just laughing. that’s all it took. one laugh—soft and unthinking—from across the table, eyes crinkled and hand brushing your hair behind your ear as you giggled at something bokuto said.
and it burned into atsumu’s brain.
he’d been sitting next to you all night, arm slung over the back of your chair like he was staking a claim, his gold eyes flicking between conversations, drinks, and the way your dress clung to your thighs. you were wearing that black silky one he loved. the one he bought you. the one that barely covered anything when you sat down.
you’d thought he was just in a good mood—post-win high and all—but the way he’d gone quiet in the last ten minutes said otherwise.
“‘tsumu,” you murmur in his ear, nudging him with your shoulder. “y’good?” his jaw flexes. that’s your only answer.
he doesn’t say a damn word for the rest of the night.
it’s not until the front door slams behind you two that you realize how pissed he actually is.
the second the lock clicks, he’s on you.
not gently. not sweet.
atsumu kicks your heels off for you as he shoves you against the door with one large hand wrapped around your throat—not squeezing, just… holding. feeling. controlling.
"had fun tonight?" he says low, voice rough against your neck as he presses his body into yours, pinning you with his hips.
you gasp. “'tsumu—”
"bet you loved laughin’ at bokkun's dumbass jokes. touchin’ his arm like that. sittin’ pretty in that fuckin’ dress like yer single."
your eyes widen. “oh my god, you’re jealous?” he scoffs, but his grip tightens just slightly. "yeah, i am, sweetheart."
"you're such a baby—"
he cuts you off with a growl, his mouth crashing down on yours. it’s not a kiss—it’s a claim. tongue and teeth, messy and dominant, like he’s punishing you for making him feel so pissed in the first place. like he’s trying to erase the memory of you smiling at someone else.
you try to keep up, nails scratching into his shirt, but you moan into his mouth when his thigh wedges between your legs and presses up.
“told ya not to wear that fuckin’ dress unless i’m the one gettin’ the show," he mutters, dragging his mouth down your jaw, biting the soft spot just under your ear. “y’made me look like a damn fool.”
you’re breathless, dazed, already clenching around nothing. “you’re—fuck—overreacting—”
"oh yeah?" he yanks your dress up, letting it bunch around your waist before he picks you up like you weigh nothing and carries you to the couch, throwing you down onto the cushions.
“then why are ya so wet, huh? from bokuto’s jokes or from pissin’ me off?”
you squirm, heat flooding your cheeks. “atsumu—”
he yanks your panties down your legs in one swift motion and buries his face between your thighs, growling as he licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit. you scream.
“you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he says, lips glistening, fingers spreading you open. “y'know how hard it is not to bend ya over every surface when yer bein’ bratty like that?”
you don’t get to answer.
he dives back in—sloppily, hungrily, angrily—tongue flattening over your clit, then curling in circles until your legs shake. his hands pin your thighs down as you try to buck your hips.
"f-fuck, 'tsumu, i’m—ngh, god—"
“gonna cum?” he pants, pulling away just before you fall over the edge. “yeah? think ya deserve it?”
you whimper. “please—!” he gives a mocking smile, leaning in, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of your desperation. “nah.”
you whine, tears pricking your eyes.
but atsumu doesn’t let up for long. he unbuckles his belt in record speed, pulling himself out—thick, red, already leaking—and strokes it once as he grabs your chin, tilting your face toward him.
“eyes on me,” he growls. “not anyone else. me.”
you nod quickly, almost too fast.
he doesn’t prep you—he knows you’re soaked. he slides in deep, all the way in one brutal thrust that knocks the breath out of your lungs. your head falls back. “fuck!”
he fucks you hard—like he’s got something to prove. like he’s trying to fuck the memory of tonight out of both your heads. the couch creaks under his pace, each thrust rough and deep, his hand gripping the back of your neck to keep you still.
“you’re mine,” he pants against your ear, voice shaking with how wrecked he sounds. “say it.”
“y-yours,” you gasp, nails clawing at his back as he hits that perfect spot again and again. “i’m yours, 'tsumu!”
“that’s right,” he snarls. “gonna fuck you so good you forget anyone else exists.”
and he does.
he shifts your legs up, pushing your knees against your chest for a deeper angle, and slams into you, again and again, until you’re sobbing his name.
when he feels your walls clamp around him, his mouth breaks into a cocky smirk. “c’mon, baby. cream on this dick. let ‘em know who it belongs to.”
your orgasm hits hard, legs trembling, vision white as your body locks up around him.
atsumu groans, deep and low in his throat, hips stuttering as he buries himself to the hilt and cums inside you—hot, heavy, deep—his whole body shaking with it.
you’re still catching your breath when he leans over, kissing your shoulder. his tone shifts. softer. guilty.
“…sorry,” he mutters. “was i too rough?”
you blink, dazed. “you just rearranged my guts, atsumu.”
atsumu lets out a short laugh, dropping his forehead to your chest. “yeah, well… i fuckin’ hate sharin’ you. even by accident.”
you tangle your fingers in his hair and smile. “you’re the only one i see.” he looks up at you—eyes darker than before, but tender—and kisses you slow. “damn right.”
then his grin returns, smug and satisfied.
“…round two in the shower, baby?”
a/n: sakusa was the first in my mind to use as the other guy but it'll be weird for me coz i'm a skts truther 😭🤚🏻 also, thank you for this request 🤍. masterlist
the fact that gojou is looking at the black fish, a bit concerned if i may, while getou is tiredly looking down and not at the white fish… excuse me imma lay down for a bit
im thinking of writing another nsfw piece again ^v^ but this time its threesome (m/f/m) with miya twins, what do you guys think? (suggestions/requests are open)
atsumu gently pounded you from the back while holding your hips firm yet gently muttering, "a-ah... fuck. yer so fuckin'... tight." you refrained from moaning out of concern that someone could overhear you having sex in the narrow, shadowy backstreet alley. although you don't really recall how the two of you ended up fucking here, this isn't the first time you two had done anything similar. the previous time it happened, it happened in a public restroom, inside a car, and even on a beach. he doesn't really want to be caught, but the thrill turns him on. you mumbled, "t-tsumu... stop," you whispered, face turning scarlet. "stop?" he laughed softly and accelerated his pace. "then why's yer pussy sucking my cock like it's the tastiest thing in the world?" he whispered closed to your ear, his breath was heavy, and he's close. disheveled hair, smudged lipstick, and wrinkled dress-- that's how you look like right now. you bit your lower lip, "this isn't how i expected things to go..." you thought, after all, he invited you to hang out and have a "date" with him, and you were happy that he asked you since it's been a while since he's been really busy with his volleyball matches. heck, you even went through the trouble of buying a new dress (which is now wrinkled). as he stopped moving, he stroked, toyed with your breasts, and kissed your back, slowly releasing his fluids inside you. he slowly pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your pink and pulsing cunt. he smirked and added, "let's go," before pulling his pants up and fastening his belt, and even though your legs are still trembling, he began walking.
