sub!tsumu who falls so easily into subspace. like he gets so dumb and vulnerable for you, completely entrusting his body to you. he lets you use and play with him all you want, and all he can do is babble and cry and thank you over and over again.
and when he’s overstimulated he gets really, really dumb. when you have him sat with his back to your chest, holding him to you, a hand tugging and rolling at his nipples, the other fisting at his cock endlessly. you’re unforgiving as you pull orgasm after orgasm out of him— his legs are trembling, flopped lazily onto the bed because he no longer had the energy to try and fight you and clamp them close; his eyes are crossed, his face and chest are flushed, his cheeks damp with tears, lip quivering as you messily stroke at his cock. his cock’s a mess too, just drenched in cum and spit and it hurts, hurts so bad, but he can’t help but want more, more, more—
do with this what u will bb i just had to share he’s always heavy on my mind 😓
"c'mon babe, i can't," atsumu sobs. tears are streaming down his flushed cheeks and his pink lips are bitten raw from all the times he tried to quiet his own noises. he's brainless—every silly little thought of his gone and replaced by the way you just won't stop stroking his cock, making his muscles tremble under your touch. it feels so good it hurts, and his mind is torn in an endless battle of trying to sneak away from the sensation or thrust towards it. "i can't cum anymore," he cries, voice uncharacteristically high and whiny, "i'll die."
"so dramatic," you tsk, the hand that's not playing with his cock coming up across his chest to wrap around his neck. "stop talking, you're distracting me."
atsumu chokes on a garbled moan as you twist your hand around his shaft in a way that makes his thighs shake. he jerks forward, only to be pinned back to his original position by the fingers digging into either side of his jugular. “not my cock,” he rasps, grasping helplessly at the blankets below him. “not my cock, please not my cock. i can’t, i can’t, i can’t—”
his words taper off into a breathy exhale as you release his length, hand coming to rest along the inside of his thigh. “not your cock, hm?” he nods dumbly, even the slight movement making his eyes swirl with dizzying colors.
“please not my cock,” he slurs, drool pooling at the corner of his lips. his hazy eyes search for yours, pleading. “’nywhere else, jus’ not my cock.”
“aw, anywhere else?” you coo, letting go of his neck to thread your fingers through his hair. shuffling back, you put a hand on his upper back, tenderly pushing him forward until he’s on his hands and knees, back arching. “how ‘bout this cute ass, then? you mind if i play with it?”
he spreads his legs wide, allowing you to kneel between the back of his thighs and mold the flesh of his ass. his body’s too tired for him to balance his weight of his forearms, so he’s like putty below you, responsive and willing and unable to fight the pleasure you give him.
“no,” he responds, muffled by how his face is pressed into the sheets. “touch me... there. please.”
“there you go,” you purr. “telling me what you want.”
atsumu’s ears practically perk up at the telltale sound of the bottle of lube being opened. you lather up a couple of fingers and he keens, a sound that’s torn from his chest, as you circle his rim. he subconsciously wiggles his hips, trying to get you inside him already, and you scoff, giving him a sharp slap on the ass and making him whine.
“don’t be bad,” you scold, punctuating your order with pinching his flesh.
“sorry,” he snivels, “sorry. jus’ want it so bad, y'always make me feel so good.”
you lean forward to kiss the back of his neck and he shudders at the affection. “i know, baby,” you whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “i’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”
you ease all his concerns by pushing your fingers in all the way to the third knuckle and he thrashes, nothing but hiccups and moans pouring from his mouth. his tight hole flutters around the intrusion and you grin, prodding your fingertips along his prostate and watching how his knuckles whiten.
“oh god,” he wails. “oh,” you pull your fingers out completely, before immediately thrusting back in, “god.”
you push and pull in and out in a steady rhythm, and just when atsumu starts to get comfortable, just when he starts shifting his hips back to meet your fingers, you add a third, forcing his eyes to roll back.
“you think you could cum just from this?” you purr, other hand rubbing circles along his lower back. “you think you could cum just from my fingers in your ass like a slut?”
he replies instantaneously, a garbled “yes” spilling from his lips as easy as air from his lips. “i’m your slut,” he mumbles. “and you feel so,” a fourth finger joins the other three, “so good, fuck!”
you let your fingers fill him whole, refusing to pull them out and instead just rotating your wrist and letting them press fully against his prostate. “that feel good? huh?”
“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” he says in a hushed tone, hands clenching into tight fists. you hold down on the bundle of nerves and he gasps, fighting to get air into his lungs. “gonna cum so hard.”
“do it, baby. be a good boy ‘n cum.”
“gonna,” he chokes out, before taking a sharp inhale of breath and spilling cum all over his thighs and the bed below him. his shoulders are wound tight—you can see the muscles constricting under tan skin as he pushes himself farther into the bed, hips rolling in a sad attempt to grind his cock onto something. “fuck,” he whimpers as you fuck him through his orgasm. “holy fuck.”
you gently massage the tense muscles in his back as he comes down from his high, panting with heavy heaves of his chest. “that’s a good boy,” you murmur, giving him a peck on the cheek.
you cradle his face with your palm and he nuzzles farther into the touch with a small hum. ignoring the squelch of cum below him, his eyelids flutter shut and you visibly feel him relax, exhaustion catching up with him.
“that’s a good boy.”
if you enjoyed, reblogs + comments are appreciated!
warnings: 18+, sub(ish)!suna, f!reader, pegging, feminization (suna wears a dress), mommy kink, pegging, mention of tw trump, kind of dubious consent but i assure you suna wants to get pegged even tho he acts like he doesn’t, everyone cyberbullies atsumu in the end <3
w/c: 5.2k (look away)
a/n: hi hi this is my submission for @dilfhub‘s men in uniform collab with a bit of an unconventional uniform hehe. and maybe i didn’t follow the prompt exactly whoops
suna takes one look inside the box he’s been handed by his team’s manager, gingerly pulling the lid open and being met with black fabric and white frills, and immediately hands it back, a scowl on his face.
“i’m not wearing that.”
“oh c’mon, sunarin,” atsumu pipes up from next to him, holding a similar box in his hands. “it’s for the kids.”
“well fuck the kids,” suna deadpans. “i’m not fucking wearing a maid costume.”
“language.” his coach’s booming voice echoes throughout the gymnasium.
“okay, i’m not fricking wearing a maid costume,” he hisses. “why the frick did we choose to do a maid cafe? there were so many other fundraiser ideas. it’s the olympics for god’s sake; we could’ve done a bake sale, a car wash, a shirtless car wash!”
atsumu hums thoughtfully. “a shirtless car wash would’ve been nice.” he rubs his stomach, the fabric of his tank top bunching around his fingers. “i’ve been working on my abs.”
suna huffs at the clear disinterest his so-called friend has for his problem, stomping across the wood-paneled floor of the gym to go up to his coach.
“hibarida, i’m not wearing that.”
his coach doesn’t even bother looking up from his clipboard, checking off some boxes, and responds blankly, “then you’re off the team.” the apathy in his tone tells suna that the conversation is over before it’s begun, and suna storms back over to his teammates, grumbling profanities all the while.
“i don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to you,” aran says as suna nears. “you’re not the type of guy to get all insecure about your masculinity, so what’s the issue?”
“it’s my girlfriend,” he says, plopping down onto the floor, long legs extended. he looks up at aran and atsumu’s curious gazes; they’ve known you for years, ever since you and suna started dating, and they consider you a close friend.
“she’s been wanting me to wear a maid dress for ages.”
“’m not seeing the problem here, sunarin,” atsumu pipes up, brows furrowing as he chews on his lip. “from what is sounds like, she just wants to jump your bones while you wear a lil’ skirt. seems like harmless fun.”
“yeah, man,” aran adds. “she’s dealt with your shit for so long. least you could do is indulge her.”
suna groans, dragging the collar of his shirt up until it’s clinging to the crown of his head, the fabric completely covering his face and muffling his voice. “you don’t understand. she'll go like—" he waves his hands around, "—feral. she'll turn into a nympho."
"oh no," atsumu say sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "sunarin's gonna have his hot girlfriend drooling all over him because he wears a stupid dress. what a tragedy."
suna pops his head out of his shirt and cocks an eyebrow. "you think my girlfriend's hot?"
the air hangs awkwardly as the blond scratches the back of his head.
"...no?"
"oh, so you don't think she's hot?"
atsumu furrows his eyebrows, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips as he thinks very hard and very carefully about what he says next—a rare occurrence.
"no?" he tries. "yes?" he groans. "i don't know what ya want me to say, you're making my brain hurt."
aran shoves suna, almost making him roll over. "stop teasing him. this idiot'll take forever to figure out what to say."
"oi, i'm not an idiot!"
"yes, you are."
"no 'm not! if anything, you—well not you but—'samu's more of an idiot than me!"
"i highly doubt that."
suna lets the bickering fade into the background as he stares up at the blinding fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling, trying to figure out how the fuck's he's going to get out of this one.
"oi, rintarou!" your voice echoes through the hallway as you close the front door behind you, unceremoniously throwing your bag onto the dining table and shedding your coat, hanging it on a chair. "where're you?"
it was an off-day for the japan team, so suna didn't have practice and had the whole day free. typically on days like these, you'd find him sprawled on the couch, halfway through his sixth nap of the day, a chuupet hanging out the corner of his mouth as the tv blares the comical sound effects of some miscellaneous american cartoon. it was surprising to see the couch not only empty, but organized—the pillows aligned at their places on the edge of the sofa and knit blanket folded—with absolutely no sign of your boyfriend.
the mystery deepens as you walk through the apartment in complete darkness. not a single light is on, save for the soft glow of a lamp in your bedroom. you make a beeline for the room, haphazardly shoving the door open, seeing a very sneaky-looking suna crouching, with his entire upper half in the closet.
"jesus," you say, startled. "what the hell are you doing?"
at your voice, suna jerks, his head hitting the bottom of the shelf he'd been looking under. "shit!"
he rubs his head, looking at you with a mildly-panicked expression on his face, shifting his body to face yours while nudging a white box out of your line of sight with his foot. you narrow your eyes, picking up on the action immediately.
"hey, welcome home," he says, plastering on a strained smile. "uh, i was gonna order your favorite for dinner, so i'm gonna go do that—"
he makes a move to get up, straightening his knees and hurrying past you to get out the door, but you stop him with a firm hold on his arm.
"what's in the box?" you raise an eyebrow at him, and he swallows nervously. his eyes dart around the room as if he's trying to pinpoint all possible routes for escape.
"what box?" suna's voice cracks and he fails to cover it up with a cough.
you grip tightens. "don't play coy, rintarou. what's in the box?"
maybe you're being dramatic—that's not entirely out of character. it could just be a surprise gift or something, but if you're being honest with yourself, you're a bitch.
a bitch that really likes seeing suna squirm when he's been caught doing something that he doesn't want you to know.
you're just about to take matters into your own hands and see what's in it for yourself, but the music of your ringtone catches you off guard as it plays from your purse. glancing at suna, you glare.
"this isn't over. move the box and you're dead."
he gulps, nodding. he's already resigned himself to his fate—unlike you, suna knows exactly what's going to happen once you find out. he's screwed.
literally.
walking out of the bedroom, you shuffle through your bag and pick up the phone, lip curling distastefully at the screen when you see it's atsumu calling.
that's never good.
"yo!" his obnoxiously cheerful voice sounds tinny as it spills through the speaker.
"hi, atsumu," you respond, already losing your patience. "what's up?"
there's the sound of shuffling in the background.
"did sunarin tell you about what we gotta do for the fundraiser? the olympics one?"
your eyebrows furrow—you have absolutely no idea where he's going with this. "no, he didn't. is there something i should know?"
"not really. we're doing a maid cafe cus, like japan," he chortles. "so we've all gotta wear these maid costumes. sunarin was acting all weird about telling you for, uh, reasons, so i figured i'd help him out."
the puzzle pieces start clicking together—that explains your boyfriend's insistence on keeping the box hidden and his weird behavior. you almost want to laugh out loud—it's a fucking maid costume!—at your stroke of luck.
oh man, is he gonna get it tonight.
nine months ago, suna had propositioned you with an interesting offer—something to spice up your sex life.
"i'm not fucking wearing that, you perv," you snorted, looking at the tiny, lacy number that suna had bought for you under the guise of a 'cute costume'. it was a maid costume that strategically showed more skin than not—something straight out of a teenage boy's hentai fantasy.
"aw, come on." suna waved it front of you, the doily of the skirt swaying in the air. "you'll look sexy."
"i always look sexy," you retorted, crossing your arms across your chest. "why do you want me to wear this anyway? is this a sex thing?"
"of course it's a sex thing. it says 'sexy maid costume' on the package."
you rolled your eyes. "forget i asked."
suna moved closer, holding the costume in front of him to see how it would look on your body. he squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side, a mischevious smile growing on his face. "damn," he whistled. "you'd look really sexy in this."
"shut up."
"i'm serious!"
you chuckled, turning your face to the side in a half-attempt to hide your smile. "okay, fine."
his ears perked up.
"let's say i go along with this. just once," you emphasized. "i dress up and we do this stupid little roleplay and i become your stupid little maid. what's in it for me?"
suna grinned, something playful simmering just underneath the surface. "easy. if you wear this dress," he swished it in front of you for good measure, "i'll wear a maid dress too, and you can do whatever you want to me. anything."
"huh." you hummed, tapping your chin in thought. "anything?"
"...anything legal."
"aw man," you pouted. "so i guess murder's off the table." your lips stretched into a smirk that made goosebumps prickle his skin.
"so i can peg you?"
suna immediately regretted bringing it up in the first place.
his eyes widened. "uh, well..."
"'uh, well...' what?" you laughed, stepping closer to squish his cheeks with your fingers. "come on, what were you thinking about doing to me in this little thing? huh?"
he mumbled something quietly. you released his face.
"didn't hear you."
he coughed. "anal."
"i fucking knew it! so it's fair: an eye for an eye." you pointed to yourself, "maid dress and anal," and then turned your finger around to point at him, "maid dress and anal."
"fine," he grumbled, confused at how he'd won and lost at the same time. "maid dress and anal for everybody."
"exactly!" you hummed, rubbing the fabric of the dress between your fingertips. "karl marx would be proud."
you snicker to yourself at the memory. that was months ago—the sex was great, and you'd done anal plenty of times after that first try, but you'd also completely forgotten about that promise. now that there was such a stark reminder in front of you of your agreement, well, it's no wonder suna was so nervous about bringing up the fundraiser.
that fucking sneak.
"thanks for telling me, atsumu."
"uh, yeah, no problem! just... don't tell him i told you, alright? he has too much blackmail on me, i don't want to get on his bad side."
"of course, of course, don't worry about that! this is just between you and me."
you hear a relieved sigh on the other side of the line.
"alright well, that was it. talk to you later, i guess."
"yeah, totally. have a good night."
you stroll back into the bedroom with a smug smile on your lips, heavily contrasting suna, who's so pale and nervous that he looks like he's going to pass out.
you wave your phone in front of his face. "so, a dear teammate of yours told me something interesting."
he groans, dragging a hand down the front of his face. "was it atsumu? i swear to god i'm going to kill that son of a—"
"—i'm neither going to confirm nor deny that statement," you quip. "but someone told me that you've got a maid costume in your possession."
"yeah, well," he flounders for an excuse, before dropping his head. "yeah."
you make an amused sound. "maid costume... maid costume... i remember something about a maid costume... a bit of a quid pro quo. that ringing any bells for you?"
he fiddles with his fingers, looking anywhere but you. "uh huh."
"i think it was something along the lines that if i wear a maid costume and get fucked in the ass, you wear a maid costume and get fucked in the ass. that sound right?"
he winces. "you sure it wasn't, like, i wear a maid costume and make you breakfast-in-bed? 'cus i make great pancakes."
you give an apologetic smile—you both know that you don't mean it, not in the slightest. "no, i don't think so. i think you agreed to get pegged."
suna grits his teeth. "yeah, i guess i did."
you walk towards him until he's pressed against the wall, gazing at you with barely-concealed lust. his heart beats wildly in his chest as you run your thumb over his lower lip, his cheeks flushed pink and pupils dilated. his lips part slightly as you wedge the finger between them, and they close over the first knuckle.
you chuckle.
this is suna rintarou—behind his otherwise disinterested exterior, he's really nothing more than a desperate cockslut if you press the right buttons. with some light touches and filthy words, it's easy to get him all cute and flustered and needy.
he suckles on the tip of your thumb as you push it further into the wet heat of his mouth, pressing down on his tongue until drool trickles from the corner of his lip. satisfied by his near-immediate submission, you pull it out of his mouth and he makes a small sound at the loss.
you tilt your head towards the box, still on the floor and half-buried in the closet.
"why don't you go put that on, hm?"
suna inhales sharply, and you watch as he walks towards the closet, retrieving the white box. he lifts the lid and removes the dress, letting it hang over his arm. you’re too caught up in thinking about how it’ll look on him, how cute he’ll look all dressed up, your eyes zoning out on the dress. it’s only when he clears his throat that you draw your attention back to him.
his face is flushed, dashes of pink across his cheeks and nose. he doesn’t meet your intense gaze, fiddling with the frilly hem of the dress. “don’t watch,” he mumbles.
you chuckle, granting him some mercy and averting your eyes.
“don’t look.”
you huff. “i won’t.”
you hear the shuffling of clothing and see a flash of mahogany as he whips his shirt off and throws it somewhere, waiting patiently. after a few moments of silence, curiosity gets the best of you, and you sneak a quick glance in suna’s direction.
you’re met with a pair narrowed, celedon-colored eyes staring at you from across the room.
“bitch,” he hisses. “i told you not to look.”
turning towards him, you cock an eyebrow. "do you really want to take that attitude with me right now, brat?"
he stills, face flushing bright red.
"sorry," he mumbles, flattening the pleats of the skirt with his palm. "i don't wanna be a brat."
"go lay on the bed," you say, voice disinterested. you try not to smirk at the way the fabric of the dress twitches as suna's cock hardens at your words. you open a drawer and yank out a bottle of lube before tossing it to him. "and loosen yourself up for me, would you?"
you head out of the bedroom, leaving behind a very flustered and very needy suna, eyes wide and mouth slack-jaw as he watches you leave.
pushing open the bathroom door, you immediately head to the small closet in the corner, reaching behind a pile of towels and paper towel rolls that inconspicuously hide the black strap hidden behind them. you blindly grab until you feel the squishy silicone shaft and the leather of the harness, smiling as you pull it out of its hiding spot.
you nearly rip off your clothes in haste, images of suna's fucked-out face flashing in your mind and making your clit throb as you shimmy into some black lingerie. posing in the mirror, you let your hands trail along your tits, down your sides, and across your ass, admiring your soft curves and sharp edges.
"man, i really am sexy," you whisper to yourself.
the cherry on the top is the strap—you lift the leather straps up your legs, tightening them so they're snug on your thighs. you look back in the mirror, giggling quietly as you swing your hips and the dildo swings with you.
"and i'm sexy with a dick."
you examine your face for a quick second, eyes darting over the reflection of your features while you try different faces: snarling, blowing a kiss, biting your lip.
you're just about to pretend to give yourself a handjob, snickering all the while, when a muffled moan makes your ears perk up.
oh yeah. suna's in there... fingering himself...
the thought makes you embarrassingly wet, and you slip a finger just over your clit to alleviate some of the tension.
this isn't the first time suna's subbed for you and had something in his ass—the two of you have experimented with fingers and toys—but never have you tried anything so... intimate.
never have you fucked him.
your body burns with arousal as you creep back into the bedroom, and you gnaw at your lower lip.
when you walk through the door, you're met with suna on his back, legs bent and spread wide, two fingers inside his hole, slick with lube. his head is thrown back onto the pillow, hair disheveled as it plasters to his forehead, and eyes are closed. quiet curses float through his lips—he probably doesn’t want to be too loud so that you hear him from the other room.
with every move of his fingers, he writhes, hips shifting as he tries to get his fingers in deeper. he adds a third, rotating his wrist and curling his fingertips. suna lurches, eyes shooting open, as he moans loud from the direct stimulation to his prostate.
his watery gaze focuses on you and he whimpers, taking in you in your full glory—the outfit that you're decked out in accentuates your body perfectly, emphasizing his favorite parts of you, and his eyes widen at the sight of the strap hanging from your waist.
he chokes on a sob because oh my god, you're going to be inside him.
"please," he whines, removing his fingers from his ass, careful not to touch the white frills of the dress that rest on his upper thigh. "i need it so bad."
you exhale, approaching the bed with an unreadable expression on your face, before crawling over him. you lean forward so that your tits are brushing against his chest, lips teasingly close to the sensitive spot on his neck. you blow lightly, snickering at the way he shudders at the cool sensation.
"aw, baby needs it? you need mommy's cock inside you?"
he drops his head onto the bed, looking at you with pleading, glossy eyes. spreading his legs wider, he gives you room to shift your weight and lightly grind the strap against him, making him shudder.
"yes, please fuck me. i want you to fuck me, i need you to fuck me, please—"
his words stumble off into a strangled groan as you slick up the silicone with lube before pushing, just the slightest, into his hole.
he clenches around the tip, body trembling at the intoxicating intrusion. you hike up his legs a little more, raising your hands to hold the soft skin on the underside of his thighs, pushing his knees to his chest.
you rock your hips in another inch and suna keens, eyes rolling back and hand coming to clutch your wrist in an attempt to keep himself grounded.
"f-fuck," he breathes as you give little thrusts that force him to take more and more of the dildo. he mewls at the stretch. "i f-feel so full, oh fuck!"
"yeah?" your voice is strained as you see suna below you, the erotic position making you even hornier. "you feel good?"
he whimpers, his hands coming up above his head to tangle themselves in the sheets. he loves this—just laying back and taking whatever you give him however you want to—the perfect pillow princess.
"feels s'good, mommy," he gasps, shutting his eyes tight. "you fill me so well, fill me so much, gonna make me—"
you bottom out, pressing the spongy tip of the strap directly against his prostate, and he sucks in a breath like the wind's been knocked out of him.
"holy shit."
noting his reaction, you aim at that spot again, his thighs flexing at your sides. "does this feel good? right here?"
"mm, yeah," he hums, back arching off of the bed to urge you deeper. "right there, fuck, right there!"
you establish a steady rhythm, the slick noises of your hips meeting his ass filling the room. suna's untouched cock bobs helplessly along his abs, drooling pre-cum, and you almost feel bad at the way he pitifully glances down at it.
"will you—can you touch me? please, mommy?" he gives you puppy dog eyes, lower lip jutting out, before you thrust in again and his eyes close as he moans.
"sure, baby," you hum, dropping one of his legs to wrap your fingers around his cock. "all you had to do was ask."
you slowly stroke up and down, matching the movement of your hips.
"ah, mommy, feels so so good," he sobs mindlessly. "so good, mommy, you feel so good inside me."
you bite back a moan of your own as his words soak your pussy, the ache in your clit incessantly begging you to indulge yourself.
and god, you want to—you want to slip a finger or two down your panties and swirl them in patterns that make you see stars. you want him to stuff his cock inside you and hit that gooey spot that turns your limbs to jelly. you want it so bad—you're selfish—and it honestly pains you to see suna like this, writhing in pleasure, with absolutely no physical relief for yourself, save for the occasional pressure on your clit.
"can i stop?" you begin slowing your thrusts, making suna crack his eyes open.
"y-yeah, of course," he says, voice hoarse. "why, do you not like it?"
you shake your head, fingers trembling as they remove the harness. "no, fuck, i love it," you insist. "but i just," your hands trail up his chest as you straddle him, "god, i want you inside me so bad."
his eyes widen as you hover over him, lining up his cock with your drooling pussy. you glance up, a hesitant expression on your face. "that okay with you?"
he groans, hands coming up to rest on your hips. "shit, yes. use me, mommy. do whatever you want, fuck."
with that, you slowly drop down, letting your walls adjust to the stretch of his cock. "hngh, you're so big," you breathe. "feels amazin'"
suna can't respond, only choked whimpers coming from him as your tight, wet cunt envelops him and makes his stomach pool with arousal. his eyes are locked onto the erotic way your tits bounce as you rock your hips, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist as you begin picking up the pace.
your knees and abs are screaming, already exerted from when you were pegging him, as you lift your body up and drop it down on his cock again and again and again. you're so pent up—you can already feel your orgasm creeping up on you after just a minute—and as suna twitches inside you, you know that he's close too.
"m-mommy," he whispers. "kiss me? please kiss me, i've been so good, a good boy just for you, yeah? please?"
you almost scoff—good, my ass—but he looks so desperate and you feel so desperate, that you consider letting it slide just this once.
at your silence, he slowly begins panicking—he's gonna cum soon and he wants to feel you, he wants to feel your lips on his, he wants it more than anything he's ever wanted before, so why won't you just say yes?
"please, mommy," he begs, voice pitching upwards. "god, please, fuck, mommy, please? kiss me? 'm gonna cum, please kiss me when i cum? please, please, please, 'm sorry, i want it, i need it, fuck, mommy, kiss m—"
you cut him off with a hungry kiss, your hands pushing down on the planes of his chest to balance yourself. it's like the two of you have been starving as you lap at each others' mouths, tongues and teeth licking and nipping. the rumbly vibrations of his moans flow through your lips as he bucks his hips up, eagerly getting more friction from your gushing cunt.
the sounds of your skin and mouth against his are downright lewd, but they just turn you on more as you gyrate your hips, wanting to get even dirtier noises from suna.
one of his hands trails down your waist and across your stomach to toy with your clit, and you jerk, the muscles in your abdomen clenching painfully.
"oh, fuck," you say breathily, throwing your head back. "that feels so fucking good."
his thighs quiver as you continue fucking yourself onto him. "shit," he hisses, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure. "you're so fucking tight, mommy, shit. gonna fucking milk me dry—"
with another movement of your hips, you're sucking in a breath—the feelings of being so full, having your clit stimulated, and seeing this debauched version of your boyfriend quickly, quickly sending you to your peak.
"'m gonna cum," you moan airily. "cum with me, fuck, be a good boy and cum with me."
"yes, mommy." suna's wrecked—tears are streaming down his face and neck, his lips are bitten raw, and his face is so flushed—he just looks so fucking cute. with another flutter of your pussy around him, his eyes roll back in his pretty, empty head, and a whine is ripped from his throat.
"cumming!"
you feel hot spurts of his cum inside you and in an instant your thighs twist and you're cumming with him, a high washing over your body and dousing you in indescribable pleasure that has your veins burning in desire and limbs shaking in a full-body shiver. you all but collapse onto suna's sweaty chest, the two of you panting and catching your breath.
he gently wraps his hand around the back of your neck and pulls you into a lazy kiss. "you should peg me again," he whispers into your lips. "just, properly next time."
you make an offended noise. "it's tiring!"
"mhm, okay." he presses his lips against your forehead before yawning, shuffling you so that you're laying on top of him. "we'll clean up in a few."
"sure," you say, exhausted. "because we never fall asleep."
within a few minutes, you've both dozed off in each others' arms, bodies simmering in the glow of post-sex haze.
the next day, atsumu gets a twitter notification bright and early. he groans, opening his eyelids just a sliver to see that it's from suna tagging him in something. shrugging it off, he makes a big show of turning over, burying his head under the pillow.
he almost immediately regrets the decision of ignoring the post, because approximately seven seconds later, his phone is pratically blowing up, the dings and whistles of notifications of every single social media app he has bouncing around the room.
exasperatedly, he unlocks his phone, eyes widening to the size of saucers as he clicks on the very first notification and opens twitter.
@sunarin posted a minute ago: “atsumu miya farts in his sleep.”
> click to view video
hands shaking in fear, atsumu clicks the link only to see exactly what was advertised: a video of him passed out in a hotel room, farting and then mumbling in his sleep. to his horror, the video only continues, shifting to another clip, another clip, and yet another clip, all of them showing the exact same thing in different times and different places: him farting in his fucking sleep.
it's a fucking compilation of all the years suna's known him. some of them are even from his time at msby—how the hell did he get his hands on those?
“i have eyes everywhere,” suna'd once told him back in high school. “i'm like big brother. so it'd be in your best interest not to piss me off when you're famous.”
“well, shit," atsumu mutters to himself, scrolling through the endless line of notifications, each of them accompanied by emojis and amusing comments. "suna's just committed social murder."
he racks his brain for something that could've set him off, when his mind immediately flashes back to his conversation with you.
"there's no way..."
"rin, you really didn't have to do him like that," you say between chuckles, absolutely no force in your words. "public relations is gonna die trying to fix his image."
suna nuzzles further into your neck, his phone long-forgotten in the bedsheets. "that fucker deserves it," he responds sleepily, leaving a line of kisses along your collarbone. "i told him not to fuck with me."
"yeah, but," you gently scratch his scalp and he lets out a happy noise, "you got some good sex out of it. so—"
"—not just good sexy, baby. really good sex. like amazing sex."
"so shouldn't you be thanking him?"
suna opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again, the gears shifting in his head. "i mean, i guess."
you snort, rolling your eyes. "gosh, rintarou. you're so immature."
your phone rings and you reach to pick it up, raising an eyebrow when you see atsumu's calling. you flip the phone so that suna sees it.
"speak of the devil," he jokes.
"what the fuck am i supposed to say?" you hiss, glaring at your boyfriend, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. "this is your fau—" suna suddenly taps on the green answer button. "—hey atsumu! good morning!"
"don't 'hey atsumu' me. did you tell him?"
"tell... who what?"
you hear him slap his forehead through the phone. "i can't believe you told him. i told you not to tell him!"
snickering, you make crackling noises with your mouth. "uh, i think you're breaking up—"
"—don't you dare—"
"—can't hear you, bye!"
you disconnect the call with a laugh and put your phone on do not disturb as suna wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.
"you're a menace, you know that?"
"mhm," he hums.
"they should kick you off of twitter like they did to trump."
"okay."
"you're a stain on the fabric of society."
"are you done?"
"...yeah."
"okay," he whispers. "let's go back to bed then."
“okay."
"love you."
you smile. "love you too, rintarou."
if you enjoyed, reblogs + comments are appreciated!
a/n: this is officially my longest work (wack) as well as my piece for @undersero‘s trope trove collab! the trope i started with was fake dating, but (inevitably) i also weaved in mutual pining and idiots in love and of course the trusty there’s-only-one-bed. i loved writing this and i hope you love reading it!
fake dating has its perks.
nobara no longer nags you to go to her wild girls nights that end up with her making out with some hot stranger and you awkwardly trying to pry her off of them. men on the street stop hitting on you when they see the hand wrapped in yours. your parents phase out of signing you up for online dating accounts, forcing you to sift through an endless stream of emails from people that swear that they're 'the one'. on your end, there's only net benefits.
the same goes for itadori. he doesn't have to pester fushiguro to try out new restaurants—he can just drag you along instead. gojou-sensei doesn't try and set him up with the girls that give him their numbers. and he's really looking forward to that valentine's day discount that his favorite bakery has for couples.
so yeah. net benefits for everyone.
but, by far, the best part of fake dating is getting first dibs on room choice during your friend group's annual summer vacation.
it started when you all were eighteen and fresh out of high school, desperate to use your newfound freedom for something fun, and most importantly, far from home. the couple rule came about during the second vacation, when everyone chose rooms next to each other. nobara brought her girlfriend at the time and, well, no one really got much sleep for that weekend.
the consensus was simple: never again.
now, if you decide to bring someone you're romantically involved with on the trip, you book your room first. and then everyone else books their rooms on the opposite side of the hotel, wishing the best to the unsuspecting families of four and solo travelers that are unlucky enough to sleep near you.
it's a strict rule. it doesn't matter if you swear you'll be quiet or if you promise not to... bone. if you're a couple, everyone is turning in the other direction.
and so, four years later, nobara's wrapped up in picking a room at this fancy, beachside hotel for you and itadori. it's mostly out of spite that you tell her to pick a suite, embellished with a large lounge area, a jacuzzi in the spacious bathroom, and walk-out balcony that's overlooking the ocean, forcing everyone else to settle for booking the smaller, albeit cheaper, rooms that are farther from the shore.
it's going to be a fun weekend. before you were dating, well, fake dating, you and itadori were friends that shared the same sense of humor and same hedonistic demeanor. and you'd been crushing on him for ages, but that's not the point. you can ignore the close proximity and the way your feelings are slowly but surely eating you alive for a couple days, right?
you wish you could say you were positive that you could handle it.
one thing's for sure, though: with this awesome room to come back to every night, well, it's definitely going to be a fun weekend.
itadori whistles as you push open the double doors to the room, lugging his suitcase behind him.
"this is... really nice."
you're speechless, met with what you think heaven is: floor-to-ceiling windows present the entire landscape of the beach, letting the room almost glow with natural light. there's a white couch in front of a gigantic television, and in between the two is an intricate coffee table. it's what's on the table, though, that catches your eye.
a large basket filled with what you assume to be goodies and snacks is smack-dab in the middle. curious, you plop down onto the couch to examine it, as itadori shuffles in behind you.
"'welcome to the honeymoon suite,'" you read from the card sticking out from the top, placing it on the side. you do a double-take. "wait, what?"
"uh," you hear itadori's muffled voice from another room, presumably the bedroom. "are you sure this is right room?"
you huff, getting to your feet and following the sound of his voice. you walk through a doorway to find him staring down at a very large and very comfortable-looking bed covered in... rose petals?
you barely stifle a chuckle, covering your mouth. itadori glances at you, pink dusting his cheeks, a similarly amused expression on his face.
"this has got to be a mistake," you snort.
he wiggles his eyebrows. "unless you were trying to subtly tell me something, which, if you were, is definitely working."
you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your face warms. moving around the room, you crouch and study the nighstand. pulling open the drawer, you come face-to-face with a very hefty box of condoms with cheeky note saying 'use protection ;)' attached to it.
itadori jumps as you slam the drawer shut.
"you good?"
"oh yeah," you say through a strained smile. "this day just keeps getting better and better."
after an hour of excruciatingly awkward packing—awkward because you know that itadori definitely saw the condoms and just decided not to say anything—you decide to meet your friends.
nobara has a wicked expression on her face as you approach her, and you get the inkling that maybe your room placement wasn't actually a mistake.
"nobara," you hiss, noting how her smile seems to grow wider as you look out of the corner of your eye to make sure itadori isn't near, "what exactly did you do?"
"walk with me," she tells you, pointedly refusing to answer your question. you consider staying put until she gives you an explanation, but she wraps an arm around your shoulder and forces you to move with her.
"you know," she says after a moment. "fushiguro told me something interesting."
"oh," you say, rapidly losing your patience. "and what was that?"
"that you and itadori aren't actually dating."
you still, your blood turning to ice. there's no way he'd tell fushiguro... right?
as if she can read your thoughts, nobara laughs. "itadori didn't tell him," she snickers. "you guys are just too stupid and too easy to figure out."
"does he know that you know?"
nobara makes an ugly noise that sounds like it was meant to be a laugh. "as if! itadori's even more of an airhead than you are."
you ignore the dig, trying to uncover the motivation behind this... this scheme.
"so you made our reservation... that room.... as revenge?"
her brown eyes glint in the sunlight. "now, would your dearest friend do such a thing for petty revenge?"
you don't even let a beat pass before responding with a clipped "yes, that's exactly what i think you'd do."
she scoffs, playing with a strand of her hair. "i'm trying to help you! you've been pining over itadori for forever!"
"shut—" whipping your head around, you see itadori talking animatedly to fushiguro, who has a bored expression on his face. he silently mouthes to you 'save me' and you stick your tongue out. he deserves to get his ear talked off, especially after ratting you out. turning back, satisfied that itadori's out of earshot, you continue. "—up."
"i'm right, though!"
"that doesn't mean you have to do something about it," you mutter. "i'll tell him eventually."
she turns to you with a cocked eyebrow. "when?"
"someday," you say sheepishly, nudging the ground with your foot. "maybe in the next decade."
"see? this is why i'm giving you a boost."
"by booking the honeymoon suite for us? could you be any more obvious?"
"trust me, i could write 'you both like each other' on my forehead, and neither of you would get the hint."
"hey!" you lightly punch her in the arm, before realizing what she just said. "wait, what do you mean us 'both'—"
she's already scurrying away towards your friends, waving a hand and rushing you over. you groan, dragging a hand down your face.
it's going to be a fun weekend, you remind yourself. even though my boyfriend is fake and my friends are plotting against me. it's definitely going to be a fun weekend.
if the first issue with the honeymoon suite was that, well, it's for honeymooners and therefore designed with a sexual subtext, the second is the lack of a second bed.
it's a dilemma that doesn't come to you until long after the first day is done, and everyone's heading back to their rooms slightly tipsy and extremely exhausted. it didn't occur to you back when you were packing because you were a bit too bewildered from seeing the condoms, and you assume that the same thing happened to itadori, because he didn't mention anything either. so as you say goodnight to your friends and ignore the wagging fingers, jokes of 'don't disturb the people around you', and nobara's knowing smile, you stop dead in your tracks.
itadori cocks his head in question, lazily rubbing at his tired eyes in a way that's so unfairly cute.
you groan softly. "there's only one bed."
his eyes widen in realization as you fumble for the key, the door unlocking with a beep. the two of you enter the room, gentle tendrils of moonlight reflecting off of the water and through the windows. even at night it looks beautiful.
"i can take the couch."
you look at him in a way that says 'you can't be serious'. "that couch is as stiff as cardboard. you're not sleeping on it."
"well, then neither are you," he retorts.
"fine."
it'll be okay, you try to convince yourself as you head into the bathroom first after itadori's insistence, pajamas in hand. we're two adults. we can share a bed without it being weird.
you enter the bathroom and see just how... expansive it is. there's not a lot of walls, or privacy for that matter, but it makes sense since the whole layout was designed for a couple that probably doesn't want that much distance between them anyway. you are surprised, though, to see two different shower stalls separated by a wall. peeking your head into the stall closest to you, you see that the wall is, in fact, a full length mirror, the reflective surface stretching to the ceiling and spreading until it hits the back wall. you admire yourself for a few moments before realizing that you can both shower at once.
it's been a long day. he probably wants to wash up as soon as he can and sleep, you reason. and we might as well take advantage of this huge-ass bathroom.
"yo, itadori!"
you hear the shuffle of clothing and the push of a door as he comes into the bathroom.
"yeah?"
"there's two showers," you say, nodding towards them. "we can shower at once and then pass the fuck out."
he sidesteps you, seeing that there's a mirror between the two showers.
"gotcha," he replies, a little breathless. "i'll go... grab my clothes then."
"and i'll be," you jerk your thumb towards the stall, "...in there." you finish awkwardly.
god, why am i such a wreck?
the tips of itadori's ears burn red as he remembers what exactly you'll be doing... in there. rubbing soap along your body, maybe cupping your tits, letting your hands trace down those thighs of yours...
he blinks and you're already heading into the stall, the frosted glass door closing behind you.
god, get your shit together, he pleads to himself. don't fuck things up.
within a few minutes, itadori's gathered his clothes on one of the very conveniently-placed counters and opening the door to his stall. he takes a second to steady his breathing, feeling the cloudy steam from your side circulate through his lungs, while trying his absolute best to not to think about you. in the shower next to him.
naked.
he groans, smacking his forehead. worst case scenario, he can just take a very, very cold shower. or he can take care of his soon-to-be problem in the shower. one of the two. both options are fine.
stepping into the shower, he examines his surroundings. it's not any more than he expected, and as he rotates in place, seeing one wall of tile, another wall of tile, and yet another wall of tile, he thinks that this isn't too bad of a place to jerk off. worst case scenario, of course.
and then he turns to the fourth wall, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
because while your side has a mirror, his doesn't. it's just glass.
it's just glass and he can fucking see you on the other side.
he quickly averts his eyes, turning around and trying to pretend that your bare figure isn't seared into his brain and that his dick isn't hardening against his thigh.
it's a fucking two-way mirror.
he simultaneously wants to worship and curse whoever designed this room because what the fuck. and as much as he'd theoretically enjoy the view, which he shouldn't because it's not like you knew that it wasn't an actual mirror, it's also a reminder of everything he can't have: you, right there in front of him, stripped and lathering iridescent bubbles all across your skin, compelling him to watch like some kind of pervert.
god, you're killing him. he wants you so bad.
and it's at that moment, when his back is turned towards you, that the flowery scent of the body wash and the sight of sweat dripping down itadori's abs and the fucking aura of sex in the entire hotel room gets to you, and your hand trails lower and lower down your abdomen until it's brushing against your clit. the arousal hits you like a truck, and before you can stop yourself, your mind is flashing with all kinds of erotic scenarios of itadori bouncing you on his cock, him stuffing his face into your cunt, him pounding you mercilessly from the back.
if you squint, you swear you can imagine him watching you from the other side of the mirror, a lazy hand stroking up and down his cock, an toothy smile on his face. it's enough to make you let out a little noise of want, but you immediately stifle it with a hand clamped over your mouth.
was i too loud?
for a moment, there's nothing you can hear but the insistent white noise of running water, so you believe that you're in the clear.
on the other side of the mirror, itadori's jaw is clenched, a vein popping in his forehead. you have the nerve, the audacity, to be so close yet so fucking far. it's as if you know the effect you have on him, the way all the blood is rushing from his head to somewhere... less decent.
it takes everything in him not to groan at the sound of you moaning—it's faint, almost washed away by the rush of water, but he hears it all the same.
against every moral he has, his head snaps to look at you, hand immediately coming to wrap around his cock at the sight: you, leaning against the far wall, legs slightly spread and fingers teasing your entrance, head thrown back and wet hair plastered along the sides of your face.
this is so fucking unfair, he thinks to himself, the grip of his hand moving against his will to stroke up and down. you're so fucking unfair.
you get a little bolder, the lust clouding your mind and muffling the alarm bells that are telling you not to masturbate when your crush is mere feet away. your finger brushes against your clit and you shudder, the first suggestion of relief striking like electricity through your veins. you indulge in it like you can't get enough, fingers trailing lower to dip into your entrance, and you don't stop until you're three knuckles deep and your palm slaps against your clit.
"oh, god," you say breathily, head thumping against the cold tile of the wall behind you. "fuck, i—"
itadori's movements get more frantic, his hand meeting his base of his chest so harshly that it's a wonder you can't hear the slap! of skin on skin. the heat in his veins is searing—he feels like he'll burn up if he doesn't get this debauched energy out of his body. and you're right there, droplets of water condensing on your eyelashes, rivulets of it tracing paths down your body that he wants to follow with his hands, with his tongue...
"fuck," he hisses under his breath. "fuck, fuck, fuck."
your thighs clench around your wrist, the fat squishing and making everything feel so much better, and you let out a choked whimper.
"want you so bad," you whisper to your daydreams, imagining that the puffs of warm air against your flesh are phantom touches of itadori. "yuuji, i–i just—"
itadori's abs clench as he rolls his hips into his fist, thrusting into it, wishing it was your greedy pussy sucking him back in every time he goes to pull out.
"fuck, 'm gonna cum. ah, fuck—"
you fingers curl and hit that spongy spot inside you and you keen, knees going weak as your hand scrambles to stabilize yourself against the wall. you reach your peak, mind going blank as you cum hard.
"yuuji!"
his eyes snap open because he swears that that's my fucking name, she just moaned something that sounded like my fucking name—and truthfully, he couldn’t care less if it really was his name or not, it’s enough for him to indulge himself—and then he spills into his hand, sinking his teeth into his fist to stop himself from giving himself away.
the feeling of your orgasm hits you so hard that everything fades to black behind your eyelids—you're not even grounded enough to hear the strangled groan that comes from the other side of the mirror.
the two of you gasp for breath, backs resting uncomfortably against the chilling cold of your respective showers. your head reels as you realize what the fuck you just did and how fucking stupid it just was. it did feel good to get off to all your filthy little daydreams, though. the sexual tension has been frustrating.
and itadori feels the same way, staring down at the shower drain in shame and... dissatisfaction. now that he's gotten a chance to see you, he just wants to feel you.
fuck, he wants it so bad that it’s consuming him.
you turn off the water first, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself clean before quickly stepping out and wearing your pajamas. you slink out of the bathroom, heart pounding, and slide under the bedsheets. itadori follows soon after, and you try not to make it apparent that you just masturbated to the thought of him.
so naturally, you're trying to devour him with your eyes, wishing that you had x-ray vision and could see what was underneath those plaid pants and gray t-shirt of his.
he sneaks in bed beside you, putting so much distance between you that he's almost hanging off of the mattress.
"itadori," you snort. "it's okay. you don't have to be so far."
he flushes. "i just don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"it's fine. it's not like... anything is gonna happen," you stammer. nothing will happen, but god, you wish it would.
"right."
he shifts onto his side, an arm tucked under his head. you lay on your back, looking up at the ceiling, trying your best to ignore how his eyes are boring holes into your face. you glance over and he quickly averts his eyes, failing to play off the fact that he was staring. you reach over to turn off the lights, smiling freely in the dark.
"goodnight," you murmur sleepily, body sinking into the sheets.
itadori waits until your breathing evens next to him, wishing he could memorize the delicate way the moonlight traces your features. once he's sure you're asleep, he leans over just the slightest, gently pressing his lips against your forehead. you stir lightly, smiling in your dream.
"goodnight."
“how do you have the energy for this?” you grumble as nobara insistently pulls you along behind her. “i’m pooped.”
“we’re already more than halfway through this vacation! i gotta make sure that we make every minute count and,” she looks pointedly back at you and fushiguro over your shoulder, “that our resident lazy bums get off their asses and enjoy for once!”
“this lazy bum is tired and she wants to go home,” you groan.
“the other lazy bum concurs,” fushiguro deadpans.
“aw, come on guys!” itadori breezes past you, saddling up to the back of the line. “it’ll be fun! besides, we haven’t gone dancing in ages.”
your eyes rake up his frame, catching on the top of his loose shirt with a couple of buttons undone exposing just enough tanned skin to leave your mouth watering. you meet his eyes and quickly look away.
“i guess so,” you mumble, feeling awfully warm despite the cool temperature. “the last time we went was really fun.”
itadori smiles in triumph, before looking down to search for his id in his wallet. nobara takes his moment of distraction as a chance to whisper in your ear.
“you’re so whipped,” she giggles.
you nudge her in the side. “shut up.”
the place that nobara found was nice, a little hole-in-the-wall place recommended by a local, but bustling nonetheless. fairy lights are strung across the roof, making the ambiance glow with excitement. the bassy beat of the music from inside mixes in with the crash of the waves mere feet away, and you can’t help but tap your feet.
it has been ages since you’ve danced. even if you don’t want to admit it, you’ve been itching to let loose.
the bouncer spares your group a glance before examining your ids, and you’re whisked inside. if waiting in line was exhilarating, it’s nothing like actually stepping foot in the place. light bounces along the walls, painting them in splashes of color. there’s a paneled dancefloor in the middle framed by various tables and a bar where other patrons are mingling and sipping drinks. as vibrant as it seems, it’s cozy, and your frazzled nerves give way to a tingling anticipation.
nobara drags you over to one side of the room to grab a table, while the boys end up hovering by the bar to order some drinks. you try to search for itadori, but he’s already lost somewhere in the crowd.
within a few minutes, nobara’s got you swaying to some song on the dancefloor, the first drops of the drink you had sizzling in your veins and making your body burn with energy. you can’t help but let your hips move side to side and your hands teasingly roam your body, the addictiveness of the song guiding your limbs.
you’d always felt at least a little uncomfortable in social situations such as these, but tonight, everything just feels so right. the buzz has shaved off all of your inhibitions, and you feel like you could do anything.
you feel like you could tell him.
the thought strikes you like lightning, and before you can consider it for too long, nobara’s lacing your fingers with hers and twirling you around, making you giggle.
"aren't you gonna dance?"
itadori snaps out of his trance, dragging his gaze from where you're doing some kind of tango with nobara, the lights on the ceiling illuminating your smiling face, to an unimpressed fushiguro.
he considers laughing, because frankly that's his go-to reaction when he's caught not paying attention to something that someone has said to him, but he takes too long, mouth moving but not forming words as he looks blankly at his friend, and the moment is gone. if he laughed now, it would just be weird. so, he chooses the next most eloquent thing to do.
"huh?"
"with your girlfriend," fushiguro elaborates, figuring that itadori's just being an airhead. "aren't you gonna dance with her?"
itadori squints at him, suddenly feeling like he's the butt of a joke.
"my..." girlfriend? since when has he had a… "oh!" his focus shoots back to you. "yeah. my girlfriend."
fushiguro's eyebrow twitches, the way it always does when he starts getting irritated. he silently wonders how you and itadori expected to convince anyone with this relationship of yours when you barely remember it exists yourselves.
"yeah," he says curtly, quickly losing his patience. being a wingman is harder than he thought. "aren't you gonna go dance with her?"
"oh. yeah."
itadori gets to his feet, pausing for just a second while trying to ignore fushiguro's eyes burning holes into him as he wipes his palms on his shorts. he shoves his hands into his pockets before making his way across the dance floor to you. his fingers twitch in his pockets—probably from nerves—making the fabric ripple.
“can i steal her from you?”
nobara whips her head up, smile widening as she realizes that it’s itadori. she not-so-subtly pushes you into his arms, patting him on the back as she heads over to fushiguro.
“she’s all yours.”
itadori nods weakly, turning back to you with his lower lips tucked between his teeth, suddenly all too aware of the curve of your hips under his hands and your expectant stare burning into his. he almost keels over as your arms come up to rest on his shoulders, bringing your faces closer to each other. the tension is palpable, and he can’t help but glance down at your lips, looking so soft, so plump, so kissable—
“let’s dance,” you say breathily, the air of your words making goosebumps spread across itadori’s skin.
because he can barely think straight with the way you’re looking at him, can barely breathe at the sight of you in front of him, he can only nod eagerly.
he lets you take the lead as you rock your bodies to the thump of the song through the stereo, watching hungrily at the flesh of your neck as your roll your head. you pry his hands off of your waist before turning around and pressing your back to his chest, bringing them over your stomach.
itadori does his best to stifle a groan as you grind your ass onto him, relishing in the dull pleasure that builds in his core. a small sound escapes your lips, and you dare to grind on him a little more, and this time, he doesn’t bother trying to stay silent. a low and rumbly noise floats into your ear, and you smile sultrily. he feels like he could drown in the waves of confidence radiating off of you—you’re sucking him in like a siren, and all he can do is try not to lose his breath.
at your clear interest, he gets grabbier, hands drifting up to brush against your tits, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, before falling back down to squeeze the sides of your thighs. you shudder at his touch, leaning your head back onto him and pulling him in.
it’s like your tipsy haze is contagious, because he can feel his thoughts clouding, the sweat beading like dew on his forehead. he can practically taste the alcohol on his tongue, the way it would sit sweetly on his tastebuds if you swapped saliva, if he craned his neck just the slightest, if he—
“i want to kiss you so badly,” he murmurs, mouth moving before his brain.
you blink up at him, eyes wide, and he wants to kick himself for being so forward and so real when, of course, this whole arrangement is fake, but his worries fade when you reach for his shirt collar and yank him towards you.
“then do it.”
and then he really does taste the tang of beer or vodka or whatever the hell it is that you’d drank, the flavor subdued by the gloss on your lips, but if you ask him, he’d say that makes it all the better. he parts his lips because he wants more, more, more, and you take the invitation, deepening the kiss with drunken fervor. his hands guide you until you’ve turned around again and you’re chest to chest, bodies pressed against each other as if there’s still too much distance between you.
you drink in his breaths like they’re your own, your hearts beating in sync, the dim reminder that you’re kissing your crush blaring somewhere in the deep recesses of your hazy mind. you want even more of itadori, you want everything he’s willing to give to you—which only he knows is everything you could possibly want—and you want it now, your hands growing more insistent, your noises more needy, your breath more hitched—
“yeesh, get a room, wouldya?”
you jerk away at the sound of fushiguro’s voice as he drifts past you, face contorted in mock disgust but eyes crinkled in amusement.
nobara follows close behind him, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she wiggles her eyebrows. “might as well get some use out of that honeymoon suite, eh?”
you scoff, flipping her off as she weaves in and out of people.
“i mean, we can,” itadori says, a pink flush evident on his cheeks. you snap your head back towards him. “’get a room’, um, if you want to.”
if i want to? you almost grab itadori’s shoulders and shake him silly because of course you want to! you’ve been thinking about this exact moment for god-knows how long now! he’s so fucking stupid and you like him so much!
“definitely.” you grab his hand and maneuver yourselves through the mass of people that surround you, nearly sighing in relief when you finally spot the exit.
itadori simply lets you do as you wish, too busy looking at the back of your figure with a slack-jawed expression because you’re going to have sex with him.
you, the girl of his dreams for forever, is going to have sex with him. he’s glad that you pull him into the moonlit darkness of outside when you do, because he has an embarrassing hard-on in his pants just at the thought of you touching him.
you really don’t know the effect you have on him. you can do the slightest of things and he’ll be put in a trance.
he doesn’t even care if this is fake, if this is just you wanting to get some horny energy out of your system. he’s willing to take you in any capacity he can get, even if his feelings aren’t reciprocated.
net benefits for everyone, he supposes.
the two of you barely make it to the room—you’re a mess of lips and tongue and teeth on the elevator ride up, and his shirt has a few more buttons undone than he did at the beginning of the night by the time you get to the door. he frantically gets the keycard out of his pocket, pushing the door before it even unlocks, and you stumble inside, almost falling on top of him.
“god, you’re so—” you hum, trailing soft kisses along his neck. “i want you so bad, yuuji.”
he groans. “you sound so pretty sayin’ my name like that, fuck.”
somehow, you find yourselves on the bed, clothes half-off as you desperately pant into each other’s mouths, hands roaming unabashed across the planes and curves of each others’ bodies.
“off.” you tug at itadori’s shorts, his shirt already long gone, strewn across the floor somewhere. “off, come on.”
he shuffles out of them, not wanting to break the kiss you’ve pulled him into. the atmosphere is hot and sticky, and you swear that the scent of sex is already in the air.
“your turn,” he huffs, peeling the hem of your dress higher and higher up your stomach. “lemme see that gorgeous body, baby, please.”
you raise your arms and he shimmies the fabric off of you, throwing it to the side before immediately groping any flesh he can. his hands tremble in pleasure as you let your weight settle on him as you straddle his lap, your clothed pussy rubbing directly against the bulge in his boxers.
“ah, f-fuck,” you whisper against his lips, fingers intertwining around his neck as you bury your face in his collarbone, the pressure against your clit making you embarrassingly wet. you subconsciously drag your hips in an effort to get more friction, and itadori groans brokenly into your ear.
“d-don’t do that,” he whines. “feels good, too good.”
you unclasp your hands from their place on his neck, letting them run down itadori’s muscled chest, feeling the contortions of his abs under you. your fingers dip under the elastic of his underwear and he grabs your wrist, looking up at you, eyes piercing in the dark.
“are you sure?”
i’ve been sure about this forever, you want to say, but you settle for a breathy “yes.”
you slip the waistband down and his cock slaps his stomach, thick and pretty, drooling a bead of pre-cum that you want to taste on your tongue.
your mouth drops open. “shit,” you breathe. even the thought of him stretching you out with his girth is making your hole clench helplessly in anticipation.
“we don’t have to,” itadori insists at your hesitation, rubbing circles into the plush of your thigh with his thumb. “seriously, we don’t—”
“—prep me,” you huff in desperation. you guide his hand towards the apex of your thighs, manipulating it until the pads of his fingers are massaging the wet spot on your panties. the oxygen catches in your lungs as your eyelids flutter shut—it feels so good already. just from a couple swipes of his fingers, you’re curling in on yourself.
his eyebrows furrow in hesitation and you almost cry out. “are you—”
“please, yuuji, please. i fucking, i—fuck—i need it so fucking bad, i need you so fucking bad, just—”
you swallow your words as he drags the honeyed gusset of your panties to the side and sheathes two of his fingers inside you, the gushing wetness of your pussy making the intrusion not only bearable, but pleasurable.
his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his fingers up, a small groan of your name flowing from his mouth. “you’re taking them so well,” he half-whispers in awe. his gaze trails back up to your dewy face, greedily drinking in your dazed expression. “you’re just perfect, aren’t you?”
he scissors you open, whispering sweet nothings at every hushed moan of yours. you can’t help but dig your nails into his shoulders, his forearms, the sheets—anything you can reach, really—as he prods the spongy spot inside you.
he adds a third finger and your eyes roll back, the coil in your belly winding tight as he thrusts in and out.
“yu—yuuji,” you whine, gasping for breath. “i think ‘m gonna—gonna c-cum soon.”
a low sound reverberates from his throat as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to cum on the spot. “do it, baby,” he practically growls, clenching his jaw. “cum on my fingers and then i’ll make y-you cum on my cock.”
“promise?” your voice is high-pitched and cracks as he plunges his fingers impossibly deeper.
his head falls forward and he sucks on one of your tits to muffle the moan that’s ripped from his throat. “promise.”
that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, thighs clamping down around itadori’s wrist as you keen, every muscle in your body burning in euphoria.
“fuck, i’m—yuuji, fuck, yuuji—”
“that’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, lips pressed against the soft flesh of your breast and slowly creeping up the column of your neck. “y’look so beautiful like this, yeah? cumming on my fingers all pretty. y’look like an angel,” he babbles, mesmerized by the blissful look on your face and the way your body relaxes in his grasp. “like an angel from heaven. you’re gorgeous, baby, so—”
you shut him up by pulling him into a fiery kiss, drunk on the way he’s making you feel but hungry for so much more. your fingers thread through the damp strands of hair at the nape of his neck, other hand coming down between your bodies to wrap around his cock and leisurely stroke from tip to base, making him whimper into your mouth.
“d’you wanna fuck me?” you slur, breaking the kiss just enough to get the words out. “‘cause i want you to fuck me, i wanna feel you inside me—”
“—god, baby,” he gasps. “i need it, fuck, please. please lemme fuck you, i gotta—”
you wedge your feet underneath you and lift yourself, ignoring the burn in your knees, carefully lining up his cock with your cunt. the tip pushes in just the slightest, and itadori sighs shakily, hands gripping your hips with restrained strength.
you slowly sink down, trying to keep your breathing steady as the fat head enters you with a squelchy pop! his shaft fills you whole—every rub of a vein along your inner walls makes your nerves tingle in ecstasy—and your pussy throbs against your will.
“you’re so damn tight,” he musters, voice tight, like he’s pained. his chest heaves as he palms your tits, doing anything to distract himself from the soft sensation of you around him. “how’re you so fucking tight and wet and perfect?”
he gives a short thrust of his hips upwards and you moan, stars dancing in your vision. you all but collapse onto him, weakly holding onto his shoulders, as he jerks up again, hands roaming down your back before settling on the plump flesh of your ass.
you let him handle your body as you drop down on his cock the best you can, the sounds of skin-on-skin increasing in volume as bounce your hips to slide down his length while he pounds into you from below. the only words that either of you can manage are jumbled versions of each others' names and hushed curses, punctuated by the occasional sloppy kiss that leaves you both breathless.
itadori tucks his lower lip in with his teeth as he watches his cock move in and out of you. it's shimmering in a layer of your arousal, a ring of white settled at the base from your past orgasm. every time he bottoms out, there's the slick sound of wetness, and it sends heat through his veins whenever he hears it. the scene is so pornographic and hot that it makes his cock throb inside you.
he stares at you in reverence, his movements slowing as you continue bouncing up and down at your will, small hums and moans spilling from your permanently parted lips. your grip on his shoulders tightens as you move faster, chasing the orgasm building in your stomach in a sex-induced daze.
"baby, baby," itadori whispers, beginning to thumb at your clit, making you moan out loud. "look at you, using me so well. god, use my cock, baby. it's yours, s'all yours."
you keen as the added pressure on your clit is so good that it's borderline overwhelming. your pace falters as the muscles in your abdomen twist, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable.
"god, you're amazin'," you sob, resting your forehead against his. you cradle his cheek with your palm, almost shocking yourself at the raw tenderness of the action. you wonder if he can sense your true affections through that one touch. "i want you, i need you, forever, yuuji. for—fuck—forever, please."
"'m all yours," he replies, voice soft. "i swear it, i'm all yours." he turns his head and kisses the inside of your hand, his lips delicate against the skin. "always was and always will be, baby."
he wonders if you can sense his true affections through that one sentence.
he draws another circle on your clit and you clench hard, spiraling into another plane of pleasure. itadori moans lowly, cursing under his breath.
"so close," you gasp. "'m so—"
"—me t-too, fuck. fuck," he breathes, "'m gonna—where should i cum, fuck—baby, you gotta tell me where, 'm g-gonna—"
"—inside," you beg, eyes glossing over. "please cum inside, fill me up, yuuji, please, baby—"
"fuck."
he groans deep and low as he cums, the warmth spreading across your insides, forcing you to cum as well. you go over together, your thighs trembling over the coiled muscles of his as the air escapes your lungs. your chests move together as you inhale, the aftershocks of your orgasms rippling throughout your bodies.
exhaustion, both from the sex and the dancing, slams into you with full-force, and you sway forward. itadori braces you, shifting out of the way to lay you down on the bed.
"woah there," he starts, holding your head until it's on the pillow. "don't move, i'll get you cleaned up."
you make a garbled sound of affirmation and nuzzle into the sheets as itadori makes his way to the bathroom.
you fall asleep to the soft strokes of a wet cloth against your sensitive pussy, a gentle hand pushing your hair out of your face, and a delicate—so delicate that you're sure you're dreaming it—peck on your forehead.
you wake up surprisingly not hungover—your brain is completely lucid. you remember everything—his hands, his cock, his lips, and most importantly, his words. maybe you're just looking too far into it, but you're almost certain that your feelings aren't unrequited, if your subconscious has anything to say about it.
the first thing you notice is that the blankets next you are rumpled, leaving a person-shaped portion of sheets showing. still groggy, you sit up and pull on a sweatshirts, shivering slightly at the coolness of the room. you slip on a pair of flip flops and quietly walk to the lounge area of the room, the early rays of sunrise starting to shine through the glass.
it must be really early, judging by the tinges of pastel pink and purple in the clouds, and you consider going back to bed, sure that itadori's just off on a run or something, when you see his slippers on the floor by the couch.
your eyes trail to the glass again—one of the glass doors is slightly askew, and a set of footsteps begins from just on the other side of it, on the sand. you track it with your eyes, locking on a small figure sitting idly on the shore.
gathering your encourage, you kick off your flip flops and follow the same path, the grains of chilled sand digging into the crevices of your toes. it's still relatively cold, and you're glad you threw on a sweatshirt as a salty ocean breeze makes goosebumps spread across your legs.
silently, you approach itadori, crouching down next to him before taking a seat.
"hey."
he seems a little startled, too busy focusing on something in the horizon to realize that you were there, but he relaxes immediately when he sees that it's you.
"hey. how'd you sleep?"
heat rushes to your cheeks despite the temperature. "like a baby. thanks, um, for cleaning me and everything. you didn't have to."
it's his turn to blush, and it creeps up his cheekbones before he turns his face back towards the sea. "of course. it was nothing."
you sit quietly for a bit, the crashing of the waves and the cawing of seagulls doing enough to not make the moment awkward. to anybody else, it'd just look like a couple enjoying the morning with each other.
"listen, i—" you start.
"can i say something?" itadori asks at the same time.
you both pause, eyes wide as you look at each other expectantly.
you clear your throat. "you first."
itadori takes a deep breath before slowly releasing it. "i know that this," he waves his hand between the two of you, "thing, this relationship, was supposed to be fake and have net benefits and everything but i don't think that i can keep doing this."
he swallows, still avoiding eye contact, before continuing.
"it's not your fault or anything. it's just that, i mean," he buries his head in his hands, groaning. "i'm not making any sense. i'm just gonna straight up tell you that—"
"—i like you," you blurt.
he raises his head, looking at you speechlessly. his mouth moves without making noise and he narrows his eyes. "you... what?"
"yeah," you say a little quickly. "for a while now. since before we started like fake dating or whatever. actually," you chuckle sheepishly, looking anywhere but him, "i asked you if you wanted to, y'know, fake date or whatever because i wanted to spend time with you. that's it. i mean the sex was awesome," oh my god bitch, shut the fuck up, you think, "but that's not, like, why i wanted to do this... whole thing. so yeah," you end weakly.
"okay." you cringe at his reaction. he presses the heels of his palms to his eyes before speaking again. "okay, wait. okay. you like me?"
"mhm."
"for a while?"
"yeah."
"like you like-like me?"
"yes," you say exasperatedly. "i like-like you."
he pulls his knees in and rests his chin on them, a small pout on his lips. "but i like-like you."
you were expecting it, but it still takes you by surprise. "you do?"
"well obviously!"
"it wasn't obvious at all!"
he scoffs. "why else did you think i agreed to this fake dating thing?"
"oh."
"yeah."
"so we like each other?"
"i guess." he turns completely towards you, the realization suddenly hitting him. "we like each other."
you can't stop the smile that stretches your lips. "okay. cool."
he smiles too, a bright beam that makes you feel even warmer than the sunrise peeking over the ocean before you. "yeah, cool."
"so do you wanna date? like real date?"
"yeah," he breathes, leaning closer. "i'd like that."
he glances down at your lips quickly, but not quick enough for you to not notice. you effortlessly close the distance, sweetly pressing your lips to his.
"we're idiots," you say, when you pull back.
"maybe," he acquiesces, dropping his head on your shoulder. "but it's okay. we can be each others' idiots."
you comfortably lapse into silence, watching orange rays dance along the waves before greeting you with a new day.
"i think that this warrants a 'thank you'," nobara quips from the passenger seat, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of her coffee. she points between you and itadori, who's currently laid in your lap, dozing off. "you know. this."
"you set me up, literally," you say through gritted teeth, voice hushed as to not wake your boyfriend—you can't see yourself getting used to saying that anytime soon.
"and it worked out! no harm, no foul."
you think it over for a second, gaze softening as itadori squirms. you run your fingers gently through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. "thank you."
"never mind," she fake retches. "i already regret this."
you laugh, wanting to torture her more. "what do you think a better nickname is, nobara? pookiebear or honeybear?"
"please stop talking to me."
"hm, maybe honey-pookiebear?"
she punches fushiguro in the arm, who gives her a dirty look.
"don't hit me, i'm driving."
she makes an offended noise. "doesn't their lovey-dovey-ness get to you?"
"i usually tune them both out, so this isn't any different."
"hey!" you protest. "fuck you! honey-pookiebear and i are very hurt right now!"
nobara tugs insistently at his sleeve. "please teach me how to tune them out," she begs. "i'll do anything."
the car runs over a pothole, making the entire vehicle shake. itadori awakens with a grumble, rotating his body until he's looking up at you.
"hi baby," he mumbles.
"fushiguro,” she says more urgently. “i'll pay you if i have to," nobara hisses.
"hi," you reply, bending down to kiss him on the nose. "do you like pookiebear or honeybear better?"
his sleepy expression morphs to confusion, because neither of you like stupid nicknames, but you gesture to nobara and he nods in understanding, smiling mischievously.
"how about honey-pookiebear?"
nobara groans dramatically, this time accompanied by a poorly-disguised eyeroll from fushiguro. "you guys are perfect for each other," she snarks. "you’re both gross and irritating."
"it's your fault they're together," fushiguro points out.
she slumps in her seat, trying her best to look angry but only appearing satisfied. she brings her coffee cup to her lips to hide her smile. "whatever."
if you enjoyed, reblogs + comments are appreciated!
event request…….dacryphilia + praise w Kyoutani please? more soft kyou representation is needed, tired of him only getting written as a mean dom aaksjshs like let the king of my heart breathe let him be sweet on his baby 🗣 😩
LOVESICK | KYOUTANI KENTAROU X F!READER
part of my a whole lotta lewd event! [ details | masterlist | CLOSED ]
a/n: WAHH H I LOVE HIM FADHJKDSDFSHADFHIADSI sorry this is SO soft like SO SOFT but I LOVE HIM OILFKHDAGSFJKGHAFDSIHKLSAKL MAD DOG WHO’S JUST A LOVESTRUCK PUPPY LITERALLY JUST SHOOT ME IN THE FUCKING HEART FUCK
“you’re so pretty like this, you know that?”
a calloused thumb comes to wipe at the tears escaping your eyes and trailing down your face, bringing black smudges of mascara along with them. kyoutani gently strokes your cheek and you lean into the touch, sniffling at the overwhelming feeling of his fat cock filling you up. blinking the blurriness out of your vision, you gaze up at him with wide eyes, a pair of warm brown ones, filled with adoration, staring down at you.
“you think i’m pretty?”
his lip quirks up. “‘course i do,” he murmurs, slowly rocking his hips into you, biting his lip when your eyelids flutter shut at the pressure. “prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. you’re even pretty when you cry,” he huffs. “it’s so unfair.”
your laugh breathily, a cute sound that makes his heart pound in his chest. his hand finds its way under your chin, tilting your head up just the slightest and prompting him to lean down and kiss you. he tastes the subtle fruit flavor of your chapstick and the saltiness of your tears, mind buzzing with the feeling of you all over.
he loves you so much that it hurts.
it almost pains him when he pulls away, frowning at the sight of your plump lips pursed in a pout as he sits back on his haunches in search for a better angle. he knows that he finds it when you gasp, his cock suddenly thrusting directly against the spot that makes you gush.
“m’god kentarou,” you whimper, clutching onto his biceps as your back arches. “oh, it feels so good.”
“i know, baby,” he mutters, massaging the flesh of your breasts with his deft fingers, gently pinching your nipples and relishing in your little whimpers. he groans when you peer at him with glossy eyes, silvery droplets tracing a path from the corners of your eyes, gravity pulling them to the sheets. “so beautiful for me, honey. making me feel so amazing with this perfect body of yours.”
you sob lightly as his finger traces down your stomach to play with your clit, fleeting touches making you jerk up in search of more stimulation.
"i think 'm gonna cum," you mumble, cradling his face with your hands and craning your neck to kiss him. "can i?"
kyoutani smiles into the kiss before trailing his lips lower, along your neck and collarbone. he nods and you sigh in happiness, letting your worries dissolve into nothing as your muscles tighten and breathing grows erratic.
you clench around his cock, nails biting into the skin on his shoulders, and he groans, rapidly circling your clit. you moan, throwing your head back, and he wants to have this image of you ingrained in his brain forever.
"that's a good girl," he whispers, letting you ride out your high. "there you go, such a good girl."
"i love you," you hiccup, a fresh wave of tears flowing down you cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure that’s making your thighs squeeze his waist. "i love you so much, kentarou."
he shushes you, playfully brushing away your tears and making you squirm. "i know," he hums into your chest. "i love you too."
if you enjoyed, reblogs + comments are appreciated!
a/n: all of this kenma brainrot is seriously making me consider continuing voyeurant and i hate you all for it
“shit, k-kenma, wait—”
you’ve just orgasmed, hard, your pussy tightening and gushing all over kenma’s skilled fingers, but he just won’t stop. you’re writhing, thighs trembling in a futile effort to shut around his wrist, because he’d predicted how your body would react—that’s the reason there’s a spreader bar clamped between you ankles.
he’s not even looking at you, feline eyes instead focused on his phone screen, which mirrors exactly what he’s doing: three of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your spent hole, slick with your cum, an embarrassing squelchy noise ringing out every time his palm smacks against your glistening clit. what he’s filming is erotic—he’s considered throwing his phone to the side and using his now-free hand to rub on his aching cock—but he needs this video. when it comes down to it, he knows that he’s going to need these few minutes of your voice begging him to stop and your body betraying you, especially since he’s leaving home in a couple of days for some stupid convention.
“kenma, please—fuck—i can’t cum anymore. i can’t, i can’t i—”
he expertly curls his fingers upward, stroking against that soft spot inside you that has your pussy clenching down, and you cry out. you’re completely overwhelmed—having absolutely no control over your body while your boyfriend pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you will do that—and you can barely think.
“i know you can,” he mutters, voice strained. god, he wishes he could just fuck you, but he can’t. he needs this. “c’mon, baby. give me another one.”
“oh, fuck!” he curls his fingers again and you throw your head back, hands shaking as they grasp the sheets as best they can. “oh, it feels weird, f-fuck, it feels so good but weird, fuck—”
he moves his arm faster, his veins bulging gloriously along the inside of his forearm, his long fingers reaching further than yours ever can.
“i think i’m gonna—” your eyebrows scrunch up as a rush of pleasure starts building up, but it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. its coming from—inside? you don’t know what to think of it, but kenma’s wrist bends and then you don’t know what to think at all.
“c’mon, c’mon,” he chants under his breath, praying that the movement of his hand isn’t throwing off the footage. “you look so hot like this, baby, c’mon, cum for me. please—shit—please cum for me.”
it hits you all at once, a searing white pleasure that zaps through your veins and out your pussy. you’re vaguely aware of a stream of wetness that splashes against kenma’s arm, the pounding of your heart drowning out the use of all of your sentence.
“holy fucking shit,” he murmurs, eyes wide. you peer up at him, confusion written in your features. “you squirted.”
you cover your face with your arm, mumbling a small noise of humiliation, but he quickly pries it off of you, dropping the phone to the side.
“no, no, no, baby, that was so fucking hot. fuck, i’m so hard right now. that was so hot—” he pauses for a moment, smiling slightly as he makes a show of checking his phone. “—but i don’t think i pressed record.”
“you’re kidding,” you scoff, once you've found your breath.
“nope,” he says, popping the p. he waves the camera again, before returning it to his hand. his fingers drag along the sensitive flesh of your pussy and you realize that he might need this more than you thought.
“think you can do it again for me?”
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“it’s too big,” you whine, eyes glossy as you gaze up at ushijima, his large frame hovering above you, his eyes focused intently between your legs. your thighs are drenched in your own slick, cunt pulsing from the two orgasms you’ve already experienced—all prep to finally get him to sink inside you. he’s dragging his cock through your folds; you peer down to glance at it, and it’s huge, his size intimidating and fully capable of breaking you in half. you hesitantly put a trembling hand on his bicep, digging your nails in slightly to draw his eyes up to yours, “it’s not gonna—”
“it’ll fit,” he says, eyebrows furrowing as his hand wraps around his cock, lining it up with your drooling hole. “it’ll fit.”
your legs kick out involuntarily as his tip pushes past the first tight ring of your cunt, the burn making your muscles twitch and eyes roll back into your head. it’s so intense—it’s everywhere: you can feel him in your throat and he’s not even halfway there—and his calloused palms grip the back of your thighs, pushing your knees higher up your stomach, giving him a better view of the way you're so lewdly being stretched to fit him. “it won’t,” you cry. “you’re just too big!”
“yes it will,” he insists with a grunt. he pushes in slowly, simultaneously pressing your legs higher and higher until you’re basically folded in half. all you can manage is pitiful whines and choked whimpers, having something so filling—so big—inside you is absolutely intoxicating. his cock is driving every thought out of your brain until you’re just a pussy to get fucked, and god it feels good.
ushijima groans lowly as he thrusts in further, the soft and wet muscle of your cunt hugging his cock, enveloping it in an addicting heat that sends shivers up his spine. you’re so damn tight—he’s in awe of how you’re even accommodating him—and even as he leans his hips back a little to get a better angle, your hole just won’t let him go. it’s sucking him in like you need it, which you might as well at this point, and he can’t believe an angel like you has had heaven tucked between your thighs this whole time.
“oh my god,” you slur, desperately grasping at the sheets below you. “oh my g-god.”
and then his thumb finds its way to rub small circles over your clit and you squeeze, your body clamping down on him like a vice. ushijima’s so shocked at how you somehow feel even better than you did before, letting out a raspy “fuck” as he throws his head back.
you’re gonna kill him if you get any tighter, but that’s all you can do—every vein and ridge of his cock is fitting perfectly inside you. with a sharp intake of breath, you’re cumming, spiraling into an uncontrollable orgasm that shakes you with the force of it. your cunt is pulsing sporadically, it almost pushes ushi’s cock out entirely, and it’s so overwhelming: your body’s impulse wants him out but the fragmented remnants of your brain want him in—it’s obvious with the way your heels lock together behind his back to keep him in place. the contrast is staggering and it makes him dizzy how you want his cock, him, inside you so badly.
you slightly relax after your orgasm, giving him the opportunity to push in a little more, and his balls slap against your ass. your surprised gazes meet each other—he bottomed out—and you can’t help but laugh, mind giddy with the pleasure of your peak and the blissful way that he fills you whole.
“told you,” ushijima pants, a drop of sweat trailing down his temple. his hair is plastered to his forehead, face shiny with exertion, and you think he’s never looked more handsome—not in a suit, not on the court, never as beautiful as he is now. a smug smile is on his lips and he looks at you hungrily, licking his lips.
“told you it’d fit.”
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watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan
there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.
warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial
w/c: 3.1k
a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!
in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?
he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.
[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?
[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??
iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?
[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.
[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question
[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?
[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda
[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this
[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it
[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata
iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?
[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...
[06:45 AM] hinata: YES
[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question
[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto
[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this
[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too
[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up
[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum
he chuckled in disbelief.
[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum
[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??
[06:47 AM] miya: NO
[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM
[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO
[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think
he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.
[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable
[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen
[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^
[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it
[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too
[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out
[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb
[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.
[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out
[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least
iwaizumi sighed.
[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman
to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.
you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.
“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.
“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”
you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”
at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”
after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”
“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”
“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”
“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”
you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”
and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.
practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere.
you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.
“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”
he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”
he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”
you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched.
you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.
there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.
"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.”
his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”
hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.
“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements.
“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.”
he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”
he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”
he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”
“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”
“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.
“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”
“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”
“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.
iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”
they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.
"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.
“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”
“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.
“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”
they nodded simultaneously.
“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”
suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”
hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”
iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”
his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”
“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.
“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”
you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”
your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.
a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.
“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix.
“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”
“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.
“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.
“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.”
their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs.
“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”
“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”
“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”
“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”
he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.
your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.
“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.
“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”
“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.
iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”
you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”
iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.
your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”
you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.
he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist.
he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”
a/n: IT’S NO PROBLEM BABE, DW ABOUT IT!!!! and your request is just,,,, so hot. was literally nutting while writing this.
the low buzz of the egg vibrator that's resting at the bottom of suna's shaft has long since faded into white noise. so has the sound of the vibrating plug that's been nestled into his cute ass, the silicone end of it just barely peeking out of his tight hole.
suna's resting against the headboard with his chest heaving, sweat beading along his abs as you continually make him chase a release that you both know isn't coming anytime soon.
his hands are clasped behind his back, wrists tied together with a silk tie to ensure that he doesn't touch himself. his legs are bent at the knee and spread, giving you a perfect view of his dripping cock and twitching ass as you sit before him, a controller in each hand.
you fiddle with the knob on one of them and he whimpers, voice hoarse with being used so much but loud all the same.
"god i—i can't fucking—baby i can't do this anymore, please, i can't, ah fuck—"
"five more minutes," you insist, shifting your weight on your knees to relieve some of the ache in your clit.
you drop the remotes onto the bed in front of you and reach a hand forward, letting your palm roll over his leaking tip, so flushed that it looks painful.
suna recoils immediately, desperately trying to shrink away from your touch as you rotate your wrist, making sure to run a finger along his sensitive slit. he jerks, arms straining hard against the restraints, and throws his head back as you wrap your fingers around him.
"i need to cum, fuck ple-ease—"
his voice cracks and you look up at his face, surprised to see pearly tears streaming down his pink cheeks. he's gnawing at his lip, giving you pleading eyes that'd break anyone—his green irises are diluted with unshed tears, his watery gaze praying that you'll give him permission to cum.
"not yet."you blindly reach for a controller and push a button—it's the plug's—and he wails, blabbering mindless nonsense as the toy massages his prostate.
"oh god," he cries, body shaking. "it's too much—fuck, it's too much—i can't take it anymore."
he inhales sharply as your hand begins moving up and down his cock.
"i gotta cum, please—baby, fuck, please lemme cum, i gotta cum, i gotta cum so bad—"
you quiet him with a kiss, one that he desperately moans into. he whines when you pull away, but he quickly forgets about it as you mess with the other remote.
the vibrations along his cock get stronger and he shudders, singing out high-pitched mewls.
"no more," he begs, voice fragile. "no more, no more, i have to cum, i need to cum, fuck, i need it, baby—please please, i fucking need it, i need it so bad—"
"you can take it," you purr, pressing the vibrator more directly against his shaft. he sobs, struggling uselessly, the muscles flexing uncontrollably as his hips jump.
"h-how much longer? i can't—i gotta—"
you smile sadistically, fully aware that five minutes have passed.
"five more minutes."
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