Ushijima Angst - Blog Posts

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: nothin’ much to say, except I like writing with an accent for Atsumu. That shit’s bomb. Enjoy!

Word count: 2339

Tetsurou Kuroo:

“Hey YN,”

He starts off so strong. His voice has that ever present lilt in it, like he’s trying to bait you closer. 

“I-” he breaks off into a breathless, short laugh, “-I’m not really sure why I called… I guess I was hoping to catch you before I went to practice but…”

He swallows, and you can almost imagine him rubbing the back of his neck. “But I guess I missed you. I mean–not like that.” He sputters. “Not that I don’t miss you! I do! I-”

Kuroo pauses, a bitter chuckle traveling through the phone. “God, I’m a fucking wreck. Did you know that? I’m a fucking trainwreck after us, and I can’t even pinpoint why.”

There’s shuffles in the background before the phone thumps, and Kuroo’s voice is distant but still audible. You figure he’s put you on speaker for whatever reason while finding a seat somewhere. He huffs as he settles in. 

“Sometimes I think it’s because of the way we ended things.” He sighs, tone growing thick like his throat is stuck with something. “I yelled at you, so loudly, and I’ll never forget that look on your face when you left. I relive it every night, you know that? Asking myself what I could have done better and whatnot.” A loud hiss, like he’s sucking on his bottom lip harshly. “What I could have said or done to make you stay.”

“And then it’s not even the breakup that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s those moments we used to have, those goddamn memories I’ve got seared in the back of my brain that I have to repress when someone even spins a goddamn pencil like you did.”

Another thump, and suddenly his voice is much louder than before, the phone pressed back against his ear. “That pillow, you know the one that’s got your perfume all fucking over it. I tried to throw it away yesterday.” He scoffs. “And that failed. So I woke up fucking cuddling it this morning, as if I didn’t already feel like a loser.”

“And I know you still have my sweatshirt,” he inhales then exhales deeply. “I don’t want it back. I can’t–please don’t give it back, I don’t want it. Consider it yours, or whatever. Maybe you’ve already gotten rid of it, I don’t know.” So wobbly. His voice has slowly grown shaky over the last few seconds. “Whatever.”

A long pause drags out for at least a minute, and the only thing that stops you from checking if he’s still on call is the short breaths that are barely audible. 

“Just,” he finally breaks the silence, voice cracking. “Please, I gotta know. For my sanity, please, do you miss me?... Miss us?”

“‘Cause God YN I miss every second of us.”

“One of the guys yesterday asked me what happened between us. I don’t even know why, I just got so mad so quick I wanted to sock him in the face for even bringing you up.” A quiet slap against his skin, like he’s brought up his hand to run it down his face. “I just… I had spent all day trying to keep you out of my head. I saw you in the halls that morning, but I know you didn’t see me–you had your head down reading that fucking book you love so much–and for the rest of the goddamn day I tried to keep you out of my head. And then he brought you up, and I just… God, I don’t even know, I just fucking lost it.”

“The coach sent me home after that, said I needed to clear my head. Not that it worked, ‘cause look where I am now.” He released a self-deprecating laugh.

“Sitting on the damned school steps all over again, crying like an idiot for who knows how long.”

A voice, distant and hesitant, calls out to him. “Kuroo.” It’s Kenma.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m coming, just give me a sec.” But he’s quiet all over again, maybe deep in thought.

But then you hear a ruffling of clothes and a small sniff. Kuroo clears his throat. “I-I have to go. I’ll… just–call me back. Please. I wanna hear your voice, I-... I miss your voice.”

Silence.

“I miss you.”

“I love you.”

Then he hangs up.

Wakatoshi Ushijima:

“YN.” As usual, his tone is deadpan and succinct. If he’s calling you, there’s a reason for it. 

“You’ve left some clothing at my house. Please let me know when you have time to pick it up. I’ll have it prepared for you.”

“There are also the gifts you’ve given me there as well. I don’t know if you want those back or not, so please let me know before your arrival so I can get those packed up as well.”

“Regarding the gifts I’ve given you, you can keep them. I will not be needing them back.”

“If... if you have the time, I would also like to talk to you. I feel we have some things to discuss regarding our breakup.” The line falls silent, but when you pull the phone back, the voicemail still says it has five minutes left.

“I do not like the way we ended things,” he speaks up after a minute has passed. “It was… you’re wrong. You were wrong.”

“You said I didn’t care about you, but you’re wrong. I do. You said I never think about you, never spare you any thoughts, but you’re wrong.”

“The truth is, I hate how distracting you are. I find it hard to focus on practice now. In games, I feel myself losing my edge. You’re always just there. My mind is always on you. So much that I don’t know how to stop it.”

“So when you said I never cared about you… I was frustrated at how wrong you were.” A scraping is heard, dull and barely audible. He’s gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw in what you’ve always recognized as a hint of his growing irritation. 

“How you can take over my mind and still say that I don’t ever spare you a minute of my time, it angers me. You’ve taken so much away from me, and then you go and say that I haven’t given you enough…”

“It’s not fair. I don’t accept it.”

“Tell me, YN. Have I taken over your thoughts the way you’ve taken over mine? Do I have you as wrapped around my finger as you do me?”

“Or have I just become one of those lovesick fools I’ve always despised, chasing after something they can never have?”

“I deserve to know, YN. You owe me that much.” There’s such certainty in his tone. It’s impossible to think of his words as anything else other than absolute truth. Speaking through your phone was a man not only desperately heartbroken, but also completely, utterly confused. To draw such an emotion out of a man like Ushijima…

“Tomorrow, before school, I will find you.” His words held no threat, softly spoken so as to only sound like a promise. “I want you to be honest with me tomorrow, so I can have some semblance of closure.” 

Once more he’s gone silent, as if waiting for your response. Every breath he takes now comes out as a huff more than an exhale. He’s so wound up by now you’re almost positive this attitude will drag on until your conversation tomorrow. 

“It’s what I deserve, YN. You can’t take away from me the one thing my mind has run on for months now and expect me not to want answers.” There’s a squeal of a chair against tile flooring, and a beat later you hear the rustling of clothes as he takes a seat.

“What more you want from me, I’m not quite sure. Yet, somehow, I still feel myself yearning to give it to you.”

“Tell me, YN, is that fair? You’ve taken yourself out of my life, and I still feel as though I’d do anything for you. Give anything for you.”

“At the very least, I must know if my actions were not in vain; if you feel my absence even a little bit in comparison to the hole you’ve left in me.”

“Did you really love me? You said it before you left that night, but if you did, then I don’t understand why you left. I need you to enlighten me, YN. I just don’t understand.”

A pause. “Goodbye, YN. I look forward to our talk tomorrow.”

Atsumu Miya:

“YNNN!” The shout of your name is so loud you yank the phone away from your ear in shock.

Hesitantly, you draw it closer when everything quiets down again. 

“Oh God, someone grab his phone!”

“Atsumu, hand it over now!”

“He’s calling her, isn’t he? Dumbass.”

However remote, you can still hear the groans of your ex’s teammates along with the dull thumping and buzzing of far-off music. You figure he had been at a friend’s house or maybe even a club, and he’d probably locked himself up somewhere like the bathroom with his phone in tow. 

There’s a slam, then a click followed by the muffled shouts of the voices you’d heard earlier. Then a gulp as Atsumu downs the rest of whatever alcoholic drink he somehow got his hands on before calling you.

“YN, how dare you!” Accusatory, and extremely slurred. He’s drunk off his ass, and his accent is so thick you struggle a bit to understand him. “Yer such a meanie for breakin’ my heart like that, darlin’!”

“All I ever wanted was to love you an’ give you the world; why’d ya hafta go an’ take it all away from me?”

Another gulp, and now he’s sniffling. “I just… I just don’t know why you did it. It was gonna be us two forever, darlin’. You said you’d never leave me. Why did ya have to…?”

“I know it’s hard for you to be alone for all that time, darlin’, an’ I ain’t gonna act like I never saw how you felt. But you said you could do it–you promised that ya'd do it for me.”

“What happened to all those promises? You said you loved me so many times, and now every time I think about you sayin’ those words, it hurts so bad. I know I’m gonna regret this later, I ain’t stupid, but I want you ta know that I’m broken now, darlin’, and it’s because a’ you.”

“The nights are so unbearable, YN. I can’t stand ‘em. You wouldn’t believe how cold that bed is without you in it. And yer fuckin’ pillow–goddamnit that thing–so many times now I thought a’ just throwin’ it out rather than smell it for one more second. That fuckin’ perfume ya always wear is just everywhere on that bed though, so I say to myself, ‘What’s the point? It’s still there no matter what I do.’ And do ya know what’s really sad?”

The slurring, the wobbling, the stuttering. At this point, he’s an incomprehensible mess. Long ago you’d heard a concerning bang, but that bang had caused the end of his unsteady footsteps so you figured he’d finally just collapsed to the ground. 

“Two days ago I took down all the pictures we got hung up all over the apartment. Every single one I took down and put ‘em all in a li’l pile on the couch. An’ on the coffee table I had this stupid trash bag, and I had this fuckin’ lighter in my hand. For an hour, I sat there, lookin’ at the first damned picture I took from that pile. The stupid lighter ran outta gas ‘bout halfway through, and I still didn’t put the picture down. It was like I was stuck lookin’ at us, at how good we were. So many times I asked myself what the hell went so wrong that you up and left me outta the blue.” A choked up laugh snuck through the speaker. “It was that picture of us when we graduated. I was holdin’ you in my arms and you were smilin’ and hangin’ onto me so tight and—fuck-” Atsumu broke off in a breathless whimper, a muted sob slipping through. 

After about a minute of silent weeping, he cleared his throat, though it was scratchy rough when he spoke again. “All those pictures–they’re back up on the wall, darlin’. Never did nothin’ with ‘em, never hid ‘em away.”

“I just… I just don’t wanna get rid of ‘em. And ya wanna know why? It’s the most pitiful thing yer ever gonna hear.” He heaves a shaky sigh. “It’s ‘cuz I keep hopin’ one a’ these days yer gonna show back up at our door, that li’l look of confusion on yer face when ya see I got rid a’ all our pictures together, and then you’ll get all sad and pouty and beg me to dig ‘em outta the trash for ya.”

“I’d do it. Ya know I would. I’d do anything for you.”

“S-so can you come back, darlin’? Please?”

“‘Cuz I need you, bad. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“That damned house is too quiet without you singin’ and dancin’ all over it. An’ I can’t ever figure out where you got those scented candles from–the ones that smell like yer perfume. I can’t find ‘em, and the ones you left behind, they’re all burnt out. All used up.”

“I miss you, darlin’. Fuck, I can’t stand another second without you.”

“Please, just come back to me. I need you.”

And in the background his friends have finally jimmied the door open. There’s a strangled cry as one of them tackles Atsumu to the ground, ripping the phone from his grasp. “Fuck, guys, look, he is calling her.”

“Oh, ‘Tsumu…”

And the call ends.

ding!

. . . ushijima wakatoshi. if you ever forget that you love me.

note. timeskip content + spoilers for the manga franchise ahead. inspired by a song that my lovely @yeonruco recommended, it's if you ever forget that you love me by isak danielson!

arguments with your husband were a rare occurrence.

but the chances of it not happening were not guaranteed when you sealed in your simple, intimate vows; this does not mean that you two didn’t make the effort and time to talk things through whenever exhaustion and workload made the retaliations blunt and evidently heated.

your husband, wakatoshi, was a patient man.

his patience could reach for miles and back, but there were just days when he felt so exhausted from volleyball practice that his attitude could come off as cold and blunt. you’ll be able to tell that he was not in the mood to argue further with you when he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he’ll then suggest that he’ll be sleeping on the guest bedroom—sleeping much earlier than he would on a normal day.

usually, your arguments simmer down after a day or two. though this one went on for literal weeks.

stubbornness clung onto the both of you, which was rare, not wanting to admit that they were in the wrong, even though both were to blame and could be considered to be in the wrong in this argument.

conversations were kept to a minimum, and still, you two ate dinner together, a silent oath to yourselves and reassurance that no matter how much you two ignored one another throughout the day, you still loved each other.

of course, wakatoshi is the first to apologize, since this whole petty argument started because he wasn’t in the mood to entertain your silly question when you asked him so nicely and even told him beforehand as his day just began at that time.

when you entered the bathroom and glanced at the mirror to carry out your usual routine, what was once a squeaky-clean mirror now had a little note on the bottom right corner.

good morning. you look stunning, as always. :) i made your favorite breakfast. we’ll talk about our argument when i get home later, ok? i love you, now and forever.

now and forever is what he always told you, and wakatoshi says it, whether it’s written neatly with a whiteboard marker or spoken with that soothing voice of his, you know he means it through and through. no questions are asked. nothing to argue about there because when he says now and forever, he means it with everything he could ever offer.

a smile made its way to your lips as you read this.

at the kitchen table, a plentiful variety of your favorite was indeed, made, along with a note that was written on a sticky note. curious, you took your time to read through the simple message your husband had left you.

have a wonderful breakfast, love. i already ate before i went to practice, and i didn’t want to wake you up so we could have breakfast together because you came home exhausted last night.

the end of his note is sealed with a small heart, and your day is instantly brighter than the days before.

wakatoshi snuggles closer to you, considering that the argument has been resolved. he’s missed this and he couldn’t wait to bask in your attention, and make up for the time lost over some petty argument. to him, time is gold.

“love, about your question.”

“hm?”

“your question before our argument.”

“oh? what of it?”

“while i do love you, waxing my legs before an important friendly match is not ideal.”

“what? why not?”

“y/n, love. that hurts,” he replies, basing his answer on experience.

“it was one time,” you huff. “and i’ve gotten better at it now!”

safe to say that you two went to bed with lots of laughter after that.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

Away from Home ft. Wakatoshi Ushijima

an angst scenario in which ushijima notices his partner is homesick.

920 words, angst scenario, gn! reader

Warnings: homesick reader

Wakatoshi knew.

He always knows. 

Sometimes it’s easy for you to forget how observant Ushijima truly is because he’s always silent about it. Most of his observations go unsaid. Like how he noticed the way you always hum to yourself when you’re in a good mood or the way your hair feels the softest the day after it’s been washed. He sees and makes note of almost everything going on around him. 

And most of the time he’s content with keeping his observations to himself. But not this time.

Ushijima began to worry about your wellbeing when he noticed small changes in your daily habitual actions. 

It was the slightest quiver in your bottom lip and the way you leaned into him, subconsciously looking for support, as your parents spoke to you over the phone detailing upcoming house renovations and updates on the state of your favorite lilac bushes that were currently blossoming.

It was the small sigh you let out after hanging up the phone and the way your shoulders were tense as you lay your head on his shoulder and sit in comfortable silence after the interaction on the phone.

It was the way your gaze lingered on the photos your mom sent showing the hummingbird feeders, and the way you passed the phone to him to give him a chance to see.

He had taken note of all of these things, but it was today that he finally knew what was the cause of your behaviors. 

It was the forced smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes when your parents asked you how you were doing during your call with them today that gave it away.

You were homesick.

But "homesick" don't seem to describe the extent of your feelings, he thought to himself. 

It was when you rose from your spot next to him after the call to go sit on the balcony that he became aware of the depth of your hidden feelings.

Earlier that month, you dragged your favorite chair out onto the balcony and would spend hours on end sitting out there. It was so that you could "feel the sky" you had told him when he'd asked why you had been spending so much time out there. Sometimes, you'd be out on the balcony, sketching the cityscape, and you'd show him the work when you'd completed them. But what he didn’t know was that in addition to the drawings he'd see, you’d also spend hours sketching your homeland from memory in attempt to regain connection to your home.

But he still knew you were longing for the fresh open air and the endless sky that you had grown up with even in your attempts to hide it from him. You couldn't escape the longing you felt for the place and people you loved so much.

Ushijima knew that you weren’t truly happy with him in the city, even though you loved him and would give anything for him. He thought about everything you’d done to ensure that he was able to follow his passion, from making him special lunches that worked within his diet, to spending endless nights sleeping alone when he was away. 

And, when reflecting on all he'd observed throughout the years of what you had done for him, Ushijima was overcome with an intense feeling of gratefulness. But at the same time, he felt a pull at his heart. He recognized the feeling as deep sadness. What if you had given up the life you truly wanted. For him. 

He feared that the most: that he couldn’t give you the life that you truly deserved and longed for. 

With him you could never be completely happy.

He knew he had to talk to you about it, so he waited for you to come back inside. It was not too long when you returned from the balcony.

“Darling,” he called out to you softly.

As he laid eyes on you, he noted that your face hid the sadness it once held. Your normal resting expression had returned. Not a trace of longing remained, he noted.

“What is it, Toshi?”

All of a sudden, all words left him, and he felt at a complete loss for expression of speech. He didn’t know how to raise the subject to you.

Should he begin to extend the immense gratitude he felt towards you? No. Surely you would suspect that he knew something was wrong. Should he just be honest and tell you that he knew you weren’t happy?

Seeing you standing there in front of him, he thought he couldn’t possibly.

And with that, he made his decision to let it go, like he had done many times before with other things. 

”Oh, I was just wondering what we’re having for dinner.”

You blinked, and he held his breath. Then, to both his relief and dismay, you smiled at him in your usual manner and began to list off the options for your evening meal as you move to sit beside him.

Little did you know, your words were falling on unwilling ears as Ushijima was too distracted by the encounter to be paying attention to you.

Weighing his decision to keep quiet, he thought that maybe it was better for you if you didn’t know that he knew what you were feeling.

At least that’s what he told himself to justify keeping quiet about the fact that he was noticing the lightness leaving your eyes, slowly, slightly, one day at a time.

haha maybe college changed me because I never thought I would be capable of writing angst. Sorry, I'm a little out of practice with writing fics, but I hope you liked it, but if angst isn't your cup of tea, don't worry, more fluff will be coming soon :)

Feel free to reblog if you liked it! :)

p.s. I missed you all and writing so much! if you're reading this, thank you for sticking around, and being patient with me when I took my massive hiatus as I adjusted to college life. <3

ding!

. . . ushijima wakatoshi. not one for the romance books.

“you hold feelings for me?”

he’s a bit taken aback by the confession that wakatoshi just couldn’t help but blink for a few seconds, unsure of what to do with this information. dealing with an out-of-the-blue confession before volleyball practice was not on his agenda for today—so what should he do?

there you stood in front of him, fidgeting with your fingers as you couldn’t even meet his gaze, an apprehensive smile on your lips. you’re nervous and unsure of your timing, he assumes. your body language seemed a bit stiff as well and he could tell by this that you weren’t really planning on confessing your feelings to him now.

maybe it was just a sudden change of plans on your end.

but you finally said it; you finally confessed.

“you— you don’t have to reciprocate!” you quickly add, not wanting to force him into anything that makes him uncomfortable or something that he never even considered. “i just,” you took in a short breath, “i just wanted to say it.”

wakatoshi thinks over his words carefully. you’re his classmate and his friend; he doesn’t want to leave you heartbroken, but he’s conflicted about what to say.

it certainly isn’t just turning down someone who confessed to him—he’ll admit that it happened quite often, seeing as how he was well-known all across miyagi—it’s you. he’s going to reject your advances, and the thought made him frown ever so slightly.

“i’m sorry,” he replies, his tone smooth and laced with his familiar stoicism, though if you listen closely, you’ll hear that he really is apologetic. “i can’t say that i feel the same way.”

you waved your hands frantically to reassure him. “no, no! it’s alright, really.” you straighten your composure, a bit sheepish, even awkward, about the situation you conducted with your confession.

he nods, bidding you his goodbyes as he heads to the gym for his afternoon club activity.

you’re left to yourself in the back of your school building, absolutely defeated. you sigh, crouching down, your hands in your head. your thoughts are running a thousand miles per millisecond.

you made a fool of yourself.

you made your friendship with wakatoshi awkward.

you definitely want the ground to swallow you whole right now.

but on the bright side, you confessed. you got the feeling off your chest, and that counts for something, right?

though the scene that just happened was not one for the romance books. you slightly blame the romance shows and media you’ve been hooked on, but what else could you do?

wakatoshi does not feel the same way.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader wc; 900+ genre; fluff a/n; prompt request for @luvnami <33 hope you like it!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The ‘U’ in Ushijima must stand for uncertainty, you’ve come to realize.

You suppose you could say the two of you were ‘dating’ — by a far stretch of the word. That is, if you could consider nightlong FaceTime calls and cheering him on at volleyball games dating.

You hadn’t even realized he was interested in you until Tendou pointed out that no, in fact, it was not normal for the Shiratorizawa ace to be following someone around campus like some love sick puppy,  and no, Tendou has never seen his partner smile, let alone smile at another person.

You had always thought Ushijima was always just… there. But now, he was making his presence known, and suddenly your vision was filled with nothing but him.

And maybe there was something charming about how he always seemed to find you. And you’ve discovered that Ushijima speaks exactly what was on his mind — it comforts you to know that he means what he says, and he says what he means.

And yet, it is exactly this bluntness that’s become the source of your confusion in the first place.

“So, are you guys going out?” Tendou had dared to ask one sunny afternoon during lunch time, picking at his food and staring at the two of you from above his chopsticks.

“Yes,” Ushijima answers instantly, wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Your heart beats faster at the certainty of his words, sharing a surprised glance with Tendou.

That is, until Ushijima says, “Y/N has P.E. after lunch, so I will have to walk her outside.”

You physically had to stop yourself from banging your head on the table.

Tendou was not one to give up so easily though, opting for a more direct approach.

“No, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou sighs out exasperatedly, “I mean, are you guys together?”

You held your breath, wanting to know the answer just as much as the middle blocker did.

“Yes, we are together,” Ushijima says with his usual monotonous voice, though you don’t let yourself get too excited.

“We are eating our lunch together, Satori. Can’t you see?”

The school bell had rung as Tendou began his third attempt, and promptly the conversation had been swept away amongst the crowds of students trying to get back to class.

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