#haikyuu x gender neutral reader

Reader:Gender Neutral
Character:Tetsurō Kuroo
Rating:M
Summary:Sometimes you just wanted to get high with your boyfriend after a long week at work. And there was nothing better than making brownies. 
Warning:Fluff, Recreational Drug Use
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In the small apartment you lived with Kuroo, you two were seated on the couch. He was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of his button up shirts with all of the buttons undone. You were in a pair of his boxers and an old white t-shirt. 

You had spent the afternoon making edibles. Your personal favourite, brownies. Kuroo multiple times had to stop you from licking the spoon. To save it for the finished product. And now a few bites in of a bit corner piece (the best piece), you were starting to feel the high come over you.

It started with becoming a bit too aware of your hands as you scrolled through your phone. Then a weird sensation in your nose and then the high set in. You felt loose, happy and so deeply in love with your boyfriend of the last few years. 

You put your phone on the coffee table once more and leaned over to the table to grab the plate with the brownie on it. You took a bit bite and melted a little at the chocolate chunks that Kuroo haphazardly threw into the mixture before baking. 

You made a pleased noise and Kuroo chuckled. You felt his dry lips on your face as you took another smaller bite before you put the plate back down. Kuroo’s voice was in your ear soon after, “Don’t overdo it, kitten. Don’t want you greening out on me.” 

You giggled a little and gave him a big grin, hints of chocolate smeared across your teeth, “I’ll be fine.” 

He just chuckled and kissed you on the lips. His hands on your shoulders as he continued to kiss you, bit by bit the kiss became deeper. He thought you looked really beautiful right now. In nothing but his clothes, eating the brownies you made together, getting high after a long weekend. 

When he pulled away from the kiss, you yawned a little bit. You had a little too much and were starting to get a little sleepy. Kuroo smiled at you and moved a little bit so you were more comfortable on the couch. He watched you kick your legs up onto the table and snuggle into his side. 

He was starting to feel the effects of his high as he held you close to him. He yawned a little bit and scratched his jaw a little bit. The weight against him felt comfortable, you also looked adorable as you tried to stay awake as you got higher.

Your eyes drooped a little bit as you watched television. Your yawns were big and loud as you snuggled closer to him. The fabric of his sweatpants felt so comfortable against your hand as you brushed the side of his thigh lovingly. 

  “Sleepy baby?” He asked with a grin.

  “No.” You grumbled as you buried yourself further into his arm. Another yawn left your lips as you felt the sense of drowsiness overtake you. He thought you looked so adorable.

You two watched television together, Kuroo spaced out for a little bit as he switched between the weather channel and the local kid’s network. He occasionally looked over to you and kissed you on the lips gently. 

You made a little noise at the kisses but looked like you were fighting to stay awake. Your eyes occasionally closed but would instantly open again. But then closed again eventually. It made Kuroo chuckle and kiss you more. 

He eventually zoned out at the high set in. He moved a little closer to the arm of the couch and rested against it. He couldn’t decide if he was hungry or tired. He let out a small yawn and his stomach growled. 

Yeah he was both at the same time. 

  “Babe?” He eventually asked as he looked down and saw you fast asleep beside him, your mouth slightly open and softly snoring. He took one look at you and chuckled, “Someone had a little too much.” 

He moved away from you and let you occupy the couch fully. You laid out carefully, sleepily grabbing the throw pillow and putting it under your head. Kuroo licked his lips, thinking about what to snack on while you fell asleep. Maybe if he didn’t eat the entire bag of chips, he’ll leave some for you. 

Reader:F
Character: Kentarō Kyōtani, Ryūnosuke Tanaka
Rating: M
Summary: “can we get some kentaro (i can’t spell sorry) or tanaka jealousy content ” - @usually-unusaul​
Warning:Jealousy, Implied Smut
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Kyōtani wasn’t a jealous type of guy. He wasn’t someone who got jealous often when it came to you hanging out with other people. If it was someone he knew then he didn’t get jealous, a little protective if someone got too close. But not jealous. 

But when it came to strangers Kyōtani became protective. Arms wrapped around your waist, teeth bared, possessive kisses along the column of your neck. 

  “Kentarō!” You yelped when he wrapped his arms around you and laid his head on your shoulder. 

He glared daggers at Kuroo, who thought it was acceptable to come up to you and start to flirt with you. Kyōtani overheard the rooster head talking to you and trying to impress you with how well training was going. 

  “Oh.” The dark haired man said, as he looked from you to Kyōtani, “You have a boyfriend.” 

You sighed, “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” You reached up and held onto Kyōtani’s arms that were wrapped around your shoulders. You clutched your boyfriend to keep him from going full Mad Dog on the rooster head.

You knew the dog would win against the bird. 

  “Don’t touch my girlfriend.” Kyōtani remarked as he tightened his grip on you. He kissed the side of your head and you leaned your head back to give him another kiss. 

  “The Mag Dog, that’s a choice.” Kuroo smirked. 

  “Better than a rooster.’ You bit back. You were snug in your boyfriend’s strong arms. You kept your gaze locked with Kuroo’s, you were going to get the message across. You were happily taken. 

Kuroo’s smirk only grew, “Well congratulations, Kyōtani. You got yourself quite the catch.” He then turned away from you two and said, “I’ll see you all at practice then.” And walked off. 

When he was out of sight, Kyōtani turned you around and kissed you deeply on the lips, “Let’s go someone more private.” He said, “I need to suck a mark on your neck.”

You blushed, “But practice is starting soon!” You were the manager after all, you both needed to be on the court. 

He just pulled you in for another kiss, in front of so many people. He leaned into your ear after he broke the kiss and said, “Then let’s make it quick, kitten.” 

It was always Oikawa, because how could it not be Oikawa. His arm wrapped around you during training camp. How close he got to you, his lips almost to your cheek made Tanaka see red. 

  “I’m going to kill that bastard!” Tanaka snapped but was held back by Sugawara and Daichi. 

When you noticed the commotion, you broke away from Oikawa and quickly went over to your boyfriend to calm him down. As you walked away you heard the brunette said, “You know where to find me, chickadee.” With a wink.

Which only made Tanaka see a deeper shade of red as he thrashed in the grip of his friends. You put your plate down and went over to him and took his face in your hands. 

  “Ryu, baby.” You said, “What’s going on?”

  “I’m going to kill that playboy bastard!” Tanaka snapped. But was instantly calmed down when you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. 

He went slack in his friends’ arms and he was handed over to you, where you held him by the waist and kept giving him kisses. You apologized softly and shot glares at Oikawa, you thought he was being nice but in reality he liked you! That wasn’t okay, you were dating Tanaka. 

  “I’m sorry, baby.” You said as you held onto Tanaka as best as you could. He pressed himself up against you and rubbed his face against your neck. 

  “I hate him.” He grumbled against you. 

You chuckled a little bit, “I know, but don’t worry. You’re the only one for me. I was trying to talk to him so we could figure out how he plays better. I thought ht was just being friendly.” 

  “How dare you take advantage of my girlfriend!” Tanaka yelled at the other player who was considerably farther away now.

Oikawa just stuck his tongue out and called back, “Well maybe if you didn’t have such a hot girlfriend, this wouldn’t be a problem.” 

You blocked Tanaka’s path to the other boy and wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. You held him close to you and kissed him on the lips to distract him.

You prayed that he wasn’t going to kill or fight anyone. But eventually you walked away with your boyfriend in tow. And when you were along, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around you and zipped it up to your chin.

  “That’ll teach that bastard a lesson.” 

You chuckled lightly and kissed him on the lips. You knew once training camp was over and you were back home, Tanaka will truly show how possessive he was over you. 

Reader:Gender Neutral
Character:Kōtarõ Bokuto
Rating:M
Summary: “hello! could u pls do a yakuza!bokuto au where he’s literally crazy and incredibly feared but he loves and dotes on the reader like crazy?” - Anon
Warning:Yakuza AU, Reference to Abuse, Fluff, Minor Angst, Age Gap (Bokuto is 30, Reader is 22)
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Anything you want, Bokuto bought for you. Being one of the most feared men in the country, he was basically untouchable. He was great with a weapon, especially his sword that had been passed down through the generations. His arms and back were lined with tattoos showing off the bird imagery. He was the great horned owl, the most fearsome of its kind. 

His hands were caked in blood, along with lining the pockets of local politicians. He ran clubs, brothels, casinos, everything was touched by his power. Those gold eyes spelled trouble and unless you were part of the family, being in the court of the owl was never a good thing. 

But there was one weak spot in the great owl. The heel that could strike him down if anyone found out about it. They never attended any meetings, rarely seen at parties, but was the closest thing that Bokuto, the owl, had to love. He called her his little bunny, the docile little prey of the owl. But instead of eating you alive, he cherished you lovingly. 

You were his little bunny, and he adored you. You were a simple college student, you used to work at a local cafe where you met Bokuto. Where most people were scared to even look at him, you talked to him every day with a bright smile and a tiny bit of flirting. Bokuto was enthralled by your boldness, but in reality you didn’t realize who he was until your first date when you started asking about the tattoos. 

When he told you his profession, you blinked at him and went “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” And that made Bokuto’s heart both sink and melt. There was a trace of fear in your eyes that settled when he told you that he’d never, ever hurt you. That’s when you said, “A lot of people have hurt me.” 

Which made Bokuto hurt for you, especially when you got into more detail about your life with your mother. How cruel she was, the words she’d say to hurt you, the reminder of how useless, selfish and evil you were, even when you did nothing wrong. When you recalled a time where she yelled at you for not cleaning out the coffee pot to her liking, Bokuto knew he had to get you out of there. 

  “I’ll give you any money you want.” He said, “any amount and it’s yours!” He told you this on your second date after you barely touched your food because your mother mentioned how much weight you had gained. 

  “I can’t accept your money Kōtarō.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t be fair, not this early in the relationship. You earned that money, I can’t very well take one big lump sum. She would get suspicious anyway.” 

  “Then I’ll give you an allowance! Every week you save the money I give you and then you can move out, or move in with me! You can, ummmmm, do household chores and you’ll never have to work again!”

You chuckled and poked at the pasta you were supposed to eat, “How about we see how this relationship goes, and then maybe I’ll take you up on your offer.” 

He perked up, “Sounds like a plan. For now, eat up, or I’m giving you some of my lamb.” He pointed his fork at you. He was usually so threatening but you saw a side of him that couldn’t be denied, he was soft for you. The fearsome owl had a soft spot for you. 

Almost two years of dating, you were just about to finish university and looking for next steps. And Bokuto was there regardless, during that time however, you moved in with him and carried an allowance. But still had ambitions to go to graduate school and pursue higher education. Life got better after you got out of your mother’s home, there was no more hurling hurtful words at you, you were praised so much that sometimes it frightened you. Bokuto was your number one fan, even when you got a sixty on that biology paper. 

You took up most of the household chores in the mansion, when you weren’t in class you and a few of the men that Bokuto worked with cleaned up the mansion, you found it relaxing almost to scrub dishes, especially when you played the classic jazz records that Bokuto had. 

What you weren’t expecting was for him to come home so early. You hadn’t even started dinner yet and suddenly you found a pair of strong arms around you. You almost dropped the expensive plate when you jolted. 

You thought it was an intruder but in reality it was the soft embrace of your boyfriend. He rested his head on your shoulder and asked, “What’s for dinner tonight?”

You put the plate down and tuned in his arms. You cupped the side of his face that carried a large facial scar.You rubbed the faded red mark on his face as you said, “Bobo.” Your fond nickname for him, “Don’t scare me like that, you’re too quiet sometimes.”

He chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before.” Then leaned in for another kiss, then another. Until you pulled away and laughed. 

  “My silly, Bo.” No one was ever allowed to call him ‘Bo’, but you had special priviledges far beyond anyone else. You were his weak spot and got away with most things, like calling him cute names and under spending your allowance (You had all the money in the world, why are you still buying hundred yen ramen?).

  “This is a good record.” He chuckled as he pulled away and took your hands in his, “Indigo Jam Unit.” He smiled, he knew the names to all these records. 

Bokuto loved you and he was glad that he was able to get you out of that hateful household. You seemed happily and healthier now that you were free of her, more smiles and cheers crossed your face. You were his beloved, of course he wanted you to be okay and happy. 

As he gave you another kiss, you moved together in almost sync. Your socked feet matched well with his dress shoe ones. You laughed when you danced together, a smile on your face that made Bokuto’s heart bloom.

You were safe here, in the arms of the feared owl. 

  “I love you.” He smiled as he swayed with you in the kitchen. His hands in your as your bodies moved together. 

  “I love you too, my great owl.” You replied with a peck on the lips.

Bokuto giggled and pressed his forehead against yours, “My sweet little bunny.” 

MEMORIES.

pairing:oikawa tooru x gn! reader

genre:angst, heartbreak

cw:hints at a past toxic/unhealthy relationship, might contain errors

wc:tbc

an:i wrote this half asleep

you‘ve dreaded for this moment to come.

you‘ve tried to drag it out for as long as you possibly could have. but one can only do so much when something, had already been written down on your faith book. all that dodging goes down the drain when his brown eyes look you up and down while he stands by the door way.

“hey.”

“oh,”

just by looking at him, you can feel all the memories hit you like a truck. all the things you‘ve done just to drag this moment for so long, falls straight to that hole, dragging you by your ankles.

“how‘re ya?” he smiles so sweetly as if he had not just broken your heart merely months ago, as if he hadn‘t ripped it into shreds right before your very eyes, speaking so casually as if he had not just left you there as a broken piece.

“what’re you doing here, oikawa?” you hate that you easily allowed him to walk into your life again just by ringing your doorbell. you hate how easy it is for him to walk back into your life and act so casually. you hate how easy it is for him to see your protective barriers dissolve into thin just because you saw him.

in short, you hate him.

“i just want to talk.” oh, there he goes again, seducing you with his tongue as he did before. those words of his, they fall so easily from his lips. whether he knows it or not, it surely makes an impact on you. an impact you wish would not sway you.

“i don‘t want to. goodbye.” is your stern reply before you shut the door out. there is no desire in you, nor does you brain allow you to talk to him. however your heart, it so deeply wants it, no matter how irrational it may seem.

and as if he had heard your heart‘s desire, he sets his foot between the frame and the shutter. his hand on the wooden door as he looks at you with his pleading brown eyes.

“please,” he pleads. you hate it. “i‘ve— i‘ve got no one else to walk to. you‘re the only one i‘ve got left. i— i can‘t hold it in anymore.”

you hate him.

you hate this situation.

you hate it all.

you hate it so much because you allow him to walk into your home with his face falling into the crook of his neck. you swallow thickly as you shut the door with your foot, feeling his tears fall unto your skin as his hands clutch your waist ever so tightly; like you‘d run away if he doesn‘t.

as you lead him to the kitchen with his sobs falling past his lips, you also feel your tears brim your eyes. all your efforts are gone, simple as that, within the blink of an eye, gone as if it had never existed in the first place. you tried so hard to move on. for months and months on end, actively distracting yourself so hard to get over him.

it was stupid of you to think you‘re actually over him when you know deep inside you‘d let him so easily walk back into your life like this.

“i can‘t do this anymore, (y/n)!” he cries. a bottle of wine in his hand as he curls himself on the corner. you wish to yell ’so can‘t i!’ at him as well, but you can‘t. if you do so, you feel like you‘d break your fragile heart even more.

time passes just like that. and now it‘s quarter past three. you‘re intoxicated, and so is he. he‘s a sobbing mess, and you‘re no better.

“c— can‘t we just go back to the way it was? before.. before it was all so complicated..?” he cries, looking at you with pleading eyes. with those words, you only feel more tears bleed from your eyes as your skin grows warmer.

“tooru—” you stutter, clenching your fists as you wrap your hands around yourself. “we- we can‘t keep doing this, okay? i— i can‘t be your friend, we— i— we‘ve just gone through so much! and i feel that if we become friends again, it would just through away everything we had had. everything we kept so sacredly would be nothing.”

“no! i— we can try again—!”

“no we can‘t!” you finally exclaim. fat tears are dripping harshly from your eyes as you put your hands on your head, clenching the roots of your hair tightly. “no matter how hard we fucking try it‘s never going to work out! the ending will always be the same because— for fuck sake— you and i were never meant to be in the first place!”

as much as it hurts you to say so, you have to say it. the truth hurts, and it always will.

“so please… don‘t make it harder than it already is. we can‘t keep doing this anymore, tooru.” you mumble through your sobs and he looks at you with his tears already down his neck, flowing harshly like a river.

silence wallows you both. only the sounds of tears, sniffles, and sobs echo throughout the room. the smell of heartbreak reeks harshly in the air, evading the once cool air, causing it to go stuffy.

“i guess— i guess we‘re never going to be it, huh?” he bitterly says to himself, looking at the ground as he swallows hard. “there really is no going anywhere with what he had, right?” he grits through his teeth, looking up and swallowing as he holds back the sobs stuck in his throat.

“tell me, did me showing up ruin things for you?” it seems like he has become sober, as if all the alcohol he had downed went out of his body. “because when i came here, i couldn‘t get a grip on myself. i wanted to maybe see, see if you would still take me in. i wore the things you like so that i‘d make even the slightest appeal. but i guess— i guess it won‘t do shit.” his voice falters with every line due to the emotions stuck on his throat.

you have no idea as to what you should say, because in truth, you‘re no better than he is. there is not a single bone in your body that‘s not telling you to run to back to him, but your mind seems to freeze your movements, saving you from the heartache.

“we- we never really went anywhere else, tooru.” you shakily sigh, looking down at him as you bite your lower lip. “so, we shouldn‘t be eachother‘s reason as to why we can‘t fall in love with someone else.”

you feel like dying as he nods, showing that he‘s agreeing. you don‘t want him to agree. no matter how much it hurt you and traumatized you to be with him, you can‘t just put him in the back of your head to be eventually forgotten.

“if— if this is then— let me— i—” he can‘t even comprehend a proper sentence. hands in his hair as he bawls his eyes out right there. you don‘t even notice it, when he runs up to you and hugs you so tightly. his hands are on your waist as he cries on to you, head above yours as he smells the familiar smell of your shampoo, hugging you tightly as he kisses your head. “i— i‘m sorry. we— i broke us off. i‘m sorry i broke your heart. but i can‘t let you go. my heart leads to you all the time, no matter where i am.”

“tooru—”

“but if me clinging unto you will hurt you more, then so be it.” he sadly whispers, giving you one last squeeze as he kisses your forehead lovingly, tears damping you up. “i won‘t drag this further. i‘ll set you free, set me in the past, and move on. i‘ll just take what i have left here so that you move on and forget about me.”

you can‘t even respond, unable to move as he walks past you, straight to your room. it breaks your heart worse, hearing him rummage through the closet you both once shared. it‘d been left untouched, you left it be. maybe because a part of you really hoped to let him back in. yet it with the turn of events, it won‘t happen anymore.

you stand there for as long as he finishes. he finally has everything he owns. the book you both read, the stuffed toy of him that he gave you, his highschool jersey that you loved so much, the shoes he owns that matches with yours, and lastly, the photo album you had made for him.

“i— i‘ve got it all.” he whispers, looking down as he clenches his full hands hard. “i‘m— going. i won‘t hurt you any longer.” his eyes never failed to meet yours as he speaks and he doesn‘t dare take a step towards you, in fear that if he does, then maybe he won‘t be able to leave after all.

“so maybe, this is goodbye.” he chuckles grimly with a forced smile, yet you cannot seem to return to him. not the chuckle. not the bitter smile. yet instead, the goodbye.

as the old saying goes, saying goodbye entails that you‘ll never see them ever again. you can‘t even bring yourself to speak as he walks away with a heavy heart, sobbing quietly before the door closes so loudly yet so quietly behind him. silence envelopes you as you fall to the ground before loud wails of heartbreak come from you.

now that he‘s gone, said his goodbye, he‘s no longer coming back, and now you‘ll be forced to let him stay merely in your memories.

content belongs to @shisnhou on tumblr! do not repost, copy, use, or modify!

RISES THE MOON.||suna rintaro

suna rintaro is tired.

and so are you.

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.

this is painfully unedited.

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.

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader fluff

 cw: the reader has a little sibling, i hope nobody minds, there’s one line of very slightly implied nsfw, you won’t even notice

meant for kiyoomi’s birthday! happy b-day to my favorite boy <3 

one of the first things you’ve learnt about your boyfriend, even before your relationship started, is that he rarely shared personal information with anyone. he’d go as far as put up a fake birthday on his social media to avoid the awkward wishes and tons of yet another gifts from fans he so didn’t like going through. apart from that, there was a lot of weird things going on with birthdays, in his opinion: for instance people automatically thinking about zodiac sign or assuming other things, insisting to have a party, (a surprise one was his biggest nightmare) and a whole lot of other stuff he found appalling.

so it was just simply easier to say his birthday is “mid november” and get on with his life as if he didn’t just straight up lie. and truth be told, many times had you heard that “oh, in summer” or “right before christmas” before you got to know the truth. it wasn’t that easy on its own, but ever since his first little white lie, you knew he wasn’t true with you, and kept insisting, until he finally pulled you to the side and told you his real date of birth, the one only komori, atsumu, and, as he used to say, “unfortunately” his family knew.

march 20th was the date, and since you wanted to tease him, a grin appeared on your face before you mumbled “so a pisces, huh?” and earned a glare so cold and deadly, you visibly shivered before apologizing.

the next thing you learned about him and his birthday, was that he was picky about gifts. which went well with that “i’m an old fashioned gentleman” facade, because he could just say “oh, you don’t have to buy me anything. your company will be enough” with a slight smile he’d practice for years, and people thought he was just being humble and polite. spoiler alert: he wasn’t. he just didn’t want to deal with his own pickiness, and explaining to people what precisely would he like to get was too much trouble, and took away the magic of it even for someone as blunt as kiyoomi sakusa.

it’s not like birthdays were such a big deal for him, anyway, he didn’t need any gifts or parties to celebrate the fact that he just got one year older. what was so fun about that? but like the pain in the arse you were, you kept asking him what he wanted for the occassion way before he asked you out, and he hated it, but not more than he hated the way his heart jumped at the possibility of getting something you spent your time on. 

the first year of your friendship, you got to know the basic thing: omi doesn’t like gifts. gifts make him uncomfortable, he didn’t know what to say, how to act, what to do with it… does he open it right then and there, or wait, but why would he immediately thank someone if he doesn’t even open it? schroedinger’s cat: if he doesn’t open it, it might as well be thin air inside the box.

it was confusing, and weird. you also learnt that it was all caused by the fact that no one was in the house to celebrate young omi’s birthday back in his childhood days, since his parents were working and his siblings long away in college, so he just assumed it was a holiday to be overlooked and not dwelled too much on, and got so used to it, that now it bothered him to be in the center of attention for once. 

the third thing you learnt that year: it was almost impossible to find him a good enough gift, at least from your perspective. you spent literal hours at the store, looking at the different things he might’ve wanted, but nothing caught your eye. you called all his friends, yet he hadn’t mentioned the thing he’d like to anyone, not even komori. so you decided you’d go with instinct and remembered one cold morning when he showed up to practice grumpier than usual, and when he was asked what’s wrong, he answered:

“i woke up late and didn’t have time to make coffee”, half mumbling, half actually speaking, eyes too tired to be annoyed, legs slowly sweeping one before another as if he was forced to come here. And that’s where you got your idea. 

His first birthday with you, being his 21st, had started terribly, because it was wishes from his family. He’d told you multiple times he’d rather have them forget that send those copied off the internet lines that mean less than a “go fuck yourself” 

later on atsumu insisted or telling everyone and it took poor omi more than twenty minutes to convince him not to, and as both the setter and the spiker weren’t in their top moods nor form, MSBY lost a match they had that day. so all he wanted to do march 20th 2017 when he came home was to lay flat on his couch and play with his dog’s fur while watching a crappy TV show. he most definitely didn’t expect you sitting in front of his apartment’s door, tired, almost asleep. 

he sighed, approching you and slightly nudging your foot with his, making you shake your head and look up. 

“you’re back!” you said with a smile, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“and you look like a homeless person” he responded upsentmindedly, avoiding you to reach the door lock. only after you got up did he see a small package you held behind your back. “it’s not a right day to be celebrating me, y/n” he added, opening his apartment’s door and letting you in with a hand gesture. you went inside, not for the first time ever, but every time the feeling was the same, intimidating and cold. 

“why do you think that?” you said, taking off your shoes and putting them on a rack, and turning around to see him navigate you to the bathroom. you placed your bag and the gift on the floor before following his steps. 

“didn’t you see the match? i fucked up big time” he chuckled ironically, looking at himself in the mirror, and you could witness the disappointment and anger in his eyes. 

“so every time you guys win and you get the credit, you say that volleyball is a team sport, but if you loose, suddenly it’s your fault?” you smirked, but to your surprise he nodded. 

“precisely”. 

“well, regardless, it’s a minor set back. you’re still the best they make” you tried to cheer him up, but only received an eye roll in return. “aaaand, you’re a birthday boy today!”

“don’t remind me” he sighed, walking over to the kitchen to see what he can make for dinner for himself and his uninvited guest, meanwhile you grabbed your gift and walked up right behind him, tapping his shoulder lightly. 

“happy 21″ you whispered, a slight, soft smile on your lips, as you handed him the package. he looked at you with a tired look in his eyes. 

“you know i’m not the biggest fan of gifts” 

“just open it, grumpy face” you whined, and he gently took it from you, placing it on the counter and carefully unwraping it, to see a thermal mug. he sent you a questioning look, before you explained “you were complaining about not having enough time to drink coffee before leaving, right? well now you don’t have to drink it before leaving” 

there was silence for a long while before he looked up from the mug and gave you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. “that’s so thoughtful of you” he said, and laughed a tiny bit, probably to cover his emotion, which obviously didn’t work “thank you.”

omi likes thoughtful gestures. 

over the second year of your friendship, as he and his career gained more recognition from the public, he was “forced”, as he’d reffer to it, to share such a personal information that is his birthday date. the managers always claimed that it’s not a big deal, that it’s just gonna be added to the oficial page and his wikipedia, but judging from the amount of gifts atsumu, bokuto and hinata always received, he had his reason to doubt that. 

and as it turned out, he was right. 

because starting from march 10th, his personal mailbox as well as the oficial MSBY’s mailbox has been FLOODED with different things that he really had no energy to go over. and so, he invited one of his best friends to help. 

so it was late at night on march 19th, and you were both sitting on the floor of his apartment, a mess of ripped wrapping paper all around you, loads of different stuff laying on the table, as you still had a lot of things to open. 

“what even is the point in sending presents to someone you’ve never met? i mean less to them than their neigbour’s dog and yet i’m the one getting gifts? this is messed up” he kept on complaining, opening another package. 

“it’s called being famous, sakusa-kun. you mean very much to people you’ve never met, because your journey to where you are now inspires them to keep going on their path until they reach their dreams” you said with a smile, confident it’ll ease his worries, but it didn’t. 

“don’t know if i consider being in the Jackals my dream, though”

“you mean, you don’t think being a key player in a division one team is not a dream come true?” you asked, shocked. 

“no, no, of course i think it is, i’d never thought i’d reach this far, but, there’s more things to be done, it’s not like i’m an accomplished person just yet” 

that, you found interesting. 

“really? than what are your dreams, sakusa?” you asked in a low voice, eyes fixed on his face, as he focused on reading a letter in his hands. 

“national team” he murmured “MVP, a golden medal, a legacy that goes beyond just me” he opened up as if it was nothing, as if he was talking about his grocery list “but that all wouldn’t mean a thing if i were there alone, though. i’ve received plenty awards and mvp’s over the few years that i played, but i guess what would really matter, and make everything else worth remembering, would be… having someone be proud of me, i guess”

you felt your heart getting soft and fuzzy at the confession, wanting to respond, before he handed you the note he was silently reading. 

“this is a poem, y/n, a POEM! what the hell, i don’t even understand what’s going on there” he whined, throwing his head back to rest on the couch seat, as you giggled, reading the note. 

“it’s nice” you said in a high-pitched tone, pushing down a laugh. 

“it’s too… sophisticated” he uttered, looking at you, a tired look in his eyes. “that’s my mother’s thing, to be sophisticated, i like simpler wishes, they’re easier to believe” 

omi doesn’t like fancy words.

you nodded, but before you could say anything, your phone rang, and both of you looked at the screen. the hour on display marked midnight, and as the alarm ranged, the words “omi’s b-day!!!” appeared on the screen. he smiled subconsciously, noticing how you always address him as “sakusa” or “sakusa-kun” but the notif in your phone stated “omi”. 

“looks like it’s the 20th already, birthday boy” you grinned, turning off the alarm. 

“don’t call me that, what am i, six or something?” 

you decided to ignore the comment, and smiled at him warmly before speaking, almost under your own breath:

“happy 22, sakusa. i wish you only to be here to hear me say happy 23 next year. and say so with pride.”

his eyes appeared foggy and glossy, but it was probably fault of poor lighting and tiredness. 

“why stop at 23?” he asked, before standing up, and offering you his hand to pick you up, too. 

omi likes very real wishes. 

over the third year of your friendship you became very close. ever since that night on his living room floor, both of you couldn’t wrap your minds about anything other than each other. neither of you oblivious idiots found out what it was about, but day after day and month after month it was harder and harder to spend time apart. 

before he could notice, sakusa always tried to find you in the crowd before serving, and that’s how he always used up most of his time. once, he even heard ushijima complain “how much longer are you going to take? be a man and beat me without your good luck charm!” 

his good luck charm, huh?

you kinda liked the sound of that. 

you also found yourself texting him every random thought that came to your head, sending pictures of everything, becasue you wanted to share as much of your life as possible, meeting up whenever you could and facetiming whenever you couldn’t. 

it all started to go downhill when atsumu, bokuto and hinata started noticing. noticing the way he’d smile at his phone, the way he’d wink, smile, tease, joke, speak, even the way his eyes wondered when left unfocused, and a dreamy look covered his vision. 

and they started to tease, and joke, and make his life all more difficult, just because “omi has a crush!”

because he didn’t. right? he didn’t have a crush on you, for sure, and it only annoyed him, how childish they were about it, how insufferable. they got on his nerves so bad that he stopped responding to all the messages, stopped smiling, joking around, and all, just to prove his point, 

his point he knew was no longer standing. 

and so atsumu would ask, after one of their practices, “hey omi, is your lucky charm picking you up? some birthday dinner, maybe?” he’d nudge his side with an elbow, raising his eyebrows. 

“i don’t know” he mumbled “and stop calling them that”. the brunette kept looking for something in his bag, just to avoid atsumu’s tiring, curious glance. 

“fine then, how about your significant other?” he continued teasing. it’s not like sakusa would hate that scenario, of course he wouldn’t, yet his mind kept spiraling - what if you came in and heard that? what if you assumed he was calling you that behind your back?

what if you didn’t feel the same?

“stop butting in my relationships for once, miya! how many times am i supposed to tell you i’m not in any way romantically involved with them? i don’t even like them that much!” he lied, straight in his best friend’s face, fed up with all the jokes and smirks behind his back, and judging from atsumu’s shocked expression, and the color running away from his face, it worked. 

“what, don’t you have anything to say to me now?” he kept going, before atsumu shook his head, and pointed behind kiyoomi’s back wordlessly. the spiker raised an eyebrow, turning around to see you, in the flash, eyes wide open, a tiny little package in your hands, wrapped so neatly in colorful paper, with a little bow tie at the top. 

even from a distance he could already half see, half imagine tears prickling your eyes before you smiled sadly, dropped the box from your hand and let it fall to the floor, and began walking out of the gym room. 

“no, no no, y/n, wait!” he started shouting out, but your ears seemed deaf to his pleas, as he ran up to the door you just walked through, leaving atsumu alone, but with a condescending smile. 

“i don’t like them that much my ass, omi-kun” he whispered to himself before walking over to grab his things. 

meanwhile sakusa ran out to the reception room of the stadium, but as it turned out, it was filled with fans waiting for them all to come out, so they could wish him happy birthday, and it seemed impossible to get through the crowd and reached you, especially considering you were already at the exit door. 

he looked around himself and noticed all the people, how many of them were there, and how close to him, and got paralyzed in place, wanting to move, or disappear, that’d be for the best, and yet he couldn’t even move one foot. 

soon enough he felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back inside, his savior apologizing to the public.

“sorry guys, we have one more thing to go through! he’ll be out shortly” atsumu laughed off, before closing the door and handing omi the gift you left. 

the spiker mindlessly opened it, only to find out a spotify code inside, put in between a glass frame. he took out his phone from the bag and scanned it with his app, gasping audiably when the page loaded. 

lay back in the arms of someone by smokie showed up on his screen, and a smile crawled up his lips before he remembered how badly he fucked this up a second ago. 

he narrowed his eyebrows before looking up to find the blond setter’s eyes. 

“atsumu” his friend’s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing his first name, instead of surname “is there a back exit from here?” 

atsumu miya smirked. 

“bet ya there is, mr i-fucked-up-big-time” he answered, theatrically offering his hand, before taking the lead. 

you on the other hand, came home peacefully, although hot tears were streaming silently down your cold cheeks as you entered the apartment’s door and looked at the calendar, showing the date of march 20th. in a sudden wave of aggression you ripped it off, knowing that there’s nothing to be so pressed about: he had no duty of feeling the same way towards you, why would you even expect it?

you went on with your day, ordering takeout for dinner, snuggling up on your couch and rewatching a series, not granting your thoughts access to yourself, and it was really going well, until you heard the doorbell ring. 

“nobody’s home” you yelled, assuming it was either atsumu or bokuto on their way to cheer you up, and they’ll probably let themselves in as soon as they hear your voice, but that didn’t happen. instead, the doorbell kept on ringing. “ugh, just come in!” 

they didn’t come in, so you lifted yourself off the couch and walked over to the door, opening it and gasping a tiny bit when instead of your dumbass friends holding McDonald’s you saw a one hundred and ninety two centimeters tall figure of a man, struggling to catch his breath, leaning on your doorframe, his black coat unbuttoned, cheeks red, eyes puffy and hair in a mess, not even gelled into place as they always are. 

“can i help you?” you asked in a cold manner, voice sending daggers into his poor, confused heart, as he finally looked up to meet your glance, an apologetic look in his eyes when he tried to form a sentence. 

“i think i can… no, way, i think i might…” he kept struggling, to which you only rolled your eyes, waiting for the continuation of that sentence. 

“spit it out, sakusa” you stated, sending shivers down his spine with how annoyed you seemed. 

yeah, spit it out, sakusa, he thought to himself before taking a breath and finally speaking up correctly:

“i think i might be in love with you.” 

your eyes widened for a second as you tried to find evidence of honesty in his expression, tone, voice, because you definitely didn’t believe his words. 

his heart dropped when you scoffed. 

“i don’t need your pity” 

that’s when it hit him:

omi doesn’t like to spend his birthday without you. you make it not only bearable, but fun. 

in fact, he never wanted to spend it without you again. and as that realization made it’s way into his brain, he caught you closing your door. 

“i respect you too much to pity you” he spat out as he placed his hand in between the door and the frame, making you unable to close it, even if you wanted to. 

and there was the honesty you looked for. 

“then why—” you started to wonder, but he shook his head before interrupting, a helpless look across his face.

to lay back in the arms of someone

“i’m afraid of… of this, okay? i’m afraid of falling in love, if this is any explanation for you. it’s like… you make me feel as if i’m on the top of the world” he laughed nervously, making you raise your eyebrows, before continuing “and it’s fucking scary to imagine falling from that high” 

you give in to the charms of someone

his glance wondered all over your face to find crumbs of understanding, scared you’d laugh his confession off, a grimace of worry replacing the insecure smile painting his lips, and he was just one step away from shouting “i’m telling the truth!” at you, but you cut him off by opening your door fully, and welcoming him inside with a warm smile on your lips, and a reassuring sentence on your tongue.

happy 23rd, kiyoomi

“i think i might love you back”

omi likes feeling loved. 

the next year flew by on both of you pushing each other’s limits, challenging each other like the both of you always needed, being there for each other, finding out how nice it feels to have someone there. it was coming home with a sore throat after a night of yelling “one more point, omi-omi!”. it was carefully intertwining your pinkies together while shopping without even realizing. it was awkward dates, because the label “date” always changes the atmosphere. it was taking weird selfies, it was having to part for out-of-town games and facetiming from hotel rooms. it was butterflies in the stomach and a ball of fluff in mind. 

it was everything. 

the first year of your official relationship flew by in no time, kiyoomi finding new joy in his birthday since now it was really a day to be remembered, marking your anniversary. 

and just as you got home to his apartment after dinner, ready to unpack all the fanmail once again, the janitor of the building stopped you. 

“sakusa-san, there was a flower delievery for you” he sighed, going towards a locked shelf and coming back with a bouquet, at which kiyoomi stared for a whole five seconds before you decided to take it. 

“thank you for taking care of it” he muttered with a slight bow, you pushing him to go up the stairs. “who’s it from?” he’d ask you a minute later, halfway through the staircase. 

“don’t you wanna check yourself?” you asked, but he frantically shook his head. 

“check it for me, please”

omi doesn’t like flowers.

you nodded wordlessly before checking a card. 

“well if i’m not mistaken this is your surname” you furrowed, struggling to read the handwriting. in your defense, the kanji for “sakusa” are quite complicated. 

he looked over at the text before admitting “yeah, that’s from my aunt, she insists on sending those ever since i got into MSBY” he finally got to his door to unlock it “kinda sad how she didn’t even bother writing a text before” he chuckled, making you want to throw the flowers away. 

you knew he considered them worthless if that’s the story behind the nice gesture. 

the apartment door remained opened, but he didn’t enter, you almost stumbled over him, focusing on the note, and glanced over to see what caught him attention and prevented him from going inside. 

“this is your surname, for a change” he stated, showing you a buffy envelope over his shoulder, but didn’t let you take it when you tried. instead he opened it himself, a neatly wrapped package inside, with a note at the top:

i wore glowes making it! i swear!

there was a typo in gloves, and the writing style could use a little work on it, but that didn’t affect kiyoomi at all, as he was hypnotized with his package after noticing your surname on it. he carefully opened it, to find a keychain, made from cubes, as the ones used in different boardgames, on every one there was a letter or a number, together forming the writing “kiyoomi 15″ with a heart at the end. it was all on a black string, and almost shined with how many times it was wiped before sending. after holding it in his hand for a while, he noticed another card at the bottom of the package, taking it out and reading out loud:

“please take care of my sibling. happy 24th!” he uttered in sheer amazement, as he grazed his fingers over the delicate ornament, before wordlessly going inside the apartment. 

you followed him, closing the door behind you, worried about his reaction about your little sibling’s present, only to find him crouching before his couch, his training bag laying there as he tried to attach the keychain to the it’s zipper, smiling when he managed to do so. 

before he got to turn around to face you, you managed to take a photo of him smiling at the newest addition to his training gear, and send it to your family with a caption:

omi likes personalized stuff. 

over all the years of knowing kiyoomi, you’ve learnt so much about him, his life, his habits, everything. you knew him inside and out, and so he knew you. you’re laughing at your confusion and fear while you were buying his first birthday gift, as you sit on the floor in your shared apartment, plotting his 25th, biggest yet gift, as if he isn’t about to walk through the door, coming back from practice. 

it’s almost ridiculous, how you struggled, wondering if he’d even like a gift, when right now you have a whole list in mind:

although omi doesn’t like gifts, he likes little thougtful gestures. he doesn’t like fancy big words, but likes real, honest wishes he can really take to heart. he doesn’t like spending his birthday without you, he likes feeling love, doesn’t like flowers, but does like his gifts personalized and touching. 

you realize all the moments in your relationship made you know his every emotion and expression, but you’ve never seen your precious boyfriend cry, ever. 

and you decide to change that. 

you’re gonna make him something that’s gonna mask all the memories of his birthday being forgotten, walked pass by, pushed into the back, and not properly celebrated. that’s gonna outshine every single gift he’s ever got. that’s gonna make him so happy, he’ll cry.

an idea pops into your head as you get a pen and start writing. 

dear kiyoomi,

_______

“dear kiyoomi” you get to hear him say a couple of nights later, he reads it out on your plea, with a smile across his lips, as you, atsumu, bokuto, meian and hinata, as well as omi’s older siblings and komori and osamu sit at the table, a cake and two traces of his favorite cupcakes are taking all the space possible.

omi’s voice is colored with a couple of glasses of wine, so it’s easier to him to relax and genuinely grin at the paper as he’s reading, all part of your plan. 

“when i first met you, the first thing i found out is that you’re a private person. not that i was freaked out or anything, but you did have, and probably you still do, a heavy aura around you that may have flustered me a tiny little— a tiny little bit? smiles, your hands literally shivered” he stopped to comment, making you roll your eyes at him.

“zip it and keep reading, birthday boy”

“… a tiny little bit, i agree. nevertheless, the first thing i actually felt, was that you striked my soul as someone weird. thanks, baby” he interrupted again, but you urged him to keep reading. “… weird in a way that made me feel like i’ve never felt before, the kind of safe and terrified at the same time. terrified of what, you might ask? well, kiyoomi, here i’d like to quote you. you once told me that me loving you is like i had the power to break you, and you loving me back was like giving me a map with all the points to strike at. well if that’s the definition of love we’re going for here, than i not only give you a map, i’ll grant you a whole GPS. the trust you put in me every day to not take advantage of what you’ve given me is inspiring, and hence, i surrender every single point of ressistance i’ve held against you, i’m yours to snap at a wish, and trusting you that you won’t do it is something i can spend my life believing in.” 

at this point kiyoomi had to stop and take a deep breath and a sip of his wine before continuing, clearing his throat a bit, chocking back his emotion. 

“… throughout my years by your side, i’ve memorized everything there is to memorize about you and gifts. you generally aren’t a fan, but you like them carrying a lot of thought, dedication, you like them meant exactly to you and to you only. you don’t want pointless blabbing and overused sentences, you enjoy sincerity. you need love radiating from them in order to truly acknowledge them as something special. now, the last thing i know is that you don’t like flowers, but i hope you won’t be too angry with me and with what i’ve prepared for you. enjoy, signed, your smiles” he finished, looking up at you, already moving towards the counter, grabbing a bouquet from behind it. 

he watched in amazement as you handed it to him, taking it in his hands, realizing that- 

it was a bouquet of origami flowers. 

“please, y/n, this is so—” he tried to find the right words, but once again, nothing came to mind as he watched your careful work from every side possible. 

“shh, there’s a special thing to them” you explained, sitting back in your seat, exactly in a straight line from him, watching every single change in his expression as he tried to find what you meant. 

he realized every flower had a little card sticking out from it’s center, and pulled the first one, the closest one to him. 

“the first reason i love you” he read in a weak voice, chuckling nervously again before he found the courage to read it out loud “you make me feel protected” 

he looked up at you with such a gentle and caring note in his eyes that you almost didn’t want to encourage him to keep reading it, but you did. 

“two. you don’t smile too much” after that he raised an eyebrow, but read the next one “three. …but when you do, you outshine the sun itself. four. you memorized my coffee order within the first two times we’ve been to a caffee. five. you got supplies to redo my coffee order without going to the— hey i swear i didn’t mean anything bad by it!” 

“that’s literally the reason they love you for, idiot” atsumu laughed, urgining him to keep reading with a hand gesture. “come on, this is adorable”

“six. you have a playlist with songs that remind you of me. yes, i know this, omi, we share a spotify account. seven. you claim you don’t like interacting with people, but let a little girl propose to you with a cereal ring in the park.”

“this is too cute, omi is a softie” bokuto whined, hiding his face in his hands, but sakusa only slapped them off. 

“am not. eight. you keep a mental score of all the times you won over ushijima. nine. you take way too much pride in beating atsumu in service aces”

“true that!” atsumu shouted, hiding behind his glass. 

“ten” sakusa shook his head. “you don’t enjoy PDA, yet gave me the kiss of the century when i met your mother, just to annoy her. eleven. your childhood photos are too cute. twelve. you blasted hopelessly devoted to you the morning after we— i’m not reading that, idiot!” he half laughed half whined, in a high-pitched voice. 

“omi-san knows how it’s done, apparently” hinata wheezed, komori accompanying him. 

“did i ask?” he rolled his eyes and went back to picking lines from the flowers. “thirteen, you tug the corner of my sleeves when you’re stressed in public. fourteen, you have me saved in your phone as your good luck charm. fifteen. you put my head on your chest when i can’t sleep at night, to calm me down. sixteen. you make me laugh when i’m sad. seventeen. you almost never intent to make me laugh, yet always do. eighteen. you always make sure i’m carrying all the emergency items all me at all times. nineteen. you make me call you when i get home from a party, if you aren’t there to pick me up. twenty, you always insist on picking me up from wherever i am, because you’re worried about me. i mean yeah, what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i weren’t?” he genuinely asked, half of the guest shaking their heads. 

“come on, five more to go, you adorable, clueless idiot” motoya pat his back and looked over his shoulder to see your careful handwriting, before sakusa hid the message from him. 

“twenty one. you make me not worry about my future. twenty two, you try to do all your little morning rituals in advance when you leave, so i don’t miss you too much. i still do. twenty three, you’re never afraid to be bluntly honest with me. twenty four, you always ask if you can hug me when i’m low or crying. and twenty five—” he stopped more suddenly than anywhere before, eyes visibly watering before he dropped his head down and his it in his arms. 

“what’s on there?” several guys asked over themselves, as omi kept laughing slightly, hiding tears in the sleeves of his fitted shirt. 

“you’re gonna be the death of me” he murmured into the material, making everyone laugh, including you, who decided to walk over to him and hug him, resting your head on his, taking advantage of the fact that he was sitting and you could reach it. 

after a moment of weakness, he showed his red and slightly puffy face, two trails of tears fitting his smiling expression as he struggled to say 

“twenty five. you make me prouder and prouder every day.” he kept laughing through his tears, really trying to hide his emotion and failing miserably. “you really did try to make me cry on my birthday, didn’t you?” he looked up to you still embracing him. 

“i suppose i did”

“well then, i’m gonna outshine you” he said, shifting in his seat in order to get up, wiping the last remains of tears from his face. 

“what do you mean?” you asked, met with his confident smirk. 

“you’re gonna see in a bit, trust me” he huffed, dusting off his pants’ material on the knee level, and reaching over to his pocket, in his hand a tiny, little box. 

with a little more than an origami flower. 

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader soulmate au (the last words your soulmate will ever say to you are written somewhere on your body) 
content warning: general angst, major character death, mentions of funeral, car crash, hospital

you wish you could’ve said tears made your vision blurry. but after all these days, your eyes were perfectly dry, no little rivers were streaming down your puffed cheeks, and you were forced to stare directly at your wrist, and the words tattooed there by some idiotic magic. some cursed, freaky foolery that made you rethink your life the past two days at least ten times, searching for even one mistake, for even one moment you could feel something wasn’t right. 

but to your dismay, there was nothing. everything in your life fell to pieces so perfectly, as if you were the princess in a dream of every five year old girl in the world, only now could you realize, it was all too good to be true. well, except one part. 

the words stared back at you, burning into your flesh, your glance holding them into place, as if they were to disappear if you did as much as blink. 

“and one day more”, the tattoo said, directly and clear, never changing tint painted your skin black, no matter how desperately you wanted the letters to shift into something else. you wished to be hated right now. you wished for it to be an insult, and yet, the words remained as cheesy and painfully romantic as the first day you saw them. 

so he wasn’t your soulmate after all. 

all these years, never once had you doubted that. since the moment atsumu introduced him to you, since the moment he said “oh and i guess this is omi-kun, but it’s not like you’re gonna have a conversation wi—”

and since the moment he interrupted. 

“i am perfectly capable of introducing myself, miya.” since the moment he glared at him, fingers constantly running through his hair, all messy from practice, by which he was visibly annoyed. 

“hate to break it to you, but my actual prefered name is a bit more mundane than that cursed nickname” 

“hey, i came up with that! it’s not cursed!” atsumu pouted, half mockingly, half serious, 

“precisely” he mumbled, making the setter narrow his eyebrows even more, before huffing and proceeding to leave, “i’ll be coming back to practice. it was so nice of you to come! just yell at me if you want me to rescue you” he winked, and soon was gone. 

“so? are you actually going to tell me your name?” you asked, one eyebrow raised, as his eyes focused back on you.

“please, like you don’t know” he chuckled, internally surprised with himself that somehow, his usual anxiety and disgust wasn’t kicking in, instead he felt relaxed and in place when talking to you, even if it was no more than thirty second since you met each other. 

“oh, so you consider yourself a celebrity, huh?” you laughed, causing him to shake his head. 

for a second he didn’t respond. you were starting to feel startled with the way he started at your smiling lips, but then he blinked finally, and answered. 

“i have places to be and balls to spike,smiles. let’s just say…”

and that, that was the precise moment since which you knew. since the one line he said before running off, a smug smile you should never be able to see, and yet you did. you were sure and certain. this was your soulmate. 

“… i only share that information with people i actually like”.

“sure you do, omi-kun!” 

since that moment, your heart began to settle and as much as you pushed that thought away, saying that you were too young to know, and after all you just exchanged a couple of truly meaningless sentences with him, you couldn’t deny the fact that you knew. knew for a fact, that you’ve found your own person. 

it was so random and sudden, so casual, countless evenings did you stare at your mirror and let your mind wonder, trying to find answers as to why you were feeling so strongly so fast. it was uncharachteristic of you, even if you were ever in love, you didn’t believe it could happen on such first sight, and yet there you were. was it the magic your parents always told you about? the one so inexplicable that they always stated that “you just have to feel it”, and “you’ll know when it comes”?

you thought it was just your lonely brain pulling tricks on you, until that one night you decided to hang out with the MSBY team, and went to tsumu’s apartment, waiting for hinata, meian and sakusa along with tsumu and bokuto. 

you didn’t pay much attention to their talk, it was mostly plans for the upcoming season, until they shifted the subject. 

“hey, did you ever read what was on omi’s wrist? he never covered it, but maybe that’s why i didn’t pay attention” the blonde wondered, his fingers playing with the edge of his glass. bokuto shook his head. 

“no, i think it’s too personal to check. why’re you curious? you hope you’re his soulmate or what?” he laughed in his usual, loud way, and the word “soulmate” called for your attention. 

“no you weirdo, it’s just he started covering it recently, and i just wonder, did he meet his other half?” 

“my ma’ always said that there’re no other halfs, because you’re a person on your own”

“yeah yeah, cute, but not the point here, bokuto” atsumu sighed. “and he didn’t even tell me… bastard.”

there was comfortable silence between the three of you for a few brief seconds, before the blond setter started the topic again:

“hey, you’re oddly quiet, where’s your tattoo located?” he asked with genuine curiosity in his eyes, as you glared at your wrist, covered loosely with the bracelet you wore over it ever since you got the tattoo, it being something so intimate you didn’t want to share it with the entire world at once, concealers didn’t work on the ridiculously black tint, and the bracelet made it harder to read. 

“you didn’t notice? thought you were observant?” you teased, making atsumu roll his eyes and take your hand into his, pushing the piece of jewelery away to read the caption. 

“it’s on your wrist too? awh, maybe you’re omi’s soulmate!” he exclaimed looking at the writing from every angle possible. 

“what’s written on there?” bokuto asked, not wanting to shift from his seat across the table. 

“oh, it’s and—”

“we’re here!” hinata yelled at the same moment, giving you an opportunity to move your hand back. 

and so it stayed a mistery. 

you shifted onto the bed you shared, still messy after you both woke up those couple of days ago, earlier than you were supposed to, because of a text he got from his mother. a text that set him off for the entire day and finally caused everything that happened next. 

your heart couldn’t stay still when you put your head over the pillow, the familiar scent of the other side of the mattrace hitting you no matter how hard you tried to hold your breath. 

you noticed a small package laying on a nightstand next to your fiance’s side, and you went over to grab it, eyes getting hot when you realized what it was. 

a set of band aids. 

omi wore band aids on his wrist for as long as you could remember, but according to atsumu, he only started wearing those after meeting you. they were always on the inner side of his wrist, and after a while putting them on was his routine, it grew on him so much he didn’t even really think about it - just bought a pack once a week and put it on 2 times a day, for it to stay hygenic. didn’t make it a big deal or anything, but if you asked, he’d turn really gloomy, while also trying not to worry you too much. 

“hey, weirdo, let me see what’s under that band aid. you of all people should know that if you get a cut, you can’t have it covered all the time, it won’t heal like this” you muttered against the couch you were laying on, gently grabbing his hand by the little finger, only for him to jerk it away, not even moving his gaze from the book he was reading. 

“it’s not a cut” he just mumbled, eyes following the printed letters in utter focus. 

“then why do you cover it?”

“i don’t want you to see it” he explained straight away, in the blunt way he always would, not finding any reason to keep it away from you.

“why?” you asked sincerely, apparently enough to bring his eyes away from the book. he reached out to grab the tips of your fingers into his and slowly rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, a soft smile wondering on his face but never actually reaching to lift up the corners of his lips. 

you couldn’t help but grin a bit yourself, making him raise an eyebrow. 

“quit smiling at me, i can’t stop messing up what i’m saying if you look at me like that” 

you giggled. 

“like what?” 

“nevermind, dummy. just… don’t worry about it. just trust me and don’t check, okay?” he pulled your hand to his chest so you’d come and sit beside him in the armchair. you curled up against his chest, hair still wet from the shower damping his t-shirt, enjoying the smell of his perfume and the delicate, intimate aura of the moment, even though curiousity wouldn’t let you out of its hold. 

“is it your soulmate mark?” you asked, remembering the conversation between you and atsumu, about how he started to cover it. 

“thought i told you not to worry, didn’t i darling? can i trust you that you won’t check?” he mumbled against your hair, and let out a breath when you nodded. he trusted you wouldn’t, and you didn’t.

although now you wish you did. 

“what’re we reading?” your sleepy voice ended the silence in your living room after a while, your eyes too tired to see for themselves. sakusa shifted and relaxed in his position, taking a breath before he started telling. 

“it’s called the orange girl. it’s a story of a boy reading letters from his dead dad, who wrote them while terminally sick, about a love story he shared with a girl, whom he met on the tram, she got his attention because she was holding a basket of oranges. she then disappears and shows up at random places at random times, acknowledging him but never actually talking, and they continue this hide and seek until she gives him a riddle, which he solves. they can’t be together for long, since he’s sick, but they had to, since their love was so true they couldn’t stay away from each other without falling into pieces. they were like the glue holding each other together, the mistery being the only shared link they had for a long time” he kept lowering his voice as he felt your head growing heavier and heavier against his chest, to the point he practically whispered. 

“that’s… sad” you mumbled, half passed out, and he tried so hard to surpress his laugh, so it doesn’t bring you out of your blissfull state. 

“i don’t think it is, no. see, they didn’t have much time with each other, but that was enough for them, they cherished every moment and would much rather spend so little together than eternities alone. no matter how long she’ll have to spend alone before meeting him again, she’ll love him forever, and so will he, even though he’s not physically there, i think it’s poethic.” he stated, getting hair out of your face, gently leaning forward to put the book down. 

“just as i’ll love you.” he added, now thinking you were asleep completely “even if you’ll hate me. come on, big baby, let’s get you to sleep” 

come to think of it, he always said he’ll love you forever. never an eternity, always forever. in his proposal, it was “always and for always” and whenever you fought and made up it was “for as long as the sun shines in the morning”

never an eternity. 

it’s not like it was something bad, he could be really a master of his words if he wanted to, and if he ever used that one, you’d obviously get scared and tell him to quickly say something else, not to tease fate too much, but he never did. 

as if he knew. 

you wanted to show him just as much you respected him and his privacy after that night, scared by the last sentence he said, and thought you didn’t hear, and made it your goal to find a new set of band aids for the both of you. it was often “look, omi! i found ones with elza, from frozen! she reminds me of you, so here. take these” 

“excuse me? if i get elsa, you get swen”

“why the hell would i get swen?”

or that time when for your anniversary you had ones custom made with some of his favorite song quotes. it was an inside joke, not much of a joke but much of an inside between the two of you, that always put a smile on your faces while still reminding you that before love, before passion and before even friendship, there was always trust and respect between the two of you. 

and that reminder was often needed. 

he could be a sappy romantic, at times, but it was still the sakusa kiyoomi you met that first day, still a blunt jerk, accents on jerk, still closed off, still a bit egoistic and cold at times. you two had similar tempers, and it often resulted in fights. very often. 

you loved his fierce attitude, you adored his honesty. appreciated the straight forward notices when he didn’t like something you did, and liked the way he always spoke what was on his mind when around you. but sometimes what was on his mind didn’t exactly cover what you wanted to hear. 

as you put away the box of band aids, your hand grazed over the photoframe still damaged from the one time he had to glue it back together after one fight, after he threw it on the ground to let out his anger in some way. 

you yelled at him for your fair share of over twenty minutes, and only when your voice started to get sore, did he start talking, but whenever he wanted, venom could cover those sweet words he’d so often whisper, as if his sentences were sharp enough to cut through glass. 

“why can’t you just let someone care about you?” you’d shout, voice cracking at the end, causing you to put a hand over your throat, realizing it’s time to stop talking. 

“because you won’t understand! you’ll never understand! that’s the thing, y/n, you may try as hard as you want to, but in the end, you’re too—” he’d manage to bite his tongue before saying something he didn’t mean, and yet your eyes widened. 

“too what? too stupid? too much of an idiot to mit the intelectual standards you have set? is that it?” you’d drag and tease, as every muscle in his body would tense up, fists curling as he’d take the frame and smash it onto the ground, soon realizing how much of an overreaction that was, but not just yet. 

“stop putting words in my mouth! i never said you were stupid, for fucks sake—” 

the door closing behind you would wake him up from his thoughts, as he whispered a quiet “fuck” under his breath, and go after you. 

nevertheless you’d never leave, you always went to the bathroom, put some water in your face, take a few deep breaths, and by the time you were ready to go face him, he’d already have calmed down and would be ready to talk, apologize if it was his fault, forgive if it wasn’t. 

cause after all, you were soulmates. 

you were meant to be with each other. you wouldn’t survive with each other. two puzzles of the same picture, fitting perfectly, and not with anything else. 

right?

he’d mutter the lyrics to can’t help falling in love while he’d occasionally do your hair, he’d come behind you while you were cooking and rest his chin on your shoulder. leave notes in your lunch. 

he was the most thougtful person you ever met. the most precise in his actions, most affectionate in what he was capable of doing for you, most selfless in giving his all into bringing a smile on your face. 

one night, he came home from practice, and there was just something so weird about him, you remembered, about the way he smiled almost like he was fifteen again, all excited and hyped. 

you lifted yourself up from the bed, finding it hard to move, since the ache in your heart was roaming throughout your entire body,leaving you tired and defenseless. however you managed to get to the dresser, and search for one through your shirts. 

“so, you know how i’m not the biggest fan of merch, right?” he said, his eyes lit up as he turned around to grab a nicely wrapped, loose gift from his bag. 

“i know? you don’t understand the hype people get from wearing things that have your surname on it, you’ve told me countless times”

“yes, but—”

“you’ve also told me that doing figurines of living real people is somewhat creepy”

“yeah, that too—”

“and that the plushie they made with you scares the living shit out of—”

“i know! i know! but listen” he’d say, handing you the package. as you began opening it carefully, he continued “you know that because of privacy policy they can’t make the merch jerseys the exact same as the real ones? the merch has the surname and number smaller by 2 centimeters, and the space between each letter is wider by exactly a half of a centimeter. and since we’re redoing the shirts with a slightly different design, i ordered—”

“you ordered one more for me” you whispered as you held the soft material in your hands, the paper laying somewhere on the ground, by your feet. 

“i ordered one more for you.” he finished, scratching his neck in a nervous gesture “i know that i’m not the best boyfriend—”

“fiance” you corrected. 

“fiance, when it comes to letting you wearing my things, so i hope this makes up for it in a way?” he suddenly flinched as if he remembered something right in that moment “oh, and…” he reached to his bag again “these are my perfumes. if… oh my god, this is so pathethic, why was i so—”

you took the bottle out of his hand, and, since he didn’t like to hug right after coming home, you gave him the brightest smile you could. 

“it’s perfect. you’re perfect.” you muttered, hand moving upwards to ruffle his hair and mess with him just a little bit “come on, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready”

would it be a violation of your agreement if you just wore his shirt now? it’s not like he’d come check. you didn’t need your own-his shirt right now. you didn’t need to have “the one original that no fan will ever have”, you didn’t give a fuck about those 2 and a half centimeters of difference that meant so much to you. 

you hastened to open the bottom drawer, and then, folded nicer than your version, was the real, real sakusa kiyoomi number 15 MSBY shirt, the one and only, a little harsh from being used and washed a lot, but right now, there was no softer fabric in the world. 

you hid your head in the folds of the jersey, begging for the tears that you knew damn well were building up to finally come out. 

“you idiot” you whispered, “you idiot, you idiot, you fucking idiot!” louder and angrier every time you began wailing, the black material being the only thing covering your screams. “why’re you always so stupid? so… so fucking precise? couldn’t you spend one night, one night without me? one night in anger? you’d still be— you absolute, fucking idiot, sakusa!” 

only anger and frustration came to your heart as you recalled all the things he did with you. 

all the dances to classical waltzes at three in the morning in the small light over your oven. 

your walks with his dog, faces white and noses red from the winter cold. 

all the events you’d go to along with him, when he’d dress up all pretty and would ask you to do his tie, even if he was the master of the art himself. 

the time he actually taught you how to tie a tie, while you were both drunk talking in your bedroom after a college party. 

all the things he did for you. the good morning forehead kisses, the cups of hot tea with the exact amount of additions you liked, the way he always wrapped your scarf a little bit tighter around your neck, the way he’d remind you to wash your face if you were too tired to motivate yourself to get up and do it. 

why would he do all those things with such ease, how did he memorise every single line of your character, every single habit you ever developed, if he

wasn’t your soulmate?

your sharp breath began to even out after a while, as you recalled the most recent events. 

he was very set off that morning. his mother, who he hated with all the hatred available in his heart, texted him something about an alledged family dinner he had to go to that evening. 

the text woke you up at six in the morning on a saturday, not making a great start to a day full of nerves. ever since that text, he’d been more irritable and annoyed than the usual. he didn’t finish his morning coffee, he got splashed with rainwater by a car while on his run, everything was wrong. 

everything was wrong. 

you left the stage of your relationship where you were afraid of making each other mad long behind you, and yet you were kinda afraid to ask for the basic things that day. like, what did his mother text him? why did it annoy him that much?

you didn’t know that at the time, but what woke him up wasn’t a text, it was a burning feeling under his band aid. he lifted it, noticing you were still sound asleep and looked at the writing. nothing had changed, but it was burning hot, and didn’t allow him to stay asleep. 

“what the hell?” he mumbled, rubbing the skin, as if that was supposed to help, but there was no result. 

“mm?” you mumbled, asleep, and he just glued it back on and laid down next to you again. 

“nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

nothing, don’t worry about it was a phrase he overused. not that he wasn’t comfortable with you, no, it was the complete opposite, but as he was raised in a very traditional way, some things were just meant to remain a secret.

it was a sort of protection he’d give you, protecting you from his dark thoughts, his mind that often didn’t listen to his commands, from himself, putting it short. 

little did he know, all you ever wanted was to see those parts of him that he kept caged from you. 

that was the one difference between the two of you that nothing could get over, but, even in a puzzle, elements have to be different in order to fit, right?

right. 

you called yourself stupid as you recalled that now. 

turns out you would fit, just… not together. but why would someone be so perfect for you, why would your heart jump out of your chest every time you saw him, if it wasn’t meant to be? why did it feel so right if it just wasn’t?

as simple as that. he wasn’t your soulmate, after all. 

that night, you got into a fight. you finally told him how many fucks you give about him wanting to protect you, how secretive he is, how dumb and idiotic, and weak it makes you feel. how you hated it. 

you glanced at the delicate ring placed on your finger, and sadly didn’t recall the moment he’d put it there with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, but the moment you almost took it off the other night, driven by emotions and stupid, selfish motives. 

if only you knew then… if only. 

you wouldn’t say “do i even truly matter to you, kiyoomi?” you wouldn’t laugh sarcastically, you wouldn’t stare at him as if he was the worst person on earth. you wouldn’t make him feel so worthless and so pathethic. 

“of course you do. that’s why i don’t want to get into it, what’s so hard to understand about that? why is so hard for you to accept, that i may just have things that i’m not gonna share with you? where is that privacy and respect you so like to talk about, huh?” 

“kiyoomi, respect for privacy is one thing, you’re just isolating yourself from me! what, did you get bored of me? did you realize i’m not fit for your fantasies anymore? is that it?” you did know you shouldn’t have said that in the first place, you knew you did it purposely and only to hurt him, but emotions have taken over your brain completely. 

“what the fuck! i know you’re just trying to make me more mad so i say something i regret, don’t think i didn’t catch up with your sick methods already, mrs smart!” he turned around to face you, a heartbroken look in his eyes, as if the trust he had for you was disappearing by the second. instant regret hit you, but that was just the deal between you two, nobody knew when to zip it and back off. 

“oh so i’m suddenly so bad, huh? so hard to deal with, is that so?” 

his face went all white, blood rushing away as he heard those words. 

“that’s right. i heard you talking with atsumu.”

“hey no, you’re taking it out of context, i would never mean it like that and you know it damn well”

“do i? do i know it damn well, kiyoomi? or do i just try to believe in something about you that just isn’t quite there?” tears appeared in the corners of your eyes as you realized it wasn’t about the text anymore. 

“no. no, no, no, no, don’t go there. you need to calm down, you’re being ridiculous!” 

“iam being ridiculous? I AM being ridiculous? you’re the one that makes me hate you right now!” you shouted, as you turned around, grabbed your keys and phone and left the apartment. 

it’s fine, he told himself, you just went over to the bathroom like you always do, but minutes and hours flew by and he realized you truly… left? he searched everywhere, and you just weren’t there. he began to panic. 

especially with his tattoo burning it’s way into his skin even more. 

it doesn’t matter where you went, it doesn’t matter for how long. what matters is when your phone finally rang from someone else than sakusa kiyoomi and you picked up, it was the worst possible call you ever got. 

he was at the hospital. 

car accident. 

drunk driver. 

it was so obvious, it was so basic, it was so… idiotically predictable. 

you obviously rushed there, obviously with fear at heart, but you didn’t fear him leaving you forever. he didn’t say his “and one day more” yet, right? he couldn’t go. 

you checked every document, talked with every doctor, with every relative already present, even dealth with his hell sent mother and overprotective sister, and dismissed every single bad news, every single “he might not make it”, every “i don’t know wether he’ll wake up, it would be a miracle.”

and when you entered the room, he did look as if he was he was one foot in his grave already. you were careful to reach out to to his forehead over all the little cables and tubes, and get his annoyingly curly locks out of his eyes. 

“why did you follow me, dumbass?” you whispered, eyes set on his closed lids. “you know i’ll always come back to you. i love you too much to leave, you know that, right? you’re aware? why did you do such a dumb thing? you’re smarter than this! we’re smarter than this!” you whined and whined, but to no response. 

his mother gently informed you that it might be time to say goodbye, but you didn’t listen, you didn’t care. it wasn’t the day he’d die. 

you stayed in his room alone for a little while, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb, mentally apologizing for being so, so difficult, and stubborn, and—  and stupid! 

you didn’t know what it meant when all the devices started beeping suddenly, you had no idea. 

but even you would recognize that line that was supposed to jump at the speed of his heart rate going straight. you’d recognize that awful beep. that deadly calm on his face.

“hey. hey, hey, hey!” you started shouting. “don’t you dare leave me yet, you idiot! we still have so much to do together, no, no, no start working! start fucking working!” you screamed at his still heart, looking at the dark screen. 

“no. no no no no no, i refuse, i won’t let you do me like that, sakusa, you hear me? you’re not allowed to—” you began panicking as you shook your fiance’s body desperately, barely managing to even move him a bit. 

“wake up, you idiot, wake up!” was the last thing you said before your words started blurring together and becoming an incoherrent mess, before the doctors got into the room, before some nurse escorted you out. 

that was the last time you’ve seen your boyfriend.  

and now you were supposed to be getting ready for the ceremony, you were supposed to act like the composed, grieving partner, his never-to-be spouse, picture perfect form of sadness, yet you couldn’t pick yourself up from the floor, where you were sobbing in the material of the damn jersey, ironically, cause he’d be so mad for it, if only he was there. 

honestly, anything would be better. any screams, silent treatment, any fight, any tears, anything. would be better than this. 

because not only were you incapable of picking yourself back up after loosing your only love, you were also painfully reminded that this man, the man that meant the whole universe to you, he wasn’t your soulmate. he was never in the plan for you. and you were so mad, at whoever was up there, at fate, at god, at whatever, you couldn’t believe it, you felt like a glitch in a system. 

he had to be your soulmate. 

and yet the last words you heard and are ever gonna hear from him were “you’re being ridiculous”. 

as you tried to get up from the floor, hands clenching around the material, you realized you have no idea what time it is. 

you had no idea where your phone was, at that. you didn’t check it in over three days, you didn’t have the nerves to read all the “oh my god, are you okay? i’m so sorry for your loss”bullshit. 

they would never understand “your loss”.

so as you finally found it somewhere in your purse, it was all out of battery. it took a while to charge it, and after you realized how little time you have until the funeral begins, you received a ton of messages all at ones, just as predicted.

you didn’t mean to go through them, you truly weren’t in the place to do so. but there was a chat that was always pinned at the top of the list. 

your eyes widened. 

1 new message from:

omi <3

your fingers and breath both shook endlessly as you pressed the highlighted font, eyes watering finally when you realized, 

it was a voice message. 

it took a while before you pressed it open. 

sounds of traffic were heard, as if someone was calling you from inside a car. “hey there, smiles, it’s me, your favorite douchebag of a boyfriend! no, without all the jokes, we all acted on impulse, didn’t we? i’m sorry for all i said. you know i am. just let me explain it to you in person, okay? i’m driving around here, but you’re nowhere to be found, and your friends don’t know anything about where you are, neither does atsumu. you can be mad at me all you want, but please come home, okay? it’s getting late. we can fight but i won’t stop worrying about you ever, i won’t ever stop caring. please, baby, please tell me where you are? you’re not picking up, so that’s why i’m leaving you a voice message…” 

your heart was beating like crazy as you listened to your boyfriend’s voice, realizing this will be the last thing you’ll ever hear him say.

“… anything is better than not knowing if you’re okay, y/n, any screaming and yelling you have planned for me, truly. i didn’t mean what i said, and neither did you. but i do mean that i will really try to be more open with you, if that’s what you want. i’ll try to make up for every mistake i’ll ever make. and remember, i’ll love you

for eternity, and one day more” 

after that, his speech was interrupted by a loud noise, him saying “what the fuck” and some sounds of metal being smashed. and after that, there was a whole minute of silence. 

a scream left your throat as you realized, 

he was your soulmate, after all, 

but you lost him forever. 

*

after you finally made it to the funeral, greeted by your friend and hugged tightly by sakusa’s sister, coldly glanced by his mother, you realized, the cascet was open. 

why the fuck. would they leave it. open?

“hey, sakusa-san?” you asked your fiance’s sister, and she turned around with a tired smile. 

“please honey, call me by my first name” she said gently, playing with your shirt, as if she had to do something with her hands. 

maybe it ran in the family. 

“why did they… why did they leave it like that?” you pointed towards where your boyfriend surely was, and her smile disappeared suddenly. 

“mother wanted it like that, honey. do you want me to help you go see him?” she grabbed your hand tightly and smiled, as much as she could, and when you nodded, she leaded the way. 

it was hard. it was very fucking hard. you wanted to run, you wanted to disappear, to not be there anymore. he looked as if he was sleeping. as if he was going to wake up any moment. you swore his eyelid twitched at one time. 

maybe you needed to do something with your hands too, because you noticed something wrong about his suit. 

“who the hell made that?” you asked while reaching over to his hand. 

“who do you think?” the woman sighed, pointing towards her mother. 

“he has his sleeves uneven. he’d hate that” you chuckled under your breath, adjusting said sleeves, when suddenly, your fingers grazed over the black ink on his writs. you looked, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

wake up, you idiot! said the writing. you let out a breathy sigh as you reached over to your purse, and glued one last “frozen” themed band aid over the tattoo. 

“you’re my eternity. and my more,too”

what i want | series masterlist

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

part three

part four (soon)

part five (soon)

what i want, part three

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…

TAGLIST (Some names couldn’t be tagged | pls let me know if you’d like to be removed!): @captainchrisstan @kayleighbecca @naainaax @candybabey@kiyoomi-isbae@ss-akii@na-haruka@naturakaashi@skshk@fallingw-angel@simping4u@ilhy2003@tobios-shawty@iworshipyelena@erinoikawa@kamirakiyoomiii@angrytriumphlover@namuwustudies@rikaivel@fromdelos@sprinkklz@ang3lc4k3@jadasz@hellokitty144567890@kumabs@cyberkeii@imdeadinside04@savagenctzen@whoisalexa@wolffmaiden@bakubub@malserenlty@queenelleee@whie-000@keisukeist@sakusasbitch@fandomsgotmefucked@ushygushysimp@macaronnv@megumitheblessing@regina-com@random-fandom-girl-24@rapmon-mamon@jiminslajibolala@ebiharachan@bitchingburrito@ellslove@togamydaughter

unwanted goodbyes

a/n: comeback post even though it’s short question mark

kyotani kentaro x reader (no pronouns mentioned) break-up fic, 132 words.

“Thank you for loving me.”

The pouring rain can only do so much to hide Kyotani’s tears from you. The red lining underneath his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed, and his clenched jaw and fist were hard to miss.

Kyotani’s always been a fighter, he just wished this time he kept his mouth shut.

“I know one day there’s going to be someone perfect for you. Someone who’ll love you better than me.”

He wants to tell you you’re wrong, that no one would ever compare— could ever compare to the way you loved him. But he doesn’t. He lets you believe you’re right, that you couldn’t love him as much as the next person, that he could care less about you.

Kyotani thinks this is for the best, even when it isn’t.

It’s not a pleasant feeling. This is his first birthday that Tendou has ever spent on his own, in the City of Dreams. 

Paris; it was mostly referred to as the “City of Lights”, but he calls it his City of Dreams because it is the place were his dream of becoming a chef and running his own chocolaterie came true. He’s been here for half a decade now and accomplished so much.

Not without his own hard work and sacrifices, though. And he must say, the biggest sacrifice he’s had to make so far is having to part with you. 

Usually, videochats and lovey text messages are enough to fill the distance between you both, but it’s on lonely nights like these, where he is hauling himself towards the elevator of his apartment complex — wearing his stained chef whites with a heavy rucksack slung over his shoulders — that he realises how truly arduous it is to be alone. To be without you. 

All of his movements were frigid; nothing felt right today. He scanned his key then pressed the button for his apartment.

5. The penthouse. He used to live on the second floor of this same apartment complex but once he gained the funds for it, he managed to ascend all the way up to the highest floor. 

For him, usually his residence is a symbol of how far he has come and all that he has achieved through his perseverance, but today it only reminded him of you and how you had yet to come see his new house (that he has had for over a year now). He has given you a virtual tour of it but that’s not the same as having you lie down next to him in his twin bed, cuddled up to his chest while he has his arms wrapped lovingly around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

Oh, and he remembers when he first mentioned that he had bought a twin bed, you were rightfully confused. When he is rich enough to buy a penthouse, how can he not afford a double bed? 

Well, his explanation is quite simple, really. The less space in the bed, the more cuddling that will occur. And maybe other things too, who’s to say? 

Plus, they don’t make race-car beds in king size! (Jokes, he doesn’t have a race-car bed; they don’t make them in any size above small single, and cuddling with you in a single bed would simply be claustrophobic. He does care a lot about your comfort.) 

As the lift slowly began to ascend upwards, he was left to ponder what he had done wrong. Every year, you make it a point to come visit him for his birthday, while he visits you on your birthday and most other holidays. Including pancake day. (Because, let’s face it, it’s a lot cheaper to leave Paris than it is to get in.) However, this year you said you couldn’t make it due to work commitments. 

And at first he was irritated because he wasn’t really used to you putting your work in front of your relationships. Plus, he’s gone to hell and back rescheduling appointments, just so he could see you on your special day. Why couldn’t he get the same thing in return?

But then it dawned on him that the whole reason you are both apart in the first place is because of his own work commitments. So he didn’t really have the authority to be upset with you, only with himself. 

A faint ring echoed through the elevator and Tendou couldn’t help but heave a sigh. This was sure to be his worst birthday yet. There is always next year, though. 

The elevator door parted before his heavy eyes. He’d been running on caffeine, so he wasn’t able to tell if he was hallucinating when he saw his living room floor scattered with confetti balloons and multi-coloured streamers hanging from the wall, decorating the tables and lining his couch. It appeared as though a rainbow had come crashing down on his previously Rustic, minimalist living room. 

Though he wasn’t opposed, the bright splashes of colour really did cheer him up. Perhaps the thing that was bringing him down was living in such a dull and lifelessly decorated house. Up until now, he’d accepted how the house came pre-furnished and never really interfered with the décor, but now that his eyes have been opened to how lively and optimistic his environment can make him feel, his first instinct was to rush to his computer and start searching for an interior designer. 

Of course, he will do that after he finds the person responsible for livening up his house, because it certainly was not him. It’s likely to be the doings of his landlord or a.. very friendly burglar. Because he did notice that his antique chocolate cuckoo clock was missing. 

“Hello?” His voice echoed through the living room. His jaw immediately snapped shut when he heard movement coming from the kitchen; what sounded like shuffling and humming. Though whatever it was, didn’t acknowledge him at all.

Instead of engaging with the demon that could possibly be present in his home right now, he reached out to grab the tablet that rested on the wall right next to the elevator. It was the device that was connected to all the security cameras he had set up in his house. 

Scrolling through all the footage, he finally landed on the camera view that was currently recording the kitchen and his heart skipped a beat. 

It wasn’t a burglar or his landlord. And quite frankly, he would have figured it was some sort of demonic entity before he would’ve guessed that the person in the kitchen of his Parisian Penthouse would beyou. The person who said they couldn’t have made it to celebrate his birthday even if they begged their boss for a day off. Even through a low-quality cheap camera, he was able to recognise your grace. 

Tendou smiled and tossed the tablet onto the couch, racing to the kitchen at top speed so he could finally take a look at you after all this time. You already had him grinning from ear-to-ear at the mere sight of you through a screen, so imagine the tears he wept when he was finally standing in the same room as you.

“(y/n)..” he gasped, frozen in place at the entrance of the kitchen, gazing at your figure through glossy eyes. You had a glamourous outfit on, perfectly styled hair and in your hand was a piping bag as you worked away at the final details at what he presumed was his birthday cake. 

Upon hearing his voice, you visibly tensed. Not because he was home earlier than you expected, but because it had been so long since you had heard his real voice. His authentic voice that hadn’t been altered by the quality of his microphone or the static of your wifi. It was his kind voice that called out to you, which result in you spinning on your heels and immediately dashing towards him to engulf him in your arms. 

And he wasn’t taken aback or surprised in the slightest. Ever since the moment he left you last time, he’s been prepared to take you in his arms again. He adores nothing more than your chest pressed against his, and how your loving, soft lips capture his own. For a tender kiss he wishes could last a lifetime. 

Soon, you part and his hand gently caresses your arm until he can take your chin between his index finger and thumb, to share a longing gaze. “I missed you so much.” He whispered, a foolish grin still painting his features.

You laughed, knowing that he’s only being quiet because you’ve told him off in the past for cheering and being loud when you’ve come to visit. However, that was only because you guys were in the airport and people were staring. “Tendou,” You cupped his cheek with your palm, “We’re alone, you don’t need to whisper.” 

He laughed, shifting his hand from the small of your back and resting it upon yours, “Alright, if you insist.” He took a deep breath, then yelled, “What the fuck are you doing here?!” 

You almost winced at how loud he was but just laughed since you did ask for it, and were fully expecting it. “I’m here for you. I couldn’t let you be alone on your birthday!”

His expression softened and his heart melted. How could he have ever doubted your love? What an idiot. 

He pulled you back in for another feverish hug, “You’re the best, (y/n). I adore you.” He genuinely couldn’t find the words to express how overjoyed he was to see you, on his special day. Not only that, but you brought cake! “Is that vanilla?” His warm breath tickled your ear, as he motioned to the two-tier, brightly iced cake sitting on the counter. 

“Close. It’s vanilla confetti cake!” You finally let go of Tendou, only so you could grab his hand and urge him towards your masterpiece. “Come, look!”

Complying, he walked over to the cake, but paying most of his attention to how cute you were when you’re excited, and how surreal it was to feel your hand in his. 

“I made it myself because apparently no local bakers stock confetti cake. But anyway, I iced it as well!” 

“Why is elmo on it?”

“That was supposed to be you but then I messed up so I had to turn it into elmo.”

“Ah, I see.” It was mostly covered with pale buttercream icing but on the top, there was the picture of elmo, and on the side of the second tier, black text read, “Happy Birthday, Guess Monster!” And he couldn’t help but snicker, as you and Ushijima are the only ones who still sometimes call him by that old highschool nickname, just to tease him. 

“Thank you so much, darling. I can’t believe you’ve went to all this effort just for me.” He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his chest, and this time, as he tried to catch a whiff of the cake, he noticed that you smelt like burnt chocolate. Or perhaps that was him, he is the one that works in the chocolaterie, but he’s good enough that he doesn’t burn the chocolate anymore! 

“Am I hallucinating or do you smell like burnt chocolate?” 

“Uh, you’re sane.” You grimaced, and shot him an innocent look, “Please don’t be mad.”

“What happened?” 

“I had to take your cuckoo clock off the wall to put up the streamers and I had no idea it was chocolate so when I left it near the microwave, it kinda melted.” You confessed in one breath in hopes that would soften the blow, but he didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Even if it was wood, why would you leave it by the microwave? I’m pretty sure wood is flammable”

“Because I was in a hurry! It’s really difficult trying to sneak in here, decorate the place and make this cake under three hours!” You tried to cry and express irritation, but as soon as you heard Tendou snickering under his breath, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, and so did he.

“It’s fine, doll, I’ll just make a new one at work. Or maybe I don’t need one. I was just thinking about refurnishing anyway.” He shrugged, ruffling your hair slightly. 

You nodded, biting your lip as you were hastily reminded of another piece of tragic news, and he could immediately tell in your shift in aura that something was wrong. Hence, he was already prompting you to let him know if something was bothering you, or if you were worried or feeling jetlagged. 

“No, I feel fine, Tendou. It’s just that..” You trailed off, finally finding the courage to meet his affectionate red eyes. “My boss was serious when she said she’d fire me if I took this week off to see you. So I’ll have to start looking for a job straight away.”

He hummed slightly, unsure of what to say at first as he simply caressed your arm for a few moments, in complete silence. “I’m so sorry, (y/n). But if you want, you can always come work with me.”

You giggled, scratching your neck awkwardly, “I appreciate the offer. But I don’t know the first thing about being a chocolatier.”

“I could teach you.” He squeezed your shoulders slightly and you could tell from his wide eyes that he was being completely serious. “And you could live here with me! I’ll even buy us a kingsize instead of having us sleep in the twin bed forever!”

Your throat dried and your palms were hot; it was a lot of pressure to contemplate such a big decision right now. Yet, something about this entire situation felt so right, that you couldn’t possibly say no outright. In fact, if being a chocolatier and making food was as fun as making that cake, then everything about the arrangement sounds perfect to you. You’d have a job, a home and you’d get to stay with Tendou. 

Hence, before you could even waste another second thinking about it, you blurted out, “That would be amazing, Tendou. Thank y—” Before you could even finish, he scooped you up in his arms and began twirling around the kitchen. 

“No, thank you, (y/n).” He stopped spinning but held you above him, so he could gaze up into your hypnotic eyes, “You’re so perfect. Thank you for making this the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

YOU BUY A PLUSHIE OF THEIR BEST FRIEND

characters ♡ iwaizumi, kenma, akaashi & tendou 

tws ♡ graphic plushie abuse and parent!reader in akaashi’s

HAJIME IWAIZUMI

♡ honestly, you saw the oikawa plushie sitting in the window of some sports shop in the mall which you rarely visit

♡ and that same morning you had heard from iwaizumi that oikawa would be in town and visiting y’all tomorrow, so what would be a sweeter gift to give a rich volleyball player than a miniature version of himself?

♡ hence you bought it without a second thought (well, trying your best to ignore the ungodly price they had plastered on a glorified piece of stuffing)

♡ in fact, you also thought it would be cute to show iwaizumi since he hasn’t seen his best friend in years! perhaps he’d appreciate the little token of fame that displayed how far his childhood teammate has come

♡ but you couldn’t have been more wrong 

♡ like you even went to the effort of showing it to him while he is cooking bc that is when he is most peaceful, but no.. he was still annoyed

♡ but he wasn’t irritated for long, bc who could stay mad at such a cute face? (don’t ask whether he means your face or the plushies lol)

♡ however, even if he drops the “argument” (parenthesis bc it was just banter disguised as a quarrel), the oikawa plushie will still likely be defaced within the next 1–3 business days

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ 

“ew, what the fuck is that!?”

“it’s oikawa.” you hummed, gaze flickering between the plushie and iwaizumi’s utterly disgusted expression. honestly you couldn’t see anything wrong enough with the plushie to merit such large reaction; the eyes were a bit cartoony but other than that, it was cute! 

“exactly. get it out of my house before i throw it in here.” he spat while motioning to the pot of boiling rice, attention hastily fixating on the steam rising from the water, rather than having to view that thing any longer. “how much was it?” he muttered, hesitant to even imply that he was the slightest bit interested in it, but his curiosity was strong.

“expensive.” you croaked while averting your gaze, staring at the bubbling pot and smiling as if you didn’t notice how he was glaring you down, out of the corner of your eye. “but whatever, it’s not for you, anyway. it’s for him, and i’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

iwaizumi rolled his eyes and scoffed, which is seemingly all he has been able to do since he laid eyes on the plushie, “put the receipt next to my gym bag. i’ll return it on my way there tonight.” he said in an oddly flat tone, which contrasted with the exaggerated gasp that was ripped from your throat. 

“no way!” you pressed the back of your palm against your forehead while lifting the plushie in an exaggerated manner; if he was going to make a big fuss over a piece of stuffing, you may as well be dramatic too. “just because minikawa is better at volleyball than you, doesn’t mean you have to be envious of him. i love you both equally.”

catching on to what you were doing, iwaizumi first had to suppress an chuckle before snatching the plushie from your clutches and holding it above the pot of boiling rice; poor minikawa’s fluff being dampened by the steam. “let’s see if he can swim.” he tried to utter in the most sinister tone possible, but failed as you both had already burst out laughing. 

once he was able to catch his breath, he retracted his arm from above the pot and casually threw the plushie back to you, “here.” he said gruffly, as if he hadn’t just been cackling like a maniac a few seconds ago, “but if you’re gonna give it to him, at least let me sew the thing a better outfit first.”

you hummed, raising an eyebrow before glancing at the plush, scanning it’s attire and realising it was wearing his blue, argentinian uniform. immediately figuring out what he meant, your nose scrunched with joy, “it’s fine, i’ll sew a small seijoh uniform right now. you work too hard.”

iwaizumi chuckled, reaching backwards to slip a strong arm around your waist and pull you forward, planting a kiss on the first place his lips could reach; your jaw. followed by sensual whisper, close to your ear, “thank you, angel.”

KENMA KUZOME

♡ okay it really depends which bsf you buy — kuroo or hinata

♡ but realistically, why would a plushie of kuroo exist? he’s literally an employee at japan volleyball association (or an pornstar/tax evader depending on what manga panels you’ve been looking at) 

♡ meanwhile hinata is a pretty famous athlete, so it’s not surprising when you find a plushie of him for sale on amazon

♡ kenma had entrusted you with the task of finding “a few cute gifts” to give shōyō when he comes to visit

♡ you had bought all the usual stuff like soaps and flowers, also you had the idea to buy a customised MSBY jackals bottle opener and towel, so you thought you were set 

♡ but you had never ran to the virtual check-out faster than after you saw that plushie

♡ (also since kenma is famous too bc he is a stock trader/CEO/youtuber, there is probably a plushie of him for sale on amazon too — along with kageyama — and all three of them were in the “frequently bought together” section) 

♡ kenma is terrified 

♡ it didn’t bother him too much at first; he acknowledged that he thought it was creepy but he decided not to mention it since it wouldn’t be his problem for long anyway 

♡ but then you arranged all the gifts in a hamper, which you placed on the vanity which sat directly across from yoursharedbed

♡ so when he woke up in the middle of the night and took a small sip of water, he caught a glimpse of the plushie and it’s beady, dead eyes staring him down and he literally screamed 

♡ it wasn’t loud enough to wake you up but it still left his throat sore for the next week, and he spent the rest of the night hidden under the sheets, almost suffocating

♡ when he told you to get that gremlin out of his room and you asked why, he almost had a breakdown trying to explain that he wanted the plushie gone without admitting that he was scared

♡ because if he did — since he married a menace — he’d probably end up finding ten other plushies around the house, in the most unsuspecting places and it’d give him a heart attack every time

♡ one eye open when i’m sleeping

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

upon ripping open the parcel that had just arrived, you immediately sprung to your feet and rushed to kenma’s office just to show him the adorable item you bought. 

he owns a small suction cup sign which he sticks to his door whenever he is streaming or simply does not want to be disturbed, so when you notice that the sign wasn’t up, you barged into the room with the most cheesy grin gracing your features and the plushie hidden behind your back, “guess what?”

“you bought something.” his gaze remained fixated on his PC screen, yet he replied without missing a beat. 

“correct!” you announced proudly, noise scrunching with delight, “it’s for hinata, and i think it’s soperfect.”

before kenma got the chance to utter a single question, he flinched along with his desk as a large item was slammed onto the surface. turning to look at the source, his hairs jumped to stand on their ends as he met the lifeless eyes of a ginger goblin; he could’ve sworn he saw hellfire in it’s inky pupils 

“perfect?” he questioned, voice being reduced to a hoarse whisper.

“yeah,” you trailed off, noticing how his expression fell into a grimace, “don’t you like it? look what it does!” you tone was still surprisingly lively as you pressed it’s stomach, and hell broke loose. it sounded like hinata’s bathroom song being sung by a choir of devils; the noise caused kenma involuntarily cringe and avert his wide stare, yet he could still see out of the corner of his eyes that you seemed to be.. content? pleased with the chorus of ungodly screams? wearing a cute smile too? were you both hearing the same thing?

left speechless, all kenma could think to utter was a brief, “okay.” before returning to his work. if he didn’t care about you deeply, he’d have thrown the thing out the window by now. but he doesn’t want you to think of him as irrational or manic, so he forced his mouth shut and glued himself to the chair. in fact, he was too paralysed in fear to even move his arms;bonus!

happy with the response, you picked up the plushie and began heading for the door, but kenma couldn’t help but snicker at how you held the wretched thing dear like a baby when it was literally the visual manifestation of sin. 

“alright, kenma.” you peered over your shoulder and playfully blew him a kiss, which he reciprocated — he basked in your radiance, even if it was over a cursed gift, “i’ll let you get back to work. but remember to take a break soon.” 

you reminded him, since he had a tendency to overwork himself (when he wasn’t procrastinating) and he nodded, letting out a small sigh as you closed the door behind you. he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to break it to you that the plushie was a bit freaky, but that was a problem he could deal with later. perhaps he’ll surprise you with a new car and then — while you’re overwhelmed with joy — he’ll ask you to take it on a test-drive to the incinerator and throw the plushie inside.

KEIJI AKAASHI 

♡ the most supportive boyfriend <3

♡ even if the plushie is literally terrifying, he will try to fix it with marker or just sew/knit a new one 

♡ and if y’all have a kid/baby he will show it to them and be like “look! it’s uncle kou..”

♡ and while the baby is all happy and content, he’ll take a video and send it to bokuto, who replies with a video of him making funny faces, for akaashi to show the baby

♡ either way, akaashi will be pleased…

♡ …until his kid starts carrying miniature bokuto everywhere 

♡ and whenever you try to take it off them to wash it, they immediately start wailing 

♡ it was endearing at first; how they were cuddling with the plushie almost all the time, and how akaashi had a bunch of pictures of mini-bokuto in the most random places bc your kid refused to leave it at home (including the aquarium, the mall, the cinema and the supermarket, sitting on the shelf amongst the towering diet coke bottles)

♡ but it got to the point where you were both afraid that they’d never grow out of it.. 

♡ but fortunately, once bokuto actually came to visit y’all — and your kid got to see uncle kou in the flesh — they kinda left their plushie in favour of the real deal

♡ even when bokuto had to go back home, your kid spent so much time playing with the toys he brought, they pretty much forgot about the plushie all together 

♡ benefits of tiny child brain

♡ but what you and akaashi failed to consider, was the fate of the grimy, tattered bokuto plushie once your kid had given up on it

♡ it was in too poor condition to give to charity, so that only left you with one option…

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

“i suppose this is goodbye.” you monologued, watery gaze fixated on the torn plushie in your hands. well, your hands that were protected by two layers of disposable plastic gloves, of course; there was no way in hell you’d touch that thing with your bare palms. not when it was covered with grime, dust, filth and memories. 

“don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart.” akaashi chuckled. though he found it endearing that you were almost as attached to the plushie as your baby was, he simply couldn’t bare another second so close to the object without some sort of nose plug; it reeked. 

as you stared dejectedly down on the plushie hovering over the endless trash void, akaashi considered swatting the plushie out of your hand and into the garbage to spare some time, but he didn’t dare to touch it without hand protection. “why are we still standing here?”  

you sighed, turning the plush to face him with it’s beady eyes, “look, it’s so cute. plus our baby adored it so much, maybe we should keep it for memories’ sake?”

“or maybe we shouldn’t.” akaashi reached up to squeeze his nose shut, which conveyed to the point he was trying to prove. 

“yeah.” you said nonchalantly as your grip on the object loosened, allowing it to fall from your hand and join the rest of the trash. though your stare was filled with sorrow, akaashi appeared as though he couldn’t care less, but he did try to force a frown for your sake. 

his gentle touch lingered on your back, opposed to holding your hand, “i’m glad our house is free of that stink.” he mused, planting a brief kiss on your cheek before walking inside, likely to feed the baby. 

needless to say, you both spent the rest of the night looking through his gallery of photos with the baby and their ex-best friend.

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ worst mistake of your life 

♡ he’s a menace 

♡ makes it his personal goal to put the poor ushi plushie through everything

♡ at first he did exclusively evil stuff; like putting it through the blender, the washing machine, the oven, encasing it in chocolate etc 

♡ like it is wasn’t even for stress-relief or anything- he just thought it was funny

♡ (he even opened up a secret tiktok account to showcase his shenanigans @ushiwakasmoothie )

♡ (and he’d send the tiktoks to ushijima like “yo dude, this guy on tt is DESTORYING your plushies” and ushiwaka is 99% certain it’s tendou making the videos but he still replies “Haha! ” )

♡ but eventually you convinced tendou to be nicer 

♡ (so now that he is a changed man he has to make a new account for his cute photos @ushiwakaismyson )

♡ and his feed is mainly comprised of the plushie doing nice things like drinking milkshakes, going on walks, doing yoga, enjoying a bubble bath — generally just the opposite of the hell he was put through earlier

♡ and the account probably becomes really popular too bc who doesn’t want a picture of mini-ushijima riding a toy tractor as their homescreen?

♡ ultimately, all good things must come to an end, though

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

trying to take a nice skyline photo with the plushie sat on the balcony railing of tendou’s penthouse wasn’t exactly a smart idea. but who’s to say any of your ideas ever were?

“more to the right.” you mused, staring at the scene through your phone camera, trying to capture a gorgeous shot of the horizon while also keeping the plushie as the focal point.

in tandem with your request, he adjusted it, but not without tossing his head back and letting out an exasperated groan, “my arm fucking hurts.”

yet all you could do was giggle, “i’m almost done.”

“really?” his eyes practically lit up with joy as he jolted to his feet and let go of the plushie in favour of running behind you, peering over your shoulder to peek at the photo you had yet to take.

“i said almost.” you grumbled, just about to snap a shot until a large gust of wind caused your hair to flew over your eyes. once it ceased, time seemed to slow down as you both watched the plushie lose balance on the thin railing, stumbling backwards on it’s uneasy feet until it was gone, over the edge. 

the look of concern you both shared after watching the object quickly disappear past the glass barrier quickly morphed into one of stifled delight, “what the fuck—” you cackled, tears brimming at your lashline. 

“there he goes!” tendou had to rest a hand upon your shoulder to stop himself from keeling over with laughter, “oh, god—”

this went on for a while until you were both able to successful stand up and repress your snickers enough to form whole sentences again, “should we maybe head down and grab it?” you inquired politely, only to be met with a roll of tendou’s eyes as he guided you back instead. 

“nah, it’s fine. he had a good run.”

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COMFORTING THEM

characters ♡ iwaizumi, akaashi, tendou, suna & oikawa

tws ♡ cursing, slight veteran disrespect pfft, hurt/comfort & they get progressively less angsty

HAJIME IWAIZUMI 

♡ he ‘s a man so he’d never cry in front of you or need any comfort from anyone besides himself or so he thought 

♡ as it turns out, he actually does need positivity in his life sometimes because unfortunately, he feels emotions like everyone else

♡ he refuses to allow himself to be woeful in front of others, for the longest time

♡ his walls will eventually crumble, but emphasis on eventually bc it took oikawa almost a lifetime of friendship to do it 

♡ you’ve seen him display every other emotion — including the soft, subtle joy he got when he was chosen by a puppy in the shelter — besides sadness

♡ and honestly he had it all planned out too; he wouldn’t let you see him cry until your wedding, then he will shed a single tear as you walk down the isle bc he doesn’t want people to have too many photos of him crying

♡ but even then, it would be happy tears, so in the long-run he genuinely didn’t think you’d ever have to see him downcast 

♡ he thinks you’ll perceive him as pathetic and needy if you ever need to provide him with support, even though he’d do the same for you without a single negative thought ever crossing his mind

♡ obviously, though, this is hajime iwaizumi and things rarely go as planned for him, so there is no way he was able to conceal his tears for thatlong

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

he sat on the bus with heavy shoulders, staring up at the roof. his bag was next to him yet it still felt like the world was crushing him with every movement he made. it continued to spin around him and the only freedom he was granted was when you skipped up to the back of the bus to join him.

it was basically empty, so you felt comfortable enough resting your head on his broad shoulder, which he would usually oppose but today it seemed to ground him; for a moment, his vision was clear and the ache in his chest lifted. 

until, the words he dreaded fell from your lips, “i’m sorry about your game. you played very well though so you shouldn’t be asha—”

knowing iwaizumi, you assumed he would be silent for the whole bus-ride — just like he usually is after a loss — so you had prepared a whole speech about how proud you were of him and how there is still room for growth; and to be honest, most of it was just fluff to fill the painful silence.

hence, you were surprised when you began to hear quiet sobs coming from above you, you even cut yourself off to ensure you were hearing it correctly; you were. but before you could raise your chin to check if it was actually him, he grabbed the back of your head and shoved you against his chest, pushing to the point you were blinded by his abs. 

“iwaizumi?” you gasped, and all you got in response was a choked cry, “(y/n).”

your name had never sounded so similar to plea when rolling off his tongue, you almost felt emotional yourself just by hearing it. however, you knew what he wanted just by the simple utterance of your name.

your arms slowly snaked around his torso and pulled him closer to yourself, and he did the same, but much rougher; for a second you thought you might suffocate in his shirt. as if the burning passion inside him hadn’t died down completely yet. 

the rest of the ride home he held you exactly like that. with your face buried in his chest so you could not see the tears streaming down his cheeks at an embarrassingly rapid rate, but you could still feel the occasional hiccup of his body, or hear the sobs that continuously fell from his lips.

you couldn’t offer many words of reassurance, but you didn’t have to. he just needed to hold you. being able to freely express himself in front of you was what he needed after a long day of stifling sniffles and biting his tongue. out of all the places you could go, you were still with him. he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or feel bad for you; in the end, he settled on crying more.

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ being in a long distance relationship was quite easy for him. after all, he could do what he was passionate about during the day, and come home every night to facetime you

♡ although virtual kisses weren’t as good as the real thing, tendou was just grateful he was getting any kisses at all

♡  he knew that long distance was the only way the relationship could work for y’all (for now) and he was just content that he got to see your beautiful face every night <3

♡ but some night are harder than others. occasionally, after a long, unusually stressful day at work, all he wants is to come back home, throw his arms around you and cuddle into your chest until he falls asleep; is that seriously too much to ask?

♡ but then he is reminded of the gut-wrenching fact you live over a thousand miles away 

♡ usually you are the one complaining tohim about wanting to close the distance, but here you both are on call at ungodly hours; you ranting about how much you hate, while he is spaced-out, searching for the cheapest and earliest flights to your country 

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

“and then they told me i don’t qualify for the vet discount because i’m not a ‘veteran’ when i literally saved a dying pigeon one time like— hello? satori? are you there?”

you cut yourself off mid-story as you caught a glimpse of your phone screen out of the corner of your eye. while your glare was previously fixated on the guiltless poster on your wall, it was drawn over to your boyfriend as you noticed his glazed expression and how unresponsive he was, despite how he usually utters a few ‘oh my god’s or ‘you’re kidding!’ when you are recollecting on events. 

his attention appeared to be focussed on his computer screen; though you couldn’t see it in the frame, you knew it was there because of the blue light reflection in his glasses. “yes, sweetie?” he eventually hummed in response, stretching out the ‘s’. 

“what’re you doing?”

with a sigh, he reached out and twisted his monitor so you could see the bright screen though the camera, “i’m looking for flight tickets so i can come see you.”

you couldn’t help but giggle, “why?”

“work has been getting so stressful lately. i just wanna drop everything and come see you.” he mused, adjusting his screen back and tiredly resting his chin against his palm, which you just knew you’d kiss if you were with him. 

he sounded dead serious, and a part of you believed that he was. “tendou,” you cooed, admiring your boyfriend’s defined features while he aimlessly scrolled, “you can’t do that. you know you’ll get fired if you leave so abruptly.”

“don’t care.”

you giggled, mostly because you knew that if you had the courage, you’d do the exact same. and a despite how a part of you really wanted to see him, your rational conscious knew it would be best to talk him out of it. “i want to see you too, love. and we’ll meet soon, i promise! just maybe not thatsoon.”

tendou sighed, his bored gaze shifting from his computer on to you, “i know. i guess, i’m just really impatient.”

 “don’t worry, i am too.” you laughed, playfully twirling a strand of your around your finger, “but i’ll visit you soon, no matter what. and until then, i’ll try to call you every single night. just like we’ve been doing for the last year.”

tendou nodded. for ages he’s felt like he’s been running in circles with you, but whenever you look at him with your lovestruck eyes, he remembers how much he loves being withyou, regardless. he’ll labour through weeks — months, years — of work if it means he can end his day by talking to you. 

“yeah, (y/n).” he smiled, leaning back in his chair and glancing at photo on his nightstand; you and him at graduation, and you looked as stunning as ever. once his adoring gaze was torn from the image, he tossed his head back and groaned, “i swear, the next time i see you, an officiant better be there too.”

KEIJI AKAASHI 

♡ akaashi doesn’t feel insecure often

♡ but when he does, it’s almost impossible to cheer him up; it will be as if there is a dull, grey cloud lingering over his head for the next week or so, until he eventually snaps out of it

♡ emphasis on almost, by the way, because somehow you consistently manage to make him feel better

♡ usually when he’s embarrassed or sad, it’s over something extremely minute, to the point where you have trouble keeping a straight face (but you pull through)

♡ also, as much as he preaches about “communication” and “honesty”, early on in the relationship (at least for the first year), he won’t tell you when something is bothering him because he doesn’t want to burden you with his feelings/problems

♡ even though he’d listen to you for hours on end if you ever needed to talk about something 

♡ however, he’s definitely not as good at hiding his feelings (around you) so you figure out something is wrong pretty much straight away

♡ personally i hc that akaashi listens to heavy metal or rock music when he is down lmao 

♡ like he needs the adrenaline so he can imagine vivid scenarios of him being a badass or whatever

♡ (he’s a daydreamer and that’s canon bc i said so)

♡ so yeah, when you can hear the thumping of the bass and the sick guitar riffs from through his earphones, you automatically know that something is bothering him

♡ and like you are one of the only people that can try make him feel better without him becoming annoyed or being dismissive 

♡ how you approach the actual “comforting” part in whatever way you’d like bc regardless, he’s gonna appreciate it 

♡ it can be a bit awkward sometimes but if you put on a movie or smth straight afterwards, it’ll definitely clear the tense atmosphere 

♡ but after a while of dating, you’ll both be more comfortable with communicating and it’ll get to the point where he is ranting to you about how awful he feels one second and then teaching you a crochet trick in the next 

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

oh no, the dismal sound of slipknot excreting from akaashi’s earbuds was back. on the bus home from a practise game fukurodani had just won, no less. what was there to be sad about?

you sighed, trying your best to recall on the events that took place during the game that may have caused him to feel this way but nothing jumped to mind. especially since you were running errands and doing chores for the majority of the game, anyway. all you could remember was akaashi and bokuto kicking some aoba johsai ass. perhaps he just felt bad for the losing team?

however, you knew it wasn’t a smart idea to make assumptions, so you simply tapped his shoulder, a small smile gracing your lips as he pulled out one of his earbuds and turned to look at you expectantly. “hm? are you alright?”

“i’m great, keiji. just so proud of you!” you cupped his hands and squeezed them tightly, causing him to wince slightly then chuckle out a “thanks”. “how’re youfeeling?” 

the smile he wore was the most artificial you’ve ever seen on him, “i’m fine.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah.” he replied with a quirked brow in shaky tone, almost as if he was asking you a question right back. 

though you hated to pry, you felt as though you didn’t have any other option, “really? you seem bummed, even after you won.”

there was a tense silence; which was only heightened by how every other member of fukurodani was asleep, leaving the only noise in the air to be bokuto’s hellish snores and the faint sound of heavy metal still leaking from his earbuds. 

realising there was no use in hiding it anymore, he choked out the first sentence to his story, with a sigh, “do you remember when that oikawa dude from seijoh was chatting with bokuto?”

you hummed a response, and he continued, “well, i was sitting on the bench near his water bottle and when he asked me to bring it over to him, he called me ‘iwa’.”

his story was followed by another few moments of brimming silence. the only thing prompting him to break it was your absolutely clueless expression, “as in, short for ‘iwaizumi’.”

nothing.

“like, y’know, aoba johsai’s number four.” forcing the brief pre-match introductions back to mind, you could vaguely recall the two “stars” of the seijoh team: a confident setter and a rather irritable wing spiker. you figured the latter was iwaizumi since the captain didn’t resemble akaashi in the slightest. 

you were beginning to feel bad for not understanding what the issue was and why akaashi was so bummed over it, but from what you could tell, akaashi was simply called the wrong name. “so, whatexactly is the problem? was oikawa rude to you or?”

akaashi blinked a few times then proceeded to roll his eyes, casting his gaze out the bus window as if he was an angsty teen disturbed by their parent’s lack of sympathy, “it kinda implies that look like him. and i really don’t.”

you hummed in agreement, “yeah, you’re right. but is there anything wrong with looking like iwaizumi?” 

it was more of a rhetorical question that you asked to prove to akaashi that he looked just fine, so you definitely were not expecting him to turn to you with foggy eyes and mutter, “i don’t think you want my honest answer.”

a chocked cackle escaped your lips before you hastily slapped a hand over your mouth, to ensure you wouldn’t wake up any of the sleeping fukordani members, but akaashi simply made it worse laughing his breathy laugh which made everything ten times funnier for no reason. thus, it eventually got to the point where you were both hunched over each other, wheezing while attempting to make minimal noise for the sake of the others.

honestly, who would’ve guess that his first time saying “i love you” would be while stifling snickers in the backseat of a bus, after accidentally insulting a player from another team?

RINTARŌ SUNA

♡ it’d take a while before suna is comfortable expressing too much emotion around you 

♡ like for the first six months of the relationship, he doesn’t want to freak you out or scare you off by even implying that he is the slightest bit emotional, so he tends to keep his issues closed-off

♡ but once he’s established that he can trust you (probably after you say ‘i love you’ for the first time, he seems like a bit of a sap) and that you won’t leave him, no matter how overwhelming his feelings can become, he’ll make up for every time he’s refused to talk to you about his problems in less than a night

♡ like he might just unload on you all at once so be ready for that 

♡ he had mastered the art of keeping his feelings bottled up and before now, his main medium of releasing this stress was through the internet (o, the glory of online anonymity; no one will ever find his secret vent twitter acc and know it’s him)

♡ but now that he met you — someone who he trusts greatly, and is willing to listen to him — he is able to bring out a side of him, that only his 5 twitter followers have ever seen

♡ it’s not exactly a “bad” side, but it’s definitely more unfiltered 

♡ and he only acts like that in front of you, so when you go back out in public, he immediately reverts to his normal-self; it’s almost scary 

♡ like during practise, he’ll act as if he didn’t make you endure three consecutive hours of him ranting about how much he hates volley and his team, and continue playing as normal….

♡ (he doesn’t actually hate em btw, he probably just mad bc the third years refused to give him the chem test answers </3)

♡ however most of the time his “venting” isn’t as much venting as it is him cuddling you from behind and murmuring complaints about life into your shoulder

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

“i just feel like i am holding them back.” he groaned, trying to toss his head back and groan dramatically but his attempt with swiftly followed by your palm gently colliding with the back of his head as your other fingers with intertwined in his hair, creating cute designs with his soft locks while he rested between your thighs, facing the TV which simply played a background noise, at this point. 

you scoffed, continuing to run your brush through his tangled hair, growing slightly more aggressive with each comb, “holding them back? i think you’re the best player on the team. they wouldn’t be able to play without you.”

“of course you think that, we’re literally dating.”

you tutted, leaning forward and over his head until he could see your face dangling in front of his. it was creepy at first, but after you placed a kiss on his nose, he got over it. “well, i used to think aran or kita were the best on the team but now i’ve come to realise that it might be you.”

“what do you mean ‘might be’ ?!” he spat in response, and although he sounded hostile, the effect was dulled by the soft red tint dusting across his cheeks. he’d argue the pigment was caused by rage, but you knew better than to believe him.  

TŌRU OIKAWA

♡ dating oikawa is like 80% hurt/comfort, 10% cutesy couple things and 10% PDA so his fangirls catch the hint

♡ okok jk but also kinda not 

♡ like mutual motivation and comfort is such a big thing in a relationship with oikawa, you’re basically like each other’s really bad therapists 

♡ it’s cute tho

♡ if you are ranting to him over text, regardless of how late at night it is, he will drive to your house in his shitty lil honda and take you to your fav drive-thru or just drive around with you 

♡ and if he’s complaining to you then he let’s you play with his hair while he does so 

♡ (actually he prefers it if you play with his hair)

♡ usually it’s just him whining and y’all just joke about it but when he starts discussing volleyball, it is bound to get heated 

♡ like one second he’ll be saying “yeah midterms were so tricky but whatever it’s cool” and the next, all hell and broken loose, “I’D RATHER EAT MY OWN FOOT THAN GO TO SHIRATORIZAWA death to them all!!”

♡ obviously he was joking with that last part (referencing that wendy williams tt sound lol) but that first part was dead serious 

♡ ngl sometimes he just gets mad over little things though bc he loves seeing you get angry with him… like something about watching you yell about a non-existent problem just to make please him, makes him feel so….. loved??? 

♡ he just likes knowing that you support him so much, and that you can emphasise with him on such a dear level

♡ you are the only person that could say “you should’ve gone to shiratorizawa” to him, without getting beat up 

♡ if he were to tell anyone about all the horrible things people have said to him, or that go on in his head, it would be you

♡ bc not only does he trust you the most, you’d probably be the most likely to care and understand 

♡ (he trusts iwa but he already knows hhh)

♡ (maybe my head is too far in fanon but i think hanamatsu would send him “emo ⛓“ edits or instagram quotes after/if oikawa told them he cried about not going to nationals)

♥  ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥

“i don’t know why people make up rumours like that.” oikawa stated while chewing on his fries, watery eyes anxiously shifting between you and the take-away bag that rested on the centre console. “it’s so stupid.”

 “you’re totally right!” you rapidly nodded your head in agreement and said through a mouthful of fries, covering your mouth with your hand to at least maintain some manners, “who looks at a dude wearing two different kneepads and immediately thinks ‘oh shit that dude must have a fucked up knee?’. so weird.”

“so weird.” he sighed, placing a hand on his knee with a rather sulken expression, which fortunately didn’t last for very long as it was instantly pulled into a light smile as your hand slipped into his, intertwining your fingers while tracing patterns with his own fingers against his skin.

“i find whoever started that rumour, there gonna get one of these:” you started, and as oikawa turned his to observe your demonstration, he was almost striked in the face by your aggressive swinging, followed by giggles of “sorry!”

as he muttered “it’s okay” several times, he still laughed as you continued giggling and eventually found yourself hunched over from the painful bliss, with your face buried into his chest as he stroked your hair lightly. 

“i’m sure that’ll put an end to them, (y/n). thank you.” you could tell by his tone that he was joking, but by the way he punctuated his final sentence with a gentle kiss to your forehead, you could tell there was some sincerity in his gratitude. 

onion rings & other deadly sins

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x gn!reader

Genre: crack. absolute crack. but with a dusting of fluff.

Warnings: mention of insomnia? also burning tongue on extremely hot onion rings, but that was well-deserved.

WC:1.1k

Summary: It’s the middle of the night, and Kenma smells something…s u s p i c i o u s. Could it be you, making tantalizing late-night snacks that make his mouth water?

(A/N): GUESS WHO’S BACK (but not really alksdjfhl). uhh i genuinely haven’t written in ages so please forgive me if this is absolute trash, and i don’t know when i’ll be able to write next since ap tests are coming up, and uhh i’m generally a Very Stressed Human Being right now so this might be a bit rambly and whatever but it’s FINE, everything’s FINE… request by @alpha-beta​ my beloved <3

Kenma awoke in the dead of night, throat parched. Or, rather, in the wee hours of the morning—technically. He didn’t have the best sleeping schedule.

Groping blindly at his nightstand, he let out a frustrated sigh as he realized that his handy glass of water wasn’t there.

Dang. He’d have to go down to the kitchen. There was no possible way he was going to be able to fall asleep after this.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, producing a feline yawn. Belatedly, he shoved his feet into the fuzzy bunny slippers you had gotten him for his birthday last year—pink, with floppy ears and small, beady glass eyes—and stood.

Wait.

He squinted.

There was a faint glowing light coming from outside the bedroom door. He took cautious steps forwards, cracking the door open slightly. No reasonable person should be awake at this hour, much less have the lights on. What an inexcusable transgression. An unforgivable error. A total and complete lapse in judgment—

He interrupted his own train of thoughts with another wide yawn. Fumbling with the handrails, he half-slid, half-stumbled down the stairs, still in a sleepy stupor, even with the light shining from below—exceedingly bright to his eyes, which were still accustomed to the dark.

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, he could tell that the light was coming from the kitchen. What’s more, there was a persistent smell of something delicious, the scent of something being baked in the oven. Were those…onion rings?

Suddenly, Kenma snapped wide-awake, his attention sharply focused. Gone was the sleepy, ruffled Kenma: in his place, there stood a Kenma with a growling stomach and a newfound appetite for warm, crispy, tantalizing treats at 3am. He quickly rounded the corner, feet skidding on the smooth wood floor of the rental house the team was occupying, and startling you out of your cooking-induced reverie.

“Eek!” You let out a sharp squeal, not expecting anyone to turn up and intrude upon your midnight snack. “Kenma!”

He didn’t respond; instead, he trotted right up to the oven and peeked inside, clearly trying to discern when the goods would be ready for consumption.

“They’ll be ready in five more minutes,” you answered his unspoken query, sounding a bit sheepish. “Did I wake you up?”

He shook his head—verbalizing things was for his awake-brain, not his sleep-addled and hungry one. You took it as encouragement and felt a bit less guilty about your midnight shenanigans.

As he poured himself a drink of water, you kept a vigilant watch on the golden, crispy onion rings toasting in the oven, careful not to let them burn. They had to be crunchy, yes, but just the right amount, no more, no less; Kenma was a bit like Goldilocks in that regard.

Without you noticing, Kenma crept up behind you and tapped you on the shoulder, pointing towards the sink. After his glass of water, he seemed more awake, his eyes a liquid amber in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen that you feel like you could fall right into within the blink of an eye. The sink in question was cluttered with various baking utensils, onion peels, and a vat (pot, but you sometimes liked to imagine yourself a witch) that had been emptied of its batter.

“From scratch?” His eyes were curious, a little bit pleading.

You smiled. “From scratch.”

His smile grew wider, and when the oven dinged, you turned around, oven mitts in hand, to take them out. By the time you turned back around, Kenma was already waiting at the small kitchen island, a large plate ready.

“Eager, huh?” You laughed at the way his eyes trailed the onion rings.

He nodded, reaching out to pluck one from the tray before you’d even set it down, then hissing in pain as his fingers made contact with the sizzling snack. You were about to open your mouth to admonish him when he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth—after knowing how painfully hot it was—and started panting with his mouth open to try to get it to cool down.

“Kenma!” You deftly moved the tray away before he could snatch another one. “Be careful!”

He smiled, then shook his head, resolutely chewing and swallowing the one in his mouth, which should’ve been about as hot as coal in a fire. “It’s good,” he said, somewhat muffled.

You blushed—his compliments, no matter how small, never lost that effect on you. “Well, they’ll stay good even if you’re patientandwait before you burn your tongue off. Or do you not trust my crunchy techniques?”

He stuck out a tongue—red, but not blistered, you noted—at you, then reached for another one. You were a bit more prudent, waiting a couple of minutes for the rings to cool down. A spark of something bloomed in your chest as you watched this utter goofball, this clown of extreme proportions, absolutely gorge himself on onion rings. His tousled hair glowed beach-bronze in the bright lights, and—not for the first time—you found yourself smiling at how unabashedly himself he acted around the people he was comfortable with.

“Hmm?” He pushed the tray towards you, brows slanted into a question, and you realized that you’d spaced out, probably staring at him all the while. You murmured a small “thanks” as you palmed an onion ring from the tray, now comfortably warm temperature instead of scalding-hot, and absentmindedly bit into it. The crispness of the batter, followed by the sweet, fragrant insides, was exactly what you were craving. They probably would’ve been better fried, but Kenma’s coach would probably have your head.

“You should make these more often.” You heard a small, contented sigh from Kenma as he licked crumbs from his fingers.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I already make them like, once a week. Any more and our apartment’s going to start smelling like a cheap diner.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” He smiled, eyes sparkling with the promise of a future spar, one that you knew you were going to lose.

“Only if you make them with me,” you countered, the corner of your lip tugging upwards in a challenge.

“Fine.” He was smirking still, the lovely little bastard.

“At 3am in the morning, Kenma.”

“Insomnia. A deadly sin. But I’ll do it,” he retorted, “if you will.”

You sighed in playful defeat. “You’re making a deal with the devil, Kenma, and I’ll hold you to it. Swear on this pinky for onion rings”—you held out your right hand—“and on this one for other deadly sins.” You held out your left hand, winking.

Kenma twined his pinkies—both of them—with yours. “Onion rings and other deadly sins,” he said solemnly, “forever and always.”

Taglist: i’m actually going to rework my taglist since i haven’t written in so long & some of the people who used to be on there have now changed blogs so please message me to join my taglist!

If bokuaka were to be in F. R. I. E. N. D. S

fanfictionwritingoddity:

hello everyone!! i am so so so sorry for the lack of posts for like,,, months-

my summer has been insanely busy, and i start classes next week.
however, id really like to get back into writing!

i value all of your opinions, and thus, id like to hear what kind of writing you want from me! im planning on completely rebranding and redoing my account, complete with rewriting fandoms and stuff, so please please please come on into my ask box and let me know!

tell me which fandoms on my list youd like to see more of, and what kind of writing!! all of my rules still apply for now, i just want to know what my audience wants :)

i missed you all dearly <3

reblogging with tags for exposure :D