Hinata Shoyo Haikyuu - Tumblr Posts

While dogsitting this Corgi he laid in a position, I couldn’t help but looks familiar

@rukia-uchiha-98 (Credit to her for creating this funny pic) @wake-uptoreality @writtenbynightlock @lyditheoverthinker

TAN SHOYO! BRAZIL SHOYO!

where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)

summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions

word count: 1981

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties

event masterlist

There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.

There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.

It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.

Friend.

The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.

High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.

Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.

Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.

“Ready for dinner?”

Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.

When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.

“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”

He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”

You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”

And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.

You can feel your shoulders drop.

After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.

As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.

When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.

“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.

“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”

You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.

“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”

Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.

Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.

“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”

You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.

“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”

And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.

……………………

Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.

Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.

Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.

Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.

You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.

You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.

He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.

“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.

“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.

“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.

You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”

You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.

“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.

“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”

“Me too.”

“Okay good.”

Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.

“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.

Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.

That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.

A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.

“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.

You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.

“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”

He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.

“I like you tons.”

You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.

“I like you tons too.”

Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.

ㅤthe dishes ᵕ̈        timeskip!boyfie!hinata shōyō        x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : he ' s back home , finally

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🎶 on shuffle " coming home " - beabadoobee

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💬 kuroppiii ─ “ i don ’ t even fw shōyō that that much but i ’ ve been eating up these fics abt having to ldr with timeskip brazil hinata like DAMN ”

it felt so nice.

so nice to finally have his presence so close—to actually have hinata there with you, in the flesh.

you couldn’t help your eyes from being glued to his hands and his newly-tanned arms, flexing as he rinses the dirty dishes under the kitchen faucet’s little stream. his ginger hair was messy from how your hands carded through it earlier once he stepped through the front door and you shared a "welcome back home" kiss, and it fell over his slightly jet-lagged yet focused eyes.

towel in hand to dry the cleaned dishes as he placed them by you on the counter, you took it all in—the sound of the water, the sponge crunching out soapy bubbles, the clinks of fine china, his calm breathing—because it was all real. after so long it was all tangible.

of course, when hinata left for brazil, you two easily managed a consistent stream of texting and calling.

you loved each other, and distance wasn’t going to change that.

but although there was still connection, connection doesn’t always mean contact.

there was no human contact.

and at times it drove you crazy. the pillow on his side of the bed started to lose his scent the closer you hugged it at night. sometimes you could hear the slightest noise from how quiet the house was. the small loads of your laundry alone taunted you every week as you did chores around the house.

you were forced to just imagine—play a frustrating make-believe of what he was doing based on the descriptions that came to you in small grey bubbles on your phone screen. you always found yourself wishing to really see it, though. it just wasn’t the same. it just didn’t feel enough at times.

but then sometimes there were calls—at night when he’d be at a roof bar somewhere in rio, ditching his brazilian volleyball buddies for a little escape. with him leaning over the rooftop railing, his tropical patterned shirt flowing about and letting his toned chest peek at the bottom of your screen now and then. the pattern would blend with the pitch black sky behind him, if his phone connection was getting a little choppy.

his drink barely appeared in-frame of your video call. he didn’t need it. he just wanted a moment with you and to hear your voice—to get drunk off of that—even if he had to settle getting it through his phone.

there would be calls while he’s eating breakfast, reviewing a different café for that morning’s coffee, as his animated comments brought an unwavering smile to your face as you ate your dinner.

but then the the calls would end, and the kitchen scarily got so much quieter. it was just you and your empty dishes, as you stack the pile higher and higher, not feeling compelled to wash them at the moment as you’re falling from the high that was feeling your shōyō’s presence back in your life. even if it was for the briefest of calls.

until he had called you to let you know he’s coming home.

until he had called you when he was packing his bags.

until he had called you the moment he got to his terminal in the airport for his flight back home.

“i just to be with you, right now,” he said.

“you’re on your way. we’ll be together again soon, shō,” you say with a fake front of patience as if you, too, weren’t also barely able to contain yourself. this high remained with you for all 24 hours of anticipation as he made his way across the globe for you. you secretly prayed to every force or god out there that hinata’s flight doesn’t get delayed—that’d he’d be there with you, right on time. you physically could not wait a moment longer.

he didn’t have to call you upon his return, not when he was already at your door.

his suitcases and bags were actually still there, sitting next to the shoes at the entrance.

the first thing hinata did after he dropped his bags was scoop you up and smother you in kisses, his embrace on you so secure you felt like living there in his arms forever.

the second thing he did was go to help you with the that heap of dishes living in the kitchen sink.

“what are you staring at, baby?” hinata’s voice brings you back to the present, “the dishes aren’t going to dry themselves.”

he giggles at his own joke before leaning over to give your lips a short kiss, and your eyes flutter closed as the short moment felt like eternal bliss.

when you open them again, they trace over every detail of his face. you can see his eyes are doing the same, as well.

“i’m just happy you’re home,” you say.

🗒⋆ *. ୨୧⋆｡ taglist : @hatsukeii , @akaakeis ( beabadoobee - ers rise up !! )