it was unexpected when you had found out you were pregnant. even more unexpected when your boyfriend kenma agreed to help raise the baby. despite living apart at the moment, the two of you had a baby girl, just shy of seven months now. it wasn’t that you two were broken up or you didn’t want to live together, it was just difficult finding a house that could fit you three and afford with both incomes. at the moment, your daughter stayed between houses every few weeks, mainly at yours but this weekend she was with kenma.
you clicked away through your files on your laptop as you glanced at the house site tab every so often. letting out a sigh, as you go to call your boyfriend, he was already calling you on discord on his pc.
“hi bubs,” you smile at your boyfriend on the computer screen. “and hi pumpkin.” greeting your daughter, who was gnawing on kenma’s hoodie strings as she lay flush against his shoulder. her hands barely wave as she sniffles and chews. her hair is messily done pigtails, one drooping more than the other.
“love,” he sighs, playing with her fingers as he bounces her on his leg. “can you come get her?”
“why? what’s wrong?” you tilt your head. “was she crying?”
“i- yeah but i- she wouldn’t stop crying today,” kenma pinches the bridge of his nose. your daughter looks up at him, gripping his hoodie to get his attention. “and she pooped all over the bed so i don’t know what to do or why she doesn’t feel good.”
“she’s probably teething, that’s why she’s biting your clothes,” you gesture. she turns slightly to the screen, whispering small noises as she looks at you. “she chews on my hand when she goes to bed because her pacifier isn’t enough for her.”
“oh,” he looks at your daughter in defeat. you watch as he carefully pulls up her lips to expose four teeth creeping up in the front. she winces as he counts the teeth with the pads of his fingers. “she has four now.”
“four!? she’s growing up too fast. she had three last week,” you pout. “if she’s still hurting, rub her gums and if it’s too much for her, you can give her the tylenol in her bag.”
“well, me and stinkie are gonna go take a bath,” he says lifting her up, making her giggle at the motion. she reaches for his face, grinning down at her dad. “say bye to mama.”
she opens and closes her hand towards the screen, babbling softly. “bye bubby, bye pumpkin. mwah, mwah, i’ll come over tonight so i can sleep over m'kay?”
the call ends and kenma looks at his daughter as she drools down her onesie. “okay stinkers, you do need a bath.” he carries her to the bedroom, setting her down on the middle of the bed.
“baba?” she babbled. she pats her hands below her as she watched kenma place down new clothes and a fresh diaper. she picks up the items, giggling as bath time is her favorite.
“yes, baby, babas,” he agrees. “hopefully, mama and i can live together soon so i don’t need to call her every time you cry.” he squishes her cheek softly as she looks at him in awe. he lays beside her momentarily as she crawls over to him.
she reaches up to tug his hair, her way of asking for kisses. kenma lifts her up and peppers her face with kisses, pulling away only for her to lean into his cheek. she nibbles and drools onto him, making him cringe at the feeling. “okay stinkie, now we both are going babas, you gremlin.”
you two stepped into the cramped train, coming from the airport after a very long flight. though you both opted to take a taxi, the queue for the taxi was way worse than the waiting time for the cramped train.
“i‘m tired.” you mumble to your boyfriend, looking up at him with your eyes attempting to blink the sleep away.
“me too angel.” he whispers, bending down as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
with suna‘s right hand, he holds the luggage you both brought. it‘s a large black suitcase, and his back pack is on top of it, he holds it very securely. meanwhile his left is laid at the small of your back, kept there to hold you close, and to fend off predators.
“i feel like i can sleep standing up.” you say with a chuckle, but it‘s not a joke. with the fatigue from the long flight, the cramped train, and jet lag: you do believe you can sleep like this.
“that sucks.” suna mumbles, as though he doesn‘t care. but his eyes are already looking around the train for free seats, or seats that will be freed with the next stop. “we‘re going to be here for another hour or so,”
“i know.” you mumble into his chest, filling your senses with his smell, rather than the smell of the train that‘s making you feel worse. “just wanna sleep.” you add further.
suna looks at you, his hand moving to the back of your head, running his fingers through your scalp and softly caressing you. his lips then press another kiss to your forehead.
“you can lean on me and sleep, i‘ll hold you.” he whispers to you, his hands moving back to the small of your back. his hand pats your skin softly, lulling you to sleep.
“but you‘re tired too,” you softly say into his chest, worried for him. but he simply shakes his head and presses one more kiss, but this time to your temple.
“it‘s okay, i can sleep at home.” he assures you, his hands moving up and down your back for comfort. usually, you‘d protest more, but due to your fatigue, you simply nod.
suna watches you softly, smiling to himself before he presses one last kiss to your forehead. he himself might be tired, but he would rather be standing there sleepy and looking out for you, rather than to let you stand there tired with him.
because he, no matter what happens, suna rintaro promises he will always look after you.
just thought about husband! sakusa kiyoomi who sees you gushing over these people on your social media who have the body-tight sleeveless turtleneck top on and he cannot tolerate it no longer.
so what does he do?
husband! sakusa kiyoomi asks the coach— thefucking coach— if he could change jerseys. not the number, not the colour, no. he wants to change those lousy and plain jersey shirts into those body tight sleeveless turtlenecks. and who is the coach to say no? so he does ask sakusa asks.
he never told you about it, of course he didn’t. he just waited until they came and he‘d wear them to the match and you‘d drool over him. he‘ll watch you rock your shit and try to keep yourself sane, try to stop everyone else from taking him and keeping him for yourself.
cut to a few days later husband! sakusa kiyoomi gets his jerseys in the changing room of the court. but when he tries them on he realizes it‘s a bit small—actually not a bit— it‘s a whole ass number size smaller.
instead of it being comfortably tight, it‘s just tight as shit. his abs are framed, you can make out the veins of his body, make out his spine, hell even see the way his nipples protrude against the fabric.
he gets flustered. fucking hell, he thinks. what is be going to do now? there’s no more time to change, the game is literally about to fucking start! oh well, yolo, is something he learned from you and he never thought he‘d be using that ever. yet look at him right now.
but he signed up for it. so like a real man, he sucks it up and goes out there with his muscles bulging. and as soon as he stands there in the starting line he can feel everyones— literally everybody’s— eyes on him. but he does not mind them, instead he looks for you and meets his onyx hues with yours. his eyes meet yours and he can see how you‘re licking your lips as you smirk, trying to keep yourself sane as you wear his old jersey that he told you to wear.
when the game starts, what you did not expect was to see was when he jumped to smash the ball to the ground is the way his jersey bailed out on him halfway, exposing his perfectly made abs. everyone swooned, yelled, some howled. literally. and you were no exception, but of course you did so with some class, keeping it together as you recite your twentieth prayer to the gods.
and by the time the game was done you could bet to hell everyone wasn’t even talking about how they won, they were all talking about how pro-athlete sakusa kiyoomi‘s abs make an appearance on the court!
however, before they could even ask about it sakusa kiyoomi was whisked away by none other than you. quickly driving him home and putting yourself on the menu for his congratulatory dinner.
and when the next day came, sakusa had once again showed up with that same body tight sleeveless turtleneck in white instead of black. not because he wanted everyone to savour his figure, but because something had to cover the amount of hickies you placed on him.
warnings: bad writing, cheating, angst, both y/n and rin aren’t that good of people in this :(
a/n:in my angsty era again </3 reposting bc my tags weren’t working. anways this was inspired by (you guessed it) another mitski song! a loving feeling by mitski.
what do you do with a loving feeling?
or more importantly, what do you do with a loving feeling that comes from suna rintaro?
nowadays, you tend to ask yourself that question more often — if not everyday. it’s not as if you’re not used to feeling loved, you are, but almost all the time it’s platonic. and you’re starting to think that’s the problem.
because you know you’re never gonna get used to this sight in front of you.
for everyone else around you, the sight may be a pleasant, endearing, and might even put a smile to elderly couples’ faces as they reminisce about their own youthful days. but to you, it just leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
because in front of you is suna rintaro with the girl he’s in love with. staring into her eyes deeply as she does the same to him, hand in hand and nuzzling their noses. that girl isn’t you. and that’s the problem.
and although it shouldn’t be a problem for you, since you said it was okay for him to pursue her, it is, because here you are at his and her engagement party, with a gift in your hand and a (fake) smile on your face for the ‘newest fiancés in town.’
it’s pitiful, really.
you should be happy for him. after all, he’s with the girl he loves so deeply, even if that girl isn’t you. you promised him that you’d eventually find your own happiness even if that means she wouldn’t be the root of it anymore. (if anything, he’s probably caused you more heart aches than happiness). besides, the relationship between the two of you (as rintaro would say even though you know it wasn’t true) was platonic. but shouldn’t your feelings be taken seriously as well?
honestly. suna rintaro is quite bold, considering the fact that he willingly invited you to his engagement party. you figured he might just be some sort of sadist. but does that make you a masochist for actually attending it?
for starters, you and rintaro have been in a, well — situationship. it started 6 months ago when him and his girlfriend (now fiance) got into a huge fight. it’s not like you were strangers before that, in fact, you both were childhood friends who stuck with each other through thick and thin.
the only problem with that was you were so stupidly in love with him, and you have been ever since you were kids. the second the argument went down, you were the first person he told and one thing led to another.
now of course, you couldn’t blame rintaro for only making the love you had for him ten times stronger once the situationship started, he was in the wrong for initiating the idea, but you were more wrong for going with it knowing that the feelings you had for him would only grow.
and recently, you noticed him acting strange. ignoring your calls, texting back extremely late, and — inviting you to hisengagement party?
you honestly just needed closure. if he wanted what the two of you had to end, then all he had to do was say so. it wasn’t fair that you had to find out he felt that way through an invitation from the mail.
which is why you impulsively walk to the 6′3 man stating, “we need to talk.”
rintaro’s previous smiling face is completely wiped off, visibly paling with each passing second when he sees the complete seriousness in your face.
his fiancé doesn’t notice, too enraptured by a conversation she’s having with one of her friends. you’re so used to receiving such cold treatment from rintaro in public that you don’t even flinch at his reaction. you knew that rintaro only showed his love for you in private.
whatever the case is, rintaro still decides to follow you.
“hey,” he swallows harshly, trying his best to maintain a neutral, “you wanted to talk?”
it gives you whiplash — the suna rintaro you know, the one you fell in love with, the down-to-earth and always calm rintaro is here standing in front of you like he’s a stranger. nothing about his facial expression currently says calm or down-to-earth.
“i just want closure, rintaro. i promise i’m not trying to ruin your relationship or whatever you think i’m plotting right now.”
his brows raise, as if what you’re saying makes no sense whatsoever, “what makes you think that?”
“that look on your face,” you scoff playfully, crossing your arms together “god, you’re looking at me like i’m some crazy ex. it’s just me, remember?”
he stares at you for a few seconds, mouth opening as if he’s about to argue but then closes his mouth with a sigh. at the gesture, you let out a laugh and suna could only do the same.
“so i’m guessing this is over?”
“i’m really sorry,” he says sheepishly, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.
“don’t be,” grinning, (or rather, forcing one,) you hand him the gift bag you brought before taking a deep breath, “don’t cheat on her anymore, rintaro.”
he takes the bag, nodding his head once again before smiling, “i won’t.”
for months you’ve always wondered what you should’ve done with the loving feelings suna rintaro has given you. but in all honesty, you’re only starting to think that you should’ve thrown that loving feeling away from the start.
you could barely keep your eyes open. akaashihad promised to take you to a beach to see the sunrise. there was just one problem; the beach was pretty far away from where you live.
“you can go to sleep if you want to.” he says, smiling. he’s probably smiling because of the sleepy look on your face, and you can’t help but smile back. “i’m alright, the sleepiness will fade away soon.”
there were only a few cars on the road and you could still see the moon and stars in the sky. the soft and calm music coming from the car’s radio makes the car drive even better.
“i think it’s only a few minutes until we arrive the beach.” - “ i’m so excited, i haven’t been to the beach since last summer.” akaashi’s hand goes to the buttons next to him, and you can hear the car window next to you roll down.
faint wave sounds can be heard and the birds are singing. you close your eyes to feel the wind on your face. the car finally comes to a stop and you’re met with the sight of a beautiful beach.
the tired feeling you had just felt was replaced with energy. it was the prettiest view you had ever seen. “thank you so much for driving me here, keiji.” you say flashing a bright smile. akaashi didn’t reply, but he knew that seeing you happy was worth all the trouble.
gn reader | arranged marriage au | angst to fluff | warnings: divorce mention, alcohol, abusive parents, arguing
your marriage to kiyoomi was not what you imagined it would be. he hated you and you didn’t know why. with your hopes of a happy marriage dashed, you decided to leave him after just one year. the divorce papers were drawn and your bags were packed, but what he reveals makes you reconsider.
part one|part two | wc: 3.6k | gn reader | arranged marriage au | fluff & angst | warnings:physical/emotional abuse from parents, manipulation, intoxication.
it was almost startling how much things had changed since that confrontation three months ago. you truly meant it when you said it would be a fresh start and kiyoomi was grateful. he did his best, albeit awkwardly, to make amends for how he treated you in the past.
‘platonic marriage’ or rather, being friends with you wasn’t difficult at all, it came almost as effortlessly to him as playing volleyball. though it quickly became clear that he knew almost nothing about you, once you told him something he made sure to never forget it.
it wasn’t enough for you to not hate him, kiyoomi wanted you to like him for who he was. he had always wondered what that felt like.
kiyoomi wasn’t sure when exactly he started considering the penthouse to be home. he used to think of it as a prison, yet before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to returning to whatever you were making for dinner and the questionable music you were blasting on the speakers. he’d tell you all about his day and you did the same. he didn’t rush off to practice first thing in the morning anymore. instead, kiyoomi made breakfast for you both.
you’d tell him his green smoothies were disgusting and he’d tell you to stop drinking coffee, but he still made sure that a cup was ready for you— exactly how you like it— before he went for a run. there were many moments like that, where kiyoomi caught himself forgetting all about your circumstances. it was nice. being with you was nice, he thought.
and he wasn’t sure what came over him three weeks ago when he’d called your mother and asked her to send your belongings from your old apartment to the penthouse. your mother had been pleasantly surprised and agreed happily, even keeping him on the phone for another 45 minutes to chat. he didn’t even speak to his own parents for that long, not about anything good. he thought that was nice too.
“what’s all this?” you stared down at the boxes when they arrived.
kiyoomi rubbed the back of his neck. “well, i asked your mom to send the stuff from your old place.”
you blinked at him, clearly surprised.
“kiyoomi… i- that’s so nice of you. thank you,” you murmured.
“you live here too so… ugh it’s really not a big deal. just don’t make a mess when you put it all away, y/n.”
he had been so flustered that he walked away, completely missing the fond look on your face. why had he been embarrassed after simply doing a friendly gesture? it was the fair thing to do after all. it wasn’t like he wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by your things. or what they would look like next to his own.
“was that y/n in the stands?” atsumu, his teammate, jogged up beside him on their way to the locker room. “didn’t think i’d ever see them again.”
“i’m surprised you had time to look in the stands at all with how much you were running your mouth at our opponents,” kiyoomi replied.
“well actually~ i only noticed because i saw how you kept looking at them all night.”
kiyoomi let out a disinterested hum, ending the conversation before atsumu could pry any further. despite the teams overwhelming victory that night, kiyoomi had been on edge. just knowing that you were there had him feeling nervous on the court for the first time in years. he thought he had been more subtle about it.
kiyoomi had never been one to talk about his private affairs. all the team knew was that he had gotten married and he refused to say any more about it. they had all seen you only once before over a year ago when you attended a game with his siblings but kiyoomi didn’t introduce you. the team hadn’t even been invited to the wedding. back then, the whole arrangement only made kiyoomi resentful and he refused to talk about you, desperately wanting to keep his volleyball life separate. even though things between you two were better, he never bothered explaining it to anyone, sparing himself the headache from their endless questions.
would there even be any point in telling them? neither you nor kiyoomi knew where things would eventually lead. he still wasn’t sure about your reason for staying. did you plan on only staying for the remainder of his career? you could have left him and moved on with your life but you stayed because you probably felt sorry for him. surely you’d get tired of it eventually, right? the thought of you deciding to leave made his stomach sink. not that he would have any right to be upset if you did.
you deserved better, but he hoped you didn’t care anyway.
kiyoomi took longer than usual in the showers, trying to alleviate his nerves. the night wasn’t over for him yet, unfortunately. when he finally emerged from the locker room, he spotted you among the families and friends of the team. but much to his dismay, you were in the midst of a conversation with atsumu, who seemed to be getting a little too familiar with you.
“omi-omi!” atsumu noticed him approaching.
kiyoomi frowned as he came to a stop in front of you both.
“i was introducing myself properly to y/n. we hadn’t officially met yet thanks to someone… i was just saying how i’ve heard so much about them!”
“you haven’t,” kiyoomi’s eyes narrowed at the arm atsumu had draped around your shoulders.
atsumu grinned down at you and pointed to his teammate. “see what i have to deal with, y/n? i can never catch a break.”
"why do i get the feeling that it’s the opposite?” you joked.
something bitter swelled in kiyoomi’s throat as he watched your exchange. not that long ago, he wouldn’t have cared less about who touched you. but now, it felt strange… and wrong.
the setter reared back, feigning hurt at your words. "so that’s how it is, huh? omi, what did you tell them about me?”
“only the truth.” kiyoomi grunted before turning to you. “we have to do some interviews but it shouldn’t take long. will you be alright here?”
“yeah, i’ll be fine.” you smiled up at him. “and great job out there tonight, kiyoomi.”
a blush threatened to crawl up his neck. he would blame it on his exhaustion if you noticed. “thank you.”
now beside him, atsumu let out an exaggerated sigh. “what about me, y/n? those were my amazing sets after all.”
you playfully rolled your eyes. “i guess you were amazing out there too, miya.”
kiyoomi’s jaw ticked. amazing? seriously?
“ah, don’t be so formal! call me atsu—”
“let’s go.” kiyoomi interjected, his tone sharper than necessary.
you waved them off. “i’ll see you in a bit!”
as the two players made their way down the corridor, atsumu noticed kiyoomi’s slightly reddened face. a devilish grin spread across his lips before he nudged his grumpy teammate and turned back to you.
“y/n! make sure you come to lots of games so omi-omi can do his best for you!”
the post-victory high kiyoomi felt slowly drained from his body as he pulled into the parking lot of an extravagant restaurant. after months of excuses, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. that night you both had plans to meet his parents for dinner. unsurprisingly, they had opted not to attend his game earlier.
kiyoomi thought he did a good job of disguising his discomfort, but you quickly sensed his shift in mood. before walking inside, you gently tugged on the sleeve of his coat to bring him to a stop. he looked down at you and was almost taken aback by the concern on your face.
“kiyoomi, are you alright? we can just go home if you’re not up for this tonight.”
in that moment, kiyoomi knew that he never wanted you to leave him. the feelings he had been trying to ignore for months threatened to spill out. he couldn’t put into words how you made him feel. it was almost too much, but he didn’t want to lose it. maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell you, but how could he after everything? he remembered the divorce papers you had drawn up, tucked away somewhere in the penthouse.
you had seen him at his cruelest, he almost drove you away in tears, and you were about to face the people that had manipulated him into your marriage in the first place. he couldn’t possibly ask any more of you. maybe things would have been different if he had given your marriage a chance, but he couldn’t think about that anymore.
kiyoomi took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, already feeling a little bit better.
“i’m fine. let’s just get this over with.“
you nodded warily.
he was grateful when you didn’t press him further. he was even more grateful when you didn’t ask why he still hadn’t let go of your hand.
it didn’t take long for kiyoomi to regret not taking you up on your offer to go home. things had begun decent enough, with the conversation flowing easily despite the tension. his father said very little as usual, busy checking business emails on his phone and nursing a glass of scotch. kiyoomi knew he should have seen it coming and cursed himself for thinking the night might end without any problems.
it all started while you were telling them about how well he had played earlier. kiyoomi smiled shyly as you recapped some of his plays, trying not to let his pride swell at your words. for a moment, he was so happy he almost forgot where he was, but his mother made sure to remind him.
"so kiyoomi,” she began, shamelessly interrupting you. “how long will you be doing that for?”
there was an awkward drawn-out silence before he replied, “what do you mean?”
“volleyball.” she said as if it were obvious. “your father and i were discussing it a while ago and we were thinking we should start considering your other options.”
kiyoomi visibly tensed at her words. next to him, you were rendered speechless, the shock on your face clear as day. kiyoomi himself wasn’t surprised in the least, but you had never seen this side of his mother before. until then, she had been almost sickeningly sweet to you. but after what kiyoomi had revealed, you were able to recognize that it had all been an act. to her, you were simply a means to an end.
“volleyball is my future, so i’m not sure what you’re getting at.” kiyoomi ground out, trying his best to keep his tone even.
his mother sighed. “be realistic, boy. you’re almost thirty now and most players retire before thirty-five with nothing else to fall back on. sure, you’ve found a little success but then what? a volleyball salary isn’t going to cut it forever. you should put that degree of yours to use sooner than later and do something meaningful with your life like your siblings.”
her every word felt like a weight on kiyoomi’s chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.
“i’ve let you carry on with this far too long. i thought that getting married would set your priorities straight but i see that it hasn’t,” she gave you a quick, disapproving glance. “i’m not asking you to retire today, but i’ll need you to start meeting with your father twice a week to learn the business and then—”
“and then what?”hespat.“i’ll do as you say, and then you’ll just find some other part of my life to manipulate? until i’m good enough?”
as he stared into his mother’s eyes, kiyoomi saw nothing. her face conveyed neither concern nor guilt. she only stared back at him as if he were nothing but a stranger speaking to her about the weather. it didn’t matter what he did, kiyoomi realized. she would never be proud of him for who he was. she would never see him as her son who worked hard his whole life to achieve his dreams. try as he might, kiyoomi couldn’t allow himself to ignore the reality of the situation any longer. to her, he was still a mistake that needed to be corrected.
“i know you never wanted me. so just do us both a favor and forget that i exist.”
for over an hour, you drove up and down every street surrounding the restaurant searching for kiyoomi before deciding to return to the penthouse. it was your last hope since you had no way of reaching him. in his rush to leave, kiyoomi had left behind his jacket containing his phone and car keys. you were so worried that you even called his cousin, komori, and begged him to tell you if he heard from kiyoomi.
you didn’t mean to cry, but the adrenaline from your outrage had worn off and you didn’t know what to do. you regretted not immediately going after him. instead, back at the restaurant, your feet had been planted in front of the table as you glowered at his mother.
“what is wrong with you? he’s your son!”
unaffected by your words, she raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“darling, don’t overstep.”
you were losing your composure.“you have no right to—”
“oh! i see what this is. have you deluded yourself into thinking he’d love you? you poor thing. the reality is that kiyoomi has always been a selfish little boy. as long as he can play that little game- he’ll use you until he has nothing left to gain from it.”
her words stung but you refused to give her the reaction she wanted.
“you should be more appreciative. i put you where you are, you would do well to remember that, y/n.”
not giving yourself a chance to reconsider, you swiftly lifted a wine glass off the table and threw its contents in her face.
under different circumstances, the way her expression became deadly in a mere second might have chilled you to the bone.
“you’re a pathetic excuse for a mother. i almost feel sorry for you.”
her tirade of insults sounded throughout the restaurant as you made your exit. you didn’t bother to listen, the only thing on your mind was getting to kiyoomi.
when you finally arrived back home, you were relieved to find his oxfords carelessly discarded in the entryway.
“kiyoomi?”
after no response, you began making your way through each room, cursing how needlessly big the penthouse was. when he wasn’t in the kitchen, master bedroom, or even his training room, you started to panic. had he gone back out before you arrived? as you raced back toward the elevator, you noticed a light down the hall. there was only one other room you hadn’t checked.
after clearing the air months ago, you moved into the guest room, feeling slightly awkward about continuing to share a room with kiyoomi. he was hesitant about your decision and insisted that you take the larger room but you refused. if you were being honest, a large part of you didn’t want to stay in that room because it would only remind you of what never was. you needed the distance.
to your surprise, kiyoomi was splayed across your bed on his back, polishing off a bottle of liquor you suspected was from your old stash. he looked a mess. his previously styled hair was in disarray, shirt untucked from his slacks, and his tie almost completely undone around his neck.
you let out a sigh of relief. “thank god you’re okay,”
he said nothing as you made your way inside and sat down. his eyes remained fixated on the ceiling.
“you know, i think we should consider getting a smaller place.” you tried to joke.
kiyoomi looked over at you then, his eyes softening briefly before he turned away again.
“i’m sorry for leaving you at the restaurant,” he said slowly.
“it’s okay. i was really worried about you.”
“i didn’t mean to… what happened was—”
“you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” you stopped him as he struggled with his words.
there was so much you wanted to ask him. why was his mother so cold to him? what did he mean when he said that she didn’t want him? and what would she do now that he didn’t want anything to do with her? did he mean what he said? but it wasn’t the time for any of that. you were just glad he was home.
neither of you said anything for a long time but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable like it used to be. it was almost peaceful. as if both of you understood that proximity was enough. you wondered if it would remain that way for the rest of the night before kiyoomi spoke again.
“my mother… she used to always tell me that i was lucky to even be born. my parents didn’t want any more kids but then i came along. i was nothing like my siblings. i tried to be for a long time. but when i decided that i wanted to pursue volleyball, everything got worse. i told my mother and she slapped me right across the face. it was like i had betrayed them. they were so angry at me and i couldn’t understand why. i loved volleyball instead of what they chose for me. was that so bad? for them to do all this? to hate me?
"i thought that i had finally convinced them that they could be proud of me when i went pro but of course they weren’t.” he chuckled bitterly. “when i got silver at the olympics, it was like that was the last straw for them. they married me off and put me in this penthouse so i could at least keep up the appearance of a responsible and successful son. what a joke.”
horrified at his words, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. you knew the last thing kiyoomi wanted was for you to feel sorry for him. but you didn’t feel sorry for him, you loved him. you loved him and hated everything he had gone through with his family.
though you tried to get rid of any lingering feelings for him over the past few months, they only returned a little more every day. with each meal you shared and every little moment together, it was easy to forget it all. but you were only there to help him now, nothing more. you knew he didn’t want more and it was painful. some days the reality of your situation hurt so much you wondered if you should have left after all… but you knew that you would have regretted that even more.
noticing your watery eyes, kiyoomi sat up. “hey, what’s wrong?”
“nothing, i’m fine,” you squeezed your eyes shut, accidentally letting a few tears escape. “shit. sorry. i’m just—”
your eyes shot open when you felt two large hands on either side of your face. kiyoomi was looking back at you with glazed, almost pained eyes. “i wish you didn’t have to see that. don’t cry for me or my family. it’s not worth it, y/n.”
“you are though.” you held his gaze even as more tears fell. “we’re in this together remember? i’m glad i was there with you. and i’m glad you can talk to me about it. i don’t want you to have to keep it all in all the time. i care about you… so much.”
kiyoomi’s eyes seemed to intensify and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it just as fast. suddenly, his face was inching closer to yours. you froze. was he going to…?
your panic quickly subsided when kiyoomi’s hands fell from your face and his body slumped against yours, his face landing right against your chest.
“k-kiyoomi?” you spluttered, quickly gripping his shoulders to keep him from completely falling onto you.
he groaned but still didn’t move. “fuck, my head…sorry…i’m slightly more inebriated than i thought.”
you exhaled slowly, unsure if you were more relieved or disappointed. but you were glad you hadn’t said too much at least. when kiyoomi started feeling heavier, you carefully slid off the bed and helped him lay down properly.
“alright stay here, drunky, i’ll be right back. and don’t fall asleep.”
you returned from the kitchen a moment later and made him drink an entire bottle of water. “lay on your side in case you puke later.”
“i never puke, that’s gross.” he giggled. the liquor had clearly caught up with him by then. you briefly wished you were devious enough to record him in his current state.
kiyoomi was softly snoring almost immediately after his head met your pillows. you couldn’t help but smile down at him and before you could stop yourself, your hand made its way to his face, softly wiping at the dried tear stains on his cheek. he had been crying before you found him.
“it’ll all be okay, kiyoomi. i promise.” your fingers were in his hair now, gently carding through his curls.
“…imnahgonna…”you froze when he began to stir, but he remained asleep, even letting out a content sigh when you resumed.
after twenty minutes, you were sure he was out for the night and wouldn’t need any more help. carefully, you draped a blanket over him and got up to exit the room.
as you opened the door, kiyoomi began mumbling again but his words came out clearer.
“…i know i’m not good enough…” he slurred. “…but i don’t want them to leave me…”
confused at his words, you paused. you wondered if he was referring to his parents.
“who?”
“y….y/n…”
he was talking about you? leaving?
“kiyoomi, i don’t understand,” you said softly. “do you need more wat-”
“…i know it’s too late…
but i love them…”
A/N: uhh this wasn’t supposed to be over 3k words and i have no self-control i’m sorry (;﹏;) but i didn’t take two months to finish a part this time!! i really struggled with this part though because i wanted to include how y/n and kiyoomi adapted to their new arrangement, kiyoomi’s complicated feelings for y/n, introduce his parents, and set them up for the ending without rushing everything. i already have a bonus chapter in my drafts and part four isn’t even started yet yikes…
Ushijima runs hot. He’d never realised this until two years ago when you pointed it out to him on your third date.
“You’re really hot.” were your exact words, and he almost tripped over nothing.
“Sorry?”
You half-hiccuped, half-giggled at his reaction, and the sound chimed in his ears. You were cute when you were tipsy, especially when you started whining a few glasses in because he couldn’t drink with you, a circumstance attributed to his dietician.
(By the end of the night though, he’d had a sip or two. It was impossible to deny you.)
“I mean, you’re really warm,” you clarified because he was definitely gawking. “Like a human heater.”
you had taken a different route to work today. you’d overslept, but it was supposedly okay because you were taking an off tomorrow anyway. your parents were coming to your apartment to visit you, because you’d moved to a different part of tokyo as soon as you’d gotten your job. you check your watch as you fasten your speed. and as your eyes look up again, they glance over a little sign on the window of the restaurant you pass by. you keep walking, but as soon as the information processes in your mind, you stop. and then your feet make a one-eighty degree turn on their own, walking back towards the sign. your eyes widen as you stand on the pavement, the board above the restaurant making your heart jump out of your chest.
onigiri miya.
“miya?” you murmur, blinking profusely. your lips part, and you think. maybe, just maybe.
you open the door.
the bell jingles as you walk to the counter, waiting in the line to see the cashier. there’s two more people in front of you. one of them seems like an ordinary businessman. the other is an old lady, smiling as she pulls out her purse to get the exact amount of cash she needs for her order. it seems as if she’s a regular. since when was this place open, anyway?
“welcome to onigiri miya, what can i get you today?” the cashier asks. he seems like a tired college student. you ponder for a moment, looking up at the menu before you say, “i’ll have the second combo with a lemon iced tea as the drink, please.”
“that will be seven hundred yen, would you prefer cash or card?”
“erm, card please-”
“oi, takeuchi, make sure to restock the tuna in half an hour! the counter’s runnin’ out any second now- [y/n]?” and there he is. just like you suspected. miya osamu, standing in all of his glory, clad in a black baseball cap with an onigiri embroidered on it. he wears a black tee, and a black apron with the same onigiri logo. his grey eyes blink at you profusely as you give him a tight-lipped smile.
“hi, ‘samu,” you say, “h-how are you?”
“excuse me, if you could just finish paying. i’m kind of in a hurry,” the man behind you interrupts. he wears glasses and stands in a three-piece suit, and you apologize before handing your card to takeuchi, who swipes it and tells you to go to the other side of the counter where osamu assembles all the food—by himself.
“ya haven’t called in months,” he says, handing someone their order before he continues, “why’s that?”
“i got busy with work, a big project came up and i honestly lost touch with like fifty people,” you nervously chuckle, “i’m sorry.”
“don’t worry, ’s an understandable excuse,” he chuckles, “ya wanna pop in tonight after closin’ time? i usually clean the kitchen every night by myself. would be nice ta have some company every now ‘n then.”
“only if i get food,” you joke. osamu then hands you a paper bag, a tumbler and a straw. he smiles, “'course, dinner’s on me.”
your day goes by pretty smoothly. your co-workers don’t bother you when you decline going to drink with them at the end of the day—which you’re honestly glad for, because sometimes they irritate you into coming with them, only for you to have the worst hangover the next day.
and now you’re walking inside onigiri miya for the second time today, eyes brightening up as soon as they fall on osamu. he waves you over to sit on a barstool as he wipes the counter, asking you if you want anything to drink. you decline, saying you’d rather not wake up with a hangover since your parents are visiting the next morning.
“tell me, how’s tokyo been treatin’ ya?”
“ugh,” you groan, “it was hell at first. college was so lonely, half the kids knew each other because they were high-school friends. and the ones that didn’t, made their own little cliques. i felt so out of place. but i found a friend or two by the end of my first year. so everything went well after that.”
“are ya workin’ now?” he raised an eyebrow as he slid you a plate of food. you thanked him before continuing, “well, yes. it’s my first year actually working. pretty good so far, i won’t lie. the pay isn’t half-bad, either.”
“well, ’m glad yer happy,” he says, “i opened this restaurant a couple of months ago, actually. just after we stopped talkin’. guess we both got busy during the same time.”
“i guess so.”
just then, something so unexpected happens that your heart jumps out of your chest and begins flopping on the floor like a fish out of water.
the bell jingles. you and osamu look towards the door. your eyes widen. your heart pounds in your ears.
“he loses his voice when he yells too much,” you mumble. the memories of you taking care of him after stupid fights making you smile—it’s a sad smile, and osamu can’t help but feel sympathetic for you. the two of you sit on a bench at the park; you’re mindlessly staring ahead of you as osamu looks at you with glassy eyes. maybe you’re looking at the playing children. or at the sun slowly beginning to set. or the little particles becoming visible by the tyndall effect. you don’t know.
“oh, and he also ends up getting sick if he stays up past two in the morning,” you chuckle now, the time when you’d called him at midnight flashing before your eyes. your boyfriend’s voice was soft that night, as he listened to you ramble and then did the same thing himself. it was around two-thirty when the two of you ended the call and went to bed, and the next day, he passed out next to you in math class.
“and whenever he walks home with me, we usually end up getting strawberry icecream or cream puffs,” your eyes blink softly, to stop the tears from flowing. you’re successful in doing so, and your mind takes you back to the time when you forced the boy into the convenience store at the end of your neighborhood. he was talking about how he needs to get home or his mother will give osamu all the soup and the fatty tuna. he stayed with you anyway, eating ice-cream from a small cup in his hands as the two of you laughed about nothing and everything at the same time.
“and he doesn’t like that onigiri you make with chicken. he hates it but he says he doesn’t wanna hurt you,” a glum blush takes over your cheeks, “he cares about you a lot, even though he doesn’t show it. but you probably know that already.”
you remember atsumu complaining about the chicken tasting weird with the rice, but he’d continued eating the snack that osamu had dropped off anyway. when you’d asked why, he’d reply with, “because ‘samu made it. fer me.”
“ya know you don’t gotta to do this, right? he’s stupid, he’ll come around eventually,” osamu croaks, his voice cracking at the end. you give the grey-haired twin a melancholic smile in return, “don’t really have a choice anymore, 'samu. my dad got a job in tokyo, and i got into the uni there. i can’t stay even if i want to.”
osamu shakes his head, tears escaping his eyes like a dam finally breaking through. he’s had enough. he can’t have his best friend leave him, and he knows it’s selfish to think that way, but he couldn’t help himself. not only were you his best friend, you were also atsumu’s everything. and you couldn’t just leave without telling him, that would be unfair on many different levels.
“he’s an idiot for sayin’ all that shit to ya, but c'mon. you can’t just leave like this without tellin’ him,” osamu reasons, “’s not fair to him. just because he hurt you, doesn’t give ya the excuse ta just up and leave like this.”
“'samu,” you whisper, “even if i tell him, it’ll be all for nothing. you know my train is tomorrow.”
“you suck, ya know that?” the boy only looms down at his lap, his voice becoming quieter. you chuckle, closing the distance between the two of you as you rest your head on his shoulder, “i love ya, though. i’ll miss ya.”
“aww,” you giggle, “you finally admit it.”
“stupid ’tsumu loves ya more,” he mumbled under his breath, “yer like a sibling to me but yer the love of his life.”
your voice was like a caress, soft and gentle, in sharp contrast to the cool metal biting at the skin of his throat. oikawa could feel the length of your body pressed against his back, was acutely aware of the steady rise and fall of your chest. feigning calm, he adjusted the lapels of his suit.
“not so surprising considering you’ve been waiting for me to come out here since the ball started,” he drawled, the slight bobbing of his throat as he spoke causing the blade to cut into his skin. a thin line of blood smeared the edge of the dagger, a slow trickle rolling down his throat, staining the collar of his white shirt.
“i knew you’d come,” you breathed, your lips soft where they brushed against the shell of his ear.
“how’d you work that one out?” he teased, lips quirking upwards in a smirk, his hand reaching backwards to stroke gently down your outer thigh.
“you like a bit of danger,” you stated simply, teeth catching on his ear lobe and tugging gently. oikawa drew in a sharp breath, swallowing slightly, all his senses narrowing to that single point. the feel of your lips on his skin was almost enough for him to forget about the blade at his throat.
“do i?” he questioned, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, the sudden contact making you falter slightly. with one swift movement, he rolled your arm downward, pinning it to his chest. “because i think it’s you who likes a little danger.”
Author’s Note: Just a little drabble I thought of about what Tendou’s first kiss would be like :))
Tendou Satori
Tendou’s first kiss with you was syrupy. His lips were chapped, which made for a rough kiss, but his tenderness made up for it. He was gentle, and excessively sweet, two qualities he was not known for. Most of all, however, he tasted like chocolate syrup. The redhead had begged to share a sundae with you; which was quite odd as he was notorious for hogging whatever ice cream he could get his hands on. He drenched the sweet in syrup, and merely laughed when you complained about it being too much.
Tendou poured many feelings into the kiss. Pent up feelings of love and desperation were felt. He was desperate for affection, and desperate for his fill. It was almost as if he was scared you’d reject him after this show of affection.
Tendou had never romantically kissed someone before. It was rather embarrassing considering the fact he was a third-year in high school, so he had tried his best to keep it a secret. (Well except the time he was playing a heated game of never have I ever—he was dead set in beating Semi) He was inexperienced, and any amount of practice with a pillow would not have prepared him for the actual ordeal. The sensation of you kissing back was phenomenal! It was nothing he would’ve expected…especially since this kiss was a spur of the moment mistake.
He was frazzled when you parted. His mind was in a daze as he tried to wrap his head around what happened. His thoughts ceased, however, when you tangled your hands into his hair and pulled him in for another.
