#kiyoomi sakusa x reader

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“precisely”. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

omi likes thoughtful gestures. 

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

and as it turned out, he was right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that, you found interesting. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

omi doesn’t like fancy words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

omi likes very real wishes. 

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

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

his good luck charm, huh?

you kinda liked the sound of that. 

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

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

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

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

his point he knew was no longer standing. 

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

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

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

what if you didn’t feel the same?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

atsumu miya smirked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his heart dropped when you scoffed. 

“i don’t need your pity” 

that’s when it hit him:

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

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

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

and there was the honesty you looked for. 

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

to lay back in the arms of someone

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

you give in to the charms of someone

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

happy 23rd, kiyoomi

“i think i might love you back”

omi likes feeling loved. 

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

it was everything. 

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

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

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

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

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

“check it for me, please”

omi doesn’t like flowers.

you nodded wordlessly before checking a card. 

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

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

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

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

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

i wore glowes making it! i swear!

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

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

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

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

omi likes personalized stuff. 

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

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

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

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

and you decide to change that. 

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

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

dear kiyoomi,

_______

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

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

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

“zip it and keep reading, birthday boy”

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

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

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

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

it was a bouquet of origami flowers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i suppose i did”

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

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

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

with a little more than an origami flower. 

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

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

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

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

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

so he wasn’t your soulmate after all. 

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

and since the moment he interrupted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sure you do, omi-kun!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“oh, it’s and—”

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

and so it stayed a mistery. 

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

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

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

a set of band aids. 

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

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

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

“then why do you cover it?”

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

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

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

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

you giggled. 

“like what?” 

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

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

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

although now you wish you did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

never an eternity. 

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

as if he knew. 

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

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

“why the hell would i get swen?”

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

and that reminder was often needed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cause after all, you were soulmates. 

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

right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yes, but—”

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

“yeah, that too—”

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

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

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

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

“fiance” you corrected. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wasn’t your soulmate?

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

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

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

everything was wrong. 

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

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

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

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

“nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

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

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

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

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

right. 

you called yourself stupid as you recalled that now. 

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

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

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

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

if only you knew then… if only. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he was at the hospital. 

car accident. 

drunk driver. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he had to be your soulmate. 

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

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

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

they would never understand “your loss”.

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

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

your eyes widened. 

1 new message from:

omi <3

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

it was a voice message. 

it took a while before you pressed it open. 

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

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

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

for eternity, and one day more” 

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

a scream left your throat as you realized, 

he was your soulmate, after all, 

but you lost him forever. 

*

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

why the fuck. would they leave it. open?

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

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

maybe it ran in the family. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re my eternity. and my more,too”

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. 

Some February afternoons could just last forever.

haikyuu!! characters and you making a playlist reminding you of them

featuring: sakusa kiyoomi, miya atsumu, suna rintarō and kageyama tobio 

kiyoomi

• you left to make some tea, and left your phone in the room
• it’s not like he was swooping through it! it was connected to a speaker so you didn’t turn it off, so you can easily change music
• a song he really hates came on, so he decided to change it
• he picked up a phone and realized, he doesn’t even know what to play
• “what if I play something they won’t like” and all the dumb anxious thoughts started to flow through his mind
• so he decided to play something from YOUR playlists! he’ll find something he likes, and it’ll be obvious you like the song, since it’s on your playlist. genius plan, right?
• he started sliding the playlists until he found something that caught his attention
• the title being a lyric from the song “Loverman” by Rick Montgomery
• he entered it, thinking nothing in particular, but the caption below the title!
• it said “I just miss my boyfriend, okay?”
• wait… what? his brain didn’t process this correctly for a second
• it felt so illegal to look through the songs in there, they seemed so private
• he honestly felt the urge to put the phone down
• but then he saw the most cheesy song he could think of
• song being “18” by One Direction
• you didn’t even listen to that band from what he recalled, yet it was there and he was familiar with the lyrics of it
• he felt a weird drop in his heart, like a sudden wave of excitement, suddenly he couldn’t sit still
• this didn’t occur often and he didn’t know how to act.

You came back to the room holding two cups of tea, the first sight being your boyfriend sitting unnaturally still and straight.

“You okay over there?” you asked softly, putting the cups on the table in front of you and giving him a small side glance.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he ask, eyes set or something in a completely different direction than your face.

You sat next to him and noticed that even though the same song was playing, your phone was in a completely different place than the one you left it in.

“Don’t you hate this song, Omi? Why didn’t you change it?” you asked, reaching for the device. Good thing you didn’t saw his eyes widen when he realized, he didn’t change the playlist he was looking at.

You were silent for an awfully long moment, eyes glued to the screen, while he was dying just two meters away. Were you gonna be mad? Sad? Disappointed? It would really be easier if you said something, he thought.

But then he started thinking about that playlist again. So you miss him, huh? That was a weirdly pleasuring fact, he didn’t know why. He was proud of himself for no reason.

But then he thought, were you really in need of a playlist like that? Maybe he was too distant, maybe he wasn’t enough boyfriend-ish?

The song he was looking at suddenly started playing, but it wasn’t enough for him to look up.

“You know, I listen to it every time you go for a game somewhere far, and you’re gone for a couple of days”

“It’s not possible to miss someone that quick” he replied almost immediately, as if he didn’t think about it before speaking. “At least to miss me that quick”

“Well, when you’re in love, it is” you replied, the grin on your lips so wide it could be heard in your voice. His heart skipped a bit. “And I have loved you since we were eighteen” you poorly sang the lyrics of the song, laughing immediately after, causing him to also smile a tiny little bit.

You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, Mr Insecure” you said, standing up and giving him your hand. “I always wanted to dance with you to this song.”

atsumu

• you were sleeping before he came over, and you noted that you were to take a nap and that he could let himself in.
• chill music was playing inside your whole place
• it didn’t take long for him to find you draped over the sofa, a peaceful look on your face
• you’ve been really stuck on work recently, so he was happy that you finally got some rest
• however it wasn’t going to stop him
• he located your phone and planned to wake you up by suddenly playing some metal music instead of the chill lo-fi in the background
• it was gonna be “hilarious”
• so he proceeded to unlock the phone and was about to enter search bar when he noticed the name of the playlist that was currently playing
• “missing my dumbass” huh?
• he just looked through the songs endlessly, even though there weren’t that many
• huge smile subconsciously appeared on his face and suddenly he didn’t have the heart to wake you up
• However he did lift your head really slightly and put it in his lap instead of the pillow instead.
• So you were napping while he just stared at the songs in awe, somehow surprised by the fact that you could miss him

“City of Stars, huh? I remember when you made me sit through that movie” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “And when you tried to teach me the chords to that, too” he giggled “Guess it’s better when you play and I pretend to know how to sing”

He kept chuckling and smiling to himself about what he was finding, until he put the phone down and looked down at your asleep face.

“Look at you. You really love me!” he grinned, peacefully sure of what he was saying. Wow, you really did love him. Why was it so surprising? Why was he this shocked?

He always thought he had plenty faith in himself, but somehow when it came to you, he could never hear enough of your praise before he’d actually believe your confessions.

You woke up soon after to him playing with your hair, a mindless look on his face.

“I remember falling asleep somewhere else” you commented sarcastically, but he only smiled, his mind some place else. “What’s wrong, Tsumu?” you asked, concerned about his cheeky attitude being gone. You got half up and looked him in those absent eyes, but he only hugged you closer to him, resulting in your face being buried against his neck.

“I just missed you” he said, hardly overcoming his emotions. “A lot”

“Did you? That’s rare” you laughed, but noticed the song playing in the background. You distanced yourself from him enough to look him in the eyes with the deadpan, but low key amused look. “Or were you just looking through my phone like a crazy person?”

He rolled his eyes.

“It was a great plan, until ya decided to make me emotional!” his nicely covered accent was always showing more when he was trying to remain calm. It made you giggle.

“Aw, look at you, are you gonna cry?” you joked mockingly, causing him to look away in embarrassment. He lightly pushed you off his thighs onto the couch. “Hey!”

“Yer the worst” he said, walking to the kitchen to pour himself some water. “The WORST!”

“You’re just mad because I made you too flustered to make a flirty comeback!”

„Shut it!”

rintarō

• this boy, oh my god
• this boy has his own playlists for you
• and he keeps them like a caged secret never to be exposed
• seriously, he has a lock on his Spotify app
• he’s secretly a sucker for all the romantic things like those couple playlists, photos of holding hands, that stuff
• but he’d never, ever admit it, not even to you
• so one day, you were at his place, and the Miyas, Kita and Aran were there, too.
• His phone died, and it was connected to the speaker, as it always is, because
• “you all listen to shit, I’m gonna choose something”
• so when it died, he started aggressively poking your shoulder until you looked at him
• “babe. baby. honey. y/n!”
• “what, rin?” you finally reply, while in the middle of the conversation with Osamu
• “Can i get your phone? music’s dead” he asks politely, and you nod mindlessly, while still paying attention to what Osamu was saying.
• To be honest you didn’t even hear what you’re agreeing to, but soon he placed your phone in front of your face so you’d insert the password
• You unlocked it, and he happily went over to the music app, while connecting it to the speaker
• He was just gonna search for his playlist, but he forgot the phone isn’t his, and he needs to search it instead of just hitting “playlists”
• But it was the first thing he mechanically did, and the first title he saw, was, drumroll please…
• “it’s missing rin hours”
• it’s what hours now? he could NOT believe his eyes
• well well well, so he spent all this time hiding his Pinterest-like romantic dreams to himself, while you… had a playlist? to remind you of him?
• he wanted to look. but he remembered how much he would be embarrassed if you were to look at his, so he decided not to
• he just searched for his playlist and turned it on like nothing happened, but after handing you back the phone, he could not stop smiling
• good think you were talking

Minutes passed, and the whole group was just chatting, eating and laughing, while the music was in the background, but Suna just sat back and didn’t pay attention to the conversation. Suddenly, he saw a palm right before his face, waving for his attention.

“Quit zoning out, Rin!” he heard your voice and looked over at you, and the amused smile on your lips. “Come on, we’re playing cards and nobody shuffles them like you do”

He simply nodded and proudly went over to the table, took his chair and started shuffling the cards in a truly “casino-like” manner, a confident smile never leaving his lips.

“What is it Suna, are you hiding all the good cards for yourself so you can win again?” Aran asked, and he just scoffed.

“Oh yeah, I remember we weren’t supposed to let him shuffle again!” Osamu joined.

“Yer a cheater, Suna, gimme that” Atsumu placed his hand in front of Rintarō, to make him surrender the cards faster.

“Please, you shuffle like a four year old” he bit back, already started to give the cards to people. “Alright what’re we playing?”

Suna was weirdly confident that night. Not that he was ever insecure, he just… acted more like Atsumu rather than like himself. It was weird to watch, honestly, but you didn’t mind, since he seemed happy. It was like this until you left, and you didn’t say a word, but as soon as you got to the car, you couldn’t bare to stay silent anymore.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“What’s supposed to be up?” he said, not even glancing over at you, eyes fixed on what was behind the vehicle, hand over the back of your seat, another one on the steering wheel, trying to leave the parking lot.

“What’re you so happy about?”

“What, can’t I be happy? That’s a rude thing to hear from my own s/o”

”You know what I mean” you whined, rolling your eyes.

“Do I?” He asked, and you started to get irritated with his responses, but before you could say anything, he just added “Maybe it’s just annoying my s/o hours”

After that, he simply smiled and focused on the road in front of him, leaving you to your own embarrassment, silently glancing to catch you get redder every time he looked.

tobio

• this guy doesn’t have playlists on his own
• he just listens to what he wants to, he searches it
• so he’s really not in the subject when one day you’re in the shower when some weird music comes in
• he just laughs at what the hell are you listening to?
• and you say the playlist must’ve ended, and he can put on another one
• okay but… where?
• so you shout the instructions to just go to “your library”, pick one and just click shuffle
• he does as you told, but- woah, why do you have so many?
• he starts to go through them, but it’s really just pure chaos
• up until he finds a playlist, named “don’t tell tobio but I miss him”
• wow, the title makes it seem so private, he almost doesn’t want to ope-
• oops, he opened it
• and the songs there- it caught his heart from the very start
• don’t get me wrong, he thinks they’re cheesy
• but there’s something about them that makes his eyes feel hot all of the sudden
• and you miss him? really? all this time he tried to be as distant and reserved as he could, so you wouldn’t think he’s clingy
• and you-
• he needed to sit down for a second

You came out of the shower, still with a towel wrapping your wet hair, when you noticed that a song you don’t know was playing, and Tobio sat on the couch with an uneasy expression.

“It’s not that hard to find it, you know” you said, walking over to him, about to take your phone away, but he quickly put it behind his back and looked up at you with an slight, tiny little grin.

“Gimme that”

“Nope”

“Why?”

“You have to come and get it” he said, moving back against the couch. You were shocked to the very core about his sudden confidence, and well, cheesyness, but what could you do, you sat in his lap and tried to get the phone from behind his back.

In the process, he started to tickle you, making you laugh, throw your head back, resulting in your towel falling to the floor.

“Stop, oh my gosh, just give me the- the- the phone!” you managed to say in between giggles.

When he finally stopped, your head was resting on his chest while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

“Sorry. I just wanted you to have a fun memory to think of while you miss me” he said teasingly, causing you to look up with a “how dare you” look on your face.

“So you-“

“Rewrite the stars? Really?”

You hit him on the chest

“Shut up you idiot”

“Awh, don’t act like that. You’re gonna miss it when I’m gone” he said in an over dramatic manner, looking away, and you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

“Drama queen”

sugardaddykenma:

HAIKYUU AND HOW THEY REACT TO YOU ASKING FOR THEIR PRONOUNS

notes:this is just joke, all in good fun. respect and use peoples pronouns or me and my homies will break ur kneecaps

KARASUNO

daichi sawamura ➝ “uh he/him, is that right?”

koushi sugawara ➝ “he/they :)”

asahi azumane ➝ “uh,,,, uh anything goes”

yuu nishinoya ➝ “HE/HIM BUT ALSO DUMB/ASS”

ryuunosuke tanaka ➝ “uh the ones for bros”

tobio kageyama ➝ “what the fuck did you just call me”

shoyo hinata ➝ “he/him, what are yours??”

kei tsukishima ➝ “nor/mal”

tadashi yamaguchi ➝ “they/them please excuse my friend he says things to start fights”

ennoshita chikara  ➝ “he/him I guess”

kiyoko shimizu ➝ “she/they”

hitoka yachi ➝ “great question”

NEKOMA

tetsuro kuroo ➝ “built/different”

morisuke yaku ➝  “he/him, let me know if you’d rather I not occupy this space!”

kenma kozume ➝ “mountain/dew”

lev haiba ➝ “wait alisa taught me this um, the man ones, wait fuck no he/him right? Did I get it right?”

AOBA JOHSAI

tooru oikawa ➝  “whichever you’re attracted to”

hajime iwaizumi ➝ “I am a man”

issei matsukawa ➝ “haven’t decided today”

takahiro hanamaki  ➝ “he/him, but it’s up in the air”

akira kunimi ➝ “dude I don’t fucking know I’m depressed”

kyoutani kentarou ➝ [BARKING NOISES]

FUKURODANI

koutarou bokuto ➝ “akaashi told me to say he/him and I practiced it to memorize it”

keiji akaashi ➝ “he/they please”

akinori konoha  ➝ “were in a global crisis, just use less plastic and I don’t care what you call me”

SHIRATORIZAWA

wakatoshi ushijima ➝ “I’m 6’4”

satori tendou ➝ “yes.”

tsutomu goshiki  ➝ “why? am I not passing?”

shirabu kenjirou ➝  [intense staring and silence]

semi eita ➝ “i havent heard of that band.”

INARIZAKI

atsumu miya ➝ “is that something I have to ask my mom, like my birth time?”

osamu miya  ➝  “cash/credit”

rintarou suna  ➝ “please do not refer to me”

shinsuke kita ➝ “he/him, and please let me know if you need anything”

DATE TECH

takanobu aone ➝ “he/him, let me know if you need me to talk to anyone for you”

kenji futakuchi ➝ “is that a joke?”

kanji koganegawa  ➝  “is that like a verb?”

OTHER

yuuji terushima  ➝ “all/yours babyyy”

sakusa kiyoomi ➝ “no.”

heich0e:

Sakusa Kiyoomi is not vain.

He has regimens that he sticks to diligently to keep his life, mind, and body in peak working order. Of course this extends to the way that he cares for himself.

He buys expensive skincare that he applies twice a day (though swapping out certain products in the morning compared to those he uses in the evening before bed.) He follows a carefully balanced diet and exercise routine, one befitting of an olympic level athlete, that was devised for him by some of the best nutrition and fitness experts in the field. He uses only professional quality haircare products that he buys from the salon where he gets his hair trimmed every five weeks, that help keep his curls hydrated and easy to manage.

He is notvain. He’s just meticulous.

And he’s currently screaming in master bathroom of your shared apartment.

“Kiyoomi what is–” your frantic words die out as you skitter around the corner into the washroom, socks sliding on the polished floor as you go, and see your boyfriend with a towel wrapped around his waist while he stands in the bathroom mirror looking like he’s seen a ghost, “….happening?”

He turns to you, a neat smear of charcoal facemask over the bridge of his nose (to combat the oiliness of his t-zone), his eyes wide and frightened.

“I have a grey hair.”

Keep reading

➳ “could’ve been nicer to me today.”

warnings: kuroo’s is a lil suggestive but otherwise, none

characters (random): toru oikawa, wakatoshi ushijima, tobio kageyama, satori tendou, kiyoomi sakusa, tetsurō kuroo, kenma kozume

a/n: this is inspired by the old tiktok trend, i’m not sure if anyone’s done it before but the idea just randomly sprouted in my mind so here we are lol :)

if this gets enough likes, i’ll make a part 2 with more of the boys :) also,, tendou’s has a typo but just pretend it doesn’t lmao