#sakusa one shot
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"What are you doing?" Kiyoomi asks from his place on the bed, wary.
His arms part as he makes space for you to wiggle your way onto his chest. He breathes a laugh at your antics, watches as you take his face between the palm of your hands. The grin that tugs on your lips is a little lopsided, a little cheeky.
The bright red of your lips catches the light and it is the last thing he sees before you begin your assault.
Kiss. On his lips.
Kiss. Right cheek.
Kiss. Left cheek.
Kiss. Tip of his nose.
Kiss. The moles on his forehead.
By the tenth kiss, he is roaring in laughter. The kind of laugh that you've only ever heard when he's with you. It's loud, it shakes his entire being, jostling your body that lies on top of his if not for the arms he has wrapped around you to keep you in place.
It's a little ugly, a little silly the way he snorts in between laughs, but it is offset by the unbridled joy so clear to your ears.
The kisses you leave by the corner of his eyes are distorted by the way they're crinkled in laughter. From there, his grin is a permanent fixture as you continue to fill every gap on his face and neck with kisses.
As the tint on your lips slowly fades, his laughter does too, mellowing down into a dopey little smile, eyes bright. You pull back to admire your handiwork, your smile just as dazed.
One arm unravels from your waist to cradle one of your hands still cupping his cheeks. He nuzzles into the touch, eyes tracing over your features, gaze so warm you feel it on your skin. It moves you to lean in once more, to kiss him on the lips.
Longer this time.
And Kiyoomi is more than eager to reciprocate. It's heavier, wetter. More breaths, gasps, and the occasional bites. There is an attempt at deepening the kiss further; Kiyoomi's tongue tracing the seam of your lips. But the giddiness that thrums through him pulls his grin wider. Every time your teeth clash, it makes you laugh into his mouth. It is truly in vain that you try to kiss properly.
When you finally pull away, it is to Kiyoomi mirroring you and cupping your cheeks with both hands.
"What was that for?" He is breathless as he asks. The look on his face no less lovestruck than it was before. The tint on his lips was the most smeared compared to all other kiss marks on his face. It makes you giggle, amused.
"I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You kiss the palm of his left hand to emphasize. "And I wanted to try out the lipstick I bought today." You nod towards the tube sitting innocently on your nightstand.
Kiyoomi shakes his head, chuckling to himself.
He hugs you to his chest, rolling you onto your back, placing himself on top of you. He reaches for the tube of lipstick, smile growing mischievous.
"Guess it's time to return the favor."
#just silly little lovestruck kisses with kiyoomi#happy mwahrch to those who celebrate (me)#i want to kiss him soooo badddd#i bought new lipstick the other day and here we are#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#hq fluff#sakusa fluff#san's blobs#haikyuu#sakusa one shot#sakusa x you#haikyuu fanfic#sakusa fanfic#sakusa drabble#haikyuu drabble
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sakusa takes care of a sick!reader <3
synopsis: granted, it is a bit gross. the sniffling. the sweating. god, the coughing. but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this. just a little.
warnings: none, just some light swearing!
KIYOOMI should not be enjoying this as much as he should.
a steady hand brings another spoonful of soup to his lips, blowing on the contents to cool them off.
"this is humiliating," you groan, opening your mouth as sakusa feeds you now-tepid broth, complete with airplane noises and silly voices, "you don't have to feed me."
watching closely, he smiles softly as you thoughtfully chew and swallow, your sore throat bobbing with the motion. he likes taking care of you. maybe a bit too much, if he's being honest.
"of course i do," he quips, already preparing another spoonful, "i'm your partner. it's my job to take care of you."
"no, no more!" you whine, shaking your head, "i don't want to eat anymore. i'm full."
he frowns. you barely ate today. "give me five more bites of soup and finish the rest of your toast."
you sniffle and nod, opening your mouth to welcome the next spoonful of soup, "did you make this yourself?" you ask, congestion muffling your words. kiyoomi thinks it's the cutest thing he's ever heard.
"yeah, i got the recipe from my mother." a small droplet of soup dribbles out of the corner of your lip, but kiyoomi is quick to act, dabbing away the liquid before it reaches your clothes, "she sends her regards, by the way."
"i love that woman." you babble, "i'm surprised you're not freaked out by all this."
"by what? feeding you?"
"no, like," you open your mouth for another spoonful of soup. sakusa rushes to oblige you, happy that you requested more, "all the germs and stuff. earlier i sneezed and a booger shot across the room. a full 10 feet, at least."
"well when you put it like that, it sounds pretty fucking gross." he frowns.
"i thought it was cool."
"you think everything is cool." he sighs, "especially dumb shit like snot rockets." you giggle at the words 'snot rocket' coming out of his mouth.
"but, no, i'm not freaked out." he adds, setting the chipped bowl to the side when you turn your nose up at the next spoonful, "i think i was at first, but we live together," he shrugs, "i can't really protect myself unless i lock you inside the closet for the next two weeks, and that's not an option. if i get sick, i get sick. i've accepted my fate."
"you could go stay with one of your teammates in the mean time, if you're really bothered by it." you note seriously. you know he's trying to act cool in front of you, but you know how big of a sacrifice this is .
"i'd rather catch the plague." his ears perk up at the sound of your laugh, "besides, if i get sick, you get to take care of me." he grins, "won't that be fun?"
"i might lock you in the closet, actually." he scoffs.
"i'm going to wash your dishes," he pokes your cheek. you make an effort to bite the offensive finger but he moves away too quickly, smiling at his victory, "and when i come back you better be nice again."
you stick your tongue out at him. he returns the gesture.
distantly, you hear him humming to himself over the sound of the the rushing sink water, and something in your brain decides it's the perfect white noise to usher you into a light nap. you hadn't realized you feel asleep until you feel the cough dip, rousing you gently.
"how do you feel, love?" he asks, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead and cheeks.
"sleepy," you mumble, "sleepy and cold."
"don't fall asleep yet," he lightly chastises, "you have to take your medicine now."
"noooo," you cry out, "that shit tastes like shit."
he cracks a smile, "i'm pretty sure it's grape flavored, actually."
you glare at him, "i won't take it."
"it'll make you feel better, though."
you shake your head, "not worth it. i would rather die."
"please, baby? for me?" he gives a dramatic show of puppy-dog eyes and a pout, making every effort to coax you into taking your medicine.
you don't cave, placing your palm over your mouth to emphasize your unwillingness.
"if you don't take your medicine, then you don't love me." he deadpans.
"that's literally gaslighting." you call him out, "you're gaslighting me."
"is it?" he questions, "i don't think you know what actual gaslighting is."
"stop!" you laugh, "that's even more gaslighting."
he smiles handsomely, happy that he was able to shake some giggles from your sore throat, "how about this: what's it going to take for you to take your medicine? anything goes."
"you'd do anything?"
he nods firmly, "whatever it takes."
"alright," his determination makes you flush, "take a nap with me."
it's such a simple request, but if you read in between the lines it sounds more like a declaration of love. kiyoomi's always been slack-jawed at the fact that you actually like him. not despite his flaws, but because of them. your love is all-encompassing, and you've adopted his strange habits into your life and accommodated for them as if they were your own. you never ask him for much, you never push too hard. you deserve the world, and kiyoomi will be damned if he isn't the one to give it to you.
he supposes a nap isn't entirely out of the question.
"i can do that," he responds cooly, "i'll get the cough syrup."
it takes 20 more minutes of bickering before you swallow the spoonful of purple syrup, and another 5 minutes of expressing your distaste following the whole ordeal.
taking the heavy comforters usually saved for the winter months from the closet, he settles himself beneath you as the two of you lie down for an afternoon nap.
you've got an army of pillows and blankets around you, an array of fabrics piled up to your chin. despite the countless layers, you're shivering. oh well, he figures, just another excuse to pull you closer.
guess what!!!!!!!!!! more domestic sakusa!!!!!!!! r u noticing a pattern!!!!!
#sakusa#sakusa kiyoomi#kiyoomi#kiyoomi sakusa#msby sakusa#sakusa fluff#sakusa x reader#sakusa fic#sakusa one shot#sakusa imagine#sakusa imagines#hq sakusa#hq x reader#msby x reader#msby#haikyuu#msby sakusa kiyoomi#domestic.sakusa
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not proofread, kiyo being a dick to atsumu, anxious reader
you sigh in relief when the cold midnight air greets you like an old friend. you smile and hug your cardigan closer to yourself, closing the beautiful french doors of shoyo’s balcony behind you. the party was nice, you would admit, lots of warm food and a very playful , light air about it. the entirety of the jackals was over along with their partners which was alot for you, so as time passed your social battery really couldn’t keep up.
you snuck away after having a conversation with bokuto’s boyfriend, keiji he said his name was. he was the only person apart from your boyfriend that seemed to be more introverted. despite that, you really couldn’t bare to be around anyone anymore. you’d spend the last two hours socialising and listening to atsumu talking about something you couldn’t care less about.
you liked the boys. they’re all very sweet and hardworking, but you just weren’t a party person. you were only here for kiyoomi. he’d explained many times that he didn’t even want to be there, that he’d rather be home with you and your cat, he whined between kisses. you insisted that he went, because he never does. he needs to hold some kind of relationship with his team- they’ll be together for a very long while.
kiyoomi noticed your absence almost immediately but couldn’t find a way to join you without raising suspicion, or worse, risking anyone following him and being the reason you can’t recharge. his thumb and index finger fiddled with his promise ring - the one with your name on it - as his hand was in his pocket. the other held a drink that he didn’t even like. he felt very on edge in crowds and more so when you weren’t with him.
eventually everyone started doing shots and he saw his chance. he slowly snuck out to the balcony where he saw your figure leaned against the wood of it. your boyfriend was very careful to not startle you as he carefully closed the doors behind him. he filled the empty spot beside you with his large figure. you pass him a small smile. he leans against you every so slightly when he realises that his social battery had died too- he just hadn’t noticed.
the weight of him felt good. like your own personal anchor or a weighted blanket. calloused palms rest atop yours and your promise rings align. kiyoomi feels his heart swell at the sight of it, and he finally speaks. “you could’ve taken me too, y’know,” he mumbled. you laugh airily at the whine in his tone, “ this is your team party , kiyo. i can sneak away without people noticing - but you,” you hold a few of his fingers as you make eye contact, “people’ll notice if you’re not there. especially atsumu.” you giggle at the last bit. he shoves you softly, “god knows i’d rather he didn’t,” he chuckled. “i think it’s cute how much they admire you, ki,” you say softly . he hums, you feel the vibration in his throat right above your forehead. “i guess..? i just, i like it when they’re not loud about it. i like silent appreciation.” he explains to you. now you hum, he always has been that way.
“i guess not everyone shows it the same,” you tutted playfully. he casts an affectionate gaze your way. “we can leave soon if you want,” kiyoomi offers. you brush his battered knuckles against the soft of your lips, not even glancing at him. if you did, you’d see the magenta hues on his cheeks and the hooded sensuality in his gaze. “ if you really want to,” you hummed. kiyoomi did want to go. he wanted to leave and be alone with you, to protect and nurture the energy in him. to be in a familiar and comforting presence as your own.
however he couldn’t bring himself to move , to grab for his keys. the intimacy of the moment felt surreal to him. the bite of the air, the steamy breath of yours on his hand, the muffled music and laughter just a few rooms away. it felt like he wasn’t in his body- because a few years ago he never thought he’d experience love this way. in a way that makes everything else stupid. in a way that makes him feel that maybe the way he loves isn’t stupid.
kiyoomi’s lips find yours easily. his broad palms holding your jaws as yours lazily link around his slender hips. his lips mesh with yours, the taste of shitty beer evident on his tongue and the smell of tom ford on his skin. your thumb searches for skin, finding it under his hoodie and rubbing at the tender flesh. he sighs dreamily into you.
he pulls away, the air fogging up when he breathes from how cold it’s getting. “ maybe we should-“,” woah, omi.”
atsumu’s voice brings rage to kiyoomi like never before. the blond continues. “ didn’t know you had it in ya to just make out with your partner like this. props, i guess,” atsumu laughed. your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “miya , i’d appreciate it if you left us alone, there’s a reason we took a fucking hike from the room,” your boyfriend spat. atsumu winces at the harsh tone, and you almost feel bad for him. part of you knows he was just making a little joke and that you should ask kiyoomi to say sorry, but he takes your hand before you can say anything. you hear the jingle of keys that were tethered to your boyfriend’s belt loops.
in no time, you’re in the car and driving. “ that was mean, what you said to atsumu,” you say , breaking the silence. kiyoomi glances at you, not a tinge of annoyance in his gaze that you’d usually see if he disagreed. he nods curtly. “ i know, i was mad,” he answered. you look at him, “ you cant be mean just because you’re mad, ki,” you scold softly. he nods once more. “ i shouldnt, i just felt annoyed . i didn’t even wanna go in the first place, i finally got comfortable and he just came and shat all over it with some dumbass joke,” he explains. you purse your lips.
“ no more parties if you don’t want to,” you say. he spares you another glance and there’s two beats of silence. “ .. promise ?” he asks like a child. you nod at him and you feel a large hand on yours over the console . kiyoomi feels a warmth spread through his middle, into his chest, all over him. a peace he can only get from you. no matter who upset him or chose to ignore the way he is, whoever disagreed with his habits- you would always understand. you kept him sane.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#sakusa kiyoomi#kiyoomi sakusa#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa headcanons#sakusa kiyoomi headcanons#sakusa one shot#sakusa fluff#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#domestic sakusa fluff#sakusa kiyoomi x gn reader#sakusa imagines#sakusa scenarios#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff
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MISTER OBLIVIOUS, EYES ON HIM
what's it? general
allergen warning/s? n/a
sugar level? 0.4k
name for the orders? sakusa kiyoomi, akaashi keiji, ojiro aran, sawamura daichi, iwaizumi hajime
regulars? @tahonet @hanayanetwork
bon appetit!
he's absolutely oblivious to how attractive how he is, how he manages to charm people around him without putting any effort in it at all and it's irritating and agitating to people around the world who are trying their best to woo the girl next door, only to fail.
whenever he enters a room, all eyes immediately shift towards him, someone who's dressed in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. he carries himself with a quiet confidence, not cockiness, but confidence. if you look hard enough, you may even spot some people who's jaws have dropped at the angel-like beauty of the man who just entered the room so nonchalantly, like he didn't cast a spell on ninety nine percent of the people seated there.
beating fast was the heart of the person who managed to get lucky enough to sit next to him, something some people found themselves jealous of and they knew it was weird and immature of them because they do not know who this man is and there's a very big chance they'll never see them again - and you can bet that they are very upset about this fact - yet they can't help themselves. they are unable to shake this envious feeling off.
he looked even better in person when you can see the finer details of his face. it wasn't clear, yet the old acne scars that one could only assume was from his teenage years, the superficial wrinkes, the pores, the facial texture only added to his beauty. eyes were pretty, not only one single shade of color, though of course there was one that's dominant. from up close, you can see different hues specks designed across his irises, as if it was a project by a gods, perfected and specially made to grace the people of this earth. his hair laid perfectly on top of his head. although there were a couple of fly aways, it suit him. it made him look better and maybe that's a concept difficult to grasp for some people, but that's because they haven't had the blessing that is to see this man looks like a god amongst mortals.
you pity them.
a hand raised to brush a stray strand of hair from his visage and the person next to him couldn't help but swallow and look away, yet that didn't last very long. the temptation to look at this man again was so intense it was almost painful.
yet he doesn't know this
several people have tried to tell him this, friends, teammates, and fans alike, but he never really believed them. not wholeheartedly, anyway.
instead, he continues to be mister oblivious with eyes on him.
SAKUSA, akaashi, OJIRO, SAWAMURA, iwaizumi
i get: reblog
you get: strawberry pocky
#order of the day!#order up for sakusa!#order up for akaashi!#order up for ojiro!#order up for sawamura!#order up for iwaizumi!#one black sesame mochi#with a side of peach italian ice#sakusa x reader#sakusa#sakusa one shot#akaashi#akaashi x reader#akaashi one shot#ojiro aran#ojiro aran x reader#ojiro aran one shot#daichi#daichi x reader#daichi one shot#iwaizumi#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi one shot
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Mysophobia (Yandere Sakusa)
Please don’t request any phobias. I just felt like making this for fun.
Be kind to me, I'm still not good at writing NSFW
Title: Mysophobia
Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, NSFW, NONCON, degradation
Phobia: The fear of germs
Sakusa never touched you without wearing gloves. The plastic always felt cold against your bare skin- he didn’t allow you to wear any clothing.
He was a complete germaphobe- constantly washing the sheets and you. You ended up in the bathtub at least once a day, with him watching over you, making sure you scrubbed well enough to get rid of all the impurities.
If he wanted you to touch him, he forced you to put on hand sanitizer before demanding your touch.
He called you all sorts of things. Disgusting. Pig. Slut. You couldn’t say anything in response unless you wanted his glove-clad fingers shoved down your throat.
Like most days, you laid on your sterile sheets, looking up at the ceiling. Waiting for Sakusa to come back. Because as much as you hated him, at least he wasn’t boring.
The door clicked and you sat up, on edge despite how relieved you were to see Sakusa. He opened the door, wearing his signature mask and gloves. He gave you a once over before saying, “You’re sweaty.”
You knew what that meant. Bath time for the second time today. Your skin was still raw from his earlier scrubbing.
Sakusa pulled a key out of his pocket and turned to your handcuffs, unlocking them. You rubbed at the marks they left behind, soothing the sore skin. Sakusa didn’t give you a chance to appreciate your newfound freedom, his glove-clad hand grabbing your upper arm and hauling you to your feet.
He dragged you to the bathroom, but you didn't put up much of a fight. Bath time was the same every time- Sakusa would scrub your skin raw and you'd sit there and take it. Then, he would bring you back to the bed and watch some TV with you until you both fell asleep.
Sakusa turned on the faucet and tested the water as it fell into the bathtub. You obediently began to strip, just as you knew he wanted. You waited silently until he backed away from the tub, silently motioning for you to climb inside.
It was a huge tub, easily big enough for two people. Sometimes Sakusa used it too, but those were the worst days.
One look at Sakusa’s lap told you it was one of those days.
Sakusa began to strip unceremoniously, letting his dick spring up out of his boxers and hit his stomach, leaving a spot of precum where it connected. You swallowed thickly, knowing what was to come.
Sakusa opened one of the bathroom drawers and pulled out a condom. Even with you on birth control, Sakusa needed a condom to fuck you. Cum was too messy for him, after all.
He climbed into the tub and laid down, grabbing your hips and forcing you to straddle him. He tapped his cockhead against your clit a few times just to see you jolt, then shoved two of his gloved fingers into your cunt. He wasted no time, immediately scissoring your tight pussy apart, preparing you for his sizable member.
He removed his fingers from your cunt and made a disgusted noise when he saw that his gloves were shining with your slick. He put his fingers in the water, brow still furrowed in disdain. Sometimes you wondered why he even fucked you if it was too messy for him. But Sakusa just couldn’t help himself.
His hand came up and massaged your breast, eliciting a soft moan from you. His mouth twisted into a grimace, “You’re such a slut.”
You tried to ignore his comment, but you still felt hurt by his words. You couldn’t help how your body reacted, it was just natural.
Without further teasing, Sakusa began to push against the opening of your cunt until the head of his cock popped inside and the rest followed in one sharp thrust. You let out a squeak, placing both of your hands on his chest for balance.
Sakusa got angry at that, “Take your hands off of me, you disgusting slut.”
You quickly did as he said, removing your hands from his chest and seekingt purchase oin the sides of the tub. Meanwhile, Sakusa thrusted up into you, pushing up and up until his tip pressed against your deepest parts. Somehow, even behind his mask, you could tell, he was grinning wickedly.
Sakusa drew his hips back and began a brutal pace, bruising your cervix with each thrust. He didn’t allow you to get used to a pattern- occasionally stopping just to throw you off rhythm. You gasped and moaned and this time, instead of criticizing you, he groaned softly back, the sound muffled by his face mask.
He gave a couple extra rough thrusts before he shuddered and came. You followed right after him, the feeling of the condom inflating sending you over the edge. Sakusa pulled out and watched as you gasped for breath, laying back in the tub as his dick softened and slipped from your cunt. He stood up, removed his condom, and threw it in the garbage, glaring at it in disgust the entire time. He looked down and surveyed his dick, which was dripping white cum into the water below.
“We have to run a new bath. Get out,” Sakusa snapped.
You weren’t sure you could even move your legs.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere haikyuu#haikyuu!!#yandere one shot#one shot#yandere sakusa#sakusa kiyoomi#tw noncon
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𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫'𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞 ✯ 𝐊.𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚
"𝙁𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙮, 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚. 𝙄'𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙮"
PAIRING. Sakusa Kiyoomi x f!Reader
CONTENT. angst
The olympic volleyball player, Sakusa Kiyoomi finds himself grappling with the complexities of his relationship with Y/N as it becomes public knowledge.
WC. 1.3K
A/N. Release this song for streaming alr Taylor.
Masterlink - Songs Unwritten
𝓣he sunlit stadium buzzed with excitement as the much-anticipated volleyball tournament unfolded before a cheering crowd. The spacious arena boasted a grand design, with towering stands that could accommodate thousands of enthusiastic fans. The atmosphere was electric, with vibrant colors adorning the venue, reflecting the energy and spirit of the event.
The central focus of the stadium was the immaculately prepared volleyball court, situated at the heart of the action. Its pristine surface, made of smooth, polished wood, gleamed under the radiant floodlights. The boundaries of the court were marked with bold, contrasting lines, providing clear demarcation for the players and ensuring fair play.
On either side of the court, towering electronic scoreboards loomed large, displaying the current match score, set information, and timers, ensuring that no fan missed a moment of the thrilling encounters. Enormous high-definition screens were strategically positioned around the stadium, broadcasting close-up shots of the players and captivating slow-motion replays, further enhancing the spectator experience.
The stadium was divided into different sections, each designated for different categories of spectators. The VIP section, with its plush seating and impeccable service, catered to prominent figures from the sporting world, celebrities, and high-ranking officials. The regular seating area, stretching across multiple levels, offered comfortable chairs with ample legroom, ensuring a pleasant viewing experience for the enthusiastic fans. In one of these seats was Y/N L/N.
And in the court, among them stood Sakusa, a talented volleyball athlete whose dreams were woven into each powerful spike. But beneath his cold exterior lay a shadow of doubt, a fear that threatened to unravel the fragile connection he shared with the girl who held his heart, Y/N.
Their love had blossomed amidst the thunderous applause and echoing cheers of the volleyball arena. The court had been their sanctuary, where they exchanged glances filled with unspoken promises and whispered sweet nothings in the midst of practice sessions. But as their relationship deepened, so did Sakusa's apprehension about revealing their love to the public.
Their paths crossed during a brief break, as they both reached for water bottles at the vending machine. Y/N mustered the courage to strike up a conversation, her voice laced with genuine interest.
"Great game out there! Your spikes are impressive," she complimented, her eyes twinkling with admiration.
Sakusa turned to face her, a charming smile that was covered by his mask but you could still see the outline of. His gaze met hers, and in that moment, something unspoken passed between them.
"Thank you," he replied, his voice cold but his tone with gratitude. "Do you play volleyball yourself?"
Y/N's laughter danced on the breeze as she shook her head, a playful glint in her eyes.
"No, I'm just here to enjoy the game and cheer on the players. But who knows, maybe I'll give it a try someday."
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, as if they had known each other for years. They shared stories, dreams, and the occasional witty banter that drew smiles and laughter from both of them.
Days turned into weeks, and their bond grew stronger with each passing encounter. The whispers of an undeniable connection filled the air, igniting a flame of hope within Y/N's heart. Sakusa, too, felt an inexplicable pull towards her, as if they were two puzzle pieces meant to fit together.
One evening, as they sat together on the beach, watching the sun dip below the horizon, Sakusa turned to Y/N with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.
"Y/N, I have something important to tell you," he began, his voice tinged with anticipation. "I promise you, soon, I will announce our relationship to the world. I want everyone to know how much you mean to me."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed with a mixture of joy and anticipation. She had waited for this moment, for Sakusa to embrace their love publicly, to stand up for their relationship.
But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Y/N found herself tangled in a web of empty promises. The whispers of lies grew louder, circulating among their circle of friends and acquaintances. The announcement Sakusa had promised remained nothing more than a distant dream.
Y/N's heart grew heavy with disappointment, her trust eroding with each passing day. She longed for the validation, for Sakusa to fulfill his word and show the world they were together.
Y/N, with her infectious smile and fiery spirit, was unafraid to showcase their affection to the world. She longed for Sakusa to stand proudly by her side, to declare their love to the world without hesitation. But his reluctance to do so left her feeling unseen and unimportant, an invisible figure in the shadows of his ambitions.
During this match however, rumors swirled through the air, like seagulls riding the wind, spreading their wings of deception. They whispered of a love shared between Y/N and Sakusa, a relationship hidden behind closed doors. As the gossip reached Sakusa's ears, his heart sank. He had hoped to shield Y/N from the harsh realities of public scrutiny, believing that by keeping their love secret, he could protect her from the judgments of others. But the whispers had grown louder, the rumors more persistent, weaving their way into the fabric of their lives.
Y/N's heart ached as she overheard a group of girls conversing nearby. Their voices dripped with disdain, their words weaving a tapestry of hurtful assumptions.
"Did you hear? Sakusa would never date someone as plain looking as her," one of the girls sneered.
"Of course not. He's way out of her league. He's way better off with a Victoria Secret Supermodel," another chimed in, her laughter echoing like shards of broken glass.
The volleyball tournament came to a close, leaving behind a flurry of emotions and weary bodies. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the players and their supporters gathered for the much-anticipated after-party. It was meant to be a celebration of their achievements, a moment of camaraderie. But for Y/N, it would become an evening of isolation and heartbreak.
The room buzzed with laughter and animated conversations, the air filled with a mix of triumph and relief. But amidst the lively atmosphere, Y/N stood on the outskirts, a mere shadow amidst the revelry. The whispers of the rumors still haunted the room, their echoes drowning out her attempts to find solace.
Sakusa, lost in a sea of conflicting emotions, struggled to navigate the space between his love for Y/N and the pressures from the public and his managers. He knew he had let her down, allowing the rumors to drive a wedge between them. Yet, the fear of jeopardizing his career kept him at bay, caught between the love he felt for Y/N and the image he was expected to uphold.
Y/N's heart ached as she watched Sakusa move through the crowd, mingling effortlessly with others. The smile that once brightened her world now seemed distant and unattainable. Her insecurities gnawed at her, pushing her to the edge of despair.
Summoning all her courage, Y/N approached Sakusa in a secluded corner, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and longing.
"Sakusa, please," she implored, her eyes pleading for him to understand. "I can't bear to be ignored any longer. I need you to choose me, to stand up for us, despite what the public and your managers might say."
Sakusa's gaze wavered, torn between the woman he loved and the world he knew. The weight of his indecision etched lines of torment upon his face. He reached out, his hand hesitating in mid-air, but ultimately withdrew.
"I wish it were that simple, Y/N," he whispered, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I don't want to lose everything I've worked for. I'm sorry."
The words landed heavily on Y/N's heart, a final blow to the hope she had clung to. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned away, the weight of rejection pressing down upon her like an iron cloak.
As the party continued, Y/N remained a distant observer, her smiles forced and hollow. She watched as Sakusa mingled with adoring fans and accepted the accolades from his teammates. But with each passing moment, the emptiness within her grew, a void where their love once thrived.
©Minarixx 2023 - please don't copy, repost or translate without my knowledge credit or permission.
#hq sakusa#sakusa kiyoomi#kiyoomi sakusa#sakusa x you#sakusa x y/n#sakusa x reader#sakusa angst#sakusa kiyoomi x you#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#haikyuu one shot#hq oneshot#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x self insert#haikyuu x female reader#sakusa x female reader#msby
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people from my high school are getting married and i run a fucking haikyuu blog
#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu fanfiction#hq fanfiction#haikyu#haikyuu!!#and i still have the biggest fattest crush on matsukawa issei#haikyuu one shot#atsumu miya#haikyuu x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#matsukawa issei#Iwaizumi hajime#osamu miya#suna rintarou#kita shinsuke#Kuroo Tetsurou#kenma kozume#hinata shoyou#tobio kageyama#akaashi keiji#bokuto koutaro#oikawa toru#ushijima wakatoshi
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you know you make my cold heart warm with a touch ; kiyoomi sakusa.
pairing kiyoomi sakusa x f!reader
word count 7.1k
synopsis how else can kiyoomi show you how close to his heart he keeps you than by fucking into you so deep, you’re pretty sure you can feel him reaching for yours?
content contains hurt/comfort, past abusive/toxic relationship (not with any canon characters), clingy & crybaby reader, vaginal fingering, creampie, lots of love declarations, size difference, belly bulge, soft!sakusa <3
You’ve been acting differently lately.
Sakusa’s always been perceptive, especially when it comes to you, but he can’t figure out what exactly went wrong. It starts off with little things, things that he can choose to ignore or brush off easily by chalking it up to you having a bad day or just not being in the mood.
Normally, you’re unlocking the door for him before he can even reach into his pockets to pull out his key. On the instances you’re not, the moment he opens up the door himself, you’re practically sprinting to him, arms wrapping around his body before he can even set his gym bag down, showering his face with kisses and greeting him as if he’s come back from war. Even on the days where you’re sick, you still bundle yourself in fluffy blankets, camping out in the living room, letting out an excited albeit tired “Kiyoomi!” when he makes his way to you.
You barely even greet him when he gets home now. He’s lucky to even get a “oh, hey, Kiyoomi” before you’re returning back to whatever has your attention on your phone screen. He knows it’s probably immature of him, but he kinda misses your overzealous attitude. It’s nice, sometimes, to know that someone likes you enough to miss you and wants to celebrate your return even if you’ve only been gone for a couple of hours.
You’ve always been clingy, and Sakusa’s always been the type of person who doesn’t like people in his personal space. It only takes him a couple of weeks full of longing stares, shy smiles, and him wanting to chase after the scent of your perfume every time you pass him by that makes him realize that it’s not necessarily him not liking people invading his personal space; it’s just that the right person hasn’t ever been by his side before.
He doesn’t care, he realizes, if it’s you. You, going from hesitant to holding his hand to clinging onto his bicep and forearm whenever you two are walking. You, texting him every second you get (there’s a lot of seconds in a day where you’re free), and him using any opportunity he can to FaceTime you.
(He gets a little sad when he’s scrolling through his old texts — really, these are texts from just last week, but the distant behavior you’ve been exhibiting is so far from what he’s used to that it feels like he’s been without his sun for months — and sees that you’re not updating him on your life at a minutely basis. There are no more notifications lighting up his phone screen during his practices, no more texts from [name] 💖 — you added the pink heart; he pretends he’s been too busy to erase it — asking him “are you free to ft?” or “baby i miss u & also look at my nails!!!! i got them to match ur jersey for the game hehe <33333”.)
You would always find some way to be touching him, and even if you’re in separate rooms in the apartment, you would still try to hold a conversation with him despite the walls blocking the flow of it. It’s only been one week, but he’s not sure where this behavior is coming from.
Once you got over your shyness and the tension of being in a new relationship and not wanting to mess it up has completely disappeared, you never had any issues with clinging onto him, practically unashamed at how you always wanted his attention. This behavior would be annoying from anyone else, but it’s you. You, his sweet girl, his cute girl, his perfect girl. The person he wants invading his personal space for the rest of his life, to the point where he’s got a box and a question that’s waiting to be asked.
Usually, you like to suggest for him to take you out for date night. There’s always some new restaurant or club or festival going on, and you seem to always know about them. Tonight, when he asks you if there were any spots you wanted to check out, he’s disappointed but not surprised to hear that you don’t have a preference. Normally, you would talk his ear off in the days leading up to date night, cutely begging him to take you out to whatever spot is trending on social media. Your silence gives him enough answers for the questions he wants to ask.
You’re biting down on your lip as you watch Kiyoomi scroll on his phone. The two of you are in the living room, a rare night in. You hadn’t researched any new date spots because going on social media for you right now is the equivalent of walking into an active minefield with no protective gear. It’s a suicide mission. It’s a death wish. If you feel like crying and throwing up, maybe you would open your phone and click on one of the many articles headlining all the EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS OF MSBY’S SAKUSA COZYING UP WITH SUPERMODEL SAKURA DURING MATCH BREAKS!, but after accidentally stumbling upon the first one, you’ve had enough of MSBY’s Sakusa’s dating speculations to last you a lifetime.
The first night you saw the headline practically screaming at you, curiosity had you in a fucking chokehold. You’ll be fine is what you fooled yourself into believing. Kiyoomi is different.
Besides, stories like these are just clickbait articles that some aspiring journalist looking to make some dinner money will come up with in order to survive. You can’t fault them for wanting to turn something innocent into something wild and completely far off from the truth.
But rumors are rooted in the truth. Something can’t just come from nothing, you know.
You swathed yourself in your comfort blankets, too sad to even go about your day. Not when the photos tell you that maybe Sakusa is cozying up with a supermodel. Not when the article spins a timeline of the potential dating history between him and her. Not when you’re barely mentioned, merely brushed off as Sakusa’s potential ex-girlfriend. (You don’t miss the speculative jab from the author, wondering if there’s a reason why Sakusa doesn’t post you. Even though you already know he’s not the most active person on social media or even that open with his fans about his personal life, it still hurts that your Snapchat memories are filled with nothing but photos and videos of him, and there’s hardly anything including you that he shares online.)
You made a joke one time. Something about how you’re so good at thinking that it only takes a few seconds for you to start overthinking. Overanalyzing. Overdramatizing every minor situation. Over over over ‘cause you’re just overflowing with emotions and feelings, filled with too much to the point where it all spills out, your heart left to bleed out on your sleeves. Everything inside of you is too much for you to handle. Everything about you is too much for anyone to handle.
But for a while, you did a good job in convincing yourself that Kiyoomi Sakusa isn’t like anyone else. He’s definitely not like your ex, the only other person you’ve been with before Kiyoomi. Or maybe, a tiny voice inside your head, the taunting one you haven’t heard from in quite some time, suggests, maybe your ex was right. Maybe all boys will treat you like shit ‘cause you’re not the type of girl worth stressing over.
Toys are only interesting when they’re still shiny and new. Once you see the same tricks performed hundreds of time, it gets boring, and then from there, it’s only a matter of time ‘til it’s replaced with something shiny and new, thrown out to the curb to decay in a landfill with other used up and broken things.
You rationalized, in the beginning of your relationship with Kiyoomi, that you were already a used up, broken toy when he met you. (The way he looks at you, though, makes you forget about those feelings.)
You want to cry your little heart out. You’ve been told by your ex that you’re ugly when you do so, that your little sobs are just pathetic and grating, that it’s stupid of you to cry over shit that doesn’t matter, that he can give you a real reason to cry if you don’t just shut the fuck up. It’s why you rarely ever cry in front of people now — out of fear that maybe it is annoying.
You try to force yourself to get up, to move, to do anything to take your anxious mind off of thoughts about Kiyoomi leaving you for some supermodel, but you can’t. You’re rooted firmly in your little pile of blankets, and all you can do is toss your phone on the floor and burrow yourself deeper into the soft fabric. You’re not quite sleeping when he comes out, so you don’t miss the way Kiyoomi calls out your name when he enters the apartment.
His voice is softer when he repeats your name. You can hear him walking into the bedroom, and even if your eyes are closed, you can still feel his presence when he makes his way to your side of the bed.
You try not to flinch or turn away from him when you feel his cool hand brushing back some of your hair, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. It’s easy not to move away when your natural instinct is to lean into his touch. So, you do a good enough job at remaining still and silent, even when he presses a kiss to your forehead, saying something under his breath that you can’t quite hear.
He leaves the room, and you hear the distinct shut of the front door, the locks turning into place.
Kiyoomi did not return home ‘til later that evening. By the time he does, you’re glad all your tears have dried.
You know the signs of when someone is cheating on you. (Although, your ex-boyfriend had convinced you for a while that it’s not cheating if he doesn’t feel the same emotional connection with the other girls that he does with you. You’re not sure why you bought into all his stories.) How many times did your ex assume you were sleeping before leaving the house to fuck someone else?
It doesn’t help that when you’re doing the laundry, you can smell the faint traces of women’s perfume lingering on his clothes. Perfume that you don’t wear. You almost feel sick to your stomach when the sickly sweet scent hits your nose.
(It’s not the scent making you feel this way; it’s the fact that history has a bad habit of repeating itself, and you’re pairing it with your bad habit of always choosing the worst men to give yourself to.)
You at least have experience this time. Your ex has told you time and time again that he doesn’t like the fact that you’re so overbearing, always wanting to know if he’s ate yet or when he’s coming home. He didn’t like that you always wanted to touch him (unless, of course, he was horny). He didn’t like the fact that you always had to bring up your stupid feelings in every conservation, how you were always under the impression that you two needed to talk things out every time there was a “problem”. He spat the word out at you, making you feel like any time you felt upset about his actions didn’t stem from any rational thoughts but rather your paranoid brain playing tricks on you. It took you a long time to realize that all he was doing was spoonfeeding (more like forcefully shoving down) you nothing but lies used to manipulate you into staying with him.
Kiyoomi’s always been very open, though. For someone who doesn’t talk as much as others, everything he says is what he means. Communicative. He’s communicative. He’s communicative and caring and he listens to you — like really listens to you, down to the most miniscule details about your day you choose to share with him. He treats you so kindly and gently, always giving in to whatever crazy scheme you’re coming up with. He talks about you to his friends — you know this because he actually introduced them to you. Being with Kiyoomi is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.
Up until now, that is.
Now, the unspoken distance between the two of you, the hesitancy to talk to him, the feeling that everything good is about to be snatched away from your greedy hands — now it’s all coming back, slamming into you like a semi truck, hitting you right where it hurts. There’s this familiar feeling washing over you, like you’re tiptoeing, trying to avoid broken glass lest you start bleeding, making a mess, giving him a reason to yell. He’s never yelled at you before. In all the two years you two have been together, Kiyoomi has never taken a harsh tone with you nor has he raised his voice or his hand. He has you beat, both in height and muscle mass, and never has he made you cower in fear from being smaller than him.
You can feel your bottom lip trembling at the thought of him hurting you. He doesn’t seem like the type who would, but you also never would have thought he would ever cheat on you, and look where the two of you are now: sitting on the same couch with enough space between the two of you to be deemed Covid guideline approved, both of you not saying a word.
He’s getting up now, though. There’s a sudden urge to grab at his sleeve, yank him back, beg him not to leave you, to stay for just a second longer — all you need is just a second to convince him that you promise to do a better job in making him happy — and you almost do. The only thing stopping you is your past experience.
Your ex never did like your clingy nature.
You cringe at all the times you’ve made yourself at home by Kiyoomi’s side. You remember how just last week, you’ve been constantly texting him tiny updates about your day. (He always individually replies to each text, but now you’re certain he did it out of obligation.) You did it. You finally did it. You revealed your true nature to the most perfect man in existence, therefore pushing him away from you. You could’ve kept yourself in check! You could’ve… You could’ve watered yourself down, bottled up all those annoying tendencies of yours, keep them hidden away so he wouldn’t be running for the hills.
It’s why you’ve been giving him his space. Isn’t this what he wanted? Kiyoomi’s a man; he definitely wouldn’t want to sit down and listen to you explain how hurt you feel about those dating scandals, articles that were written entirely out of his control. You know he probably doesn’t enjoy the way you’re always so grabby with him, constantly needing to have your greedy hands interlocked with his own, or clutching his arm, or even just holding onto the fabric of his long sleeve shirts. How pathetic and annoying he must think you are.
You can’t help it; you’re crying now. Pathetic little whimpers leave from in between your trembling lips until they morph into something truly hideous and grating — sobs that leave your poor shoulders shaking, vision blurred from all the tears. In an instance, Kiyoomi is kneeling down on the carpet, making himself eye level with you, large hands gently rubbing at your shaking shoulders.
“Don’t.” You turn away from him, letting his hands slip from your body. “If y-you’re going to leave, then just fucking do it, Kiyoomi.”
You don’t like being mean. Maybe it’s because your feelings get hurt so easily or maybe it’s because you’ve got an empathetic heart two times too big for your body or maybe it’s because you’ve been treated so horribly in the past, that the idea of putting anyone through the same pain you’ve felt for years is just horrifying. Maybe it’s all of the fucking above.
You can’t breathe, you can hardly say anything coherent now (not like your jumbled mess of thoughts are helpful), and you’re pushing away the only person you want to hang onto because you’ve never been taught on how to get someone to stay.
(The trick is, you’re not supposed to need to convince the right person to stay.
The fact of the matter is, Kiyoomi Sakusa does not need any convincing to stay.)
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
What’s that supposed to mean? You remember the way your ex spat out the same exact words to you, making you want to sink into the floor and never be heard from again. He was always so good at belittling you, making you feel like maybe you’re turning nothing into something like you always do.
Like you must be doing right now.
It’s all coming back to you now, until you’re curled up on the couch, crying like the world’s gonna end (because if Kiyoomi is truly leaving you, it might as well be). Past and present and the ever so dismal future are blending into the worst movie montage ever in your mind, and you don’t know what to do. You can’t say what’s on your mind because if you do, you’re so sure he’s going to be packing his bags and running for the fucking hills — or worse yet, running to that supermodel who can give him the world while all you give him are migraines. Even if you wanted to talk, it’s not like there’s any way for you to be taken seriously when all your would-be sentences are going to be interrupted with an annoying sob.
You know what it means! You want to shout at him.
Instead, all you do is let out a garbled up sentence that sounds an awful lot like “leave me alone!”.
He’s good at respecting boundaries. He knows when to cross over the line, and when to stay behind it. He sees the caution tape, and he backs up, watching from a respectful distance. It stems from the fact that he’s the type of person who values his own personal space being respected, and he’s never found it hard to keep to himself before. Before you.
He swallows hard. He wants to protest. He wants to reassure you. Most of all, he wants to hold you in his arms and wipe away your tears and get you to tell him what’s causing you all this pain and how can he make it better because he just wants you to feel better. He knows he’s not the boss of you, but for once, he just wants to tell you to trust him and don’t push him away. But if you want him gone, he’ll do it.
He nods, even though he’s not even sure if you’re paying attention to him. He’s slowly getting up, grabbing his phone and the keys. The idea of sleeping on Atsumu’s couch for the night is enough to make him want to break out into hives. The idea that you want him gone is still pushed to the forefront of his mind though. Did he do something wrong? He wants to turn around. He’s barely taken two steps and he wants to turn around, get back down on his knees, and beg you to tell him where he went wrong and how he can fix this mess.
You’ve always been very forthcoming about your wants and needs, though. Almost as if you don’t want to leave room for misinterpretation. The shout of “leave me alone” from you is enough for any person, really, to get the picture.
You wonder if it’s obvious when you cry harder. Of course he’s fucking leaving. You only screamed at him to do so, and Kiyoomi isn’t the type to question you when you seem serious enough about something. It’s the same situation you’ve found yourself in all the time in your previous relationship.
No. It can’t be. You can’t have a repeat of your last relationship.
You get up from the couch, making your way to Kiyoomi who’s already at the front door, but he stands still for a second, turning his head back to watch you practically fall on him. He wraps his arm around your body because that’s what he thinks his body’s been designed to do: hold you, protect you, catch you when you fall. (Everything about him has been adjusted for you: his feet are meant for making his way to you, his mouth is meant to be pressed up against yours, his heart only beats to the rhythm of the syllables of your name…)
“Pl-please don’t.” You cry out. “I’m sorry, ‘Yoomi. Please don’t go to her! I learned my lesson, I pr-promise!” Maybe he’ll think you’re pathetic. Maybe he’s always thought that. But when you have everything to lose, you resort to desperate measures. Maybe hanging onto him will only force him to pull away even harder, but you want to have him in your hands for just a second longer. You’re being selfish and greedy with him, but you can’t find too much fault in yourself (ha! — isn’t that a first?). When you leave someone out in the cold, even a warm touch can set them aflame. You’ve gotten too used to all those sweet, warm feelings you get with him. It would’ve been better if he treated you badly; it would have made him leaving you hurt a little less.
“What?” His eyebrows are furrowed together, but he doesn’t want to push you away to take a closer look at your face. You’re burrowing yourself into him, hands clutching at the front of his sports jacket, and he’s got both arms wrapped around you like he’s scared you’re going to disappear at any second now. “Who is ‘her’? What lesson am I—”
You think he’s cheating.
You think he’s cheating. You think he’s cruel, and a cheater, and a liar, and that he’s some asshole who’s gonna fuck someone else as a means to teach you a lesson.
He wants to get angry. Not at you. He can’t be mad at you. At your ex. The one you always try your hardest not to talk about. The one who’s the reason why you think Kiyoomi’s going to leave you. His hold on you only tightens.
“No, baby.” He tries his hardest to sound gentle, to watch the tone of his voice. You’re sensitive, that he knows. “No, I would never cheat on you.” And then he thinks, how many times have you heard this line?
You’re not crying nearly as hard, but you still refuse to look up at him, and he refuses to push himself back to take a proper look at you.
“C’mon, baby, talk to me. Please.” He’s not the type of person who begs, but he’s pleading with you now. “You can yell at me, scream at me, but just tell me what you’re thinkin’ about. I’ll tell you everything you want, you just have to ask me.”
Eventually, you do pull a tiny fraction away from him, just so you can look up at him. “Are you cheating on me?” The moment the question leaves your mouth, you want to run away and cover your ears so you don’t hear the answer.
The hurt expression on his face is too real for any actor to impersonate.
“You are the only person I want to be with, [Name].” It’s not the conviction that he says the words with that has you believing him. It’s the way he’s looking at you. You’ve never been looked at like this before.
No, you realize. Kiyoomi’s always looked at you like this.
“Your clothes smelled like perfume. There are literally dozens of articles saying you’re in a relationship with a supermodel, and you were going to walk out—”
“I was asking Sakura what women liked.” Most people would roll their eyes at you right now. They would not be stroking your cheek or speaking to you so kindly, as if you didn’t just accuse them of being a cheater. “I wanted to get you an anniversary gift, and she brought perfume samples from the company she does commercials for. I’ve got a bottle wrapped up, hiding in my sock drawer for you that smells exactly like it, if you don’t believe me.” But he’s frowning now. “I never knew you cared about those articles.”
You don’t. Because every other time it comes up, you make a comment about the latest headline featuring your boyfriend’s name, and every time, he follows it up with a rant about how annoying journalists can be and how speculative fans only serve to instigate the drama some more. You think his rants are funny; it’s the only time he ever talks as much as you do, and there’s so much genuine dislike for the articles that you know you have nothing to worry about.
“I really don’t. It’s just…”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“…you don’t want me to?” Your voice sounds like you’re on the verge of tears again.
“I love hearing you talk to me, baby, but you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want me to know, y’know that?”
“My ex said that no guy wants to hear about my bullshit feelings.”
“I’m going to kick his ass one day.” Kiyoomi mutters this in your ear as he leans down even further to give you a quick, reassuring kiss on your lips.
“So violent, ‘Yoomi.” For the first time this week, you find yourself smiling as he kisses your nose and then your whole entire face, from your tear streaked cheeks to the edge of your jaw. You’ve always been leaning towards being a pacifist, but the idea of Kiyoomi willing to get his knuckles bloody for you has you smiling even wider. Maybe some violence is a bit justifiable.
“I want to hear everything about you.” He scoops you up, carrying you bridal style, letting you wrap your arms around his neck to hang on to him. “I want to know everything there is to know about you.”
“You already do.” You admit. It’s proven in the five hours FaceTime calls, the hundreds of texts you spam him with, the way you give him a play-by-play of your whole entire day the entire time you two are cooking dinner together. He knows that bitch you soft blocked on your Instagram, your favorite meals, the names and faces of all your friends to the point where he feels like they could be his by extension.
He’s heading straight for the bedroom, gently kicking open the door that was never fully shut to begin with.
“Really? Let’s do a little quiz then.” He sets you on the bed before slotting his body over yours, arms resting on either side of you, thoroughly caging you in. You don’t feel trapped, not in the slightest. There’s a sort of warm comfort in knowing that Kiyoomi’s always gonna be your shield from the world.
“Favorite color?” You let out a giggle as you feel his lips press against your neck, the curls of his hair tickling your jaw as he sucks on your soft skin, eager to leave a mark on you.
“Highlighter yellow. At least, that’s what you told me before.” You can feel the way his lips move when they work to form the words he says. He’s going to leave an array of hickeys on your neck, you just know it.
You like highlighter yellow; not because it’s the most aesthetically pleasing color in the world — far from it, to be honest — but it’s the color of the track jacket he was wearing when you first met him.
You curl your fingers in his hair, sinking further into the fluff of the comforter set. “Correct. That’s one point for you, ‘Yoomi.”
“Did the salon ever get that color of yours you like so much back in stock?” He pretends like he’s trying to remember the color name, but it’s clear it’s already been resting on the tip of his tongue, what with the fluidity he manages to say “OPI’s Dulce De Lece”. You whined about having to pick a different shade of pink since they ran out of your signature color. You did this over FaceTime a week ago and only made one complaining comment about it before moving on. You didn’t expect him to remember.
He did, though, and for some reason, that means the absolute world to you.
(How could you ever doubt him?)
“Bonus points for you, ‘Yoomi.” You hum, running your fingers through his hair. “Don’t overthink this one question, okay?” As if. There’s only one room for an intense overthinker in this relationship, and she’s currently being smothered by her boyfriend, feeling completely overwhelmed with all the affection he’s giving her and enjoying every second of it. “Who do I love the most?”
He pauses his ministrations before pulling away from your neck, sitting up straight.
“Do I get a hint?” He rests a hand on your hip, running his hand up and down the side of your body.
“He’s got his hands all over me, and he’s been sucking on my neck like he’s a character from Twilight.” You smile at him, and he thinks his heart could combust from being so overworked at such a sweet, simple gesture from you.
“Sounds like a pervert.”
“He’s actually a really great guy, ‘specially when you get to know him.”
“Can’t be that great.”
“Well, I think he’s the best.”
“Oh, yeah?” He’s lifting up your shirt (it’s actually his; you’re a bit of a thief, aren’t you?). “What makes him ‘the best’?”
“He’s six four.” You lift your body up just the slightest so it’s easier for him to remove the shirt from your body. He should’ve known you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, and all he can see covering you is a pair of pink panties.
“Okay, that sounds pretty impressive. Don’t tell me you’re just using him for his body, though.”
“I’m not. You wanna know somethin’ crazy? I fell in love with him before I even focused too hard on his body.”
“Hmm. Now that’s definitely crazy.” He’s unzipping his jacket, tossing it the ground, his shirt following soon after.
“He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met in my life. You should see the way he treats me.” You take a hand to trace his abs, looking up at him and admiring the view. He must’ve existed in a past life; there’s no other explanation for why he fits the description of Adonis. “I don’t think there’s anyone else out there for me… Not that it matters, since I’m never letting him go any time soon.” You tap your lips to let him know what you want, and you meet him halfway for the kiss, too excited to have him near you to wait for him.
“Good. I don’t plan on letting you go, either.” He seals his statement with a kiss, only this time, it’s deeper and burns with the passion underlying his words. You’re pressed against the sheets that smell like him, and he’s lifting your hips for you, tugging at your panties.
Kiyoomi knows everything about you. He knows you down to your elementary school experiences, how you can’t sleep at night unless he’s got his arms wrapped around you, how he can always count on you to send him videos of you doing your daily fit check because you love to share everything about your life with him.
He also knows that the best way to get you prepped to take his cock is for him to properly stretch you out first. He’s kissing you as his hand finds itself in between your legs, rubbing your folds, smearing your slick all over.
Kiyoomi’s hands are always so nice. You like to fiddle with his fingers, trace the veins on his hands, and rub the calluses on his palms. His hands are especially nice whenever his fingers are knuckles deep in your wet cunt, his middle and ring finger slowly thrusting in and out of you, as if he’s scared going faster will hurt you.
You know the truth, though. Kiyoomi likes to start off slow because he knows that at your core, you’re a ridiculously easy person to make a mess of. It hasn’t even been a minute yet, and you’re already thrusting up your hips, tiny whines trying to plead with him to do it faster, to do it deeper. Your manicured hands — paid for by none other than himself — grab at his wrist, but your strength isn’t enough to control his own movements, and then he realizes that you’re not trying to control his pace.
You just want to be touching him in any way you can.
“‘Yoomi, please.” You look up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you can manage, your bottom lip jutting out just the slightest. “I need you so bad.”
“I know, baby, but you know I have to prep you first.” He coos, feeling the way you only get wetter with every thrust of his fingers. His eyes darken when he looks down and sees what a mess you’re making, sees what a mess you are. Hips rutting up, cheeks flushed, desperate and whiny all for him — just for him — and all it took to get you like this was just two fingers. They scissor from within you, stretching against your warm walls, and no matter how long his fingers are, they still aren’t hitting deep enough to satiate his greedy girl. You’re so wet that he’s sure he can hear the distinct sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you, even over your cute little moans.
“I can t-take it now, Kiyoomi.” You whine at your boyfriend, hand still circling around his wrist, tugging at it, trying to get him to remove his fingers and replace them with his cock.
No, you can’t. It happens like this every time. The fact of the matter is that unless he’s made you cum at least twice before even thinking about fucking you with his cock, you can’t take him. Your poor hole is just a bit too tiny to handle his length, and it doesn’t matter that you’re so wet that your juices are forming a little wet spot on the sheets. It doesn’t matter that he’s spent some time stretching you out with his fingers, relishing in your whines and the way your slick seems to travel from his fingers down to his wrists.
Before he can gently remind you that, no, baby, you can’t, you’re already babbling out how you’re sure you can take him.
“Please, Omi, I missed you so much.”
Your eyes are wide, and you look as if you’re about to cry at the concept of him wanting to take his time with you. He spoils you, you know. Even when he shouldn’t. Even when he knows better. But a man’s will can only be so strong. You can’t be mad at him for giving in to your pleas. He knows his cock, at least, has no protests for what he’s about to do.
You’re practically salivating at the sight of him and his cock — long and hard with the tip flushed red, sticky with pre.
You can’t help but let out a moan, a blissful smile on your face as you feel him gently prod your entrance with just the tip. Most of the time, he doesn’t mean for his actions to be teasing; he just can’t bring himself to do anything without the proper precautions being put in place first. You can tell he’s still hesitant to fuck you when he swears up and down that his precious girl can’t handle him, but for once in your life, you’re fine — more than fine, really — with being treated without care.
Just like your Kiyoomi knows you so well, you know him to the same extent. You know that all it takes for his strong, almost noble resolve, is for you to look up at him so sweetly, so adoringly, and to pretty please ask him to fuck your needy cunt.
“Omi, I can’t wait anymore.” You spread your legs even wider, proud to show off your little hole clenching around nothing.
“Fuck.” He hisses under his breath as his hands grip onto your hips, holding you in place as forces his way into your tight cunt.
“Fuck.” He swears again, the feeling of your warm walls clenching around his cock nearly overwhelming him. He’s rutting his hips against yours, short strokes that won’t satisfy for long, but it’s enough for the two of you now. He’s moving without consciously even thinking about it, too lost in just how good you feel for him. “You were made for me.”
It has to be true. It has to be true because never in your life has someone ever managed to find spots inside of you that can have you cumming in a matter of minutes. It has to be true because Kiyoomi’s never felt like he’s right where he needs to be ‘til the first time he ever fucked you. It has to be true because there’s no pain recognition when he starts thrusting into you deeper. His grip should be bruising, but all it does is keep you anchored in reality.
You’re surrounded by sheets that smell like the safest place you’ve ever known, and you’re getting treated like a fucking princess. You feel adored, you feel happy, you feel loved, you feel blissfully fucked out, especially when his next thrust is even sharper, hitting a spot within you that has you squealing out his name.
“Can you feel it, sweetheart?” His jaw is tense, eyes unsure of whether to focus on the cute faces you make as he splits you apart with his dick or the distinct bulge of a cock too big for your poor body to handle. “Can you feel how deep I’m fucking you?”
“Y-yeah. Always fuck me s’good!” You try to look down, staring at the imprint of his cock poking through your belly with hearts in your eyes. You tap on one of his hands, pointing to your stomach, and he lets out a breathless chuckle.
“Shit — you always feel so fuckin’ good.” He answers your unspoken request for him to press down on the bulge. His large palm rests on your belly, and you make a move to place your hand over his.
“I love you, ‘Yoomi. I love you so, so much. I’ll never love anyone else! I—” Your constant streams of little love confessions gets interrupted with a moan. It’s high pitched, grating on the ears, but neither of you care. Your hips are bucking up, legs lifted and trying to close the space as you cum.
He’s so good to you. Omi is always so, so good to you. He lets you ride out your orgasm, cooing words of praise, telling you how you’re such a perfect princess and that you’re so pretty when you’re cumming, sweetheart. He rubs at your clit, the added stimulation only prolonging your pleasure, and the euphoria from your high leaves your vision hazy and your overthinking brain too fucked out to think about anything but how much you absolutely love him.
Only when he’s certain that you’re finished does he resume his original backbreaking thrusts. You can’t tell if it’s a consequence of just cumming or not, but you think he’s going even harder now. You’re staring at him with nothing but heart eyes and a dazed smile, content to let him use your cunt freely. His curls are sticking to his forehead that’s slick with just the slightest bit of sweat. His cheeks are flushed a dark pink, and his brows are furrowed, and the sight is as pretty as it is pornographic.
“I’m close, baby, I’m close.” He mutters, leaning down to kiss you on your lips. You’re still too tired to properly reciprocate, but you try your best. It’s sloppy and not at all romantic, but you don’t care. You just like being connected with him, in any way possible. He’s not going to last for much longer; not with the way you’re clamping down on him, not with the way you look at him like he personally hung up the constellations in the sky in your honor, not with the way you look so vulnerable and tiny underneath him.
“Cum for me, Omi. Pretty please? I wanna— I need your cum.” You know just the right things to say to him.
He presses into you so deeply that his hips are against yours. The concept of personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you, not now, not ever. He kisses you as he cums, groaning against your mouth as he spills inside of you. The warmth of him is overwhelming, and you still can’t get enough. You’re greedy, you know it, but Kiyoomi doesn’t mind in the slightest.
His forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard, both of you so close that the air you exhale is his to inhale.
“I love you, you know that?” His voice is breathless, chest rising and falling, cock softening inside of you. He pulls out, the move practiced and precise as he tries to make sure his cum still stays in you. He rubs at your hip gently, reassuringly.
Omi is the only thing you’re capable of saying. You stretch out your arms, and all he does is give you a tired smile. He wants to bathe you first, wants to take care of you and clean you up so the two of you don’t have to fall asleep while coated in sweat and cum.
But he gives in to you (because when does he not?). He lays down beside you, pulling you closer to his body to the point where you’re practically on top of him, snuggled against his bare chest, face perfectly angled to hide in the crook of his neck.
“I’ll love you forever, ‘Yoomi.” You yawn out, clinging to him as your eyelids droop.
Yeah? He sure hopes so. If not, he does have a backup plan; the jeweler who he bought the ring from said it would make you love him forever, too.
#hq smut#hq x reader#sakusa smut#kiyoomi smut#kiyoomi sakusa x reader#sakusa x reader#one shot#lemon#haikyuu smut
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new haikyuu vleague official art chibis
(click for quality)
look at teeny suna isnt he so cute :,) his little fox hands awwww 😭🌹🌹
#haikyuu#haikyuu one shot#haikyuu vleague#official art#sunarin#suna rintaro#suna rintarou#komori motoya#bokuto koutaro#atsumu miya#sakusa kiyoomi#ushijima wakatoshi#hinata shoyo#kageyama tobio#oikawa tōru#oikawa tooru#x reader#smut#timeskip
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Hi!! I think the last time I sent you an ask was around two weeks ago, I can finally go on a mild break lol. I was wondering if I could request a military au with sakusa or if it’s much better for you to do a hogwarts one instead! Anyways, it’s no worries if you cannot but have a nice day/night :)
hi anon!! here's a lil hogwarts sakusa for u ^-^
sorry i took so long! im not sure how i feel about this one, but i figured i made you wait long enough. so here u go :D
pairing: slytherin!sakusa x reader
PART TWO is out now!
masterlist
the first time you’d ever laid eyes on your crush, sakusa kiyoomi, was in the library at hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.
sakusa kiyoomi (aka “the prettiest slytherin to ever exist in the history of hogwarts!” claimed your best friend) was one of the most famous quidditch players and one of the most promising scholars. yet, he happened to be sitting there in that perfect, sunny spot near the back of the library: the spot you’d been eyeing until you saw his dark, curly hair occupying the whole table.
for the first few weeks, when you’d come in at your usual time, hoping that the spot would be free, he’d be there before you and he always sat in the same spot.
then one day, it was just his spot.
he often kept to himself despite the friends he’d made playing on the quidditch team. while his teammates could be seen teasing and hanging around the dark-haired boy, it wasn’t rare to see sakusa act like they didn’t exist. that was, perhaps, his favorite method of getting people to leave him alone.
over the course of the semester, you began to take an interest in sakusa.
sakusa, you realized, liked sitting by the window because that lessened the chances of people sitting near him. his table was secluded and in the back of the library, which meant that anyone who’d roam the aisles of books would still not be able to find him unless they were looking for him. he sat on the side against the wall, so that the warm sunlight that would often shine through the huge, open windows would hit his table perfectly.
you’d sit on the opposite side of the aisle and across the room, and that meant you got a great, uninterrupted view of the quiet and brooding slytherin.
you noticed the books he liked reading were books about muggles. it made you wonder why he took such a liking to the topic — considering he came from an affluent, pure-blood wizarding family. everybody in the wizarding world (and even some in the human world!) knew who the sakusas were, for it was unusual if the average wizarding person didn’t know who the family was. (especially because every member of the family was well known for having a particularly niche talent)
it was also famously known that sakusa kiyoomi hated germs; he always had a mask hiding his face and the only people that knew what he looked like were people who went to see him play. you were not one of those people.
you hoped that you’d get to see the bottom half of his face one day — but seeing his gorgeous dark eyes and abnormally long eyelashes was sufficient for you at the moment.
as the weeks went by, observing and learning new things about sakusa kiyoomi became one of your favorite pastimes. most of the time, he would just sit there and just read, leaving you the perfect opportunity to admire his beauty from afar.
he’d rarely ever do his homework and no one ever came to visit his table. well, it was obvious why no one would sit at his table.
that’s because sakusa kiyoomi was a person you’d never want to approach. especially because his presence is so overwhelmingly intimidating.
you also noticed that girls would roam the aisles of the library, and upon seeing sakusa sitting alone by the window, they’d stop and sneakily try to admire him. it’s like they were trying to muster up enough courage to make a move. after the first few girls, the information spread like wildfire. most of the time, their staring and hesitance was obnoxiously distracting because you knew that they’d come to the library with the knowledge that sakusa often hung out in the back. all you could do was laugh quietly at their fruitless attempts and hesitance in approaching him because of his strong presence.
no one had enough courage to approach him yet.
it took about two months before you finally interacted with sakusa. you remember your first encounter with him vividly. when you arrived at your usual time, you glanced over to sakusa’s spot to see that he was nowhere to be found. you thought it was strange considering that he was always there before you and well into reading whatever book he chose that day. as you settled into your chair and laid out all your things for your study session, an hour passed by.
and finally, in walks sakusa.
he doesn’t bother to look your way, per usual, as he heads towards his spot; but as you watch him take his seat and settle in, you notice his unusual behavior.
he moves slower than what can be considered a normal pace, and as he sits down, he sinks down into his chair like he’s melting. he rests his head on the back of the chair and with his eyes closed, he sighs loudly. note: loudly enough to make you look up at him from your books.
you force yourself to stop staring at him in fear that he’ll catch you and turn to you with a stern look and furrowed eyebrows. (you like to imagine every scenario possible in order to be prepared for it, in the unlikely event that it actually happens)
as you flip through your books as an attempt to focus on your homework and find the answer you’re looking for, he indirectly commands your attention again by sneezing multiple times. the sound makes you flinch because of the sheer volume of it. out of habit and without a second thought, you mutter, “bless you.”
he turns.
when he meets your eyes for the first time, you realize he is looking at you like that because he never knew you were there to begin with.
you are just a stranger.
“thanks.” he replies politely and his voice is shockingly deep and even has a rasp to it.
as you sit there, thinking about that bewildering expression on his face(well, what you can see from his mask), you want to be offended that it seems he never once noticed your presence. but, you choose to focus on something else. even though you’d never heard a word come out of his mouth before, you know it to be true. that’s when you put two and two together to realize that the infamous germaphobe of slytherin has come (back down to earth) with a cold.
(after this encounter, this is the only word you hear from sakusa for a long time. you committed his voice to memory the moment he said it.)
eventually, he just stops reading the book he brought. he closes the book–this time, it was a book called twilight, you think but it was hard to decipher the title from afar—and gently lays it down to rest his head on his arms. his eyes flutter shut and he sniffs as quietly as he can manage. as you look onto his sleepy figure, you decide that it’d be a shame to let this opportunity go to waste.
you head off to the kitchens. on the walk there, you ponder all the things you’d say once you returned to the library. would you even say anything at all? what could possibly be said to the scariest slytherin you’ve ever met?
the elves' eyes shoot to you as you waltz inside, greeting you with cheery hello’s. you decline their generous offers to make the tea for you and insist that you must do it yourself. you brew the tea, say your goodbyes and head back to the library.
when you return, sakusa has fully fallen asleep. his breathing (because you can hear it from your table) is slightly ragged and he sleeps as if he hasn’t slept properly in days. you tip-toe to his table and set down the tea cup in front of him as carefully as you can while watching closely to see if you’d disturbed him in the process. with a sigh of relief at success, you go back to your spot and continue to study.
he actually slept for a while after that and you’d gotten lost in your studies. stuck in your own world, you failed to see the signs of a sleepy sakusa start to stir and wake up. as he lifts his head up groggily, you try your hardest to ignore him so he doesn’t suspect you were responsible for it. when he notices the cup of tea in front of him, he looks around curiously before dipping the tip of his finger in the cup; you assume he does so to check the temperature. then, sakusa pulls out his wand, and effortlessly casts a simple spell. he pulls his mask down to his chin and out of the corner of your eyes, you sneak a glimpse at his face.
he is just as breathtaking as you imagined.
now, he can enjoy the tea made just for him by the generosity of a kind stranger, at just the right temperature to soothe his aching throat.
you smile to yourself when he hums in delight.
this continues on for a while. since the two of you had a routine, you made sure to get to the library early enough to leave a piping hot cup of tea – until you decided that he was well again.
he obviously wasn’t sick anymore, but you liked the glimpse of joy that flashed in his eyes upon seeing a cup of tea waiting for him.
today, you were running late. you slept in dangerously late, and only had twenty minutes to study before your exam today. when you walked into the library and headed towards your table, there was a cup of tea waiting for you. your heart almost fell to the floor at the sight of it because it was made just how you make it for sakusa.
when you turn to sakusa, ready to thank him, you discover that his nose is shoved into a book. you smile to yourself, knowing he isn’t watching your reaction.
as you sit down and daringly take a sip, you can’t help the hum of delight that follows. a sound that mirrored that of when sakusa first took a sip of the tea you made for him, weeks ago.
the two of you ignore each other like usual, both enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the library while doing your own work. as you take the last sip of your tea, you can’t help but glance over at sakusa. he’s packing up to leave and as he stands up, he hooks his finger around his mask to pull it down, baring his face to you. your cheeks flush. you’re touched by the gesture because you know how rarely sakusa is seen without his mask — you think he’d rather be caught dead than seen without it.
you realize you’re staring, unable to take your eyes off of the sight of his naked face. he’s usually used to the reaction, but to see it from you makes him feel uncharacteristically shy.
“don’t expect this to be a regular thing.” he deadpans.
you wave him off, shaking your head. “i don’t expect anything, but thank you. it was really kind of you.”
sakusa never does anything for anyone else. he doesn’t have the time or energy to do anything out of the kindness of his own heart. but to be called kind, especially by you, someone who he has never talked to, makes him feel unsure.
when he arrived at the library on that one day, feeling sick and more irritable than normal, seeing his favorite flavor of tea waiting for him at his spot warmed his cold heart. who knew sakusa kiyoomi had one?
he just had to return the favor. to know that he might owe someone a favor bothered him to no end. sakusa told himself that he was simply just returning the favor and not because he wanted an excuse to talk to you, because he doesn’t need friends. but when he saw the genuine look of happiness on your face, he realized that he might like doing things for other people – okay, maybe just you.
he reminds himself that he doesn’t have the time for anyone else (komori and atsumu demand enough of his attention) but he supposes if he can see that look on your face one more time, putting a little effort in might be worth it.
he hums in response, pulling his mask back up and he starts to head out.
“sakusa!” you call out, a little louder than what’s deemed acceptable in the library.
he casts a glance over his shoulder.
“thank you again.” you smile warmly at him and he thinks his heart might just explode. the tips of his ears flush red and in a panic, he nods in acknowledgement because he doesn’t trust his voice.
and it did become a regular thing.
#sakusa x y/n#slytherin sakusa#sakusa is so cute i love him#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#one shot#hq one shot#hq fluff#haikyuu x reader#hq!!#haikyuu!! x reader#haezen writes!#haezen requests
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TikTok
Atsumu blinks stumped, mouth open, eyebrows furrowed and nose wrinkled in an absurdly funny expression. On his cell phone, that tiktok that has appeared on his fyp with the stupid tune more passion, more passion, more energy is playing on loop and as much as Miya wants to slide and keep scrolling through his fyp he cannot.
He can't because it's Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa fucking Tooru, who appears in the tiktok, dancing to the rhythm of the sound, dressed in nike sport shorts and a black shirt that absolutely isn't his because of how it's baggy around his shoulders and because of the Japanese flag emblazoned on the chest.
And the worst thing isn't that.
What's worse is that he's using the fucking song in a non-ironic way and, in the white letters levitating above his body, can read pov: your boyfriend is (29) athletic trainer and you're trying to motivate yourself to endure a round when in foreplay you've already seen and touched the stars more than once ;)
And the worst of the worst is that it has 8 million -MILLION- of views and 3M likes. And also, in the comments, anchored at the beginning, with 789k likes, is the confirmed fucking account of Iwaizumi Hajime -his fucking trainer- commenting give me back my fucking shirt, shittykawa.
Oikawa Tooru has gone viral (again). And with his boyfriend (again).
Over my dead body, Tooru-chan. You wanna play? Let's play then.
Atsumu, with his competitive flame flaring as if gasoline had been poured on it, rises from the couch abruptly, takes a deep breath and then-
"OMI-OMI."
"No." Sakusa, appearing in the living room after thoroughly drying his hair, replies sternly as he circles the couch to head for the kitchen, not even giving his boyfriend a glance.
"I didn't say anything yet!" He squawks indignantly.
"You don't need to open your mouth to say some bullshit. It's written all over your face."
"BUT OMI-OMI, I JUST NEED YOUR SHIR-"
"Over my dead body, Tsumu." He warns, looming behind the kitchen door with an eggplant in his hand and a knife in the other, with the most intense and menacing (and hot) stare that makes Miya swallow saliva and feel his cheeks burn. "Now get your fucking pretty ass over here, wash your hands and help me with dinner."
#sakuatsu#iwaoi#sakusa kiyoomi#miya atsumu#oikawa tooru#hajime iwaizumi#oikawa x iwaizumi#haikyuu#tiktok#tiktok trend#more passion more energy#i still can't get over that freaking sound#pro volleyball oikawa#iwaizumi hajime (29) athletic trainer#haikyuu!!#one shot#oikawa makes a tiktok#bl boys
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Their Child Does And/Or Says Something Mean *Part 2*
Daichi Sawamura X Reader, Koshi Sugawara X Reader, Asahi Azumane X Reader, Kyoomi Sakusa X Reader
Requested: @mpregandmore
Summary: Your the step parent and the kids are being mean.
Warning: Ungrateful Kids, Injury (Sakusa & Daichi), Fight (Asahi)
Part 1 (Toru Oikawa, Issei Matsukawa, Hajime Iwaizumi, Takahiro Hanamaki, Kentaro Kyotani)
*Part 3* (Kotaro Bokuto X Reader, Keiji Akaashi X Reader, Atsumu Miya X Reader, Rintaro Suna X Reader, Osamu Miya X Reader)
*Part 4* (Tetsuro Kuroo X Reader, Kozume Kenma X Reader)
Daichi Sawamura
👮 Daichi wasn’t a reckless person but once he actually became a police officer, the hours just didn’t fit with his previous partner and they ended up parting ways, however she was pregnant at the time.
👮 Daichi loved his little boy, but that didn’t mean that he went easy on him, there were rules he needed to follow and he knew this.
👮 When you joined the family permanently, Daisuke showed that he loved you as much as he loved his parents and for the most part listened to what you asked of him.
👮 There were still times that he pushed his luck and most of the time that was when Daichi wasn't around.
You opened the door for Daisuke as he run into the living room kicking off his shoes on the way, you glanced at him and walked into the kitchen, taking the homework out of his bag and laying it on the table walking into the living room “Daisuke you know the rules, come and finish some of the homework while I cook dinner.” You ordered and he looked at you and fell forward on the sofa.
“But I’m tired.” Came his muffled reply.
“I know but it’s Friday so you don’t have to do all of it today, I just need you to do some of it okay?” You asked.
“Fine.” He agreed before getting up and walking into the kitchen, he sat down at the table and started working at you started cooking, you were about halfway through making the meal when Daisuke balancing on the back legs of the chair that he was sitting on, the kitchen was pretty small so if he fell he was going to hit his head pretty hard.
“Daisuke, please don’t do that.” You requested as you continued to cook,
“Nothing is going to happen.” He argued.
“You could really hurt yourself.” You warned him.
“I don’t have to listen to you, you're not my mum.” You turned away for a second and when you turned around you saw that he was doing it again, you were walking over to tell him to stop again when the chair tipped too far, you dove forward and caught the chair and Daisuke before he could hurt himself. “Are you okay?” You asked.
“Yeah.” He answered as he looked at you, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright just please don’t do that again.” You pleaded.
“I won’t.” He answered, nodding “Your hand is bleeding.” You looked at your hand and saw that you were bleeding.
“Oh don’t worry about that.” You smiled as you walked over to the sink and started washing your hands.
“I didn’t mean what I said.” You looked back at him as you waited for you to continue. “I think you and Daddy should get married and then you can be my mum too.”
“You think you can get me a plaster?” You asked and he nodded going into the bathroom to get you what you asked for, when he came back you put your hand out to him “you think you can put that on for me?” He nodded sticking the plaster over the small cut, you attempted to pull your hand away but he stopped you pressing a kiss to the plaster before nodding and going back to his homework.
After eating dinner you both watched a movie and ended up falling asleep on the sofa, Daichi came in at 11:00pm he smiled as he walked into the living room, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before lifting Daisuke off of you and carrying him into his room. “Dad?” He was woken up by Daichi putting him in bed.
“Hey.” Daichi greeted him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Where’s mum?” He mumbled and Daichi frowned.
“She’s not here.” He answered honestly.
“But we were just watching a movie.” He answered, Daichi’s eyes moved back in the direction of the stairs and living room.
“(Y/N)?” Daichi asked “she’s downstairs I’m going to go and get her in a minute, you both fell asleep.”
“Okay. Night Dad, I love you.”
“I love you too Bud.” He said softly walked towards the door turning on the nightlight and then turning off the lamp before closing the door. Daichi then headed downstairs and found that you were still asleep, he turned off the T.V before easily lifting you off the sofa.
“How was work?” You mumbled slightly woken up.
“Work was fine.” He answered as he walked into the bedroom and gently placed you on the bed leaving you to get comfortable while he got changed, he climbed into bed pulling you over to lay with him, the plaster on your hand catching his eye. “What happened to your hand?”
“We had a little incident today but it’s all cleared up now.” You explained.
“Whatever you did worked because he called you mum tonight.” He answered and you smiled.
“He did?” You asked.
“Mmhm.” He hummed “get some sleep, I’ve got tomorrow off so we can talk then.”
“Night Daichi, love you.” You mumbled falling asleep again.
“Night sweetheart, I love you too.” Daichi said before settling himself.
Koshi Sugawara
🙌 Suga was very much a paternal figure from a very young age. It started with his volleyball team and continued into his professional life so it did not surprise you when he said that he had a daughter.
🙌 You were surprised that he was a single father, Suga was a catch you couldn’t understand why anyone would have let him go, later on in the relationship you found out that his previous partner just didn’t know how to keep her hands to herself.
🙌 Kimiko bumped into you at the supermarket when she lost her Dad, you helped her find him and were surprised to find a hot single father frantically asking if anyone had seen his little girl.
🙌 Suga stayed in contact after that, insisting that he thank you for your help and then asking you on a date afterwards. Kimiko had always liked you but puberty brought it’s own problems.
Kimiko had come home from school, you knew because the door slammed behind her “Kimiko I told you about slamming the door!” You called from the kitchen as you dried your hands.
“I don’t have to listen to you, this isn’t even your house.” You heard her say as you met her in the hallway.
“Excuse me?” You asked.
“You heard what I said.” She said flinging her shoes across the hallway in the direction of the shoe rack.
“Can you put those away properly please?” You asked, she just looked at you before shoving past you to get to the stairs, you fell against the wall, ankle twisting as you tripped over the shoes you had asked her to put away. You struggled to the freezer grabbing something to put on your ankle before struggling to sit down.
Suga came through the door 15 minutes later, you heard him shuffling around in the hall and then he walked into the living room “what happened!?” He asked.
“Nothing just hurt my foot, it’s nothing I was going to cook dinner in a minute though.” You waved him off but he walked over and crouched where your foot was raised on the table and moved the ice to see the large bruise forming over your ankle.
“You won’t be doing anything.” He frowned as he lifted your leg and felt you flinch.
“Sorry love, we need to wrap this okay, I think it’s just a sprain but we’ll see what it looks like in the morning.” He said softly “Kimiko!”
“Yeah!?” She called back.
“Can you bring down the first aid kit please!?” He asked, voice raised as he tried to keep your foot steady. “Are you going to tell me what happened or not?”
“I just tripped over her shoes again, it’s nothing.” You waved him off and he looked at you and while you were sure that he wasn’t convinced he didn’t say anything.
“What happened?” You heard Kimiko before you saw her but the moment that she saw your ankle her breath hitched.
“That’s my fault.” She said as tears gathered in her eyes.
“No, I mean you left your shoes out but it was an accident.” Suga tried consoling her as he reached out for the first aid kit, you hissed as your ankle rolled “sorry Love.”
“Yes it is, this happened earlier, don’t lie to me, I did this didn’t I?” She looked at you and you sighed tears coming to your eyes.
“You didn’t mean to hurt me.” You said softly.
“What happened?” Suga asked, gently wrapping your foot.
“Earlier-”
“No, Kimiko, tell me what happened.” Suga stopped you from talking as he looked at his daughter waiting for the story, Kimiko explained what happened before looking at you.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know you didn’t.” You said opening your arms for her, she walked over carefully climbing onto the sofa next to you and accepting the hug.
“You know how you can make it up to us?” Suga asked as he walked over to sit on your other side.
“Hmm?” She hummed.
“You can make dinner.” He said as you looked at him and rolled your eyes.
“I can still-”
“Do nothing.” They both said at the same time.
“I’ll cook but you have to make sure that she doesn’t do anything.” Kimiko ordered as she rushed off into the kitchen.
“Please don’t be mad at her, she made a mistake and she apologized.” You leaned your head against his shoulder.
“I’m not mad at her but she’s still grounded for pushing you.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Now you rest until dinner is done, I’ll wake you up when it is.”
Asahi Azumane
🪡 Asahi was a bit scatterbrained in life so being a single parent was a challenge for him but he tried his best however when he met you he could not have been happier.
🪡 Akito was young when you and Asahi started dating and so to him it was normal for you to be there and he even thought that you were his Mum.
🪡 When he started in High School people started asking questions about his family and that was when he realized that you weren’t entirely the same as everyone else.
🪡 You guys never meant to keep it a secret but you never got to explain that before he assumed that you had been lying all his life.
You heard the door open and close “When were you going to tell me?” Akito asked as he walked into the kitchen, throwing his bag on the floor.
“Tell you what?” You asked.
“That you’re not even my real Mum!” He answered and you looked at him in time to catch his glare.
“Where did you hear that?” You asked.
“You think that I’d never find out!? What happened? Did you just take her place? What happened to her?” He asked as he stepped closer, his hands flinging out and knocking the glass containers on the floor.
“You’ll have to ask your Dad what happened.” You answered because the truth of the matter is that you never cared enough to ask, he said that it didn’t end well and you never pushed for an explanation.
“No, you tell me!” He ordered as he knocked more glass to the floor, you pulled yourself up onto the counter top to protect your feet as you pulled your knees up to your chest.
“I can’t tell you, I don’t know what happened between your mother and your father.” You answered honestly, you could see that he didn’t believe you but before you could say anything else Asahi appeared in the doorway behind him.
“What the hell is going on!?” He asked as he looked between the two of you.
“When were you going to tell me that she’s not even my real mum? Was she just some woman that you wanted more?” He asked.
“Careful what you say.” Asahi warned him as he looked over at you.
“You have to tell him, whatever happened he needs to know.” You said. “I can go stay somewhere else for a couple of days or something but you guys need to talk.”
“You aren’t going anywhere.” Asahi pointed at you before turning to his son. “You have no right to talk to or about (Y/N) she has raised you since you were younger and she’s never treated you anymore less then her own son, your mother was not a bad person but she didn’t know how to make the right choice and one day she almost got you killed and I had to leave, she’s never tried to find us since.”
“She hurt me?” Akito asked.
“You remember you always used to ask me about the scar on your shoulder?” Asahi asked and he nodded. “She did that.”
“I didn't… I’m sorry… I just didn’t understand why you never told me.” Akito stuttered out as he looked over at you.
“It’s okay, are you hurt?” You asked.
“No.” He answered “I’m fine.”
“Good, go into the living room, be careful as you do, when you get to the door take off your shoes so you don’t walk the glass into the living room carpet.” You ordered.
“Can I go to my room?” He asked.
“Of course, we’ll call you when we decide what we are going to do for dinner.” You smiled as he walked towards the living room door, he turned one last time.
“I’m really sorry.” He said before you heard him going upstairs.
“Alright Babe I’m going to come over and grab you okay?” Asahi asked.
“Okay.” You answered softly as he walked over. Once he was close enough he guided your legs around his waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck, once he had lifted you off the counter and was holding you tight to his body he could feel you shaking.
“It’s alright love, I’ve got you now.” He promised as he walked out the kitchen and kicked off his own shoes before walking into the living room. Asahi walked over to the sofa sitting down with you straddling his waist. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” You answered while pressing your face into his neck.
“I never meant for this to happen, this is all my fault.” Asahi held you tighter “you could have gotten really badly hurt.”
“This was no one's fault, you're both just really emotional people, you were both hurt and you dealt with it differently, we’re all okay and that’s all that matters.” You said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Where are you going?” He asked as you attempted to get up.
“I have to clean the kitchen.” You answered.
“No he’ll clean up the kitchen, we’ll order something and we can eat in here.” He answered. “We’ll order it in a minute but first just sit with me for a little while yeah?”
A couple of minutes later Akito came back down the stairs and you glanced at him and smiled by now, Asahi had changed position so that he was laying against your chest between you legs, you had taken his hair out of it usual bun and started massaging his scalp which seemed to have sent him to sleep. “He’s asleep?” Akito asked.
“Yeah.” You answered. “Are you hungry? Here, pick something.” You handed him your phone, he took it and started to scroll through the app looking at restaurants.
“You know you're the best mum I could have asked for.” He suddenly said and you looked at him “anyone else would have hated me after everything that I did today.”
“The right people understand why you did what you did today.” You answered “the truth is it was never the right way to go about it. We both know that so how about we leave it where it is and we move on with the promise that we never confront a problem like that ever again.”
“Okay.” He nodded.
“Promise?” You asked putting out your pinky.
“Promise.” He answered with a roll of his eyes.
Kyoomi Sakusa
😷 You honestly have no idea how Kyoomi managed to become a single father and he never spoke about it, you never really asked, there were parts of his life that he was still private about.
😷 Omi was struggling with being a single parent so when he met you and Kyou actually liked you he felt like his life was finally figuring itself out, he honestly couldn’t be happier.
😷 Due to his work Omi was away a lot and that meant that you were left with his daughter and as much her father was a careful and clean person you had learned that she was nowhere near the same.
😷 Now just because Kyou liked you didn’t mean that she didn’t still push the boundaries to see what she could get and most of the time that resulted in you having to put her in her place but there was the small percentage that resulted in someone getting hurt too.
It was a nice day out so you decided to let Kyou play in the garden while you got her dinner ready, you were keeping an eye on her while washing up everything that you used, there was a small part of the garden that you and Kyoomi had been trying to get treated because of the stinging nettles that kept growing there, you asked Kyou not to play near there because of the weeds but today it seemed that was the instruction that she was going to ignore, you noticed her straying towards them and called out to her “Kyou please come away from there.” When she continued to ignore you, you dried your hands and walked over to where she was playing “Kyou, what have we told you about playing over here?”
“Not to.” She mumbled.
“Come on then back to the other side of the garden.” You ordered but when she refused to move you gently took her hand which she then snatched away from you, you then placed both hands on her waist and lifted her, this was when she started to throw a tantrum, this threw you of balance so you turned yourself so that you fell into the nettles holding her up and away from the plants, you moved as best you could while keeping her away from the plants “alright time to go inside.” Once you were inside, you locked the door and put her at the table “can you eat your dinner while I go clean up?”
“Okay.” She answered with a nod as you walked up the stairs into the bedroom.
Kyoomi was just finishing practice when his phone rang “(Y/N)’s calling ya.” Atsumu said after peeking over at the phone laying on the bench.
“Hello?” Kyoomi asked, narrowing his eyes at ‘Sumu as he did.
“Dad, I think mummy is hurt.” Kyou’s little voice sounded through the speaker.
“What happened baby?” He asked as he started grabbing things and dragging Atsumu out of the changing room with him.
“I wasn’t being very good, mummy fell in the stingy bush, she said that she was going to clean up but she hasn’t come back yet.” Kyou explained.
“Alright baby, I’ll be home soon okay, you wait for me okay?” He asked.
“What’s up man, why ya draggin’ me everywhere?” Atsumu asked.
“Kyou said that (Y/N)’s hurt.” Kyoomi answered as he unlocked the car.
“What happened?” He asked as they climbed into the car.
“We have some nettles in the garden, Kyou must have been near them and (Y/N) tried to move her away from them but she fell in, Kyou’s worried because she hasn’t come out of the bathroom yet.” Kyoomi explained.
“Well what do you want me to do, you want me to take Kyou somewhere?” He asked.
“You guys have to go get cream and antihistamines.” Kyoomi answered.
“Don’t you already have those?” Atsumu asked.
“Yes.” Kyoomi rolled his eyes “but I need to get Kyou out of the house but she won’t leave unless she thinks she’s helping.”
“Right got it!” Atsumu nodded.
“Do you?” Kyoomi asked.
“Yes I do actually!” He answered.
There was a knock at the door “I’ll be down in a minute Kyou!” You called through the door as you leaned against the sink, trying to calm the nauseous feeling in your stomach. You heard the door open but when you looked up you were greeted with the face of your boyfriend. “Hey Omi.”
“Hi Sweetheart, how are you feeling?” He asked, eyes moving over the red and raised skin at the top of your back, shoulders and arms.
“It would be fine if the stinging wasn’t making me feel sick.” You answered resting your head against the sink. Kyoomi hummed as he walked over to the shower turning on the water he made it lukewarm before turning back to you, he helped you out of the clothes you were in before ushering you into the shower.
“I’m going to get you a towel and some clothes, I’ll be back in a minute.” He promised before walking away.
“Where’s Kyou?” You asked when you heard him come back in.
“Atsumu has taken her to go and get some things that we need.” He answered as he gently helped you out of the showers drying you off and helping you get changed, he walked you into the bedroom where you were sitting when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” You called.
“Here mummy, I bought the things you needed.” Kyou held up the tube of cream and the tablets while Atsumu carried in the glass of water putting it on the bedside table.
“So you thought about my offer, little nurse?” Atsumu asked as Kyoomi passed you one of the tablets and the water.
“Are you feeling better mummy?” She asked.
“Yeah much better, Daddy helped me clean up and you brought my medicine, I should be better in no time.” You smiled.
“So you are going to be okay if I go with Uncle ‘Sumu?” She asked.
“Of course Baby.” You smiled “you go have the best sleepover ever, remember Uncle Sho said you could do his hair this time.”
“Yeah!” She cheered before running off, Atsumu followed after her.
“You should make sure that she gets packed up properly.” You said once Omi finished rubbing the cream into the affected skin.
“You’ll be okay?” He asked.
“I’ll be okay.” You nodded before he disappeared out of the room, there was a little commotion in her room before she run back in leaning up to press a kiss to your lips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow mummy, make sure you rest.” She ordered and you nodded waving as she ran out, a couple of minutes after Omi came back into the room shuffling onto the bed.
“You came home earlier than usual, you can go shower and stuff if you wanted.” You mumbled softly the antihistamines were making you drowsy now and he looked at you. “Don’t worry I’ll be here when you get back.”
“I won’t be long.” He promised, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead.
“Take your time.” You smiled as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
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#daichi sawamura#daichi sawamura imagine#daichi sawamura oneshot#koshi sugawara#koshi sugawara imagine#koshi sugawara oneshot#asahi azumane#asahi azumane imagine#asahi azumane oneshot#kyoomi sakusa#kyoomi sakusa imagine#kyoomi sakusa oneshot#imagine#oneshot#one shot#reader insert#x reader#female reader
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to mend broken glass | Part 1
It’s said no one gets their soul mark until they’ve been in the same vicinity as their soulmate.
Kiyoomi begs to differ.
Here he stands in the locker room showers watching ink bloom on his body. An amalgamation of sunflowers and long stalks of rice flowers threading across his upper thigh to crawl up his hip like it’s trying to invade him.
The vibrant yellow is stark again his pale skin, dotted by faint moles, and comes to a stop just below his belly button.
Kiyoomi stares at it.
Slowly, suspended in sense of disbelief, Kiyoomi shuts the tab and grabs his towel.
The locker room is empty.
Or so he’d thought.
One of the shower curtains is slightly askew, just enough for Kiyoomi to glimpse the two boys inside. Miya Atsumu, still clad in his uniform shorts, has his mouth attached to another boy’s neck.
On his left shoulder, right before Kiyoomi’s eyes, sunflowers and rice flowers bloom to life, twining around his deltoid to invade his trapezius.
The yellow compliments his sun-kissed complexion better, Kiyoomi thinks numbly, as he takes a step back, and another, and another.
There must be a mistake, he shakes his head in denial, clinging to his towel where it sits high enough to hide the ink that mockingly states he belongs to someone.
To Miya Atsumu.
He’s foolishly thought it would be someone who understands him. But there Miya is with his hands carelessly holding onto someone else, kissing someone else. Tainting the hands meant to love Kiyoomi.
Kiyoomi makes it to the hallway in a blind daze still clad in his towel, wet slippers slapping loudly against linoleum floors. The need to escape is visceral and inexplicable, as though distance might lessen the blow.
Kiyoomi feels winded with how badly his heart is racing, chest squeezed unforgivingly around it.
He somehow makes it to his room unseen, everyone none the wiser to the grief blooming behind his ribs, and by then his hands are close to shaking.
He’s thankful Motoya is not there to witness him cuss out inanimate objects as he struggles to put on his clothes while still dripping wet.
He stands in the middle of the room still under the threat of trembling, looking around aimlessly. It might be the wetness of his hair or the full blast of the AC (most likely, it’s the image now burned in his head of watching his soul mark on the body of someone who doesn’t care) but Kiyoomi suddenly feels so cold.
Like any other teenage boy, he’s naïvely fantasised about the day he’ll meet his soulmate. Many had grand visions ranging from bold gestures to sharing intimate moments.
Kiyoomi, forever caught at the edge of isolation, one step away from being completely misunderstood by the world, has only ever wanted to see if he’ll finally find a sense of belonging. His grand vision was about mutual understanding and acceptance.
A reassurance that he is worth loving.
It’s so laughably the bare minimum, even Kiyoomi hadn’t expected for it to be a bar too high to reach.
It takes him a while to understand why he’s grappling so hard with this, his chest so tight it’s hard to breathe.
Kiyoomi is experiencing his first heartbreak.
He doesn’t bring it up to anyone.
He doesn’t talk about or acknowledge having a soul mark, choosing to hide it behind layers of clothes and noncommittal shrugs.
Kiyoomi turns his focus solely to volleyball, his true soulmate, and plays his best. He pushes himself to his breaking point, makes volleyball his own, until his name is associated with winning and he’s one of the top high school aces in the country.
He doesn’t care much for Miya Atsumu anyway. It’s not like they even know each other, and it’s not like he owes Miya anything. For all he knows, Miya might be out there hopelessly searching for him, having missed his chance.
Miya absolutely only has himself to blame.
Kiyoomi knows he’s taking it too personally, after all a lot of people go out on dates or make out in showers—Kiyoomi grits his teeth at the memory—before they’re ever assigned a soulmate. It’s apparently part of the teenage experience.
Kiyoomi just can’t forget the betrayal and dread he felt standing there to witness it in what was supposed to be one of the best moments in his life.
So Kiyoomi forgets, he tries his best to.
Life goes on.
He graduates high school, he goes to college. He even kisses a few boys to see what the fuss is about and decides it’s overhyped and a little too messy for his taste.
The anger wanes and so does the hurt, until eventually, Kiyoomi feels close to normal about it.
That, and he won’t allow Miya Atsumu to decide his future.
The Jackals are a great team, one of the best in the league, right on bar with the Adlers. He needs to make a mature, educated decision unguided by prejudices or personal feelings.
… Kiyoomi sighs, and flips a coin.
Heads, the Adlers; Tails, the Jackals.
The coin flips three times and lands in under two seconds. The whole ordeal is a little anticlimactic.
He crouches to peer at it cautiously—and sucks in a sharp breath.
Tails.
Tails.
The universe points towards Miya Atsumu again.
Well, goddamn it. Kiyoomi is nothing if not stubborn.
He signs the contract with the Jackals the next day.
His new teammates are a rowdy bunch. Bokuto might as well be a five-year-old stuck in an adult’s body. Hinata is impossible to dislike or deny, radiant like a happy sunflower and in love with everyone on his team including Kiyoomi.
His captain is both mature and composed, with a wild streak off the court. Adriah and Oliver, despite giving him his space, are quick to roast their teammates in good fun.
Inunaki is a bit of a wildcard, but he seems to keep his more mischievous nature in check around Kiyoomi.
Then there’s Miya.
Kiyoomi isn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. The Miya he remembers from the All Japan youth camp was loud and exuberant, ruffling feathers left and right.
He called Kageyama Tobio a goody two shoes to his face.
This Miya looks more mature in a rugged way. He’s more withdrawn, but warm to his teammates when they address him. He joins the occasional night out, but is always the first to leave.
Kiyoomi, maybe not so unexpectedly, doesn’t mind his presence.
Miya is even more polite to him than he is to everyone else. When they’re paired to stretch together, he always offers Kiyoomi a small smile and a “let me know if ya need help, Omi-kun.”
The nickname had been a little unexpected, but he’s since learned that everyone on the team has one, like a right of passage.
Bokuto is Bo-kun and Hinata is Sho-kun, and even Meian is affectionately addressed as ‘cap’ or cheekily as ‘oh captain, my captain!’
No, what’s most unexpected is that Kiyoomi doesn’t hate him at all. He searches for that elusive anger and comes up short. Instead he finds the stirrings of regrets, deeply rooted but ever-present.
It’s hard to hate someone whose eyes can look so sad when no one is looking. It’s even harder to hate someone who still finds the capacity to smile even from the depths of their own wretched misery and Kiyoomi… well. He has complicated feelings about it.
It takes him three months with the Jackals to decide it’s a little unbearable.
Miya’s sadness makes itself known in strange ways; in his occasionally self-depreciating words, in the way he gets lost staring into space and in the way he speaks so softly about his daily phone calls with his brother.
Despite everything, despite having caused the secret, one-sided rift between them, Kiyoomi’s eyes follow him curiously. As far as he’s concerned it’s because Miya is an unsolved puzzle.
If he occasionally feels the pull to do something about it… well. It’s not like Kiyoomi is heartless.
He might have been angry once upon a time that Miya turned out to be his soulmate, but they’re teammates now.
“Hey, let me drive you home,” he offers on a whim one day because Atsumu’s sullen, unfocused expression is nothing short of worrying. “You’re on my way.”
“Oh.” Atsumu says. “Are ya sure, Omi-kun? I don’t want to impose.”
Kiyoomi almost laughs because who the hell is this man and what happened to the Miya Atsumu who never apologised for anything?
He wants so viciously to know what happened, he feels ready to dissect Atsumu to his core, to peel away his layers like an onion through determined, stinging eyes.
Atsumu is silent in the car, offering soft non-verbal noises to all of Kiyoomi’s prodding questions.
And once he’s home, he has the gall to give Kiyoomi a warm smile. “Thanks, Omi-kun. Yer a good friend. I’m glad ya joined MSBY.”
No, Kiyoomi thinks, anguished.
This isn’t right.
Why does it hurt?
He doesn’t care about Miya Atsumu. He swears he doesn’t, not in the way he’s meant to, anyway.
Kiyoomi tries to keep his distance a little more afterwards, afraid of the way his heart warbles guiltily at the sight of Miya.
He sticks with his decision for a week.
Then his resolve comes crashing down irreparably.
It happens in the locker room (and hasn’t this become a horrible trend?).
Miya is usually the last one to take his shower for unknown reasons, waiting even for Kiyoomi to be done and gone.
But today Kiyoomi is running late after having had the physician insepect where a dull ache persisted in his knee.
Kiyoomi enters the showers limping just as Miya exits his, and that’s when he sees it.
That’s when the world nearly screeches to a deafening halt.
The soul mark on Atsumu’s shoulder is no longer yellow and white; it’s now a dull, un-lively grey.
Shocked, and caught off guard, Kiyoomi freezes and stares.
Miya says nothing and beyond the stiffening in his shoulders, he gives no indication that anything is amiss, shrugging on his shirt and leaving Kiyoomi with a silent nod.
Kiyoomi nearly rips his own clothes off in his haste to make sure his soul mark doesn’t mirror Miya’s flat grey. But he finds it the same lively and vibrant yellow it’s always been.
He doesn’t dare ask Miya what it means.
So he does the next best thing, curiosity driving him to corner Hinata the next day.
He’s running on barely any sleep and an inordinate amount of coffee, so he’s not exactly tactful about it.
“Hey,” he says anxiously, ignoring the caffeine-induced jitters in his fingers.
“Omi-kun! What’s up?” Hinata bounces in his spot, smiling sweetly up at Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi often feels like he doesn’t deserve his constant, unfailing kindness.
He decides to bite. “Uh. I was wondering and… Miya’s soul mark…”
Hinata’s face goes impressively blank.
Kiyoomi holds his breath.
After a moment of deliberation, and a slow look around the empty locker room, Hinata sighs and looks at Kiyoomi with pity. “You saw it?”
Kiyoomi nods, his heart now racing. “It was… grey?”
“Yeah,” Hinata nods.
“What does it mean?” Kiyoomi whispers, matching his somber tone.
“It means Atsumu-san’s soulmate didn’t want him,” Hinata divulges sadly and looks down at his feet like it personally pains him.
Kiyoomi is glad Hinata’s attention shifts away from him because he’s not sure what his expression betrays right then. His lips struggle to form words, and his heart ricochets against his ribcage. “W-what?”
“Yeah, I read about it,” Hinata goes on, blind to Kiyoomi’s unrest. “If you hurt your soulmate in a way that your soulmate considers unforgivable, your soul mark goes grey. For some people it stays that way forever. For others, if they can be forgiven by their soulmate, they get their colours back.”
“Oh,” Kiyoomi says faintly.
“It’s really sad,” Hinata carries on. “Because Atsumu-san thinks the unforgivable thing he’s done to his soulmate is just being himself. He said his soulmate probably already knows him—that they took one look at him and couldn’t accept ending up together. Since then Atsumu-san has done everything he could to change the way he is.”
No.
This isn’t right.
Kiyoomi feels it like a blow to the face, feels it like a kick to the gut. He hadn’t even considered that being a possibility…
When he sees Atsumu again that day, he can hardly look at him when the knowledge he gleaned is buzzing in his head like a tornado intent on destroying everything.
Can he even fix this?
Where does Kiyoomi begin, when he isn’t certain what exactly he did in the first place to steal the colours from Miya’s soul.
He might’ve been bitter and hurt, but it’s been 6 years and at no point had he wanted to hurt Miya back.
He thinks: I forgive you. He thinks it really hard, unsure if this is the way it works.
His eyes follow Miya’s shadow around the court and he allows himself to think: I was too harsh, I’m sorry.
He lets his eyes linger on the contours of Miya’s face, studying his withdrawn expression in the dying evening sun and thinks: You deserved a chance and I didn’t give you one, it’s my fault, I’m sorry.
He can see now, with months of quasi-friendship under his belt, that Miya didn’t deserve Kiyoomi’s reaction, not the way he’d justified it. Miya had been sixteen, hadn’t had a soul mark yet. After all, Kiyoomi had been there to witness Miya get it with his own eyes.
Miya couldn’t have known.
Battling with guilt, Kiyoomi gives up distance again.
“Why’re ya being so nice to me, Omi?” Miya asks him when for the third day in a row, Kiyoomi brings him coffee.
“It’s just coffee,” Kiyoomi mutters in embarrassment. It’s such a tragically trivial gesture in the face of the damage he unwittingly caused.
He never noticed it before but Atsumu has the warmest pair of honey eyes he’s ever seen. It aches in an obscure place in his chest thinking no one’s ever told him so before.
“I like your eyes,” he blurts, watching Miya try to take a sip of his coffee and then nearly choke.
Miya flushes, covering his mouth as he coughs. “What?”
Flustered at his own honesty, Kiyoomi looks away. “Um. I just think you have pretty eyes.”
“Oh,” Miya says, stunned. “T-thanks, Omi-kun. Don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”
It’s not Kiyoomi’s place to feel sad about it. Not when he caused this. Not when the universe gave him the task of appreciating and loving this man and he squandered it.
It should have been him telling Miya these things all along.
Instead he cast him aside.
His stomach churns, and his mouth opens again of its own volition. “You’re really pretty,” he says weakly, watching Miya’s—no, Atsumu’s—cheeks colour. “I like your hair, too.”
“Omi-omi, what are ya doing?” Atsumu says quietly, finally meeting his eyes. He looks reserved as always, cautious even. “Don’t ya um. Don’t ya have a soulmate?”
At Kiyoomi’s silence, Atsumu presses. “Ya shouldn’t, Omi. It’ll hurt them if ya give yer attention to someone else. Y’know… sometimes I think that’s how I lost mine.”
The air punches from his lungs. His eyes widen.
Atsumu nods. “Yeah. I think they found out I was messing around and they didn’t like it. And I can’t even tell ‘em how sorry I am because I never had the chance ta find out who they are.”
No, Kiyoomi thinks again, chest in pieces. This is wrong. “I’m so sorry.”
“I am too,” Atsumu agrees, smiling faintly, all sadness and no humour. “That’s why ya gotta be patient, Omi! Y’know… I think yer really beautiful. A lot nicer than ya let on. They’ll be so lucky to have ya.”
“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi interrupts because this is unbearable and Kiyoomi can’t keep this to himself anymore. “I fucked up.”
Atsumu blinks, surprised. “Huh? What d’ya mean? Did ya… did yer soulmate also…?”
Kiyoomi sucks in a shaky breath that feels like fire. “No I… I fucked up. I passed judgement too soon. I thought… well, actually, I felt betrayed when I had no right to. And my soulmate doesn’t know, and I didn’t mean to but it snowballed and years passed and—and—hey Atsumu, would you hate me?”
Confusion wrinkles Atsumu’s brows, but his expression morphs into gentle sympathy. “What? If I were yer soulmate, ya mean? I think so, Omi-kun. I think I’d just be glad to have ya, at the end of the day.”
Oh, you poor bastard Kiyoomi thinks. He aches as he takes a step closer, grabs Atsumu’s face, and kisses him.
“Mmph—!” Atsumu emits a shocked noise and Kiyoomi releases him to study his bewildered expression. “O-omi? What are ya—?”
“I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi says again sincerely. “I want you back, please. I want to give us a proper try. I want to get to know you, the real you. I want so many things I thought I was okay with not having.”
Atsumu’s eyes are too wide, his lips wobbling. “What are ya—what…”
“I don’t know how else to fix this,” Kiyoomi says, close to tears. “But I have to tell you.”
So Kiyoomi tells him everything from the start. All about what Kiyoomi witnessed and his misplaced anger, and everything he now knows he regrets.
Meanwhile Atsumu’s face grows paler and paler; shifts from shocked, to horrified, to anguished and finally, to tearful.
“Oh,” he croaks, touching his own shoulder where his mark is. “Ya mean…”
Kiyoomi nods, tearing up too, now. “You’re supposed to be mine.”
Atsumu fists his hand in his shirt. “How could…” he stops, breaths shaking. “I was so sad, and so scared and so…”
“I’m so sorry,” Kiyoomi says again, cradling Atsumu’s blanched fist between his hands as tears dripped down his cheeks. “I didn’t know. Let me make it up to you.”
“Omi—what? No. I’m not—this isn’t your fault,” Atsumu sniffs. “I fucked up first. How can ya still want me?”
“No, no, no,” Kiyoomi denies vehemently. “You didn’t know. I let my emotions control me.”
He pulls Atsumu closer, and places his hand on Kiyoomi’s hip where his soul mark is. Where it always has been; constant and vibrant. “You were hurting so much and you still wanted me,” he whispers shakily. “It never went grey.”
“’Course I did, Omi,” Atsumu’s feeble whisper, paired with his tearful eyes, is the most beautifully haunting sight Kiyoomi has ever seen.
He kisses him again. “I’m sorry.”
“No. No, I’m sorry,” Atsumu says back, shaking his head rapidly.
Later, when they head for the showers, when Atsumu chucks off his shirt, his soul mark has regained its colours, and Kiyoomi gets to watch him sit down on a bench and bawl so hard his entire body shakes with it.
Kiyoomi can only take him in his arms and hold him as tightly as he can as he wills away all the hurt he unknowingly caused.
“I’ll fix it,” Kiyoomi promises again and again. “I swear I will, I’ll love you twice as hard.”
Which makes Atsumu cry more, but also cling onto him harder.
Kiyoomi knows it won’t be easy to undo the years of pain Atsumu lived through, but he’s determined to try. The universe handed him this human, flawed yes, but also so beautiful, and so deserving of love, and Kiyoomi is going to start doing right by him even if it’s the last thing he does.
[Part 2] [Part 3]
[Buy me a coffee]
#sakuatsu#rating: T#LindtLuirae writes#soulmates AU#sakusa kiyoomi#miya atsumu#one-shot#haikyuu#angst with a happy ending#hurt/comfort
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AtuOi beef @ the all-star game and Atsumu trying to turn everyone against Oikawa immediately has so much comedic potential.
He tries to get Hinata to break his friendship with Oikawa. It's just like:
Atsumu: It is shameful you are friends with someone who hurt your boyfriend/best friend so much in middle school
Hinata: Tobio is okay with it–
Atsumu: SHAMEFUL I SAY!
He tells Iwaizumi he can do better than Oikawa (and nearly gets punched in the face).
He organises bitching sessions with Kageyama (it's very one-sided. Kageyama is texting Hinata or watching volleyball videos the whole time. Atsumu is FURIOUS they aren't bonding over their shared hatred of Oikawa.)
Atsumu: And the way he thinks he is so much better than everyone else? Imagine being so obnoxious, I could never –
Kageyama: *doesn't hear a word* *is literally making bets with Hinata on FaceTime*
Atsumu: You are dead to me.
So he tries his luck with Ushijima instead but that turns out even worse.
Ushijima: Oh, Oikawa? He is an excellent setter, he brings out the best in every team. If he'd gone to my school–
Atsumu: OH MY GOD!!!
Sakusa has locked him out of the room after the first night and refuses to entertain him.
Atsumu: Don't you just hate it when he calls you Kiyo-chan? Omi-Omi is so much cuter. He will never understand you like I do.
Sakusa: It's 3:16 in the morning
Atsumu: ily
Sakusa: die
Osamu blocked his number. Suna simply starts recording his anti-Oikawa rants and Atsumu is 77% sure at least one of them is up on the internet. Bokuto is a lost cause because he met Oikawa once and is already a fan. Hoshiumi would be a perfect candidate but he has his own Jackals/Adlers beef with Atsumu to fulfill and just starts growling whenever they cross paths.
Aran hears him out once and wants to fake his death within 15 minutes.
Yaku hates Oikawa but he hates Atsumu too. Inunaki is a sadist and enjoys Atsumu's suffering.
Atsumu is miserable. Oikawa is winning for now.
(Feel free to add more.)
#atsumu is such a funny character when he's losing at something#i have so many thoughts about this new one shot and all the character dynamic#this is even better than the chaos of jnt#miya atsumu#oikawa tooru#hinata shouyou#kageyama tobio#iwaizumi hajime#ushijima wakatoshi#sakusa kiyoomi#miya osamu#suna rintarou#bokuto koutarou#hoshiumi kourai#ojiro aran#yaku morisuke#inunaki shion#atsuoi#kagehina#iwaoi#sakuatsu#haikyuu!!#hq#sim talks hq
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Can you do a Yandere Sakusa one-shot?
Absolutely! I feel like I barely saw any of Sakusa in Haikyuu- so many people love him but I totally struggle with getting a feel for his personality. And thank you so much!
Also, it’s been a little while since I wrote about murder. Let’s change that! ^-^
Title: Competitive
Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, descriptions of murder, I know nothing about Japanese volleyball rules for girls on guy teams so just pretend I’m right
Summary: Sakusa’s never felt this competitive before. Maybe it has something to do with his newest opponent.
competitive
/adjective/
having or displaying a strong desire to be more successful than others:
Sakusa had never felt this alive.
He was used to staying in the background with a bored, disdainful expression. Judging people from a distance while staying in his own little germ-free corner. He rarely found interest in anything but volleyball.
Sure, he got competitive during volleyball, much more than in any other aspect of his life. He didn’t like leaving things unfinished and losing felt unfinished. He had a tendency to label rivals as a threat and overfocus on them throughout every match.
But never had he been more competitive than against this team.
He couldn’t understand why he viewed most of this team as such a threat or why he wanted to crush them harder than any team in the past.
Sakusa prided himself on his honesty, even if it went into the territory of being way too blunt. But this wasn’t so much lying to himself as it was being unable to figure out why?
He barely heard the whistle sound as he blankly turned to look at the scoreboard. Oh. They’d won. And by nearly 15 points. He’d been much too focused on the game to pay attention to the score. It felt like a blur.
The team he was playing at lined up and began to do their punishment exercises- running up and down the hill outside. Honestly, the training camp was going easy on everyone. If you lost in a competition, you were out.
Sakusa’s eyes trailed after one particular player as the number 13 jersey jogged through the morning dew-laden grass. You.
He’d been surprised that a team had let a girl play, but he had originally supposed you were just a bench warmer, let on to keep the parents’ mouths shut about equality. He had been outright shocked (though he’d never show it) when you lined up to play off against the other teams as not even the libero, but the setter.
You weren’t filling in for anyone, either, that much was for sure. Sakusa had watched your team beat another before playing against his and you were good. Your movements were fluid, your form was perfect, and you were a quick-thinker. Not a genius like Kageyama and not as talented as Oikawa, but you were a worthy opponent by far.
When he went up against your team, one of the wing-spikers (the one right across from him) said something snarky, something he couldn’t even remember anymore, and put his arm around you for just a moment while laughing.
And then, he’d been consumed by a need to win he couldn’t hope to control.
When your team turned around to run down the hill, he could see the disappointment on your face. You felt bad about losing, most likely, even though you’d probably done your very best. Sakusa didn’t know, he hadn’t been paying attention to you during the match.
Although, now it was over, he felt like he should have been.
You looked like an angel, with the sun’s rays lighting you up at that angle- he almost expected a halo to appear above your head. Your beautiful skin shone with sweat but it just enhanced your looks by making you glow.
He wasn’t the type to get this distracted by a girl, but he couldn’t help it.
“Why are you in a corner by yourself?”
To anyone else, Sakusa would say something biting, making them leave with their tails between their legs. To you, he could only look down at his food silently, wishing he had the guts to say anything to you.
“Would you like to sit with us?” Your voice was so soothing, so kind… You probably thought he was lonely, all by himself, when he did this to himself. He just wanted to get away from the crowd as they ate lunch, but you…
You really forced him out of his comfort zone from the moment you met him, huh?
“I’d prefer to stay here,” he managed to mumble out.
“Oh, okay,” you looked a little disappointed. Were you hoping to hang out with him? His heart lifted a little at the thought but quickly plummeted when you dejectedly walked away.
He knew then that, if you gave him the chance, he’d do anything to bring that smile back to your face.
The universe must hate him, Sakusa was sure of that.
Somehow, he’d been tasked to be the one to clean up all the dirty, germ-ridden volleyball equipment at the end of the night, along with that infuriating guy from your team that always had his hands all over you.
But you’d given Sakusa a little wave and sweet smile as you left, and that’s all that really mattered to him. Silly that a girl he’d just met had so much power over him.
There was a cage filled with all sorts of different PE equipment that the volleyballs were meant to go in. The two boys jogged around the gym, scooping up the balls, dropping them in the cage, and repeating.
It would’ve been fine, had it been in silence. But the other boy just would not shut up.
At first it was little digs at how their team would beat his next time, about how Sakusa’s a “weird guy”, and then he said something that sealed his fate.
“(Y/n)’s pretty hot though, don’t you think? The girl on our team? Bet you’re jealous.”
Oh, he was jealous. Jealous beyond words.
“Yeah, I’m glad she’s on the team- she looks hot in a jersey and shorts. Doesn’t she?”
Is this how he always talked about you? Did you know about this.
The two of them stopped at the cage to drop off volleyballs. As your teammate turned around to gather more, Sakusa fished around deeper inside, under the volleyballs.
“I really wish she’d let me-”
CRACK
The sound of a baseball bat meeting the side of the jerk’s skull was a wonderful sound to Sakusa.
The boy slumped forwards, landing on his face and not moving. For good measure, Sakusa brought the bat down hard on the back of his head. Twice.
He didn’t bother to touch his disgusting body to get a pulse reading- he could see the guy was dead from a mile away. It felt good. Better than he’d ever expected.
The threat was gone. Now both you and Sakusa could be a little happier.
But he wanted more. He wanted all of the competition out of the way, until it was just you and him. Maybe that was selfish of him but he couldn’t help it.
He wondered how many of your teammates he could dispose of before this week-long training camp was over.
#yandere#yandere haikyuu#haikyuu!!#yandere one shot#yandere x reader#one shot#yandere sakusa#sakusa kiyoomi
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❛𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧❜ 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬
A series of Haikyuu one shots inspired by Taylor Swift songs.
All of them are angst
I will not be writing part 2's or follow ups for any of them and the endings are all sad for reader because its kind of boring writing a happy one
If it says '???' in the character list slot, request a character pls lol
FEM (AFAB) reader x Various Haikyuu Characters
List
𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐭
Tsukishima Kei - Should've said no
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐍𝐨𝐰
Miya Atsumu - Speak Now
Iwaizumi Hajime - Back to December
𝐑𝐞𝐝
Kuroo Tetsurou - All Too Well
Suna Rintarou - I Almost Do
𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟗
𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Miya Osamu - Getaway Car
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞
Suna Rintarou - Cardigan
Oikawa Tooru - August
Remake Oikawa Tooru Oikawa - August
Kita Shinsuke - The 1
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞
Tsukishima Kei - right where you left me
𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬
Sakusa Kiyoomi - You're Losing Me
Miya Atsumu - High infidelity
Requests
??? - Red
??? - The way I loved you
??? - Exile
??? - Champagne Problems
??? - Foolish One
??? - Tolerate it
??? - Mr. Perfectly Fine
??? - Illicit Affairs
??? - Enchanted
??? - Babe
??? - Betty
Spotify Playlist
©Minarixx 2023 - please don't copy, repost or translate without my knowledge credit or permission.
#haikyuu one shot#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fic#kiyoomi sakusa#suna rintaro#suna rintarou#oikawa tooru#atsumu miya#tsukishima kei#kita shinsuke#osamu miya
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