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poo-poo-kun

Jan 5

Kyoma Mabuchi x Male!Reader

18+

sniffies hookup or something idk I'm tired of looking at this.

if there's any fuck ups that's grammarly's not mine lol

you are a man with male anatomy

I hope the 2 gay kyoma likers enjoy this

The loneliness in Tokyo had a different texture than back home. It was louder, brighter, yet somehow more hollow. It’s why you’d downloaded Sniffies—a desperate, late-night grasp for a connection, any connection, that wasn’t through a screen. His profile was a grainy, dark photo of a classic car's steering wheel. The bio was a single, stark line: "Not here for talk."

His message was just as blunt. An address. A time.

You almost didn't go. But the silence in your apartment was a physical weight on your shoulders, a sick feeling in your gut, so you went.

He was exactly as promised. A man carved from granite and old scars, leaning against a gunmetal grey Toyota 2000GT in a dimly lit parking garage. He didn't smile. His dark eyes scanned you once, a quick, efficient assessment, and he gave a single, sharp nod towards the passenger door.

"Get in."

The car, which you'd learn later is called "The Rosa" was a sanctuary of rumbling engine and the scent of oil and leather. He didn't speak as he drove, his focus absolute. He didn't take you to a love hotel, but to a place that was more garage than home, a concrete cave lit by a single, bare bulb. Tools and strange, wired weapons lay scattered next to mugs.

It was frankly kind of terrifying. You felt like you should run now if anything.

He tossed a clean, worn towel at you. "You're shivering."

It was only then that you realized you were. From nerves, from the cold, from the sheer, terrifying intensity of him. He lit a gas burner and put a kettle on, his movements economical and sure. He made two cups of instant coffee, sliding one across a workbench towards you.

He finally looked at you, really looked at you, and his gaze was like being stripped bare. There was no pretense, no performance. Just a brutal, unsettling honesty.

"You shouldn't be so trusting," he stated, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in your bones.

You wrapped your hands around the warm mug, the heat an anchor. "I guess so," you said, your voice steadier than you felt, "you were the closest guy to me."

A flicker of something—not a smile, never a smile, but a spark of stark, genuine interest—crossed his features before the usual scowl settled back in. He gave a single, grunted acknowledgment.

"...Hn."

As the rain pattered against the roof, Kyoma watched you intently, his dark eyes piercing through your soul. The air between you crackled with a new tension, a shift in the dynamic that had brought you to this garage sanctuary. He set his mug down with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.

"Come here," Kyoma ordered, his voice a low, gruff command. He leaned back against the workbench, his muscular thighs spread wide in clear invitation. Your heart raced as you stepped between them, the heat of his body searing your skin even through your clothes.

Without hesitation, you sank to your knees before him, your face level with the growing bulge in his jeans. Kyoma's hands came down to grip your hair, his calloused fingers tangling in your locks as he guided you closer to his crotch. The musky scent of him filled your nostrils, making your head swim with desire.

With trembling fingers, you reached up to unbuckle his belt, the leather strap slipping free with a soft hiss. You tugged down his zipper, the sound of the teeth parting echoing in the charged air. Kyoma lifted his hips, allowing you to yank his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard and already glistening at the tip.

Unable to resist, you leaned in and dragged your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tasting the salty-sweet flavor of his skin. Kyoma groaned above you, his grip on your hair tightening as he urged you to take more of him into your mouth. Obediently, you wrapped your lips around the swollen head, suckling gently as you savored his unique taste.

You took him deeper, inch by inch, until you felt the tip of his cock bump the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, massaging his length with your tongue.

Kyoma's grip on your hair became almost painful as he held you in place, your nose pressed against the wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock. "Fuck, just like that," he grunted, his hips rocking slightly as he fucked your face with short, shallow thrusts. The taste of him flooded your mouth, the scent of his arousal overwhelming your senses.

After a few intense moments, Kyoma abruptly pulled you off his cock, a strand of saliva connecting your lower lip to the engorged head. Before you could catch your breath, he was hauling you up and spinning you around, bending you over the workbench. The cold metal bit into your skin through your shirt as Kyoma made quick work of your pants, yanking them down to your ankles along with your underwear.

You heard the sound of a bottle being opened, the slick squelch of lube being applied to fingers. Then those fingers were probing at your asshole, pushing past the tight ring of muscle with a sudden, sharp thrust. You gasped, your back arching off the bench as Kyoma worked a finger, then two, then three, into your virgin hole. The stretch was intense, bordering on painful, but you welcomed it, craving the intrusion.

Without warning, Kyoma removed his fingers and replaced them with the thick head of his cock. With one brutal thrust, he pushed forward, the head popping past your tight rim and sinking into your hot, silken passage. You cried out, tears springing to your eyes at the sudden, overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely.

Kyoma paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the thick intrusion stretching you open. Then he was moving again, his hips rolling forward as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. He started a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing against your prostate and sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

"Fuck, you're so tight,"

Kyoma froze, buried to the hilt inside your virgin hole. His hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your flesh as he held himself still, allowing you a moment to adjust to the intense sensation of being so utterly filled for the first time.

"Jeez, dude.. I'm, uh.. a virgin. Can you go slow with me?"

He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot against your ear. "What did you say?" his voice was a low, dangerous rumble, tinged with a hint of surprise and a darker undercurrent of... something else.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your throat. "I... I'm sorry, I should have said... I've never done this before, sir. I'm a virgin."

A tense silence followed your confession, stretching out like the taut string of a bow before it snaps. Kyoma's grip on your hips tightened fractionally, his fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. You felt the hard, hot length of him throbbing inside you, a silent, insistent presence that made your stomach flutter with nerves and a traitorous spark of anticipation.

"I see," Kyoma said finally, his voice still low but now carefully controlled. He sounded almost... thoughtful. Not at all what you would have expected.

His hips shifted slightly, a small, almost imperceptible movement that made you gasp as the head of his cock rubbed against that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. A shudder ran through your body at the sudden jolt of pleasure, your fingers scrabbling for purchase against the unyielding surface of the workbench.

"Well, I'll have to be gentle then," Kyoma murmured, a hint of dark amusement in his tone that made your heart race for an entirely different reason. "Since it's your first time."

He started to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate. He took his time, letting you feel every inch of his hard, hot length sliding in and out of your virgin hole.

Kyoma felt your cock twitch and leak against the workbench as he continued his slow, gentle thrusts into your virgin hole. He could sense your embarrassment, your face hidden behind your hands as you whimpered at the overwhelming new sensations. Leaning in closer, his stubble rasped against your cheek as he murmured lowly in your ear.

"Shh, it's okay... just relax. Let yourself feel it." His voice was a deep, soothing rumble, almost hypnotic in its cadence. One hand left your hip to brush your hair back from your face, his calloused fingers surprisingly tender as they cupped your cheek. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his dark, intense gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded softly. "Don't hide. I want to see you, to see how you react to being filled for the first time." His hips made a slow, deliberate circle, grinding his pelvis against your ass, his cock stirring your insides in a way that made your toes curl.

You felt a fresh gush of precum leak from your aching, neglected cock at the intense stimulation. Kyoma noticed, his gaze flicking down to your dripping erection. A small, approving grunt sounded in his throat.

"Hn... you're leaking so much. Is it because of me?" he asked, a hint of masculine satisfaction in his tone. His hand left your cheek to wrap around your stiff, throbbing shaft, giving it a slow, teasing stroke. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this too..."

He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust of his hips, burying himself balls-deep inside your virgin hole. You cried out, your back arching as pleasure sparked through your nerves like lightning. Kyoma just smirked, his dark eyes glinting with a fierce, hungry light as he started to move faster, his grip on your cock tightening in rhythm with his thrusts. "Hn.. C'mere."

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, claiming it, dominating it. It was a kiss that stole your breath and set your nerves on fire, a kiss that promised pleasure and the absence of gentleness.

He leaned back, his hands gripping your hips again as he started to move inside you with slow, deliberate thrusts. Each movement sent sparks of pleasure radiating through your body, stoking the fire building in your core. Kyoma watched your face intently, his dark eyes glinting with a mix of hunger and a darker, more possessive emotion.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice a low, hypnotic rumble. "I'll make sure all your firsts are... memorable." His hand tightened around your leaking cock, stroking it in time with his deep, powerful thrusts. "I'll teach you things about pleasure and desire that will make this shy, blushing act of yours seem like a distant memory."

He leaned in again, his stubble rasping against your cheek, his breath hot against your ear. "By the time I'm done with you, the only thing you'll be screaming will be my name," he promised darkly. "And you'll be begging me for more, no matter how much it makes this pretty face of yours flush red."

"Your.. name, sir?" You spattered out, unsure what to think. You felt as though all the thoughts in your head ran over each other, making you think of everything and nothing at the same time.

Kyoma's eyes narrowed at your stammered question, a flicker of something dark and intense passing through their depths. For a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable, his grip on your hips tightening almost imperceptibly. Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a smirk that held a hint of wicked amusement and a promise of something far more sinister.

"Kyoma," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that seemed to resonate through your very bones. "Just Kyoma. I told you, you don't need to call me 'sir'." His hips made a sharp, sudden thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass, his hard length stirring your insides in a way that made your toes curl, and your breath catch in your throat.

"Remember it well," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. "Because you'll be screaming it loud and clear before the night is through." His hand pumped your cock with a new sense of purpose, his grip firm and relentless, matching the deep, powerful thrusts of his hips.

"Say it," he commanded, his voice a dark, husky growl that sent shivers down your spine. "Say my name, and I'll give you pleasure beyond anything you've ever known." His eyes bored into yours, intense and demanding, a silent challenge glinting in their depths. He was waiting, waiting for you to surrender yourself to him completely, to give him the power to shatter your innocence and remake you in his image.

... (i don't feel like writing that imagine screaming that shit out 💀)

"That's it," he purred, his voice a low, approving rumble. "Good boy." His hand tightened around your cock, stroking it with a new sense of ownership, a silent claim staked on your pleasure and your virgin body. His hips rolled forward, deep and hard, burying his thick length inside you to the hilt. He grinded against your prostate, the head of his cock kissing that sensitive bundle of nerves with each powerful thrust.

"Louder," Kyoma demanded, his voice a dark, insistent growl. "Let me hear you scream it." He punctuated his words with a sharp, brutal thrust, a command for your submission. His other hand gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze. "Scream my name, and I'll give you the pleasure you've been craving. Keep it locked inside, and I'll take what I want anyway."

Ah fuck, you thought. This was humiliating; he knew it was humiliating. But you did it anyway. Your cheeks burned and your stomach dropped as you shouted Kyoma's name to him.

"Shit, just like that," he growled, his voice rough with lust and the dark thrill of conquest. His hips surged forward, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, driving into your virgin body with a single-minded focus on his own pleasure. The workbench creaked and groaned beneath you.

Kyoma's hand flew over your cock, stroking it in time with his brutal thrusts. He could feel it pulsing and twitching in his grip, the skin hot and slick with your own arousal. He knew you were close, could sense the way your body tensed and shuddered beneath him, teetering on the brink of your very first climax.

Kyoma's grin turned feral, his eyes glinting with a wild, triumphant light as your scream of his name echoed through the garage. He could feel the way your body clenched around him, your virgin walls fluttering and tightening as if trying to hold him inside you. But he was relentless, his hips never faltering in their deep, powerful thrusts. Each one drove him harder and deeper into your untouched depths, claiming you, ruining you for anyone else.

"That's it, scream for me," Kyoma growled, his voice rough with dark satisfaction. "Let everyone know who you belong to now." His hand pumped your cock faster, his grip tighter, squeezing your aching flesh in time with the brutal pounding of his hips. He could feel your pleasure building inside you as your body prepared to ejaculate.

Kyoma leaned down, his stubble rasping against your neck, your cheek, his teeth finding your shoulder. He bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to mark your skin, to leave a reminder of his claim on your virgin body. His other hand gripped your hip, his fingers sinking into your soft flesh, holding you in place as he rode you hard and fast.

"Come for me," Kyoma commanded, his voice a low, demanding rumble. "Come on my cock like a cute little foreigner. Show me how much you love being fucked by a real man."

Kyoma felt your small body convulsing beneath him, your virgin cock pulsing and throbbing in his tight grip as your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave. He could feel the hot, sticky essence of your first orgasm with a man coating his fingers, your untouched flesh twitching and jerking with each intense, overwhelming spasm of pleasure.

"That's it, let it all out," Kyoma growled, his voice rough with dark satisfaction. He worked your spasming cock with ruthless efficiency, wringing out every last drop of your release, prolonging your first climax until you were left gasping and shaking in his iron hold.

He pushed himself up, his muscles flexing as he rolled off you and onto his feet. Kyoma tucked himself back into his jeans, the movement causing a fresh trickle of cum to dribble down your thigh. He noticed, his dark gaze flicking to the obscene sight, a flicker of male pride and possession in their depths.

"Stay there," he ordered, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Let me clean you up before I take you home." With that, he turned and strode off towards a small sink in the corner of the garage, leaving you sprawled out on the workbench, your body aching in the most delicious of ways, and your mind reeling with the intensity of your shared passion.

As Kyoma washed up, rubbing a wet towel over his greased wet cock, he called over his shoulder, "Don't think this means we're done, though. That was just the beginning." His voice held a dark, wicked promise, a hint of wicked delight still to come.

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