#haikyuu angst
Hey y’all, it’s like 3am and I’m having a bit of a rough lil ride with my ✨trauma✨ and wrote this to calm myself down while I’m alone with my thoughts. I think it could maybe help some of you out there.
WARNING! This entire post is about sexual assault and how some of Karasuno would react to you telling them what happened.
If you have gone through this please remember it’s not your fault. It never was and it never will be.
- Suga finds out after he notices you going through an especially rough day. The memories get too much so you end up telling him everything. Suga asks if he can touch you and when granted permission, pulls you in to a hug and doesn’t let go. He puts his whole heart into holding you and tries everything he can to make you feel safe again.
- Tanaka gets angry. Not at you, at the person who did it. He gets so angry that he cries and punches a wall. He curses to himself about how he wishes he could have been there to help you.
- Hinata doesn’t know what to do, he starts shaking in a mixture of anger and heartache. He refuses to cry but tears still slip from his eyes as he tries to come up with ways to comfort you.
- Kageyama goes completely silent, his head down and staring at the floor. You feel scared at first, regretting telling him, thinking he’s mad at you. But he looks back up, eyes red and cheeks stained with tears. He wipes his tears with his sleeve and hugs you.
- Nishinoya sits, shaking his head. Not wanting to even think about anything bad happening to you. He immediately asks for the name of who did it and swears to you that not just him but the whole team will make sure to hurt them just as bad as they hurt you.
Hey, take a bit of a breather before you keep reading. Have a sip of water and take a deep breath.
- Asahi uses all of his strength to hold back his tears. He feels a massive lump in his throat that limits his breathing. He holds your hand and does the thumb stroke thingy. He reminds you that “you’re never alone”, “it’s not your fault”, “it’s okay to be upset”
- Daichi freezes up. His fingers curl into a fist and he clenches his jaw. Yet, he sets aside his anger to comfort you. He says nothing, just holds you close to him and lets you speak for as long as you need to. You rest your head on his shoulder.
- Tsukki doesn’t know how to react. He feels an unusual need to protect you. He doesn’t hesitate to express his disgust that someone could sink so low as to hurting you, especially in that way. He sits with you and listens to music to help calm you.
- You could almost see Yams heart crack in half. He stays silent for a moment, catching his breath as your story seemed to leave him as a loss for air. He can’t help but apologise for anything and everything. He holds your hands and presses his forehead to them. You feel tears drip onto your wrist.
- Kiyoko holds you the entire time you tell her what happened, she rubs up and down your arm and rests her head on yours. She asks very few questions. She very quietly cries and hopes you don’t notice because she doesn’t want to upset you more.
- Yachi the poor baby can’t fully comprehend it. In slight denial that someone could do something so awful. She offers to go with you if you decide to report it. She wants to make all of your pain go away but it kills her that she can’t do it.
Gotta sprinkle a little angst here and there I guess.
For real though I hope all of you are okay. I’m sorry if this post has made you go through some rough feelings, I know I certainly cried a lot while writing this. I’m sending all my love to you <3
I’m willing to write more of these if you guys have any comfort characters that you’d like some support from.
Once again, it’s not your fault.
I urge you to please tell someone or speak with a hotline if you are struggling.
miya osamu x reader, 2.6k
today is the day osamu confesses his feelings to you. you, through petals in shades of red, confess first.
“I think today is the day Tsumu.” Osamu says softly.
The early morning light peeks in through the windows of his apartment. He’s closed the restaurant today, taking a rare day off. He checked the weather app today too, and it’s a perfect summer day— no clouds, no rain. The temperature is just right.
Osamu never usually cares about the weather, he has other more important things to worry about than whether he’s wearing an appropriate outfit for going outside. But the weather is important today you see, and it determines what outfit he picks out, and the outfit has to be perfect; well, everything has to be perfect actually because—
“What’s going on today?”Atsumu asks through a yawn, scratching his head as he watches the tv. “It’s Halloween right? Nothing too special.”
“Well, yeah.” Osamu says, sitting down on the sofa next to him. He sets his coffee mug on the table and absent-mindedly stares at the tv. “But I was talking about something else.”
Atsumu looks confused. “What else is happening today?” His eyebrows scrunch as he racks his brain for any important event, before it dawns on him, “Oh! It’s y/n’s exhibit tonight, right?”
“Yes.” Osamu tries to say it casually, tries to hide the sun glowing inside of him. Y/N, it sings. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. “But that’s still not what I meant.”
Atsumu’s phone beeps with a notification. “Then what do you mean?”
“You know that girl I’ve liked?”
“The mystery girl you’re head over heels for?”
Osamu nods, “Yeah, I think I’m going to ask her out today.”
Atsumu paused.
Osamu contains his smile.
When Atsumu stays silent for a beat too long, Osamu asks, “Is my announcement really that shocking?”
“No,” Atsumu starts, “no, it’s just… do you really think it’s the best time to do it today? It’s Y/N’s exhibit.”
Osamu grabs his coffee mug and takes a sip. It’s still too hot, and god, he thinks he’s burned his tongue. “What about her exhibition?”
“It’s a big day for her,” Atsumu explains, “It’s all she’s talked about for the past month. Wouldn’t it be kind of insensitive if you ditch us halfway through just for your mystery girl? We’re supposed to celebrate after that too.”
Oh, that’s right. Osamu never got round to telling anyone that you were his mystery girl, that you were the one he’s head over heels for. In his defence, it’s a relatively new development in your friendship.
(but if he’s being honest, it’s been a long time coming.)
He met you a few years ago, back when he was still just a business student struggling his way through exams in college, and you were a photography student who happened to live next door to him. It took a while for your friendship to develop, Osamu not really being the type to go out and make new friends just because he lives next door to someone, but you’ve been as thick as thieves since then.
He thinks he’s loved you for a while now, but it was the quiet kind of love— the type that sneaks up on you until one day the feelings get unbearable and your heart screams for nothing but them.
He finally admitted to himself how he really felt a month ago. He had wanted to confess as soon as he found out, but the only thing that was stopping him was you. You had become sick with something recently, looking pale and constantly coughing into endless tissues. Osamu had been worried at first, tried offering to take you to the doctor but you dismissed all of his attempts.
It’s just stress, you had said, giving him a smile. I just have so much preparation to do for it, and I’ve barely been sleeping to try and get everything done.
You had this stubborn line on your forehead that Osamu yearned to smooth over with his thumb. He had wanted to help, but with his fear of overstepping your boundaries, he settled for making you dinner every other day, dropping by your house to make sure you were still taking care of yourself, saying don’t push yourself too hard.
But Osamu had seen you, just the other day. You looked exhausted, bags under your eyes, but there was colour back on your cheeks. You looked brighter, like a flower ready to bloom at the beginning of spring.
“It’ll be fine.” Osamu assures his twin. “I think she’ll be really happy, actually.”
Atsumu grunts, and he looks like he’s going to disagree but he says, “Whatever. Y/N’s a sucker for romance anyway; I doubt she’ll be mad at you for pursuing your mystery girl.”
Osamu agrees that you wouldn’t. Especially because you’re going to be in it
.
.
.
Osamu arrives at the studio alone.
He had told Atsumu to go on ahead without him, that he had to take care of something, but really he had just wanted to stop on the way and get you celebratory flowers.
It’s what he’s holding in his arms right now, a bundle of tulips, unusually bright and pink.The florist had told him that they only bloomed during spring time, like the cherry blossom trees. The only ones they had were preserved ones, made from real flowers but meant to last forever.
Osamu was disappointed when he couldn’t find any fresh ones, despite visiting three different florists; but they were your favourite flowers, so he settled for whatever he could get.
Thankfully, you’ve never been the type to be fussy over gifts so he knows you’ll appreciate it nonetheless.
He walks into the studio, looking for a sign that will point him in the right direction. He tries to remember the name of the exhibit, he knows that you had told him countless times before; but his memory is like a goldfish so he counts on something catching his eyes. Trip or tripe or—
Triptych. Decay in Triptych, written on the wall.
He follows the arrows, until he finds the right room, almost filled to the brim with people.
He stops at the front door in amazement. From what he knows, there’s only a handful of artists at this exhibit, most relatively new onto the scene. To be able to garner a crowd this big already is quite a feat he thinks. His chest blooms with pride.
He looks around the room, trying to spot a familiar face, but there’s just too many people. So he chooses to walk around instead. You and him are meant to be; he’ll find you in the end.
Osamu’s not an art student— far from it really. He’s a well-respected small business owner, only relatively new to the restaurant scene himself with Onigiri Miya. It was a hard journey through college, and even harder to try and build everything from the ground up but he always reminds himself of how you were there through it all. How you stayed up late with him often, trying out his new dishes, taking photographs to help with his promotion.
When everything seemed bleak for him, you were there to remind him that he was more than just his career, but you always believed in him. He doesn’t think he’d be where he is now without you.
It’s why he tries his best to understand the art in front of him, all the photographs hanging on the wall. If you can try and understand business models overnight just to try and comfort him, he can try and depict the art before his eyes— he owes you at least that much.
The one before him is about a town. Ghost towns, to be specific. The first picture is a simple one, empty land with trees, and animals and a river flowing through it; a picture showing the world before people. In the middle, there was a built up town, filled and lively with the hustle and bustle of locals. He could see a florist on the side of the road, a small bakery right next to it. And then the third picture, it’s the town on its last standing bones, bare and almost grinded into dust by time.
He understands this one easily, and it makes his heart ache. It reminds him of his grandma who lives in a small town, deep in the countryside where there’s only a few hundred people left. Nobody ever comes to visit, and no one ever decides to stay.
He makes a mental reminder to call his grandma tomorrow morning.
When he moves onto the next piece, he’s taken aback for a moment.
In the first picture, there is a singular white petal.
In the next one, there’s a handful of more of the white petals, all stained with a red liquid? Osamu isn’t sure.
In the third one, there’s so many petals, too many that they have fallen onto the floor. The petals are red. No, Osamu corrects himself, they were originally white. In the middle of all the red-stained petals, lays a whole flower, in perfect bloom. It’s large, and full, held up by a thorny, green stem. It’s also unnaturally red, like fresh blood on snow. But if you looked closely, you could see right by the stem— hints of white.
He realises quickly that it’s a rose.
Osamu only recognises it because it’s his favourite flower. His mother had always been fond of roses, and growing up his father had brought her home a bouquet of them every other week. They always filled his house, all different colours, red, pink, yellow— and his favourite of all, white.
This piece he doesn’t really understand.
Thankfully, there’s a neat little description at the bottom, written by the artist with vaguely familiar handwriting.
It reads: Hanahaki, love as decay.
Of course, Osamu thinks. How could he have missed it? Hanahaki happened so commonly these days, and he even knew a number of people affected by it, but it was rarely talked about. No one liked to talk about the disease that people looked upon as a curse.
He thinks about how personal it seems for the artist, and his heart feels heavy. With pity, almost. It’s not a piece he thought would belong here in this exhibit, but it’s certainly eye-catching.
He wonders who made it. He looks for the name of the artist but—
“Samu!”
You’ve found him.
.
.
.
Osamu’s arms are quickly filled with you, so happy that he thinks you might burst into confetti.
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you since Atsumu arrived earlier.” you squeeze him tight, and when you pull back, all Osamu can look at is your flushed cheeks.
“Y/N, I—” he starts, but you spot the bouquet in his arms.
“You got me flowers?” you ask, teasing smile playing on your lips. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever given me any. Where’s Osamu and what have you done to my best friend?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Osamu says carelessly, practically shoving them at you. “Someone was giving them out on the street, so I figured you know—”
You give him a knowing smile, and god, Osamu wants so badly to just get his confession over and done with; he doesn’t know how much longer he can go with this push and pull things you two have going on.
You cradle the flower in your arms, and you look so happy that he can’t help but beam back at you. As you look at the flowers, Osamu can’t help but be reminded of the red-stained roses he just saw.
You wouldn’t. Osamu knows you well; you wouldn’t.
You’re about to say something, when someone calls your name, gesturing for you to come up to the front. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
You walk up to the front, still clutching at the flowers and clear your throat. “Hello everyone, it’s a pleasure to see you all here. I’d like to take some time to draw your attention to my work. It’s called, Hanahaki, love in decay.”
“As you all may know already, Hanahaki is a taboo subject in our society today. I know a handful of people who have gotten it, but we all suffer in silence. We all suffer in shame. But I don’t think we have to,” You say, empathy coating your words. You gesture to your work behind you, starting the first lone petal.
“The first petal you cough is only the beginning. And the very discovery of it marks the start of loneliness and shame. You hide it,” you swallow, “because at first you don’t believe it. At first you want to believe that they can love you back.”
You move on to the next one. “But then, the petals keep coming. And that’s when it hurts, it’s painful to see that something so beautiful and pure as love can signify a devastating truth. But you still cling onto hope, even as your body weakens. Even when you struggle to come up with lies believable enough so people don’t ask questions. You cling onto that hope until your petals start coming out stained with blood.”
You point at the picture, to a petal fully red, “And that’s when you ask yourself: what do you love more? What is worth more? Your life, or the person you love who doesn’t love you back? Should you get the surgery to remove the flower by its roots, or do you die waiting to be loved back?”
An unknown voice in the crowd speaks, “Is this piece telling the viewer to get the surgery? To remove the flower even if it erases all of this person’s love, just so they can live again?”
“That’s up to you to decide; it’s open to your own interpretation.”
Another voice asks, “Does this piece stem from your own personal experiences?”
You glance at Osamu so briefly he thinks he’s imagined it. There’s a small pause before you answer, and Osamu feels a vice grip on his throat. “Yes. It does.”
Osamu’s chest feels constricted. There’s an ache there, sitting right above his heart that it’s hard to do anything but process the pain.
He needs a moment. He wants to walk away for a minute, to get air, to get something rushing back into his lungs.
But he doesn’t get to, because someone else asks: “Of all the flowers, why the rose?”
“Because,” you smile, “it was the favourite flower of someone I loved.”
The ache in his chest moves, pushing its way up his throat and this time, he really can’t breathe, the passage of his throat narrowing with every second.
He gasps, loud enough that everyone in the crowd turns around to face him, your eyes finding him quickly. He can see panic in your eyes.
Osamu’s vision starts to blur, his knees weakening until he feels himself falling to the ground, hands in front of him. He sees a sea of red, you pushing through the crowd to get to him, dropping the bouquet in your haste to get to him.
He coughs and coughs and coughs until his throat feels like it’s been ripped out. Tears stream down his face as he clutches at his throat, and you grab him by the shoulders, worried eyes searching his face.
Osamu hears you calling for a paramedic, but he coughs again, harsher this time, until he feels something in his throat, caught around his tongue. He reaches up with his hand to pull it out.
There, slick with saliva, is a bright pink petal of a tulip.
hanahaki disease - a fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals (often a flower that symbolises the object of their affections) when they suffer from one-sided love.
even if the love is actually requited, if the other person doesn’t make it known, the disease persists. it can be cured through confession, or surgical removal, though the latter causes romantic feelings to be removed altogether.
MEMORIES.
pairing:oikawa tooru x gn! reader
genre:angst, heartbreak
cw:hints at a past toxic/unhealthy relationship, might contain errors
wc:tbc
an:i wrote this half asleep
you‘ve dreaded for this moment to come.
you‘ve tried to drag it out for as long as you possibly could have. but one can only do so much when something, had already been written down on your faith book. all that dodging goes down the drain when his brown eyes look you up and down while he stands by the door way.
“hey.”
“oh,”
just by looking at him, you can feel all the memories hit you like a truck. all the things you‘ve done just to drag this moment for so long, falls straight to that hole, dragging you by your ankles.
“how‘re ya?” he smiles so sweetly as if he had not just broken your heart merely months ago, as if he hadn‘t ripped it into shreds right before your very eyes, speaking so casually as if he had not just left you there as a broken piece.
“what’re you doing here, oikawa?” you hate that you easily allowed him to walk into your life again just by ringing your doorbell. you hate how easy it is for him to walk back into your life and act so casually. you hate how easy it is for him to see your protective barriers dissolve into thin just because you saw him.
in short, you hate him.
“i just want to talk.” oh, there he goes again, seducing you with his tongue as he did before. those words of his, they fall so easily from his lips. whether he knows it or not, it surely makes an impact on you. an impact you wish would not sway you.
“i don‘t want to. goodbye.” is your stern reply before you shut the door out. there is no desire in you, nor does you brain allow you to talk to him. however your heart, it so deeply wants it, no matter how irrational it may seem.
and as if he had heard your heart‘s desire, he sets his foot between the frame and the shutter. his hand on the wooden door as he looks at you with his pleading brown eyes.
“please,” he pleads. you hate it. “i‘ve— i‘ve got no one else to walk to. you‘re the only one i‘ve got left. i— i can‘t hold it in anymore.”
you hate him.
you hate this situation.
you hate it all.
you hate it so much because you allow him to walk into your home with his face falling into the crook of his neck. you swallow thickly as you shut the door with your foot, feeling his tears fall unto your skin as his hands clutch your waist ever so tightly; like you‘d run away if he doesn‘t.
as you lead him to the kitchen with his sobs falling past his lips, you also feel your tears brim your eyes. all your efforts are gone, simple as that, within the blink of an eye, gone as if it had never existed in the first place. you tried so hard to move on. for months and months on end, actively distracting yourself so hard to get over him.
it was stupid of you to think you‘re actually over him when you know deep inside you‘d let him so easily walk back into your life like this.
“i can‘t do this anymore, (y/n)!” he cries. a bottle of wine in his hand as he curls himself on the corner. you wish to yell ’so can‘t i!’ at him as well, but you can‘t. if you do so, you feel like you‘d break your fragile heart even more.
time passes just like that. and now it‘s quarter past three. you‘re intoxicated, and so is he. he‘s a sobbing mess, and you‘re no better.
“c— can‘t we just go back to the way it was? before.. before it was all so complicated..?” he cries, looking at you with pleading eyes. with those words, you only feel more tears bleed from your eyes as your skin grows warmer.
“tooru—” you stutter, clenching your fists as you wrap your hands around yourself. “we- we can‘t keep doing this, okay? i— i can‘t be your friend, we— i— we‘ve just gone through so much! and i feel that if we become friends again, it would just through away everything we had had. everything we kept so sacredly would be nothing.”
“no! i— we can try again—!”
“no we can‘t!” you finally exclaim. fat tears are dripping harshly from your eyes as you put your hands on your head, clenching the roots of your hair tightly. “no matter how hard we fucking try it‘s never going to work out! the ending will always be the same because— for fuck sake— you and i were never meant to be in the first place!”
as much as it hurts you to say so, you have to say it. the truth hurts, and it always will.
“so please… don‘t make it harder than it already is. we can‘t keep doing this anymore, tooru.” you mumble through your sobs and he looks at you with his tears already down his neck, flowing harshly like a river.
silence wallows you both. only the sounds of tears, sniffles, and sobs echo throughout the room. the smell of heartbreak reeks harshly in the air, evading the once cool air, causing it to go stuffy.
“i guess— i guess we‘re never going to be it, huh?” he bitterly says to himself, looking at the ground as he swallows hard. “there really is no going anywhere with what he had, right?” he grits through his teeth, looking up and swallowing as he holds back the sobs stuck in his throat.
“tell me, did me showing up ruin things for you?” it seems like he has become sober, as if all the alcohol he had downed went out of his body. “because when i came here, i couldn‘t get a grip on myself. i wanted to maybe see, see if you would still take me in. i wore the things you like so that i‘d make even the slightest appeal. but i guess— i guess it won‘t do shit.” his voice falters with every line due to the emotions stuck on his throat.
you have no idea as to what you should say, because in truth, you‘re no better than he is. there is not a single bone in your body that‘s not telling you to run to back to him, but your mind seems to freeze your movements, saving you from the heartache.
“we- we never really went anywhere else, tooru.” you shakily sigh, looking down at him as you bite your lower lip. “so, we shouldn‘t be eachother‘s reason as to why we can‘t fall in love with someone else.”
you feel like dying as he nods, showing that he‘s agreeing. you don‘t want him to agree. no matter how much it hurt you and traumatized you to be with him, you can‘t just put him in the back of your head to be eventually forgotten.
“if— if this is then— let me— i—” he can‘t even comprehend a proper sentence. hands in his hair as he bawls his eyes out right there. you don‘t even notice it, when he runs up to you and hugs you so tightly. his hands are on your waist as he cries on to you, head above yours as he smells the familiar smell of your shampoo, hugging you tightly as he kisses your head. “i— i‘m sorry. we— i broke us off. i‘m sorry i broke your heart. but i can‘t let you go. my heart leads to you all the time, no matter where i am.”
“tooru—”
“but if me clinging unto you will hurt you more, then so be it.” he sadly whispers, giving you one last squeeze as he kisses your forehead lovingly, tears damping you up. “i won‘t drag this further. i‘ll set you free, set me in the past, and move on. i‘ll just take what i have left here so that you move on and forget about me.”
you can‘t even respond, unable to move as he walks past you, straight to your room. it breaks your heart worse, hearing him rummage through the closet you both once shared. it‘d been left untouched, you left it be. maybe because a part of you really hoped to let him back in. yet it with the turn of events, it won‘t happen anymore.
you stand there for as long as he finishes. he finally has everything he owns. the book you both read, the stuffed toy of him that he gave you, his highschool jersey that you loved so much, the shoes he owns that matches with yours, and lastly, the photo album you had made for him.
“i— i‘ve got it all.” he whispers, looking down as he clenches his full hands hard. “i‘m— going. i won‘t hurt you any longer.” his eyes never failed to meet yours as he speaks and he doesn‘t dare take a step towards you, in fear that if he does, then maybe he won‘t be able to leave after all.
“so maybe, this is goodbye.” he chuckles grimly with a forced smile, yet you cannot seem to return to him. not the chuckle. not the bitter smile. yet instead, the goodbye.
as the old saying goes, saying goodbye entails that you‘ll never see them ever again. you can‘t even bring yourself to speak as he walks away with a heavy heart, sobbing quietly before the door closes so loudly yet so quietly behind him. silence envelopes you as you fall to the ground before loud wails of heartbreak come from you.
now that he‘s gone, said his goodbye, he‘s no longer coming back, and now you‘ll be forced to let him stay merely in your memories.
content belongs to @shisnhou on tumblr! do not repost, copy, use, or modify!
RISES THE MOON.||suna rintaro
suna rintaro is tired.
and so are you.
you two stepped into the cramped train, coming from the airport after a very long flight. though you both opted to take a taxi, the queue for the taxi was way worse than the waiting time for the cramped train.
“i‘m tired.” you mumble to your boyfriend, looking up at him with your eyes attempting to blink the sleep away.
“me too angel.” he whispers, bending down as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
with suna‘s right hand, he holds the luggage you both brought. it‘s a large black suitcase, and his back pack is on top of it, he holds it very securely. meanwhile his left is laid at the small of your back, kept there to hold you close, and to fend off predators.
“i feel like i can sleep standing up.” you say with a chuckle, but it‘s not a joke. with the fatigue from the long flight, the cramped train, and jet lag: you do believe you can sleep like this.
“that sucks.” suna mumbles, as though he doesn‘t care. but his eyes are already looking around the train for free seats, or seats that will be freed with the next stop. “we‘re going to be here for another hour or so,”
“i know.” you mumble into his chest, filling your senses with his smell, rather than the smell of the train that‘s making you feel worse. “just wanna sleep.” you add further.
suna looks at you, his hand moving to the back of your head, running his fingers through your scalp and softly caressing you. his lips then press another kiss to your forehead.
“you can lean on me and sleep, i‘ll hold you.” he whispers to you, his hands moving back to the small of your back. his hand pats your skin softly, lulling you to sleep.
“but you‘re tired too,” you softly say into his chest, worried for him. but he simply shakes his head and presses one more kiss, but this time to your temple.
“it‘s okay, i can sleep at home.” he assures you, his hands moving up and down your back for comfort. usually, you‘d protest more, but due to your fatigue, you simply nod.
suna watches you softly, smiling to himself before he presses one last kiss to your forehead. he himself might be tired, but he would rather be standing there sleepy and looking out for you, rather than to let you stand there tired with him.
because he, no matter what happens, suna rintaro promises he will always look after you.
this is painfully unedited.
‣‣‣RUN2U !!nine
“ no matter who you are, over and over
it’s okay if i get hurt, i’ll run to you „
‣series masterlist | next
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‣‣‣RUN2U !!eight
“ no matter who you are, over and over
it’s okay if i get hurt, i’ll run to you „
a/n. hiii!! i’m so sorry for being gone for so long!! i just kinda got stuck and had no type of motivation to post on here at all. i’ll be back to updating regularly now hopefully <3 also!! if you asked to be on the taglist and i didn’t add you, pls let me know!
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‣‣‣RUN2U !!seven
“ no matter who you are, over and over
it’s okay if i get hurt, i’ll run to you „
a/n. hiii!! i’m back, finally! thank you to everyone who was patient and waited! i was really struggling lol. i meant to get this chapter out yesterday, but i’ve been really tired honestly. lots is osamu in this chapter, he isn’t so terrible yall!! but anyways, enjoy this chapter! <3
taglist.@sad-b-tch@90s-belladonna@highhjime@sadcrxissant@szna@namyari@bah1e@r-xochitl@shigamiryuk@gonsbiggestfan@alienvarmint@sugaslilsugabby@vv3nti@lundabean@hyuckscore@kozu-chan@katsuera@cybrinx@lilith412426@raetaro@akaashis-wife@ahnneyong@haikyutiehoe@sunarintarouswhore@rntrsuna@tojiyes@jubileelineeee@loveinhaikyuu@evening-latte@polaroidnana@ilcrona@cerealfrdinner797@p2y90k@riceballsandanime
‣‣‣RUN2U !!six
“ no matter who you are, over and over
it’s okay if i get hurt, i’ll run to you „
the house was eerily quiet. yachi could probably hear the sound of your heart thumping from across the apartment. any attempt at calming yourself would just resort to your heart beating even faster.
you didn’t really know why you were so nervous. it was just suna you were talking to. over the past few weeks the two of you had become close, and fast. though, nearly all of your communication had been through texts with the occasional voice message thrown in, never phone calls. what were you even gonna say to him? what was he gonna talk to you about? was this even appropriate? it’s not like it’s easy to get any advice on your situation. hell, you didn’t even know if there was a situation anyways.
after five minutes or so, you finally got the courage to press the call button.
“hello?” the sound of his voice nearly made you jump out of your skin. you knew what he sounded like. you heard his voice countless times. why now was your heart fluttering. “not gonna lie, i thought you got scared and chickened out” the slight chuckle in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. he was amused, obviously.
“i’ll be honest, i didn’t think this through fully” you admitted bashfully. him agreeing really didn’t cross your mind. the idea popped into your head and without a second thought you texted him. if you had actually thought about it you most definitely would’ve chickened out. though, your logical thinking seems to go out the window whenever you talk to him.
there was a bit of shuffling in the background before suna replied again, “you? not thinking things through fully? no way” he replied sarcastically, something you learned he likes to do a lot. “but why are you awake anyways? you’re an early bird.”
another thing you’ve learned about him is that he knows just how to get you to say what’s on your mind. you knew your friends had good intentions, but they often treat you like a child. things you say don’t normally get taken seriously. sometimes you feel like they don’t listen at all, only hear what they want to hear just so they can tell you to “be careful.” suna however, he listens to you. he doesn’t undermine your feelings and he actually offers useful help. it’s helped you in the last few weeks.
you knew he would listen to you, but you couldn’t go to suna with all of your problems. especially not the problems you’re having with his best friend.
your friends are done hearing about osama. they don’t like him and they don’t think you should be with him. the only advice they’ll offer to you about him is to cut him off, and you’ve thought about that. a lot. you also really care about osamu. he hasn’t been the best boyfriend in the past, but he also hasn’t been the worst. you love him, you just don’t know if you’re in love with him anymore.
and that sucks because he’s trying really hard for you.
“oh, it’s about osamu right?” by now suna knows that you only hesitate when it comes to osamu. he’s not so different from you though, he doesn’t really like to bring him up either.
anytime he thinks about him a wave of guilt hits up. the two of you haven’t done anything but playfully flirt, but it still feels wrong. suna knows something like this would hurt osamu. that’s why he was hesitant to even pick up the phone. imagine how bad i’d be, getting caught talking to your best friend’s kinda ex at two in the morning. it’s a bad look. how would he even explain it? the last thing he’d want to do is hurt his friend, one of the only people that’s there for him. is he really willing to risk that for a bit of flirting with you? would osamu really be that upset over it?
“yeah. he and i went out today and i just wasn’t feeling it” you told him quietly, interrupting his train of thoughts.
“we had this discussion that has me thinking: oh! maybe we shouldn’t be together” you said, frustrated that you were still stuck on the events from earlier. you tried to move on, you really did, but for some reason your mind kept bringing you back to that one conversation.
“what was the discussion?”
“it’s silly.. i honestly shouldn’t even be upset” suna could almost hear the frown on your lips. he wishes he could see it. “osamu said he doesn’t wanna get married. he thinks weddings are a waste” you bit down on your lip.
whenever you talked to osamu about being in a relationship, it was always long term. talks about living together, growing old, and even kids. but oddly enough, the two of you have never talked about marriage. well not until that convo happened. osamu doesn’t want to get married, he’s got a negative view on it and doesn’t plan on changing his mind. you on the other hand, enjoy the idea of marriage. to you, it’s a beautiful celebration of love. you’ve always envisioned yourself getting married to him. sadly, the thought probably doesn’t cross his mind as much as it does in yours.
“you want to get married, right?” he asked and you hummed in response. “then, that’s not silly at all,” he spoke again after a few seconds. “if getting married is something you want in life.. be with someone who also wants it. you shouldn’t have to live your life longing for something you could’ve had” another wave of guilt washed over him. he knew how much osamu loves you, yet here he is, encouraging you to find someone else. “but you know, you could always talk to your partner and work on it together. you’ve got to compromise sometimes right?”
“you’re right, i should’ve just talked to him about it instead of silently being upset” you pressed your lips together, trying to piece together what he told you. “but, since we’ve got to compromise and all, doesn’t that mean i should as well?” you questioned.
suna laughed a bit. it made you smile, you definitely wanted to hear it more often. “shit, you’re right. i told you that i don’t really know what i’m saying. so just ignore that last part and focus on the first one” he said. “you should be with someone who wants the same things as you in life, long term speaking of course.”
“hmm, do you want to get married suna?” you decided you were done with the problem talk and switch to something more fun. you knew he’d reply with some corny pick up line. they never failed to make you laugh.
“if i get to marry you, then yes,” and if your heart didn’t speed up for that, his next line definitely got you going. “call me rin, please?”
you nodded with a grin , even though he couldn’t see you. “should we start planning the wedding then, rin? do you wanna be added to my wedding pinterest board?” you giggled, now kicking your feet like a schoolgirl with a crush.
him responding “what the hell is pinterest?” only made you crack up even more.
a/n. sorry for all the delays! i wont be updating for the next few days so this is all i’m leaving everyone with? </3. hope you all enjoy the chapter!
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‣‣‣RUN2U !!five
“ no matter who you are, over and over
it’s okay if i get hurt, i’ll run to you „
taglist.@sad-b-tch@90s-belladonna@highhjime@sadcrxissant@szna@namyari@bah1e@r-xochitl@shigamiryuk@gonsbiggestfan@alienvarmint@sugaslilsugabby@r4tg0rl@lundabean@hyuckscore@kozu-chan@amarinthe@cybrinx@lilith412426@raetaro@akaashis-wife@ahnneyong@haikyutiehoe@sunarintarouswhore@rntrsuna@tojiyes@jubileelineee
‣‣‣RUN2U !!four
“ no matter who you are, over and over
it’s okay if i get hurt, i’ll run to you „
a/n. hiii, i hope you all like this au so far. i’m gonna be going on a trip later this week so i’ll be taking a little break from posting chapters probably. thursday will be the last update before my trip. also please check out loona’s intro performance for queendom!! thank uu <3
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‣‣‣RUN2U!!three
“ no matter who you are, over and over
it’s okay if i get hurt, i’ll run to you „
taglist.@sad-b-tch@90s-belladonna@highhjime@sadcrxissant@szna@namyari@bah1e@r-xochitl@shigamiryuk@gonsbiggestfan@alienvarmint@sugaslilsugabby@r4tg0rl@lundabean@hyuckscore@kozu-chan@amarinthe@cybrinx@lilith412426@raetaro@akaashis-wife@ahnneyong@haikyutiehoe
a loving feeling
pairing: suna rintaro x reader
warnings: bad writing, cheating, angst, both y/n and rin aren’t that good of people in this :(
a/n:in my angsty era again </3 reposting bc my tags weren’t working. anways this was inspired by (you guessed it) another mitski song! a loving feeling by mitski.
what do you do with a loving feeling?
or more importantly, what do you do with a loving feeling that comes from suna rintaro?
nowadays, you tend to ask yourself that question more often — if not everyday. it’s not as if you’re not used to feeling loved, you are, but almost all the time it’s platonic. and you’re starting to think that’s the problem.
because you know you’re never gonna get used to this sight in front of you.
for everyone else around you, the sight may be a pleasant, endearing, and might even put a smile to elderly couples’ faces as they reminisce about their own youthful days. but to you, it just leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
because in front of you is suna rintaro with the girl he’s in love with. staring into her eyes deeply as she does the same to him, hand in hand and nuzzling their noses. that girl isn’t you. and that’s the problem.
and although it shouldn’t be a problem for you, since you said it was okay for him to pursue her, it is, because here you are at his and her engagement party, with a gift in your hand and a (fake) smile on your face for the ‘newest fiancés in town.’
it’s pitiful, really.
you should be happy for him. after all, he’s with the girl he loves so deeply, even if that girl isn’t you. you promised him that you’d eventually find your own happiness even if that means she wouldn’t be the root of it anymore. (if anything, he’s probably caused you more heart aches than happiness). besides, the relationship between the two of you (as rintaro would say even though you know it wasn’t true) was platonic. but shouldn’t your feelings be taken seriously as well?
honestly. suna rintaro is quite bold, considering the fact that he willingly invited you to his engagement party. you figured he might just be some sort of sadist. but does that make you a masochist for actually attending it?
for starters, you and rintaro have been in a, well — situationship. it started 6 months ago when him and his girlfriend (now fiance) got into a huge fight. it’s not like you were strangers before that, in fact, you both were childhood friends who stuck with each other through thick and thin.
the only problem with that was you were so stupidly in love with him, and you have been ever since you were kids. the second the argument went down, you were the first person he told and one thing led to another.
now of course, you couldn’t blame rintaro for only making the love you had for him ten times stronger once the situationship started, he was in the wrong for initiating the idea, but you were more wrong for going with it knowing that the feelings you had for him would only grow.
and recently, you noticed him acting strange. ignoring your calls, texting back extremely late, and — inviting you to hisengagement party?
you honestly just needed closure. if he wanted what the two of you had to end, then all he had to do was say so. it wasn’t fair that you had to find out he felt that way through an invitation from the mail.
which is why you impulsively walk to the 6′3 man stating, “we need to talk.”
rintaro’s previous smiling face is completely wiped off, visibly paling with each passing second when he sees the complete seriousness in your face.
his fiancé doesn’t notice, too enraptured by a conversation she’s having with one of her friends. you’re so used to receiving such cold treatment from rintaro in public that you don’t even flinch at his reaction. you knew that rintaro only showed his love for you in private.
whatever the case is, rintaro still decides to follow you.
“hey,” he swallows harshly, trying his best to maintain a neutral, “you wanted to talk?”
it gives you whiplash — the suna rintaro you know, the one you fell in love with, the down-to-earth and always calm rintaro is here standing in front of you like he’s a stranger. nothing about his facial expression currently says calm or down-to-earth.
“i just want closure, rintaro. i promise i’m not trying to ruin your relationship or whatever you think i’m plotting right now.”
his brows raise, as if what you’re saying makes no sense whatsoever, “what makes you think that?”
“that look on your face,” you scoff playfully, crossing your arms together “god, you’re looking at me like i’m some crazy ex. it’s just me, remember?”
he stares at you for a few seconds, mouth opening as if he’s about to argue but then closes his mouth with a sigh. at the gesture, you let out a laugh and suna could only do the same.
“so i’m guessing this is over?”
“i’m really sorry,” he says sheepishly, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.
“don’t be,” grinning, (or rather, forcing one,) you hand him the gift bag you brought before taking a deep breath, “don’t cheat on her anymore, rintaro.”
he takes the bag, nodding his head once again before smiling, “i won’t.”
for months you’ve always wondered what you should’ve done with the loving feelings suna rintaro has given you. but in all honesty, you’re only starting to think that you should’ve thrown that loving feeling away from the start.
<.
☼ — fluff ☁︎ — angst ☾ — smut ☗ — smau
⿻ file name | kita shinsuke
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⿻ file name | aran ojiro
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⿻ file name | suna rintaro
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⿻file name | miya atsumu
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⿻ file name | sawamura daichi
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⿻ file name | azumane asahi
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⿻ file name | yamaguchi tadashi
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