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bagsyy · 7 months

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ONLY FOOLS RUSH IN

warnings! 18+ mdni, fem!reader, oral (m receiving), slight throatfucking/overstim if you squint, cum swallowing, lovesick atsumu. 1.6k words not proofread at all because if i look at it again i’ll throw up. happy birthday atsumu<3

atsumu’s brain has felt hazy for a while now. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it had started though. he didn’t have the mental fortitude to. he’s not sure if it began when he saw a glimpse of you getting ready in the bathroom. you were sitting atop the counter wearing one of his shirts as you curled your eyelashes. you pretended to scold him for daring to look at you before the wedding.

“it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, dummy. if we ever get divorced it’s gonna be your fault” you say, hitting the tube of mascara against the heel of your palm.

“want me to piss with my eyes closed?” atsumu snaps his head at you. “i’m not that talented, baby.”

“you know what? i think i’m actually getting cold feet. maybe we shouldn’t get married.” atsumu is silent for a moment before he leans back and pokes his head through the crack in the door. “really? they seemed pretty warm to me when you were beggin me to book the next flight here. ‘i just wanna get married, tsumu! i don’t wanna wait! i’ll marry you right now.’” he mocks you in a high-pitched voice.

“that is not what i sound like! can you save the theatrics for when you’re not actively pissing?” you side eye him, unable to prevent yourself from letting out a soft laugh. “m’trying to get ready, atsumu. i don’t wanna look ugly when we get married in front of an elvis impersonator.”

“sweetheart, we both know that’s impossible” atsumu says as he walks to the sink next to where you’re sat atop the bathroom counter. “you tryin to look good for another man? you’re killin me” atsumu’s honey colored eyes lock with yours, and you swear he’s never looked more lovesick in his life.

it was only after that, he decided, that you were really killing him.

it was his idea to do a “first look” in the hotel room before the two of you left to get hitched. his argument was that a lot of people get married in las vegas, what if he loses you in the crowd and he accidentally marries the wrong person because he can’t remember the dress you were wearing?

your phone is propped up on the window, hidden from atsumu’s view but still in the perfect position to capture this moment. the two of you are standing back to back, and you can feel him getting antsy as he clenches and unclenches his hands, fiddling with the sleeves of his suit. it’s cute, really, how soft atsumu gets when he’s with you. his heart never ceases to pound every time you take his hand in yours and squeeze it three times. when you kiss the crease between his furrowed eyebrows when his stress is visibly consuming him. when it’s 3 in the morning and you can’t sleep, so you softly whisper atsumu’s name until he wakes up and you beg him to stay up with you so you have someone to talk to.

“okay. we turn around on three.” you reach behind you, searching for atsumu’s hand with your own. his fingers intertwine with yours as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, feeling the absolute rock on your left hand brush against his knuckles. “one, two, three” you turn around to face each other, and atsumu looks like he’s about to pass out. the two of you are completely unable to form any coherent thoughts, just softly laughing in shock as you take each other in.

atsumu looks handsome as ever, messy blonde hair styled into something more neat and presentable. he looks like a husband, you think to yourself. you imagine a day where the two of you are sat out on your front porch, watching the sun setting over the horizon as soft beams of light glimmer on the laugh lines and crows feet adorning atsumu’s face. and you swear you’ll love him then just as much as you do right now.

atsumu smoothes his hands over his suit jacket. “damn baby, i’m feelin a little underdressed next to you.” you don’t miss how his voice quivers ever so slightly. “you didn’t tell me you were gonna look this gorgeous.”

your hand is still in his, and he lifts your arm up to get a better look at you. your dress is simple, satin, knee length with a slight v-neckline. it’s not the most intricate dress, but it’s timeless. elegant. you’re wearing a simple gold necklace, one that atsumu gave you, that sits pretty on your collarbones. his favorite part about your entire getup is, by far, your veil. it’s secured to your hair with a pretty white bow and stops just a little bit past your shoulders. atsumu wipes the smallest tear from the corner of his eyes and sniffles a little bit before pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you. in typical atsumu fashion, his hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass and you jump in surprise. “c’mon let’s make you a miya” atsumu grins.

the next two hours are a complete blur. you were all satin and soft skin, and atsumu felt like he was going to pass out at any given moment. he hardly remembers anything, really. he’s extremely grateful that you found a chapel that included a recording of the ceremony in the cost, because the only thing he can remember at this very moment is the man in the pink suit and aviator glasses telling him to kiss his bride. he’s been ready to marry you for nearly as long as he’s loved you, and there was nothing else going on inside his little brain besides making you his wife.

but now, here in this hotel room, he’s sure he’s been lobotomized.

“atsumu” you pout as you pull away from his cock, resting your head against his toned thigh. “you’re gonna rip my veil.” your hand squeezes his sensitive tip, demanding his attention.

“shit, shit baby m’sorry. just tryin to hold it for you” he throws his head back into the pillow, upset by the sudden loss of warmth from your mouth. “i’ll buy you another one just—please. please baby” he whines. “what kinda wife would leave me hangin like that?” he peers down at you, grinning ever so slightly. it’s amazing how he still manages to be cocky when you have him like this.

“what kind of husband-” you pause, softly nipping his inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss on it as an apology, “-rips his wife’s veil because he can’t keep still when his dick is in her mouth?”

“said m’sorry” he whines, throwing one of his arms over his eyes. you place more kisses along his inner thigh, slowly making your way back to his cock. you kiss the base of his shaft, trailing all the way up to his leaky tip. it jumps with every single kiss. “do something. please, angel.”

you give in, lightly licking the underside of his dick before taking him into your mouth. you hollow your cheeks around him and he bucks into you, fat tip hitting the back of your throat. atsumu groans as you swallow around him. you try your best not to gag, but atsumu is too fucking big. no matter how many times you’ve done this, it still takes you a second to become fully accustomed to him.

“god damn baby, shit” atsumu’s lower abdomen begins to twitch as you continue to bob your head. “so pretty. y’look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. so fuckin’ messy.” and he’s right. between the heated makeout session that led up to this and the sheer amount of spit that’s on atsumu’s dick, what’s left of your crimson red lipstick is smeared all over the both of your faces, on his thighs, near the base of his cock. and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

your hand left hand strokes what can’t fit in your mouth as you continue to swipe your tongue on the underside of his fat pink tip, and your right hand moves to cup his balls. he looks so fucking pretty like this. you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every pretty sound your husband makes. you moan around him, and his hand grips your hair (and veil) just a little bit tighter. atsumu is whimpering at this point, face beet red as he looks down at you.

“gonna make me cum. please make me cum. you gonna swallow, pretty girl?”

you let out a soft hum, giving him an unspoken “yes.” he doesn’t last much longer after that, spilling his seed into your mouth with a deep groan. he moans your name and babbles something about how much he loves his pretty wife, how you’re so perfect, so good for him. you swallow everything he gives you, and you kiss his tip as you take him out of your mouth. not being able to resist the urge, you start to jerk him off, and he lets out a choked sob.

“okay, okay. s’enough. it’s enough baby, fuck” he tugs on his blonde hair, back arching.

“oh? is it, though?” you coo at him, admiring the way he looks right now. he constantly does the same shit to you, eating you out until your legs lock and you can’t stop shaking. but when he’s the one on the receiving end, he’s far whinier.

atsumu grabs you by your wrist and pulls you on top of him before you can overstimulate him any further. you yelp as you fall onto his chest, placing your head on his shoulder. “wanna kiss my wife now” he pouts, tilting his head to kiss you. he can taste himself on your tongue and it makes him sigh into your mouth. he runs his fingers down your back, tracing the curvature of your spine. “that was some of your best work, mrs. miya.”

#remember when i said trashy vegas wedding w atsumu?#remember #this post is sponsored by orange celsius and za #sorry for making atsumu so pathetic it’s because he is pathetic #thank you to my baby leah for entertaining my atsumu brainrot for the past month #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #atsumu miya smut #en ess eff double you

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