Kiyoomi Sakusa - Tumblr Posts
Sakuatsu but it's Lemon Eyes by Meg Myers. Someone tell me they see the vision or I might end up on national television, none of my friends are as insane about sakuatsu as I am and it's driving me nuts.
soft launch ᵕ̈ timeskip! sakusa kiyoomi x gn reader ˎˊ˗
⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : it's just a silly ⋮⋮ little tiktok, nothing major ... ⋮⋮ right ?
📋 content ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ♡ # 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 🥛 ♡ # 2.6k 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴
🎶 on shuffle “ never lose me ” - flo milli ( specifically the trending clip of " yeah he my man , he was never your type . if you try me , ho it ' s on sight " , but whatever tiktok audio you ended up using is up to you lol <3 )
🧸 directory ‹ ✩ like what you read ? check out more of my blog ! •ᴗ•
💬 kuroppiii ─ “ first time i ' ve pulled myself together to write about sakusa bc when i think about him , i simply can ' t think straight . an exaggeration ? man i wish !! ”
you weren’t anyone special, really. you lived your life, pursuing your goals and hobbies, spending time with those you love. there were things you were good at, sure, but any sort of recognition or praise for those things only ever came from those closest to you. if you walked down the street, no one would bat an eye. "ordinary" couldn't have described you any better.
your boyfriend on the other hand, star wing spiker and outside hitter of the msby jackals, jersey number 15, sakusa kiyoomi certainly was a bit extra-ordinary in the public's eye.
if you took any of his official social media accounts, they easily skyrocketed ahead of any of your accounts in the sheer numbers of following or likes or views. but that's only natural, as the reasons you love your boyfriend–talented, cool, handsome–surely would be shared by the thousands he's subjected to by being in the limelight of the popular and successful pro-volleyball team.
but what else is natural, is that you've always wanted to be able to "soft launch" him, your boyfriend. you've scrolled through your tiktok "for you" page and your pinterest feeds and have undoubtedly saved every "soft launch inspo <3" post you've seen.
the idea was just perfect, you thought–sakusa often prefers not having his face in photos or videos anyway.
to sakusa, however, well... he didn’t really get it until you sat down and had to explain it. you always found it ironic he was never the most active online despite having the bigger following count between the two of you, after all.
“so you want to go public?” he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice.
"well, yes. but also no," you tried to clarify, leaving him with an even more perplexed face that tugged at your lips as you smiled and calmly continued with your elaboration.
you and him have discussed how to navigate your relationship with his volleyball stardom in the past before. it's not like your closest friends and family didn't know about your relationship, but granted, some of your more casual friends and acquaintances who followed your socials probably didn't entirely know either.
the general public definitely did not know, though, of course. but that's why you'd just post something on your accounts, significantly smaller than his.
“are you okay with that?" you made sure to confirm with him, after explaining your thought process on the whole idea.
he came over to you and placed his hands on your hips gently, a concentrated look in attempts to understand your idea adorning his features as he spoke, “i mean, i'd love to be able to finally let everyone know about us–but really it's up to you if you're okay with it. when it comes to things like this—always has, love.”
and what he said was true, from the moment you started dating he was always trying to protect your peace from the media and reporters and cameras. to him, you were like his private repose from all that. but admittedly, as time went on, you both came to realize keeping your relationship under wraps could get pretty hard at times, especially when you wished to go on normal dates out and about instead of resorting to small secluded get-togethers with the handful of people you who knew or nights spent inside your home.
you shook your head as you reached up to brush some of his curls out of his face, revealing his beauty marks above his eye—brows subtly knit together as he considered how your idea might play out in the longrun.
his arms lovingly pull you even closer as you reassure him, "it's just my friends and family who might see it, anyway. it's just a fun little thing to do, omi, that's all!"
، そ ✧ の後 🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...
a few days later, you and sakusa had an event to attend with the rest of his team. it was a nice dinner so you were all dressed up–the perfect get-up to record a small tiktok or two to satisfy your boredom as you waited for your boyfriend to finish getting ready himself.
as you scrolled through your saved audios, you stood by the humble expanse of wall where sakusa had some of his volleyball medals and trinkets displayed in your shared apartment. then it hit you: this would be the perfect opportunity for that soft launch you were thinking about.
he didn't even have to be there, you could just have his framed "sakusa 15" jersey and recognitions with his name on it in the background as you sang along to a song. it was simple. a little ostentatious? maybe. but you thought it was subtle and fun enough to entertain the people who followed you and were going to see it.
so you picked an audio and started recording. your accessories for going out that night glimmered with the gold medals on the wall in the dim lights of the apartment as you lip-synced to the lyrics, showing off your outfit with a slightly sly attitude of making claim to your relationship with sakusa–claim to what rightfully was yours.
but just as the timer on your video was up, you hear sakusa’s voice approaching from down the hallway, his watch clattering as he's trying to put it on, "what are you doing?"
you break out into a sheepish smile as you rush over to end the video timer manually, "nothing! let's head out!"
in the car on the way to the event, you posted the video and thought nothing about it. no tags, no caption, no nothing–just something cheeky for your friends and family to see and hopefully get a small kick out of.
، そ ✧ の後 🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...
late the next morning after you wake up, you stretch over to your bedside table to grab your phone to do a first-thing-in-the-morning doom scroll. sakusa's still peacefully snoozing away–head tucked under your jaw, soft breaths fanning your neck, arm secured around your waist, and legs tangled with yours under the sheets–when you open up one of your socials and realize you've gained thousands of followers overnight... literally.
you swipe past notifications of your friends texting you dozens of messages to see that hundreds of comments have flooded the most recent post you made–pictures of you and those same friends on a day out in the city–no sakusa in sight yet a lot of the new comments gave mention to him.
almost thinking you're still asleep and dreaming, you scroll through the words total strangers have left for you. it was such a mixed bag: some were mean, some were just confused, and some were even very nice, complementing you on your appearance.
there were a few, however, that mentioned a certain "repost".
"here from the repost"
"RAN to see this after seeing the repost"
"it's been less than a day and there's already so many comments about the repost lol"
and so you go to look up your name with the word "repost" attached to it, and are met with dozens of articles about your "viral tiktok reposted by msby's sakusa kiyoomi seemingly hints at volleyball star's secret relationship".
shocked, but still trying not wake up said volleyball star with your reaction as he clung to you on your shared bed, you quickly switch over to your tiktok to look back at the video you had posted just the night before.
surely enough as you let the video play out, the buttons on the right-hand side of your phone screen displayed astronomically larger numbers than that you've ever seen something you've posted in your life track before.
as the video plays the moment sakusa had called out to you–with you smiling to somewhere off camera before getting up close to the camera and cutting off the recording–you look down lower on the screen and see “msby sakusa reposted”. his official account. (you knew this bc he had you help him set up his personal one, the name of which you set up to come up as simply his nickname amongst friends "omi" with the cleaning sponge and bubbles emoji.)
hearing the audio of the video, you can feel sakusa stir at your side, his brows furrow against your skin as he peeks out from under his messy bedhead of curls to look at what you could be watching so soon after waking up.
after processing it was a video of you, one of his hands wordlessly part from where it was snaked around your waist and reaches up to tap on the little heart icon on the side of your screen.
then his hand returns to where it was, and he retreats back to the space between your collarbone and your jaw, hoping to quickly be lulled back to sleep just for a bit more before you two would have to get up and get on with your day.
but after a brief moment, you can suddenly feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, groggy and sloughed down by drowsiness to a deep treble as he lazily mumbled, “oh... that was your phone. was wondering why it wasn’t liked yet. i could've sworn i did already...”
his words set loose butterflies in your stomach, knowing despite his limited time spent online, he still does everything to let you know he loves you, even if it takes making a small heart icon light up on a video you post. but soon that warm feeling goes away, as your concern quickly overcomes it given the current situation at hand.
“omi," you coo, an attempt to not let on in your voice how you were slightly freaking out as to not disturb his peaceful state, "did you repost it? my video?”
“of course i did,” he replied in a heartbeat. you could feel his breathing start to slow down, him on the brink of slipping back into continuing his slumber.
you also felt he didn't quite realize the implications of what he did.
“you looked nice in it,” you hear him drawl out, after being met with your contemplative silence.
you hummed as you asked a follow up question, “did you do it with your personal account?”
“mhmm,” he sounds so content when he hums back in reply, bliss apparent as he spoke being tangled up with you as sunlight peeked in through the bedroom windows.
one of your hands paused the tiktok from playing and departed from where it clutched your phone to comb through sakusa's hair–partly to calm your nerves and partly in adoration at the realization he was so eager to show you his affection, that he didn’t check which account he was on before he reposted your video.
you tried your best to say your next words carefully and gently, “well i don’t think you did, babe."
"hm?"
trying to act nonchalant about it, you continue, "i gained, like, a thousand followers while we were sleeping.”
"hm?!!"
you no longer feel his curls under your fingertips as he retreats from his little hiding spot, now confronting your phone screen where surely enough, he caught a glimpse of the numbers your video was doing, as well as the little tag that, yes, it does look like he reposted your video using his official msby account.
he was wide awake now as one of his hands go to rake through his locks, and he starts rambling despite how his voice definitely wasn't caught up from his sleep yet, “y/n, angel, i'm so sorry. i didn't even check, i should've. i should've been more careful. now everyone know's about it, and it's all my fault. is anyone being mean to you about it? i can say something, or post something, right now, or—“
you cut his running mouth off with a kiss, dropping your phone in your lap to cup the sides of his face before you pull away.
"you're not... you're not mad at me?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours nervously.
a moment ago you were feeling a little more than uneasy at the thought that you weren't going to be just an ordinary person anymore. but now, seeing how much sakusa cared and doted over you, you realize you'll be fine. because you won't be dealing with it alone. you had someone extraordinary to be by your side each step of the way.
“no, omi. i'm not mad," you tell him through a warm smile, "at least we don't have to hide it anymore."
you feel him slightly nod in your hands, still on edge as he intently listens and hangs onto your every word. you could never get mad at that face. you can't resist the urge to brush your nose against his because of how cute you thought your boyfriend was.
"and besides, it still wasn’t a hard launch. we don't have to confirm anything just yet. so by social media rules... i can still post some more soft launches before we do that, no?" you say with a hint of mischief in your tone, making sakusa break out into a smile as he chuckles and places his hands over yours at the sides of his face.
"y'know what we always say," you continue with a more genuine voice, barely above a whisper, "we won’t let them get to us. we don't owe them anything–let them figure it out. what’s done is done, so let’s just have fun with it, okay?”
you're blessed with the sight of sakusa's dimpled smile growing even wider and before you know it he's all over you, on top of you smothering you with kisses, making you laugh as you try to pry him off of you.
he finally pauses to hover over you, his eyes with the slightest creases at their corners because of how he was smiling down at you, “thanks for bearing with me. not just my social media incompetence, but–for dealing with my… everything, i guess. i love you.”
the sheets ruffle around you as you gingergly wrap your arms up and around his neck, “i love you too omi. always will.”
you reach to grab your phone, buried somewhere in the blanket draped over the two of you, and sakusa rolls off of you as he finds it first and hands it to you. now it was your turn to ramble on, “how about we do the one where you stand behind me and hold the phone really high? or the one where you pick me up and spin me around in a random parking lot? or maybe i should make a video wearing your jersey–? oh my god that'd be diabolical, don't you think omi?"
he laughs into your shoulder at your eagerness as you spend the rest of the morning scrolling through soft launch videos online that you can save to copy later.
“i’ll do anything," he tells you, "i want to show you off–because now i can properly do it the way you've always deserved, love.”
⇩ ⇩ ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::
a few weeks (and a few more soft-launch tiktoks you both had fun with) later, although you and sakusa never publicly confirmed anything yet, his fans practically accepted that you and him were an item.
you even had the pleasure of seeing some fan-made edits of you come across your feed and appreciatively dropping a few likes on them yourself. but there was one in particular when you peeked into the comments of the video.
the original poster had commented on their own edit: "GUYS SAKUSA GAVE MY EDIT A LIKE WTF???"
you laughed out loud at the comment, considering as how your dear and darling boyfriend had never mentioned his apparent viewing and liking of these edits of you online as of late.
your boyfriend may have learned his lesson about public reposts, but it looks like his attempts at covering up what he hits "like" on needed a bit of work, too.
soft launch ᵕ̈ timeskip! sakusa kiyoomi x gn reader ˎˊ˗
⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : it's just a silly ⋮⋮ little tiktok, nothing major ... ⋮⋮ right ?
📋 content ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ♡ # 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 🥛 ♡ # 2.6k 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴
🎶 on shuffle “ never lose me ” - flo milli ( specifically the trending clip of " yeah he my man , he was never your type . if you try me , ho it ' s on sight " , but whatever tiktok audio you ended up using is up to you lol <3 )
🧸 directory ‹ ✩ like what you read ? check out more of my blog ! •ᴗ•
💬 kuroppiii ─ “ first time i ' ve pulled myself together to write about sakusa bc when i think about him , i simply can ' t think straight . an exaggeration ? man i wish !! ”
you weren’t anyone special, really. you lived your life, pursuing your goals and hobbies, spending time with those you love. there were things you were good at, sure, but any sort of recognition or praise for those things only ever came from those closest to you. if you walked down the street, no one would bat an eye. "ordinary" couldn't have described you any better.
your boyfriend on the other hand, star wing spiker and outside hitter of the msby jackals, jersey number 15, sakusa kiyoomi certainly was a bit extra-ordinary in the public's eye.
if you took any of his official social media accounts, they easily skyrocketed ahead of any of your accounts in the sheer numbers of following or likes or views. but that's only natural, as the reasons you love your boyfriend–talented, cool, handsome–surely would be shared by the thousands he's subjected to by being in the limelight of the popular and successful pro-volleyball team.
but what else is natural, is that you've always wanted to be able to "soft launch" him, your boyfriend. you've scrolled through your tiktok "for you" page and your pinterest feeds and have undoubtedly saved every "soft launch inspo <3" post you've seen.
the idea was just perfect, you thought–sakusa often prefers not having his face in photos or videos anyway.
to sakusa, however, well... he didn’t really get it until you sat down and had to explain it. you always found it ironic he was never the most active online despite having the bigger following count between the two of you, after all.
“so you want to go public?” he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice.
"well, yes. but also no," you tried to clarify, leaving him with an even more perplexed face that tugged at your lips as you smiled and calmly continued with your elaboration.
you and him have discussed how to navigate your relationship with his volleyball stardom in the past before. it's not like your closest friends and family didn't know about your relationship, but granted, some of your more casual friends and acquaintances who followed your socials probably didn't entirely know either.
the general public definitely did not know, though, of course. but that's why you'd just post something on your accounts, significantly smaller than his.
“are you okay with that?" you made sure to confirm with him, after explaining your thought process on the whole idea.
he came over to you and placed his hands on your hips gently, a concentrated look in attempts to understand your idea adorning his features as he spoke, “i mean, i'd love to be able to finally let everyone know about us–but really it's up to you if you're okay with it. when it comes to things like this—always has, love.”
and what he said was true, from the moment you started dating he was always trying to protect your peace from the media and reporters and cameras. to him, you were like his private repose from all that. but admittedly, as time went on, you both came to realize keeping your relationship under wraps could get pretty hard at times, especially when you wished to go on normal dates out and about instead of resorting to small secluded get-togethers with the handful of people you who knew or nights spent inside your home.
you shook your head as you reached up to brush some of his curls out of his face, revealing his beauty marks above his eye—brows subtly knit together as he considered how your idea might play out in the longrun.
his arms lovingly pull you even closer as you reassure him, "it's just my friends and family who might see it, anyway. it's just a fun little thing to do, omi, that's all!"
، そ ✧ の後 🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...
a few days later, you and sakusa had an event to attend with the rest of his team. it was a nice dinner so you were all dressed up–the perfect get-up to record a small tiktok or two to satisfy your boredom as you waited for your boyfriend to finish getting ready himself.
as you scrolled through your saved audios, you stood by the humble expanse of wall where sakusa had some of his volleyball medals and trinkets displayed in your shared apartment. then it hit you: this would be the perfect opportunity for that soft launch you were thinking about.
he didn't even have to be there, you could just have his framed "sakusa 15" jersey and recognitions with his name on it in the background as you sang along to a song. it was simple. a little ostentatious? maybe. but you thought it was subtle and fun enough to entertain the people who followed you and were going to see it.
so you picked an audio and started recording. your accessories for going out that night glimmered with the gold medals on the wall in the dim lights of the apartment as you lip-synced to the lyrics, showing off your outfit with a slightly sly attitude of making claim to your relationship with sakusa–claim to what rightfully was yours.
but just as the timer on your video was up, you hear sakusa’s voice approaching from down the hallway, his watch clattering as he's trying to put it on, "what are you doing?"
you break out into a sheepish smile as you rush over to end the video timer manually, "nothing! let's head out!"
in the car on the way to the event, you posted the video and thought nothing about it. no tags, no caption, no nothing–just something cheeky for your friends and family to see and hopefully get a small kick out of.
، そ ✧ の後 🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...
late the next morning after you wake up, you stretch over to your bedside table to grab your phone to do a first-thing-in-the-morning doom scroll. sakusa's still peacefully snoozing away–head tucked under your jaw, soft breaths fanning your neck, arm secured around your waist, and legs tangled with yours under the sheets–when you open up one of your socials and realize you've gained thousands of followers overnight... literally.
you swipe past notifications of your friends texting you dozens of messages to see that hundreds of comments have flooded the most recent post you made–pictures of you and those same friends on a day out in the city–no sakusa in sight yet a lot of the new comments gave mention to him.
almost thinking you're still asleep and dreaming, you scroll through the words total strangers have left for you. it was such a mixed bag: some were mean, some were just confused, and some were even very nice, complementing you on your appearance.
there were a few, however, that mentioned a certain "repost".
"here from the repost"
"RAN to see this after seeing the repost"
"it's been less than a day and there's already so many comments about the repost lol"
and so you go to look up your name with the word "repost" attached to it, and are met with dozens of articles about your "viral tiktok reposted by msby's sakusa kiyoomi seemingly hints at volleyball star's secret relationship".
shocked, but still trying not wake up said volleyball star with your reaction as he clung to you on your shared bed, you quickly switch over to your tiktok to look back at the video you had posted just the night before.
surely enough as you let the video play out, the buttons on the right-hand side of your phone screen displayed astronomically larger numbers than that you've ever seen something you've posted in your life track before.
as the video plays the moment sakusa had called out to you–with you smiling to somewhere off camera before getting up close to the camera and cutting off the recording–you look down lower on the screen and see “msby sakusa reposted”. his official account. (you knew this bc he had you help him set up his personal one, the name of which you set up to come up as simply his nickname amongst friends "omi" with the cleaning sponge and bubbles emoji.)
hearing the audio of the video, you can feel sakusa stir at your side, his brows furrow against your skin as he peeks out from under his messy bedhead of curls to look at what you could be watching so soon after waking up.
after processing it was a video of you, one of his hands wordlessly part from where it was snaked around your waist and reaches up to tap on the little heart icon on the side of your screen.
then his hand returns to where it was, and he retreats back to the space between your collarbone and your jaw, hoping to quickly be lulled back to sleep just for a bit more before you two would have to get up and get on with your day.
but after a brief moment, you can suddenly feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, groggy and sloughed down by drowsiness to a deep treble as he lazily mumbled, “oh... that was your phone. was wondering why it wasn’t liked yet. i could've sworn i did already...”
his words set loose butterflies in your stomach, knowing despite his limited time spent online, he still does everything to let you know he loves you, even if it takes making a small heart icon light up on a video you post. but soon that warm feeling goes away, as your concern quickly overcomes it given the current situation at hand.
“omi," you coo, an attempt to not let on in your voice how you were slightly freaking out as to not disturb his peaceful state, "did you repost it? my video?”
“of course i did,” he replied in a heartbeat. you could feel his breathing start to slow down, him on the brink of slipping back into continuing his slumber.
you also felt he didn't quite realize the implications of what he did.
“you looked nice in it,” you hear him drawl out, after being met with your contemplative silence.
you hummed as you asked a follow up question, “did you do it with your personal account?”
“mhmm,” he sounds so content when he hums back in reply, bliss apparent as he spoke being tangled up with you as sunlight peeked in through the bedroom windows.
one of your hands paused the tiktok from playing and departed from where it clutched your phone to comb through sakusa's hair–partly to calm your nerves and partly in adoration at the realization he was so eager to show you his affection, that he didn’t check which account he was on before he reposted your video.
you tried your best to say your next words carefully and gently, “well i don’t think you did, babe."
"hm?"
trying to act nonchalant about it, you continue, "i gained, like, a thousand followers while we were sleeping.”
"hm?!!"
you no longer feel his curls under your fingertips as he retreats from his little hiding spot, now confronting your phone screen where surely enough, he caught a glimpse of the numbers your video was doing, as well as the little tag that, yes, it does look like he reposted your video using his official msby account.
he was wide awake now as one of his hands go to rake through his locks, and he starts rambling despite how his voice definitely wasn't caught up from his sleep yet, “y/n, angel, i'm so sorry. i didn't even check, i should've. i should've been more careful. now everyone know's about it, and it's all my fault. is anyone being mean to you about it? i can say something, or post something, right now, or—“
you cut his running mouth off with a kiss, dropping your phone in your lap to cup the sides of his face before you pull away.
"you're not... you're not mad at me?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours nervously.
a moment ago you were feeling a little more than uneasy at the thought that you weren't going to be just an ordinary person anymore. but now, seeing how much sakusa cared and doted over you, you realize you'll be fine. because you won't be dealing with it alone. you had someone extraordinary to be by your side each step of the way.
“no, omi. i'm not mad," you tell him through a warm smile, "at least we don't have to hide it anymore."
you feel him slightly nod in your hands, still on edge as he intently listens and hangs onto your every word. you could never get mad at that face. you can't resist the urge to brush your nose against his because of how cute you thought your boyfriend was.
"and besides, it still wasn’t a hard launch. we don't have to confirm anything just yet. so by social media rules... i can still post some more soft launches before we do that, no?" you say with a hint of mischief in your tone, making sakusa break out into a smile as he chuckles and places his hands over yours at the sides of his face.
"y'know what we always say," you continue with a more genuine voice, barely above a whisper, "we won’t let them get to us. we don't owe them anything–let them figure it out. what’s done is done, so let’s just have fun with it, okay?”
you're blessed with the sight of sakusa's dimpled smile growing even wider and before you know it he's all over you, on top of you smothering you with kisses, making you laugh as you try to pry him off of you.
he finally pauses to hover over you, his eyes with the slightest creases at their corners because of how he was smiling down at you, “thanks for bearing with me. not just my social media incompetence, but–for dealing with my… everything, i guess. i love you.”
the sheets ruffle around you as you gingergly wrap your arms up and around his neck, “i love you too omi. always will.”
you reach to grab your phone, buried somewhere in the blanket draped over the two of you, and sakusa rolls off of you as he finds it first and hands it to you. now it was your turn to ramble on, “how about we do the one where you stand behind me and hold the phone really high? or the one where you pick me up and spin me around in a random parking lot? or maybe i should make a video wearing your jersey–? oh my god that'd be diabolical, don't you think omi?"
he laughs into your shoulder at your eagerness as you spend the rest of the morning scrolling through soft launch videos online that you can save to copy later.
“i’ll do anything," he tells you, "i want to show you off–because now i can properly do it the way you've always deserved, love.”
⇩ ⇩ ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::
a few weeks (and a few more soft-launch tiktoks you both had fun with) later, although you and sakusa never publicly confirmed anything yet, his fans practically accepted that you and him were an item.
you even had the pleasure of seeing some fan-made edits of you come across your feed and appreciatively dropping a few likes on them yourself. but there was one in particular when you peeked into the comments of the video.
the original poster had commented on their own edit: "GUYS SAKUSA GAVE MY EDIT A LIKE WTF???"
you laughed out loud at the comment, considering as how your dear and darling boyfriend had never mentioned his apparent viewing and liking of these edits of you online as of late.
your boyfriend may have learned his lesson about public reposts, but it looks like his attempts at covering up what he hits "like" on needed a bit of work, too.
Bokuto: Here's a fun Christmas idea! We hang a mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you've to FIGHT whoever is under it.
Sakusa: Bokuto no.
Hinata: Mistlefoe.
Sakusa: Stop encouraging him.
Atsumu: If you fuck the person under it then it's mistlehoe-
Sakusa: MIYA ATSUMU.
Meian: Ah yes. A normal Christmas evening.
3 or 20 with skts for the things you said prompt!!
i've been having a hard time recently so i gave all my issues to sakusa. i hope this turned out ok <3
as simple as brushing your teeth, or: some ways he learns to love you
summary: kiyoomi does not know when he last brushed his teeth. atsumu is kinder about it than expected. they love each other. prompt: things you said too quietly / things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear pairings: established kiyoomi sakusa/atsumu miya words: 1917 warnings: discussion of some not so pretty body stuff (kiyoomi doesn't brush his teeth for a while and they talk about it. that's the whole fic.), a one-line mention of throwing up after drinking
“It’s bothering you again, isn’t it?”
Kiyoomi flinches, tearing his gaze away from himself in the mirror. He hadn’t heard Atsumu come over to their bathroom. He had left the door open, just intending to grab some lotion before exiting again, and Atsumu must have caught sight of him from the hallway.
Living together has been good mostly, even if that was slightly unexpected. Sharing his space has never come naturally to Kiyoomi, but Atsumu has been as accommodating as he can be and so allowing his boyfriend of two years a place in his apartment so far has been a net positive.
It’s only been a few months though and Kiyoomi forgets sometimes that Atsumu is there. He forgets that when he stares at himself in the mirror and makes faces at his reflection, there’s the risk of Atsumu catching him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kiyoomi says stiffly. He turns away from Atsumu to look at his reflection again. “Nothing is bothering me.”
At the edge of his peripheral vision, Atsumu crosses his arms, leaning against the arch of the bathroom doorway. “Babe, something is always bothering you. And I see you grimacing every time you bite something too hard. Don’t think I don’t notice. Your teeth are hurting you again.”
“My teeth are fine.”
Atsumu is frowning, Kiyoomi knows he must be even if he isn’t looking at the doorway. “You don’t have to lie to me about it, Omi. If you’re in pain then—”
“I’m not in pain,” Kiyoomi snaps. It comes out harsher than he wanted it to, but standing in their tiny bathroom with its bright white lighting and wide, imposing mirror, he’s beginning to feel a little like a caged animal. “I told you. My teeth are fine.”
Atsumu is quiet for a minute, and Kiyoomi almost thinks he’s going to change the topic. But then again, Atsumu Miya has never once been able to let something go. “How long has it been then?”
“How long has what been?” There’s a crisp annoyance in Kiyoomi’s words.
“Since you brushed your teeth.”
Kiyoomi stills. He feels a little breathless as he runs his tongue over his upper row of teeth. He can feel the buildup of plaque and a tooth juts out at an odd angle, a product of not having worn his retainer as a teenager. Another tooth is starting to feel much sharper than it used to. “That’s none of your business.”
Atsumu snorts. “As the guy kissing you on the daily, it feels like a little bit my business.”
“Well no one is fucking forcing you to do that!” Kiyoomi’s snap is cold and cruel, like a slap to the face or like biting straight into ice.
Atsumu recoils, uncrossing his arms and straightening up. “No, no one’s forcing me to do it, I like doing it. I’m just—brushing your teeth is kind of a significant self-care thing, Omi.”
And suddenly Kiyoomi is so fucking tired. “Just leave it alone.”
“If it’s been so long that it hurts to chew, then I feel like I’m right to be worried.”
“It doesn’t hurt to chew.”
Atsumu sighs, and Kiyoomi loves him for caring, he does, but he didn’t—he didn’t ever want to have to have this conversation. He knows it’s disgusting. He’s perfectly well aware that it is. He also knows its unhealthy, and he knows that he should just go to a dentist who will tell him to stop being a disgusting fucking child and brush his teeth. Not in those exact words probably, but it would sting like that.
“Omi. Babe. Kiyoomi.” Atsumu steps forward, and Kiyoomi doesn’t react, doesn’t turn as Atsumu puts a hand at his elbow. “Why are you fighting me about this?”
“I’m not—”
“Kiyoomi.”
Atsumu is serious, drawing a hard line in the sand with just the tone of his voice. He actually wants to talk about this and Kiyoomi kind of wants to cry or lash out or storm off and he doesn’t know which of the three will hurt least.
“It’s disgusting,” he murmurs, low under his breath. He doesn’t think he actually wants Atsumu to hear it, doesn’t want him to know: know the truth of the mouth he kisses, know the shame of the boy he thinks he loves. “I know it is. You don’t have to tell me.”
Atsumu steps closer, moving to stand behind him and hooking his chin on his shoulder. “Didn’t catch that first part, baby. What do I not have to tell you?”
His words are suddenly achingly soft and crying is starting to seem like the best option. Kiyoomi doesn’t deserve this tenderness. His teeth hurt and he doesn’t deserve Atsumu’s kindness, much less this intimacy.
“I’m disgusting,” Kiyoomi says, louder, and his voice cracks. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
In the mirror, Kiyoomi sees as Atsumu lifts his head with the concern in his expression only growing. He puts his hands on Kiyoomi’s waist and guides him in spinning around so they face each other. “You aren’t disgusting.”
“I don’t remember,” Kiyoomi says quietly, “when the last time I brushed my teeth was. And now they’re—fucking rotting out of my mouth and you’re never going to want to kiss me again and—”
“Kiyoomi.” Atsumu doesn’t wait for him to finish panicking, cutting off the ramble before he can truly begin spiraling. “Breathe. You’re okay. Your mouth is not rotting and I am always—always—going to want to kiss you.”
Kiyoomi looks at him then, really, truly looks at him, at all of the worry and the love in the lines of his expression, and then he feels the tears start to spill over. He squeezes his eyes shut, suddenly feeling so fragile and so far past broken.
“I’m trying,” he chokes out. “But I’m—it’s—it’s gross and—”
“Breathe,” Atsumu says again, running his hands in smooth, even motions up and down Kiyoomi’s arms. “I’m not gonna deny that it’s kind of gross, baby. But it doesn’t make you disgusting and it is never, ever going to make me love you less. There is nothing you could do to make me love you less, no matter what habits you have or don’t have that I don’t get. Okay?”
Kiyoomi swallows. His voice small, he whispers, “Okay.”
“Okay,” Atsumu says firmly. “Do you want to talk to me about it now? For real, without lying?”
“I don’t know why it’s so hard,” Kiyoomi confesses. He’s staring at Atsumu’s mouth, at his unchapped lips and the gentle curve of a smile that perpetually rests there. “I know it’s disgusting and I know it’s unhealthy but I hate the sensation and so I can’t make myself do it. Despite being an adult and despite it—hurting. And the longer I wait, the worse it feels to try. And there’s blood and it hurts and—I can’t make myself do it, so I just don’t, and—and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Atsumu says first. He puts a hand on Kiyoomi’s cheek to wipe away some of the tears. At some point, he had stopped crying and now he’s left feeling like a small child worn out from a meltdown. “I’m just trying to understand. I’m not judging you.”
“You are,” Kiyoomi snaps, wrenching himself out of Atsumu’s grip. “Everyone does. Don’t think I don’t notice.”
Atsumu looks at him for a long, tense moment. Then, “And when have I ever been like everyone else? Omi, I just don’t want you to be in pain anymore.”
“I’m dealing with it.”
“You aren’t and you know it.” Atsumu takes a small step forward again, pressing Kiyoomi against the sink. He takes his hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “You’re so thorough in every health thing but this. What makes this so different?”
“I don’t know,” Kiyoomi murmurs, looking down at their clasped hands. Shame washes over him like a river, like muscle memory, like déjà vu. “It just hurts. Whether I do it or not. So I don’t. I’m sorry, please don’t—”
Atsumu hums a little, low in his throat and Kiyoomi cuts himself off. “Stop apologizing. I’m not upset with you. I just hate that you’re hurting and I can’t do anything about it.”
“It’s my own issue,” Kiyoomi mutters. “Consequences of my own actions. Lack of actions.”
Atsumu takes a slow breath. “Maybe, but I’m still going to be here for you. That’s kind of part of the deal of dating me, Omi. You’re stuck with me.”
Kiyoomi snorts. “Okay.”
“What if we do it at the same time every night?” Atsumu offers. “Together.”
“Maybe.” Kiyoomi shrugs noncommittally.
“It’s a yes or no question, babe.”
Kiyoomi takes a breath. Atsumu is smiling, hopeful with his stupid perfect teeth all on display. Kiyoomi kind of wants to kiss him but his own mouth is disgusting and so he doesn’t.
“It’s going to be gross,” Kiyoomi says. “There will be blood. There always is.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want you to see me like that.” It’s murmured under his breath, low and unsure of itself. “All…gross.”
Atsumu lets go of his hands and puts his own hands to Kiyoomi’s cheeks again, cupping his face in his palms. For a moment, Kiyoomi is so small there, and so protected.
“Kiyoomi Sakusa,” Atsumu presses a kiss to his forehead, soft and cold. “I want to love you for the rest of my life. That means there will be moments when one or both of us do gross things, or embarrassing things. And none of it will change the fact that I love you. If brushing our teeth together will help get it done, I don’t care if I see any blood, or plaque, or old food, or whatever. I just want you to be healthy, and not hurting.”
“One time I did it, I cried myself hoarse,” Kiyoomi says. It’s plainly spoken, matter of fact, but even Kiyoomi can hear the insecurity in it. “It’s pathetic.”
“You watched me moan and groan for a week after I slipped and fell at a meet and greet in front of some fans. It was pathetic, and I know you still love me.”
“It’s dirty. Disgusting.”
“You held my hair back while I vomited for an hour after drinking too much with Bokuto. You were very brave and sweet about it, even if you made fun of me the entire next day. And you still love me.”
“It’s different.”
Atsumu sighs. He leans forward, resting their foreheads together gently. “Omi. Let me see you. Let me help you. It won’t change my opinion of you. Trust me.”
Kiyoomi makes eye contact for a long, quiet, heartbreak of a moment. Then, finding nothing but honesty and love in Atsumu’s gaze, he closes his own eyes. “I love you.”
“I know.” Atsumu’s breath is warm on his cracked lips. “So will you let me be with you on this?”
Kiyoomi exhales slowly, measured and controlled. He’s been wearing face masks more constantly than usual recently, and a not insignificant part of that is the desire to hide his teeth. And fuck, he’s tired of hiding, and he’s tired of his mouth aching, and he’s scared and he feels dirty and gross and—
“Omi?”
And Atsumu loves him. Is here with him, without shame. Just with love and care.
“Yeah,” Kiyoomi says quietly. “We have to do it now or I’ll never do it. But okay. Okay.”
When he opens his eyes, Atsumu is smiling. “Okay. Let’s do it then.”
[22:36] sakusa (trying to) move on
warnings mentions of death
other timestamps
![[22:36] Sakusa (trying To) Move On](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a652e3ca550e16d7b13f1b9d35ae3ba5/43c8735939049418-a5/s500x750/bd037107cccbdbf5ecb7dbe893d095ead928c20c.png)
he gazed on her side of the bed, tightening his grip on the duvet, reaching out his free hand as if the ghost of her would appear into the tips of his calloused fingers.
the night would haunt his consciousness and he spent days sleepless, slowly going into a frenzy as if there were no hope. the gravitational force of a being that kept him on his toes had vanished into an unexpected collision with his last memories of her being a voicemail in which she apologises for her mistakes.
truly, he wish he didn't argue with her the night before, he wish he didn't pin the blame on her, he wish he had apologised and made up for his mistakes as she crumbled on her side of the bed, unbeknownst of tomorrow's events.
a part of his body felt like it was rotting away, decomposing as his beloved had done so six feet underground. payback for what he had done. no remorse in the world could ever bring her back and the vacant right side of the bed had constantly reminded him so.
yet the next morning he arrived into practice, as if the days never changed, like she had never left his side. avoiding the leering eyes of his teammates, he sat down on the bench and began to unpack the necessities for today's practice.
“omi, it hasn't been a month yet, we told you to take a break. go home, yeah?” atsumu plops himself a good distance from sakusa, but close enough so that no one else can hear their conversation.
“i know, but she's not there.”
a/n: stream folklore <3
.when you were mine - sakusa kiyoomi
.pairings sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader
.genre angst, break up, lovers to exes, hurt no comfort
.ongoing | completed
.tw cursing(?)
.wc 2.4k
SUMMARY
Leaving Sakusa Kiyoomi was hard, but staying with him was harder.
Keep me in your arms again, I pine for the warm feeling of home where our limbs laid restlessly in our bed. I long for the touch of your fingertips and the ghost of your breath. I yearn for the mixed laundry in our room, and how you tried your best to keep the colours from mixing. Your efforts were far from being in vain, rather it was my fault for never trying hard enough for you. Trying hard enough for us.
I awaken alone now, with your side of the bed empty, and cold. A naked pillow with no head to call its own. The nights are darker, where the winter season couldn't hold a candle to the hiemal desolation that hibernated in my heart.
The coffee is bitter; dark and too acerbic for my own liking. The taste lingers too. It's pungent, and the scent wafts around the house until I leave it.
It's practically embarrassing to walk the streets without your hand intertwined in mine, I feel discomfited at the fact that I can no longer grab a hold of your hand in order to find sanctuary, the same hand I would grip onto afraid that I would lose you in broad daylight, the same hand that embraced your body every night that we slept, and the same hand that would wipe away your tears in the evening.
Yet it was twilight when you left me. I felt your presence begin to dissipate within the air as I slept for longer, so when the chill of a human's existence or lack thereof, had held me in the night, I woke up: to see nothing on your side.
And it all came flashing back to me, why you had left. Why you had packed your bags, why you cried as you removed most of your belongings into one suitcase.
ー
"You're late home today."
"Yeah."
Pure silence grows in the atmosphere and neither of us speak. You seemed expectant that I would answer you, but I couldn't tell at the time.
"...Do you want to tell me why?"
"Do I have to? I'm tired today."
"Okay. There's food in the fridge if you ever get hungry."
ー
The awkwardness that grew in our relationship may have driven you more and more to leave, and it's my fault for not trying. The effort that I lacked for our relationship had been made up for by you, and it had taken all of your energy alongside it, and quite possibly, your love for me.
I drained you by loving you languidly, I emptied your void by not filling it the way you had wanted me to. I expected you to make all of the first moves, and that you would do all the work for me in this relationship, and that I had to do nothing.
But you said to me that you were fine with getting hurt, so long as it were for me. So why are you leaving now, when you were the one who promised that you would do everything to make me happy, are you tired of me? Have you had enough?
Our solicitous tête-à-têtes had soon enough squandered from the depths of our hearts and eventually reshaped themselves into a mandatory chore made from the top of our heads, maybe to remind one another that there could've been a spark, that maybe our love was salvageable; even though you knew full well I could not respond in the healthy ways we knew I should have.
I've grown to detest the very sight of bookstores, or gardens. They were your favourite date idea and we hadn't been to either one of them together in months. But to my dismay, your favourite library had sent me an email, notifying there was a book yet to be returned, and we had to pay a small fine.
The nostalgia seemed to creep back up into my memory as I took steps closer to return the book Essays of Love that had been contained carefully in the tote bag which you bought me from our uni days.
ー
"I know it's not much, but we're starving students, and I thought this would suit your coat that your mom bought you." You shot a tender smile towards me, as you handed the off white bag with intricate black brushes against the material, that unexpectedly did suit the coat my mother had purchased for me.
"You didn't need to do this." I remember that I had pressed a small kiss against the pads of your knuckles as we stepped closer in proximity in the blistering winters of Tokyo; the neon lights of the building illuminating the features on your face in which I grew accustomed to.
"I know. But I love you."
"Thanks."
ー
"That'll be ¥1000." The local librarian speaks, aggressively typing against the keys of her board, and simultaneously writing swiftly against the yellow pad paper which had notes we both knew would be futile in the future.
Handing her the money, I gave a quick thank you before making my way back home in the dark afternoon of December. Meandering around the town wasted too much time, and the solitude which had consumed my being after your departure soon became an obligation in my life, and there could be no other way to regurgitate these feelings of drab emptiness and neglect. But I finally had time to think to myself for a bit though. As calamitous my mind was, the inhospitable temper of the winter night kept me company and I was numbed to the glacier like climate during my promenade.
I treated you with a manner that seemed perfectly fine to me, but neglectful to you and I became too expectant of your actions, anticipating for you to ask to hold my hand, or to request that I hug you in the night, and that I could pass you the box of tissues beside me; and I thought as though it was enough for you.
It's strenuous to walk around our home when everything is painted with you, when your hairbrush still abides on the edge of the vanity of our my room. When your mismatched socks still dawdle in the hallways and into my vision as I walk up the stairs every passing day after you left, or when your old shirt still situates on your side of the bed just as I had positioned it so.
Once again I yearn for you, just like those nights ago, and the pain comes washing back like a tide, exposing my most vulnerable aspects. The curtains close and I can finally let my bottled up ardour burst, chest heaving, lips trembling with an audible quiver every few seconds. Lachrymose eyes and a runny nose could only be a brief description of the inexpressible emotions bubbling up within my soul.
Sheer agony engulfs itself within me and I lose all senses of sanity as I think of how I've lost you, how you've left me, and how I can never get you back.
ー
"Kiyoomi?" His head had never turned so fast towards the reverberation of your voice. There you stood in your glory, wearing what he knew you would consider "indoor clothes", holding a bag in your arms as well as your keys to the house.
"What are you doing here?" Flicking the tears away and regaining his posture, he looms over you, observing your current state.
You didn't look any better, skin pale, lips chapped and hair disheveled, if anything, you seemed worse than he did, yet you had too much pride in your personality to admit that.
"I've come to collect the rest of my belongings." Sharp and clean was the cut. Enough to slice through Kiyoomi's heart, and you could hear it if you listened closely.
The impending outcome of your relationship had come to its destination, and he deemed it unacceptable, as he tried to grasp you in his clutches whilst you pack away the rest of your belongings, taking Kiyoomi's heart with you.
His countless cries echoed in your shared bedroom, as he attempted to take your clothes back out of the bag you had brought alongside you.
"Just one more day, please, stay with me. And I'll let you go." As heartbreaking as it would be to him, you scoffed, taking his words like a joke, like it was offensive of him to even step near you.
"Stop trying. I'm sick of this, I'm sick of you. Where was all of this six months ago? Why are you acting up now? Stop being selfish and let me go." Yanking your wrist away from him, you zip up the bag bringing the rest of your belongings, ignoring the clenching sensation going wild in your chest.
His countless tries to win you back into his arms for the night had failed to his dismay, and you had vanished into the twilight to a destination he would never figure out. Your relationship together had begun deteriorating the moment you'd granted him anything he wished without wanting something in return, or in this case, his love.
The neglect he'd provided you had only driven you to do more for him, maybe to please him, to make him look your way; but to no avail would he send an ounce of his undivided attention towards you, the love of his life for who knows how long. It was an ongoing cycle, and it wasn't until six months later you'd realise you wasted all of your time and energy on a man who wouldn't exert the same impression just to remind you that he did love you back.
Yet somehow, you knew that no matter how little he had shown you that he'd loved you too, there was a voice in the back of your head that would try to reassure that maybe, truly, he did love you the same way you loved him, but it was just that he struggled. But you'd gotten rid of the voice in that part of your head, you knew it would only hurt you to keep defending Kiyoomi in this empty relationship. Pretending to yourself that some day he'd say those three words back and not just some half assed "Me too" or "Thanks" was ruining you more than staying with him, so maybe leaving was for the better.
Although it was true that Kiyoomi was never an affectionate person in the first place, you'd assumed that he'd changed for the ones that he loves, as any normal person would do, but he would never budge out of his shell, only breaking what was left of your heart. His introversion seemed to keep up for three or more years, or however long it was the two of you dated, he'd never keep track as he deemed anniversaries to be "unnecessarily difficult to plan".
So moving on from him would be the best decision, even though you'd loved him since you were 17, and you had known no better, than to love Sakusa Kiyoomi, Itachiyama's Ace Spiker. Even though it was going to hurt, and the process would be long and hard, you knew it'd be for the better and the both of you would grow up to be happier people. After all, you're only 23.
"Goodbye, Kiyoomi. I-" It was a growing habit to always say 'I love you' before departing from him, maybe to encourage him to say it back. Although looking at where you are right now, you knew it'd be best not to say anything at all, just to save yourselves the pain.
He's fumbling through his words, before he finally stammers. "I lo-love you."
It was enough to make you stop in your tracks, but it could not fully equate to the agonising memories where you'd wait hours and hours every day just to make sure he got home safe. It could not amount to the times you had wasted to put an effort into the relationship only for him to hand back a yawn alongside a wave of his hand saying, 'Not today.' None of it could measure to the countless dates, movies, dinners he had missed, using the excuse of his practice.
You were never an important priority of his in the first place, and it finally came to be that you would never be a priority of his in the future. Staying with him for longer would only be a constant reminder of how little he tried between the two of you, and it would just be a shot to your ego at this point.
"Please say something." His voice is quiet and hoarse, barely trembling out the syllables that you could only jusy decipher. He attempts to close thr gap between the two of you, stepping closer with his hands reached out to grab yours, and you walk further back, shaking your head, shattering his heart on impact.
"No." You firmly reply. "I'm sick of waiting, I'm tired of having to lie to myself and everybody else about how you're doing when the last time I've been able to check, you would only wave me off and say 'night'. What the hell is that, Kiyoomi?" Your words shoot towards him like a shot of a new venom, and his body freezes, unprepared for your next response. "I don't want this anymore."
He shakes his head in refusal, not ready to face the facts. "Don't say it," he hushes you, "please, don't say anything. Just stay with me, I'll be better. I know I will."
The newfound urge to suddenly plead you back into his life almost convinces you to retract your statement, and just go back to him. Go back to staying in the quiet, lonely home, where you would spend most days wondering if Kiyoomi was even going to be back today. However, you shake your head again, and give him a pitiful smile, ready to crush his heart with your bare hands and let the remnants crumble for him to clean up.
"I don't want you, Kiyoomi. So just let me leave." You try your hardest to ignore the collapse in his expression as he finally hears your farewell. Taking the bag you had filled with the rest of your stuff, you walk away from Kiyoomi, with his cracked sobs in the background begging you to stay.
It's hard to miss the wails of the man you once loved when it's thrown right at your face, and you no longer have an obligation to wipe his tears away. The sobs get fainter and fainter, and you take a breath of relief as you finally feel free from the shackles that love had kept you under.
a/n hi lol this was kinda sitting in my drafts so i just like did what i could im sorry for the half assed ending im so tired these days :(( and its been like months since ive been on this account
Dimples and Laughter
Description: Sakusa has dimples. That’s it. This is what we are talking about today.
Disclaimer: I saw a post with something similar to this where they talked about Sakusa having dimples and I forgot who did it so when I find it, I’ll tag them. Just know that’s my inspiration for this. Anyways, enjoy my first post!
Genre: Fluff, sorta marriage and parenting au, drabble, slice of life,
Character Pairing: Timeskip Sakusa x Reader + your nine month old daughter, Rina
Warnings: none (unless babies count as a trigger warning lmao I’m really sorry), SAPPY AND ROMANTIC AF
A/N: I’m so obsessed with him
Word Count: 1.5k words
-
You roll over to your side, groaning as the sun’s rays penetrate through your eyelids, stirring from your restful slumber. You reach to feel the side of the bed where Kiyoomi normally sleeps, the sheets now cool to the touch from abandonment. You sigh into his pillow, the subtle scent of his cologne wafting into your nose. You want to stay there forever, but most of all, you want his strong arms thrown around your waist, burying into his toned chest, the warmth emanating off his frame in waves and warming your body.
You feel yourself growing bored without his presence. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, trudging to the bathroom and turn the nob in the shower to get the hot water running. You throw your clothes into the hamper before hopping in. After showering, you grab some clothes from your closet and slip on a pair of sweats and t-shirt before tying up your damp hair. As you walk down the hall to begin breakfast, a fit of muffled laughter comes from behind a cracked door of the nursery.
Curiosity bubbles inside your chest and you tiptoe closer, leaning against the cool wood. Peeking through the small crack, the sight of your husband sitting on the sparkling clean floor, playing with your daughter, appears. A smile creeps onto your face as he holds her and lifts her up into the air and pulls her back down onto his lap. Her squeals of laughter fills your ears and Kiyoomi can’t hold back a deep chuckle, gentle and fluid, a flash of a smile flickers through his quiet laugh. Your eyes scan his handsome face, the beautiful head of curly, dark locks, obsidian eyes, his defined jawline, and the two moles above his right eyebrow only accentuates his beauty.
You continued to watch your husband play with your daughter as another squeal of laughter falls from her lips. Slowly, but surely, the small, fond smile grows into a grin, full of genuine joy, and stretched ear to ear.
His smiles were infrequent. Occasionally, you will receive a smirk or a lipped smile that shows the tiniest indent of dimples, but other than that, Kiyoomi Sakusa rarely smiled.
Your breath hitches, absolutely dumbfounded. He’s grinning. Out of four years of dating, three years of marriage and almost a year with a child, you had never seen him beam with pure happiness until now. The dimples hidden behind his calm, nonchalant expression emerge. He has dimples, the indents on his cheeks so prominent that you are tempted to stick skittles in them and convinced that they will stay.
Understanding the rarity of this small moment, you stand there, lingering by the door and taking in every second that brilliant smile is on his face. The last thing you wanted was forget the smile that brought out the divots in his cheeks. It was like falling in love with him all over again, the feeling strangely familar, yet still foreign. Your mind spaces out, your heart swells with love, threatening to burst through your chest because your poor heart can’t take it. How is it possible that you can fall in love with him more than you already were?
He’s difficult to read under his calm and collected demeanor. Everything is out of the blue with him, but he never fails to make you fall for his beautiful unpredictabilities. When he kisses your forehead through his mask after coming home, showering immediately and once he does, his lips will always be found on yours; when he mutters, “thank you, love,” when you hand him a cup of coffee or tea; when he purposely places your favorite mug on the top shelf of the cabinet so you have to ask him to grab it for you and he gets the chance to kiss your shoulder or cheek and hug you from behind; when you catch him staring at you and he doesn’t look away, he has a fond look of awe in his eyes, unwavering, and heat rushes up your face.
The unpredictability of Kiyoomi only makes you hopelessly fall in love with him. It never fails to make your stomach flip at the small acts of affection he gives you, undeniable adoration he shows to you and to you only. It hits you when you least expect it and it's a wonderful surprise that renders you tongue-tied and you try to say the words, but your mind is in too much of a jumbled mess that they don’t fall past your throat. It was moments like these that left you star-struck and utterly speechless. You swear he’s going to be the death of you.
You decide to finally make your presence known. You nudge the door open, careful not to disturb their peace.
“Good morning, Kiyoomi,” you whisper as you gently shut the door behind you.
He lifts his head at your voice, a flicker of a smile still teasing his lips when he finally lets his face relax. “Good morning, darling.” The pet name always sends tingles across your body, making your toes curl and your heart ache.
Your daughter is still paying attention to him, her arms making motions in the air, trying to get his attention so he can lift her again. He obliges and the sweet ring of hysteric giggles fill the room once again.
You sit down next to him, your daughter’s large eyes on you now as Kiyoomi set her back down on his lap, his large hands holding her gently and rubbing her back in soothing patterns. His practicality and carefulness made parenthood look good on him.
“Good morning, Rina,” you say sweetly as you stroke the dark bunch of hair she inherited from her father.
She babbles as if trying to come up with a construction of sentences. You place a few kisses on her head, smiling at her nonsense words. Out of the corner of your eye, Kiyoomi lets his face break into a fond smile. You smile even wider.
“It seems to me that you have been using her as a dumbbell to workout,” you joke. He has been taking more days off to help you raise your daughter and she has grown even more fond of him.
He quirks an amused eyebrow. “She isn’t heavy enough to be a weight.”
You roll your eyes. “I know that.” You hadn’t forgotten his taut, muscular figure, toned with muscle and minimal fat.
“Have you eaten anything yet?” You ask as your thumb creates circles on his forearm, coiled with veins and tendons.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“I’ll start breakfast right now.” You start to stand up, but his calloused hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back.
“Can I have a kiss?” He asks gingerly, his hand caressing your jaw. It was adorable when he asked for affection and it wasn’t often when he asked.
You give him more than just a kiss. You lean in, your hand rests on his shoulder and kisses him a few times. Each time you pull away, you smile against his lips as you lean in for another one.
“I love you.” The declaration of love whispered against his lips as you placed another kiss there to seal it, let it seep into his skin, make it known to him you meant every word.
“I love you, too,” he murmurs, his thumb cradling your cheek.
You break your loving gaze from your husband to your daughter, her eyes wide as she stares at the both of you, mouth slightly agape as her brain tries to register the tender action her parents just shared. Kiyoomi’s ears are brushed with a pink tinge. Still blushing after almost being together for almost ten years? You want to say, but you bite your lip to prevent them from falling.
You laugh, light and airy as you kiss her forehead. “And I love you, Rina.”
You lift yourself from the floor, walking to the door and closing it behind. You try your best to suppress the stupid grin on your face, but fail miserably. You walk to the kitchen to make yourself coffee. You open the cabinet to get your mug and realize Kiyoomi put it on the top shelf once again. Attempting to get the mug yourself is a lost cause because he absolutely forbids it in the case you might hurt yourself.
You smile, but it falls from your face when your jaw begins to tense, letting you know you have been smiling so much to the point it hurts. Instead, you just let your lips tug at the ends.
You fervently wish he never stops surprising you. Routine is a part of Kiyoomi’s lifestyle and he enjoys the familiarity and repetition; it brings him comfort. It is easier for him to follow a paved road than a gravel path. How much of a surprise it was for him to include you into his routine and take the beaten path instead so he can see the flowers while walking side by side with you.
Repetition and changeability contrasts with each other like black and white, yin and yang, like the cherry blossom petals dancing in the spring air and the autumn leaves floating in the cool fall breeze, but when they are put together, it creates something beautiful and Kiyoomi is the embodiment of that strange yet beautiful combination.
sakusa’s the type of dad to be eating cereal with his daughter on a sunday morning with cartoons playing in the back, smiling when she tells him they’re almost out of cereal. “oh yeah? you gonna pay for it, or is that my job?” he teases her softly with a sly grin, “i don’t have any money!” she cries out through giggles. “oh yeah, i forgot. six year olds don’t usually have jobs, do they?”
practice
SYNOPSIS: it's the night before your wedding and — wait, should we just skip to the part where we kiss?
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, SUPER suggestive but nothing actually happens, sakusa is so in love but so is the reader so it all works out, warning: happy endings, atsumu is pissed lmao, 800 words!
“Should we practice?”
“Practice what?”
“Getting married.”
Egyptian cotton sheets, layers upon layers of mattress toppers, and memory-foam pillows that feel like literal clouds – KIYOOMI has the softest bed of anyone you’ve ever known. It engulfs you like quicksand, with no hope of escaping. You don’t want to.
“Okay,” you yawn, eyes still closed with your feet kicked up on the wall. “As long as I don’t have to get up.”
“You don’t have to.” He copies your yawn, knocking his foot against yours, “Because I sure as hell don’t want to either.”
That pulls a laugh from you, and Kiyoomi stretches his arm for what feels like miles to find your body buried somewhere in the comforter. He thwacks you in the face instead. You don’t even feel it.
“Ow.”
“Sorry, I was looking for your hand.” He finds it, then slots his fingers in the spaces between yours, squeezing lightly, “Found it.”
“You are so stupid.”
“Yeah,” He agrees easily, “But you’re the one marrying me. Which makes you stupid by association.”
You push your foot harder against his to establish dominance. Kiyoomi lets you, and his legs drag loudly down the wall before landing softly in the comforter. It makes a funny, airly little sound that makes you giggle. Your giggle makes Kiyoomi chuckle, until you’re laughing at the fact that he’s laughing, which in turn makes him laugh harder. He squeezes your hand, face flushed a strawberry red.
“Should we skip to the part when we kiss?” He whispers, and it sounds so far away, the baritones of his voice escaping you.
“Nah,” Somehow you find the energy to clamor onto him, collapsing your weight onto his lower half with an unattractive grunt. Something jumps to life beneath you, and you angle your hips in a way that makes Kiyoomi start to sweat. “I think we should skip to the consummation-of-marriage part. Right now.”
“Like, right now, right now?” Kiyoomi’s eyes are closed too, eyelids pressed shut like he’s dreaming. The faint smile on his face tells you that he is.
“Yes, like, right now, right now, right now.” You grin, making quick work of undoing the buttons of his now-wrinkled shirt.
“Okay.” He smiles harder, eyes still closed. Your fingers are moving so fast, “That tickles.”
It takes all of your focus to slip the ivory buttons through the narrow silk slits. You fumble with the same button repeatedly, your head so disconnected from your body. You don’t know how much time has passed since you first crawled into his lap, nor can you even recall how you ended up in bed with him.
You can feel your fingers moving, but you aren’t sure how to control the movement. You give up with a huff, “This isn’t working.”
“I can always keep my shirt on,” Kiyoomi hums, lifting his hands to fidget with the buttons of your pants. You’re straddling him in the way that makes his heart hammer in his chest, looking up at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky, “This, however, must be done away with.”
This would have been romantic if he could actually get your pants off. Unfortunately for both of you, Kiyoomi struggles equally as hard, the buttons of your dress pants can’t seem to stay in his grip. With a sigh, his hands drop. It takes everything in you to not laugh out loud.
He’s quiet when he asks, “Does the bed feel like it's rocking for you, too?”
“Yeah,” you decide, resting your hands on his covered stomach, where you didn’t quite make it far enough with the buttons, “I’m very drunk.”
“I’m very drunk, too.”
“I don’t think this is gonna work.” You reach to poke his cheek. He catches your hand before you can make it, pulling it to his lips to kiss your palm softly.
“I’m so drunk I don’t even care.”
“This was a terrible dress rehearsal.” You pull away your hand in favor of touching his hair. It was meant to annoy him, as Kiyoomi hates people messing with his curls, but he preens at the attention all the same, “It’s the night before our wedding and we didn’t even fuck.”
With one swift motion, Kiyoomi opens up his arms to pull you into his chest, then rolls over to trap you underneath him. He lands an obnoxious wet kiss on your cheek, smiling softly to himself at the sound of your laughing, “We’ll make up for it tomorrow night.”
You huff and push his face away. He nibbles at your fingers drunkenly. “Whatever.”
“Thanks for marrying me, by the way.”
“Whatever.”
Miya A [11:47]: WHERE ARE YOU Miya A [11:47]: WE CAN'T HAVE A BACHELOR PARTY WITH NO BACHELOR Miya A [00:13]: AND NOW NOBODY CAN FIND Y/N Miya A [00:20]: you fucking freaks i should have known you two would run away together Miya A [00:30]: THIS IS THE LAST TIME I DO ANYTHING NICE FOR YOU Miya A [00:30]: 🖕🖕🖕
hiiii so im not dead! just rly busy w classes/work/internships!
but i have a couple short stories like this that im gonna put out every week for fluff-tober! so uhhhh maybe i'll make a masterlist for that idk
love as always, niko