When I was your man [Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader]
the icon that I used for this header is from JuliĀ @s-hoyoā ! Please support her work, you can find the rest of her work here
when I was your man;; pairing: singer!ushijima wakatoshi x fem!readerĀ fandom: haikyuu!! genres: fluff but mostly angst. from lovers to strangers! au pt. 1 word count: 2.1K-ish
a/n: this is a prompt that came to my mind while the ushi bots were sad ajhdjsj, so i want to thank to the cheese cult for basically giving me the idea<3 i love you all. I hope you enjoy and like this! Please take care and know that I love you! [update] Iāve been writing this for now, 3-4 months. It ended up been so long that I decided to separate it on 3 parts. I want to apologize dearly for not been as active as ever, irl sucks and I havenāt feel really well lately. I will try to catch you with you guys, because thanks to you I feel appreciated and that my work is valid. Thank your for been here for me even though I havenāt been there for you. I love you
This is for baby K @ushiwakaaā, I wanted at the beginning to just do something angsty to fuck a little but it ended up in so much HAHAHA. Thank you for all the laughs, tears and smiles youāve provoke on me mama, you are one of my closest friends and you deserve everything (and all the ushis) in this world. Iāll try to upload all the parts soon but you know I always end up procrastinating HAHAHA. Anyway, I am really thankful baby, I love you so much. Thanks for been my friend, hubby, wifey and partner in smutty and domestic fluff times. I love you more than I can explain, so yeah :confounded: now I am going to stop befor you think I am obsessEEEED with you :pensive: smh, enjoy this shitty thingie ig. Te amo mami<3
I wrote this 3 years ago oh man. This is my official come back from my hiatus.
Summary: He was too young and too dumb to realize that he shouldāve bought you flowers, and held your hand. That he shouldāve gave you all his hours when he had the chance. And that he shouldāve take you to every party because all you wanted to do was dance. But now is too late, because he is no longer your man.Ā
*. : t⿠* ļ¾ * .: ļ½” āæ * ļ¾ Ā * . : ļ½” āæ *
His hands skillfully played the piano in front of him, knocking out the keys with softness immersed in the musical notes he was reading calmly. Semi had composed the song and was still missing the lyrics. Both of them were sure that they had to find a contrast between the sadness and the passion of abandonment. That was his project. Ushijima was convinced that he would find the inspiration to write it and then sing it.
He always finds something to inspire himself.
He hummed to the rhythm of the song, his voice hoarse invading the small space of his study. He closed his eyes lightly, barely reading the notes written on the bond paper in front of him. "My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways" he stopped immediately, grabbing a pen and his notebook, writing the first line that had occurred to him all afternoon.
It was difficult, he wasn't going to deny it. Being an artist, a public figure. His private life and relationships were exposed; it was not as if it affected him, the pain was accompanied by fame. Resignations went hand in hand with money and criticism was the dessert of talent. In any case, he could not complain or regret the path he had chosen: his songs were always within the top 3 hits of Japan, every time.
He had met many people throughout his life; critics, singers, composers, musicians. He had also met friends, acquaintances, enemies, competition and one-night lovers. The last ones always stayed in that: in one night. Or morning. Or evening. It depended on whether he was on tour or not, if he was tired or not. If he was feeling touch starved or not.
The loneliness of his life was a plus for the lyrics of his songs; Which was also a disadvantage. The public liked to hear the suffering, the sadness, the regret; they loved to see the tears of pain in the singers' eyes, they were excited to hear them with a broken voice halfway through the concerts, it made them burst with emotion to see them ask for forgiveness, ashamed of feeling emotions. Ashamed of being human.
The public, the market, the producers: they were all the same. They all sought to try to unmask and mix the personal with the work. Everyone sought to find those precious jewels in the artists' lives, which were neither gold nor diamond.
It was the heart.
Ushiwaka, as he was known, had not yet been exposed. His cold and dense attitude in front of the camera and his fans was captivating and sickly. Not in his music videos, not in his interviews, not at charity events. There was nothing that could get through those barriers that he had built. The industry was difficult, it was harsh, it hurt and, even in certain cases, it killed members of itself.
But he was different, because the industry was not what motivated him.
It was you.
"Ushi" blinked lightly upon hearing your voice. Usually you didn't interrupt him when he was working, or when he was thinking, or at any time "Can we talk?"
Your voice was sweet and smooth. It reminded him of his voice when he was just a child; his father had told him that at some point he would change and that he had to value the gift he had. He had to make it flourish. And he made it flourish, among other things. He also made the songs he had written with his lips to your skin flourish, and also made your feelings for his person and not for her public figure flourish.
Your voice was so beautiful and sweet, it surprised him that you weren't a singer. Truth be told, your connection to the world of music was him. And your work, which had stopped being very recurring when you decided to have a hidden relationship with him. Only a few friends, his manager and his father knew about your relationship with him. And, in the category of āa few friendsā, only Tendou and Semi entered.
"I'm in the middle of a song, baby," he replied simply, looking at you.
Baby. That had been his pet name for you; just for you. That's what he called you when he wanted to kiss you, or when he wanted to hold you in his arms. His baby. His queen. His owner. You were his mantra, you were his promise, his oath. His inspiration.
You were everything he loved, even though he had a hard time showing it, saying it, but never thinking or feeling it. You were the only light within that hell in which he worked, his inspiration, his muse. His songs, his words, his emotion bathed in promises.
You were the love of his life.
"Uh, yeah. I was thinkingā¦ā You looked away for a few seconds, the atmosphere of the studio seemed to hang by a small thread, staggering between pain and indifference āI really need to talk to youā
āRight now, I can't, baby. Later"
His eyes snap back to the notes Semi had made. In his notebook he writes a draft that he surely would not use later.
Music was his passion, his dream, his talent. It consumed so much effort, desire, emotion. It sucked his soul to his barely core until he spent hours and hours looking at a notebook with nothing written inside it; It ruined the dates he had with you, canceled the small displays of affection that were prepared for the strands of your hair nor for your pink lips.
The music was so beautiful, but it was a curse. The cross with which he would carry all his life, the reason for the vast majority of regrets that would come after that conversation.
"I want to break up with you, Wakatoshi"
Your words are poisons, an excessive mission. It takes his breath away, little by little by little. His eyes widened immediately, slowly. The blood inside his body turns and stops running, his heart beats slowly, but aggressively.
It is the same sentence that materializes it. He becomes a piece of glass, the same object that seems to burst - metaphorically - against some wall.
"What?"
He needed to be sure of what you said.
He needs it not to be true.
He needs to know that it was a joke. One way to make him pay for his negligence towards you.
"I don't think we're working," you go on, looking at him with a sad sparkle in your eyes. āI donāt think we have worked in months⦠I know you donāt love me anymore, thoughā his love for you grew and grow every day. It was so big and caring that it was impossible to write about it, but what it would have been of him without you "And ..., and ..." It seems that you are about to cry, your sweet voice breaks in the silence of the room "And I have fallen in love with someone else during our relationshipā
These are words that are buried in his head. They consume him. His instinct prevents him from crying, or yelling at you, or insulting you. His instinct tells him that he must control himself, that, above all, he loves you. He loves you so much that he knows he was not the one.
Not the best.
Not the most loving, nor caring.
Not the one who would marry you.
Not the one who would wake up next to you for the rest of his life.
Not the one who would have children with you.
Not the one who would protect you.
Not the one you love.
āI understand" and he does. He would also hate himself; he was sure you hated him "Can I ask you a question, at least?"
His voice seems to fight the urge to stop. The curiosity is killing him, strangling his hopes, his eyes, his heart.
āYeahā¦ā
āIs he better than me?ā he needed to know. He needed to.
Falling in love was not part of the plan, falling in love was not part of his dream. A dream that was neither written nor intended to be. Love was as misleading as the facets he showed to his fans, love was a lie, torture.
Loving you, hurt.
"He is loving" was the only thing you could answer him. He noticed that your voice sounded sore "It's different, Ushi" you added, covering your face "I'm sorry"
"Okay" he managed to be able to articulate his words "If you want I can pack my things, I'll call the moving agency" it was stupid to think of you when he should be selfish; fight for your love, show you that he was the one.
"I don't want to stay here, Ushi. I am sorry, I am truly sorry"
Your words break his heart a little more. "Okay, do you want me to help you pack?"
"I already did it, I have everything in my car already"
His lips open in a small "o" but cannot make any sound. He looked away immediately "I understand" as he blinked several times, feeling his eyelashes moisten "Sorry, for not making you feel loved"
He doesn't want his words to hurt you, but they hurt you. It hurts to hear them and it hurts more to say them. There is nothing after that, just the footsteps of the love of her life walking away.
When he hears your car's engine start, his elbows collide with the piano keys; for the first time in a long-time, he allows himself to cry, he just breaks that rule. Not exaggeratedly, not as he would like. The miscellaneous sound of the instrument makes him lose his patience, and makes him feel guilty. Droplets of salt water run down his cheeks, hit the object's white keys, and stay there.
ā„ā¢Ā°āĀ°ā¢ą¼¢
They remain there for two years.
He didn't know how he survived in such a big bed. But he knew he avoided it at all costs, he slept in the study, on the sofa, on the floor, in Tendou's house, in Semi's apartment. He slept everywhere, but still did not recover sleep.
He convinced himself to wish you the best even when you cut all your connections to him. You changed your phone number, closed all your social networks - you actually blocked him, but he did not want to accept it - and you disappeared from his life. Like ashes in the wind. You slid down his fingers, too fine and small for his pain-filled world.
You deserved better than him.
You always had.
If he were a workaholic before, now he wouldn't stop working. He made sad, monotonous songs. Never talking about love, actually. Well yes, but in metaphors. He talked about plucking flowers, how to destroy rose bushes, how to ruin the most beautiful garden.
How to get away from his life.
It is very pathetic, to tell the truth. For being a musician, his apartment remains silent for most of the day. Being famous he hides from the cameras more than before. Being Ushiwaka, it is easily destroyed by your memories.
It is killing him.
"You can erase the lyrics, but not the memories," he says to himself, reading the new draft he wrote. "It takes courage, but not money-
You are taking my life away from myself.
My heart thumps thinking of you.
I sowed spite in my eyes for you,
My lips keep remembering your petals,
I lost the stems of your fingers,
The feeling of your words over my temple,
I lost every single day, night, dance,
I lost you-ā
"Hey, I just came to check how you are" the voice of Semi suddenly interrupts him, hoarse voice fill with patience āYou havenāt answer my messages and Tendou is kind of worried, since he is on tour and everythingā his eyes traces a silent whimper all over Ushijimaās figure.Ā
āI forgot to charge my phoneā he responds; a lie,of course, his phone reminded a few centimeters away from his hand, in a particular way suspended over the wood table, recording.
āAh⦠I understand. You want to, you knowā¦, hang out?āĀ
If he wasnāt famous or heartbroken, he would have said yes.Ā
If he wasnāt overwhelmed by an old love, he would have said yes.
If you werenāt in any picture of him so near of his memories, he would have said yes.
āI am working on my new albumāĀ
Those words are enough to push Eita away. He doesnāt mean to just..., stop. But knowing Wakatoshiās ego and pride, it didnāt matter how much he wanted to help his friend. There was always going to be a barrier between them. He was just a swan, Wakatoshi fly higher than him, anyway...
He could see everything but never himself,Ā āAhā he replies, ruffling his dyed hair,Ā āThen, Iāll be in the kitchen making some curryā
āYeahā
Ushijima slowly reaches for his friendās hand before he could leave. A cold and familiar sensation creeping on his torso,Ā āSemi,ā he mutters, eyes flickering on his grip,Ā ācan you promise me something?ā
Seeing the great Ushiwaka stumble and fall wasnāt something that the public eye nor a lot of people in the industry will ever see. He was hard as the diamond..., but diamonds are easy to break when you hit them at certain angles; his weakest spot was his heart, that he resguard in an ice cage until her warmth arms came and melt his fortier down..., until her lips brought him sweet, innocent love..., until his body, voice, life, self was completely of hers.
Just to steal it and leave him with nothing.
āOf course, Wakaā
āDonāt say a word to anyone elseā he states under his breath,Ā āPromise it to meā
Semi shifts on his spot, squeezing his hand, trying to convince him,Ā āSureā
Without any other word, Semi leaves him in the freezing lost feeling.Ā
td:*Ė:ā§ļ½” C h e e s e Ā c u l t : @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji Ā @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma Ā @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez Ā @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishireiā @pineapplekweenā @estherwritessā @keiji-nā @achoohqā @badlywritten-hqā @mochibeaaā @oinkannaā @chxrry-wxneā @spudicideā @airybbyā @asranomicalā @karmasunaā
td:*Ė:ā§ļ½” G e n e r a l Ā m a s t e r l i s t: @trashys-thingsā @softforshigiā @groundzeroagencyā @edensxgardenā @pm4galā Ā @yams046ā @thatfanfictionwriter













