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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year

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𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭

♡ sure, he has a girlfriend, but she just isn't you ♡ (aka how hq men would react to you asking them how their gf would feel about what you're doing rn)

♡ featuring: ᴀᴋᴀᴀsʜɪ, ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ, ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ, ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ cheating, nsfw mdni, afab reader she/her pronouns, individual tags for each~

♡ i will write a part two to this if people want it (send me an ask with a name and i'll do it, really, i swear), and maybe even if they don't because i'm obsessed with this concept fr. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

♡ the song that inspired this entire thing (xxx) ♡ wrote this same vibe w atsumu but its a whole fic (xxx)

♡ akaashi ♡ 1 day // guilty fucking, just can't help himself

“f-fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this,” he tells you, voice not nearly are strong as you’re sure he means it to be. he pushes his hips forward again, sliding his cock slowly inside of you, thumb spreading your lips apart so that he can watch himself disappear inch by inch.

he’s nearly crumbling in front of you, fucking in and out of you, one word punctuating each thrust. “we… shouldn’t…. be… doing…. this….” his voice is just as shaky as his forearms bracing you.

his forehead falls against your shoulder, moaning into your soft skin. he presses kisses wherever he can reach, trailing up your collarbones to the sensitive areas of your neck and the underside of your jaw.

akaashi is really not the type of guy to cheat on his girlfriend, he swears. but he just couldn’t help himself. when the opportunity presented itself, he really had no other option.

not when you looked like that, sitting so pretty on his couch when she wouldn’t be back for the entire weekend. not when you smiled like that when he pushed your hair out of your face. not when he could convince himself that it really meant nothing. it couldn’t have, not when he’s thinking about her so much.

and then he kisses you, warm and breathy and sweet enough to give you a toothache. not a fucked out, gasping for air, desperate to touch you just to touch something, but one that gives you butterflies and makes you feel closer than his skin on yours

lips pressed against yours, meticulously thrusting into you so he can savor every second. he can barely breathe.

when he finally pulls away, looks you in the eyes, gaze confident and unwavering, and you let it slip past your slightly parted lips. “how would your girlfriend feel about it?”

it’s quiet and low, softer than the sounds of his moans or the obscene smack of his hips against the inside of your thighs. you watch the blush spread, up his chest and neck to the highs of his cheekbones, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter for a moment, speaking confidently now, but no less indulgent.

“she wont find out.”

♡ atsumu ♡ 8 months // little bit toxic ngl, blatant disregard for their partner

the first few times that you and atsumu slept together, there was remorse on both ends. over time, though, it just started getting easier to justify and to excuse. the two of you melded perfectly and the more nights you spent together, the better it got.

neither of you have felt bad about it in awhile.

“fuck me any softer and i’ll mistake you for my boyfriend or something,” you huff.

in fact, you both horribly go as far as to teasing each other at your own partner’s unknowing expense. you wrap your arms around atsumu’s neck, pulling him down until you’re able to press your nose into his shoulder, breathing softly against it.

“hey, no talking about your boyfriend. you know i get jealous,” he says, dragging his teeth against your collarbone cautiously so as not to make a mark. he doesn’t bring any attention to how his pace picks up, fucking into you faster as the insides of your thighs start to sting.

"yea?" you say, rolling your hips in time with his thrusts, "and what about your girlfriend?"

the scoff that erupts from his chest nor the thought of his girlfriend disrupt his rhythm. "you're the one that brought her up. what about her?" he asks, placing soft kisses against your chest where he can reach.

you shake your head, arm leaving his neck to cup his face in your hand, pull his eyes to yours, "not good enough."

he knows what you're looking for, can see it in the devilishly sweet smile on your face as your eyes scan his features. he almost wishes that his reason for hesitancy wasn't what it was. the pauses, the insufficient answers, he knows they aren't in the name or regret or guilt, they're just to tease you, to keep you waiting for the answer he knows you want. "she’s not here, we don’t have to worry about her," atsumu teases, leaning forward to kiss your lips this time.

you turn your head at the last second, let his gentle kiss press against your jaw instead as you repeat yourself, "not good enough."

he sighs, faux and dramatic, reaches his fingers over to nudge your face back towards him once more. when he leans down again, his tender grasp on your chin begs you to stay put. you lean up towards him as much as you can to meet his kiss. when he pulls away, his forehead is still pressed against yours, sentence is murmured against your lips, "well, it’s no competition, really, between the two of you."

"yea?" you ask again, core fluttering, tightening as your walls grip him desperately. "only one of us has your heart, right, tsumu?"

"fuck," he says, hips stuttering as he nods, "fuck, that's right, baby."

♡ bokuto ♡ 2 weeks // super desperate, only somewhat guilty

“god, when do i get to see you again?” he asks, all teeth and tongue and desperate, throaty pleas against your chest. his hands are just as frantic as his facial expression, roaming over every part of you without rooting once.

he isn’t even inside of you yet, and he's already looking forward to next time.

it was supposed to just be a one night thing, you and him. and if it was one night out, complete mistake, he could’ve explained it with alcohol or a lapse in judgement. but that was 2 weeks ago.

because no one told him how much he’d be craving you every single fucking night after that. no one told him how much he'd remember your touch and the weight of the backs of your thighs on his hips and how pretty you sounded and how soft your skin was and how fucking tight you were.

no one told him that he'd need to see you 5 times in those two weeks, like you were his new obsession that would quickly turn into a bad habit.

you’ve kept quiet about it, the fact that you knew he had a girlfriend in the first place. you've honestly just been enjoying yourself, skating around the topic or deliberately avoiding it, fearful that if you mention it he’ll run.

you don't really know where it comes from. truthfully, it just slips out because it's on your mind, because he asks you as if it's not on his mind at all, "how does your girlfriend feel about it?"

he stops for a second, movements ceasing, facial expression thoughtful, only constant his chest rising and falling at the same pace as before. you're convinced, all at once, that your fun is over, that tonight won't go as planned, maybe you should've at least waited until you were finished.

his response is softer, more contemplative than the desperation fueled plea before, "how do you feel about it?"

you can't help but laugh, eyebrows furrowed, "i- i mean? fine, yeah, i don't," you take a deep breath, mentally flinching at how horrible it is before it even comes out of your mouth, "i don't really care. i'm having a good time."

his hands are back on your body, assured and quick, leaning down to place kisses against your chest and shoulders once again. "good, so when can i see you again?"

♡ tsukishima ♡ 4 months // tsukishima is an asshole, toxic and blamey, degrading almost, hot

“stay just like that,” he orders, arms crossed over one another, each of his hands on your opposite hips as he holds you still. no hand to guide his throbbing cock, he lets it slip between your lips a few times, missing your sloppy, drenched hole, grinding against your puffy lips. it feels like he’s almost missing on purpose, just loving the feeling of his length dragging across your messy pussy.

when he pushes inside of you, he does so slowly but forcefully, rolls his hips and thrusts his cock as deep as it’ll fucking go.

“fuck, you’re so goddamn tight, perfect for my cock,” he mutters aimlessly. you’re half convinced it’s just instinct, no purpose other than he couldn’t not let the words slip.

“how would your girlfriend feel about that?”

he is so ready with a comeback, it almost feels like he’s been waiting for this for your entire affair. you’ve never brought up his girlfriend before. too timid to say it aloud or afraid it would result in him leaving, it didn’t really matter.

over the last couple months, you’ve grown to know tsukishima pretty well, have learned to roll with the punches and throw a few right back at him and he’s so focused now, not too much attention on you, or at least not in that way, and as much as you want to chalk it up to an accident or slip of the tongue, you both know how deliberate it is

“aren't you just as much to blame as i am?” he retorts, not slowing or missing a beat, digging his fingers into your hips harsher, pulling you onto his cock harsher.

you open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off.

“i think it’s pretty much your fault, actually, looking like that and expecting me not to want you on the spot,” tsukishima mutters, can barely get it out with his smile turning into a smirk.

he wraps his fingers around your shoulder, other hand around your forearm and guides you up towards him, back pressed against his chest, head craned to the side so you can see the devilish look in his eyes. uses gravity and your weight and the small thrusts upwards to fuck you like this and your protest is mashed between whimpers and affirming moans.

“not-” huff “not my fault,” you gasp, pushing off of the bed in time with his movements until only the tip is inside of you and then falling completely seated onto his thick cock. “she’s not my girlfriend,” you reason.

there’s still no hesitation, fingers clenched onto your jaw to force eye contact as he speaks, “but you know about her, right? doesn’t that make you just as bad as me?” he grunts as he buries himself inside of you, teeth sinking into your shoulder. “maybe worse.”

it hits you softly and then all at once, this guilt. and then he starts fucking you harder, changes positions, moves both of your bodies until his weight is on your back, your chest pressed into the mattress as he fucks into you, hand around your throat and waist holding you tightly in place. it’s harder. and it’s faster. and it’s better than you’ve ever been fucked before, even than the other times you’ve been fucked by tsukishima. you’re clenching around him, stomach tense, and breath bare.

and then it’s gone again. you don’t even remember her name.

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drak3n · 3 months

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THE NEMESIS

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: love and hate are so close to each other for a reason.

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to strangers to lovers, neglectful parents, love triangles, high school drama, fights, swift mention of a bloody & bruised nose, reader was a misunderstood bully, makeup sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex

ꨄ. SENA'S NOTE: sorry for my inactivity y'all, a lot has been happening lately. anyways, this is over 5k words long so enjoy!

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it’s embarrassing to admit this, really. after all this time we’ve been apart from each other.”

atsumu and you didn’t always hate each other.

truthfully, you had started off getting along really well, even better than you’d gotten along with osamu. it was something no one could explain, until it all fell apart.

your story went all the way back to your second year of middle school, where the miyas had to move due to the twins’ mother having found a job on the other side of the prefecture. that meant the twins had to transfer schools as well.

it wasn’t like either of the two had difficulties at adapting to their new environments, given that they were quite popular because of their athleticism and their looks. even at their new school, their talent for volleyball made them climb up the ladder of fame in no time.

this is where you came in. a mean, popular girl who had no qualms about making other kids feel worse about themselves. everyone was careful not to cross paths with you or get on your bad side, afraid of your wrath.

the twins had been warned about your presence that lingered like a devil on the school grounds. “she hates boys who are loud and eccentric,” a classmate had told the two, and the younger twin shot a pointed look at the older, which made him glare back at him.

“the hell are ya starin’ at me for, samu!?”

“nothin’.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were the first person to approach me, although you knew what others thought of me. we were kids back then, but i haven’t forgotten.”

it was both a blessing and a curse to be avoided by everyone. you had your peace and no one was there to mess with you, but at times, it was really boring.

lunch breaks had to be the worst. if you ate your lunch at the hall, everyone would avoid you like the pest. you’d have a table that ten students could use, for yourself.

it was cold outside today, but you still sat on the bench in the yard, ignoring your growling stomach. your mother hadn’t been packing you lunch in a while, and you couldn’t find anything to shove into your bag last minute in the morning.

counting the coins you found in the pockets of your thin coat, you determined with a frown that it was nowhere near enough to buy even a cereal bar.

you could just bully some of the juniors into giving you money or their lunch. before you could stand up and march towards an innocent group of schoolkids playing tag on the other side of the yard, someone sat next to you.

your eyes narrowed at the sight of one of the new kids. you had no idea which of the two it was, given that you couldn’t distinguish a difference between them, and frankly, you didn’t really care. neither of the two shared a class with you anyway.

“hi, i’m atsumu, the older and cool twin!” he introduced himself, running a chubby hand through his thick, brown hair parted on the right. come to think of it, their hair was parted on different sides.

“whad’ya have for lunch? wanna swap? you can have my vegetables and cheese sandwich.” your eyes wandered down to the open box in his lap, filled with delicious bread and vegetables that made your mouth water. you haven’t even had breakfast this morning.

“why are you talking to me?” big, brown eyes widened at you dismissing him, when other girls would die for his attention. “i’ve already eaten.”

the loud growling of your stomach made you clutch your upper body, cheeks flaring in shame as the brunette grinned.

“liar! ya can have mine, y’know. here ya go.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were so obnoxious and insufferable to most, but i didn’t see that. i couldn’t care less about what you were like, when you were so nice to me.”

it hadn’t taken you too long to finally notice other differences between the twins. because sometimes when standing in front of either of them, you couldn’t quite tell if the part was on the left or right.

osamu’s eyes were a dark gray, while atsumu’s were brown, like molten chocolate. atsumu would always sound excited, his voice distinguishable from miles away, while osamu was more reserved and preferred calmness.

except for when the two were together, of course. atsumu was quite against introducing you to him, complaining to you that people always ended up liking his brother more, much to his chagrin.

but you were so alone all the time, so he dragged you along to watch him practice one day.

“hey… is that that girl?”

your body language was tense, the discomfort written all over your face as you gazed holes into the floors of the gym, where teammates of the twins were whispering among each other.

“i don’t think they want me here.” you didn’t look sad when you said it, nor did you look upset, it seemed like you’d already accepted it. atsumu had known you for weeks, and osamu had just met you, but it was the first time the two stepped up to defend someone instead of bickering at each other like they did all the time.

“hey, ya pricks! are ya not ashamed to be pickin’ on a girl?”

it had resulted in a fight, with the other members of the volleyball team complaining loudly about how atsumu was such a loudmouth despite being new, telling him to shut up.

it was the wrong timing perhaps, because punches started being thrown, but as you intervened and kicked the boys who dared to lay a hand on either of the twins, a feeling of fuzzy warmth spread inside of you as you could only think of the boy who shared his lunches with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“sometimes, i wish i could go back to relive those days. what i wouldn’t do to have you share one of your lunchboxes with me or have you include me in your life one more time.”

middle school seemed to pass in a blur, and you three graduated together, already knowing you’d be attending the same high school.

neither of you had the best grades or the best reputation, but at the end of the day, you happily held the certificates in your hands, having the twins’ parents snap photos of you three. one of those photos that had been taken that day, with atsumu and you shyly standing next to each other, would soon be framed and placed on your nightstand.

your parents didn’t attend. the sight of all students being hugged, kissed and celebrated by their families, while you were on your own chipped away at your heart.

“hey!” atsumu’s loud voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts, and he pointed at his parents looking through osamu’s report while smiling. “what’re ya bein’ so gloomy for? my parents are waitin’!”

with furrowed brows, you stared at the brunette, not quite understanding what he meant by that. you were going to head home, why would mr. and mrs. miya be waiting for you?

“we’re goin’ to this great barbecue place at the mall!” atsumu had told you about it before, the miyas had a tradition of going there for birthdays or other celebrations. it almost made you envious, because you didn’t have that.

“is that so?” you smiled at him, “have fun, tsumu. i’ll see you after the holidays.”

before you could turn around and leave, the boy tugged at your sleeve, pulling you back and towards his parents. you were stunned.

“i saved up all year to pay for yer meal! made my parents reserve an extra seat for you!”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it all went to hell when my pride got in the way. when you started hanging out with that girl, and i felt threatened by her.”

it was in your second year of high school when things had started shifting between you two. you were more than used to the fans who went crazy for the two, which progressively started getting unbearable at some point.

flooded lockers with letters and chocolates they’d share with you, countless confessions you’d hear and see, and girls bombarding you with favors of getting them closer to either of the twins.

you could live with that. after all, they weren’t popular for no reason. they were handsome, very much so, and they were volleyball prodigies, scoring countless points for inarizaki at each game.

there was one girl who had gotten atsumu’s attention as much as he had gotten hers. they were in the same class, too. it was osamu who told you they had started hanging out when you were surprised about them going to get lunch together, with him nudging her side and making her chuckle.

you had woken up half an hour earlier just to prepare a lunchbox you could share with the blonde. but at the end of the day, you sullenly sat at the same table with osamu and the rest of the team, staring at the untouched food. the atmosphere was awkward, and the boys exchanged glances, clueless as to if they should speak up and ask you what’s wrong.

“that looks really good.” of course suna was the first to talk, narrow eyes peering over at your lunch. “why aren’t ya eatin’ it?”

aran shook his head at the middle blocker’s directness, and osamu frowned when you shoved the pink box towards suna, no more having an appetite after watching atsumu and that girl sitting together. “you can have it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“jealousy is truly an ugly thing. so is love. it makes you do questionable things. but all i wanted was to protect you from heartbreak, even if it was at the expense of my own heart.”

the more time atsumu spent with her, the more worried you got. especially since there was some sort of sixth sense telling you that she was bad news.

you hated her for taking atsumu away from you, yes. but if she had been good for him, you would’ve accepted it, no matter how difficult. it was just that you knew she was no good.

“‘samu, i heard her talking to her girl friends in the dressing rooms after P.E.” you had bolted to osamu’s desk before the class would start, hair disheveled from the former class, and you were out of breath.

the younger miya quirked a thick brow at your words, “emma, you mean?” you nodded frantically, “she’s just using him for popularity. said she wants to dump him when he gets famous after high school, and she does too.”

osamu wasn’t really interested in entertaining any drama, especially when it came to his annoying brother. he could see how concerned you were for him though, and he couldn’t blame you for it. atsumu was very important to you, after all.

“are ya sure?” it wasn’t like he didn’t believe you. he just thought it might be a stretch. how was emma going to lead atsumu on for over a year, and how could she be so sure that he was going to be famous after high school?

“maybe she was just kiddin’. are ya sure you’re not just jealous?”

you were biting your lip, looking truly troubled. you did not want to ruin things, but you had to help atsumu get away from that bitch. you could not allow her to ruin him.

“‘samu, i—”

“atsumu is 17. neither of us should have t’tell him what to do. he has to learn himself.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i had never planned on taking osamu’s advice from the second i heard it. in my mind, the only reasonable thing was to make her stay away from you.”

it was exactly a week later after gym class that you cornered the same girl against the lockers. no one else was around, and with a hand against her mouth, you made sure she didn’t call for any help.

“what are you—” a surprised squeal left her lips when you slammed her back against the locker one more time, to make her shut up. with wide eyes, she looked into yours that were void of any emotion.

she knew who you were. the twin’s childhood friend, atsumu’s close friend. too close for the brunette’s liking.

“listen,” you warned her, glowering at her like she was your worst enemy, “i know what you’re plannin’. i will tell you this this just this once: stay away from him.”

you thought it would have been enough to seperate those two, to keep atsumu safe. to have him back.

of course it wouldn’t be. you couldn’t have known. it wasn’t until the very next day that it all backfired. when you entered the school grounds in the morning, school bag thrown over your shoulder and lunch prepared in hopes of getting to spend time with atsumu today after a long time, you soon noticed that something was off.

everyone was staring at you, whispering and gossiping. it was an all-too familiar sight to you, it was nothing new. ignoring it all, you proceeded to your locker that was next to atsumu’s. just to be greeted by emma leaning against yours, arms crossed in front of her chest as she wore a hoodie you’d recognize anywhere. it belonged to atsumu.

“move,” you gritted your teeth as you forced your eyes away from the hoodie, ready to shove her aside. “or what?” she feigned a pout, kicking against the locker to get everyone’s attention on you two, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “gonna threaten and hurt me again to get what ya want? because you can’t handle that he never wanted you?”

everything around you got quiet, students looking at each other in disbelief, and your hands clenched into tight fists. still, you kept quiet, knowing it would be bad if you caved in first.

“oh wait, could it be?” she suddenly clapped her hands together, chuckling while you deadpanned at her, seemingly unaffected by her attitude, when in reality, you were boiling from the inside out. “did you really think he’d choose you over me? he would never stoop so low! in fact, he actually told me you were not—”

everything happened fast after that. she was on the floor before she could blink, screaming as your enraged self was on top of her, seeing red. it was when you were at the principal’s office with cotton up your bleeding and bruised nose, and the scratches on your cheeks from when emma’s friends had dragged you off of her, that you finally realized what you’d done.

it only filled you with regret when atsumu came to cradle a crying, hurt emma in his arms, yelling at you to never, ever look at either of the two again.

maybe you should have listened to osamu, after all.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“school after that was hell for me, understandably. i couldn’t blame anyone for not talking to me anymore, most of all, you. i didn’t have the right to be hurt by you taking emma to that barbecue place with your parents after high school graduation… but i cried a lot that day.”

osamu had tried to get atsumu to talk to you again. to not be so mad at you. but the blonde was blind to the eyes and deaf to whatever his brother would tell him, so he eventually gave up on that, too.

you were too prideful and hurt to approach atsumu either, pretending that you hated him for having done this to you. he was the cause that you were a loser again. that you lost the only people you had in your life.

couldn’t he just have treasured you more?

it was on the day of your high school graduation that you asked the younger twin to talk for just a minute. gray-haired boy looked down at you, round eyes blinking multiple times as you offered him a small smile.

“i just wanted to let you know that i’m moving to tokyo for college.” he just stared at you, knowing very damn well you weren’t in the mood to smile like you were doing right now. “i heard you’re opening a shop soon. maybe our paths will cross again one day.”

when osamu didn’t say anything, you took it as a hue to leave, again having neither of your parents to share your success of having graduated with you. you rummaged in your bag before you could leave though, holding a letter in your hand that your fingers were itching to hand to him. “can you just give this to—”

actually, no. it didn’t matter.

with glassy eyes, you dropped the envelope back into your bag, zipping it shut. “forget it. take care, ‘samu.”

you cried on your entire way home, until you went to sleep that night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i regret not having given osamu that letter to this day, even years later. i’ve just recently added these paragraphs, because i’ve made up my mind to make this letter reach you anyway.”

the volleyball match playing on the tv served as background noise while you went through the cleaned kitchen at the hotel restaurant you’d worked at. everyone else had left already, and all that was done was to check the inventory and make sure everything was where it should be.

while checking off certain tasks you had to make sure were done, you halfway listened to the interviews after the match was over. it hadn’t even dawned on you that it was his team that had played today.

“is there anything you want to tell your fans after the great victory today, miya-san?”

your entire body froze, pen dropping on the list as your tired eyes wandered to the television. he looked breathtaking as ever, even when he was covered in sweat.

“i wanna say somethin’ to a certain someone, actually.” his grin made your heart stop, baring his pearly whites as his voice was slightly hoarse from all the yelling on the court. “i’m sure she’s watchin’ this right now.”

the reporter looked at atsumu with a curious, bright smile as she waited for him to continue, microphone right below his panting mouth. “who’s the lucky woman?” she questioned, which made him beam at the cameras.

you didn’t feel addressed, too certain that he had another lover he wanted to say something to. about to turn the tv off and announce your work as done for the night, you were stopped when he opened his mouth again.

“my nemesis, you could say,” he took a deep breath after answering the shorter woman’s question, “i got your letter. you know where i’ll be!”

this couldn’t be a coincidence. you had missed today’s airing of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, and they had confirmed that atsumu had gotten the letter. it had to be you, there was no way he meant someone else.

after a quick research, you found out that the match was indeed aired live and had taken place in hyogo, where both of you had grown up in. where you had moved back to after college, because tokyo wasn’t your home, hyogo was.

you knew exactly which place atsumu hinted at, and like a flash, you passed by the hotel lobby to speed towards the location.

it hadn’t even taken you ten minutes to arrive at the school gates of inarizaki high school. it had been a stupid pinky promises between you two while you were still on talking term; to meet where things ended, shall they ever end.

standing at that spot made your gut churn with negative and positive feelings. things had ended indeed, heartbreakingly so. but perhaps this was a chance to make up again. to start from zero.

you waited for at least an hour, you were sure. time didn’t seem to pass like this, and the more you grew aware that it didn’t, the more agitated you became.

what if he didn’t show up?

what if he showed up, just to tell you to go fuck yourself?

“what am i even doing?” you laughed breathlessly, fiddling with the car keys in your pocket. you should just leave. this was absolutely stupid and delusional of you, to actually hope you were going to make up.

“hey.”

stopping in your tracks, you grew aware of the person dressed in black, standing in front of you. they were wearing a mask and had a hood over their head, and they could’ve just been a criminal about to rob you of your money, but you’d recognize those eyes and that voice from anywhere.

this time, you didn’t wait. you didn’t let your pride hold you back as you ran into his arms, dwarfed up by his massive body that had just gotten even bigger over the years. his arms caged you in his form, swallowing all your sobs and cries in his fluffy, black hoodie as he stood still, rubbing the back of your head in soothing circles.

he was there. atsumu actually came. he came to see you. he didn’t hate you anymore.

“i’m so sorry,” you cried for the fiftieth time in five minutes, barely able to pull away as snot and tears ran down your exhausted face. his heart broke at the sight, his own eyes blurring with a wave of tears. “i’m sorry for everything, ‘tsumu. please, please forgive—”

with gentle, warm hands placed on your damp cheeks, tracing over the scars that had been left on you from that fight, he shushed you. “it’s okay.” you hated the mask for muffling his beautiful voice, and you felt your heart crack when a tear slid down his eye, disappearing under the mask. “i’m the one who should be sorry. i was the worst to you. you didn’t deserve any of it.”

he started sniffling, and your mind went blank, eyes wide as you grabbed onto his hands, shaking him softly. “no, no,” you begged him, “i don’t want you to cry. please don’t cry. i made a mistake, i messed it up, not you!”

the setter found himself melting at your touches, letting you pull off his hood and pull down his mask to reveal his face under the night sky. his lips wobbled, nose and cheeks reddening as tears fell from his big, brown hues.

“i deserved your hatred, ‘tsumu.” your hands were cold on his skin as you wiped his tears the second you saw them. he shook his head, “don’t say that. how could i ever hate you?”

with your fingers interlaced, both of you still in a daze, squeezing each other’s hand so tightly to realize that this was real, you took him to your place. because neither of you wanted to let go.

atsumu could cry when he saw the picture of you two from your middle school graduation in one of your cupboards on the wall next to the tv in your living room. what did make him break down was seeing that one hairpin he’d gifted you on your 13th birthday right in front of the framed picture.

“‘samu never stopped talking about you and how sad you looked at our high school graduation.” his reddened eyes didn’t leave the picture even when you stood next to him, almost as if he was too ashamed to look at you. “i’m really sorry. i truly am.”

you smiled up at him nostalgically, like you’d always do back then. he caught it from his peripheral, and it made his heart skip a beat. “we were teenagers, ‘tsumu,” you assured him while your hand traced over his broad shoulders. “things happen. i think i had to lose you to grow up and realize things.”

his body finally turned to you to face you. his hair was a softer, lighter blonde now, nearly white. it looked fluffier, too. his cheekbones were more sculpted, and you could feel the slightest stubble on his chin.

no matter how many years would pass, you’d always be in love with each and every version of atsumu.

“realize what?” his features were soft, thick eyebrows raising in question while you looked away bashfully. you’d written it in the letter. he just wanted you to say it out loud, because he was dying to hear you say it.

“atsumu, i…” you started, playing with the collar of his hoodie. he stopped breathing. “i’ve been in love with you since forever. since the very first time you shared your lunch with me.”

the cat was out of the bag. you exhaled a shaky breath, and before you could muster up the courage to look back at the now professional athlete, he beat you to it. atsumu was always bold. he took what he wanted, with no shame. he made you realize this once again when he planted his lips on you immediately after tilting your face up.

one short kiss was enough for you to ask more. now that you had him in your arms again, you wanted all of him. you had waited so long for the impossible to happen. and now that you finally had it…

“‘tsumu. kiss me again, please.”

so he did. again and again. to show you how sorry he was, to show you that he hadn’t meant any of the crap he had pulled on you years ago. he was a dumb prick, and he won’t ever forgive himself for what he’d done. he had missed out on so much with you, and he saw that one more time when you were seated on his lap in the dim living room, hovering above him needily.

you were all he ever needed. it felt like now he had you back again, a gap had been filled inside of him. one that nothing and no one was able to fill. no one could ever replace you, no emma, no girl, no one.

every kiss and touch was followed by him muttering apologies into your skin, worshipping your skin like it was holy. handling you with utmost care like you were made out of porcelain. he watched you fall apart from him just fondling you through your clothes.

“p—please, i need—” you sucked in a breath when you felt his bulge pressing through his sweatpants, prodding at your slacks. “need you, please. want to be yours.”

atsumu hummed into your neck as his strong hands carefully took off your blouse, revealing your bra-clad chest. “y’look so sexy in these clothes,” he mumbled, admiring the sight of you shakily unbuttoning your pants. “wanna see you in them every day when you go to work and when you come home.”

you whined at his lowly spoken words, letting him help you take off your pants. your clammy hands tugged at his hoodie and sweatpants that were soon gone as well, pooling at the floor.

atsumu’s body looked absolutely gorgeous. the second it was revealed to you, you traced your fingers over every ridge and cranny of his arms and upper body, sucking marks on and kissing his supple, firm skin that was still so soft.

“baby,” atsumu huffed, feeling his cock twitching at every single movement of yours. you were driving him crazy. “lemme do the rest, kay? i want tonight t’be all about you.”

nodding softly, you waited with bated breath as atsumu unclasped your bra and let it thud to the floor, joining the rest of your clothes. the way he licked his lips and groaned made you soak through your panties. moans and whimpers freely spilled from your glossy mouth once he latched his soft lips onto one of the mounds, while his hand paid attention to the other, twirling your hardened nipple between warm fingers.

“perfect tits,” he panted into your chest, looking up to meet your gaze as he licked his wet lips. “yer perfect, darlin’. everything about you is.” stammering pleas for atsumu to continue while you ran your fingers through his soft strands, you shuddered upon his unoccupied hand wandering down your stomach, until it settled at the hem of your lace panties.

“want me to go on, baby?”

his eyes were blown wide in lust and desire, fingers digging into your skin enough to leave marks. you bit your lip, whimpering through your teeth as you nodded. “yes, please, atsumu...”

atsumu knew you were wet from how you’d soaked the front of his light gray boxers, but actually feeling how aroused you were made him utter curses. it was so much, and you produced even more slick with just a single touch. how fucking adorable.

“so, so wet,” he groaned as one of his fingers slipped inside your clenching hole so easily, “fuck, so tight n’ warm. yer gonna make me cum, princess. fuck…”

he couldn’t wait to feel you around his cock. couldn’t wait to be engulfed by your warmth, to feel all of you. with big, wide eyes, he watched as you came undone on his fingers in just a minute, clutching his bare, sculpted shoulders while you creamed on his long digits. it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted more.

“‘tsumu—” your thighs were shaking, and you kissed his jaw sloppily. “wan’ me to suck you off?” you couldn’t be serious. atsumu was literally seconds from creaming in his boxers, and you offered a blowjob to him so sweetly? he had to physically keep you in place to stop your hips from moving.

“no, i wanna feel your pretty pussy ‘round my dick,” he panted, and you obediently reached your deft fingers to pull at the waistband of his boxers. despite both of you being very desperate and impatient, you still took the time to take off each other’s underwear.

it was the need to be connected without anything disrupting you, rather than to ravage each other. although you were aware that if atsumu wasn’t going to dick you down in this very moment, you were going to explode.

you saw a glimpse of atsumu’s girthy and gorgeous cock before it started disappearing inside of your awaiting cunt. his hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you still, while you mewled and sighed into his neck.

“how d’ya feel, angel?” atsumu’s voice was serene, calm, as he enjoyed the warmth he was buried inside of to the hilt. he was never going to let you go again, ever. “f—feels… so full,” you whined, raising your head from his shoulder to look into his eyes. “y’re so big, ‘tsumu. so warm. love it.”

leaning back against the back of the couch, the blonde started a sensual and slow pace, and you felt so overwhelmed that you didn’t know any better than to kiss him. moving your hips back and forth with his hands guiding you, you swallowed each other’s moans of passion and love, tongues clashing and lips molding together and becoming one.

atsumu and you were made for each other. you were made to be with him. you were each other’s destiny.

“i love you,” you started crying when the sensation started building inside of your gut, threatening to snap. “love you s’much, ‘tsumu. i love you so much.” atsumu kissed your tears away, listening to you babbling confessions and apologies as you kept clenching around him as if you wanted him inside of you forever.

“i love you too,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harder and faster snaps of his hips against your heat. the sounds of squelches and moans echoed across your apartment that had been empty and devoid of life and love for years. “will never let you go again. i’m so sorry.”

atsumu knew he was nearing his release, and his eyes frantically looked for yours, sweat clinging to his forehead and body as his hair stuck to his face. you were cross-eyed, digging your nails into his shoulders as if you wanted him even closer.

“need t’cum inside of you, angel,” atsumu hissed the more you tightened around him, nearly trapping him inside of you. “can i fill you up? please, please…”

nodding mindlessly, you wrapped your arms around atsumu’s neck, working you both towards a release. you were the first to cave in, hips stilling as you let out a high-pitched moan while waves of white came crashing down.

with a slack jaw and eyes rolled back into his skull, atsumu started releasing spurts of his warm seed into your womb, cock twitching until his balls were empty while you relished in his warmth he had shared with you.

neither of you moved, not even minutes later, feeling like you have melted into one body. the silence in the apartment finally felt peaceful instead of haunting, the second pair of eyes in it filling you with a sense of home.

atsumu’s fingers combed through your damp hair while you laid your head on his built chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. it was a matter of time till this tranquil moment was going to vanish.

“i must say, thinking about you having fought for me is really hot—” you cut him off by pinching the tender skin on his chest, which made him yelp. “ow!”

“i hate you, atsumu.”

you knew damn well you didn’t.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

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esspeon · 10 months

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UNHOLY!

a/n: this isn’t exactly a full fic but more like what i’m used to doing and an idea i had in angel’s dms that she practically begged me to write :3 so this is for you darlin’ @katsukike

pairing: camboy!kenma x frequent guest + fem bodied!reader

cw: mentions of masturbation, roleplay, kenma wears a ghostface costume, teasing, use of a blindfold, edging, overstim, praise + degradation, mentions of kenma being a gaming streamer, choking, use of a vibrator.

camboy!kenma who’s a famous gaming streamer and because hes known, never shows his face in his more.. well, unholy streams. Identity and anything that could possibly lead people to believe that its him being completely hidden from the public. That’s part of the reason he has a place especially for those.

It started out as him doing streams alone, dressed in a hoodie and joggers - lowered just enough for his dick to be out. He’d stroke himself in a teasingly slow manner, it was torture not only for his viewers but for him as well. He’s shaking a little, dead set on edging himself for as long as he can handle.. and oh was it worth the wait when he’d finally let himself go. His viewers watched and listened in awe as sighs and moans left his lips while he panted. He’d let out a quiet laugh as a goodbye before he ended the stream.

camboy!kenma who eventually brings in guests, you being the most frequent one. What can he say, hes almost addicted to the sounds you make. Kenma loves having you at his mercy, blindfolded and tied up so he’s free to do whatever he wants with you. Your little jumps and gasps whenever he touches you —even for a few seconds— are something he loves seeing. Sometimes he even uses a vibrator, dragging it over your nipples before he finally presses it to your clit harshly.

He’d whisper things like “who knew such an innocent little thing like you was so dirty?” “Ah, you’re such a good girl for me, hm? Keep it up and i might just give you my cock.” only so you can hear. His voice does things to you, and he uses that to his advantage. When you tell him you’re about to cum he either pulls the toy away just to hear your cries and pleas.

Or, he won’t move it at all and make you cum until you practically beg him to stop while your legs are shaking.

camboy!kenma who’ll cosplay as your favorite slasher —ghostface— and fucks you with it on. It benefits both you and him, really. He gets to hide his face and you get to experience a fantasy of yours. You’re wetter and he slips in so easily without prep, it makes him lightheaded. Eventually his hands would wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly as he thrusts into you harder. You squeez him so tightly it makes him groan and hed whisper “fuck- if i knew you’d enjoy this so much i would’ve done it sooner.”

#⥀.a song for crows #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #hq x reader smut #kozume kenma smut #kenma smut #kenma kozume x reader smut #kozume kenma x reader smut #kenma x reader smut

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shojoisms · 1 year

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— [♡] 21:55 with Matsukawa.

just a lil drabble because I love this man, your honor + not beta’d just copied and pasted from my docs.

✩⡱ content+warnings: fem!reader, established relationships, vaginal penetration, size kink, creampies, pet names are used!

Your boyfriend watches in amusement — watching you huff and grunt as you struggle to sink down on his cock, both your hands placed on his broad chest to steady yourself as you try again.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” Matsukawa asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his features doing nothing to mask that — yes — he does find your current dilemma amusing.

“Need a hand?” You roll your eyes as he places his heavy hands on your hips before you swat them away — the teasing lilt never leaving his tone.

“No,” You lift yourself up so that you're hovering mere inches away from Matsukawa’s thick, monster cock — the fat mushroom head bumping against your clit has you hesitating.

For a while, none of you say anything instead you retract one of your hands, stroking his cock for good measure. Matsukawa groans at the sensation, pre cum beading on the tip as you continue pumping him and slathering his shaft in his essence for extra help.

It’s not long before you’re aligning the tip of his cock with your awaiting heat — slowly but surely, his girth disappears between your folds. The stretch burns, although not unbearable, your boyfriend was huge. Way more endowed than most of the men you’ve ever been with, even rivaling half of your toy collection.

A string of curses spew from you both. “‘S fuckin’ big,” you hiss, your head laying against Matsukawa’s chest as he finally bottoms out.

“So fuckin’ tight,” He mocks back with a hiss, although with no malicious intent — you felt amazing around him, like you were made for him and he’s damn sure he’s gonna mold your pussy in the shape of his cock, ruining you for every man after him, has his balls tightening at the idea.

“Give me sec,” you breathe out, giving yourself time to adjust to the sheer size, and hefty weight of Matsukawa’s cock.

“Take all the time you need,” He hums, “not goin’ anywhere, not when your pussy’s clenching onto me like this,”

You can feel your boyfriend’s chest rise with laughter, as soon as your body gets accustomed to his you raise your hips, allowing them to fall back down upon his cock — his laughter catching in his throat as you clench around him.

Your pace starts off slow, teasingly slow, just to spite your boyfriend and he rolls his hips lazily in encouragement.

You relish in the way Matsukawa’s cock feels as you spear yourself upon it — his cock stretching the warm pouch of your cunt with each movement, as you force more of him inside you, making you feel full.

“Is—sei,” You drawl, Matsukawa can barely take it, he needs more — more than what you’re offering.

Taking matters into his own hands, he grabs you by your hips — palms planted firmly against you. You squeal in surprise as he lifts you up before slamming you back down on his length, his cock delving deeper inside of you as the tip hits against your cervix.

His pace is relentless, unforgiving, almost certain that he’s punishing you for teasing him earlier. “Fuck, f—fuck” you cry, your hands clawing at his back while your nails rake across his skin, leaving scratches across the surface.

He merely groans in response, unfazed by your actions.

It feels like your losing your mind as more and more of Matsukawa splits you open, he even shifts his hips to ram into your more sensitive spots with a calculated precision — determined to make you go dumb on his cock.

It’s not like he had to do much anyways.

Matsukawa’s not much of a talker when it comes to sex, but something about the way your hole keeps sucking his cock back in has him reconsidering. “You feel so fuckin’ good, shit”

Tears are beginning to form in the corners of your eyes, your vision going hazy as the last remnants of your sanity fades away. “Like you were made for me, bunny,”

Your lips fall open, as more moans roll off your tongue. You’re close — the coil in your tummy growing tighter.

Matsukawa knows it, he can tell by the way your walls flutter around him — clenching, and squeezing his cock as you finally cum.

You fall slack in his embrace, although it does nothing to hinder him — he continues bouncing you up and down on his cock as if you were weightless, weighing less than a doll. “Almost there,” he grunts, and it’s not like you could really comprehend what he was saying anyways.

And with a few more rolls of his hips, his cock twitches and pulses inside you, signaling his end as he spurts thick ropes of semen along your walls until you’re completely overfilled, leaving some to seep from between your folds —- wetting both yours and his thighs.

Matsukawa pulls you close, pressing his lips against the curve of your face. “Atta girl,” it comes out breathlessly, “let’s go get you cleaned up,”

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu imagines #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyu x reader smut #matsukawa x reader #Matsukawa smut #Mattsun smut #hq x reader smut #hq drabbles #matsukawa issei x you #perhaps I shall make my formatting for posts look better too..#hmm..

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koushuwu · 5 months

Text

» 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 (𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱) *:･ﾟ✧

» 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hinata shoyo x reader | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,2k | hq masterlist

» 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: hinata shoyo both lives and loves freely, and he ain’t ashamed. neither is he opposed to sharing some of that loving with a fan, when said fan so clearly finds him cute.

» 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): afab!reader, multiple writing styles, alcohol consumption, smut, one night stand, feet (a little bit), slight body worship, nipple play, spit, fingering, consensual sex, no editing we die like neji. lmk if i missed something.

» 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @tyga-lily (i hope that it's okay to tag you in this, since shoyo is your mans.)

MSBY!shoyo who has always had a very lively personality, having more than once been referred to as a “sunshine boy”. by many a different person, mind you. so of course it’s only natural that he’d be one to very much enjoy the party scene with his fellow black jackals.

MSBY!shoyo who finds himself the life of the party, with his drawing personality, his carefree demeanor, his quick radiant smiles and his fiery passion. with bokuto by his side especially, it was hard to believe anyone could not enjoy themselves. that is, of course, unless they were sakusa, who’d generally rather be home than on a night out, no matter the company. especially at atsumu’s favorite club of all places.

MSBY!shoyo who’s sending the bartender a bright smile, when he sat a drink down in front of him. “from the young lady over there.”

MSBY!shoyo who had had this happen before, but the bubbling joy never seized to erupt every single time, and he couldn’t help turning that bright contagious smile towards you across the club. his smile widening when you look away, bashful, before meeting his gaze with a fire that matched his own passion to a t.

MSBY!shoyo who got pulled back to the present by bokuto’s chiding “oh, she’s cute.” the electrifying moment crackling but never breaking, as shoyo turned to his friend and teammate with a grin as big as bokuto’s spread across his face. bokuto’s grin rivaling that of shoyo’s in contagiousness. again; unless you’re sakusa, who’d still rather be home, watching on in distaste.

MSBY!shoyo who glanced down at the cocktail in front of him, then looking back up at you. only now you were nowhere to be seen. he scanned the crowd for a glimpse of you, but between the many partygoers, he didn’t stand a chance, instead taking a sip of the vibrant cocktail in front of him. it was good. really good. and somehow that made him yearn for you to return to his line of sight.

MSBY!shoyo who found you later on the dancefloor. the bass was thumping and as he moved towards his table, and there you were. right in front of him, dancing with your friend. or he thought it was your friend. stopping in his track, he watched you spin around. and that’s when your eyes met his. for one split second, you seemed surprised to see him, but then you smiled.

MSBY!shoyo who feels entranced by the smile you sent him. by the glimmer in your eye and by the energy that surrounded you like an aura. who couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at the draw you exuded toward him. the draw, that pulled him in, like other people had told him over the years he did to them.

MSBY!shoyo whose eyes followed your movements as you danced. who followed the move of your hands as one found his, and pulled him close. “hinata shoyo, right?”

MSBY!shoyo who knew you were a fan, the moment you said his name, but didn’t even care when you looked at him like that. who’d been with a fan on more than one occasion. it was all the same to him. a nights fun was a nights fun, no matter with whom, to him. but even so, he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t something magnetic about you. something a little out of the ordinary, compared to the rest. but no one asked, so he didn’t tell. at least, not yet.

MSBY!shoyo who couldn’t help but smile even bigger as you pulled him closer. as he pulled you closer in turn, and as you moved with him. as he moved with you.

MSBY!shoyo who despite lacking in some aspects as a kid found his rhythm fast. since going pro and since joining the black jackals. and especially since meeting atsumu and bokuto again, had learned that he, as atsumu phrased it, had moves. he knew how to move and he knew how to guide you as he did.

MSBY!shoyo who’d become so accustomed to the move of his own body on the dancefloor that he’d expected himself not to get flustered when your hand trailed over his skin. but he did. his heart may have stuttered and his movements faltered for a single moment in time. but then the next beat of the music boomed from the speakers and he’d already found his footing once more.

MSBY!shoyo who knew it was coming, but still felt heat clouding his features when your fingers traced the nape of his neck, testing the waters as you slit them further up, burying your fingers in his beautiful red hair. whose eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time as you moved together.

MSBY!shoyo whose eyes fluttered shut when you pushed up to your toes, lips gracing his softly. he felt it in every fiber. every single cell of his being when you kissed him. when he kissed you back. who felt the entire world fall away as he let himself get lost in the moment. in the closeness and in the taste of your lips. who chased after your lips when you pulled back, that contagious smile still lingering. who opened his eyes to watch you just as you opened your mouth to speak. “i got you my favorite,” you told him. “i wanted to see what it’d taste like on your tongue.” he smiled at that and asked “and? was it to your liking?” your laugh sounded above the music, like a calling to him that he’d never known he longed for. “hmm. hard to tell.” you smiled, pulling him back in by the collar. “might need to have another taste, just to be sure.”

MSBY!shoyo who brought you with him home to his hotel that night, knowing that the tabloids would blow it up, given the chance, but he didn’t mind. shoyo lived his life and he wasn’t ashamed. not one bit and he never would be. he lived and he loved. and he did it freely. especially with someone as cute as you. so he took you to his back home to his hotel.

MSBY!shoyo who spent the entire ride back lively and brightly. not once allowing the mood to turn awkward. not once letting a single uncomfortable silence settle. not that he particularly tried to fill the silence. it was just natural to him. second nature and hadn’t it been what gravitated you towards him? who was delighted to find, that you filled up half of the space and the silence yourself, perfectly bouncing off his energy with your own. it was stunning really, and shoyo found himself drawn to you, just as well as you had been him.

MSBY!shoyo who could still taste you pleasantly lingering on the tip of his tongue as you stepped into the elevator by his side, grateful to have found the streets empty outside his hotel. who let his fingers trace the back of your hands, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips as you turned your hand and interlocked your fingers with his.

MSBY!shoyo who led the way out of the elevator. down the hall. briefly stopping before the door to his room before letting the both of you inside. the room that he thankfully had to himself. could you imagine? sharing a room with sakusa would have given the poor guy a heart attack if he’d known what was about to go down in that very room. truthfully, it probably would anyway, even if it wasn’t his room. but alas. the room was hinata’s alone and he was not about to pass that opportunity by.

MSBY!shoyo who was eager in many a setting, but for once didn’t feel any rush. no better way to get with someone, than allowing the both of you to enjoy the experience. allowing you to indulge. to have fun and take your time. that was his philosophy at least, when it came to sex. especially with one night stands. to kick things back and just enjoy. no rush. no hurry. so he led you inside, guiding you to the bed and gently setting you on the edge and dropped to his knees. not that he was about to propose, but those heels looked awfully painful.

MSBY!shoyo who lifted one of your feet from the floor and undid the strap, sliding it off. and then the other, fingers gliding over your skin in relaxed confidence. something he’d learned over the years that now came to him like second nature.

MSBY!shoyo who couldn’t read your mind, but definitely noticed the way you admired him on the floor in front of you. who couldn’t read the thoughts on him, that went through your head. he was cute. he had energy. he had stamina. he was fun. he was passionate. he was eager. he had this air around him. confidence. that’s what you saw when you looked at him. and it was sexy. painstakingly so. all these things, something that shoyo didn’t know. but he saw the glimmer in your eye, and who was he to let you wait?

MSBY!shoyo who lifted your bare foot higher in the air, and planted a kiss at your ankle, relishing in the little visible shudder coursing through you. cute. he did it again. and again. each kiss edging just a little further up, tasting the skin of your calf.

“hina—“

“shoyo,” he said. “call me shoyo.” he looked up at you from the floor. a playful glimmer in his eye and a joyful smile at his lips.

“shoyo,” you repeated in agreement. tasting his name as if you hadn’t already put the name in your mouth numerous times before. but never like this though. never with him. always, always, always in conversation with friends. family. fans. but this? this was different.

MSBY!shoyo who relished in the sound of his name spilling from you lips. he smiled. chuckled. he looked up at you, anticipation reflected in your eyes as they followed his every move. every single one of his movements as he moved up further, kissing the side of your knee before licking a stripe up your inner thigh. the fact that you were wearing a dress, no tights, was like a gift bestowed on him as he tasted your skin. your hand shoved into his soft fiery locks as your breathing hitched when he blew his warm breath across the saliva on your leg.

MSBY!shoyo who, despite being eager and energetic, took the time stop and make sure you actually wanted this. who asked you more than once if you were sure. if you were okay with anything he did. because you may have wanted him when you left the club with him, but that didn’t mean you still did. shoyo was a free spirit and a respectful one at that. so he asked. and once he’d got you splayed out on his hotel bed, clothes discarded on the floor, he asked you again. but this time, he asked you something different.

“What do you want me to do?” his breath against your skin sent a shiver through your body as goosebumps rose across your flesh. this time not a ‘are you sure?’, ‘do you still want this?’ or a ‘are you feeling okay?’ but simply a request for you to indulge him. to play with him.

“touch me,” you told him, the alcohol in your system stripping you of any embarrassment sober you might’ve felt by speaking your mind like this. but tipsy you? tipsy you wanted his hands on your body and tipsy you weren’t afraid to say so.

“where?” he asked. “if we’re gonna do this, we might as well have a good time, yeah?” it was more of a statement than a question really, because it was simple. of course you might. and that was the thing shoyo really wanted most. to ensure that the both of you were having the best time that you could on this one night together. you were just about to reply when a mischievous glimmer played in his eyes. “here?” he asked, bringing his hands up to cup your tits. you nodded when he pinched one nipple between his fingers. that made his lips split in a big, beautiful, blinding grin. then he dipped and took your other nipple between his lips and suckled.

there was a breathy sound escaping your lips when his teeth graced the sensitive nub, making your back arch off the bed. he did it again, rolling your other nipple between his fingers at the same time.

“shoyo–” you whined, the last note drawing out as his tongue flicked around your nipple. he looked up at you and finally released you, tongue sticking out and a little bit of spit trickling onto your exposed skin. the glimmer in his eyes was captivating. entrancing. the smile on his face was dazzling. drawing. he was looking at you, as if you were quite literally the only woman in the world, and even if he might not be yours to keep, it never felt forced. maybe because to him, at that moment, you were in fact very much the only woman that mattered, and he absolutely made sure that you felt it.

“where?” he asked you again, this time pausing to let you reply. to let you tell him what and where you wanted him to touch. and so you did. you took his hand in yours and guided it down. down. down. down. until his fingers rested against your sex.

“here,” you said and he grinned back at you. drawing indeed.

“oh? this pretty little lady?” he asked, letting his fingers slide between your folds, feeling the slick against them. “happy to oblige,” he said. you sucked in a breath as his digits danced over your clit. he was good. really good. the playful melody of his fingers was lighthearted. fun. good. perfect. something so different to anything you’d ever tried with any one night stand before, and for a moment you couldn’t believe your luck, that he’d taken you home. you. out of all the people he could have pulled from the bar, he’d picked you. a fan of his no less. the next moment you remembered that you had indeed been pretty straightforward with you advantages from the very start. but who could blame you really? the guy was cute as hell. little did you know that shoyo really hadn’t planned on taking anyone home at all. he never did when these sort of things happened. but your straightforward approach had been exactly what captivated him. you’d let him have a glance, but you hadn’t pushed. not until he was right there in front of you again. and at that point, he’d already been looking for you for hours. the trap already snapped closed, even if you’d never truly expected it to play out like that. but it did.

the temperature rose like a crescendo between the two of you. a moan fell from your lips and shoyo smiled. his eyes locked onto your and held your gaze in place. there was something about the way he looked at you right then, that made it feel impossible for you to look away. so you didn’t.

“give me your hand,” he prompted, reaching out. you placed your hand in his, gaze still interlocked with his. fingers slid gingerly over your skin as he let them glide from your hand, up to your wrist, circling it softly. drawing your hand towards him, he opened his mouth, tongue sticking out. his thumb grazed your palm, then pressed lightly. you straightened your fingers at his silent command. you couldn’t help but feel drawn in by him as he put your fingers to his mouth, tongue sliding in between them. around them. pulling them in. he was mesmerizing. even more so than you’d ever imagined, watching him play or participate in interviews. like he was a completely different league.

as much as you probably could have tried to keep your voice back, you didn’t. you mewled. you keened. and he hadn’t even entered you yet. he hadn’t entered you yet. he should– he bit down gently on your knuckles, and you whined as you felt yourself tightening around nothing. he should–

“shoyo–” you whined. again. but you didn’t care. because you were here and he was here and you were together and that’s what mattered. “inside, too. please,” you pleaded. and he smiled, removing your fingers from his mouth.

“okay,” he agreed. he didn’t press inside. instead he shifted in the bed, placing himself on his knees between your legs. and that’s when your eyes grew wide, because with your hand pressed to the mattress, his fingers caressed your skin. from your wrist, down the inside of your forearm, making you shudder. then, down the side of your ribs, over your hip and then to your thigh. he pushed it down. out. and then he did something you hadn’t expected him to. gaze still trained on yours, he let a dribble of spit fall from his lips. the cold, wet sensation sent a pleasurable ripple through your body. from your very core and through every little inch, ebbing out as it reached your fingertips. goosebumps broke out across your skin, amplified only by the way he looked at you. and looked at you. you looked back. captivated. as if you couldn’t truly look away. lacing his fingers between yours on one hand, the other found your pussy again, tracing through the slick of his own spit and your arousal.

“last chance to back out,” he said when one finger pressed against your entrance. it was soft. imødekommende. understanding. but you just shook your head. you wanted him, and he clearly wanted you.

“not gonna happen,” you told him, tone equally soft. a little teasing. he grinned. he did that a lot, you noted. and then he pressed inside.

shoyo was as giver. he enjoyed the playful thrill of pleasuring his partner. of giving, and giving, and giving. making his partner feel good. happy. it was a feeling like no other. and that was exactly the feeling he reveled in, that very moment, as he worked you open. as he stretched your pussy, first making room for one more finger, and then as he slowly thrust them into your heat, again and again.

your own grip tightened in his, moan after whine after mewl after whimper spilling into the scorching air around you, mixing in with his labored breathing, in a wondrous, beautiful symphony. rising and falling in perfect harmony, the filthy squelches of his fingers picking up pace, bullying into you, making for the steady bass of the sweet orchestration.

somehow, shoyo knew exactly how to angle his fingers to hit just that perfect spot inside. to go just deep enough. honestly that should not have been legal. and yet somehow he managed it.

the hold around your hand loosened, but only long enough for shoyo to nestle the palm of his own hand against the back of yours, digits once again slipping between yours, and squeezed it lightly. it tingled. you didn’t know why, but it did. every little bit of skin that he touched was buzzing, as if electric. charged. charged like the feeling in the pit of your stomach; rising expectantly. reaching. stretching towards the peak of crescendo, each tone strumming higher and higher in pitch. shoyo curled his fingers, thumb caressing your hand as he continued to pump into you. you hadn’t expected him to make you cum, honestly. not because you thought he’d be bad in bed, but first times and one night stands often left a lot to be desired for you, because you simply didn’t know each others bodies well enough. so you hadn’t expected him to manage it. at the very least not this fast. but you felt the rise, rapidly approaching the climax you hadn’t been prepared for. but when he brushed deep inside you once more, you welcomed it, as it washed over you in a delicious flow of heat. it wasn’t fireworks going off inside. it wasn’t an earth shattering crash of pleasure snapping in your core. it was warm, comforting pleasure rolling through you like the waves lapping at the shore on a quiet summer night, and it was perfect. shoyo smiled at the sound of his name, softly sliding off your tongue like a contented sigh. he held you until the waves of pleasure ebbed out, thinning to a pleasant hum.

“good?” he asked you when he sensed you were back. that you’d come down from your high.

“good,” you confirmed, voice soft and flashed him a lazy grin of your own.

“good,” he said, lifting your hand to his lips. they were soft. softer than any guy’s lips you’d ever felt, as he kissed the palm of your hand. then he kissed it again. “i’m glad,” he said, breath hot as it spread against your wrist before his lips pressed against it. your skin tingled. the sensation sending new heat surging down your spine. spreading and once more made you long for his touch. for more. for him. shoyo seemed to sense the charged atmosphere. the way you looked at him, because he chuckled as he kissed your wrist once more.

“shoyo,” you said, and he looked at you, still standing tall between your thighs.

“hm?”

“instead of my wrist, maybe you could kiss me instead. or better yet, you could fuck–” your words cut off when he pressed leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. he guided your hand into his hair as he kissed you, just as you’d asked. his warm cock bumping against your abdomen as he adjusted over you. the kiss was short and he pulled back, nipping at your lower lip as he did. you chased his lips, but he just grinned at your efforts.

“that’s just want i wanted to hear,” he told you and then kissed you again. and again. and again and again and again. and even through kisses, it didn’t take long before shoyo had successfully slid the rubber in place, tip now excitedly slipping through the wetness of your cunt. “how do you want it?” he asked you, and there was another shiver rippling through you. you never thought you’d get excited by talking in bed, but the the way shoyo did it was– well it was hot. incredibly so. something about the way he considered you, even for a one time fling. the sheer confidence of his bright and attentive aura. it gave you the confidence as well, to be free and to ask of him exactly what you wanted.

“from behind,” you said. “i like it from behind.”

“alright, princess. turn around,” he told you. it wasn’t a command. a simple instruction that you found yourself eager to follow. and so you did, feeling his gaze on you as you did. he was admiring you. every single inch of skin. every curve, crevice and crease as you turned. you were beautiful in every sense of the word to him, honestly. he let you settle into the position that was the most comfortable for you, and didn’t touch you before then. as you rested against the bed, ass raised in silent invitation, he finally did touch you. one single finger traced the curve of your spine, from between your shoulders and all the way down to your tailbone. featherlight and burning hot at the same time. he drew circles across your skin before finally resting his palm against your hip. with the other, he lined himself up with your entrance, and then stopped.

“shoyo. fuck me, please.” you told him, before he had the time to ask if you were sure. if you were ready. if you were comfortable, or anything else along those lines. you’d have to admit that it was insanely hot that he did so, but right now– right now you wanted nothing more than for him to get inside you, and you were not going to waste any more time than absolutely necessary before you got what you wanted. shoyo clearly got the memo, because his hold tightened on your hip and his cock pressed against your cunt, stretching as it pushed inside. slowly. slowly. ever so slowly. but oh so absolutely delicious and despite your impatience to have him sheathed inside of you, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

MSBY!shoyo who never had any second thoughts about having sex with a fan. he lived and he loved freely, and he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him from doing just that, for as long as he was single. and so he chose to love you, that night. to give you everything you wanted. to give you all of him that you wanted.

MSBY!shoyo who’d done this kind of thing more than once. and who’d had a night partner slip him their number before they left more than once as well. but this time. maybe. just maybe, he’d keep it. this time. maybe. just maybe, a one night stand could be allowed to turn into a two nights stand. or maybe. just maybe–

*:･ﾟ✧ thank you for reading ♡

#fanfic #hinata shoyo #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo smut #hinata shoyo x reader smut #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq x reader smut #useradrienne #it feels so funny to use your tracked tag on fics because i literally don't tag anyone else so it looks funny #but i'll be damned if i let the chance pass me by to share my writings with you!

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tooruslove · 2 years

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he loves to comfort you when he sees that your insecure thoughts and feelings are becoming more intense and overwhelming. one tactic he likes to use when all else fails is to fuck it into you. both naked in front of the mirror with him behind you as he traces every inch of your body with his slender fingers.

as his fingers curve over your tits he’ll say “and you see these? fuck princess, they’re perfect. just like you.”

he will caress your thighs, your waist, your arms and will not leave a single part of your body unpraised by him. he does 8′s on your clit making whimpers escape your mouth. he’ll call you his gorgeous girl as he slides into your tight pussy with ease. he will make it his mission to make sure you know how much he loves you. every fucking inch of you.

— KUROO. levi. bokuto. SUGAWARA. osamu. oikawa. SUNA.

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uravitypng · 1 year

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oikawa manhandling you because he can't believe how soft you are. he can't help it, he sees you and it's all he can think about. oikawa's bigger than you, taller than you, stronger than you, it was rather shocking the first time he moved your body in any position he wanted. he didn't think anyone could be this soft. your body bounces as he grabs onto whatever flesh he can. he marvels at how pretty you are, as you try to playfully wriggle from his grasp, making him lightly spank you, so he can see your body jiggle. he loves the little noises you make, the gasps when he touches you just right. you're his soft, round, squidgy girlfriend, you're all his, and he adores you.

#really love oikawa and chubby reader <3 (please excuse any mistakes. the hour is late and i am tired)#haikyuu x reader smut #toru oikawa smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #toru oikawa x reader #oikawa x chubby reader #oikawa x reader smut #oikawa x reader #hq smut #hq x reader smut #♡ mine / writing #chubby reader smut #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq oikawa #haikyuu x chubby reader smut #haikyuu x chubby reader #♡ toru

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forusomimiya · 1 year

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Sakusa Kiyoomi had two fantasies, both related to fucking, clearly. The first, do it in his car. The second, in a swimming pool. Why not fulfil them both on the same day?

Doing it in the pool was easy. It was summer, his parents were working, and his brothers were away on a trip. The perfect moment. All it took was a provocative bikini, hot kisses on his neck, moans in his ear, your hand sliding down into his swim suit, and as soon as he was hard, he entered you in one thrust.

"God… maybe this will become my favourite place to fuck you. I can feel how warm you are inside."

Touching Sakusa's thigh and fiddling with his crotch as he drove while taking you back home, made his second fantasy come true. He took the first exit he saw and in the nearest open field, he turned off the lights and let you take him until he was exhausted. You got rid of your panties and jumped into the back seats for comfort. He ate you until you were dripping wet enough to then play with his cock over your wet pussy a couple of times before letting you climb onto his lap and ride him as he grabbed both your ass cheeks to pull them up and down on his cock.

"You look so cute like that, so beautiful…taking me in my own car because she can't wait for me to fuck her at her house. How greedy… just keep it up baby, please, I'm close".

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knavves · 2 years

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★ HOW THEY OVERSTIM YOU ft kotaro bokuto, atsumu miya, rintaro suna, shinsuke kita !

wc: 0.6k ノ cw + tw: nsfw (18+). fem reader. face sitting. overstim. fingering. squirting. use of petnames. belly bulge. size kink. riding. praise.

★ BOKUTO

your thighs pathetically trembled around his head, fingers gripping onto the headboard for support. you whined for him to stop and that you were too sensitive, but the way you gripped his hair, urging him to bury his face closer said otherwise. he loved when you sat on his face, he wants nothing more to be smothered by your pretty little cunt. he payed no mind to the arousal that dripped on his chin from your sopping heat. your pleasured sobs and whimpers only encouraged him further. every time you came, he eagerly licked it up leaving your cunt glistening with his spit. the way his rough hands gripped your thighs tighter made it clear he wasn’t done with you yet.

★ ATSUMU

you squirmed desperately in his grasp, pleading for him to slow down. three orgasms had already been ripped from you, but the fingers buried deep inside your pussy were unrelenting. you weakly gripped his wrist but your attempts were futile as he only shushed your cries and reassured you could take it. you could only whine and writhe against the cum soiled sheets beneath you. you wanted to be good for him but it was just all too much. his fingers reached so deeply inside you, curling against that sweet spot that made you squeal and moan. your heart raced as his toned chest pressed up against your back, free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you from moving away. you were so close, the knot building up in your stomach much more intense than before. you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a garbled, desperate cry of his name before squirting all over his hand as his eyes widened in awe. “shit ,baby, that was so hot. you can do that a few more times f’me, yeah?”

★ SUNA

“what are you whining for, princess?” he smirked at your tear stained face, prodding his aching cock against your tight hole once more. “it’s too much? i haven’t got to cum yet though.” he fake pouted just to tease you further. a hiss escaped your clenched teeth at the burning sensation of his cock, which was coated with your previous orgasms, entering your sensitive cunt. he was so big. “still so tight.” he said, mostly to himself, as he slowly started moving his hips. he groaned at the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders, the pain soon being overwhelmed by the way your cunt spasmed and clenched around him. “rin ‘s too much..” you whimpered, thrusting your hips up to meet his thrusts despite your words. his hand traveled up from your hips to the bulge in your stomach, pressing against it just to hear you gasp and moan. “just a little bit more. you can take it, sweetheart.”

★ KITA

“you’re doing so well, making me feel so good.” his words made you want to continue but you couldn’t anymore, your thighs burned and shook every time you lifted yourself up and then back down again on his cock. “mm can’t anymore.” you whined, hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. his thumb rubbed soothing shapes into your aching thighs, “its okay. i got you, dear.” his soft hands trailed from your thighs up to your hips, gripping either side gently. you were both so sensitive, one another’s orgasms n arousal being coated on both of your lower halves. but you both craved more, craved each other. he placed a loving kiss on your shoulder before helping you work your way up and down his length. pretty moans slipping past his kiss bitten lips. “m close!” you whined and dug your nails into his shoulders. one of his hands left your waist, thumb rubbing circles on your clit helping you reach your nth orgasm of the night. “go ahead, dear. cum as many times as you want.”

#🔖: knavves #hq smut #haikyu smut #haikyuu smut #hq x reader smut #haikyuu x reader smut #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader smut #kotaro bokuto smut #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader smut #atsumu miya smut #suna smut #suna x reader smut #kita smut #kita x reader smut

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bonniepop · 2 months

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character: sawamura daichi words: 1,100+ warnings: nsfw; mdni. reader has depression. angst and comfort. notes: i was looking through my old fic and found this and it made me cry wtf is wrong with me

—

you had a particularly bad day today.

it feels dumb to keep carrying the weight of that as you went over to your fiancé’s, to your safe place, but the regret and disappointment and the angry voice in your head that’s been mean to you all day are making your skin crawl. this isn’t the first time you’ve turned to daichi for comfort, but it’s the first time that you feel like it's a waste of his time, like you don’t deserve it.

but still, you want to hear it. you want him to tell you that you’re so good for him, so beautiful, that you’re made for him and him alone. how your body is the most perfect thing in the world for him, how he can't stop himself from touching you, from finding pleasure with you, how he wants you so much he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

but you can’t. you don’t know what it is, but you can't—your body feels stiff and icky and gross, and the words that spill out of daichi’s mouth feel like lies.

his cock feels so good when he slides into you, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to grip the sheets and keen, when his hips sink down to meet yours.

but the feeling in your chest is ugly and gross, and your stomach feels like it's going to turn inside out. it's turning something beautiful into something terrifying and disgusting, you realize that you can’t do this. not right now.

“b-badge,” you force yourself to mutter—the safe word you’d chosen—but it comes out weak and soft and pathetic. you don’t know if you can take any more, if you can—

he can't hear you over the sound of his own pleasure. “i can't—fucking—agh,” he grunts, hips slamming into yours, and it feels so good, but you feel so sick.

“badge,” you say a little louder, voice a little thicker, and the hands gripping your wrists almost instantly loosen, the heavy weight hovering above you pulling away. daichi takes his warmth with him, and you feel empty and unwanted.

the look on daichi’s face, earlier a haze of lust and desire, has been replaced by confused yet nervous fear, and god. you hate yourself for this.

you hate yourself.

“are you okay, baby?” he asks, concerned. his voice is deep and raspy, and you don’t know how and why it makes you hate yourself even more. “did i hurt you?”

words don’t come out, but tears spill out of your eyes. you gently shove his shoulder—he gently pulls out of you—and you curl unto your side.

with heavy breaths, he leaves the bed, and you can hear him get a washcloth from your shared bathroom. he runs it under the tap for a bit before twisting the knob closed, and you hear his footfalls as he returns to you. he sits by your back and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently, rubbing your arm. “i know you’ll feel better when you’re a little cleaner. up, up.”

you don't fight back. you acquiesce with a shaky breath, letting him pull you up. he gently runs the cloth over your arms, shoulders, and neck, through your torso with soft strokes of the damp fabric. you say nothing when he pulls you close, and you settle into his lap, bare skin against skin. your arms tentatively wrap around him, and you press your face against his shoulder.

you ready your apologize with a pitifully small voice. “i’m sor—”

“i’m sorry,” daichi says softly before you can finish, pausing in running the cloth over your back. “i… i should’ve been able to tell that—should’ve known that this was the last thing you needed. but i didn’t. i was selfish, and i’m sorry.”

you curl around him tighter. “it's not your fault."

"it's not yours, either," he tells you gently.

you shake your head, hair curling against his skin. "i was being dumb.”

“hey,” he says with a frown, pushing you away to tilt your face up. your wet eyes meet his. “you’re not that.”

you can’t help your sobs and fall into him, and he tosses the washcloth aside to take you in his arms. he maneuvers you to the bed, and you cry against him.

“i don’t know why,” you wail in anguish. “i don’t why i’m like this!”

daichi lets you cry against his collar, stroking your hair as he listens, face turned to the ceiling.

“you’re amazing and wonderful, daichi, and i’m just—i’m just no one, and i don’t deserve you, but i'm ugly and gross and selfish because i don’t want to ever, ever let you go,” you sob.

he closes his eyes and his chest aches. he wants to get rid of this, he does, but he knows he’s powerless against the mean voice in your head, waiting in the dark corners of your mind that he can’t reach.

you huddle closer into his chest when he turns to wrap his arms around you and pull you close. “i’m so sorry,” you cry, “you don’t deserve this. you don’t deserve someone—someone like me.”

“that’s not true,” he murmurs against your hair, but he knows you can’t hear it through your pained sobs.

it takes a while, but your cries die down, and all that’s left is your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. you hiccup and sniffle and push yourself away, and daichi lets you.

you sit up and look down at your lap, taking deep breaths, staring at the glinting engagement ring on your hand. unbidden, the voice in your head asks, he regrets asking you, doesn’t he?

the bed creaks when daichi sits up next to you, reaching over your lap to take one of your hands in his.

it's a while before he speaks. “our hands look good together, huh?” he mumbles over your shoulder. you hiccup out a laugh, watching his fingers trail over your palm. he threads them together with yours, and he gives your hand a soft squeeze.

“i wish i knew what to say,” he tells you honestly, his voice near your ear and the warm of his chest pressed to your back. “i wish i knew what to say to keep that voice in your head quiet. i wish... i wish i could protect you from it. i wish i could hear them first, before you do, so i could take them away and hide them from you so you'll never have to be hurt by them ever again.”

he kisses your shoulder. “you’re the most important person in the world to me,” he murmurs against your skin, and your eyes slide shut before the heat behind them turns into water. “i love you with everything that i have. and in this moment, i want you to know that that’s the truth."

you sniffle, not saying anything.

“if i could get rid of this feeling for you every time, i would,” he continues. “i would do anything to make you happy. but i can’t. and i hate that i can’t. i can't do a lot of things because i'm just human and all i can do is love you and tell you over and over again. i love you, i love you, i love you," he says, punctuating each declaration of love with a kiss on your skin.

"i love you, too," you say, voice broken.

"i don't think i could ever stop," he admits with a shaky breath. "i don't want to stop. but when you apologize for being with me, it... it destroys me.

"please,” he says, almost begs, “please never apologize for being with me.”

you can’t help the sob that escapes you.

he lets go of your hand to tilt your face towards his. “we chose each other,” he reminds you, eyes shiny with unshed tears. “and i’ll choose you every time. no matter what anyone says. not even you.”

you shakily grasp his hand and lean up to kiss him, tears trailing down your cheeks once more. he grips your face in his hands and presses into you, and you’re falling against the bed in a haze of love and comfort and sadness and warmth.

you both pull away and you huddle against daichi’s side, hand on his warm chest. his arm is wrapped around your waist, his lips pressed against your hairline.

“i love you,” he whispers earnestly into your hair, and your heart swells, the beating of it ringing louder than the hatred in your mind. “i hope that… i hope it’s enough, even if it's just for today.”

your eyes drift shut and your body sinks closer to him. the voice in your head is much quieter now, almost nonexistent.

he kisses your forehead and pulls you closer.

#hq smut #haikyuu smut #daichi smut #hq x reader smut #daichi x reader #hq x reader #x reader smut #x reader #📝 — my writing #🍋 — my smut #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura

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a-kaash-me-outside · 3 months

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a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time.

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall.

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes.

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you.

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them.

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?”

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head.

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek.

“you sure are,” he says, warmly.

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality.

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second.

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout.

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you.

and you still don’t feel like a guest.

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine.

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass.

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own.

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine.

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch.

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?”

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’”

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest.

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper.

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect.

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more.

“you are,” you argue.

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day.

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting.

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere.

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.”

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree.

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh.

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back.

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head.

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement.

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be.

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies.

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand.

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down.

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind.

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall.

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can.

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark.

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer.

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours.

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep.

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again.

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them.

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things.

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him.

“samu,” you whine.

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore.

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does.

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one.

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face.

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly.

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little.

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses.

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you.

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment.

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert.

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it.

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets.

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine.

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will.

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours.

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him.

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them.

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock.

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock.

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.”

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face.

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.”

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you.

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something.

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going.

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod.

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms.

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it.

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer.

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t.

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t.

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you.

“what now?” you mumble, not moving.

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him.

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket.

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs.

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

you look happy there.

you look really happy there.

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♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)

#osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #osamu x reader smut #hq x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haiykuu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader smut #osamu x reader fluff #osamu fluff #osamu fic #hq fic #toriwritesshit #abd update!

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