“Doughnut” is the more traditional spelling, although its shortened form, “donut,” is also acceptable.
A glazed doughnut has about 240 calories, of which 120 are from fat.
The longest line of donuts ever recorded stretched 1,841 feet 10 inches in Berlin on April 27, 2014.
The largest serving of donuts weighed a whopping 1,470 pounds in Kazakhstan on November 2, 2013.
The world’s most expensive donut is made of 24k edible gold, edible diamonds, and aged chocolate balsamic vinegar. The remaining ingredients are top secret. They sell for $100 a piece.
“Come on, (y/n)! Why are you so slow?” Oikawa whines, already standing at your shared apartment’s entryway. “Taylor Swift won’t wait for us. Move faster!”
It was your birthday a few days ago and Oikawa gifted you with VIP tickets to Taylor Swift’s concert because he knows how much of a big fan you are of her and her music. He’s lowkey a fan too. So here you are now, still at your place, an hour away from the expected starting time of the concert. At this point, you’re not sure whether Oikawa bought the tickets for you or for himself. He could be a bigger Swiftie than you are.
“Calm down, Swiftie. Taylor won’t care if you’re late.” You roll your eyes at him before putting on the shoes that completed your outfit. He stretches his hand out to you, asking you to hold his hand. You teasingly shake your head no and he pouts, leaving your apartment first.
You follow behind him laughing. After catching up to him, you wrap your arms around his torso and forced yourself between his armpits. “You smell good.”
“No. Stay away from me. You don’t want to hold me.” Oikawa looks away from you, dragging your body along with him to the elevator. You start sniffing his underarm and he laughs, giving in to your hold. He takes your hand and intertwines it with his. “Reject my hand again and you’ll never get to hold me ever.”
“You’ll be the one suffering if that happens,” you tell in a matter-of-fact tone and it’s his turn to roll his eyes. The elevator door opens at the parking lot and Oikawa suddenly runs, leaving you to stand there confused. “Is he that excited to see Taylor Swift?”
You walk painfully slow, wanting to make fun of him. But to your dismay, he doesn’t give a reaction to your unhurried manner. Entering the car, you notice how much more fidgety he has become. But you don’t pay much attention to it and register it as his excitement for the concert.
The car ride is unusually quiet. Oikawa isn’t singing along to the song, or even paying attention to the road. He’s staring at blank space and this almost leads you to an accident. “Tooru, red light!” He steps on the brake suddenly, almost throwing you off of your seat.
“Sorry, angel. I’m thinking about the concert already.” He fakes a chuckle and clasps your hand with his. You glare at him. “I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the back of your hand on his lips, giving it small gentle kisses multiple of times.
“Ew, your saliva,” you joke and he lets go of your hand almost immediately. You smile, forcing your hand in his.
It has always been like this. Your relationship has always been the one with playful banters and endless teasing. People would often mistake you as best friends because of that. If it weren’t for his strong desire to hold you every moment, no one would have known about your relationship. But nothing’s wrong with being best friends, too. The two of you actually prefer it that way.
Noticing how cold his hand is, you set the air conditioning of the car to lowest level. His head whips at you in concern. “Do you feel cold, angel?”
“No. But I think you are. Your hand is cold,” you point out and he becomes silent again. Not long after, you arrive at Tokyo Dome. The place is packed, but thanks to Oikawa’s professional athlete status, which is already equal to a celebrity’s, you avoid the crowd and enter the dome efficiently.
The concert starts exactly when you arrive and you hear Oikawa mumbling behind you about how you could have been actually late if you moved any slower. You stick your tongue at him before focusing back on the stage.
You’re singing along to the songs and screaming on top of your lungs, but your boyfriend is too quiet. Too quiet for someone who has been reminding you about the concert ever since your birthday. Too silent for someone who flew to Japan just to go to this concert. Right then, you finally connect the dots.
“Are you feeling sick? Do you want to go home?” You say close to his ear so he can hear you through the crowd. Cold hands but feeling hot? Restless but silent? Definitely ill.
“I’m alright,” he whispers back at you, smiling at your reassuringly. Nodding, you turn around to focus on the artist on the stage.
A familiar guitar play starts and you shout excitedly, facing your boyfriend. “It’s our favorite song!”
We were both young when I first saw you…
“I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I’m standing there,” you sing along passionately. Oikawa’s hand land on your hips and sways alongs with your hips.
“It’s a love story-”
“Baby just say yes!” Oikawa sings loudly and from his chest. You chuckle before singing again. The hands on your hips start to tremble but you’re too focused on the song you don’t notice. Oikawa’s throat is dry and it’s definitely not from singing.
While you sing along in excitement, Oikawa becomes more nervous as the song progresses. He shouldn’t mess this up. He has been planning these for months now. He practiced this way more than enough. One wrong move and his plan will surely fail.
We keep quiet cause we’re dead if they knew so close your eyes…
Oikawa looks at his left and sees his friends a few seats away from the two of you, giving him thumbs up and mouthing, ‘you can do it’and‘go for it’. He checks at you to see if you’ve noticed them, which you haven’t so you sigh in relief.
He stares at your enjoying figure, and gets a peek of your lovely smile and glimmering eyes. The way the lights hit you so perfectly makes his heart beat faster. That’s enough to reassure him that it’ll end well no matter how his plan goes.
I got tired of waiting. Wonderin’ if you were ever comin’ around. My faith in you was fading. When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said…
This is it. He has to do it now.
You on the other hand is still singing alone, unaware of your boyfriend’s wariness. “Romeo, save me, I’ve been feeling so alone. I keep waiting for you, but you never come…”
Out of nowhere, he’s in front of you. Oh you surely can see him, but you’re not sure if you’re seeing him correctly. The one and only Oikawa Tooru is kneeling on one knee before you, a velvet box in hand, but you don’t even notice that because your eyes are glued on the shiny diamond ring.
Is this in my head? I don’t know what to think. He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said…
Osamu was driving around Aichi for 2 hours and Atsumu was calling him for that long too
The two had to watch old videos of the team going to Suna’s house just to remember where he lived
Osamu thought of calling Kita but he couldn’t because he’d get scolded if the former captain finds out that you got too upset you went home and asked for a breakup
They found the address through an old mail packaging that your mom sent to Osamu
Atsumu had to go to his brother’s place for it
Mama Miya calls you “Daughter-In-Law”
Your mom saw Osamu’s car parking outside their house but she didn’t say a thing to your dad and just let you be when you snuck him in
Sakusa sighs heavily as he slings the bag over his shoulder. He glances at his watch and frowns. It’s 30 minutes after 10PM. He only has an hour and a half left to celebrate his birthday. If it wasn’t for the damn training that took over his whole day, he would have spent his day with you and your daughter.
Sakusa never even liked celebrating, but your daughter was so excited about his birthday. She rambled all night about how she would make it the happiest birthday of his life. She even planned a surprise for him, which he knows all about, because the child wasn’t particularly good at whispering and keeping secrets.
Sakusa knows about the cake your daughter iced herself. He knows about the dried peaches that she made for him. He knows about the card she wrote for him. But her plans are all ruined because of a training he could have skipped, but he didn’t want to. He regrets making that choice.
After a quick drive to your house, Sakusa checks the time before getting out of his car. A little over 11PM. It’s still his birthday. He silently wishes that you are still awake so at least he can spend the remaining time of his day with you. He enters the house and sees how dark the hallway is, the only light provided is the one from the kitchen.
“They must be asleep…” Sakusa frowns. He stalks to your room and finds your sleeping figure tucked under the bed. He drops his bag on the floor quietly before sitting on the foam. He pulls his mask down and plants a kiss on your forehead, mouthing a soft ‘I love you.’
The athlete changes into his pajamas and just when he’s about to join you in bed, the door opens.
“Papa?” A small voice speaks and the door opens wider. Sakusa smiles at sight. His little girl in a black Jackal pajama set, that was specially made for her given by the team. Her small hand rubs on her eye, the other clutching on her her fuzzy blanket.
Sakusa walks over to her and tries to pick her up, but she avoids his hold and gets out of the room. He follows after her small figure. “Hey, baby. Why are you still awake?”
She goes to the kitchen and pulls the fridge handle with all her might, the blanket pooling on her ankles. Sakusa watches her in confusion and amusement. The refrigerator door finally opens and she points at a box. She looks up to him with dog eyes. “Papa, help…”
“Oh, sorry,” Sakusa chuckles. He was so amused of her actions he forgot to help her. He takes the box from her and places it on the dining table. “What’s this?”
“Don’t open it yet!” Your daughter scolds. She runs out of the kitchen and ventures back to her room. Not long after, the small girl comes back quickly with a big box in her arms. She checks on the digital wall clock and sighs in relief.
“What’s that?” Sakusa asks her and she climbs on the dining chair, the box she was bringing now on the table.
“Happy birthday, papa!” She cheers, taking the lid off the first box. There’s a cake inside covered by pink icing and topped by sliced peaches, a lot of sprinkles too. “I love you!”
Sakusa hugs her tightly, lowering his body to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, baby. I love you too.”
“I waited for you to come home!” She proudly tells him, hugging him back. “I made you a gift! Open it! Open it!” He opens the gift as she says. It’s a scrapbook with a bracelet that he can tell she made herself from the mismatched beads. There’s also a bottle of alcohol that is designed with car and rainbow stickers. A
“I like it. Thank you.” He smiles at her, and she returns the favor, flashing her small pearly teeth at Sakusa. “Let’s go to sleep. It’s late.”
“No! No! It’s still your birthday. We have to celebrate it until that clock turns 1 and 2!” His daughter argues, pointing at the clock.
“We can celebrate it tomorrow.” He picks her up from the chair despite her whines, but she eventually gives in to her sleepiness. As the father and daughter reach your shared bedroom, she’s already fast asleep, too fast for someone who was jumping like a bunny a few seconds ago.
“Omi?” You sit up from the bed, hand slowly rubbing on your eye. Sakusa can not help but smile. You and your daughter act way too much similarly. No wonder why he loves her the way he loves you.
Sakusa lays your daughter in the middle of the bed before slowly pushing your should back down to the bed. “Go back sleep.”
“But your birthd-”
“Shh… no wonder why our daughter is so excited about my birthday. We can celebrate it tomorrow.” He pecks you on your lips and you nod, wrapping your arms around your child before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep.
After making sure that the two of you are asleep, Sakusa gets out of the room to put back the boxes on the table back to its proper places. He puts the cake box back into the fridge first, after snapping a photo of course. He would never forget to take a picture of his daughter’s masterpiece.
Out of curiosity, Sakusa picks up the scrapbook and flips through it. It’s just pictures of him when he was a child up to now. He takes a mental note to call his mother, because other than her who else would give you access to such embarrassing pictures? He stops on a page, seeing his baby picture with his parents, and a small note you wrote at the side.
Don’t forget to thank your parents for giving life to you. Because I surely am thankful to them for giving birth to you. ❤️
Sakusa lets out a snicker. “So cheesy.” He smiles at your note nonetheless. On the next page was him as a baby and your daughter months after her birth. The resemblance is uncanny. She surely is her daughter. He laughs at your written note at the side.
I carry her for nine months and go through so much pain to push her out, but she still ended up looking like you! That’s so unfair! But it’s okay as well. At least I get to see a little you everyday.
He stops on a page with a picture of only the two of you back in high school. Sakusa is sure that the picture was taken during his 18th birthday. In the photo, he was holding on to a cake you baked, while you were hugging him by the waist. He never understood what was so happy about birthdays until that day. He doesn’t forget to read the note.
Your first birthday that we spent together. Komori and I had a hard time planning it because you didn’t want to celebrate it, but we know you had a great time that day. And we did it for the first time that day
Sakusa chokes at his own saliva after reading the last sentence. He clears his throat and continues to skim through the book. At the very last page is a picture of the three of you together. It’s a simple picture but it’s Sakusa’s favorite. The three of you were in bed, your daughter’s arms wrapped around his neck, while you are seated between his legs. One of his hands was on your growing belly, and the other is on the back of your daughter’s back. The note on the side undoubtedly makes his heart swell in happiness and his lips curl into a big smile.
Thank you for being born in this world.
And below your handwriting is your daughter’s.
We love you so much.
Before the clock strikes 12, he opens his phone and posts a picture of you and your daughter in his Instagram, his first ever post in his account. He’s a private person, but everyone deserves to see the two of you— the best gift ever given to him.
You are a jigsaw puzzle, and everyone’s jigsaw puzzle is unique. As you’re going through life, you are slowly piecing it together, bit by bit, based on experiences and lessons that you’ve learned, until you get the best picture, but the thing is everyone has lost the box for their jigsaw. So none of us know what the image we’re trying to make is, we’re just confidently fucking guessing. Fundamentally, you’re kind of always figuring out what your big picture is.
You are a jigsaw puzzle, and everyone’s jigsaw puzzle is unique. As you’re going through life, you are slowly piecing it together, bit by bit, based on experiences and lessons that you’ve learned, until you get the best picture, but the thing is everyone has lost the box for their jigsaw. So none of us know what the image we’re trying to make is, we’re just confidently fucking guessing. Fundamentally, you’re kind of always figuring out what your big picture is.
The most common way to start a jigsaw is to start from the outside — the sides and the four corners.
Who are you? What are you doing? Where are you going? Which path are you taking next?
You move stuff around, the picture changes, and changes again, and again, and again. In your part, the main bit of your jigsaw puzzle has yet to be filled, yet to be figured out. When asking your surroundings what was it that completed their jigsaw, what made them whole, most of them would talk about love.
It was all to do with love.
Now.
Seeking help from your surroundings, family or friends, has proved many times never to be a good idea. Your family believed success in life was achieved when three conditions in life were met : a job, a partner, and kids. Your friends were talking about a successful life mentioning trips abroad, being a girl boss and most definitely not having kids.
Needless to say, neither suggestions fitted your jigsaw.
Then, ten years happened, Shinsuke happened, waltzed into your life and just like that, he became your big picture. A life with Kita Shinsuke was everything you were and everything you’ve always been — but maybe, just maybe, 7 years of kinda-mutual pining weighted in your judgement.
“Shin, talk to me.”
You loosened your arms around his shoulders a bit, his head still resting against your chest and his own arms circling your waist. Your fingers threaded through his silver hair
“I love you, so much, Y/N,” he sighed and you rested your hands at his nape. “But we’ve been there before…”
It was all too frustrating and unfair, but that’s part of trying to figure out what your big picture is. You won’t always like or approve of the outcome, but you can’t always have what you wish for, may it be hearing what would make you feel better, or have it your way in particular situations. Shinsuke was never one to beat around the bush, and usually you wouldn’t mind. But damn, it hurt realizing you couldn’t fight anymore. Fighting any longer for this love meant losing both yourselves in the process.
“I don’t want to lose you, Shin,” you sobbed, unable to hold back the tears from streaming down your cheeks.
“Y/N…” he pleaded, drifting away from your hold.
Because each individual is as deep and complex as you are, they too, have spent their life working on their own jigsaw puzzle. It took three years of marriage (and a good amount of denial) to understand you both had been working towards very different images. Only then did you realize you wanted different things.
But you refused to ask yourself, do I admit the last three years of my life have been a waste? And do I waste the rest of my life?
It was all to do with love. Because apparently, you were nothing without loving him or without Shinsuke loving you, it had become an obsession, you both knew that.
“Why did you marry me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Shinsuke’s arms fell down from your waist in a slow and gentle motion.
“Because I love ya,” he replied.
“You love me?” you echoed, sobbing again, “then why are you un-marrying me?”
“Because I love ya, and because I want us to be happy,” he paused, “and we’re not happy.”
He wasn’t wrong, but damn, it hurt to hear him say it out loud.
Your jigsaw is your own, it cannot be shared or built by someone else. Your jigsaw is who you are, who you aspire to be, and among other things, it displays what makes you happy. Like Shinsuke stated, neither of you had been happy in this relationship lately, not because you didn’t love each other anymore, you had drifted away from each other because you were not meant to be a constant in each other’s life nor an important piece to complete your jigsaw.
Shinsuke stood up and made his way to the genkan, walking past the credenza. You followed, a few steps behind, watching him tie up his shoes and picking up the bag of clothes he originally came for. You tried to ignore the tug at your heart as best as you could when Shinsuke turned back to face you, a gentle smile adorning his features, golden eyes boring into yours, reassuring you, we’ll be fine.
“I love you, Y/N.”
I always have.
“I love you too, Shin.”
I always will.
You opened the door for Shinsuke, letting him go without a word for each other, then closed behind him, the sight of his back burning in the back of your eyes, one last tear rolling down your still wet cheek.
The place felt strange all over again, but it was a different kind of strange, like you didn’t belong here, like it was time to leave. You opened the drawer where you had stuffed the divorce papers earlier during Shinsuke’s visit, and found a pen hidden somewhere too.
It wasn’t insanity, delusion or irresponsibility, it was love all along, for ten years. You and Shinsuke loved each other deeply, but mostly, you loved each other enough to know it was time to let go.
– FIN WOUHOUH this was,,,, an experience for me to say the least, bc i got to practice writing an only redacted fic, but dAMN was it a pain in my ass
– the analogy of the jigsaw comes from daniel sloss’ jigsaw stand-up comedy show when the title, unbreak my heart, is the name of the episode is grey’s anatomy that inspired this whole series
– thank you to anyone who’s been following this little heartbreaking story <33333
We can’t keep doing this, we don’t know what we’re doing, never have, never will.
How true was it?
Shinsuke never striked you to be impulsive, he was practical, making calculated decisions, methodical, and from the moment you told him you were actually dating someone, you knew he was more than capable of shutting down his feelings in the blink of an eye. Never to be felt again.
It stung at first, it hurt that Shinsuke could act like everything was alright, like neither of you had harbored feelings for each other, which was hypocritical of you because you had stuffed your own feelings down too, and it was even more stupid since the both of you decided not to talk about it ever.
We can’t keep doing this, we don’t know what we’re doing, never have, never will.
How true was it?
Shinsuke never striked you to be impulsive, he was practical, making calculated decisions, methodical, and from the moment you told him you were actually dating someone, you knew he was more than capable of shutting down his feelings in the blink of an eye. Never to be felt again.
It stung at first, it hurt that Shinsuke could act like everything was alright, like neither of you had harbored feelings for each other, which was hypocritical of you because you had stuffed your own feelings down too, and it was even more stupid since the both of you decided not to talk about it ever.
Or at least not to talk about it at appropriate times, and most definitely not to talk about it just the two of you. It was rather straight to the point, in front of over a hundred guests at your wedding, in which Shinsuke wasn’t even the groom or the best man.
“I love ya, Y/N,” the words echoed in the air, “I always have.”
Way to confess after so many years of avoiding the inevitable.
“I want ya with me,” Shinsuke said, fist clenching so tight at his sides his knuckles were turning white. “I know ya love me too.”
Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to invite your high school crush — with whom you’ve acted like you’d been in an established relationship for as long as you’ve known each other, to your wedding, but he was still your best friend and that was a bond you never wished to break.
Well, Shinsuke was still a friend you were in love with, and apparently so was he.
Which brought us back to the fact that Shinsuke wasn’t impulsive. And yet, as he was the only one standing in the middle of the other guests, maybe there was a possibility that Shinsuke was a bit selfish, maybe he wanted you for himself and himself only just as much as you had once desired him for yourself only too. You couldn’t help the single tear rolling down your left cheek and the soft gasp you let out.
You did love him, but you loved your fiancé too, or the difference was that you were in love with Shinsuke, and loving him was more like how we never have to remind ourselves to breathe rather than we have to always think about when we need to eat.
You don’t remember if you spared one last glance at the man you were supposed to marry before throwing the bouquet of carnations you’d been holding onto with a tight grip since the ceremony began.
Petals were stripped from their receptacle as they hit the ground hard before you stepped on it when walking to Shinsuke. You grabbed his hand, and without a word, you both escaped the venue, leaving behind the cacophony growing borderline apocalypse. You were focused only on the feeling of Shinsuke’s hand in yours, its tight grip, a grounding force in a moment of chaos. You had ignored the eyes shockingly tracking you as you ran down the aisle until disappearing a few seconds later. Guests and ex-fiancé be damned.
Nothing else mattered.
Only Shinsuke did.
As you reached his car, Shinsuke turned to face you, snaking a hand around your waist while the other cupped your cheek. It was a slow and tender gesture, but your mind was still running too fast to register it properly, the way his thumb caressed your cheek and his golden eyes bore holes into yours. You breathed in, admiring the view from the edge of his glowing irises.
“Y/N, I want ya to be my wife,” he breathed out, “L/N Y/N, will ya marry me? Now?”
“Now?” you huffed a laugh, leaning into his touch.
“Let’s get out of here, let’s go back to the farm and I can ask ma grandma to marry us,” he chuckled while panting.
You nodded, and Shinsuke removed his hand from your cheek, reaching for the key to his car in his suit’s pocket.
“Shin,” you cupped his face with both hands so he would focus back on you.
It worked, Shinsuke had a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and a look of fondness instantly illuminating his features.
For the first time in all these years of pining over each other, not-so-unrequited feelings and missed confessions, it wasn’t about daring to take a leap of faith anymore, kissing Shinsuke in this very moment never felt so right. Taking his hand, running away, kissing him, lips meeting lips in a sweet waltz, hands moving around one’s neck or waist, deepening the embrace and tasting more of the other.
“Y/N,” Shinsuke panted as he rested his forehead against yours, “I really, really want to get more of this, but first, be my wife,” he said and pecked your lips one last time.
“So demanding,” you chuckled and Shinsuke kissed that grin off your face before hurrying you inside his car.
There you found the crinkled groceries list, and because Shinsuke was delivering rice here and there — or once a month to Osamu, you found a pen carefully put in the glove compartment. With your new fiancé, soon-to-be husband, you needed to start somewhere, and what better way there was than writing your vows on the run? Don’t read, you said to Shinsuke when he tried to eye the paper over your shoulder.
“I need a dress,” you realized.
“But y’already have one,” Shinsuke replied matter-of-factly.
“A new one I mean,” you glanced down at the puffy skirt and shuffled in your seat, this corset was really squeezing you too hard you struggled to breathe.
Shinsuke seemed deep in thought when he said, “I think you left a dress at my house once, a white sundress.”
“That’ll be plenty enough,” you smiled at him, as long as you were out of your current dress, anything was enough. Though you had completely forgotten about said sundress.
It wasn’t long before you were back in Himeji and only a few more minutes before you had reached the Kitas household in the outskirts of the city. As on cue, Yumie had been waiting at the doorstep, hands resting behind her with a smile on her face like she’d known her grandson and you were coming. Shinsuke helped you get off the car and carry the hem of your dress so it wouldn’t catch the dust on the ground.
Truth be told, it felt a little bit awkward to be standing in front of Shinsuke’s grandmother after so long. Her stare, as gentle and soft as it was firsthand, had you shake in your heels. “Let’s get you out of this dear,” was the only thing she said. “Shin-chan, call the city hall while we’re getting ready,” she added.
He nodded and you followed Yumie inside the house to a guest bedroom. When walking in, you immediately noticed the white sundress hanging from the wardrobe door.
That dress.
The one you wore on a very hot summer day when you had offered to Shinsuke to bring him lunch in the fields, this was the lightest outfit you owned, but the next day you went back to Osaka without it and completely forgot about it.
“D’ya really wanna marry my Shinsuke-chan, Y/N?” Yumie asked while zipping the back of the dress.
“Yes, I do.”
You were taken aback by the question at first, but there was no need to overthink the answer, it just seemed obvious that you were willing to marry Shinsuke without a second thought.
“And d’ya know what yer doin’?”
You believed her follow-up question sounded stupid, and you brushed it off sigh the excuse that it was Shinsuke. Planning the rest of your life with him didn’t feel like an emergency at the time, it was simply Shinsuke, high school sweetheart, the love of your life, sweetest man walking on this damned planet Earth, a deity putting an end to chaos.
Maybe it was an illusion after all, a fat denial when in fact you absolutely had no idea what was in store for the two of you in the following years.
– *taps mic* hello everyone,,, in today’s episode of maria’s shitshow, this chapter was a pain in my ass (again)
– i started with a first version of it, didn’t like it, wrote on my laptop instead of my phone and now this chapter is done and 1.2k long lol
– next chapter will be the final chapter of this series, i wrote something like 300 words already, which might not be a lot to some but is a lot to me lol (i’m a slow writer )
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.
Synopsis:Akaashi has more patients than you do when it comes to combing your hair.
W.C:269
Warnings:None! POC!Reader with curly hair. I wrote this assuming reader is male but it’s gender neutral.
Akaashi watches from the doorway of the living room as a fight occurs between your hair, the comb in your hand and you. Akaashi snickers as you let out a low sound of frustration.
“You know if you’re gonna stand there and laugh at me you could at least offer to help me.”
“Fine, I’ll help you. I don’t know why you didn’t just ask from the beginning.”
“You were sleeping. You spent all night trying to edit that manuscript.”
You felt the couch dip slightly next to you as Akaashi took a seat. He takes the comb and lets you sit on the floor between his legs.
This is not the first time that Akaashi has helped you with your hair. It’s evident by how his hands move through your hair with practiced patience. Careful to work his way to your roots and not snag one of the combs teeth on a curl. Slowly working his fingers through the more knotted parts of your curls. Taking the time to massage your scalp before moving on to detangle with the comb.
There is something magical about being taken care of like this. Something to be said about the gentle way he works with your hair. How he takes his time to rub circles into your scalp. The tension drops from your shoulders and you melt into his touch. When he finishes combing your hair he gently runs a hand through it in an attempt to catch any stray knots. Not finding any he places a kiss on your forehead before leaning back on the couch with a soft yawn.
summary: while out with your friends, you end up in the restaurant as suna and his friends. one|two
an: sorry for being so late with this part. i kept changing things. i did this whole written part, didn’t like it and deleted it. there’s gonna be another part, maybe written, maybe not!! but anyways, enjoy this late part and give more suggestions!!
summary: you get a random 3am text from your ex boyfriend miya atsumu.
an: hay!! there will be another parts to suna’s, im just having a little trouble with that currently. so here’s texts from ex atsumu while y’all wait!!
summary: more texts from your maybe ex boyfriend suna rintaro. first part here.
an: posted this part sooner than i thought that i would. i actually had fun making both of the parts. if you want to see more stuff like this just lmk!
summary: your ex boyfriend texts you after running into each other out in public. part two.
an: hi! i know i’ve been really mia the past few months and im sorry for that. here’s a little something that i made just bcs i was bored?? might do some more!
A/n- Hey guys- so I’m currently pretty busy with assignments so this is more of a filler chapter while my brain cells are currently pre-occupied. Sorry about the delay but the actual story will progress next week hopefully-
Y/n Semi is a professional volleyball player and single mom to her daughter Nao. Thanks to her friend Hinata, she finds herself with no choice but to help out at her daughter’s school teaching volleyball. This is when she meets Sugawara and starts to fall in love all over again.
Hey! There next part of Serving Your Heart may come out a little later then expected :( I have an assignment due tomorrow that I still haven’t started- Sorry for anyone waiting but I promise I’ll get it posted as soon as possible! Thank you for understanding <3
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.
“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.
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.
kiyoomi sakusa - the “you have too much nightmares, let me try this method on you”
When you look at Sakusa, you wouldn’t guess any of his weaknesses… well except for one maybe
He always speaks so confidently, if he doesn’t feel secure, he just doesn’t speak
So even if you’ve been their manager for… several years, you still know as much about this man’s weaker sides as if you met him yesterday, or even less.
The surprise on your face when you binge watched a series at night, and you suddenly felt the scream definitely coming from outside your headphones was indescribable
Was the room next to yours… Sakusa’s?
you thought nothing of it, but night after night, you heard a lot more, you heard crying, ventilating, calling out random names, and finally you decided that not only is this interrupting your sleep, it’s not healthy for the wing spiker either
come on, the next day is game day, he has to be on his best abilities
nobody wants to deal with grumpy kiyoomi, nobody has the guts
so you remember a method your friend has told you about that their s/o uses on them
it took a lot of courage, but there you are, about to knock on his door…
Sakusa flinched hearing knocks on his door. That definitely wasn’t just a comeback from a dream. Someone’s knocking on his door. Was he being too loud? Did he wake someone up? He prays that it’s just someone wanting something, even if it’s around 2AM, and who on earth would want someone at 2AM.
Normally he would’ve been pissed off, but now he wished for this scenario to come true.
He put on a hoodie before opening the door, since it was cold outside the sheets, besides, who wants to see him in his underwear, right? Especially if it’s marvel themed-
The look on his face when he sees his crush on the other side of the door is priceless. He can practically feel his face going all red.
“Can I help you?” he clears his throat and says lazily, pretending to be annoyed by the fact you allegedly woke him up, even though the tears still flow down his cheeks.
“No, but I can help you” you say, just as embarrassed as he is, and it doesn’t help when he raises his eyebrows like that, so you quickly add “That is, if you like, please feel comfortable to tell me to piss off if I’m being too much, but I have a friend with a problem simmilar to yours and I just…”
“Okay, I’m listening” he interrupts, causing you to look up at him.
When you explain the idea to him, he’s more than pessimistic, he’s laughing in your face, mumbling something about how he thanks you for your concern, but…
You took the opportunity that you’re both sitting on his bed, and just lay on your back.
“Come on, just try”
“No!” he answers almost immediately, but, as he’s also a man of logic…
He really has to be on his best tomorrow, and you’re his only hope at the moment. He reluctantly lays down next to you, and your hand guides his face near your neck.
“Fine, but only so you stop with this idea already. It’s not gonna work.”
You’re both extremely out of your comfort zones, but you’re slowly adjusting. You feel him nuzzle closer, and your hair just instinctly lands in his hair, curling one little curl on your finger.
His showergel smells amazing, by the way. It puts you to sleep instantly, but you know you can’t be the one to pass out first. After a while of silence, you ask him if his trial run has expired already, but there’s no response. His breath evens out, and you’re too afraid to stir away far enough to check if his eyes are closed.
“Kiyoomi? Are you asleep?” you ask, but again, there’s no response.
Oh well.
The next morning he’s so embarrassed that the idiotic idea worked, he can’t even look you in the eyes at breakfast.
atsumu miya as “you’ve been so dejected lately i feel too bad to leave you alone at night”
He didn’t ask for this at all, but yet you ended up being his roommate.
A roommate who was recently going through an extemely tough time.
Seriously, even he feels bad seeing you all in tears all the time, mindless look and not paying attention to anything
Even though you weren’t each other’s favorite people in the world before, you ended up getting closer over the fact that he was the only one to see you at the worst moments
You hated that, but what can you do, there’s no safer place to cry in than your dorm
And even though he kinda made fun of it at first, the longer it kept going, the more concerned he’d get
It got to a point where he literally wouldn’t leave you alone
While still pretending not to like you, of course
Have you eaten? Have you drank something? Have you even left your bed today? How long did you sleep last night? Not at all? You idiot, start taking care of yourself.
You dumbass, you dummy, you moron, you absolute fricking mess
Some of your friends consider him your boyfriend, judging from the messages you get from him
“Dummy, there’s a granola bar in your bag, better eat it” “Hey idiot, I had to run to practice early today. Are you feeling less shitty than yesterday?”
He noticed that, as it is logical, your mood proggressively gets worse as you get tired
And that you actually learned how to cry without sobbing so you don’t wake him up, how thoughtful of you
Well your mistake, now you have an 80kg volleyball player over you.
“Atsu, what’re you doing?” you ask in a tired voice, covering your face with a pillow.
“You’re crying.” he states bluntly, staring at you like a four-year-old.
“Observant, are we?”
“Hey. Dumbass. You didn’t cry for so long already, what happened?” he whispers, sitting by your side, and you can’t mumble words, feeling so ashamed you want to disappear. You fall on your back and pretend not to notice the question.
He sighs audiably.
“Alright then, just know you brought this on yourself” he states, and before you can ask why, he’s already laying beside you.
“W-what’re you doing?” you scream-whisper, right into his blonde hair, and he shivers at the feeling.
“I’m comforting you, isn’t it obvious, you moron?” he hisses. “Although, I can see my mistake now” he states, and you think he’s gonna go back to his own bed, but no, he grabs you by the waist and rolls over, so now you lay on top of him, flustered as ever, thankful for the light being off, at least he doesn’t see your tomato-like face.
“But- Atsumu, please go to your own bed” you plea, but he shakes his head, eyes already closed.
“Nu-uh” he answers “Yours is more comfy, anyway” he jokes, making you chuckle through the tears.
He puts his hand on the back of your head and puts it on his chest.
“Goodnight, dipshit” he whispers, and you manage to fall alseep listening to the steady beat of his heart.
No tears, he’d feel them anyway.
kenma kozume as “the heater broke and i’m cold as hell, can you come here?”
this should not have happened
the guy looks miserable
but, you see, he’s doesn’t have the biggest amount of muscles in his body, his not as ripped as his highschool friends
body fat? also no, he’s a skinny, fairly tall boy who gets cold really easily
for real, he’s wearing a hoodie at all times, and in winter, he looks like a shell of himself
so you’re over at Kuroo’s house on a New Year’s party
the party ended like an hour ago, everyone is asleep
(Lev’s gonna be so dead when Yaku wakes up and finds the tall guy’s head on his stomach)
you’re almost sound asleep in Kuroo’s guest bedroom, so gracefully given to you by the host
the only other person in the room is Kenma, who originally slept in Kuroo’s room together with his best friend, but got annoyed by the weird questions him and Bokuto kept asking
so he asked you if he can sleep on the couch in the room
why wouldn’t you say yes?
earlier that night Kuroo burnt pizza in the oven, so you all opened almost every window in the house to get the smell to leave
and kinda forgot to close the ones in the bedrooms
but no worries, you have a radiator
…right?
why is the radiator set on the highest temperature and still stone cold?
well, doesn’t matter, you can just wrap yourself in the heavy sheets
Kenma, on the other hand, only has a small blanket
And since it’s a party, he’s wearing a shirt, not a hoodie
The boy’s freezing
“Hey, are you asleep?” you hear a very quiet whisper coming from the couch.
“Thought you’re here cause you couldn’t stand the chit-chat, Kenma?” you ask with a grin on your face.
“Yeah, right. Sorry.” he mumbles and you hear him shift in his spot, visibly annoyed by the circummstances. There’s a moment of silence, in which he can feel his face almost burn down from embarrassment.
Oh, my god, you sound like you’re annoyed with him here. Areyou? Come on, tell him you aren’t. He should just let you sleep.
But does he really want to spend the rest of his night feeling his feet hurt from cold? Fuck, Kuroo, you and your stupid pizza.
He gets up, tightly wrapped in his blanket, and checks the radiator.
“It’s definitely broke” he sighs, touching the cold surface, and turns back to the couch, falling on it face down, letting out a groan.
You giggle at his action, and he opens his eyes immediately, hearing the sound of your voice.
“Kenma… I offered you the bed once already, it’s warmer” you start, but he raises his hand and shakes it in a disagreeing gesture.
“No no, please, don’t worry” he mumbles against the couch, trying to ignore the, ironically, burning sensation in his legs. Is this a bedroom or is this Antarctica?
“Oh, come on” you say, opening the sheets. “We don’t want you to freeze, do we now?”
Oh my god, what did you do. There’s so much thoughts racing through his mind right now. Should he do it? It sounds so nice… But should he really?
Fuck it, he thinks, you’re offering, he can’t turn down an offer from you.
He lazily walks over to the bad and lays down next to you, at a reasonable distance, only to hear you laugh again. He spares you an annoyed glance, and you shake your head slightly, rolling over next to him, covering him with the sheets you have wrapped around yourself so tightly, and using his chest as a pillow.
Hold on, that’s not what he signed up for. Why are you… How…?
He hesitantly and gently puts his arm around you, relaxing his body, the scent of your shampoo making him slightly dizzy.
Please don’t notice how fast his heart is racing. This is fine. It doesn’t mean anything, he can promise.
rintaro suna as “hey dude, i hear cuddling helps you sleep, wanna try?”
the most chill person out there
literally you would never have guessed how nervous he was before asking you
it’s just another week, another game and another hotel you are all staying in
and fate is definitely on his side today, since his bedroom is literally next door to yours
he got to your door and left without doing anything about three times before he eventually decided to be a man and knock
has a master plan in his mind
he’s gonna show you a website with an article about how cuddling (allegedly) makes you sleep better
and he’s just gonna be so causal about it
he’s just gonna knock, put on an emotionless smirk and ask you, just like he always does
but here’s the think, he’s not so chill on the outside
“how should I call them? their name? a pet name? bro? no, too much”
but, he does end up knocking
“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” you turn your head to the door to see a figure of Suna in only his underwear and an oversize t-shirt with the logo of some metal band.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you ask, voice hoarse as you were already drifting off.
“I read this super cool thing, wanna see?” he seems not to mind your comment, as he walks over to your bed and practically throws himself beside you, not minding you laying there, shoving his phone in your hands.
“… help you fall asleep in just three minutes…” you’re mumbling under your breath as you read the headline. “Rin, this sounds so fake” you laugh, falling back on your pillows, as he sighs.
“I wanna try, and it’s either you or Kita, and he gives me serial killer vibes” he mutters, earning yet another serie of laughter from you.
But seeing the serious hint in his eyes, you lift your hands in surrendering gesture.
“Go on with it, Mr Romantic” you state, watching in amusement as he groans at the comment and burries his face in your pillow.
You’re sure this is him considering this mission a failed one and giving up, but then he looks up
“Well, are you coming?” he asks completely serious, and you have nothing left to do than hug him and settle your face in the crook of his neck, not minding as his breathing lifts your hair from time to time and tingles your skin.
Can someone feel your blush through their skin? You surely hope not.
tobio kageyama as the almighty “the hotel room has only one king size bed and we need to share”
He never would’ve thought his teammates would betray him like this
What the hell do they mean there’s only two people rooms available and they’re all in pairs already
Honestly, primary school all over again
ugh
His perfectly happy to be sleeping alone, when he finds out you’re his roommate
this is fine tobio, don’t freak out
well he’s composed about it
a little bit of a “tch” and “well I guess there’s nothing we can do about it”
internally he’s a little girl now, but you never would’ve guessed judging by the annoyed grimace on his face
because how does it matter if you’re sleeping in the same room, it’s not like he was planning to run around naked, right?
it all changes once you press the card to open the room, and when he so gentleman-like lets you enter first, you find out there’s only one, big, king sized bed for couples exclusively
the only thing missing are rose petals and candles prepared for newlyweds
you try so so hard not to burst out laughing
when he enters, he becomes as white as the walls around
he can’t process this, what the fu-
bet he’s spending hours at the reception desk explaining it’s a huge mistake
unfortunately, these were the only rooms left, sorry not sorry, you’re sleeping together
and that brings you to the situation you’re in currently
He’s almost over the edge of making a wall of pillows between you two. You can’t help but feel a tiny bit offended by it, but you know he’s probably just super hyper embarrassed.
“Yama, who don’t you trust, me, or yourself?” you ask with a proud grin painting your lips as you sit on your side, sheets tucked around your waist, back rested on the wall behind you.
He gives you an annoyed glance, before answering:
“It’s not that”
Once he says that, he proceeds to somehow nestle himself in, but he looks like one of those dolls that come with a bedroom furnishing, almost lifeless, resting on his back with hands straight down his body, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“Relax, will you?” you giggle “You have a game tomorrow, grumpy face”
He rolls his eyes.
You shake your head and turn off the light, mumbling a quiet goodnight, as you turn to your side and place a hand under your head, back facing Kageyama.
Well, this is gonna be a long night, or so you think, up until he falls asleep.
You can physically feel him move around, and you think that’s what’s keeping you awake.
It takes a while for you to realize the star valley ball player is getting unconsciously closer, up until you can feel his breath on your neck.
Ironically enough, it’s you who’s all stiff and nervous now, when suddenly you feel his arm go around your waist.
“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me” you mutter, but he shifts dangerously when you speak, so you have to give up side commentary.
You decided to tease him just a bit. He’s the one who’s gonna be flustered when he wakes up, you’re on a winning side by being awake.
You smile to yourself before shifting your body closer to his. He sighs contently, almost making you laugh.
Oh how you want him to wake up and see already.
tetsuro kuroo as “we fell asleep on the couch together and now my hand is in your hair and you’re breathing directly on my neck”
you’re over studying, or just helping him with something
the point is, you were working all day
at some point he suggests getting pizza
hell yeah, pizza
you order a little bit too much of it, but since you both are suckers for pizza, nobody can back up first
and as you know, people tend to get sleepy after they eat too much
he has a wide couch, so you can both lay beside each other without having to lay ON each other
and as you tend to get a little bit sleepy, you both shift to lay down instead of sitting, still focused on the work, though
you don’t know why, you don’t know how but it just happens that you fall asleep
you obviously don’t see what happens after that, but Kuroo notices you asleep when he asks you multiple questions and you repeatedly don’t answer, he got it like around question number 4
“Lazy much, huh, sleeping beauty?” he mutters to himself, but smiles unconsciously as he glances at your stoic face
and as if that subconsciously impacted his brain, soon enough he can’t find it in himself to keep his eyes open as well.
Kuroo wakes up to an annoying pain in his neck, causing him to hiss and automatically want to place his hand on the place that ached. Whoops, did he fall asleep on the couch again? Oh well, didn’t he have work to do?
He lifts his hand as he wanted to, but suddenly he feels something shift beneath it, and when he looks down to see you, with your head rested on his chest, breathing slowly, a peaceful smile on your face.
Your legs are tangled with his in some unexplicable manner, and as the man of logic he so obviously is, he can’t even begin to understand how that happened.
Especially why his hand feels so in place, holding you by the waist, closer to himself, and the other one lost somewhere in your hair.
You shift your head slightly up, and sigh contently, now breathing directly on the exposed part of his neck. He somehow manages to not shiver at the tingling sensation, getting more and more flustered by the second.
His heart rate inscreases drastically, making him realize he’s stressed like he’d never been before, as he tries to make up his mind about whether to wake you up, gently push you off and let you rest, or maybe stay in place.
He feels attracted to the last one, but knows it’d only be unfair to you.
But you could wake up if he moved you, and you had a long day, after all…
Maybe he’s gonna let you stay there. Not for long, only five… more… minutes…
keiji akashi as “you’re staying over at my place, you take the bed, i’ll sleep on the floor. no, really, i’m comfortable on the floor. GEEZ FINE we’ll both take the bed, ya happy now?
You wanna know what got you in this situation huh
well, you were over for dinner, but it started raining really heavily
like, really really heavily
and akaashi being the sweetheart that he is, can’t let you go home like that
it’s a long way to the train station, you’re gonna get sick, and what if there’s a traffic accident? he can’t have that
(he just wants to spend more time with you but shh about that)
doesn’t matter how hard you try to convince him you’re gonna be fine. you’re staying and that’s final
it’s cute, he’s cute when he’s worried
well that brings you to where you are currently, already after your shower, dressed in one of akaashi’s t-shirts, oh this feels so couple-ish
you wait for him to finish with his night time routine in his room, admiring all the posters and childhood pictures he has
he has the first ever selfie bokuto took with him framed
when he comes back, that’s when the problems start
“Alright, well, let’s get some sleep, you can take my bed, and I’ll take the floor
And that’s what brings us to the guilt rising in your stomach as you settle in the guy’s sheets, inhaling the heavy scent of his shampoo from the pillow under your head. It’s his house, his bed, and yet he’s sleeping on the floor like some random guest. You’re the random guest here, you can’t help but feel like you’re crashing at his place against his will, and you’re making him uncomfortable.
“ ‘Kaashi?” you whisper, making his eyes open wide to see the dark ceiling of his room. There’s silence for a moment, and then he shifts to turn on the light once more.
“Yeah?” he sighs, bringing one hand up to his face to rub his eyes, unable to open them properly because of the sudden flush of light.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on the bed?” you ask shyly, making him chuckle as he shakes his head.
“Yes, yes I’m sure. Goodnight” he states gently, turning on the light once again. This is gonna be a long night, he thinks.
You cannot catch your sleep. Damn it, damn your altruism and all that shit.
“Akaashi no, I can’t-“ you’re cut of by the sound of him laughing.
“Oh my god. Fine. If I move to the bed, will you sleep already?” he whines quietly, and seeing you nod in the dark, he gets up and picks up his pillow.
You get off the bed, wanting to swap places with him, but are held back by his hand.
“No, if you sleep on the floor, i won’t be able to close my eyes even for a second” he forbids gently, moving you back to where you were previously laying.
Oh boy, you both think, this is awkward, but the warmth of his body pressed next to yours makes it hard to be mad at him for stopping you from leaving.
well hi! It’s been a while since I wrote one of those, huh?
so obviously the volleyball player you’re gonna fall for today is sakusa kiyoomi
the word count: around 2K
summary: your boyfriend and you go for a winter walk with his dog, and he gets a bit nostalgic.
and let’s go!
The sun shines a little bit different every season of the year. The winter sun is a tad bit more harsh and refreshing that the slow, dripping summer mornings. And as you look at the white, glistening snow, and the cold sun rays shining directly at it, you just have the urge to go out and do something with yourself, don’t you?
Same struggles happened in Sakusa Kiyoomi’s head that very morning when he woke up to a cold apartament drowning in sun rays, causing him to put a hand over his eyes, to cover them from the merciless light.
“Did I forget to turn the heaters on again?” He whined, and cursed his need to open windows before going to sleep each night. Now it was almost impossible for him to get out of the sheets, considering the temperature in his room was way below zero.
He managed to get one arm outside the warm bed and reached for his phone, charging on the side table. A sight of you in his MSBY shirt, sat on a kitchen counter and showing something you just baked, with a proud grin on your face on his wallpaper greeted him, and the widget above your head told him that it was six in the morning.
So he woke up before his alarm? Impressive, given that it was a Saturday and no practice was planned. He had exactly thirty two minutes before his phone would tell him to “get his ass out of bed” and go for a run.
Sighing, he threw the phone away on the mattrace, and wrapping his blanket around him, he went over to the window.
It snowed last night.
Wait, it snowed last night?
Suddenly, he was a little kid inside, because oh gosh, it never snowed these days! It was all looking so nice, everything covered in a white layer, as if it wasn’t the outside of his apartment, but a picture taken from a children’s book.
After he almost jumped from excitement, the adult side of his has taken over. If it snowed, it meant the temperature went below zero. If it went below zero, the sidewalk would be so slippery that running would be almost impossible.
Well, screw it. He wasn’t going to let a tad little detail like that ruin his good mood. And so he went over to each radiator he had and turned it on, then going to bed again and scrolling through his social media until the temperature around was warm enough for him to leave the sheets. 
And so it took a couple of hours for him to finally get himself up and going, but it was still fairly early when you knocked on the door of his apartment, and heard some shuffling inside.
“Sit already, would you? Fine, okay, I know you’re excited, but-“ your boyfriend’s voice was cut off by a bark, and he was silent for a second, while on the other side of the door, you were barely holding in your laugh.
“Hey! Behave! No!” he raised his voice ever so slightly, but apparently it worked on the poor dog, because soon enough you saw him, leant against the doorframe with both his hands in his pockets, his pet sitting beside him, although almost jumping from excitement upon seeing someone else.
“Oh, didn’t expect you here today” he said nonchalantly, a smirk forming on his lips, as he knew well that he invited you here himself. You rolled your eyes, and passed him by, leading yourself to his bathroom. “Not even a hello?” he whined jokingly, as you shook your head.
“I was in a public bus, let me go wash my hands” you explained, and he nodded, mentally trying to convince himself that’s just something people do. You’re not doing it just for him.
He followed you to the bathroom and once again stood in the door, looking at you with a happy spark in his eyes.
You looked so in place while just casually standing anywhere in his apartament. Like you belonged there. And he was almost certain you indeed, did belong there. He wouldn’t have you any other place, rather than by his side.
“You should really get a license already” he said, quickly looking down at his nails, so you wouldn’t see him stare.
“Mhm” you agreed silently, wiping your hands “I know” you slowly approached him, firstly playing with the material of his shirt, and after a while, curling his hair on your finger. It required staying on your tippy toes, which he found endearing. “And you, sir, are due for a haircut”
“Am I?” he said, touching his curls himself, but not leaving you to check in the mirror. “Can you do it?”
You giggled.
That was kinda part of the plan, since he absolutely loved hearing you laugh. He wasn’t the most funny person on earth, yet he was motivated to become a full comedian just to hear that genuine chuckle you gave his finest jokes.
„I cant cut your hair, silly” you said, rubbing his temple with one finger as you were still playing with the pitch black curls. “You have to go to a salon”
He shivered theatrically, rolling his eyes at you and walking away towards the kitchen. “And here I thought you loved me” he huffed, making you smile in disbelief.
“You’re being a baby!”
“I’ll ask my sister to do it”
“Your sister lives kinda away, you’re aware of that, right?” you continued, following his steps to the bigger room, where he was sitting on the floor and tying his shoes.
“So? She loves me, she’ll do it”
“She has her own kid to take care of, she doesn’t need a twenty two year old one” you shoot back, remembering the last family reunion you attended with your boyfriend. It was a complete mess, but meeting his parents explained… a whole lot of things about his character.
He really did look like a little kid, reaching for another one of his sneakers, scarf already put half on around his neck, smiling softly, having to pause the process of tying his shoes every time his dog tried to lick his face in excitement. The poorly named Swiss Setter never left your boyfriend’s side whenever he was home, so used to his their very own slow lifestyle.
You knew damn well she was emotionally attached to her owner, and loved him dearly, as you were the one to babysit her whenever Kiyoomi had an out of town game, and the first couple of times she didn’t sleep at all, and neither did you. It required him staying overnight at your place together with the dog for her to understand it’s a safe place.
“Now now, calm down, Lady, at least let me tie my shoes!” he giggled childishly. The first time you ever saw him snuggled up on the couch with the dog, watching some crappy Netflix show, you couldn’t believe your eyes.
THE Kiyoomi Sakusa. On the couch. With a dog.
You soon found out that Lady, because that’s the crappy name the dog so proudly got by, had been one of your boyfriend’s only friends until the time he graduated. She wasn’t exactly a rescue dog, but his older brother brought her home from his former friend’s house, where she didn’t exactly had the best start in life.
Kiyoomi didn’t fall in love at first sight, he needed time to adjust to having a dog in the house, but Lady seemed very fond of him, and weirdly enough, only listened to his commands. (The trainer said it’s about his voice, as it is deep and raspy, when he says something loudly enough, she feels respect towards him).
He was soon in charge of training the dog to be a good pet for a household such as the Sakusas place, a huge, always so elegant and spotless house, where no one is around too often, but frankly, “family friends” came back every other night to drink rosé with his mother, or whisky with his father.
It was to no one’s surprise, that when Kiyoomi moved away and went to college, his porcelain doll of a mother and distant father couldn’t get a hold of the Swiss Setter, who’s manners weren’t so ladylike. The deal was simple, either kiyoomi takes her to his place, or she ends up in a shelter.
And as he loved dogs, and secretly had a heart of a four-year-old, he took her in with himself, and, frankly, let her rule over his at-home life all the time.
She was very well behaved when in public, knew what was on her owner’s mind by the look in his eyes and reacted on the snaps of his fingers, but inside the four walls of his apartment, she could walk all over him, which you found amusing.
Kiyoomi put her on her leash, and rose his eyebrow at you.
“Coming?” he asked, having the door opened for you already. You nodded and left, waiting for him to lock the door behind the three of you.
It was cold outside, but not too cold, and the air was refreshing, even in such a city as Osaka is. Kiyoomi mindlessly tied his pinky with yours, a bit of a hard thing to do in leather gloves, but he was all about the details.
After two years of your relationship, he was perfectly capable of holding your hand just fine, but sentimentally enough opted to hold your pinky instead, as if your romance was fresh once again.
You smiled at the feeling and squeezed his pinky back with yours, You glanced over at him staring at his feet, as you walked towards the park in comfortable silence.
“When do you have the next match, Omi?” you started a casual conversation, and he looked as if you took him out of a trans of sorts.
“Oh, uhm, next Friday” he answered upsentmindedly. You caught him sparing loving glances in Lady’s direction, an indescribable nostalgy painting his face in cold colors.
When you reached the entrance to the huge park, where dogs were allowed off leash, you bent over and made a snowball, the throwing it at his back. He turned around to face you and gave you a look of betrayal.
“You didn’t” he whispered.
“I think I did” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hands, waiting for his next move.
He bit back a smirk, trying to remain stoic as he kneeled down to release Lady off her leash, hiding it in the pocket of his black coat, then picking up snow in his hands and forming a round snowball, directing it right at you.
Lady kept running around the two of you, jumping in excitement, not fully understanding what you’re doing, but happy to be a part of it.
“Hey, ouch!” you laughed, theatrically covering the shoulder it reached. “You didn’t need to spike it!”
There weren’t many people at the park that day, considering the fact that it was first snow, and parents don’t usually bring kids, who want to build snowmen, to a park where dogs are allowed off leash.
“Oh, you wanna see a spike?” a little smile covered his lips, exposing his blushing cheeks, contrasting with the rest of his pale face, and dark curls.
“Try me, pretty boy”
“Aight” he put his hands up in an agreeing gesture “Just don’t whine about the bruises later”
“Same goes to you”
He huffed, getting back as he gathered snow in his hands and rolled it a bit before aiming at you, jumping in place as you tried to “become a harder target to hit”. He shook his head in disbelief.
God, I love that dork, he thought, purposely frowning and posing as if he was about to serve.
Lady kept jumping around him, noticing a round object in his hand.
“This is not for you, dummy” he laughed, but noticing her excitement, excitement that he didn’t get to see a lot recently, since she was visibly getting older, and more tired, a warm feeling flooded over his chest. He sighed. “Alright, you want it? You want it?” he kept teasing, making her jump around, before breaking the ball and rubbing the snow in her fur.
She layed down on her back, showing her tummy for pets, which he did obviously provide, tickling that one spot that made her move her leg uncontrollably.
He got up, and formed another snowball, showing it to her.
“Watch out, I’m throwing it!” he said to her, before aiming at some free space far from him, throwing the ball from behind his back, watching with a heartwarming smile as she ran after it.
He seemed to have forgotten about defeating you, watching as his dog kept digging for the “ball” that already disappeared in the snow, so you walked back up to him.
“You okay?” you asked softly, and he looked at you in surprise.
“Yeah, obviously” he responded, but something seemed off. You tangled your arms around his shoulder, smushing your cheek against it, and looking at Lady sniffing around the place the snowball landed. “You know, if it weren’t for her, I’d still be too anxious to pet dogs I like when I’m on walks” he started, his mind some place else.
“Well, many things wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her. We probably wouldn’t have met!” you smiled against the fabric of the thick coat, both of you remembering that sunny afternoon when you sat by the river in the park, reading some sort of upsetting news on your phone, frowning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, when suddenly, you flinched, seeing a snoot between your arms, and when you parted it, you saw a panting, big dog staring back at you. You heard a distressed “Oh my god, Lady! Come back here!” in the distance, and you lifted your eyes to see a tall like a tower twenty-year old, black curls swept away from his face with hairgel, but getting a bit in the way due to the wind, the guy wearing black t-shirt, with a golden logo, of what appeared to be a… fox? You then thought, only later discovering it’s actually a Jackal, and the letters B and J on the sides of it, and sporty shorts. Apparently, they were on a run.
“I’m so, so sorry, she never does that. Please don’t get too mad at her, she means no harm! Oh, my god, Lady, come back here!” he hissed, putting the dog back on a leash. “I’m sorry! Hey, I can buy you a coffee, if that’ll make up for her? I’m choosing the coffee shop though, there’s a little one nearby and there’re not too many people in it, the popular ones are a rip off anyway, wait— are you crying?” he panted out, staring directly at your face, with a deadpan look.
“It’s alright, I like dogs. But I like coffee, too”
You smiled upon remembering that afternoon, as the completely different sun shined on you two in that moment, not the exhausting, August-ish one, that makes you want to never leave the nearest pool, but a cool and refreshing February one. Two years passed, and the both of you weren’t just strangers in the park, you were one of these cheesy couples teenage girls look at and get upset because they think they’re never going to be like that with anyone. Although, the bonding dog stayed the same.
Speaking of Lady, she ran up to Kiyoomi, who was lost in his thoughts and memories, proudly showing off a stick she must’ve found under the snow at some point.
“Look what you got there!” he kneeled down, trying to get it away from her to throw it. “My good girl” he giggled.
