Distant Lovers

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.

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

Did you ever think you’d find yourself in a situation like this? No, not in the slightest. Writhing beneath Atsumu, wriggling in his firm grasp in a feeble attempt to slip away. His hands, warm and rough from callouses, held you close. There was no escaping. He had tossed the mask aside long ago, its empty eyes now mocking. Tears welled in your eyes while Atsumu’s glimmered with a craze you had never seen before, not even when he was dead set on winning a match.

“Atsumu, this isn’t funny anymore. Cut it out!” Your voice was hoarse from yelling, only you had been faking it for the most part, thinking Atsumu was just messing around and trying to scare you. Only when the very real, very sharp knife he pulled out from behind his back was held dangerously close to your jugular did it start to dawn on you. But by then he had already pinned you to the bed, and you remember his laugh had suddenly seemed more menacing, more daunting.

See, when you asked Atsumu to watch your all-time favorite slasher film with you, you didn’t think it’d come to this. So really, you’re to blame for your own death…and in a way, the fall of a famous volleyball player that would definitely end up in jail for brutally slaughtering his girlfriend. That is, if he was found guilty. Atsumu is as cunning as he is handsome, but most don’t see it. He hides it well under his boyish charm and dazzling smile. Besides, that accent gets him favors left and right. The judge would probably go weak at the knees and give Atsumu nothing more than a slap on the wrist if there just so happened to be enough evidence to take him to trial.

After having dated him for almost a year, you realized you had never watched the movie with him. You had mentioned it to him a couple of times before, but he never had the time to sit down and enjoy the movie with you. He was always busy, and though you knew that this is what comes with dating someone such as Atsumu, that didn’t mean you were any less bummed about it. So, when Atsumu went up to you one day during his off-season and asked you to put on the movie, you were excited to say the least. And he was hooked. You both ended up binging the rest of the movies until the early morning. You remember looking out the window and noticing the orange and pinkish hues in the sky after the movie marathon. You can almost hear the way he laughed then-an astonishing difference from the way he was laughing now.

And that’s where his fascination with Ghostface started. It was laughable really, because you had gone through this insane phase a few years prior. You remember how quickly you lost count on how many times you watched the first movie. You were just glad he was able to enjoy the movies you enjoy so much. So, when he came home one day with a Ghostface costume, you didn’t think much of it. You thought it was pretty neat actually since it wasn’t one of those cheap costumes. Who knew he’d end up taking it too far?

It started out subtle-the scaring. He’d put on the costume and hide in the hallway closet or under the bed. He’d jump out at you or grab your ankles, anything to get a reaction out of you. Of course, you’d scream because even after the countless number of times that he’d scared you half to death you’d still fall for it. You’d both laugh it off though, and more often than not it would lead to a heavy make out session on the closest surface. Not that you had a thing for the mask, more so you were always up for a quickie with Atsumu. Actually, you were up for anything so long as Atsumu was there. If he was having fun who were you to deny him of his harmless pranks?

To Atsumu this was a rush-chasing you was a rush. And he found himself loving the surge of adrenaline that coursed through his body as you screamed-however fake those screams may be. After a while, he’d find himself gripping you a little tighter, pulling your hair a little harder just to see you wince and suck in a breath of air as you whined about how he was too rough. And he wanted to be rougher, to see just what your limits were. Of course, you had a safe word, and you found yourself using it at an alarming rate. He wasn’t trying to please you anymore; he was trying to break you. He wanted to see how far you could bend until you snapped.

The increasing red flags should have been enough to get you to pack your bags. And you were ready to. You just wanted to have one conversation with Atsumu to talk about whatever it is he was feeling, and you hoped you’d both be able to work it out before you resorted to leaving. He promised he’d stop, and true to his word he did. He wrapped you around his finger and had you eating out of the palm of his hand. He let weeks go by, being on his best behavior. It was so sudden, so drastic you’d be lying if you said you weren’t concerned. But he had you so wonderfully wrapped up in a blanket of ignorance that when he brought up the mask again weeks later you played along. After all, Ghostface was your favorite slasher.

Oh, how you’d regret showing him the movie. And you do. You regret it more than you’ve ever regretted anything in your entire life. Because with the way Atsumu eyed you, with a look in his eyes you’d never seen before, his lips curling into the most godawful smile you’d ever witnessed, you knew if you didn’t run out of your shared apartment alive within the next few minutes you wouldn’t be walking out at all.

Atsumu tapped both of your cheeks with the tip of the knife, a mocking lilt to his voice as he repeated what you said. He dug the tip of the knife into your left cheek just enough to form a dimple. “Cut what out, love?”

His head was tilted, an almost innocent look in his eyes but you knew better. And as he hovered over you, dragging the knife along your neck and down to your stomach, you kneed him in the groin, pushing Atsumu off of you before making a run for your front door. Luckily your bedroom door had been left open, and as you ran down the hallway you heaved a sigh of relief as you welcomed the view of the front door.

However, Atsumu had all his bases covered. He had deadbolted the front door. When? Who knows. How you could have missed that is beyond you. Nonetheless, you jiggled the door knob, but of course the door didn’t budge. You continued to jiggle the door knob, desperately hoping the door would magically open. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loud that you almost missed that behind you, a slightly hunched over Atsumu was shaking the keys dangling from his fingertips. Your blood ran cold.

“What’s the matter, doll? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” And despite his slightly pained expression, you could hear the smugness in his voice and the slightest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips-a smirk that said he had won and you had lost.

You began to bang on the door, screaming out for help in hopes that the neighbors would hear you. And he laughed. A laugh so awful you couldn’t help but let out a sob. You turned around and pressed your back against the door. As long as you had your eyes on him you could defend yourself.

“So, what are ya’ gonna do now, love?” You shivered at the way the word love rolled off his tongue. What was once the sweetest of pet names now dripped with a hate you didn’t know he harbored; his tone laced with a venom you were sure could kill you. And as he stalked toward you, you decided to fight. Really because there was nothing else you could do. There was no use in letting him close the shortening gap between the two of you, and closing it yourself would surprise him and hopefully have him lose his balance, if only slightly.

So, you lunged at him once he was close enough to you. But just as Atsumu is cunning, he had been enamored with you. He knew you like the back of his hand, knew all of your tells and what the slightest of change in your expression meant. He knew what to watch out for. So, when you were mid-lunge and momentum ran its course, moving you forward no matter what you wanted to do, all he had to do was let you fall onto the knife. It was simple, really, and required little to no effort on his part.

You inhaled a ragged breath that sounded nothing like you, and the pain was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You held onto the hilt of the knife, hoping he wouldn’t pull it out. Your hands covered his own, and you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his, albeit was a little hard since you had to squint your eyes so you could hold a steady gaze. Or at least you hoped it was steady, you couldn’t really tell. Your mouth was gaping in a silent scream. Nothing was coming out and you just can’t seem to find your voice again. Tears fell freely as you desperately hoped he’d regain a semblance of sanity and call the ambulance, but he didn’t. He slowly pulled out the knife, and you felt an unfamiliar warmth run down your stomach. You knew it was your own blood, but you were too afraid to look.

You also couldn’t bring yourself to take your hands off of Atsumu. No matter how repulsed you were, his hands were the ones keeping you upright. You just couldn’t find the strength to fight against him.

“Atsumu please. Please just call the ambulance. Leave me here. I promise I won’t tell anyone; I swear!” You hoped you had gotten that across. You weren’t so sure if the yelling was in your head or if you had actually managed to speak above a soft whisper. One of the few things you’re absolutely sure about at the moment is that your throat feels like it’s been swallowing handfuls of sand.

Atsumu shook his head as if he were scolding a child. “Oh, my love. How right ya’ are ‘bout that. Of course, ya’ won’t tell anyone.” He grunted as he slid the knife back into the same wound, this time twisting it left and right. You screamed, but it sounded nothing like you. At least you think you screamed. You were positive you were having an out of body experience because you couldn’t figure what was real and what wasn’t; you were on the verge of blacking out. Your knees began to buckle, but Atsumu’s hold on you was firm. You weren’t going anywhere, but you wished he’d let you fall. Your head fell back as you were fighting to keep your vision clear. Everything seemed so hazy, and Atsumu looked like he was farther than he actually was.

“Ya’ know why ya’ won’t tell anyone?” He left the knife inside of you so he could grip the hair on the back of your neck to lift your head up. “Pay attention, doll.” He eyes scanned your face before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. His lips trailed up to the shell of your ear, and he repeated his question, this time barely above a whisper and with an edge in his tone that was no longer mockingly sweet. “Ya’ wanna know why ya’ won’t tell anyone?”

You knew Atsumu well enough to know he was expecting a response. So, with the bit of consciousness you had left, you gave him what he wanted by playing his little game. “Why?” You whispered.

Or at least you thought you whispered it.

You could feel the smirk against your ear, and all you could think of was how you wanted this to be over.

Atsumu let go of your head so he could pull the knife out once more. You didn’t have the energy to scream, all you could do was go limp in his hold. And the last words you heard were delivered as he landed the fatal blow.

“Because, my love, ya’ won’t be alive to tell anyone.”

hmmm. imagine dancing with oikawa tooru on your balcony, swaying with the wind and melting into each other’s touch as luz de día by los enanitos verdes plays. and he’s twirling you around, big smile on his face as he sings (dedicating it to you) y porque puedo mirar el cielo, brings you closer to him, besar tus manos, kisses your fingertips ever so softly, sentir tu cuerpo, decir tu nombre — he’s cupping your face, murmuring a te amo, mi vida into your lips

“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​

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…?”

Keep reading

It's Cursed Pic Tuesday

Love cursed pic tuesday even tho it’s Wednesday today