Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi tended to avoid a number of things: germs, crowds, his teammates, and interviews. He preferred his life out of the limelight. When rumors spring up about his love life, keeping his fiancée a secret becomes a whole lot harder.
Summary: Y/N is a Princess, until one day she beings to catch feelings for Prince Oikawa whom she met..The thing is she is An Angel and he is the prince of the monsters.. Will their love be able to grow in a environment where Gods and Monsters don’t interact due to the hate and conflict they have with one another?
Enjoy!
Yes this story was inspired by Lana del Rey song " Gods and Monsters " 💀🤚
There is a land of Gods and monsters
I was an Angel
You may wonder where are the monsters?
They live next to us but we're separated by
A border. This border was a garden and it looks very deceiving It's filled with glistening flowers with rivers of gold, but in reality, it's filled with creatures. Creatures that can devour you in a minute once they see you. The angles guard their side of the border as well the monsters guide their side.
Everything seemed to be peaceful after a certain war happened which cause the monsters and angels to lose trust and go against each other. It's been 30 years since that war happened, but we still don't seem to get along.
But we all have gotten used to it. The rules were pretty simple never cross the Garden which separates us angles and monsters. If we were to try to cross we can get killed by either side.
I truly do wonder why we can't just get along and be nice to one another, but when I tell people that they think of me crazy. They must think I'm just a foolish princess with radical ideas.
As I sighed looking at the window Suga looks at me
" What's wrong princess ? " he asked in a worried tone
" Oh nothing, I was just lost in my thought. You know how it is I'm always wondering why can't we all just get along " I said to Suga as I looked out the window where I can see the border.
" Princess you and your ideas.. I too wish we could get along. Maybe one day.." Suga said as he looked at the Princess
" But who knows tho it's been 30 years, So maybe you can change the world Once you have the throne "
I looked at Him as he Grinned at me
" I like your thinking " I laughed
" ANYWAYS You have to get up and get ready to meet with the Prince of Nekoma. They will be here in 3 hours you must get ready and look presentable. "
" UGH SUGA ANOTHER PRINCE REALLY!? " I said as I looked at Suga with my angry face
" y/n your ABOUT TO BE 17! You know how your father is. You need to find yourself a suitable prince for you to get married to.." Suga said as he pushed me off the bed.
" Now I must get going, SO DONT BE A PAIN IN THE ASS! " As he walked out the door I flipped him off.
" dOnT bE a pAiN iN tHe aSs! " I rolled my eyes as I mimicked Suga.
I get up from the ground, as I walked to the bathroom to shower and change.
As I changed into a white Flowy dress with lace straps I being to wonder what will I do for the next 3 hours before the prince of Nekoma came.
Hmm, maybe I should go see if Kags wants to hang out before I have to see the prince.
I leave my room as I walked thru the halls And greet the servants.
" Good morning y/n! "
I heard a recognizable voice so I decided to turn around
" OH GOOD MORNING TO YOU DACHI!! " I say in excitement
Dachi is an assistant who works for my father, he helps him plan his meetings and other important stuff.
" Where are you off to this early in the morning," he says in a suspicious tone as he raised an eyebrow.
" I'm off to go see if Kags isn't too busy, so we can hang around before the prince comes, " I say as Dachi changed his face into a smile.
" Oh ok! Well don't stay out there for too long you need to be presentable for the prince " he said
" Ugh, your guys and the prince of Nekoma " I rolled my eyes.
" You haven't even met the Poor guy just give him a chance. " Dachi said in a worried tone.
" Fine, I'll give him a chance but I have to get going"
" Ok get going but don't be late "
" OK THEN SEE YA " I waved at Dachi and ran for the open palace door.
I take a deep breath of fresh air.
Oh, how I love the outside, the flowers, the cute animals and can't forget the beautiful rivers filled with gold.
As I walked off to go Find Kags I began to get distracted by the stores and the smell of street food.
Many people Greet me as I walked around the place.
As I walked even further then I bumped into a stranger.
" SHEEZ watch where you're going! " the voice said In an irritated voice.
" Well EXCUSE ME MAYBE YOU SHOULD WATCH WHERE YOURE GOING " I said in agitated voice as I get up from the ground
As I get up I see an unfamiliar face. He has brown silky hair with brown glistening eyes. He has such a pretty boy face it Tics me OFF.
" Here let me help you up " he said as he put his hand up.
" No no it's fine I got this " I said as I stood up straight
" Hmm you don't seem like your from here? "
" Uh how did you know " he said in a worried tone
" Cause no one wears a cloak " I said as I tried to keep my laughter in
" WELL FOR YOUR INFORMATION ITS A VERY FASHIONABLE LOOK " He said in a offensive voice.
" Yea yea whatever I have to get going " as I leave straight ahead the strange boy grabbed my wrist
" SHEEZ what's up with you "
" Uh I'm kinda lost " the brown hair boys says
" WHAT DO U MEAN YOUR LOST? " I looked at him dead in the eye
"Well-
" OK! where did you even come from? " as I questioned the boy I noticed he got nervous
" Ah from the fields near the river of gold," he said as he looked at the ground
" Hmm, that's pretty close to the border! " I said
" Ah yes yes THAT'S WHERE I want to go near the border," the boy said as he got excited.
" Well lucky for you I'm trying to get there "
" Perfect " he grinned
" Ok let's go before I change my mind "
" I'm coming ~," he said in a cheerful voice
As we walked I realized I never caught his name.
" HEY, PRETTY BOY WHAT'S UR NAME? " I shouted at him
" Me pretty boy ~ wow already catching feelings " he looked at me with a smirk
" Not even close " I rolled my eyes
" Well my name is Toru Oikawa," he said
" AH OK OIKAWA LETS GO I don't have enough time, I have to meet up with a random-ass prince " I said as I walked faster
" A prince? " Oikawa thought to himself as he walked behind you.
The doodles first started when he was 16. Little stars on his wrists when he woke up, a flower curling on his palm before class, an inky sketch of some mountains on his thigh. Rationally, he knew what they were, why they were there, but it didn’t stop the initial stab of disgust at seeing the ink on his body. He washed it off frequently and often right away. By the end of the week, the drawings became less frequent. The loss of them did not hurt, but a stab of anxiety followed when he woke inkless and alone like always. Kiyoomi had never written back. The idea of writing—what if the ink was toxic and made him sick, what if they were allergic to something and it somehow leaked---he took a breath, shaking the thoughts from his head.
He didn’t hate the idea of having a soulmate. It made life easier knowing that he didn’t need to waste his time looking for a partner. He preferred it when things were clear cut, easy to understand, and with a visible end in sight.
Not where people can see, he wrote on his thigh, just high enough that it wouldn’t show when he was playing. His handwriting was chicken scrawl and despite his attempts to make it neater, he never managed it.
He waited minuets, checking with such frequency that not even cleaning his room had taken his mind off it. Words didn’t always make it through. No one knew why or how the process worked. Scientists debated that the reason words didn’t appear were because communication as a human method, poets wrote about the mysteries of soulmate marks and fate, but Kiyoomi thought it was simpler than all of that. Soulmate marks lead you to your soulmate when you were ready. Relationships were messy and complicated and despite how alone he was at times, he didn’t want one right now.
A single word followed, written so neatly it could have been its own font.
Ok.
The eighty-eighth floor of MSBY’s headquarters was not a place that Kiyoomi ever dared enter. He was content in receiving his paycheck on the day he was meant to and waiting for contract negations to raise any issues. Atsumu had managed to sneak his way into the Management and Finance department the first week he’d joined the team. Apparently, the gossip among their teammates wasn’t enough to quell his nosy behavior. How he’d managed to convince him to join in on his lunch-time venture, Kiyoomi wasn’t too sure. All he knew was that he regretted his decision already.
Couches were scattered in the main room surrounding large flat-screen T.Vs that played the news in a constant cycle. A large-open kitchen faced the back wall where a couple of people hung around, holding steaming mugs. Two people sat at one of the couches, intensely focused on a video-game they were playing. All around the floor, leading up the offices down the hall, were flowers. Some hung from the ceiling, spilling over the pots with vines drifting downwards. Large bouquets in crystal vases littered the tables. Kiyoomi could feel his nose twitching.
“Come on,” Atsumu said, leading him down the hall where several offices were tucked against the floor to ceiling windows. They came to a stop in front of a corner office where a small shoe rack lined with slippers, some still in the plastic casing, rested outside the door. A pair of pale pink slippers were on the top shelf, bunny ears plastered obnoxiously at the front.
“Take off your shoes. Y/N-chan hates dust. I’m pretty sure she ripped out the carpet with her bare hands when she got here.”
“I’m surprised you’re actually doing it,” said Kiyoomi. Too often had he watched in disgust as the man went home wearing the same sweaty clothes he’d practiced in.
“Y/N almost had a heart attack the first time I came in here, kinda made me feel bad not to listen after that,” Atsumu admitted. Kiyoomi struggled to rearrange his features to hide his doubt at the words and failed.
“Yet, when I tell you to stop stealing my face masks and towels, you never listen,” he said, dryly.
“That’s different. She’s a girl. You’re Omi-Omi.”
“So, if I miraculously gain a vagin-” Kiyoomi started.
“Do ya ever shut up? I’m not arguin’ with ya in the middle of the hall,” Atsumu hissed, his accent coming out stronger in his annoyance. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. If anything, it was Atsumu who started every one of their arguments, but his own boredom didn’t help.
“No need to be so sensitive,” said Kiyoomi.
“Put the damn slippers on,” Atsumu said, shoving the unopened packet into his gut. Kiyoomi smirked beneath his mask, gingerly opening up the slippers.
They were in the office for a full ten minutes before anyone arrived. Atsumu took the time to make himself comfortable in the leather chair behind the desk, making the various figurines of the team fight. Prototypes for the upcoming season, thought Kiyoomi, glancing at the little chibi version of himself in curiosity. The door snaps open and a woman walked in harried and tapping on her phone. She wasn’t dressed in office clothes, rather in an oversized hoodie with the name of a foreign university splashed across the front and leggings. The pink slippers that sat outside were on her feet.
“I thought I banned you from here last week,” she said with a groan, tossing a bag down onto the couch. She nodded to him in greeting, but otherwise ignored his existence.
“I bought a friend as a peace offering,” Atsumu said, throwing a hand in his direction. Y/N’s gaze fell to him briefly, brow furrowing.
“I don’t accept,” she said, turning to glare at Atsumu. “Human trafficking is bad. You would have learned that if you actually made it to college.”
“Sorry for joining the team,” said Atsumu. He stood from her desk, letting her settle in. Kiyoomi watched the two interact, wondering how long they had known one another.
“Please, I can replace you any day,” she muttered.
“We all know you love me too much to do that.”
“When I finally jump from the roof, I want everyone to know it’s your fault.”
“Take me with you,” Kiyoomi muttered, shooting Atsumu a look of disgust. Her lips twitched and she offered him a smile. Kiyoomi averted his gaze immediately, not liking that her attention finally focused on him. There was something unnerving in her gaze.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Business as usual. Sakusa needs you this time, not me,” Atsumu said.
“I’m sure you had nothing to do with that,” she drawled.
“I was brought against my will,” Kiyoomi acknowledged. She picked up a pen and notepad from her desk, clicking it rapidly as she started to scribble.
“We can file a report,” she joked, “I’m sure the papers would love to hear how Miya Atsumu was involved in a scandal with his teammate.”
“Suddenly, I’m regretting all my life choices leading up to this moment,” Atsumu said.
“You didn’t before?” Kiyoomi asked. Y/N laughed and Kiyoomi hated how the sound filled the air, bouncing with a levity that he’d never experienced on his own. People like Atsumu--and it seemed like Y/N--had a way of taking up space and never letting it go. They were loud because they thrived on the attention and Kiyoomi who had been surrounded by people but, alone all his life flinched away from it.
He pushed the thoughts away, explaining quickly and concisely that Atsumu had brought him here to specify how he wanted the locker room set up before games. Kiyoomi anticipated resistance to his requests but was shown a brutal efficiency that he can’t help but admire. Y/N listened attentively, taking notes, and asking questions, before promising that they would implement a new cleaning schedule before their next practice. They leave as quickly as they arrived, but part of him expected more and is left empty with the thought that there was something incomplete about their meeting.
That night’s drawing was a little cat curled up in a box. It looked like any other stray that he might see in Tokyo, but there was something endearing about the way its eyes were closed in two tiny smiles. Kiyoomi traced it idly. It must have taken a long time, he thought. The urge to draw something back filled him, but he has neither the talent nor willpower to sit and draw on himself for any length of time. Unlike when he was younger, the drawings came less frequently and always at night.
He watched; brow furrowed in confusion as words appeared beneath the drawing. The rare sight had his heart hammering loudly in his chest.
