vindict



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “I have a boyfriend,” Kiyoomi insists, stubborn. “He’s an Olympian athlete. He’s—big. Everywhere. If you know what I mean.” A pause, and then he repeats, “Everywhere.”

    “Holy fuck,” Atsumu says faintly.

    Atsumu discovers that Six-Drink Kiyoomi has a severe case of facial blindness.

    Language:
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    16 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "Have you even blown someone before?" Atsumu asks cautiously.

    Omi scoffs. "Obviously."

    "No. No, not obviously."

    "I've had sex, Miya."

    Atsumu was basically 60 percent certain this was the case, yet hearing it aloud still rocks his fundamental concept of Omi as a person.

    "Like, a lot of sex?"

    Omi doesn't dignify that with an answer.

    Language:
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    6,534
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    1/1
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    14 Mar 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 38

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    The midday rays of sun stream through their windows, not quite hitting the bed, but casting the room in a light glow where the blinds are only shut three-quarters of the way. It's perfect, Atsumu thinks, because it means he doesn't have to open his eyes all the way to get a good look at the eased, slack-jawed expression on Kiyoomi's face, and it isn't so glaring that it distracts from any of the softness he gets to witness every day.

    Every day, because it's a rare moment that Atsumu ever wakes up after Kiyoomi.

    Language:
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    38
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    13 Mar 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    a vaguely interactive mixture of fic, art, and html, where you too can experience the inherent romance of a big fat jerk and a too-blunt jerk attempting intimacy

    ***

    (this is the result of letting the sakuatsu brainworms really get to you...)

    Language:
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    75
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    13 Mar 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    It's stupid. Atsumu isn't a romantic, no matter how many times he's imagined laying Sakusa out and finally really touching him.

    So there's no explanation for why Atsumu is constantly stuck thinking about brushing his fingertips against the meat of Sakusa's palms or the prominent tendons in his freaky wrists.

    There's no explanation for why doing dishes sets off a warm burn in his ribcage, or why when he smells disinfectant he inhales like he's walking past a bakery.

    Yer doin' this to me, he thinks furiously, as Sakusa derails his thoughts with kisses that come more and more frequently now. Yer conditionin' me, and I can't stop it.

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    1/1
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    13 Mar 2026

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