OH' SALVATORE! ⟢ there's no need for divine love anymore.
informant ushijima, hereby welcomes you to the art museum of the decrepit and incredibly thirsty! owner chloe (19) wishes you a warm greeting. ♡ USHIWAKA'S FAV THROAT, GOJO'S DRIVER AND KATSU’S BRAT ?
THUS THE DIRECTORY, IF UNAWARE. IF MINOR, OFF THE PREMISES ‣ advance to the gallery for art showcases, and as always, you must follow the rules of the museum.
✴︎ “i bet gojo satoru’s light rod is bigger than zeus’!”
you had a chance to seek whether the strongest sorcerer was packing a huge punch, and boy, did you find out for yourself.
when satoru sports those clinging gray sweatpants, it’s left to your imagination on just how annoyingly big it is, heavily swaying as he struts like his pride and ego are stuffed in his third leg. yanking his pants is like a profound method of newton’s cradle, it sends a meaty, stiff thud! to his abdomen and swings like it conserves momentum. especially when he’s rock hard, god forbid it should be rendered useless.
your jaw will ache, and you will gag over a shallow bob when you suck his thick cock. you’d have to position yourself over that behemoth, tip too broad to take the edge as his pre rubs deep in your clit. “toru, s’too big... i can't—'
“slowly, princess.” he’ll have to talk you through it, tightly gripping your ass for support. and when you finally, finally push enough just to part past your lips, a lecherous ‘o’ easily wipes your face and you heave the heaviest exhale. “oooh fuck, there we go.” satoru’s cock stretches you wide with ease, and it’s just his tip. he thrusts just enough to pop his mushroom tip in and out your puffy folds with the wettest smacks. after all, big cocks come with big loads.
once you lower yourself against half his length, the sheer size subjugates every nerve, and your walls flutter and clench like a vice around the large, almost oversized intrusion. satoru's breaths came ragged, sweat beading on his brow. “shit, you're so tight... gonna cum just from this.” inch by agonizing inch, your inner mounds quiver from the pressure. it felt like being split apart, dragging against every ridge inside you, filling you so completely that your breath hitched in short gasps.
he bucked up gently, just enough to bury another few inches, and it's as if you’re being nicely impaled to your limit, and you love it. the fullness makes your toes curl, you braced your hands on his chest, nails scraping over his muscles as you acclimate to his fat cock; over a foot of throbbing meat buried to the hilt, head pressing (stabbing) deep against your cervix, bulging your lower belly slightly from the inside.
and when satoru starts to thrust, he nearly rearranges your insides. “just like that… atta girl.” when you finally adjust, satoru makes sure his unyielding monster makes good use of your hole. milk him while his cock swells deep inside you, penetrating spots you didn’t even know existed until the squelches were too sinful to hear.
each slam! that met your thighs were abhorrently loud, each time his cock stuffs your channel, the pressure coils tight in your belly because you truly feel all of him, every inch. “t-toru, please! i’m so close—” the thickness of it all filled you to the brim, and when you’re crashing an orgasm, so does satoru, and god, does he release lots of it.
thick ropes of hot cum that spurt out of your folds, pulse after pulse. flooding your depths, watching most of his kids trickle from your seal— but he’s not quite done with you yet.
after what seems like multiple rounds, you’re fucked out and sprawled on his bedsheets, mascara bled tears stream down your face, and you’re trembling. trembling for fucks sake. operation: get obliterated by the strongest sorcerer’s huge cock? imminent success.
it’s disgracefully scalding out. the only thing that’s keeping you from losing cool is the explosive hunk in front of your eyes. fanning himself in an all white wife-beater, trying to beat the sun in all its glory.
what else could make the two of you even sweatier under all this heat?
godspeed—that the glass sliding door is wide open, birds are chirping, and sunlight casts reflections on the wooden creaks. godspeed—that bakugo is splitting you apart with his cock right on the floor of his apartment, moans tangling among the seams of nature’s sounds.
the head catches on your slick folds with every instant he pulls in, out, in, out. “fuck— y’feel so warm, sweets..” he pounces into you harder, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. nothing can beat the stimulus that keeps coursing into your body with every ram of his cock. the sun’s intense, sweat slicks making every move more slippery than intended.
everything’s wet; the rivulets of lather feel overstimulating in the best way possible, and bakugo’s nearly yelling at how good your pussymounds were swallowing him so nicely. “k-kats.. s’too much–!” you’re scrabbling his back with scratches, the heat amplifies everything, the sounds of skin slapping skin, the way your sweat drips into your face, the snarls escaping his lips as he fucks you like an animal.
“quit whining already,” he grunts, ravaging your walls with his cock. each piston of his slams releases a dirty slop! as your pussy clenches every inch. he cards back his damp hair to ease the hot air as he shifts, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder to angle deeper into your clit.
the sun's rays bake your joined forms, turning the sweat into some sort of glossy sheen that makes his muscles flex as his grip tightens. “such a fuckin’ mess, keep taking my cock like a good girl, yeah?” your back bows off the floor as he stretches you wide, his girth pressing against every sensitive inch inside. you can’t remember the number of times you’ve came.
right, you really don’t. you’re being fucked dumb under the fucking sun, rawdogging with no fan to cool, on the fucking wooden floorboards. sweat pooling. naked. endless pants fill the sweltering air, and you can swear you feel another orgasm crashing in your entire body.
bakugo katsuki says fuck the cooler. he’s going to fuck the shit out of you until the sun sets.
SYNOPSIS ⸝⸝⸝ when the bottle ends up between you and atsumu, suna enforces a change of rules where seven minutes in heaven must be done in a toilet stall.
TAGS ⸝⸝⸝ oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, quickie, dirty talk, praise, degradation, extreme sexual tension, both suna and atsumu are menaces, very messy sex, slight voyeurism, creampie
CHLO'S NOTE ⸝⸝⸝ suna is kinda ooc i just knowww he dgaf
WORD COUNT ⸝⸝⸝ 4.2k
Seven minutes in heaven should be renamed seven minutes in hell.
At first it was spin the bottle, the game barely broke a sweat, lackluster dares and no-show truths that just ruled to free alcohol shots. A few drubbing losses ended up with a punishment of seven minutes in heaven; any established couple that surrounded the circle easily had their feat and the game swung by with deliberate ease, much to the rest’s dismay.
“This is getting boringgg.” A drunk Aran slurs, shoving his fist up in the air. “More dareesss!” Everyone conjoined in raucous laughter and assented in suit of the idea. You could beg to differ, it wasn’t as absurd as any of the frat parties you’ve ever partaken in but it wasn’t anything short of boring either.
Suna, however, had different plans in mind; although he wasn’t the shit-starter, he was undoubtedly the stirrer through it all. Which is ultimately why when the barren soju bottle defies gravity and lands between you and Atsumu Miya, he stoops to depths opposite of what the game implies.
The first non-couple to be matched for the night leads to a roar of oohs and oh’s to fill the room, and Suna succeeds at a chance of making things more dire than it should be.
Both you and Atsumu had almost hooked up once, almost. From what you could think back to, it was the aftermath of a late-night party that had panned out with both your lips smashing against each other like animals. Though cut short from Kita being the cockblocker he is.
Ever since then, there's been nothing but unrelenting silence and strain between the two of you. More so, itching words being left unspoken, still at the tip of your tongues. Atsumu had fought tooth and nail to speak to you privately, but nothing ever worked to his plea. Just brief glances and light conversation, but it had never gone past that for a while.
So that stillness shatters once you’re both face to face, playing in the hands of an alcohol bottle and Suna Rintarou’s enormity.
It can't be that bad, right?
“Atsumu, Y/N, truth or dare?” Suna’s tone grips a beat higher when he asks the question, almost like he's excited that there's some sort of intent to it. “If one person can’t answer a question, both of you have to do the punishment together anyway.”
That’s totally great, either way— you were fucked. You just had to hope Atsumu was smart enough to handle his friend’s shenanigans, even though in most ways, he was definitely worse in terms of attitude. The world was not working in your favor.
The blonde twin gives you a stare before Suna ultimately gives a countdown to his previous question. Three, two, one;
“Truth.”
It’s almost in unison, the way both of you speak the word into existence with an awful amount of sternum. Suna scoffs and decides to attack Atsumu first, and you can only imagine the most jarring question possible.
“So, Tsumu,” He gives a long pause before he decides to ask, like adding suspension would do anything. “Have you and Y/N ever fucked?”
As right as you were, he still never fails to baffle you. There's no change in Atsumu’s face nor does anyone in the circle seem too pushy about it; he directly answers without a second thought, almost as if this was something he’d thought about multiple times. “Nah,”
“Wish we had though.”
The rest of the circle resumed their rustling and cheers at Atsumu’s reply, and some people were nudging your shoulder. Suna nods to his words, amused by the additional line, and right before you know it, his serpent pupils immediately look straight into yours.
“Do you like Atsumu, Y/N?”
Ah.
You had no idea how to answer this without a certain consequence. A part of you liked him, for sure. Though you can’t affirm a yes or no, it probably veered to a maybe? You didn’t know.
It was a simple question from a simpleton like Suna.
But why the fuck were you not answering?
Atsumu is staring at you intensely, as if waiting for a given answer of some kind. Everyone's deferring for your retort in hopes of a reciprocal or maybe harsh rejection pertaining to Atsumu, anything that could get their day going as if it mattered to them.
Suna, being the asshole he is, raises the stakes and coerces you down with a count. And even then, you still had no answer. Sometimes you wonder, why do you put yourself in these situations? “Aww, no answer. Guess you’re going to have to deal with each other now, huh?”
Atsumu notices the look on your face; of course, he notices. The moment you’d failed to answer Suna’s question, his gaze whetted, as if attempting to read every bit of your lips that twitched, or how your eyes narrowed. Suna is basking in the silence, clapping his hands together to declare the punishment, which you had totally forgotten about minutes after being inundated with a stupid question.
You feel the weight of Atsumu’s stare, and you can’t tell if he’s upset or if he’s ready to show you otherwise. Knowing him, it’s very possibly the latter.
“Well, unfortunately so,” Suna delightfully says, drawing out each word like a taunt, “it’s going to be seven minutes in heaven. With a twist, of course.” The circle erupted with grunts and cheers that bounced off the walls, the whole room rippling with racket at Suna’s theatrics.
“Instead of the closet,” he savors, he really likes prolonging his sentences. “It’s gotta be in a toilet. Handicap, regular stall, it’s up to you guys.” You could’ve strangled him with your bare hands. A toilet? God, if Sakusa or Kita were here, you’d rather let their presence make Suna second-guess his drunk antics. You’d rather hear a stupid ramble about hygiene or cleanliness if it weren’t for all of this.
He seems far too pleased with himself.
“Though, personally,” he added, stretching while gesturing at the others, “I vote the men’s stall. It’s smaller and riskier, even dirtier. What do we think?”
You had to hand it to the construction workers—at least your college bathrooms were actually decent. Clean stalls, working locks, barely any smell on a bad day. Small mercies. You couldn’t say the same for the men’s, though. God knows what kind of biohazards lurked in there.
Your friends leapt at the chance; a few said handicapped because it offered privacy, the rest chanting for the stall just for the thrill of it.
And then Atsumu completely cuts through. “I prefer a stall.”
Somehow, the ease in his tone burned worse than if he’d shouted. He leaned back, elbow braced against his knee, posture all easy, though his eyes were anything but. “What do ya think, Y/N?”
And you were supposed to answer, like your pulse wasn’t pounding in your throat so hard it ached.
Seven minutes in heaven, or hell, that night ended up with you and Atsumu in the confines of the men’s toilet stall. You can hear the sounds of muffled laughter and voices bleeding through the tiled walls. Atsumu leaned back against the door, arms braced.
“Why didn’t ya answer Suna’s question?”
You gave him a look, folding your arms. “It’s none of your business.”
He pushed off the door in an instant, closing the already small gap between you. One arm shot up beside your head, caging you in. “None of my business? Pretty sure it is, considerin’ the question was about me.”
Your pulse jumped. You hated the way it crossed you, hated how close he was, how his scent clung to your skin. He smelled just as good as the last time he’d been so all up in your space like this. “You’re reading too much into it.”
That grin of his faltered, his jaw flexing as he tilted his head. “Funny,” he murmured, voice dipping, “’cause I remember a night you didn’t seem so against the idea.”
You knew exactly what night he meant; it’s the same night where the party happened, the dizzy press of his lips on yours, the morsel of alcohol and heat, the way his hands had gripped at your waist like he’d promised to never let go.
“That was different,” you fired back, a little too fast.
“Different how?” His eyes narrowed, gold catching the dim light of the toilet. “Ya wanted me then. Don’t tell me ya don’t now.”
Your chest felt tight. His closeness was suffocating, the warmth of his body is fervent and you feel it radiate, but you still forced the words out. “We’re not doing this. Time is ticking, Miya. Is this all we’re going to do in here? Argue?” You crossed your arms, more to hold yourself together than anything.
He scoffed, and before you could move, his other hand slid down to your hip, fingers curling in. He leaned in so close that his mouth brushed your ear when he spoke.
“Oh, princess. We’re gonna continue where we left off.”
Your body betrays you again, a shudder reverberating through you that only made his grin widen. You tilted your chin up, refusing to let him see you fold. A smirk tugged at your lips. “Bring it on.”
He didn’t need another invitation. His mouth immediately crashed roughly against yours, stealing your breath before you could even gasp. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek as if to hold you in place, while the other dragged you flush against him.
The kiss was messy, all teeth and desperation, like he’d been holding back for months and had finally snapped. You pushed against his chest, meaning to shove him away, but your fists just curled into his shirt, yanking him closer.
“Fuck—” he groaned against your lips, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to make your knees weak. “Knew ya tasted this good.” His thigh nudged between yours, pressing up until your breath stuttered, and his hand on your hip slid lower, his daring fingers brushing the hem of your skirt.
You broke the kiss with a gasp, chest heaving, lips swollen. “We’re in a public bathroom,” you hissed, though your voice jerked with something that wasn’t just indignation. He sneered, lips hovering a whisper from yours. “So? Ain’t stoppin’ ya from kissin’ me back.”
God help you, he was right.
His mouth was everywhere, kissing you like he was trying to make up for all the silence between you. Your back hit the cold stall wall, his body pinning yours there, chest to chest, heat searing so hot it can burn both of your bodies. His hand slid along your waist, fingers digging in like he had to feel every inch of you, while the other tangled in your hair, angling your face so he could devour your mouth deeper.
It was blurring between the lines on how familiar it felt. The same taste of alcohol, the same reckless warmth that seethed through that night months ago. Your head spun with the memory of being pressed against another wall, his lips just as desperate, his hands just as greedy.
He groaned into the kiss, pulling back only enough to rasp against your lips, “God, I fuckin’ missed yer lips, princess.”
The nickname curled heat low in your stomach. Thumb brushing across your bottom lip, swollen from his teeth, like he was admiring his work before claiming your mouth again.
You tried to speak, to get a word in, but his hand trailed lower, skimming the curve of your thigh. He pressed closer, thigh wedging between your clothed clit, and your breath broke against his mouth. His grin told you he’d felt it, too.
How wet you were.
“Ya remember, don’t ya?” he murmured, kissing along your jaw, down the edge of your throat. “Ya tasted just like this. Felt just like this. Drove me fuckin’ crazy stoppin’ halfway.” His teeth scraped your skin, and your knees nearly buckled.
Your hands fisted in his shirt, the cotton stretched tight across his chest, and you hated yourself for how badly you wanted more.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide. “Ain’t stoppin’ this time.”
The promise in his voice sent a shiver straight down your spine. His hand slid daringly to the waistband of your skirt, fingers hooking there, tugging like he was testing how far he could push. The stall creaked with the shift of weight, the sound loud in the quiet hum of distant party noise.
His grin turned slow, wicked. “Ya look so good down here, princess. Bet you’d look even better on your knees.” Your breath seized, heat saturating your face. The words slumped thick in the air, suggestion heavy and deliberate, leaving no doubt where this was headed.
And the worst part? You didn’t want to stop him.
You encounter his gaze, licking your lips slowly. "Is that a challenge, Atsumu? Because you know I never back down from a challenge."
"Prove it then. Show me what that pretty mouth can do."
With a defiant toss of your hair, you drop to your knees before him. Your hands make quick work of his belt that wove his waist, unbuckling it with practiced ease. You drag down his zipper, maintaining raw eye contact.
Atsumu's cock springs free, already hard as a rock. You’re advancing further than the last time, and you wouldn’t have expected to be on your knees two minutes into the game. He’s… thick for sure. Actually, that’d be an understatement from the sheer width of it. It’s heavy in your hands, and he’s already leaking in beads of pre-cum, lots of it.
“Sorry, princess.. Yer really makin’ me look pathetic.” He coos, grabbing your hands to smother it on his length, making him hitch at the sensation. “Gonna help clean up the mess ya made?” He tilts his head, pouting.
“Mmh, shut up.” You roll your eyes, your soft hands engulfing what you can fit, barely cupping the thickness of his cock. It’s wet, and he’s beyond saving. He groans, head falling back against the stall wall, which lands a light thud that slightly echoes across the toilet.
"Wanna–ahh.. put my cock in ya," he rasps, tangling a hand in your hair.
You slowly lean in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock from base to tip. His salty musk floods your senses, making your core clench as the mere hormones that're swelling. You stir your tongue around the tip, teasing the sensitive flesh.
Atsumu swears, fingers tightening in your hair. "Ya gonna tease me all night, or are ya going to suck my dick like ya mean it?"
You flash him a grin before parting your lips and taking him into your mouth. You sink down gradually, relishing the feel of him heavy on your tongue.
Your hand works what you can't fit, pumping in time with your mouth. Atsumu thinks he could die a happy man when he has you between his thighs, slick sounds like music to his ears as you bob your head up and down on his cock; spit collecting in your mouth and streams of saliva steadily around him, even dribbling down to his balls and the way you swirl your tongue over his cockhead has him groaning so loud, his eyes squeeze shut.
His grip on strands of your hair tightens, and you feel a firm push at the back of your head, suddenly feeling your throat close as you feel his tip impel deeper into your trachea. You almost choke at his length, the buck of his hips making you deepthroat every inch of his cock.
You peer up at him through wet lashes, tears collecting in your eyes from the sheer push and pull. He’s fucked over, watching his head thrown back from the mere pleasure of your mouth, the veins in his throat prominent with every loud groan and grunt he lets out for you, his abdomen tightening, both of his hands are pushing your head, causing his bicep to flex, and the sight makes you moan.
Atsumu feels the vibrations around every inch of his thick cock, and he’s propelling your every mouth. You stopped gagging seconds ago, becoming used to his thick cock, or more so, the pleasures just surges over you like a tide. You could devour all of him.
Your mind is completely empty, body going limp as he fucks into your mouth like a pocket pussy, chanting breathy fuck, fuck, fuck’s. It's been three minutes in, and he’s thrusting into your mouth really fast, violating your poor throat.
"That's it. All of it." He starts to fuck your face in earnest, holding your head still as he pumps into your mouth. Tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes from the force of it, but you don't resist. You want this, want to make him lose control.
"Fuck, I could cum down your throat," Atsumu grunts, his rhythm faltering. "But I'm not gonna waste a single drop inside this little mouth. I've got better plans for it." With a sharp tug on your hair, he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, twines of saliva, and precum connecting your lips to his dick. Atsumu uses his grip on your hair to haul you to your feet.
"Turn around," he commands, spinning you to face the stall wall. "Hands on the wall."
In the fourth minute, you had exactly 180 seconds.
Atsumu wastes no time shoving your skirt down to your knees.
He runs a hand over the globes of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh possessively. "Bet yer drippin’ for me already, aren't ya, princess?" To demonstrate his point, he slides a hand between your legs, cupping your sex through your panties. You're right, they're already soaked through. He chuckles at the sight of your imminent arousal.
"Fuckin’ soaked," he murmurs, rubbing your clothed slit. "Ya want my cock that bad, don't ya?"
You press back against his hand, seeking more pressure. "Y-yes," you moan shamelessly. "Please, Tsumu—need you, inside me." He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs. The nippy air of the stall kisses your heated flesh, making you shiver.
"Beg for it," Atsumu demands, slipping a finger between your supple folds to taunt your core. "Beg me to fuck this pretty pussy."
"Tsumu," you whimper, trying to push back onto his finger. "Need you s’bad—please, just– fuck me—"
"That's a good girl," he purrs, adding a second finger and pumping them in and out. "So desperate for it." You're practically vibrating with need at this point, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each thrust of his fingers. He curls them just right to hit that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.
"Fuck—!" you cry out, clutching at the stall wall for support.
"That's it," Atsumu coaxes, scissoring his fingers to stretch you. "Are ya ready, princess?" Just when you think you can't take any more, he withdraws his fingers completely. You make a sound of protest, only to have it cut off by the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
"Brace yerself, m’not gonna hold back—!" Atsumu warns, a groan leaving his lips at the last sentence, a split second before he slams forward into your pussy, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You scream at the sudden invasion, back arching sharply. He doesn't give you any time to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in again.
He puts a palm to your mouth, fingers digging into your waist as it bleeds purple. His breath catches the shell of your ear, and he’s fucking like a jackrabbit; you can feel the curve of him slide your flesh walls, and his thick cock stretches your mounds. “Take it good for me, will ya? Gotta make use of our time, ma.”
The stall fills with the wet sounds of skin smacking against skin and your ecstatic moans of pleasure. Atsumu sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with abandon. Each thrust drives you higher and higher; your pleasure is building to a fever pitch.
"Oh fuck, ya feel so fuckin’ amazing," Atsumu pants behind you, he’s so fast that you’re almost losing balance— feeling all of him so fast, so quick, you’re about to cum. "So fuckin’ wet." You can only moan in response, too lost in sensation to form coherent words. All you can do is take what he's giving you, your body singing with ecstasy.
He reaches around to rub tight circles over your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. "Three minutes to spare," he rumbles, breath hot against your neck. "Look at ya, can’t even speak right." His words send a thrill through you, stoking the fire in your abdomen. You clench around him rhythmically, milking his cock with your greedy walls.
"Come on, baby," Atsumu urges, fingers moving faster over your clit. "Come all over my cock." He can sense that your orgasm was awashing near, feeling your pussy tug at his cock as your supple mounds start to retract.
His command sends you hurtling over the precipice, your orgasm crashing through you. You scream his name as you come undone, his name is muffled through the palms of his hand, pleasure whites hot and blinding.
Though he’s not quite done yet.
He picks up your thigh to ease his pace and structure, thrusting into you faster. “Oh, fuck, fuck—” He’s no longer forming words himself, getting lost in your pussy as he fucks into you senseless. You lose all brain and still rut under the embrace of his cock, continuously ramming into your walls.
You don’t even realize how loud you moan, Atsumu himself is unaware of his own.
“Hey, time's up.”
Suna’s voice breaks through, and it had been past 8 minutes to your knowledge. Though neither you nor Atsumu had cared anymore. You’re still whimpering, the slap of your skins mingling still courses through the tiled walls, and the door rattles, a barrier between Suna and the two of you.
“Give me a few seconds.” Atsumu groans, brutally forcing his thrusts. His tip isn’t just peppering kisses anymore; they’re helplessly bruising your cervix.
But fuck, does he feel like heaven in your clit.
You both are lost in your senses, and Suna is tapping impatiently at his feet. “Enjoying yourselves way too much, man. My ears are boutta go deaf.” Though no reply is given from either of you, both persist in going at it as if Suna didn’t exist on the other side of the door.
“Make it quick, love birds.” You hear the door outside closed shut, and Atsumu’s orgasm is at its peak. You feel him swell inside you, his thrusts growing erratic as he nearly feels his climax wash over him. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, reaching around to rub tight circles over your clit. Your walls clamp down around him, milking his release from his body. “Gonna fill ya full of my cum, princess.”
Atsumu comes with a sharp whimper, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside you. You can feel his hot seed flooding your channel, painting your insides with his essence. He collapses against your back, both of you panting for breath in the aftermath. His softening cock slips out of you slowly, followed by a trickle of his semen.
Atsumu presses a kiss to your sweat-slicked shoulder before stepping back. He tucks himself away and rights his clothing, helping clean your folds afterwards as he smirks down at you.
The stall was quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing, the faint thump of bass from the party bleeding through the walls. Your legs were still shaky, your shirt wrinkled from his grip, and Atsumu hadn’t let go of you once.
He was kissing your face slowly, savoring every second left before someone banged on the door to drag you out. His lips were swollen, his hair a mess, and he tasted something you knew you wouldn’t forget anytime soon. His thumb stroked across your cheekbone, a strangely gentle touch for how rough he’d just been.
“God,” he panted, “Ya have no idea how long I’ve wanted that.” You tried to catch your breath, rolling your eyes half-heartedly, but he caught your chin and kissed you again, lingering; he wasn’t finished yet.
He broke away with a grin, cocky even when he was wrecked. “That was just a taste, princess.” His mouth brushed against yours with every word. “Next time, I’m takin’ my time with ya. Gonna fuck ya proper.”
The promise sent another shudder down your crest. He grimaced at the way your eyes flickered, like he knew exactly what effect he had on you.
The sound of someone laughing outside snapped you both back to reality. He gave one last kiss before straightening up and fixing his shirt with a chuckle. “Guess we better not keep ‘em waitin’.”
He glanced down at you one more time, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry, princess. Seven minutes ain’t enough for me.”
SYNOPSIS ⸝⸝⸝ when the bottle ends up between you and atsumu, suna enforces a change of rules where seven minutes in heaven must be done in a toilet stall.
TAGS ⸝⸝⸝ oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, quickie, dirty talk, praise, degradation, extreme sexual tension, both suna and atsumu are menaces, very messy sex, slight voyeurism, creampie
CHLO'S NOTE ⸝⸝⸝ suna is kinda ooc i just knowww he dgaf
WORD COUNT ⸝⸝⸝ 4.2k
Seven minutes in heaven should be renamed seven minutes in hell.
At first it was spin the bottle, the game barely broke a sweat, lackluster dares and no-show truths that just ruled to free alcohol shots. A few drubbing losses ended up with a punishment of seven minutes in heaven; any established couple that surrounded the circle easily had their feat and the game swung by with deliberate ease, much to the rest’s dismay.
“This is getting boringgg.” A drunk Aran slurs, shoving his fist up in the air. “More dareesss!” Everyone conjoined in raucous laughter and assented in suit of the idea. You could beg to differ, it wasn’t as absurd as any of the frat parties you’ve ever partaken in but it wasn’t anything short of boring either.
Suna, however, had different plans in mind; although he wasn’t the shit-starter, he was undoubtedly the stirrer through it all. Which is ultimately why when the barren soju bottle defies gravity and lands between you and Atsumu Miya, he stoops to depths opposite of what the game implies.
The first non-couple to be matched for the night leads to a roar of oohs and oh’s to fill the room, and Suna succeeds at a chance of making things more dire than it should be.
Both you and Atsumu had almost hooked up once, almost. From what you could think back to, it was the aftermath of a late-night party that had panned out with both your lips smashing against each other like animals. Though cut short from Kita being the cockblocker he is.
Ever since then, there's been nothing but unrelenting silence and strain between the two of you. More so, itching words being left unspoken, still at the tip of your tongues. Atsumu had fought tooth and nail to speak to you privately, but nothing ever worked to his plea. Just brief glances and light conversation, but it had never gone past that for a while.
So that stillness shatters once you’re both face to face, playing in the hands of an alcohol bottle and Suna Rintarou’s enormity.
It can't be that bad, right?
“Atsumu, Y/N, truth or dare?” Suna’s tone grips a beat higher when he asks the question, almost like he's excited that there's some sort of intent to it. “If one person can’t answer a question, both of you have to do the punishment together anyway.”
That’s totally great, either way— you were fucked. You just had to hope Atsumu was smart enough to handle his friend’s shenanigans, even though in most ways, he was definitely worse in terms of attitude. The world was not working in your favor.
The blonde twin gives you a stare before Suna ultimately gives a countdown to his previous question. Three, two, one;
“Truth.”
It’s almost in unison, the way both of you speak the word into existence with an awful amount of sternum. Suna scoffs and decides to attack Atsumu first, and you can only imagine the most jarring question possible.
“So, Tsumu,” He gives a long pause before he decides to ask, like adding suspension would do anything. “Have you and Y/N ever fucked?”
As right as you were, he still never fails to baffle you. There's no change in Atsumu’s face nor does anyone in the circle seem too pushy about it; he directly answers without a second thought, almost as if this was something he’d thought about multiple times. “Nah,”
“Wish we had though.”
The rest of the circle resumed their rustling and cheers at Atsumu’s reply, and some people were nudging your shoulder. Suna nods to his words, amused by the additional line, and right before you know it, his serpent pupils immediately look straight into yours.
“Do you like Atsumu, Y/N?”
Ah.
You had no idea how to answer this without a certain consequence. A part of you liked him, for sure. Though you can’t affirm a yes or no, it probably veered to a maybe? You didn’t know.
It was a simple question from a simpleton like Suna.
But why the fuck were you not answering?
Atsumu is staring at you intensely, as if waiting for a given answer of some kind. Everyone's deferring for your retort in hopes of a reciprocal or maybe harsh rejection pertaining to Atsumu, anything that could get their day going as if it mattered to them.
Suna, being the asshole he is, raises the stakes and coerces you down with a count. And even then, you still had no answer. Sometimes you wonder, why do you put yourself in these situations? “Aww, no answer. Guess you’re going to have to deal with each other now, huh?”
Atsumu notices the look on your face; of course, he notices. The moment you’d failed to answer Suna’s question, his gaze whetted, as if attempting to read every bit of your lips that twitched, or how your eyes narrowed. Suna is basking in the silence, clapping his hands together to declare the punishment, which you had totally forgotten about minutes after being inundated with a stupid question.
You feel the weight of Atsumu’s stare, and you can’t tell if he’s upset or if he’s ready to show you otherwise. Knowing him, it’s very possibly the latter.
“Well, unfortunately so,” Suna delightfully says, drawing out each word like a taunt, “it’s going to be seven minutes in heaven. With a twist, of course.” The circle erupted with grunts and cheers that bounced off the walls, the whole room rippling with racket at Suna’s theatrics.
“Instead of the closet,” he savors, he really likes prolonging his sentences. “It’s gotta be in a toilet. Handicap, regular stall, it’s up to you guys.” You could’ve strangled him with your bare hands. A toilet? God, if Sakusa or Kita were here, you’d rather let their presence make Suna second-guess his drunk antics. You’d rather hear a stupid ramble about hygiene or cleanliness if it weren’t for all of this.
He seems far too pleased with himself.
“Though, personally,” he added, stretching while gesturing at the others, “I vote the men’s stall. It’s smaller and riskier, even dirtier. What do we think?”
You had to hand it to the construction workers—at least your college bathrooms were actually decent. Clean stalls, working locks, barely any smell on a bad day. Small mercies. You couldn’t say the same for the men’s, though. God knows what kind of biohazards lurked in there.
Your friends leapt at the chance; a few said handicapped because it offered privacy, the rest chanting for the stall just for the thrill of it.
And then Atsumu completely cuts through. “I prefer a stall.”
Somehow, the ease in his tone burned worse than if he’d shouted. He leaned back, elbow braced against his knee, posture all easy, though his eyes were anything but. “What do ya think, Y/N?”
And you were supposed to answer, like your pulse wasn’t pounding in your throat so hard it ached.
Seven minutes in heaven, or hell, that night ended up with you and Atsumu in the confines of the men’s toilet stall. You can hear the sounds of muffled laughter and voices bleeding through the tiled walls. Atsumu leaned back against the door, arms braced.
“Why didn’t ya answer Suna’s question?”
You gave him a look, folding your arms. “It’s none of your business.”
He pushed off the door in an instant, closing the already small gap between you. One arm shot up beside your head, caging you in. “None of my business? Pretty sure it is, considerin’ the question was about me.”
Your pulse jumped. You hated the way it crossed you, hated how close he was, how his scent clung to your skin. He smelled just as good as the last time he’d been so all up in your space like this. “You’re reading too much into it.”
That grin of his faltered, his jaw flexing as he tilted his head. “Funny,” he murmured, voice dipping, “’cause I remember a night you didn’t seem so against the idea.”
You knew exactly what night he meant; it’s the same night where the party happened, the dizzy press of his lips on yours, the morsel of alcohol and heat, the way his hands had gripped at your waist like he’d promised to never let go.
“That was different,” you fired back, a little too fast.
“Different how?” His eyes narrowed, gold catching the dim light of the toilet. “Ya wanted me then. Don’t tell me ya don’t now.”
Your chest felt tight. His closeness was suffocating, the warmth of his body is fervent and you feel it radiate, but you still forced the words out. “We’re not doing this. Time is ticking, Miya. Is this all we’re going to do in here? Argue?” You crossed your arms, more to hold yourself together than anything.
He scoffed, and before you could move, his other hand slid down to your hip, fingers curling in. He leaned in so close that his mouth brushed your ear when he spoke.
“Oh, princess. We’re gonna continue where we left off.”
Your body betrays you again, a shudder reverberating through you that only made his grin widen. You tilted your chin up, refusing to let him see you fold. A smirk tugged at your lips. “Bring it on.”
He didn’t need another invitation. His mouth immediately crashed roughly against yours, stealing your breath before you could even gasp. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek as if to hold you in place, while the other dragged you flush against him.
The kiss was messy, all teeth and desperation, like he’d been holding back for months and had finally snapped. You pushed against his chest, meaning to shove him away, but your fists just curled into his shirt, yanking him closer.
“Fuck—” he groaned against your lips, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to make your knees weak. “Knew ya tasted this good.” His thigh nudged between yours, pressing up until your breath stuttered, and his hand on your hip slid lower, his daring fingers brushing the hem of your skirt.
You broke the kiss with a gasp, chest heaving, lips swollen. “We’re in a public bathroom,” you hissed, though your voice jerked with something that wasn’t just indignation. He sneered, lips hovering a whisper from yours. “So? Ain’t stoppin’ ya from kissin’ me back.”
God help you, he was right.
His mouth was everywhere, kissing you like he was trying to make up for all the silence between you. Your back hit the cold stall wall, his body pinning yours there, chest to chest, heat searing so hot it can burn both of your bodies. His hand slid along your waist, fingers digging in like he had to feel every inch of you, while the other tangled in your hair, angling your face so he could devour your mouth deeper.
It was blurring between the lines on how familiar it felt. The same taste of alcohol, the same reckless warmth that seethed through that night months ago. Your head spun with the memory of being pressed against another wall, his lips just as desperate, his hands just as greedy.
He groaned into the kiss, pulling back only enough to rasp against your lips, “God, I fuckin’ missed yer lips, princess.”
The nickname curled heat low in your stomach. Thumb brushing across your bottom lip, swollen from his teeth, like he was admiring his work before claiming your mouth again.
You tried to speak, to get a word in, but his hand trailed lower, skimming the curve of your thigh. He pressed closer, thigh wedging between your clothed clit, and your breath broke against his mouth. His grin told you he’d felt it, too.
How wet you were.
“Ya remember, don’t ya?” he murmured, kissing along your jaw, down the edge of your throat. “Ya tasted just like this. Felt just like this. Drove me fuckin’ crazy stoppin’ halfway.” His teeth scraped your skin, and your knees nearly buckled.
Your hands fisted in his shirt, the cotton stretched tight across his chest, and you hated yourself for how badly you wanted more.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide. “Ain’t stoppin’ this time.”
The promise in his voice sent a shiver straight down your spine. His hand slid daringly to the waistband of your skirt, fingers hooking there, tugging like he was testing how far he could push. The stall creaked with the shift of weight, the sound loud in the quiet hum of distant party noise.
His grin turned slow, wicked. “Ya look so good down here, princess. Bet you’d look even better on your knees.” Your breath seized, heat saturating your face. The words slumped thick in the air, suggestion heavy and deliberate, leaving no doubt where this was headed.
And the worst part? You didn’t want to stop him.
You encounter his gaze, licking your lips slowly. "Is that a challenge, Atsumu? Because you know I never back down from a challenge."
"Prove it then. Show me what that pretty mouth can do."
With a defiant toss of your hair, you drop to your knees before him. Your hands make quick work of his belt that wove his waist, unbuckling it with practiced ease. You drag down his zipper, maintaining raw eye contact.
Atsumu's cock springs free, already hard as a rock. You’re advancing further than the last time, and you wouldn’t have expected to be on your knees two minutes into the game. He’s… thick for sure. Actually, that’d be an understatement from the sheer width of it. It’s heavy in your hands, and he’s already leaking in beads of pre-cum, lots of it.
“Sorry, princess.. Yer really makin’ me look pathetic.” He coos, grabbing your hands to smother it on his length, making him hitch at the sensation. “Gonna help clean up the mess ya made?” He tilts his head, pouting.
“Mmh, shut up.” You roll your eyes, your soft hands engulfing what you can fit, barely cupping the thickness of his cock. It’s wet, and he’s beyond saving. He groans, head falling back against the stall wall, which lands a light thud that slightly echoes across the toilet.
"Wanna–ahh.. put my cock in ya," he rasps, tangling a hand in your hair.
You slowly lean in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock from base to tip. His salty musk floods your senses, making your core clench as the mere hormones that're swelling. You stir your tongue around the tip, teasing the sensitive flesh.
Atsumu swears, fingers tightening in your hair. "Ya gonna tease me all night, or are ya going to suck my dick like ya mean it?"
You flash him a grin before parting your lips and taking him into your mouth. You sink down gradually, relishing the feel of him heavy on your tongue.
Your hand works what you can't fit, pumping in time with your mouth. Atsumu thinks he could die a happy man when he has you between his thighs, slick sounds like music to his ears as you bob your head up and down on his cock; spit collecting in your mouth and streams of saliva steadily around him, even dribbling down to his balls and the way you swirl your tongue over his cockhead has him groaning so loud, his eyes squeeze shut.
His grip on strands of your hair tightens, and you feel a firm push at the back of your head, suddenly feeling your throat close as you feel his tip impel deeper into your trachea. You almost choke at his length, the buck of his hips making you deepthroat every inch of his cock.
You peer up at him through wet lashes, tears collecting in your eyes from the sheer push and pull. He’s fucked over, watching his head thrown back from the mere pleasure of your mouth, the veins in his throat prominent with every loud groan and grunt he lets out for you, his abdomen tightening, both of his hands are pushing your head, causing his bicep to flex, and the sight makes you moan.
Atsumu feels the vibrations around every inch of his thick cock, and he’s propelling your every mouth. You stopped gagging seconds ago, becoming used to his thick cock, or more so, the pleasures just surges over you like a tide. You could devour all of him.
Your mind is completely empty, body going limp as he fucks into your mouth like a pocket pussy, chanting breathy fuck, fuck, fuck’s. It's been three minutes in, and he’s thrusting into your mouth really fast, violating your poor throat.
"That's it. All of it." He starts to fuck your face in earnest, holding your head still as he pumps into your mouth. Tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes from the force of it, but you don't resist. You want this, want to make him lose control.
"Fuck, I could cum down your throat," Atsumu grunts, his rhythm faltering. "But I'm not gonna waste a single drop inside this little mouth. I've got better plans for it." With a sharp tug on your hair, he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, twines of saliva, and precum connecting your lips to his dick. Atsumu uses his grip on your hair to haul you to your feet.
"Turn around," he commands, spinning you to face the stall wall. "Hands on the wall."
In the fourth minute, you had exactly 180 seconds.
Atsumu wastes no time shoving your skirt down to your knees.
He runs a hand over the globes of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh possessively. "Bet yer drippin’ for me already, aren't ya, princess?" To demonstrate his point, he slides a hand between your legs, cupping your sex through your panties. You're right, they're already soaked through. He chuckles at the sight of your imminent arousal.
"Fuckin’ soaked," he murmurs, rubbing your clothed slit. "Ya want my cock that bad, don't ya?"
You press back against his hand, seeking more pressure. "Y-yes," you moan shamelessly. "Please, Tsumu—need you, inside me." He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs. The nippy air of the stall kisses your heated flesh, making you shiver.
"Beg for it," Atsumu demands, slipping a finger between your supple folds to taunt your core. "Beg me to fuck this pretty pussy."
"Tsumu," you whimper, trying to push back onto his finger. "Need you s’bad—please, just– fuck me—"
"That's a good girl," he purrs, adding a second finger and pumping them in and out. "So desperate for it." You're practically vibrating with need at this point, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each thrust of his fingers. He curls them just right to hit that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.
"Fuck—!" you cry out, clutching at the stall wall for support.
"That's it," Atsumu coaxes, scissoring his fingers to stretch you. "Are ya ready, princess?" Just when you think you can't take any more, he withdraws his fingers completely. You make a sound of protest, only to have it cut off by the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
"Brace yerself, m’not gonna hold back—!" Atsumu warns, a groan leaving his lips at the last sentence, a split second before he slams forward into your pussy, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You scream at the sudden invasion, back arching sharply. He doesn't give you any time to adjust, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in again.
He puts a palm to your mouth, fingers digging into your waist as it bleeds purple. His breath catches the shell of your ear, and he’s fucking like a jackrabbit; you can feel the curve of him slide your flesh walls, and his thick cock stretches your mounds. “Take it good for me, will ya? Gotta make use of our time, ma.”
The stall fills with the wet sounds of skin smacking against skin and your ecstatic moans of pleasure. Atsumu sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with abandon. Each thrust drives you higher and higher; your pleasure is building to a fever pitch.
"Oh fuck, ya feel so fuckin’ amazing," Atsumu pants behind you, he’s so fast that you’re almost losing balance— feeling all of him so fast, so quick, you’re about to cum. "So fuckin’ wet." You can only moan in response, too lost in sensation to form coherent words. All you can do is take what he's giving you, your body singing with ecstasy.
He reaches around to rub tight circles over your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. "Three minutes to spare," he rumbles, breath hot against your neck. "Look at ya, can’t even speak right." His words send a thrill through you, stoking the fire in your abdomen. You clench around him rhythmically, milking his cock with your greedy walls.
"Come on, baby," Atsumu urges, fingers moving faster over your clit. "Come all over my cock." He can sense that your orgasm was awashing near, feeling your pussy tug at his cock as your supple mounds start to retract.
His command sends you hurtling over the precipice, your orgasm crashing through you. You scream his name as you come undone, his name is muffled through the palms of his hand, pleasure whites hot and blinding.
Though he’s not quite done yet.
He picks up your thigh to ease his pace and structure, thrusting into you faster. “Oh, fuck, fuck—” He’s no longer forming words himself, getting lost in your pussy as he fucks into you senseless. You lose all brain and still rut under the embrace of his cock, continuously ramming into your walls.
You don’t even realize how loud you moan, Atsumu himself is unaware of his own.
“Hey, time's up.”
Suna’s voice breaks through, and it had been past 8 minutes to your knowledge. Though neither you nor Atsumu had cared anymore. You’re still whimpering, the slap of your skins mingling still courses through the tiled walls, and the door rattles, a barrier between Suna and the two of you.
“Give me a few seconds.” Atsumu groans, brutally forcing his thrusts. His tip isn’t just peppering kisses anymore; they’re helplessly bruising your cervix.
But fuck, does he feel like heaven in your clit.
You both are lost in your senses, and Suna is tapping impatiently at his feet. “Enjoying yourselves way too much, man. My ears are boutta go deaf.” Though no reply is given from either of you, both persist in going at it as if Suna didn’t exist on the other side of the door.
“Make it quick, love birds.” You hear the door outside closed shut, and Atsumu’s orgasm is at its peak. You feel him swell inside you, his thrusts growing erratic as he nearly feels his climax wash over him. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, reaching around to rub tight circles over your clit. Your walls clamp down around him, milking his release from his body. “Gonna fill ya full of my cum, princess.”
Atsumu comes with a sharp whimper, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside you. You can feel his hot seed flooding your channel, painting your insides with his essence. He collapses against your back, both of you panting for breath in the aftermath. His softening cock slips out of you slowly, followed by a trickle of his semen.
Atsumu presses a kiss to your sweat-slicked shoulder before stepping back. He tucks himself away and rights his clothing, helping clean your folds afterwards as he smirks down at you.
The stall was quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing, the faint thump of bass from the party bleeding through the walls. Your legs were still shaky, your shirt wrinkled from his grip, and Atsumu hadn’t let go of you once.
He was kissing your face slowly, savoring every second left before someone banged on the door to drag you out. His lips were swollen, his hair a mess, and he tasted something you knew you wouldn’t forget anytime soon. His thumb stroked across your cheekbone, a strangely gentle touch for how rough he’d just been.
“God,” he panted, “Ya have no idea how long I’ve wanted that.” You tried to catch your breath, rolling your eyes half-heartedly, but he caught your chin and kissed you again, lingering; he wasn’t finished yet.
He broke away with a grin, cocky even when he was wrecked. “That was just a taste, princess.” His mouth brushed against yours with every word. “Next time, I’m takin’ my time with ya. Gonna fuck ya proper.”
The promise sent another shudder down your crest. He grimaced at the way your eyes flickered, like he knew exactly what effect he had on you.
The sound of someone laughing outside snapped you both back to reality. He gave one last kiss before straightening up and fixing his shirt with a chuckle. “Guess we better not keep ‘em waitin’.”
He glanced down at you one more time, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t worry, princess. Seven minutes ain’t enough for me.”
THE HOME DIRECTORY TO THE VOLLEYBALL POWERHOUSES OF JAPAN —— vice president bokuto says: hey, hey, hey!
◄ back to masterlist.
INARIZAKI
➤ I. ATSUMU MIYA
SEVEN MINUTES IN ... ❥・ when the bottle ends up between you and atsumu, suna enforces a change of rules where seven minutes in heaven must be done in a toilet stall. wc. 4.2k
I. THE HAIKYUU VOLUME
— LOADING INFO… bellboy suna warns you that the owner of the museum; chloe is obsessed with ushiwaka!
II. THE JUJUTSU KAISEN VOLUME
— LOADING INFO… server shiu thinks that geto fangirls are gay, witnesses say he got beat to death?
III. THE MY HERO ACADEMIA VOLUME
— LOADING INFO… accountant bakugou is currently chasing customers out... we'll be right back! waiter shoto will come to your service in a jiffy.
TO PASS THE THRESHOLD, YOU MUST FOLLOW THE RULES AND REGULATIONS OF THE ; WAKAMELON MUSEUM ! (and remember, if minor, off the premises.)
⋆ i am an nsfw blog, i strongly warn about three times in my blog that minors are not allowed.
⋆ i only write for HAIKYUU, MHA and JJK! (mainly hq buttt im also open to fun discourse about other animes that i love)
⋆ every dni criteria possible, i do not take lightly to hateful words and failure to compromise will lead to a hard block. please learn to have morals and values!
⋆ please do not plagiarize my work or modify it in anyway! if inspired, give credit where it’s due.
⋆ i seldom write dark content so if that makes you uncomfortable i suggest you click away and do not interact
⋆ i only write for afab readers, however i try not to specify features like skin/weight so that everyone feels welcome and included in my works :))
⋆ i don’t proofread my works so expect slight mistakes in my writing… english is not my first language #nobetawedielikemen
IN THE MUSEUM, THE PREMISE DOES NOT ALLOW ;
⋆ non-con, illegal age-gaps/ageplay, incest or stepcest, bodily fluid kinks or nasty ass fetishes that also involve harm to the human body in a sexual way. any requests involving these will result in a hard block (and a suggestion to cleanse urselves cause holy)
⋆ underaged characters, i do not feel comfortable writing them. (for jjk i will only write for the canon adults. ALL my haikyuu and mha works are based on timeskip which is canon. keyword; canon please)
