a mini something for @oholivie ♡ thank you so much again for the kofi ♡
➢ Pick An Outfit For Me
↳ Kiyoko Shimizu | Yachi Hitoka | Kenma Kozume | Matsukawa Issei | Suna Rintaro | Atsumu Miya |
Warnings } A swear word, pet names, fluff, implied F!Reader
A/N: Lmao, my apologizes for being silent for months
[Blog Master List]
May I present to you: super sexy driver atsumu
- the times he’s behind the wheel are some of the only times you see him quiet and serious
- especially if you’re the car with him because “yer a precious piece of cargo babe”
- he’s actually a really good driver and takes care of his car
- he passed his driving test before osamu and bullied him about it relentlessly (their fights were much worse for those few months until samu eventually passed lmao)
- imagine atsumu’s massive hands dwarfing the sterring wheel asjdjfks
- likes to rest his huge palm on your thigh and squeezes it SO tight
- he has a playlist full of embarrassing songs he likes to sing really loudly in the car
- the first time he put it on with you in the car he felt so ashamed until you began belting out the lyrics to dancing queen with him
- definitely puts his arm behind your headrest to reverse and flexes his biceps whilst he does it 🙄
- then when he’s turning to face forward again his fingers gently brush against your neck AGDHFJSJA
- he gets quiet road rage, like he doesn’t yell but instead frowns and mutters under his breath
- but when someone cuts him off his hand on your thigh grips a little tighter and it makes you squirm
- if he’s dropping you off somewhere he definitely winds the window down and yells something after you as you’re walking away
- usually it’s something sweet like “call me when you want picking up, love ya!”
- but sometimes if he’s feeling particularly annoying it’s “yer ass looks real good in those jeans sweet cheeks”
- you end up running back to smack him over the head but he’s grinning the whole time, he’s so ANNOYING
- but I love him I guess 🙄
See you there
"where are you running off to?" [nsfw]
note: crawling or moving away from hq boys while they’re going to pound town. this is definitely not self-indulgent I just think the phrase is extremely hot
warnings: dubcon, hair pulling, manhandling, vulgar language, degradation, slapping, choking, spit roasting, mentions of implied female body parts
featuring: iwaizumi, bokuto, kuroo, tsukishima, oikawa, kageyama, atsumu
bokuto, who a man of his size, often forgets just how strong he is. what doesn't help is his never wavering stamina to go with it. his grasp on your hips is firm and surely is going to leave bruises behind. he pounds into you loud and messy, the sound of skin on skin drowning out your whimpering and crying. each time he slams back into you, your breath is knocked out of your system. "k-kou, 'is too much!" you squirm, wiggling away from his body. you attempt to push at his thighs and the frosted-tipped-haired man grumbles, quickly pulling you back so your ass is flush against him. when you try to move away again, he simply pulls your body up before turning you around so you're now facing him. you think he's finally listening to you but then he takes your legs and throws them over his shoulders. pressing them up further to your chest so that you are in a mating press, he groans when he sinks back into you. there's an obscene squelch from how wet and messy the two of you are and you can’t help but clench around him. he bites and nibbles on your ear before saying, "baby, don't be difficult. let me fuck you like how I know you need to be fucked, okay?"
atsumu who gets antsy at a team dinner because he can’t get over how beautiful you look. from the minute you stepped in you have had several people turning their heads to look at you. he’s very proud of having you as his significant other and puffs out his chest, bragging about you to whoever he can whenever because he knows he’s lucky. but eventually he starts to get pouty when he feels like eyes have been lingering on you for too long. the setter politely announces you two need to leave early, only for him to drag you inside the backseat of his car to fuck you out of possessiveness. your legs are over his shoulders as he rams into you. eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly. but after both of you cum once, atsumu’s pace doesn’t falter. it’s clear you both are too sensitive right now but he ignores that. you find yourself scooting your shaking upper body towards the door and against the window. atsumu only pouts before he grabs your neck and pins you even harder to the seat. "w-why are ya trying to run away? depriving me of ma pussy is so rude baby. its mine, right? and this fat cock is nobody’s but yers, so just sit tight and take it.”
oikawa taunts you for whining and saying that "it's too much". he prides himself in the fact that he knows his dick is a lot to handle but he also prides himself in knowing that you're a slutty whore who can take whatever, and whoever-even his best friend at the same time as him. you didn't know that iwaizumi had been watching the two of you fuck. and you didn't know that oikawa brought him to join you two. that’s how you find yourself stuffed and filled with two cocks. both men relieving their stress by using you. oikawa takes your sweet ass and iwa fills your pretty mouth up with his delicious cock. the athletic trainer grunts as he fucks your mouth, blessed that at least once he could experience what it felt like. oikawa’s eyes are zeroed in on your cunt and how you suck him in. you feel so full and overwhelmed that you try to move back from both men. your restlessness doesn’t go unoticed by oikawa and he slaps your ass. “don’t move, not until all your holes have been stuffed full.” the setter snaps. he thrusts so hard into you from behind that you end up taking more of iwa in your throat. he moans loudly at the motion and the gagging come from your mouth. he then laughs and tilts your head up so you’re looking at him before saying, “yeah princess-mmhm fuck-don’t run away. it’s rude not to finish your meal.”
kuroo who absolutely gets drunk off of watching the two of you fuck in front of the mirror. he loves seeing and hearing all the cries and whimpers that come out of you, and bursts of pride run through him because he knows he’s the cause of it. but one thing that will drive him absolutely insane is eye contact. when he looks at you through the mirror while balls deep in your cunt, he can’t help but move his hips faster. harder. this motion causes you to cry out and attempt to move away from him due to how harsh he is. kuroo only scowls before he grabs you by your hair and pulls your body flush to his chest. your back arches against him and he doesn’t hesitate to ruthlessly drive into you so that you’re seeing stars. the fucking is obscenely loud but he doesn’t hesitate to bend down and say into your ear, “where are you going? i’m not done with you yet. not until you get to fully see how fucked dumb you can be from my cock. that’ll teach you not to run away from me.”
kageyama who came home from practice still high on adrenaline. you’re making dinner in the kitchen and greet him sweetly when he comes to say hi. something is odd about the way he is unusually quiet. that confusion is quickly gone once you feel him slither his arms around your waist, hard on pressing into your back. next thing you know, you’re bent over the kitchen counter whining out pleas of, “slow down tobio” and, “too much too much!” while he’s pounding your ass. you try to squirm your way from between him and the surface and feel his grip on your hips tighten before pinning you harder against the counter. now you could really feel every inch of his cock inside of you. kageyama whines and buries his head in your neck, kissing the sensitive skin. he shuts his eyes tight as the only thing he can think of is your addicting cunt and it’s warmth. “baby please, need to feel all of you. need to be buried so deep in your pretty pussy. you can let me have this, yea? don’t runaway, need to be as close to you as possible. gonna fill you up so good.”
tsukishima who cant stand how annoyingly attractive you are. it’s much worse over time as your relationship has established because you know exactly how to rile him up. so when you show up to one of his volleyball practices for the sendai frogs, short skirt and thigh highs, flirting with everyone in plain sight–he sees red. he’s eerily quiet on the drive home, neither talking nor looking at you at all. when you reach the front door you feel bad by that point and open your mouth to apologize. “i-” “shut the fuck up.” he snaps. the next few events happen fast when he’s storming over to you, carrying and throwing you onto your shared bed. he pulls your underwear to the side, pushing his shorts and briefs to his ankles before sheathing into you hard. his hulking figure consumes you and it’s all too much for your senses, causing you to babble and cry. you try to discreetly scoot yourself up in the bed so he won’t notice but freeze when you hear a cold chuckle and harsh yank on your body. “who the fuck said you could runaway? brats like you need to fully take their punishment. stay fucking still or i’m gonna fuck your ass so hard you’ll be struggling to remember how to walk.”
do not copy and or repost. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated though. (c) 2022 hyque
some tsumie sketch bc I miss him
𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 - 𝐟𝐭. 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐤𝐢
tags: afab! reader, degradation, praise, daddy kink, hair pulling, slight public sex, size kink, mentions of nudes + fucking in front of a mirror
# bro i literally came while writing the suna one hes so hot 😞🙏
# atsumu miya
♡ bro hes so cocky
♡ will say “uh huh?” or “yeah?” almost every time you moan
♡ he’s so needy though — he’d shove his whole mfing cock in your poor pussy right away if he could
♡ he’d fuck you anywhere and anytime you wanted
♡ man sometimes pulls you aside at parties when you look fine as fuck just to make you squirt all over him
♡ absolutely in love when you try to stop yourself from being so loud but you can’t help it his dick is just too big :(
+ “come on” atsumu grumbled while grabbing your wrist, dragging you desperately through the sea of people. he pulled you into a small laundry room and pushed you up against a washing machine. your arms rested on the top of the machine, your hips innocently grinding on his hard cock — although, it wasn’t quite as innocent as you had led to believe. “what’s up ‘tsumu?” you questioned, acting clueless. he let out a sharp laugh. “fuck babygirl you know,” his hand wandered down the curve of your ass, “i gotta fuck this pussy right now” you smiled and your eyes look up at him pleading through your eyelashes. “yes please daddy” you bite your lip as your hands pull up your short dress, your bare pussy out. he chuckled breathily at the given pet name and unzipped his jeans. “fucking whore”
# suna rintaro
♡ OK EVERYONE THINKS HE’S LAZY BUT I THINK HE ACTUALLY REALLY LOVES MAKING YOU FEEL GOOD
♡ < nudes 3 he will send you a video of him moaning your name like almost every day
♡ secretly horny as fuck and will fuck you literally whenever he wants
♡ HAIR PULLINGGGG omg it doesnt matter the length, he will pull it no matter what
♡ doggy is his fav because he can pull your hair and hold your arms back
♡ fucking you in front of the mirror is his fav thing ever because he likes making you watch yourself cum
+ “r-rin- feels so good” you cried, hardly able to hold yourself up from the intensity of suna’s thrusts. “yeah? you’re taking my cock so well arent you?” his fingers laced themselves through your hair before pulling you up harshly so he could whisper in your ear, “you’re such a pretty slut for me” your eyes rolled back, hand going straight for your throbbing clit but he slapped your hand away. he let go of your hair to grab your wrists instead. the position change was deeper than before, a strained moan falling from your lips. “r-rin fuck” you sobbed. he laughed meanly but it was interrupted by a pool of pleasure forming in his stomach. he threw his head back, your fluttering cunt eliciting a low groan. “god you got me fucked up baby”
# osamu miya
♡ his fav position absolutely loves cowgirl
♡ he likes when you ride him its so cute seeing you struggle to fuck yourself on him
♡ he also rly likes missionary. he’s not vanilla he just likes to see your face twist in pleasure when he puts it in
♡ he likes seeing how much you love getting stretched out by his cock, even if you dont say it
♡ although its not like you could, you already get so fucked out from how big he is
+ “s-samu please” you squealed, crossing you legs in pleasure. his eyes watched your eyelashes flutter and your pretty mouth fall open. “thats it pretty baby,” he bit his lip, tensing up, “so gorgeous like that” he could honestly cum right there and then from just praising you. his thumbed at your poor clit which in turn made you grip his forearm and digging your fingernails into his skin. “s-samu don’t i- please you’re g-gonna make me cum” you sobbed. your back arched to the sound of him moaning loudly at your cunt clenching around him. “come on lovely, cum all over me. you’re doing so good all for me”
© 2022 sunaslvt. please do not plagiarise, repost or translate any of my works and layouts and do copy onto any other sites.
Atsumu Miya Always Delivers
WARNINGS: 18+ (NSFW) (MDNI), f!reader x Miya Atsumu, oral (m!receiving & f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), recording, squirting (multiple times), use of pet name (pretty and baby), unprotected sex.
interactions (comments, likes and reblogs) are much appreciated! ♥︎
Atsumu looks away, crossing his arms over his chest with a deep, offended scowl on his usually playful expression. That just makes you laugh even harder, actually clutching your abdomen in hopes that it would somehow decrease the ache in your stomach from laughing so much.
“I really don’t see what’s so funny about it,” Atsumu grumbles, his brow furrowing even more.
You do your best to contain your laughter, wiping a single tear that has rolled down your cheek. You steady your breathing, looking at him with watery eyes. Atsumu pouts, making you snicker, which makes him glare at you from the corner of his eye.
“Did you really just say that you’d make me ‘scream and cum like a pornstar’?” you ask, pressing your lips into a thin line to suppress your laughter.
Atsumu had been away for a couple days; he usually has to travel thanks to his games. So of course as soon as he got home, he attacked your lips hungrily and was ready to have some action, which was interrupted by your unstoppable laughter when he had muttered those words. Maybe he had gotten a little carried away, but they had sounded good in his head. They still do.
Atsumu glances at you, turning his body further away from you.
“…Yeah,” he admits in a mumble. You snort again, shaking your head. “So?”
“So, you know it’s fake, right?”
He frowns, looking forward. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again, his voice low.
“…No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Uh-huh, it is!”
Atsumu scoffs again, turning on the couch to face you.
You pause, studying his face for a moment. He actually believes porn’s 100% real. It’s your turn to huff, although yours comes out condescendingly.
“It’s acting. I mean, real bad acting, but it’s still acting.”
“Not with me, it wouldn’t be,” he retorts, narrowing his eyes at you.
You raise your eyebrows.
He smirks, looking at you through hooded eyes.
“I have plenty of reasons to be.”
You cock an eyebrow at him, turning in your spot so you’d be face to face on the couch.
Atsumu’s smirk turns cocky, and he relaxes back in his seat as he places his arms behind his head. He knows what he has to offer, and you should be awfully aware of it. After all, he makes you scream his name more than three times a week.
“Hmm, I haven’t heard any complaints,” he says, shrugging.
You bite on your lip, eyeing him curiously. Atsumu isn’t one to lie about his abilities, and you experience them personally in bed pretty often. Still, it’s ridiculous he thinks he can make it look like porn; they exaggerate everything so bad I’s not even enjoyable to watch.
But if he’s offering…? What’s the worse thing that can happen? If anything, you’d be getting a good fuck out of it, even if you didn’t ‘scream and came like a pornstar’, to quote him.
However, you enjoy teasing him —which is extremely easy to do—, so you won’t let him know that you’re actually on board. You know him so well, know just what buttons to press to get him to do your every bid.
So, you give him your best exaggerated scoff, with an also exaggerated roll of your eyes, and cross your arms across your chest. Atsumu glances at you, eyes narrowing.
“Not yet,” you mumble, loud enough for him to hear.
You swear you actually see his eye twitch slightly.
Atsumu tightens his lips, pulling you by the neck towards him and forcing a loud, surprised gasp out of you. You bite your lip, instinctively kicking your leg over his lap to straddle him.
He looks at your caged lip, smirking softly as your breaths mix with each exhalation.
“You really don’t believe I can do it?” he asks, running his hands up and down your legs. His smirk widens when he feels goosebumps under the pads of his fingers.
“No. But I would love to see you try,” you say.
Atsumu’s eyes darken, hand smacking your ass harshly. You jolt on top of him, letting out a yelp. Your hands fly up to his shoulders for support, blushing at your own reaction. His smile turns wolfish.
“I am going to fuck you until you’re screaming and cumming like a pornstar,” he promises in a whisper. And if there’s something you can always count on with Atsumu, it’s that he always delivers.
You can’t stop yourself from picturing all the things he could do to you to get you to that point, and you feel the all too familiar heat between your legs, which only increments when you become extremely aware of Atsumu’s half-hard cock pressed right against you.
His eyes light up with mischief, and he ignores the question in your eyes as he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. If he’s going to do it; he’ll do it right. So he sets you down on the bed, steps away and pulls his phone out of his pocket. You frown as you watch him position the phone on the desk, piling up a couple books until he’s satisfied with the angle. Once ready, he presses the red button and gives you a childlike grin when he hears the sound that indicates the phone has started recording. From that moment on, he’d always have the best reminder of what happened.
“Atsumu,” you say behind him, a hint of disapproval in your voice.
You’re not exactly surprised —already used to Atsumu’s antics and strange impulses—, but you don’t want another video. Especially not after he accidentally sent the last one to his brother instead of you. You still remember how he bolted out the door, driving like a mad man to Osamu’s place to ‘borrow’ his phone so he could delete the video. Thankfully, Osamu usually ignores Atsumu’s texts unless it’s some kind of emergency (and no, Atsumu running out of hair dye is not an emergency, like he’s told him multiple times).
“I’ll be careful this time,” he says, lifting his hand with his palm facing forward in a promise.
And of course he will be, because he doesn’t plan on anyone watching such art besides himself. It’s just a little gift for himself, for when he has to leave. He misses you terribly when he’s away, and the videos help, even if just a little.
He takes off his jacket along with his shirt, tossing them to the floor carelessly. His pants follow soon after, and he walks towards the bed, eyes never leaving yours. He enjoys watching you squeezing your legs together expectantly, betting you’re already wet for him. And you can’t ignore the tent in his underwear. He’s just as needy for you as you are for him.
Atsumu bites on his lip, stroking your cheek with his digits as you look up to his half-naked form, eyes hungrily roaming his body. He leans in, brushing his lips against yours.
“You ready to have the best night of your life?” he asks.
“Hmm… we’ll see about that,” you reply, your voice just as hushed as his. You’re pretty sure Atsumu’s also exaggerating a little; after all, he’s the biggest showoff.
He traces your throat with his fingers and pulls you by the nape of your neck to press his lips against yours in a slow, seductive kiss. It’s tender, soft, and oh-so-heavenly. You melt against him, surprised by his gentleness as he lowers his other hand to brush his fingers softly along your figure. What kind of porn does he watch? This definitely doesn’t seem like anything you’ve ever seen.
Atsumu has a plan, though. Well, not a fully thought-out plan, but he has the idea of one. He knows your body like the back of his hand; he knows the right places to apply pressure, how hard he has to pinch, how fast he has to go. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t have you crying by the end of the night, and he decides to make that promise to himself. If that doesn’t happen, then his name isn’t Atsumu Miya.
You gasp softly against his lips, and he takes it as his cue to slide his fingers under the elastic of your shorts. He pinches on your hip lightly, playing with the band of your underwear.
“Stand up, pretty. Let me see that beautiful body of yours.”
You get up in a second, your hands pressed flat against his chest. Atsumu pushes your shorts down, getting rid of your shirt and bra afterwards. He groans softly at the sight before him, unable to keep his hands to himself as they roam your body freely, because you’re his, and he’ll do as he pleases with you.
He marvels at how soft your skin feels under his touch, your ass jiggling when he spanks you once more. You gasp, making him chuckle when you dig your fingers in his shoulders.
However, you notice that his actions are a little more hesitant than usual. Had what you said really affected him so much? Is the great Atsumu Miya doubting himself? Part of you feels a little guilty, but he doesn’t give you much time to dwell on the thought, pulling you closer by the hips and thrusting his own forward, grunting.
“We should do something about this, shouldn’t we?” he murmurs, cocking his head to the side. He pulls on the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin before sliding them down your legs and letting it pool around your ankles. “Now be a good girl and get on your knees.”
Atsumu waits as you do so, palming himself over his boxers. You look up at him, and he almost moans at the sight. His cock throbs at the thought of your pretty dark pink lips wrapped around him, sucking him dry. He cocks an eyebrow, looking at you expectantly. Catching on, you raise your hands to his waist, pulling his boxers down his legs and practically salivating as his cock springs out, tip glistening with pre-cum.
He traces your lips with his thumb, groaning when you wrap your lips around it and suck on his pad, swirling your tongue around it. Atsumu grabs his shaft, pumping it twice to smear his own liquid along his length, edging just a tad closer to you. He taps the tip of his cock lightly against your cheek.
“Open up,” he instructs.
You do as instructed, putting your tongue out so he can press himself against it. He sighs when the warmth of your mouth envelopes his member, a pleased expression on his face as you use your tongue to lick his cock, your hand wrapped around his base and pumping with the right amount of pressure.
“Mmm, Tsumu,” you sigh against his soft skin, his brow furrowing, and he lets out a low moan as you pushed yourself deeper.
Atsumu has been patient, but he’s done playing nice. He’s on a mission, after all. After a moment where you dedicate yourself to please him sweetly with your mouth, Atsumu grabs onto the back of your head to hold you still and pushes his hips against your face, making you gag around him as he reaches the back of your throat with his tip. He groans, fingers curling in your hair as he pushes your face against him until you take him fully.
Your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, watering with effort as you try to push him back. Atsumu doesn’t allow you to, his hands keeping you in place.
“I know you can take it, don’t pretend. You’ve done it before,” he says, pulling back and then pushing back in, thrusting slowly as he fucks your mouth. He twitches inside you at the mental picture of painting your face with his cum, but he decides against it. He has to hold his own orgasm for as long as he can. “Ah, just like that, pretty,” he sighs, biting his lip at the filthy noises filling the room.
You clamp your fingers on the flesh of his thighs, part of you wanting to stop for a second to breathe while the other part wants him to keep going until he releases his load down your throat. You moan, and Atsumu throws his head back as it vibrates through him.
“You like this, don’t you?” he gasps, forcing you to take him whole once more and keeping you still with your nose against his lower abdomen. “You like it when I fuck your face? You dirty girl.”
You moan again, squeezing your thighs together. Atsumu fucks your mouth for a little longer; not long enough for him to cum, but long enough for your knees to ache under your own weight.
He curses when you suck hard on him, cheeks hollowing deeply as you look up at him with innocent eyes. He almost laughs out loud; how dare you? How dare you look at him like that, so sweet and innocent with his cock in your mouth?
He has to pull out completely to avoid cumming at once, grinning down at you as he holds the base of his cock tightly. Your chin is wet with your own spit, and his grin widens when he thinks about how much messier he’ll look himself after he goes down on you. He’ll give you your first orgasm of the night by using his mouth alone, and then he’ll fuck you with his fingers. After that, he’ll have his way with you.
Atsumu pulls you up, pushing you down against the bed and getting down on his knees in front of you. He spreads your legs open, placing them over his shoulders. Atsumu blows softly against your soaking wet pussy, and he almost forgets his purpose when you clench around thin air.
“Mmm… look at this pretty girl, so wet and needy for me. Bet you missed my cock, didn’t you?” He asks, running a teasing finger up and down your folds.
You sigh, squirming, not entirely sure whether he’s talking to your pussy or you. You don’t actually care.
However, you’re unable to think much about it, because Atsumu is suddenly pressing his tongue flat against you. You moan, arching your back as he explores the area with his lips, almost like he’s making out with your pussy. Atsumu nips on your clit, lashes his tongue against it, sucks on it, and all you can do is chant his name like a prayer, with your hand buried in his hair. How can anyone use their tongue like that?
He practically drinks your slick like it’s the last drop of water in a desert, moaning against you and wishing he could stay with his head buried between your legs forever. Your moans go straight to his cock, and he has to tighten his grip on your thighs to stop himself from jerking off… which is torture. He always wonders how he manages to spend a single day without you, let alone almost an entire week. Yeah, torture.
“Tsumu…” you sigh, pulling on his golden locks.
“You like it, pretty?” he asks, his voice vibrating against your throbbing clit. “You like my mouth on your pussy?”
You bite on the back of your hand, nodding fervently. You can’t stay still, especially not when he pushes his tongue past your entrance and starts fucking you with it. Atsumu pushes your hips down agains the bed, trying to get you to be as still as possible. His nose rubs against you with each lick, your pussy clenches around his tongue with each thrust, and Atsumu isn’t sure who’s enjoying it more. But it doesn’t take too long before you’re calling out his name in a breathy moan, cumming against his face. He makes sure not a single drop goes to waste.
You perch yourself up on your elbows when he doesn’t stop, whining at the overstimulation.
“Tsumu? What— ah!” You throw your head back as he pushes two fingers inside, not wasting a second before starting to pump them in and out of you.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
Once again, you aren’t sure who he’s talking to. And once again, you don’t care.
He twists and curls his fingers inside you, and you feel like you’re seeing stars. Back arching off the mattress, toes curling, fists clenching the sheets, it’s glorious. If he ever has to leave for so long again, you’ll make sure to sneak your way into his luggage and go with him.
“Tsumu, please,” you beg. “Please, fuck me.”
“Not yet, pretty girl. Be patient.”
He uses his other hand to draw tight, quick circles over your clit, and you swear you see white exploding behind your eyes, and you’re suddenly squirting all over his fingers and the sheets, and a little bit on his face. And his face lights up with a devilish smile, a new goal in mind. He wants to see how many times he can make you squirt.
Atsumu watches you for a second as you pant above him, and doesn’t hesitate to start rubbing your abused clit once more. You gasp, whining his name and trying to squirm away from him, but he holds you in place.
“One more. I know you can give me one more,” he murmurs, using his mouth to help get you there faster. And then you’re gushing against his face again, walls fluttering as you cry out his name, and he’s smiling, and he can’t help but murmuring a low, “Fuck, that’s a good girl,” in awe.
You pant his name, legs trembling as you try to catch your breath. Atsumu stands up, looking down at you with an excited smile and a certain glint in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. He pushes your legs open, eyes glued to your glistening folds and the way you clench under the attention.
“Mmm…” he hums, running his thumb along your folds.
“Tsumu, please,” you whine.
You aren’t exactly sure what you’re begging him for. To stop? To keep going? To put his cock in? Whatever it is, you want him to do something.
“So needy,” he tuts, shaking his head. Funny, he’s even more needy than you, but he’s fighting hard to hide it. “You want my cock?”
You’re a babbling mess on the bed, but he easily identifies the weak nod you give. There’s no way you’re stopping at being eaten out after not having him inside for so long.
“Yes, please. Please, Tsumu, I want your cock, please, please,” you plead.
“Well, if you ask so nicely…” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you. He slips his tongue in, grabbing your hair in his fist and tugging on it to force you to look at him. “How can I say no?”
He attacks your neck with his mouth, kissing his was down slowly. He bites on the soft flesh, sucking hard and using his tongue to dull the sharp pain of the hickies he’s covering your skin with. Atsumu pays close attention to your breasts, latching onto one of your nipples with his mouth as he attends the other with his free hand, switching after a couple seconds. You breathe out his name, holding his head against your chest.
Atsumu pulls back, flipping you over with ease and pulling on your hips to have a nice view of your ass. You yelp when he bites on your asscheek, chuckling against the jiggly skin while his other hand smacks the other one harshly enough to leave his handprint.
“Tsumu!” you moan, curling your fingers around the sheets. He hums against you, licking a strip up your bare back. “Quit teasing.”
“Boo, I was having fun,” he sighs against the back of your neck. He pulls back —but not before spanking your other cheek— and aligns himself with your entrance. “Who knew you’d be so desperate for my cock?” he teases.
“Atsumu,” you whine, grinding your ass back against him.
He groans when his length slides between your folds, holding you still with one hand. And without a warning, he pushes himself in. With all your slick, and the way you had squirted plus your orgasms, it isn’t hard to go in. He slides in without a hitch, almost like your pussy’s welcoming him home.
“Fuck.” He throws his head back with a loud moan. “So fuckin’… tight. This pussy was made just for me,” he murmurs in your ear, drawing back and easing himself in again. He starts slowly, picking up the pace with each thrust. It isn’t long before he’s drilling into you, balls smacking against your pussy with each thrust. “Fuck, fuck… so pretty… so ready for my cock,” he pants, gripping your hips tightly to ram against them.
He slaps the fat of your asscheeks until they’re red, squeezing the flesh with his fingers and smoothing his hands over the abused skin to soothe the sting. You moan his name, head falling forward with heavy pants and gasps. Atsumu holds onto your hair, pulling on it to make you look up and whispers a bunch of nasty things in your ear, moaning loudly when his words make you clench your pussy around his thick member.
“Fucking hell,” he groans, clutching onto your shoulders for support. You cry out his name when your third —fourth?— orgasm hits you like a truck, gasping for air.
You arms grow weak under your own weight, but Atsumu, who knows you all too well, is quick to hold you against his chest, hand on your throat with his fingers slightly curled around it.
You hold onto his wrist, panting heavily as he thrusts in and out at a delicious speed, hitting all the right spots. Atsumu lets you down on the bed, turning you over to your side and positioning himself behind you. He holds your left leg, pushing it up. He angles his hips to push himself in once more, with a hand on your calf while the other fondles your breasts.
“Look at the camera, pretty,” he instructs behind you, chest rising with heavy breaths. “I like seeing your face when I fuck you.”
You moan, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you looked up to where the phone is, mouth open in a silent scream while Atsumu fucks you from behind. You let out a broken sob, screaming his name and arching your back against him when he hits an especially sweet spot inside you.
“I know baby, I know… Fuck, you feel so good. Always such a good girl for my cock,” he grunts against your neck, his hand dropping to your pussy to rub your clit with the calloused pads of his fingers. You cry out his name, hand shooting down to clamp around his arm. “Awww, it’s okay, pretty,” he coos, kissing your neck softly. “I know you can give me one more.”
You scream out his name loudly, hiding your face against the crook of his neck as you squirt once more against his fingers, the noises filling the room becoming wetter, louder, and more… pornographic.
His thrusts slow down, making sure you feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you. You whimper pathetically, letting him manhandle you like a rag doll once more as he moves you into a new position. Atsumu coos sweet nothings into your ear, kissing the tears from your cheeks, and it’s then you realize you’re actually crying.
“I know you have one more in you, pretty,” he whispers against your lips, meeting them in a rough kiss afterwards. You moan against him, your fingers twitching on the bed. You want to wrap your arms around his neck, but you don’t have the strength to do it. “You always look so pretty when I fuck you.”
“Tsumu,” you whimper, gasping when he bites on your lower lip and pulls on it. You want to say something, yet all the words seem to have escaped you, so you just repeat his name like a mantra. “Tsumu…”
He pushes your legs up so they’re resting on his shoulders, leaning his weight against you with his hands clutching onto your thighs. You whimper as your legs sting with effort, sure that you won’t be able to walk afterwards. Maybe you should tell him to get you a wheelchair.
“Ready?” he asks.
And despite everything, you nod. Atsumu groans gutturally when he pushes himself in, cock twitching at the lewd noises leaving your lips. You claw at his back, leaving deep red lines along it as he bottoms out.
“Fuck,” you gasp, digging your nails into his skin. “It’s too much… s’too much… ngh.”
Atsumu groans at the sting, not really giving a damn when he’s too focused on the vice grip your tight pussy has on him. He lets out a shaky breath, pulling out until just the tip’s in, only to push himself back in with one smooth thrust.
You scream his name, unable to keep your hands to yourself, and he knows that he couldn’t possibly change in front of the guys now, but he’s too busy fucking his girlfriend like a pornstar to give a shit about it.
Atsumu’s merciless, rutting into you with tremendous stamina, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs —probably bruising them, but neither of you cares. Plus, your hips probably look the same—, whimpering softly as the head of his cock brushes against your cervix effortlessly.
And he praises you so much about everything; about how you’re such a good girl, and how you always take him so well, and how welcoming your pussy always is, and how pretty you look when he’s balls deep inside you.
Atsumu likes trying out new positions, sure, but nothing will ever beat being able to look at you when he’s fucking you.
He looks down between your bodies as he pounds against you, moaning when his eyes land on the point where your bodies meet. The sight of your pussy swallowing him whole makes him go feral, and he fastens his pace, if it’s even possible to go faster. He holds onto the headboard of the bed, the wooden piece crashing loudly against the wall as the bed creaks beneath you. And you’re being so loud, neither of you hear it until it’s too late.
The unmistakable sound of cracking.
Both of you look up, and Atsumu laughs loudly when he sees the broken headboard in his grasp. He shakes his head with a smile, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he fucks you, going impossibly deep. And then you’re screaming and cumming like a pornstar. Maybe it’s the lack of contact for so long, maybe Atsumu Miya is simply that good. Maybe both. But there you are, crying out his name, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life as you, for the final time, squirt and cream all over his cock.
That seems to provoke something in him, because his eyes darken, and his breath becomes heavier, and then he’s tensing up on top of you, hips stuttering. And, with one final thrust, the bed finally gives in beneath you, dipping to the side and helping Atsumu reach even deeper. You cry out again as he comes undone, thrusting slowly and applying pressure on your stomach to pump his load inside you.
And then Atsumu starts laughing, and you can’t help but join him.
“That’s the third time, Atsumu,” you croak, voice hoarse. “And the headboard, too.”
He looks down at you lovingly, caressing your cheek and pressing a sweet kiss against your lips, putting all of his affection into it. You grin against him, running your hands through his hair.
“I can just buy another one,” he murmurs against you, not wanting to ever abandon the taste of your lips. “Fuck, I missed you.” Atsumu presses his forehead against your shoulder, nuzzling his face against your neck and rubbing his nose against it. You chuckle, your embrace tightening around him. “Next time, you’re coming with me.”
“I have work.” You sigh.
“Fuck your work,” he groans, peeking up at you through his thick lashes. “You know, you could always quit.”
“Oh, yeah? What about the bills?”
“I can pay them,” he hums, smiling.
You giggle, shaking your head.
“What about my collection?”
His smile broadens, and he lets his face fall flat against your chest. He nibbles on the top part of your flesh, making you laugh. You swat him away, but Atsumu swats your hand back and snuggles closer to you.
“I can also pay for that. I’ll pay for everything. Just quit your job, I’ll be your Sugar Daddy,” he murmurs against your skin.
You laugh heartedly, shoving his shoulder playfully.
“I can’t just quit my job, Atsumu.”
“Ugh, fine. But next time, you are coming with me. You can just call in sick or something.”
“For a whole week?”
“I dunno. Just make up a virus or something.”
“Oh, you’re impossible.” You laugh.
He looks up once more, craning his neck to give you a chaste kiss on the lips.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
He groans when he pulls out, biting his lip at the sensation. He grabs his discarded boxers, pulling them over his legs and walking out of the room. You hear him rummaging through the kitchen drawers. The doorbell rings, making you frown. You’re not expecting anyone, not that you’re aware of.
About three minutes go by before Atsumu returns with a damp paper towel and a glass of water. You give him an appreciative smile, accepting the drink and looking at him with a cocked eyebrow when he won’t stop giggling to himself.
“Who was it?” You ask, taking a sip.
Atsumu’s grin widens.
“Noise complaint,” he laughs, scrunching up his nose.
He spreads your legs open gently, pressing the damp cloth against you to clean you up, pausing when you wince. He gives you an apologetic smile, making sure to be more tender.
“Mhm… We should probably go get a new bed, though.”
The thought of having to get out of bed to shower and change makes you grimace, noticing the soreness between your legs.
Atsumu Miya had, in fact, made you scream and cum like a pornstar.
the type of boyfriend who likes to ask you join his morning jog even tho it always ended by he carry you in his back because you're too sleepy and too tired to following his speed-pace that very hard to your reach. he never mad at you, instead he talking a lot with you to keep you don't sleep in his back. he also treat you breakfast after his morning jog is ended, he also don't mind to pay every breakfast-meal you want even tho your energy is not use at all. he's just loving you're join his morning routine. if you sleepy or just lazy that's no problem, the important things is you're with him.
-> ATSUMU, Bokuto, USHIJIMA, Yaku, KAGEYAMA, Iwaizumi, SAKUSA, Kindaichi, Shirabu, HOSHIUMI, Hinata
[ 13:40 ] miya atsumu
a mini something for my beloved @miyasann because i like the idea of cheesy tsumu ♥︎♥︎
it takes half an hour after the trip to the pet parlor to realize that the pink collar with a small onigiri chain around your dog’s neck wasn’t yours or your dog’s—on the collar the name max was neatly embroidered along with their owner’s phone number.
(oh, if only you had a dollar for every time you meet a dog with that name...)
it takes another ten minutes to argue with your anxiety and a minute of staring at your dog to finally come to a decision. “i should probably contact them.” you whip out your phone and even had your thumbs do a little dance over your screen before you finally sent out a text asking if the owner wanted to meet up at the cafe near the parlor to get his collar back.
the reply comes in under thirty seconds.
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞
𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 :𝙳
call it wishful thinking, but a part of you wishes this owner was cute. a cute stranger cute enough to make you fantasize a whole romance and life with them that will obviously never happen in under ten seconds the moment you see them.
please, it wouldn’t hurt to wish for a moment to give your life some spice and excitement to fuel you for the next few days.
( you sit there praying the owner wasn’t a creep. )
“i’m so sorry!” a blonde man comes over with a shiba inu—still in its puppy stage—pinned to his side and under his arm. “you’re the one with the collar right?”
it was almost comical to look at him but a romantic fantasy with this conveniently attractive stranger does indeed invade your mind.
“yes!” you scramble for the collar in your bag. abort mission! you prayed and wished too hard! the guy in front of you was too cute! “here.”
with his dog at his side—he envelopes his large hands around yours, giving you a gratifying shake. “thank you again! really!”
you watch him quickly fasten the collar around his dog and leash him, to which max responds by excitedly gnawing at his wrist and when his owner stands up to face you, the pup lies on its belly and proceeds to pull at the hem of his jeans.
( never will you admit to ogling this stranger’s hands a little too disrespectfully. )
“you have no idea how hard it was to carry him around. ah, right!” he holds a hand out for you to shake. “miya atsumu.”
“y/n.” you reciprocate his curt introduction. “i was planning to leave the collar at the parlor just in case you didn’t answer.”
( god, was it possible to feel any smaller next to this guy? )
“well, i’m glad i did.” atsumu sports a smile—one too giddy for his own good. “so... this is your number, right?”
“would you mind if we meet up again soon? i’ve got something right now but i want to thank you properly.” he checks his phone and looks back up at you.
you almost choke on your spit. you really did wish too hard and here you are... trying not to come off too excited. “all i did was return a collar, it’s no big deal.”
“to you.” he gently tugs at his dog’s leash, reluctantly moving away from you to answer a call. “but i hope you change your mind and say yes!” he picks his pup in his arm and jogs away with his phone pressed to his ear—disappearing from your view.
a breathless what the fuck leaves you and your dog nipping at you brings you back to reality—and the reality is the chances of crossing paths with him are low.
but not zero.
you hear from him again much later in the afternoon when your phone rings for a moment—notifying you of a text.
it was from atsumu’s number.
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 :)
the bubble appears and disappears.
𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚎
𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂𝙽’𝚃 𝙼𝙴
𝚆𝙰𝙸𝚃 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 𝙼𝙴 𝙸𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃 🥲
you raise your head to stare at your dog, waiting for an epiphany to make a decision—after another thumb dance over your screen, you text him you’re free friday afternoon. ( you almost eat your phone out of dread waiting for a reply. )
the soft chime of a received text message pulls you back.
𝚒’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 :)
with your cheeks all warm, you could only wish for friday to come faster.
thanks @vilevvords for this bcs i haven't stopped thinking about it
[ in reference to this fic ]
atsumu will swear up and down that kiyoomi's being weird lately. he doesn't get as annoyed as he usually does when atsumu or bokuto address him with their usual heya, omi-omi! or nice serve, omi-kun! instead of the menacing scowl he sends their way, kiyoomi will just nod in acknowledgement before moving on with whatever he's doing. it drives atsumu absolutely nuts, even more so when the rest of the black jackals don't seem to find anything wrong with it. one time, atsumu even asks kiyoomi if he's feeling okay or whether he needs to see a physician since he's being too nice. (that definitely earned him a smack with a volleyball)
the pieces of the puzzle finally fall into place, however, when you stop by during one of MSBY's practice games. atsumu remembers you — sakusa kiyoomi's s/o who was introduced to them a few weeks ago and someone he thinks is too sweet for kiyoomi's blunt attitude. and during the ten-minute water break, he observes the outside hitter smoothly walking up to you, waiting in the sidelines with his towel and water bottle (atsumu will never admit that he's a little jealous of kiyoomi at that moment), and he hears it loud and clear —
"you're doing great, omi~"
and miya atsumu nearly chokes on his water, sputtering out an exaggerated gasp and pointing an accusing finger in the direction of the two of you. "THAT'S WHY YA DON'T MIND THE NAME NOW???"
sakusa kiyoomi wonders why he thought it was a good idea to have you around the MSBY boys again.
inarizaki players as your bf ! #￼
☆ featuring. atsumu, osamu, suna, kita, aran (in order)
sorry kita and arans are short, i got lazy 😭 suna’s part is kinda long bc i love him sm
MIYA ATSUMU -
- your relationship with him is definitely the “she fell first but he fell harder” type trope.
- i feel like atsumu’s s/o would definitely be someone smart, like really smart.
- he loves just watching you do your homework, he finds you so pretty when you focus on your work, and he just sits there with his head plopped on top of his crossed arms, staring at you in adoration
- you guys probably first met when you were assigned to be his tutor. his teachers had warned him that if his grades didn’t start improving then he’d be suspended from the volleyball team, this was the only reason he accepted tutoring.
- at first you guys probably didn’t get along, but seeing him look so determined to study just for volleyball actually made him kinda cute.
- after a while, atsumu had realized he’d fallen for you too- maybe because he couldn’t get you out of his head- or maybe because he actually started looking forward for tutoring.
- he finally asked you out after a couple weeks- and surprisingly to him, you said yes !
- now that you two are dating, you better brace yourself. because atsumu is probably VERY clingy.
- he constantly tells you to come over to watch him practice, and sometimes he forgets you have your own life, cause he just wants you by his side 24/7.
MIYA OSAMU -
- you guys are definitely the friends to lovers trope !
- osamu would definitely want a partner that’s in love with food just as much as he is- he wants someone that can cook, that can bake, and someone that can finally realize that he is his own person. not “atsumu’s twin brother”.
- he first met you probably at the school cafeteria. (ik a lot of people say cafeteria food is bad but i have a feeling that osamu eats that shi upp 😭 he probably begs suna for some of his cafeteria food cause he actually likes it)
- “hey aren’t you a student? why are you serving as a lunch lady”, he asks. now osamu is a lot of things but most of all- he’s pretty observant. if he sees your face once he automatically knows who you are.
- you told him you volunteered cause they needed an extra hand cooking and stuff and thats when his eyes lit up- you were the one who made the cafeteria food actually taste good.
- he asked for your number so maybe you could talk more about different recipes and different foods you could try together.
- you started talking more and became friends. the moment he really fell for you and realized he likes you was when he asked for you to come over, atsumu was on a run and wouldn’t come back till way later so the house was his.
- when you came over you two just talked casually, and when you started cooking with him, you saw a smile on his face that you’ve never seen before.
- after cooking and eating, you two were cleaning up the dishes, you were washing them, while he was drying them.
- “hey i had a lot of fun today.” he said out of nowhere. “yeah me too, we should do this more.” it went quiet after you said that, and you turned to look at him, he looked like he was thinking hard.
- “this is probably a bad time but i just wanna get it over with, i have a crush on you. its fine if you don’t like me back i ju-“
- he couldn’t even finish his sentence, you turned off the faucet and dropped whatever dish was in your hand and just kissed him. it seemed to sudden but it all felt so right.
- you guys started dating a week after that, atsumu was kinda shocked. he knew his brother had a crush on you, but what he didn’t know was that you actually liked him back. atsumu could’ve sworn you were head over heels for him- not osamu, but then again that’s just atsumu’s big ego talking.
- osamu as a boyfriend is definitely chill- but he’s constantly freaking out in the inside, insecure that you’d leave him for his brother, but he’d never tell you about that.
SUNA RINTAROU -
- suna mfing rintarouuu <333333 (could u tell he’s my fav? hfiajshdak)
- brothers best friend trope with him omgggg !! ur probably the “i hate you” gf and he’s the “i love you too” bf
- imagine being the miya twins’ sister and crushing on your brothers’ best friend !! and him crushing on you backkkk ?!!!?!!
- your brother’s definitely dragged you to sign up as manager, and when you got the position you remembered that suna rintarou is also apart of the boys volleyball team.. yeah you have had a crush on him for a while.
- you first met him when your brothers invited him over to your house, you didn’t think much of him at first, sure he was attractive but he was quiet, didn’t say anything to you, just a small wave when you were introduced to him.
- he started to come over frequently, but still said nothing to you- you didn’t mind though. at that time you haven’t formed a crush on him yet.
- it wasn’t till his 7th? visit to your house that he said something to you that wasn’t a “hey” or “excuse me”. the moment was quite embarrassing however.
- you were getting dressed to go to your friends house, when all of a sudden your door opens with suna rintarou just standing there. it takes both of you a whole minute to process the situation and that’s when embarrassment strikes, “oh my god.. im so so so sorry.. uh i was looking for the bathroom, wrong room sorry..”. he seems calm on the outside but on the inside this man is literally going insane. yeah okay maybe he’s thought you’re kinda really cute, but he didn’t know you enough to like you, so what was this ? a small crush i guess.
- “its uh fine..”, that’s when he closes the door and practically tried to erase any memory of whatever the hell just happened. after that moment, you were finally dressed and when you left downstairs you had tapped the back of who you had thought was one of your brothers, “hey im going ou-“ it wasn’t til he turned his head, you noticed that wasn’t in fact one of your brothers- but instead the man who had just seen you in your undergarments a couple minutes ago.
- flustered still from what had happened, you quickly apologized and told him that you thought he was one of your brothers. he excused it. “hey wait, where are my brothers ?“ you asked, “uhh atsumu’s shitting.. and osamu ran to get snacks in the store.” you giggled at him, and started small talk.
- after that you and him constantly had your little small talks every time he’d come over to hang out with your brothers.
- you both kinda developed a crush on each other because of that..
- when he saw you at the gym, he thought you were there just to watch your brothers practice but when he heard you were becoming the new manager- he saw this as an opportunity to get even closer to you.
- this boy broo 😭 constantly flirting with u during practice istgg!!
- he will never do it in front of ur brothers cause for some reason he’s scared of them 😭 ??
- literally gets you flustered any time he can.. like he’ll do that thing where he wipes the sweat by lifting his shirt to show off his abs AHHHHH… and boy does he notice when you look at him .. pls he knows he’s hot and attractive
- this boy is literally WHIPPED for you, even before you two started dating, he did anything to get closer to you. he’d ask to use the bathroom during practice just to end up going to the water fountain where he’ll see you filling up water bottles and ask if you need help!! he’d also block hard spikes on purpose just to get his fingers to get injured so he could go over to you and ask you to tape them. (probably does that on purpose just so you could hold his hand..)
- the moment he asks you out is just out of nowhere. he’s walking you to your class while you tell him about how your day is going, all of a sudden he just stops walking, “anyways my next cla- rintarou? why’d you stop?”, you asked, he begged you to call him by his first name btw. “y/n i like you” he blurted it out of absolutely nowhere. the minute he said that the bell rang and his stupid ass thought you didn’t hear him 😭
- so he pulled you in closer and whispered in your ear, “i like you, a lot, will you let me be your boyfriend.”, you didn’t know what to say, so instead of saying anything you just pulled him in for a long kiss. “yes. duh.”
- dating him is literally SO FUNNN!! he does anything and everything just for you <33
- he’s definitely the type to barge into your class, disrupting the lesson and your teacher just stares at him, “can i help you?” is all she says and he just says, “yeah i just wanted to say hi y/n” its literally so embarrassing but he loves it smm, all of your classmates just go “oohhhhhhh” and you literally whisper “i hate you” even though he can’t hear you, he could read it off your lips.
- he does little shenanigans to try and impress you <333 like he would stuff your locker with little toys and treats and add a note like “meet me in the rooftop pretty ;)”.
- he probably bangs little pebbles against your window in one of your classes, so when you look out the window during class you just see him holding a giant sign thats like, “hi y/n”
- he decided to give hush money to literally the whole school to not tell your brothers you two are dating 😭 and it took your brothers 5 months to find out you and rin are dating, and they only found out when they barged into your room only to find you and suna making out on your bed.
- to say the least- they were not happy about this, and continued to threaten suna (jokingly obvi)
- during the time your brothers didn’t know about your relationship, suna would sneak into your room late at night to cuddle with you, sometimes he’d sleep over and wake up extra early to sneak out of your house, just to not get caught
- this man probably knows about the sidewalk rule !! he is also very hygenic and probably smells like vanilla 24/7 ( i swear i love me a man who actually smells good )￼
- as a boyfriend he’s probably very clingy, but will never admit it. he just wants to be with you all the time. his love language is probably physical touch and quality time.
- in summary he is very much in love with you and cannot deny it. he is quite perfectly best boyfriend material 😫 <33
KITA SHINSUKE -
- probably childhood friends to lovers !! <333
- you two are like two completely different people 😭 ! kita is more calm and collected, meanwhile you’re a little chaotic and all over the place, but trust me thats what he loves about you!
- you’ve been friends since day one, and probably met cause your moms were good friends, which led to you two meeting at a young age.
- as you two grew older, you stayed friends and you often visited him at his grandma’s, you helped kita and his grandma doing chores. you were pretty clumsy to say the least and you always apologized for it. you’d think that kita was mad about it but he thought it was cute how clumsy you were.
- you both matured throughout time and ended up going to the same schools. it wasn’t till your third year of high school that he finally confessed to you at graduation. it took him so long cause he was VERY nervous- but with the help of his volleyball team, they pushed him to confess to you!
- dating kita shinsuke is an absolute dream come true!! this man will do anything in his power to make you happy.
- i just know that he uses all 5 love languages <33 and especially acts of service and words of affirmation! he constantly reminds you of how much he loves and adores you, and uses the smallest things to remind you that too, like massaging your back after a long day, buying your favorite flowers even if theres no occasion, and overall making you happy.
ARAN OJIRO -
- aran omfgbsjhdbs he is so fine oml
- i feel like you guys would def be that friends w benefit shit
- you’re ALWAYSSS flirting but whenever people ask u if you’re dating you’re just like “whatttt??? nahhh we’re just best friends, nothing more!”
- i swear to god “friends” my ass BECAUSE YOU TWO ACT LIKE YOU’VE BEEN DATING FOR YEARS !!
- you’d literally drink out of the same cups, cuddle n shit, make playlists for each other and all that couple stuff !!
- every time you guys say you aren’t dating it hurts both of you a little bit. its so clear that you both have feelings for each other, but not one of you dare say anything!!
- the only way you two started to admit feelings was when atsumu got so pissed at the whole “we’re just friends” shit that he accidentally let it slip, “y/n god how stupid can you be?!!?! aran literally LOVESSS YOU.” it didn’t take you long to run over to where he was.
- “y/n do you need someth-“ you cut him off just by saying “be my boyfriend” and thats when he placed his hand on the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss.
- you guys automatically started dating and let me just say that this man has to be second best boyfriend material next to suna he literally worships you. like he would kiss on the ground you walk on.
- he is so in love w you, like you can’t tell me otherwise.
- tbh your dynamic with him didn’t change, only because you guys acted like you were dating before you did !!
hate sex with miya atsumu — mdni
summary: atsumu was a perfectionist, triple checking everything before he was done. you however, were not. though, he didn’t miss the way you triple checked his brother out, and as a perfectionist, he refused to be second.
cw: smut, 1 bed trope, no protection, oral, 2.3k, afab!reader
HQ MASTERLIST — OSAMU || SUNA
“get your dirty hands off me.”
he scoffed, pushing his nose into the back of your neck, “don’t act like ya don’t like it, princess.”
arguing with miya atsumu on a day you were anticipating relaxation was not part of your schedule — to be fair, arguing with him was never planned at all, but it always seemed to happen.
whether it was when you cleaned the msby jerseys, or fixed the net before their practice, he always had something to critique you on. ‘it’s too low’ or ‘you missed a spot’ always seemed to find its way riding past his lips.
he was nothing but a perfectionist in the end, and as much as you wished he kept it to himself; he didn’t. it was second nature at this point to listen to his small complaints, and it pained you to know exactly why he was that way.
growing up with constant competition of a twin who always seemed to be a little better than you in everything was difficult to grow out of, and perhaps you had the smallest bit of a soft spot for him because of it. though, the puzzle of the miyas life made more sense when you remember how smitten you were earlier at the sight of his brother, miya osamu.
and as you avoided most things involving atsumu, he couldn’t help but infiltrate your schedule each and every time. being forced to bunk with one of the most irritating men on the team would have caused you a migraine if he hadn’t already create one hours prior at his constant complaints, and as icing on the cake to your headache, the small snickers from the other members filled your ears as you stomped away.
on the other hand, atsumu was already mad at you to begin with. being forced to share a room with him made him feel a mixture of emotions, like whether he should continue his whining or even to tease you to get the upper hand. in the end, being a room with someone he couldn’t get out of his mind wasn’t something he necessarily looked forward to at first.
yes, he was mad; angry — all because of you — someone who raises his heartbeat in a way he despised. but he was a grown man now, and there was only one way to fix these issues he’s been dealing with for months.
“seriously miya,” his hand squeezed tight against your side as you attempted to pry it off, “what’s your endgame here?”
his words didn’t make much sense as you thought about them into depth. his skin was much warmer than your body as he stuck to your side, the hot sensation of his breath sticking to the back of your neck as each second he seemingly inched closer.
wiggling your body against his, you tried once again to free yourself from his grasp. the comforter rubbing against the bed filled the silence as he continued to pull you close.
finally being able to lay on your back, his eyes watched yours as the moonlight from the window shined in the reflection of his pupils.
“it’s not ma’ fault theres only one bed.”
the low vibrations of his voice sent shivers down your spine as his hand let loose to rub against your thigh. boredom filled his features as a façade in hope that the darkness of the room covered the tint on the tip of his ears.
pushing him away once against, he furrowed his eyebrows at your movements. though, his hand found home on you once again. and as if it was a game of cat and mouse, arms tangled between each other with a mixture of protests.
“could’ya just—“ his arm continued to fight against yours until he swiftly wrapped it around your waist, pulling you close against his chest, “just stop?”
“i fucking hate you,” you spat your words like firing a bullet, anger finally filling his features as you continued to insult him, “havent you realize that?”
“ya don’t hate me.”
he pulled you closer, your nose brushed his without notice as you were too busy focused on his disturbed expression, “what do you want from me, miya?”
silence filled the room once against as you stayed tense in his arms, his eyes shaking slightly as if his brain was wracking for the perfect words — a perfect excuse — to use.
“i saw the way ya looked at ‘samu today.”
a dry laugh left your lips as your eyes rolled, jealousy of his brother seeming to always be mentioned in any conversation he takes part of, “all of this because of your fucking brother?”
“do ya like him?”
“more than you.”
you hated the way his furrowed eyebrows made your chest tighten, your unresolved feelings you’ve felt towards the man that held you close resurfacing. a heartbroken look washing his features before being quickly covered up with a determined one, “then ya know what i want.”
“and what’s that?”
his lips caressed yours with a small kiss, testing the waters on any limits you’d place without mention. the lack of response concerned him until you pulled him back in hesitantly, teasing for an answer with the way your arms wrapped around his neck, hands carding through his hair with a pull.
“to change that.”
rolling atop you and spreading your legs as if he’s done it a million times, his lips did not leave yours. the animalistic growl leaving his lips sent shock through your body as he rubbed himself against your warmth in no time. the clothing separating you both becoming his worst enemy, after you.
“all this because—“ your words were broken between his kisses, “your twin is better than you?”
“‘m better than him.”
“i bet he fucks better than you.”
“just another thing i’ll prove wrong,” his hands pulled your shirt off your body, taking his own in the process and relishing at the chance to touch your intimate skin against his, “he’s nothin’ compared to me.”
his hands roamed your body, unhooking the clasp on your back, mouth finding your perked tits instantly as your head fell back. the tugs in his hair had him grinding harder against you, the shaky breaths evident as your plump chest bobbed against his face.
sweat surfaced on his skin as the temperature of the room seemed to get higher, the grip on your hips surely to leave a bruise if he continues to hold you flushed against him.
his cocked jumped at the sound of his name leaving your lips in a moan, marks littering your soft, plush skin as his mouth worked its was down to you center. the slur of your words were almost intoxicating as if his veins were filled with everlasting adrenaline by the tone itself, his mouth was salivating at the thought of how wet he’s made you with his tongue alone.
“may i, princess?” his hand rubbed against your folds through your shorts, the small whine leaving your lips as you arched your back was enough of an answer for him to discard of them immediately, leaving you completely bare under his touch.
“your brother would have had me cumming by now.”
he laughed lowly at your words to cover his frustrations, his tongue invading your slick without hesitation as if he was feasting after weeks of starvation. the vibrations of his groans worked perfectly against your clit as he sucked the perfect places, growing harder at your taste.
precum wet his sweats as he realized his imagination did you no justice, months of his secret yearning to be between your legs completely worth it as his digits found their way inside you, pushing you closer to that climax with the search of your sweet spot.
“is this it?” his voice was condescending as he watched your legs shake under the curl of his finger, navigating and memorizing every inch within you, “there it is, baby.”
“i hate you.”
“sure ya do,” he chucked as he began to suck harder against your bud, your thighs clenching around his head as that climax approached, “cum for me, angel. ya got this.”
the gushing against his hands almost made him cum alone as his mouth cleaned the mess he created in your cunt. the stutter of his first name from your lips was hypnotizing as he began to test your limits on your sensitivity, teasing you as he licked your swollen clit in the process.
once satisfied, he raised his body to roll his sweats to his knees. he looked prideful as your release painted his face sloppily, his hand slowly pumping his hard. coming down from your high, your eyes watched his as he smeared the cum on his tip a few times at the sight of your fucked-out look.
“what are you waiting for?”
“i am admirin’ the view.”
heat invaded your features as his eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. was it lust? similar, but not quite. it’s as if he had been anticipating this moment, eyes fucking you before he actually did.
pushing his tip against your clit, goosebumps caused his shoulders to jerk at the pleasure. your body twitched again against him as if you were trying to beg for him, but not allowed yourself to do so. he slowly found his way inside you, eyes clutching shut at the feeling of home in your walls. his body moved at a pace you didn’t agree with, but he wanted to feel each detail of you before his inevitable corruption.
“please,” words finally slipped your mouth, his eyes opening at the pleads, “fuck me like you mean it, miya.”
his surname forced him to forget his needs as his hips snapped into you, stretching you against his length at an immeasurable speed as the slaps against your skin filled the room.
the small smirk faded off his lips as your head fell back against the pillow, the raise of your legs to ease the position found their ways into his hands, his palms holding your knees back into the mattress to watch himself disappear inside of you thrust after thrust.
“yer so fucking pretty,” his words were broken, as if he was choking. all emotions left his features as he was too focused on the sight of you. the way your tits bounced, or the way your previous orgasm helped you fit him in perfectly, it was too delicious for him not to stop and take it in, “yer mine. all mine.”
he changed his pace at your rejection, pulling out completely and slamming back into you to watch the curvature of your back pull up from the sheets. his arm wrapped under smoothly with experience to repeat the motion. the way your jaw slacked open completely caused his demeanor to change back, an irritated smile filling his lips at your submissive state when you were the opposite moments prior.
“don’t lie to ya’self, baby,” the cock of his head would have made you roll your eyes if his actual cock wasn’t already forcing you to do so, “say yer mine.”
“over my dead body.”
“the way ya going limp on my dick right now, you kind of resemble one.” he joked, rubbing his thumb on the forming bruise he held you at minutes before.
“fuck,” you moaned your words, “fuck you.”
“that you are.”
his hair stuck to his forehead as looked up at the ceiling, relaxing his neck. hands loosening up on you as his body was slowly giving up at the orgasm he was pursuing. stars swarmed his vision as he picked up his pace slowly, yet sloppy.
he was cute, you admitted. as if he was lovestruck, even though you constantly pushed his egotistical words away for months on end. his breath shook while his legs gave out, pushing his chest into yours as his eyes latched onto you.
“so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, “so, so beautiful.“
“cum in me, ‘tsumu.”
widening his eyes at your command, he observed you intensely as his seed finally released at your approval. an ungodly noise left his body but was quickly muffled as you pulled him in for a kiss, lips clumsily working against each other as his thrust became weaker, your body voluntarily clenching against his to milk every drop out of him.
disconnecting his body from yours, he collapsed next to you. your inhales syncing up as he pulled you close like before, except this time you didn’t pull away.
sweat covered his body but you paid no mind as yours did too, the sexual pheromones turning into nothing but an unspoken love being acknowledged as his forehead pressed against yours.
sleeping with atsumu invaded your schedule, and fucking him was the result. although you seemed relatively busy, you weren’t exactly against clearing up time to make the night become a habit. maybe having benefits with a perfectionist would end up being more beneficial to you in the end, but was it worth it? what was the cost?
“get outta ya head,” he mumbled against your neck, “and just stay here with me.”
“keep callin’ me that and i’ll make ya a miya,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly, “that way ya cant call me that anymore.”
“how else, dummy.”
“i guess marrying your brother wouldn’t be that bad.”
his voice was grumpy as he pulled you closer to his chest, leaving a small kiss on your neck, “brother? i don’t got one.”
tags: a gift for my loves @atsumeii & @bbyatsumu <33 — @nanamoonie @hyeque @ohtokki @crescentkaze @bombshellbella @im-always-in-need-of-a-nap @fairylibra @cloud-cherie (couldnt tag the striked)
how it started
how it’s going
Unto You, Unto Me
pairings: timeskip!atsumu x f!reader
word count: 6.0k
contains: best friends to lovers, initial angst, omniscient pov, flowery prose, suppressed → resolved feelings, mutual pining, intimacy comes in many forms, mentions of masturbation (f.), love confessions & other confessions, nervous!atsumu & reader, brief std talk, emotional sex, safe sex, atsumu is a giving man, oral sex (f. receiving), brief overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), implied size difference, penetrative sex, bathing together afterwards, bonus scene included
warnings: minors dni
a/n: this is the final fic to my best-friend!atsumu drabble series Friends Don't Do This; it can be read separately, but i highly recommend reading through the series before reading this! (there's a lot of references in this from previous drabbles; this fic takes place directly after Mistakes With Memories)
Make of love what you will, but it is not this.
She wears a burgundy blouse, a beautiful smile; she is what Love believes itself to be. A primordial want that takes, and takes.
Atsumu picks his utensil around the candied vegetables as Misato continues speaking.
“I heard there’s a press panel coming up for your team. Agencies are scrambling for their best reporters to be there,” she says, pressing the edge of a wine glass to her lips.
“Will you?” He sets a piece of the vegetable on his tongue; it has an unusual taste. “Be there, I mean.”
Atsumu hums, then drinks from his water. He doesn’t take wine tonight.
Replacing her glass, Misato asks, “Why did you ask me out for dinner?” It’s a sudden question, though gentle.
He gives pause, not having realized he’d been tapping his finger on the tabletop. “What do ya’ mean?”
“Atsumu,” she begins, “when I first met you, there wasn’t a moment you or I didn’t take to joke and flirt. Then, I start seeing less and less of you until it all becomes strictly formal interactions.” Misato folds her hands in her lap. “You can imagine my surprise when I got your call.”
He moves to the roasted meats on the plate. “Thought it might be nice to see a familiar face again, catch up and whatnot.”
Misato nods her head carefully.
They exchange conversation well into the night; they talk of simple things, palatable to their circumstance. Misato says his name, recalls their brief shared memories, remarks on previous game matches. Atsumu says her name and wants yours, he sees her face, listens to her.
When the dinner is finished and the bill paid, he walks her outside. Misato watches the street and its people and cars, she watches him.
“I don’t know what you’re wanting, Atsumu, but I don’t think you’ll find it with me,” she says assuredly, adjusting her coat.
Atsumu turns toward her, brows rising in mild surprise.
“I had a great time talking to you, though. And I hope that you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” She smiles again, steps away to hail a taxi.
Atsumu is left alone on the sidewalk.
He drives home with the radio loud until he reaches the parking garage of the apartment building. Atsumu pulls the vehicle into a vacant spot, the radio now silenced as he breathes out, closing his eyes.
Misato’s parting words come back to him, as do you. Nothing has changed. You, who still remains the cornerstone of his thoughts, his understanding of what love could be.
Atsumu opens his eyes, inhales uncertainly. He drags a hand down his face, to his throat where he undoes the uppermost buttons there. And you’re likely waiting in the living room for him to come home, a large book in your hands, a smile when he opens the door. He exits the car, locks it.
Home, he thinks, ponders, as he enters the old elevator. It had always been ‘home’ when it was with you. Even as children, when you would tell him, “Let’s go home,” after a long day of play. Home was his home, your home, or something in between. Now, it’s a moderate apartment, nestled among the buildings of the city, shared with you.
He passes through the lobby, greeted by the secretary, slates for another row of elevators, presses the button for his floor.
When had he fallen in love with you? In the very beginning, as a young boy with scraped knees and loose teeth? Perhaps in middle school, when parents warned their children away from developing romantical habits.
Atsumu removes his coat, holding it over his shoulder as he begins to walk down the hallway. He can’t seem to keep his attention stilled, his eyes moving from door to door, along the wallpaper and carpet.
Soon, he reaches the apartment, pulling the brass key from his pocket and turning the lock over. Atsumu uses a hand to usher open the door, closing it behind him when he toes off his dress shoes.
“How did it go?” you ask and he looks up as you cross your arms over the backing of the couch, resting your chin there.
He shrugs, hanging his coat on a hook, “It was nice, but not what I’m lookin’ for.” Subconsciously, he finds himself mirroring Misato’s words. She had been right, after all.
You hum in acknowledgement, lifting your head. “What is it you’re looking for, then?”
Atsumu is staring at you, near reluctant to do so, his own words unable to pass the precipice of his tongue. He wonders if you can see the desperation in him. “I don’t know,” he tells you, because it’s an easy answer, applicable to any question, even if it is a lie.
Your brows furrow gently at his response. “You don’t know?”
“No,” he breathes. “I just—I think ‘m gonna head off to bed early, shower real quick.”
“‘Tsumu, wait.” You get up from the couch, following behind him. There’s a tautness to his shoulders that you find, the way he carries himself like he holds this leaden weight in the cradle of his arms.
He walks to the bathroom, turning around promptly to face you once he reaches the doorway, almost causing you to stumble into him.
You take a step back, away from Atsumu. “Something’s wrong,” you say, a question folded into a statement. The expression he wears is strange, encompassing, pleading yet indifferent.
“That is such bullshit.” There’s a wryness that laces around your lips and its small, unamused smile. Atsumu continues into the bathroom, as do you. “I can only guess what you’re thinking so many times before it gets tiring.”
His hands move to the buttons beneath his throat, unlooping the fabric in a methodical manner to hide the light trembling of his fingers, to busy himself. “Are ya’ stayin’?”
“In the bathroom—are ya’ stayin’ to talk?” he repeats, reaching the button at his navel. He doesn’t know which answer he wants from you. Atsumu misses when you used to sit yourself on the counter, listening to him, speaking to him as he bathed. There had been no implications then, no straining tension. But something has changed, indefinitely.
You pause a moment before you answer, and Atsumu fumbles over another button. “Yes,” you eventually tell him.
With his back to you, his shifting expression goes unseen. He’s…relieved.
Atsumu pulls the dress shirt from his body, listening as you lift yourself onto the counter.
“My eyes are closed, just so you know,” you murmur.
He works at his belt next, his jaw tightening at the chink of metal clicking together that he knows you can hear.
Truly, you attempt to keep your thoughts occupied with idle reminders, a grocery list, previous calls from friends. There’s the sound of a zipper being tugged down, the shuffling of clothing, before it drops softly to the bathroom tile. You lean over your body, placing your elbows on your knees as you lift a hand to the side of your face, opening your eyes without being able to see him. Another sound, a quieter sound, of Atsumu removing his briefs.
He turns the faucet handle and warm water fills the tub. At the realization that he’s drawing himself a bath instead of a shower, you shift in place. This was different, but was this purposeful?
“The woman I was with,” Atsumu begins, speaking as he watches the faucet, “her name’s Misato. I met her a while back after a game where she interviewed me.”
You don’t know what to say, whether to look at him or continue looking away. So, you remain silent, your eyes still covered from him.
“We started off as acquaintances before I saw her more often after that first meetin’. Then she became a friend, of sorts. Misato initiated the flirting after that, asked if I would ever wanna meet up with her for drinks or lunch.”
The heat from the water touches your skin, envelopes your body.
“I went to a bar with her and some of the team one night, but beyond that, nothin’ else.” Atsumu steps in the shallow water, patient as it continues to rise around him. “You can stop coverin’ your eyes, I promise I don’t look that bad,” he teases half-heartedly.
You lower your hand, turning hesitantly to face him. Atsumu is lying in the tub, his head resting on the porcelain lip as he catches your eye, wanting to watch you instead. Below his chest, his body is concealed by the tub. The familiarity and foreignness of this exchange eases him, if only a little bit.
“You’re lookin’ at me like ya’ don’t believe me.”
Open your mouth, close it; you’re unsure once more, but you settle to say, “Why did you take her on a date if she was nothing more than a friend?”
And isn’t that quite the question? he thinks. I’ve been askin’ myself the same thing, except I already know the answer even as I search for a different one.
Atsumu leans down to place his head beneath the faucet, wetting his hair. “I just wanted to see.”
“If I could change somethin’.”
“Change what?” you ask, a plea in your tone.
He reaches for the shampoo, lathering his hair. The answer you want is, simply, to the right of you. The answer sits in a tub, naked, bathing himself in your presence because the comfort and trust you bring him is inevitable, as is the comfort and trust he brings you.
His mother always said that Atsumu was ‘made to love.’ Atsumu was a boy who felt his emotions to its most potent degree. And love was no exception, even if it unwinds him now as a man, splices his flesh to relieve itself of his body.
The bathroom is growing warmer, your palms are beginning to sweat.
Atsumu is quiet for a moment, rinsing his hair of the shampoo, then, “Do you remember that night I came home drunk and told ya’ all those things?” He’s cautious, effectively circumventing your question.
“Yes,” you breathe. Near immediately you recall Atsumu tucking his head to your collarbone as he asked, “Why’d ya’ say my name?”
He makes to speak when you interrupt him.
“You haven’t brought it up since. I—I thought you were too drunk to remember.”
Atsumu pours soap onto a washcloth, not knowing how to discern your statement. But he’s terrified, nonetheless, of admitting this to you. Yet, somehow, it’s an easier truth to cut from the meat of his burdens than saying that he’s in love with you.
“Before that night, another night, I got home sooner than I planned and…and I texted ya’, told ya’ I’d be back a half hour earlier than usual.”
You know which night he’s referring to, and something fervid nips at your body, waiting in terrible anticipation. That night, that strange night, you had touched yourself to the thought of Atsumu, bringing yourself to orgasm again and again, imagining it was him between your legs, praising you, kissing and licking and pressing the vibrator to your clit until you came.
He’s washing his body now, and you hope he can’t see the embarrassment that’s begun to appear on your face. Though, Atsumu is stalling, his throat bobbing when he swallows.
After you had finished, whimpering out his name against your pillow, you looked to your phone to check the time. It was then that you saw his message, read it, then read the time again, and realized that he was likely already home.
Atsumu sniffs, nervous, quiet. “I heard ya’ say my name. I…didn’t mean to, ‘m sorry.”
And now, as he says it again, his words hold an entirely different meaning.
From your peripheral, you can see Atsumu keep his head down, pouring water on himself. And from all the times you had sat in this very spot, laughing, talking with him, you never would have thought you’d find yourself without a response to give. Because Atsumu wasn’t obligated to tell you such things, he could have kept that secret with him, leaving you knowing none the better. Though, fundamentally, Atsumu is an honest man, almost to a fault.
An uncomfortable moment of silence passes. Atsumu shifts, becoming uneasy, flighty: signs that he’s readying to fill the quiet with stumbled words of his own before you speak.
“I should be the one apologizing, it was—” you murmur out, your heart beating beyond its utter humiliation. You can’t find it in yourself to knot the end of your sentence. Your best friend, the man who would reach every length for you, heard you moaning his name in the privacy of your bedroom.
What more is there to say?
Atsumu finishes with his bath, pulling the drain, rising carefully as you turn your head away. You’re embarrassed, he knows, and he wants to apologize for that alone as well; it was one of the many reasons he debated on telling you this.
Stepping out of the bathtub, Atsumu takes a towel from its holder, placing it around the circle of his hips. You remain looking toward the door, not at him, when he walks toward you. It hurts him, and he knows it hurts you too, this wall now being built between your bodies, between the decades of time spent learning one another, knowing. But Atsumu is a man on the brink of losing what he loves after years of only watching from afar.
So let him hold your heavy burdens and heavy hands. Let him drown in you and understand what life may be.
Let him be yours.
“Hey,” he says, softly.
Your eyes look toward him before your head moves along. You’re wracked with panic, your wide stare and tight mouth, the way you curl in on yourself. “‘Tsumu,” you say his name like a warning you don’t entirely mean.
“Please, just listen to me.”
“No, hold on, please.”
You’re imperceptibly moving away from where he stands in front of you, near pressing yourself against the vanity mirror. He sees it, then sees your chest rising and falling quickly, shaking your head when you close your eyes.
“Earlier…” he begins, sounding breathless because this is likely his last chance to tell you this. “Earlier, when ya’ asked why I went to dinner with Misato, and I told ya’ I was tryin’ to change somethin’—” he swallows again, water dripping down his hair, into his face “—I was tryin’ to see if…if the way I feel for ya’ is just circumstance or…”
“What?” you ask, your question barely audible.
Atsumu had imagined this moment many times over, even as a child. Professing his crush on you in primary school through a bouquet of fine flowers; admitting his affections in middle school by offering homemade desserts; telling you that he loved you in high school whilst handing you a beautiful necklace. However he had believed this would occur, he would not have guessed he’d be in a towel, wet, with you on a bathroom counter, confused and ashamed.
And the words are shaky when he tells them to you, but their meaning is not lost. “I’m in love with ya’.”
Your lips part, breath quickening. “What?” you ask, again.
Atsumu, decidedly, continues. “I’ve loved ya’ since we were kids—I always have and I know I should’ve told ya’ earlier, but, fuck, I feel like I can’t think straight when I’m around ya’.”
And, now, you’re staring at him, wholly dumbfounded, your legs pulled up to your chest.
“Please, say somethin’.” The behest is spoken as if constricted, small, hoarse.
You whisper his name, rubbing your hands at your face, unsure of what else you can communicate. Seeing him like this, hearing him say these things to you, the remnants of your previous shame still lacerating: it’s overwhelming, rampant in how it takes hold of you. “‘Tsumu…” you repeat, now imploring.
He sets his hands gingerly on your knees, feeling you startle beneath his touch, before he pushes down, lowering your legs from your body. “I didn’t know when to tell ya’ all of this, and ‘m sorry for doin’ it now, but I don’t—I don’t know much longer I can do this without some sort of closure.”
You watch him, something akin to dazedness and disbelief on your features. He thinks he likely looks the same.
Atsumu continues, remembering the conversation he had had with his brother after you sprained your ankle. “This thing, this circlin’, around each other is drivin’ me up a wall and I need ya’ to say somethin’.”
His palms are still on your knees when he finishes, awaiting your answer. He’s closer now, a worry-line etched between his brows.
There are many thoughts that come to you then: a younger Atsumu tugging you along a forest’s path; the high school games he wanted you to attend, finding you in the crowd each time; the touches and the embraces and the laughter; the kiss he had asked for to be placed on his cheek. Above it all, however, is the thought, a determined knowledge, that you love him too.
“...You’re terrible at this,” you laugh quietly, woundedly, still apprehensive, but it’s enough to soothe. And lifting your hand, you place it over his own, the one holding your right knee, to squeeze it in kind.
“Well, I’ve never had to do this before.” Atsumu watches, wholly content with just being able to see you, as you move that hand upward and hesitate.
Don’t stop, he thinks, inclining his head closer to your hand. You curve your fingers around his face, press your palm to his cheek before you wipe your thumb along his skin, taking a water droplet away. He sighs like there couldn’t possibly be a greater feeling than you touching him.
His own hands move to brace themselves beside your legs, needing you to set the pace before he loses himself to it all entirely.
You tell him, a whisper really, “I love you, too,” before you pull him closer and he lets you.
A smile adorns his face, a bright, relieved one that you hadn’t seen in so long when he rests his forehead against your own, breathing out unsteadily. “Can I kiss ya’ now?”
Putting your inhibitions aside, mollifying your previous embarrassment, you nod. Atsumu keeps his hands on the counter, feeling the tips of your fingers lower from his face to rest on the nape of his neck as he leans in, and pauses.
His nose nudges yours, offering a moment of recollection in the chance that you might not want this. But you don’t writhe away from him, you don’t push him out of your space. Atsumu presses his lips to yours, tilting his head, focusing on this careful kiss just as he had when you placed your own to his cheek. And his blunt nails curl against the cold countertop, grounding himself while he feels the warmth of you.
The kiss is short, testing, fragile, until it ends. You pull back first, still close enough to share breath when you look down and see his knuckles whitening. The sudden thought that Atsumu is holding himself back has you flushing further, reaching down to unfurl his hands.
Something changes in him then, the desperation returning with haste. He kisses you again, deeper, inhaling sharply, bringing his hand to your hip and holding you. You try to keep up with him, with the idea that Atsumu is kissing you as if you might be taken from him.
A small sound comes from your throat when you feel his fingers press into the fat of your hip, hearing him move closer. The kiss slows until he offers a parting one to the corner of your mouth, dipping his head by your shoulder, needing to settle himself.
“Should we…?” Stop?
You’re near panting when he speaks those words, pressing your temple against the side of his neck, water slipping from his hair and onto yours.
“‘S this too much?” he asks, subdued, cautious.
You place your lips beneath his ear in reassurance, your hand running up through his undercut. You’re nervous, just as he is. “Don’t stop,” you tell him, like you pulled the very words from his previous thoughts.
He listens to you, heeds you, because there’s no one who knows himself better than you. Atsumu stands with your legs bracketing him now, giving a kiss to your shoulder, your throat, silently asking you to tip your head back for him.
He can’t bring himself to think about how he had been to dinner with another woman only two hours or so ago. How can he possibly care about anything other than you and him at this very moment?
In that small bathroom, it remains the two of you and nothing more. His kisses and yours, the need to touch each other and be close. You don’t know how long you stay there with him, learning his body in a far different way, and neither does he.
“If we’re gonna continue,” he adjusts your hair, smooths it, scarcely leaning back, “I want ya’ to be a bit comfier than this.”
From the hand he has on your upper leg, you feel his thumb brush the bare skin there. How far do you want to go? he seems to be asking you.
And you tell him, “Okay,” content and willing.
“‘S it alright if I bring ya’ to bed?”
Instinctually, you mean to press your legs closed at the sudden warmth brought on by his question, but they merely tighten at his hips when you shift on the countertop. He catches the minute sensation, his chest and shoulders expanding with breath, though he says nothing until you nod.
He steps out from between your legs, keeping a hand at your waist when he smiles, a lopsided thing. “Yeah? You gonna let me carry ya’ like a gentleman?”
You almost want to find humor in how Atsumu’s demeanor has changed entirely from when he first returned home. Coming through the apartment frustrated and irate, now kissing you, touching you, giving himself to you.
You do, however, manage to huff a short, abashed laugh as you say, “Of course.”
Atsumu brings an arm behind your back, the other holding at your knees when he lifts you, making sure your hands keep securely to him. He thinks of the irony in that moment, of the time he carried you out of the bathroom, only a towel tucked around your body.
He mentions it, naturally, wanting to elicit a reaction from you that might assuage this timid headspace you’ve found yourself in. And it does, even if you shove patiently at his shoulder for bringing it up.
His bed is unmade, cold from the absence of the body that usually habits it, as he places you gently by the headboard. You lean back against it, further into his large pillows when he pinches your cheek in jest. Atsumu moves away, toward the other end of his bedroom.
“Where’re you going?” you ask, beginning to lift yourself.
He turns, brows crooked up. “‘M just gonna change real quick.” Then he pauses, runs his fingers through his wet hair. “I didn’t wanna assume anythin’.”
So, he quickly pulls on another pair of briefs and sweatpants, inwardly amused at how you look away from him when he does such.
He returns to you afterward, stopping momentarily at the edge of his bed. You peer up at him, tilt your head as if to ask, “What?” And Atsumu shakes his head to say, “Nothin’.”
Truthfully, he’s thinking of how lovely you are, perched on his bed, lying in the sheets and blankets that smell like him. But it isn’t long until he’s bringing you into his lap, wanting you to be as close as you’ll let him.
His kisses are slower here, purposeful, sensual in a way that makes you hold tighter to him, unconsciously pressing yourself further into him. And he’s hard already—has been since he had you in the bathroom, though he tried to hide it. Now, however, you shift forward and Atsumu’s hand guides you at your waist to do it again. His mouth parts, a trembled inhale, when you move against his cock. He knows you feel it as well when there’s a hitch in your breath, breaking the kiss to look down, then at him.
“Sorry,” he tells you, a restrained murmur, suddenly remembering the last time he had you here, settled over him, when you hurried to move off of his lap.
Even so, this is wholly different, evident when you reassure him that it’s alright, kissing him once more, cradling his face in such a way that has him sighing. You rock yourself over him again, listening to that sigh bleed into a soft moan.
He’s quick to place you on your back then, bracing himself above you with one arm as the other wanders your body.
“S’this okay?” His hand follows the edge of your lounge shorts, up to the dip in your waist.
You nod, because if you spoke, you know it would sound utterly breathless.
Atsumu touches along your very being, observing the innate reactions you have to each one; this is how he learns, physically, inherently. He feels your nails bite into his skin, watches you writhe, hears your quiet panting.
When he places his knee between your legs, inclining your hips to better settle over him, he sees your head bow back into his pillow.
“‘Tsumu,” you whimper, his name buried somewhere in the sheets as he kisses at your neck, your shoulders.
Soon after, he’s helping to remove your shirt and shorts, your breasts now bare, leaving your underwear untouched, though he can see where you’re wet already. The sight itself has him subconsciously rutting into the bed; a meager attempt at staving off the pressure that nearly addles him.
“So much for not wanting to assume anything,” you smile as Atsumu begins to take off the sweatpants he wears, and he offers you a similar expression, laughing softly before he returns to you.
Placing himself between the plush of your thighs once more, he says, “‘M clean, by the way. I got tested sometime ago, n’ I haven’t slept with anyone since then.”
You move your hand through his hair, simply wanting to feel him. “So am I.”
He hums at that, pleased as he taps a finger at your underwear in a silent question. You make to push them down your legs when he stops you.
“Jus’ lean back for me,” he tells you at the questioning twist of your face. Though, it quickly gives way when he presses a thumb to your clothed clit, moving down, back up. He continues this, enthralled in the expressions you give him, until your heel digs into the small of his back, wanting more.
Atsumu removes your underwear, lowering himself to your cunt, looking up at you to ensure you still want this. He rests the bend of your knees over his shoulders, leaning down. The first touch of his mouth to you is a kiss to your inner thigh, then another to the next, moving inward to hover; he wants to continue building this tension, knowing the culmination of your orgasm will be better in the end. And Atsumu waits only a moment more, peering up at you, giving a gentle squeeze to your thigh when he catches your eye and holds it as he licks at your cunt.
You’re only able to watch that brief moment when your body arches toward him, the sight of Atsumu’s contented grin the last you see as your eyes shut tight, lips parting. He brings his tongue to your clit, sucking, laving, easing himself away to put his attention elsewhere. And, distantly, you sense the pressure of his arms around your thighs increase as you steadily approach your climax, beginning to writhe in his hold.
He licks and kisses and pushes his tongue inside you with a fervor that has your hand lowering to tangle into his hair. Because it’s loud, and you can hear how wet you are with the way Atsumu works his mouth on you, groaning around your clit when you accidentally tug; it’s a needy sound from him, almost broken.
And he takes his time giving you everything he has to offer. Adjusting his movements, learning from where you guide his head, pulling you taut and doing it anew. Many moments he comes far too close to cumming, untouched, before he steadies himself again. For now, this is about your pleasure, bringing you comfort, trust and safety.
Truly, he could finish like this: his head between your legs, pleasuring you with just his mouth, listening and feeling and seeing you. But he can scarcely think, giving himself entirely for you to use. And when you reach that climax, warning Atsumu with a keen of his name, you tense around him; the hand in his hair trembles weakly, as does your body. He maintains the rhythm he’s built, returning to your clit, wanting you to move against his face as you cum. As so, he keeps his mouth there, slowly bringing you down.
The hand in his hair tightens as the overstimulation begins. “Too much, too much, ‘Tsumu.”
Atsumu lets go, and you can feel from where he has your legs that he’s breathing hard, his shoulders rising and falling. He offers lighter kisses to the inside of your knee, his lips wet from both you and him, donning a smile that leaves you susceptible to any connotation of love one can believe.
You must be utterly reeling from your orgasm, from him, because Atsumu returns to place himself above you, cupping your face in his much larger hand. When you nearly begin to even your breaths, staring up at him with half-lidded eyes, Atsumu says warmly, “There she is.”
On instinct, you turn toward his touch, feeling his thumb stroke your skin, fix your hair again.
“Was that alright?” he asks, partially rhetorical.
A fond, quiet laugh uncovers itself between your teeth when you bring him closer, holding him, settling a kiss to his cheek as he wipes a hand down his lower face, finding pleasure in the way he still tastes you on his tongue.
And, perhaps, it’s how you look at him then: loving, adoring, appraising; or, maybe he’s finally lost himself to you, if he hadn’t already. But Atsumu’s thumb tucks beneath your chin, keeping you there. He wants to watch your face as he holds himself over you, his unoccupied hand slipping downward, gradually pushing two fingers into your cunt. Curling them upward, using the pads of his fingers to stimulate, he feels you tense around him, your chest hitching again.
Atsumu pulls away, his middle and ring finger wet with your previous orgasm just as his lips had been. He cleans them with his mouth, catching how your eyes widen slightly.
Shifting back, he asks, a bit restless, “Can I?”
You manage a soft, “Yes,” as you take hold of his shoulder, bringing him closer to share a brief kiss before Atsumu reaches toward his nightstand, still keeping one hand on you as he does so.
It’s then that you’re able to fully see him, no longer caught in his ministrations. His erection strains at his briefs, a wet spot where his cock leaks. You want to touch him, brush your fingers there, but Atsumu rises from the bed to remove his own underwear, grabbing the condom and settling himself between your legs.
Dark hair begins beneath his navel, strewing down toward his reddened cock. He strokes himself once, twice, his jaw tightening, eyes falling shut for a moment. Rolling the condom on, a hand finds your thigh again like some form of physical reassurance to still have you there.
“Can’t believe we’re doin’ this,” he murmurs, and his words are tender along your throat. You smile as your palms smooth over his chest, his arm. Atsumu lifts your right knee, resting your leg on his hip; his entire body folds over you, long limbs and trained muscles warm, taut, when he guides himself in. And, forehead falling to yours, Atsumu moans shakily along with you as the tip of his cock fits inside.
He stills then, his head coming to your collarbone. “‘M not gonna last long,” he tells you, swallowing. You assuage him with feathering kisses, lighter touches, that have him fully pushing in until his hips are flush with yours.
The pleasure is overwhelming; the idea itself of being intimate with you like this is wholly devastating to his self-control, as is the way your breasts move with your breath, how your pinkened lips part to say his name. He rocks into you, a grinding motion, muffling the whine that catches on his tongue by kissing you. Atsumu does it again, bracing an arm by your head that you wrap your hand around, feeling him tremble when he continues fucking you.
Through some lucidity, he alternates between different rhythms, finding the one that brings both you and him pleasure, stimulating your clit when his hand isn’t grabbing at your body. And he’s pressed against you, taking your breath just to give you his own. Because there’s a devoutness in how he fucks, holding you, rutting into you, telling you, “‘M all yours—always have been,” between suppressed groans and desperate keens.
It’s that confession in particular, those words that could only be formulated by his unadulterated love, along with the way he works your body, that has you holding tightly to him.
Atsumu lets you curl into yourself, lets you grasp the muscle along his back, as he feels you approach your second orgasm. When you finally reach that crest, your cunt tightening around him, he helps prolong it until your body loosens.
But he’s quick to succumb to the pleasure after you do. Atsumu presses his face into the bend of your neck and shoulder, his mouth falling open as he fucks you with abandon, rutting his cock into you by the base need that he’s close and it’s you he does this with. His rhythm begins to falter and you can feel his nose nudge at you, his hair damp from the sweat and his previous shower.
He whimpers brokenly as his body tenses, only moving now by the desire to be as deep within you as possible; his cock twitches, his moans stuttering, with every wave of his climax as he cums. You cradle the back of his head to you, watching how he moves, how your best friend comes undone.
You both remain there for a moment, quiet, panting, holding one another in the remnants of the pleasure.
Atsumu lifts his head, cheeks flushed, smiling as he asks, “This mean ‘m your boyfriend now?”
The laughter you give is affectionate, bright, breathless.
“Yes, ‘Tsumu,” you tell him, speaking through the smattering of kisses he places on your face and anywhere else within his vicinity.
Because, surely, friends don’t do this.
“I’m still embarrassed that you heard me that night. Why didn’t you say something before?”
Atsumu hums in thought behind you, lathering your hair now as you sit in the tub together, hot water lapping at your bodies. “I didn’t wanna interrupt ya’,” he says, a bit unsurely. “And you…” He trails off.
You turn your head slightly to discern what expression he wears. Though, Atsumu continues working in the shampoo on your head. Absent-mindedly, he thinks of how this night began here, in this bathroom, and will end here as well.
“And I?” you ask, attempting to follow the sentence.
“You sounded nice—sayin’ my name like that,” Atsumu murmurs, returning you to face forward. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to hear that from ya’.”
The sigh you exhale is a contented one, causing you to lean further into his body.
That is, until Atsumu suddenly says, “I also found your vibrator one time, since we’re on the topic of ‘things-I-didn’t-tell-you’.”
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