You Look Like Youve Seen A Ghost

you look like you’ve seen a ghost

a ghostface au

characters: atsumu and reader; post! timeskip

wc: 2.1k

warnings: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS Y’ALL. THIS IS THE DARKEST THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN SO PLEASE PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! use of pet names such as ‘doll’ and ‘my love’, slightly suggestive early on in the fic but nothing too explicit, mentions of reader having to use a safe word, there is a knife involved so there will be graphic content since the knife is used to harm reader, stabbing, harming, chasing, overpowering, blood, violence, death; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! this is heavily ooc for atsumu

a/n:  i debated for a long time whether i’d post this or not, so i just hope people heed my warnings. this is loosely based off of the scream movies, which is why it’s being posted the day of the official release of scream 5! i love horror movies y’all that’s why i felt like writing this. also i watched scream 5 yesterday since there was a showing with a live q&a after the movie, and y’all david arquette was so giggly it warmed my heart! not proofread! and thank you @haikyutiehoe​ for beta reading <3

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“It’s a matter of whether ‘that moment’ exists for you or not…If you experience that moment, it’ll really get you hooked on volleyball.” | Bokuto Kōtarō requested by @reddriot​

My entry for @augustinewrites’s Simple Pleasures collab! Chaos corner, this one’s for you 💝

Miya Osamu knows better than most that life is volatile and sometimes unkind - and more than often inopportune. He knows because he grew up with the embodiment of life, wearing a face that looked exactly like his.

At 7pm, standing in the doorway of your shared room, he can’t help but wonder when he met the other side of life; the side that was more like himself than Atsumu. Because life wasn’t always about crashing head-first into the worst decisions. Sometimes it was this:

Sometimes it was watching you cuddle your baby while he does the dishes and prepares the milk bottle. Sometimes it’s the quiet into which you speak promises to the Mini Miya you’ve created. Sometimes, it was complete wonder and awe at your messy ponytail and three-day-old T-shirt - and how it’s still one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen in his twenty-odd years of life.

Sometimes it was reveling in the fact that you existed.

You’ve saved his life more than once, he thinks. When no one else believed in Onigiri Miya, you did. When everyone else asked after Atsumu and never Osamu, you were the one whose lips always held his name.

Osamu. A name he used to resent. It was too often followed by “and Atsumu,” reminding him that he always coexisted with another half. Now, he doesn’t mind. It’s followed by “my dear,” “my love,” and the like.

Sometimes, life was laying next to you, waiting until the baby was burped and fed. Life was his baby on his chest, napping or curling her tiny, tiny fingers around his own. Life was you, pressed into his side, stroking the baby’s back and telling him your life story with a baby voice to entertain both members of your tiny family.

He doesn’t know how or when he got here. He doesn’t know what accident of the universe granted him this blessing - not that he’s complaining.

“Samu?”

He hums, glancing downward to see if Mini Miya was asleep yet.

“Thanks.”

“For what?” It can’t be the dishes. He does those all the time.

“For staying.”

Two words, but he knows what they mean to you. A lot. Because you didn’t trust easily, and too many people had given up before you were ready to hand them your heart. But not Miya Osamu. Miya Osamu was thankful to have you in his life in any capacity. He didn’t care how long you made him wait, because waiting was half the fun.

It was existence with you, either way, and that’s all he’s ever wanted. That’s all he ever hopes to do for the rest of his life.

“You can’t get rid of me,” he murmurs. “Ever.”

It's Cursed Pic Tuesday

Love cursed pic tuesday even tho it’s Wednesday today

distant lovers

characters: suna, gn! reader

wc: 968

warnings: none, just breakup angst

a/n: inspired by this song 🤸🏻‍♀️

“esta tarde no pasa nada, no me puedo olvidar de ella, hace un mes que la estoy pensando, y no se si de mí se acuerda”

“this evening is uneventful, i can’t forget about her, it’s been a month since i’ve been thinking of her, and i’m unsure if she thinks of me”

Photos of the two of you still line the walls; they’re in the hallway, bedroom, living room, any spot with room for a photo had one. They were reminders, ugly ones at that, however Suna couldn’t bring himself to take them down. It’s the only physical proof he had of you…photos that prove you existed, that perhaps you did exist outside of Suna’s mind. That maybe…maybe you weren’t made up, and everything you both lived through together was real. That’s just it though…it was.

Past tense.

Past meaning you’re no longer here, which makes it exceedingly difficult for Suna to continue reminding himself you once loved him. If only you still did love him, if only you were still here. At home. Home. His apartment stopped feeling like home the moment you left, the minute you were no longer with him…the second you stopped loving him.

All he can do is stare at the photos, despite the constant ache in his chest, despite the tears that brim in his eyes as soon as his eyes land on your smile, they remind him of the wonderful memories you both share.

He’s not sure when everything changed, if he’s honest. When he stopped being enough. When you got bored and sought out something else he couldn’t give you. He would’ve given you the world, all you had to do was ask. Maybe that’s it though. Maybe he shouldn’t have waited, maybe he should’ve offered it to you first, should’ve placed possibilities onto a table so you knew he would do anything for you. Because he would. He should’ve.

He should’ve followed you to the airport. Should’ve stopped you before it was too late. He had seen the ticket after you had purchased it without him knowing…a one-way ticket. If only he had been able to calm himself long enough to check where you were headed, if only he hadn’t let his tears get in the way. But he couldn’t stop the shaking of his hands at the time, and instead took it out on you. Argued with you for who knows how long about who knows what. He just needed to let out his frustrations.

He was frustrated because he knew that every second that went by he was losing you. That every passing second ticked closer to your departure. If only he had checked the time of your flight. He would’ve seen that you were leaving while he was going to be out of the house. He would be smack in the middle of practice, far too concerned with a practice match or penalty drills, too busy to think about you.

So you took advantage of Suna being gone. Packed your bags in an awful silence, bottom lip wobbling as you tried not to cry. Because to your credit, you did love him. Once. There once was a time where he plagued your mind, and you felt light on your feet at the mere thought of him. When a kiss from him on your cheek would make your heart beat erratically. When holding his hand made you incredibly nervous. When you envisioned a future with him.

That future didn’t exist anymore. At least…not with Suna. It wasn’t his fault. Unfortunately, things just didn’t pan out the way you both had hoped. If Suna were to ask you when you stopped loving him, you wouldn’t know how to respond. There wasn’t one specific moment. It just…happened.

After a while, his kisses didn’t make you feel lightheaded anymore. You no longer forgot how to breathe when he looked at you, completely enamored. And eventually, you dreaded coming home. So you did what you thought was best, which was leave while Suna was out.

You couldn’t face him because you knew what he’d ask, maybe not word per word, but you had a clue about what his questions could’ve been.

Why don’t you love me anymore?

Was it something I said?

Was it something I did?

Was it something I didn’t do?

And worst of all. When did you stop loving me?

You couldn’t face him. It hurt too much to even think of Suna hurting this way; you just couldn’t see the dejection and hurt in his eyes. The best thing you could do was leave behind a letter.

And you did…you placed it in the middle of the table, leaning against a vase with wilted flowers that neither of you bothered changing. You left not long after that.

That was a month ago.

Suna’s friends tell him to get out of his apartment, take a walk in the cool air for a clear head. But he doesn’t want to clear his head, he’s afraid of forgetting you. He knows he should move on. You suggested in your letter he go after the girl he had liked before you. That you had a feeling the aforementioned girl still liked him. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t move on.

He’s holding out for your return. Despite knowing your ticket was for a plane leaving Japan, he was still holding out. He had already waited a month, no matter how taxing it was…he waited. He thinks of you every morning, when he’s in between being awake and being lulled back to sleep, when his mind is still foggy, he thinks of you. And he can almost trick himself into thinking you’re beside him. He’ll stretch an arm out, hand searching for your warmth. When he’s met with a cold bedsheet it all comes flooding back…coming home to an empty apartment, lights off and a sick, empty feeling. Suddenly, his apartment felt too big, too spacious.

It’s felt that way ever since. But no matter what transpired between you two, no matter what hell you’ve put him through, he’ll wait for you…with arms wide open.

Dad!HQ x Valentine’s Day and White Day

Characters: Osamu, Bokuto, Sakusa

wc: 2k

special thanks to the I tried-🌱 server and especially @bokkunkai for helping me ramble out my ideas for this one! part 2 featuring akaashi and tsukki with teenage daughters coming soon!

It’s Valentine’s Day, and in the world of dad!Haikyuu…

 Miya Osamu is cooking with his daughter in the morning. His little sous-chef is creating a masterpiece with his help – although, if doesn’t turn out as well as he usually makes it, he won’t be too upset. After all, his daughter has no one else to cook for, really, besides someone it Osamu’s immediate vicinity.

Sure, sometimes it’s for Akaashi-san or the MSBY team, but Osamu is always there. He will always eat her food and provide honest, positive feedback.

Hanako carefully packs everything into a bento box. The tamago is perfectly seasoned, if crookedly rolled. He’s helped her cut the little hotdogs into octopuses. The tangerine is arranged so the peeled slices form flower petals. The rice is shaped like little bear heads, and the kaarage is perfect (he’s already eaten one as a sample. He cooked that part, anyway, since Hanako is still too little to manage herself around that much oil).

She places both small hands on her hips, beaming proudly at her creation. “Thanks, Dad!”

Osamu closes the box for her, picking out a small piece of kaarage to eat right beforehand.

The indignant shout almost makes him drop his prize. Fumbling to keep the kaarage off the floor, he whirls around to face her. “Sweetie, what?”

With a pout that reminds him unfortunately of Atsumu, she says, “You can’t eat that, Dad. It’s not for you!”

“It’s… It’s not…?”

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