heathearnae

cuz im a feline feeling so curious (20)

[bokutoko]

APRICITY.

character: kiyoomi sakusa (timeskip!sakusa)

wc: 865

content/warning(s): soft!omi; when sakusa's own mind is his worst enemy, you are his deliverance.

a/n: this idea has been in my head for WEEKS.

The mixture of winter air and pure exhaustion crept into Sakusa’s bones, chilling him to the core. He let out a weary sigh, grateful for his mask providing a little warmth for his face.

Despite being known as one of the best and most powerful players in the volleyball world, there were rare moments where his mind was his most formidable opponent; where the small monsters of insecurity and fatigue ate away at his psyche until there was nothing left. His usual stamina that he’d always been praised for was gone—his body now in autopilot mode and running low on fumes. Weighing him down like one-ton bricks, lethargy flooded his being and caused all his thoughts to flatline, devoid of energy. 

As he opened the door to his apartment, nothing seemed more appealing to him than a shower and twelve hours of sleep. However, his body barely even had the strength to walk himself through the doorway and set his bag down, let alone stay awake long enough to shower, force himself to eat, and walk to his room for bed.

“‘Omi?” your sweet voice called from the kitchen. His half-lidded eyes fluttered closed with a sigh of relief, his body feeling slightly recharged just from knowing you were there. 

He trudged into the kitchen and leaned his head against the doorway as he watched you cook with your back to him. He observed how your hips casually swayed in time with the soft music playing in the background, listened to how you hummed along to your favorite parts. Focusing on you breathed some life back into his body, especially after such long and arduous days apart from you. 

You eventually looked back, sensing Sakusa’s presence in the kitchen. “Long week?”

All he did was nod with drooping eyes, barely registering that you removed his mask. “You’re freezing, ‘Omi,” you gently chided, slipping your hands into his to warm them up. Looking into his onyx eyes, you saw something foreign swirling within them, and you reached up to his face, running a gentle thumb over his cheek.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a voice barely above a whisper, as if you’d scare him away if you spoke any louder, “You look so troubled.”

He quietly nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his hands moving around your body to bring you close. The sudden physical affection was unlike Sakusa, but you welcomed it all the same. He reveled in your embrace; your arms were his sanctuary, always open to rescue him from himself.

“I’m so tired,” Sakusa’s words slurred into your skin, unfamiliar with feeling so raw, so vulnerable, “of everything.”

And that was what led him to now: him, standing undressed as you drew a bath.

The hot water slowly brought relief to his aching muscles and frigid bones as he slowly immersed himself in the bathtub. He let out a sigh, his head dropping back as he allowed himself to finally let go of the week’s stresses. You sat beside him, squeezing out a generous amount of his shampoo. He opened one eye, silently asking what you were doing.

“Please, let me take care of you,” you requested, moving to kneel behind him, and he gave a small nod.

With the scent of lavender flooding his senses and the feeling of your hands in his curls, Sakusa’s mind went silent once again, but now for a much different reason. The serenity of your touch, the comfort of your presence, was his salvation. His body was no longer cold, like a corpse, but felt warm, thawing from the rays of sunshine that beamed from your soul. 

Your fingers slowly massaged his scalp, making sure to do your best to knead his troubles away. You leaned in to the shell of his ear, whispering, “Is this okay?” He gave another small nod in response, his eyes now fully closed.

With a small smile, you continued washing his hair for several minutes longer, hoping your actions were at least a little relaxing. 

But you didn’t see how you practically revived Sakusa’s frozen heart, how you brought color back into his face. You made him feel at peace, leading him to believe that true love was real—that love was meant for him too.

What on earth did he do to deserve you?

“Thank you,” he whispered, slowly surrendering to sleep, “I love you.” His eyelids were so heavy, his words barely coherent. He didn’t even realize he said it: those three powerful words. 

As you rinsed out his hair, you couldn’t fight off the smile that made your face hurt or the blush that made your cheeks burn scarlet. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

While snuggling in your shared bed, Sakusa relished the heat of your body against his. With a soft gaze, you looked up and took his face in your hands. You leaned in, your lips grazing his forehead: one kiss on each freckle. Breathing in his lavender scent, you contentedly sighed, “I love you too, ‘Omi. Goodnight.”

Sakusa knew that no matter what freezing darkness tried to overwhelm him, you—his dayspring—would always be there to shine his way back home.

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[asunflowerana]

eye candy — Sakusa Kiyoomi

summary: only you have kiyoomi's heart. and he'll make sure every single one knows that.

It's lunch break, and Kiyoomi peacefully savors his beef stew, his cousin making him company as usual, sitting beside him at the table far from the noisy students. Among the cafeteria, comments about the next volleyball match can be heard, especially with the semifinals of the spring tournament qualifiers, wondering if the team’s star will keep up with his performance or fail to give the school another victory.

What does he think about their opinion? 

Well, actually, he just doesn't care. 

Sakusa doesn’t play to get fan’s approval or popularity: he plays because he enjoys what he does. Being noticed is just an effect of his efforts to become a professional someday, and even though the spotlight brings some benefits, he wouldn’t mind if his whole fanclub disappeared suddenly. Most of their support is superficial and sham, too shallow for his liking. 

Who truly matters to Omi is those who have always been there for him, way before his rise. Like you, for example. 

His favorite fan.

He cares for you so, so much, in a way he never imagined he could do it. It’s strange, now thinking of it, how someone so skeptical about love before now does anything possible to show you how much he appreciates your existence, and how grateful he is for being yours, and for having the honor of calling you his. 

If it depends on Sakusa, this will remain for the rest of his life.

Motoya’s a front row spectator of your relationship, being there since the moment you and his cousin first interacted with each other, you politely asking to borrow one of his pens in History class. Imagine the blonde’s shock when he saw Omi not cleaning the pen after you’ve returned.

He was the first one to hear about the brunette's feelings, the one who helped him pick the first date place, the flowers, the gifts, even the dorky letters Omi sent to your address, wanting to be different from the usual texting-guys. If there’s one person in the world who knows how crazy in love Sakusa Kiyoomi is for you, it’s Motoya. He isn’t bothered at all, having a lot of fun every time he watches his cousin getting all doki doki whenever you’re around.

And how protective he gets when you’re not. 

“Sakusa.” A girl suddenly approaches their table, her sultry but invasive voice interrupting the chewing of both cousins. If Motoya’s not mistaken, this girl is Tai, one of Class D students. He secretly grimaces, already predicting the reason she came to talk to Omi, like all the other girls that has been crushing on his cousin. 

Poor girl.

Kiyoomi doesn’t even look up from his food, preparing a spoon full of vegetables. “Yes?”

“Um-” She fidgets a little with the disinterest in his tone, but a charming smile appears on her face nonetheless. Oh, she’s trying hard. “I just came to wish you a good game this Friday. I’ll be cheering for you on the stands.”

“Hmmm.” He doesn’t even hide his boredom, contemplating the pleasing taste of the seasoned stew. He hopes the staff used gloves while preparing it this time. “Didn’t know you were part of the cheer’s team.” 

“N-no!” She chuckles a little too loud, trying to hide her nervousness. “I’m not part of the team. I just… I wanted to cheer just for you, you know? Give you some boost for the game.”

Unfortunately for her, this time he raises his gaze until it finds her anxious eyes, which averts when they notice the unpleasant frown on his face. “Boost? Do you think I need your cheers to play well?”

“N-not at all. But, you know, having an eye candy could help you play even better.”

Motoya snorts loudly, not being able to hold how impressed he is by the girl’s dumb confidence. Is she that clueless? Sakusa has been dating you for almost six months, there’s no way she doesn’t know by now that he’s taken. He watches as his cousin stares at her for a few uncomfortable seconds, his cold glare making even him uncomfortable. Thank goodness, he is not the target this time.

“I don’t see any eye candy here.” Short and frank, Omi answers her move.

Tai looks clearly dejected, but she took the hint that insisting wouldn’t do any good to her side. To lessen the embarrassing moment, she nods at him, pretending his words didn’t have an effect on her heart, and she offers him a brief goodbye before rushing away from their table, shoulders slowly falling with shame.

“Oof, that one hurted.” Motoya breaks the silence, his eyes widening as he checks his wristwatch. “Twenty-five seconds! It’s your new ditch record, Omi-kun.”

Sakusa rolls his eyes at his comment, having another spoon of his stew “She's been trying that for weeks. She even knows ______.”

“Well, I think she got the message now.” The blonde chuckles, eyes twinkling as he spots you entering the cafeteria right after his comment. He raises his left hand and waves at you with a smile, succeeding in catching your attention.. “And look who’s coming to the party.”

From his cousin's excited tone, Omi has a pretty good guess on who he’s referring to, and he instinctively searches through the crow to check it out. It’s amazing how Omi’s semblance lights up when he sees you. The transformation is visible, and if he could, Motoya would totally take a picture of his cousin’s starstruck face right now.

“Hey guys!” You greet them as soon as you get closer, and your boyfriend immediately takes a chair from the closest table and arranges beside him for you to sit on. Motoya holds back a laugh, and you thank him with a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Omi.”

Hearts could come out of Sakusa’s eyes.

“You’re so beautiful today.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, making you giggle in that sweet way that makes his heart flutter every single time.

“Okay lover, you can go back to eat, she won’t go anywhere.” His cousin cracks a joke, but the brunette doesn’t even pay attention to his words, choosing to focus on you instead.

The displays of affection don’t stop, and he doesn’t even notice how sappy (but sweet) he’s being with you. He holds your hand on top of the table, absently stroking your skin with his thumb and occasionally kissing the back of it; he nuzzles your head when you cuddle his arm, loving to smell the scent of your shampoo; he looks at you intently as you speak about your last class, paying attention to every word that comes out of your pretty mouth like it’s the most important speech he’s ever heard.

Motoya doesn’t know if he looks the other way in disgust, or if he just smiles, happy that his cousin has finally found someone special for him. Or if he takes some pictures of sweet Omi, which would be a good opportunity to make fun of him later.

“Okay guys, I’ll catch up with you later.” The blonde announces, figuring you’d better have your privacy; being the third wheel can be really tiring sometimes.“ Omi, see you at the warm-up. Enjoy your time together, lovebirds.” The blonde leaves, leaving the two of you more comfortable getting closer to each other. Omi kisses your cheek sweetly before caressing it with his palm.

“Will you watch the match today?” He questions, loving the idea of spotting your beautiful self in the middle of the game. 

The question sounds a little strange to your ears, because you almost never lose his games. But you choose to answer regardless, caressing his scalp full of curly locks, to his delight. “Yes, of course I’ll be there.”

“Good.” A small smile of his grows with your touch. “I need my eye candy.”

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[emmyrosee]

tw // jokes about being tied up, jokes about "kidnapping," all for the sake of comedy. no kiyoomis were harmed in the making of this post ❤️

-----

“I have a plan.”

Kiyoomi chuckles softly as his thumb continues to scroll through his phone, the other gently rubbing back and forth over your shoulder. Your legs are tossed over his lap, arms around him, while his free arm encases you in a loving, safe hug.

Silence fills the room, a lightness to the air that only comes from your sacred time together, time where there’s no Miya barking in his ear, or Bokuto excitedly yelling. Time where your own boss isn’t in your mind, time where your thoughts are only filled with each other and only each other.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my plan?” You ask.

He shakes his head and juts out his lower lip in thought, “nah. No, I’m good with just lettin’ you think.” When you reach up to grab his lower lip, he tucks it away, “oh my god, fine, what is your plan?”

You smile sweetly up at him and curl deeper into his side. He, taking your bait, puts his phone away and cradles your body, his head resting against yours and holding you as close as his long arms can gather.

You press a kiss to his neck, and the tender skin there bursts out in goosebumps from the unfamiliar sensation, skin that probably should be used to your affections by now, but perhaps that means you should just do it more.

“Okay,” you sigh happily. “Here’s my plan.”

“Go for it.”

“I’m gonna tie you up-“

“Dear god, not where I thought you were going, okay.”

“-and lock you in the attic, so like, no one can see you, except me and your family.”

“I’m glad you’re allowing my family to see me,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “but you can’t kidnap me.”

“It’s not kidnapping,” you defend. “It’s tactile hiding.”

“Okay, it still sounds sketchy and illegal,” he snorts. “You can dice it however you want. What about my team?”

“You’re trying to convince me to not kidnap you and you use your job as a defense?” You scoff. “They see you sweaty and perfect and handsome every single day, what if Meian steals you from me?”

He laughs softly at your words, pulling back to look at you sweetly, "sometimes, I would love to hear what goes through your head when you look at me that conjures such feral thoughts."

"Aw, sweetie," you coo, kissing his jawline. "No you don't."

"You're right, no I don't."

[gabseyoo]

HEELS — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: msby!kiyoomi, female reader, established relationship, fluff, kiyoomi carries reader. word count: 0,4k.

note: more boyfriend kiyoomi because i love him.

“I told you.” Kiyoomi said, his tone laced with amused exasperation as he adjusted his grip, carrying you effortlessly toward the car.

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “You can’t say I didn’t look stunning.” You reached up and lightly tapped his cheek, your playful tone softening his mock annoyance.

Tonight was a gala dinner hosted by the V League, which you saw as the perfect night to wear your new heels that were waiting for their moment to shine. It must be said that you completely ignored your boyfriend when he told you to be sure to bring a spare pair of shoes, since he didn’t think you would last long in those heels since you would have to be on your feet for so long. 

“You still look stunning.” He replied, mimicking your gesture by gently patting his fingers against your leg. “As stunning as you would’ve looked even with crocs.”

You cringed at the mental image. “Crocs with this dress? I don’t think so.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, I’m serious this time. This is the last time I’m carrying you.”

“You always say that.”

“And you always conveniently ‘forget’ to bring spare shoes.”

“Maybe I just like being carried.” You said with a smirk, resting your head against his shoulder.

Kiyoomi glanced down at you, his grin widening. “You know, I’m starting to think you wear those heels on purpose. Just for this.”

“I made it that obvious?”

“Kinda.” He admitted, his voice warm and teasing.

“Well—” You said with mock seriousness. “If you’re really done carrying me, I guess I’ll have to start packing flats in my bag.”

“Let’s be honest—” He said, his smirk turning into a full smile. “You know I’ll carry you to the car every time, no matter what.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think it over. “True. It’s a good system we’ve got here.”

Kiyoomi laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Yeah, a system where you get spoiled and I get stuck as the chauffeur-slash-pack mule.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.” You teased, brushing your lips against his jaw in a fleeting kiss.

“I better have a reward when we get home.” He whispered with his lips against your cheek in an undeniably flirtatious tone. 

“I already have a few ideas.” 

“Fine.” He murmured, his steps slowing as you reached the car. “But next time, I’m picking the shoes. Deal?”

“Deal.” You said with a laugh, though you couldn’t help but add, “Just don’t even think about crocs.”

“Too bad.” He teased as he set you down gently. “They’re already in my cart.”

[chxyomi]

SOMETIMES...

Haikyuu!! x Reader Series Episode 2: Sweet Tooth! PAIRING: Sakusa Kiyoomi x gn! Reader

Synopsis: When people encounter Sakusa Kiyoomi in bakeries, or pastry shops, or even cafes, they assume He's the type to order himself a box of sugar free cookies, or those no carb breads, and the very famous black coffee, no sugar, no creamer, that was probably made from organic coffee beans and pressed using a vintage coffee maker. What they don't know is that he was recovering from an addiction for sweets. But every once in while, Sakusa like to sneak in chocolate bars into his lunch without you knowing. You know how the saying goes: "You can take the sweets away from the man but you can't take the man away from the sweets." Contents: Silly Sakusa, he just wants his sweets. fluff, crack, sneaking, his team jokes about him having an affair, you have a silly little back and forth but laugh about it in the end, suggestive in the end (??)

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Sweets are a staple element in a child's nonage. To some, it calms them in times they desire to feel the reminder of home. To others, it's a source of adrenaline and energy.

Not to Sakusa and his family. Especially when his father forbade them to consume anything sweet in large amounts. Maybe a small slice of cake in events or a few pieces of candy once a month. But he always makes sure they brush their teeth, floss, and mouth wash before every bedtime. And of course, water intake was a must to flush it down.

They were never really the good ones. Kiyoomi, even after being graced by their taste, never truly saw the wonders of sweets due to his father's... Personal preference for them.

When you started dating Sakusa during your first year in highschool, he made it known to you that he wasn't a fan of sweets. And you understood that. You happily took the sweets his other admirers would give him, making sure to drink lots of water after eating them per Sakusa's request.

That was until the 7th month of your relationship when Sakusa was experiencing drawbacks from starting up late due to developing a mild case of insomnia. He tried drinking coffee, bathing in an ice cold shower, tried eating spicy and minty foods throughout the day but to no avail, he just keeps falling asleep every 10 minutes.

As a person with a sweet tooth yourself, you've experienced a few moments of sugar rush after eating a chocolate bar that usually lasted for the day. That or your simply were energetic as it is.

When Sakusa groans in exhaustion, burying his head in his hands as you two say in the cafeteria, you can't help but frown at his misery. "No sleep again, Kiyo?"

"Please don't ask me that when it's obvious."

You laugh awkwardly before sighing. Sakusa lifts his head just slightly to peak at you through his curls. "I'm sorry, that was mean."

This time, you laugh genuinely, softer than the first. You suddenly realize you had a snickers bar in your bag. Sakusa watches in curiosity as you rummage through your bag with a concentrated face. He huffs a laugh, finally lifting his head up.

Sliding down the chocolate bar, he raises an eyebrow. "Is this suppose to cheer me up? You know I don't like sweets."

"No, I know."

"Why give it to me?"

"It should wake you up, just this once."

Glares of disbelief are thrown your way like daggers. But seeing this method usually works for you, it should work for him, too. His fingers gingerly take the packet, tearing it open. It looked so sickeningly sweet, he thinks.

You almost laugh at his disgusted expression.

Once he finishes the chocolate bar and downs half a bottle of water to refresh himself from the sharpness of the sweet, it only takes less than 15 minutes to push a sugar rush to his brain.

He worked efficiently that day, even accepted an extra nine sets from practice without tiring himself in the slightest.

You remember that day from 7 years ago clearly. The day Sakusa Kiyoomi's addiction for sweets overtook him ultimately.

You also remember the day he regretted listening to you about that too.

Two years ago, Kiyoomi experienced a pain like no other. At the ripe age of 23, he had the misfortune of losing one of his wisdom tooth. How could you forget the way he glared at you for days on end with an ice-pack on the left side of his face.

Since then, Sakusa never touched a piece of sweets in all forms. Not that you know of.

Sometimes, he still tempted by the caramel drizzle on a piece of mocha cake. The chocolate chips on the mini muffins still look aesthetically appetizing. The mousse on the biscoff frappe still makes his mouth water.

There are times he's unbelievably and surprisingly late for practice. These are the also times he makes his way to your favorite cafe to buy his usual box of chocolate-filled cookies. There are also times he orders these treats online, delivered outside the gym doors.

Atsumu notes that Sakusa gets jumpy when he arrives to practice. Bokuto notices the way he's always in his phone, tapping and scrolling away; sometimes, he'd even giggle and smile before abruptly going cold again. Hinata's no stranger to the specifc woman who visits him with a smile for two weeks, every Tuesday and Saturday, with a box wrapped in a pink ribbon.

About three weeks of observation, Atsumu gets sick of this affair. He can't believe Sakusa's been cheating on such a wonderful person like you! But his eyes can't deceive him now when it's happened in front of him and his teammates not once, not twice, but more than ten times now!

And as the faux blond gets sick of this ordeal, he along with Bokuto and Hinata have decided it was time to end Sakusa's trickery.

The plan was simple.

Bokuto would fetch you from you apartment complex, bring you to the gymnasium and at exactly 4 p.m., you would see just how much of an asshole Sakusa Kiyoomi is to ever fumble you. And if that somehow doesn't work, Atsumu has prepared a fool-proof back-up to collect enough evidence for your freedom.

And so it goes as planned. Laid before you as you sat in Bokuto's passenger seat is Kiyoomi greeted by a woman who hands him a neatly packed box with the pink ribbon Shoyo described.

When Kiyoomi enters the gym again, Bokuto is quick to pull you out of the passenger seat. Upon your arrival Atsumu is already spouting out accusations about Sakusa's affair to which the latter denies. Hinata is right behind the blond, swiping through a tablet with multiple pictures of Sakusa's alleged affair.

You burst into laughter hearing Sakusa almost fail to defend himself which sends him spiraling. "When did you get here?!" He asks accusingly, hiding the box of muffins behind him.

"What are ya hiding, huh, Omi? Another lunch box from yer little sidechick? 'Fess up!" Atsumu points a finger, inches away from his face, which Sakusa slaps away with a glare. "Ahhh! He touched me with a cheating virus! I can't be a cheater, I love my partner!"

"Quick! Wash your hands, Tsumu-kun!" Bokuto panics, backing away.

"I've got alcohol! Here, Miya-san! Catch!" Hinata tosses a bottle of rubbing alcohol his way, hitting his head which earns a loud whine from the setter.

Sakusa sneers at their antics, sighing heavily before he looks at you guiltily. "Look, angel, I can explain."

Crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at him, you wait for his explanation. Though you can't stop the smile that creeps on your lips. "Yeah, explain, Omi-kun!" Atsumu demands from behind him, furiously rubbing his hands and arms with the sanitizer.

"I..." Sakusa starts only to purse his lips again. He hesitates before walking towards you with a guilty expression. "I've been visiting Mrs. Fukunaga and buying a few treats every week."

The gym goes silent before you burst into another fit of laughter. "You're into older women now?" You coax him, slapping his chest lightly.

"Don't say it like I'm cheating!"

The three dumbfoundedly stares as they watch you continue to laugh at Sakusa's misery. "Angel, please." He starts to beg you to stop only for it to compel your laughter more.

"Kiyo, I thought you gave up on sweets after you lost one of your wisdom teeth?"

"Yes, but they're just too enticing."

You exhale deeply, taking the box from his hand and inhaling in the warm aroma of the freshly baked muffins. "You blamed me for your pain, by the way. No sweets for you."

"You are to blame. Besides, that's my money."

You raise an eyebrow at him, tilting your head as if to remind him to choose his next words carefully.

"I'm to blame." He corrects himself quickly.

"Wait, wait, wait. So is Omi-san cheating on you or not?" Hinata suddenly speaks up. "I'm not cheating!" Sakusa defends himself one more.

You hum for a moment, thinking about your answer. Kiyoomi looks at you in disbelief. "Why are you thinking about it?!"

"I mean, in a way you are cheating. Cheating your diet, that is."

"Unbelievable, Omi-kun." Bokuto shakes his head, picking Atsumu up from the floor by his back collar with ease. "And here you were advocating a healthy lifestyle through healthy diets. To think that I believed you."

Yet another groan leaves Sakusa's lips, the 5th time that day.

"How long have you been buying sweets behind my back?"

"... A month now."

"A month?!"

"I don't eat all of it! Sometimes I give the rest to our cleaner for her grandkids or the landlord for his kids. Or that freshman who lives in the room across from us."

Sakusa's hand twitches before he holds your hand, frowning guiltily. "I'm sorry, I've been keeping it from you, angel. I just felt guilty about all of this. You'd never let it go if I admitted to still liking sweets."

Atsumu points another finger his way, yelling once more. "Don't let the secret keeper touch you, Y/n-chan!" Sakusa glares at his accusation, but turns back to you with pleading eyes.

You nod. "You're right. I wouldn't let it go."

He sneers the confession.

"But." You start, lifting your hand to caress his face softly, "maybe we can minimize the sweets. For your health. And your brand. You're an ambassador for a food supplement and you're out here eating sweets most likely everyday."

Sakusa melts in your touch, lifting his free hand to rest on top of yours over his cheek, "I can think of ways to settle my sugar fix." He speaks once more, his voice lowering into a more sultry tone.

"Yeah, how's that?"

He pulls you closer by the waist. "We can start with a kiss, maybe?"

"EW! Get a room, freaks!"

Author's notes: two is my very own husband, Sakusa Kiyoomi! He has a sweet tooth, I just know it. Probably was deprived of it as a child— Assuming his family are all doctors from various headcanons, I'd like to think one of them is a dentist; most probably his dad— so when he finally gets his hands on a chocolate bar for the first time, he's addicted. 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝: 7.11.25 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝: 10.14.25

© all rights reserved to @chxyomi 2025

[dearru]

addict | k.sakusa

pairing: sakusa x gn!reader | sfw | genre: fluff | wc: 217 | masterlist

you may be addicted to kissing kiyoomi sakusa.

but could anyone really blame you? you’re enamored by the taste of his minty mouthwash, and how the herbal scent of his aftershave tickles your nose when you lean in close. the feeling of his lips, wonderfully soft from the meticulous care he shows to his body, press against yours and sing to you like a prayer. it’s addicting.

they say moles are indicators of where your lover kissed you most in a past life, and if that was true, his future self would have far more to worry about than the two that currently reside on his forehead.

you’ll make sure of it.

you used to wonder if he cared about you, back before you two were anything at all. but now, it’s hard to imagine a world where you were ever unsure of his love. how could you have ever questioned his devotion? you certainly couldn’t now with the way his arms, reverent and gentle, capture you in a warm embrace every time you touch.

loving sakusa is as simple as breathing, and kissing him only drives you further into the depths of your adoration.

so, if you’re a little obsessed with the drunken feeling associated with kissing him, you’ll be happy to be labeled an addict.

—a/n: we r so back. i don’t rlly write for sakusa, but i was struck w random inspiration so we ball. wrote this in one go as a way to warm back up to writing so hopefully it’s somewhat coherent. also, hopefully i can post more since im on break from uni :3

[cosmic-evening]

everyone knew that SAKUSA KIYOOMI was a neat-freak.

he always kept a bottle of hand sanitiser in his pocket, and a pack of face masks in his bag. no-one dared to even touch him or hand him anything unclean.

but with you, he changed.

although he made sure you had sanitised first, he would hold your hand everywhere—on your dates, he'd have his hand atop yours on the restaurant table. he'd even let you lean your head on his shoulder on the train, or when you were watching a movie at home.

for you, sakusa kiyoomi would do anything.

hq m.list | gen m.list

[haikyu-mp4]

Suspected proposal

"Did you hear about Sakusa? He proposed to his long-term girlfriend today! But I’m not judging or anything!" – @kittygirl11829 for my Gossip Event.

word count; 834 – f!reader

The first one to become suspicious of a possible proposal was Hinata. He just so happened to look over Sakusa’s shoulder while the black-haired man looked at diamond rings on his phone. Unfortunately, he had switched it off the second he realised he wasn’t alone, and not another word was spoken about it.

Atsumu was next because of a certain look on Sakusa’s face as of late. It made him look restless, which wasn’t normal for him. It wasn’t that he didn’t focus on practices anymore, but something else seemed to be on his mind as well.

Bokuto didn’t really put two and two together himself, but when Atsumu brought up his information, the owl shared that he had seen Sakusa at the jeweller the week before, and he couldn’t believe he didn’t say hi!

No doubt, Sakusa would be proposing to his girlfriend. 

You’ve been dating Sakusa for a long time, ever since your first year of university. This means you also developed close friendships with all of your boyfriend’s friends. Therefore, the three suspicious MSBY boys snuck up to Sakusa after practice one day (meaning they ran over and cornered him so he couldn’t run away) with the wish to participate in making you say yes. 

“Are you proposing to y/n?” Atsumu and Hinata asked him, just like they rehearsed, however-

“CAN WE HELP WITH THE PROPOSAL?” Bokuto was practically bouncing with excitement.

Atsumu turned to him with a frown. “I thought we agreed to be demure and mindful.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes and sighed, unsure if he was ready for his own answer. “I would like your help with my proposal.”

The three were silenced as they looked at Sakusa in surprise, making him squirm under their gazes.

“You asked.”

Hinata was the first to recover. “What do you need?”

Sakusa smiled, not big but it was definitely something. “I know she’d love to have different angles to choose from for the proposal video. Can you three spread out and film it?”

In near-perfect sync, the three volleyball players clicked their heels together and saluted him. “Sir, yes sir!”

You had no idea Sakusa wanted to propose to you today. It wasn’t uncommon for him to invite you to a fancy restaurant, asking you to dress up with him and take some time off to just be together and have good food.

This time shouldn’t have been any different.

The only peculiar thing was the head of bright orange hair that almost blended in with the flower arrangements. And the grey hair that zoomed past the window earlier before someone in a hoodie and black mask asked for a table. And the bleach blonde hair peeking out from that guy in the corner’s cap while he played on his phone without ordering any food.

Why are Sakusa’s friends here?

Still, no matter how suspicious you were, you gasped in shock when Sakusa got out of his chair and knelt beside you on one knee, holding up a little velvet box with a gorgeous ring. Your eyes brimmed with happy tears as he nervously recited his speech.

“You are already such an integral part of my life. You make every day better, and I want to spend every moment with you by my side. I want to call you my wife, or fiancé for now. You mean more to me than life itself and I will dedicate every second of the rest of my life to making you happy if you would do me the honour of marrying me.”

You were breathless, barely remembering that you should probably answer him.

“Yes! I’ll marry you, I’ll marry you a thousand times!”

The whole restaurant erupted in cheers, and the loudest was from your three dear friends (who were clearly more used to standing out in a crowd than hiding in it, which should become a funny story for the future).

w: this last part is suggestive

After making your way home, nothing could keep your hands off each other. That dedication for the rest of his life started right now as he took his sweet time decorating your skin in sensual kisses, lifting your arm so he could trail them all the way to your new ring.

“Sakusa y/n.”

“I think I doodled that in my notebook once,” you purred, thinking back to the days when you stared at the back of his head in class.

“You have bewitched me,” he accused with a dopey smile, hands sneaking around you to unzip your dress.

“Body and soul,” you whispered before once again capturing his lips in a kiss.

Bokuto, Hinata and Atsumu totally misread the situation, and realised so as they came up to your house door and heard you moaning Sakusa’s name a little too loud for it to be anything other than…“Let’s drink at mine instead,” Atsumu announced, already turning around and rushing off, careful with the six-pack of beer he carried in each hand. You would be having a private celebration for now.

masterlist

[dearru]

unspoken | k.sakusa

pairing: kiyoomi sakusa x gn!reader | sfw | cw: none | genre: fluff | wc: 390 | mlist

synopsis -> sakusa loves you, and you love him

“Y’know, you’re kind of beautiful, Kiyoomi.”

He blinks at you, caught off guard, “What?”

Your lips turn into a slight smile, “Yeah! You’ve got this sort of...” You pause to consider your thoughts for a moment, snapping your fingers as you search for the word, “Elegant aura about you. It’s so effortless, like you don’t even have to try.”

“Elegant?” He echoes, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, like a gazelle.” You giggle, causing his heart to speed up at the sight of your blushed lips curving into a soft grin. You laugh with such ease, like being around him is the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

He blinks at you, unsure of how to react. You’d always been the more forward one in the relationship; unafraid of bold declarations and the inevitable consequences that follow them. It’s one of the things that Kiyoomi liked most about you— your unapologetic authenticity.

You give him such peace of mind and cause him to act so out of character, that he supposes this uncharacteristic feeling of complete adoration is what causes him to ask, “Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

It’s a hopeful inquiry, and also rather embarrassing. If he were with anyone else, he’d be mortified to ask for the compliment to be repeated, but because it’s you— he wants to hear you say it until your voice gives out.

Humming, you smile wider, poking his cheek, “I do. You’re so beautiful, it makes me want to put you in a museum or something.”

“Oh,” he blinks, letting his long eyelashes flutter against his face, “Thanks, I guess.” His head turns away from yours for a moment after he mutters the quick expression of gratitude.

Despite being your boyfriend, he’s not used to the feeling of being loved so loudly. It’s difficult to comprehend. It’s still unnerving to be the target of all your affection, and he’s sure you can tell— but you don’t seem to mind.

In response to his bashfulness, you smile again. You kiss his forehead, then his cheek, then his lips— and it’s all Kiyoomi can do to prevent himself from turning red all over. That’s another thing he adores about you, how hard you love him despite all he leaves unspoken.

He doesn’t have to say anything for you to know he thinks you’re beautiful too.

—a/n: im sorry for never posting!! i’ve been rlly under the weather + traveling since the new year started. here is an old draft to satiate u guys. ty @sahrii for reading it to make sure it’s coherent!

[deardaichi]

for @celestial-cosmica <3 | event masterpost

sakusa stands in front of you, towel around his neck, fingertips brushing lightly at his side.

you’re half-sunk into your beach chair, finishing off the last of your vanilla and peach mojito when he says, almost reluctantly, “i think i have… a mark.”

you look up. “a mark?”

he shifts, turning just enough to show you. there—on the side of his stomach—is a pale imprint in the shape of a seashell, stamped clearly against sun-warmed skin.

“oh my god,” you say, sitting up. “is that from earlier?”

he nods once, eyes flicking to yours, then back down. “i didn’t notice it was still there when i fell asleep.”

you bite back a grin. “you stayed that still?”

“guess i did.”

he sounds almost unsure — not embarrassed, exactly, but aware. aware that you’re looking, that your eyes haven’t left the shell mark yet.

“it’s not bad,” you say gently. “just…very specific.”

sakusa is quiet for a second. then: “i don’t mind.”

you raise an eyebrow.

he exhales, soft through his nose. “it reminds me of you.”

you blink.

“you always pick them up,” he adds, glancing toward the shore where a few scattered shells still glint in the sun. “thought it was kind of fitting.”

you don’t answer right away. just reach out and let your fingers graze the edge of the imprint, careful, brief.

he catches your hand — the one still hovering near his side. his fingers curl gently around yours, warm and steady, and he presses a soft kiss to the back of it without looking up.

then he sits beside you in the shade, close enough that your legs touch.

and neither of you mention the seashell again. but it stays there — faint, quiet, and entirely on purpose. like him.

© everything here is written with care — please don’t repost, copy, or alter my work without permission.

[luvzayne]

is your girlfriend single?

characters: ushijima, iwaizumi, sakusa

warnings: timeskip! also not beta-ed

note/s: i do not feel like writing a new piece rn so here's a lil repost from my old account (2)

(suna, atsumu, bokuto)

ushijima:

ushijima tried his hardest not to look as if he wasn't bored in the ongoing interview. well, he wasn't. but he has been told by their manager that his resting face looks very unapproachable.

he was fiddling with his fingers as the rest of his team members were answering fan questions. letting out a small smile whenever he finds some questions funny and the way that kourai reacts overdramatically. 

"ah, here's a question for big boy, wakatoshi!" kourai announced as he squinted his eyes on the influx of questions.

"yes?" ushijima responded, sitting up a bit more upright. 

"is your girlfriend single?" kourai bit his lip as he tried not to laugh at the question. 

the spiker furrowed his eyebrows in thought. 

"i do not have a girlfriend." was all he said.

the atmosphere was silent as the rest of his team looked at him in shock and mostly worry.

ushijima noticed and looked around the room to see the camera staff and team looking at him. 

"what?" 

"you just said..." kageyama trailed off, hesitant to continue. 

"you broke it off with (y/n)?!" kourai interrupted. 

ushijima frowned, as if that was the most absurd thing he heard.

"(y/n) and i are happily engaged. she is my fiancé." ushijima said plainly, as if he didn't just cause the live chat box to spam with shocked and congratulatory messages.

"and you didn't tell us?!" if anyone was the most offended, it would be kourai.

"i thought the ring was obvious. kageyama has told me it looked nice." the team's heads whipped to kageyama who spluttered on how he didn't know it was an engagement ring. 

ushijima hummed. "it seems like i have not announced this." 

"you think?" he hears kourai's retort but pretended not to.

"me and (y/n) are engaged, therefore, she is now my fiance and not my girlfriend." ushijima said to the camera. "i hope this clarifies my answer." a few more questions were answered, mostly questions in regards to you and ushijima’s engagement before the staff announced that the livestream was over.

“that was a terrible way of announcing that you are engaged.” he hears his captain mutter. ushijima nodded in acknowledgement before heading home to you who was waiting to scold him after watching the livestream. 

iwaizumi: 

the trainer didn’t know how he was roped into answering WIRED questions when he wasn’t the one in court. he was already halfway when the staff gave him a new board but he was shocked to see that it was filled with questions not about him, but about you.

“your fans wanted to know about your relationship with (y/n).” hoots from outside the camera’s view were heard, iwaizumi internally sighed, knowing that this would be fuel for the team to tease their trainer.

“let’s get this over with.” the trainer says before ripping the first tape from the board. “is iwaizumi’s girlfriend… staged?” he gave a deadpan expression to the camera. 

“(y/n) has been with me since we were third years, waited for me to return to japan after leaving for california and is currently living with me in our apartment. yes, our relationship is staged.” iwaizumi said sarcastically as he held the second tape by his fingertips. 

“is iwaizumi’s girlfriend… oikawa’s ex. what?” he didn’t know whether the staff is being serious as he gave another unimpressed look.

“no, i’m her first boyfriend and the last.” he smirked at his promise, the staff already knew that that alone will become a trending snippet. 

he answered a few more questions in haste, don’t get him wrong. he loves you but he would rather keep details about your relationship private. 

“aight, last one.” iwaizumi ripped the last piece of tape off the board. 

“is iwaizumi’s girlfriend… single?” he raised a brow at that question. 

“where the hell are you getting these questions?” iwaizumi asked rhetorically. “these are the most searched questions about your girlfriend.” one of the staff answered him. 

iwaizumi shook his head in disbelief. “wow… you’d think people actually unironically search for this.” he cleared his throat before looking straight at the camera. 

“i’m going to say this for the last time. my girlfriend isn’t single and won’t be for the longest time before i make her my wife.” iwaizumi stated, voice clear as if he was determined. 

the staff were clearly having a field day, knowing how much this episode will trend because of how whipped and dedicated the sought out trainer was for you. 

the interview ended shortly.  iwaizumi thanked the staff for having him only to be bombarded with a lot of comments filled with adoration towards your relationship. the trainer smiled before finishing up and heading home. 

“you look happy.” you greet him by the door, iwaizumi scoffed playfully before pulling you by your waist and placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“of course i am, i come home to you.” iwaizumi thought of the comments from the staff, ‘marry her.’ was the comment that stuck to his mind. 

he already had the ring in the bottom drawer, tucked away by his socks. 

sakusa:

sakusa supposes that being an athlete involved having to deal with interviews. well, interviews that came with the sport, not whatever their team was currently doing. 

sakusa, atsumu, hinata, and bokuto were sat down on chairs, a small metal bucket in the middle of them filled with numerous pieces of papers, printed tweets, to be exact. 

“ooh, this is a good one! were bokuto and hinata close before msby?” bokuto read aloud before beaming at the camera and recollecting the memories from when they were in highschool. 

“fun fact! we all knew each other in some way, waaaay back in high school.” bokuto said before atsumu and sakusa nodded in confirmation. 

sakusa looked at the bucket as his teammates plucked random pieces of papers and answering them with ease. “why are sakusa’s wrists so flexible? please he could like… slap me and i would feel it twice in one motion. great, now all i’m thinking about it sakusa slapping me.” atsumu read aloud, voice turning a mocking pitch at the last sentence. 

“it’s called hypermobility-”  he paused as he saw bokuto and hinata look at him curiously. “otherwise known as being double-jointed. and no, i will not slap you. next tweet, please.”

“how boring, omi.” atsumu teased, sakusa rolled his eyes at the setter. “next. tweet.” 

“okay, okay. calm down.” atsumu surrendered, bokuto plucked another piece of paper before reading it out loud. 

“is sakusa’s girlfriend single? because i saw her in msby’s game against raijins and damn. if sakusa doesn’t wife her up immediately then i would gladly do the honors.” the whole room went silent after bokuto read the paper. the spiker’s eyes widened as he looked towards sakusa. 

“i was only reading the tweet!” 

“no. she isn’t, next question.” was only sakusa’s answer. his voice left no room for argument as atsumu hastily grabbed another piece of paper, moving on from the previous tweet. 

the team believed that due to sakusa’s reaction, that segment would be removed. but to the surprise of everyone, it was part of the final cut and managed to blow up. the fans swooned on how territorial sakusa had been and there were a few feedbacks that sakusa’s eyes softened at the mention of your name in the video. 

sakusa knew that, but he would never admit to it. 

“so.” you start as you lie down next to your boyfriend as the both of you watch the interview. “territorial, huh.” 

“you’re mine and you know it.” sakusa grumbled as he cuddled closer to your chest, watching the remaining few minutes. 

“of course i am, ‘yoomi.” you reply, kissing the crown of his head and watching the interview once more.

[kurumiumiu]

when a gossipy tabloid called you a princess in a very condescending way, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, your devoted boyfriend was pissed to say the least.

you find him scowling and scoffing at his phone. you get naturally curious and sit next to him on the couch, immediately snuggling in his side and peeking at his phone. then you see it.

Volleyball star, Sakusa Kiyoomi, was caught out on a casual coffee date with his longtime girlfriend. However insiders say the lovey-dovey atmosphere shifted entirely the moment her drink hit the table. After a single sip, the so-called “low-maintenance” girlfriend reportedly pulled one grimace, sparking whispers of yet another princess moment. According to those nearby, our poor Sakusa appeared visibly tensed while she gestured toward the cup. As if expecting something to be fixed. Her classic princess behavior, some say.

“so what? you can’t have fucking preferences now!? that milk they used literally gives you a stomachache” you frown too, ignoring the weird feeling growing in your chest and keep reading.

“He looked exhausted,” another source claimed. “Like this wasn’t the first time.” Is Sakusa Kiyoomi still enchanted? Or is our prince finally growing tired of his princess?

your boyfriend let’s out a sharp bitter laugh and locks his phone, tossing it aside. “omi, don’t… give that much importance” you say, trying to convince him as much as yourself “it’s nonsense”

“it’s bullshit” he adds, running a hand through his face, clearly done. after that, you try to be more careful about your reactions to any particularities you had about anything at all. not because you cared so much what they said about you. but mostly, to give kiyoomi a peace of mind, since you know he doesn’t particularly like attention.

the wince made when the msby arena was too loud? shut down. your coffee was too bitter? you barely react. you felt like freezing? nonchalance was the answer so sakusa wouldn’t give you his coat. and you were mostly getting the hold of it. but the last straw came when the restaurant added scallions to your rice.

you despise scallions.

your eye twitches before you take a deep breath, and brace yourself to start eating your food. but when your chopsticks grab the first bunch of food, sakusa literally stops you. you try to hide the slight panic in your eyes, as if saying 'we really don't need another tabloid now' to him.

but kiyoomi? unbothered. he doesn't call the waiter, he doesn't even suggest you simply switch plates at all.

he simply picks up his own chopsticks and begins removing each piece of scallion from your rice.

one by one.

a look of pure shock schools your features, frantically looking around the restaurant to see a couple of eyes already staring at your boyfriend.

"let them" he simply says, not stopping his task "maybe this time they'll now i’m your royal subject by choice"

you swear you see a tiny smirk forming on his face, and amusement is now all over your face. and of course, the next morning the moment hits the internet. and your social media floods with comments about how kiyoomi chose a princess, someone who doesn't even have to say a word to make him make things happen. the way you want them, whenever you want them.

it's safe to say, maybe you were a spoiled princess after all.

not that sakusa cared, anyway.

oatmilk makes me sick, u guys are under spells

[ochacoca]

YOU DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE

now playing♫ what you know by two door cinema club

husband!atsumu x gn!reader

in which you and atsumu get into an argument

content: fluff, post-argument, no angst

word count: 636 words

The house had been silent for hours after your screaming match with Atsumu. You didn't even remember what the argument was about. The only thing you remembered was when Atsumu started raising his voice, you did too.

In all honesty, you weren’t even upset with him. Atsumu came home after what you could assume was only a horrible and tedious practice, while you had an intensely stressful day at work. All you wanted to do when you returned home was to finish reading your book and bask in the silence. Clearly, you and Atsumu handled stress differently, since he was all over you the minute he set foot through the door.

He didn’t take it lightly when you asked him to leave you alone. Atsumu obviously didn’t realize how tense your shoulders were and how sunken in your eyes looked to register that you were most likely just as stressed as he was, but he was blinded by exhaustion and simply thought you were dismissing him. So that’s when it began. He accused you of not caring and raised his voice while you were fully confused and started raising yours as well. Now that you had time to yourself and reflect, you realized how stupid you two were being. This could have been resolved in 5 minutes, but almost an hour had passed, and Atsumu had stormed off and slammed the door to your shared bedroom as you stayed on the couch and continued reading your book.

Maybe if you two acted like the adults you were and talked through it, you wouldn't be giving each other the silent treatment. But with how stressed the two of you had been lately, some alone time would do good for both of you.

However, the alone time lasted shortly when you heard the door of your bedroom open and close, and Atsumu’s heavy footsteps treaded down the hallway. He sat down on the farthest end of the couch. It wasn't too big, so you could see him out of the corner of your eye. The way he pouted and crossed his arms as he waited for you to acknowledge him. How cute.

“I’m still mad at ya…” He mumbled as he turned to face you, your face still buried in the pages of your book.

“Are you?” You queried.

“Yes.” He answered back.

“So why are you talking to me?”

You fought back a giggle as your response seemed to shut him up quickly. Now, you were just trying to see how long it would take for him to drop the act instead of apologizing. You knew you didn’t have to wait long. And you were right, as not even a second later, Atsumu threw his head back with a groan and tugged at his hair.

”I can’t take this anymore!”

He grabbed the book that was in your hands and tossed it across the room, wrapping his arms around your waist, and he began peppering wet kisses all across your face. “Atsumu!” You yelped with a laugh, attempting to push him away from you but ultimately failing.

He continued to smother you in wet kisses, mumbling short apologies in between his pecks as he slowly climbed on top of you and pressed all of his body weight against you.“’M sorry, baby…” He apologized once again. “Been so stressed lately.” He pecked your cheek. “Took it out on ya like a dumbass..” He pecked the crevice of your neck.

You didn't answer, just simply cupped his cheeks in your hands and gently caressed his face before pressing a small kiss on his soft lips. He froze before smiling and returning the kiss, his teeth slightly clashing against yours. “I’d rather be stressed with ya than stressed and alone.”

©OCHACOCA 2026 | please do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other platforms!

[haikyu-mp4]

Side hustle – Atsumu x reader wc 663 – mom!reader

“Mom, can you buy something for me if I give you some cash I saved up? I don’t know how to order it,” your son asked one unassuming evening.

You were reading something on the couch and finished the ongoing sentence before placing your finger on the period as a bookmark, then you looked up at your son curiously. “Sure, honey, how much are we talking?”

Honestly, you were proud that your son managed to save up some of his allowance, knowing how prone he was to purchasing a snack after his volleyball training. “There’s this game I want…” He smiled with a hopeful glint in his eyes, which you understood when he held out a huge wad of cash.

With wide eyes, you took the bills from his hand and immediately started counting them in horror. “This is so much money, how long have you been saving?”

“Chill, don’t worry! I started selling stuff that Dad signed for me at school! It’s totally legit.”

Your jaw dropped as you connected those words to the amount of money. Surely, that’s breaking some sort of school rule. “You did what? For how long?”

“Like, a year.” And the horrors persisted, as your son crossed his arms proudly and shrugged like this was nothing. “It’s a side hustle.”

“You’re ten, you don’t need a side hustle,” you corrected him a little angrily, getting up from the couch and hurrying through the house to find your husband. “Go finish up that homework. I’ll discuss this with your dad.”

Your son winced at the fire in your voice and decided to do as you said with minimal complaints, lest he not get that money back.

You found your husband half asleep, sprawled on his back on your bed. He’d just gotten home from work and showered, then must’ve dozed off before coming downstairs. Picking up a pair of socks that were rolled into a ball, you threw them at his face, smiling proudly as they hit their target and he started stirring. But it quickly turned back into a frown at the heavy weight of the bills in your hand. “Wake up, ‘Tsumu, we have a problem. It’s your son.”

Atsumu groaned, pushing the palms of his hands harshly into his eyes. “He’s been our problem for ten years now, and why is it always my son when he causes trouble?” he asked rhetorically, holding out one arm to reach for you. “Maybe if we nap together, everything will be fine when we wake up.”

“Miya Atsumu.” He lifted his head when you used his full name and quirked an eyebrow, seeing the money. “Your son has been selling your signed merch at school.”

This time his jaw dropped, and then he covered his mouth in an obvious attempt to hide his smile. A small snort gave him away, and you threw another pair of rolled-up socks.

“It’s not funny!” you insisted, yet couldn’t help but giggle a little with him. “He said it’s a side hustle!”

Now, Atsumu full-on laughed, pulling you onto the bed so he could cuddle you. “I didn’t even realise I’ve signed so much stuff for him, but now that I’m thinking about it, he’s been asking me for a lot of signatures while I’m kind of distracted. I just thought he realised how cool his dad is.”

“Maybe our son is an aspiring scammer…”

“Selling them at school is so not allowed.”

“I know!”

“Should we tell an adult?” he asked.

“I think we’re the adults,” you whispered, making him look at you with wide eyes, which triggered another giggle fit. “We definitely need to talk to some parents, though.”

“Is it weird that I’m proud of him?” Atsumu asked, looking like he expected you to say yes.

“Don’t encourage it.” You pressed a kiss onto Atsumu’s lips to show you weren’t mad. “But he’s pretty clever.”

“Our son is a hustler already. They grow up so fast.”

“Atsumu!”

“Kidding, kidding.”

masterlist

[rosierin]

doomscroller | atsumu miya

synopsis; atsumu drags (y/n) away from her phone to bake cookies

a/n; for the doomscrollers who are tired of all the bad news lately and absorb negativity like a sponge- I see u

It's sometime in the afternoon, or evening—(y/n) isn't sure. She hasn't lifted her face from her phone for the past who-knows how many hours, too busy doom scrolling as the world around her keeps on spinning.

It's a terrible habit, really. And the worst thing is she knows it. She's been caught in this spiral before. She spends all day on her feet: working, finishing up chores, going out with friends. When she gets home, she tells herself she'll do something productive: write, read a book, journal. However her phone is right there, tempting her from her bedside table. It's so easy to just... lean over and grab it. And she does—and she hates herself for it.

Granted it can be fun, at times. There’s days where flicking through reels has her stomach hurting and her eyes brimming with tears of laughter. But moments like those are rare these days, and what she sees on her FYP is nothing short of miserable.

Someone's been murdered in her neighbourhood. Kids are going missing. The government is actually a satanic cult. World War III is right around the corner.

Most times, she ends up putting her phone back down on her bedside table and stares up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell went wrong with the world. Other times, she's left feeling so numb she doesn't even register she's been crying until there’s a terrible throb in her temples and her nose is so stuffy she can't even breath through it anymore.

Tonight is one of those nights.

She's all too focused, eyes unblinking, jaw clenched as she scrolls past one piece of bad news to the next. She doesn't even realise how far gone she is until a familiar voice calls her name and a large hand gently pries her phone from her hand.

"Enough," says the voice.

It's like she's broken out of a trance. She regains awareness of her surroundings and blinks away the fog from her eyes. When she looks up, Atsumu's there with a stern look on his face. He locks her phone and slides it into his back pocket. "Yer just gonna make yerself sad again,” he says—firm, but not unkind. “It ain't worth it."

His words hit her like icy wind. She welcomes the wake-up call though, and takes a deep breath she didn't realise her body had been craving. It's not an immediate fix, but already she feels a little lighter, and her shoulders sag like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

Rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, she mutters, "I know. Sometimes I just can't help it. I see one article and it feels almost cruel to click away."

That's another thing she struggles with—knowing the line between a healthy amount of knowledge, and feeding herself too much unnecessary negativity. Sometimes it feels almost selfish—the ability to click away and turn a blind eye when she sees something that makes her uncomfortable. Others don't have the luxury of doing that—not when they're currently living the hell she’s lucky she only reads about in articles. Her heart clenches then sinks at the mere thought of it.

Again, she doesn't realise she's welling up until Atsumu runs a thumb beneath her eye and swipes away a single tear before it can fall.

"Yer not bein' cruel. No one’s blamin’ ya for givin’ yerself some space.“

She sits there, blinking up at Atsumu, unsure if she wants to laugh it off, or give in to her sadness and close herself away until tomorrow. Leave it to him to phrase things so plainly, like the world isn’t always ending, like you can just press pause and take step back whenever life gets too heavy. It’s a skill she’s yet to acquire, but it helps to have him remind her from time to time.

“Thanks,” she manages, her voice a little raw. “You’re probably right.”

Atsumu snorts, like he can’t stand gratitude aimed his way. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m puttin’ ya to work,” he says, jerking his head toward the kitchen.

She watches him, bemused, until a thought passes her and her stomach drops. “Not the dishes,” she pleads. “I don’t have the strength for that right now.”

“Not the dishes,” he calls over his shoulder. “C’mon, I made cookies and they look like shit. I need an artiste to help me salvage them.”

Cookies. She can’t help but smile, a twitch she quickly smothers, but there’s a tenderness that lingers even as she trails after him. In the kitchen, the counters are a mess of flour and stray chocolate chips. The smell is comforting, sweet—albeit the tang of something slightly burnt hanging in the air—and she finds herself breathing deeper, letting it fill the hollowness in her chest.

Atsumu walks over to the counter and pulls a tea towel off the cooling tray. He grins, a little sheepish, then gestures like a craftsman showing his pièce de résistance. “Tada.”

She huffs a laugh. The cookies are, in fact, misshapen. Some are ovals, others have melted into strange amoeba-looking shapes. And yet, they are imperfectly, unapologetically, enthusiastically Atsumu. If careless and whole-hearted were a food, it would be these cookies.

“They’re lovely,” she says, and means it.

He brightens, and for a split second she sees the boy he must have been once, bragging about mud pies. “Right? I call this one Ze Blob.’”

“You’re a genius,” she says, and means that, too. Even with his atrocious attempt at a French accent.

“Thank you, thank you.” He puffs out his chest like an all-too-proud-rooster ruffling its feathers, before dumping a tube of icing into her hand. “Now it’s yer turn to add the finishin’ touches,” he says, then gives her a mock-serious glare. “Try not to mess up my hard work, alright?”

She rolls her eyes, but happily obliges.

The next few minutes are quiet, the only sounds being the plastic crinkle of icing tubes and the sporadic clatter of sprinkles. She tries to make each cookie special, drawing crooked faces (a winky one for Atsumu, a smug one for Osamu, and a deadpan one for Suna), and even though her artistic skills are mediocre at best, she tells herself it’s more about the process, about spending time with a loved one—in the real world. She feels her nervous system finally begin to regulate as she focuses on her craft, on Atsumu’s humming—low and a little off-key.

Granted, she’s still not one-hundred percent herself—her mind still reeling with the weight of too many headlines, too much cruelty, the way a bad dream replays itself no matter how many times you try and banish it. But here, in the dim kitchen light, squeezing icing onto a too-dark cookie, she can almost believe in the possibility of okay.

She glances over at Atsumu, who’s gotten more icing on his hands than on the cookies. He looks up and catches her watching. “You good?”

She considers for a moment, then sets her cookie down. She wipes her hand on some kitchen roll and walks over, half expecting him to dodge or question her motives. Instead, he goes perfectly still when she wraps her arms around his waist and presses her forehead into his shoulder.

He stays frozen for a while, until eventually his arms wind around her back, clumsy but sure. He squeezes, a touch too tight, but she doesn’t mind. She likes them best that way.

“Ya big sap,” he says, gentler than she’s used to.

She laughs into his shirt. “Takes one to know one.”

He doesn’t object—just snickers and rests his chin on top of her head, and for a while they just stand there, swaying a little in the middle of their small kitchen.

It’s nothing short of mundane. It’s just cookies. It’s just a hug. They’re such small and simple activities that are so easy to take for granted. Yet for the first time in a long time, (y/n) doesn’t feel guilty, doesn’t feel helpless, doesn’t feel defeated. For the first time in a long time, the world doesn’t feel so dark.

In fact, if not for just a moment, the world feels just fine.

thank you to everyone who likes, comments &/or reblogs! ☺️

for more of the off-season quartet 🌷🌙🌤️🌧️

[kvroomi]

it's 9 o'clock in the evening when atsumu barges into your bathroom while you're taking off your makeup

“hey, babe, yer phone’s charged, right?”

his voice breaks through the quiet hum of your evening, pulling your attention away from the bottle of moisturiser you'd been trying to open for the past 5 minutes. you glance up to find him leaning in the doorway. his black dress pants and light blue button-up are long gone, now replaced with a large white t-shirt and his obnoxious 'world's best setter' boxers that he must've left in the dresser you bought for him when he started staying over more often.

“yeah, why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

he holds up his phone with an exaggerated sigh, the screen dark. “mine’s dead." he sighs and you look at him confused.

"i was gonna call ‘samu—messaged me somethin’ about the shop. think he forgot to order noodles or… or whatever. can i borrow yours for a sec?”

you furrow your eyebrows, skepticism creeping in. atsumu wasn’t exactly known for prioritizing osamu’s last-minute “emergencies” unless they directly concerned him. “can’t you just use the landline?”

“the landline?” he places a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“what am i, a fossil?" you turn your gaze back to the mirror with a roll of your eyes.

"c’mon, babe, it’ll only take a minute. please?”

you stare at him and he stares back, the two of you locking eyes in a silent standoff. atsumu, for all his dramatics, was never great at hiding when he was up to something.

alas, as much as you wanted to pry, you also didn’t have the energy to argue over something so trivial when it was so late into the day.

“okay,” you breathe out, followed by a long sigh as you hand your phone over.

“just don’t mess with anything.” your eyes narrow threateningly.

“mess with things? me?” he shakes his head around, feigning shock. “never. yer phone’s in the safest hands imaginable.”

that already should’ve been your second red flag—though before you can even question him, he's got his back turned halfway out the door yelling “thanks, babe! yer the best!” over his shoulder.

a brief fifteen minutes have passed, which you only vaguely realise in the haze of beginning your book. you're comfortably tucked into the corner of the couch when he strolls into the living room. plopping your phone onto the cushions beside you and pressing a quick, warm kiss to the top of your head—he pokes your cheek.

“yer a lifesaver,” he says with a grin, flopping down beside you. “what would i do without ya?”

you offer him a glance, “what did osamu need?”

“huh?” you notice his grin falter. it's a split millisecond, but he's quick to cover it with a casual wave of his hand. “oh, somethin’ about… rice.”

you squint at him, trying to read his face. “i thought you said noodles earlier?”

“rice, noodles—same difference,” he says, getting up and walking over to the fridge to pull it open. “food stuff... y’know how he is.”

you let out a hum, satisfied with his answer. and just like that, the moment passes. your attention is drawn back to your book while atsumu rifles through leftovers.

it isn't until later that night when you're climbing into bed and reaching for your phone to set your alarm that you notice. the screen lights up, and instead of your usual photo of cherry blossoms, you're greeted by him—a photo of atsumu.

and it's not just any photo of atsumu, though. this one was pure chaos.

his entire face filled the frame, nose slightly scrunched, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and his golden-brown eyes wide with faux innocence. his lips were puckered in an over-the-top kissy face. across the bottom of the image in bright, white text were the words: “miss me yet, babe? ;)”

your jaw drops.

“what the—?” you're immediately sitting up and unlocking your phone, going straight into your photo gallery. what you find only makes your disbelief grow, (and maybe your heart too, out of fondness).

the first photo was relatively tame: a selfie of atsumu sprawled out on the couch with his head sitting in his hand with a cheeky and flirty smile. of course, you think.

the second was him in the doorway of the living room with his finger pressed to his lips in a "shh" gesture while you sat on the couch, engrossed in your book.

and then things get progressively more ridiculous, (assuming that's even possible).

there's a close-up of atsumu holding up your favorite snack with an inflated, brash grin, almost as if he was offering it to you. the caption reads: “this one's for you, babe."

another captured him perched on your desk chair, holding your pencil like it was a quill. his nose is scrunched again, an attempt to portray his concentration as he pretends to scribble something brilliant.

it's the final photo that stops you in your tracks.

it's atsumu stood on the balcony, wrapped in your favorite blanket like a superhero while his arm stretched dramatically toward the sky. the caption read: “protector of this household and defender of snacks ;)”

you stare at the screen in silence, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. quite frankly, you couldn't tell whether you wanted to laugh or cry.

atsumu was many things: he was ridiculous, he was almost always over the top, and he was also occasionally the most infuriating person you’d ever met. but, there was one thing for certain—he was undeniably, wholeheartedly yours.

many people don't understand him the way you do. atsumu hadn’t just messed with your phone for the sake of it—he’d left you a trail of love notes that were neatly tucked behind each photo’s absurdity. it was his way of saying "i’m here, even when i’m not," without actually saying the words verbally.

and it worked.

you didn’t text him right away. instead, you curled under the blankets, scrolling through the photos again and again. your heart swelled with every outlandish caption, every childish expression, every trace of him.

eventually, you couldn’t help yourself.

you: you’re a menace.

his reply was almost instant: atsumu: a menace with a pretty face, though. miss ya, babe x

you beamed, your thumb hovering over the lock screen settings, conflicted between whether or not you should switch back the photo. though how could you? not when you already knew tomorrow would bring another excuse for him to check your phone again, just to see if you’d kept it.

so you decide to leave it—his face on your lock screen as a proud display of the world’s most unconventional love letter.

KVROOMI © 2024, DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[dearru]

princess treatment | a.miya

-> pairing: miya atsumu x gn!reader | sfw | cw: reader wears makeup, u guys r flirty asf, i wrote this in a trance so it’s not proofread | wc: 849 | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: doing your boyfriend’s makeup and the other things that follow…

“Tsumu! Stop squirming.” 

Your hand rests firmly on his jaw, keeping him still. Gripping the sharp ridge of his face for leverage, you carefully apply eyeliner along your boyfriend’s lid. Atsumu's breath is warm against you, and his cheeks are tinged pink from the blush you’d placed on him moments before. Beneath your grip, you feel him twitching against your rigid touch.

“But it feels weird.” He whines, twitching, fighting the urge to break free. Pouting, his eyes dart to yours. “Can’t believe ya roped me into doin’ this.” 

You giggle, repositioning yourself in his lap. The pen is poised in your hand as you lean in to continue your skillful strokes. His breath hitches as you do so, and you revel in the power you have over him. 

“Almost done.” You coo, “I swear.” 

Finishing the last touch of eyeliner, you hum in delight at your handiwork and reach across the way for gloss. Atsumu’s lips curl in disgust and he jerks his head away.  

“Yer not puttin’ that on me.” 

Scoffing, you ignore his protests and untwist the cap. “Stop being a baby. You love it when I wear this stuff.” 

“Yeah, key-word: you.” He reasons, groaning in indignation, “I gotta stop lettin’ you talk me into doin’ weird shit.” 

“Men wearing lipgloss is not weird.” You giggle, pressing against him as you inch closer to his face. Your hands wave the applicator in front of him enticingly to no avail as he continues to look at the object like it’s a threat.  

“C’mon.” You sing, voice honeyed. “If you’re good– I’ll give you a reward.” 

His brows raise, curiosity painting his features. Body language changing in an instant, he puckers his lips dramatically in your direction. 

“Why didn’t ya tell me that before?” He says, eyes glistening with a bright mirth. His lips morph from puckered to a dopey grin as if he can’t help but smile at the thought of his reward. “If ya had, it would’ve made this process a lot easier.” 

“Would it have?” You hum, coyly. Pleased by the obliging mood he’s now in, you tilt his chin up and brush the gloss over his full lips with deliberate care. When you pull away, he poses, and you throw your head back in a hearty laugh. 

You wrap your hands around his shoulders and shudder at the feeling of them– broad and sturdy in your grasp. In the still of the moment, you let yourself drink him in. 

He looks really good. 

His striking features are cut by the softness of the makeup. The streaks of contour and glossy lips compliment him and make him look unreal. Your heart swells from the knowledge that only you could have enough sway to do this to him. 

To have and to hold Atsumu like this is a pleasure that belongs only to you.  

“You’re so pretty like this.” You murmur, thumb tracing his bottom lip. The gloss smudges from your touch, but you think he looks better when he’s a little messy. 

His nose scrunches. “I hate when ya call me pretty. Say I’m handsome, or somethin’ like everyone else.” 

 Despite the playfulness of the moment, there’s a slight tremor in his breath that feels so intimate your knees shake. There’s a tenseness in his shoulders that hints at the impact of your compliment. It fills your stomach with something warm and greedy. 

“But I love calling you pretty.” You grin, trying to stay composed as his strong arms snake around your waist and pull you taut against him. Hand moving to touch his chest, you gaze longingly into his eyes. “Especially when you have makeup on. It makes me want to give you the princess treatment.” 

He whistles, hands rubbing up your sides. You’re in such close proximity that you can just catch how the rise and fall of his chest speeds up when he receives the compliment. 

Eyes darkening, he hums thoughtfully. “And what’s the princess treatment?” 

You don’t reply. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a slow, sticky kiss. He grunts at the feeling and immediately deepens it, instantly stealing the domineering role from you. The dissonance between his aggressive movements and the taste of the strawberry gloss sends shivers down your spine. 

You pull away before it gets too heated, and he groans, chasing after your lips. 

“Stop fuckin’ with me.” He mewls, staring at you like a distressed child being denied his favorite toy. “I hate bein’ teased.”  

“I’m not.” You purr, one hand tracing his chest while the other reaches for your back pocket where your phone resides. “I just want a picture of you in your makeup before we mess it up too much.” 

Before you can open the camera app, his hand grabs your wrist. 

“Who’re ya gonna show that picture to?” He probes, whiney.

Your lips quirk up, “No one. It’s for my personal collection.” 

His eyes narrow before sighing and releasing you from his hold. 

“Yer so weird.” He huffs, but the soft blush on the tips of his ears and the warm affection in his eyes tell you that he doesn’t really mind.

—a/n: he’s just ur silly, loser, whiney bf guys how could u hate him…