my brain has a dedicated section for "let's make this about skts" and i hope you guys are picking up what i'm putting down because this is now in the works and you can't stop me
Because I'm not okay after the release of the Ithaca Saga and because i literally breathe sakuatsu every day, my brain thought of this. I posted it on twitter first so i'll be attaching the link if you'd like to read it over there but I'm also going to simply type it out here. I decided to omit a specific part of the story simply because of time and because I wanted to keep the drabble on the shorter side. Anyway hope you enjoy this. listen to epic the musical it's an absolute masterpiece. and maybe follow me on twitter if ya want.
Atsumu finally returning after twenty long, long years at sea. He lost everyone. His crew. His mother. His best friend. His brother. He's almost certain he's lost himself too, succumbing to the monster inside of him just so he could see his beloved husband and son once more.
And he can. He finally can.
His husband had bought him enough time for him to come back home and reunite. He wasted no time in slaying the suitors that wanted to ruin his family. Finally. With his husband and son.
He's home.
He hadn't seen his son since we was an infant. And how he's grown so much. He's as tall as Atsumu now. Not as built as his father, but strong enough to fight. Pride overwhelms Atsumu as he holds his son tightly in his arms, something he's yearned too long for.
His husband. His beloved. For twenty long years the only thing that's kept him going. In the doorway of his bedroom Atsumu stands looking at his lover on their balcony.
"Kiyoomi," his voice is the ghost of a whisper, yet it carries across the threshold of their room.
Kiyoomi turns to face the man in his doorway. His eyes are swirling with a concoction of awe and fear.
"Atsumu...have you finally come home?"
Atsumu tentatively steps into the room towards Kiyoomi. He places his bow, finally strung again, by the door.
"My love," Atsumu exhales.
He longs to reach out and tuck the stray black curl behind Kiyoomi's ear. He wouldn't think it possible if it weren't before his own eyes, but he swears Kiyoomi must have grown more beautiful each day that passed as he was away. He's breathtaking.
"Before we embrace," Kiyoomi begins, "I have one request to ask of you."
"Anything for you."
Kiyoomi gestures to the bed on one side of the room. "Could you move the wedding bed for me?"
Atsumu could not believe his ears. He had carved their wedding bed from the olive tree they first met under. He would have to cut the bed free from the roots. That would mean cutting away a piece of their love.
"How could you ask this of me? You know I won't cut the bed from the olive tree."
The sagging in Kiyoomi's shoulders seemed to lift as he was doused in relief. Only his husband would know that of their wedding bed.
He's certain now.
Atsumu is finally home.
Kiyoomi is rushing into his husband's arms and it would seem Atsumu has been prepared to catch him for twenty years the way he lifts him with ease yet holds him so tenderly. Ink black pools and honey brown eyes glossed over as they admire each other in the setting sunlight.
"My Atsumu," Kiyoomi exhales like it's the first breath he's taken in twenty years. He presses his forehead to his husband's and they hold each other for what feels like forever yet also not long enough.
Atsumu waits for Kiyoomi to pull back. When he does, Atsumu cups his face, tracing his jawline with calloused thumbs.
"My beloved," he whispers back, "My Kiyoomi."
"You're home," a quiet sob falls from Kiyoomi's lips.
"I'm home," Atsumu assures him, pulling him into his chest once more. He caresses his hair as he repeats the two words like a mantra.
There’s a pit in his stomach he can’t quite place. All he knows is he feels an overwhelming need to care for her. Like he was molded from the dust of the same star as she, and he was placed on this path to reunite and hold her as she trembles and feed her soup when her arms are too tired.
so i’m writing this fic and it started in a “fic ideas” note with another idea i have but as i’ve started writing it i just keep adding more and more ideas to it as im writing or just in general with like head canons and things i want to include in the fic and oh my lord it’s getting as long as the fic at this point
i feel like i’m accidentally showing favoritism while writing this fic because so far i’ve only got the rough draft of chapter one finished and a good chunk of chapter two started and i’ve written so much more for atsumu than i have sakusa this was not the plan
as i crack open another google doc like dads open beers watching the game ive discovered i always start my sakuatsu fics from sakusas pov. like even when its going to cover both povs atsumu will come in later. this is at least the third time and it will not be the last
revising your writing is just like "is this weird. is this a weird sentence. is this the weirdest most poorly-worded sentence ever written by anyone" and the sentence in question is "he walked across the room"
guys i shall have you know that i’ve thought of two more sakuatsu fics. have i finished any of my other wips? no. (they’re started tho!!) but ive been struck with genius today
guys…the creative juices are flowing again and I have multiple WIPs that i’m actually working on
and that one is teased at the beginning of the year? she’s not one of them. not yet at least. lots of prep has to be done for her. but these over here? *slaps hand on my laptop screen* these are gonna knock your socks off
this is pure fluff. tooth rotting fluff. I've never been so motivated to write something and now I have a lot more motivation to write, so I'll be taking requests! I'm a lot more active again so I'll also be happy to answer any questions too. Feedback is appreciated!
Enjoy :)
Everyone knows Gojo is a good dancer. He’s literally good at anything he does. But when it comes to dancing, Satoru favors when it’s just you two.
Sure, when you go to the club with your friends he has a good time. I mean, come on, he gets to keep his hands on you all night. There will be no doubts that he is yours and you are his. He enjoys the way your body leans against his all night and how your hands will run up and down his chest or your arms wrapped around his neck.
In fact he loves those nights.
But Gojo loves to dance when it’s you two alone in your shared apartment.
The first time you danced alone with Satoru was in the kitchen. It was sometime after 9pm and you both wanted to make cookies. You decided to put on a playlist of high energy songs to bounce around and sing to while baking.
The dough was in a ball, ready to be rolled out, when “Everytime We Touch” by Cascada had come on. Satoru was putting some dishes in the sink while you prepared the dough on the counter. The chorus of the song had begun and you turned to Satoru, holding the rolling pin as a microphone.
“CAUSE EVERYTIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING!”
Satoru basically jumped out of his pajama pants, but turned to you and couldn’t hold back his smile even if he wanted to.
“AND EVERYTIME WE KISS I SWEAR I COULD FLY!” you continued.
Satoru quickly grabbed the whisk he had yet to put in the sink for his impromptu microphone and joined you.
“CAN’T YOU FEEL MY HEART BEAT FAST! I WANT THIS TO LAST!”
You dramatically pointed at Satoru while singing the last line of the chorus, “NEED YOU BY MY SIDE!”
You two continued to dramatically perform the rest of the song and a few that followed. Jumping around the kitchen, striking silly poses, and doing goofy dances. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing. And Satoru swore he had never seen anything more beautiful than that sight.
It didn’t matter that the next song that played was “Last Friday Night”. Satoru looked at you and smiled a smile that said “you are my one,” and reached a hand out to you.
“May I have this dance?”
Your smile softened from one of excitement to one of adoration. You placed your hand in his.
“You may.”
You both put your “microphones” back on the counter. He placed his now free hand on your waist, and you placed yours on his shoulder.
To any outsider looking in, it would look a little silly to be dancing like this in your pajamas at almost 10pm in your kitchen. But no one could deny the pure love and affection shared between the two of you. It’s as if the rest of the world faded away, and all that was left was the two of you dancing in that kitchen.
Satoru had begun to spin and dip you, making you laugh all over again. He put you in a dip and held you there for a moment, speaking softly, “You really are so beautiful, you know,” before bringing you back up. You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks.
“Says the handsome gentleman I get to call my boyfriend.”
He spun you out before pulling you back into a sweetheart hold. He melted from there, wrapping his hands around your waist and dropping his chin to your shoulder. You placed your hands over his.
“I love you so much,” he whispered to you.
You leaned your head against his. “I love you, too.”
He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck. You gently stroked your thumb against his hand.
“You make me so happy.”
You leaned into his touch a little further. You grabbed his left hand and brought the back of it to your mouth, kissing his left ring finger.
“I’m glad.”
The two of you stood there for a few minutes just enjoying each other’s embrace before you suggested finishing the cookies. Satoru kissed your cheek and spun you back out. He then changed the playlist to one of softer songs you guys could sing to each other.
The second time you danced alone with Satoru was in your bedroom before a dinner party with your friends. You stood in front of a full length mirror. You were wearing a slim black dress with a leg slit, neck and ears adorned with plenty of expensive rocks Satoru felt the need to spoil you with. Satoru walked up from behind you, dressed in a black suit with a silver watch to match your jewelry. He put his hands on your waist and kissed the side of your neck before placing his chin on your exposed shoulder. He made eye contact with you in the mirror. He whispered in your ear.
“Mmm, tu es si belle mon amour.”
A tingle shivered down your spine. You smiled at him through the mirror.
“What did I say about speaking French?”
Satoru’s hands began to roam your body, trying to feel every curve as if to memorize it (like he hasn’t already). He mumbled into your shoulder, “That I should do it more often.”
You rolled your eyes, but didn’t let the smile fall from your lips. “To not do it until we get back from our plans.”
“Oh, but baby,” Satoru reached around to the outside of your left thigh, “it’s not my fault you get so hot and bothered by it.” Satoru lifted your leg and spun you to face him. He dipped you backwards, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. He leaned closer to your face. Sultry, he whispered, “c’est ton problème.”
You let your eyes close and your head fall back before he brought you back up to your feet. Your eyes met his, a smirk lingering across his face. He lifts the arm wrapped around your waist and guides your arm to his shoulder before returning his arm to your waist. He interlaces your fingers with the other.
“danse avec moi, ma chérie?”
You squeezed his hand in yours and smiled sweetly at your boyfriend. Matching his tone, you replied, “bien sûr, mon ange.”
Satoru began to sway the two of you away from the mirror. He held you close this time, never letting you stray too far. While there was no music playing, the two of you shared a rhythm easily, never missing a step. He would spin you under his arm and bring you right back into his chest. He’d lower you into a dip and kiss you every time. Spin. Kiss. Dip. Kiss. The cycle on repeat between every few steps. Each kiss became longer and more passionate.
He dipped you low and attached his lips to yours. Your hands left his neck to find solace on the back of his head. Satoru tried to return upright but you kept him in his place. One hand traveling down to his chest and lingering there as you allowed him to pull you both up, lips detaching only for a quick breath before the two of you were chasing each other's lips.
You began to walk Satoru backwards, his hands holding onto your waist. You pushed him back onto your shared bed.
You were late to the dinner party that night.
The third time you danced alone with Satoru was in your shared bathroom one quiet Saturday morning. You had woken up at 8. You blearily looked at your boyfriend in the morning light. His hair always falls softly across his face and pillow. The way the sun kisses his cheeks. The way he always had an arm wrapped around you, protecting you even in slumber. You thought nothing of this world could compete with the beauty that is Gojo Satoru peacefully sleeping in the morning sun.
You reached a hand up and caressed his cheek with the back of your index finger. A featherlight touch. You moved your hand up to move the hair away from his eyes. Satoru didn’t move at all.
“You can hold me,” he mumbled. Eyes still closed.
He didn’t have to specify. He knew that in the morning, before you started your day, you loved to run your hands through his hair and hold his head in your hands. It was your way of making sure you gave him at least one physical show of affection each day. There were rough days where you or he would come home late from missions or were simply so tired you’d pass out immediately after entering the door. You were sure he knew you loved him every day, but you want to make sure he feels that love every day. So you make sure before you guys get up or before you leave for work that you get to run your hands through his hair and hold him. Sometimes you add a kiss. Most of the time you add a kiss. 99% of the time you add a kiss.
So you ran your hand through his hair and placed your hand at the nape of his neck. You leaned forward and Satoru met you halfway, encouraging you to place your lips on his forehead.
You leaned back and made eye contact with Satoru. You both shared a soft smile. He leaned forward this time and you shared a loving kiss. It’s as if his lips were infused with ambrosia and you needed a taste to survive. You both separated, but didn’t move far. Your foreheads were touching and Satoru ran a hand up and down your arm.
Softly, in the quiet morning he asked, “Are you ready to get up?”
You softly nod. The two of you begin to slowly sit up and get up from the bed. You made your way to the bathroom as Satoru began making the bed. It’s your routine. You shower first. While you shower, Satoru makes the bed and goes around the apartment opening the curtains and blinds to allow natural sunlight to flow in, and starts a load of laundry. You guys had planned for this day to be a movie day, so he also arranged the living room couch to the bed-like set up it could be, throwing a few extra pillows and blankets on it as well. When it was his turn to shower, you started the coffee pot and picked out the matching loungewear you guys would be wearing. You put yours on and placed his on the bed. Then you began your skin care routine. Despite his perfect skin, Gojo did nothing to make it that way. Annoying as it is.
You were in the last steps of your routine when Satoru turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He dried himself off with his towel before wrapping it around his waist. He made his way past you, quickly placing a kiss on your temple as he moved towards the bedroom.
When he walked back in you moved on to brushing your teeth. He once again pecked your forehead in passing. He stopped in front of his sink and began brushing his teeth as well.
It was something so simple. The two of you brushing your teeth together in the morning. Your hair still wet from the shower and Satoru’s normally fluffy hair matted against his head and neck. It was hot but that’s not what had you swooning. It was the thought of doing this for the rest of your life. Sure, you’ve done this everyday for the past five years but that’s not enough. You want forever. You need forever with Satoru.
You don’t know how to explain it. Maybe it’s the domesticity of the moment. Or how right it feels to go through life side by side with each other. Or the way he knows you and you know him. The way the world, with all its cruel nature, felt safer and lighter with him in it.
Or maybe it was the way he brushed his teeth.
You simply couldn’t explain it.
All you know is you both finished brushing your teeth and you put yourself in his arms. By habit he had wrapped you in them. You had your arms around his waist and your head on his chest. He looked at your face in the mirror. A subtle smile rested on your lips.
“What’s up, baby?”
You looked up at him.
“Will you dance with me?”
He smiled back, a man totally head over heels, and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.
“I’ll do anything you ask of me.”
He began to sway you in the embrace you guys shared. It wasn’t big and flashy like the past times. There was no flair. There were no big steps that took you across the bathroom and back. If anything it resembled a school dance with a crowded dance floor that left little room for movement. Only the thing crowding you guys this time wasn’t people, but the love you two held for each other. As if you could feel it in the air, surrounding you.
There were no prying eyes. And this dance was for no one but the two of you.
And if anyone did see, they would most definitely call it boring.
But it was one of your favorites.
Your head remained on Satoru’s chest, your eyes closed and your smile never fading. Satoru’s eyes never left your face in the mirror. His smile never faltered.
He leaned his head down ever so slightly. He whispered, “Spin?”
You looked up at him, smile never moving. You nodded and indulged in a spin for him. Immediately finding your place against his chest once more.
His smile grew wider, if possible.
His hands moved to wrap your figure. One across your back, the other behind your head. He pulled you into a passionate embrace. You tightly squeezed back.
“You ready for us to make breakfast?”
You let out a sigh of content. He could feel your smile as you replied, “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Before you could do anything, you let out a yelp as Satoru had you lifted over his shoulder and carried you out of the bathroom.
“Satoru!”
He laughed as you hit his back while he walked.
“Gojo Satoru put me down!”
As he entered the kitchen he took you off his shoulder and placed you gently on the ground. You crossed your arms and glared up at him. He only smirked back.
“Come on, sweetheart. I know you love it.”
You held his eye contact. “No, I don’t .”
He shook his head slightly, “You can’t lie to me, Y/N.” He made his way to the fridge.
You held your ground, “I don’t like when you manhandle me.”
Satoru smirked at you over his shoulder.
“That’s not what you said last night.”
“SATORU!”
The fourth time you and Satoru danced alone was after binge watching Bridgerton. The two of you dressed as regal as the characters in the show - Satoru bare chested and adorning cozy sweatpants, and you in one of his hoodies and shorts. You guys were ready for the ball.
You were cuddled up, head resting on Satoru’s chest with his arm snug around your waist, the other behind his head. You looked up at him as he rested his head on the back of the couch.
“Would you buy me a dress like the ones they wear in the show?”
He didn’t move but responded, “Only if I get to have one of the fancy suits.”
You sat up. “Wait. Really?” Your face dressed in disbelief.
He moved his eyes to your face and raised an eyebrow. “Uh, obviously.”
You chuckled and shook your head, then stood from the couch. “Come on.”
“What?”
You rolled your eyes and motioned for him to stand. “Get up!”
“Why?”
“Oh come on.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “Okay, okay,” he caved, “What are we doing?”
You smiled up at him.
“Dancing like we’re at one of those balls, of course.”
He returned that sweet smile tenfold. His hands at his sides, he bowed his head. “Of course, my lady.”
The two of you decided to learn one of the dances from the show, ultimately deciding on Kate and Anthony’s dance to “Wrecking Ball.”
You giggled at first and Satoru smiled down at you, but you quickly went into concentration mode. Whenever you learned a dance you really got into it. And Satoru let you correct him and did whatever you told him to do. He just wanted to make you happy.
Learning the first move was simple. Standing apart, facing each other, you curtsy as he bows. You reach your arms out and connect your hands. He steps forward as you step back. Then you step forward as he steps back. A step to your right. Back to your left. Another step to your left.
You and Satoru practiced the step sequence a few times with the music to make sure you had it down before moving onto the spin.
The two of you moved on to the first spin. First practicing in place. You spin under your arms, leaving your right arm lifted with his right. Your left arms moving behind your back. Once you felt the two of you had it smooth, you moved onto stepping into the spin.
It felt natural for the two of you to be dancing like this. As if a pair of lovers from the regency period had been reincarnated as the two of you in the modern day. For the two of you, learning the dance and filling in the steps the camera didn’t catch in the show came as naturally as breathing. As if you’ve danced this dance before.
You two had run through the full dance a few times now. Satoru is positive you both know it by now, but you can’t seem to keep your eyes off the TV screen to make sure the moves are correct.
At the same time as Anthony Bridgerton, Satoru whispered, “Just keep looking at me.”
Your body naturally followed the moves while your head snapped back to him. With pure adoration in his eyes, he smiled at you. After your spin and a quick choreographed pause in the dance, once again with Anthony Bridgerton, he whispered.
“No one else matters.”
A faint smile formed on your lips. You two easily went into the next steps, just as Satoru knew you would.
As you continued the dance, you grew more confident in your steps. Your smile grows with each move. It must be contagious because as your smile grows wider, Satoru follows suit. He swears the universe was created simply for this moment to occur.
The dance ended. You two stared at each other smiling. Fondness ever present.
“Do you think we could add a few moves from this to our first dance when we get married?” you asked him.
“Anything my lady wants, she will get.” He reached over and reset the TV to the beginning of the dance. He stood tall in front of you again, a smirk tugged at his lips. “So we better keep practicing.”
Your smile found your lips once more. You two reset to your starting places, curtsied and bowed, and began the dance again.
Both yours and Satoru’s favorite time you danced alone was in front of your family and friends at your wedding reception.
Sure, physically you were surrounded by people, but it felt as if no one was in the room with the two of you. It felt like you were back in your kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room. The private dance studio of your shared apartment.
However, you and Satoru moved alone in the center of the dance floor. You truly felt like you were a princess marrying her prince. You wore a ball gown inspired wedding dress (that you would change out of and into another elegant dress but one simpler to move in after the dance, speeches, and cake cutting) while Satoru wore a navy blue suit embroidered with a subtle floral pattern also in navy. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so passionately in your life than during this dance with your now-husband.
Satoru had more than complied with your requests to take some moves from the Bridgerton dance and happily learned a whole ballroom routine with you. You were nervous when you first asked him if he would be interested in taking a class to get first dance ideas. Satoru crushed all your nervousness in a millisecond by getting super excited and picking you up and spinning you around as you laughed. After the class you both enjoyed it so much and felt like it captured your love for each other beautifully and found a choreographer to help make the dance.
The two of you also go to weekly dance classes now.
Now the two of you command every eye in the room. Yet yours are only held by Satoru’s, and his held by yours. It didn’t matter how many eyes were on the two of you, that moment was yours and Satoru’s alone.
If the passion in your graceful steps, careful arm movements, and elegant dips and spins couldn’t announce the infatuation the both of you shared for one another, the intense eye contact and subconscious smiles that lasted throughout the entire dance informed the universe that these two souls were destined to be intertwined.
As you went into a move taken from the Bridgerton dance the two of you learned, Satoru tilted his head ever so slightly. You didn’t think his eyes could soften anymore than they already had, but Satoru was a man in love, and he whispered.
“No one else matters.”
It was as if he lit a fire in you. Your dance continued with the same choreography, yet your smiles grew into smirks of confidence. The two of you had more power in each of your steps. A visual representation of your relationship as your love grew stronger each day you chose each other day after day for years.
This dance was not for your parents, or friends, or extended family. This was a dance for you and Satoru.
Satoru didn’t notice his mother smiling at a nearby table or Suguru filming the dance from the bridal party table. All he saw was his beautiful wife in front of him, smiling the brightest he’s ever seen. And when you laugh as he dips you further than rehearsed, he swears he would submerge himself in it if he could.
And you didn’t notice the flower girl cooing to Yuki about how she wants to be a princess like you or your father dabbing his eyes next to your mother. All you saw was the most amazing husband the universe could have gifted you with. His blue eyes rival the most beautiful waters and his passion brighter than any star in the night sky.
As the dance came to an end, you stood before Satoru. He stood before you. Your hands connected.
The music faded.
He pulled you softly towards him, an arm wrapping around your waist. The other softly cupped your cheek. Your hands move to frame his face.
Satoru leaned forward and captured your lips in a tender kiss.
You connect like puzzle pieces made for each other.
Like lovers from past centuries reincarnated, bound to find each other every time.
guys i’m working on possibly my biggest writing project yet and im so excited to write it and put it out but just know the world building has been insane and so much work has been put into it already. aot fandom be ready
it’s hard to live in my apartment. the ghost of someone who’s not even dead yet roams each room and leaves traces of itself in every nail in the wall, the little decorations hung around, the shelf next to my bed.
baratheonpilled
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
vaporwave
romaincrisis