#꒰ lovers. ꒱ — sakusa

[utahimeow]

for the writing practice,, kiyoomi with either spit kink or biting maybe..

cw — nsfw content minors dni. f!reader, spitting

‘spit in my mouth pls 🥺🥺’

that’s what the tiktok comment says. the comment left on a simple video on msby’s official tiktok page in which kiyoomi is practicing his spikes. the comment that has kiyoomi staring at his phone screen with a mixture of both horror and perplexity on his face.

“why would i spit in someone’s mouth?” he asks.

unfortunately you don’t miss a beat when you say, “because it’s hot.”

you’re too preoccupied with washing the dishes to witness the utterly disgusted expression he gives you, although you can guess exactly what he looks like. “it’s vile. why would anyone want someone else’s spit in their mouth?”

“it’s not about the spit, omi. it’s about the intimacy of it all,” you explain, unable to stifle a grin.

you could continue, you could try and explain it to him until he understands. you could reason that he has no problem shooting his cum in your mouth, so how is spit any different? but ultimately you drop it. it’s just a silly tiktok comment after all.

except it sits there in kiyoomi’s mind for the next few days. as he practises, as he falls asleep, as he fucks you deep. it’s gross, he keeps telling himself. but why isn’t he convinced?

and when his thumb gently forces your mouth open as he drives his hips into yours, when he watches your eyes turn shiny and your face turn dumb with submission, when he lets a tiny, pearly glob of saliva drop onto your tongue, he understands.

“swallow for me,” he tells you and you obey without a shred of hesitation, and fuck, he understands.

he’s never felt so close with you– he almost can’t believe it. but his heart swells at how easily you do as you’re told, and he’s chasing his spit with a sloppy kiss to your swollen lips, and he’s never understood more.

[classyinnie]

He hates you.

He hates the way you wear your emotions on your sleeves. It’s excruciatingly endearing to find your gentleness in a world that does nothing but provide you with worries. He hates how, despite your doubts and trepidations, you still look at it with such wonder one couldn’t even fathom or place.

He'd always wondered how such a pure soul—beaten and calloused—can look at the endless possibilities before them and believe they’re worth it.

He considered he might be a coward then, for don’t we all have fears that stop us from stepping beyond the line that confines our capabilities?

He hates your gentleness. How you look at people like they hold the world in their hands. How you listen intently to everything they have to say. How you would offer a hand even if your arms are already full.

He hates the way you wear kindness. How it’s perfectly knitted to your skin, it’s almost second nature. He hates how you would go out of your way to put others before yourself.

"Selfless", he would call you.

"Pushover", he would label you.

But insults were a mere façade to the raging questions in his head as to how. How do you have so much to give?

But most of all, he hates himself for not hating you. Not even a fraction.

You are like a printed polaroid; he wants to vigorously shake to reveal the entire picture.

A pipe dream, that’s what you are. But that doesn't erase the fact that he once stooped so low to even—in his unabashed desperation—consider asking himself if he is worthy enough to experience what it's like to be cared for by you.

—Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, KYOTANI, Osamu, KAGEYAMA, Kenma, Sakusa, Suna

[aiendeeay]

Kyouhaba walked so Sakuatsu could run, I don't make the rules

[realcube]

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ CHARCTER GENERATOR for @naru-mi-gen

𓆩♡𓆪 part of my lovers level — 3k follower event

𓆩♡𓆪 chosen tropes: brother's best friend

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR CHARACTER IS...

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

tw// a bit suggestive at the end

since signing on with MSBY black jackals, sakusa hasn't been back in tokyo for ages, because the team's hometown is based in osaka. which is a shame as that means sakusa and your brother haven't hung out in ages. they used to be very close friends back when they both attended itchiyama institute, but they've not seen each other much since graduation.

although they both still talk on the phone and text frequently, so that is probably why you've opened the door on a random tuesday to see the one and only kiyoomi sakusa standing there, wearing black tshirt and loose sweats, with a wheely suitcase standing beside him.

meanwhile, you were in your loungewear, having not been expecting any vistors and presuming that the person at the door was a mailman or a delivery driver who you'd only have to interact with briefly. but no, it was your brother's wildly successful best friend , who you once had a massive crush on all throughout high school— and perhaps remnants of the crush still linger.

and these stifled feelings probably contributed to the raging embarrassment you were currently experiencing. despite the fact sakusa used to see you in your pyjamas all the time when he'd come over to your house for sleepovers with your brother, something about him seeing you while you were completely unprepared was morbidly shameful.

even though, unbeknowst to you, not much has changed in sakusa's eyes. you're still one of the most effortlessly beautiful women he's ever laid his eyes upon. a slight blush creeps onto his features, which goes unnoticed by you as you're too focused on trying to hide your figure.

"uhm, hi, aysha. where's your brother?" he asks with an averted gaze. and as soon as those words exit his mouth, he is immediately hit with waves of regret, as he didn't mean to sound so dismissive of your presense and he should've asked you how you were doing first. but he finds it hard to think straight with you around. it's probably a good thing that you're unable to come to his games in osaka; he'd never win a single one ever again with you watching him.

"him and his wife went on holiday, so i'm cat-sitting for them." as if on cue, the kitty you were watched pads through the open door and starts pawing at sakusa's shoes. you gasp and open your mouth to apolgise, about to pick up the cat until he does it himself. holding her in his arms and stroking her chin as she purrs happily.

"he told me about that, but i thought they came back today."

you nod, "yeah, they were supposed to be home by this morning but their flight got delayed, so they probably won't be back until later this evening."

he blinks, with a completely vacant expession, "oh."

"yeah." you mutter, heart pounding in your chest as you realise what that means, "would you like to wait here?"

"sure." he nods. truthfully he'd rather spend his time in his hotel, it might be less tense that way but deep down he had the desire to stay with you.

he carries the cat in and you close the door behind him, only to turn around and see he was still standing in the middle of the floor awkwardly, "sit down, c'mon! this is your home too, you know. remember all of the time you and him used to spend in this living room playing video games? we should've had you paying rent."

you joke while motion towards the couch. hiding his small smile behind his hair, he slowly takes a seat, until he notices that you don't join him and instead head towards the stairs, "where are you going?"

"to the guest bedroom. i'm just going to change quickly; i'll be right back."

"why?" he asks, and when you hear him say this, you finally turn around to look at him in his black eyes.

you chuckle awkwardly at his inquiry, "uhm, because i'm in my pyjamas."

"it's fine." he instantly replies, without missing a beat. your heart races at the way his eyes are glued to you, he's never look at you this way before — unless he has and you've just haven't noticed. "i think you look okay."

"just okay?" you tease.

sakusa gulps, not really picking up on the playfulness in your tone and assuming that you were actually peeved about being called okay-looking. so he explains, "no. i think you look pretty, but that might've been too forward to say." he's been critised for being to blunt several times in his lifetime, so he's learned how to be thoughtful about his word-choice (when he wants to be).

"oh, i was only joking but— that's sweet, thank you." you stammer, a violent heat rising to cheeks and drying your throat. you hated the effect his man had on you, so you hastily try to exit the conversation, but not without a little bit more teasing first; being flirtatious was — ironically — an effective coping mechanism for being flustered.

"i think i'll still head to my room and change." you say, as you start walking up the stairs, "i'll be back in five minutes. unless you want to come with?"

sakusa quirks an eyebrow, "i would. but who is going to watch the cat?" he asks, holding up the kitty still in his hands.

"good point." you nod, continuing to head up the stairs.

sakusa's eyes widen; he didn't really expect you to not give him a solution. so, he looks to the kitty in his hands and whispers, "sorry. we'll be quick." there is a ball laying on the coffee table, which he gives to the kitty as he places her on the ground and heads up the stairs after you.

for @naru-mi-gen: firstly i'd like to say i LOVE your works on your main acc, you are sooo talented MWAH

also i've never really wrote brother's bsf trope before but this was so much fun!! the chemistry between you and omi is delicious 😩 also i left your brother as purposefully vague so you can choose a character or assume what you like hehe

[hubookunaluwawa]

the horrifying realization that someone genuinely knows you

it wasn’t supposed to go this way. it was supposed to be easy. casual. fun. but now, you feel like puking. because the second those forbidden words left his lips while he was buried deep inside of you, after a night of the both of you pretending not to know how the other felt, all hell broke loose in your heart. you were able to keep your composure through the end, but once he cleaned you up and fell asleep, you quickly grabbed your stuff and got the hell out of dodge.

your throat tightens up, and your eyes start to sting as you head for the bus stop. one minute passes. then five, and then ten. and then, as if this night hadn’t been bad enough, droplets of rain began to drizzle from the sky. this bus couldn’t be coming any fucking slower, you think, and you nervously tap the side of your leg, hoping with all your might that he didn’t realize you left, because if he did–

“y/n?”

fuck.

“hey!” you feign innocence as you quickly glance at him, “what’re you doing up?”

“i could ask you the exact same thing,” he returns, his smile masking something foreign… something vulnerable.

“oh, well, yeah, i mean, i have an 8 am class, so i have to head back to my place.” you feel your easygoing facade beginning to crumble as you continue to stare straight ahead at the road. you felt gross, lying to someone you always felt so comfortable around. you just hope he doesn’t realize it before the bus gets here.

“really?”

“yep!”

“i mean, i thought you said you don’t like doing… this…” he motions between the two of you, “the morning before an early class. said it fucks up your internal clock and stuff,” he remarks in a tone that makes it crystal clear he’s not buying a word you say.

you turn to look at him once again, and he’s staring at you with a hooded unwavering gaze that you’d mistake for apathy if you didn’t know him any better. unfortunately, you do know him better: enough to notice that the unfamiliar look in his eyes is blatant fear, as if he thinks you could disappear at any moment. and then, how much he knows you hits you all at once, and you’re left a scared little kid with no idea what to do.

“yeah, i guess i just forgot.” you’d have to be in complete denial to think he couldn’t hear the distinct crack in your voice, fake smile be damned. the two of you stare at each other for what feels like hours until the tears threatening to spill from your eyes make you look away.

“y/n.” but his eyes are still on you.

“mhm?” don’t.

“y/n, please.” only on you.

i can’t.

“i need you to tell me if i just fucked everything up back there.” the desperation in his voice is unmistakable, making you catch your breath. your face falls, and your heart hurts more than you ever thought possible.

“why’d you say it,” you whisper, “why’d you have to go and say it?” and his heart shatters at the brokenness of your voice because it was him who did this shit to you.

“when we started this, we promised it wouldn’t turn into anything. and it was fine when it was just me feeling something, but it won’t work with the both of us–”

“why?” something’s changed. he’s angry. “why won’t it work? why can’t we let it work?”

“because shit like this never does!” you scream, and you can feel everything you’ve been bottling up inside for the past few months escaping your body in one go.

“it never does,” you say with a quiet laugh. “we’d get together, and then you’d get bored with me–”

“i could never get bored with you–”

“–or i’d get bored with you,” you continue while noticing the fleeting look of hurt in his eyes that’s quickly overshadowed by anger, “and then we’d only be with each other out of obligation. we’d be ruining a really good thing just for the chance of something different, so just forget it, because whatever… it is that you feel won’t last,” you say as if it’s the funniest thing in the world while gesturing towards him.

“oh, fuck you.” he laughs, tugging his hair in frustration.

“fuck you!” you retort, delirious from the fact that this conversation is even happening at all.

“no, fuck you for trying to tell me that what i feel isn’t real.”

“okay,” you scoff as you begin to walk away. you don’t know where you headed, but as long as he’s not there, you know it’s where you need to be.

“and fuck you for making me love you! in more ways than just one!”

you freeze for probably the 50th time tonight, and you finally look at him again to see the shine in his eyes as he speaks.

“please don’t disappear when i tell you this,” he practically whispers to you with a once-again fearful look.

and you don’t. you’ve heard your fair share of “i love yous” in your life, and they all meant the same, substanceless, conditional thing. and so, the more you heard it, the less you believed it. you’ve seen relationships–both yours and those of the people you care about–fall apart because people will romantically love those that they don’t even like platonically. so you believed, and continue to believe, that romantic love without a platonic basis is an incredibly common recipe for disaster. you know this, and yet, you don’t think you could run from him right now even if you tried.

“i’ve never felt what i’ve felt for you with anybody else. i think about you all the time. like, you’re the first thing i think about in the morning and the last thing on my mind every night. and whenever i see you, it feels like what everybody talks about in the movies and the songs, and it’s like the heavens open up and everything makes sense and my world’s brighter because you’re in it. i’m completely and utterly head-over-heels in love with you.”

he just thinks he is, you try to remind yourself, but this shit isn’t real. it’s just infatuation, a burst of attraction, a trick of the mind. it’ll go away eventually–

“but it’s not just infatuation like you always say.” you mentally curse him for being able to read your mind and peel back your layers so easily, but he takes a step closer to you as he speaks.

“because you’re also the one person i feel most comfortable around. i could be having the worst day of my life and seeing you for a few minutes would make it the best, because everything about you makes me happy! everything! i mean your smile and your eyes and the way you giggle at the corniest jokes and the little crinkle you get on your forehead when i say something dumb and… how you make me feel safe enough to talk to you and know you won’t think i’m crazy, and how passionate you get about the things and people you care about: all of it has me completely obsessed with you, and all i know is that i wanna keep making you breakfast in the mornings and holding you close at night and going on late night drives with you and hearing you laugh because your laugh makes me feel like i’m dreaming whenever i hear it and i can’t help but laugh too because i just can’t believe that, out of everybody on this planet, you keep choosing to be here with me and i just… i love you, y/n. and even if this doesn’t last, i wanna be with you for as long as i’m able, because it doesn’t feel like my love for you is ever gonna go away.” 

and he breathes out the final declaration with a confidence that leaves you stunned because holy shit you’re actually starting to believe him. you can’t tell whether the wetness on your face is from the pouring rain or your own tears. maybe it’s both. but all you know is that, now, he’s holding your heart in his hands. and the scariest part is that he’s holding it with as much care as he’d treat his own heart. no, as much care as you want to treat his. and then, he starts to ramble, which you’re sure you’ve never seen him do (in fact, you’re pretty sure this is the most you’ve ever heard him speak).

you can’t stop yourself from looking at his lips, and the space between you grows smaller and smaller until it ceases to exist.

“i mean, it’s like you’re branded on my heart. you have this insane amount of control over me and i’m constantly wanting to be around you and hold you and make you happy because you feel like home to me but in the best way possible and i just want to be that for you too, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s completely cool, and we could just forget this conversation ever happened, because you’re also my best friend and i don’t wanna lose you, and i–”

your lips taste sweet against his, and your hands cup his cheeks with a delicateness that makes him feel like crying, and he feels happier than he thinks he’s ever felt because he knows what this kiss means.

you take a moment to break apart, the tip of your nose brushing against his as he chases after your lips, and you desperately proclaim, “i’d never get bored of you either. i love you. i love you. you’re all i want.”

the bus you were waiting on passes you both by, and he meets your lips again, sighing into the kiss with relief. and you both make a silent promise, right then and there, to never let each other go again.

[zentriii]

Kiyoomi scrunches her nose. She’ll never get Motoya’s obsession with plants. It was fine when it was just succulents, those are easy enough to take care of, but flowers fucking reek.

It’s not a bad smell per say, but it’s stupidly strong in this shop, even with her mask up. They’re pretty at least, she’ll give them that.

She’s debating between the pretty blue flowers and the silly, warm yellow ones. Motoya should have never trusted her judgment, how’s she supposed to resist the urge to tease her for always being in a yellow coloured team? At least Kiyoomi can say she’s escaped it in the Black Jackals cause gold isn’t yellow.

“Is there anythin’ I can help you with?” A pretty blonde girl in a red apron asks. Kiyoomi nearly jumps out of her skin, where’d she come from?

“Um, can I get these?” Kiyoomi points at the two, ready to bolt out of here because Employee Girl is way too gorgeous for her to not make a fool out of herself. Her palms are sweaty and she’s so grateful her mask is covering half her face.

The girl leans in way too close to Kiyoomi’s space and reads the labels, “Cornflower and fressia? I can put them together for you but d’you wanna check out the white freesia’s instead? They’d be real pretty together.”

“Yeah, sure.” Kiyoomi could be asked for her credit card information right now and she’d hand it over no questions asked. What did she ask her for again?

“Great, they’re over this way.” Employee Girl walks away and what else is Kiyoomi supposed to do but follow?

The flowers they stop at all look the same to Kiyoomi but she holds her breath as the girl talks about a few different ones, pointing them out and saying stuff about how pretty things look prettier together. Her name tag reads “Miya O.” A pretty name for a pretty girl. She wonders what the O stands for.

“That sound good?”

Kiyoomi nods, Miya’s voice sounds great in fact.

“Well you’re in luck! We finished our orders for today so I can put it together for ya right now but please submit a request a few days in advance next time. We’re pretty busy during the afternoon so ya picked a decent time to come in.”

Miya picks a few different flowers and the blue ones from before – the cornflowers – and heads to the back. Kiyoomi wants to protest but she’s just a customer and Miya’s an employee doing her job.

Miya peeps her head out after closing the door. She bites her lip before calling out, “Can I ask ya for a favour?”

“Uh, sure.”

“If ya see a girl with my face try an’ clock in, tell her she’s s’pposed to be in bed right now. My sister’s a bit of a workaholic, I stole her name tag this mornin’ for her own good.”

She assumes Miya means that she’s a twin but that’s not fair to her at all. She’s just a girl. Kiyoomi only hopes she won’t have to see the two of them together. One pretty girl’s bad enough for her heart as is.

The time passes by in a blur. At one point she’s keeping a vague eye out for Miya’s clone to walk in while looking at the different flowers; the next she’s being given her bouquet, paying for it, and waving bye to the prettiest girl in the world.

Oh well, it’s not like she’s the main character in a yuri manga.

Kiyoomi drops off the flowers at Motoya’s. She’s supposedly too busy taking care of her sick girlfriends to make the trip herself. Kiyoomi wonders if that excuse is just bullshit since it’s been months and she’s still not met Osamu and Rin yet. Unfortunately, Motoya’s apartment’s stuffy and reeks of sickness so maybe there’s some truth to Motoya’s words.

Maybe.

“You got the flowers?” Motoya closes her room door behind her, thankfully right before a loud sneeze is released by one of her definitely real girlfriends. Well there goes that bet Kiyoomi had going with Yachi.

“Yeah, I still don’t get why you can’t have a normal hobby. These things die in like, a week.”

Motoya fusses over the flowers for a bit, making them nice and pretty in a clean vase that held her last bouquet. “One, Samu gets all blushy when I give her flowers and two, I just like them. It’s low stakes responsibility that forces me to have my shit together.”

Kiyoomi snorts. Motoya’s always had her shit together, even if it looks like a mess on the outside. Her cousin is one of the most ruthlessly competent people she knows.

“Hey Kiyo, where’d you get these by the way?” Motoya asks cutting the store tag off a stem.

“Doesn’t it say there?” Kiyoomi asks. “Miya’s Boutique I think.”

“Well whichever employee rang you up left you a little something.” Motoya tosses the label to her with a smug little smirk.

Kiyoomi wants to shove her hand into her face to wipe it off, but Motoya would lick her first and she doesn’t want to think about where her tongue’s been, sick partners or not.

She takes a look at the what Motoya meant and pretends like the name and numbers aren’t sending a rush of blood straight to her face. She carefully tucks it into a pocket while maintaining eye contact with her menace of a cousin. Motoya can smell the smallest twinge of embarrassment in a crowd and she is not to be trusted to mind her own business.

She laughs at nothing, like the airhead Kiyoomi’s always known her to be, but there’s something unsettling in the knowing glint in her eyes. Kiyoomi firmly ignores it: if it isn’t acknowledged, it isn’t real.

“Oh this is killing me, Kiyo you’ve gotta come over next week. Please I think I’ll die.” Motoya abandons her flowers in favour of hanging off of her arm and giving her stupid puppy eyes. “You can bring whoever left you their number. Actually, please bring them, you’ve gotta.”

Fuck, how’s Kiyoomi supposed to say no to her puppy eyes.

“Fine, but fat chance I bring her over.”

Motoya sniffs hautily, like Kiyoomi’s doing her a great disservice. “You’ll regret it.”

“Doubt it,” Kiyoomi sighs, hoping future-her doesn’t give in to Motoya’s ridiculous demands.

She leaves with a halfhearted wave, feeling preemptive disappointment in herself because she knows Motoya’s not going to let her go so easily. Whatever. She’s got better things to spend her energy on.

How many i's in a “hi” is too desperate to send?

[my-owl-sub]

✧Do it once more for me✧

Koutarou.B x Reader

Summary; Losing your passion to something was in the far back of your head. Until it happened. You didn't know what to do with your life.

The only path set for yourself was now gone, you didn't have a backup plan. You decided Athletic health/training would be best for your future.

Running into someone who flipped your life upside just by giving him your lucky charm.

He wanted you to do your best.

✧✧☆☆✧✧☆☆✧✧☆☆✧✧☆☆✧✧☆☆✧✧☆☆✧✧

Playlist; ✧Do it once more for me✧

Warnings; depression, (fake) bullying, kys jokes, mental health problems, alcohol, smoking, and more..

Introduction; Most normal roommates expect Atsumu / Gental, amazing, most fearsome, guys in the world! (Ft. Akaashi Keiji)

(Chapters)

Chapter one;

Chapter two;

Chapter three;

Taglist; (2/45)

Click here if you wanna be tagged for the future updates when this comes out.

This has been on my mind, not ready yet, tho, but I wanted to post it out there if anyone wanted to be tagged or ready for it.

Take care

-V

[solreix]

sakusa kiyoomi as yn's minsan childhood friend, madalas kaaway. at ngayon, boyfriend daw?

"ang kupad."

umirap siya sa hangin nang marinig ang salitang iyon galing kay sakusa. hindi niya pa nga nasusuklay ang buhok, at hindi pa siya nakakapag-pulbo!

"napaka-aga mo kasi, nagmamadali ka ba?" inis niyang sagot habang nakatingin sa salamin.

nakita niya pang inirapan siya nito bago sumagot, "first day na first day kasi nagpapa-late ka."

dumila siya rito. "first day na first day kasi, gusto mong mauna sa lahat! wala pa ngang magtuturo niyan sigurado."

"iiwan na kita—"

nang akmang tatayo si sakusa mula sa sofa nila, agad niyang pinagpag ang pulbo sa mukha at itinulak ang buhok gamit ang kamay. agad siyang tumakbo pa-pintuan, making sure nauna siya kay sakusa dahil magsasapatos pa siya.

"ma! alis na kami!" sigaw niya habang nagsisintas. muli, dumila siya kay sakusa dahil sa bagal nito maglakad, nauna siyang matapos magsintas kaysa makalabas ito ng gate. "disney princess ka masyado maglakad kasi kaya gusto mong maaga."

"kaysa sa'yo na darating sa campus nang pawis na pawis?" sagot nito.

"mama mo," asar niya rito.

"dugyot."

nanlaki ang mata niya, at nagpanggap na gulat. suminghap pa siya para mas dramatic bago tiningnan ang tabi. "dugyot si tita? susumbong kita!"

kitang-kita niya kung paano mangunot ang noo ni sakusa sa narinig. gusto niyang tumawa dahil dito, pero pinipigilan niya ang sarili para mas maasar ito.

bumilis tuloy ang paglalakad ni sakusa at dahil sa haba ng biyas nito, naiiwan siya. agad niya itong hinabol at tumalon upang abutin ang leeg nito, at sumabit.

"'wag ka mang-iwan!"

"get off me," naiinis na tinanggal nito ang braso niya mula sa leeg.

this time, hindi niya na mapigilang matawa nang makita ang pamumula ng buong mukha nito. umabot pa sa leeg. "sensitive talaga ng balat mo! konting lapat lang ng kamay ko namumula ka agad."

"marumi ka kasi," sagot nito, inayos ang suot na face mask.

"ang kapal-kapal ng mukha mo, hoy—"

alam niya namang hindi siya marumi, pero dahil sa dumi na 'yan kaya lang naman sila nagkakilala ni sakusa. bagong lipat pa lang sa tabi nila ang pamilya nito nang umuwi siyang puro putik mula bewang hanggang paa.

hindi niya makakalimutan kung paano siya nahusgahan nito pagpasok na pagpasok pa lang niya sa sariling bahay. malinaw na malinaw pa sa utak niya ang mukhang tahimik na batang lalaki, na nakasuot ng yellow t-shirt na may mukha ni sponge bob at short na kulay itim. nasa tabi ito ng isang magandang babae na kulot din ang buhok, at nakikipag-usap sa mama niya.

"yuck." hindi man lang ito nag-abalang hinaan ang boses!

kinder pa lang sila noon kaya dapat normal pa lang na marumi sila kalalaro. well, nahulog siya sa kanal kaya siya ganoon karumi sa totoo lang pero hindi na kailangang malaman iyon ng batang si sakusa.

sumama ang timpla ng mukha niya at kumuha ng putik mula sa damit. tumatakbo siyang lumapit sa batang mukhang bubuyog dahil sa suot nito at ikinalat ang putik sa mukha ni sponge bob sa damit nito.

"ayan, yuck ka rin!" at saka siya humalukipkip.

parehong nagulat ang mga mama nila sa nangyari, at ilang sorry ata ang nasabi ng pareho sa isa't isa. dahil mas malaki ang kasalanan niya, lagi siyang sinasabihan ng nanay niya na puntahan si sakusa para sabay silang pumasok at nakasanayan na nila ito.

"duduraan kita pag-uwi, ayaw mo akong hintayin!" sigaw niya nang muling magkaroon ng distansya sa pagitan nila.

"hindi kita isasabay," sagot nito kahit nakatalikod.

akmang sasagot siyang muli nang may humarang na lalaki sa kaniya. "uy, hoshi!" nakipag-apir pa siya kay hoshiumi.

"wala ka namang jowa diba?" bungad nito.

pabiro siyang sumimangot. "mapanakit naman bungad mo, dalawang buwan tayong hindi nagkita."

humalakhak si hoshiumi. "tanga! irereto kita, crush ka kasi ni kanoka!"

nanlaki ang mata niya. "kanoka–kanoka amanai!? yung sa volleyball?"

ngumisi ito. "oo, pre. type mo?"

"sinong hindi may type sa kaniya—"

"yeah, but sadly may boyfriend siya."

naputol ang sasabihin niya nang may sumingit. iniangat niya sa katabi ang tingin at nakitang si sakusa ito, wala na ang suot na face mask at wala ring ekspresyon sa mukha.

"weh? tingnan mo! maka-react kanina akala mo naoffend ko siya!" sumimangot si hoshiumi. "sayang naman patay na patay sa'yo 'yon—pero i-interrogate kita sa jowa mo next time! late na 'ko!"

bago pa man siya makareact, nakalipad na paalis si hoshiumi. nilongon niyang muli ang kasama. tatlong beses. mabagal. at pasama nang pasama ang naging pagkurap niya habang nakatitig kay sakusa.

"anong eksena 'yon?" tanong niya.

umangat ang kaliwang kilay ng kausap. "bakit? gusto mo si kanoka?"

"hindi—pero kahit na!" lumalim ang gitla sa noo niya. "epal ka sa love life! at boyfriend—sinong boyfriend ko?"

ngumisi ito, at tumagilid ang ulo. "ako."

ilang segundong katahimikan ang namutawi sa pagitan nila bago siya nakahanap ng isasagot. "may... may hd ka sa'kin?"

this time, noo naman ni sakusa ang nangunot. "hd?"

suminghap siya. "h. d. hidden desire!"

nalaglag ang panga ni sakusa. sumara ang bibig nito, at muling bubukas pero isasara muli. tila hindi alam ang sasabihin. sa huli, bumuntong hininga lang ito, umiling, at tinalikuran siya.

"hoy! hindi ka pa nga nanliligaw!" habol niya.

humarap ito sa kaniya kahit naglalakad. "i will, tanga. pinaalis ko lang magiging sagabal."

[tendou-satori-chocolatier]

Thug: you got the goods?

Sakusa: *opens cage revealing 7 ducklings*

Thug: the deal was 8

Sakusa: I'm just the delivery guy *hat quacks softly*

[rk-tmblr]

<Hurry up, Miya. The silent's being too creepy here where you're supposed to be and I cannot stand it anymore.

>Woah Omi-kun, ya surely have a weird way to admit ya're missin' me...

<I do not miss you. I want you, Miya. So get a move on.

From my (soon to be) SakuAtsu Fanfiction.

[sktsficrecs]

Title: big league chew

Words: 105k

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, getting together

Summary:

“Omi, was it?” And there’s the voice that Sakusa so desperately wishes he could ignore. He turns to meet the catcher’s gaze anyway.

“Kiyoomi. I prefer Sakusa.”

“Right, Omi. Ya pitch?”

“According to my contract.”

“Listen,” Atsumu adjusts himself once more so he’s relaxed along the chair rather than sitting on the cushion properly—legs again propped onto the armrest, “I’m gonna be yer catcher nine times outta ten and I love this game. We can both at least agree that a workin’ relationship would be beneficial for the both of us.”

Thoughts: i don’t even gaf about baseball but WHAT TH EUCK

Link:

[yugumiz]

sakusa kiyoomi study + small skts

[classyinnie]

He is engulfed with a sense of awareness whenever he sees you. It's not butterflies in his stomach or the sensation of his heart beating out of his chest, but a longing.

He can't seem to take his eyes off of you as he picks up on your mannerisms instinctively. How you smile, the little nods you make when you converse with people, and the animated movement of your hands when you retell a story to your friends.

And every time he forces himself to look away, he finds his ears picking up on these minor details instead; Your hums of approval as someone adds to your little story or the way you would slam your hands on the table just before you break into laughter.

Your excitement can be heard a mile away, piqueing the interest of those in your vicinity. Even more so, his.

You meander recollections of events and conversations throughout your day that should be nothing but boring. But somehow, when mixed with your opinions and colored by your thoughts becomes interesting. He can’t help but think he could always distinguish your voice over the din of the crowd.

But despite all this, he never summons the courage to approach you, preferring to just be drawn into your orbit. Silently appreciating. Silently loving.

—Akaashi, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, KENMA, Asahi, Sakusa, Tsukishima

[luminyxoxo]

On 20th March 2013, Miya Atsumu’s soulmate’s voice manifested clearly inside his head. All of his excitement and anticipation from months of waiting for his soulmate went down the drain from only four words.

“I don’t want you.”

It was a boy, that’s all Atsumu could tell. He sounded young, probably younger than him. That was the only thing he knew about his soulmate.

The rejection was already devastating, but the silence from his soulmate after days, months even, of begging, demanding for answers, was what prompted Atsumu to finally give up on everything he had ever wanted.

He fell on bad habits, drinking away his sorrows and fooling around. Upon seeing Osamu’s devastation at his self destruction, Atsumu stopped and started recovering.

On his second year of playing with MSBY Black Jackals, his soulmate reached out to him again.

“Hey.”

Atsumu almost flubbed his game. Despite the obvious concern from his teammates, he gritted his teeth and continued. His silence towards his soulmate felt damning but a big part of him was petty, still heartbroken from the rejection.

“I know you’re listening.” His soulmate spoke again, when Atsumu was in the locker room. He’d won the game, but he still feel defeated.

He had plenty of questions but Atsumu didn’t want to talk to someone who didn’t want him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for rejecting you. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry I wasn’t ready for you.” The voice said, almost desperate with remorse. Atsumu was on the bus back to the team’s dormitory.

He ignored his soulmate.

“If.. you ever find it in you to talk to me again, to fix this, you can find me. My name.. is Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Atsumu cracked a small, hollowed smile in his kitchen. He wasn’t surprised. He’d known since Kiyoomi had opened his mouth to introduce himself back in training camp.

The confirmation felt like a nail on his coffin. He’d known.

That felt a lot like his downfall. Kiyoomi didn’t know it was him. How could he, when he refused to even give Atsumu a chance to talk?

So, out of the goodness of his heart, he decided to give his soulmate a proper farewell.

“I don’t want ya either.”

There was stunned silence. He knew Kiyoomi had heard him. He knew Kiyoomi knew who he was. He smiled, empty and bitter as he listened to the pleas that filtered through his mind before finally putting up the walls that blocked his soulmate from invading his head, just the way Kiyoomi had done after his rejection.

He knew he was being petty, cruel, but he never wanted to chase after people who didn’t want him. Not when he was in middle school, shunned by his peers, not when his haters jeered at him, especially not now when his own soulmate had rejected him.

Everything comes in full circle when Atsumu shows up to MSBY’s recent try outs and comes face to face with the regret and frustration on the face of his soulmate, Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu feels rattled but keeps his composure, even though he can feel his soulmate’s stare heavy on his back.

When the official recruits join their team, Atsumu isn’t surprised that Kiyoomi got in. MSBY would’ve been idiots if they rejected someone as talented as him. The newly reformed team goes out for drinks.

Like any other social groups, their topic gravitates towards soulmates. Atsumu tries not to feel bitter as Meian recounts his meeting with his soulmate, but both of them choose to remain platonic. She was his “best man” at his wedding. Or that Shoyou had always known his soulmate was Kageyama Tobio from their first meeting. Or how Keiji had never told him to shut up during work whenever Koutarou went on mental spiels on their link.

Of course, the conversation lands on Atsumu, because nobody was brave enough to bother Kiyoomi and his vicious, cold glares.

“What about you, Atsumu-san?” Oh so sweet Shoyou asks innocently.

The older members exchange looks. Koutarou outwardly winces. Shoyou looks at them, confused. Atsumu keeps his eyes on his glass, avoiding Kiyoomi’s gaze on him like he’d been doing the whole time.

“He didn’t want me.” Atsumu says offhandedly. At Shoyou’s stunned look, he hurries to say, “ ‘s okay. I don’t want him either. I don’t make a habit of wantin’ people who don’t want me. I made peace with it.”

“Still.” Koutarou pouts. “You’re his soulmate. Aren’t soulmates meant to be? You can’t just reject them!”

Atsumu smiles as he drinks. He meets Kiyoomi’s gaze unwaveringly as he says, “even fate makes mistakes, it seems.”

For the first time that night, Kiyoomi speaks; “Maybe they had their reasons.”

The team looks at him with varying degree of concerns and suspicion. Atsumu chuckles without humor.

“Maybe he did, but I ain’t gonna stick around and find out. I don’t give second chances.” He slams his empty glass on the table, startling everyone.

“That was fun, but imma dip.” He says, standing up. Atsumu lets his gaze roam his new team, but pointedly skips over Kiyoomi. “I gotta help out ‘Samu with his shop tomorrow so I can’t do much fun shit tonight.”

He can tell that Kiyoomi wants to leave, wants to catch up to him and get them to talk. When his soulmate stands, Atsumu brushes past him, completely shutting down any of his attempts.

He’d been hurt once. Never again.

Atsumu doesn’t give second chances, even if it’s his soulmate.

[lyssasdrafts]

i can’t explain it but i feel like the sakuatsu fans are also azris fans

[afyrian]

you may hear the distant sounds of me cheering as the sakusa lovers like ‘talk it out’