feel good - sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader
sakusa tells you he's never had a blowjob before so you decide to make him feel good.
18+ NSFW CONTENT
That reaction was expected; Kiyoomi had already practiced, and rehearsed his explanation in his head countless times as to why he’s never made a girl cum before and always refused blowjobs.
“You’ve never made a girl finish?” You watch as he shrugs his shoulders, mumbling something about it not being a big deal, and leans forward to grab another beer, cracking it open easily and downs it, hoping to get drunk enough to not remember this conversation in the morning.
“Kiyoomi! Don’t just drink your problems away!” He dodges your hand reaching for his beer can, swatting you away casually.
“I’m not doing that.” He takes another swig, and you scoff, moving back to your spot on the couch.
“And you’ve never had a blowjob? Why?”
“It’s not that big of a deal. Just don’t see the appeal of it.”
“Appeal of what? Pleasure? You know it feels good, right?”
He gives you a sidelong glance, finishing up the rest of his drink then tossing the can onto the table. You slide up a little closer, your knee brushing against his thigh. “You don’t wanna feel good, Omi?”
Kiyoomi hates the way you say his name, the way you give it a little kick that runs straight to his cock. He hates the way you look up at him as you ask if he wants to feel good.
“Personal space.” His thigh, built from years of training, muscle firm and thick, knudges against your knee with enough force to push you back, giving him back the pleasant space between you both.
It doesn’t help much, though, as the scent of your perfume and shampoo still lingers.
“ Omi, please. I want to make you feel good. I want your first ever blowjob—”
Sakusa sighs, rubbing an agitated hand across his forehead. “Don’t call it that.”
“That’s what it is!” You flap your arms in the air. “What should I call it instead? Sucky fucky? Mouth to dick resuscitation? Dick in—”
One second you were running your mouth, the next your mouth was occupied with his tongue, licking into you with such fervor. Your eyes squeeze shut when you come to the realisation that this is real, this is happening.
His warm, calloused hands hold a tight grip on your face as you shift forward, reclosing the space between you both. You topple on top of him when he roughly grabs your hips, tugging you on top of him.
“W—wait, wait—” You hold your breath for a second when he parts away from you, watching the line of spit trailing from your mouth to his snap.
“What?” He sounds breathless, irritated, hands tugging at the zipper on your shorts, eager to rip it off your body now that he’s in the mood.
It’s weird seeing him like this. Kiyoomi is a classified neat freak, always smoothening the creases on his shirt, never liking things out of place, angrily wiping the spit off his face when Atsumu sprays it, rather than saying it.
“Why won’t this come off?” You giggle at his impatience, grabbing his wrists and relishing in the confused look on his face as you manevour yourself atop of him.
“ I wanted to make you feel good. Remember?” Your voice sounds sweet, syrupy, beside his ear, slowly trailing your lips down the side of his cheek. “You gonna let me?”
His adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, sucking in a long, winded inhale as his eyes dart over your face, testing his patience, his resilience when you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.
“Hurry up. Before I change my mind.”
You roll your eyes playfully, reaching inside to pull his cock out. It was thick in your hand, long and flushed from base to tip. The sparkle in your eyes at his go-to sends a tingle coursing through him, the shimmy of your hips as you tug his shorts down. “Gonna make you feel so good, Omi.”
“Stop talking.” He exhales at the feeling of your tongue tracing shapes onto the outline of his cock, evident and thick through his boxers. Sakusa watches you with hooded eyes, shoulders tensing when you fist at his cock, dragging your hand up slowly, then back down.
You shift a little closer, resting your thumb on the top of his shaft, cautiously bracing your hands along his thigh, wetting your lips with your tongue.
When your lips were slick with spit, you inch forward, engulfing the tip of his cock into your hot mouth. He groans unexpectedly, not expecting the sudden warmth to surround his cock.
“Oh fuck —” It shouldn’t turn you on this much hearing him so breathless when you haven’t even done anything yet. Mouth full of cock, unable to speak, you hide your retort on your tongue, sliding your tongue languidly down his shaft.
He throws his head back, giving you a delicious view of his throat, saliva pooling in your mouth with the urge to bite at it. After a couple moments of staring at the sweat sliding from his jaw, you tap at his thigh to grab his attention. “Keep your eyes on me, Omi.”
Your words are muffled, and watered down by the amount of saliva in your mouth, pulling away to let it fall onto the tip before sucking it back into your mouth.
He’s struggling to focus on anything but the feeling of your mouth teasing gently at his cock, and internally thanks you for bringing this topic up because damn, he was missing out. He understands now; understands why whenever Atsumu meets a pretty girl with nice lips— his words, not Kiyoomi’s— he’s taking her upstairs for some fun.
The sight of you makes his cock twitch, accompanied by the moan you let out once you feel it. It’s getting messier, his heavy breathing is getting louder. Saliva pooling from your mouth drips down, and he’s catching it using the tip of his thumb, his mind a nest of fog and haze as he tries to focus on the warm suction of your mouth.
His hips jerk forward and you choke, your tight throat convulsing around his tip, and he would feel bad at how the sound of you choking turned him on more, had him wanting to tangle his fingers in your hair and push you down to slip himself further inside your tight throat. He would feel bad about that, if it wasn’t for your body rising, hips shimmying from side to side as you brace your hands on his hips for leverage, taking his cock deeper in your mouth.
He’s so thick inside you, your jaw aches, and your eyes are pooling with tears, but you’re desperate to hear that noise once more, that choked off moan he let out when he let his guard down.
He watches with focused eyes as the tears gather at the corner of your eyes, watches the way they threaten to fall as you suck a little harder at his cock.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He can’t help himself, and you freeze when you hear it, giving your jaw a temporary lunch break, flicking your eyes up to him. The sight of him is gorgeous; his lips are parted slightly, broad chest expanding and deflating as he struggles to catch his breath.
The only time you’ve seen him this breathless is after a long day of practice.
You forget where you are and what you’re doing, mouth vibrating around his cock as you try to call him pretty too. He groans, a low sound that sends a tingle straight down to your legs, fighting back the urge to touch yourself.
He watches as you swallow him back down, as you peek up at him through your lashes, as you hold the heated eye contact for a moment before closing your eyes, focusing on pushing him closer to his peak.
He wants to be louder, wants you to let him know how good you feel, how warm your mouth is, but it’s like he’s tongue tied, only making subtle grunts when he slips too far down your throat.
You moan around his cock, back arching in a way that he can see the long slope of your body, hands tingling with the urge to fuck you into the couch.
There’s a ticklish feeling down by his balls and he jerks his eyes away from your body, down to your hands. You tug gently, rolling them between your soft fingertips.
“Fuc—fuck—” He stutters out, hips thrusting forward one time more, burying himself in the heat of your mouth, hot cum spilling out beyond his control.
Your cheeks hollow as you suck the rest of his cum from his tip, humming to lure the rest out. His hands tangle in your hair and he’s pulling you off his cock with a gasp.
Your hands fly to your throat, massaging it from the outside to ease the burn, and he watches, breathlessly panting, as you compose yourself.
“So—” You cough, and he notices how hoarse your voice is. “Feel good?”
He could lie; could keep his ego and watch you frown and attempt to suck him off again because you’re you, and you never back down from a challenge.
When he’s silent, the frown on your lips play anyway, and as you inch forward, he shifts back, until you’re on top of him, caging him in with your arms beside his head.
He meets you halfway when you lean down, capturing your lips together in a heated kiss. He can taste himself on your tongue and despite how disgusting that makes him feel, the twitch of his cock tells a different story. He’s licking into your mouth, eager to drive the taste of him away, now desperate to taste you.
With a push, your back hits the couch gently, and you bite at your lip as he flips the position, caging you in this time. You smile up at him, hands sliding along the length of his arms to tangle behind his neck. “You never answered my question, Omi.”
“Shut up.” Your grin grows, inching upwards to kiss him, your lips brushing his cheek as he looks down to your shorts, unzipping them all the way before sliding them off. You gasp as he tugs you forward, bending down so his lips brush yours. “Lemme make you feel good.”
