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Just a short drabble - short, sweet and smutty Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Warning: smut; fluff . Only very few have ever seen Sakusa Kiyoomi’s teeth.
Haters will say he’s got a mouthful of crooked teeth. That’s why he’s always hiding behind a mask or has resting-asshole-face.
Little do they know…
Sakusa Kiyoomi has the straightest and whitest teeth.
Any dentist would beg to ask him to be their model for their clinic.
Throughout your three-year relationship, you possess only a small collection of photographs capturing those rare split-second instances when Kiyoomi flashes a smile, showcasing his teeth. However, these precious images remain exclusively for your eyes, as you have chosen to keep them private.
You had set a particular photo as your lock screen, and during a romantic couple’s getaway, your girlfriend momentarily caught a glimpse of it. To your surprise, she gasped, her voice filled with suspicion, “are you… cheating Y/n?”
The accusation caught you off guard, and a frown formed on your face as you responded firmly, “no.” The question offended you; you took your relationship with Kiyoomi seriously and would never entertain the thought of cheating on him. Ever.
“Then who is that man on your lock screen? That’s not Sakusa-kun.”
Your head cocked to the side. “What?” And then it hit you; they have never seen your boyfriend smile with teeth. “It’s… no, I’m not cheating.”
She wasn’t convinced. “Cheating is bad, Y/n.”
You burst out laughing, “I’m not cheating, I promise.”
Fortunately, she let the matter go, ultimately placing her trust in you and believing you were faithful to your boyfriend.
Later that night, you muffle your moan with one hand as Kiyoomi slams his hips into yours. He knows you love it when he stuffs your pussy with his entire cock. He finds it as exhilarating as you do to hear the lewd sounds of skin slapping and echoing in the whole room.
His strong arms hook behind your knees, and he presses them into the futon. With your flexibility built up from doing yoga for years, Kiyoomi loved bending you in all ways possible to feel deeper and closer to you.
“What’s wrong?” His chest is pressed against yours. “You’ve been quiet all evening after dinner with your girlfriend.”
You thread your hand through his curls before locking your arms around his neck and shoulder, “Ina saw my lock screen, and it’s a picture of you and me, and she didn’t recognize you. She thinks I’m cheating on you.”
Kiyoomi frown; hips stop pounding into you. “What picture?”
You reach over to grab your phone, showing him the picture on your screen.
As he caught sight of the photo, he burst into laughter, recalling the time you had jokingly mentioned how he seemed like a different person when he smiled with his teeth. Teasingly, he asked, “but are you cheating on me, though?” He rolled his hips in a slow deep thrust, making you moan.
You pull him down for a kiss, “I suppose I’m cheating on you with smiling Omi.”
Kiyoomi flashed one of his smiles with teeth and dimples – one that he knows always makes your heart flip. And pussy clenching.
.
The following day, Ina’s eyes narrowed at the fresh red mark on your neck.
“Stop staring.” You muttered, cheeks heating up. You had explicitly told Kiyoomi not to leave a mark in the most conspicuous spot, yet there it was, a noticeable mark right where you had warned him not to leave one.
“You and Sakusa had a good night,” Ina’s boyfriend laughs. He nudges Ina, “this girl knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.” He looks at the empty spot beside you, “where is he?”
“He’s coming.” You answered, adjusting the scarf around your neck.
“Who?”
The three of you glance up to see Kiyoomi without a mask. He smiles at everyone with his teeth. “Morning, guys.”
“Mor – morning…” Ina muttered, eyes bulging. She looks at you, “that picture on your home screen is Sakusa-kun?”
. . .
E/n: nothing edited - it's a long day of work for me so I needed to release some stress. Yes, I need to get back on Wipe Your Eyes lol
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Can you please do a nickname rating for Iwaizumi and/or Sakusa?
If you're not taking requests right now please ignore 🙏
These threads are AMAZING btw. I'm BINGING for MY SOUL ❤️
SAKUSA KIYOOMI ✰ RATING THE PET NAMES YOU CALL HIM: A THREAD
NOTE. Thank youu! These threads are so fun to make <33
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
➳ A/N: This is so fluffy and nothing like how I usually write, but it was fun!! Thanks for the ask!! (: <3
✧ Masterlist
Keep reading
You were over at Kiyoomis apartment after getting done with a long and tiring clinical. Coming out of the bathroom after rinsing off and changing into a sports bra and his sweats, spotting him on the couch laptop in his lap as he types away fast and with pure concentration.
You walk over to him sitting on the couch next to him resting your chin on his shoulder snooping in what he was typing away about. Seeing him emailing his volleyball coach asking about the time practice will be on Wednesday from start to end.
"whats going on, on Wednesday?" you ask, peering your eyes up at him through your lashes.
He stops typing before answering "don't worry about it.." he bluntly says, before going back to typing. okay..whats up.. .you thought, now suspecting him and not for good reasons either. You raise an eyebrow at him growing concern on why he wasn't telling you. You and him have never kept secrets. He knew everything about you down to the last detail, and the same goes for him with you.
"are you cheating on me?" you tease, peering up at him through your lashes. He just sighs not wanting to reveal the secret he had plan for you, he shakes his head no, not saying anything still typing away on his laptop. watching him closely every word and detail he types away, finally finishing the email off and sending it to the MSBY coach.
Growing more and more inpatient and concern your hand coming up and resting on his shoulder, "Cmon baby tell me!!" you whine, clinging to his shoulder looking into his bored black eyes. He sits his laptop aside on the armrest of the couch, his big strong hands lifting you up by your waist sitting you down on to his lap. His large hands gently rub up and down your sides, his eyes boring into yours looking at you with a small frown as you look at him with a pout.
"why can't you tell me? we never keep secrets from each other," you mutter out, your hands fiddling with the hem of his black shirt. His frown grows bigger he hates it, hates keeping this stupid secret from you, but he has to. you'd regret it if he told you...he just knows you to well.
Kiyoomi sighs loudly he throws his head back on to the top of the couch cushions. "I can't tell you, and no I'm not cheating..just be patient and you'll see on Wednesday...'kay?" he assured, trying to keep you from getting mad, and this whole thing becoming an augment which he didn't wanna deal with.
You just groan rolling your eyes, you trusted omi with your whole life, so you trusted his word deciding to dropping the whole convo. Already worn out from your long clinical. His hands coming up behind the small of your back gently rubbing up and down trying his back to comfort you.
The next morning you and omissions were in the kitchen you sitting up on the kitchen counter watching him make eggs as you ramble about the drama that's been going on recently at school knowing he's listening by his facial expression changing.
He sits the spatula down on a paper towel looking over at you. "Go get your nails done I'll pay." he suddenly interrupts, making you stop talking, not questioning anything you nod affirming that you will. He nods gesturing for you to continue with your rambles.
it was Wednesday the same as always you sitting on the cold kitchen counter next to the stove watching kiyoomi cook as you talk his ear off. As he listens with a small smile on his face. But today as you talk he wasn't listening his head is going 100mph thinking about what he's gonna say and how to keep you from questioning anything. And if you're gonna say no or yes..he's overthinking every little detail.
Now you and Kiyoomi were in his car driving to god knows where. He just told you to get dolled up and not question anything. You opted for a strapless floral maxi dress, it hugging your curves just right. doing a blow out to your hair, and putting on different golds and slivers of jewelry all throughout your body.
You and him finally arrive and a garden pinks, purples, greens, oranges, and yellows. Littered around the garden, parking the car and getting out kiyo coming to your side opening the door for you, taking your hand and leading you to the designated spot he and his team sat up.
Your curiosity is burning inside of you, you were nervous. Why couldn't of he just told you that you were going on a date?
Kiyoomi lead you to a little part of the garden surrounded by flowers of different colors and sizes. a small table in the center of the court yard with a bottle of wine and food. He pulls your chair out for you, sitting down he gently scoots it in. he sits down across from you his hands coming out grabbing yours. He's internally freaking out, but he pushes it down his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.
Kiyoomi stares hard at your ring finger imaging the image of the big rock decorating it.
Hello, i love your writing sm, u my fave writer atm! ❤️
With that said: car sex with Sakusa? 👀
Ahhh thank you so much!! You have immaculate taste because Sakusa + car sex? Yeah, you’re onto something 😩
Enjoy my lovely <333
--
The silence in the car wasn’t how the night started.
In fact, the ride began with fire.
“You’re unbelievable,” you seethed, gripping the edge of the seat with white-knuckled hands. Your body was turned halfway toward him, even as you stared furiously at the dashboard, shoulders tight and chest rising with sharp, shallow breaths. “Dragging me to that stupid event just to pretend we’re some picture-perfect couple? You barely even looked at me!”
Sakusa’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles pale against the black leather. His jaw flexed, a slow grind beneath smooth skin, eyes locked on the road but burning with restraint. “You said you wanted to be part of things. That was me including you.”
You scoffed and whipped your head toward him, brows pinched in disbelief. “Don’t act like you were doing me a favor. You stood across the room for an hour and didn’t say a word to me. Not even one.”
“I didn’t think I had to babysit you,” he snapped, his voice cold, cutting through the tension like a scalpel. His hands didn’t leave the wheel, but his fingers drummed once—sharp and anxious—before stilling.
Your mouth dropped open. You turned your whole body toward him now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest it looked like you were holding yourself back. “That’s not what I wanted, Kiyoomi. I just wanted to feel like I was actually with you, not standing on the outside of your perfect little world.”
His nostrils flared. “Oh, right,” he bit out, eyes still locked forward. “Because you’re the victim here. Because I’m the one who constantly pushes people away, right?”
You opened your mouth, then stopped yourself, your expression twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief. Your knee bounced—restless, fidgety—as you turned to glare out the passenger side window.
“Say it,” he growled after a beat. His voice dropped low, quiet and seething. “Say what you’re thinking.”
“I’m fucking thinking I should’ve stayed home,” you spat, voice tight with unshed tears and heat.
The car swerved slightly as Sakusa’s grip on the wheel tightened. His breathing came faster, more shallow. Then, without a word, he flicked the turn signal with a decisive snap and veered off onto a side road. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he pulled into an empty lot with the aggressive stillness of someone holding back a scream.
He slammed the gear into park, the jolt throwing your body forward slightly in your seat. Then the engine cut. Complete silence fell.
He turned to face you slowly. His posture was rigid, tie loosened just enough to reveal the strong line of his throat. His chest heaved beneath his dress shirt. When he met your eyes, they burned.
“Backseat. Now.”
You blinked, breath caught in your throat. “What?”
His voice was low and unshaking. “You want honesty? You want attention? Get in the backseat and I’ll show you exactly how much I’ve been holding back.”
You stared at him for a moment, heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your fingertips. And then, without another word, you unbuckled and climbed over the console, limbs shaky, breath quick and tight.
He was right behind you.
The doors clicked locked as he slid in after you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into him, lips crashing into yours with none of the finesse he usually carried. This wasn’t slow. This wasn’t soft. This was everything you’d been stewing in for the last hour coming to a boil.
You yanked at his suit jacket, fingers curling into the sleek fabric as he shrugged it off with a growl, leaving him in his dress shirt and loosened tie. Your nails dug into the starched cotton at his back as he pushed you down against the seat, slotting himself between your legs.
“You think I don’t want you there?” he growled, mouth hot against your neck. “You think I wasn’t losing my mind every time someone else looked at you tonight?”
You gasped, back arching. “You didn’t show it.”
“No,” he muttered, dragging his teeth along your jaw, “because if I did, I wouldn’t have made it through the damn dinner without taking you apart under the table.”
Clothes were shoved aside, breaths lost in the fogging windows. Your moans tangled with the storm still raging between you, every movement fueled by frustration and desire, until it was all the same heat.
His tie was the first thing he reached for after his shirt was undone, tugging it free from his collar with one hand while his other stayed braced beneath your thigh. He looped it behind your neck, tugging you forward by the silk until your lips collided again, the fabric tightening slightly as he pulled. The pressure was intoxicating.
“You want my attention?” he rasped, panting against your lips, “You have all of it now. Every last fucking bit.”
You whimpered as his hands pushed your underwear to the side, fingers brushing over your soaked heat with maddening slowness. His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he slid two fingers inside, curling just enough to make your spine arch.
“I should’ve done this the second you started running your mouth in the car,” he muttered, voice low and ragged. “Should’ve bent you over the hood and fucked that attitude right out of you.”
Your hips rocked down against his hand, breath hitching with every motion. “Then stop talking,” you whispered, “and do it.”
Something cracked.
He pulled his fingers out, slick and slow, only to unbuckle his belt with one hand and tug you forward by the tie with the other. He kissed you like he was trying to erase the fight from your memory—teeth and tongue, bruising and desperate.
You barely had time to brace yourself before he lined up and pushed in with one slow, devastating thrust. Your back arched off the seat, a moan torn from your throat as he filled you completely.
His forehead dropped to yours.
“Keep looking at me,” he ordered. “You wanted to feel it? Feel this.”
He started to move, hard and deep, each thrust grinding your hips against the cushion, the car rocking gently with each snap of his body into yours. The windows fogged, your moans echoing off the leather and glass, drowned out only by the rain hammering the roof above you.
Sakusa’s hand slid up your stomach, under your shirt, pushing the fabric up until your bra was bunched against your ribs. His mouth found your chest, biting, licking, marking with open-mouth kisses that burned.
Every snap of his hips was frustration, every groan was something he hadn’t said earlier, and every time he gripped your thighs tighter was a reminder: you belonged to him.
Your orgasm hit fast—unforgiving, white-hot. Your vision blurred as your body tightened, clutching at him with everything you had.
He didn’t stop.
He kept moving through it, chasing his own release, one hand holding your hip, the other still gripping that tie like a leash.
When he came, it was with a low, wrecked groan into the crook of your neck, his body pressed so tightly against yours you could barely breathe.
Later, when you lay tangled together in the backseat, breathless and wrecked, Sakusa pulled you against his chest, still panting.
“Next time,” he murmured into your hair, “you stay by my side.”
You let out a breathless laugh. “Only if you actually look at me.”
He kissed your temple, lips finally soft. “Deal.”
Sakusa Kiyoomi had never liked mess.
He wasn’t fond of anything sticky, anything uncontrolled, anything that demanded he surrender to chaos.
And sex, by nature, was a little chaotic.
But with you—it wasn’t. With you, it was something else. Something he could control, savor, memorize.
And when you sat on his face?
It became his favorite thing in the world.
You’d asked him, once—quietly, maybe even shyly—if he wanted to try it. You’d been hesitant, even as you knelt over him on the bed, thighs trembling with anticipation. But Sakusa hadn’t hesitated.
He had only looked up at you with those dark, focused eyes and said, “Sit.”
And now?
Now, your thighs were trembling around his head.
His hands were firm around them, fingers digging into your skin, guiding your hips as you rocked against his mouth. His curls were damp with sweat and slick. His jaw worked with slow, punishing precision.
Every time his tongue dragged up between your folds, he flattened it against your clit and flicked—just once, just enough to make your body twitch—and then he did it again.
And again.
And again.
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Your hands were buried in the sheets behind you, hips tilted forward as he held you steady, held you still, held you open.
"Kiyoomi—" you gasped, but it was barely a whisper.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His mouth was too busy—working you apart, slow and relentless, tongue curling, lips sealing around you with devastating pressure. He sucked you down, drew another sharp moan from your throat, and when you twitched above him, tried to lift off just a little—
His grip tightened.
“Don’t move,” he rasped against you, voice low, strained, and muffled by the heat of your cunt. "I’m not done yet."
Your breath caught.
You could barely hold yourself up. Your legs were shaking violently, muscles screaming, your entire body flushed with heat. You were soaked. You could feel it dripping down your thighs, clinging to his cheeks, smearing against his lips.
And he was loving it.
He groaned into you, hands pulling you down harder, deeper, locking you into place as his tongue fucked into you—slow, deep, precise. He was savoring you.
You sobbed. Loud, wrecked, desperate.
“I—I can’t—Kiyoomi—”
His only response was a low moan, like he was addicted to the taste of you, to the way you sounded. His nose was pressed against your clit, tongue working deeper, messier now, grinding slow and firm until your thighs were twitching with every stroke.
Your vision blurred. The knot in your stomach pulled tighter, tighter, too tight.
And then—
You broke.
You came with a scream, hips jerking, grinding into his face as your orgasm crashed through you in one white-hot wave. Your whole body locked up, the pleasure too intense, too much, almost unbearable.
But Sakusa didn’t stop.
Not even when your thighs started to shake uncontrollably.
Not even when you whimpered, “Please,” so softly it was barely sound.
He shifted the angle of his mouth, focused entirely on your clit now, his tongue flicking rapidly, pressure sharp and steady. His hands held you down as your entire body jolted with overstimulation.
You cried out again, voice cracking, hands flying forward to claw at his hair, at the headboard, anything you could reach.
He was going to make you come again.
And he did.
The second orgasm was worse. Sharper. It tore through you like lightning, and you couldn’t even scream this time—you just gasped, mouth open, eyes wide, legs clamping tight around his head as you sobbed through it.
And still—he didn’t stop.
Your body shook. Collapsed. Melted into his mouth.
Only when your hips bucked too hard—when your voice gave out entirely, when your whole body spasmed in his hold—did he finally relent.
He kissed your inner thigh once, slow and deliberate, then another kiss to your slick, swollen folds, almost reverent. You slumped forward, collapsing onto the bed, shaking.
Sakusa pushed himself up slowly, eyes dark and unreadable, curls stuck to his forehead. His face was soaked. His lips were flushed, chin wet with you, and he looked completely ruined.
And satisfied.
He crawled up beside you, his hand gentle on your hip.
“Still breathing?” he murmured, voice hoarse.
You could only nod, barely.
He leaned down and kissed your shoulder, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your spine.
“You’re going to do that again,” he said simply, like it wasn’t a question.
And in that moment, you knew he’d found his favorite position.
Haii this is the first time I ever make a request but I really liked your content <3 can you make like sex w Kiyoomi after his gf (afab) opened up about being insecure about her flat chest? Please 🙏 I don't know how specific I should be, but I imagine him like touching and kissing more in that area after that, or just worshipping her body in general. I hope I'm not too greedy if I also ask for raw lol 😭. Also, I'm taking the opportunity to ask you: do you prefer people to be more specific with their prompts or just leave it up to you to decide? Okay that's all. I hope you're having a great day! :] and sorry if I made a mistake in my writing 🙏 (english isn't my first language). Take care, muah <33
Hiii!! 🥺💕
First of all—thank you so much for sending in your first request, that means so much to me!! And your English is absolutely perfect, don’t worry at all 💗 I totally understood everything you meant!
Also?? Your idea??? So beautiful and gentle and emotional—yes. I adore how you imagined him paying extra attention and offering that soft, grounding kind of reassurance. It fits him so well.
You’re not being greedy at all!! It’s all ready for you lolol 🫶 I hope it makes you feel warm and loved. And to answer your question: I love when people share specific ideas like this!! But I’m also totally happy to run wild with a vague prompt too—whatever’s most comfortable for you!
Thank you again for trusting me with such a tender piece, muah 💋💞 --
There’s a tremble in your voice when you say it, quiet and shy beneath the warmth of his sheets. You’re curled against his side, wearing one of his long-sleeved shirts, sleeves too big, hem hanging just past your thighs. The room is quiet. Gentle. Dimly lit.
“I know it’s stupid, but... sometimes I wish I had more. There.”
Your fingers hover near your chest like they don’t belong to you, like you’re embarrassed for even bringing it up. You don’t look at him when you say it.
But Sakusa looks at you.
More than that—he sees you.
He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t dismiss it with a compliment or try to fix what isn’t broken. He waits. Lets you say it all. And then, after a beat of silence, he shifts.
“Can I show you something?” he asks, voice low, tender. When you nod, he leans in—soft, reverent—and kisses your collarbone first. Then just above your heart. Then lower.
His hands find the hem of his shirt you’re wearing, and when you give him permission, he pulls it off slowly, like unwrapping something fragile.
He kisses the top of your chest, then the dip between, then lower still, mouth brushing over skin with careful intention.
“I like this part of you,” he murmurs. “I always have.”
You shiver. He’s not in any rush. His lips explore everything slowly, reverently, thumbs smoothing over your ribs, fingertips grazing soft skin like he wants to memorize you.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, not like a compliment, but a truth he’s always known.
When he finally presses himself to you, everything is slow. Heated, but gentle. He’s raw tonight, in the most intimate way. There’s nothing rushed or rough about it. Just skin, warmth, the low rasp of your name in his mouth.
And when he looks down at you, eyes half-lidded, breath shaking, he says it again.
“You’re more than enough.”
Over and over again, with every kiss. Every touch. Every slow, deep thrust of his hips. Until the only thing you can feel is the weight of his love and the heat building between you, quiet and unrelenting.
He holds your hands. Nuzzles into your neck. Cradles you like you’re everything.
And you are.
To him, you always have been.