masterlist: n/a | 18she/her
41 posts
Sweetsakusa - We Think Ourselves Into Madness - Tumblr Blog
affinity in nature
description: iwaizumi likes a lot of things, but especially you.
genre: f!reader x iwaizumi, fluff
a/n: happy bday to this king <3 (the matcha thing is projection and i’m not sorry about it)
iwaizumi liked his coffee bitter. he liked the gritty, earthiness of the espresso. it kept him rooted and steady.
you, however, preferred something gentler, like a matcha latte. sure, it tasted a bit grassy sometimes, but you didn’t mind. (you had no complaints about being tethered to the same earth as iwaizumi). and after all, the clinking noise of ice against glass reminded you of the ringtone he set for when only you called him.
you balanced each other out.
not in a polar opposite kind of way, but in a way similar to lightning and thunder. rain can exist without either, but is better with both.
you meshed together well. sure, you were great on your own, but there was another layer of wholeness that was added when you were together.
iwaizumi liked mornings. something about watching the world slowly wake up and rise with the sun, lifted some weight off his shoulders. the rustling leaves and morning dew would always be there, waiting for him everyday. iwaizumi hoped you would too.
by ‘the world’, he meant you. iwaizumi didn’t mind setting his alarm earlier so he could stay awake in bed longer. he spent the extra few minutes pulling you to his heart, feeling your breaths sync up as your chests rose and fell in unison.
in these quiet moments, you became one.
you never noticed when he did this, but warmth tended to linger a little longer- even after he had left for the gym.
iwaizumi liked his garden. however, ‘garden’ might be a stretch for the small planter of assorted herbs that sat on your kitchen windowsill.
iwaizumi never thought he’d be the gardening type; you had your various houseplants that you nurtured, and he never understood the attachment that you formed with them.
“what’s the point if you can’t even eat them?”
“hajime, if you want to grow ugly zucchini then go ahead.”
your words obviously had no bite, but iwaizumi’s stubbornness made him want to prove that he was capable. so he tried and tried, but every attempt was always unsuccessful. he either over-watered, or underwatered- there was no in between.
he was about to give up and admit defeat- even though it had never been a competition in the first place- but you had come to his aid. you spent the whole day teaching him about plant care, and from then on iwaizumi’s little herb garden thrived.
he finally understood the joy and excitement you felt when new growth appeared. seeing the progress of his garden made his chest swell with pride and he enjoyed having a shared hobby with you.
oftentimes you would care for your plants together. standing shoulder to shoulder at the kitchen sink, these were some of iwaizumi’s favorite moments. sometimes he would catch his mind wondering what it would be like if you had something else to raise, like a cat… or maybe even a baby.
he never let his mind drift too far into this fantasy, preferring to cherish the moments he had in the present. but the thought made him flush nonetheless, and iwaizumi certainly was not opposed to the idea of raising children with you.
iwaizumi liked movies, specifically ones about godzilla- but any would do, really.
he liked curling up on the couch with you after a long week of work, and forgetting his worries for the couple hours that it lasted. iwaizumi liked listening to your voice chatter about something that a character had said, it always soothed the stress out of him. sometimes he wasn’t even watching the movie, just you and the way that your eyes would crinkle anytime something funny happened.
and most importantly, iwaizumi liked you.
he liked the sound of your voice, and the way that it went up an octave when you spoke to a cute animal.
he liked the way you held onto his arm whenever you walked together. it steadied him, like the trunk of a redwood, when you showed the world that you were each other’s.
he liked the way you would ramble about your day, every now and then tugging on his shirt to make sure he was paying attention to you. he always was, just not necessarily to your words.
he liked when you did little things for him, like occasionally packing him lunch or offering him a shoulder massage. (but he liked it more when he would do things for you, your reaction always carved a permanent smile into his face.)
and as the years went on, iwaizumi found that these ‘likes’ turned into ‘loves.’ his affinity for you was rooted in years of memories. as much as he cherished the moments he had spent with you, iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of many more to come.
the two of you were still growing, like a pair of branches bobbing and weaving. but even when times were tough, you stayed intertwined with each other, completely unbreakable.
and even though the future was uncertain, iwaizumi was positive that no force of nature could ever break your bond apart because the love he had for you was a canopy of hope that snuffed out any fears and worries.
iwaizumi loved everything about the earth, but especially the fact that you existed in it.
lab partner
the moment you realized you loved him
description: your friend, kuroo, offers to help you catch up on some chemistry homework, and after a lab accident you realize that maybe he might just be more than a friend.
genre: fluff
warnings: language
a/n: ap chem prepared me for one thing and one thing only
“Thanks for helping out,” you said while tightening your goggles, “I really appreciate it.”
“It’s no big deal,” Kuroo reassured you, “I don’t mind the extra lab practice either.”
After being out sick for two weeks with pneumonia, you couldn’t have more to catch up on in school. Thankfully, Kuroo had offered to help you with chemistry, so there was one less task to worry about completing.
“You said this was a titration?” You asked while examining the lab procedure.
“Yeah, can you grab a burette?” He asked while scribbling notes onto his own packet. “They should be in the closet with the other supplies.”
“Roger.”
Chemistry has always been difficult for you- fun, but difficult. It fulfilled your childhood dream of mixing exciting liquids of different colors and creating bubbling “potions” that filled you with nostalgia. However, the actual science behind the chemicals tended to blow over your head.
Kuroo, on the other hand, enjoyed the calculations. Something about the methodical approach, to an otherwise theoretical subject, brought him peace because there was always a single right answer. There was no hesitation or second guessing himself. He was always in control.
Except with you. With you, he was completely lost in a state of limbo- entirely unable to fight off the pulls from both sides.
Were you just friends, or more?
The question caused his thoughts to run around in circles, going back and forth in a never ending cycle. Spending time with you only made everything even more confusing.
Technically, he knew that you were only friends, but he wasn’t blind enough to not notice how the air between you two was laced with something different- and it was addicting.
Your smile made his palms sweat and every time your fingers would brush against his, Kuroo’s heart would jolt into overdrive and the sound of his pulse would rack in his brain.
That doesn’t happen with friends.
You, however, dismissed these feelings as nothing special. Sure, your stomach felt all funny whenever he was near and you really wanted to touch his hair, but that meant nothing.
Because Kuroo was just a friend.
And you would keep telling yourself this because nothing could be more awkward than admitting you had a crush on your lab partner. So maybe you were in denial, but it made things easier and that’s all that mattered.
“Oi,” Kuroo called out from the lab table, “what’s taking so long?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m coming!” You shouted back, shuffling back over to the lab table.
“I thought you got lost in there,” he teased with a wide grin, “here let me help you.” Kuroo plucked the materials from your grasp and placed them on the resin slab.
You tried not to react when his fingers grazed your arms, instead focusing on the procedure that Kuroo had printed out.
“We need Sodium Hydroxide for this right?” You couldn’t help but smile at the scrawled out annotations he had left for you.
“Oh no,” Kuroo paled, “I forgot to ask Hayashi-Sensei to dilute some of that for us.”
The way he had slouched enough to fit his entire lanky frame onto the stool made your heart clench with fondness, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if his limbs were draped over you.
“Well, we need 1 Molar, right? What would it be diluted from?”
“12 Molar,” he deflated more.
“We definitely can’t use that as a substitute.”
He shook his head, “I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”
You were a little disappointed, but the look on his face made your stomach churn. He looked so sad, and it made your heart ache.
“We can just come back another time, there’s no need to worry.” Your grade was definitely going to suffer for a while, but there was nothing that could be done about it.
“WAIT!” He shouted, jerking up from his position.
His outburst startled you and you stared at him, wide-eyed.
“I’m a genius,” he grinned at you, and you tried to ignore how his smile made your chest tighten.
“Um, I’m happy for you?”
He was racing through the lab and towards the closet. “We can just dilute some of the 12 Molar NaOH to get 1 Molar! Duh, it’s so obvious. Why didn’t I think of it earlier?” He mumbled to himself while grabbing the flask.
You paled. “Isn’t 12 Molar really dangerous to handle?”
A sense of uneasiness began to blanket you. The way he was waving the Erlenmeyer flask around was a little too haphazard for your liking.
“Well yeah, but Hayashi-sensei let me do it once under his supervision,” Kuroo reasoned. He hated how your face had dropped when he told you he had forgotten; he wanted to make it up to you. “I’ll be super careful,” he added.
You could feel yourself starting to give into his pleading. Something about the way his head was tilted and pupils dilated was hard to resist. You also really wanted to get this assignment over with, and you knew it would be difficult to book another time slot in the lab.
“Fine,” you sighed, “just be cautious and put some gloves on.”
“You got it,” Kuroo exclaimed and hurried over to grab a beaker and stirring rod.
You smiled at his excitement, and slipped your own pair of gloves on too.
“Can you check how much NaOH we need?” He called from across the room.
“Yeah, in a second!” For some reason, you couldn’t stop smiling. Maybe it was Kuroo’s infectious giddiness, or maybe the thought of you two working together so harmoniously- kind of like a team, or partnership, or maybe even a coup-
“Oi, earth to Y/n?”
The words were uttered right behind you, close enough to your ear to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up; the proximity startled you, and you jumped and whirled around to face Kuroo.
However, in your alarmed reaction, your arm came into contact with the flask containing the NaOH, knocking it off the lab table, shattering the glass, and spilling its contents everywhere.
You didn’t have much time to react, before a pair of arms wrapped around your middle, and pulled you back from the wreckage- stacking you both onto a stool.
“Holy shit, are you okay?” Kuroo frantically asked.
You heard the question, yet the only thing on your mind was the fact that you were practically sitting on Kuroo’s lap, with his arms locked firmly around your frame in a tight embrace.
You could feel his chest through your back, and every heaving breath made you rise and fall along with him. At the thought of your shared closeness, your face immediately erupted into a fiery heat and you went rigid in your shock.
“‘m fine,” you managed to choke out.
His body slumped at your words, and you felt the tensed cords of lean muscle relax underneath you, but Kuroo’s arms didn’t loosen around your waist. You were still in his lap.
He was so warm. Not the volcanic temperature that your face had become, rather the feeling of a light blanket on a summer night. Kuroo was comfortable. As awkward as you felt in his grasp, you could easily get used to it- enjoy it even.
“Are you sure?” He badgered, spinning you around so he could examine you for any damage.
You were close enough for your noses to brush against each other, and as you stared into his worried, goggle-clad eyes, you knew
that this was love.
There was no point in ever even denying it. Every memory with Kuroo was filled with so much adoration, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity making enough memories with him to last forever.
“I’m sure,” you whispered, breath ghosting onto his lips.
You weren’t sure who moved first, but your lips pressed softly against each other’s and it felt like the most natural thing in the entire world. His lips were slightly chapped, but oh-so addicting.
You had wanted this moment since forever ago, you realized as your stomach fluttered.
Kuroo thought he was going to die. Well, first he thought you were going to die from the spill, and he had never felt more scared in his entire life. Everything had been going wrong today, except for this. Kissing you made his mind spin slowly, like a ballerina in a music box, and oh did it make his heart feel so full.
So he kissed you deeper, pulling you impossibly closer. It was a clumsy kiss, your goggles kept knocking against each other, and he wondered if you could feel the smile that was taking over his lips.
This was the missing piece in your relationship. For so long, Kuroo had felt like the friendly side-hugs and platonic words of affirmation weren’t enough. Touches would linger, searching for something else- something more. He knew he loved you, but for the longest time, it was only ever as a friend. At least that’s what he would tell himself.
But now, as his lips were pressed against yours, Kuroo felt so whole.
You didn’t know how much time had passed before you pulled back from each other, detangling your limbs and with a helping hand from Kuroo, you were able to climb off of the stool.
“Careful,” he mumbled, holding onto your elbows, “watch your step.”
You laughed. You couldn’t help it, you just never would have expected today to go like this.
Kuroo eyed you nervously. “What’s so funny?” Were you laughing at him? He knew that the kiss wasn’t exactly phenomenal, but there would be plenty of time to improve- if he was reading the situation correctly.
“I’m just,” you started when your laughter died down, “I’m just happy.”
“Oh,” Kuroo felt his neck flush bright red, and he couldn’t meet your eyes, “me too.”
Something about the way that you were smiling so brightly, made a similar grin stretch across his own face; and Kuroo knew that your words rang true.
And honestly, he was sure that there couldn’t be anything better than falling in love with your lab partner.
random haikyuu!! headcanons
part 1, part 2, part 3
tanaka
he ate dog food once on a dare
would do it again
akaashi
he doodles in the margins of his notes
the drawings are either really cute and aesthetic or absolutely demonic and terrifying
he refuses to send people his notes bc he gets so embarrassed by their reactions
atsumu
sends pictures of his bare ass in the inarizaki group chat
kinnie moment
but it’s always the worst timing
[kita]: we need to have an important team meeting
[atsumu]: file.jpg
[aran]: :(
osamu
whenever he cooks for atsumu he likes to mess with the seasoning so it tastes terrible
atsumu has no idea how his brother runs a successful restaurant bc as far as he knows, osamu can’t cook for shit
yamaguchi
he was in a jump rope club in middle school
he’s got calves of steel bc of it
still can do some of the tricks
kuroo
he can’t touch his toes
always complains about how his back hurts
slouching champion
oikawa
bites and picks at his cuticles as a nervous habit
his fingers are covered in band-aids
might be projecting on this one
hinata
he likes to bear crawl around karasuno’s gym at lightning speed to chase kageyama bc it freaks him out
Against the Clock [Oneshot]
100 Prompts: Timing
Summary: He followed her gaze to see Jean on the other side of the room, who was looking at her longingly, thus distorting Eren’s face into a sour frown. He know that look all too well. He shifted slightly, moving into her view instead and greeted her unceremoniously, “hey.” Mikasa blushed, she knew exactly what he was doing. [Eremika]
A/N: I love petty Eren. That is all. Set after chapter 50! Find this story on Fanfiction.net: {levi-nii-san}
–
The image of her looking up at him with a plethora of emotions painted on her face burned in his mind, long after they escaped the whole fiasco. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see her own, bright as ever despite accepting that maybe that was it for them. She seemed genuinely fulfilled and content- elated, even- that she was spending her last moments with him.
And it didn’t exactly hit him until later on that that was her goodbye, that her whole speech thanking him had essentially confirmed her intent to die by his side, through thick and thin indeed.
Keep reading
@ilovemysetters
a picture in sepia
pairing: atsumu x reader
warnings: none
genre: fluff
a/n: ‘a picture in sepia’ is one of my favourite studio ghibli soundtrack. if you want to, you can listen to it here <3 :)
“look what i’ve found!” you say, walking towards the living room.
atsumu places the knife down on the chopping board, he turns his head to the side, to your voice - and you’re waving a photograph side to side in the air.
intrigued, he asks, “a photograph?”
you smile, nose crinkling, you’re standing next to him - arm touching arm. you show him the photo, and atsumu let’s out a breathy laugh, grinning. it’s a photo of him and you, as children - you’re both holding hands in the snow, smiling brightly at the camera. the photograph itself has seen better days - the top right corner is heavily dented. and the bottom left corner has faded into a sepia hue, a bit of the snow no longer visible - a testament to its age.
atsumu gently takes the photograph from your hand, running his thumb across it. “where did you find this?” he asks.
“it was in my memory box.”
he hums, his eyes crinkling - he gifted the memory box to you on your fourteenth birthday, and so, it makes his stomach flutter knowing after all these years, you’ve still kept it, still cherishing it - filled with things important to you.
he points at you, you’re beaming at the camera with innocent youth. “i remember your coat being too big for you.” atsumu thinks back to his childhood, thinks of you complaining - front tooth missing, adult tooth growing through - about how large your coat was, wanting a coat that was much ‘cooler’.
(he thought you were always cool - no matter what coat you wore).
“i know.” you say, amused. “mama would always say i would grow into it”.
atsumu says, “she was right.”
you chuckle, nodding your head. “but look at you!” you coo. “'tsumu you were so small and cute.”
he looks at himself - you were a few inches taller than him back then. though it only lasted until he entered middle school - that was when he had his first growth spurt.
“what do you mean were,” atsumu huffs, playfully. “i’m still cute!”
you look at him, then back at the photo. “i’d say you’re handsome now.”
“handsome?” he smirks. “is that so?”
you softly shove at his chest, shaking your head - concealing your smile. “'tsumu stop flirting like a teenage boy, we’re married.”
you both start to reminisce the day this photo was taken - the poorly built snowman, the messy snowball fight, slipping on ice. those days have long gone, they’ll never come back, only a distant memory. but photographs keeps those memories alive, after all, photographs immortalise fleeting moments for eternity.
“we should frame this.”
“yeah,” he agrees, eyes light. “we should.”
a/n: i have a memory box filled with things from the past decade - like photos, trinkets, letters - and whenever i feel nostalgic, i like to look through it - remembering the person i once was :)
OmiOmi vacuuming and he comes across an area of the carpet where it makes that lskshebsbejsbsjlajsksks noise and he’s like FUCK YEAAAHHH
MY HEART CAN’T HANDLE THIS
imagining love
description: iwaizumi finally gives into his desires and allows himself to imagine love
pairing: iwaizumi x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: language
a/n: to the anon that requested this, thank you! ALSO this can be read as a stand alone as well <3
pt 1
Iwaizumi never thought he was cut out for love. Not in a cynical, self-loathing way– he just couldn’t imagine it.
He couldn’t imagine himself being vulnerable and raw with anyone. The thought of having to put himself on display made him want to immediately hide and never speak to anyone again.
Maybe that was why Iwaizumi was so drawn to you. You had known each other for years, walls had already been torn down and boundaries have been set in stone for ages. Conflicts were easily solved and rarely even arose, but even though things were simple, they were never boring.
You challenged him in a way that never pushed too far. You liked to tip-toe on the edge, teasing him, but you never overstepped. Emotions weren’t easy for Iwaizumi. They made him second guess himself and shy away, but you never charged ahead to leave him behind; rather you kept your speed gradual so he could catch up when he was ready.
But on that day when he visited you while you were sick, Iwaizumi had been the one to act first. It had felt so natural, he hadn’t even realized your hands were in his until he saw your wide-eyed expression.
It was almost comical. You were always the one to reduce him into a blushing mess that he couldn’t help but be amused by your nervous smile and sweaty palms.
The idea that maybe you just might reciprocate his feelings made his chest warm.
But what was the next step? Oikawa told him to “follow his heart” which seemed like good enough advice, until he had remarked how Iwaizumi was a “heartless brute” who “picked on his best friend for no good reason.” Therefore all advice from Oikawa was immediately scrapped, and now Iwaizumi had to start again from the beginning.
Which is what brought him standing outside your classroom, holding the same tote bag packed with an extra lunch that he had made last night for you.
If food worked last time, it had to work again– right?
He waited anxiously off to the side, searching for your familiar bobbing head in a sea of students.
Would you think it was weird of him to be waiting for you? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to meet you outside your class, but Oikawa was usually there with him.
Iwaizumi didn’t have much time to overthink it before you met his gaze and shuffled over to him.
“I’m loving the tote, Iwa,” you smirked teasingly, “it’s very trendy.”
“It’s my mom’s, dumbass, and for that comment you’re not getting any of the food that’s in it,” he grumbled, gripping the handles of the bag impossibly tighter.
“Okay relax, relax,” you tugged on his elbow, which sent shockwaves coursing through his whole body. “What I meant to say was: ‘very nice man-satchel, Iwaizumi-san, it’s so very manly and the flowers complement your biceps perf-’”
“Alright enough,” Iwaizumi didn’t think his face could get any redder, “let’s just go eat.”
You straightened. “No Oikawa today?”
Iwaizumi shook his head. Did you prefer it when Oikawa was there? He was starting to feel very awkward about the 5,000 yen he had paid Oikawa to eat lunch with someone else today.
“Good,” you said softly with a slight nod, and his heart did cartwheels.
—-
You usually ate lunch on the steps outside the volleyball gym; however since the winter had been so cold lately, you and Iwaizumi ate inside the gym, sprawled across the floor.
You looked pretty today. You always looked pretty, but today especially so. Something about the way your hair was framing your face, and lashes brushing against your cheeks every time you blinked, made his stomach twist and turn.
How did you see him? Iwaizumi knew that he wasn’t unattractive, and you liked to tease him with flirtatious jokes. But did you mean them? He always brushed your words off as trivial, trying to not get his hopes up, but the possibility of the smallest amount of genuineness plagued his thoughts.
“What ’cha thinkin’ ‘bout?” You asked with a mouthful of rice.
“About how I’m going to have to tell you that you have soy sauce all over your face.”
Your brows wrinkled as you wiped your face, and Iwaizumi wanted to reach out and smooth the furrow with his fingertips.
“Did I get it all?” You asked him, and your eyes looked so clear and bright that he longed to stare into them forever.
He could feel his face starting to heat up again. “Hold on there’s just a little left…” Iwaizumi trailed off while brushing his thumb against the corner of your mouth.
Shit, shit, shit.
You were so close– only a breath or two away, and wow did your hair always smell that good?
This was so ridiculously cliché, practically out of a movie, and yet Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel giddy, despite his whole body nearing volcanic temperatures and his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears.
Your own expression mirrored his, except you looked expectant– like you were waiting for something.
Him, he realized, you were waiting for him.
In any other situation, you would just plow ahead, trusting that Iwaizumi would easily catch up. However, whenever the conditions became nuanced with emotion, you always let him make the first move. You never pressured him into anything and left the situation entirely in his control.
Which he needed. When everything got too overwhelming, Iwaizumi was desperate to grasp onto every ounce of control possible.
And you let him too. You didn’t have to be this patient with him, but you were. All of this was uncharted territory for Iwaizumi: the vulnerability, the emotions, and the desire.
So he gave into everything, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.
It was a gentle kiss, just a brushing of lips, and he was about to pull back before you leaned in further and deepened the kiss. You were both left breathless when you pulled away from each other, and Iwaizumi couldn’t fight the grin that reached his face.
“Got it,” he mumbled against your lips.
You stared at him wide-eyed and speechless before throwing your head back and laughing at his remark.
“My hero,” you teased.
He flushed deeper, getting impossibly redder. He wanted to do it again, and again.
It still scared him. This added layer of emotions would leave him more exposed, but he knew that you would never push him past his limits, and for this he was forever grateful.
So no, Iwaizumi couldn’t imagine himself in love,
with anyone but you.
Iwaizumi after you sneeze: bless you
Iwaizumi after you sneeze four times in a row: alright that’s enough
IWAIZUMI SUPREMACY
tender and gradual
the moment you realized you loved him
description: you get sick with a cold and your friend makes the fever and headache bearable.
pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: illness (not covid), language
a/n: SO MUCH DIALOGUE SORRY. I have the biggest crush on this man
You should’ve listened to Iwaizumi when he told you to put on more layers before braving the Miyagi winter.
“Iwa, I’ll be fine,” you had reassured him, “it’s not even that cold.”
“Don’t come crying to me when you get sick,” he scoffed, loud enough to make the audio crinkle through your phone’s speaker, “I don’t want you to watch me play if you’re going to get hypothermia on the way over.”
“Relax, Iwa. I’ll grab a jacket or something if it gets you off my back,” you grumbled through the phone lodged in between your ear and shoulder.
His scowly retort made you snicker as you swung the front door behind you.
“See ya there!” You cheered into the phone before hanging up and racing to the bus stop.
—–
Turns out, the jacket wasn’t enough to keep you warm on the walk; which is why you were spending the day stuck in your bed, sick with a pounding headache and sore throat.
Iwaizumi always felt the need to remind you how stubborn you were, something that you vehemently denied–which really only further proved his point, but you always conveniently became painfully distracted whenever he chose to bring this up. Especially now, when you were actively avoiding your friend’s messages and the scolding that was bound to come. You had drifted off to sleep, thinking that you were in the clear, until your bedroom door banged open, startling you awake from your nap.
“You really thought that you could hide from me forever?” a voice remarks above you. Iwaizumi stood at the foot of your bed, brows furrowed and gripping a handful of his mother’s flowery tote bag.
You groaned into your pillow. “Please don’t yell at me, my head hurts enough already.”
“Quit complaining,” he grumbled, digging his hand into the bag, “Eat this.” He passed a thermos over to you.
“What is it?” You decided not to mention the godzilla stickers that covered the metal exterior, valuing your life in this moment.
“Soup,” he stated simply before plopping down onto the covers, right on top of your poor, squished feet.
“OW!” you yelped, “that hurt.”
“I bought you candy too.”
“You’re forgiven. What kind?” You peered into the bag.
“Hey! Watch it,” he swatted your hand away, “let me do it so you don’t get your germs everywhere.
“Didn’t know that you still believed in cooties,” you smirked.
He rolled his eyes, but there was no animosity behind the action. “You’re not getting any candy until you finish your soup.”
“Whatever, mom.” He frowned at your remark. “Toss me a spoon.”
“I don’t have to be your mom to give a shit about what happens to you,” Iwaizumi grumbled.
“So sweet, you actually have feelings.”
“I’ll leave and take the candy with me.”
“Alright, I’ll behave! Let’s not get too rash, Iwa.”
You slurp your soup happily as he scrolled through your laptop.
“Wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure,” you replied in between mouthfuls of noodles.
He chose this time, deeming that you were too sick and your judgment had been compromised. “You’re just going to pick some shitty movie and then fall asleep halfway. If I’m going to be the only one watching all the way through, then I should be able to pick.”
“That’s definitely just a lame ass excuse to watch Godzilla for the millionth time,” you mouthed back.
Iwaizumi flung a pillow at you, knocking you back down onto your bed. “Quit whining, I know you like it too.”
You stuck your tongue out before erupting into a coughing fit.
He gently patted your back and handed you a glass of water. “If you get me sick, I’m totally gonna kick your ass.” The juxtaposition between his harsh words and sweet actions amused you.
“Wow, I’m really feeling the love,” you said after your throat cleared up.
He grunted, but made no further comment.
As unfriendly as your banter seemed, Iwaizumi held a special place in your heart. He was always there to support you, no matter how inconvenient it was for him.
He made you soup.
Something about the image of Iwaizumi standing in his kitchen and stirring a boiling pot just to help you feel better, made your chest fuzzy. You had felt this way a few times before, but you had always shaken the feeling off. Iwaizumi was just being a nice person, he cared this way for everyone. He had always been a giver, putting others before himself. You had noticed it with Oikawa, yourself, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and the rest of the volleyball club.
What made his feelings towards you any different from them?
The thought made your stomach churn and brows furrow. He was actually kind of handsome too- that much was obvious. You and Oikawa paid Iwaizumi plenty of compliments, mostly because the flush that would appear around his ears while he shouted obscenities’ in retaliation was all too amusing, but also because you meant every word that came out of your lips.
And you had to tell him. Even if your tone was joking and he didn’t take it seriously, you still wanted to tell him nice things about himself because Iwaizumi deserved to hear it.
Did you want him to feel differently towards you?
“Are you falling asleep already?” He nudged your shoulder with his, snapping you out of your daze.
“We’re barely fifteen minutes in, do you really have that little faith in me?” You felt your palms begin to sweat at his touch.
“Is that drool on your chin?”
“Shut up, dickhead.”
“Wow, very mature,” he teased and turned back to the screen.
Even simple moments like these, you cherished because they were with him- quiet and intimate Iwaizumi.
“Thanks.”
He turned his head to face you, confused by your statement. “For what?”
You made a gesturing motion with your hand at the tote bag. “Thanks for taking care of me. It really means a lot.”
Thank you for tolerating me for all these years. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for being you. Thank you for everything.
“Yeah well,” he trailed off, ears crimson, “you would do the same for me.”
Yes you would, you realized. You would walk around the whole globe to be with Iwaizumi, but it wouldn’t even matter because he would travel double just to be able to journey with you twice.
Why was it so difficult to put your thoughts into words? When you thought about him your mind traveled at the speed of light, but now that he was right in front of you, your brain turned to mush.
“You know,” you took a deep breath, “you’re actually kind of a good guy.”
Oikawa was going to give you so much shit for this.
“Don’t say that like it’s revolutionary, brat.” He had turned away from you, but you still saw him fighting to hide a smile.
You both sat silently watching the characters move on the screen while a different scenario played through your heads.
What would happen if you were to brush your fingers across his? Would he flinch away, or would he welcome your touch?
You didn’t have to imagine for much longer, as Iwaizumi’s hand grazed against your knuckles.
“Holy shit, your hands are freezing,” he mumbled, taking your hands into his own and massaging the warmth back in, “did you even eat my soup?”
You gaped at him. “Um, well…”
You were about to explode. When the hell did he get like this? You had always been the one to tease him and make his face glow red, so how on earth has Iwaizumi managed to reduce you into a speechless wreck?
“Hey, Iwa?”
“Yeah?” He turned back to face you.
The laptop screen illuminated half of his face. He looked so youthful sitting there. The furrow that liked to rest between his brows had smoothed over, and you were reminded of how gentle Iwaizumi could be when he wasn’t worrying over something.
Tenderness coursed through Iwaizumi’s veins and fueled his daily actions. You’d seen it in the way he cared for his team, classmates, and you. He never asked anything in return, and yet there’s never been another person more deserving.
“Where’d you put my candy?”
He blinked slowly at you before snorting, “Jeez- hang on, I’ll grab it for you.”
You’d forgotten that his hand was in yours until he slipped it free, and you couldn’t help but miss the warmth. Something between the two of you had shifted. Maybe it happened before today, and it was only now that the gradual build had been made visible to you.
Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful you had caught a cold.
“Oi, what are you looking at? Or did your brain finally give up?” Iwaizumi waved a free hand in front of your face.
“Ha ha, very funny,” you deadpanned, “now hand over the goods before I punch you in the leg.”
“Oh and I’m the violent one,” Iwaizumi scoffed but tossed a packet of m&m’s into your lap and pressed play.
—–
Iwaizumi was right, you fell asleep with fifteen minutes left of the movie. When you woke hours later, he was gone, but you liked to think that you hadn’t imagined the feeling of lips pressing against your forehead as you were tucked into bed.
i love this idea of people flirting with matsukawa at funerals for their relatives, but like... i’m just imaging how distraught he would be. like, sneaking into the employee’s only bathroom, recording a video saying “like, i literally just burned your granny’s body and you’re flirting with me??? i literally have your granny’s ashes on my suit right now” and sending it to the seijoh 4 snapchat every once in a while and everyone loses their shit laughing when it happens. they especially love teasing him when it’s an older widow and makki always suggests stealing her heart and getting on the will. iwaizumi yells at makki for his suggestion the next time they see each other in person and matsukawa suggests hitting the old granny widows up so makki can keep being unemployed
capricorn energy is when you have a short pity party but can’t stand the idea of failing to reach your unattainable expectations you set for yourself so you go back to working on the project that was causing you a mental breakdown in the first place.
at four, this is what it means to be illuminated. | nanami k.
genre: domestic fluff | wc: 600+
a/n: @mrs-kuroojinguji lowl
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Should the world ask, “What is love to you?” you would answer with many things.
In the mornings, you suppose that love is your cup of caramel beside his dark brew. It’s warm kisses in cold winter air, and a scarlet duvet over the contours of skin you’ve mapped and memorized again and again.
Keep reading
the love in life which keeps us young | matsukawa issei
synopsis: in which matsukawa issei thinks of you as he says his vows.
characters: matsukawa issei, issei anon you
genre/wc: fluff, 2000+
a/n: no thoughts brain v empty only issei
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“Do you wanna write out our vows or do you just wanna repeat after whatever the dude says?”
You look at Issei, his eyebrows knit together in the way that tells you he’s serious about his question, then at the faraway look he has on his face as his eyes zeroes in on the wall behind you. You laugh; the kind that fills you with a sort of giddiness that you don’t think you could ever get sick of, before taking a quick sip of your drink and thinking about his words.
“This is the one time in our lives where you get a chance to make me feel like a Y/N in front of a crowd, Issei,” you laugh.
Keep reading
Imagine Matsukawa coming home and he tells you a bullshit story of working at a funeral home. Here’s one I came up:
Warning: mentions and description of barf, mentions of funeral homes, caskets, and dead bodies
Note: I had way too much fun writing this
“You are not going to believe what happened today,” he huffed angrily as he tosses his jacket on a hook near your home’s entrance.
“What?” You ask with a semi-mouthful of food.
He locks his eyes with yours. “Some kid threw up in the casket.” The dark obsidian pools held utter wrathful irritation.
Your eyes immediately widen, narrow, and then dart away to avoid his gaze, fearing you might lose it if you made eye contact. You suck in your lips nervously to contain the laughter surging in your chest, coughing into a fist to dispel it.
“I even had to clean it up,” he says exasperated, hands clenching into fists, veins popping and relaxing at his movements.
“That,” you begin with a deep breath, swallowing the remnants of food down, “sounds awful. To the home and the family too,” you quickly add. If you kept talking, you wouldn’t give away your amusement.
He scoffs, but it sounded like an exhausted annoyance. “Yeah, it was. It was even chunky.” He turns to look at you, but noticed how you were hiding your face behind your hand, the crinkles at your eyes evident of the grin behind your palm.
Your eyes meet and you can’t hold it in any longer. The laugh you felt bubbling in your chest bursts past your lips before you can reign it back in. You clamp a hand over your lips, but it fails to subdue the chortles. You desperately clutch your sides as ceaseless laughter seize your body. Your eyes squeeze shut, forcing a tear down your face.
“I’m sorry,” you managed to gasp out before dissolving into laughter again. “But that’s hilarious. The description and the kid,” you wheeze as you continue to chuckle at the absurdity.
Matsukawa can’t help but guffaw with you. The thought of him spewing vulgar curses while stubbornly cleaning up after a poor kid who couldn’t stand a corpse was absolutely ludicrous. You even felt bad for the kid who had to be on the receiving side of Matsukawa’s infamous withering gaze. He could’ve created an even bigger mess.
He pulls the chair out next to you, eyes glinting with humor and watches as you wipe away the tears of laughter from your blossomed cheeks.
“Do you want me to tell another story at my work?” He asks, suddenly mischievous, a part of him wanting to hear your ringing laugh. The horrifying experience had completely slipped over his head.
You quickly nod, forgetting how badly your sides and jaw hurt.
He smiles as he takes your hand and begins the story.
You both spent the night taking turns and sharing stories and ordeals that happened at work, howls of laughter and countless chuckles fill the air of your home and it now became tradition.
Ever since then, he finds himself filled with giddiness on his route home to tell you what happened today, and eagerly waits to hear yours.
It’s nice to come home like this, he thinks.
HOLY FUCK WOW
lined figures - i.
a collection of monoline sketches and paint splatters
featuring : sakusa kiyoomi, ojiro aran, and azumane asahi
here’s part two !
[ note ] — so i messed around a bit while making a spread for school, and ended up with these guys! also mushroom chocolate had a part in stimulating my creative juices, so go and give it a listen <3
[ itachiyama’s sakusa kiyoomi ]
[ inarizaki’s ojiro aran ]
[ karasuno’s azumane asahi ]
floraliaison © 2021 — please do not remove the watermark. credit if using / reposting (floral.liaison on instagram). thank you!
A Disclaimer
Some people might find this extremely disturbing. Trigger warning, there is mentions of homophobia, racism, and suicide. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED
Something has come to my attention and I feel like I should speak about as someone who likes Sakusa’s character. (I will try to avoid posting these kinds of things on my blog from now on because I want it to be a place where people can enjoy my work).
I saw there was a #sakusa hate night tag and clicked on it seeing what it was about and I am currently disgusted by what I read.
If you didn’t know, people have been making headcanons of Sakusa being homophobic and racist and it’s hysterical to me that the Haikyu!! fandom has a particularly large gay/LGBTQ+, LGBTQ+ ally, and POC fan base yet makes headcanons about certain characters (Sakusa, Tsukkishima, to name a few) being homophobic and racist and using the #sakusa hate night tag to spread it. Quite frankly, it’s ironic and embarrassing.
And the people who are doing this just so happen to be POC, Gay/LGBTQ+ or LGBTQ+ allies. If you are doing this, you are literally contradicting yourself. You are spreading homophobia and racism and it needs to stop. (To the person who said you liked to make jokes about racism and homophobia, you are undermining the decades of discrimination people went through. Some people were killed for being who they are and it is still happening now. You disgust me.) They are creating headcanons that are not even remotely close to their canon character. I am not saying this on the behalf of just Sakusa but also some other Haikyu!! characters who are also accused of being homophobic or racist and the fandom continues to enforce it or do nothing about it. Racism and homophobia can’t be justified as jokes and humor, it’s sickening and simply downplays the trauma of what it’s like to be LGBTQ+ and/or a POC.
Huge trigger warning ahead: Mention of suicide.
It even went as far as almost making someone commit suicide because of the headcanons they made about Sakusa. If you are really bold enough to accuse a fictional character of being homophobic and racist because you think it’s fun, then please turn on your comments on your posts because you are part of the problem. Jokes about homophobia and racism is not humor, it’s utter disrespect. You also claim that the information you put on Sakusa’s Wiki page about how he was homophobic and racist was ‘true’. How?
It hurts even more that Sakusa’s meticulous and perfectionistic like qualities is something I am able to relate to while there are people who will make harmful assumptions about a character who some people enjoy. (And don’t pull the ‘it’s because he gives off that vibe’ excuse or that was your first impression of him. He is in the manga and if you paid close attention, you would be able to see that he is not homophobic or racist.)
I am not saying you are not allowed to dislike a character and if you do, it’s not that hard to keep it to yourself, but to make accusations and hurtful headcanons about a character can actually hurt the people who can actually relate to them. If you dislike them because of a headcanon you came up with or that’s your first impression of them and you didn’t actually analyze and do any research about them, then that’s where the line is crossed.
Before you attack me for being pressed about this and calling me petty, this is more severe than you think it is. The people who are doing this are being homophobic and racist even though they might say otherwise.
If you don’t like what I said then please feel free to block me, but I would like to make it clear I do not tolerate homophobia and racism whatsoever. Even though I only have a small following on this platform, I am determined to make this blog a safe place for others.
If you are curious about what sakusa hate night is about, it’s pretty easy to search up, but please be cautious. Some of the stuff under that tag is disturbing and may trigger some people. I only ask you be aware.
I don’t like asking for likes and reblogs, but this is so important so please reblog and like this post. This is something everybody should be aware about. (Yes, I will post something else soon, don’t worry.)
THIS IS AMAZING
Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)
Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke. Kuroo Tetsuro. Tsukkishima Kei. Bokuto Koutaro
Masterlist link
Wordcount: 2.5k
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff
Genre / Pairings: Fluff, Hogwarts AU, Sakusa / Reader
Summary: You’re invited to Kiyoko’s seventeenth birthday party, which turns out to be a ball for the glittering elite of the magical world, where you meet one very surly, very sulky Sakusa Kiyoomi.
A/N: Comments as always, are much welcomed. Feel free to shout at me anytime!
Requests closed for the time being!
Though if you toss a suggestion my way that I like, I may…reconsider ;)
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You feel out of place in this party filled with the glittering elite of magical society. Your sleeves do not quite reach down to your wrists, and the ruffles on the neckline of your dress robes are a little limp, but you’ve had to make do with the rejected pile of clothes from your more affluent cousins. It’s not often you get invited to formal dinner parties anyway. Your home is a tiny attic flat on the cross junction between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, and your mother is just a humble cleaning lady, so this soiree is just an exception - your classmate Kiyoko being exceptionally kind and inviting you to her seventeenth birthday party.
“Look! Isn’t that Sakusa Kiyoomi? Isn’t he handsome?” You can hear the girls around you sigh dreamily to their friends as said boy enters the ballroom with his cousin Komori in tow.
The Ravenclaw seeker elicits this sort of reaction even in school - or especially in school, but you’ve never joined his legion of fans, his overall grumpiness acting as a deterrent to you ever speaking to him despite sharing multiple classes together. Still, he is handsome, you admit to yourself. Towering over most of the party guests, Sakusa Kiyoomi has artfully tousled black curls, cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and the most adorable pair of moles above his right eyebrow.
Keep reading
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.
synopsis; you were in the middle before you knew you had begun. or, the pride and prejudice remake that no one asked for. (for the love club love collab.)
pairing; sakusa x f! reader
contains; enemies-to-lovers, self-indulgent yearning, historical au (eighteenth century) with no discernible location, mutual pining, slow burn, no sex because it’s jane austen, lots of direct quotations from the novel and pride and prejudice (2005) because why ruin perfection
acknowledgements; i would like to formally thank @suedebunn for being my pillar of moral support and @kmorgzz for beta reading in my time of need. i love you both most ardently.
word count; 10.1k
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– ACT FIVE.
it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
at least, that’s what your mother, mouth full, would have told you and your sisters over the dinner table. retrospectively, though, you should have told her that she was entirely full of shit. had you known better then, you would have turned down the dances, the meetings, the tense flirtation. you would have, had you realized, separated yourself from him and his possibilities entirely. you would have rewritten the nature of your entire existence so that you did not, would not, have to watch your sister’s heart be shattered like glass across the tiles.
perhaps single men want wives. but that does not mean they want you. and that certainly does not mean they will play nice to get it.
Keep reading
*violently bangs head against table*
The edges of your mouth are cracked. They have been for the last few months, but it’s become persistent lately.
“It’s vitamin deficiency,” Sakusa says, his hands cradling your face as he studies your lips. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling, still not quite used to having him so close. He smells sweet and earthy, as if the rain had suddenly decided to become drops of vanilla.
“How have you been sleeping lately?” he asks. He speaks quietly but you can feel the base of his voice, as if you’re in a concert hall.
“Pretty decently,” you stammer. “I wake up a lot, though… and I guess I’ve been pretty stressed. There’s just so much work to do.”
You’ve probably been together for three months now and this is probably the closest he’s ever been. From the beginning you understood that things would take time.
Criss-cross on the floor across from each other, mere centimeters away, you realize you’re overwhelmed. Perhaps it’s a good thing that it’s taking time, then.
Sakusa stands for a moment to retrieve a bottle of cream. When he sits down again, a breeze of vanilla washes over you.
“It’s petrolatum-based, I use it a lot for my elbows and knees after practice,” he explains, pumping a little onto his index finger. You nod, as if he’s lecturing on the universe, your heart picking up as you realize what he’s about to do. Eyes quickly go back to the ceiling.
The silence almost kills you as he dabs the cream to the lesions of your mouth. He’s even closer now, you can feel and smell his breath. It smells like mint and you almost laugh, in all your nervousness, because of course he would have minty breath.
Then he leans back, rubs the residual cream into the back of his hand. You watch him discreetly, trying to keep your breathing level, only for it to hitch when his eyes calmly settle on you.
You find it hard to look at the ceiling this time, having been captured. Sakusa stares at you, calmly, and you stare back in this silent game. Then he leans forward, placing a warm palm on your cheek.
He says, “Hey.” It’s almost a whisper. You close your eyes.
He kisses you on the forehead. For some reason your heart still bursts, as if you’ve just shared an award-winning movie kiss. You could hardly feel it; you could believe that it was a ghost. But the smell of sweet rain that encompasses you tells you otherwise.
Sakusa keeps his hand on you for a moment longer before he stands.
“I’ll have dinner ready in an hour,” he says over his shoulder on his way out. “Get some sleep.”
You wonder if his heart is running like yours.
Coming Home At Twilight
A lil Nanami brain rot (more like a rant)
Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen
Genre: fluff, domesticity, drabble, slice of life
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.7k words
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“I’m home,” you call to no one in particular. You are met with the eerie silence of your home, the air conditioner humming softly in the background as a natural ambient sound to fall asleep. You slip on a pair of house slippers, the soft padding breaking the serenity of the home.
You walk into the living room and the sight of Kento sleeping soundly on the leather couch with a book open on his chest and his glasses still resting on his nose appears before you. It is a wonderful sight to see him so relaxed and casual; the light just barely peeking through the twilight, ending the night puts you into tranquility. Smiling, you set down your work bag and tiptoe closer.
His shirt still tucked, but ruffled from turning in his sleep, his tie thrown half-hazardly on the one of the cushions and he still looked as handsome as ever. Perfectly sculpted cheekbones, his defined jaw, the slope of his nose, his normally flawlessly styled hair now hanging in small wisps on his forehead and seeing all of it, there was no doubt in your mind that he was made by the gods themselves.
His eyebrows were no longer pinched together and his lips were relaxed, not the typical thin line of subtle annoyance that could quickly curl into irritability. In other words, he was the epitome of effortlessly good-looking.
You gently pry off his glasses, placing them on the coffee table. He doesn’t flinch nor open his eyes. He is typically a light sleeper, constantly hyper aware in his sleep. He gives no sign of waking up.
He must’ve had a long day at work last night.
You glance at the clock on the coffee table, a frown growing. It is still 4:56 in the morning. A part of you wished to not wake him up, give him some well deserved rest, but concern rose in your chest at the thought he might be overworking himself. You set your hand on his, tracing the veins that protruded from his knuckles.
You lean over and place your lips on his forehead, brushing away the hair that fell on his face. When your eyes fall onto his face again, you are met with pools of a gentle blue sea that is his eyes. You kiss his forehead again and his eyes flutter closed.
“Love, you should be sleeping on the bed instead of the couch,” you mutter against his hairline.
He sighs exhaustedly, running a tired hand through his hair before meeting your gaze, bored orphic eyes sucking the light out of the room. You just knew that he was sleeping on the couch to wait for you to come home as much as he would hate to admit it. You simply knew him too well.
You continue to stroke his cheek as if holding the finest china, your thumb caressing the skin just underneath his eye bags that were always there, making him look much more older and mature for his age. “How long have you been laying here?”
His eyes soften just a little from your touch and he shuffles to make himself more comfortable, resting his head against his forearm. “I was reading a book and then I fell asleep.” Then it must have been a couple hours, you concluded.
You knit your eyebrows together. “You haven’t been overworking yourself, have you?”
He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t,” he says with nonchalant honesty. Nanami knows how you complain when he pushes himself too much, but his job was still demanding. His work ethic is certainly admirable.
Your hand instinctively moves to his chest, just above his stomach, patting it soothingly. “You should get some more rest. I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”
“No. Stay here.”
Your eyebrows knit together, causing a wrinkle on your nose and forehead. “No?” His request was strange to say the least. He never did anything out of the necessary and frankly, it was like that for most of your relationship. Sure, there were some moments of shared affection, but even then, Nanami was a man who liked to keep to himself.
Swinging his legs over the edge and pulling you up, he wraps his arms around your waist and begins to sway back and forth as if to balter to a silent tune, his forehead leaning against yours and his breath tickling your nose.
Your body stiffens in surprise. He’s not normally like this.
You pull away just enough to scan his face for anything strange. He doesn’t look any different. You place the back of your hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature.
Kento’s eyebrows furrow in slight irritation and the peaceful look of bliss flickers away at the cool touch of your hand. “What are you doing?”
You frown. “Are you sick, Kento? It’s not typical of you to act like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh,” is your only response as you give up the energy to explain his strange behavior. Hesitantly, you relax into his embrace and he pulls you flush against his body as your arms drape over his shoulders. You exhale the subtle cologne of wood and maple on his shoulder, releasing the mountain of stress that had accumulated on your shoulders throughout the last few weeks.
“You looked a little stressed,” he says eventually, answering your question from earlier. “Maybe this might alleviate it,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, sending electricity down to your toes. His reassuring words and the way his tongue adds stress to his “t’s” warms the base of your stomach and causes butterflies to erupt.
You sigh heavily with content and he hums in response. It did help lessen the tempestuous strain in your mind. Work was a pain and becoming a slight burden, but Kento had no problem soothing it all away with soft kisses and passionate embraces.
You felt like your soul were floating of pure bliss, ascending away from Earth and into the heavens all while Kento kept you grounded and held on, refusing to let go as if you were his lifeline and truth was, you probably were his lifeline and he was yours.
Your hand trails up to his hair, combing through his locks that tickled your palms. He releases a small sigh, melting in your touch and squeezes you just a little bit tighter like he was scared an outside force would snatch you away.
It would have been awkward if it wasn’t for the ill-coated affection. And though it was quiet, there weren't any words needed to be exchanged as if a turn of phrase would disrupt the comfortable silence the two of you created.
You slowly blink away the sleep, but to no avail, you squint at the sun peeking through the horizon, it’s rays beam into the penthouse suite apartment.
“The sky looks beautiful,” you mumble into his shirt, sleep threatening you into oblivion.
“Mhmmm,” he hums agreeingly into your hair, his hands running along the valley of your spine, up and down before settling on your lower back. He cracks his eyes open, also slowly succumbing to exhaustion due to lack of sleep. He peers down to see you in all your angelic beauty. The sun highlights the plains of your face, your cheeks illuminating golden in the early morning sun. You looked ethereal. Serendipity must have been on his side when he first met you.
He is aware that the sunrise is beautiful, reds, oranges, pinks, yellows, and blues smeared across the sky as the sun slowly creeps up like every cliché painting, but you are even more divine and luminous than the star itself so he stares at you with an adoration that is only meant for you.
You crane your head, meeting his soft gaze and breaking his scrutiny. You stare intently at his vivid blue hues, as blue as the sky, the dawn making his eyes gleam. Perhaps that’s why you feel like floating when he is holding you close to him. Maybe that’s why you feel like you’re in heaven when you’re his arms, but also grounded at the same time because he is like heaven on earth.
Wow.
Your eyelids feel heavy as you slowly close them, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips as you raise yourself on your toes towards him. He meets you halfway and closes the space, giving you a few kisses before pulling away, satisfied.
You mumble a quick, “I love you,” against the corner of his lips before pecking his cheek and leaning against his chest once again as he ever so slightly sways back and forth, as if rocking you to sleep.
“Love you too.” He no longer shies away from those words like he used to, weary of the lifelong commitment those words brought. He reaches for your hand, the certain finger containing a gold wedding ring. He places his lips on the cool metal, a wordless reminder of his infinite love, sealed by a simple promise.
“Let’s go to bed,” he mutters against the crown of your head and you let out a soft sigh. His arm still wrapped around your waist, he guides you into your shared bedroom.
You sink into the mattress, groaning at the relief that flooded through your body. Kento crawls next to you, his calloused hands never leaving your waist.
“Ken,” you say, voice groggy and practically on the verge of passing out. “Don’t you have to go to work?”
“I’m taking a day off,” he says simply. “You must be exhausted. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in time for breakfast.”
You scoff softly into the silk pillowcase. “As if,” and with that you fell asleep to his fingers lingering aimlessly on your clothed stomach.
Nanami contemplated if it was a good idea to wait for you to come home and wake up in the wee hours of the morning only for him to fall asleep on the couch and you had to pulled him out of sleep. Maybe it didn’t go as planned, but it sure felt nice when the two of you watched the sunrise together before going back to bed.
He whispers another ‘love you’ into the back of your neck before letting sleep cast its spell. Though he falls into a deep dreamless slumber, he feels light and airy like floating among the clouds.
Yeah, you definitely made him feel like he had entered heaven and it never gets old.
random head canon i have of sakusa that currently lives rent free and fully furnished in my head
when sakusa was little, he would crawl into a basket of laundry that just came fresh out of the dryer and fully bury himself into the sheets. he finds the warmth really comforting so he ends up falling asleep in there and his parents will sometimes find him snuggled into the warm fabric, sleeping peacefully (and he REFUSES to admit it. only komori knows of this).
THE WAY I WOULD RISK EVERYTHING FOR HIM
sakusa’s the type of dad to be eating cereal with his daughter on a sunday morning with cartoons playing in the back, smiling when she tells him they’re almost out of cereal. “oh yeah? you gonna pay for it, or is that my job?” he teases her softly with a sly grin, “i don’t have any money!” she cries out through giggles. “oh yeah, i forgot. six year olds don’t usually have jobs, do they?”
Dimples and Laughter
Description: Sakusa has dimples. That’s it. This is what we are talking about today.
Disclaimer: I saw a post with something similar to this where they talked about Sakusa having dimples and I forgot who did it so when I find it, I’ll tag them. Just know that’s my inspiration for this. Anyways, enjoy my first post!
Genre: Fluff, sorta marriage and parenting au, drabble, slice of life,
Character Pairing: Timeskip Sakusa x Reader + your nine month old daughter, Rina
Warnings: none (unless babies count as a trigger warning lmao I’m really sorry), SAPPY AND ROMANTIC AF
A/N: I’m so obsessed with him
Word Count: 1.5k words
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You roll over to your side, groaning as the sun’s rays penetrate through your eyelids, stirring from your restful slumber. You reach to feel the side of the bed where Kiyoomi normally sleeps, the sheets now cool to the touch from abandonment. You sigh into his pillow, the subtle scent of his cologne wafting into your nose. You want to stay there forever, but most of all, you want his strong arms thrown around your waist, burying into his toned chest, the warmth emanating off his frame in waves and warming your body.
You feel yourself growing bored without his presence. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, trudging to the bathroom and turn the nob in the shower to get the hot water running. You throw your clothes into the hamper before hopping in. After showering, you grab some clothes from your closet and slip on a pair of sweats and t-shirt before tying up your damp hair. As you walk down the hall to begin breakfast, a fit of muffled laughter comes from behind a cracked door of the nursery.
Curiosity bubbles inside your chest and you tiptoe closer, leaning against the cool wood. Peeking through the small crack, the sight of your husband sitting on the sparkling clean floor, playing with your daughter, appears. A smile creeps onto your face as he holds her and lifts her up into the air and pulls her back down onto his lap. Her squeals of laughter fills your ears and Kiyoomi can’t hold back a deep chuckle, gentle and fluid, a flash of a smile flickers through his quiet laugh. Your eyes scan his handsome face, the beautiful head of curly, dark locks, obsidian eyes, his defined jawline, and the two moles above his right eyebrow only accentuates his beauty.
You continued to watch your husband play with your daughter as another squeal of laughter falls from her lips. Slowly, but surely, the small, fond smile grows into a grin, full of genuine joy, and stretched ear to ear.
His smiles were infrequent. Occasionally, you will receive a smirk or a lipped smile that shows the tiniest indent of dimples, but other than that, Kiyoomi Sakusa rarely smiled.
Your breath hitches, absolutely dumbfounded. He’s grinning. Out of four years of dating, three years of marriage and almost a year with a child, you had never seen him beam with pure happiness until now. The dimples hidden behind his calm, nonchalant expression emerge. He has dimples, the indents on his cheeks so prominent that you are tempted to stick skittles in them and convinced that they will stay.
Understanding the rarity of this small moment, you stand there, lingering by the door and taking in every second that brilliant smile is on his face. The last thing you wanted was forget the smile that brought out the divots in his cheeks. It was like falling in love with him all over again, the feeling strangely familar, yet still foreign. Your mind spaces out, your heart swells with love, threatening to burst through your chest because your poor heart can’t take it. How is it possible that you can fall in love with him more than you already were?
He’s difficult to read under his calm and collected demeanor. Everything is out of the blue with him, but he never fails to make you fall for his beautiful unpredictabilities. When he kisses your forehead through his mask after coming home, showering immediately and once he does, his lips will always be found on yours; when he mutters, “thank you, love,” when you hand him a cup of coffee or tea; when he purposely places your favorite mug on the top shelf of the cabinet so you have to ask him to grab it for you and he gets the chance to kiss your shoulder or cheek and hug you from behind; when you catch him staring at you and he doesn’t look away, he has a fond look of awe in his eyes, unwavering, and heat rushes up your face.
The unpredictability of Kiyoomi only makes you hopelessly fall in love with him. It never fails to make your stomach flip at the small acts of affection he gives you, undeniable adoration he shows to you and to you only. It hits you when you least expect it and it's a wonderful surprise that renders you tongue-tied and you try to say the words, but your mind is in too much of a jumbled mess that they don’t fall past your throat. It was moments like these that left you star-struck and utterly speechless. You swear he’s going to be the death of you.
You decide to finally make your presence known. You nudge the door open, careful not to disturb their peace.
“Good morning, Kiyoomi,” you whisper as you gently shut the door behind you.
He lifts his head at your voice, a flicker of a smile still teasing his lips when he finally lets his face relax. “Good morning, darling.” The pet name always sends tingles across your body, making your toes curl and your heart ache.
Your daughter is still paying attention to him, her arms making motions in the air, trying to get his attention so he can lift her again. He obliges and the sweet ring of hysteric giggles fill the room once again.
You sit down next to him, your daughter’s large eyes on you now as Kiyoomi set her back down on his lap, his large hands holding her gently and rubbing her back in soothing patterns. His practicality and carefulness made parenthood look good on him.
“Good morning, Rina,” you say sweetly as you stroke the dark bunch of hair she inherited from her father.
She babbles as if trying to come up with a construction of sentences. You place a few kisses on her head, smiling at her nonsense words. Out of the corner of your eye, Kiyoomi lets his face break into a fond smile. You smile even wider.
“It seems to me that you have been using her as a dumbbell to workout,” you joke. He has been taking more days off to help you raise your daughter and she has grown even more fond of him.
He quirks an amused eyebrow. “She isn’t heavy enough to be a weight.”
You roll your eyes. “I know that.” You hadn’t forgotten his taut, muscular figure, toned with muscle and minimal fat.
“Have you eaten anything yet?” You ask as your thumb creates circles on his forearm, coiled with veins and tendons.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“I’ll start breakfast right now.” You start to stand up, but his calloused hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back.
“Can I have a kiss?” He asks gingerly, his hand caressing your jaw. It was adorable when he asked for affection and it wasn’t often when he asked.
You give him more than just a kiss. You lean in, your hand rests on his shoulder and kisses him a few times. Each time you pull away, you smile against his lips as you lean in for another one.
“I love you.” The declaration of love whispered against his lips as you placed another kiss there to seal it, let it seep into his skin, make it known to him you meant every word.
“I love you, too,” he murmurs, his thumb cradling your cheek.
You break your loving gaze from your husband to your daughter, her eyes wide as she stares at the both of you, mouth slightly agape as her brain tries to register the tender action her parents just shared. Kiyoomi’s ears are brushed with a pink tinge. Still blushing after almost being together for almost ten years? You want to say, but you bite your lip to prevent them from falling.
You laugh, light and airy as you kiss her forehead. “And I love you, Rina.”
You lift yourself from the floor, walking to the door and closing it behind. You try your best to suppress the stupid grin on your face, but fail miserably. You walk to the kitchen to make yourself coffee. You open the cabinet to get your mug and realize Kiyoomi put it on the top shelf once again. Attempting to get the mug yourself is a lost cause because he absolutely forbids it in the case you might hurt yourself.
You smile, but it falls from your face when your jaw begins to tense, letting you know you have been smiling so much to the point it hurts. Instead, you just let your lips tug at the ends.
You fervently wish he never stops surprising you. Routine is a part of Kiyoomi’s lifestyle and he enjoys the familiarity and repetition; it brings him comfort. It is easier for him to follow a paved road than a gravel path. How much of a surprise it was for him to include you into his routine and take the beaten path instead so he can see the flowers while walking side by side with you.
Repetition and changeability contrasts with each other like black and white, yin and yang, like the cherry blossom petals dancing in the spring air and the autumn leaves floating in the cool fall breeze, but when they are put together, it creates something beautiful and Kiyoomi is the embodiment of that strange yet beautiful combination.