Synopsis: Telling the Timeskip!Hq characters to bark for you
•Barks immediately, zero shame, zero Hesitation. They are down bad for you and will get on their knees wearing puppy ears and bark. If you’d ask. They put effort into earning pussy.
a/n: English isn’t my first language, criticism is welcomed but please be nice. Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! Do not steal or copy my work.
n: tysm for more than 400 followers guys wtf!! love y’all
│ you’re shy, he’s persistent — something has to give
requested by Owl Anon 🦉
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Komori Motoya
motoya is convinced you hate him.
which is funny, because he has never liked someone this much in his entire life.
every time he tries to talk to you — literally every time — you vanish. like blink-and-you’re-gone vanish. he waves, you trip over your own feet. he smiles, you duck behind the nearest person like you’re evading a hitman. he walks toward you, and suddenly you remember you have somewhere else to be. immediately. urgently.
and all of it just makes him like you more.
he catches you in the hallway again today. you spot him from ten feet away and do that tiny startled inhale that he pretends not to hear. your eyes widen, your shoulders stiffen, and you give him that oh-no-he’s-walking-toward-me look before you start quietly edging away like a cartoon character.
“hey— wait— don’t hide!” he calls, practically skipping after you.
you freeze. absolutely freeze. like prey spotted by a very excited golden retriever.
motoya stops right in front of you, hands on his hips, cheeks a little pink from the mini chase. he’s smiling, but in a soft way, like he’s trying really hard not to scare you off again.
“you keep running away from me,” he says, voice gentle and a little breathless. “which is mean, by the way. i’m very sensitive.”
your brain absolutely short-circuits. you look everywhere except at him.
“i… i don’t run,” you mumble.
“you do,” he says immediately. “you ran yesterday when i said hi. and last week when i asked if you wanted help carrying your stuff. oh, and the time before that when I—”
“okay,” you whisper, covering your face with your hands.
he stops. the teasing drops from his voice.
“…hey. i wasn’t trying to embarrass you.” he leans down a little, trying to see your eyes. “i just… wanna know why.”
you don’t answer at first. the air feels thick, warm, too close. motoya waits patiently, hands tucked behind his back, rocking on his heels like he’s trying to keep himself calm.
finally, you admit in the quietest voice:
“because i like you.”
he blinks.
then brightens.
then looks like his soul leaves his body and returns all at once.
“you like me?” he repeats, voice pitching up in pure disbelief. “you’ve been running because you like me?”
you stare at the floor and nod.
motoya takes a step closer, careful and slow, like he’s approaching something fragile. “that’s… that’s why I was chasing you,” he says with a tiny laugh. “i like you too.”
you finally peek up at him, and he lights up like you handed him the moon.
“i thought i was being annoying,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “but i kept thinking— if i could just get you to stop running long enough, i could ask you out properly.”
your heart nearly falls out of your chest.
he exhales sharply, trying to shake off nerves, then looks at you with the kind of sincerity that makes your breath catch.
“so,” he says softly, “stay still for one more second and let me try again.”
you do. you really, truly do.
motoya smiles, cheeks pink, eyes soft as he asks:
“will you go out with me?”
this time, you don’t run.
Bokuto Koutarou
bokuto does not understand you.
and that’s wild, because bokuto understands people. he reads emotions like he reads plays on the court — instantly, instinctively, with all that big-hearted honesty he carries around like it’s his default setting.
but you?
oh, you are a puzzle he cannot solve.
every time he walks up to you — literally every time — your entire soul seems to leave your body. you squeak, you stammer, sometimes you just… vanish. one moment you’re there, the next you’re a blur retreating around a corner at record-breaking speed.
and at first he thought—
oh no. she hates me.
but then he really looked at you.
the way your ears go pink whenever he’s close.
the way your hands fidget like they’re trying to hide how hard they’re shaking.
the way your eyes always find him before anything else in the room.
and bokuto koutarou is many things.
but stupid is not one of them.
he puts all of this together one afternoon when he sees you bolt — actually bolt — the second he waves at you across the gym.
“HEY—!” he calls, half laughing, half heartbroken, jogging after you. “wait! don’t— oh she’s GONE.”
you are pressed against a vending machine in the hallway, hands over your face, trying to pretend you are part of the décor when he finds you.
he stops in front of you, hands on his knees, catching his breath like he sprinted a marathon.
“you run so fast,” he wheezes. “i mean— i’m impressed! but also— why???”
you turn your face away, mumbling something he can’t hear.
he leans sideways a little, trying to catch your gaze. “are you scared of me? did i do something? do i look intimidating today? is my hair too pointy? sometimes people say my hair is too—”
“no,” you blurt out.
he freezes.
you take a breath. then another. your voice is quiet when you finally say:
“i’m shy. because… i like you.”
bokuto’s soul leaves his body.
his hands fly to his face like he has to physically hold in the noise trying to claw its way out of him. a full-body sparkle practically bursts from him as he straightens up, eyes shining like he won the national championship.
“YOU— YOU LIKE ME???”
you immediately hide your face again.
he wants to scream but he lowers his voice for you, bouncing slightly in place because he can’t contain it.
“i’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks,” he says, softer now, bending down so he’s eye-level with your shoulder. “but every time I get close, you look like you’re about to pass out.”
you groan quietly.
he smiles — a big, soft, radiant bokuto smile — and gently taps your arm with one finger, the lightest touch in the world.
“hey,” he murmurs. “you don’t have to run from me. i like you too.”
you peek at him. a tiny, shy glance. that’s all it takes to completely melt him.
“actually,” he adds, scratching his cheek, suddenly bashful, “i like you a lot. like— a lot a lot. like ‘i get excited when i see you come into the room’ a lot.”
there’s a silence. warm. fluttery. full of everything neither of you know how to say yet.
then, gently:
“can i try again?”
his voice is so soft it almost breaks you.
“can i ask you out… but slower? so you don’t have to run?”
you nod.
bokuto’s grin could power the entire city.
“okay,” he whispers, cheeks pink and eyes bright. “then… will you go out with me?”
you don’t bolt. you don’t hide.
you just nod again, shy and small and trembling.
and bokuto koutarou —
handsome and loud and gentle and in love —
lets out a breath like he’s been waiting forever for this.
Sawamura Daichi
daichi notices you long before you ever realize it.
he notices the way you hover at the edge of a room when he’s there. the way your eyes flick toward him and then away like you’re afraid of being caught looking. the way you startle every time he says your name, like you weren’t expecting him to speak to you at all.
he notices the way your breath catches when he stands too close.
the way you fumble your words around him.
the way you retreat — not because you want distance, but because you don’t know what to do with closeness.
daichi has always been patient.
with teammates.
with students.
with anyone who needs a steady hand.
and he becomes even more patient with you.
but even so, the way you physically flee from him every time he approaches… yeah. it stings a little.
he doesn’t take it personally. not really. he just wants to understand.
so one afternoon, when he catches you trying to slip out of a room the moment he steps into it, he gently blocks the doorway — not trapping you, just stopping you long enough to breathe.
you freeze, tension coiling through your shoulders.
“hey,” he says softly. “can we talk for a moment?”
your voice is barely audible. “um… now?”
“only if you’re comfortable,” he says immediately, hands raised slightly in a calming gesture. “i just… noticed you’ve been avoiding me.”
your face goes hot. “i haven’t— i mean, i don’t—”
his expression softens in a way that makes your stomach flip.
“it’s alright,” he murmurs. “i’m not upset. i just want to know why.”
you stare down at your shoes, every word tangled in your throat.
finally, in a voice so small he almost misses it, you whisper, “because you make me nervous.”
there’s a beat of silence.
and then daichi lets out the quietest breath — not a sigh, but something relieved. something fond.
he tilts his head slightly. “nervous in a bad way?”
“no,” you say quickly, cheeks burning. “not bad. just… embarrassing.”
his brows knit gently. “you don’t ever have to be embarrassed around me.”
you swallow, fingers twisting together. “i like you. that’s the problem.”
daichi stills.
his eyes soften. his shoulders ease. a slow, warm smile pulls at the corner of his mouth — the one he never shows unless something hits him right in the heart.
“that’s not a problem,” he says quietly. “not for me.”
you risk a tiny look up at him.
he steps just a little closer — not overwhelming, not imposing, just steady and warm like he always is. “i thought maybe you didn’t want me around,” he admits. “but now I understand.”
your eyes widen. his voice lowers.
“you don’t have to run from me. i’m not going anywhere.”
you exhale shakily, the tension slipping out of your shoulders.
he smiles again — so gentle it almost hurts.
“can i ask you something?”
you nod.
his voice is soft, deep, careful:
“would you go out with me? i’ll take things at your pace. as slow as you want. i just… want to know you better. without you having to hide.”
you bite your lip, heart pounding, and nod again.
daichi’s smile grows — warm, proud, full of something protective and tender all at once.
“thank you,” he murmurs.
not for saying yes.
for trusting him enough not to run.
Iwaizumi Hajime
you don’t just avoid iwaizumi.
you evade him like he’s an active threat.
and the worst part?
he has no idea why.
he’s not loud like bokuto.
he’s not overbearing.
he keeps to himself, works out, goes home, repeats.
and yet the moment he walks into a room, you do that thing — that quick inhale, the startled look, the way your shoulders tense as if bracing for impact before you quietly slip away.
iwaizumi notices.
he notices everything.
at first, he tries pretending he doesn’t.
but after the fourth time you duck behind a doorway mid-conversation when he approaches, yeah… it starts weighing on him.
one afternoon, he catches you rounding a corner with the subtlety of a guilty cat. he’s not even doing anything — just standing at his locker, tying his shoes, minding his own business.
he looks up. you freeze.
he blinks at you, slow, tired, confused.
“…you running again?”
you immediately look down, fiddling with your sleeves. “no.”
he huffs. not annoyed — just… done. done wondering. done overthinking. done watching you disappear like mist every time he gets within six feet.
he straightens up, wipes his hands on his joggers, and walks over to you with calm, steady steps.
you tense.
he stops a safe distance away — close enough to talk, far enough not to corner you. “hey. look at me.”
you do. barely. your gaze flicks up, then away again like it burns.
and that’s when he understands.
you’re not avoiding him because you dislike him.
you’re avoiding him because he makes you shy.
ah.
that… makes his chest stupidly, embarrassingly warm.
he softens without meaning to. his voice lowers. “why do you keep running?”
your answer is almost silent. “you make me nervous.”
he raises a brow. “me? what did I do?”
you shake your head, cheeks warm. “it’s not you. it’s just… you.”
that hits him harder than it should.
iwaizumi rests a hand on his hip, exhaling slowly. “okay. then tell me this.”
you look up. he’s watching you closely — not intense, not harsh, just focused. serious. the way he looks when something matters.
“do you want me to stop talking to you?” he asks.
your eyes go wide. “no! that’s not— I just—” you swallow hard. “i like you, okay? i like you, and it’s embarrassing, and every time you look at me I forget how to function.”
iwaizumi’s expression doesn’t change dramatically.
but his ears go pink.
“…oh.”
you rub your face. “yeah. oh.”
and then — god help him — he laughs.
quiet, low, warm. the kind of laugh that slips out when tension dissolves all at once.
he steps closer. slow. giving you time to breathe.
“you don’t have to run from me,” he murmurs. “i like you too.”
you stop breathing.
he tilts his head slightly, studying your reaction with that same steady patience he uses with stubborn teammates. “i wasn’t gonna say anything until you stopped avoiding me, but… you’re making that pretty hard.”
your cheeks burn.
he clears his throat, more flustered than he lets on. “look. i’m not good at this stuff. i’m not charming like oikawa. i don’t chase people around. but I do know what I want.”
you stare at him.
“and what i want is to get to know you,” he says. “properly. without you sprinting away mid-sentence.”
you let out a tiny, nervous breath. “i can try.”
“good,” he says, and the tiny smile that flickers across his mouth nearly kills you. “because i wanted to ask you something.”
you blink. “what?”
he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed but determined. “go out with me.”
your heart slams against your ribs.
“i’ll go slow,” he adds softly. “your pace. no pressure. just… don’t run from me anymore.”
you nod. small, shy, trembling.
iwaizumi relaxes. his entire posture softens like he’s finally exhaled after holding his breath for weeks.
“okay,” he murmurs. “that’s all I needed to hear.”
Meian Shūgo
meian has dealt with every type of person imaginable.
he’s handled rookies so nervous they couldn’t hold a water bottle without shaking. veterans with egos too big for the locker room. reporters who talk too fast. fans who cry when asking for autographs. teammates who emotionally combust at least three times a week.
but none of them —
none —
have ever confused him quite like you.
the moment he turns a corner, you turn the other way.
the moment he waves, you suddenly need to check your phone.
the moment he says your name, you somehow forget how to stand still.
and meian shūgo is patient. painfully patient.
but even patience has its limits.
so one quiet afternoon, when he spots you doing the slow, suspicious backward-walk toward the exit the second you see him, he sighs. a long, low, tired sigh of a man who has reached his emotional end.
“sweetheart,” he calls, voice deep and warm. “don’t run.”
you freeze mid-step.
slowly, you turn toward him with the exact expression of someone caught shoplifting emotions they didn’t mean to display.
his arms fold over his chest — not intimidating, just steady, grounding. “come here for a second.”
your heartbeat goes wild. “i—um—I have to go—”
“no, you don’t,” he says gently. “come here.”
he says it like it’s obvious you’ll listen.
and unfortunately for your nerves… you do.
you take a few tiny steps toward him, eyes on the floor, shoulders tense like you’re expecting judgment.
instead, when you reach him, he lowers his arms and softens instantly.
“good,” he murmurs. “thank you.”
your stomach flips.
meian leans down slightly, his height casting a soft shadow over you. “now,” he says quietly, “you wanna tell me why you keep avoiding me?”
you choke on air.
“i’m not— avoiding— i just—”
he raises a brow. “you run away the second you see me. i’m a captain, not a wild animal.”
you cover your face.
he smiles — warm, amused, knowing. “hey. look at me.”
you shake your head.
“look at me,” he repeats, softer.
you do. barely.
he takes one slow step closer, voice low but kind. “is it because you don’t like me around? or is it something else?”
your breath catches.
“…something else,” you whisper.
meian’s eyes soften. “tell me.”
you swallow hard, cheeks burning. “i like you.”
silence. warm. heavy. gentle.
then a quiet exhale from him, like he saw the sun rise a little too close.
“that’s all?” he asks, voice dipping, warm amusement coating the edges. “you’re running because you like me?”
you nod, mortified.
he chuckles — low, deep, affectionate — and runs a hand through his hair in disbelief.
“sweetheart,” he says softly, “i’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks.”
you squeeze your eyes shut.
he steps closer — slow, deliberate, giving you every chance to back away. “open your eyes.”
you do. his gaze is warm, dark, focused entirely on you.
“i like you too,” he tells you, voice so gentle it almost undoes you. “you didn’t need to run.”
you stand there, small and shy and trembling.
meian lowers his voice further. “can i ask you something now that you’re not sprinting down a hallway?”
you nod once.
his smile is soft, unmistakably fond. “go out with me.”
your breath hitches.
“we’ll take it slow,” he adds. “your pace. i don’t mind waiting. but I’d prefer if you talked to me instead of hiding behind vending machines.”
your face burns.
he laughs again — a warm, quiet sound — and reaches out, brushing one knuckle gently against your hand, barely a touch.
“so?” he murmurs. “what do you say?”
you whisper a tiny, breathless “yes.”
and meian shūgo smiles like it’s the only answer he ever expected.
Ushijima Wakatoshi
ushijima does not understand why you keep fleeing from him.
he understands training schedules, crop rotations, protein intake, and volleyball trajectories down to the millimeter — but he does not understand why every time he approaches you, you react like your fight-or-flight response has been personally activated by his presence.
first time? coincidence.
second time? maybe you were busy.
the sixth time you rushed away mid-conversation with a startled gasp?
he begins to worry.
and because ushijima’s emotions are quiet but sincere, this worry sits heavily in his chest. he wonders if he did something wrong. if he spoke too bluntly. if he stood too close. if his voice is too deep. if he should… smile more. or less. or at all.
one day, after you dart around a corner so fast you nearly collide with a door, he stops walking entirely.
tendou, who witnessed the whole thing, pats his shoulder sympathetically.
“wow. brutal. she’s terrified of you.”
ushijima blinks. “…yes. i know.”
“aww,” tendou sighs dramatically. “you look like a kicked puppy.”
and ushijima does.
quietly. internally. solemnly.
he doesn’t approach you again for a few days. not because he wants distance — but because he thinks he’s scaring you, and the idea that you might be uncomfortable around him is… unpleasant. unfamiliar. heavy.
but then one afternoon, he rounds a corner and finds you alone, sitting on a bench, chewing your lip and fiddling anxiously with your sleeves.
you look up.
freeze.
oh no.
you do the inhale — the “ushijima is here” inhale — the one that usually precedes you running for your life.
but before you can stand, he speaks.
softly.
gently.
“please don’t run.”
you stop.
slowly.
hesitantly.
he sits on the opposite end of the bench, leaving plenty of space. his posture is straight, hands neatly folded, trying his very best not to overwhelm you.
he looks forward, not at you, giving you the safety of not being observed.
“did I do something wrong?” he asks in a low, even voice. “if I did, I want to understand.”
your heart drops.
“wrong?” you repeat, startled. “no! no, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
he finally looks at you — and it’s so soft it almost hurts.
“then why do you avoid me?”
you swallow hard. “because I get nervous.”
he tilts his head. “nervous in a bad way?”
“no,” you whisper.
“then why?”
your voice cracks with embarrassment. “because I like you.”
“Do you know what my love for you and this credit card have in common? It has no limits.”
Frustrated by your empty love life after being teased by girls your age who seemed to have fulfilling love lives, in dire need for a boyfriend to show off, who else to ask but Sakusa Kiyoomi who was dead whipped for you.
14.8k words, fake dating, friends to lovers, fluff, reader is kinda oblivious, Sakusa is cocky and hella flirty, slightly suggestive, not proofread
Rich boy! Sakusa Kiyoomi who can’t help himself but spoil the only girl he wants in his life, his cousin teases him when you just respond to his obvious courtship with “Thank you Omi! You’re the best guy ever!”
Rich boy! Sakusa Kiyoomi who can’t help but swipe his credit card when he sees a cute hair pin from MiuMiu you’d definitely love.
Rich boy! Sakusa Kiyoomi whose money was meaningless to you because you only cared about fine arts and was already spoiled enough by your parents.
Rich boy! Sakusa Kiyoomi who couldn’t care about his parents who said you weren’t the most suited trophy wife for the Sakusa family, but they knew they couldn’t stop him just like how they couldn’t stop his love for volleyball.
Rich boy! Sakusa Kiyoomi whom you begged to be your fake boyfriend after being teased endlessly by other families your father worked with but you didn’t even need to look at him with your cute puppy eyes, all you had to do was command him and he’d follow.
You barge into Sakusa’s room despite his maids telling you that ‘young master wouldn’t like that’ but you go ahead anyway because you’ve never seen your Omi mad at you. “Omi please be my boyfriend for Friday’s charity ball.” His door swung open revealing you in the black tweed dress with your white crew neck cardigan, the MiuMiu hairpin on the left side of your face which made him slightly egotistic.
His body slightly faced towards you, as he was tucked in his study table with legs crossed on the chair, you grabbed his hand and squeezed them slightly. “Omi! Please” Don’t look at him like that, you might give him heart embolisms for goodness’ sake!
“Sure.” He says in a non-chalant tone, his eyes sleazy with thoughts of how to make you his during the four days before the event. Your touch retracts from his hands causing a small frown to appear on his lips.
You jump up around his room while giggling, your hair bouncing in the process which makes him smile gently. “Omi, you’re the best!”
He spins his chair around to face you directly and quirks his brow at you with a smirk on his pink lips. “Oh yeah?”
“Of course!” You reply innocently not knowing the effect you had on him.
He stands up from his seat and walks towards you, his onyx eyes holding a deep gaze with unknown intentions, he holds your left arm with his large right hand that wraps around your perfectly. “Even better than Komori?” You nodded your head at his question which caused his smirk to grow better, he licks his bottom lip slightly when he looks at your lips that were shined by your favourite lip gloss.
“Am I your favourite then?” His hand moves away from your arm and brushes the hair off of your right shoulder.
He painstakingly slowly brings up his hands on your face to caress it softly and observes you directly in the eyes. “Who else would it be, Kiyo?” You laugh at his incredulous question. “Can we go shopping right now then?” You invite, but you both knew it was a command and not an invitation.
Kiyoomi’s eyes brightened, good you were slowly learning that you never have to ask him. “Sure thing, Y/n. Let me get changed first, m’kay?” He gives you the smile only you were allowed to see, not that he could help it when you were the only sweet thing in this boring life.
You sit at his bed, your hands on both sides of your thighs and tapped the bed with a heavy hand. “Lay down if you want.” He gives you permission, something he’d never do for anyone else.
“No, thank you Omi, my hair’s gonna get messed up if I do that.” You jump up from his bed and fiddled with the things neatly arranged on his table.
Sakusa paid no mind and trudged on to his walk-in closet, picked a simple white polo shirt and faded blue jeans that were slightly baggy, opened his watch drawer and picked the leather watch you’d given him for his birthday last year.
Kiyoomi was out in less than 10 minutes and watched you quietly as you were probably writing ‘good luck’ on his volleyball routine notebook. His notebook collected a repertoire of your silly doodles and small notes which earned teasing from Komori when he opened his notebook next to him.
He leans over your shoulder, his face fanning you, his breath tickling the exposed skin on your neck. “Ki-yoo-mi?” You utter his name with pauses between the syllables, you blink your eyes twice.
Got you. He thinks. He knows you only do that when you’re flustered and shy. “Are you okay, Y/n?” You gulp hard when he leans in closer to your face, his lips too close to yours.
You place your hands on his shoulders and push him away slowly, an awkward smile on your lips whilst you attempt to laugh the tension off. “Ha…ha Omi you took so long. Let’s go, you silly turtle.” You got up from his chair abruptly and ran off downstairs to put on your shoes.
He watches your disappearing silhouette with a shit-eating grin on his face, you were so cute in his eyes. So sweet, so honest, so kind-hearted. You couldn’t even lie if you wanted to, your avertful gaze and twiddling fingers was the tell-tale of your heart. He just wanted to keep someone like you by his side, no–it had to be you.
Sakusa follows you from behind in a more mannered pace, not wanting his mom to nag at him if he were to run inside the house. His parents sat in the living room, his father with a newspaper in his hand while his mother was sipping her tea that she grew herself. They were used to having you here, the slight “disarray” in your actions now familiar to them.
His mother did not disprove you nor did she like you, he just knew that her youngest son could have someone from a better family but yours was good enough too. You were well-educated, polite, and interested in arts like her so she wouldn’t necessarily mind having you as a daughter in law.
His father, on the other hand, liked you. He knew Sakusa Kiyoomi never made any wrong decisions in his life, his son was well-calculated like him, he knew how to run the cogs well without instructions and did not feel the need to interrupt Kiyoomi in his life. Your family was rising fast in the ranks of high-society despite having only started thirty-five years ago, your family took control of the tech market and held its strings since 1985. It was a sweet treat to have you as a daughter in law.
As parents of Sakusa Kiyoomi, they also wanted his happiness more than anything. He never asked for anything as a kid, so if their approval was wanted then so be it. They knew their son was damned love-struck to you.
The black Rolls Royce was waiting for him, the driver standing by the open back-seat door ready to close it for him when he enters. He steps foot in the car and faces you, the car food shuts beside him with a light slam.
You look at him with that smile on your face that turns him dumb, you shift closer to him so that your bodies are side by side to each other. “Much better.” Damn it, Y/n. It was his duty to make you flustered, you weren’t supposed to make him turn to strawberry jam.
Your arms interlock with his–hugging it like a plushie, your head against his left shoulder and your eyes closed ready to sleep on the way to the Ginza shopping centre. His elbow leans against the window, he huffs slightly when he knows that you don’t even know what your touch meant to him. He stares off at the familiar outlines of his house as they slowly drift off to the mall as your body relaxes against his.
When you guys got to the mall, you were borderline sprinting to boutiques you wanted to go to. To Kiyoomi, had this been any other shopping experience it would have meant the most modicum and felt the most vapid experience in his years of living. However, your presence transposes his feelings– your excitement rubs off on him and he feels a little more fervour to enter the meagre shops in this infrastructure.
“Omi walk faster!” You mither with a forced pout on your cherry glossed lips, frustrated by his unwavering tempo you walk back at him and take his calloused hands, his fingers automatically interlocking with yours. Their classmates who recognised them flinched when they saw you touch Sakusa, but turned bewildered when he subtly smiled at the gesture instead.
“You’re too excited.” It wasn’t a protest to your chirpiness, but a mere comment that you knew was a compliment from Sakusa.
Your feet successfully enters a shop after having passed at least twenty boutiques, Sakusa sits on the beige sofa and feasts upon your gleeful state. You reach out for the calf-skin bag in front of you, cream in colour but with pink peonies and carnations painted on it, the iconic ‘D’ hanging on the bag. “Omi, does it look good on me?” You question.
Sakusa didn’t know how to respond, that question was foolish in nature itself. Did the bag look good on you? Yes. But were you the one who made it look good? Most likely. “Yes, of course.” A sales assistant comes up to the both of you.
He was new, his face unfamiliar to Sakusa and you. “I think this one would suit you better, miss.”
However, his opinion makes Sakusa uneasy, well mad to be the most precise. The glisten in your eyes slightly fades, you hand over the saddle bag to the sales assistant for him to return it to the shelf. Sakusa stays quiet, maintains his composure but his anger doesn’t subside with the passing time.
The sales assistant hands you a different bag, cheaper in looks in his opinion and wasn’t your style at all. It was ostentatious, definitely not your style. You try on the bag with a forced smile that doesn’t slip through Sakusa’s perceptible eyes. “It’s not really my style.” You laugh off forcibly. “May you take me to the ready to wear section instead?” You ask politely, wanting to run away from the bag section immediately.
Sakusa gets up and follows you to the cabine on the upper floor of the boutique. The room was dimly lit, no one else there but you three, Sakusa traces your gaze where you were glancing at the navy blue peacoat that was new this season. He walks to the rack himself and grabs it for you. No words said, just actions.
He passively hands you over the wool coat.“This would look amazing on you.” His tone is dull, but his words are honest and plain. Your heart thumps, cheeks slightly warmed with his words.
“Ah, thank you Omi.” You take it from his hands, and unbutton the coat for you to try on. The coat fits perfectly on you. You stand in front of the mirror, Sakusa is just a foot behind you and stares at your reflection in the mirror, admiring your beauty silently. He takes a step forward, untucks your hair from the jacket, the tip of his fingers frisking your neck which you became hyperaware of.
“Hey…I can do that myself.” You were supposed to raise your voice slightly but your volume came quieter than a mouse’s squeak.
You always found one thing amusing about your dear friend and that was his blunt words. You found it funny when he insulted the guys in your class but that was just Sakusa stating facts and knowledge. You found it funny when he made fun of Komori for his poor taste in clothing stating it was ‘lacking in class.’ They were all funny to you but now his bluntness perplexed you. “I know you can. I just wanted to do it for you.”
“You’re such a weirdo Omi.” You grump and avoid eye contact on the full length mirror. Sakusa doesn’t say anything, swallowing your words as compliment because he knew it meant it served you well,
He can’t recall when he began appreciating your presence. Perhaps it was when you had a spare mask in your bag when he couldn’t find where his one went. “Omi, here you go.” You caught him by surprise, you tip-toed in efforts to match his tall stature, your fingers grazing his skin ever so slightly whilst you tucked elastic material around his ears. You were careful with him, treated him so gently like he was going to break with your soft touch, he was new to that feeling.
Maybe it was that other time when you guys were in first year of high school, Sakusa was unpopular amongst the other guys in the volleyball team. You guys were standing outside the gym, you were walking with Sakusa to the volleyball club because you wanted to see what the Itachiyama volleyball club was like but you didn’t expect vulgar comments to be spat from his very own teammates to your dear, sweet Sakusa Kiyoomi.
He was accustomed to distasteful comments due to his prowess despite having less years of experience. He paid no mind to it, why should he listen to people who were inferior to him?
However, you cared. Your heel raises from the ground, your palms covering his ears, your warmth enveloping his face. “Don’t listen to them, Kiyoomi.” Sakusa’s never seen that look on you, your gaze stern almost cold— you looked indifferent. A sight foreign to him, he felt blessed being the only one to witness this side of you. “Some people are just crass, don’t worry Kiyo, I’ll take care of it.”
Take care of it you did. The boys were sent to a 3 day suspension and made to write apologies to Sakusa. He was unwonted to this unwarranted treatment, this was peculiar on his palate. He’s used to not caring, indifference, detached from emotions such as anger or hatred but you carried it for him, felt it for him.
Was this friendship or was this love? What was this to you? Was this modicum or plenitude to you? Was this concern or care? What was he to you?
Perhaps he began liking you when you guys were kids. The new family next door in the exclusive private neighbourhood, you wore pink dresses or skirts full of laces and frills, white socks with heart patterns, quite loud yet mannerful but he didn’t like you because you were cute and pretty.
You were just like any other girls at kindergarten, you being neighbours didn’t catch his attention, you were just dull like everyone else. He always thought that way until his mother forced him to socialise with you, “go play in the garden” the adults say to have their private conversations.
Sakusa follows you to your well kept garden, the golden sphinx fountain sat in the middle of the grass spitting water from its mouth and surrounded by a variety of colourful flowers.
He was about to sit on the bench until you called his name. “Sakusa-kun!” Your voice had a higher pitch back then, in the present now deepened due to time and hormones.
“Come sit.” Your wool cardigan laid on the freshly cut grass. Sakusa knew then that you weren’t just some dull girl, you were considerate, kind, observant. Now you’ve hooked him.
“Fine.” Little Sakusa Kiyoomi says, his tone quite passive. Were you guys supposed to share that tiny cardigan you wore? He removed his navy blue jumper leaving him in his short-sleeved white shirt, placing it flat next to where you had placed your cardigan. He sits on your cardigan. You tilt your head quite befuddled by his actions. “Sit on my jumper.” He instructs.
You sit down on his jumper, brushing your small hands on your bottom as you sit down to make sure the skirt of your dress doesn't lift. “Sakusa-kun, you’re so kind.” It was childhood innocence speaking, he assumes as he remembers the memory.
“You’re weird, L/n.” That was probably the nicest thing you’ve heard from little Sakusa.
You lightly laugh at his words and shrug your shoulders playfully. “I think you’re weirder, Sakusa-kun.” You sit on your knees and rip the carefully grown flowers from your garden. Had he done that in his mother’s garden, he would have received an earful already.
Your small fists place the flowers on Sakusa’s raven hair, his wavy hair being the most perfect canvas for your mother’s flowers. Sakusa didn’t mind it. Odd. “You look like Rapunzel now.”
“She’s a blonde woman.” He states as a matter of factly.
“I know, silly.” You roll your eyes at him. He was confused but does not push you any further.
Sakusa would have never done what he was going to do had the person in front of him was different. He rips the pink flower closest to him, he gets on one knee and leans towards you, situates the flower on your right ear. “Now, you’re officially a princess.” His face doesn’t watch his intentions, especially the dulled cadence he always speaks in.
Maybe that was the first day he became mesmerised by you.”Really? Am I truly a princess now?” You delicately touch the flower he placed on you, afraid you might ruin what he had given to you. Your lips curve up so much he thought it might be painful. Sakusa blushes at the scenery before him, catches him the breath, your smile, your visage became the most ethereal to him.
Perhaps that was the moment he’d associated happiness with you.
Sakusa snaps back to reality when he hears the sales associate ask if he should pack that one up for you which you vigorously nodded your head at. You looked so elated that it made him happier too.
You finally get out of that shop after purchasing a few more things, tapping your dad’s credit card immediately before Sakusa taps his instead but you kept a watchful eye this time.
Sakusa lifts your shopping bags single handedly with his left hands so his free one could hold your vacant palms. You guys hold hands instinctively, neither of you knowing if it was romantic or not but both of you knew it was comfortable. You both knew that it felt right, there was no need to stray away when it felt perfectly in place.
You guys enter a dress shop next, the main reason for your coming. You guys both sit down next to each other on the comfort of the soft seats, the catalogue in your hands whilst the sales associate stood near you guys for the moment you ask for their assistance.
Your hand flicks through the pages, skimming through every dress until something felt appropriate but it was hard. Should you go for a sweet-heart neckline, scoop, square or v-neck? There were so many to choose from it made you slightly dazed.
Sakusa watches the pages as you flick through them, the skin between your eyebrows slightly tightened, your bottom being lightly chewed on, your indecisiveness clearly painted on your face. Your hands abruptly stop, you stare at the dress that was printed on the paper. It was simple, elegant, and timeless. A dress that would embody your beauty.
The dress was sleeveless, ended just above the ankles, white floral prints with gold accentuates. It was the perfect dress for the charity ball, you didn’t even need to try it on. You knew it was the one. You chirpily call over the lady and ask for the dress in your size.
Just when you were about to get up and get ready to leave, Sakusa halts your steps. “Pick more dresses you like, I’ll pay for them.” You were about to open your mouth but Sakusa gets to you first. “Don’t decline, I want to give you a gift.” Sakusa’s already set his mind to it, you knew there was no way you could talk him out of it.
You try on a few dresses this time and every time you open the curtain of the dressing room, Sakusa’s world freezes, his mind captures you perfectly and burns you in his brain. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, he can hear his thoughts running wild. Perchance he was going crazy but you glow more and more each time to try on a different dress.
“Omi…Omi…!” He returns focus when he hears you calling out for him. “I think this dress doesn’t flatter me.” You say, slightly insecure by the way the dress shaped you.
“Nonsense.” He shakes his head, angry at the words you say at yourself. How dare you hurt yourself? "You look impeccable."
“I’m tired. I don’t wanna try any more dresses.” You whined at him, this was the 12th dress you tried on and Kiyoomi kept on insisting on “one more” each time he promised “it’ll be the last one.”
“We’ll take every dress she’s tried on.” The lady nods at Sakusa. “Actually, those dresses that are on that rack too.” He signals the rack that were designed for everyday wear rather than special occasions, they suited your style and Sakusa knew that very well.
“Yes sir.” The lady knew that her commission was looking good enough today. Selling one dress would be enough to cover her monthly necessities like rent, electricity and water bills but selling twenty five dresses? She wouldn’t need to worry about money for at least a year and a half. Rich kids were the best.
When you both stepped foot outside the shop, you had a small sulk on your face. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” His heart aches at the sight of your saddened eyes.
You were guilt-ridden, you didn’t want Kiyoomi to be spending his money on you. You know he’s from a prominent family just like yours but you knew the value of money; you knew how much work needed to be done in order to earn billions of yen. “Omi, you still have some money, right?”
Sakusa Kiyoomi wanted to laugh at your needless worry, how could you worry your brain over some humdrum thing. He chuckles at your words, takes a hold of your hand and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your skin is soft compared to his. “You don’t need to worry about such trivial things when you’re with me, especially money.” He brings up your knuckles to his lips and presses a soft kiss.
You, all of a sudden, feel hot all around your body. Gosh he was so hot. One thing about rich boy Sakusa Kiyoomi was that he was never subtle. His affection was blaring but to you that was just Kiyoomi’s odd quirk. He’s always been different from other kids. You impetuously pull your hand away from his lips, taken aback from his physical affection. This is just Omi being weird, you convince yourself, he’s just being a weirdo like always.
Sakusa Kiyoomi may have had his parents credit cards behind his back but he had his own income too. Modelling contracts from Calvin Klein, Prada, Bottega Veneta, Cartier and Lacoste for their tennis sportswear though he doesn’t even play tennis. Alongside college, volleyball, and modelling he also traded stocks and owned dividends of his family’s company. Sakusa Kiyoomi may be the youngest in his family, but he was no less financially capable than all his other relatives.
Sakusa had a smug smirk on his face, cocks his head to the left and daringly looks at you confused as if he wasn’t the weird one. “Omi, you’re annoying. I hate you.”
“You like it though.” He retorts back. He inwardly laughs at your spineless words, you can’t say you hate him when you’re now grabbing his hand to drag him to your favourite cafe. You especially cannot say you hate him when you spoon feed him your favourite opera cake every time you eat in the little sweet shop.
Sakusa pushes open the glass door of the patisserie, the warmth inviting you in, the scent of the sugary goods luring you further. You had a small bounce in your step when you walked towards the counter. “Will you have the usual?” You respond with a nod. Sakusa orders for the both of you and taps his card readily on to the card machine.
You sit somewhere near the back of the cafe knowing Sakusa preferred tranquil over the distinctive chatters of the people in the patisserie. He rests the shopping bags down the floor and rests his elbows on the circular table, a thin vase placed in the centre with a handful of baby’s-breath.
“Okay Omi.” You place both of your hands on the table, your posture shifting when you lean towards the table. “Me and you have only dated for a month, but we’ve liked each other since second year of high school. I confessed after you guys won the volleyball collegiate match.” Sakusa could barely hear you but he wasn’t listening per se, just watching those kissable move as you said different words.
“Then, we should act real couple-y around them like hold hands or something.” As if you don’t already do that. Whatever you want, he’ll do it. Just say it and he’ll follow. Just how did those love struck eyes slip past you? “We should make out too.” Sakusa nods barely registering your words.
“HA!” You point an accusing finger at him. “I knew you weren’t listening.” You sit up straight, your back against the wooden chair. “I knew you were too compliant.” You cross your arms angrily in front of him, just in time the waiter arrives and settles your order on the table.
“What makes you think I won’t make out with you if you ask?” He wasn’t properly listening, that was true, but his response wasn’t a lie. The waiter nearly tips over the coffee upon hearing Sakusa’s words.
“Omi shut up! Please!” You cover your face with your palms, biting your lips harshly.
“Baby, stop being so shy.” You thought you’d gotten used to that silly pet name he’d always call you but now his words felt more intimate and too real. You space out your fingers just exposing your eyes, you see that stupid wolfish grin on his lips that you found enticing. For a guy with no dating experience, he sure did not act it.
You wanted to die, the waiter attempts to bite down his laugh at you two but it escapes his lips slightly. The waiter walks away, you move your hands away from your face and pick up your dessert fork while muttering a string of curses under your breath which you made loud enough for Sakusa to hear.
Sakusa sips on his espresso, you fixate on his long slender hands then move on when he licks the foam off his upper lip, you watch it with intent, you gulp– possibly at your cake or him. “You okay there?”
“Perfectly fine.” You go back to eating your sweet treat. You scoop up a piece of your cake and feed it to him, he doesn’t hesitate to take it. Maybe you know or don’t know but those were indirect kisses to him. “Kiyoomi?” You call out his name in a dulcet tone, erasing the bitterness of the coffee from his tongue.
“Hmm?” He hums, lips pressed on a tight line while he looks at you with unreadable eyes.
You wanted to ask him what you meant to him, but you bite your tongue and swallow your momentary courage instead. “You should enjoy sweets from time to time with me, you know.” You find an excuse immediately.
“Am I not?” A genuine question slips from his lips, was he not giving you what you wanted? Does he need to do anything more for you? What else do you want him to do?
“All you do every time we come here is drink that espresso. Don’t you have cheat days or anything?” You stab your cake so hard that it shakes the plate a bit. You wish you could express your true intentions instead, but you were a coward.
His hand reaches towards your face, you should have moved back from his touch but you wanted his skin on you, his thumb brushing the corner of your lip to remove the cream that had gotten on to your face. He brings his thumb towards his lips and cleans his thumb with his pink lips. “Do you need to tell me something?” Worry wrapped around his words when he noticed your complaint wasn’t the truth.
“No, just that.” Your response was short and hastened like you wanted to run away from something. He lets you off the hook this time, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by forcing you to do something you didn’t want.
He sighs heavily and opens his mouth to tease you. “You’re such a messy eater.” You roll your eyes and begin talking about the new boys in your course that you desperately wanted to get rid of.
“So they’re loud and annoying?” He repeats what you recant to him from your very distinct memory.
“Yes!” You exasperate with a sigh. You flail your arms around the air, your words alone not enough to express the distaste you had for the guys in your class. “And one of them just can’t take a hint.” Your words cause Sakusa to slam down the mug on the table, he loses his well-crafted facade of composure.
Sakusa was a vicious man in nature, he’s used to having everything, he’s used to taking care of things he treasured well but he seemed to have messed up with you. “What’s their names?” He felt frustrated at himself, you guys go to the same university and he didn’t even know such treachery was happening in his presence.
“Kiyoomi, it’s fine. I handled it…” There was a pause in your words, you averted your gaze and looked at the meaningless passerby outside. “I told them you were my boyfriend.” Sakusa’s shoulders relax as if a weight had been lifted off his chest.
“Good, that’s good.” He reaffirms your choices. His right leg still shakes under the table, his jitter that indicated annoyance and anxiety.
“You’re not mad?”
“You already claimed me as your boyfriend in front of random girls, there’s nothing wrong with adding a few guys on that list.” He bluntly replies. Sakusa may have not shown it physically but he was in euphoria when he heard that.
You were an independent woman and Sakusa Kiyoomi loved being the man you can be dependent on without fear or doubt. He loved knowing you had trust in him. He loved knowing he was the only man you could be secure with when you needed a hand. He felt special and he loved it.
Somehow, you still couldn’t see that. “Does that mean I can call you my girlfriend too?” He asks with a wolfish grin.
“Yes, of course. It’s only fair that you can do that.” You look away. You weren’t supposed to say that, you should have just said ‘Omi, you’re being a weirdo’ like you always do now he’s choking on his own spit because of you. His knuckles touch his lips as he coughs out the pressure from his throat.
Once you were finished eating you couldn’t move, your stomach feeling heavy from the cake and the caramel frappe you ordered. “Wait here for a bit. I’ll be back.” He stands up from his seat and slips the wooden chair under the table.
“Hey! Where are you going?” You exclaimed when he gave you that empty reason.
“Toilet.” He says but he walks out of the cafe instead of using the establishment’s own toilet and goes in the opposite direction of where the mall toilets were.
“Weirdo.” You fish your phone out of your back and aimlessly scrolled through instagram, liking posts of your favourite celebrities whilst you awaited Sakusa’s return.
Sakusa Kiyoomi was power-walking to the upper floor where you both began shopping, he looked at the familiar sign of the shop you guys first entered. The workers were bewildered by his return, not judging because they knew he was an odd man.
One of the sales assistants follows him as he walks towards the bag section. “Pack that bag up.” He commanded, his voice demanding and military-like. They heeded by his words silently, their gloved hands grabbing the bag you gawked at awhile ago.
Sakusa watches impatiently as they wrapped the bag with thin tissue paper then placed it in a white box, he turns his attention to his left wrist, deep prussian blue behind the hands of the clock, brown leather strap, the numbers on the watch were in roman numerals. The watch you gave him was exactly his type, simple but made a proud statement. He loved how he carried a piece of you with this watch, a quiet reminder that you stood by him.
“I apologise for the long wait, here you go.” The wait wasn’t long, Sakusa’s patience just happened to be as thin as the epithelial layer of his heart. He quickly pays and makes his way back to you.
He watches as the smallest hand of the clock moves relentlessly, the space between his steps was already long enough due to his long legs but he widened that gap a little more just to get back to you quicker. He swiftly moves against the crowd of teenagers, their loud chatters nearly deafening his ears.
12 minutes. He was gone for 12 minutes. He spent 6 minutes in that shop, 3 minutes walking towards and 3 minutes walking back. Twenty percent of sixty minutes and something had already happened to you.
A vein appears in Sakusa’s right temple when he sees you through the glass window, forcing yourself into a conversation with three guys that clearly did not entertain you like he did.
“I don’t think I see your boyfriend anywhere. He really shouldn’t leave you alone like that.” His tone was condescending, it made your heart hurt of anger– you hated how his eyes seemed to degrade you with just a glance, his gaze lingered with a poorly masked impertinence.
Sakusa rushes to push the glass door open, he wants to remain his composure, he thought he’s polished his patience after all those training camps with Miya Atsumu when he was still in high school but his current state proves him wrong.
“My boyfriend had a call to make.” You make an excuse for Sakusa, a pair of heavy footsteps looming near which you didn’t even notice.
He rolls his eyes at you. “He’s been on call for ten minutes?” He looks back at his two friends to gain petty validation. “Don’t lie. Stop being so difficult and come with us already.” He attempts to coax you, well forcing you to be more front.
Sakusa’s presence lurks behind them, his six foot three stature towering their heights. His voice was deep, snarling slightly, his fist was clenched, the handle of the gift he gripped on so tightly as a displacement of his anger. “She’s not following you anywhere.” The hairs on their necks stand up, necks staggering to look back to see who owned that presence.
They look up at Sakusa, but only the guy who was impudently sitting across you was the only one to receive his glare. “Babe!” Your heart relaxes when you see him, the worry in your eyes eases when you see him. Sakusa would have loved to bask in the joy of you calling him ‘babe’ but he was presented with a very difficult situation.
You push yourself out of the table and rush to Sakusa’s side. You only intended to stand beside him, get behind his back cause you started feeling irked by the way those guys watched you. Sakusa was quick to grab you by the waist to bring you closer to him, his side pressed against you. “Were they bothering you?”
You hesitate momentarily, should you escalate the situation or just ignore it? “Yes. Babe they were saying that I couldn't possibly be dating you, telling me you’re a bad boyfriend and all that.” You look at them slyly, fighting off the smirk on your lips, your tone was obviously laced with false sadness and fear– even Sakusa knew that.
“Hey man we just thought she’d been lying about the whole boyfriend thing you know.” He tries to play off, slipping off the chair carefully with a laugh like he’d step on a landmine.
“You’re calling my girlfriend a liar now?” The guy freezes up. Sakusa’s already onyx eyes darken with his words.
“No!” He quips. “We’re really sorry about this, let us off this time, hm?” The guy was practically begging Sakusa right now.
“Apologise.” He halts their escaping figures. Sakusa didn’t care for the authenticity of their forced apologies. He just wanted humiliation, exorcise fear to make them squirm like you did.
“We’re sorry.” They bowed in unification.
Sakusa wasn’t satisfied with the apology when their main thought in mind was to run away and not humiliation. “Again.”
“We’re truly sorry, L/n-san. We’ll leave you alone from now on.” Their heads were held in place, eyes staring at Sakusa’s leather shoes and your cream-coloured heels, faces burning up in humiliation. They haven’t bowed this deeply since they were five trying to impress family relatives.
“Kiyoomi, just let them leave.” You plead slightly, Sakusa’s hardened gaze immediately softens, his brows un-creased, the vice-grip on the bag loosening.
Sakusa heaves a slow, deep breath. “Leave our sight.” Sakusa turns his focus to you once they begin to sprint off to the exit. He holds your shoulder, assessing you from up and down with a worried look like you were gonna die from the bubonic plague. “Did they touch you anywhere?” His heart aches of concern, stomach churning from stress of what could have happened.
You push off his hands with your arms and clasp his calloused hands with your soft touch. “No, don’t worry Kiyoomi.” Don’t comfort him when you were clearly the one in peril, not when your hands were all of a sudden cold-ice when it was borderline summer.
Sakusa sighs, you were too kind, too sweet, too caring, your own heart didn’t have enough room for yourself. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t comfort me when you’re the one that’s not fine.” So, Sakusa Kiyoomi took it to himself to make up for the care you couldn’t give to yourself and gave so much more.
You stay silent not knowing what to say. His fingers wound up around yours tightly but not enough to hurt you, just enough to say ‘I’m here, I’ll make it all better.’ Something in your chest uncoils like histones. He’s here. I’m okay now.
Your trust in him was immovable that no waves could trample over, something time couldn’t make fade like statues, his presence was reassuring– something you could fall back on when you stood up for too long. You hated yet loved it at the same time, guilt settled on your heart.
This was Sakusa Kiyoomi, a man languid to love despite his flirtations. You shouldn’t wish for something more.
You guys both leave the comfort of the patisserie, with hands intertwined together, you rock it gently while you guys walk back to the car park. “Where were you, Omi?” You were interrogative, slightly feeling saddened that he wasn’t there when you needed him.
“Sorry, Y/n. I just wanted to get something for you.” He gives your hand a small squeeze, he didn’t dare meet your eyes– ashamed of his absence.
“Hm? What is it?” Your ears perk up in curiosity, your sullen mood half-way faded when you heard those magical words.
He hands you over a large bag, you take a peek inside but only to see a large box. “Open it when you get home.” His cheeks lightly dusted pink, heat gathered from his neck and worked its way upwards.
“Thank you for the gift, Kiyoomi.” Your sadness dissipates to air, your stomach flipping on itself when the thought of him thinking about you runs through your mind.
Sakusa Kiyoomi, your best friend for two decades, bought you gifts incessantly from designer hairpins from MiuMiu or Prada headbands all the way to exclusive bags from the infamous french luxury brand that comes wrapped with the iconic bright orange boxes. “Thought you’d like this.” He’d always say while he shoves the gift onto your hand, maybe because he had too much money to play around with but it made your heart feel funny. You liked how he thought of you, liked how he cared enough to engrave your preferences and opinions in his mind.
Sakusa Kiyoomi feels like a tween boy when you utter his name like that, the mellifluous tone entwined with gratefulness for his actions. Mayhaps it was the way you looked at him like you were the happiest person alive, maybe the way his name rolled out of your tongue, could also be the way you would praise him for getting you such an immaculate gift; perhaps, those were some of the reasons he bought all those things for you.
You were Sakusa’s favourite drug he couldn’t stop taking, his favourite flower he couldn’t stop watering, his favourite book he couldn’t stop reading. You weren’t like his daily habits that he’s already perfected, not like the shirts he’s perfectly arranged in rows in his wardrobe, you were unsteady– the presence he felt subjected to.
He was used to controlling things around him, his parents and teammates too, every heed was by his until you bombarded his life. You swept him like a wave and led him to whichever direction you were heading too. To Sakusa Kiyoomi, you were the view at the peak of the mountain to which he was sublimed to.
The day concluded with both of you reaching your respective homes, you begged Sakusa to stay over but he reluctantly declined. His self control has been dwindling lately, if he ever spends that night with you, the volleyball player might just confess and kiss you.
You sit cross-legged on top of your bed after your shower, the silk pyjama covering your soft skin, you grab Sakusa’s gift, opening it gently as if the box will fall apart on you. Your breath stagnates on your throat, that familiar feeling pooling in your chest again.
That leather bag you were gawking at awhile ago now in your hands, in your ownership. “Sakusa Kiyoomi, what in the world is wrong with you?” You attempt to compress the curve on your lips but it grows more untamed as the thought swallows you whole– Sakusa Kiyoomi observed you.
You grab your phone that you had placed on the white nightstand, open the camera, the left bag pressed against your cheek whilst you hold it up, you smile at the camera and take a photo. Your fingers speedily send the photo to ‘Kiyoooooomi’ who opened your message not even a beat later.
Sakusa smiles, saving the photo to his camera roll, he will most likely save that in an album dedicated to the selfies you’ve sent him. ‘I take it you like it?’
You lay your back flat on your bed then roll to your stomach, elbows propped up against the mattress. ‘Why ask? You already know the answer🙄.’
‘Just wanted to make sure you love it.’ Sakusa spins on his chair, throws his head back and stares at the three dots on his screen.
You reply with no hesitation, not even thinking what you had typed out on the keypad. ‘I’ll love anything you give me.’
Sakusa doesn’t know what to reply, his long fingers hesitate to reach out for the alphabet in front of him. You were flirting, right? ‘If I give you a ring, would you like it?’ Fuck it. He swallows his momentary cowardice.
You wanted to scream. You had to scream or you'd burst. You plant your face on the mattress and yell incoherent sounds. After a good few seconds of yelling, you lift your face up and begin tapping your fingers on the screen. ‘Who knows? Give it a try and let’s see.’
Sakusa types out a message and deletes it again, he does that again and again for a few more times. ‘Go to bed.’ He concludes the conversation otherwise he might end up truly proposing to you. You were truly an innocent vixen.
Wednesday came, you and Sakusa usually came to school together on Wednesday because your classes started at the same hour. “Sorry about the wait. Couldn’t find my damn textbook.” You say as you slid on the black leather seat of the vehicle, closing the car door after you entered.
“No worries.” He says coolly. He admires you for quite some time, breathing in your scent that hung on the air inside the car, your coffee coloured houndstooth bouclé skirt that ended midway your thighs, sable coloured cotton, long-sleeved top that hugged you tightly but not in an uncomfortable way.
You place your handbag on top of your legs and textbook on the space between you and Sakusa. You guys both sit in the comfortable silence during the whole ride, Sakusa occasionally stealing glances at you, your head pressed against the glass.
When you guys arrived at campus, you rushed out of the car with a quick “Bye, Omi!” He watches as your silhouette slowly faded from his sight. Sakusa places one foot out of the car then the other, his large stature exiting the car with a slight struggle, when he was about to push the car door close he sees something on the seat. A thick textbook, hardback cover with a blue paper sleeve, titled ‘Quantum Physics.’ Sakusa inwardly fist pumps, as he finds a reason to get to you.
He swings the car door open and carries the heavy book in his hands, judging you silently for your tastes in subject. He’d always been an Organic Chemistry guy, hated Physics and its stupid Newton’s laws or whatever and couldn’t care less about the difference between scalar or vector quantities.
He takes long strides to your building which was on the west wing of the campus, the building was just next to his so he wouldn’t even be late if he took the book to you. People look at him as he walks by, it was hard not to look at when he was on the front page of the university’s magazine and the face they’d show off in pamphlets.
Sakusa’s internal monologue was running on 50 engines, why was he nervous you may ask? He’d been dreaming about marrying for the past two nights and the dream always ended with him not slipping the ring on your finger. What if that dream was a prophecy? That can’t be, right?
This resulted in Sakusa’s team suffering, he was just new on the MSBY Black Jackals roster and he’s already giving them a hard time by giving spikes that could send someone straight to paradise. Miya Atsumu was the very subject of the harassment, then Bokuto Koutarou was next but hey! If they can handle his spikes, they can surely face Schweiden Adlers with no troubles.
He reaches your lecture hall, his hands pushing against the oak door, he spots you immediately in the sea of faceless heads. He could tell by the way your hair laid on your back, the way your body positioned itself on the seat, it wasn’t that hard to spot you at all. He walks down towards where you were, people muttering wondering why he was in the lecture hall when his class was clearly on the other building.
You didn’t hear his heavy footsteps, didn’t notice his presence until your friend stopped her sentence midway and looked up at something behind your back. You turn to see Sakusa Kiyoomi, your supposed boyfriend. “You left the book in the car.” He states plainly.
“Oh thanks babe!” You say, giving Sakusa that look, reminding him of the favour.
“You really shouldn’t forget. What could have happened had I not noticed?” He reprimands you in a genuine gentle manner that no one ever thought Sakusa could do. When people bumped into him, he’d say ‘watch it’ or click his tongue in annoyance.
Sakusa exhales, his eyes seemed dull towards other people but you know that wasn’t the case. “Thank gosh you were there then.” You beamed a smile at your “boyfriend.” He picks up the cue immediately but unsure of what you wanted him to do.
He pulls down his black mask just enough to expose his lips. He leaned down to your face, pressed his damp lips on your right cheek which you acted like that was the most casual thing you’ve gotten used to. “I’ll see you later then.”
Everyone’s jaws slacken like their face muscles were of no use, your lips had an awkward curve no one could notice but Sakusa. “Yeah, see you.” You manage to make out despite the invisible object lodged on your throat.
He leaves you astounded just like everyone else. Your friend was hitting on your shoulder, stifling her giggles but was poorly uncontained. “YOU WEREN’T LYING?” She whisper-yells, rocking your shoulders fervently.
Unbeknownst to you, the raven haired man with matching sable eyes had his heart thrumming because of you, the soft plush of your cheeks remained on his lips, he chewed on his bottom lip— striving to push away the thought of what your lips would feel like.
Lunch time was not any better. Komori sat in the empty space left of his cousin, rambling about the teacher assistant he had for his Sport Science class, saying something about “talking too much” or “being too strict” but those words came out of Sakusa’s ear at the same rate it went in.
“Sakusa, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Komori hisses, he’s used to his cousin’s behaviour but will forever hate the feeling of being ignored by him.
Sakusa watches you, tucking your hair behind your ear whilst you were speaking to that guy who could possibly be from your class. He breaks his glare. “Huh?” He grumbles, clicking his tongue at his cousin and nearly rolls his eyes at him. “What?” He says sharply, his words obviously translating: Don’t actually say anything, I don’t care.
Komori says heavily, pokes on the food in front of him, “Maybe if you’d confessed, nothing like that would happen.” Komori says with a hum, a sing-song tone that rubbed on every single nerve of Sakusa Kiyoomi.
“Shut up. Besides, I’m her boyfriend.” Komori dramatically drops his chopsticks on his tray, bouncing off to the table which Sakusa squirms at the sight of.
“SINCE WHEN?” Komori slams his hands down onto the table, garnering the attention of those who sat around them.
“Sunday.”
“WHAT? WHY?” Sakusa looks at him, offended by his question.
“She asked me to be her fake boyfriend.” He clears up the cloud.
Komori’s heart settles back in place, almost relieved by the news. You were up for a ride if you were to date his cousin. “Just a fake. You should have mentioned that first.” He descants.
Sakusa’s eyes magnetise towards you again, the guy was obviously into you and making moves but you couldn’t pick up the signals. Of course you couldn’t. He’s been loud and clear ever since his teenage hormones exploded but you never picked it up. It was a funny sight to watch the guy struggle but nothing was truly amusing when someone was trying to take the very jewel he’s had his eyes on. “I don’t care.” He pushes himself against the table, standing up from the hard seat. “That’s gonna change soon anyways.”
Sakusa walks up to you two with intent, placing his hand on your right shoulder causing you to jolt up a bit. “Baby, hurry up and come sit. I’m hungry.” His tone was commanding but soft and patient.
“Oh Omi, sorry about that.” You quickly dismiss yourself from the conversation you were having, Sakusa smirks so hard that not even his mask could veil it.
Sakusa carries your bag for you, the leather strap on his shoulders so that you could carry your food comfortably. Heading off to the table where he had left Komori by himself, your backs turned to the guy, Sakusa twists his neck back and looks at the guy with the look that screamed, ‘I win.’ He could almost laugh watching that disdained look on the guy’s face.
No one in this world could handle you, too great and too precious for everyone else, Sakusa Kiyoomi knew only his hands were large and gentle enough to make sure you were treasured.
Sakusa with his free hand, places his palm on your back, just where your shoulder blade was which you didn’t even notice and gives your back a small frisk with his thumb. This was Sakusa Kiyoomi practically declaring his love for you in front of an audience of university students.
“Thanks for carrying my bag Omi.” You chirp. He untucks your chair for you and slides it in when you have positioned yourself comfortably, an act he’s always done for you—something menial, a habit, that both slipped your minds. To him and to you, this was just him being him. Perhaps, serving you was encoded in his DNA.
“Talk about casual.” Komori mutters under his breath, sneaking away from your ears and Sakusa’s.
Sakusa sat on his seat and began eating his food after you’d touched yours. His tray was picked with your favourite food just so he could give it to you because he knows you’d want some more. He places pieces of meat on your rice bowl, you look at him bemused. He feels your gaze but does not look up from his tray. After not reciprocating your eye contact, you get back to enjoying your lunch pretending to be passive of what he just did.
Your chopsticks pick up the umeboshi sitting on the very smallest rectangle of your metal tray and place it on Sakusa’s tray where his umeboshi was piled up, you place each Umeboshi one by one without looking at him too. You’ve always done this. You weren’t too sure why.
“Fake dating, they say.” This time was picked up by Sakusa who throws him a glare, Komori raises his hands in the air and his lips form a downwards curve.
“Motoya-kun, I heard the TA in your class was bad today.” You begin talking to his cousin, Sakusa listens to the conversation not daring to join in because he truly couldn’t care about the damn T.A.
His cousin goes on but his words slips his attention, only watching his favourite view from his uncomfortable seat. He listens to you laugh at Komori’s stupid jokes, some people may think your cheeks warms too easily but Sakusa doesn’t think so; you just happen to appreciate every single thing that makes you smile. Also, you loved Komori’s shitty jokes.
Sakusa gets up from his seat, wordlessly, walks up to the freezer to grab some ice cream for you three— well his intention was mainly for you. He grabs your favourite flavour of the frozen treat like clockwork, takes vanilla for himself as he enjoyed the clean flavour that didn’t overwhelm his tongue, and takes whatever for his cousin.
He walks back and places the small tubs in front of you guys, but he opens yours for you. People in the canteen who took notice whispered amongst themselves, nudging their friends and telling them to “look at Sakusa and L/n.” Sakusa paid no mind.
“Thank you babe.” You say out loud in a normal volume, but exaggerated the petname to highlight your faux relationship status. Sakusa replies with a hum, ignoring the way his heart fluttered with the way the endearment rolled off your tongue.
Your hands begin its work, the wooden spoon nearly breaking at the hardened cream but you manage to successfully get a decent scoop after five attempts. Sakusa and Komori digs their ice cream with ease, Komori giving a snide comment of how much you were struggling. “Did they put this in liquid nitrogen or something?” Your annoyance gets the best of you.
Sakusa shovels a huge chunk of his ice cream onto his spoon, he lifts it up to your face and waits for your mouth to open. You opened your mouth and heavily appreciated the gesture by showing a pleased look on your face.“Ohhh this brand of vanilla ice cream is amazing.”
Sakusa grabs another scoop, now for himself and places it in his mouth, pleased with the impeccable choice of his taste buds. “Want some more?” He asked, even if you were to say ‘no’ he would probably force it in your mouth anyways.
Komori Motoya, libero of EJP Raijin had his jaw wide open, wider than the distance across one end of Asia to another. His cousin, Sakusa Kiyoomii not only shared his food but also fed someone with the same spoon. Sakusa had always been cautious, he didn’t dare take risks when it came to things that would compromise his health. Sakusa Kiyoomi never even caught chicken pox as a kid. Saliva was one of the biggest transmitters of pathogens and he willingly took that risk for you. He knew his cousin was madly in love with you, but to that degree? Even Komori could not have predicted such an oracle.
“Damn. You’re crazy.” Komori says out of blue which both gained bemused faces from you two.
The evening arrived for the charity gala. You were sitting in front of your vanity, the bright light illuminating your face and casting away any shadows that dared to settle on your face. A gentle knock raps on your door, “It’s me.” You hear a deep voice, slightly muffled by the door. There was only one person it could be.
You get up from your white chair hastily and open the door for Sakusa, your makeup only missing your signature lipstick. You were still in your silk robe, the length just falling between your thighs, Sakusa didn’t dare look down at your figure. One, because he respected you. Two, because he might genuinely break the years of self-control he’s had.
“Am I late, or are you early?” You ask as you turn to the clock in your bedroom. “You’re twenty minutes early Omi.” You say after you read the time.
“I was bored, so I rushed to come here.” He explains himself as if that was a normal thing to do. You nodded your head, brushing away his antics and decided to return to the vanity to apply your lipstick.
He settles himself on the couch in your bedroom, making himself comfortable on the cream cushion and watches you by your reflection on the mirror. You really shouldn’t be letting a man in when you’re getting ready, you looked too decadent not to devour.
You went into your 150 metre squared walk-in-closet and removed your robe, placing it on top of the clear glass drawer where your jewellery was. You slip on your dress, admiring the way the colour looked on your skin and how the dress showed off everything you wanted to show. You struggle to zip up your dress, your fingers failing to provide proper strength needed to pull the small piece of metal.
“Kiyoomi!” Sakusa jolts from the calling of his name.
“Yes?’ He replied loud enough for you to hear.
“Come in here and help me zip my dress!” He could hear the frustration in your voice, he followed your command with no complaints.
He opens the door to your closet and sees you with your arms to your side, zip halfway done exposing your face, you hold the dress up on your chest— careful not to show him anything. “Thank you, Omi.” You say, slight bitterness still remains on your tongue.
“Hmm, no problem baby.” He responds in his deep baritone voice. His hands were shaking, a complete contrast to his built up confidence.
There was something about the way Sakusa followed whatever you said that made your body squirm uncomfortably in a good way, you liked it. He abided by you like you were law, like it would break his moral compass to not follow you. He was always so careful with you, how were you not to fall in love with him.
His cold, slender fingers frisk your back as he holds the top end of the fabric, his eyes laser-focused on your bare nape that enticed him— he takes control of his chest, the beat of his heart muscles pounding on his ribs, his chest rises forcibly slowly.
You, on the other hand, was fighting the ID that screamed for you to ask him to hold you. Let his hands linger around you more than friends should, maybe profess your love to him at this very second. You try hard not to look at his hardened jaw in the mirror, the way his brows were partially creased, the black blazer tight on his shoulders, his vest embracing his tiny waist like cling film on a plate, his Adam's apple situated on his neck.
Perhaps you could have zipped your own dress by yourself, struggled a few seconds more and you would have definitely managed on your own but Sakusa Kiyoomi was in your bedroom. The man who submitted to you, the man who loved favours from you. Wasn’t it the wisest choice to call out to him?
The zipper is pulled taut. “There you go.” His voice rasps, nearly breaking into a croak.
You both untensed after the long awaited zip that took only 7 seconds. “Kiyoomi, help me pick jewelleries.” You open your drawer, shifting the focus on something else other than the mutual tension of yearning that happened just a moment ago.
Sakusa walks with you to your drawer, his eyes scanning the multitude of yellow gold or white gold chained necklaces in your drawer, each of them adorned with emeralds, rubies, sapphires or diamonds, and a few pearl chains here and there. “How about this one?” He points at a white gold chained necklace, the centre piece being a tear-drop cut of sapphire, the chain had an alternating pattern of flowers of diamonds that glimmered under the warm light of your closet.
“Oh I like that. Wasn’t that your birthday gift for me last year?” You recall how you pressed a dampened kiss on his cheek when you opened the square box with velvet texture when you opened it.
Sakusa knew that of course. “Yeah, it was.”
“You just wanna show off what you gave me.” You tease.
“Think however you want.” You weren’t too wrong about what you said. So, Sakusa doesn’t fight back on your tease. What better statement was there to say you were for no one else but him than have you wearing the jewellery passed down the Sakusa family line that everyone knew of.
You were about to pick up the heavy necklace but Sakusa gets to it first. He holds the necklace in his hands, he looks at you with a beseeching gaze. “Let me put it on you, please.”
Who could possibly say no to that? “Sure.”
You both walk back to the tall mirror, to see how it would look on you, Sakusa lays the jewellery on top of your skin and makes eye-contact to ask for your re-affirmation that you wanted this necklace. You nod at him, giving him the ‘go’ signal. He clasps the necklace, struggling slightly because his fingers were thick— slightly calloused from the years of volleyball that not even high-quality hand creams could prevent.
You both meet eye to eye in the mirror, Sakusa’s gaze was heavy, cleaves on your skin wherever it travelled. He returns his eyes to you, his large hands touches your ribcage and slides it down to your waist and stays there. His hands clutched on your waist, giving it a gentle knead whilst you both looked at each other eye to eye. His thumbs stroke your clothed skin. He leans down, not breaking eye contact and kisses your shoulder causing your chest to rise up rapidly. He places another peck, now on your collarbone, and another one on the base of your neck.
“Omi.” You mewl.
His lips remain on your neck, “Hmm?” vibrating against your soft skin when he hummed. He gives it more kisses, his slick saliva leaving small imprints on your skin before it evaporates to air.
“We’re gonna be late.” You say, resisting the desire to let this take a step further.
“I know.” Your eyes blink rapidly, the eye contact being too heavy for your heart. The way your back was pressed against his, his chest spreading the heat to your body was all too much. “Look at me.” Kiyoomi was never to ask favours from you, but this will be one of the moments he’ll ask for it.
Your lids struggle to remain open, this position, this proximity, this new profound feeling made it all too much for you. “I’m your boyfriend for the night aren’t I? Isn’t this what boyfriends do to their girlfriends?” This time his lips latch on to your neck, giving it a gentle suck to make sure it wouldn’t bruise, he wasn’t that crazy. Your hands on his lower forearm, just to find somewhere to touch him.
“You’ll let me have this, right?” You couldn’t say no, because you wanted this too. You give him a nod, giving him permission to go on further. “This is a little practice, just to close distance a bit, ease ourselves into our y’know— relationship.” He moves his hands, now in the space just below your breasts, the thumbs just pressed up against your bosom. “Just to make sure we’re not so awkward in front of everyone, you know what I mean right, baby?”
“Yes, of course, Kiyoomi.” You say whilst drawing a breath out. To Sakusa Kiyoomi, this was him being in control of his urges, repressing what his hormones wanted. However, if you utter his name in that sultry tone again you guys just might not make it to the gala.
“Omiii.” Your voice drags out, he can feel your ribs rise up and down fast from each suck he gave. “We’re really gonna be late.” As much as you wanted this, you guys couldn’t be late. Sakusa unlatches himself from you, his gaze darkened, his hands remain on you, your eyes now fully open and connected to his stare.
“Now we’re prepared.” He says with a grin, he pulls you back closer to his chest, palms on your body. “We look so good together.” You look at the two of you, perfectly cladded in expensive fabrics and jewellery, well-refined as an outcome of all your etiquette lessons. Sakusa holds you tighter, presses you onto him. “Look at us, we’re so perfect together.” He rasps against your ear, hot air blowing onto you.
You both leave your closet, the air heavy and thick between you two, desire clinging onto the air.
When you both arrived at the gala, you people amongst your age and your parents who arrived before you two. “Kiyoomi, you look sophisticated in that suit.” Your father compliments as he gives Sakusa firm handshake.
“Thank you, L/n-san.” He replies, not with a smile on his face but your father understood what kind of man Sakusa was.
“Dear, you look amazing on that dress.” Your mother comments, giving you a hug when he says it. “My, is that the necklace Kiyoomi-kun gave?” Your mother places a hand over her lips as a gasp escapes her.
“Yeah.” You reply, your finger tips brushing against the necklace.
“It’s dashing, really.” Your mother further comments causing Sakusa’s chest to swell with pride. The pride doesn’t escape your father’s watchful gaze, he was all too familiar with that look, after all he was like that ever since he fell in love with your mother.
“Honey, we need to get going.” Your father reminds her. They both walk away after telling you both to enjoy the evening.
Sakusa holds you by the waist as you walk around the banquet hall, your heels clicking against the floors, you both wander around aimlessly just to brag about how you both have each other. Komori spots you both from a distance and pushes past the crowd to reach you two.
When he sees you two, wrapped around each other like a koala on trees, he quirks a brow at his cousin, giving him the look ‘congrats on making a move.’ “Hey, lovebirds.” Komori leans his elbow on Sakusa’s shoulder, struggling slightly due to the few inches of difference between them.
“What do you want?” Sakusa grumbles, perturbed by Motoya’s presence.
“Woah there bull-dog, just came here to say your mom’s looking for you.” Motoya bobs his head in the direction where Sakusa’s mom was.
“What does she want?” Sakusa loves his mother, he truly does, he appreciates how much she understood his need for privacy and order but when it came to ruining good times, his mother happened to top that.
“Dunno.” Komori shrugs his shoulders and averts his attention to you.
“Y/n-chan, do you wanna come and grab some champagne with me?” Komori gives you a sweet smile, fluttering his long brown lashes at you like a puppy.
“Sure, why not.” You unlink your arm with Sakusa which caused him to frown.
Komori offers his arm to you as a replacement for his cousin which you gladly accepted, not thinking much of it. Komori gives Sakusa a teasing smirk, his cousin emitting a dangerous aura which made Komori smirk even further.
Sakusa grabs your forearm, stopping you from leaving with his cousin. “I’ll be back.” What was sweet, reassuring words to you was a threat to Komori who was stepping on his nerves.
“Don’t.” Komori says quietly. Invoking Kiyoomi’s wrath was funny, but enduring the consequences were tragic. Komori walks away with you to the champagne tower, half amused and half mortified.
Sakusa heads off and settles a conversation with his mother, a girl his age standing next to his mother. He knew exactly what this was. Although his mother partially approved of you, she also knew there could also be a better fit for him.
The girl had long straight black hair, dark brown eyes, heavy pearls on her neck and an emerald coloured dress. She was compliant, but clearly uninterested in him. Pitiful, he thinks. She was clearly the type to be subservient to her parents desires.
“This is Ishizawa Mayuri, a daughter of the Ishizawa Holdings.” She gives him a court bow, passive, too uncaring but Sakusa doesn’t find it disrespectful or whatever after all he expressed mutual feelings.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sakusa-san.” Her tone bone dry, not even pretending to put up a show in front of their parents.
“Likewise.” He returns the same energy, not bitter— just the same.
They both exchanged meaningless chats, business talk mostly, not daring to cross a personal boundary they both set.
You observe from afar, champagne on your right hand, slight burn on your throat each time you take a sip. Jealousy? Could be. No, you weren’t jealous. You were a dignified woman who couldn’t care for such things, you didn’t have that much time on your hands to be caring about someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend.
“Easy on the champagne, Y/n.” Komori comments after you finish your third glass.
“Whatever.”
“Sakusa is rubbing off on you.” He shakes his head. Komori leaves you to go to the toilet and tells you he’ll be back in a few.
You were a sweet girl, just like caramel. You greet random strangers on the street, make conversations with the cashier as they scan your items and give your umbrella to your friends when they don't have theirs. You never felt such green feelings. You swear you never did. You and Sakusa weren’t dating, you guys were just friends. So why was it that you felt a bubbling resentment towards Sakusa when you watched the scene far from you?
He can’t do that. He can’t hold you like you were his. He can’t place his lips on your skin like you were his. He can’t look at you like that, can’t speak to you like that, can’t care for you like that if he doesn’t like you. Can you be mad at him? Act like you never wanted him in the first place? Act like he didn’t make you feel all those feelings in your chest right now?
No, you can’t. Not when he’s the only man who understands your days of silence. Not when he’s the only man who keeps you up nights, legs kicking on the bed. Not when he’s the only man who loves your independence and your drive for success. Not when he’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, that man you’ve loved since you were fifteen.
Sakusa finally leaves his conversation with the girl, ending with a polite nod to each other and heading off far from each other. He walks back to you. Of course, where else shall his feet take him? You ignore his presence, albeit forced. “What’s wrong, baby?” He grabs your hand and brushes his thumb on the back of your palms.
You huff. Perhaps he was doing this because your friends were watching, just on the round table next to yours. “Nothing.” He doesn’t believe such an obvious lie.
Sakusa Kiyoomi was clingy, something he’s only shown you but you never seemed to notice it was only for you. “Are you mad at me?” He brings your palm to his face, cupping his face with your hands, his warm silk skin you just wanted to caress but you fight the desire to do so. “Don’t ignore me, please.” Your friends on the table next to yours giggle. They knew you were made of iron.
“Omi, I’m not ignoring you. I swear.” Your body language says otherwise, your posture shifted away from him, not even looking at him while speaking. You were just staring at your father who was about to start his speech on his gratitude for his business partners.
Sakusa wants to pry, maybe get on his knees to hook your attention away from that cold glass on your hands and off your father but he doesn’t do anything more. He’s cautious, calculative, and careful. Prying you any further will definitely just push you away and he wasn’t going to risk that. He can’t.
An uncomfortable silence sits between you two, your presence froze his skin, he wasn’t used to this. You weren’t used to this. You blame him. It was his fault. He’d spoiled you of his attention, and made it all seem like it was just for you and now he was sharing that to someone else? How preposterous.
Sakusa lets go of your hand, pulls you closer to him by throwing his arm around you and his hand gripping on your shoulder. This was familiarity, something Sakusa Kiyoomi always does when you’re upset, stroke your shoulder, press his side on you. He won’t let you leave upset, if you had something on your mind then you must speak it. Bottling what needs to be said does neither of you good.
Some of your family friends come over to the table, disrupting the still air between you two which clearly shifts you and Sakusa closer together, closing the tiniest gap between you two. They weren’t truly friends, the type of people you work with because they bring good money, the type of people that will whisper behind your back to ridicule your tiniest mistake, the type of people you put up a forced smile with.
Sakusa knew of them though barely, but he knew your body language to ignore the way you placed the champagne glass down with a slight slam, the way your eyes squeezed too tightly while giving a performative smile. He knew you too well.
There were two girls, two boys, each of them cladded in heavy jewellery, flaunting their disgusting wealth. “I didn’t know Sakusa Kiyoomi was the boyfriend you spoke of.” The guy spoke, a rotten grin on his face that nearly made Sakusa break his inner balance of good and evil. “You don’t seem well-suited for him.” The thin thread of patience inside Sakusa snaps.
He removes his hands away from you, ready to speak, maybe throw a vacuous punch too but you stop him. Your long nails forming crescent marks on his wrist. He looks at you, any unspoken feelings awhile ago long faded by this second, you were calm. Too calm. Your smile grows. “Is that so? I mean, I don’t think there’s anyone more befitting for him than me.” You just laugh, it was a laugh of mockery, a laugh to their feeble intelligence. A vein pops to the guy’s head, jaw tightened from what you said.
“This can’t be just some show, right?” The girl says, her arms crossed, brow raised with an amused look on her face.
“Believe what you will. I’ve no intention to entertain you.” You simply say provoking them further. If there was something Sakusa Kiyoomi knew about you, it was your art of provocation and humiliation, nothing appeased you more than ferocious looks from others.
One of the girls was Sakusa’s former fiancée, well– an arranged fiancée but the volleyball player decided so much against it that he threatened to sell the business plans to the opposing companies. She was bitter, she didn’t care about not having Sakusa Kiyoomi even though she desired him, but the fact that he threatened his own family just to not get engaged to her was the epitome of humiliation. She was the centre of jest in high-society for months for that. Everyone was talking about how L/n Y/n had him on a leash.
You grab the glass of champagne that was clearly Sakusa’s and take a sip from his glass, your lipstick leaving a mark on the crystal glass. You hold the glass up, and just like clockwork, Sakusa takes it from your hands like a butler and a mistress. He drinks from his glass, directly where you had left the print of your lips.
Fake dating or not, Sakusa Kiyoomi was fucking crazy. He would have never done that, not to anyone. To them, he was making a statement. To you, he was bragging about something non-existent. To him, you were already his. What else could have that scene in the closet meant? Friends with benefits? No way, that’s too improper and crass for Kiyoomi. It was just his roundabout way of saying, ‘I like you, I want you.’
You scratch the skin on your neck, compelling their gazes on the necklace that hung heavily on your neck. A quiet grin of victory on your lips. “Gosh, this necklace is heavy. I told Omi he should stop giving me such heavy jewellery, it drags the neck down. If you know what I mean.”
The girls bite their lips hard, stopping themselves from calling you a ‘showoff’ or ‘improper’ but their tongues twisted on itself out of jealousy. Sakusa Kiyoomi did not just make you his girlfriend, he wholly gave you the title of future wife of Sakusa Kiyoomi. “Ah…ha…ha.” They force out a laugh, not knowing how to climb up from humiliation. “It’s beautiful.” They say as the muscles around their mouths strain.
Sakusa drinks from his glass, tongue embracing the taste of the expensive champagne in his mouth. “It would be improper to give you any jewellery less precious than that.” He states simply like it was a fact, not forcing sugar on his tongue. He wasn’t playing along with you. He was just stating the truth from his book of law.
“You’re such a sweet, Omi.” You lightly giggle, giving his shoulder a gentle slap then a slow rub. He doesn’t move away from your touch like he does with everyone, he leans to it, looks for it. He doesn’t overtly show it, but he relishes this feeling from this opportunistic event, his eyes soften ever so slightly.
“We’ll leave you guys then.” They force another smile, the sweet caramel on their tongues they couldn’t swallow.
“That would be a pleasure.” Sakusa says in a low tone but loud enough for them to hear. He wasn’t one to sugarcoat his words, he didn’t hide his knife behind a shield but sheathed it bare in the air.
Sakusa’s presence cuts the stale air, replacing it with a threatening one. He stares down at them, “Don’t pester us again.” He says coldly. They walk away, forcing their necks up high, biting down their pride and swallowing the shame.
You unlatched yourself from Sakusa once they left, you expected him to feel more comfortable being away from your touch but he wasn’t. He was queasy, and felt disgusting without you. The animosity returns and you walk away from him, hiding your green feelings— ashamed to feel such a way when you guys weren’t even together.
Your heels click onto the marbled tiles, Sakusa follows from behind wordlessly but panicked. He didn’t know what he had done to upset you, he wasn’t used to your forced silence and he doesn’t want to get used to it. He didn’t want to hurt you by grabbing your wrist, so he tugs on to your forearm so gently that you could slip away without effort.
You grab your arm away from him and push open the glass doors of the balcony, he still follows you like a duckling. He closes the door behind him, your cold shoulder scares him, your silence bit harder than stray dogs, poisoned deadlier than venom. “Talk to me, Y/n.” Sakusa could never command you, he could only beg you. Your back facing him, elbows leaned against the veranda whilst gazing at the water fountain down below.
You harshly turn around, he expected your ferocity but met him with tear-sodden eyes instead. “Don’t talk to me like that.” Sakusa takes a small step forward, you straighten yourself, pupils shaking as you speak to him. “Why do you treat me like that?”
“Like what, Y/n?” The anticipation was choking him.
“Like you like me.” Sakusa’s heart nearly stopped. God you were so dense. “Why do you treat me like you want me? Hold me like you want me. Spoil me like you want me.” You were rambling, looking away in between your words; your repertoire when you were overwhelmed.
Sakusa takes a few more steps forward, cups your face with his right hand, brushing away the tear that fell from your eye. “Why do you look at me like you love me?” You met his eyes. “Don’t treat me like this when you don’t even want me.” But you don’t back away from his touch, somewhere in your heart you knew this was your repose. “Kiyoomi, please don’t confuse me.”
What could have possibly bemused you? Sakusa asks himself. He was sure he was clear. He was your man. He desired to be yours. He’d shower you with his affections, think of you while he was in a different country and buy souvenirs of things he knows you’d like. Every hard work he poured into his career was not just for him but for you too, he made smarter financial investments just so he could retire earlier for you. Don’t you get it? He has always been yours.
“You’re so dense.” He says brusquely that he almost sighs. “Do you think I let other women touch me? Do you think I let other women enter my bedroom? Do you think I buy other women dresses or bags?” Kiyoomi wants to kiss you, pour his love into you but he can’t. Not yet.
“I’ve loved you longer than I’ve loved myself. No, actually, you made me love myself.” To say you were stunned was an understatement, it was like someone knocked the wind out of your lungs, perhaps there was no more oxygen in the air. Sakusa Kiyoomi speaking about him was not just rare, it never occurred.
“I love you so much that my heart aches without you, my days feel out of order without you. I hate being without you. I hate it when you can’t come to my games cause you have exams. I hate it when you’re sick because you make me worry. I hate it when you come home late at night cause what if there’s some weirdo. I hate it that you make me worry. I’ve never worried about anything, not anyone. Just you.” Kiyoomi presses his forehead against you, his breath against your lips. You grip the wrist of the hand that was touching your face, not tightly but just there.
“So when you ask me why I do all those things, why I look at you like you are my everything. That’s because you are. I only let you order me, Y/n, just you.” Sakusa Kiyoomi was mad, madly in love with you. “So, yes. I love you.” He breathes out, his lips brushing against you.
“You’re supposed to kiss me now, you weirdo.” He takes that as permission to press his lips on you, a simple peck turning to something else, mouth opening slowly to take it a step further. His lips were soft, slow, indulging. He sucked on your lips like a hardened caramel sweet, his hot muscle painting your lower lip but you tame him, forcing him to be slower.
His left palm pressed on your lower back, his other hand still touching your face. Sakusa savoured you, swallowed your breaths, his heart in his ears, your hand tugging on his tie— pulling him down like he was on a leash. Was it crazy for him to say that he loved it?
You pull away from him, but your grip remains on his black tie, “I love you too, Omi.” You finally say. Sakusa could die happy now, his feet felt like they weren’t even touching anymore. The moon glistened on your face, contouring your face with shadows, the noise of water falling from the water fountain down below, this was perfect. You were perfect.
“Say it again, please.” He begs, voice cracking, you giggle at his words, a melodious sound to Sakusa’s ears.
“I love you, Omi. I love you a lot.” The warmth envelopes you two, replacing the cold midsummer night breeze, something within you two knew this was the beginning of everything. Perhaps destinies were written, perhaps there was a divine being up above that brought you two together because this was what Kiyoomi ever wished for.
The moonlight illuminates you two, your sapphire earrings twinkling from the gentle gleam of light, your lips, lashes and eyes, they all carried your grace. Sakusa Kiyoomi felt star-struck, he’s been falling for this beauty every day and he’s never got tired of it. He doesn’t think he ever will.
The stars aligned themselves, red strings threaded tightly, the earth spun at perfect angle and acceleration, you both belonged in the same universe in the same lifetime, lived under the same skies and breathed the same air. If this was not fate then what was it?
Perhaps it was all by chance, a stroke of luck that you were the girl that moved next door. Whatever it is that brought you two together, Sakusa Kiyoomi will thank whatever force that was because this was the biggest blessing, the greatest gift the heavens bestowed him. Talent, money, looks…etcetera, were nothing compared to you— his only jewel, his very treasure.
This nocturne not even Van Gogh could replicate. This was everything. If he had used up all of his luck in the world to have you, he wouldn’t trade that for anything, wouldn’t regret it one bit.
“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than anything.” You press your face on his chest, hiding from the stars and moon. He caresses your head, places his head on top of yours, his curly locks tickling your forehead. You clutch the fabric on his chest, roll your face to the left and press your ear on his chest, you hear his heart that seemingly beats only for you.
how do people post on Tumblr everyday, I'm jelly :(
summary: just some cute things they do in a relationship
pairings: atsumu :: osamu :: suna :: kita :: oikawa :: iwaizumi :: matsukawa:: semi :: akaashi :: kenma :: kuroo :: daichi :: suga :: sakusa :: komori :: futakuchi :: keishin x gn! reader (these characters just started adding themselves, i swear)
warnings: only my undying love for these characters
haikyuu masterlist || tokyo revengers version
Letting you stick your cold feet under his legs (with only minimal complaints) x Miya Atsumu
Atsumu is a whiny complainer at heart, so whenever you creep your frigid feet underneath his thighs while watching a movie, he’s doing exactly that: whine and complain. But he never pushes you away or moves his legs. Instead he drapes the blanket higher over you and tugs it in, his warm palms running up and down your calves caringly. He’s also bought you numerous pairs of fuzzy socks and cosy blankets, worrying aloud about your health and blood flow, especially in winter. Then again, it is a good excuse to pull you in closer and bundle you up in his comfy clothes, so who is he to complain, really?
Offering you his food x Miya Osamu
Osamu takes his food very seriously, still, he offers you the first bite without fail. You’re also his most important critic, always getting to taste test his creations, whether it’s for his shop or just for the two of you. He might roll his eyes playfully when you eye his food after saying you’re not hungry but he’ll still share. After all, seeing the content expression on your face as you chew your (or his) food is one of his favourite things.
Sending you stupid memes x Suna Rintarō
The fact that Suna has a near infinite amount of unflattering candids and other blackmail material of his friends on his phone is something you’re well aware of. So it shouldn’t be surprising either that he is digging up the most cursed reaction pics or posts to send them to you with nothing but ‘u’ following it. But, among all the weird stuff, he sends you cute animals cuddling and tags them with ‘us’. Every time you respond with ‘that could be us but you’re at practice’, his teammates come up to ask what he’s smiling about.
Buying flowers without occasion x Kita Shinsuke
Kita doesn’t believe in letting societally accepted commercial holidays dictate when he buys you flowers or chocolates or takes you out on a date. No, he prefers showing his love for you equally all year round. Oftentimes, that means you coming home to a bouquet of flowers or being told to keep your calendar clear for the weekend. To him, grand shows of affection once a year pale in comparison to a steady stream of adoration. After all, your relationship is built on the small acts of love you share each day.
Taking weird photos with his phone x Oikawa Tōru
There’s no room to argue that Oikawa and you trust each other blindly. Considering the circumstances of his career and the vigour of his adoring fans, you kinda have to. But Oikawa has always been very open and honest with you, even going so far as to outright tell you his phone’s passcode. And you use that knowledge wisely. No, not to go through his texts or social media. Instead you open his camera when he’s not around, taking a myriad of selfies or pictures of random objects near you for him to find later. After a night out with his highschool friends, Tōru might wake up to a pretty set of new wallpapers too.
“Helping” him work out x Iwaizumi Hajime
You’re not sure if you’re really all that helpful as you shuffle around your living room, handing Iwa water or a towel as he powers through his at home workout. Maybe ogling his biceps or the way his tank top clings to the defined pecs and abs underneath is what you contribute to this training session. Well, you’re good at that, anyway. But your time to shine comes as Iwa asks you to hold onto his legs as he does sit-ups, giving you an even better view. All your hard work is rewarded with the kiss he presses to your lips each time he leans up.
“Is this guy bothering you” x Matsukawa Issei
Whenever you stub your toe on the edge of a drawer or bump your hip into the edge of a table, hissing at the shock and/or pain, Matsukawa is right beside you in seconds. Then, after assessing you’re not actually hurt, he turns towards the offending object with a glare. With his voice lowered by an octave or two, he’ll ask “Is this guy bothering you” before pretending to get ready for a fight with the big bad. It’s corny but you’d lie if you said it didn’t make you laugh.
Shared headphones and playlists x Semi Eita
Music is Semi’s passion, naturally he wants to share that part of his life with you. Not only does he play his own songs for you, he also shares his headphones with you, adding all the songs you like to your shared playlist. You’ve also started making recommendation playlists or playlists with songs that remind you of the other and swap them regularly. Driving with Semi is also the most fun, especially on late summer nights with the windows down, going nowhere in particular.
Understanding each other without words x Kozume Kenma
To outsiders, conversations between Kenma and you might seem a little court or even incomprehensible. He just happens to be the type that lets his actions speak rather than his words, unless he gets really fired up about something. Still, your communication seems to work perfectly - or maybe both of you just share a brain cell. Questions like “Have you seen my…” can just be left hanging like this as you’re already pointing out that his old Nekoma sweatpants are in the wash. But no conversations are clearer than the ones you can hold through eye contact alone. Sometimes rolling your eyes conveys more than a thousand words… or however that saying goes.
Letting you win x Kuroo Tetsurō
Despite his suit and tie career, Kuroo is still a playful guy at heart and he’s carrying that energy into your relationship. He also grew up around Kenma, so making a game out of ordinary stuff is normal to him. That said, even if he challenges you in a board or video game, he’ll let you win on purpose every now and then. Not enough to give himself away, but often enough to see your beaming grin. However, if it’s a physical contest like an arm wrestling match, he will let you win (or rather he won’t let you lose immediately) just to tease you over it. Aw c’mon, he knows you’re stronger than this, sweetheart.
Good morning/ good night texts x Sawamura Daichi
Daichi is a busy guy, often out of the house before you wake up or back in after you go to sleep. Depending on which shift he has to work and how your schedules line up, you might not see much of each other for some time. But that won’t stop him from being the sweetest partner, instead sending you good morning and good night texts as well as updates on his day/night, if he has the time. It’s something that came with the territory of not living together before, but the practice never really retired. Equally, it puts him in a good mood to see you update him on your day as well.
Bragging about you x Sugawara Kōshi
Suga is your number one fan, no doubt about it. Not only is he vocal about that to you but also everybody else, whether you’re there or not. Daichi and Asahi are kind of used to it already, but there is always some new unfortunate soul who gets to experience just how smitten he is with you. He never makes it uncomfortable but weaves his praise for you naturally into a conversation. And if it flusters you, that’s just all the better. Although, lately, the classes he’s teaching have picked up on it and are trying to stall for time by asking questions about you.
Writing notes x Sakusa Kiyoomi
This probably started out as something entirely practical. After moving in together, Sakusa just started labelling stuff, writing grocery shopping lists and sticking them to the fridge, especially on days where he left early for practice. By the time you pointed out he could just text you at any given time, he’d already gotten used to this little habit of his. But his messages had slowly turned from chore-related to reminding you to take care of yourself or informing you he prepped lunch for you to just telling you he loves you. The first time he wrote that last one, he blinked down at the note for a few moments before sticking it to the mug cabinet.
Midnight snack run x Komori Motoya
Obviously, Komori wishes his job wouldn’t pull him away from you as often as it does. Though that being said, it also makes coming home after an away game all that sweeter and he feels like the constant change of pace makes him cherish the moments you do get to spend together more than he already does. And he appreciates that you can indulge him, both in his lifestyle and whenever he gets a sudden burst of energy. So yeah, now you’re bundled up in one of his hoodies as you go on a late night snack run, your hand in his as you walk along the calm streets.
Remembering little things about you x Futakuchi Kenji
Futakuchi comes pre-installed with an attitude, no matter who you are to him, it’s his factory setting. And while he’s a lot softer on you as his partner, he’ll still give you a sarcastic quip or poke some fun at you when you complain about something to him. But he always listens carefully and commits it to memory. You offhandedly mentioned you’re running out of something? He adds it to his shopping list. You rant to him about a coworker who’s giving you trouble? Oh, he remembers everything you told him about that guy before (and he’s ready to drag him to hell and back if it makes you feel better). Whenever your birthday or an anniversary rolls around, he never has trouble picking out a gift for you; Kenji could list so many things you’re into or that you could have use for in your everyday life, it’s not even a challenge.
Getting into your hobbies x Ukai Keishin
Keishin has got to be one of the most supportive partners ever. Whatever you set your mind to or whichever hobby you dive into, he’s there to root for you. But he doesn’t stop there; he reads up on your interests, so he can actively participate in the conversation when you talk about them. Similarly, he also adapts to your lifestyle and tries to show up for you in all walks of life. You, on the other hand, also get involved in his life too; his parents were keen to meet you, considering they hounded Keishin to get married in his 20s already. He’d also be over the moon if you showed interest in his work as a coach and met the Karasuno Volleyball Club.
He sighed after the door was locked, tired of his teammates' antics. He side-eyed you, mumbling something like, “Sorry about them,” but the tips of his ears were red, and he kept fidgeting with his fingers. He was already plotting the funeral of his stupid friend and maybe the wedding and the size of your ring; if he got a date with you the next day, maybe his teammate would live.
He tried to hide in the corner, his face as red as a tomato, and he was almost passing out. He attempted to say something impressive to you, but it came out high-pitched, so he turned to face the wall, accepting his fate.
Yamaguchi, Asahi, Lev, GOSHIKI(?), Koganegawa
---
He chuckled when he saw your flushed face, as if he wasn’t the one burning. He asked if you were okay and comfortable, being a gentleman. He kept checking his watch, reassuring you, and trying to find a topic to discuss, trying to distract you from his flushed face and slightly nervous tone in his voice.
He attempted to flirt by whispering the cheesiest, most cliché pick-up line. When you didn’t laugh, cry, or seem impressed at all, his gaze fell to the floor, and he kept it there until the 7 minutes passed, regretting his choice of words, and perhaps his existence.
this is what falling in love feels like pt. 6 ➳𖹭 (fukurodani, itachiyama y kamomedai ver.)
characters : bokuto, akaashi, konoha, sakusa, komori, hoshiumi y hirugami
cw : fluff, small mention of yandere behavior
+ summary : How do the boys from Haikyuu act when they have a crush?
Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5 & Pt.7
bokuto kotaro
ఌ Everytime he listens your voice he turn his head to that direction like an owl.
ఌ If you smile, he smiles; if you are upset, he will be too; if you are sad, he will be too, and he will comfort you as best he can.
ఌ Konoha forbids you from going to practices and games, because if Bokuto sees you there, his energy goes from 100 to 1000. And who has to keep up with him? That's right, them.
ఌ Bokuto doesn't know what “shame” is; he has no problem waiting for you outside class or coming straight into class during every break. He invites you out all the time, takes you everywhere, holding you by the shoulder. Before you know it, you'll be doing the same job as Akaashi, only twice as much, because your attention must be solely and exclusively for the captain of the Owls if you don't want his emo mood to be a problem for the rest of the day. Good luck.
ఌ He never stops talking about you; his mind is divided between two main topics: volleyball and you. And sooner or later, he'll end up confessing his thoughts out loud.
akaashi keiji
ఌ Lord have mercy on him. This angel, can't stop overthinking about everything. Every interaction, every glance, every smile, giggle. He doesn't want to have false hopes and at the same time he can't help it.
ఌ His gaze always softens when he sees you. And can't help but smile a little bit when he talks to you. He sees you like you're something divine.
ఌ He gets tense when Bokuto interact with you, he knows that his best friend won't betray him, but he's afraid that Bokuto will accidentally tell you about his crush on you.
ఌ He doesn't have much self-esteem, which is why he can't help constantly comparing himself to others, which is why he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but his heart skips a beat every time you come back to him or look for him or wait for him after practice.
ఌ If you like to read like him, he'll invite you to go to the library together. Just the two of you reading together quietly and sometimes showing each other things that caught your attention is like a dream for him. He will be more focused on you than on reading. As I said, to him you are unattainable, almost divine.
konoha akinori
ఌ This sassy ass bitch have no shame at all. He'll bother you as much is possible, but you have to understand, this is his way to flirt with you (sorry).
ఌ Okay, Konoha can be annoying, but he won't hesitate to put anyone who messes with you in their place. Even if he doesn't say it, you're every important to him. Because you still be his side despite his attitude.
ఌ He'll try to keep you away from his captain. Is not jealousy, it's terror, fear, panic to being humiliated by his captain. Bokuto is prone to saying whatever comes to mind, he´s capable of exposing him.
ఌ When you two are alone, he's very chill, actually is easy to get along with him. Is in that moments when he just want to listen you forever, when others are around he usually is yelling about Bokuto and his energy or how his stupidity is actually a genius mind. But when he is only with you, his voice is soft, his gaze too, that "Jack of All Trades" atttitude dissapear, is just a guy who wants to be accepted for who he is, not for who he appears.
ఌ He can appear desinterested and being annoying, but when you get mad with him or you simply ignore him, that's when he start begging for your pardon. Small gifts, your favorite treats, acts of service, he won't say it, he will earn your forgiveness.
sakusa kiyoomi
ఌ Twin, I have a question for you... HOW TF YOU DO IT?!! YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS??!!
ఌ Leaving that aside. Congratulations!! Sakusa will always have an extra hand sanitizer, tissues pack, facemasks, gloves, and anything necessary to mantain hygiene for you.
ఌ You and Komori are the onlyones who can stand by his side without him going into an internal crisis (poor boy have social problems). He's popular, too popular for his liking, so feeling comfortable with others is important to him. That's why he took as a sign when you treated him like a normal person when you first met, you don't see him as a star or as a weirdo because of his OCD, you make him feel comfortable.
ఌ At this point unconsciously you adopted some of his habits. That's perfect for him because it means more opportunities for intimate interactions (don't think bad it means closeness).
ఌ Usually he's very quiet and shy, but with you he's a little more talkative, he even lowers his facemask to be more comfortable and create a sense of closeness with you.
motoya komori
ఌ Oh sweet precious boy, he cannot help it, he's literally a shiba inu, that means he lights up when he sees you, the best smiles for you.
ఌ Like his cousin, he's popular, but after practice or each game he looks for you.
ఌ He's a little possessive, he can appear to be an angel, but his true nature is more selfish. Your attention needs to be completely focused on him.
ఌ He celebrate every one of your achievements, from the smallest to the biggest. Whether you managed to eat breakfast or passed that examyou thought was difficult.
ఌ If he get flustered about something you said or a close interaction, he'll try to change the subject so you don't see his face turn red.
hoshiumi korai
ఌ Damn twin... your attention is solely for him and only. If go to the games, he'll look for you in the crowd. After the game, he comes straight to you to find out what you think of him or at least his performance has captivated you.
ఌ He's very direct; he says what he thinks with complete certainty. In others words, even if you reject him after his confession, he won't give up and he'll let you know it.
ఌ He has a goal and he's going to win. Your heart is his goal and he's going to have you no matter what, no matter the cost. He's going tu fulfill all your expectations.
ఌ He's very jealousy, like I said before, once he sets his eyes on you, you won't be able to escape.
ఌ He might be a little intense at first, but when you're alone you'll see a more peaceful side of him, a more vulnerable side. Because just as he fell in love with all aspects of you, he wants you to fall in love with him in the same way.
hirugami sachiro
ఌ Okey... so Hirugami... twin, he's obsessed with you, there's no one elsewho crosses his mind. You are his world. But he doesn't act possessive towards you, he lets the others know.
ఌ He's more open and more happier with you; he's not so reserved because in the end he's a little silly.
ఌ His love is more physical than verbal, even though he's good at talking; he gets nervous when expressing it.
ఌ He's super attentive, he always finds ways to learn things about you.
ఌ Have you seen how he treats animals? He'll treat you like his monarch, but you'll never know he has a crush on you until he confesses it himself.
motoya falls for a girl so stoic he can’t tell if she’s here to date him or emotionally assassinate him.
you were known for your face.
and not in the way komori thought you should be—like, “she’s so pretty i might perish dramatically in front of everyone with zero regrets.” no, you were known for your expression. the expression that never changed. the expression that could watch a building collapse and you’d still look like you were politely waiting for bus number 48 to arrive.
stoic. unreadable. the human version of “…” in a text.
you got it from your father—a man so stone-faced he once met sakusa’s aunt during new years and she genuinely thought he was a wax statue.
komori motoya fell in love with it instantly.
and violently.
the first time he ever saw you was in the hallway outside the gym, calmly eating a melon bread while itachiyama’s girls squealed past you about how “sakusa-kun looked like a god when he served today.”
meanwhile, komori walked by, half-dehydrated, holding sakusa’s extra wipes like a glorified purse. and you, with the facial expression of a tax auditor, glanced at him once.
just once.
and komori folded like a lawn chair in a tornado.
his brain short-circuited.
his soul left his body.
his knees physically buckled like he’d been struck by lightning and cupid at the same time.
you nodded at him. expression unchanged.
he had the audacity to blush like you’d whispered something sinful in his ear.
and then—
then the teasing started.
he didn’t understand how it was possible for someone with a face carved from marble to be the most effective flirter in the building. each time you spoke, each time you tilted your head the slightest degree, each time you pushed a stray hair behind your ear with the gentlest fingers known to mankind—komori basically combusted.
𓏵
today was no different.
practice had ended and sakusa was stretching in the corner while komori wiped sweat off his forehead, already glancing toward the door because he knew.
you always showed up at this time.
walking in with your slow, calm footsteps, expression completely neutral, like you weren’t the most emotionally destructive force in his life.
the door slid open.
there you were.
and komori, poor komori, dropped the towel like a 40-year-old Victorian man seeing exposed ankles.
“hey,” you said softly, the same calm tone that made him want to lie face-down on the floor and scream into the earth.
“h-hi—” his voice cracked like a 13-year-old boy discovering puberty.
you blinked at him. no smile, no smirk. just pure serene stillness.
the kind of face monks probably trained centuries to achieve.
but your eyes… they lingered.
that was the problem. your eyes always lingered.
you stepped closer, brushing a loose thread off his jersey sleeve.
“you’re sweating,” you murmured.
komori nearly ascended.
“y-yeah, practice, haha, you know, running— jumping— existing— i mean—"
you hummed, a soft, tiny sound that hit him harder than any spike.
and then—
you leaned in slightly. not flirtatiously. not dramatically. just gently, calmly, like you always did.
“you did well today,” you whispered.
if sakusa didn’t catch komori by the collar he might’ve fallen straight to the floor.
sakusa sighed. “get a grip.”
komori is gripping absolutely nothing.
your face remained unchanged. but your tone? your tone was the equivalent of warm sunlight on a winter morning. soft. kind. something that made komori want to protect you despite the fact he was 99% sure you'd beat him in a staring contest until he burst into tears.
he loved it.
he loved you.
and unfortunately, he was convinced you liked sakusa.
because everyone liked sakusa.
girls slipped love letters into sakusa’s locker daily. someone knitted him a scarf. someone else wrote a confession poem titled “hands so pure they must be sanitized.” sakusa ignored most of it, but komori noticed how you always went quiet when sakusa walked by.
never reacting. never blushing. never anything.
which, in komori’s dramatic mind, meant: you obviously liked him.
what he didn’t know was that you went quiet around sakusa because komori was next to him—and talking to komori made you feel uncharacteristically warm, and you didn’t know how to handle warmth.
𓏵
today, komori couldn’t take it anymore.
after practice, he found you outside under the sakura tree, scrolling on your phone with the exact same expression one might wear while filing taxes.
“can i— uh— talk to you?” he stammered.
you looked up at him slowly. “you are talking to me.”
he wheezed. he physically wheezed.
whole lungs malfunctioning.
“i just— i wanted to ask…” he swallowed, ears turning red, then scarlet, then full nuclear-core temperature. “d-do you… maybe… like sakusa?”
a pause.
a blink.
you tucked your phone away, staring up at him with that same unreadable face that made komori’s entire stomach fold into origami.
“…no,” you said simply.
“oh.”
another blink.
“i like you,” you added.
komori died.
komori actually died.
his knees hit the dirt. he threw his hands over his face. he made a sound so high-pitched an entire flock of birds took off from the tree in panic.
“m-me?” he squeaked from behind his fingers.
“yes.”
he peeked at you, eyes wide, pupils blown like he had seen god and god winked at him.
you, expression still the emotional equivalent of a closed refrigerator door, tilted your head. “should i repeat it?”
“NO— i mean— yes— i mean— wait— WAIT HOLD ON—”
you leaned closer, voice soft as velvet. “motoya.”
he melted.
actually melted.
his soul dripped out like lava.
“i like you,” you whispered again.
and this time, his nose started bleeding.
not like a cute anime trickle.
no.
full-on geyser.
sudden, catastrophic, medically concerning.
you stared at the blood. “should i get tissues?”
“NO— I MEAN— YES— I MEAN— YOU CAN’T JUST— SAY IT LIKE THAT— I’M FRAGILE—” he sputtered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he panicked.
you reached out and gently wiped a bit of blood from under his eye.
soft hands. gentle touch. stoic face.
komori nearly fainted again.
once he finally stopped hemorrhaging emotions (and blood), you both sat on the grass. you stayed close. closer than normal. your shoulder touched his, and he felt like he might spontaneously combust into artisanal charcoal.
“so…” he said shyly. “you like me.”
“yes.”
“and… you want to… maybe… go out sometime?”
you nodded once. simple. calm. definitive. “yes.”
he let out a noise that could only be described as a dying kettle.
you turned to him, finally—finally—breaking your stoic look with the tiniest smile. not big. not dramatic. but soft. real. gentle enough to crash his entire nervous system.
“does that make you happy?” you asked.
“happy? HAPPY?” his voice cracked again. “i feel like someone injected fireworks into my bloodstream— i feel like i could bench-press a train— i feel like—”
you rested your head lightly on his shoulder.
he stopped breathing.
completely.
you spoke quietly, eyes half-lidded, tone melting with warmth:
“i like you, motoya. i want to be with you.”
he inhaled sharply, clutching his chest like love physically punched him.
“i… i wanna be with you too,” he whispered back.
you reached for his hand. he let you take it instantly. your fingers intertwined with a slowness that felt sacred—like it was something meant to happen all along.
komori squeezed your hand gently.
you squeezed back.
“motoya?” you murmured.
“y-yeah?”
“can i kiss you?”
he short-circuited so violently sakusa probably felt it from across campus.
and then you leaned in, expression still calm, eyes soft, lips brushing his with the faintest, sweetest pressure—
and komori felt the world tilt.
flowers blooming somewhere far too dramatically.
romance movie violins playing even though no one hired musicians.
the sakura tree above you practically shedding petals like confetti.
when you pulled back, face unchanged, you whispered:
“you’re very cute when you blush.”
and then he died again. happily. dramatically. beautifully.
komori wasn’t sure if you froze him or melted him.
all he knew was—
you touched his hand again,
and he became warmth itself.
n: just like what i told @forgottensniper and i quote “komori is the most down bad marshmallow to ever breathe”
You sat down on the bench, much too close to Sakusa as you handed him his bottle. In contrast to your less-than-innocent grin, Sakusa immediately looked at you with his purest form of disgust.
“Okay?”
Not deterred, you sighed dramatically for effect before lying through your teeth. “PR wanted me to ask if you’re dating anyone?”
His eyebrows furrowed further into despair, if that was even possible. “Why, did someone post anything about me? Bet it’s that stupid gossip page-“
“Never mind that, I’ll let them know you’re not,” you rushed out before leaning your chin on your hand. “Speaking of dating, is your cousin seeing anyone?”
Sakusa looked stunned, which was something you hadn’t unlocked before, and you hoped Atsumu was taking a sneak photo from wherever he found himself at the time. Meanwhile, you batted your eyelashes and awaited his answer.
“I don’t know.”
Your smile switched to mischievous at a dangerous pace, and Sakusa tried desperately to scoot away from you.
“I think you’d know if he was,” you suggested, wiggling your eyebrows and nodding your head. “Maybe you could throw in a good word for me?”
“This team is a prison.”
As he escaped from your conversational clutches, you rubbed your hands together like you had gained the most valuable information. “Brilliant.”
