#sakusa kiyoomi domestic

[asunflowerana]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐭

summary: usual grocery day with your husband

with: bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, sakusa kyoomi and osamu miya.

n/a: brought this one from my old blog, one of my favorites. I'm thinking about making a part 2 with more hq boys, I personally enjoy imagining them dealing with grocery with me 😂. hope you guys enjoy!

⊛ bokuto koutaro

a child inside a full-grow 190cm male body, that's what he is. The fact that he still pouts whenever you remind him that "no, you can't get inside the cart baby, you won't fit" proves the point. But besides his childish mood, he can turn your time shopping a lot funnier.

he does cart races, searches for lower prices like hunting a treasure, throw his hands in the air when he finds his favorite snacks and cackles at every single brand with a silly name. He's a total dork, but his excitement is so endearing that you cannot help but absorb it. It's actually sweet, the way he lightly takes a domestic duty. He's also helpful, willingly carrying the bags to the car, and storing the groceries later at home.

he yearns to stay close to you, so even if his both hands are grabbing the cart handle, at least some arm-brushing will happen. He'll feel pretty lost if you both need to part ways through the market, but it's cute how he beams when you guys find each other later.

favorite section: breakfast food section (he's addicted to cereal), and meat section.

what you usually hear from him: "babe, can we buy this?"

⊛ oikawa tooru

if there's something Tooru doesn't look forward to, is grocery day. He even tried to wipe it off the fridge calendar a few times before, but you're too good to be fooled. "the Santos already ordered by delivery, why can't we do the same?" and he always uses the neighbor's card to try to convince you, whining like his teenager version would.

but one way or another, you always get him to go. If he's in a bad mood, he'll probably sulk in the beginning, lazily riding the cart while sighing every two minutes 'cause this is a total "waste of time". But as the shopping proceeds, he gets used to it, even forgetting what he was so grumpy about when a product catches his attention. With some subtle kisses and a small treat, you can even get a smile out of him. 

He likes to wrap his arm around your back or keep you close by the waist. Not having you there with him it's the worst thing it could happen, so he needs to make sure you stay by his side (also because he simply likes holding you).

favorite section: checkouts (not a surprise), and cosmetics section (he can spend a good amount of time selecting body products).

what you usually hear from him: "are we done?"; "baby, I need your help. This one, or this one?".

⊛ sakusa kiyoomi

He's the one looking forward to this day. He gets uneasy when things run out in the house, so going shopping is almost necessary for his peace of mind. What he doesn't look forward to, though, is dealing with people at the supermarket. Most precisely, the lines, but let's not talk about it to not ruin the mood.

he's very selective, taking whatever time he has to inspect and be sure of the products, in case it isn't a common choice of yours. He appreciates being aware of what you are consuming, not only for being an athlete but because he cares about your health. He likes to share what he's been learning from the team's nutritionist, but he is not a dictator: if you want to treat yourself to some tasty sweets or snacks, he won't get in the way. He'll even join the party.

He'll offer his arm for you to wrap your own, or hold hands. He's grateful to have your company, so he'll cherish it as much as he can. He's also very protective if the place or the lines are too crowned, keeping you by his side and holding you close with his arm.

favorite section: cleaning products (you have no idea how relieved he gets when he goes there).

what you usually hear from him: "I know you want it. Go ahead, put in the cart"; "tsc, they always put the gloves way back there"; "these stupid lines. Again."

⊛ osamu miya

The king of groceries. He's used to doing this two, or three times a week, and it never gets boring. The experience has made him smarter about where and when it is best to buy, plus he has a good eye when it comes to product quality and price. So yeah, you have almost nothing to worry about when Osamu Miya is your grocery partner. Almost.

He's very chill and helpful while shopping, but you better keep a good eye on the cart: it'll get filled to the brim in one minute. When Osamu likes something, he makes a point of buying as much as he can. Once, he filled almost three entire carts, and half of one was just from rice bags. Someone might think you have a whole volleyball team as a family with the amount of food he wants to take home.

Hands on your back, shoulder, waist, any free space he has to keep you close to him – and he'll keep it there the whole time. Touch is one of his love languages, so there's no way he won't keep in contact with you.

favorite section: fruit and vegetables section, and bakery section (he loves the smell of fresh ingredients).

what you usually hear from him: "sweetheart, just one more. It'll be the last, I promise"; "hope Tsum doesn't visit us today"

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[oomisluvr]

(new!) domestic sakusa strikes again!

a/n: im so in love with the idea of kiyoomi meeting ur friends!! and them all getting along!! a short drabble, roughly 600 words. this takes place in the early stages of the relationship :')

An apartment full of five drunk girls is much louder than what Kiyoomi expected, but at least he knows he’s got the right address.

Three raps on the door activate a chorus of shrieks, and a flurry of footsteps rush for the door.

It swings open with a loud smack.

It’s your friend, the one from college with the dyed hair and smiley piercing. Kiyoomi rushes to introduce himself as your boyfriend, bowing lowly as a sign of respect to one of your closest friends. He recognises her from the pictures on your Instagram.

On the way up, he realizes she left, having opened the door and ran off to do god knows what. He blinks.

Should he… come in? Is that allowed? He’s still bent at a 45 degree angle. 

He figures it’s fine, and steps inside.

Rounding the corner, he almost laughs when he sees you, crisscrossed on the living room rug, scarfing down a large McDonald’s fry like it’s your first meal in months. He sees where your friend ran off to, having joined the rest of you all in a gossiping ring. He pretends like he can’t see up your mini skirt. 

“Hi.” He grins, boyish and cute and a little bit shy. His hair is still damp from his nightly shower, wet curls bouncing in his face making him look a few years younger. He clears his throat and waves awkwardly, “I’m Kiyoomi. It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for taking care of–”

“Ki!” You cheer, eyes lit up in excitement. You pat the spot next to you with three heavy smacks, “What are you doing here? Come sit!” 

Looking to your friend for permission to further enter her home, he kicks off his shoes and settles next to you on the rug. He kisses your forehead in greeting. You feed him a fry as thanks. Your friends coo at the interaction.

“I’m here to take you home.” He wipes a glob of ketchup from your chin. You’re gonna hear all about this tomorrow. “Ready to go?”

“Can’t I finish my food first?” You haven’t been able to stop giggling since he got here. You’re genuinely so fucking happy to see him. His Naruto themed socks make you giggle harder.

“Of course.” He confirms, adjusting the throw blanket to cover your toes, “Tell me about your night.”

“Oh my god!” Your other friend squeals, smacking the arm of the girl to her left. She’s the one that works in accounting, he thinks. You two get brunch every other Sunday, if he’s remembering correctly. “Tell him about the fucking bartender!”

All five of you double over in laughter, screaming half-finished sentences and pointing fingers at one another. Kiyoomi shakes his head in amusement, does he even want to know?

You all continue trading off stories and perspectives, and Kiyoomi feels like he’s watching a reality television show. Your nights out are much more exciting than his. At one point your friend complains about the low water pressure in her kitchen sink, to which Kiyoomi helpfully offers to replace it.

Kiyoomi’s never felt more important, giving a mini-lesson on how to change a water filter to five drunk girls. You all cheer when he flicks the tap on, the full pressure having been returned to the faucet. 

When all’s said and done, you help clean up the food containers and blankets.

“Thank you,” you whisper, fluffing a couch pillow, “For helping her. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem,” He whispers back, looking around, “Will they be okay by themselves?”

“Oh yeah,” You confirm, “We do this all the time. I’ll probably be back tomorrow morning so we can all get breakfast together.”

He hums in confirmation, “Ready to go then?”

“Yes.” You smile deviously, “But only if you carry me.”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, scooping up the heels you had tossed on the floor, “Fine. Only if I get to come to breakfast, too.”

kiyoomi is one of the girlies 💅💅💅

[flyingwargle]

atsumu is a morning person. he loves the quiet of the early hours, the drowsiness that sharpens into focus, the peace that follows the rising sun. although it pains him to separate himself from his partner each time, the drowsy, soft smile on sakusa's face when he sits at the breakfast table is worth it.

he quietly slips out from bed and into the kitchen. it's their first weekend off after rigorous training to prepare for their match against vc kanagawa, but not even off days is enough to shake atsumu from routine. he rummages through the cupboards for ingredients to make pancakes, an indulgence they definitely deserve. putting on his cooking playlist at a low volume, he gets to work.

it surprised him to learn that sakusa is not a morning person. it takes him at least three snoozes before he could be persuaded to get up, and no morning is complete without coffee. he's also much more receptive to physical affection while half-awake, although atsumu prefers to keep this tidbit to himself, if only to steal a few kisses from his usually reserved partner.

the pancake batter is done in minutes, measurements engrained in his muscle memory since childhood. sakusa likes his pancakes simple - a dollop of cream and butter. atsumu, on the other hand, goes all out, dressing them with fresh fruit and syrup, topped with a crown of cream. he slices the fruit, chills a bowl for the cream to whip once sakusa is awake. pan left to warm on the stove, he ventures down the hallway, knocking lightly on the closed bedroom door. "omi? ya awake yet? i'm about to start cookin'."

he hears shuffling, but nothing else. it's still early, according to his partner's standards, but hey, an extra hour awake just means more time together, right? atsumu enters, adding, "we can check out that park 'samu told me 'bout, said there were geese or somethin'."

sunlight strains against the curtains. a vague human shape is tucked beneath the blankets, unmoving as atsumu approaches. he peels the covers aside, greeted with a glare. "mornin' to ya too, omi."

"do you know what time it is?" sakusa's voice is much deeper after waking, harsher but without any of its bite.

"just after 10. c'mon, omi, yer burnin' daylight. we have tomorrow off too, so we can cuddle or whatever. oh, but we gotta get our cardio in." atsumu dismisses the thought. "that can come after cuddles. pancakes?"

sakusa sighs, low and heavy. "fine. just give me some time to get up."

"i'll get the cream whipped, then." atsumu leans over to kiss his cheek, smiles at his drowsy expression. he retreats, heading back to the kitchen to continue his work.

soon, the cream is chilling in the fridge, the batter is left beside the stove, pan warm and ready. atsumu knocks on the bedroom door again. "omi?"

he hears grumbles this time. pushing the door open, he sees his partner is still in bed, covers pushed aside from where he left it. when he meets sakusa's eyes, it's tinged with pain. "is somethin' wrong?" atsumu asks, worried.

"just pain in my hips," sakusa mumbles through gritted teeth. "sorry."

"don't say that. i'll grab yer heat pad. ya need painkillers, too? best ta take one with food."

"i think i'll be okay. just need some heat on it."

atsumu nods, slipping in and out within seconds. he helps position it under him, his partner letting out a tiny sigh. "there was pain in my knees too after practice," he admits quietly. "i'd rather not move much today if we have to do cardio tomorrow. sorry."

"s'no problem. just relax, 'kay? when ya feel better, let's move ya to the couch so i can feed ya breakfast and we can watch somethin' on tv." atsumu sits beside him, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "the geese can wait."

"i didn't know japan had geese."

"right? 'samu has to be lyin'."

it takes time but eventually, sakusa is coaxed out of bed and into the living room, supported the entire way. he settles on the couch, heat pad shifted to his other hip, massaging his wrists as atsumu makes pancakes, returning to his side with two plates. "want me to feed ya?"

"i can handle it." sakusa takes a fork, uses it to slice off a piece from atsumu's plate. he pops it in his mouth. "it's good."

"what's a man gotta take fer ya to say it's delicious?"

"a michelin star."

atsumu rolls his eyes. "those aren't measures fer good food an' ya know it."

sakusa chuckles, but it ends with a hiss as his hand jerks, fork falling from his grasp, landing with a clatter. atsumu puts his plate down, snatches the fork in an instant. "are ya okay?"

"yeah. just felt a jolt of pain." he sighs, hand lowered to his lap, using his other hand to massage it.

"guess i'll hafta feed ya now," atsumu jokes. when he doesn't get a retort, he blinks, notices the deep frown on his partner's face. "omi?"

"you shouldn't have to deal with me on your day off," sakusa mumbles. "i'm just being difficult."

"if i see my partner's in pain, i'm gonna do what i can to make it better. i hate that i can't make it go away completely, but i can help care fer ya and make life easier fer ya." his tone is serious, eyes bright with a cocktail of love and determination. "yer never difficult, omi. now shut up an' let me feed ya."

sakusa stares at him, incredulous. then, "you better get a clean fork."

"obviously," he retorts, standing.

"and a dishcloth to clean the floor. we don't need ants in the apartment."

"'samu dropped an entire pot of curry once an' we never got rats or anythin'."

"add to that sentence, and i'm revoking your kitchen privileges."

"are ya gonna cook? we both know ya suck at it."

sakusa rolls his eyes. "no, i don't. i learned from the best."

"aw, thanks."

"i meant your brother."

atsumu pouts, and sakusa simply laughs, a light chuckle that fills the room with light. floor cleaned thoroughly, atsumu sits beside him, feeds him bites of pancake in between conversation, checking in with his pain. dishes left aside in favor of watching tv, atsumu rests his head on sakusa's shoulder, simply enjoying his company.

the geese can wait another day.

[str4ngr]

twister [ sakusa kiyoomi ]

its my bday so bday drabble hehehe

cw: foul language, some suggestive bits, implied fem!reader

“scratch my back,” sakusa groans, melting into the couch, lying on his stomach with his bulky legs on your lap,

“no, you can do it yourself,” you dramatically groaned back, too tired from work. he shot a glare over his shoulder, freshly washed hair sticking to his forehead in strands. you gave a sarcastic smile back to him, leaning over and running your fingers through his hair, causing him to soften, 

“at least scratch my scalp,“ he pleaded, causing you to do anything but humor him as you pulled your hand away, to his disappointment. “c’mon, sweetheart, please,“ he whined, 

“with your wrists you could probably do it by yourself.“ he groaned, a dramatic, exhausted, emotional, angry, exhale leaving his lips. you could feel your chest tighten as you silently laughed, opting to loudly inhale. another glare, with a smile you couldn’t see.

“I’m not a contortionist, now please scratch my fucking back” you can’t help it as you laugh, holding onto his calves as you laugh, his choking chuckle joining you

“when did you get so needy? and besides, not a contortionist my ass have you seen your wrists??” he scoffs, 

“Yeah, my wrists dumbass, besides i’ve seen my wrists plenty when i fing--”, you slam a pillow on his head, laughter abruptly stopped by your jaw on the floor and the muted retaliations as kiyoomi reaches back to grasp at the pillow, bursting out into laughter as he sees your face, dumbfounded with your mouth wide open. he can feel his eyes burning as he shakes with amusement, his legs raising out of your lap as he turned his upper body to rest on one arm and look at you. Your face filled with an obnoxious grin, neck pulled taught at you pursed your lips together to not laugh, kiyoomi simply looking at you, the same expression on his face. 

and when your eyes met, the two of you turned to kids, laughing and giggling like there wouldn’t be a noise complaint about your idiotic humor, hands slamming against the surface of the sofa, choking in unfunny humor as your stomachs began to hurt. 

your eyes filled with tears as you escaped the weight of his legs to lie on top of him, still exasperated and laughing, kiyoomi using the pillow to defend himself as you nearly shouted when he opened his mouth again, grinning.

“i’ll shut up if you scratch my back.“

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

he gives me such deep ‘i make dirty jokes with everyone and you can’t stop me’ vibes it actually insane [thats literally me]  i just love the idea of domestic life its so cutie

directory 

[zentriii]

Dating your enemies sibling

SakuAtsu or OsaSuna (you decide cause I can’t lol)

sakuatsu it is :D

Kiyoomi stretches languidly on her bed. She’s got the day off today and finally has a moment for herself after finishing up her chores. All she wants to do is watch anime with her girlfriend until it’s time for lunch.

“Omi-chan!” Atsumu singsongs, walking out of her bathroom in nothing but shorts and a tank top. Kiyoomi pretends like she can’t see her tits through it and rolls onto her stomach with a groan. She’d rather stare shamelessly, but Atsumu’s ruthless with her teasing and they’ve already had to change her bedsheets once today.

Atsumu drops down and plasters herself over Kiyoomi’s back, undoubtedly pouting at Kiyoomi lack of affection.

“Ugh you’re all wet, did you even dry yourself off?” Kiyoomi wreathes under Atsumu, hoping that there isn’t an Atsumu-shaped water stain across her back.

“Course I did,” Atsumu squawks. “Sides I wanted to ask ya-”

“No.” Kiyoomi cuts her off. Atsumu’s been asking her for the same thing all day- impressive given that the day’s not even half over- but her answer isn’t changing. Kiyoomi does not want to go to Osamu’s housewarming party next week.

A part of her is proud that she was able to afford her own home, that Onigiri Miya’s become a successful chain. But every other part of her is still a first year university student and unable to process her embarrassment and let go of petty resentment.

If Kiyoomi doesn’t think about it, it doesn’t matter.

“Pleaseee,” Atsumu whines softly in her ear.

Kiyoomi flips them over and straddles Atsumu’s lap before Atsumu can clock how off kilter that left her. It’s a last ditch attempt of changing the topic, but she takes advantage of the towel Atsumu dropped on their bed and works it through her hair.

She tsks. Atsumu’s a filthy liar; her hair’s absolutely not been dried.

It’s painfully unfair how healthy it is with the way she takes care of her hair. Which is to say, Atsumu does not. Hasn’t even heard of the concept. Kiyoomi hates her a little for it. Atsumu won the genetic lottery with naturally thick hair and she doesn’t even know it.

Kiyoomi doesn’t realize when Atsumu wraps a hand around her waist until she squeezes gently. It’s an Atsumu-thing: fiddling with whatever’s in her hands. Kiyoomi wonders for a moment if there’s anyone else in the fucking world whose lap she could sit so comfortably in.

“Fine,” she sighs.

If Kiyoomi can’t go her whole life closing her eyes to everything she doesn’t like, she can at least hold Atsumu’s hand about it. Acquiescing isn’t so hard if she’s not alone.

“Really?” Atsumu perks up, light dancing in her eyes. Kiyoomi’s just a girl- how could she ever not feel like she’s at the top of the world with Atsumu looking at her like this?

Kiyoomi’s still Kiyoomi though, for better and for worse. She’s not throwing herself into the deep end without an out. “I’m not staying the whole time- you can if you want but I’m going to leave early.”

Atsumu’s got mischief in her eyes and Kiyoomi already know she’s already worked her way under the lines she just drew. “Then let’s go to Samu’s for lunch today.”

What.

Atsumu must read the disgust-slash-confusion off her face because she immediately goes to sell her point. “If ya don’t wanna come to dinner with everyone, we can just crash at her store. What’s she gonna do? Kick two payin’ customers out?

Kiyoomi wants to dig her nails under Atsumu’s skin and rip the smirk off her face. She’s been got and knowing her, Atsumu’s only gonna keep pushing.

They’re too similar for her to not.

She'd rather deal with Osamu without being in front of the rest of Atsumu's family though so Kiyoomi snorts, “You’re on being-a-menace duty.”

“That’s just my everyday babe,” Atsumu winks horribly. She looks ridiculous and Kiyoomi will never tell her that. She keeps her girlfriend’s goofiness close to her heart. It might be an open secret between their friends, but she’s the one who gets to see it everyday.

There’s only threads of hope that today won’t be a shitshow of petty and snide comments between her and Osamu but at least Atsumu can step in before they can go too far. That’s a hope Kiyoomi can count on at the very least.

“Alright, let’s go now.” Kiyoomi abandons her comfortable seat in favour of looting through Atsumu’s clothes for one of her hoodies.

Atsumu groans and flops onto her back dramatically. “Now?”

“Yes now. I don’t want to deal with the lunch rush that’ll come later. Get your lazy ass up.”

“Yer cruel so Omi-Omi,” Atsumu whines as she gets up anyways.

“Are you finally realizing?” Kiyoomi teases. Honestly they’re both horrible. It’s half of why they work.

Atsumu just laughs in her face.

Kiyoomi isn’t suddenly optimistic or anything, but she isn’t dreading going to Onigiri Miya’s as much. She can be mature about this.

[charlythelee]

My 1st piece for the HQ Fantasy BigBang—I had some big time fun with Fem!SakuAtsu and low-key obsessing over their little, domestic vegetable garden 🥕🥖🍎

⇢ Read "Eternal Return" by Hannah on Ao3 (Beta by Alaina) ⇢ More Art

[sakuatsusimp]

It is a well-known fact that both Atsumu and Kiyoomi are mean, and of course they fight a lot. Atsumu always has snarky comments or mean insults at the tip of his tongue ready to be thrown at the other person, but when things go overboard and Atsumu actually gets genuinely hurt or upset he just shuts up and leaves without a word or a second glance at the other person.

So one day, Sakusa and Atsumu have this huge fight. Kiyoomi accidentally says, 'I regret everything', and he /feels/ the mood in the room shift. He watches as Atsumu swallows whatever he had planned to say and just stares at omi. Then he gets up and walks out of the room. He just leaves without a single word.

Now Kiyoomi has never seen Atsumu leave in a middle of a fight. He is scared. He is terrified of what he has done. He actually didn't mean to phrase it that way. Now he was too afraid to even call Atsumu.

That night Atsumu returns late at night. He finds Kiyoomi fast asleep on the table, his head resting on his arms. He looks like he had been waiting for atsumu to come back but fell asleep instead. There was a bouquet of purple hyacinth in front of him. Suddenly he feels omi mumble something. He leans down to listen to what he was saying and hears him mumbling softly "did'nt mean it....'on't hate me, atsu. I love you."

[satoruzlove]

i am certain that being with Sakusa Kiyoomi is a relationship with no gender hole. you both hustle from work, clean, cook, do the laundry, pay for the bills, and spoil each other. above all, both of you respect and understand each other. a genuine love and adoration 💗 a one in a million love story.

my heart's going to explode 🥺

- 🫧

YES MY BB I AGREE!! growing up w sisters he understands that regardless of gender any task can be hard and no one should be doing shit alone. he just wants to care for you and feel appreciated. he values respect shown and not just said WAAAYYY more than some rando saying “ i rly respect you” you know??? LIKE

if you’ve just gotten home from work, and you’re tired , he will never expect you to still cook or some shit. either he does it or orders in. if you try to stop him he’ll kiss the crown of ur head and mutter a ‘rest, my baby’ and that’s it. no argument

if HES tired and you so much as rub his shoulders and run him a bath [ HE LOVES WHEN YOU WASH HIS HAIR BTW!!!!] no amount of words shared can express his appreciation. his gratitude. he shows it by being there for you the same way because you two are a TEAAAAM. his biggest love language is doing and showing, not saying. he’s a silent lover that has his affections seeping out his skin with every breath he takes. he’s soooo full of his love for you.

imo he’s more of a ‘best friends first’ guy. so that’s where the respect really comes from bcus he saw you STRUGGLLLEEE from a friend’s pov and now that he’s with you. that you allowed him to be in your life and help you he’s overwhelmed by his gratitude. his love. only for you ALWAYS

UGHHHHHHH ANONNNNN DONT DO THISSSS TO MEEE

[sweetsakusa]

Love in the Mundane

Sakusa x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: idk

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago so it’s meh but enjoy :)

-

It is 4:12 and the evening sun warms the apartment and Sakusa’s heart. 

It finally peeks through the turbulent clouds, breaking the gloomy day. Though it only appears for a short amount of time, he still marvels how it persists until the end of the day before dipping behind the horizon. 

It reminds him of the warmth of your palm against his and how it’s enough to warm his entire body. He relishes at the way it floods over and causes his heart to swell. Sakusa appreciates that he never has to fear life’s obstacles because you will never let go.

He has come to the epiphany that love does not have to be expressed extravagantly to be love, just how he likes it. He realizes love doesn’t have to be shouted at the top of his lungs atop a cliff; it can be as simple as the way Sakusa remembers how you like your showers hot like the burning pits of hell, the clumsy slow dances in the living room, and failed attempts to make homemade cookies. It can be as simple as a lone flower left from a bouquet he bought from a local florist that sits at the dinner table and while it lasts, adds a little more color to your home. 

Love tells him to repeat the same inside jokes that never fails to choke laughter out of you, the whiff of your body wash that has become his favorite scent, the bored look on your face that lifts when you meet his eyes. 

Love can be as mundane in moments like these where he can’t help but stare, utterly smitten.

It’s a regular Sunday during Osaka’s unkind winter and you’re reading a book on the white leather couch he picked out, eyebrows furrowed in concentration with reading glasses perched on your nose. Love can be simple but never dull with you. He softly hums the song you so passionately sing your heart out to.

You feel his scrutiny burn into your skin and tear your eyes away from the book, eyebrows furrowing even deeper into your nose. “Why are you staring at me?”

His mind is swimming in responses. He could say, ‘because why not?’ but by the inquisitive look written on your face, he knows you demand an explanation. 

“If you keep doing that, you’re going to get wrinkles,” he comments, concentrating as he places a finger at the middle of your forehead and drags it down the bridge before stopping at the tip of your nose. 

You scoff, eyes squinting in a playful glare, creating more wrinkles after he had smoothed them out. “By the looks of it, you’re mocking me.” 

You were both now delving deeper into competition and he wasn’t going to back down just yet. He was still going to put up a fight despite how weak his defenses are against you, porcelain versus stone.

“What makes you think that?” He raises a smug eyebrow. Oh, it’s on.

You cock your head to the side, an eyebrow also raised. “I don’t know. I just have a feeling you’re mimicking me.”

He copies you. “I have a feeling you’re mimicking me too.”

You both stare at each other for a while, too stubborn to lose to each other in the playful rivalry. He examines every slope, curve, and pore on your face and knows he has lost; melting under your gaze because he’s aware how feeble he is against the weapons you have over him. He is all too aware of how you were way too lazy to change out of pajamas this morning. Beautiful.

Subconsciousness tugs a smile at his lips and you immediately catch on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

He smiles a little wider, remnants of the same proud, charmingly boyish look from high school that still tugs your heartstrings and makes your chest clench. “It’s because I’m looking at you,” he playfully teases, but stares with the adoration of a child catching a firefly at dusk. 

You lean in even closer, a wide smirk on your face. “Oh, really?” 

Sakusa is unsure of how much more he can take. His resolve shakes as every thought is pushed out of his head and impulse fills every valley, crevice, nook, and cranny of his mind.

He leans in just centimeters away and gazes how love is etched into your skin, how love makes the apartment feel like home, how love is the most inviting feeling that welcomes him and it comes in the manifestation and personification of you. The way it allows him to enjoy the sentimentality of the mundane and the fragility of featherlight skinship that tickles and lingers, the way it makes him feel he is right where he needs to be, right where he belongs, and grounds him to a steadier flow of time. He knows he is home when he is with you.

The same question that had been kept safely in the depths of his mind is unveiled and now at the tip of his tongue, waiting to pounce.

“Marry me?” he whispers at the crown of your head. There was no going back now.

A low laugh rumbles your chest. Your brain is swirling for an answer as he waits. It is not often that you get to see the dauntless side of him.

“I will,” you say with soft finality. It was only a promise, but it felt fulfilling. 

It is moments like these that drives Sakusa to be impulsive, to tumble off a cliff that causes his mind to swirl mindlessly. Only around you does he find the heart to be bold, to be brave, to bite the bullet. He is reminded by the weight of the ring in his pocket and tells himself to be patient, summoning every ounce of self restraint, where he will officially ask when time is right. He hadn’t even thought of how he was going to ask, but as long as it’s out of love, it doesn’t matter.

He already imagines the ring snug around your finger, proudly wearing the symbol of love and devotion. His heart soars as high as the stars you believe represent the endless possibilities the universe has to offer. He only prays that the long awaited ‘yes’ is within the possible, the one in a lifetime opportunity of slipping the band on the finger next to your pinkie that will indicate you are happily taken, and brings you one step closer to lifelong partnership. With him.

“So you’re in love with me,” you teasingly punch his chest.

Sakusa rolls his eyes, causing a laugh to erupt from you. “I basically just proposed to you and you point it out now?” His voice is laced with impassive sarcasm, but the fond, tender look stays the same, unwavering.

“Which means you can’t get rid of me.”

He pulls you closer to the thrum of his heart. “Fine with me,” he mutters. 

[lemontsumu]

It was a consensus they had set early on.

A simple gesture to shut one up when he rambled more than necessary—a smooch on the lips to beckon him to halt, to take a moment, and to breathe. Contrary to popular belief, Hajime loved listening to his beloved chatter about the most trivial things, so he didn’t use the cue often.

Not when Tooru profoundly criticized Kageyama’s serves in the Brazil Olympics and blatantly denied watching the game more than once (a lie), nor when he mindlessly veered from one misadventure to another with Sebastian and Mira (god knows who they were) in half Japanese and half Spanish, sprinkles of English slang. No, Hajime indulgently paid attention to every word, every roll of tongue, and every prolonged consonant from Tooru’s mouth—smiling ever so fondly when it inevitably puckers to a pout.

The only times Iwaizumi did shush him was when Tooru began to overthink and doubt himself, unwittingly spiralling to needless negativity. Then, Hajime utilized his wildcard, and Tooru would instantly catch up with a hushed, “Hai, hai. I was rambling, wasn’t I? Lo siento, mi amor.”

Hajime would pull him in for another kiss, less rushed and just as tender as the first, until Tooru melted in his arms, basking in his safe warmth.

In some instances, Hajime took Tooru aback, calloused fingers outlining his firm sides and settling on the nub between his nape and his spine; craning Tooru’s face to meet his own and whispering a small, “Hi.”

First, a soft peck on the corner of his mouth, then a gentle nip on his lower lip that made Tooru gasp, easily coaxing Hajime’s tongue in. They’ve been together most of their lives—apart for a while—but intimate moments like these will always feel new yet familiar, special. All at once.

“I wasn’t even talking?” Tooru raised a questioning brow when they parted for a while.

“Hmm? Can’t I kiss mi esposo just because I felt like it?” Hajime asked back as he rubbed circles on Tooru’s slightly puffed cheeks, a tinge of pink on the tip of his ears.

Then, suddenly, another couple entered the room like they owned the space, carefree and giggling; completely unashamed. “Ew,” Kiyoomi teased as he trudged towards the water dispenser in the corner of the kitchen.

“Eeeww,” parroted Atsumu, dramatic as ever, of course. As if Kiyoomi wasn’t giving him a piggyback while he filled his highlighter-hued hydro flask.

“Now can I kick them out of our house?” Tooru rolled his eyes and turned to his husband, lacing their fingers entwined.

Hajime chortled hoarsely and reeled him in one swift motion, not in the least unfazed by the intruders. “Don’t bother, cariño. Just let the children watch.”

And he leaned in to smooch Tooru more fervently, leaving the younger pair in the background wallowing in sweet envy.

[thevinsmokerlaw]

If anyone told Sakusa Kiyoomi of Itachiyama Academy that he would ever be sitting in the grass making flower crowns, he’d immediately call them insane.

Yet here he is, less than 10 years out of his high school career, doing exactly that.

“Dad!” His concentration is broken by that voice he never fails to turn to. “Look what Mom made me!”

Your daughter is running toward him, you trailing behind. He holds his arms out for her, but she doesn’t crash into his chest as she is apt to do. Instead, she holds up a ring of flowers. “Look down!” She demands of her dad.

Omi smiles softly, lowering his head. His daughter crowns him with the flowers - crookedly, off-centered as hell, but with the most adorable smile showing off her dimples. Her curly pigtails make him smiler wider. She settles comfortably in his lap as you take a seat beside them.

If anyone had told him that he’d let a child with dirt all over her dress put a load of grass and flowers on his head, more than voluntarily, he wouldn’t have believed them. He’s come to learn that the mess is just part of being human, so it’s not such a big deal anymore.

Besides, this is his baby girl. Nothing can take that fact away from him.

If they had told him he’d marry someone like you, he would laugh in scorn.

But here, now? This is all he ever wants. Your hair flutters gently in the wind as he watches. You’re so beautiful. Even in the most mundane moments like this, he’s stunned by you.

“Give me your hand?” He fiddles one last time with the flowers in his hand. “I don’t have this specific skill set, so all you get is a ring.”

He starts sliding it on whichever finger will fit when your daughter pipes in: “Dad, you have to say, ‘Will you marry me?’”

Kiyoomi pauses and looks at her. “We’re already married, sweetie.”

“But you can’t put her ring on until you ask!”

Not one to ever deny his daughter’s wishes, Kiyoomi starts again. “____,” he says in a dramatic tone. Shakespearean and overdone, he asks once again, “Will you marry me?”

[oomisluvr]

YOURS, MINE, OURS (I COULD DO THIS FOR HOURS)

SYNOPSIS: kiyoomi sucks at housework and you are absolutely no help.

WARNINGS: none! probably some swearing, but that’s all :’) useless!sakusa, never-learned-now-to-hang-a-photo!sakusa, also the beginning of domestic!sakusa, sfw!

“It’s a little crooked. Tilt the left side up a bit–No! My left, not yours.”

“We’re facing the same direction, love. It’s the same left.”

“Don’t sass me.” You suck your teeth, “You’re the one that asked for my help.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kiyoomi dismisses you, arms still outstretched to successfully level the small frame, “Does this look any better?”

It doesn’t. It's actually worse now.

“Looks fantastic.” You quip helpfully.

With a final huff, Kiyoomi steps back to look at his handiwork, hands braced on his hips like a proud father. Silence weighs heavy between you two. He sighs.

“I’m gonna burn down this entire building.”

“It’s not that bad, babe.”

“This looks awful. I mean, did I put this up during an earthquake? What even happened?”

“It’s an easy fix. 30 minutes max.”

“Tiktok made it look so easy.” He groans, heading for the kitchen, “‘Quick-and-easy home project’, my ass. This whole ordeal has been lengthy and difficult.”

“You’re not gonna fix it?” You ask, a bit shocked. Kiyoomi’s never been the type to abandon a project of any kind.

“I know my limits. It’s tomorrow's problem.” He decides, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and hunting for some cereal. Brown eyes peer into your own, “Do I have you for the weekend or are you going home?”

“I think I’ll stay.“ You hum, watching him pour milk into the small ceramic bowl, “Only if we get breakfast in the morning.”

You’ve been told Kiyoomi’s been less uptight since dating you. More friendly. Open-minded. Willing to try new things. You’ve watched him grow significantly since when you first started seeing him, and you’re secure enough in this relationship to say you’ve loved every version of him. You were friends before you were anything more, and dating him has made your relationship even stronger.

“Done.” He nods, capping the milk, “I’ve been meaning to give you something, by the way.” You watch him rummage through the kitchen drawer, a slight tremor in his movements. Whatever he was searching for lands in your hand with a light toss, the object softly clinking when you catch it. “I want you to have this.”

Unequivocal access to his private space. The key to his house. You blink. 

“A key? You want me to start picking up your mail?”

He rolls his eyes, “What I would like is for you to move in with me, but I figured this is the first step.”

“This is…” You swallow, staring down at the metal as if it were alien, “A very big step.”

“I know. I trust you, though.”

To say you’re shocked in an understatement. Your relationship has been nothing short of amazing, but Kiyoomi’s always valued personal space. You expected this stage to come much further down the road.

“My lease ends in a few months.”

“I know.” You see it now, the nervousness radiating off of him. “Believe it or not, I like having you around.”

Shaking your head, “You’ll get sick of me.”

“Impossible. I adore you.”

“I’m messier than you. I’ll leave my clothes everywhere.”

“Then we’ll just have to do laundry together. You wash and I’ll fold?”

“I can’t cook.”

“Me neither.” He suppresses a grin, “But I trust that we’ll figure it out.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m not going to win this, am I?”

He shakes his head, black curls bouncing effortlessly with the movement, “Nope.”

Your expression softens, “I’ll drive you crazy.”

He hums, dipping down to press his lips to yours, “You already do.”

Jumpcut to all the pictures falling off the wall and shattering because Kiyoomi has no life skills :D

THANKS FOR READING!!

[flyingwargle]

sakusa emerges from the bathroom in a curtain of steam, towel wrapped around his neck, hair still damp. dressed in old sweats, he slips his feet into the slippers left against the wall, and shuffles down the hallway, head raised at the sight of his partner sitting at the dining room table, engrossed in his nail care.

the apartment, usually comparable to a nightclub with how loud atsumu prefers his music, is quiet. all sakusa can hear is the file running over his nail, with occasional pauses for an inspection before resuming. most things that atsumu does related to volleyball, sakusa noticed, is done in silence. from silencing the crowd when he serves, practicing tosses to the tune of squeaky court shoes and bouncing balls, even doing cardio and weights to the rhythm of his own breath. there are few things that he devotes his undivided attention to, and sakusa is simply glad that he is one of them.

"hey."

he looks up, startled. atsumu has lowered his nail file to gesture at him. "c'mere. lemme do your nails."

“i think they’re fine.” sakusa isn’t as meticulous, but he gives them a trim once a week.

“they’re too long fer my standards. i don’t want ya to chip ‘em.”

he acquiesces and sits across from him, waiting for atsumu to wipe the table down before he places his hands on top. atsumu is gentle as he grasps his right hand, cradles it in his own, and runs his file over the nail.

a comfortable silence blankets them. sakusa, unsure if talking is allowed, settles with watching. his partner's eyes are narrowed, brows furrowed together, lips pressed into the tiniest pout. it’s a familiar expression, often seen at their favorite ramen joint as he contemplates between tonkotsu or shio, juggles between two brands of seaweed to save money or indulge, flip-flops between his playlists to determine the mood. sakusa suppresses a smile, endeared by his level of dedication.

“whatcha smilin’ at?”

atsumu looks up at him. of course he noticed. sakusa replies, “you.”

“what, i got somethin’ on my face?”

“you enjoy this.”

it’s not an accusation; just a mere fact. atsumu returns his eyes back to sakusa’s nails, having moved onto his index finger. “’samu never remembered to cut his nails. durin’ a match, he was blockin’ the other team an’ they got a wipe off ‘im. it hit his finger at a bad angle, an’ it broke his nail. he couldn’t play for a week.” his chuckle is light, full of goading but love. “after that, every time he saw me do my nails, he asked me to do his, too.”

sakusa can imagine it: the twins, perhaps positioned similarly as they are now, running a file over each finger, rough but tender, grumbling and protesting the entire time.

“ya wanna know who was up in my face about carin’ fer my nails? my ma.” atsumu’s fingers are rough against his, as most volleyball players’, but he runs the file gently, with slow, rhythmic movements. “i used ta feel bad that she got two boys instead of a girl. she didn’t have a daughter to dress up or paint her nails.”

he releases his hand, reaches for the other. sakusa remains still, lets him take hold, adjust his hand as needed, and continue. “if it weren’t fer volleyball, i woulda let her paint mine. she never got the chance, though, since we started playin’ in elementary school, an’ now, i still play, and ‘samu can’t ‘cause of work. well, not that he woulda let her paint his nails, anyway.” he pauses, eyes raised toward the distance. sakusa recognizes the expression well: nostalgic, edged with bittersweet longing. “instead, she was always on my case ‘bout keepin’ my fingers in good condition, ‘cause they’re what makes a setter.”

sakusa doesn’t respond, overwhelmed by the memories of all the tosses that atsumu made, often deemed impossible until they weren’t, becoming tosses that allowed his hitters to score. he never falls short of delivering the best, and he expects his hitters to reciprocate.

“there. don’t they look better?”

at his voice, sakusa blinks, glancing down at his hands, the sliver of nail on each finger uniformly shaped and filed. atsumu starts to clean up, retrieving another wet wipe, when sakusa speaks up. “motoya and i used to paint our toenails. he has an older sister, so he’d steal her nail polish. we used to paint them before games.”

“really? didn’t expect ya to be interested in polish. aren’t there a buncha nasty chemicals in ‘em?”

“yeah. motoya couldn’t convince me until high school, and even then, he had to buy a brand that i deemed safe.” sakusa draws in a breath. “i still remember what it is, if you want to try it.”

atsumu hums. “only if ya paint yers with me.”

“sure. it’d be fun.”

“never thought i’d hear ya call somethin’ like this fun.”

sakusa rolls his eyes. “i didn’t hate it when we did it before. no one would see it, anyway, except for us.”

“like it’s our dirty little secret,” atsumu replies with a wink. he laughs when sakusa reaches over to shove his shoulder. “not dirty! a fun, ‘lil secret. ooh, we can get our team colors!”

while he finishes cleaning, sakusa fetches his laptop from his room to look up the nail polish brand and find their website. atsumu joins him a moment later, and by the end of the night, they’ve placed an order for several different colors. as they head to bed, sakusa places a hand on atsumu’s shoulder. “in return, can you do my nails next week?”

“anything fer ya, omi.” and sakusa knows that he means it.

[heartmaddie]

dusk 'til dawn ! tsukishima kei , akaashi keiji , azumane asahi , hinata shoyo , ushijima wakatoshi , kiyoomi sakusa incl ; post time-skip , fluff , fem! reader note ; thank u to garfield & the anon who requested this ! synopsis ; a small collection of domestic drabbles including the haikyuu! men

07:21 ! tsukishima kei

the flat was always unreasonably cold in the mornings.

she curled up under the thin linen sheets as she stirred awake, uncomfortable from the freezing gust of wind and rain which had just blown through their window. after she let out a groggy, tired sigh, yn looked to her right, gazing at the restful boy who had a peculiar serenity displayed on his face. a small content smile was found on her lips, he was utterly captivating.

she watched with a tender expression as kei stirred awake, he groaned quietly as he stretched out his tense muscles before rolling over to face her. the rain gently patted against their rooftop as y/n felt his warm arms pull her into his warm chest as he nuzzled his nose into the soft strands of her hair.

“morning..” he mumbled quietly, the exhaustion evident in his voice as he yawned, “what time is it?”

“seven something?” she hummed wearily in response, rubbing her face against his neck and soaking up as much warmth as she possibly could. “need to get ready for work soon..” 

he let out a quiet groan out of distaste, holding her even tighter as a silent protest.

“it’s cold, i don’t wanna get out of bed..” tsukishima was always a bit of a sulker in the morning, and yn couldn’t help but chuckle as she looked up at him with an affectionate gaze. “let’s just stay here for a little bit longer, mkay?” he murmured sleepily, pressing a chaste kiss against the skin of her temple.

“hm, fine..” she sighed dramatically, but was secretly overjoyed by his uncommon display of affection.

yn let him shift downwards to rest his golden locks against her chest, her fingers intertwining with each strand. her gaze followed him as his eyes started to shut once again, falling into the temptation of sleep in the comfort of her envelope.

9:53 ! akaashi keiji

“i can always cancel my meeting, i don’t want you to be alone when you’re unwell.” he hummed quietly, voice a blur to her ringing ears. keiji always had nurturing tendencies, but that was amplified to the max when she was sick. he brushed his rough fingertips over the skin of her forehead, moving any hair from her face.

“no, it’s okay,” she was so congested, it was evident on her tongue from every word she’d utter. “you should go to work,” her gaze was ever so soft as she admired his furrowed eyebrows and worried expression, her fingers rested on top of his hand, offering him a sliver of comfort, confirming that she’d be okay alone.

“are you sure?” his forehead creased and she let out a soft giggle as she brought her soft hand to rub the wrinkles away.

“you’ll look old if you keep on frowning like that..” she hummed, lips twisted upwards as she looked up at him.

“you just make me worry.” he huffed as he pressed a soft kiss to her supple cheek, “i’ll bring you home some medicine, make sure to rest up.” keiji rested his forehead against hers, potentially breathing in the bacteria of her illness, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

keiji let out a soft sigh as he slid into the bed next to her. he rested his arms around her waist, bringing her into the warmth of his chest. 

“you’ll be late..” her droopy eyes and flushed nose was trained on him, he felt his heart patter a little bit faster as a small amount of blood rushed to his cheeks.

“they’ll live, i’m more concerned about you right now.” his fingers pulled her hair back into a ponytail, settling the loose strands on her shoulder, “i’ll leave once you’re asleep.” he whispered, bringing his lips to her cheek.

she nodded, smiling up at him before resting her eyes and curling against the pillow. akaashi couldn’t help but run his fingers up and down the expanse of her arm, an attempt to lull her to sleep before he carefully slipped out of bed and turned the lights off, offering her a soft kiss before leaving the house.

12:27 ! azumane asahi

days with him were always tender.

she brushed his hair carefully as he worked on some early sketches of potential collections. his thick fingers were dusted with graphite and blisters as they brushed over the paper below him. their apartment was strewn with loose drawings and photographs, it was an organised mess, but somehow still cozy.

“you’d look nice in this piece actually, i’ll size one for you later.” he muses, holding up the thin sheet of paper up for her to see.

“i like the square neckline, what fabric will you use?” she asked curiously, peering down at the paper through blue light glasses. her fingers ran through his velvet-like strands of hair.

“don’t know, silk maybe?” he glanced up at her, eyes impossibly soft as he smiled gently. “what do you think?”

“i’m not the designer here..” she mumbled jokingly, kissing the nape of his neck before slumping down on the couch next to him. “you shouldn’t slouch, why don’t you work at your desk instead of at the coffee table?”

“lighting’s better here.” his eyes were drawn to her, he couldn’t help but reach out for her hand and gently caress her soft fingers, so unlike his. “and besides, that room is miserable, i prefer staying out here with you.” he admitted, taking a sip from the steaming mug.

“clingy,” she leaned her head on his shoulder, watching as he sketched. his face was brightened by the sun shining down on him, and her heart swelled ever so softly as she gazed up at him. “i think i prefer the new conditioner i bought. my hair feels a bit more silky now.”

“yeah, it looks good.” he glances over at her, eyes still impossibly soft before he checked the time, “it’s almost 12:30, should we prepare lunch?”

she nodded in response, taking his hand as he pulled her off the couch and into his embrace, whispering a sweet nothing into her ear before they continued to their kitchen.

15:05 ! hinata shoyo

shoyo was always exhausted after practice, the last thing on his mind was his normal exuberant personality.

he had a serene smile on his face as she applied thick layers of aloe vera gel onto his skin. there was nothing that he enjoyed more than these tranquil, everyday moments with her. the sun would set a lot earlier during the winter, and he was grateful that he’d be able to utilise a couple more hours with her in their shared apartment during the off season.

“you should come watch my practices” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically soft as he brushed his fingers through his orange hair, “can you apply some to my back, it’s a bit itchy still..” he lifted up the back of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular back.

“maybe next time, yeah?” her free hand ruffled through his messy hair, letting him melt into her arms. she leaned her head on his shoulder, inhaling his musk of seawater and sunshine. he leaned against the headboard of their bed with a groan, tense thighs and calves relaxing after an excruciating day.

he reached out and pulled her into his arms, pressing multiple kisses against her cheeks & neck, ignoring her relentless giggles. 

“stop sho- that tickles!” she smiled up at him with her eyes creased, and his heart warmed immensely.

“don’t wanna..” he nuzzled against her neck, letting a huff out as his body relaxed on top of hers. “let me practice something.” he’d beg her for this exact thing everyday without fail.

minutes later, the two of them were situated on the ground, hinata grasping onto three chunks of hair which he eagerly tried to braid with. she hummed gently as they conversed about their day, her head occasionally turning towards his and pressing soft, sweet kisses against his chapped lips, receiving flustered, almost awkward giggles in return.

18:55 ! ushijima wakatoshi

his favourite pastime was watching her get ready for bed.

he found it holistic, almost reverent how she’d change into matching pajamas or how on sundays she’d spend a half hour extra in their bathroom. it was so peculiar to him, he’d never seen something like this before.

but he particularly liked standing behind her, leaning against the wall of their bathroom as she meticulously went through each step of her skincare routine, applying miscellaneous gels and creams onto her face which he couldn’t even bear to fathom. she had a little collection of products which she’d use on the daily, ones he had spent a small fortune on, afterall, but they surely did work. there was a soft glow which radiated from her face after she’d finished her routine, a small aspect of her appearance he’d grown to not just love, but appreciate.

sometimes, if he was lucky that night, she’d even let him massage her exfoliating cleanser for her. he found that the grains felt relaxing on his fingertips, but he found the way she’d look up at him with closed eyes utterly endearing, he couldn’t help but let his heart melt and pulse faster then. 

wakatoshi was the epitome of care when it came to her, he wouldn’t dare ruin that half hour she’d set aside for herself every night. but occasionally he’d wrap his arms around her from behind, pressing gentle osculates against her nape as she’d apply her topical creams, he couldn’t help himself.

he’d let out a small smile every time, rubbing his thick fingers into her waist as he watched in awe, he was absolutely infatuated with her. & once she had washed her hands and untied her hair, he was the one to be gracefully pulling her towards the bed and tucking her under the sheets.

21:12 ! kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi hated coming home late, but he surely didn’t mind the sight of her wrapped up in their sheets.

the moon shone down on their apartment, the city still bustling as he carefully walked through, not wanting to make a noise. his back was unbearably tense, muscles screaming in agony as he opened the door to their bedroom, almost immediately soothed once he laid eyes upon his partner in a deep state of tranquil in the lonesome of their bed. his heart swelled.

once he’d stripped himself of his sweaty clothes and basked under the warm cascade of their shower, he pulled a black shirt over his head and found a pair of pajama pants to wear, ones which had been the ones to match hers, coincidentally. he brushed his teeth and washed his face, but his heart would beat ever so quicker whenever his eyes would land on her, he found her even more stunning under the moon’s blue light.

before sliding into the bed, he’d gently pressed soft kisses against the skin of her forehead, smiling to himself as he brushed every strand of stray hair away from her face. he was devout when it came to her, with methodical touches was he only able to bring her into his embrace - he was always cold, and she was the only thing able to warm him.

finally, his eyes could close, he was absolutely exhausted. his head nuzzled against her scalp, inhaling the scent of clean, honey fragranced hair. he could rest in this familiarity. with a groan, his arms tightened around her impossibly, but still careful as to not wake her up. sakusa melted into the mattress, letting out tired groans and occasional stirs as he found himself falling asleep.

it still surprised him how easily he could fall asleep now, compared to when he was younger and all alone. 

please like , reblog or follow if you enjoyed :p © heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work

[whisperofwonder]

Domesticity (Evening Edition)

―Just some small, random evening moments.

Featuring: Bokuto Koutarou, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Akaashi Keiji x reader

Note: you have a daughter in Sakusa's

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

You skim the shelf for a few moments, then reach for a familiar looking package. It seems like every time you shop, there are more new varieties. It makes it difficult to keep track. "These are the ones you liked, right?" You ask, giving the box of protein bars a slight shake. There's no answer.

"Kou?" You look around, but your boyfriend is nowhere in sight. You bite back a sigh and toss the box in the cart anyway. If he can't stick around long enough to choose, he'll get what he gets. Pushing the cart along, you glance down the next few aisles. There's still no sign of him. Where would he have even wandered off to?

Just as you reach for your phone to send him a text, you feel a hand come to rest on the small of your back, and Koutarou is leaning around you to deposit something in the cart.

"Where did you go?" You ask with a frown as he sneaks his arms around you, slipping his hands into the front pocket of your oversized Jackals hoodie. "Koutarou," You add sternly as you can feel the warm press of his hands through the soft material. "We're in public."

Despite your warning, he doesn't make any move to pull away. "Just went to grab some apples," He says, hanging his chin over your shoulder. "You said this morning that we needed more, and I realized we were already past the produce, so I went back to get some."

You should really stand your ground and pull away, but you can't help it. There's no one around you to see the sudden closeness, and he was right about the apples. The warm press of his chest against your back is familiar and reassuring.

"Thanks for remembering," You say softly instead, reaching up to rest your hand on his cheek for a few moments.

"'Course," He nuzzles his other cheek against yours.

"Alright," You finally say, stepping away after savoring the moment for just a little while longer. You can hear the sound of another shopper's cart turning the corner. "Let's finish up so we can get home."

"And cuddle before bed?" He asks hopefully.

You can't help but smile. "I don't see why not."

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

You've just pulled out a onesie and are reaching for a clean diaper when you hear Kiyoomi enter the room behind you. You'd spent the last 15 minutes tidying up your daughter's room while he gave her a bath.

You turn with a smile to greet them, and a snort of laughter sneaks out before you can stop it. Your husband's t-shirt is soaked from the chest up, and there are water droplets slipping from his curls. Your daughter is babbling happily from beneath the hood of her ducky towel, oblivious to the less-than-pleased expression on her father's face.

"Oh, wow. Miyu one, Daddy zero, huh?" You ask, successfully holding back any further laughter.

"I don't think you can win bath time." He hands her over to you and mops a few drops of water from his cheek with the towel he'd slung around his neck. You lay her down and start putting on her diaper.

"Maybe not," You agree with a twitch of your lips, "But from the looks of it, you can certainly lose." He opens his mouth, then closes it with a shake of his head.

"Well, she had fun, anyway." He finally says, the slightest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Right?" He asks, expression softening as he leans over to give her pudgy cheek a gentle pinch. She grins up at him, showing off her two and a half teeth, and he rests his hand on the top of her still-damp, downy curls.

"You're such a little stinker," He adds in the softest tone, never mind your heart that already feels fit to burst. You snap the last button on the onesie, picking her up and pressing a kiss to her irresistibly soft, freshly-washed cheek. Between the warm bath and the evident fun she'd had playing in it, she's already half asleep.

"Someone's ready for bed," You croon, then turn to him. "Go ahead and get changed. I'll put her down and be right out."

"Okay," He hums, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Goodnight, sweetheart," He murmurs, "I love you so much." He turns his head just enough to give you a tender kiss before he pulls away. "I love you," He adds.

"I love you too," You say softly, taking just a moment to run a hand affectionately through his damp hair before turning to put your daughter to bed.

AKAASHI KEIJI

"My love," you're woken by a soft whisper and the gentle squeeze of a hand on your thigh. "We're home."

Blearily, you turn to see Keiji in the driver's seat, and realize the car is parked in the driveway. That's funny - the last thing you knew, you were just pulling onto the highway. He's looking at you so intently that you almost feel the need to duck your head.

"Sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep," You eke out, rubbing your eyes in an effort to wake yourself up.

"It was a long day," He hums, the hand still resting on your thigh giving it another gentle squeeze. "So let's get inside and get to bed." It doesn't take much more prompting for you to follow him into the house.

You fight the warm sleepiness pulling at you long enough to change into your pajamas and brush your teeth, finally reaching for the covers when Keiji stops you. "Did you wash your face?" He asks, and you groan.

"I'll do it in the morning," You promise, turning down the covers.

"Come on," He says, reaching for your hand and gently guiding you back into the bathroom. "You'll feel better if you do it now. Here," He pats the closed toilet lid, and you obediently sink down onto it as he puts some of your cleanser on a cotton pad. His fingertips tilt your chin upwards, and you let your eyes slide closed as he begins swiping the soft pad across your face.

"Don't fall asleep," You hear him prompt as he works. You manage a hum to assure him that you won't, as relaxing as this is. Finally, you feel the press of lips on your forehead.

"All done," He says, and you open your eyes. The look on his face is so warm and gentle that something bubbles up in your chest.

"Thanks, Keiji," You say, tugging on his t-shirt until his lips meet yours. "Love you," You add against his lips.

"I love you too," He cups your cheek briefly with a soft smile. "Now, weren't you the one who was so eager to get to bed?"

You haven't forgotten. In mere moments, you're snuggled up against his chest under the covers. There's no place else you'd rather be.

[ladybyakuya]

| SIDE EFFECTS + SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

+cw. — fem!reader, established relationship, ( domestic ) fluff, love & comfort, slight angst, mature language, atsumu being atsumu, mention of hinata and bokuto. beta-read by my beloved ray.

+wc. — 1.2k 

+syn.—  Sakusa has gotten used to you pretty quick ever since he started living with you but now that he has known the bliss, he does not want to go back to living alone.

+notes. — this is for flufftober ‘fond moments’ collab event for a prompt: quality time hosted by @spookuna. mdni cuz im eighteen plus blog.| redirect to blog navigation. & tagging @tetzoro for poking my pineal glad with a question that became a inspo for this <3

For almost a month, Kiyoomi has had an odd extension of routine that starts after his matches. It starts with going straight home ( to you ), and eating the dishes you made for him which was suggested by a dietitian of course! and then wait at least one hour before hitting the shower, and that too, a cold one since right after he is done drying himself he jumps into bed just to hold you amongst his chest like a hot bag; this . . .this particular moment is what he has been looking forward to for months and now it has finally become a part of his life, and if things do not go south then it might just last for the rest of his life. Just barely thinking of it gets him wide awake. If life was a sleepless dream, then he would not mind sleeping forever at the end of it with you.

Today, however, everything turned upside down. He came home a little late, just a little; ate silently without talking much. Generally, he turns into a yapper right when he sees you. He has so much to talk about yet even with all that bubbling enthusiasm he still does not forget to ask, “Babe, how was your day?”, “Aw, babe that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”, “What? Need me to scare the manager? Because I can.” he says while flexing his muscles wearing nothing but a towel around his torso but you know he won’t do that since he has the confidence that you can handle anything all by yourself. After all, you scared the shit out of Miya when you first met him and he will not accept but, indeed, Miya is not easily scared, especially by girls. However, this evening his responses were full of— “umm.” and “umhm” — nods and sneaking glances. The Kiyoomi that is reserved for the world has come home to you today. 

And that one-hour gap, between his dinner and shower, which is generally filled with listening to you as you roam around the house and work and he follows you like a puppy is filled with frequent calls, messages, and screen time today. It sure makes you worry if not disappointed or angry. It has been a month since you two started living together, so this one hour has always been filled with making this small apartment a place that you both could call “home.” Things were slowly falling into place, turning this place into a home. You were happy, and Kiyoomi? He was the happiest man in the world. 

However, crest-fallen.

Sakusa came out of the bathroom freshly showered when you were folding his clothes. Now that he can see your back properly without any thoughts lingering in his mind you look tired, sad, and perhaps. . . a little annoyed. Maybe it is not a good time to tell you the news after all but what else he can do, he does not have much time left either. He tip-toes his way towards you, slowly.

“C’mon out with it, omi. What’s up?” You say and turn towards him with a bunch of his clothes in your hand only to face a half-naked Sakusa, a pink towel wrapped around his torso, his hands in the air branching out in a form of embrace. You chuckle as you walk off to his closet but his stance remains intact just his head following you; 

his jaw drops as he enquires with utmost curiosity, “How do you always know?” which earns him just an endearing glance from you. You keep the stack of his clothes on the shelf, one by one as he finally says what has been bothering him. “I have to move out. . .to Osaka.” You had to pause before keeping the last t-shirt on the stack of clothes. Your hand is still on the edge of the closet wooden frame since you know the moment you close it— is the moment you have to face such a warped reality where you would be alone in this newly bought apartment, with no omi to wait for, cook for, or take care of. . . 

As if he could read your thoughts he mumbles sharply. “Babe, turn around.” He must be still in that pink towel. The air conditioner is on but it seems that he does not mind the cold today. You slowly turn around closing the cupboard with your hands at the back biting your lower lip in anticipation thinking if Kiyoomi had to tell you about moving out to you, then he must have tried all the possibilities of either staying here with you or taking you with him yet none of them must have worked because if it had, you two would not be standing so apart like two curtains drawn apart. 

“Oh dear God,” Kiyoomi groans as he clutches your wrist pulling you into himself. He makes you sit on the edge of the bed while he sits on the floor, legs folded keeping his head on your lap as he draws lazy patterns on the side of your thighs with both hands, simultaneously. “I never thought I’d fall in love even though I’ve planned it in my notebook ever since I was a kid.” He turns his head up, “Now that my love is here I want to keep it, safe, forever.” The water from his hair has left spots on your long tee. You run your nails through his scalp and he lets out a low even groan saying, “So, I took a week off to spend time with you and of course to get the packing done.” He has to rake his eyes open since the exhaustion blended with being sleepy along with your tender touch is too tempting not to give in.

“What?” You ask, surprised. “You did it for me?”

“Yeah. ‘course. Why wouldn’t I?”

A black pup tip-toes its way into the room and both of you watch it walk till it halts right at your feet wagging its tail, tongue hanging out of its mouth. Both of you look at each other, and then a familiar voice turns up, “We’re here love birds.” Sakusa rolls his eyes before turning around and grabbing your bathrobe to wrap himself up probably because now his senses are back enough to let him know how chill the temperature of the room is. You put your palms over your cheeks, it has become warm again, as you look at the pup. 

Just when you crouched down to pat the pup, Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto followed into your shared bedroom. 

“So, what’re you gonna name him?” Miya asks with a big grin plastering on his face.

“Kiyo!”

“Heyyyyy.” Naturally, Sakusa protests. Bokuto and Hinata share a look holding back their laughter. 

“Well, I call you Omi when I need something from you, or when I’m angry with you and I call you Mr. sakusa when we—you struggle to put your thoughts out in words so Atsumu interjects. 

“ —fuck.” He is still grinning. What’s he so happy about?

“Yeah. that.” you point at him while keeping your eyes still on Kiyoomi. “So, I don’t see a problem calling him Kiyo.”