of her, laughing.

She looked the same, from where he stood. He imagined that she would think the same of him.

A low whistle speared the air behind him. “No way. Is that…?” Kita hummed in favor of a response. “What’s she doin’ here?”

He didn’t have an answer to Ojiro’s question.

He looked away.

It didn’t surprise him to find her lurking in the hallways outside the bathroom just before the Inarizaki team was set to start warming up; if he’d spotted her, then she must have spotted him and remembered his little routine prior to the start of a game. It just felt better to begin playing with clean hands.

Her camera wasn’t with her, and there was a hollow, sorrowful expression on her face. She met his eyes for a moment, and then looked back at the ground.

She didn’t say anything.

Kita tried to ignore what felt like a thousand snakes moving around in his stomach upon being so close to her again. He hadn’t ever consciously thought about it until that moment: he’d missed her.

“Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World.”

“I still have your book.”

And she still smelled like peaches.

[sassycheesecake]

"I love you too much“ - Shinsuke Kita x Reader

A/N: Based on the song „I love you too much“ from the movie „The Book Of Life“. Give this song a listen to, it’s beautiful. Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: none

„I love you too much

To live without you loving me back“

Shinsuke Kita is just a Fueneku Middle School student when he first met you. He saw you in his classroom for the first time, he swears everything around him moved in slow motion, eyes entirely focused on your beauty.

As the years went by, now a High School student of Inarizaki, Kita saw you grow into an even more beautiful person, personality and appearance speaking. The way you show kindness to other people, the exciting way your eyes gleam up when you see either dogs or cats on the streets. There’s only problem. Your heart belongs to someone else’s that is not Kita‘s.

It’s Aran‘s.

„I live for your touch

I whisper your name night after night“

After the loss against Karasuno in the Spring Tournament, Kita lays in his bed awake at night, unable to sleep. Not necessarily because of the loss, but because the way you hugged him to comfort the team after their loss.

It was only for a few seconds but the way your soft body felt against his, was Kita‘s dream come true. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries by hugging you back right in front of his teammate, who is also your boyfriend.

It’s like your scent still lingers in his memories. The scent of vanilla mixed rose petals.

Kita sighs deeply.

"Why can’t you be mine (Y/N)?“

„Heaven knows your name I've been praying

To have you come here by my side“

It’s a cold winter morning on New Year’s, when Kita walks up to the shrine for New Year prayers. With small steps, he enters the temple and presses his hands together.

'Please give me the chance and courage to show (Y/N) how I feel about her.’

As the Outside Hitter is about to turn around, he sees Aran walking in as well, with an extremely tired look on his face.

Aran greets Kita with a friendly smile and Kita asks his teammate about the dark circles under his eyes.

Heaving a deep sigh, Aran sends his prayer as well, before answering Kita.

“(Y/N) and I have been fighting a lot lately. I think our relationship is breaking apart and I am hoping the Gods will have mercy on me to fix our relationship.”

Hearing those words makes Kita’s stomach twist with jealousy.

Kita can’t help but hope that the Gods overhear his prayer over Aran’s.

„Without you a part of me is missing

Just to make you my own, I will fight“

It’s been years since Kita last saw you, now being the age of 24 and having his own rice farm, there is not a day that Kita doesn’t think about you. When he was on his way to deliver his rice to Onigiri Miya, he wonders if you and Aran stayed together and what you are doing now as an adult. Carrying the rice bags inside to help Osamu, the bell of the front entrance door chimes, making both men stop what they are doing to see who has entered this early.

Osamu smiles slightly when he spots you.

"Ya here early today, we don‘ open 'til 11, ya know that.“

You chuckle a bit in reply.

"I know, I know. But you said yesterday that the new rice delivery comes in the next day, which is today obviously and I wanted to help you but I can see you already have someone doing that for you.” You smile brightly at Kita.

That smile of yours is going to be the death of him.

"I am gonna go change, be right back.” You say while disappearing around the corner.

Osamu sees the blush on his former captain’s face, teasing him.

"She’s a beauty eh?”

"She’s always been beautiful.” Kita states in a quiet voice but Osamu still hears him.

"They broke up yannow? Aran and (Y/N). Too focused on volleyball and she didn’t wanna do that back-and-forth anymore.” Osamu places a heavy bag of rice into the cabinet before rubbing the sweat off with his forearm.

Kita’s wide eyes find Osamu’s gray eyes and the ravenette says one more sentence before Kita gets back into his truck to drive back.

"If ya come over more, 'm sure she would give ya a chance. Heard 'er say that she’s looking for somethin’ serious again to her friend on the phone the other night.” Osamu gives a wink into Kita’s direction and Kita makes it his goal to win your heart and show you his love that hasn’t faltered since Middle School.

„There's love above love and it's yours cause I love you

There's love above love and it's ours if you love me

As much“

Many years later, Kita sits on a wooden bench on his patio in front of his home. The gentle breeze of the wind flows through his black-whiteish hair, the sunset painting the sky with the most beautiful orange, red and pink colors that reflect on some of the clouds.

His fields blooming high, soon to be ready for harvesting.

All of sudden, he feels a pair of arms sneaking around his neck, a chin gently propped on top of his head.

He raises a hand and entangles his ring-adorned finger with yours.

"Whatcha doin?”

"I am thanking the Gods every day to have you by my side. I truly have been blessed with your kindness and your heart that you gave me to protect, care and cherish for.”

Giggling softly at your fiancé’s romantic words, you squish your cheek against the top of his head, tightening your grip around him a little bit more.

Kita moves his head so he can stare into your eyes with a lovesick smile.

"I love you so much (Y/N).”

Pressing a gentle kiss against his lips, you whisper against them.

"I love you too Shinsuke, more than life itself.”

@rukia-uchiha-98 @nerd-of-karasuno @wake-uptoreality @darthferbert @lyditheoverthinker

[iluvangel]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

• HAIKYUU •

• will be updated regularly

★ K A R A S U N O 🏐🐦‍⬛:

WHOLE TEAM ❗️

kink list

★ N E K O M A 🏐🐈‍⬛:

★ A O B A J O H S A I 🏐🏰:

★ D A T E T E C H 🏐⛓️:

WHOLE TEAM ❗️

kink list

★ F U K U R Ō D A N I 🏐🦉:

★ S H I R A T O R I Z A W A 🏐📢:

★ I N A R I Z A K I🏐🦊:

★ M O R E T H A N O N E🏐:

•their reactions to u sleeping while cuddling a pillow

★ O T H E R 🏐:

( I don’t like their schools but I love these characters)

[makethiscanon]

I just spent half a day in a hyperfixation-fuelled editing daze, but I got 49 Ojiro GIFs out of it!

[mashoji]

⠀⠀⠀ i’ve⠀been ⠀tossed⠀ aside⠀ forever⠀

                            maybe ⠀ it was⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 ⠀ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ⠀ 𝘽𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍 ⠀…

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⁿᵒ ⠀ⁱ ⠀ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ⠀ ᵃˢᵏ ⠀ ᶠᵒʳ ⠀ ᵐᵘᶜʰ

I need to write Ojiro angst so bad .. huffs and puffs.. he’s just a poor boy who always gets forgotten by everyone 😞😞

(And then happy ending where him and Shinso get together and live a happy life)

Maybe it’s time to start a new story on ao3..

[brokebrakes]

a feeling of deja vu washed over me as yet another fan of aran stopped us to take a picture with him. usually, i wouldn't mind, smiling from the sidelines as he had a brief conversation with them. but today, we're celebrating our 4 year anniversary. we were already a few minutes late to the restaurant a made a reservation at, so when they took just one picture, i grabbed aran by the arm and dragged him away.

'woah woah woah! what're you doing?' he exclaimed, pulling his arm back.

'aran. we need to get to our anniversary reservations! we're already 10 minutes late!' i complained, tapping on the watch on my wrist. he rolled his eyes, shaking his head in a disappointed manner.

'i can't believe you pulled me away from a fan for some stupid anniversary reservation!' my eyes widened as i tried to comprehend what he just said. stupid anniversary? i looked back at my watch and sighed. i didn't allow myself to comprehend it, walking away from him in a silent fury.

'y/n, you know i didn't mean that.' he jogged up to me, placing a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

'let's just go, okay?' i muttered, not once laying an eye on him. i knew i was in the wrong, pulling him away from a fan like that. but the response was beyond me.

we didn't speak the whole way there, making it awkward when we got there. our usually full and interesting conversations were replaced with short questions and dry responses.

'is the food good?' aran asked, placing his hand on my free one. me being the petty person i am, yanked away and focused on the meal in front of me.

'yes, ojiro. thank you.' he paused for a moment, mouth agape. as i took a sip of my drink, he threw his fork and knife on his plate, making a big clang. i flinched, causing me to spill a bit on my shirt.

'what the hell is up with you?' he said in an exasperated tone. i cocked my eyebrow, making a confused expression.

'what now?'

'you never call me ojiro. you mad at me?'

'can we just eat our food and be done with this?' i suggested, patting a napkin on the wet spots. when he noticed the small amount of damage he did, he picked up another napkin and applied it to my shirt.

'my bad. can we please talk? i know this is about what i said earlier.'

'i'm over it! just leave it alone!' i replied, beginning to raise my voice.

'i can't 'just leave it alone!' and i know you aren't over it! i ruined our anniversary, i'm sorry, but i don't wanna ruin our relationship! just talk to me, please.' he took my hand in his, intertwining them. i sighed, my silent fury wavering as he kept unbreaking eye contact with me.

'i'm just being petty like always, don't even worry about it.'

'y/n. i was in the wrong, i admitted that already. can you just admit you're mad at me? i don't like you dismissing your feelings to deescalate shit.'

'fine! i hate how you wasted time on our anniversary of all days to have conversations with random people! i hate how you talk to them for way longer than you need to! i hate how you me feel like i did something wrong! and i hate how things this trivial get me riled up! i hate it! i hate all of it!'

i held my head in my hands, sobbing into them uncontrollably. i heard shuffling around me as i felt myself begin to hyperventilate. aran wrapped his arms around me, rubbing circles on my back in an attempt to calm me.

'sorry, this is so pathetic.' i said, choking on my sobs. he shook his head, caressing my cheek.

'nah, this is growth. we're growing, y/n.'

[taekozuyang]

the line between us

⭒ suna rintarou x fem!reader

⭒ tags: fbw to lovers (?) | angst | love triangle | emotionally constipated suna | ARAN APPEARS HERE and he's the only person with actual braincells, we love him for that

⭒ nsfw tags: face fucking | oral sex | nipple pinching (punishment) | booty calls | mentions of penetration | let me know if i miss anything

⭒ wc: 5.1k

ㅡafter the stunt pulled at the party, you find yourself with an answer you seeked for but wished never had to know.

a/n: a repost (tho i took down the first one hours after its release) bc i finally, for the love of god, proofread this. it's not perfect but it's the best it can get. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this. sympathize with me, cry with me. goodluck ;)

the drabble i based this off | part 1

the morning has been dragging you out as though you could sense every student's wasted energy from last weekend's party. even you have not recovered from the events that unraveled that nightㅡalbeit, a particular blonde made it almost unforgettable. he made it clear to leave a receipt, a topic to gossip about on a sober monday morning.

"you're dating y/n?!" the blonde announces in an obnoxiously loud voice.

to be fair, how could not one's ear be piqued by a controversial statement? even you, the subject of the news, had your eyes goggling at osamu's twin, the infamous blonde setter who broke the news to everyone, miya atsumu.

osamu peels his head away from the fake kiss to look at his brother with a face you could imagine, embarrassed or worse horrified. his face instantly beats red, which does not help at all because it made him look guilty. in a snap, everyone's eyes were on you. a spectacle in a midst of a bleak university life.

"since when?! i thought you guys were just friends?" as atsumu pressed it became more complicated.

if osamu denies dating then the plan will collapse in a matter of seconds all because of his brother's nosiness. besides, osamu is concerned about you. he knows that putting a label on a romantic relationship is a concept hard for you to grasp. he does not want to make you feel uncomfortable by insensitively claiming that you both are dating. thus, the best response he could muster is to divert the attention.

"what's with that ugly expression on your face?" he insults him with his biggest pride (aside from being one of japan’s best setter) "and what's it with you if i am or am not dating (y/n)? it's not like you don't know her."

as atsumu theatrically gasps out loud, his drink spilling over the rim of his cup at his sudden movement your eyes gravitate toward the far corner of the room so easily as though being with him for more than a year or so made you instinctively find him in a crowded room. all faces turn blank as you spot him standing alone with a cup in hand and eyes locked with yours. he neither moved a muscle nor stray his focus from you. instead, he stares at you as if the argument between the twins and the loud music in the room vanishes into white noise. he was hard to read. he appeared as if he was the person you first met, and not the one you spent rainy days in bed, clothed with nothing but his arms around your naked waist.

in the end, osamu was forced to give a vague answer to redeem the situation. "maybe, we're dating. maybe, we're not." up until today atsumu has no idea of the truth.

no one knows the truth of your petty revenge.

today, you thought of giving back to osamu by baking him snacks during the food laboratory. it's a recipe you came up with for a project. you made it a point to make more than you are required so both you and osamu can share, like you always do. bonding over food has become a thing between the two of you.

monday is the only time of the week when you do not share a class with your friend and the only chance you get to meet him is when you cross paths at the corridor, which happened just now.

"samu!" you greet from a distance, your free hand waving at him. osamu reciprocates by flashing a smile.

"hey." he says, catching his breath as he jogs toward you. "do you have class after four?" he asks. when you utter no, his face lights up. "can you please do me a favor? my professor messed up my schedule."

"sure, as long as it's anything within my capacity," osamu lets out a relieved sigh.

"here," handing you a camera in his hand, you can already tell what it's about. "i promised tsum to record their practice game today at four but i couldn't since my professor is calling us for an unannounced consultation."

"this technically works in atsumu's favor." you arch a brow making the other pull the corner of his lips upward.

"i know my brother is a bit of an ass but i want to support him. i'm pursuing my passion and so does he, and he supports me with my cooking. i do not want to let him down today since this practice match is important to him and his team. so, technically..." he copies your wording endearingly as he suppresses a smile (how can you say no at this point??) "...it is important to me too. It’s a favor that works two ways, me and atsumu's but i'd say more of me since i do not want to get an earful from him when we get home so can you do this for me, please? pleaaase?"

you playfully roll your eyes as you say a half-hearted, "fine."

"yes! thank you! thank you!" osamu leans forward to catch you in a tight embrace. he pulls back to look at you at an arm's length. "i'll do anything to pay back the favor."

"you don't have to."

"no, i insist."

"samu, honestly, i'm in debt. i have to pay you back twice for the party last weekend."

"hm?" osamu angles his head to the side. "that's not a favor, it worked to my advantage too." you blink at him twice, confused if you heard him right.

"what?" but just as you asked, he shoves the camera in your hand as he walks past you.

"unimportant, bye!" he waves goodbye, leaving you baffled as you peer at both of your hands full of... wait... the food!

"samu, wait! the snack!" you lift a tight container in the air. "i baked these for you!"

instantly, osamu runs back to you with a grin that reaches his ears as you open the lid of the container. he takes a piece and bites large, enough to fill the sides of his cheeks. he thanks you hurriedly and wastes no time by briskly walking back down the hallway. a few steps away, he turns to look through his shoulder,

"ginger and cinnamon?! you're a mad scientist! when did you become a fan of cinnamon? it's on your every dish but it tastes good so i have zero complaints! thank you, (y/n)!" his comment makes you chuckle out loud only to be abruptly stopped by a realization that came after his innocent words. at that moment, your heart sinks gradually and silently into the depths of an open sea. it makes no noise, no signs of falling into a trap of nothingness that slowly turned into a tinge of pain. unable to grasp, your legs remained unmoved.

cinnamon.

he loves cinnamon.

on days spent with you, suna basks himself in the warmth of your apartment and fresh bakes. he told you that he loves cinnamon and you find it telling of his personality. like a cinnamon scent, his outer physique holds a hint of spice and mystery, one that reels you in. but as you devour it, rolling it at the back of your tongue and savoring every ounce of its taste, you relish sweetness. it is him, in every aspect, it is him.

osamu leaves you to your thoughts as the gray-headed misses to take a cue from your running mind. you are far more affected by suna than you thought. you were used to orbiting each other's ecliptics that losing him means losing your balance. it takes it in you to harden your knees and turn your feet into motion. when did you end up being so emotionally affected by someone?

you empty your mind as you walk to the gym, debriefing yourself on the task at hand. when you arrived, the volleyball team is already doing rounds of warm-ups as the visiting university settles their things on the other side of the court. atsumu immediately sees you as he turns a lap, face contorting into a confused look. soon, he approaches you before the practice game begins.

"i'm samu's sub." you say when he nears you.

"how kind of you. is this your way of putting your best foot forward so i can approve you as my twin's girlfriend?" you almost choke, almost. right, he didn't know. you make a mental note to tell osamu that he should let his twin know or else his mouth will cause you both a problem.

"but seriously," atsumu takes the water bottle next to you then uncaps it before taking a gulp. he takes the bottle away from his mouth and speaks. "take care of samu. he may appear unfeeling most of the time but he's a 'lil softy inside. when we were young i cry out loud in front of many making me the expressive and loud twin while he remains the calm, emotionally stable one. though i always catch him crying alone in our room."

atsumu is beginning to believe that you are officially dating his brother and something about what he said puts a weight on your shoulder. although bringing you as his date to the party to show it off to suna is his plan, you do not want to hurt him in any way possible. if your pretentious act will stir him into an issue he does not want to be involved in, you have no one else but to blame yourself. after all, he did it for you.

a man walks up to atsumu and before he could utter a word his eyes met yours. a subtle surprise makes his brow twitch as he sees you holding the miya’s camera.

"you're here." aran states the obvious.

"yep, i'll record the practice match. oh! speaking of i can send you a file too just give me your email."

"sure, it's ojiro underscore-" you cut him off, smiling to him shyly.

"no! there's no way i'll remember that. send it to me over sms. i think you have my number."

"do i?" he asks though it seemed as if he's asking himself rather than you. he shrugs, "if i don't i'll ask rintarou."

a prominent pound in your chest vibrates through your ribs as his name is spoken. You have lost grip on the situation before you as you ponder. why do you feel this way? he’s meant to be just your fuck buddy, a man that warms your bed when the night feels cold, nothing more. but why... why do you feel this way?

"your ex." atsumu fails to read the room. aran side-glances him as he damps his face with a towel.

"we were not dating." you point out with gritted teeth. atsumu is once again intrigued.

"'were'." he repeats to himself. "right, 'cause you're currently dating osamu." aran looks at you then back to atsumu then back to you again obviously eavesdropping. just when you thought his mouth will cause you and his brother a problem, he brings it to you the earliest possible. aran is suna's closest friend. if there is anyone who knows suna like the back of their hand, it is aran.

taking a swift glance at aran who is currently busy folding his towel, thus you take this chance to round your eyes at the blonde and point to the man next to him using your eyes. with a forced smile, you wish for atsumu to take a hint. "you know what tsumu, let's talk about it some other time."

he looks at aran briefly before turning to you with his brows pressed to the center. although hesitant, atsumu nods. "alright, you and samu need to explain a lot of things, and you guys might need time too. i don't mind waiting, okay? just in the meantime please be gentle with him. and don’t tell him I said that!” he points at you defensively making you laugh.

“aw, aren’t you a sweet brother?” as you tease him, the deeper the creases on his face appears making his the top of cheeks round like steamed buns.

ultimately, atsumu leaves you to your task as he jogs to the court for the practice match. aran, on the other hand, did not say anything about you dating osamu but instead said his thanks for recording the match.

by the time the practice match ended, the sun has long set. even though tonight may be the ideal time to walk back to your apartment under the shadows of moonlight, the heavy rain pour stops you. worse, it won't let you go home. you left your umbrella at your place again, a bad habit you have since. hence, you're stuck at the sports building. the only way for you to go home without getting all soaked up is through atsumu who is still in the meeting with their coach which takes hours to finish including the allotted time for a cool down and stretching and tidying up the court or you can wait for the storm to pass by which may also take hours or a day even since it shows no signs of stopping.

having left with no choice, you bounce on the balls of your feet as you stare outside. the loud splatter of rain on the roof and cement deafens your hearing which made it impossible for you to hear the footsteps coming from behind. an oversized leather jacket drops on your head, therefore, snapping you to divert your attention at the source. before you could see the person's face, his voice says it all.

"you never bring your umbrella." suna says, walking past you with a hood over his head and hands tucked inside the pocket of his pants. he spare you a look as the image of him blends in with the rain.

it was the first time he spoke to you since the event at the pumpkin patch. the day you never felt the same.

you reach home half-wet and half-not. the bottom of your legs down to your feet is soaked making the feel of your shoes and socks icky from rain but from your waist up to your face is dry thanks to suna's leather jacket.

upon entering your apartment, a dilemma keeps your feet glued next to the coat rack. you do not like seeing a piece of his clothing that line his silhouette out in the space where you can see at any point in your small apartment but you must hang it or else you will leave droplets of water on the floor. call it pathetic but you do not want to be reminded of him. remembering him brings a wave of emotions you are not accustomed to, one that you have not completely deciphered yet.

torn, you leave it on the floor. shriveled into a pile of black making it hard to recognize as a piece of clothing. that is not the best solution and you should not be doing this but it works for now. satisfied, you leave it at your doorstep as you head to your room to change.

---

what was once a daily chore for suna suddenly turn foreign to him after a prolonged time of abstinence but it does not miss the fact that his body still knows how to pleasure an expectant doe beneath him.

"fuck me in the face, suna." the girl from his class drags her lips from the column of his neck down to his collarbones. when she attempts to suck on his skin to leave a mark, suna pinches her nipples as a punishment.

"i said no to hickeys." suna glares at her and all she could do is whine and pout her lips. but when he was with you, he would let you do anything. he would let you pepper his skin with bruised kisses, marking every inch of his body and oddly suna became fond of it. he looks at himself through the mirror with traces of you after morning and mornings could not be better than it was. having realized what he is thinking and feeling pathetic to reminiscing about you in a midst of having sex, suna lowers his body to the woman. to cloud his thoughts, he hovers her completely about to shove his cock again into her sensitive pussy when she stops him mid-doing so.

"not now, it hurts. you fucked me hard i can't take another round." the edge of her manicured nails graze softly on his jawline. the other hand scratching his back down from his shoulder blades down to his inner thighs. "but if you let me..." suna groans from the touch of her hand around his length. she teases him more by moving her hand slowly up and down. she caresses his tip using her thumb which causes suna to shut his eyes. his reaction fuels the girl's confidence, therefore, sliding down beneath him and between his thighs, arms pressing his waist down to her face.

suna steadies his balance by holding onto the headboard of the bed. his body gains its motion, banging his hips against her face, cock deep down on her throat. wet moans escape from his lips as she sucks harder, lips tightening around his hardened cock, and tongue dancing at every thrust he gives. lust and pleasure build in his core which pushes suna to gain speed. choking noises and groans fill the small room as the girl begs for more and suna gives exactly what she asks.

though he is reluctant to admit it, the past few days of shared awkward glances and cold shoulders have taken a toll on him. he should not be disappointed because who you are to him should be nothing more than friends with benefits. but something about how you carried yourself to the party, hand anchored over some guy's arm as you giggle at whatever lame joke the miya told you that he couldn't easily brush off. more so when you looked at him from a distance like a stranger and not a person whom you spent more than a year with.

drooling on suna's precum and her saliva, the girl's soft cries tangles with his stuttered breathing. Her jaw tenses but when she feels suna's thigh tense and his hips jerking, a sign that he is about to cum she welcomes every thrust. she wants the infamous suna rintarou of the fine arts department to cum at her disposal.

meanwhile, he blocks any thoughts of you in his head as he focuses on cumming in her mouth. albeit, the girl encourages him as she closes her lips around his digit. soon, a rush of intensity overcomes his body. he shudders as his thighs constricts and lose strength. It is not long when he finally reaches his orgasm. it takes a few lazy pumps in her mouth for him to ejaculate. the girl swallows as she searches for his eyes. however, suna’s lids are shut as he leans his face on his forearm resting on top of the headboard. he takes his softened cock from her mouth before lying on the bed beside her. not a few minutes in, his phone rings to a call. suna curses under his breath as he is forced to push himself up. due to lack of strength, he slides from the bed to the carpeted floor to reach for his phone tucked inside the pocket of his pants scattered on the floor.

"hello?" he says in short breaths.

"so, it's true." the boy says without a context making suna pull the phone away from his ear to read the contact name. it reads 'ojiro aran'.

"about what?" the girl crawls up next to him, kissing the back of suna's ear.

"about (y/n). damn, i thought you were reading things wrong."

"what about her?" just as suna asked, the girl cooed for him to come back to bed, trailing kisses on his neck to lure him to cuddle her.

"jesus fucking-, i heard that. i heard that! you know what. nevermind." a sound of a ceramic cup hitting the wooden center table resonates from the other line along with aran's frustrated tone.

"no, no, don't hang up." suna utters hurriedly before covering the microphone of his pocket device. he turns around to mouth "i can't." to the girl. he takes his boxers tossed near his pants only to be rendered to a deflated beat on the other line.

aran did hang up.

suna was quick on redialing his friend's number and to his luck, aran answered almost immediately.

"don't leave me hanging." he gathers his clothes on the floor before heading straight to the bathroom.

"if i hear another moan from a girl i fucking swear i will not answer your call again."

"it's barely a moan but yeah, yeah, whatever. she's not here." there is a short pause at the end before aran asks, voice threading on thin ice.

"that girl... that isn't (y/n), is it?" although the answer to it is obvious, it took suna a couple of seconds to respond. last month he was enjoying a free taste of a muffin, cookie, a bun, and more all with the soft kick and aroma of cinnamon. with you time seems to slow down, watching movies, fucking until both of you are breathless, and talking about random things until sleep finds its way on your lids. but now is different. he stands inside an acquaintance's bathroom with a fresh scent of lemon and sweets, far from how he remembers you.

"no." suna utters in a low tone.

"on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are you? how can you mess this up?! i was rooting for you guys!" suna remains silent as he bites on his molars. aran begins to narrate. "she was at the practice game this afternoon and saw her talking to miya. i approached them and she asked me if i wanted the file, volleyball stuff. anyway, after that atsumu was damned serious about the topic they were talking about. you know, i can only count the times he was serious about something using one hand, volleyball included."

"were they talking about the incident at the party?" suna sits on the toilet cover as he listens intently.

"i am not sure if it was regarding that night but atsumu was asking (y/n) to take care of his brother since they're dating. i'm starting to believe something is going on between osamu and (y/n). i mean, (y/n) doesn't date, just like you, and for her to ‘date’ osumu… hah! this is a stretch for her. she even took osamu’s spot as a recorder at today’s practice match." aran waits for him to say anything but the other kept his tongue stuck to his throat. the boy asks. "have you talked to her?"

suna mumbles a weak "no."

"why not?"

"i don't know! she's not texting me!" frustrated, suna's voice increases in volume.

"well, have you tried reaching her?"

"no!"

"then, you're officially stupid! all you have to do is ask her why. is that hard to do?! for fucks sake you've slept with countless women but you still have zero ideas on how to deal with them?!" aran argues which heats the conversation even more.

"exactly! i only fuck with them but i never..." lost with words and unable to describe moments with you, suna curses out loud. "fuck this! fuck me! i fucking hate all of this!"

the boy with parted raven hair storms out of the apartment of the girl he barely remembers the name of and lets his feet take him anywhere. he never minds the heavy downpour of rain over his head. his thoughts are running fast, jumbled, and tangled into loops. aran's narrative and advice ring through his ears as doubts and feelings of betrayal resurfaces. out of all men in this world, you're dating someone whom suna kept a keen eye on. he was certain osamu had feelings for you long ago but you refuse to believe, teasing him about old foe jealousy. suna wasn't jealous. he can keep up with his lifestyle of sleeping with multiple women without feeling sheer jealousy when they turn to somebody else. it is something that never bothers him, or so he thinks.

his confidence is shaken when he finds himself knocking on a familiar door.

--

changing to comfortable oversized clothes and having a warm meal is not quite enough to change your thoughts on suna's leather jacket. you eye the innocent clothing lying on the floor begging to be picked up and hung over the hook like the others. if the jacket could speak it would have shouted at you to treat it fairly like the others on the rack.

"but your owner is a prick," you speak bitterly. great, now you're talking to a jacket. what's next? his shirt in your drawer? his phone number? his pictures on your phone? this is beginning to feel like an actual break up and it's causing you energy. you don't want to deal with these kinds of problems, mainly the reason why you never commit to a relationship.

when you were about to turn your face away from the front door, soft knocks on the door echoed.

"coming." you shout monotonously, dragging your feet to the door and freezing when the lights flicker. the thunder and lightning, heavy rain pouring, and unstable electricity power makes the scene before you like a deja vu of a horror film. after all, who the hell is visiting you at ten in the evening? and on a freaking stormy monday?

unlocking the barrel and twisting the knob open, you hesitantly pull on the door. behind it is the last person you expected. drenched and quivering in the rain and cold but he does not seem to mind or rather notice. however, his eyelids peel open when he sees you at the doorstep as though he, too, was clueless and surprised to see you.

"what are you doing here?" with a wide-eyed gaze your heart pounds in your chest. this is the first time you ever to talked to him in weeks.

"i-, a-are you," he stammers, swallowing thickly to regain his composure. he starts on the wrong foot. "why are you ignoring me?"

"rin, it's-" he cuts you off abruptly and fear comes alive when he asks.

"is it true? are you dating osamu?"

"listen, rin. i think you should-"

"tell me!" he shouts, a nerve on his forehead protruding from tension. "do you like him?! have you fallen for him?! do you imagine him as we fuck?!"

"NO! GOD, NO!" you scream. the sky rumbles and a harsh gust of wind swirls the trees into a stoic dance. the storm is with you. it unleashes wrath so you do not have to lose control. on the other hand, suna loses it.

"THEN, WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?!" at that moment, you too fell into the pit of wrath.

"AND WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KISS HER IN FRONT OF ME?!" as if the rain is not enough to fill the gutter with pools of rainwater, the clouds burst. gradually, water breaks through the edges to rush through the drainages, like your tears that had overflown your lids, forming streaks of rivers on your cheeks.

your silent cry snapped suna back to his senses, stunned that he had made you cry. he did not intend to confront you in an argument nor did he wish for the situation to worsen, but in a matter of a minute or so, he made it happen. He runs his tongue over his dried purple lips and catches you off guard when he closes the gap, hand meeting with the side of your face. his thumb catches a tear as worry replaces anger on his face.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you cry. i shouldn't have raised my voice at you. i'm sorry, i'm sorry." he hushes you with a soothing voice. both of his hands on your face holding you like a fragile ornament ready to break anytime pressure is applied. the tip of his nose brushes against yours as your foreheads connect, and he dips in. a pair of cold lips touch yours in a prolonged peck before he draws back.

"kiss me back." yearning laces in his voice that almost convinces you to do just as you were told when he leans to steal another kiss. he urges you to move your mouth with his but he is left to an unmoving pair. he pulls back just enough for him to speak. "why won't you kiss me?" he pleads in question so gently that it breaks your heart.

"i can't." you lower your head down, unable to meet his gaze.

"why not?" his lids flutter open as he tilts your chin to search for your eyes.

"i can't do this with you. we have to stop."

"i don't understand." his thumb rubs circles on your cheeks and his brows pulled lower.

"it's not the same, at least for me."

it all makes sense now. everything that you felt from the day you saw him kiss a woman at the pumpkin patch to having him hold you in this manner. how thoughts of him perceiving you similarly to every other girl he slept with burn holes in your chest. how he made you feel special, how he treated you special. how he kissed no one but you, touched no one but you. in a dreamlike glimpse, you were convinced that you are more than just a body count on his list. that maybe, he felt it too. maybe, you are an exception. maybe, he can feel for you too.

"i'm greedy. i'm selfish. i'm not the same." you mutter, brows pressed gently to form a crease on your forehead. you lock eyes with him. "i want something you can never give."

in finality, the heavens wail for your broken heart. for a second you thank a friend for crying with you, holding you through your first heartbreak. and you hoped that as the storm past by, it washes off the pain that left your heart.

then, all of a sudden just before your mouth opens to speak your final words, the electricity in your apartment went off.

a temporary silence,

a temporary death.

breaths together in a still room,

you bleed your heart open.

"i want all of you."

thank you for reading! as per usual, likes and rbs are very much appreciated. i also accept screaming keyboard smash as feedbacks, thanks lol.

masterlist | hq.list

[mytragedyperson]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added Characters: Haikyuu!! Ensemble, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Komori Motoya, Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club Members, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Suna Rintarou, Ojiro Aran, Kita Shinsuke, Hinata Shouyou, Oikawa Tooru, Sugawara Koushi, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei, Iwaizumi Hajime, Bokuto Koutarou, Kageyama Tobio, Yachi Hitoka Additional Tags: Angst, Heartbreak, Chatting & Messaging, chatfic, Fluff, Romance, Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Song: champagne problems (Taylor Swift), Various ships, OOC Summary:

Another Haikyuu chatfic. this one is not linked to my main chatfic universe. This one will have unconnected oneshots and miniseries. Feel free to request.

Okay so, a while back I posted a video of a silly texting thing i made. It was Sakuatsu angst with the song champagne problems by Taylor Swift. It was a silly thing I made when I was bored one day that, at the time of making, I had no plans of posting. Then I posted the video on here and moved on. But I decided to make a fic for any ideas I write that won't fit in my main chatfic verse and figured that could be the first chapter. So here it is in fic form. This is just for fun and may not fully make sense but here it is if you're interested. I'll warn you Sakuatsu don't stay together so, if you want Sakuatsu endgame, this might not be the chapter. But if you just want silly mild angst, here you go. 

Edit: I have now posted this as a tumblr textpost. the link to that is here:

[rishiguro]

INTRODUCTION; (Y/N)'S SQUAD

iwa‘s squad

fun facts !

(y/n) and osamu are in their final year of university; atsumu went pro immediately after high school

aran went to culinary school before he went pro

atsumu‘s contact name for kita is “farm boy” (he‘d never tell him though)

suna always plays something on spotify. literally.

instead of living in the dorms, osamu lives with his twin — and he loves to hide his keys after an argument.

evanescent

/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/ — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”

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[luminouschaotic]

angst aran more. cowards

[ayistrying98]

translation beta read

Is there anyone who understands English and Chinese? I started translating a Chinese Haikyuu fic about the Miya twins, and I really hope someone can help beta read it.

In this fic, the twins are a couple, but it isn't frequently mentioned. It's angsty, but it's not that apparent in the beginning. It grows.

The fic has a major character death!

If anyone is interested, I'll send the original text to you.

The end product will be shown on ao3. Shout out to you too!

The fic is quite well known in the Chinese Haikyuu couple angst fic circle.