childhood bsf!atsumu finally loses it and turns into a pathetic mess the second he sinks into you after years of fantasizing.
cw. explicit smut, tsumu has a big dih, big size difference, slight overstimulation, childhood friends to lovers undertones, creampie, tsumu being down bad, osamu mentioned :p : 1.6k words
atsumu’s always been loud about it.
ever since high school, back when he would often tell everyone that he’s going on a date with some hot chick and osamu would smack the back of his head for running his mouth in the locker room. “i’ve fucked more girls than you’ve had rice bowls,” he’d brag to anyone who’d listen, shoulders squared, that fox-like grin splitting his face.
osamu usually just rolled his eyes and muttered “yeah sure ya have” under his breath while toweling sweat off his neck.
you were always there too— sitting on the bench while you wait for him to finish so you could walk home together, pretending you weren’t listening. but you were. you always were.
he never said it to your face though. never looked straight at you and ran that same cocky spiel. with you it was different. softer. stupider. he’d nudge your shoulder with his, steal fries off your tray, call you “shortstack” even after you’d both shot up and you still only reached his collarbone. he’d ruffle your hair like you were some kid sister he was fond of.
except he wasn’t fond of you like a sister.
he was disgusting about it, actually.
he spent years of stolen glances while walking home together from school, when your sundress rode up your thighs on hot summer days, when you laughed so hard you had to grab his arm to stay upright. years of him jerking off in the shower after you’d hug him after winning a match, smelling like vanilla body mist and sunshine. years of him groaning your name into his pillow at 3 am in the morning like a prayer he was too ashamed to say out loud.
sprawled across his bed like you belong there— because you do, you always fucking did. your legs parted just enough that he can see how soaked your cute cotton panties are. there’s a little damp spot right in the center and atsumu swears his soul just left his body through his dick.
“ya sure?” he asks for the third time in ten minutes. his voice rough. cracking at the edges like he’s sixteen again.
you nod, biting your lip, cheeks flushed so pretty he wants to bite them.
“atsumu,” you murmur, reaching for his wrist. “stop stalling.”
“’m not stallin’,” he lies instantly. “just… y’know. makin’ sure my best girl’s ready for the miya special.”
you snort. actually snort. and it’s so you that his chest does that stupid flip thing it’s been doing since forever.
“miya special,” you echo, teasing. “is that what we’re calling your right hand now?”
he groans, drops his forehead to your bare stomach. “don’t be mean t’me. ’m fragile right now.”
“you’re the least fragile person i know.”
“not when it’s you,” he mumbles against your skin. kisses the soft curve under your belly button. then lower. then lower. “been dreamin’ bout this pussy since i knew what hard-ons were.”
he hooks two fingers in the waistband of your panties, drags them down slow like he’s unwrapping something holy. when the fabric peels away from your cunt there’s a thin string of slick that stretches and snaps and atsumu makes a sound that can only be described as wounded.
he just stares for a second. like he’s trying to memorize every glistening fold. then he lowers his head and licks a fat, obscene stripe from your perineum all the way up to your clit.
you jerk. your thighs twitching. little whimper slipping out before you can catch it.
atsumu grins against you— feral, boyish, that shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid pretty face.
“told ya i’m a pro,” he mutters, voice muffled because his mouth is already back on you. “gonna eat this pussy so good ya forget every other guy’s name.”
except there aren’t other guys. not really. not ones that mattered. he knows that. you’ve told him before— drunk on cheap convenience store sake on his birthday two years ago— that you’ve only ever wanted him.
he never mentioned it after that.
but he still wants to erase the idea of anyone else ever touching you.
his tongue is messy. sloppy, even. he’s not trying to be neat or precise— he’s trying to drown in you. his nose pressing to your puffy clit, lips sealed around your entrance, sucking like he’s starving. when you buck he just groans louder, palms sliding up your thighs to pin you open wider.
“taste s’fuckin’ good,” he slurs. “been missin’ out my whole life.”
you’re already trembling. fingers twisted in his bleached hair. tugging hard enough that his scalp stings and it only makes him eat you out harder.
when he finally pulls back to breathe his chin is shiny, lips swollen and red. pupils blown so wide there’s barely any hazel left.
“gonna put it in now,” he rasps. not a question.
he fumbles with his shorts like his hands forgot how zippers work. when his cock springs free it slaps against his stomach— thick, flushed dark at the head, already leaking. bigger than you expected even though you’ve seen him in nothing but boxer briefs a hundred times.
“tsumu…” you breathe. half awe, half nerves.
he wraps a hand around the fat base, gives himself one slow stroke. “yeah?”
“you’re… really... uh— big.”
he grins, cocky but unraveling at the seams.
“i know baby. gonna stretch ya so pretty.”
he crawls back over you. one forearm braced beside your head, the other guiding himself to your entrance. he rubs the head through your folds— coating himself, teasing your already tingling clit until you whine.
then he pushes slowly, just the tip first.
and then stops. his whole body locks up, eyes fluttering shut. mouth falling open in a silent O shape.
“fuuuck— oh fuck— oh my god—”
you’ve never heard him sound like that.
“tight,” he chokes. “s’too fuckin’ tight— shit— ’m gonna die—”
you giggle despite the stretch. despite the ache. “you’re so dramatic.”
“not dramatic,” he pants. “just— jesus christ— yer pussy’s tryna kill me.”
he sinks another inch. then another. slowly. careful. even though his arms are shaking and sweat is already beading on his temple.
when he’s halfway in he drops his face into your neck and just… stays there. breathing so hard, his hips twitching like he’s fighting every instinct to slam home.
“gimme a sec,” he mumbles. voice muffled against your skin. “gimme a fuckin’ sec or ’m gonna cum right now and i swear t’god i’ll never forgive myself.”
you card your fingers through his damp hair soothingly.
“you can move,” you whisper. “want you to.”
you heard him make a broken noise.
he pulls back the tiniest bit just to feel the drag— then rolls his hips forward again. deeper this time. filling you so full your toes curl.
your pussy were stretched wide to its limits, gripping his thick shaft in a vice-grip like its sucking him in even deeper.
“ohmygod,” you both say at the same time.
then you’re both laughing— breathless, dazed, stupidly happy like some lovesick idiots.
until he rolls his hips again and again.
and suddenly laughing isn’t an option anymore.
atsumu miya— loudmouth, cocky setter, self-proclaimed sex god turns into the most pathetic, whimpering mess the second he bottoms out inside your warm pussy.
his sweaty forehead pressed to yours. eyes glassy. mouth slack. babbling incoherently like he’s too fucked-out to say something clearly.
“s’good... shiit— s’warm— fuckfuck— pussy’s suckin’ me in— can ya feel that? hm baby? shit— ’m so deep— look— look how deep i am—”
he grabs your hand. presses it low on your lower stomach where he’s bulging just a little.
that made you let out a loud and shameless moan. “atsumu— oh fuuuck!”
“yeah baby... say my name, fuck— say it again—”
he starts fucking you for real then. not graceful, not practiced. just pure raw need. his hips snapping, bed creaking so loud by the force of his thrusts. you could hear the wet squelching sounds every time he sheathes himself completely inside your fluttering cunt.
he’s so big it hurts a little, burns in the best way but the stretch makes your brain melt out your ears. he’s fucking you so good. so fucking good.
“good girl...” he slurs. “takin’ it so good— takin’ my big cock like ya were made for it— fuck— made f’me—”
you’re drooling. actually drooling. a little string of spit sliding from the corner of your mouth. he licks it up without thinking. kisses you messily, all tongue and teeth and desperation.
“been waitin’ so long,” he confesses between thrusts, his voice cracking. “wanted this— wanted you— fuck— since we were kids— used t’dream bout bendin’ ya over my desk—”
you clench around him hard at the image.
“do that again— please— please baby— squeeze me— fuuuck— ’m so close already— don’t wanna cum yet— wanna stay inside ya forever—”
and you do it again. deliberately. clenching your walls tightly against his pistoning cock
his rhythm stutters for a sec, his hips punching forward erratically. “nonononono— shiiit—! wait— ’m gonna—”
you wrap your legs around his waist. pull him deeper inside. lock him there.
“inside,” you whisper against his ear. “wan’ it inside.”
his full-body shudder, letting out a choked moan. hips jerking as he pumps you full of hot, thick spurts that seem to go on forever that it leaks out around his cock. he keeps moving through it, shallow little thrusts like he can’t stop. like his body won’t let him.
when he finally stills he’s shaking. panting. face buried in your neck again.
“sorry,” he mumbles. “came too fast— fuck— ’m sorry—”
you laugh breathlessly, still heaving and kiss the shell of his ear.
“you’re so cute when you’re ruined.”
he groans. embarrassed but still inside you. still half-hard.
“gonna pull out,” he mutters.
you tighten your legs around him. “stay.”
his breath hitches. “yeah?”
he kisses you slow this time. lazy and passionate. his thumb brushing your cheek like you’re something precious.
“love ya,” he whispers. barely audible. like he’s scared the words will break if he says them louder.
you smile against his mouth. “love you too, tsumu.”
he makes a tiny, wrecked sound. almost sound like a whimper.
then he rolls his hips again— gentle this time. just testing at first.
“gonna make ya cum now,” he promises. voice hoarse but determined. “gonna move again, yeah? gonna fuck you so hard you’ll cum many times.”
he grins. that same grin from when you were twelve. except now it’s softer. fonder. stupid in love. “promise, shortstack.”
and then he starts moving again- slowly but oh so deep, already whispering the nastiest, sweetest things against your lips.
osamu’s never gonna let him live this down when he finds out he fucked his beat friend.
right now atsumu doesn’t care.
he’s finally home. so close to the only person he’s ever really wanted.
for this req! i wrote this while i was out so its a little messy haha but i rly miss writing for hq so tysm for this idea ^_^ #goingbacktomyroots
romaincrisis
andulkaphoto
titsay
kaledo-art
areudirty
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
janainaart
