#sakusa kiyoomi fluff

Sakusa’s Best Gift

: fluff, domestic, dad!sakusa, dad!sakusa

a/n: happy birthday to my mans!! ❤️

Sakusa sighs heavily as he slings the bag over his shoulder. He glances at his watch and frowns. It’s 30 minutes after 10PM. He only has an hour and a half left to celebrate his birthday. If it wasn’t for the damn training that took over his whole day, he would have spent his day with you and your daughter.

Sakusa never even liked celebrating, but your daughter was so excited about his birthday. She rambled all night about how she would make it the happiest birthday of his life. She even planned a surprise for him, which he knows all about, because the child wasn’t particularly good at whispering and keeping secrets.

Sakusa knows about the cake your daughter iced herself. He knows about the dried peaches that she made for him. He knows about the card she wrote for him. But her plans are all ruined because of a training he could have skipped, but he didn’t want to. He regrets making that choice.

After a quick drive to your house, Sakusa checks the time before getting out of his car. A little over 11PM. It’s still his birthday. He silently wishes that you are still awake so at least he can spend the remaining time of his day with you. He enters the house and sees how dark the hallway is, the only light provided is the one from the kitchen.

“They must be asleep…” Sakusa frowns. He stalks to your room and finds your sleeping figure tucked under the bed. He drops his bag on the floor quietly before sitting on the foam. He pulls his mask down and plants a kiss on your forehead, mouthing a soft ‘I love you.’

The athlete changes into his pajamas and just when he’s about to join you in bed, the door opens.

“Papa?” A small voice speaks and the door opens wider. Sakusa smiles at sight. His little girl in a black Jackal pajama set, that was specially made for her given by the team. Her small hand rubs on her eye, the other clutching on her her fuzzy blanket.

Sakusa walks over to her and tries to pick her up, but she avoids his hold and gets out of the room. He follows after her small figure. “Hey, baby. Why are you still awake?”

She goes to the kitchen and pulls the fridge handle with all her might, the blanket pooling on her ankles. Sakusa watches her in confusion and amusement. The refrigerator door finally opens and she points at a box. She looks up to him with dog eyes. “Papa, help…”

“Oh, sorry,” Sakusa chuckles. He was so amused of her actions he forgot to help her. He takes the box from her and places it on the dining table. “What’s this?”

“Don’t open it yet!” Your daughter scolds. She runs out of the kitchen and ventures back to her room. Not long after, the small girl comes back quickly with a big box in her arms. She checks on the digital wall clock and sighs in relief.

“What’s that?” Sakusa asks her and she climbs on the dining chair, the box she was bringing now on the table.

“Happy birthday, papa!” She cheers, taking the lid off the first box. There’s a cake inside covered by pink icing and topped by sliced peaches, a lot of sprinkles too. “I love you!”

Sakusa hugs her tightly, lowering his body to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, baby. I love you too.”

“I waited for you to come home!” She proudly tells him, hugging him back. “I made you a gift! Open it! Open it!” He opens the gift as she says. It’s a scrapbook with a bracelet that he can tell she made herself from the mismatched beads. There’s also a bottle of alcohol that is designed with car and rainbow stickers. A

“I like it. Thank you.” He smiles at her, and she returns the favor, flashing her small pearly teeth at Sakusa. “Let’s go to sleep. It’s late.”

“No! No! It’s still your birthday. We have to celebrate it until that clock turns 1 and 2!” His daughter argues, pointing at the clock.

“We can celebrate it tomorrow.” He picks her up from the chair despite her whines, but she eventually gives in to her sleepiness. As the father and daughter reach your shared bedroom, she’s already fast asleep, too fast for someone who was jumping like a bunny a few seconds ago.

“Omi?” You sit up from the bed, hand slowly rubbing on your eye. Sakusa can not help but smile. You and your daughter act way too much similarly. No wonder why he loves her the way he loves you.

Sakusa lays your daughter in the middle of the bed before slowly pushing your should back down to the bed. “Go back sleep.”

“But your birthd-”

“Shh… no wonder why our daughter is so excited about my birthday. We can celebrate it tomorrow.” He pecks you on your lips and you nod, wrapping your arms around your child before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep.

After making sure that the two of you are asleep, Sakusa gets out of the room to put back the boxes on the table back to its proper places. He puts the cake box back into the fridge first, after snapping a photo of course. He would never forget to take a picture of his daughter’s masterpiece.

Out of curiosity, Sakusa picks up the scrapbook and flips through it. It’s just pictures of him when he was a child up to now. He takes a mental note to call his mother, because other than her who else would give you access to such embarrassing pictures? He stops on a page, seeing his baby picture with his parents, and a small note you wrote at the side.

Don’t forget to thank your parents for giving life to you. Because I surely am thankful to them for giving birth to you. ❤️

Sakusa lets out a snicker. “So cheesy.” He smiles at your note nonetheless. On the next page was him as a baby and your daughter months after her birth. The resemblance is uncanny. She surely is her daughter. He laughs at your written note at the side.

I carry her for nine months and go through so much pain to push her out, but she still ended up looking like you! That’s so unfair! But it’s okay as well. At least I get to see a little you everyday.

He stops on a page with a picture of only the two of you back in high school. Sakusa is sure that the picture was taken during his 18th birthday. In the photo, he was holding on to a cake you baked, while you were hugging him by the waist. He never understood what was so happy about birthdays until that day. He doesn’t forget to read the note.

Your first birthday that we spent together. Komori and I had a hard time planning it because you didn’t want to celebrate it, but we know you had a great time that day. And we did it for the first time that day

Sakusa chokes at his own saliva after reading the last sentence. He clears his throat and continues to skim through the book. At the very last page is a picture of the three of you together. It’s a simple picture but it’s Sakusa’s favorite. The three of you were in bed, your daughter’s arms wrapped around his neck, while you are seated between his legs. One of his hands was on your growing belly, and the other is on the back of your daughter’s back. The note on the side undoubtedly makes his heart swell in happiness and his lips curl into a big smile.

Thank you for being born in this world.

And below your handwriting is your daughter’s.

We love you so much.

Before the clock strikes 12, he opens his phone and posts a picture of you and your daughter in his Instagram, his first ever post in his account. He’s a private person, but everyone deserves to see the two of you— the best gift ever given to him.

just thought about husband! sakusa kiyoomi who sees you gushing over these people on your social media who have the body-tight sleeveless turtleneck top on and he cannot tolerate it no longer.

so what does he do?

husband! sakusa kiyoomi asks the coach— thefucking coach— if he could change jerseys. not the number, not the colour, no. he wants to change those lousy and plain jersey shirts into those body tight sleeveless turtlenecks. and who is the coach to say no? so he does ask sakusa asks.

he never told you about it, of course he didn’t. he just waited until they came and he‘d wear them to the match and you‘d drool over him. he‘ll watch you rock your shit and try to keep yourself sane, try to stop everyone else from taking him and keeping him for yourself.

cut to a few days later husband! sakusa kiyoomi gets his jerseys in the changing room of the court. but when he tries them on he realizes it‘s a bit small—actually not a bit— it‘s a whole ass number size smaller.

instead of it being comfortably tight, it‘s just tight as shit. his abs are framed, you can make out the veins of his body, make out his spine, hell even see the way his nipples protrude against the fabric.

he gets flustered. fucking hell, he thinks. what is be going to do now? there’s no more time to change, the game is literally about to fucking start! oh well, yolo, is something he learned from you and he never thought he‘d be using that ever. yet look at him right now.

but he signed up for it. so like a real man, he sucks it up and goes out there with his muscles bulging. and as soon as he stands there in the starting line he can feel everyones— literally everybody’s— eyes on him. but he does not mind them, instead he looks for you and meets his onyx hues with yours. his eyes meet yours and he can see how you‘re licking your lips as you smirk, trying to keep yourself sane as you wear his old jersey that he told you to wear.

when the game starts, what you did not expect was to see was when he jumped to smash the ball to the ground is the way his jersey bailed out on him halfway, exposing his perfectly made abs. everyone swooned, yelled, some howled. literally. and you were no exception, but of course you did so with some class, keeping it together as you recite your twentieth prayer to the gods.

and by the time the game was done you could bet to hell everyone wasn’t even talking about how they won, they were all talking about how pro-athlete sakusa kiyoomi‘s abs make an appearance on the court!

however, before they could even ask about it sakusa kiyoomi was whisked away by none other than you. quickly driving him home and putting yourself on the menu for his congratulatory dinner.

and when the next day came, sakusa had once again showed up with that same body tight sleeveless turtleneck in white instead of black. not because he wanted everyone to savour his figure, but because something had to cover the amount of hickies you placed on him.