Year 1:
“I’m telling you, man. You just need to drink the protein shakes Dad and I have. Don’t worry about the taste, they’re banana chocolate flavoured. It’s actually quite delicious when you get used to the texture. Then you’ll just need to go to the gyms a few times a week to get these bad boys.” I said, flexing my 16-inch arms.
“Oh, and I can make protein pancakes! Maybe I can add it to other pastries too. It’ll be healthy, useful and delicious. I bet your mom could never have thought of that.” He said smugly.
“Dude, focus. Why does everything have to be cooking with you?”
“Sorry, I got too excited there. It’s just that I haven’t made breakfast you guys liked, it’s completely her territory. For now. Maybe If I make this, you guys will eat it.”
”You know we’ll have to finish whatever you both end up cooking anyway, right?”
“Yeah, that doesn’t count. I want you to eat it because you like it.” The man said, just when I thought he was sane.
”Well that’s irrelevant. Don’t you think it’s a great idea?” He asked.
Even though he’s a maniac, I have to admit.
“I guess it’s not bad, I don’t have to drink and eat at the same time. Just don’t make too much, you get easily full with those things.”
“Don’t worry about it man. Don’t you have morning football practice to burn off the calories?”
“Alright, just don’t put raisins in there. I heard somewhere that they make you dehydrated.”
I shoo him out of the door and start undressing. Contemplating on a compression shirt or an oversized Tee, my head starts running. I am objectively muscular, but compared to the guys at the gym, I’m nothing. I don’t think I’m big enough yet. Oversized Tee it is then.
Grabbing my duffle, I ran downstairs. Then, the scent of banana chocolate sweets blasted my face.
“Morning Jay, come try it out. This is really good.” Dad called out with his mouth half full.
I picked up the buttered pancake. It smells nice, with some cherry scent in there too.
“Dang, this is not bad, Pumpkin,” I shouted to him in the kitchen.
“Right? And with more space in the stomach for drinks, you can try Chloe’s fruit smoothie.” Dad said.
“Don’t worry sweetie, the fruits are from the farmers market so it’s healthy.” Mom yelled from the kitchen.
Looking back at the breakfast, it’s a bit more bulky than usual, but I’m gonna work it off in the morning drill anyway.
Without more hesitation, I dug into the full plate of pancakes and blueberry whipped cream.
“Sweetie, you’re already done? I have more in the back.” Mom said
“She really stepped up her game, right?” Dad chimed in.
“It was awesome mom. Thank you, and help me thank Theo too. But I really need to go now. The practice starts in 30.”
“Alright sweetie, stay safe and don’t be late. I’ll have David finish off the rest.”
“Wait, me? But there’s so much!” Dad whined.
“Love you Mom, love you dad, gotta go.”
I rushed out of the house with the faint sound of their replies.
I felt bad for Dad, since school started, I’ve been leaving the leftovers to him because of school. More often than not, Theo and Mom would overcook and we would be left with more food than we know how to deal with. So Dad would take his usual time for morning runs to finish it before going to work. I need to make it up to him somehow. I guess I could offload his burden by eating more on the weekends.
The practice went as well as it could with my stomach full of pancakes; although Coach thought I had a lot of potential with all the fumbles. Probably because Dad was a star quarterback here back in his days.
“You just need to get used to the team dynamic here, then it will all be fine, Jacob. Don’t sweat it,” Coach said.
It was easier said than done. Someone literally asked me how long my dick was, then groped my pec. At least in high school, people had the decency of being embarrassed.
Maybe I do need to chill off. Go to the club like they said. I do have the biggest pecs out of everyone after all. And I heard people like big glutes, so maybe someone would want me.
It took me a month to search up a club. I was not stalling. Then, another month to put the address into Google Maps. I was busy. Homework has been rough, the professor hates me and Theo needs me to restock. Nonetheless, I finally have time now.
Yay.
Putting on Dad’s old Beige Polo, I look pretty good. The shirt hugs my muscles too much for comfort, but it’s the one day of the month I’m supposed to look like a slut. The light is going to be dimmed anyway.
Fishing for the keys, my hand found some candied fruit on the stand. The guy even knows how to make candies from leftover fruits, who even does that? I grabbed some to put it in my mouth.
On my way out I caught a glimpse of my father in the kitchen. He’s been starting to brew homemade beers with steady progress.
“Oh, Jay! You’re going out? You got a date, yeah?”
He turned back, revealing the newly grown beer belly.
“What?! Of course not. It’s the shirt right? I look like a try hard.”
”Haha, be careful whose shirt you’re insulting. That was my lucky shirt.”
He misunderstood, I just thought I would look half as in place as he looks if I wear this. I really shouldn’t go.
”You’ll be alright son, you’re a charming young man. People will see that.”
My eardrums are fucking gushing blood.
The Club sound rattled through my bones as random guy number six and random chick number four came.
Dad was right. I was quite charming, TOO charming, even.
“Oh my gosh look at those arms,” running her hand, Random chick number four said.
“He probably has killer abs too. Wanna come home with me tonight, Jock boy?” Random guy number six said.
“Sorry man, I’m straight. I also have a friend waiting for me in the car.” I replied.
“Aww man, too bad. I wanted a dumb jock to rail me tonight.” He said while walking off. Seriously, what is up with people these days?
At least I still have my 16 dollar margarita with me in the corner.
Lost in my head, a potential random guy number seven approaches.
“Hey, what’s a hot guy like you doing in the corner?” Number seven asked.
“Sorry, I’m straight.”
“Ahh, my bad. Worth a shot,” He said.
“Man, why is every Dad bod fuck boys straight? Gay people are too obsessed with their bodies to have the look,” he added.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I have a thing for guys who look like you. Not really a jock anymore, but still attracts everyone.”
My 16 dollar margarita was spilt.
“Oh, Shit. Sorry I don’t know what to do.” I’m glad to not have a friend in my car waiting to see me embarrass myself.
“Don’t worry man, I’ll handle it.” Number seven said.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I have a Dad bod, is a fuck boy, or even gay. But the guy he described is the kind of masculine, wild man I aspire to be. Not a shit given to what people think. Maybe I can be that guy tonight.
“Sorry I’m not the Dad bod fuck boy you thought I was.”
I already butchered it. Why the hell did I say that? That’s not what a guy without a care in the world would say.
“What if you are.” He reached under my polo and grabbed my abs. Or softer abs, cause he’s clearly grabbing something.
“But I’ve never done this before,” Holy shit, I need to shut the fuck up.
“No worries, you just need to sit back and enjoy.”
I look back at the rotting toilet. Maybe not sit.
“We’re gonna make this quick, alright?” He said. Then gave my stomach a quick squeeze.
I’m telling Mom and Theo to cut back on the food tonight.
He slid down the zipper and tugged on my dick.
“You’re not who I imagined to be, but I like pathetic boys like you too.” He said.
“Wait, what? I - fuuuck.”
He uses his thumb to twirl around my cock head; then the freak proceeds to lick my stomach pudge.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I involuntarily groaned.
“Hahaha, seems like it would be quicker than I thought.”
He laughed. Fucking laughed at me. And my dick is harder than ever before.
Then, out of nowhere. He grabbed my ass and sucked half of my length in.
“Holy sh-“ I yelped
He covered his left hand on my mouth and said hushly. “Jesus, fuck boy! Do you want everyone to hear? I mean it’s hot, but we’ll get kicked out.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just ohhhhhh.”
He sucked the entire length in as I got into his throat. It’s cold for a second with the air being sucked, then it warms up my dick as I get closer to the edge. And, wait, did I just moan out loud?
Didn’t give me a chance to breathe, he repeated the motion again and again.
I’m really close.
“Not yet fuck boy.” He said as he guided my hand to my pec.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Twist your nipples and do not stop until we’re done.”
Strange request, but it seemed like there was a lot I didn’t know, so I complied.
“I thought only women like this?” I asked as I squeezed my nipples.
He immediately got back to work as if telling me to shut the fuck up.
Then, I feel it.
It might be the cold air conditioning or the fact that I have my cock in someone’s fucking mouth, but my nipples perked up and got sensitive all of a sudden.
He starts to squeeze and rub my stomach as my senses overload.
Once in a while, he would come up with a remark or two.
“I bet you’re the kind of guy that likes to sit around, munch all day, let other people take charge and fuck you,” He said.
”I bet your bubble butt will grow twice as big by the end of the year because you hate the gym deep down,” He said.
It all doesn’t make sense. I only have five, ten tops of weight added, but my dick gets even harder.
“Come on, fuck boy. Twist those fat tits for me,” he said as the sucking picks up the pace.
“Fuck yeah, my fat tits.” It’s all too much for me to form a thought.
“Fuck my fat ass too.”
“Yeah, faster!”
He gave my slight belly a final squeeze as I cummed harder than I’d ever experienced.
I can feel my dick still shooting out cum as I blacked out.
Someone is wiping me.
Oh, right.
“Great, you’re up.” Random man said.
”Huh?”
“It got real messy, eh?” He continues.
“Sorry, I got carried away earlier. You’re just so hot.”
It seems like he’s not going to stop talking.
“You’re obviously still a jock, but hey. A man can dream,” he said
“You’ve got some real potential, kid.” He patted my apparently now-existing belly and said.
I don’t get it. I’ve been eating more than usual lately, and Theo’s snacks don't help, but mom got the ingredients from the farmers market, so they were definitely healthy. Maybe I am missing something else.
“Here,” he hands me a small piece of paper.
“Call me if you want to do this again.”
Then just like that, the strange man leaves.
I didn’t give a second glance at the piece of paper before throwing it in the trash can.
Against my better judgment, I put my hand back in the disgusting trash can.
No harm in keeping it.
The stranger’s words ring in my head as I put an undisclosed sum of money on margaritas.
Maybe I do like being taken care of.
***
My phone vibrated for the thousandth time today, almost causing an earthquake.
“Aggggah, leave me aloneeee. Help me baby Jesus.”
The alcohol from last night, plus the vibration is enough to kill a bear.
Opening the over-lit phone, I see Theo’s happy ginger face.
Theo: Hey Jay, could you help me buy a cookbook I want at the mall, asap?
Me: kys❤️
Mom: Jacob, could you explain the language?
Shit, it's the family chat!
Me: It means keeping yourself safe, mom. I'll go to the mall in a bit!
Theo, the little bastard, replied with a laughing emoji.
Brushing my teeth, I saw myself in the mirror.
Definitely can’t unsee it now. I still have some abs definitions, it’s just pushing out now.
I hesitated, looking at the protein ice cream sandwich mom prepared for me.
Well, I do need something to settle my stomach from the alcohol. Plus, protein is always healthy.
Grabbing a few more ice cream sandwiches, I made my way to the bus.
The mall is located in the middle of nowhere. Nobody comes here except for Costco. Apparently there’s a chain book store too.
Finding the book has been proven difficult. Half the store sells stationery, and the other half sells boring books nobody wants. There is no reason for the store to be this huge.
By the time Theo, the brat, had confirmed the book, it was already past two.
“Hello, excuse me. Is there no restaurant here whatsoever?” I asked the book nerd from the counter.
“Ahhhhh, there’s ahh fast food down the lane, to um, the right?”
“Alright, thanks.” Looks like I’m going to starve myself until I get back.
Going to the bus station, I pass the fast food place. They must have had a rebranding these couple of years. They used to smell like kids puke. Now… it smells like some sweet apple pie, fries, or chicken nuggets? Yeah, definitely some chicken nuggets. Haven’t had them in years.
No. I must not get carried away.
Dad said fast foods are not real food. Ever since he watched the Super Size Me documentary, he banned the whole family from eating fast food, and I thank him for it every day.
Today will be an exception. This will be my reward for going through everything that happened this week.
“So, we have a discount for everyone who uses our app. You can also get points for a free meal in the app.” The fat ass cashier asked.
“Yeah, why not. I could save a few.” Not like I’m going to use it after this.
My hands end up with a combo of fries, burger, nuggets and a medium soda.
While enjoying the smell of garbage goods, I catch a glimpse of an obese guy sitting in the corner.
He looks. Wait, it’s Avery Lancaster.
Holy shit it’s true. He did gain 70 pounds and some more. Looks like he’s in his 300s now.
The image of his fat ass hanging off the seat brought me back to reality.
I will not eat at this restaurant ever again after this meal, so I won’t end up like him.
Except for the fries. The fries are too good to pass.
For The rest of the semester, things went as well as they could.
Homework has been piling up, the professor still hates me, so I have less time to hit the gym.
Sports are enough for me so stay fit anyway. At least until next year’s spring season starts.
Coach has been supportive of my decision to bulk up. He just gave me an ominous warning about off-season athletes bulking too much.
When the Thanksgiving holiday came, I was ready to go on a diet.
After the holidays.
Because mom has seriously improved her skills, and, as much as I don’t wanna say it, Theo’s food is basically tailored made to my taste. They might just be.
I have a sneaking suspicion that they are using Dad and I as testing metrics for their little competitions. Just a suspicion. Because recently Theo started focusing on making food for me, Mom began to make food primarily for Dad.
The suspicious duo seem to have the belief that weight equals love. If that is the case, I am truly screwed. There is no one but dead people who can resist Theo’s cooking. I’ve even been brainwashed to think Theo’s food rants are interesting, that’s how powerful he is.
By the end of the Christmas dinner, I could tell that Theo had probably lost in their competition by the look on his face. I almost felt bad for not eating enough.
It's not like the food wasn’t good; my opponent is Dad. His appetite is unmatched. At the beginning of the year, he barely eats anything for breakfast while keeping his plant-based diet. Now he’s an absolute beast, he can inhale 15 pancakes at the speed of sound. Whatever I’ve gained this year, Dad probably has gained twice as much. He also grew out his beard and body hair which I struggle to do. There is literally no better definition of man than him.
After the Christmas dinner, I went up to assess the damage.
Twenty-two pounds of flabby fat gained this year.
Why don’t I at least look like Dad with a firm, rounded gut? Instead, mine grows around the underbelly, looking like a soft fanny pack.
I need to stop thinking about this. I’m still muscular after all. 215 is nothing compared to the guys on the team.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I have a thing for guys who look like you. Not really a jock anymore, but still attracts everyone.” His voice echoed in my head.
Deleting the notifications from the fast food app, I opened the phone and dialled the number for Random Guy number 7.
Chapter 2 ->
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I Love You, I’m Sorry
University AU
Pairing: Volleyball player!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Artist!F!Reader
angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, FWB to lovers, angst with a happy ending
WC: 9.7k
Synopsis: Falling in love with the pretty volleyball player in your first year of University wasn’t something you intended to happen; it just did. And then, two years later, the line between lust and love blurs. You want him beyond his body, but does he want every side of you? A part of you liked to think so, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is known for crushing hearts, and make no mistake, you were no exception.
Content/Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, FWB relationship, graphic descriptions of blood/knives/wounds/organs (nothing actually happens), subtle hints of depression/anxiety, jealousy, curse words, one scene with a creep but its vague, pls lmk if I missed anything!
two August’s ago, you fell in love.
you remember laughing till tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks, face hurting from smiling so much. you remember soft touches; on your hand as you reached for the same item, on your waist when you squeezed by, on the corner of your mouth when you don’t seem to notice the crumbs that coat your lips. you remember a gentle smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit as your heart stutters in your chest. you remember dark curly hair, mole kissed skin and eyes brimming with affection.
you remember everything.
bright, giddy, and curious, you entered university with dreams larger than the sun. your passion for art made you yearn. you wanted to draw everything beautiful. you’d sit by the tree near your campus library and draw for hours, music blaring through your headphones as you sketched pretty items, pretty scenery, and pretty people in your book.
it was under the tree you found your muse.
you recall forgetting to bring something to tie your hair with, leaving it to fall in your face when the the wind hit a little too hard. you squinted, frowning as you moved the strands out of your sight.
and then, as if entranced, you see the prettiest student walk towards the library. it’s like everything is suddenly moving slower. he’s clad in a- sports jacket? with your school logo, and black shorts to match. he has a gym bag hung on his right shoulder, but you find yourself more focused on the thick locks on his head and soft slope of his nose. his lips are full, pretty and pink. the slight chill from the air must be the reason why his cheeks are tinted as well, and your hands itch with the urge to draw this mythical being.
(first-year you was a little dramatic, but present you still understands her.)
you draw a rough sketch of him the moment he leaves, but you know had you had more time to look, you would’ve done a much better job.
✾
the second time you see him is at a party.
you had forgotten about the pretty boy as the days went on, more focused with school and handing in assignments. exams arrived, and then you were on break. your friends had begged you to show up, with promises of it being a fun experience even if all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers and sleep all day.
you end up wearing a cute outfit, somewhat revealing yet covering the parts you wanted to. your hair is styled with shiny clips that match your makeup. you feel pretty, and even though you initially did not want to go out, you think this might be a good idea.
“Y/n, let me know if you want to leave early, okay? And don’t drink anything random people offer you.” Kuroo grabs your arm, tone serious. you want to laugh at the usually silly guy being so protective of you.
you smile, “I know, father. No need to worry about me, it’s just my first party.”
Akaashi beside you ruffles your hair, “He has a reason to be worried, you’re a little too sweet for your own good.”
you scrunch up your nose, mentally disagreeing. you could certainly be mean. but they had yet to see you at your worst, so this made sense. you decide to let them keep this image of you.
Bokuto barrels forward, knocking into your back as you stumble into Kuroo’s arms. he catches you with ease, sending a glare towards his friend.
“Watch it, are you drunk already?”
Bokuto grins, “Pre-gamed a little too hard! My bad, bro.” he pauses, looking at you, “And the lady-bro.”
you stifle a giggle at his words, focusing on the warmth that emits from Kuroo. you suddenly regret wearing something that showed more skin, knowing you got cold easily.
“Tetsu, can we get drinks?” you grab his bicep gently as he looks down.
“Yeah, yeah. Let me just say hi to some of the guys and we’ll go.” he waits for Akaashi to come to your other side before walking, with you squashed between them.
you roll your eyes, what was up with them? it was your first time attending a university party, not your first time at a club.
you greet people mindlessly, and they all seem nice enough. you get restless after twenty minutes though, really wanting a drink. you tug Kuroo’s shirt gently, waiting for him to turn to you.
“I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?”
he frowns, “I’ll come, give me a sec.” he doesn’t wait for a response before excusing himself from his friends. they all wave him off as he guides you to another room in the house, which is more secluded.
you find the table, filled with all sorts of stuff you were unfamiliar with. one of Kuroo’s friends stands by, and you assume he’s keeping an eye on the beverages to ensure nobody spikes them with anything.
Kuroo gives him a quick nod before reaching for a bottle. he must know what he’s doing, however, as he pours you a mixture of two drinks before handing it to you. you take it with narrowed eyes, lifting it to your nose and oh, it smells fruity enough.
you down it in one go, looking back at Kuroo’s slackened jaw. you bark out a loud laugh, before covering it with your hand. “What?”
he shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing. Didn’t know you were so thirsty.”
you shrug in response, mindlessly scanning the room as Kuroo pours himself a drink.
despite the room being half empty, it is still fairly large. you can see a group playing beer pong on the left side, while the ones on the right are laughing loudly as they seemingly discuss something funny.
and then, your eyes land on him.
he’s standing with who you assume is his friend, with their back towards you. he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and the position allows his navy blue shirt to stretch with the muscle. you swallow when your eyes trail down to his slim waist.
broad shoulders and a small waist? surely that had to be illegal.
his black pants are loose, but fit his thighs nicely.
when your eyes go back to his face, you’re once again filled with the urge to pick up your pencil and draw. he’s not smiling, and you have a feeling he doesn’t smile very often, but it doesn’t take away from his beauty. his cheekbones are pretty and prominent, and you wonder how they would feel beneath your palms.
you bite on your bottom lip at the thought, feeling foolish for thinking about a stranger like that.
“Oh? Does my little Y/n have a crush?” a voice croons next to your ear.
you whip your head back with a glare, “Tetsu, no.”
he laughs loudly, head throwing back as he cackles. you frown, scrunching your nose at him even if he’s too busy laughing to see.
“Oh, c’mon cutie, I’m just teasing. Nothing wrong with a little crush, I would just recommend someone a little… nicer.” he says, out of breath as a grin stretches on his face.
you tilt your head, “Huh? You know him?“
Kuroo ruffles your hair gently, with you moving to fix it immediately.
“We aren’t close, but I do know him since he’s on the same team as me,” Kuroo smiles at the wide eyed look you give him. “i’d say i’m closer with his friend over there.”
when you glance back to the pair, you find that the pretty boy has his eyes on you.
your heart jumps, your body shivering as you snap your eyes back to Kuroo.
what the fuck? maybe you hallucinated that.
“Oh, your man is looking here.”
maybe not.
“Hey, want me to introduce you? Who knows, you might be able to defrost his heart.” he smirks, with you shaking your head to disagree. “No, thank you. I’m not going to defrost his heart like he’s some piece of frozen raw meat.”
he huffs out a laugh, turning into a cough when his eyes partially widen. “Well, you should prepare yourself, they’re both coming here right now.”
you look at Kuroo with an incredulous expression, “You’re fucking lying.”
“Such a foul mouth, cutie.” he lifts his hand up and looks beside you, “Hey, man.” he waves. he nods at the pretty boy next, who you assume nods back.
you finally allow yourself to look away from Kuroo and at the two new men in front of you. they’re both tall, but thankfully you’re used to being surrounded by tall men due to your friends.
you smile at the friend and glance at the pretty boy for a second, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” you’re thankful you manage to sound stable.
“I’m Adriah.” his friend says with a half grin. it’s boyish and charming, but you’re more concerned with the curly-haired guy beside him. your eyes dart to his next, anticipating an introduction.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
his voice is deep, it’s almost alluring. it reminds you of the dark chocolate you often pick up from the convenience store beside your dorm; bitter but comforting.
you always loved dark chocolate.
the thought makes your heart do a funny thing and your chest seize up.
✾
a year and a half later, you kiss Sakusa Kiyoomi for the first time.
you’re close friends by now, perhaps even best friends. you know him like the back of your hand; no, you know better than you know yourself.
you know his arms are covered in beauty marks, ones you’d like to trace with your lips. you know how his hair looks when he first awakens, eyes swollen and lips puffed out in a pout. you know his favorite food, and how he likes his coffee in the morning. you know he sighs through his nose when he’s feeling overstimulated, you know his lips press together when he’s about to say something mean. you know he crosses his arms when he feels like he needs to protect himself, you even know the brand of disinfecting wipes he prefers to buy.
you know he has a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles, you know how his lips stretch out all pretty when he’s caught off guard. you know the low timbre in his chest when he laughs, his thick steel walls suddenly nowhere to be seen as he allows himself to relax.
“Kiyo, please? I really want to go, and nobody else wants to come!” you beg, voice sad as you sit on the edge of his bed.
it’s 12:00PM, and Kiyoomi is still laying in bed. you understand, it is a Saturday, but you wanted to go out and visit the cat cafe with supposedly amazing tiramisu.
the lump on the bed barley moves, “Oh great, so I’m your last choice. I’ll pass.”
you smile, giggling. “No, you were my first choice, but you said no so I asked other people and they also refused, so now I came back to you!”
he lifts the covers, sitting up. he’s shirtless, and the sight of his bare body covered in pretty beauty marks makes your brain short-circuit. you turn away, huffing. “Put on a shirt you… perv.”
you hear a pretty laugh then, your head immediately turning back to catch the rare sight. he shakes his head, small grin still on his face, “I’m the perv? Not the one who’s red in the face and can’t even look me in the eye?”
you blink harshly, “I can look at you! I’m just… respecting your boundaries.”
you turn away again, crossing your arms. you hear the covers on the bed shuffle, and when you slowly turn around, you find yourself much closer to Kiyoomi than you thought.
you blink, moving to give him space and tumbling off the bed in the process with a yelp. he grabs you with wide eyes, moving so he takes the brunt of the fall.
you land on top of him, watching as he groans in pain below you. your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, and they feel smooth beneath your hands.
he sighs, laying his head on the floor. he looks up at you through lidded eyes. “So what now, genius? You made us fall.”
you shoot him a dirty look, “Well nobody told you to fall with me.”
“This is the ‘thank you’ I get? Next time I’ll let you get hurt, brat.” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.
you pout, bottom lip pushing out. “You’d let me fall and get hurt?”
he stares at you intently, not answering. you take the time to observe his face, wanting to burn the memory into your brain. you like the small bump on his nose. you like the way his bottom lip is slightly bigger than the top. you like the way his skin turns red easily, his cheeks often sporting a pretty blush even from the slightest chilly air. you like his thick curly hair, wondering how it would feel in your hands. you like his eyes too, dark and swirling with emotions you’ve yet to unravel and discover.
suddenly realizing your proximity, your eyes dart to his lips. plush and full, they look so inviting. you subconsciously lick your bottom lip, glancing up to find his eyes are also on your mouth. and when he finally looks you in the eye, you know if you don’t make a move now, you never will.
you lean in, slowly, and with a gentle exhale, you press your lips to his.
✾
a month later, you have sex with Kiyoomi.
it comes naturally, you think. soft kisses shared with hushed whispers were no longer enough. it led to heated touches and lust-filled eyes.
so when the two of you end up going further, you have no complaints.
he treats you exactly how you’d like, gentle in some ways and rough in others. you like the feel of his calloused hands caressing your skin, the rough bumps making him more attractive than you already thought he was.
and then you’re laying in bed, sweaty and covered in fluid. but his mattress is so comfortable, and your eyelids feel heavy.
“Y/n, we need to shower.”
“One minute.” you mumble quietly.
you feel a hand gently move hair out of your face, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. it’s gone before you can speak, and you have to force the whine down your throat.
you hear a sigh, and then feel a strong arm slide underneath your knees with the other behind your back as you are lifted into the air.
you squeak, hands scrambling to latch onto his neck. you look up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes, “Seriously, Kiyo? I can still walk, you jackass.”
he shakes his head with a small grin, and your hands itch to grab his face and kiss him senseless. “Are you sure you can walk? I’m not sure you can after all that.”
you change your mind, you want to slap him senseless.
“Ha-ha. So. Funny.” you deadpan, unable to help yourself and breaking into a smile when you feel his shoulders shake as he chuckles.
when the two of you are in bed, freshly washed and ready to sleep, Kiyoomi breaks your heart for the first time.
you’re laying your head on his chest, heartbeat steady and comforting as it almost lulls you to sleep.
his voice pulls you back, “Y/n,”
you hum in response.
“I don’t want you to misunderstand, I care about you, but I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” the words are spoken softly, but they cut through your heart nonetheless.
your body freezes, and you have to force yourself to relax when you realize he can feel it.
so what if Kiyoomi isn’t ready to date? you’re okay with kissing him, going out with him, and sleeping with him. you’re okay with that and not having a label. you’re okay with not being exclusive.
you’re okay with having him to this extent.
you’re okay.
“I understand. Don’t worry, Kiyoomi.”
✾
five months later, everything is the same.
and yet, nothing is the same.
“I don’t like this, Y/n. I think you should break things off with him.” Kuroo frowns, leaning into Akaashi’s side as he hogs the blanket to himself in the freezing cold apartment.
you pull your own fluffy throw closer, “There’s nothing to break off, Tetsu. There’s no label.”
Bokuto walks in, clad in a black tank top and volleyball shorts. “You can break off this unlabeled arrangement you have, Y/n! Just call it exactly that!” he smiles, hands on his hips standing proudly.
Akaashi coughs, “Bo, please put your air conditioning lower. We’re all going to get sick at this rate.”
Bokuto frowns, hands dropping to his sides. he walks to the thermostat, “Seriously? I think the temperature is fine.”
“That’s because you’re not human, you beast.” Kuroo snorts.
Bokuto turns around, looking scandalized. “I’m not a beast! You two are just weenies!”
you giggle, “Thank you for not including me with them, Kou.”
he salutes you with a cute little grin.
so maybe your friends were against your… situation with Kiyoomi. but you knew what you were doing, and while he might not want a relationship right now, you’re sure you can change his mind over time.
naive, perhaps, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart.
✾
everything comes to a head at one of their volleyball games.
you’re invited, of course. being friends with a few of the boys had allowed you to show up earlier and get seats in the front row.
it’s not your first game, but you’re excited nonetheless.
until you see Kiyoomi with someone unfamiliar.
she’s pretty, almost unearthly pretty. her hair is long, and cascades down her back like those magical waterfalls one would find deep in the forest. her smile is perfect, not crooked in the slightest. and when she greets him, her dainty hand smoothes over the skin of his arm; you walk faster.
Kuroo greets you first, with Akaashi and Bokuto coming behind him. you give them all your best wishes, but you can’t stop the uneasy feeling in your stomach at the sight of Sakusa with that girl.
when Akaashi sees your line of sight, he grimaces sympathetically. “Ah, that’s one of his friends from high school.”
your eyes shoot to his, and you wonder what expression you’re showing, because he comes closer and wraps you in a hug. you release a breath at the touch, letting yourself relax as he pats your back.
when you go to greet Sakusa, the girl is still there.
she’s sticking to him like a leech.
you try to get rid of the rude thoughts as you approach. she didn’t deserve your jealousy, nobody did. because you did this to yourself.
“Hi, Kiyo.” you smile.
he smiles back at you, and though it is small, it’s there. something in you settles when you think about how far the two of you have gotten.
the girl beside him is looking at the two of you curiously, but all you do is give her an awkward grin and turn back to Kiyoomi.
“Um, I just wanted to say good luck. I have a surprise for you, i’ll give it to you after the game.”
he raises a brow, intrigued. “You can’t give it to me now?”
you huff out a laugh. “No, silly. It’s a reward for you playing today. I know you’ll do well regardless of the outcome.”
his face smoothes out as he nods, “Okay, I’ll be waiting then.”
without another word you wave and turn around, walking to the seats and taking one in the front. you feel odd being the first to leave, but it was clear that the girl was not going to her seat until the game started. and while you’d like to talk to Kiyoomi more, you know you have to control yourself before you do something stupid like show him your jealousy.
the game goes by quickly, with your university winning the match. you cheer loudly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. it’s times like these that you truly cherish the joy in life. even though you hadn’t played in the game yourself, you can practically feel the positive energy radiating off of the players, and it fills you with excitement.
you run down and across the court, moving to hug your friends as you congratulate them.
“Y/n are you going to come with us to get dinner? Please say yes!” Bokuto widens his eyes, bottom lip curling into a pout.
you smile, happy to be included but knowing you have to decline. “Sorry, Kou. I already have plans with Kiyoomi. Can we raincheck?”
he nods sadly, and Akaashi pats him on the back in consolation.
“Have fun at dinner! I’m going to find Kiyoomi.” you wait till they exit the gymnasium before turning around and looking for the tall dark-haired man you were enamored with.
you can’t seem to find him through the crowd and the thought has you frowning anxiously. you stumble inside the group of people, breathing out when you finally see the end of the mob. with another exhale, you look up.
you see red.
because there is Kiyoomi, with the small pretty girl in his arms as she wraps her own around his neck. their faces lean in together, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume they were about to kiss.
without even knowing what you’re doing, you march right up and grab his arm, tugging him into you with as much force as you can muster.
he looks down at you with wide eyes, and even though his hair is damp with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his skin, you find him to be the prettiest in the room.
suddenly realizing how this looked, you let go of his arm and step back. “What were you two doing?” you ask, voice soft yet loud enough for him to hear. the crowd has begun to disperse, leaving only the team and their friends in the gymnasium.
the girl looks awkward, glancing between you and Kiyoomi before taking a step back. “Uh, I’m gonna get going now. I’ll text you later, ‘Omi.”
your eye twitches at the nickname, and when Kiyoomi simply nods at her, you feel like you’re losing your mind.
he says nothing to you as he moves to pack his things, stuffing his towel in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even glance at you as he walks out, with you trailing after him like a lost puppy.
the walk to his apartment is short, but because of the silence it feels much longer; much more painful, like every step is with your bare foot onto glass.
when you finally arrive at his place, he shuts the door and tosses his gym bag to the side before turning to you.
“Want to explain what that was?” his face is cold, and the uncaring way he speaks to you makes you nervous.
you swallow, “Shouldn’t you explain? Why were her arms… Why did it look like you two were dating, or something? Why did you let her touch you like that?”
he chuckles, though it has none of the sweetness that it is normally laced with. “Why the fuck does it matter? You’re not my girlfriend.”
surprisingly, the words don’t hurt as much as you thought they would. no, you knew that already. what really makes your skin burn is the way he looks at you.
you feel dread creep up on you, goosebumps arising on your skin as you shiver. the look in his eyes is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the normally fond gaze you are granted with.
maybe that’s why it twists the metaphorical knife that is lodged in your stomach, scarlet blood seeping out as the squelch rings in your ears. it feels far too real, you can almost see him holding the knife as it digs deeper into your flesh.
“I never liked that about you.”
it's vague, but you feel like you understand what he means regardless. you ask him to clarify despite yourself. “Never liked what?” you whisper. your hands are shaking; you hold them behind your back to conceal it.
“The way you act around me. Like we’re in a loving relationship when really, we’re just friends who sleep together sometimes.” the words spoken are firm, leaving no room for you to even question whether he means them or not.
“I’m sorry?” you sound breathless, asking him to confirm what he had already said.
his eyes darken further, and you swallow harshly at the sight.
“You need me to say more to get it through your thick skull?” he scoffs, furious, and the sound cuts into your already wounded heart.
“I don’t like the way you coddle me. I don’t appreciate when you give me your opinions on things you know nothing about.” he pauses. you wait with bated breath, wondering how much more your heart could take.
“And, god, I really fucking hate when you show up at my games and smother me in front of everyone. It’s uncomfortable, and then you put me on the spot and act like you’re my fucking girlfriend.”
it feels like someone has plunged their hand through your chest, tearing you apart as they grasp onto your beating heart; you can almost picture it, the way the mangled organ thumps erratically as crimson liquid seeps out between their fingers.
you inhale shakily, “I just… I love you, I’m sorry.”
you look up, to see who’s holding your heart hostage.
“I don’t love you. I never have, and I never will.”
it’s him.
and fuck, it’s always him.
✾
two summers from now, Sakusa knows he’ll be playing volleyball professionally, for the first time.
he’ll have finished his fourth year of university, and he will be happy.
happiness.
Sakusa doesn’t exactly understand the emotion. sure, he’s felt anxiety, rage, and satisfaction, but happiness? what did that even entail?
he sits silently, trying to drone out the professors talks of another essay, and suddenly regrets taking a psychology class. because the amount of writing it required was a bit too much, even for him.
and then his thoughts go back to happiness.
oftentimes, Sakusa is told he looks mean; grouchy. and yet, he remembers an old conversation with Atsumu.
“So… you and Y/n?” Atsumu drawled.
Sakusa sighs, moving to pack up his things in the locker room. “It’s not like that, don’t go spreading anything.”
the blond raises his hands in mock surrender, wet hair sticking to his forehead. “Hey! I would never!”
and then he grins, though not as obnoxious as usual. it’s more kind, if anything, and Sakusa doesn’t know what to make of it.
“I’m just saying, ya seem a lot less grumpy these days. Happier.”
Sakusa pauses, staring at the chipped paint on the wall.
Atsumu sighs, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he moves to exit. “She’s good for ya, ‘Omi.” he pats his shoulder twice on his way out. “Don’t fuck it up, man.”
Sakusa stiffens; not at the action, but at his words. he quickly places everything in his bag before zipping it up and heading home.
if he’s a bit dazed at practice the next day, no one says anything.
when Sakusa lays in bed, he recounts the last time he spoke to you.
it’s been two weeks, and even though time has passed, it feels like just yesterday you were standing in his kitchen with your heart on your sleeve, letting him use it however he wished.
he remembers feeling furious at you, for so obviously disrespecting one of his good high school friends. and then you hadn’t even apologized, you’d instead pushed at him even more.
and then… he ruined everything.
he remembers the look on your face, the pure heartbreak in your irises as he carelessly spewed words he knew would hurt you.
it was not surprising when he walked into practice two days later to see glares of contempt by some of his teammates, who he knew were your friends. even Atsumu had looked at him and shook his head, and some part of him burned with shame. his mistakes were on display for everyone to see, and although he wanted to pull his walls even higher, he felt too distraught at the potential loss of you to bother.
he remembers laying in bed that night, finally deciding to break the silence between the two of you. but with a simple, ‘I’m sorry. Can we talk?’ he was able to find out that he was blocked.
he felt ice run through his veins, pausing at the vibrant red letters, spelling Not Delivered. he quickly opened Instagram and Twitter and found you had him removed and blocked there as well.
fuck.
he had really done it now, hadn’t he? he so naively believed that you simply needed space, and once he gave you a sincere apology the two of you could go back to the way things were; that you two could explore whatever non-platonic feelings he was beginning to develop for you.
but once he realizes the gravity of the situation, he wonders what the point is of experiencing love for the first time if it ends here.
it can’t end here.
he makes it his mission to try to meet you.
first he showed up to your Thursday class, knowing it ended at noon and you had a two-hour gap between your next one. he has a coffee in one hand and a freshly baked donut in the other. he drove across town to grab it, knowing it was your favourite. he knows a mere donut cannot make up for what he said to you, but it felt wrong coming empty handed to reconcile with you. not when you deserved everything and more.
except when you see him, you immediately turn and walk in the opposite direction.
the action stings, and he sighs once you are out of view. the bag with the donut in his hand feels heavy, his hand tingling with the rejection. he knew you wouldn’t forgive him so easily, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
I deserve this, he acknowledges.
I deserve this and worse.
it’s the next week when he has the chance to see you again; he knows you’re working, often meeting you at the cafe to pick you up and take you to his place home.
so with a deep breath, he walks in. the door bell chimes loudly, and he curses mentally when he realizes how deserted the place is at the moment. there’s only a few people inside; a man sitting in the corner as he types furiously on his laptop. a woman and two others sitting on the side as they sip on what he assumes is coffee or tea.
and then he looks to the front, where you stand, and your eyes are on him.
the moment he takes a step forward, you stumble back, as if burned. he stops, unsure if he should keep walking or simply say something as he stands ten feet away from you.
unfortunately for him, you seem to come back to reality and swiftly open the door where it explicitly states STAFF. a moment later, one of your coworkers walks out with their customer service smile, and he deflates.
third time’s a charm, he says to comfort himself. but even he knows it won’t be that easy.
it’s friday, and even though he had no idea if you’d be home, he figured it was worth a shot. so that’s how he finds himself at your door, with a bouquet of white Tulips in his arms.
“Hi! Is there anything I can help you with?”
he jumps slightly when he hears a high-pitched voice coming from behind him, turning around and smoothing out his face.
“I’m not sure.” he states quietly.
“That’s okay! Is there anything in specific you’re looking for? A colour, or a meaning, perhaps?”
he frowns; it feels like all he’s been doing is frowning lately. “Uh, maybe something bright? Or… something that symbolizes forgiveness?”
she smiles sympathetically, and he wonders what expression he must be showing to warrant such a response from a stranger.
and that’s how he finds himself here. he shuffles on his feet, clutching the flowers to his chest protectively. with a soft inhale, he raises his fist and knocks.
silence.
he rings the doorbell this time, and still nothing.
he exhales quietly, his head dropping as he stares at the old carpet that covered the hallways in your apartment building. he’s been here so many times with you, but now he sees nothing but the back of your door and he has nobody but himself to blame.
he stands in front of your place for an hour, mindlessly staring at the wall as he recalls his words to you. how you’d handed your heart to him with your bare hands, only for him to treat it as though it meant nothing to him.
so on Sunday, he lays in bed and recounts the last two weeks.
he wants to wallow in self-pity, but then he hears banging on his door and wonders which unlucky soul will encounter his wrath.
he swings the door open, face emotionless and mouth ready to open and hurl insults at the other, until he sees his one and only cousin, Komori.
“Hey man!” his cousin smiles, innocent and happy.
Sakusa hates it.
his shoulders slump as all anger vanishes, exhaustion left in its wake. “What are you doing here, Moyota,”
he walks back to his room as Komori closes the door. “because if you can’t tell, i’m busy.”
Komori snorts, “Busy doing what? Moping?”
Sakusa glares at him, but in his disheveled state he merely looks like a feral wounded puppy. he crawls back under his covers, face smushed inside his pillow as he feels the other side of the bed dip.
“Get your outside clothes off my bed, Moyota.”
he hears a huff before the pressure is gone, and wills himself to sleep.
“Listen, I know you’re upset about what happened with Y/n, but sitting in your sadness won’t get you anywhere.”
Sakusa continues to lay there. “Mhm.”
Komori ignores the dry response, “There’s a party on Friday. You should go.”
“Why should I go to a party? You want me to drink my sorrows away?” his voice comes out muffled but he’s sure Komori can hear him regardless.
“Y/n will be there.”
that gets his attention. he sits up, the covers pooling at his waist as he crosses his arms. “How do you know?” his eyes narrow.
Komori rolls his eyes, “Because, I overheard Kuroo asking her to come on the phone. Something about him finding her someone new to replace you.”
he clenches his fists, feeling the burn of jealousy take over. replace him? he knew you were well-liked in your program, often waving at people whenever the two of you walked together on campus. he was not ignorant of the stares you’d get from fellow students. but it didn’t matter then because he knew his eyes were on you, and yours were on him.
but now everything’s different.
now, your eyes are not solely on him. the thought has his chest hurting in a way that he can only describe as a stabbing pain.
“I’ll go.”
✾
the week passes by too slow for Sakusa, but he knows it’s only because he’s missing you. when friday arrives, he’s feeling somewhat optimistic about meeting you and hopefully reconciling.
he scrunches the products in his hair, freshly washed from the shower. he’s wearing black slacks and a matching button-up. he places a few rings on his hands and moves to dry his hair with a cotton t-shirt once more before exiting his room.
“About time, dude. Why is your hair routine so complicated?” his cousin complains from his place on the couch, looking at him expectantly.
Sakusa grabs his keys on the counter, “My hair isn’t pin-straight, that’s why. Why are you still sitting down, let’s go.”
Komori rises with a shake of his head as he walks to the front door and slips on his shoes. Sakusa waits for him to leave before locking the door and following him to his car.
the drive seems unreasonably fast, and his palms feel sweaty as he wipes them on his pants. he’s suddenly thankful he chose to wear black bottoms.
when he walks inside the house, he’s immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. it’s absolutely disgusting, and he has to remind himself why he’s there as he takes another step forward.
“Let’s go to the back! It’ll be less busy there!” Komori raises his voice, but Sakusa can just barely hear his words. he nods and follows his cousin to another room, breathing out in relief when he notices there are fewer people.
Sakusa subtly shuffles towards an empty corner, knowing Komori is following him. he turns around, leaning on the wall, “These people are revolting. When is Y/n getting here?”
Komori scratches his head, tapping at his phone with one hand. “Not sure, let me check with my friends. I’ll ask where Kuroo is.”
he scowls, “Why would that matter?”
“Because he wouldn’t leave her alone at a party.” Komori shrugs. “They’re real close.”
something in his chest feels tight at his cousins words. you and Sakusa were once close; and if you forgave him, he’d let you be even closer. he just has to apologize and hopefully smooth everything over.
a part of him itches to go and search for you himself. he feels on edge, knowing you are so close yet so far away. it unsettles him, the thought that if you don’t forgive him he’ll have to watch you from afar, and accept that someone will love and care for you all the ways he didn’t.
but - does he love you? he cares for you, immensely at that. but does he love you?
he thinks about your pretty eyes, always filled with affection. he thinks about your ability to make people feel comfortable around you within minutes. he thinks about your small hands, your shy smile, the feeling of your hair when he twirls a lock around his finger as you lay in his bed. he thinks about how you look with the sun seeping through the crack in the curtains, skin glowing and lips slightly parted as you exhale softly.
his heart beat echos in his ears. he feels a flush take over his face and places the back of his hand on his forehead. he suddenly feels hot.
maybe he has a fever? but so suddenly? he swallows, the sound echoing in his head.
and then he finally sees you, drink in hand as you throw your head back and laugh.
his heart beats loudly in his chest.
he places a hand above it, feeling the erratic thumps beneath his palm.
ah.
so he loves you.
-
Sakusa waits.
he waits in the corner, a drink in his hand, courtesy of Komori as he subtly stares at you from across the room.
it’s been about an hour, and you’ve yet to notice him. he cherishes the time, observing you from afar. he watches you giggle and wrap your arms around your friends, the gaping hole you’d left in his heart the moment you walked out of his life grows by the minute.
he’s contemplating what to do when you finally lock eyes with him.
he watches the smile slowly slip off your face, something akin to agony colouring your eyes.
he begins to walk towards you, not breaking eye contact for a second. it's like he's entranced. and when he’s right in front of you, he feels breathless; like your existence has left him at a loss for words.
“Hey.”
his voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat when your lips tug downwards.
your friends are looking at him with distaste, even Bokuto who normally sports a happy grin seems fairly upset. it makes him realize what a huge fuck-up he is.
he shifts on his feet, “Can we talk?”
Kuroo answers for you. “No, you can’t. You’ve said enough to her.” he steps in front of you, shoulders pushed back.
Sakusa feels irritation bubble in his chest, but pushes it down, knowing that Kuroo has a reason to be protective over you.
“I just want to apologize. And, confess something.” his voice comes out more desperate than he thought it would. it sounds fragile, even to his own ears.
Kuroo deflates, if only slightly. “It’s still a no. Find someone else to mess around with.”
“I'm not messing around. I just, I need to talk to her. Please.” the cup in his hand is beginning to bend, the cheap plastic cracking as the drink sloshes around.
Kuroo opens his mouth to what he assumes refuse him again, until a small hand grabs onto his arm and steps in front of him.
he watches as you let go of Kuroo, looking more composed than you had been before.
“It’s okay, Tetsu. I can handle this.” your voice makes his skin tingle. he realizes how much he’s missed it.
Sakusa’s shoulders drop in relief. he feels so happy that you decided to talk to him, he doesn’t even care that your friends are glaring him down.
“But-”
you cut Kuroo off, “Really, it’s fine. I’ll text you if I need anything.”
Kuroo looks like he wants to argue, but you give him a look that has him backing down.
he huffs, “Fine. Just be careful. Call me if he does anything.”
Sakusa stops himself from scoffing, annoyed with Kuroo’s words. what would he do at this point? what could he possibly do to make things worse than they already are?
you pat Kuroo on the arm and walk past Sakusa, turning back. “Let’s go.” you don’t wait for a response before continuing, and he follows you without a glance at your friends.
he tries to control his breathing, attempting to keep it steady as you enter the backyard. it’s empty, the chilly night air keeping everyone inside.
you turn around, crossing your arms. “So? You wanted to talk?”
he licks his lips, rubbing his forearm with his hand. he’s thankful that he threw his drink out at the garbage can near the back door. he can feel his hands shaking, and hopes you don’t notice.
“Yeah.” he exhales, “How have you been?”
you shrug, expression guarded. “Fine.”
he nods, expecting the dry answer but still feeling a bit dejected.
“I miss you.”
the words come out so abruptly. the two of you stare at each other in shock, and he almost raises a hand to cover his mouth.
god, why did he just say that?
you laugh, but it comes out less genuine than he’s ever seen. “You should be happy you don’t have someone pretending to be your girlfriend, right?”
his face drops, and he knows whatever expression he’s showing is not as stoic as he thought. because with one glance at his face you look like you almost regret your words.
“I was.. I was so fucking stupid that night. I know you have no obligation to forgive me, but please let me apologize.”
you stare at him silently, before nodding.
Sakusa breathes out, “I’m sorry. Nothing I said was true. I was just… angry. Not at you, at myself. I had been denying how I felt for so long and when you asked me who that girl was, I just lost it.”
he stares at the grass rather than your face, not wanting to know if you look at him with an unforgiving gaze. “I realized that I had unintentionally entered a sort of- relationship with you. I was scared. I still am.”
he lifts his gaze finding your wide eyes. “It was an unintentional relationship, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”
he pauses, “Of course, except when I ruined everything. I’ve stayed up every night since it happened thinking about how I could have responded differently.” his lips tug up, the expression bitter.
“Because it was after that I realized my feelings for you.”
your brows furrow, your eyes darting around his face in pure confusion. “What are you saying, Sakusa?”
he ignores the ache of you using his last name, “That I have feelings for you.”
the silence is deafening as crickets chirp in the silent night.
“I love you, Y/n.”
you stagger back, as if wounded. you shake your head, “No, no. You don’t love me, Sakusa.”
he doesn’t understand your response. sure, you wouldn’t be elated. he knew you were still upset. but you look like you genuinely don’t believe him, like you refuse to believe him. he feels like he’s going to collapse if you walk away without acknowledging his feelings.
“What? I’m serious, Y/n. I love you.” he reaches a hand out, drawing back when you flinch.
“I’m in love with you.” he whispers.
you look at him, as though he has caused you immense pain, before turning away and running back into the house.
Sakusa stands there, alone in the dark.
he wonders if love is supposed to be so painful; if he will always be the one to inflict the pain, cause the heartache, and leave everything in ruins.
✾
"Shit." you curse as you stare at the empty fridge in front of you. an old bar of havarti cheese and two stale apples stare mockingly at you.
so perhaps you haven't gone grocery shopping in quite a while, but you've been busy! with assignments, your friends, and... Sakusa, you have had too much on your head to worry about things like restocking your fridge.
but now it's nearly midnight, and you have yet to eat dinner. your stomach rumbles at you, and you press a hand to it in annoyance.
you can skip a meal, it's not the end of the world.
but then your stomach rumbles again, and it's starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.
you check your phone, just to see if you can order in. but with one glance at the delivery price, you click your phone off. you stare at the sad-looking apples and cheese once more, making up your mind.
the convenience store is about a ten-minute walk, five if you run.
without another thought, you grab a hoodie from the coat rack and put it on. you pick up your apartment keys and slip into your shoes, bracing yourself for the cold air.
the walk ends up being somewhat soothing, the normally lively city is quieter. you use the time to think about your relationship - or lack thereof, with Sakusa. you still remember when he professed his love for you two weeks ago.
you remember rushing back into the party and telling your friends you had to leave. Kuroo drove you home, and you spent the night eating leftover icecream and binging Jujutsu Kaisen.
why couldn't you date someone like Gojo?
but then you think someone calmer, more steady would suit your personality well. someone who you could rely on and with a bit of sarcasm perhaps. someone who has dark hair; you always liked curly hair on men.
someone like him.
Sakusa Kiyoomi.
your thoughts are cut off when you finally get to the store. the lights are bright underneath the dark sky, the bell chiming when you open the door. you quickly grab a few rice balls, and walk to the cashier. it takes you a total of three minutes to get what you want, before you're walking back out with a plastic bag in hand.
you look up as you walk, the stars twinkling prettily. they remind you of his eyes.
you really wish you could stop thinking about him.
Sakusa makes you feel like you've caught a never-ending sickness. like you will wake up each day with your chest in pain, with your eyes swollen from crying paired with your unstable emotions.
its exhausting, you think; caring about people to a point where they cannot understand or reciprocrate your feelings. and then you always end up like this. alone. you wonder how long it will take for the other people you cherish to leave you too.
your thoughts come to a halt when you hear footsteps behind you.
its dark outside, the streetlights only providing a dim yellow glow as you walk. when you turn your head, you notice a man in a hood. your heart immediately plummets.
fuck, what had you been thinking? you should have ordered delivery, screw the price! the money wasn't worth your life.
you walk faster, noticing the person speeding up their steps. your breathing is becoming heavier, and you can feel your legs trembling as you continue to walk. you know you can't go home, otherwise he will know where you live.
you make a detour to head to a park you've been to many times. it was about a five-minute walk from your place, and the thought has you walking faster anxiously.
when you hear his footsteps draw closer, you turn your head and see he is much closer than before.
your breath hitches, and you find yourself tearing up in fear.
you are about to resort to an offensive stance, prepared to swing your bag of riceballs at his head when you bump into something.
you gasp loudly, flinching so harshly at the suddenness of the situation. you look up, finding familiar dark eyes. they look at you with bewilderment, but all you can think about is the pure relief that pools in your stomach, the tears building up in your eyes finally falling.
you rush forward and wrap your arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent. your shoulders are trembling, but they calm slightly when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and the other smooth over your upper back.
he looks over your shoulder, and you are unsure what expression he is showing. "Did you need something?" his voice comes out deep and - angry. you wonder if you are hallucinating the protectiveness that coats his tone. his arms tighten around you further, causing you to relax in his embrace.
you wait, body stuck to his. you hear footsteps retreating, and breathe out shakily.
"He's gone." he says, voice low.
you nod, but you stay in your position for a few minutes, content to bury yourself in his embrace after such a terrifying situation.
"Kiyoomi?" you look up, placing your hands on his chest.
he tilts his head downwards, "Are you okay? He didn't do anything, did he?" his brows are furrowed, lips pursed. he looks extremely concerned, and you feel surprised that he seems to care about you so much.
you shake your head slowly, "No, he didn't do anything. I'm - i'm fine." you lick your lips, trying to convince yourself to believe your own words.
Sakusa doesn't answer you, but he does turn his head and glance back before looking down at you. "I'll walk you home. Are you okay to walk? I can carry you."
you don't have much energy left, but you manage to laugh anyway. "I can walk, thank you."
you gently push at his chest, even though you want to continue to stay in his arms. you don't have that privilege any longer, and you shouldn't have assumed you had it in the first place.
you nod, however, and accept his offer to walk you home. you'll let yourself be selfish just this once, and then you'll let him go.
the walk back is silent, but Sakusa sticks close to you. you feel safe with him next to you, regardless of the fact that he hurt you so deeply.
he seems to protect you from others, but never from himself and his words. you sigh tiredly at the thought.
when you get to your apartment, he insists on walking you up. once at your door, you look at him and shuffle on your feet awkwardly.
"Uh, thanks for helping me back there and walking me home. I'll go inside now." you reach for your doorknob but he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. his head dips down, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.
"Please, just talk to me. I can't handle this." his voice makes you shiver, and you curse your body for reacting that way to him.
you lick your lips, "Can't handle what?"
he opens his eyes, tilting his head further down to catch your gaze. "You being mad at me. You ignoring me. Please, tell me what I need to do to fix this."
the two of you are standing so close, your cheeks heat up at the proximity. he still makes you so nervous after two years of knowing him, and the thought has you annoyed with your weak heart.
a shaky breath escapes your lips. "I don't know. You really hurt me, Sakusa."
he looks at you, face pained. like you being upset is causing him pain, and your chest aches to make him feel better.
"I'm sorry, I love you."
the words bring you back to that night, where you bared your heart to him and he trampled on it without a thought. you feel the urge to let more tears slip out, but you are tired of crying over people that do not care for you. you are tired of being the one that loves more.
but he looks different now. his eyes are filled with remorse, and you want to kiss his frown away. maybe, just maybe, this time you wouldn't be the one who loved too much for their own good.
he wipes a thumb underneath your eye, swiping over your cheek. you hadn't even realized you were crying until the concern in his face grew. it makes you feel embarrassed and angry at yourself, but you can’t find it in you to refuse his comfort.
"You don't mean that, Kiyoomi." your voice cracks involuntarily.
he shakes his head pushing your foreheads closer to one another. "I do, I mean it. I'll say it a million times until you believe me."
you huff out a shaky breath. "A million times is a bit dramatic."
"I'd do it for you." he moves his head to the side, pressing a kiss to your temple. the action has butterflies erupting in your stomach, unused to something so innocently romantic.
"You realize we have a lot to talk about? It won't be easy. I can't forgive you so quickly." you lean closer, tilting your head up.
he leans his head downwards. "I know. I'm sorry, just give me a chance and we can talk about it. I'll work hard to make you forgive me." the words are whispered close to your lips, his breath hitting your face. the minty scent is so Kiyoomi, it has your heart fluttering.
you know you have a lot to talk about. you can't just gloss over the month you spent apart, and you would have to talk to your friends about your choice to give him another chance. it would be difficult, and a risk. you were tired of pouring love into people who could not understand its substance.
but perhaps you can hope; you can hope that this time things will be different. that you'll love someone who will love you back all the same.
"Okay." you say softly.
he smiles, and you wonder if you are imagining the glassy look in his eyes. "Okay?"
you nod, whispering once more. "Yeah, okay."
he tilts his head down and captures your lips with his own, one arm sliding around your waist and the other in your hair, tugging you impossibly close.
you gasp into it, not expecting the desperation that leaks from his lips. he pushes you against the wall, with you wrapping your arms around his neck.
tomorrow, you'd have a lot to think about. you'll have to talk to him and figure out what's in store for the two of you. you will also have to face people who will surely disagree with your decision.
but that was a problem for the future.
for now, you're content to focus on the warm lips on your own.
EXTRA:
"So, what happened with that girl anyway?" your cheek is smushed on Kiyoomi's chest as the two of you lay in bed. you had come over to his place after his practice, and you were enjoying the skinship and cuddles.
he shifts underneath you, "Which girl?" his voice is drowsy, and you know he's falling asleep. you can't help yourself though, you've been curious.
you lift your head, smiling at his tired eyes. "The one from the game. She kept touching you."
you watch recognition fill his eyes as he hums, "She asked me to grab a coffee a few days after the game. Haven't responded though."
you nod, satisfied. "Are you going to? Respond, that is."
he turns, large arm wrapping around you. "Why would I do that when I have you? I'd rather the both of us get coffee sometime."
you laugh, "Are you asking me out on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?"
he smiles sleepily, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Yes. Let's get coffee soon."
you giggle, snuggling closer. "Okay, sounds good to me."
the surprise you had wanted to give to him after the game sits on his wall, framed and beside his bed. the drawing is one of your best, filled with the overwhelming love you know you could only ever offer to Kiyoomi.
love has always been something daunting for you. to love so wholeheartedly meant the likelihood of someone hurting you was greater. but you don't regret anything, not the slightest bit.
because you know how much love you have to offer, and as long as its to the right person, you know he'll keep your heart safe.
you love him, and you're not sorry.
a/n: 9.7k words later i refuse to read this again:’)
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boy's night ☆ riki nishimura
☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results!
☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game
☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3
☆ word count: 1.7k words
"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.
Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.
There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.
Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.
Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.
Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.
He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.
Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.
Enter: You.
You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.
Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.
You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!
Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.
"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.
"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.
"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"
With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.
"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—
".... But you think she's pretty, right?"
And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.
And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.
So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.
It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks.
The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.
"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.
The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.
"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.
"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"
Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.
"Move your fatass head!"
"I can't see!"
As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.
What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?
His head was spinning.
"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.
"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.
"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.
"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.
"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"
"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly.
"Why is that a bad thing?"
All of his friends groaned.
They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.
Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.
"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"
"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.
"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"
"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.
"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."
Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."
They all groaned loudly.
"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"
Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.
"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned.
Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.
"She responded!"
Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.
"Oh my god, it's happening!"
"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"
"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"
And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.
[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot.
"OHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"
According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.
"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"
"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"
"I agree," Sunoo said.
"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"
But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.
"Riki, what are you doing?!"
Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.
I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.
When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.
"It's over."
"You're insane."
"Fumbled."
Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"
The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.
You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.
"Good game, guys."
"100% over."
Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?
But then you finally replied.
My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.
Oh.
My.
God.
Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.
I'm free tomorrow, he typed.
"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"
Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.
"D-Did she just ask you out?"
Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."
"Yes?!"
Riki blinked again. "Yeah."
.
.
.
And then it hit him.
"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"
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