Thread by @bakubaji

skts week day 5: NSFW, canon divergent, intimacy, “are you jealous?”
a/b/o, o!sks/o!atsumu, enemies w benefist, confessions
@sktsweek #NSFWSktsWeek2023

Atsumu hated playing against the Adlers. They were fucking hard to beat, but that wasn’t the worst part—if anything,

Atsumu appreciated the occasional challenge. No, the worst part was Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Actually, maybe the worst part was Ushijima Wakatoshi. The worst part was /definitely/ Sakusa Kiyoomi /with/ Ushijima Wakatoshi.

The real issue was that Sakusa Kiyoomi—prickly, antisocial, self-important Sakusa Kiyoomi who Atsumu had liked since /high school/—was all relaxed and comfy and close with Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Atsumu had known Kiyoomi for long enough now to know that he wasn’t exactly close with many people, and even with most of the Adlers he maintained that professional distance. But not with Ushijima. And it drove Atsumu insane.

Even at times like this, with Kiyoomi tangled in Atsumu’s bed sheets, the sweet smell of satisfied omega filling the air, Atsumu couldn’t help but seethe at the memory of Kiyoomi jostling Ushijima’s shoulder after a good spike.

Kiyoomi looked over at him with an unimpressed scowl. “Can you stop already with the growling,” he snapped. “I thought I was here to get laid, not to be the audience to your little one-man, silent soap-opera.”

Atsumu sniffed and moved to straddle him, throwing a thick thigh over his narrow hips and sitting his cunt right over Kiyoomi’s cocklet. “Whatever. You can do both.”

“Well I don’t want to,” Kiyoomi grumbled, hands finding Atsumu’s waist and pulling him down to grind against him. “Focus on me, not whatever dumb volleyball thing you’re thinking about.”

“I’m not thinkin’ about volleyball, idiot. Besides, who said I can’t be pissed off and thinking about ya at the same time? It happens more often than not.”

Kiyoomi heaved a sigh and started to sit up, suddenly pushing Atsumu off of him instead of closer. “I’m not in the mood for this. If you don’t want to fuck, I’ll go find someone else.”

Atsumu’s reaction was all instinct, a wild snarl ripping from his throat as he pinned Kiyoomi back down. His scent was thick and sour around them, and Kiyoomi wrinkled his nose even as he blinked up in shock.

“I’ll fuck ya,” Atsumu growled. “You don’t need anyone else, you don’t need some shitty alpha’s shitty knot. I can treat ya better than he can.”

Kiyoomi’s face shifted from shocked to utterly confounded. “Alpha? Who the hell is /he/? What are you talking about?”
Atsumu bared his teeth. “I see how you are with Ushijima, I’m not blind.”
“Ushi- You think I’m fucking /Wakatoshi/?”

Atsumu tore his eyes away, glaring at the wall instead of meeting Kiyoomi’s incredulous stare. “I think Ushijima’s probably the one doin’ the fuckin’.”

Kiyoomi let out a harsh laugh, and Atsumu barely had time to brace himself before he was being pushed off for real. “Yeah, fuck you, Miya. I’m leaving.”
“What, omega not your taste anymore?” Atsumu sneered, bitter and angry. “Need a big strong alpha to put you in your place?”

Kiyoomi was standing now, naked and flushed with anger? embarrassment? shame? as he found his discarded clothes scattered across the room. “You’re a dick,” he spat, leaning over to pick up his shirt. His back was to Atsumu, but his scent was rancid and turbulent,

distressing enough to have Atsumu’s omega whining.
“Heard that before,” Atsumu snapped. “Running out of insults too?”
Kiyoomi whirled around, and Atsumu was taken aback by the unexpected wetness on his cheeks.

“I’m not wasting my breath on assholes who think they know everything,” Kiyoomi hissed. His cheeks were blotchy. “I don’t owe you my time, and I sure as hell don’t owe you my body. If you wanna waste your time thinking about me and Wakatoshi,

go ahead and jack off to us for all I care, but don’t make your stupid fantasies /my/ problem!”
“So you /are/ sleepin’ with him,” Atsumu scoffed. “Why the hell’d’ya even come here then? A trip down memory lane before ya settle down with some rich alpha, leave it all behind?”

“Are you jealous?” Kiyoomi asked incredulously. “You want Wakatoshi? You can fucking have him, I don’t give a shit!
“I don’t want your shitty alpha,” Atsumu spit, “I want /you/!”

Kiyoomi staggered back like he’d been struck. And then he threw his balled up jeans straight at Atsumu’s face. “You’re such a /dick/!” He screamed, and Atsumu had never been yelled at like this, not by Kiyoomi, but he knew it meant trouble.

Kiyoomi threw his jacket next, followed by his shirt, his underwear, and even his socks. Atsumu thought that would be the end, but Kiyoomi picked up /his/ clothes and started throwing them too.

“God, just- Fuck, stop it already!” Atsumu yelled, arms protecting his face from any wayward zippers.
“/You/ stop it!” Kiyoomi cried. “You selfish, entitled, greedy, narcissistic, piece of /shit/!”

Now, Atsumu knew they were having an argument, he wasn’t /that/ dumb, but when had it escalated to this degree? “What the fuck,” he snapped, “I didn’t do shit?”

“No, you never do, do you? It’s always someone else’s fault, someone else’s problem, someone else’s turn! I’m sick of it! /I/ came onto /you/, remember? I was the one who offered this, you just agreed.

So you don’t get to act like a- a scorned lover because I have a fucking /friend/! If you wanted more, you should’ve /asked/, should’ve brought it up, put your own feelings on the line for once instead of expecting everyone else to humiliate themselves so you never have to!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It /means/,” Kiyoomi spit, stalking forward in a distinctly dangerous way, “if you want me, you should’ve shown me. You should’ve asked me out, courted me, been fucking nice to me for once when it wasn’t just to get off!”

It was Atsumu’s turn to be shocked, staring stupidly at Kiyoomi even as alarms started blaring the closer he got—danger! danger! danger!
“Wh- Are-” Words were failing him for once in his life. “I-if I’d asked, what would you have said?”

It was Atsumu’s turn to be shocked, staring stupidly at Kiyoomi even as alarms started blaring the closer he got—danger! danger! danger!
“Wh- Are-” Words were failing him for once in his life. “I-if I’d asked, what would you have said?”

He looked up to meet Kiyoomi’s red rimmed eyes glaring down at him, hurt and anger and shame warring in their depths. “Yer really not sleepin’ with Ushijima?”

Kiyoomi snarled and yanked his jeans free just to slap them across Atsumu’s face. “If you don’t shut the fuck up about Wakatoshi, I’m walking out right now and you will /never/ see me like this again.”

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” Atsumu scrambled to apologize. His heart was beating double time in his throat. “You… Omi. Kiyoomi. Do ya like me?”
Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes. “Not right now, I don’t. And that’s not how you ask.”

“Sorry,” Atsumu cleared his throat nervously. “I’ll go again. Kiyoomi, I really like ya. I’ve liked ya forever, and I didn’t- I didn’t think ya wanted me the same way I wanted you. But… But if ya do- Omi, if ya like me the same, would ya let me court ya?”

Kiyoomi glared at him for long enough that Atsumu choked up a little, wondering if he’d read things very wrong. But then those jeans were being thrown at him again and by the time he untangled them from his face, Kiyoomi was crawling across the bed to him with a pout on his face.

“Yeah,” he muttered, tossing all the clothes off the bed so he could take their place on Atsumu’s lap instead. He buried his face against Atsumu’s scent gland, hiding out of sight.

“But you need to work on your shit. And talk about things instead of just thinking about them until you convince yourself they’re someone else’s issues.”

“Christ, Omi, can’t ya just send notes to my therapist instead?”
“I’ll do that too. And you need to be nice to Wakatoshi. He’s a good friend.”
Atsumu huffed unhappily, and Kiyoomi didn’t spare any strength smacking the back of his head.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry. I was jealous, seein’ the two of ya so close when the only time ya look at me twice is when we’re fuckin’. Thought maybe ya wanted that: an alpha, someone on your team, in yer city. It’d be easier, wouldn’t it?”

Kiyoomi scoffed. “Maybe, if I could get it up for an alpha. I told you before, I like omegas. /Only/ omegas. And I like you, against my better judgment. So I don’t care if you’re further away or if you’re a stupid little egoist or if there are ‘easier’ options. I want you.”

Atsumu pouted at him until Kiyoomi sighed and dipped lower, close enough for Atsumu to press their lips together in a long but chaste kiss. “I like ya so much,” he murmured. “Sorry for makin’ you cry.”

“Whatever,” Kiyoomi dismissed. Then he wiggled his hips a little and Atsumu sucked in a breath. “You can make it up to me,” Kiyoomi whispered. “I think you interrupted something earlier.”
“Oh. Oh! Really? Ya still wanna?”

Kiyoomi let out a weary sigh, took Atsumu’s face between his hands, and forced him to meet his gaze. “/Yes/, I /wanna/. Atsumu. I want you to sit on my face and finger me until I’m crying into your cunt. /Then/ I’ll forgive you for all the stupid shit you just said.”

“Oh.” Atsumu flushed red when the smell of slick filled the air, all ripe peach and sweet honey. He’d have been more embarrassed if Omi didn’t respond just the same, his scent of grapefruit and ginger flowers sweetening as he ground down a little on Atsumu’s lap.

“Well?” Kiyoomi asked, breathing the question across Atsumu’s lips. They were both still naked, the bitterness fading rapidly from their scents to make room for their arousal.
“Yeah,” Atsumu agreed eagerly, craning up for another kiss. “Yes, I want ya so bad.”

Kiyoomi smiled down at him and it felt like a victory, like a whole stadium cheering him on. Atsumu opened his lips as soon as Kiyoomi bent down to kiss him.

He’d kissed Kiyoomi… God, enough times now that he’d lost count, but it was still just as dizzying as the first time. Kiyoomi held him still with one hand, the other wandering down between their legs.

Atsumu tensed in anticipation, but Kiyoomi didn’t touch him at all, teasing his own little cocklet and clit instead. Atsumu whined into the kiss, his own hands locked on Kiyoomi’s hips, not moving until he was told.

For all of Kiyoomi’s cleanliness, he was a /messy/ kisser, wet and sloppy and not afraid of teeth or tongues. Atsumu felt like he was drowning everytime they kissed, in the best of ways.

This time, Kiyoomi didn’t let him drown for long though. Before Atsumu was satisfied, he was pulling back, prying Atsumu’s hands off himself, and lying back amongst Atsumu’s pillows, dragging Atsumu forward by the chin. “You ready?”

“Y-yeah,” Atsumu murmured, crawling forward until he was hovering over Kiyoomi, shifting to straddle his face, biting his lip as he looked down at him. Kiyoomi’s eyes were dark and lidded, flickering between Atsumu’s bared cunt and his face, lingering on everything in between.

The smell of his arousal was thick in the air, twining with Atsumu’s scent in a dizzying perfume. Kiyoomi caught his gaze and held it as he reached up for Atsumu’s hips and pulled them down until there was just a sliver of air between his wet cunt and Kiyoomi’s mouth.

“Can you reach?” Kiyoomi asked, the warmth of his breath and the movement of his lips making Atsumu gasp. Carefully, Atsumu leaned back, arms behind him, and trailed his palms down the length of Kiyoomi’s torso until he found his hips.

He kept one hand balanced on Kiyoomi’s upper thigh for support, and the other moved lower, knuckles brushing Kiyoomi’s cock before reaching the warmth of his pussy.

“Good?” he asked breathily, spreading Kiyoomi’s folds with his fingertips, circling the rim of his cunt but not pressing in. His palm brushed against his clit and cock, but he didn’t put any pressure yet.

Kiyoomi didn’t bother answering with words, he just hummed in satisfaction, pulled Atsumu’s hips to his face, and began to feast.
Just like he kissed, Kiyoomi ate pussy with no regard to neatness or finesse.

He lost himself in it, heart and soul, as he licked and lapped and suckled Atsumu’s swollen clit and dripping lips. Atsumu had a small cunt, he couldn’t take much without a lot of stretching, so Kiyoomi’s tongue was /perfect/ inside him,

filling him and teasing at his sensitive spots in just the right way, Kiyoomi’s lips suctioned around him, drinking down his slick as Atsumu ground down on his tongue.
Atsumu trembled when Kiyoomi pulled off and out with a wet /pop/.

“Touch me, baby,” Kiyoomi rasped, and then he was diving back in, and Atsumu was crying out, moaning at the ceiling as his fingers fumbled to make sense of Kiyoom’s cunt.

Maybe he should’ve turned around so he could see what he was doing, but he liked seeing Kiyoomi’s eyelids flutter lazily as he ate him out.

Atsumu didn’t waste time before pushing two fingers knuckle deep into Kiyoomi’s cunt, and the moan he let out against Atsumu’s clit made his thighs shake.

“Just like that,” Atsumu sighed, riding Kiyoomi’s mouth as he curled and thrusted his fingers inside him. Kiyoomi’s hips were twitching too, driving his cock and clit into Atsumu’s palm with every grind. “So good, Omi, darlin’- Fuck.”

Kiyoomi couldn’t talk with his mouth buried between Atsumu’s trembling thighs, but he could moan and whimper against his cunt as Atsumu toyed with his pussy, high off the sound and smell of their pleasure and desire filling the room.

The bed was going to be filthy by the time they finished, Atsumu though absently, taking in the slick drenching Kiyoomi’s face and the spit on the inside of his own thighs.

He could feel just how wet Kiyoomi was too, and he wasn’t helping matters, driving three fingers in and out, feeling the slick spurt out around his fingers every time.

“Omi,” he moaned, “want ya to come for me. Please, please, come on, darlin’.” He could feel Kiyoomi’s cocklet twitching in his palm, his cunt pulsing around his fingers like a heartbeat, and Kiyoomi’s eyes were rolled back as he sucked and licked at Atsumu’s folds.

He’d gone silent, and Atsumu could see his face getting red. The realization that Kiyoomi was literally breathless, depriving himself of air for another taste of Atsumu, had Atsumu keening, his supporting hand digging into kiyoomi’s thigh hard enough to bruise,

his other hand increasing its pace ruthlessly.
“Come on,” Atsumu panted. He wanted Kiyoomi to come first, wanted him to spill onto his stomach, gush around Atsumu’s fingers, and then keep suffocating himself in Atsumu’s cunt until he was soaked in slick and cum and tears,

and /then/ Atsumu would come.
Kiyoomi made a noise, muffled against Atsumu’s dripping pussy, and his mouth grew slack for a moment. Atsumu moaned even despite the break in suction, hopelessly aroused by the sudden flow of slick around his fingers as Kiyoomi came.

“Oh, /good/ Omi, so good for me, darlin’.”
Kiyoomi whined, long and sweet, and slowly booted back up, mouth opening in a wet, messy kiss to Atsumu’s cunt.

Atsumu looked down at him adoringly, fingers still stroking his walls with no reprieve, and had to bite his lip to keep from coming at the sight of the big, fat tears leaking from Kiyoomi’s hazy eyes.

More than arousal, Kiyoomi smelled /content/: a hazy kind of satisfied that only came about when one’s omega felt truly safe, relaxed, cared for. In the end, that’s what pushed Atsumu over the edge too, Kiyoomi’s name on his lips.

He’d been so caught up in what he didn’t have, what he couldn’t offer Kiyoomi as an omega, as someone without much of a family name and no family fortune, that he’d forgotten about what he /could/ offer, what he regularly gave willingly.

No one could take care of Kiyoomi like he could, he knew that for a fact. And now, no one would have the chance to try.

Atsumu rode out the last waves of his orgasm on Kiyoomi’s mouth, his fingers hooked in Kiyoomi’s cunt, making the other omega whimper in over sensitivity. As his limbs regained function, Atsumu slowly lifted himself up, hazy eyes fixed on Kiyoomi’s desperate gaze.

Threads of slick and spit stretched between their respective lips, and pulling off revealed the full mess Kiyoomi had made of himself. His cheeks were flushed and drenched with Atsumu’s juices, a splatter of cum painted across the bridge of his nose.

Atsumu could only imagine how swollen his own cunt must be just based on how cherry red Kiyoomi’s lips were.

He groaned as he swung his leg off of Kiyoomi, easing his fingers free with a last, soothing stroke that made Kiyoomi twitch. Maybe it was poor taste, but he couldn’t help but bring his slicked up hand to Kiyoomi’s mouth, petting his lips until he opened up.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, watching Kiyoomi suckle his own cum from Atsumu’s hand, those big, dark eyes still glued to Atsumu, still slowly dripping tears. “Yer perfect, Omi, love. I’ll take care of ya, I promise. I won’t let ya regret this.”

His free hand stroked Kiyoomi’s cheek, careless of the mess left on it. Kiyoomi leaned into the touch, eyelids fluttering as his warm mouth suckled at Atsumu’s fingers.

“Okay?” Atsumu whispered, scratching gently at Kiyoomi’s scalp and slowly easing his hand free. “How’re ya feelin’, love?”

Kiyoomi took a minute to respond, taking his time breathing deeply now that his mouth was finally unoccupied. His gaze never once left Atsumu’s.
“I forgive you,” he finally said, a hint of a smile on the corner of his lips. “Feels good.”

Atsumu hummed softly and leaned down for a kiss. “Y’wanna get cleaned up? Or go again?”

Kiyoomi chuckled, making Atsumu’s lips press to the flat of his teeth. “Shower. And if you change the sheets and make it in before I finish, we can go for a second round.” His voice was ragged, proof of how he’d made Atsumu fall apart with his tongue.

Atsumu shivered, a thread of latent arousal already coiling up again in his gut. He patted Kiyoomi on the cheek—both of them cringed at the sticky flakiness of drying slick—and forced himself to his feet. “Go on, then. I’ll be in before ya even miss me.”

“I never miss you, Miya,” Kiyoomi scoffed, but Atsumu knew now that it was toothless.
“When I’m done, you’ll be callin’ me baby again,” he promised, greeting Kiyoomi with a kiss when he stood as well.

He couldn’t help but sneak a hand down to grab a fistful of Kiyoomi’s ass while they were there, and he pulled him closer into another kiss, not minding his own taste on his tongue when he had Kiyoomi in his arms like this.

He didn’t think about just how long he’d been stuck wanting, stuck craving Kiyoomi like he was some unattainable star instead of a person he had learned like the back of his hand.

He’d have time to ruminate later, to realize all the opportunities he’d missed and time he’d wasted being stubborn and blind. But for now…
“Omi,” he whispered. “I really, really like ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kiyoomi murmured, but his scent was light and happy and warm, a hint of a purr rumbling against Atsumu’s chest. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

In the end, Atsumu finished changing the sheets in record time, and got to the shower to find Kiyoomi slowly teasing himself, smiling when Atsumu froze at the sight, eyes dropping hungrily.

Atsumu bruised his knees returning the favor then, and Kiyoomi pinned him to the shower wall after and fingered him until his knees gave out.

Afterwards, they stumbled together back into Atsumu’s clean, dry bed, their sweet scents seeping into the sheets and blankets, making an accidental nest just for the two of them.

Whenever the Jackals played the Adlers, no matter what city they were in, Atsumu and Kiyoomi spent every night together, sometimes lost in pleasure, other times just lost in each other.

When the season ended, Atsumu opened the door to his apartment to fina Kiyoomi standing outside, a suitcase in one hand, a bag if takeout in the other. He held the bag out like a peace offering, unnecessary since Atsumu was already moving aside to let him in.

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Atsumu asked, taking the food so Kiyoomi could get his shoes off.

Kiyoomi hesitated for a moment before he spoke. “I’m leaving the Adlers,” he said slowly. Atsumu’s heart stopped. “I have another offer. Um. Pay’s the same, job’s the same. Different city, though.”

“Oh,” Atsumu murmured, brain flying through every team he could think of. Was Kiyoomi leaving Japan? Would they not play each other anymore?

Kiyoomi cleared his throat, drawing Atsumu’s attention back as he unzipped his coat. And revealed a black jersey, golden claw marks cutting diagonally across the chest, a white number 15 printed right in the middle.

Atsumu stared. Blinked and rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, and then stared some more. Then his eyes snapped up to Kiyoomi’s face, blank with cautious nerves.
“Y-ya mean it? Yer joinin’ the Jackals? Yer comin’ to me?”

Kiyoomi chewed on his lip and nodded. “I thought… I have to find a place to live here. I hoped I could stay with you while I looked. Or maybe just… stay?”

Atsumu didn’t answer, he was too busy flinging himself at Kiyoomi, wrapping around him like he wanted to /become/ him. “Stay, stay, stay,” he pleaded, marking each word with a kiss. “Stay with me.”

“Don’t cry, dummy,” Kiyoomi whispered, wrapping his arms around Atsumu to keep him up, slowing him down to kiss away his tears. “And remember, this is my grand gesture. Next one’s on you.”

“I’ll literally marry ya,” Atsumu swore, burying his face in Kiyoomi’s neck to breathe him in. “Gold or silver? I’ll buy a ring tomorrow if you say you’ll marry me.”

Kiyoomi laughed, breathless and relieved and /in love/. “Not right now, it’s still my turn. Ask me if we win the championship.

“I’ll win it for ya.”
“/We’ll/ win it /together/.”
Atsumu was going to spend the rest of his life with this man.

~end~

omegas in love… how horny kjdhfdsk. i love them

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https://twitter.com/bakubaji/status/1621579070344499202

day 4:

https://twitter.com/bakubaji/status/1621192195469369351