20 Works by saihate
Listing Works
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Maybe he leaves Blue Lock with hints of confusion, a relationship he’d never expected, a sense of love way too strong for someone like him, but at least there’s one thing he knows.
Otoya is hilarious.
Karasu doesn’t like to show too much emotion in front of others, yet somehow, he finds himself uproaring in laughter every time he’s with him, his stomach begging for relief and his lungs struggling to keep up as Otoya deadpans again. Maybe he just finds him that funny because he’s disgustingly in love. Still, regardless, he knows he’ll have a tear wiping off his face every time they meet, with Otoya so ridiculously humorous and barely knowing it.
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But it’s not just for him; this is their love. Karasu, his light. The even snap of his bones, purest blood that rolls off his skin like rubies, thick head of hair, and lips that carry one mound of ripped flesh and muscle to another. The relentless passion in his eyes as he kisses a dead boy into sleep surrenders as Otoya kisses him hungrily, viciously, even, desperate for the taste of blood off Karasu’s tongue.
Otoya gets the pleasure of picking victims, and he likes to kill them simply as opposed to the brutality that comes after their death, handled by Karasu. Otoya knows what it’s like to be in his skin. When he’s inside him, flesh sunken and a tight fist wrapped around his lungs, he can almost feel his heartbeat by taking the inside of his body.
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Karasu is not much more qualified than Hiori is to be a professional player, but how he clings to him makes him sick.
Otoya can smell it all over him, and he can feel it in every drop running down his skin. Hiori wants him. He’s pretending to be needy and needs help for Karasu’s attention. It’s in the way his eyes glaze over when Karasu gives him feedback, or stutter when Karasu tells him he’s improved.
And Otoya hates it, tasting a dizzy and nausea-inducing rage as he grips his knee, crouched by the corner of the field.
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Crows like shiny things, but Otoya knows Karasu would never want a huge diamond or bright stone, and picks out a plain silver band, of high quality and bearing just a single strip of engraving.
The waiting’s too much— no amount of plane rides or phone calls can satiate how they both feel mutually, knowing that there’ll always be a sense of distance even with their loyalty. Otoya’s proud to tell himself and his therapist how much he’s grown up in the last few years, committed to Roma, and committed even more to Karasu, falling in love every day.
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Otoya hardly listens as Karasu tells him he loves him, loves him, loves him, and loves him, babbling and so far gone that Otoya has to chuckle and kiss him to silence him.
Otoya just can’t help but kiss him, as hard as he can without hurting him, knowing he’s taken Karasu all the way, once and finally his. As he finishes inside, he holds him now by the waist, with too much kindness for all he’s had to do to get Karasu to just listen.
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Every crevice of his body and his insides feel like nothingness. Otoya wasn’t unique, at least; he doesn’t think so. Otoya kissed him the way a boy kisses a girl, innocent, and his touches were tender, making up for the lack of femininity on Karasu’s body with aggression to lay his hands on every inch of skin.
Otoya breathed life into him, holding his hand and kissing his neck in a way that felt true. Rin does nothing. Karasu, to him, is a release of anger, the ability to destroy someone who won’t fight him for the opportunity to do the same. He does not need love here.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,650
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 44
- Hits:
- 581
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“Your body is beautiful,” Rin mumbled into his side, reaching to swipe his fingers broader, creating a widening space for him to pulse back and forth more comfortably. “I love you.” He breathed even slower, slowing his pace to hold Isagi as he rocked him back and forth, sweet kisses pressed on his collarbone.
It seemed that Isagi felt he’d had enough, meeting Rin’s wrist with a light hold to tell him he was ready. Isagi placed a kiss on his forehead, the space where his lips could meet the depths of his hair to soothe him, releasing him of his worries. Here, he was loved. He was enough for him.
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Still, not without Otoya placing a heavy kiss on his lips, drenched hands meeting his neck as the knife’s flat back tilts against his throat, cold and yet comforting.
Otoya doesn’t seem to want the kiss to end, no matter how the body underneath them turns into a distorted position, and the room's smell becomes uglier and uglier. The mess between them worsens as they continue, but it’s theirs. Only, only theirs, depraved and as evil as can be.
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It’s his first time waking up before Otoya does. At least now he’s sure that Otoya stays the night, even when he wakes up earlier than Karasu just to get out of having to meet his damp eyes. When Otoya’s around, all he can do is cry. All he can do is let Otoya milk the strangled and sweet feeling of emptiness constantly in his stomach by giving him small bits of hope. If he stops clinging to Otoya and his words, it’ll probably be a bitter ending for him.
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I didn’t even think Nagi was the type to be interested in something like this. When they fucked, it was normal, vanilla. Nagi being himself would usually have Reo on top, having him do most of the work. He didn’t mind, per se, Nagi was getting off and Reo was getting him off, probably what pleased him the most about it. Nagi’d get to have his fun without having to lift a finger while Reo was eager to please.
But, looking at the girl and looking back at Nagi soundly in their bed, plush sheets covering his arms and sleeping like a baby filled his stomach with warmth. This wasn’t nearly the limit of what he’d do for him.
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Returning next to Karasu, he said, “Y’know, you look a lot like the girl who left this here. She had pretty hair, and she had that same mole.” Eita snuck his hand around Karasu’s waist, much to his fidgeting. He used his free hand to brush through Karasu’s ungelled hair, relishing the way Karasu’s eyes flickered with his movements. He moved his lower hand up Karasu’s back, creeping to switch with his other, resting on top of Karasu’s head. To top it all off, Eita crooked his finger around Karasu’s chin, letting it bring his head up slightly.
Karasu let out a gasp. His whole body was stupidly hot, Otoya was way too close to him and being stupidly touchy, it was all a mess, and as he drifted out of his mind, Otoya was grinning and leaning in closer, meeting Karasu’s closing eyes as he let his lips follow.
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“Okay.” And before Karasu can react or stop him from getting too close, Otoya’s hand is quiet on his chest. Karasu swallows. It’s all silent. Just the soft sounds of Otoya shuffling over the sheets, bringing himself closer as Karasu’s heart begins to beat faster. Otoya can see it in his eyes. He can hide his face, but his body tells. For him, it’s all wrong, he doesn’t let people do this and if they’re close enough everything will crumble, and it’ll end—
Otoya leans in close to Karasu’s ear and breathes softly. “Still trust me?” Karasu chokes. Otoya’s voice isn’t sweet, it scalds and sends shivers down his spine as his hand trails down his back, his other hand inching onto his thighs and reaching for the strap of his robe.
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Tabito pleaded with himself for reason, trying to release his willingness, only to be met with the same desire he’d tucked away per usual.
He couldn’t calculate it. He couldn’t read Otoya at the moment like he always had. To bother trying to understand the nature of someone who’d change his mind with whatever suited him quickest, throwing away what was familiar and letting a spur-of-the-moment break something so easy.
I guess that’s what’s good about you. Shit’s never boring, just normal.
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“Well how strong is he? Stronger than you?” Kaveh mused. It was a teasing subject, though discussing Alhaitham was widely known to be his favorite pastime.
“Of course not.” Cyno folded his hands over his chest, scoffing at the idea.
Cyno gives Alhaitham some less than kind ideas.
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The kind of person Alhaitham is outside of that night doesn’t matter when he gives Cyno control over his peace of mind, stripping himself down in every way he knows.
It’s not much, but he can appreciate the peace and quiet that they share behind a closed door.
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Ibara would not have chosen to be in Yuzuru’s bed tonight.
Happy birthday, Ibara.
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They taste like blood and silver, and yet the taste is so addicting that it is impossible to avoid.
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Eichi Tenshouin could be blamed for almost everything that went wrong at StarPro. Hell, all of Ensemble Square on a bad day. This was especially true today, because there was absolutely no reason as to why Alkaloid had now been demoted from a dorm’s bathroom to a communal shower.
Now, Tatsumi happens to stumble upon Mayoi showering alone, and makes a move.
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A little self doubt leads you into jerking off your boyfriend? Who knew!
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I held the knife. I did not acknowledge that it was there.