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bosco's kinktober 2021

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✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“There’s something very creepy about the way you smile after you cuff me.” Kenma murmured, his words mumbled under his breath as he pulled his now cuffed hands to his chest. He didn’t think he would ever get used to this; standing nude in front of another person. It’s not the first time he and Kuroo have… played, so to say, and still Kenma felt nervous butterflies filling his abdomen, and electricity dance across his skin with each touch. 


Kuroo let out a soft humming noise as he took a step back. Unlike Kenma, he was completely clothed. A clean button up tucked into a fitting pair of black slacks, it was simple, but Kuroo still looked flawless in it. He looked effortlessly expensive, aside from the mess atop his head. “You really enjoy mouthing off when you’re at my mercy, huh?”


Kenma furrowed his brows, glaring at Kuroo who looked like he was seconds away from bursting into a fit of laughter, “Did you really just say I’m at your mercy? That’s awful.”


Kuroo chuckled to himself as he turned away from him, waving his hand dismissively over his shoulder, “Let's not get into the details, I have a fun night planned.” He said that every time, it was a phrase that Kenma was more than familiar with. That wasn’t to say Kuroo didn’t fulfill his promises. It was always a fun time. Kuroo knew his body in ways that Kenma didn’t. It was both thrilling and intimidating. “Why don’t you be a good boy,” Kuroo started, sitting down on the edge of his bed, patting his lap, “And laid down.”


In response to Kuroo’s words, Kenma raised a brow at him, “And when have you ever known me to be, and I quote, ‘a good boy’ ?” Sure, with time as the scene developed, Kenma was more coaxed into behaving. It was more fun that way. Watching the patience drip off Kuroo as he was forced to be strict. When he got a little mean . Kuroo was hot when he was mean, that was a fact.


Kuroo fixed him with a look, a tilt of his head and knowing smirk, “Ah, my bad. I should have known better.” He pushed himself up from the bed, approaching Kenma again, reaching out to smooth his ridiculously warm hands over Kenma’s bare shoulders. He ran them down, over Kenma’s biceps and then his waist where he squeezed him firmly. “Bend over the bed,” He leaned closer, lips hovering over Kenma’s ear, “Or else you don’t get to come tonight.”


Kenma felt himself shiver, despite trying to keep his cool. Kuroo’s voice had such a deep rasp to it in moments like this, it just weakened him to his core. But his threat wasn’t anything new, he’s heard it before. He has been punished before, too. For now, Kenma humored Kuroo, took a step away from him and turned toward the bed, laying down over the end of it, spreading his arms out in front of him. He glanced back at Kuroo, pursing his lips, “Happy?”


Kuroo smirked, stepping close to him, placing his hands on the bed beside Kenma’s hips to balance himself. “Almost.” Kenma gasped when Kuroo suddenly kicked his legs apart, forcing him to be exposed, “Now, you would have been a lot happier, and more comfortable in my lap, but you’ve always got something to say.” Kuroo said as he stepped away from him, and reached into his bag at the end of the bed. Kenma watched him, trying to keep his expression neutral as he pulled out a thick red paddle. “I wonder how long until you get tired of this position.”


Kenma rolled his eyes at Kuroo’s dramatics. He loved talking, used it as a way to unravel Kenma, and he could admit it was effective. At the same time, it felt ridiculous.


“That’s not very nice.” Kuroo murmured, catching Kenma’s attitude, stepping behind him again. “I don’t feel like I spoil you, so I don’t know what made you so bratty.”


“Did you ever think you just don’t have the effect you want over me?” Kenma countered, looking over his shoulder again, watching Kuroo’s grin grow more sinister. That was part of the reason he liked talking back. He liked watching Kuroo go wild, liked when Kuroo was working up as much of a sweat as Kenma did.


Kenma watched Kuroo lift the paddle, shut his eyes just in time as he ran the leather toy up his inner thigh. “We both know that’s just not true.” He spoke softer, but Kenma still heard every word, felt his heart jump when the paddle stopped at his balls, prodding gently at them. “You’re easier to read then you think.” Kuroo told him, rutting the paddle back and forth over Kenma’s balls, making Kenma’s hands curl into fists as he pressed his lips together.


The leather was cold. It made Kenma flinch as he brought it up higher, the toy rubbing over his hole, before it was gone entirely. He sighed through his nose, giving himself a moment to compose himself, but it was stolen from with a harsh and loud smack to his ass. Kenma’s entire body flinched, his ass cheek stinging in the wake of the slap.


His eyes were wide, lips parted, and when the second whack came, to the same spot,  he cried out loud. His toes curling against the carpet. “ Fuck !” He groaned, pressing his forehead against the sheets, “A bit much just to start out, don’t you think?”


“You know this isn’t full strength.” Kuroo reminded him, “I can’t go easy on you, you’re already smug enough. But if you want to complain…” The next hit was more expected, but instead of his ass the leather paddle striked his thigh just beneath the cheek. Kenma cried out again, this hit harder than his last two. He swore under his breath and Kuroo laughed, “Was that a complaint?” 


Kenma turned his head, his eyes narrowed on Kuroo, “I make one noise, and you’re cocky. Who’s really the smug one here?” He bit at him, his glare sharp.


Kuroo giggled even more, shrugging his shoulders, “You may have a point. But it doesn’t matter, I’m not restrained.” He smoothed his hand over Kenma’s redden cheek, “There’s absolutely nothing you can do about my smugness... you on the other hand…” He squeezed Kenma’s ass hard , making him arch his back, “Are trapped .” He leaned back, giving a playful slap to the spot.


Kenma huffed softly, but he was right. Kenma was trapped, and he absolutely loved that. His cock was hard underneath him, but he didn’t plan on making any movements to let Kuroo in on that fact. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction if it could be helped.


The next strike was sudden, against the opposite thigh. Kenma felt his body twitch in response, and then a second later he felt another smack across that cheek, following a whack to the opposite cheek. They were in quick succession, and Kenma wasn’t able to compose himself. He couldn’t help from squirming, he couldn’t help the gasps and whines that left his lips. He saw Kuroo wind his arm back from the corner of his eye, and tensed his body in anticipation for the paddle to come down on him. Except it never came, and when Kenma peeked at him, Kuroo had a shit-eating grin on his face, and hand on his cocked hip, paddle lowered at his side, “Sorry? Expecting something?”


“F-Fuck you.” Kenma spit out, his nostrils flaring in embarrassment. It just made Kuroo chuckle, and Kenma’s cock twitched against the sheets beneath him. 


“What’s your color?” Kuroo asked, lifting the paddle, running his long, thin finger over the length of it.


Kenma scoffed softly, “Green. Are you kidding me?” He wasn’t anywhere near his limit. Kuroo must have been losing it if he thought he had any type of affect like that on him already. Kenma could take some spanking, even if it was with a paddle. But Kuroo seemed to just get braver with each little noise that left Kenma's lips. Like it was impressive to even have him make a peep. Pathetic. It pissed him off.


The next smack to his ass was loud and hard enough to echo, knocked the wind out of Kenma, and left his hips twitched against the mattress. His knees wobbled and his fingers tangled in the sheets as he pressed his face into the mattress. “Well if you’re doing that well, I think I can go harder, hm?” Kuroo all but purred, and followed his words with another unforgiving whack of the paddle. Kenma cried out, tears stinging in the corner of his eyes as the same spot was hit again, and with a third strike to his other cheek Kenma felt drool pooling in his mouth. “Stand up straighter, you’re getting sloppy.” Kuroo told him, his voice firm, and commanding.


Kenma lifted himself up, cock dragging against the sheets as he shifted and it made him shiver. He could feel a wet spot underneath him, from where his dick was drooling but he didn’t touch himself, he just listened. No snarky remark, no resisting, Kenma listened. The burning sting left in the wake of the paddle was all the convincing he needed. “That’s a good boy.” Kuroo said to him, his warm hand smoothing over Kenma’s raw, sensitive skin. Kenma sucked in a breath, the touch was gentle but a pulsing, angry pain still coursed through his veins at the slightest touch. “Oh? So sensitive, yeah, I love that.”


Kuroo gave his ass a firm squeeze, making Kenma hiss, and then as he withdrew the paddle came down on the spot he was just touching. Kenma jerked with the smack, and next he was slapped at his thighs, his knees buckling for a moment, pressing his body firmer into the bed. Shit, he was losing his mind. Tears fell down his cheeks as he cried silently, drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. His ass was burning, the ache was so bad Kenma doubted he would be able to sit down and stream without massive discomfort. His knees and hips were starting to ache from the position he was in.


He felt Kuroo’s hand smooth up his back, until his fingers were tangling in his hair, with a yank Kenma’s upper body was drawn back. He felt Kuroo leaned down, until his chest was against Kenma’s back. He could feel the fabric of Kuroo’s pants against his ass and thighs, and it made his stomach swoop, made his face twist as a moan escaped his lips, “Did you come all over yourself yet?” Kuroo asked, his breath hot against Kenma’s ear, “I feel like I’ve barely touched you and you’re already a sweet little mess, huh?” He chuckled, shoving Kenma’s face back down, before he bucked his hips against his ass. He could feel the bulge of Kuroo’s pants, his half hard cock dragging over him. But what stung was the friction of the fabric against where he was red and raw, Kenma stifled a groan, but his hiccuped cry escaped his lips despite his efforts.


Kuroo moved away from him as quickly as he came. Kenma was surrounded by him, could feel the warmth of his body, the calluses of his hands, and his hot breaths… then he was gone. It was like whiplash. Kenma shivered in his absence, his face flushed, but he forced his eyes forward. He felt pathetic enough, the last thing he was going to do was look for him, or seek him out.


He could hear Kuroo shifting, and then there was the telltale sound of a bottle cap, and the groan of that bottle as it was squeezed. Lube . Kenma spread his legs on instinct, and Kuroo hummed above him, “That’s it. I bet you’re close, huh?” It wasn’t a lie, Kenma’s cock was aching beneath him, and he would love for it to be touched but he wasn’t going to beg. “But you can’t come without my fingers, can you, baby?” Kuroo’s voice was softer when he said that, and Kenma’s face twisted, forcing the whimper down. The pads of Kuroo’s fingers were at his hole, circling the ring of muscle before he worked one of them inside him. Kenma gasped, pulling at the sheets as Kurro pressed the entire length of his digit inside him, knuckle nudging against his rim. “There, there.” Kuroo gave him two firm pats on his ass.


It wasn’t hard enough to impact him, but the ache from the paddle was still there, causing Kenma to tremble in response. Kuroo was quick to insert a second finger, to help Kenma adjust, scissoring his digits apart and stretching him. Kenma liked being filled; whether it be fingers, or cock, or a toy. There was something comforting, about having something firm, and warm inside him. He often allowed himself this, kept himself stretched on anything that could fit. So Kuroo’s fingers inside him were a godsend. Especially when he curled them against his prostate.


Kenma gasped, clenching around his digits. “That’s it.” Kuroo hummed, he rubbed his fingers against his nerves, over and over again. His other hand reached for his redden ass, squeezed his cheek hard, massaging it in his palm. It stung, but that pain mixed with the stimulation from his prostate, pleasure and pain, making his cock cry underneath him, dying to be touched. “Shit.” Kenma breathed out, his hips rutting without him even realizing it. He could feel Kuroo’s nails digging into ass when he gave a hard pinch, digits twisting inside him, “ Ah !” 


“That’s it. Feels heavenly , huh?”  Kuroo’s lips were at the nape of his neck, “Fucking into the bed like a desperate little thing. You’re so cute, Kenma.”

“Don’t talk down to me.” 


Kuroo laughed, his lips pressing a kiss to the junction of his neck and shoulder, “Why not? Every time I do your ass tries to swallow me whole. I know you like it.” Kuroo pressed down, flattening Kenma against the sheets with his body, made it impossible to for Kenma’s to fuck his hips anymore and whined bubbled out from his lips. Kuroo still thrusted his fingers, making sure every movement landed on those sweet, sweet nerves bundled inside Kenma. “I bet those sheets don’t feel as good as my ass would, though.” He said hotly, “But you’ve always got to talk back to me, so you’ll never know how good I feel.” 


“Fuck you.” Kenma gasped, toes curling as spots of white danced behind his eyelids. He could feel his orgasm building, like waves kissing the sand. With each lick of the ocean they got closer and closer, just like Kenma now. Every rut and tease of Kuroo’s fingers brought his arousal closer, bubbling up into a robust orgasm.


Kuroo leaned back, and then his hand came down on his ass, slapping him hard. Then again, and again. His fingers were still inside him as he brought his hand down, hitting the same spot over and over again. Tears were quickly building, and Kenma found himself crying, sobs falling from his lips between moans and gasps. Kuroo twitched his fingers, digging the pads of them over his prostate and Kenma came.


His orgasm tore through his body, making him twitch and shiver from head to toe. Kuroo squeezed his ass after the abuse he gave to it. It made pain rip through him, invading his pleasure. His chest was filled with his bubbling arousal, and the sharp pain from his asscheeks was bursting those bubbles before Kenma could thoroughly enjoy it all. Kuroo stole that pleasure from him, as a punishment.


“There we go.” Kuroo grinned, his fingers sliding out of him, leaving Kenma’s ass to flutter around nothing. He watched Kuroo take a seat at his side, and Kenma slumped into the bed, trying to catch his breath after his orgasm. “Now,” He pat his thighs, calling Kenma to him, leaning back on his hand to smirk down at him, “Be a good boy, and lay down.”


Kenma felt himself grinning, Kuroo’s eyes darkening, his own smirk growing more wicked in response. “I don’t think so.”


“I see.” Kuroo sighed, but he didn’t look annoyed in the slightest. He reached for the paddle, and pushed himself up, “Again, then. Until you break.”


It was going to take a while until Kenma was coaxed into the behavior Kuroo wanted, but that was the fun part, and they had a whole night ahead of them after all.

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


The music in the club was loud enough that Yoongi could feel it in his veins, that it was vibrating his heart, and drumming against his skull. The only solace he had was the bathroom, where it was eerily quiet. With the door shut, Yoongi was able to take a breath, and hear that earth shattering bass finally muffled, finally behind him. Clubs weren’t his scene, they were Hoseok’s, and Yoongi couldn’t deny his best friend. He just wished he wasn’t ditched within minutes, so Hoseok could get felt up by a couple on the dance floor, leaving Yoongi to stand stiffly, and be assaulted by a headache-inducing racket. He adored music, but this wasn’t for him.


He sighed and walked over to the sink, turning the faucet and cupping his hands under the icy water, bringing it up to face. He did that a few times, before he looked at himself in the mirror. He watched a droplet on the tip of his nose fall into the sink below, soon joined by more droplets clinging to his fringe. That’s when he heard it.


A shift and an obvious moan. It was quickly cut off by a hiss, and then something muffled. Yoongi looked through the mirror at the stalls, and saw legs, facing the door. Ah . He should have expected that, people fucking in a club, it wasn’t that weird. But Yoongi’s solace had been fractured, just like that. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. He heard another noise, a deep groan, guttural, and hungry. “Fuckin’ tight.” The person hissed, trying to be quiet, but failing miserably. They sounded… really hot.


Yoongi hesitated for a moment, stepping back from the counter, and closer to the stalls. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t but he stared, and with enough focus, he could hear it. The ruffling of clothes, a wet, slapping sound, muffled moans, bated breath.


Shit, when was the last time he was fucked as good as the person in that stall? He had no clue, but he… he missed it. He could feel warmth seeping into his skin, a hot fire of arousal licking up in his gut, flames expanding through his chest. He was getting turned on, and he shouldn’t be. He should just leave, he really can’t—


“God, love stuffing your little slut hole. Can’t take you anywhere, you needy whore.” One of the men groaned, and the door of the stall suddenly buckled with what must have been a hard thrust. Yoongi flinched, eyes widening and cock twitching to life. 


A whine followed it, not muffled, but loud and free, “Gguk, oh baby, please.” The second man's voice was deep, smooth but desperate. It wavered with his arousal and Yoongi could feel sweat along his hair line, could still hear the bass in the background, but now their fucking was echoing off the walls. It was invading Yoongi’s senses, but unlike the music, Yoongi was all about this . Did they think he left? Did they just… stop caring if he was here?  Yoongi’s feet brought him forward, and he focused his eyes through the cracks, where he saw two ppl together. “Gonna come.” The deep voiced man cried out, and he got a groan in response.


“I’ve barely used you. C’mon.”


Oh fuck. Yoongi reached down, fixing the forming tent in his shorts, and he licked his lips. He could see a sloped nose, and tanned skin. Dark, long fringe that was covering most of the man's face. It wasn’t enough of a look, and it only made Yoongi more curious. He was inching closer, when he shouldn’t be, when he should have left. He didn’t notice the abandoned bottle, and with his next step he kicked it, glancing down just in time to watch it roll under the stall, and tap against the man’s foot. Yoongi blinked, his eyes shooting up, and met the strangers through the crack.


He stared him down, Yoongi’s heart racing, the man’s eyes unwavering.


“Gguk, Gguk. Don’t stop. Why’d you stop?” The other man whined, and he saw a hand reach up, cupping Gguk’s face, trying to get his attention.


“We're being watched, babe.” He told him, and he shifted. Another pair of feet hit the ground, and now was time for Yoongi to run. But he couldn’t move. His feet were planted, his body was ice, betraying his begging brain. 


He saw someone else shifting in the stall, “I don’t give a fuck.” He said defiantly, and finally those eyes left him to look affectionately at the other man. Yoongi swallowed hard, and now he could move, taking a step backward. But before he could make a run for it the stall door swung open, and the men stepped out. They were about the same height, and looked about the same age. They both had longer styled hair, one was curled atop his head, while the other had it pulled back into a bun, his bangs covering some of his face. They were… hot.


Yoongi’s eyes were brought down to their disheveled clothes, the man whose eyes he met had tucked himself away, but didn’t bother zipping himself up, and his shirt was open, buttons undone and a sweat slicked chest shining in the fluorescent lighting.


Meanwhile, his friend, or boyfriend, or whoever was dressed much differently. He didn’t have dark clothes on, like his counterpart. Instead he was in a short, pleated skirt, that was yellow, paired with a sweater that hung off his shoulder. He had big dangling earrings, and a grin was pulling across his face, “Oh, you’re cute. Wow, he’s really cute.” The man looked at his partner, eyes shining.


Yoongi blinked once, then twice, “Uh…” He murmured, glancing at the mirror to his side. He was dressed in some black shorts, and a baggy graphic tee, beanie keeping his unkempt hair in place. He definitely wasn’t cute, or dressed for the club. But that was done on purpose, because he came here not wanting to be bothered, just to keep Hoseok company before he was whisked away and Yoongi could escape. “Sorry, I—”


“Did you like what you saw?” The man in the shirt asked, stepping forward and into Yoongi’s space. His hands tucked behind his back, but his face was still flushed. He was still hard, too, his skirt tented.


“I-I didn’t see anything. Not really.” Yoongi excused himself, shaking his head, “Sorry, I was just… I don’t know what I was doing. But I’m leaving now.” He took another step back, but his wrist was grabbed by the man.


He was smiling, almost innocently, but the darkness in his eyes told Yoongi he had other plans for him. “Why go? Staaaayy . Ggukkie and I don’t mind, you’re so cute. And hard... “ He motioned downward, where Yoongi was in fact hard.


Yoongi couldn’t. He couldn’t stay here, with two strangers, let them touch him and risk someone else walking in. That was crazy, that was the last thing he would do, and that wasn’t why he came here. He didn’t have time for something like this, besides, fucking strangers was danergous. The last thing Yoongi needed was trouble, and these men reeked of it.


“Were you thinking about me? Fucking me?” The man asked, and Yoongi blinked, his eyes meeting the man’s. His lashes were so thick, so beautiful. He batted them and Yoongi was put under a spell, “Or… did you want Ggukkie to fuck you? You can tell us…”


Yoongi swallowed down a thick lump in his throat, his eyes shyly moving over to the other man there, still standing at the stall door, watching them. “Oooh…” He heard a purr by his ear, and his face flushed, “Mmm… isn’t he so hot? Jeongguk’s got a beautiful cock too. Show him, baby.”


Without question, Jeongguk pulled out his cock, and it was stunning. Thick, and a wonderful length. There was a shining ring at the tip, and Yoongi had never seen a pierced cock in real life before. He felt his mouth water. “He knows just how to use it too. Fucks me so good.” The man was moving in closer, his hot breath tickling Yoongi ear, “I’ll let him fuck you, if you want. But you have to do something for me too, pretty boy.”


He glanced back at the man, meeting his eyes, and watching a toothy smile spread over his lips. “....What?”


“I didn’t get to finish… and I’m aching.” He brought Yoongi’s hand to the skirt, going right underneath it where he felt flesh; a hard, wet cock that Yoongi instinctively wrapped his fingers around. “Mmm, that’s right. Help me out, yeah? And I’ll let Ggukk fuck your pretty little ass ‘til you cry. I’m Taehyung, by the way.”


“I’ve never done something like this.” Yoongi murmured, his thumb swiping over the head of his cock. Taehyung laughed and stepped back, turning his back to him and twisting the lock on the door.


He walked back over to the sinks, and pulled himself up, sitting on the counter, “You just get cuter, and cuter. It’s okay, Gguk and I will take care of you.” Taehyung spread his legs, and pulled up his skirt, exposing his dark, flushed cock. “Come on and suck me off, let Gguk take care of the prep.”


He felt Jeongguk stepping closer and Yoongi moved in front of Taehyung, his face hot as he dropped onto his knees in front of him. He reached out to take his dick in hand and felt Jeongguk behind him, and heard him fall to his knees. “What’s your name?” Jeoonguk asked, his arms wrapping around Yoongi’s middle, lips connecting to the back of his neck. 


He sighed, eyes falling shut as he worked Taehyung’s cock, root to crown. “Yoongi.” He said, Jeongguk’s hands smoothing down to his shorts, tugging them down, leaving them at his knees.


“We don’t have condoms, Yoongi, but we’re clean. Is that okay?” Taehyung asked and Yoongi nodded. “Good boy.” He laughed softly, reaching down to take the base of his cock in hand, “And is there anything you don’t like? What we shouldn’t say, or do?”


Yoongi licked his lips, unsure of how to respond to that. Was there going to be things they did to him that he should know about? Should he just… go with it… he never did something so exciting. He lived a boring, dull life, but what kind of lives did Taehyung and Jeongguk live? And would it be so bad to get involved in their fun? “No… it’s fine. I just want to have fun.” He said honestly, and leaned forward, taking the head of Taehyung’s dick into his mouth.


Taehyung sighed softly, and his hand came down into his hair, petting through it, “We can do that.” He smiled down at him, before he looked to Jeongguk instead, and just then, Yoongi felt two wet fingers at his rim. It surprised him, but Taehyung guided his head further down his length, and one of Jeongguk’s fingers circled his rim.


This was real. This was happening. Yoongi almost couldn’t believe it, but as Jeongguk pressed a wet finger inside him, and Taehyung sighed softly, he was reminded this was very real. Jeongguk’s finger was thick, and it wasn’t long before a second was nudging at his hole, prodding inside him. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he should focus on that, or if he should pay more attention to the weight of Taehyung’s cock in his mouth. Yoongi felt a bit helpless, like he was hovering, being picked at.


He was barely moving. Taehyung’s grip had tightened on his hair, and he was being guided over his length. Jungkook’s knuckles were at his rim, fingers thrusting in and out fluidly. Yoongi felt like he was melting, and with a quick realization he noted he was just… being used. By two stupidly hot strangers. It wasn’t even a fantasy of his before now, it was never something he thought about, because he never thought this situation could ever be real . He never thought that people could want him like this.


He groaned as Jeongguk worked a third finger, and Taenhyung mirrored the nose, his head falling back against the mirror as he pulled Yoongi down further on his cock. The very tip of it breached his throat, and Yoongi sputtered, Taehyung’s grip tightening for a moment before he let Yoongi pull off to catch himself. “You’re doing so good.” Taehyung purred at him, petting his hair as Yoongi coughed, and wiped at his mouth.


Jeongguk’s finger left him all at once, and his lips were tracing the shell of Yoongi’s ear, “Can I fuck you now?” He asked, breath fanning over his ear and the side of his face. Yoongi pressed his lips together to stop a whine from escaping.


Taehyung’s hand slid from his hair, down his face where he could easily thumb at his lips, forcing them apart, “Ah, ah, ah.” He chided softly, “Communication is key, baby. We gotta hear it.”


Yoongi moaned softly as he felt the head of Jeongguk’s cock at his rim, and he glanced back over his shoulder to look at him. Jeongguk looked just as hungry as Taehyung did, eyes shining with lust, and the corners of his mouth tilted up in a little smirk. Yoongi felt like he was going to be devoured by these two strange, wonderful men. And he was ready to let go. “F-Fuck me.” He said to Jeongguk, and within moments he groaned, his hands reaching and clinging to the end of the counter as he was stretched over a girthy shaft.


Jeongguk’s dick was pretty, that was no lie, but it felt even better than it looked. That piercing . It was cold at his rim, a strange sensation, and when pressed inside he could still feel it. It made thrill pulse through his veins, a new sensation that drove him wild.


Taehyung took hold of his jaw again, tilting it up so Yoongi’s eyes would be on him instead. His cock was in his hand, his fist slowly working over his length. “Don’t be selfish now, we made a deal.” Yoongi opened his mouth obediently, as if something like this was second nature, and Taehyung purred as he inched forward on the sink counter and brought his dick to Yoongi pink, doll-like lips. Taehyung hopped off the counter entirely, his hands moving to the back of Yoongi’s head as his hips snapped into his warm, wet mouth.


Both his holes were being fucked. He was being yanked, and tugged at greedily. Jeongguk’s nails biting at his hips as he fucked him with powerful thrusts that jerked Yoongi’s whole body. Meanwhile, Taehyung was  stuffing his throat, each movement of his hips brought him deeper, and deeper into his throat, his hands forcing Yoongi’s head to bob with every moment. And Yoongi was left to take. His hands gripping the counter so tight that his knuckles were white. His cock was hard, and standing unattended, and drooling.


He could touch himself, of course. He could probably come within seconds of cradling his pathetic cock. The problem was, he was already struggling on what pleasure to focus on. The hard pistoning of Jeongguk’s powerful hips, and the repeated slide over his prostate. Versus the suffocating length of Taehyung’s cock driving further down his throat, and his pretty, whiny noises he let out as he looked down at Yoongi as if he was nothing more than a toy to get pleasure from. It wasn’t a lie. Yoongi felt like a used, dirty toy, and he loved that. Touching himself right now would be too much, leave him too overstimulated. Yoongi already found himself in a cloudy haze of arousal, he might pass out if he added anymore to the list. So for now, his cock stayed abandoned. It had to. 


Taehyung let out a particularly loud noise, really unconcerned as to whether or not they were heard. Of course this time, he took the precaution of locking the door. “God.” He groaned, and Yoongi heard Jeongguk follow him, echoing his moan as he pressed even closer to Yoongi’s body. “Gonna come down that tight little throat, Yoongi.” Taehyung warmed him, his fingers tightening on his locks, curling into fists before he stuffed his entire length into his mouth. Yoongi’s nose brushed Taehyung’s curled mess of hair circling the base of his cock before he felt the release of hot, thick come from Taehyung’s twitching shaft.


He squeezed his eyes shut, sluttering on his dick, his hands moving to push Taehyung’s hips away from him, freeing his throat from the assault. Yoongi coughed, and choked, the bitter taste of come rising back into his throat and mouth. “That wasn’t very nice, I made that for you, y’know.” Taehyung complained as Yoongi spit out the contents in his mouth on the dirty floor.


He felt ashamed for a second, as if letting this strange down was some wrongdoing. But he also burned, that same arousal flaring up in his gut at the idea that he disobeyed a man he didn’t even know. Jeongguk groaned hotly against his ear before he took it between his teeth, reminding Yoongi was still there. With a hard thrust right on his prostate, Yoongi’s body writhed with pleasure. 


“What do we do about this?” Taehyung asked, resting his hands on the sink counter behind him, leaning back on the as he lifted his foot, nudging at Yoongi’s stiff shaft. “It’s practically crying for attention. You’re so cute, I think I’ll forgive you for spitting up my gift.”


Yoongi whined, his hips kicking to rut into Taehyung’s dirty boot, a free form of friction to give some relief to his whining dick. Jeongguk pulled him back onto his cock, holding his hips firmly so he could continue the harsh, unwavering pace into his ass. This man was fucking Taehyung before him, and now he was still plowing away at Yoongi’s guts like it was nothing .


“He’s trained well.” Taehyung answered, as if he could read Yoongi’s mind. He leaned down, and wiped a stray tear that fell from the corner of Yoongi’s eye, “Our daddy let us play lots so Ggukkie could work up his stamina. He can fuck you in this dirty bathroom for hours , honey. Make it so you can’t use your legs and you’ll be left waiting for the next sorry fuck to stumble in and find you.”


Yoongi hiccuped, another tear rolling down his round cheeks as Taehyung smiled at him. “Pl-Please. I’m… I’m…” He gasped as Jeongguk’s hands wrapped around his middled, and pulled their bodies flushed together, Yoongi’s ass practically in his lap now. “Oh, fuck .”


“You gotta beg Gguk to come, not me. If you ask him nicely, he’ll fill you up. Might even make your little belly swell, ‘cause you’re so small.” He didn’t know if Taehyung was trying to rile him up, or just tease him. Make a joke out of him. But regardless of what he meant to do, it just made Yoongi feel hotter, made him that much closer to his arousal, regardless of the fact he was virtually untouched right now. But that ended in seconds when Taehyung crouched down, and grabbed his cock, stroking over it at a torturous pace, the opposite of the one Jeongguk set for him. 


Yoongi let out a slew of curse words, mumbly complete nonsense, babbling. He felt like his dick was going to melt off, and the purposeful drags of Jeongguk’s well trained cock were driving him mad, into insanity. “Please.” He murmured, his head falling back on Jeongguk’s shoulder, “Please… please, no more. I have to come so bad, it can’t take anymore.”


Jeongguk tilted his head, responding with a hard thrust that made Yoongi’s hips twitch, and all the oxygen left his lungs. “You have to do better than that.” Taehyung scolded him, his thumb swiping over the tip of Yoongi’s dick, collecting the precum and working that back over his length for an easier slide


“Please. Jeongguk, please.” Yoongi gasped into his neck. He felt a falter in Jeongguk’s hips, the first time it happened since the start of this. “You can come inside him, as much as you need to, but I can’t take it anymore. I-It’s so hot, Jeongguk. Think I’m melting.” He heard Taehyung cooing, and whined as his fist picked up pace, “You fuck me so good, promise you did such a good job, now please—”


Jeongguk groaned again, ducking his head and nipping down hard on Yoongi’s bottom lip as his hips pistoned hard into his ass, the type of thrusts that jerked Yoongi’s entire body, making new tears sprung up in their wake. But after a few hard fucks, Yoongi felt Jeongguk’s cock spill hot release inside, and with a flick of Taehyung’s wrist, Yoongi was spilling into his hand, clenching around Jeongguk’s still hard cock. He laid against him, both he and Jeongguk panting as Taehyung stood up and washed his hands clean, and all too happy hum on his lips.


After a few moments, Jeongguk helped Yoongi stand on wobbling knees, and Taehyung pressed a kiss to his partner's cheek. He crouched down, and Yoongi watched Taehyung’s mouth wrap around Jeongguk’s cock, sucking him clean of lube, and come. Yoongi flushed, despite everything that happened and pulled his shorts up, washing his own hands. He could feel the trickle of come at his hole, and lube drying on his cheeks and thighs. But he wasn’t using a sandpaper-like paper towel to clean himself up. Heading home and showering sounded like a better blame. But… How to say goodbye to these two?


He jumped when he felt breath against his ear, and turned to see Taehyung’s smiling face. He hadn’t noticed when he got close, but Jeongguk was behind him. “How was that? Fun enough for you?”


Yoongi glanced away from him, down at where the soap was disappearing from his hands under the rush of water. “Yeah.” He answered, his face hot, “Really fun.” He said truthfully, even if he could feel the embarrassment swelling in his cheek.


Taehyung giggled, and looked back at Jeongguk before he turned his attention to Yoongi again. “Glad we could help.” He all but sang, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek, “If you ever miss us, you know where to find us.” He thrusted his thumb at the stall he and Jeongguk were hiding away in, and Yoongi’s face warmed hotter before he nodded his head. Taehyung smiled wider, before he stepped past him and toward the door.


Jeongguk was left at his side, and Yoongi shyly glanced up at him, before he felt a warm hand at the small of his back. Jeongguk leaned in slowly, obviously more careful and thoughtful in his actions than his counterpart, and he pressed a soft, warm kiss to Yoongi’s parted lips. His tongue barely grazed the seam of his mouth, and Yoongi felt his stomach swoop. “I hope I see you again.” Jeongguk said softly, and offered a warm, affectionate smile like the one he gave Taehyung. And with that, the two left, Taehyung calling a loud goodbye as the bathroom door swung shut.


Well, shit. Yoongi might just be in love. 

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


Something that was both addicting and infuriating about Atsumu were his eyes. He was expressive, easy to read. The coy, smugness of a good move that would prove his talent, or the soft, shining vulnerability in a moment like this. A moment where Kiyomi held everything in his hands. Power was another thing. He liked control, and order. It brought with it a special kind of satisfaction that he didn’t get anywhere else, at least, not until he got involved with Atsumu. 


The reality was, Kiyomi probably shouldn’t be involved with the other man. They were teammates, co-workers, and most of all; opposites. Any messy moment, or misunderstanding could bleed onto the court and ruin a well established team. To his surprise, Atsumu was good at keeping things professional, and leaving their business in their respective apartments. But Kiyomi even felt hesitant to give him that compliment, because of moments like this .


Moments where he got daring, where he decided to be a brat, and push Kiyomi’s buttons. All because he was a masochist. Or because he liked watching Kiyomi get worked up, honestly, it could even be both.


But that didn’t mean he wasn’t beautiful while he did it. 


They had been fucking long enough to know what the other liked. Screwing for a length of time meant that Atsumu knew what button to push to piss him off, and he was doing it now. He pulled off Kiyomi’s cock with a glint in his eyes, a trail of salvia following because he had drooled enough on his cock to fill a milk cartoon. It felt good, but Kiyomi still shuddered at the sight of it. Not disgusted, but visibly troubled by the mess. And then Atsumu dared to pucker his lips and spit on his dick, as if he needed anymore lube. “You fucking…” Kiyomi warned softly, watching Atsumu’s eyes shine with glee.


“What, Omi?” He all but preened, wrapping his sinful lips around the girth of his cock, bobbing his head low enough to take his entire length like it was nothing. Kiyomi slid into his throat with a gasp, and felt the tight, wet walls twitch and tighten around him as Atsumu swallowed. Atsumu pulled off him, pressing his tongue against the slit in his head, “Ya sound so pretty. Drives me wild.” His words were purred out affectionately, and Atsumu’s lips cradled his dick, slowly inching down this time, his hand fisting and stroking over the rest of his length.


Kiyomi’s hands moved into his blonde locks, and he shoved him down, forcing him to take his cock entirely. “I like it better when you can’t speak.” He grunted as he kicked his hips further, felt Atsumu’s nose in the perfectly trimmed hair surrounding the base of his shaft. He could feel the way Atsumu choked around his dick at the sudden movement, it made a soft sigh escape his lips. With that, he used Atsumu’s mouth to his fill. His mouth moved easily over him, thanks to the disgusting way Atsumu lubed him up. He easily found himself lost in a pace, holding Atsumu head still with his hands as his hips kicked selfishly. Kiyoomi could feel Atsumu’s hands on his thighs, nails digging slightly into his skin, but not hard enough to give warning that he might need a breath or a break.


Kiyoomi could feel his breaths leaving his nose, tickling the sensitive skin at his groan, and his thighs. For such a cocky bastard, Atsumu knew when he should shut up and take. Every little noise the setter could be making was muffled by Kiyoomi, was lost to them, to the world. Atsumu sounded heavenly when he was being fucked, maybe a little too loud for Kiyoomi’s taste, but still delicious. The tiniest part of him was ashamed that he couldn’t hear them right now. But at the very least, he was blessed in feeling them. Each groan, or whimper sending a vibration to his cock, furthering his pleasure.


Kiyoomi was brought to the height of his arousal, as it boiled over he yanked hard on Atsumu’s hair, pulling him off his shaft. Atsumu gasped for a breath of air, panted like a glutton, and hissed when Kiyoomi tugged on his hair again, angling his face up. “That’s it.” He smirked, his other hand taking his dick in hand. Atsumu's teeth were grit from the tug of his hair, one of his eyes shut, a wonderful start for his painting.


Kiyoomi came in just a few tugs, messily spilling over Atsumu’s face, a groan leaving his lips. He wouldn’t typically do something like this, but Atsumu started the filthy behavior on his own. Kiyoomi justified the strange behavior as Atsumu’s terrible influence.


Even so, he had to admit Atsumu looked pretty when his face was covered in Kiyoomi’s seed. The way he flinched at the initial impact, and then how he seemed to settle into the sensation, and even parted his lips for Kiyoomi. It drove him absolutely wild . In a way only Miya Atsumu could manage. It was Kiyoomi’s turn to be left panting, his grip on Atsumu’s colored locks lifting as he came down from the high that was his orgasm. His knees felt weak just looking at Atsumu below him, tongue peaking out to lick at some of Kiyoomi’s release on his upper lip. He was a menace


“Not too bad.” Atsumu said, lifting his hand to wipe over the back of his mouth. He had that irritating look in his eyes, the one that was quick to agitate Kiyoomi, even from the deep cloud of bliss he was settling into. “For a minute there, I thought you were mad because I made a mess, but that couldn’t be it. You’re not a hypocrite? I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, Omi, and we can call it a simple mistake.” Kiyoomi wasn’t sure if he hallucinated the wink or not, but either way Atsumu sealed his fate.


Kiyoomi leaned down, reaching again for his hair and giving a sharp tug, his dick twitching at Atsumu’s whimper, that was suspiciously mixed with a moan. “Not too bad?” He questioned, watching a smile grace Atsumu’s face, like pissing Kiyoomi off was the greatest reward he could get. “Sorry, not filthy enough?” He all but spit the words out between his teeth, watching Atsumu laugh breathily, twisting his head defiantly to look at Kiyoomi.


“I was going to say; That's all you got? But apparently you’re easy to rile up today.”


Kiyoomi felt it, something deep, deep inside him snapped. Like a pathetic twig between his fingers. He pulled Atsumu closer, and grabbed his cock again, stuffing it back into Atsumu’s mouth. He hissed when his teeth dragged over him, nicking the head of his dick, but he ignored it in favor of stuffing himself back into his throat as a form of punishment. “If you’re going to be a greedy, filthy whore , Miya.” Kiyoomi growled out, watching Atsumu’s eyes roll back as Kiyoomi pistoned his hips into his mouth. He pulled out to the crown of his length just to thrust back in, again and again, Atsumu clinging to his thighs as if he was begging for his life, “I should have known something like that wouldn’t keep you sated . You’re like a starved mutt, one serving is not enough.”


“Mm.. ‘ss nawtt.” He could barely make out as Atsumu slurred over his cock, drooling down his chin, his come drying on his face. Getting flakey, and uncomfortable no doubt.


Kiyoomi didn’t know exactly what Atsumu needed, but he knew he could come with ease a second time. His cock was back to life, Atsumu’s throat felt tighter than before, he looked so precious. Cheeks flushed, eyes shining with tears, his mouth wide open allowing Kiyoomi to use him. Atsumu looked fucked out without ever having his ass played with, he really would let Kiyoomi fuck whatever hole he wanted. Ah, it was so addicting. It didn’t take long for Kiyoomi to get worked up to his arousal again, and he saw Atsumu’s hand at his groin, palming at the tent in his boxers. Usually Kiyoomi might stop him from doing that, but this time he let it go.


When he came a second time, he kept his cock buried in Atsumu’s throat, felt the constriction as Atsumu swallowed around him. Let himself be vocal with his noises, because it felt so good . He didn’t want Atsumu getting smug about how good he was making Kyoomi feel but when his throat was that tight Kiyoomi couldn’t help but groan his name as he came down his throat. He pulled back, sighing softly, a tickling urge in his abdomen to use the bathroom, sensitivities that came from coming twice in a row.


What didn’t help was Atsumu’s need to still suckle at his cock, like he was trying to get a taste of every last drop that Kiyoomi had. But the sensation was just too much for him right now. He reached down for his dick, wrapping his fingers around the base as he leaned away. “Too much.” He hissed out, watching Atsumu’s lips purse into a pout. “Don’t even. I’ve got nothing left right now. Take a breather while I use the bathroom. Then I’ll deal with you.” He reached down to ruffle Atsumu’s hair before he pulled back, but was alarmed when Atsumu grabbed his hips, holding him in his spot.


Kiyoomi looked down at him in confusion, but almost immediately the dark flush on his cheeks, and furrow of his brows let Kiyoomi know Atsumu wanted something. Something he must have felt embarrassed about because his expression said it all; a muted frustration. Kiyoomi tilted his head in question and Atsumu let out the tiniest little huff, his eyes darting away from Kiyoomi’s, “I’m still not…” He mumbled, Kiyoomi waiting on the edge of his words, “I still want more.” He said instead, except his words didn’t help Kiyoomi in the slightest.


“I’ll give you more when I get back. Stop acting like a brat.” He complained softly, no malice in his voice. He went to pull away again but Atsumu held on firmly, “Atsumu.” He warned, this time glaring down at him. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, and while his behavior was… sort of cute, it wasn’t helping him figure out what it was what Atsumu needed. And he really had to piss. “You have to talk to me.”


“Ya… didn’t…” Atsumu looked physically pained to speak, “Ya didn’t… come on my face again.” He managed to say, “I wanted it on my face.. I really like when ya just.. when ya make me… when ya—” He was struggling to find his words, but Kiyoomi got it.


He couldn’t help his smirk, “You like when I make you feel dirty, huh?” Atsumu perked up, just the slightest. And while he tried to keep his eyes away from him, Kiyoomi could still see the shine in them. Kiyoomi hit the nail on it’s head. “Don’t worry, I can still do that. No one said our night has to end here. I’ll be back.” 


Atsumu let out a groan, frustrated and loud, “No—that’s not.” Kiyoomi was entirely at a loss now, unsure of what to say or do, or Atsumu took it upon himself. He leaned up, lifting himself from his seated position so he was back to kneeling. Without warning, he licked at the head of Kiyoomi’s dick, looking up at him as wrapped his lips around him, sucking hard enough to make Kiyoomi see stars.


But it was more than the stars. There was a burning sensation in his abdomen, a clear sign that he needed to piss, and he needed to do it as soon as possible. While Atsumu's mouth felt like heaven on Earth, this wasn’t the time. “Atsumu, I have to piss, give me a minute.”


“I know that. Dumbass.” Atsumu spit back, and his hand slid up, his thumb pressing into the skin right above his bladder. Kiyoomi shivered at the sensation, the pressure right where   he was aching. He moaned, completely subconsciously, he almost spilled into Atsumu’s mouth. Had to collect himself quick enough that it almost felt like whiplash. 


I know that. Atsumu had said. He knew Kiyoomi had to piss, and here he was, his tongue cradling Kiyoomi’s length, licking up his cock, suckling on his tip, looking up at him like a sin incarnated. Kiyoomi thought he might be delusional for a second. Because Atsumu couldn’t mean… there was no way he was suggesting… he must have eaten something bad and this was some twisted dream. He spoke, without permission, “You want my piss?” He was dumbfounded, he even watched Atsumu wince below him, face scrunching up like hearing the words out loud, hearing the accusation was too much.


“When ya put it like that…” 


“How else am I supposed to put it?”


Atsumu’s hand wrapped around his cock, and his thumb pressed back to the spot over his abdomen, massaging it endlessly. He was making it hard to keep composed, to keep himself restrained. He sucked hard, his tongue pressing against the slit of Kiyoomi’s dick before he rolled it over his tip. Kiyoomi’s hands found their way back to his hair, all but shaking as Atsumu gave endless stimulation to his cock. Did he really want Kiyoomi to… to piss? In his mouth? On his body? This wasn’t something he ever thought about, he ever had the desire to do. Was it something Atsumu thought about? And why in the world did that sound so appealing right now? “Yer the one that called me filthy.” Atsumu reminded him as he pulled off his dick, a string of salvia still connecting him to it for a moment, “Don’t ya want to know how filthy I am?” He lowered when he spoke, his words sensual, his cock twitching in Atsumu’s hand.


Kiyoomi felt like his brain was melting out of his ears, anything holding him back from doing something so foul and disgusting was quickly melting away. “Filthy enough to be soaked in my piss?” He asked, watching the corner of Atsumu’s mouth twitch up, “To drink it?”


“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” He hummed softly, sticking out his tongue as he licked a stripe up the length of his cock. He was teasing him, but at the same time, doing nothing of the sort. Kiyoomi could see it in his eyes; Atsumu really wanted this. He wanted Kiyoomi to piss on him.


He was really grateful they weren’t in his apartment. Because the mess this was going to make was something he couldn’t ever live down.


Kiyoomi reached for the base of his cock, guiding it back into Atsumu’s mouth. Again . He could let Atsumu suck him off for hours, blowjobs from him were that good, toe curling sorts of satisfying. Atsumu’s thumb pressed back against his abdomen as he began to bob his head diligently. This time, when the aching need bubbled up, Kiyoomi tried his best to ignore the instinct of restraining himself. He let himself go after a moment, a low sigh escaping his lips as he released into Atsumu’s mouth.


He couldn’t imagine it tasted good, but the way Atsumu’s eyes glossed over made Kiyoomi shiver, and then he saw the bob of his throat and felt lightheaded. This was a level of filth Kiyoomi wasn’t trying to insinuate, this type of filth wasn’t at all what he meant. But then another thought popped into his head; Atsumu just wanted anything and everything Kiyoomi would give him . He was whore… but for Kiyoomi . And while he never felt particularly possessive because it wasn’t the nature of their relationship, this changed things dramatically. Atsumu wanted him this badly.


He coaxed every drop from him. Kiyoomi could feel the way his tongue was curled around the underside of his cock, the way his fist pumped over his length until he was sure Kiyoomi was entirely done before he went back to just… sucking him off. Bobbing his head over his length, lashes fluttering as he shut his eyes. Kiyoomi was overstimulated to the point where Atsumu's mouth almost hurt. He had to stop him, holding his head in place as he took a step back. “You’re fucking insane.” He said, hating how small he sounded. His voice cracked, betraying him and pissing him off, he wanted to sound firmer than that but in a moment like this he supposed it couldn’t be helped.


“Maybe. But I don’t hear ya complaining.” Atsumu replied with ease, like he was equipped to banter at all times. Kiyoomi blamed his brother. Growing up with a twin prepared him for this and he despised that. He watched Atsumu wipe the back of his mouth off, his eye twitching in response, reminding him of what that mouth had just done. “Ya gonna take care of me now? Ya said you would.”


Kiyoomi scoffed, reaching out for Atsumu’s arms, and pulling him up so he was standing, “I’m not doing shit with you until you go scrub yourself clean. I know you’re going to try and kiss me.” 


“I just took such good care of ya and yer going to be like that?” Atsumu’s lips pursed into a pout, but Kiyoomi didn’t waver, narrowing his eyes further.


“When you drink my piss, yeah, I’m going to be like that.”


Atsumu seemed to pause, his mouth twisting to the side before a smile broke onto his lips, “When ya put it like that…” He laughed softly, “All rightie. I got ya. But, can ya at least tell me ya thought it was hot first?” 


Kiyoomi raised a brow, “If you push me even an inch further I’m going to leave you to jerk off by yourself. So if you want to fuck me, brush your god damn teeth, Miya. Triple the usual time you’d spend.” 


“Aw, Omi.” Atsumu was back to pouting, but he still stepped around Kiyoomi, heading to the bathroom attached to his bedroom, “Ya could at least keep callin’ me Atsumu.” He mumbled under his breath as he disappeared and the sink turned on.


Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, but sat down at the edge of Atsumu’s bed. He did find it hot. In some weird, twisted way his curiosity was piqued. He was certain he would be reliving this moment, again and again. He had no clue where it would lead to after this, but he was interested…


Miya Atsumu was a bastard. But a beautiful one. 

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“He looks like he wants to cry.” The humor in Izuku’s voice is anything but lighthearted. Maybe if it’s overheard by someone, they might think it’s all fun and games. But there’s a darkness in his eyes that makes Katsuki’s cock twitch against his better judgement. He doesn’t know what it is, if it’s seeing his childhood friend lose that innocence, or maybe he’s just a sick, twisted pervert.


But he definitely isn’t close to crying.


“It’s a shame I can’t see his face.” Shouto says beneath him, hot puffs of his breath fan over the back of his neck and ear. Katsuki shivers in response, his lips parting in a silent cry as Shouto bucks his hips, driving his cock deeper in his ass. 


He’s currently laying atop Shouto chest, his arms around him, and Izuku sitting on his knees above the both of them, teasing and torturing Katsuki like some sicko. “It almost makes me sad .” Katsuki manages out, his glare aimed directly at Izuku who tilts his head, “Thinking I’d break this easily. This is nothing.” 


Izuku’s mouth twists to the side, frowning down at Katsuki, his fingers gently cradling his cock in his hand, “Kacchan, didn’t I ask you to be polite around Todoroki? The only reason I’m letting him fuck you is to show him what a good boy you can be.” Izuku tightens his grip on Katsuki’s cock as he speaks, making the blonde see stars as his head rolls back against their friend’s shoulder. He’s too damn close to the edge for this. “Please don’t misbehave.”


Katsuki’s really tired of this shit. When Izuku first brought up the idea of a threesome with Shouto, his interest was piqued. Izuku is always possessive, since they were kids, throughout high school, and now as adults—heroes of society and Izuku still felt the need to control, and claim. Not that Katsuki minds that. He has to admit Izuku’s aching need for control is hot, and slowly breaking down that shy exterior to see him get more dominant in the bedroom is Katsuki's favorite past time. But this isn’t a threesome… this is Shouto and Izuku doing whatever they please with him.


“It’s okay, Midoriya.” Shouto soothes, trying to calm him down. His hands slide up Katsuki’s chest, settling on his breasts, giving firm squeezes. “I don’t mind him acting out. It’s charming.”


“Charming?” Katski nearly gags, he squirms, tugging on the silk rope that had him bound to their headboard, “You think it’s charming ?” He scoffs, laughing under his breath but that laughter is quickly silenced with a sharp thrust that lands on his prostate. Katsuki shivers, mouth falling open as he cries. He’s trying his hardest not to make a sound, to have both these men working harder for him than he is for them, but he’s in a more vulnerable position than he realizes. 


Izuku’s fingers slide into his mouth while Katsuki’s lips are parted, his other hand squeezed his balls to prevent him from coming. Katsuki’s exhausted. This is the third orgasm that’s been blocked and his dick hurts. Katsuki tries to voice his complaints around Izuku’s fingers, but instead they slide deeper into his throat, and he leans down over him. “Todoroki might be more forgiving of your behavior, but no one likes a good for nothing brat.” His words are harsh, and Katsuki chokes around his digits as Izuku forces them into his throat, slowly, and painfully fucking them in and out. Shouto is doing that too. Rocks of his hips, moving the three of them steady against each other. And yet, Katsuki gets no friction to his cock where he desperately needs it. “You’re so pretty, though.” Izuku’s eyes soften, and Shouto’s hands squeezed his tits again.


“The prettiest.” He repeats and Katsuki feels like his entire body is on fire. But then, he also feels cold. Stimulation of both senses confused him until he realizes exactly where he’s feeling them. Shouto’s fingers. Nudging, and pinching his swollen nipples; it’s his quirk. Hot flames dance on one of the pink buds, while the other is freezing over, frost making the already firm nipple ache even more painfully as he insists on playing with them.


“St-Stop.” He gasps as Izuku removes his fingers, clenching down on Shouto’s cock, hearing a choked groan leave his lips. His dick is leaking, precum drooling down his shaft. It’s desperately red, and angry for attention.


Shouto just gropes his chest hard, his quirk still active, Katsuki’s skin starting to burn, both from fire and ice. “I’m only doing as you asked…  you said we weren’t doing enough.”


Nothing was the exact wording, I think.” Izuku chimes in, his fat cock in hand as he jerks himself off. Izuku had yet to fuck him, and Katsuki really wants to know what it would be like to be stretched on both their dicks. But he’s definitely not asking for it. “Kacchan, you don’t have to be shy about being slutty. I already know how much you love it.” 


Shouto’s teeth nip at Katsuki’s shoulder, his hands sliding back down to his hips, holding them firm as he starts to fuck up into him hard. “Show me just how much of a slut you are, Bakugou.” He murmurs against his skin. Izuku rises above them, on his knees to take the extra weight off their bodies so Shouto can get a nice, hard pace going.


Izuku reaches Katsuki’s dick then, wrapping both his hands around them, pressing their hard lengths together. As Shouto fucks up into him, Izuku jerks, and grinds their cocks together. It’s slick on both ends, and Katsuki feels his muscles grow taut as he arches. He’s right there again, the right amount of stimulation to his dick, and over his prostate. He can see the white dots, flashes of light and ecstasy as his orgasm rises over the horizon. And then there’s a hard squeeze to his balls.


Katsuki cries. The tears well up and fall without consent and he even chokes on a sob as his orgasm slips through his fingers. Izuku’s hand on his balls is the culprit, ending another chance at sweet relief for him. But just seconds later. blinking through his tears and trying to catch his breath, he feels a hot, thick seed filling in insides. Shouto squeezes his hips, nails biting into them as he finishes. There’s a few lackluster thrusts he gets out before he slacks on the bed underneath him, and Izuku has a sort of dopey smile on his lips as he watches them.


“Let me come.” Katsuki demands, his eyes narrowed on Izuku who then focuses on him, “Just let me come already.”


Izuku’s mouth screws to the side, and he shrugs his shoulders, “Why should I? I don’t think you’ve earned it, Kacchan.”


He wants to scream. It’s all he can think about doing, but instead all he does is pull hard on the silk trapping him in the bed. The frame moans in anguish at Katsuki’s strength, but it doesn’t give in. Shouto is shifting beneath him, sliding out from under Katsuki, letting his back hit the mattress, Izuku climbing right back into his hips to sit atop him.


Katsuki glances over, watching Shouto sip his water, before he fixes his hair that is tied back. He’s pushing the few fallen strands of hair back, and he looks stupidly flawless doing it. “You done?” He scoffs at him, watching as Shouto glances over at him, his eyes disinterested, “You’re just gonna give two mediocre trusts, come like some virgin bitch, and walk away? That’s your fill?” What kind of threesome is this? Katsuki’s confused, concerned, and he wants to come. Why in the hell did Shouto get to come before him? What kind of sense did that make?


“Are you insinuating I’m lazy?” Shouto asks, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stretched it out, “That’s rich.” 


“You’re the one that hasn’t done anything for us, Kacchan…” Izuku murmurs above him, his hand still lazily playing with his own cock.


Katsuki looks at them both, completely dumbfounded, “I’m tied up , you morons!”


Shouto allows a smile to grace his face, and he crawls back into bed, kneeling beside Katsuki’s head, “I bet you could get out of those measly restraints without even working up a sweat.” He takes his cock into his hand, and then Katsuki’s head in the other as he sits up. Katsuki keeps his lips shut, and Shouto’s dick just rubs against them. It’s the only protest he thinks of in the moment, his own way to fight back against their unfairness.


“Kacchan.” Izuku hisses, scolding him like he’s some pet. Shouto doesn’t seem to mind, just ruts his cock over his closed mouth, and against his cheeks. It makes Katsuki flush, Shouto is entirely uncaring about how it looks, or feels for Katsuki, he’s just using him as he pleases. But a second later, Katsuki dick is being squeezed, a thumb pressing hard against the slit in the crown of his shaft and he gasps. Shouto moves quickly as he stuffs himself into the warmth of Katsuki’s mouth. “There we go… you’re ridiculous, I swear.” Izuku complains, and reaches for Katsuki’s chest, massaging his breasts in his hands, “Such a bad boy.”


“Bad boys don’t get to come.” Shouto replies, and Izuku gives a nod, confirming his words. Katsuki thinks he might pass out. His dick has never hurt this badly before, he can’t even touch himself, he has nothing to rut against. Izuku is putting himself between Katsuki’s tits, while Shouto is shallowly fucking his mouth, enjoying the texture of his tongue and his inner cheeks, all the while Katsuki is left with nothing . He feels tears fall again, sniffling around Shouto’s dick, barely able to catch his breath as his sobs are muffled.


Both Izuku and Shouto were panting both him, indulging and enjoying their own pleasures as Katsuki was left there. nothing to do but be taken, and used. Shouto spunk leaking out of his hole, a gross reminder of what he was to his friend, and his boyfriend. This… this was about their pleasure. This wasn’t about Katsuki.


Shouto had said he didn’t do anything for them. So… then effort? Is that how he got his orgasm? Did Shouto and Izuku agree Katsuki needs to earn his release? Katsuki’s unsure of that, but it’s his only lead. It’s the only thing he can try in order to come, and he needs to. He’s aching, his dick was likely swollen, and red, and if Izuku stops another orgasm of his he isn’t sure he could recover, or hell, even forgive him.


So, he puts in effort where he can. Shouto’s not fucking his throat, just leisurely working his hips in and out of his mouth, so Katsuki starts there, starts to follow his movements, bobbing his head over Shouto’s length, curling his tongue around his cock to give him extra stimulation. The position isn’t desirable for him, but Shouto lets out a groan, his fingers tightening their grip in his hair, and that lets Katsuki know what he’s doing is right. He doesn’t stop, just keeps sucking on Shouto’s shaft, hollows out his cheek for added texture and even he feels good when Shouto lets out another low groan, sinking deeper into his mouth. “Just like that.” He praises and Katsuki’s chest feels like it might burst open.


“Feel good?” Izuku asks, Katsuki’s gaze shifts, looking through the corners of his eyes at Izuku. He still fucking his tits, making the most out of it, his hips twitching in a way that Katsuki’s familiar with. “Isn’t he good at that?”


Shouto nods, petting back his untamed blonde hair, scratching lightly at his shaved undercut, “It feels like my dick is melting. Fuck .” Hearing Shouto swear is like a blessing. The man’s rarely ever vulgar, and knowing he’s making Shouto feel that way is a pleasure all in itself.


Izuku hums lowly, squeezing Katsuki’s tits firmly, pressing them harder together as he pistons his hips. “When he’s good, he's ridiculously good.” He says, and Shouto nods his head in agreement.


“He’s also beautiful when he cries. Gonna make me come.” Shouto breathes out under his breath, and Izuku is quick to nod his head in agreement. Izuku comes just moments later, cock twitching between Katsuki’s tits before he spills out over his collarbone and his neck. He slumps some, whining as he releases. Sounds Katsuki is all familiar with, and it just turns him on further, his hips twitching and bucking into absolutely nothing. “Wait your turn. Don’t get distracted.” Shouto reminds him as Izuku pants, still on the high from his orgasm.


Katsuki listens, even though in the back of his mind he clearly believes it’s his turn. Shouto came, Izuku came, it should be him now . But he doesn’t try to voice his complaints, instead he swallows around Shouto’s cock, continuing to bob his head, to press his tongue against the crown of his length, suckling on the sensitive spot Shouto’s got just below the tip. When Shouto finally does come, he pulls himself from Katsuki’s mouth. Still, Katsuki opens wide, and sticks his tongue out, only catching some of Shouto’s release on it as he spills over his face, painting him similarly to how Izuku just had. “There’s my good boy.” He can hear Izuku purr as Shouto finishes with a sigh.


Izuku cups his cheeks, uncaring of the spunk on his face, and he turns his head toward him. He’s smiling, his eyes soft and loving, cheeks dusted pink. He’s so fucking pretty and Katsuki nearly cries again seeing the adoration in his boyfriend’s eyes. Izuku kisses him, slow slide of their lips, nice and easy. He parts Katsuki’s mouth with his tongue, and licks inside, tasting his slick walls with a groan. Katsuki wonders if Izuku can taste Shouto on him too.


As Izuku leans away, he slides down Katsuki’s chest, and wraps his fingers around his sobbing cock. His dick is red, desperate. Katsuki physically trembles as Izuku begins to stroke him. It almost hurts, being touched like this, after needing it for so long. He feels a hand caressing his face, and blinks up at Shouto who’s sitting beside him, gently shushing him and wiping his tears.


He’s crying again? He never even realized. He just knows that he isn’t going to last long at all. Izuku’s hand is warm, and Katsuki’s cock is wet with his own absurd amount of precum. “Baby.” Izuku calls, and Katsuki hiccups, blinking at him through his tears, “Show Shouto how you look when you’re drunk on ecstasy.” Izuku flicks his wrist at the end of his sentence, and Katsuki writhes on the bed, twisting and pressing his face into Shouto’s thighs. After another flick of his wrist, Katsuki cries out, a strangled moan bubbling up from his raw throat as he came. 


Finally. finally, finally! He’s relieved, it feels so good to have his orgasm washing over him, bathing him and cradling him. Izuku pumps his cock through it, working out every drop of come, and Shouto pets his hair. He might even lean down and kiss his forehead, or his temple, or hell his lips . Katsuki isn’t sure because he’s so high, he doesn’t even think his soul is inside his body. 


“He really is a good boy.” Shouto says, and that, Katsuki can hear clearly.


As Izuku replies, Katsuki feels a whole different kind of warmth in his body. Pure bliss, a feeling he only gets after praise, after knowing he did something right, and is rewarded for it, “I told you.”

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


It’s been too long. Longer than Tobio even wants to think about. Without Shouyou around, time was still, he felt like every second of everyday tick by in slow motion. He knows that’s how it has to be. Professional players on different teams means that they’re going to be apart for long periods of time, and there is some good in that. The reunion is always special, never once did Tobio find himself anything but ecstatic. Shouyou is his drive, he’s the thing that has always driven his passion for volleyball further. Watching Shouyou grow was growth for himself too. Which is why missing him is so easy.


Talking on the phone or texting is one thing, it’s one way to talk, and Tobio has never been the type of person to sit on his phone, even when he was younger. He does it for Shouyou, though. Just because Tobio hates every minute of free time he has. Anytime he’s not talking to Shouyou, anytime he’s left in waiting. But that’s why meeting up again is so nice. Even if it’s brief, even if he’s left trying not to think about the hours counting down to their separation.


There’s a game in two days, that’s why they’re together again. If there’s something he loves more than being on the court with Shouyou, facing him down and showing him new tricks. Witnessing the levels he climbed while away, it’s when they’re alone. When they’re in the bedroom.


Tobio isn’t someone who is vulnerable with people. He has been that way for a long time, and even for the longest time, that stayed true with Shouyou. Now, after years of friendship, and a relationship, he’s allowed Shouyou to chip at, and peel his layers back. He’s allowed himself to be examined under Shouyou’s microscope, allowing him to pick him apart. Because Shouyou is the type of person who took joy in putting him back together afterwards. He’s the only one who Tobio believes can do it properly. Tonight is no different.


Tobio is spread out on his sheets. He’s beneath Shouyou, which is a familiar position. Tobio quite likes the look of Shouyou above him, he’s come to favor it, and has plenty of images of Shouyou hovering over him locked away in his memories for rainy days. This is a scene like so many others, but Tobio has yet to grow sick of them. He’s not sure it’s even possible to ever want anything more than what he has now. Hinata Shouyou is enough, is all Tobio wants, and has ever wanted.


The way Shouyou makes him feel is a similar tale. Warm, like his insides are melting. He’s filling him with pleasure that makes his blood run slow, like it’s molasses. In moments like this, time moving slower is welcomed. He wants to remember every curl of his toes, or the ache in his hips. The way Shouyou makes his body jerk with every piston of his hips. His hands are around his thighs, squeezing them, bruising them with fingerprints. The bite of his nails are one of Tobio's favorites, it’s like electricity, the light pain waking him up, and heightening his senses. Right now, his senses are everywhere.


He trembles before he spills over his chest, it’s the second time that night, his first load is already drying on him. Sticky and uncomfortable, but he’s barely thinking about that when Shouyou is still working his hips into him, still fucking him through his orgasm is which the definition of too much. Shouyou's stamina isn't something to be challenged, Tobio knows this by now. He also knows that after they spend so much time away from each other, desperation is the main fuel behind their movements and their needs.


Shouyou hasn't come yet because he's got a cock ring on. It was his idea, as were many of their sexual escapades. Shouyou's the one who wanted to fuck him for long, to hold out on his own release and focus on "spoiling" Tobio as he called it. And honestly, that's exactly what it felt like. Tobio's entire body is on fire, each breath is hard to catch, it's impossible to relax. Even now, as he's riding on the high of his orgasm, as he's trying to have a recovery period, it's not allowed. Shouyou is persistent in the way he fucks into him. His swollen shaft is rutting against his prostate with every little movement, every tiny twitch, and Tobio can't help but to see stars. He can't help it when his dick twitches again and he spills for the third time. This time, it's completely pathetic, there's no show. Just clear come drooling from his twitching dick as Tobio whines, as he writhes in the sheets and pulls at the fabric.


He really can't breathe. His lungs ache, and every breath is like inhalations of ash. He is sweating like he just finished serving practice, and his hips are aching from their positioning. Shouyou is flushed. His face, his chest, his hips. He's entirely pink, and he's moaning with each thrust, panting just as hard as Tobio is, but his eyes are fixated on Tobio's face. He's watching, studying in that intimating way. He's been like that since they were teenagers, he gets this hunger in his eye as he picks something, or someone, apart. And Tobio is the victim this time.


"Sh-Shou.." Tobio gasps, it's really the first spoken word exchanged between them. They're just so animalistic in their fervor that conversation, or praise hasn't existed. They missed each other, but they missed this too. Having each other in such an intimate matter, using each other to cut some of that tension and stress loose. "Can we slow down? I'm... It's..."


Shouyou's hips do slow, but they don't stop. He ruts into him, grinds, and gives more shallow thrusts as he leans down. He doesn't say anything, but his arms wrap around Tobio's middle, and he peppers sweet kisses all over his face, trailing down his neck, and dancing along his shoulders Tobio hooks his long legs around Shouyou's small waist, and while it's not meant to be invitation to pick things up, Shouyou takes it that way. He starts to pick up his pace again, mouthing lazily at Tobio's throat, teeth digging in, and sucking. He's uncaring about marks, which is a problem Tobio should nip in the bud because they're professional athletes, but he doesn't think to stop him because he's fucking directly on his prostate and Tobio arches, wails at the stimulation.


"Too much." He gasps, his hands reaching for Shouyou's shoulders. He means to push him away, he really does, but the moment he's got his hands on Shouyou he impulsively wraps his arms around him, burying his face into Shouyou's neck. "It hurts. It's... it's too much, I'm serious." Tobio whines, he warns. There's some strange, tingling feeling in his balls, in his gut, something he's not used to and anxiety bubbles up with his pleasure.


"I missed you so much." Shouyou says instead, and he gives a particularly hard bite to the junction of his jaw that makes Tobio twitch, "I love making you feel good. I love it. I love you." He's practically babbling now, his voice sounds more strained, and Tobio tries to suppress the whimper bubbling in his throat but he's not entirely sure he succeeds.


He clenches down on Shouyou, so hard he even hears a strangled groan leave Shouyou's lips. He feels like he has to come, he really does, he even gasps like he's reaching the peak of an orgasm. But as his head tilts back, and his toes curl, nothing comes out. Absolutely nothing. He's dry, his dick is dry, his chest is dry. It takes him by surprise.He can feel the bubbling of an orgasm, but he doesn't feel his release, he never had his release. 


"Did you just come dry?" Shouyou asks, and he's leaning back just a fraction to look between them. Tobio has no clue what that means, he doesn't know what happened. He felt like he came, but there was no evidence. He knows it was an orgasm but there was no release. He apparently hadn't come, "Tobio?"


"It... felt like I came." He murmurs, unsure of how to describe what just happened. His skin is still tingling, his heart is racing, he can feel pleasure seeping into his bones. But no evidence.


Shouyou's eyes have a dangerous glint in them, and he reaches down between them to wrap his fingers around his cock. "That's hot." He breathes out, and Tobio felt his lips on his jaw line, peppering kisses up until he could whisper in his ear, "I wonder if I can  make you do it again?"


Tobio's heart feels like it's going to burst, he can't even get a word in by the time Shouyou's leaning back to continue fucking into his heat. Tobio groans and tightens his grip on Shouyou, his heels digging into the small of Shouyou's back. He swears softly, pulling Shouyou down so he can bury his face in his neck, panting against his skin. Shouyou's hand is still on his dick, fumbling to follow the pace of his hips, but it doesn’t matter. The stimulation is too overwhelming for him. The highs he keeps riding are too much for him. Shouyou is too much for him.


Tobio is starting to fall somewhere that feels dangerously intoxicating. "Shou... I'm.." He gasps into his neck, and then bites down on his bottom lip when he feels Shouyou squeeze his cock in his hand. He can feel it rising again. He's both exhausted and worked up. He doesn't know what to do. If he should tell Shouyou to stop, if he should ride out another orgasm for him. Shouyou still hasn't come yet, he hasn't gotten a single release while Tobio is already working up his fourth. Shouyou shows no signs of stopping either. "Baby."


Pet names aren't something the both of them indulge in so because Tobio using one he easily gets Shouyou's attention. Shouyou leans back enough to look at him, their noses bumping together from the proximity. Every thought in Tobio's head comes to a halt as Shouyou's eyes flicker down to his lips, and he leans forward so their lips can meet. Tobio gasps into his mouth, hugging Shouyou closer. Shouyou's thrusts get sloppy as both their attention is focused on their kiss, everything else fading out as their mouths slot together. It’s open, wet licks, and heavy pants. Barely able to be considered proper  kiss with how desperate it is, how worked up the both of them are. 


"Shou." Tobio whines against his lips, his hands cupping his lovers cheeks, "Wanna come with you." He needs a break, a real one, not just a few minutes in between his pleasure.


Shouyou coos softly, nipping at Tobio's top lip, "Are you going to beg for it?" He teases and even in his haze of pleasure Tobio feels his eye twitch. Shouyou knows the exact chords to strike, he's learned them quickly as the two of them grew up together. Instead of answering, certainly not begging, he decides instead to press their mouths back together. He nips at Shouyou's bottom lip, and lets his hands slide down his back to smooth over his ass cheeks, giving a firm squeeze as he licks into Shouyou's mouth.


Tobio purposefully clenches down on Shouyou's cock, relishing in the gasp from his lips. He takes advantage of it, licking at the roof of his mouth. His chance at getting the upper hand falls through when Shouyou palms at his cock, pressing his thumb against his slit. The moment Shouyou touches him like that, Tobio trembles, lips falling open in a silent cry. Shouyou kisses him hard then, biting down hard on his bottom lip, and sucking on his tongue. Tobio squeezes Shouyou’s ass again, groaning as Shouyou pistons his hips harder, fucking deeper into him, picking up a similar pace to his earlier one. 


The pleasure swells inside him again, and Tobio feels himself starting to give way again to that ache. It's overwhelming again, almost immediately Tobio feels himself getting worked up again. Shouyou leans back, just so he can look down at Tobio as Tobio's hands fall above his head, and he lies uselessly while he's being fucked. He shuts his eyes, and parts his lips, just trying to soak himself in the pleasure Shouyou is delivering to him. He knows he can come again, he just doesn't know if it's going to be dry, as Shouyou had called it. But that doesn't matter much to him. As long as giving Shouyou what he wants gets him a break, then he'll silently concede.


It's not like he's not enjoying himself, thrill is buzzing under his skin, and he loves the way Shouyou touches him. The greed, and the want behind every kiss, and every movement. Tobio feels wanted, and loved, and it's what he needs when they spend so much time apart. Shouyou just… has a lot more stamina than Tobio is ever prepared for. And he knows Tobio’s body intimately, even better than Tobio might.


So, Shouyou knows the exact way to start fucking him so he’s on his prostate. So every thrust is hitting that sensitive, overstimulated bundle of nerves, and he does it now, mercilessly. He grabs Tobio’s legs, pressing them closer to his chest as he angles his thrusts deeper, so each kick of his hips is right there, driving Tobio mad. Tobio reaches blindly to hold his thighs for Shouyou, giving him extra room to move as he pleases. At this point, Tobio’s not even sure if he can reach another orgasm, but Shouya isn’t one to quit, especially when he’s as determined as he is right now.


“Let me see you come again.” Shouyou encourages, he starts to put more focus into stroking his cock, to match it with the pace of his hips. The combination is breathtaking. Tobio arches as Shouyou coaxes more pleasure from him, again and again. With each of his hip movements, and every stroke of his length. Now, Shouyou chooses to be vocal too. “Come on, can’t you do it again? Since when do you give up?” Teasing little words that eat at Tobio’s insides, push him to make his point, to give Shouyou what he wants.


“Shut up.” Tobio hisses between his gasp, his skin sheen with sweat, his arm resting over his forehead while his other grabs at his pillows, trying to find some way to ground himself, “I’m… I—I don’t think…” He’s been worked past his breaking point, there’s nothing more from this, he’s spent and tired. It’s even irresponsible to do this, he and Shouyou have a game soon; a game where they’re going to be against each other.


Shouyou palms at the crown of his cock, making Tobio shiver as shockwaves of pleasure lick up his spine. “That’s not what I wanna hear.” He sounds a bit disappointed, and that eats at Tobio. The last thing he wants is for anyone to be disappointed, and not in him . “I can make you. I can help.” He swears, confidence dripping dangerously in his throat. Tobio’s not entirely sure what in the world Shouyou can mean by that but moments later he grips his cock harder, squeezing around his head, and he starts to really hammer his cock into him. He fucks so hard that Tobio feels himself jerk slightly up the bed, lips parting in a silent cry before he bites down hard on his bottom lip to try and control himself.


Shouyou is persistent, he doesn’t relent. Tobio feels like pleasure is clawing at his insides, and can feel bubbles popping inside him, each one creating a rippling effect of uncontrollable fervor. That’s when he feels tears, right in the corners of his eyes. It’s not doing anything. He can’t come again. It’s not Shouyou’s fault, he’s just too worked up, he’s too exhausted. Everything is too much .


But when he feels something deep inside him, cracking like a damn, overflowing and threatening. It’s a sudden surge, a swelling that’s uncontrollable, and dangerous. A moment later with his legs shaking Tobio can feel his orgasm. This one strikes him lethally. Suddenly. Tobio sees fireworks as his eyes shut and his arches. He tilts his head back, and subconsciously clenches down hard on Shouyou’s cock. He thinks he might hear Shouyou groan, but he’s numb to it. His ears are ringing with his orgasm. He doesn’t come, no, it’s similar to before, but this orgasm is intense. He doesn’t even know if he breathes through it, he just knows that the first few breaths he recognizes leaves him in a euphoric state. The oxygen getting into his lungs, and to his brain is so sweet, Tobio feels blissed out.


And then he feels Shouyou come. He feels hot, thick ropes of release filling his insides. It grants him a clarity that leaves Tobio babbling, his head spinning, his hips twitching. And when Shouyou’s finally done he feels him slump against him, hot puffs of his breath fanning over Tobio’s chest, his body heavy, the both of them exhausted. “I have to..” Shouyou groans softly, “Take the ring off. Can’t believe I… with it still… damn….”


Tobio hums softly, “Then get off me and do it.”


Except Shouyou doesn’t move, and Tobio doesn’t make him. They both lay there, trying to center themselves again, Tobio finally getting that recovery period he was so desperate for. And then Shouyou perks up, pushing himself back to stare down at Tobio, “Well then… round two?”


“That was like round five, are you kidding me?” Tobio scoffs, his glare weak, eyes narrowed.


Shouyou just smirks in response. “That didn’t sound like a no.”

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


Megumi has a habit of leaving. Or, at the very least, he thinks he can leave. It’s a cycle that constantly repeats itself, but no matter what, Megumi comes back. This is because he knows his life starts and will end in Sukuna’s arms. He and Sukuna are one, they’re destined together, soulmates. And Sukuna cannot leave his disobedience unpunished. What they have is not a typical relationship. There’s trust, and respect. There’s love. But the feelings shared between Megumi and Sukuna are more on par with that of devotion .


Sukuna’s punishments are not kind, but there are days he feels more hospitious. Today is… mostly one of those days. Sukuna thinks this punishment is fun, at least for him, and by the look of it Megumi is enjoying himself too.


He’s trying to restrain himself, Sukuna can tell by the furrow in his brow, the way his hand is covering his face. But there are tells he can’t hide, like how slick and wet he is between his thighs. How each trust of Sukuna’s hips drives him deeper and deeper inside Megumi’s folds. This is better than fighting. This is better than arguing, but leaving it like this isn’t going to teach Megumi a single thing. But that’s why Sukuna has plans, that’s why he prepared. But first things first, to stop Megumi from hiding his delicate features from him.


Sukuna reaches down, gently peeling his hand away from his face, pinning his wrist above his head. As he does so, his other hand pushes his thigh up further, which allows Sukuna to sink deep inside him. They both share a groan, and Sukuna invades Megumi’s personal space, nipping playfully at his chin, before he kisses his bottom lip. “I can tell how much you missed me.” He teases him, watching Megumi’s emerald eyes shift away from him, but the pink flush is obvious on his pearly skin. “Embarrassed?” Sukuna is endeared by everything Megumi says and does, especially in moments like this, when he thinks he can hide himself from Sukuna.


Megumi doesn’t meet his eyes, but he huffs softly, his body twitching around him in a telltale way. “I didn’t miss you .” He says pointedly, too dismissive to admit his affections. He might be shy, but his body isn’t. Sukuna can show him how wrong he is, though. He moves his hand from Megumi’s wrist, pleased when he leaves it above his head. He reaches between them, his thumb tracing over his swollen clit, watching Megumi’s reaction. He has to hold himself back from preening when Megumi's lips fall open in a cry, and he tightens his grip on Sukuna’s cock.


“Are you sure about that? Your body sure missed me…” He hums, satisfaction pumping through his veins, making him feel even more confident than he had before. Megumi’s dismissals are attractive, Sukuna doesn’t mind working for it, he doesn’t mind turning Megumi from solid to liquid and watching as he melts in his hands. He especially doesn’t mind when Megumi gives him open reason to use his toys as punishment. Sukuna reaches into the nightstand beside them, today's toy awaiting him inside. He has used them on Megumi before, but he feels wicked fervor licking up his spine when Megumi’s eyes widen in recognition. “Aw, it’s like a reunion between old friends.” Sukuna comments, leaning back more so he can gently pull each leather gloves onto his hands.


Megumi cannot keep his expression neutral, and Sukuna doesn’t miss the way his breathing picks up, the way he clenches around Sukuna’s girth. Both in fear, and anticipation. Sukuna feels wild with power, with the control he has over Megumi’s body. It practically belongs to him after all. Megumi and his temperament are harder to control, but his body is loyal, in an unwavering sort of way.


With the gloves on, Sukuna cannot help himself as he reaches down, lightly running his pricked fingers over Megumi’s lean, porcelain body, watching his bottom lip tremble. It’s the unknown that’s so attractive. When would Sukuna press down? When would he sink the glove’s teeth into Megumi’s skin, and draw crimson tears from his body? For now, just the tacks sensation on Megumi’s flesh are more than enough, he wants to draw this out. He likes to watch the muscles in Megumi’s abdomen grow taut, likes the hitch in his breath as Sukuna settles his hands on Megumi’s hips. He grips him, only slightly, not hard enough to puncture.


He knows Megumi can feel their bite, he can see his eyes glossing over as anticipation consumes him, as all his thoughts focus on the pain that’s to come. When will it mix with pleasure? When will the sweet, peppering kisses be mixed with the sharp, angry bites? For now, Sukuna indulges himself in shallow, greedy thrusts of his hips. He watches his cock as he pulls it from Megumi, and sinks it back inside, between his folds. He’s glistening with Megumi’s slick, and Megumi’s body is practically swallowing him, wailing whenever Sukuna pulls away, then sucking him back in.


“You’re so hungry.” Sukuna purrs, pressing down with the tips of his fingers watching Megumi’s hips twitch at the threat. “I bet you’re already wanting filled, hm? Since you decided to leave, you haven’t had anything to keep you swollen.” Sukuna’s hand dances from Megumi’s hip, hovering above his stomach, “Right here.” He all but whispers as he lays his fingers down on his stomach, petting down until he reaches the split in his lips, watching Megumi’s eyes go wide. He arches, just slightly, and Sukuna’s smile is dangerously wicked, “Oh? Do you want me to touch… down here.”


“Don’t be crazy.” Megumi bites back, gritting his teeth, his eyes sharp. He looks like a wolf, and Sukuna knows he’s not shy when it comes to using his claws. He knows Megumi will fight back, and Sukuna wants that, maybe a little. But, there is the chance he backs him into a wall, making Megumi his bitch instead. That’s just as enjoyable. 


Sukuna laughs softly, but moves his hand back to Megumi’s hip, tilting his head at him. “That’s not very nice… you know the answer to that. In fact,” Sukuna’s hands slide down Megumi’s thighs, carefully sliding them underneath, squeezing lightly at the back of his thighs, “I think you called me that when you left . Do you remember that?” He gives another squeeze, harder this time. Hard enough that Megumi whimpers. “No?” He answers for him when Megumi says nothing, when he just stares, his chest rising and falling, “Let me remind you then.”


With that, Sukuna pushes. He pushes Megumi’s legs up, and closer to his chest, and with the pressure behind the movement the tacks sink into the soft flesh of Megumi’s thighs. Megumi whines, it’s a delicious noise that makes Sukuna press his thighs closer to his chest, which in turn forces the tacks deeper inside him. “Do you remember?” Sukuna asks as he picks up the pace of his hips, as he drives his cock deep into Megumi’s body, watching him jerk underneath, “Ring a bell? Or should I go harder?”


The truth is that Megumi doesn’t have a choice in the matter, and he knows that. That’s why he doesn’t respond. He knows this is Sukuna’s time, because in this toxic web they have been spinning, this time it’s Sukuna. Megumu is his captured prey, he knows it’s time for his punishment. One day, he’ll learn that leaving him is futile, and until then he got these punishments. Until he was properly trained, this was the fun Sukuna would have as they worked on his behavior. 


“‘Kuna.” Megumi gasps, his head tipping back, his fingers curling until his hands are in fists. Sukuna can only imagine how it feels. To have his body radiating with so much pleasure, being pumped full of ecstasy only for pain to mix in, to throw him off. To add more coal to the fire that was consuming him. And the fact that Megumi was now moaning his name was a tell-tale sign that he was close to coming. To show Sukuna just how much he missed them, how much control he has.


“Are you going to make a mess, Megumi?” Sukuna teases him, tightens his grip on Megumi’s thighs, watches the pleasure in his expression twist with pain. His eyes shift down and he sees Megumi throbbing and twitching around him. He’s so hot, he’s so sensitive. Sukuna knows he’s got a few more seconds before Megumi is coming, and he happily milks it out of him. He ravishes his body, fucks into him like Megumi isn’t a person, like he’s Sukuna’s plaything instead. Which isn’t very far from the truth, is it?


When he hears the broken, shaken cry from Megumi’s lips Sukuna pulls his length from his body, watching him as he trembles, and soaks the bed beneath him. Megumi comes silently, his body tensing, his back arching from the bed as he squirts. Sukuna takes a hand from Megumi’s thigh, humming at the reddened skin, and a few tiny droplets of blood that were produced from the gloves. He easily pulls the glove off with his teeth, and reaches for his cock, pumping his length until he’s coming all over Megumi's body. The sight of his own seed on Megumi’s still slick, still pink and raw body is and always will be exhilarating. Enough to keep his cock hard, to keep his interests piqued.


“You’re so beautiful like this.” Sukuna tells him as he leans down, pushing Megumi’s legs against his chest, until they’re flushed there. He hears Megumi whimper, hissing softly because he still wore the glove on one hand. But he decides to leave it there, for Megumi’s fun, “I’m obsessed with you.” He tells Megumi, before he buries his face between Megumi’s folds, licking hungry at both his and Megumi’s messes that were still fresh there.


Megumi gasps when Sukuna’s mouth is on him, when he licks hungrily at his clit, and nips at his lips. “I know. I know.” He all but cries, and Sukua feels a hand smooth over his on Megumi's thighs, glances up to see Megumi’s hand laid over his. He looks to Megumi then, who is panting, more flushed than before if that’s even possible.


“Of course you do.” Sukuna hums, his smugness bleeding through the smile on his face.  Of course Megumi knows. It was Sukuna’s obsessions and expectations that had such a strain on their relationship. Part of the reason Megumi left him oh so many times. But it’s also the reason he always comes back, the reason he can never actually leave him.


Megumi loves being someone's obsession. He loves the worship. They both know that. Their love bites, and leaves bruises, and hurts. But it’s an addiction neither of them can turn their backs on. 

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


Everything’s hot. The kind of heat that travels through his veins. There’s gasoline in his blood, and it’s dangerously spreading throughout his body, igniting and leaving his insides ablaze. His hands are gripping the baseboard of their bed so tightly that his knuckles are white, and aching. But if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that he’s not supposed to touch Keiji. As badly as he wants to, Koutarou is trying his very hardest to behave.


Keiji doesn’t make it easy. Not only is he absolutely beautiful as he pulls off his cock, a string of spit still connecting him lovingly to Koutarou. His eyes are shining, his lips are swollen and his hand expertly moves over Koutarou as he works his shaft, his lips wrapping down the crown of his dick, tongue licking at the slit. Koutarou hisses, his composure crackling, his need all consuming. His hips buck on their own, subconsciously. But even a tiny movement like that, entirely by accident, makes Keiji withdraw. No mouth, no hands, Koutarou is left stiffly hanging there with Keiji looking up at him in disapproval.


“I-I’m sorry.” Koutarou starts, his voice cracking, “I didn’t mean it, it just happened.”


Keiji’s gaze is fixed and unwavering. “That’s strike three, Bokuto-san.” Koutarou’s lips pull down into a pout at the impersonal name, part of his punishment no doubt. They lost the formalities a long time ago, well, Keiji has used them for some time, but Koutarou doesn’t like their reappearance in moments like this. “There’s no more warnings, the next time you’re cut off, do you understand?” Keiji speaks with confidence, and he’s stern with his conviction. Koutarou nods his head eagerly, anything to get Keiji’s mouth back on his aching cock. Keiji quirks his brow, but lets the moment go as he leans back in to take Koutarou back into his mouth.


Feeling himself being enveloped by Keiji’s lips again is enough to make him tremble, a low whine escaping his lips. In the short few seconds that Keiji pulled off him, Koutarou missed him dearly. He wants nothing more than to run his fingers through Keiji’s lock, to trace the stretch of his lips, to pull him further down his length. He knows Keiji can take more, he’s done it plenty of times before. Right now, he’s torturing Koutarou and it’s driving him mad. Moments like this are a test to the patience Koutarou doesn’t possess, and Keiji knows he isn’t able to be this patient.


Keiji’s hand moves from Koutarou’s hip, sliding down to cup his balls, giving them a confident squeeze that makes Koutarou’s knees feel weak. He whines softly, his head falling back. Keiji then massages them in his palm, his other hand squeezing the base of his cock, and it leaves Koutarou drooling. He feels numb, all over his body, trying so hard not to let his composure falter.


But try as hard as he might, he’s failing. He can feel it, he can feel every part of his being crumbling. He could feel his will dissipating, could feel the ropes holding him back breaking, that the damn is just a moment away from breaking. Keiji is taking his time with this, he’s teasing him, torturing him. He knows well enough what Koutarou likes, what he’s into and what he prefers. He knows and he doesn’t care. It’s all Koutarou can think about. His thoughts move from not moving, staying still, being good to instead how unfair this is. Why does Keiji get to do this? Look disappointed in him? It’s not fair.


While his focus shifts, his composure is entirely fractured. Any hope Koutarou has of keeping stil, or of listening is burned up, and it’s turned into ashes. Just like that, his will falters, and he takes matters into his own hands.


He starts by moving his hands into Keiji’s soft, long locks. He’s in need of a haircut, but Koutarou enjoys it when his length grows out. Keiji’s brow furrows, and he moves to pull off Koutarou’s cock, but instead he forces his head all the way down. Once he feels Keiji’s nose buried into the curled hair at the root of his dick he all but shakes. He can feel Keiji’s throat around him, and it’s tight, wet, and wonderful. Koutarou is literally trembling with his next movements. He holds Keiji’s head firmly, and pistons his hips like some heat crazed animal, groaning and gasping as he repeatedly fucks into Keiji’s mouth.


He can feel every convulsing movement of his throat, he can feel every twitch, hear choked noises, and feel hot breaths on his lower abdomen. Keiji’s mouth is dreamy. Koutarou feels like his melting into him, he feels like he’s turning into a puddle as he wildly kicks his hips, his noises far too loud, but Koutarou doesn’t care in the slightest as he greedily seeks out his orgasm.


There is something in the back of his mind, already shaming him for being so selfish and disobedient, but it’s muffled by Koutarou’s needs. “Oh God. Oh God.” Koutarou moans, his grip in Keiji’s hair tightening, pulling subconsciously as his hips twitch and he keens. He comes down Keiji’s throat, his knees feeling weak in the swell of pleasure. He struggles to stay standing as he spills, and when he finally pulls back, he’s panting, and his vision is blurred. He reaches to the baseboard of the bed to keep him up. He’s catching his breath as Keiji’s sputters and coughs, trying to compose himself as well from the sudden assault he endured. 


All at once Koutarou seems to come to, realizing what he did and guilt bubbles up in his chest, “Keiji.” He gasps, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a bone crushing hug, “I’m—I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He whines softly, burying his face into Keiji’s neck, his bottom lip trembling, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Oh no, I didn’t actually hurt you did I?” He leans back, and holds Keiji’s shoulders in his hands, looking frantically over his face.


“I’m not hurt, Koutarou.” Keiji says, his face flushed, and his voice dangerously harsh. Koutarou tries to ignore the fact that Keiji’s current rasp is stupidly hot, and he pulls him back into a hug. Keiji’s arms come around him, and Koutarous breathes a sigh of relief, smiling to himself now that he’s sure things are good between them. “Although, you broke the rules, and you’re out of strikes.” Keiji says close to his ear, and Koutarou stiffens, anticipation bubbling in his abdomen. “I think that means you're due for a punishment, don’t you?”

Koutarou laughs. A sort of nonchalant, awkward croak that sounds more like the last breaths some poor creature might back before they were swallowed whole. And as Koutarou leans back to smile worriedly at Keiji, he notices that his boyfriend looks dangerously close to a predator backing it’s prey into a corner. “Punishment? I mean… is that really necessary?” 


Keiji isn’t amused by Koutarou’s playfulness, or attempts to avoid him. “I think it is.”


“Maybe it is.” Koutarou backtracks immediately, ignoring the heat pooling at the base of his cock again, ignoring the fact he’s already getting hard again. 


“But this time… I think I’ll need those handcuffs.” Keiji murmurs, more to himself than to Koutarou, but he can't help the way he perks up a little at the idea. More toture, no doubt. But if there’s anyones mercy he has to be at, it’s Keiji’s. That’s something he knows without question. 

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“I need it. I need it.” Taehyung is practically slurring at this point. Jimin can feel how hot his skin is, he can feel his heart racing. It’s beating so hard that Jimin feels like it’s rippling through him and into his own chest. He’s hot inside too, Jimin’s cock is practically melting, and god bless Taehyung, but he’s significantly bigger than him, and Jimin feels like he’s rapidly losing oxygen with his weight atop him. But Taehyung is far too worked up to even consider that, it’s like he’s in another space entirely, completely gone with his pleasure, and controlled by his need. 


The hot puffs of breath that keep leaving his mouth tickle at Jimin’s neck, and it’s making goosebumps prick. Jimin supposes if he’s going to go out in any way, he’s okay with it being suffocated by his big baby of a boyfriend. This is probably more honorable than any other way fate might have decided for him. And dying with his dick inside such a wet, hot hole is more than he could ask for. But, of course, that doesn’t happen. Because Taehyung is suddenly lifted off him.


It’s almost comical, how Jeongguk picks him up like he’s a kitten, and lets him lean his weight into Jeongguk’s chest. “You’re going to kill Jimin, Tae.” He says, but it’s cooed softly, and accompanied by a sweet kiss to Taehyung’s sweaty temple, “You’re crushing him.”


“No.” Tayhyung whines, blindly reaching out for Jimin. He reaches up, and they interlock their fingers as Taehyung rocks his hips down on his cock, hiccuping as Jimin brushes over his prostate again. Poor thing was overstimulated, and on his way to his third orgasm. “Gguk. Please.” Taehyung gasps, his head lulling back onto Jeongguk’s shoulder as his thighs tremble. He struggles to fuck himself down on Jimin, on the brink of exhaustion. It’s a sad sight, but it’s also adorable. Jimin knows how much Taehyung loves feeling overwhelmed like this, so it knows it’s completely fine. That doesn’t make it any less pathetic, though. 


Jeongguk doesn’t respond verbally, instead Jimin can feel him prodding at Taehyung’s already stretched hole with his fingertips. Jimin groans softly, and in time with Taehyung when Jeongguk dips them inside him, teasing and spreading him further. Taehyung’s brows furrow and his lips part in a silent cry, tightening his grip on Jimin’s hands. “Stop teasing him.” Jimin chides Jeongguk softly who smiles impishly.


“I’m not.” He responds, but he’s guilty of it and he knows it. He likes pushing Taehyung, even when they aren’t fooling around. Likes bickering with him, whenever he could find the time to rile him up. That carries over in the bedroom. Jimin is also guilty of pushing Taehyung past his limits, endlessly torturing him, and playing with him. Because Taehyung is stunning, especially in moments like this where he’s sheen with sweat, and his golden, sunkissed skin is flushed pink. But Jeongguk is just being mean right now.

“Please. Please.” Taehyung is babbling, hips twitching upwards, his big cock bobbing helplessly in the air. He’s stiff, and swollen, drooling angrily. But it’s not his dick that Taehyung wants played with, it’s his ass that’s desperate for more attention. For Jeongguk’s attention in particular. He’s well prepared, wet and waiting, but Jeongguk is insistent on drawing it out. “Gguk.. gguk . “ Taehyung pants, tilting his head to nuzzle into his jaw.


Jeongguk smiles, and tilts his head to brush his lips over Taehyung’s. Taehyung kisses back eagerly, pecking back at his lips, seeking out his attention like a kitten in heat. Jimin feels Jeongguk’s fingers slide out, and then a moment later the head of his cock was prodding at Taehyung’s heat. Jimin bites down on his bottom lip, watching Taehyung’s expression as Jeongguk finally starts to work his way inside him. He feels the way Taehyung’s hands cling to him, watches his mouth fall agape, and sees the satisfaction settle on his shoulders.


He’s so beautiful. In moments like now, and everything outside it. There isn’t a day that passes that Jimin isn’t in awe of Taehyung.


Jeongguk’s arms lock tight around Taehyung’s middle as he starts to almost violently fuck up into his body. Jimin keeps his hands interlocked with Taehyung’s, knowing well that he’s going to need something to keep him grounded as Jeongguk pistons his hips into him. Jimin can feel himself getting overwhelmed with Taehyung, the feel of Jeongguk’s cock rutting against his inside Taehyung is enough to make pleasure swell in his chest as well. Taehyung is whining, he’s an absolute mess of babbling pleads and inconsolable cries. Jeongguk’s hands slid up, tweaking and playing with his chest, while his lips are making their mark over Taehyung’s broad shoulders.


Jeongguk’s holding Taehyung up in a way that supports his weight, so Jimin doesn’t feel too bad about reaching out and taking Taehyung's thick cock in his hand. Taehyung all but trembles when Jimin starts to milk him, while Jeongguk pinches, and twists his nipples. He just swears, a long, almost comical slue of curses leaving his thick, plump lips. And Jimin can’t just let Jeongguk have all that credit.


He finds his footing on the bed before he starts to fuck up with Jeongguk, the two of them working out their pacing, and then Taehyung is being ravished by the both of them. He cries out, his free hand moving back to fist in Jeongguk’s long locks. “Please! Please..” He slurs, probably unsure of what he’s even asking for, but both Jimin and Jeongguk decide for him. Jeongguk pinches, pulls, and massages his tits. Meanwhile, Jimin ruts his thumb over Taehyung drooling slit, squeezing the length of his dick, watching as he practically wails. “I’m gonna—Oh God I’m—” Taehyung gasps and with that, he’s spilling over Jimin’s chest and his stomach.


His release is hot, and Jimin loves being covered by him, loves it so much that the feeling makes his own cock twitch and then a second later he’s spilling inside Taehyung with a groan, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches Jeongguk’s expression. He’s getting a tell-tale furrow in his brow, his hips twitching in a way Jimin is all too familiar with.


Jimin pulls himself from Taehyung’s hole, and then Jeongguk absolutely uses him. Taehyung is practically limp while Jeongguk fucks him with fervor, with his own pleasure in mind. Taehyung can’t do anything now, he’s too exhausted, he’s slumped, jerking with Jeongguk’s movements, his entire weight is rested on him. It doesn’t bother Jeongguk one bit, no, he comes after them, biting down into Taehyung’s shoulder possessively, earning him a whimpered gasp from him.


And then the both of them collapsed atop Jimin. All the air is knocked from his lungs with the weight of them both, and he reaches up slapping Jeongguk’s hip. “O-Off! Get off, damnit.”


“Can’t.” Jeongguk pants, Taehyung groaning between the both of them, “My bones are liquid.” 


“And my lungs are deflating, get off .” Jimin cried, shoving useless at them. Jeongguk groans, and rolls over, his arm around Taehyung dragging him with as he flips over to the other side of the too small bed. Taehyung is cramped between them, but he doesn’t seem to mind too much as he curls up and cuddles into Jimin. “Fuck.” Jimin breathes out, taking in a few greedy breaths.


It’s quiet for a few minutes, just panted breaths and the slight shifting as they try and get comfortable in the limited space. “I’m never…” Taehyung murmurs, “Going to be satisfied with one cock again.” Jimin laughs softly, wrapping his arm around Taehyung, hugging him closer.


Jeongguk shifts, pressing into Taehyung’s back, kissing at the nape of his neck, “Wanna bet?” He challenges him, and Jimin can feel Taehyung perk up.


“Okay, no.” He groans, rolling his eyes, “It’s cuddle time. You two are going to fuck each other to death, and I’m not going to be held responsible.”


“What a way to go.” Taehyung laughs, Jeongguk joins in with him before Jimin concedes and also laughs. Completely endeared by both of his boys. 

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


It didn’t matter if he was being fucked, or if he was doing the fucking, Ryuu had a pattern of behavior that was unwavering. He thought it stemmed from his passion, or something of the sort, because when he was in the moment, when he was chasing a feeling, nothing could stop him. All that Ryuu cared about, all that he could feel and think about, was that moment alone. Intimacy and sex were their on special bubbles with this. To say that Ryuu’s fervor was overwhelming is an understatement. When it came to sex, things were on a whole other scale.


He was like is now, a complete mess, a complete wreck, a shell of the man he once was. It was like a switch would be flipped, and he would be a different person. Ryuu loved sex, the high he got from it, the swell of an orgasm, but he tragically became self absorbed during it. Greedy for his own passion, and almost mind numbingly oblivious to his partner. Which in this case, and for the rest of their lives, would be Kiyoko. It wasn't something she minded, though. She had been controlling the likes of Yuu and Ryuu since their days of high school so she knew how to handle Ryuu. She had more than enough experience, and as time had passed, and their relationship had developed... well, she enjoyed this side of Ryuu.


There wasn't another person in the world that could have Ryuu. Have his love, and his devotion. No, that was Kiyoko's and it would always be Kiyoko's. There wasn't another person in the world that could have Ryuu bent over their bed, his fingers pulling up the sheets as he drooled onto an already wet patch of their sheets, an inconsolable mess of need and arousal. But that was Ryuu, and he was like this because of her.


He was unsurprisingly adventurous. But even something like this, Kiyoko thought they would have to ease into. Much to her surprise, when she had mentioned using a strap on him, Ryuu had been bashfully curious, and even hidden some eagerness with his interest. And so, they had fun.


Their relationship wasn't boring, and sex was fun on it's own as Ryuu seemed to be more comfortable taking the submissive role, something Kiyoko was grateful for because she had always been more dominant when it came to her relationship with men. Maybe that was one of the reasons Ryuu had liked her all this time. Surely, some of his interests and curiosities sprouted when they were younger. And now it was the appropriate time to explore them.


She just knew she was lucky, that was why she treasured what she had in front of her right now. The way Ryuu's muscles twitched, the carved curve of his waist, or the dimples that laid right above his buttocks. Kiyoko's grip tightened on his hips, pulling him back into the thick strap she wore and she smirked at the noise he made.  A hiccupped whimper that was muffled into the sheets beneath him, his fingers twitching as Kiyoko hit all the deep, sensitive, unmentionable parts inside him. She couldn't even begin to imagine how it felt for him, having such a big toy stretch him open. She'd never even experienced something like that, but watching him left her soaking, the warmth between her legs unbearable, but worth the wait to instead focus on overwhelming her sweet husband.


"Fuck, oh God." Ryuu babbled, it was almost incoherent but Kiyoko was paying enough attention to hear his cries. For them, she delivered a swift, harsh kick of her hips, watching the flush spread down his back. "Hah, I'm so - It's so... Ahhh.."


Kiyoko let her fingers dance from his hip, to the small of his back, gently resting it there as she secured her pace, slower, harder rolls of her hips that had even a bigger guy like Ryuu jerking against the bed, "Feels good, huh?" She asked, her words cooed softly, almost in a patronizing sort of way. But it didn't bother Ryuu, no, instead he whined softly, arching his back as she raked her nails over his muscles.


"So good." He slurred, drooling at the corners of his mouth, "It's good. It's good. It's so good." It was like a mantra, like Ryuu was praying for her, worshiping her and everything she was giving him. He was so damn cute, Kiyoko couldn't stand it. "I'm close." He murmured, a warning for her, because Ryuu was good like that. Sometimes in his greed, he didn't make her aware of such things, but when she held the reins. When he was underneath her to any degree he knew how to behave and it only made her smile more.


She laid her palm flat on Ryuu's back, spreading her fingers out, appreciating just how hot he was. "Are you asking for permission? Because if you are... you need to do it properly." There was a way in which they went about things. A system. Ryuu had a pattern, one that he was comfortable with, one that Kiyoko reinforced. 


"Mommy." He whined without a second passing between them, without a breath of hesitation and Kiyoko's heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through her veins, the power Ryuu handed to her was dangerously addicting. Ryuu was tall. He was strong, and impressive. Best of all he was hers. He was at her mercy. He was crying out for her like that and what was she supposed to do? Leave her poor husband out to dry? Maybe another time, but not right now. No, Ryuu was too perfect, too well behaved to punish. "Mommy?" He called again while Kiyoko was too consumed by her own thoughts and arousal to answer, "Mommy I have to come. I have to come so bad, feels so good."


Kiyoko set her thoughts aside, and decided to live in this moment. "You have to come for mommy? Are you all full, baby?" She purred, reaching down for the base of her strap, pulling out of Ryuu and watching the way he fluttered around nothing, practically gaping and begging for more attention. "Turn around and let mommy see."


It was exhilarating watching Ryuu turn around, laying on his back instead. His chest was flushed pink, and his eyes were glossing, tears clinging to the corners as he panted. But what was absolutely stunning about him was his heavy cock, stiff and red with his desperation. Kiyoko almost didn't want to touch him, part of her just wanted to leave him like this, to be admired and to be worshipped. He looked so good, laying on the bed, looking at her with adoration and with arousal. He could touch himself right now, he didn't even look like he would need much attention until he was coming, but he didn't. He laid, lips parted as he panted, waiting for her next move, for her next request.


Kiyoko stepped forward, reaching for his thighs, guiding them around her much smaller hips as she bent down, and brought the silicone strap back to his heat. She watched herself sink inside him, eyes flickering up his face, Ryuu's eyes shut, and his lips parted in a silent cry as he was filled again. Kiyoko held his thighs, keeping them on her hips while she started to kick her hips, working back up to a place that could help Ryuu reach his orgasm. "Mommy wants to watch you touch yourself." She told him, watching his lashes flutter as he looked up at her, "She wants to get off while you're on her cock. Sounds good?"


Ryuu nodded his head, mouthing some words, but they never came to fruition. He reached for his own cock, wrapping his veiny hands around himself as moaning softly when he finally got to alleviate the tension there. He was quick to match the rhythm of Kiyoko's hips, even as she picked up her paces. She was losing focus, because the sight of Ryuu tugging at his own length, and his other hand twisting in the sheets above his head was... mesmerizing. But nothing was as stunning as his lips parting with a particularly harsh cry. "Mommy, I'm - I'm -"


"Do it." She said hotly, not even realizing she was panting, her hips sloppy as she fucked him through it. "Come for me, baby boy." She encouraged further, and within seconds of her approval Ryuu's back was arching off their sheets and he was spilling all over his sun kissed skin, twitching slightly as Kiyoko angled her hips to give him a hard thrust against his prostate. He jerked himself throughout his orgasm, face twisted in pleasure, and his hand eventually stopping as he slumped on the bed, greedy puffs of his breath, and Kiyoko's own pants the only noise between them.


Kiyoko licked her lips, and pulled out a second time. This time, though, she took a moment to completely remove the strap before she urged Ryuu to push himself further up the bed. Once he did so, sluggishly and with a groan, she seated herself on his hips, watching his expression as he relaxed. "I fuck you good, huh?" She asked softly, her hands sliding up Ryuu's chest, and back down.


"Mmm." He replied, not even opening up his eyes, still basking in the bliss of his orgasm.


"You can't sleep yet." She told him, watching his brow twitch, her smile widening. She reached out for her hand, guiding between her wet lips, easily getting his attention. Enough for him to open his eyes, for his head to snap in her direction. "You need to take care of mommy first. But you know that already, right?"


Ryuu licked his lips, his tongue running over his bottom lip in a quick movement. "Yes, mommy." He replied, fingertips subtly rocking over her clit, Kiyoko doing her best not to tremble above him.


"That's my good boy."

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


At first, it was unintentional. The first time he ever saw Megumi cry, he couldn't help but to think he was beautiful. He had long, dark lashes that his tears clung to. His green eyes would shine as  streams of tears tracked down his cheeks. Yuuji was always in awe of Megumi's beauty, but him crying was a completely different story. At first, Megumi crying had just been that; It was beautiful. He was beautiful. But as time passed, as Megumi started to cry in different circumstances, Yuuji came to appreciate Megumi's tears in ways he would never have imagined.


The first time Megumi was vulnerable with Yuuji, he had been when they first got together. When Megumi opened up to Yuuji, the confession was enough to heighten his emotions. Yuuji just did what a good boyfriend would do, he comforted him. That was all. Nothing more came of it, nothing more happened that night.


The next time he saw Megumi's tears, it was during a fight. The both of them argued over something that felt absolutely useless, that Yuuji couldn't even recall now. He just knew with every back and forth their voices raised until they were screaming at each other, until they had exchanged words of pain and anger, and Megumi first tears fell, Yuuji crying himself. This was different. This was Megumi's face flushed with defiance, his eyes wet, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline. This time when Megumi cried, Yuuji felt his stomach swoop. It was no longer just beautiful. There was something more happening here, something Yuuji didn't quite understand. But it was an attraction. He was attracted to this sight of Megumi, tears down his face, worked up, flushed.


Yuuji was left to deal with this fact after their fight, after they made up, and moved forward together. Yuuji liked the sight of Megumi crying, and he felt like there might be something wrong with him because of that. He shouldn't want to see his boyfriend crying, he loved him after all, and yet Yuuji just kept replaying the too few memories he had of Megumi's shining emerald eyes, and tear tracks.


It was a long time after that where Yuuji made him cry during sex. He hadn't hurt him, causing Megumi pain was unimaginable to Yuuji, but Megumi did cry. They were both passionate, and fumbling. There was no patience or reason to their arousal, instead they were grabbing at each other with animalistic fervor. A long night of teasing, and flirting in a more public space meant once they were finally behind a closed door Megumi was Yuuji's to pull apart. They didn't bother making it to the bed, to the couch, to any flat service. Yuuji had Megumi pinned back against their door, his cock fucking deep inside him, holding up his weight with his arms, and keeping him pinned against the service to help.


Yuuji felt just as overwhelmed as Megumi, except when Megumi's arousal swelled, tears brimmed the corners of his eyes, pouring over as they both came, practically at the same time.  It was the first time Megumi had been overwhelmed to the point of tears, and after that it became a desire to make him that overwhelmed every time.


He learned Megumi's body better than Megumi could ever dream to. Played with his tits enough to make them sensitive, and knew every little spot that could leave Megumi in a puddle after Yuuji was done with him. Oddly enough, Yuuji found he couldn't get off in the same sort of ways if Megumi wasn't turned into a babbling, sobbing mess, there was something unbelievably appealing about a stoic guy like Megumi falling apart, and being left to ruin by Yuuji's hands. Yuuji was the only one that saw Megumi like this, so it became his goal to always see him trembling and sobbing on his cock.


But this moment is different from all others.


Yuuji didn’t hate blowjobs, in fact, he preferred them. But every time he and Megumi were intimate, it wasn't long before he was fucking into Megumi hot, wet, folds. Nothing felt better than being buried inside him, and that was just a fact. So he normally was quick to flip Megumi over, and split him open on his girth.


But Megumi was persistent when he pushed him back against the couch, smoothed his hands up his jean clad thighs, and reached for his zipper. Yuuji had no clue what spurred this on, he had no clue what kind of good karma was stacked in his favor, but he was going to enjoy the fuck out of Megumi closing his pretty pink lips around his dick. He looked cute with his mouth stuffed, his cheeks full, and his eyes lazily flickering up from his cock to his Yuuji's face.


He sucked diligently at him, his hand holding the rest of his length and coaxing it. Working up and down with each bob of his head, making sure there wasn't a single part of Yuuji that wasn't pleasured. Yuuji just let him go, and was happy to watch Megumi savor the taste of him, to take his time working him up.


His hands were threaded through his dark, messy locks, and he panted softly as Megumi worked more and more of his shaft into his mouth, as he ran out of space to hold, and Yuuji was sinking into the tight warm space of Megumi's throat. He didn't know why he never thought of it before, how easily blowjobs could make Megumi tear up. It never crossed his mind because Yuuji just enjoyed worshiping the warmth between Megumi's legs. But Megumi's throat convulsed around his dick, and he pulled back, squeezing his eyes shut as he caught himself. Yuuji tightened his grip in Megumi's hair as his cock bobbed uselessly, watching Megumi blink away the ever slight, almost unnoticeable shine to his eyes. "Sorry." Megumi murmured before he reached back for Yuuji, and brought his lips around him again.


"It's all..." Yuuji said, almost in a hypnotized state, "Good." He hissed as Megumi immediately swallowed down Yuuji's dick, every single bob bringing him deeper into that sweet, velvet-like heat. Yuujis' finger twitched with the urge to buck his hips up, or to force Megumi's head down, but he sat still. He waited. He watched Megumi's eyes, watched his long lashes flutter, watched the pink flush on his cheeks extend further down his face as he whined, and moaned on his cock.

Yuuji didn't make a move to fuck into Megumi's mouth until they met their gazes. Until Megumi's eyes met his, and narrowed every so slightly. He didn't say the words, but Yuuji heard them, he knew that look all too well. His baby wanted more from him, and Yuuji was happy to supply.


A single breath didn't even separate the moment between their look and Yuuji's first hard thrust into Megumi's mouth. He heard the gargled groan, but Yuuji didn't give any care. He had one goal right now, and it wasn't even to come, it was to make Megumi sob as he choked on his dick. He shoved Megumi's head down, until his face was pressed into his groin and Yuuji keened as he reached the tightest parts of Megumi's throat, as he felt him convulse around him, his throat angry at the harsh, sudden intrusion into such a deep, untouched space.


"Oh, fuck." Yuuji slurred, loosening his grip on Megumi's hair, letting him pull back. But he tightened it before Megumi could completely pull away. He felt him sputtering around him, saw the drool around his mouth, the tears that were pooling in the corners of his eyes and it urged Yuuji to pistoned his hips up. Once, twice, again and again. He selfishly fucked into Megumi's mouth, vocal as he watched those tears fall, and Megumi squeezed his thighs and sobbed on his dick as he was forced to take.


He looked so pretty. He was so beautiful. He was a mess. Yuuji's mess.


Yuuji was eventually reduced to whimpers, gasps and needy whines as his balls tightened. The sight of Megumi crying, such an abused mess was enough to break any man, that was something Yuuji was confident about.


He let go of Megumi's hair, watched him as he pulled off his dick, sucking in a greedy, desperate breath of air. His lips were red and swollen, drool was down his chin, down his neck, he was practically trembling. Best of all, he was crying. Soft little sobs escaped his lips as he sniffled, his hand rubbing gently at his throat.


Yuuji's hand moved to his cock entirely on it's own, fisting his shaft as he watched Megumi try to control himself. He was so pretty, so sexy. "Yuuji." He rasped, his eyes shifting up to meet his eyes, but they ended up flickering down to where he was jerking himself off. His voice was so broken, so sore. He might not even be able to talk properly tomorrow and that was... that was so hot. Yuuji would likely pay for it, but it was worth it.


He was going to come. When Megumi's eyes met his again, shining with vulnerability, his lips slightly parted, tears clinging to his thick lashes Yuuji felt something inside him crack. He came so suddenly the wind was knocked out of him. He didn't have any time to give warning, barely made any noise, nothing more than a muffled groan. He spilled onto Megumi's face, his cheeks, over his nose, and his brow. Megumi moaned softly, Yuuji's cock dripping into the sofa beneath him as he emptied his balls. "Oh, holy fuck." He shivered as he palmed at the overstimulated crown of his cock. 


He shut his eyes, and let his head fall back against the couch, images of Megumi’s wrecked, messy face in his mind. His cock still pulsating, the leftover feeling of Megumi's mouth still there. Yuuji wiped his hand on his jeans, before he lifted his other arm and wiped the sweat off his brow. He was in the midst of catching his breath when he felt something wet on his cock, he shivered, still in the wake of his pleasure. When he blinked down, his eyes widened at the slight of Megumi licking up the length of his cock, gently wrapping his long, pale fingers around the root of his dick.


“You’re still hard.” He pointed out, drool, tears, and cum drying on his face. His eyes red from the tears, lips still swollen and abused. Megumi shut his eyes, long lashes kissing his pale cheeks as he sucked on the sensitive spot where his length met his head. “We’re not done here.” He told Yuuji and he nearly melted in the spot, his cock twitching in Megumi’s hand. 


“I love you so much.” He blurted out, reaching out an affectionately pet at Megumi’s cheek.


He blinked lazily at him, softly kissing the slit of his dick before he licked at his tip, “I know.” He shrugged his shoulders, but there was a telling blush on his lips. Yuuji couldn’t help but to smile at his shyness before his hand moved to the back of his head and he urged him further down his length. 

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“Would ya look at that?” Osamu’s voice is rough, it’s deep and raspy and Rintarou glances away from his phone screen, down to where Osamu fingers are pressing into his abdomen. It’s clearly distended, and Osamu's palm is a bit sweaty from how hard he's working himself up. Rintarou clicks the lock button on his phone, and drops it to his side as he reaches down, smoothing his own hand over the swell.


"Kinda looks like I'm pregnant." He mumbles, his curiosity piqued. He hadn't given it much thought when Osamu mentioned doing this, when he said he wanted to try fucking Rintarou full. He barely even knows what that means, but he had a few days off from the team, and he decided to pay Osamu a visit because... well.. watching Osamu get worked up is a favorite pastime of Rinatrou's.


Osamu snickers above him, one of his hands smoothing down his thigh, pressing it higher so his cock could sink deeper inside him, "That's funny." He says softly, rocking his hips as he works himself up again. The stamina Osamu has is impressive, which is why it was a shame he never followed through with volleyball. But he's a good cook, and as long as he's happy it's what matters.


Rintarou feels a smirk settle over his face as he blindly reaches for his phone, "You like that? Think it's hilarious?" He questions him softly, watching Osamu lift his gaze from where his cock is fucking into him to Rintarou instead.


"Maybe." Osamu says softly, maybe even a little hesitant, "...Why?"


Rintarou shrugs his shoulders, bringing his attention back to his phone screen, where he continues scrolling through forums, "It's just that you're fucking me like you're in heat or something. Like you're trying to get me pregnant." 


"Yeah, but ya can't." Osamu gives a hard thrust that elicits a soft sigh from Rintarou's lips, pleasure dancing across his nerves.


"Nah, I can't." This is true, but Rintarou feels himself smirk as he turns to look back at Osamu, "But I bet you wish I could. I'm mean... you're the one fucking me full with enough come to get me pregnant.. what? Two or three times over. It's cute." He makes it a point to bring his gaze back to his phone, but he can feel the way Osamu's grip tightens on his thigh.


"Ya think it's cute?" 


"I think you're cute." Rintarou corrects him with ease, but his smug attitude is broken when Osamu gives a particularly hard thrust. His composure cracks a little as Osamu's dick ruts against his prostate, "Mm.. fuck."


Osamu gives another thrust like that, and it feels good, but Rintarou doesn't put his phone down. He's too invested in the thread on screen, and the sex is more for Osamu's pleasure, rather than his own. "I bet ya want me to get ya pregnant." Osamu insists, the softest trace of a whine in his throat.


Oh. Well then. That's an angle that Rintarou can play. He smirks to himself, "Are you asking me to beg for it?" Osamu's hips stutter at the idea, and it's pure gold. The fact that Osamu is needy now, that he's the one fucking him while Rintarou barely pays attention to him and he's still seeking out Rintarou's approval, his help. Rintarou rests his phone on his chest, and tucks his arm behind his head, meeting Osamu's heated gaze. "Samu." He says hotly, watching the way his shoulders square. "Samu, fuck me harder." He gives a deep sigh, arching his back slightly, Osamu's thrusts noticeably getting sloppier. Osamu is actually fucking over his prostate so the noises aren't fake, he's just not suppressing them, but he’s certainly playing them up.


"Yer an ass." Osamu grits, his nails biting into the muscle of his thigh, and Rintarou represses the smirk.


"Please, Samu." He ignores his complaint, clenching down around his cock and appreciating the hiss from Osamu's lips, "Breed me." He moans, running his hand over Osamu's which is still on his swollen abdomen, "Wanna be so big I can't do anything myself. Please, Don't stop." 


"Yer so..." Osamu struggles for a second, before his hips twitch and Rintarou can feel another load spilling inside him. Honestly, it's impressive that he's still going. Osamu’s hot, something Rintarou always thought, but probably didn't vocalize enough. "Annoying." He finishes his sentence as his cock stops twitching. He can feel Osamu soften inside, just slightly, but it's not the first time tonight so he doubts it'll be the last.


He shurgs his shoulders at Osamu's words, "And yet, you're still going to fuck me, huh?" He laughs softly, only giggling louder when Osamu fixes him with a glare. If it's supposed to be intimidating, it fails. "Now, why don't you go back to your little project." He gives his distended abdomen a pat, before he looks back to his phone, " And I'll keep reading." 


"Ya can't even pretend to be interested?" Osamu says, but it's a half joke. They've fucked plenty of times, and a lot of the time, Rintarou is very interested. His dick is hard right now, but he has little interest in touching himself. His sexual drive isn't there, not like Osamu's is, and honestly... he thinks Osamu gets off on being ignored. At least a little bit.


Rintarou smirks, "I think it's more fun when you work for my attention, don't you?"


"Right." Osamu hums, wrapping his arms around Rintarou's middle. He leans down and starts to mouth at his throat, rutting his soft cock against his hole, "Can't say I disagree." 


Rintarou represses the softer smile on his lips, but lets his hand slide into Osamu's locks, gently petting his hair. Osamu's hot breaths tickle his skin as he works himself up again, getting back into the motions of fucking himself into Rintarou, determined to see the swell of come in his abdomen get bigger than it already is. Rintarou knows can probably be a little nicer, but not now, maybe in a round or two. Maybe once he finally finishes reading the thread on his screen. Either way, Osamu isn't actually bothered by his behavior, this isn't the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. 

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


It was a stupid promise they made a teenagers. The first time they ever watched porn, together, mind you. Osamu still couldn’t explain why he was more fascinated by the flush on his brother’s face, and the tent forming in his sweats than the actual scene on the phone in front of them. They were pressed close on the bed, each holding one side of the device as fake moans invaded his ears through the earbuds. It was some raunchy, and stereotypical of porn. Atsumu gracefully picked out something with a step-mom, or something, but Osamu lost interest pretty quickly in the video. No, instead his eyes were on Atsumu, which was anything but appropriate.


They made the promise that day, after the video ended. It was a stupid little thing, Atsumu swiping the video away and groaning as he plucked the earbud from his ear and fell back on the bed. He didn’t want to be a virgin anymore, not that they were even old enough to worry about that stuff, but Osamu lips parted with an offer he should have never made. If they were still virgins in college, then they could help each other . It was stupid, and wrong, but Atsumu, the sick bastard, perked up. He didn’t point out the morality of it, he just laughed, telling him he definitely wouldn’t be a virgin by then, but ultimately agreed.


Osamu wished he could have forgotten about that little pack, but ultimately he never did. Even in the moments where he lost his virginity. It was to his first girlfriend, and was mostly uneventful, but in some sick and twisted fashion he thought of Atsumu. Of that day spent together, of the times he heard him getting off late in the night, of every subtle look he tossed him. Maybe even part of him felt guilty about it, losing his virginity without Atsumu. They did everything together. Lost their first teeth together, learned to drive together, graduated together. Fuck, they were dorming together now, two years in a row.


The space was small, about the same size as the room at home, but they made up for it by pushing their beds together, never commenting on the fact they slept entangled, they just always did it that way. Osamu came home that night to the beds already together, and Atsumu sitting in bed, a video playing loudy from his phone. He glanced up as Osamu shut the door, “How’d it go?” He asked, lowering his video volume, “Yer home so I’m guessing not good.”


Osamu had a date that night, the kind of date where he told Atsumu not to expect him to come back home. He groaned softly, dropping his bag off to the side as he kicked his boots off. “Keep yer trap shut, brat.” Osamu scoffed softly as he stepped around to his side of the bed.


“Damn, that bad?” Atsumu teased him regardless, and Osamu rolled his eyes as he plugged his phone in, setting it on the nightstand as he tugged his hoodie over his head, letting it fall to the floor.


“If ya hafta to know, her ex was our waiter. Which made it awkward when she started to flirt with him.” He complained, still bitter about the night. He didn’t care about getting his dick wet, but it was infuriating that she’d just ignored him like that. There was nothing more humiliating than sitting there for over an hour, watching her eyes searching for their waiter, instead of Osamu.


Atsumu blinked once, then twice, and suddenly his giggles filled the room. “Oh, that’s rich.” He laughed, his phone falling as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, and fell back against the pillows, “Oh my God, that sucks.” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as Osamu glared down at him. “Do ya think if ya stuck around ya coulda gotten a threesome?”


“What would ya know about threesome?” Osamu scoffed, finding some self satisfaction in the way Atsumu’s face fell into a glare, his lips pursing.


“Don’t be pressed because ya couldn’t get ya dick wet.” Atsumu countered, his arms crossing over his chest, “It’s not my fault.”


Maybe not. Osamu hadn’t done anything wrong in theory, and the truth was, he wasn’t that pissed off at the girl. More annoyed he wasted money and dinner and returned home with his tail between his legs. Though, he found it a bit humorous that Atsumu didn’t try defending himself, namely about the threesome. Osamu highly doubted Atsumu had ever been involved with a threesome, but usually his other half was defensive about everything. “Speaking of fucking.” Osamu sat down on the bed, watching as Atsumu eyed him carefully, “Why the fuck are ya always home? When’re ya gonna get a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Whatever.” He waved his hand dismissively, knowing full well by now that Atsumu was bisexual. Truth was, Osamu only ever really liked girls.


Well, girls and his brother.


“I’m not always home.” Atsumu whined softly, pushing himself up, frowning as his head tilted to the side, a soft pout on his lips, “I’m just… busy. With class, ‘n volleyball… so I don’t have the time, y’know?” He reasoned, shrugging his shoulders..


Osamu knew his brother too well though, so he noticed the slight flush on his face. Noticed the way his hands were picking at the sleeves of his hoodie. He blinked, lips parting slightly in realization. No way. There was no way. “Tsumu…” Osamu said warily, noticing Atsumu's cheeks darkened as he hesitantly met his brother’s gaze, “Are ya… have ya ever even fucked before?”


Atsumu’s entire face flushed, and he scrambled, shoving at Osamu’s shoulders as he raised his hands defensively. “What the fuck?” He asked, his voice cracking and Osamu felt something deep inside him snap. Atsumu was a virgin. This entire time Atsumu had never fucked another person, he never let someone fuck him. This entire time his brother was untouched, and Osamu couldn’t help but to feel like it was for him . “Samu… d-don’t get smug! Just ‘cuz I don’t fuck anything with two legs don’t mean—” He stumbled ove rhis words, his cheeks red, sweat on his brow, “I’m no whore, yeah? I’m just waitin’ is all, that kinda shit happens at the right moment, or whatever.”


“Ya callin’ me a whore then?” Osamu asked, watching Atsumu’s eyes widen before they narrowed.


“If the shoe fits.” He frowned before a heavy silence settled over them, Atsumu’s teeth digging into his bottom lip, “Samu… why’re ya… lookin’ at me like that?”


Osamu shrugged his shoulders, trying to repress the urge to smile. “It’s just… remember that promise we made? Way back when?”


He saw the recognition in Atsumu’s eyes before he spoke. For a moment, it felt like he was going to deny it, like he was hesitating to be honest before his eyes strayed away from Osamu and he nodded his head quietly. Osamu could feel heat under his skin, wondered for a moment if this was one of his twisted fucking dreams. But usually, in those dreams, it didn’t take this long to get Atsumu underneath him. “Doesn't matter.” Atsumu finally said, shaking his head, “Yer not a virgin, so, proposal’s invalid.”


That was a good point, he wasn’t. He lost his virginity during his third year, and always assumed Atsumu followed shortly after. He was more flirtatious than him, more social. It only made sense. But it was all an act, the truth was his dear brother was a bashful virgin. And that was delicious. “I mean if yer willing to let me fuck ya, is it really invalid?”


“Who said that?!” Atsumu raised his voice, his brows furrowing as he glared at Osamu, kicking at his thigh, “Just ‘cuz ya couldn’t get laid tonight doesn’t mean yer gonna get sympathy from me, gross!”


Osamu grabbed Atsumu’s calf, squeezing it in his hand as he inched closer, watching Atsumu’s eyes follow his every moment, his hands pressing against Osamu’s chest, but never pushing him away. “Fine then. If ya can tell me ya don’t want me to fuck ya, I’ll leave ya alone.” Osamu hovered over Atsumu, bringing his leg over his shoulder, letting it rest there as he smoothed his hand further down his thigh, smirking at the panicked, flushed expression on Atsumu’s face. “But I think yer still a virgin because ya’ve always wanted me fuckin’ ya.”


“Samu.” Atsumu whined softly, his hands fisting in his shirt, and a second later, his bottom lip trembled as his eyes shined with tears. “Y-Ya fuckin’, bastard .” He hiccuped. Osamu blinked down at his brother as the first few tears fell. “We were supposed to do it all together. Everything . Then ya went and shoved yer stupid cock in that bitch.” He sobbed out his confession, banging one of his hands against Osamu’s chest, where his heart was breaking inside his chest. “I hate ya for that. I hate ya so much.”


“Tsumu.” Osamu whispered, a hollow pit forming in his gut as he watched Astumu cry beneath him. Despite it all, he was pretty. He was crying for him, hurt by him, for longer than Osamu could have imagined. He reached down with his other hand, cupping Atsumu’s cheek, frowning when he turned his face away, “Tsumu, stop.”


“No. Fuck you .” Atsumu wailed, punching his chest again, it was light, and didn't hurt in the slightest. “I ain’t forgivin’ ya. Never. I hate ya.” He said again, and it wasn’t the first time Osamu had heard it, but he didn’t like how Atsumu was saying it now, he hated hearing him so broken and in pain.


“I love ya.” Osamu told him, petting his fringe back as Atsumu hiccuped, shaking his head, “Tsumu, I love you.” Osamu leaned down, peppering kisses along his jaw line, petting his fingers through his locks, until his fingers settled at the nape of his neck, “I love ya so much, Tsumu.”


Atsumu shook his head, “Stop it.”


Osamu nipped at the junction of his jaw, blood pumping aggressively through his veins when Atsumu’s breath hitched. “I can’t. I just love ya so much.” He confessed, kissing at the corner of Atsumu’s mouth, “Wanted it to be ya, i always did.”


Hesitantly, Atsumu turned his head, eyes wide as he stared up at Osamu. “Did ya… really?” He asked, Osamu gently wiping at the tear tracks on his face, “Samu… did ya..?”


“Of course, I did.” He told him, reaching out to cup both of Atsumu’s cheeks, forcing his eyes to stay connected to him, stopping him from turning away again. “Thought about ya too. Never knew you wanted me so badly, Tsumu, thought I was crazy. Thought I was disgustin’.” He confessed to him, frown tugging at his lips as Atsumu’s eyes softened.


Atsumu’s hands let go of their grip, smoothing up and moving his shoulders instead, “Yer not. Yer perfect, Samu. That’s why people like ya so much.” Atsumu told him, his fingertips pressing into the spot where his neck met his shoulder, “It’s why I get so jealous… don’t…” He paused, his eyes flickering down to Osamu’s lips, he could feel his finger twitching against his throat, “Don’t like sharing ya, Samu.”


“Tsumu.” Osamu whispered hotly, his fingers sliding back into Atsumu’s hair before he leaned down, licking hotly at his mouth. Never before had he touched his brother like this, he thought about it often enough, but now it was finally happening. He parted Atsumu’s mouth immediately, running his tongue over the seam of his lips, and licked inside. He could feel Atsumu fumbling to keep up, as if he’d never been kissed and that idea makes his stomach swoop. Atsumu has never been touched, he’s Osamu’s to ruin, to pick apart, to put back together. His puzzle to solve. Atsumu’s mouth was sweet, and tasted like the popsicles they had in the tiny freezer of their mini fridge. It made him hungrier for him, running his tongue over his teeth, sucking on his tongue, and pulling at his hair.


“Sa- hhah -Samu.” Atsumu slurred behind him, and Osamu brought his hips forward, rocking his half hard cock into… oh. Atsumu was hard. He was hard and hot underneath him. Osamu pulled back, nipping at Atsumu's top lip before he looked between them, and could see the firm outline of Atsumu’s cock through his tiny shorts. “It’s… hot.” Atsumu stuttered, reaching to wrap his hand around his thigh, pulling it from Osamu’s shoulder, and tucking it easily against his chest. “Please.”


He didn’t know if Atsumu even knew what he was begging for, but the sight of how flexible it was, how needy he was made Osamu’s head spin. “Shit.” He mumbled, palming at his clothed cock, and watching Atsumu’s face twist with pleasure, “Shit.” He repeatedly dumbly, reaching for his waistband. Atsumu let go of his thigh, and lifted his hips so Osamu could pull down the offensive garment, nearly drooling when he saw Atsumu hard, sobbing mast.


He watched Atsumu’s hand reach for himself, cradling his dick delicately as he stroked himself, shivering from how sensitive he was, “Don’t even know how many times I’ve come thinkin’ ‘bout this.” He confessed softly, his other hand moving to wrap around the nape of Osamu’s neck, pulling him down to reconnect their lips. Osamu didn’t argue with him, completely entranced by his brother, licking into his mouth again, reaching between them to touch Atsumu himself, his hand wrappedaround Atsumu as they jerked him off together. Atsumu was whining into his mouth, nibbling pathetically at his lips, melting into the bed with just this little bit of attention.


“I’m gonna fuck ya.” Osamu breathed hotly into his mouth, appreciating the hitch of Atsumu’s breath, “I’m gonna fuck yer virgin hole, I’m gonna be the only one to ever fuck ya, Tsumu. The only fucking one.”


“Samu.” Atsumu arched as his dick was squeezed, his breath quickening.


Osamu didn’t stop there, he pumped his cock faster, Atsumu’s hand following pathetically behind, “Gonna make yer hole mine, yeah? It was made for me, after all. For me.” He groaned, his thumb swiping over the slight of Atsumu’s cock, felt him spill all over himself a second later, pathetically twitching beneath him, hot breath fanning over Osamu’s face. “Say it, Tsumu.” He demanded, his eyes scanning the blissed out expression he wore, memorizing it.


“Yers. ‘m yers.” Atsumu said breathlessly, squinting at him, “Made for each other. We were.. nnhg ” He mewled as Osamu gave his cock another squeeze. Osamu grinned, pressing his mouth hard against Atsumu’s, so fucking proud he agreed. Happy to hear the words from his mouth. He didn’t know how sweet they would sound in real life, hearing them spoken out loud, but it was better than he ever could have imagined. Osamu leaned back, shifting to reaching his dresser by their bed, pulling out the lube, hesitating when he saw his condoms. It was the smart thing to do, but he wanted to feel Atsumu raw. It was his right afterall, they were twins, born together, one in the same. Osamu shut the drawer, lube in hand and condoms forgotten as he turned back to Atsumu. He was reaching for his thighs already, pulling them up to his chest, exposing himself shamelessly to Osamu.


“Look at ya.” He purred, trying not to drool at the sight of Atsumu's tight hole, lying in wait for him, never touched before. Osamu reached down, thumbing at it, watching Atsumu’s brows draw together. He flicked the bottle open, and poured some over his rim, appreciating the way Atsumu shivered before Osamu prodded him with his index finger, “Yer so shameless, Tsumu… maybe ya are a bit of a slut.” Atsumu shook his head, gasping as Osamu’s finger sunk inside him. Well, more like Atsumu swallowed him up. It was amazing how easily he was enveloped by Atsumu’s warmth, slowly working his digit in and out, watching him, “Ya are, though… yer ass is so hungry for me.”


Atsumu clenched around him, his nails biting into his own thighs, dick already filling out. He had come over his abdomen, stains on his hoodie, and he noticed drool at the corners of his mouth. Osamu barely touched him and he was this desperate. It was absolutely amazing, Osamu was in awe of him. Who would have guessed his virgin brother was such a good boy? Who would have guessed that his body was already made to be fucked? It was a shame that no one got to see this, but Osamu wouldn’t have it any other way, far too selfish to share. He pressed a second finger into his hole, and Atsumu arched his back. 


“Samu.. samu..  oh my…” He babbled, hugging his legging tighter to his body as his eyes rolled back as they shut. Osamu began to leisurely fuck his fingers into him, scissoring them apart and enjoying the view of Atsumu before him. It might be unfair, putting his cock inside him when Atsumu was already getting off to his fingers. It was like he wouldn’t properly be able to appreciate him.


“It’s just my fingers…” Osamu said, curling them inside him, watching the way Atsumu’s toes followed the motion, curling themselves. “God, yer so sensitive… so hot inside.” 


Atsumu grit his teeth, lashes fluttering as he opened his eyes and glared at Osamu, “I’ve never done this before, ya asshole, wha’did’ya expect?” He hissed at him, and Osamu felt himself give a few hard thrusts, adding in a third finger with little warning, watching as Atsumu trembled, feeling smug about shutting him up. “A-Asshole.” Atsumu groaned, panting hotly as he slumped back against their mattress.


Osamu grinned, glancing down as he spread his fingers, pulling them all the way out before working them back in, “I didn’t expect this…” He said honestly, “But I’m loving it.” He leaned down, watching as Atsumu looked at him through the slits of his eyes, Osamu kissed him again, Atsumu pressing back immediately. He hummed when he felt Atsumu’s tongue swiping over his bottom lip, parting them to allow him access, but he couldn’t help himself when he sucked on Atsumu’s tongue as it invaded the warm space of his mouth. Atsumu let out the most delicious whine, as he sloppily licked at Osamu’s mouth. Osamu purposefully stretched his fingers inside him, angling them down to rut the over Atsumu’s prostate, and the moment he struck it he felt Atsumu’s entire body trembling, his ass clenching around his fingers.


His mouth opened as he keened and Osamu sucked on his bottom lip, kissing down his chin and nipping at his throat. “What was.. That’s…” Atsumu slurred, and Osamu grinned against his neck, savoring his brother’s cluelessness and rutting his fingers over the spot again, relishing in the way he tightened and strained, panting hotly and letting out another cry. “S-Samu!” He grit and Osamu leaned back, nipping at his chin.


“Feels good, huh? It’s proof yer made for me, Tsumu. I’m the only one who knows about this spot.” He pressed his fingertips into it once more, and Atsumu was wrecked, his thighs shaking, his knuckles white with their grip, and drool in the corners of his mouth. Osamu leaned all the way back, withdrawing his fingers so he could lube up his cock instead. He was achingly hard, groaned as he wrapped his hand around himself, smoothing the lube onto his cock, wiping the excess off on their sheets. He glanced up, noticing Atsumu’s eyes on his cock and he smirked, shifting closer, and brought his cock up, laying it beside Atsumu’s matching one. “Aren’t we pretty.”


“Could ya sound any more conceited.” Atsumu rolled his eyes, but Osamu smirked, bringing his cock down to rut it over his hole. Atsumu’s eyes rolled back again as Osamu pressed the tip against his hole, “That’s not… it's not gonna fit… is it?”


Osamu cooed at his brother’s worries, placing his other hand on his thigh, pressing it more flush to Atsumu’s chest, “I think it will. Perfectly.” He looked down, watching as he guided himself to Atsumu’s puckered hole, pressing inside slowly, inch by inch. It was mesmerizing, seeing himself disappear, watching Atsumu swallow him. They did fit perfectly, like a key in a lock, like the last part of a puzzle. Atsumu was so hot inside, Osamu had never felt something so tight, something so warm. “Holy fuck.” He hissed, setting his hand on the bed near Atsumu’s waist as he let his hips so the rest of the work.

He glanced up to check on Atsumu, to see how he was and he looked…. broken. His lips parted, brows furrowed, tears in his lashes. He wasn’t breathing, which was the first time Osamu needed to coax out of him, worried it was a bit too much for him. He leaned down, kissing Atsumu’s bottom lip, before he nuzzled into his cheek. “I need you to breathe, Tsumu.” He told him, and Atsumu immediately did, the second Osamu asked. “You okay?” He asked, peppering kisses over his cheek.

Atsumu’s legs wrapped around Osamu’s waist, and his arms came around his shoulders, “Samu. Samu.” He panted, pressing his cheek against his brother’s, “Don’t move, don’t move, it’s so... “ Osamu felt his heart skip a beat, worried for a moment before Atsumu started to rub his cheek affectionately against his, “So good .” He slurred, tightening his arms and legs, clinging like a koala, “Don’t ever wanna move. Don’t ever wanna—Don’t—” He hiccuped, and a second later Osamu felt his tears on his cheek.


Osamu smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to Atsumu’s temple, “Shhh, I got ya.” He whispered, threading his fingers into his hair, and pressing their mouths together. Atsumu’s hands fisted in his shirt, and Osamu slid his other hand under his hoodie, pushing it up to run his fingers over Atsumu’s toned body. He took such good care of himself, and for a long time, Osamu wanted to touch him like this. It was a dream come true getting to do it now. Feeling Atsumu eagerly licking and sucking at his mouth, whimpering as Osamu thumbed over his already perked nipples.


Once Atsumu was lost in the kiss, he started to rock his hips, pulling out and pushing back in. Atsumu groaned, panting hotly, his lips pausing as Osamu gently rolled into him. He watched Atsumu’s face, pressed his forehead against his, kissing at the furrow between his brows, “Ya take so well.” He praised him softly, his arms wrapping around Atsumu’s middle so he could bring their bodies flushed together, “Ya feel good too.”


“I do?” Atsumu asked softly, his ass twitching around him, “I’m doing good?”


Osamu felt a warm swell in his chest, answering in the same beat that Atsumu spoke, “‘Course ya are. Ya were made for me, Tsumu. Made to be fucked.” He looked between them, where Atsumu’s cock was pressed against his shirt, trapped between their bodies, “Ya know that, right?” He looked back up at him, meeting Atsumu’s hazy gaze.


“Yeah.” He replied, squeezing Osamu tighter, “Made for each other.” He agreed, cuddling impossibly closer and Osamu wasn’t sure if he ever had someone cuddle into him like this during sex. Usually it was fast and hard, even his first time, even with his girlfriends. but he swore he could feel Atsumu’s heart beating through his chest right now. “Samu?” Atsumu asked, and Osamu tilted his head toward him as Atsumu leaned back, their noses brushing together, “I don’t want ya holdin’ back, kay? I trust ya. Want ya to feel good too.”


Osamu smiled, brushing his lips over Atsumu’s, “I’d never hold back, even for ya.” He felt Atsumu smile, and he gave a harder kick of his hips in response. And like that, Osamu found his rhythm. He leaned back further, holding onto Atsumu’s waist as he fucked into him, his gaze shifting from his face, to watch the way his cock sunk into his ass, enjoying every noise of his brother’s vocal lips, or the wet sounds between their bodies. Atsumu’s hoodie was bunched up by his shoulders, which meant his body was on display to him. His hard cock, his perky tits, his thick thighs firmly wrapped around him. Atsumu was beautiful.


He doesn’t know what that made  him, being attracted to the person he shares so many similarities with. Osamu isn’t as fit as his brother is, not anymore, not since he quit volleyball. Their bodies are a lot different now, Atsumu is carved like a God, sculpted to perfection where Osamu has grown softer. Atsumu’s dick is longer, not as fat, but barely noticeable. He might be slightly self conscious, but… but Atsumu is so into this. He’s so into him, crying his name, arching into him, babbling about how good he feels. It was strange, looking down at Atsumu, his face twisted with pleasure, feeling his hands pulling at him, it’s familiar. Sick and twistedly familiar, but there was a part of Osamu that just adores that. Further proof that he and Atsumu were soulmates, were meant to be intertwined like this for life. They were joined right now, like they once were, they were one .


There was nothing more overwhelming than that thought. Each thrust into Atsumu’s heat, every brush over his prostate, every moan they exchanged, it was just how it should be. The two of them together, always. He knew Atsumu was getting close again, he could feel the way he was clenching around him, saw how desperate his dick was, how hitched and whiny every moan was. Osamu was close himself, and while he never wanted this moment to end, he told himself it was only the first.


He wrapped his hand around Atsumu’s cock, stroking him watching as Atsumu’s back arched and he cried hotly, “D-Don’t… I’m too close. Samu, don’t—” He cried, his hands pulling hard enough on his shirt enough to stretch it out, completely ruining it. “Stop, stop—” He hiccuped but Osamu didn’t listen. As Atsumu’s orgasm washed over him, he was clenching down harder on his cock, making it more and more difficult to fuck into his heat. Atsumu spilled into his stomach and chest with a cry, tears on his lashes, his tongue hanging out lewded as his eyes rolled back. It was like porn, but much better. Watching as he turned his brother from virgin, to a personalized slut. If this was just their first time, Osamu didn’t think it would take long to make Atsumu the most perfect cocksleeve for him, could probably spend every night buried inside him, the two of them joined together for hours, as they should be.


Osamu came briefly after him, coming inside of him, and filling his insides with his claim. It made Atsumu tremble, his chest rising and falling as hot, thick seed coated his walls. He bet his brother loved it, being filled with Osamu’s release. Osamu leaned down, licking at Atsumu’s tongue, sucking it into his mouth, feeling Atsumu twitch around his cock. Osamu groaned hotly as he kissed him, Atsumu laid lifelessly, unable to keep up with Osamu, completely spent. “Yer sucha mess.” Osamu said into his mouth, his arms wrapping around him, sliding down his back to cup at his ass cheeks, squeezing them hard in his hands.


“Samu.” He slurred, licking the drooling from his lips. Osamu pressed another hot kiss to his mouth, one of his hands dipping lower to feel where his softening cock was still inside Atsumu’s body, they both moaned, the noise muffled into their kiss, “Love ya, Samu. Love ya so much.”


Osamu smiled, leaning back to press his face affectionately into his neck, “Love you too, Tsumu.”


“Ya don’t hafta move, do ya?” Atsumu asked, his voice quiet, his fingers threading into Atsumu’s hair. “We can stay like this, right?”


Osamu tilted his head, pressing a kiss to his pulse, “‘Course we can, baby. I’m never goin’ anywhere.”

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“That’s it. Look at you .” Jeongguk cooed down at Taehyung, scratching underneath the chin of his very good boy. Taehyung was sitting happily on his knees, a dopey smile on his lip, eyes shining, face covered in come. “Just stay still for me.” He sighed, reaching for his phone, abandoned beside him on the couch. He took a picture of Taehyung; his swollen lips, spit covered mouth, his wet lashes, Jeongguk’s seed covering his boyish features. He was stunning. Jeongguk sent the picture out to his group chat with the other guys, and sighed softly, tucking his phone back under his thigh. He felt so good .


He loved when Taehyung wanted to play like this, when he slipped away and let Jeongguk hold the leash, literally . Jeongguk licked his lips, running his fingers through his hair so Taehyung sat still, unwavering, waiting for direction. His cock was hard between his legs, his ear clips were off center because of Jeongguk’s hands, but he looked pretty. He listened well. Jeongguk was so happy he was with Taehyung tonight, he could already imagine how envious the other guys were going to be that they weren’t here to see Taehyung like this. To use him.


Jeongguk sat for a moment, watching Taehyung before he sat up some, tucking his cock back in his pants before he patted his lap, “Up, Taetae. Let me see you.” Taehyung moved immediately, grabbing the edge of the couch as he lifted himself up and straddled Jeongguk’s hips. He put his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, and leaned forward, nuzzling into Jeongguk’s neck a little whimper escaping out. Jeongguk felt some of his own release being rubbed onto him, but he let it go, squeezing Taehyung’s hips to soothe him. “Does it hurt, puppy?” He asked him, and Taehyung’s hips twitched before he nodded his head. “Oh, baby.” He clicked his tongue, looking down at Taehyung's drooling cock.


He was flushed, and red. His cock was heftly, swollen with need. He looked so pretty, though, Jeongguk almost didn’t want to touch him. He licked his lips, tugging out his phone again, “Lean back.” He told Taehyung to hesitate for a moment, before leaning back. He placed his hands on Jeongguk’s knees, exposing himself to him, pout on his lips. He took a few photos of Taehyung’s cock, before he zoomed back, “Smile for you daddies, Taetae.” Taehyung’s smile was signature. A boxy grin with furrowed brows, Jeongguk was tempted to use it as his wallpaper, because Taehyung was just that precious. He set his phone down again, before he reached out, gently cradling Taehyung’s cock.


Taehyung hissed, a low whine escaping his lips. His hips bucked up immediately and Jeongguk grinned, moving his hand and watching Taehyung’s eyes immediately open as he looked at him in confusion, a question on his lips that never was brought to fruition. “Good puppies know to stay still, be patient. If you want your treat, you have to listen.” He explained, “Understand?”


Taehyung’s chest was rising and falling, but he nodded his head. Jeongguk wrapped his fist around him again, watching Taehyung’s face as he started to pump his cock. He went slow, appreciated the way Taehyung bit down on his bottom lip, his thighs trembling as he tried his hardest to be patient for Jeongguk. It was mean, he knew it was. Taehyung had been so good for him, parted his lips so pretty, and stuck out his tongue. He let Jeongguk fuck his mouth, come on his face, use him as he pleased. The least Jeongguk could do now was give him the relief he had been denied. But this was so much fun. He loved watching Taehyung’s will crumble, and liked watching him shiver.  Taehyung must have liked it too, judging by the way his cock was crying enough to work as lube. It made it easier to stroke him, Jeongguk taking his sweet time, slow pulls, watching each bead of precum pool and then drip down his length. Taehyung had such a big, pretty cock. Jeongguk could worship it all day and all night.


He heard the hitch in Taehyung’s back, his body arching further, but his hips remaining lax. Jeongguk couldn’t imagine how hard this was, hell, he wasn’t even sure if he could stay still. His desperation would no doubt lead him to fuck wildly into the fist around him, but Taehyung was doing such a good fucking job, Jeongguk showe dhis appreciate by smoothing his thumb over the slit in his cock, breathing heavily when Taehyung keens, gritting his teeth with a harsh exhale. “Fuck, baby. You’re so hot.” Jeongguk whispered hotly, looking down at his cock, pumping his fist faster without even realizing it. “Is my puppy gonna come? Huh, baby? Are you at your limit?” He asked and Taehyung started to nod wildly.


Jeongguk didn’t let up, in fact, he gave Taehyung more. He squeezed his dick, palmed at his head, stroked him from crown to root. “C’mere.” He said, wrapping his arm around Taehyung’s middle, pulling himself closer. There was drool down his chin, tears in his eyes but Taehyung moved quickly. He wrapped himself around Jeongguk, licking hotly at his mouth as he whimpered, hiccuped sobs escaping his lips. Jeongguk licked right back at him, biting down on his bottom lip, sucking on his tongue, groaning into his mouth as Taehyung’s cock pulsed in his hand. “Good puppy. My good, good puppy.” 


“Gah—” Taehyung choked on his groan, his nails digging into Jeongguk’s shoulders as he head fell to his shoulder and he trembled. Jeongguk picked his lips, jerking Taehyung through his orgasm, watching the muscles in his back as he peaked. Taehyung came with a gasp, spilling into Jeongguk’s hand, and between their bodies. Jeongguk groaned softly, the twitch of Taehyung’s cock as he came was too hot for him to handle, and the flush on Taehyung’s skin was stunning.


“Good boy.” He whispered, peppering kisses into his hair as Taehuung panted against his neck, slumping into his body as Jeongguk rubbed his hand up and down his back to calm him down. God, Taehyung was a dream come true. Jeongguk smiled when he felt Taehyung’s lips. He kissed softly at his neck, between his hot breaths. “That’s it, baby, You did so good.” 


Taehung nodded his head, nuzzling further into his neck, “Fuck.” He whispered, the first thing he said in the last hour or so. It made Jeongguk laugh softly, but he completely understood where he was coming from. “I can’t believe you took photos.” 


Jeongguk grinned, “I had to brag to the other guys. You’re not mad?” 


“Hell no.” Taehyung leaned back, smile on his lips, “I love when you make them jealous.” 


Jeongguk hummed softly, reaching out to take Taehyung’s chin in his hand, “That’s only because you love how hard they fuck you in return. Isn’t that right, pup?” 


Taehyung smirked, leaning forward, “Woof.” He whispered, looking between Jeongguk’s eyes before he closed the space between them, another hot kiss pressed to his lips, his arms hugging Jeongguk closer as they exchanged breaths, and muffled their moans into each other. Taehyung was something else, for sure. But he was definitely Jeongguk’s baby. Undoubtedly a good boy

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


Every touch burned, further proof that their actions were that of sin. They were breaking the law, and all that was holy and right saw them, and knew they were guilty. But Seokjin didn’t understand how something could feel so good, and be so wrong. He couldn’t say it felt right, because he was very aware that it wasn’t. He knew that someone like himself wasn’t supposed to touch Yoongi. He was supposed to remain pure, he was supposed to be untouched, worshipped at a distance. But Yoongi had soft curves, and round cheeks. He had long fingers, and broad shoulders. He was pink in his softest places, and Seokjin was enamoured by him. But he wasn’t the only one. Yoongi had suitors, he had admirers, everyone sought after him. Seokjin couldn’t have him, not only because he was a beta but because he was a lower class.


He didn’t have him now, even as he left bruises on his hips from his grip, even as he grit his teeth as he fucked hard into him. Yoongi was so wet. He wasn’t the first person Seokjin had ever entered, but even women weren’t wet and soft in the ways Yoongi was. They weren’t as warm. They didn’t make sounds nearly as pretty. Maybe it was the fact they weren’t supposed to be doing this that was so appealing. Seokjin knew he would be locked away if he was caught, if someone knew their treasured prince was being violated. But the punishment meant nothing to him, not when he had Yoongi in his hands like this. When he finally got to experience the pleasure that was fucking an omega.


Yoongi breathed out a moan, his back arching as Seokjin fucked him thoroughly. He pressed into his hands, he encouraged the touch as Seokjin just couldn’t help himself. He let his nails cut into Yoongi’s hips, relishing in the whimper that bubbled out of the beautiful boy’s lips. Seokjin leaned down, licking the sweat up from his throat, wanting nothing more than to dig his teeth in, mark his claim on the one person who could never be his.


“If you do that…” Yoongi panted, as if he could read his thoughts, “They’ll kill you in an instant.”


It was true. Visible marks were a big no, he knew that, Yoongi didn’t need to tell him. But claiming… claiming was a death sentence. Not only for him, but for Yoongi too. Their lives would be ended, one big bang and that was it. Seokjin hummed in response, his fingers dancing from Yoongi’s hips, to the pathetic excuse of a dick. He rubbed his thumb over the small head of his cock, and smirked as he watched Yoongi tremble, felt him trembling. Ah, that was delicious. “Would that be so bad, my prince?” He asked, pressing his palm into Yoongi’s mound, into his tiny dick. His hips moved slower, but he kept each snap hard, “We could go together.”


Yoongi scoffed softly, his hands clinging to Seokjin’s broad shoulders, lips parting in a silent moan as Seokjin worked over all the sensitive spots inside him, as he stimulated him from the outside. Seokjin smiled, leaned down to press his lips to Yoongi’s perked nipple. Yoongi cried, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Don’t be stupid.” He hissed out at him, every breath leaving his lips was hot, loud. He moaned with every piston of Seokjin’s hips, his face flushed, skin shining with sweat. Seokjin knew he was stupid, but Yoongi was no better than him.


“My apologies, your highness.” He said softly, biting down on the pricked bud, smirking when Yoongi arched into him again. “Your scent just makes everything a little hazy.” It was true. Betas weren’t as sensitive to scents, but when it came to omegas, especially omega males, they were overwhelming. It didn’t matter if he was a beta or not, male omegas were that desirable. They controlled, they subdued. Seokjin, like any other person, was weakened by Yoongi. Especially like this, especially while he was so wet, so hot. 


Yoongi didn’t reply, and Seokjin didn’t blame him. He looked like he was seconds away from breaking. He could see it. The way his teeth were ripping at his bottom teeth, the way his nails were cutting into Seokjin’s shoulders, the fact his heat was pulsating around him. His prince was moments away from his orgasm, from clenching hard and spilling into the sheets beneath him. Seokjin too could feel it, that swelling heat in his abdomen, the heaviness in his sack. “Feel good?” Seokjin couldn’t help but ask, leaning forward to press his head against Yoongi’s, watching as he flushed and forced his eyes away from him. Adorable.


“You know the answer to that.”


“Mayhap.” Seokjin murmured, leaning down to brush his lips over his prince’s, “But it feels more real when you tell me how good I’m making you feel.”


“Seokjin.” Yoongi whispered, and hearing his name on Yoongi’s lips, sighed out like that… It was a dream come true. Seokjin couldn’t help himself as he kissed him again, this time harder, slotting their mouths together unceremoniously. He drove his hips into Yoongi’s with fervor, his hands returned into his hips. He was so tight around him, panting into his mouth, writhing and squirming as both of their orgasms rose. “Seokjin.” He gasped again, a telltale hitch in his breath. He and Yoongi had snuck away in the night enough times for Seokjin to know what it meant, and all it did was spur him to bring Yoongi to that edge, for him to ride his high, to come around him. He wanted to feel it. 


He nipped at Yoongi’s bottom lip, wrapped his arms tight around him as he started to shake with the power of his orgasm, and as he clenched down on Seokjin’s cock he felt himself slipping as well. He pulled out, groaning hotly, coming against Yoongi’s little cock, and his folds, knowing coming inside could cause problems. As tempting as it was, he knew he couldn’t do such a thing. He wanted to know how he felt, desperately, but he still enjoyed his life. He enjoyed Yoongi. Meeting like this, being intimate was enough of a risk.


They panted against each other as they relaxed, Yoongi’s hands slowly easing their grip before he let him go, his hands falling above his head, eyes shut, expression peaceful. There was going to be a time, somewhere in the future, where it was impossible to have Yoongi like this. Either because he would be someone else’s officially, or because Seokjin wouldn’t be around anymore. He savored these moments, savored the prince as he was vulnerable and exposed underneath him. “Stop staring. I need to be cleaned up.” Yoongi said, but there wasn’t the harshness that might be there when he was talking to other servants. Seokjin smiled softly, and leaned back from him, shoving his cock back into his trousers before he stood up to get them some water, and a cloth to clean with.


“Of course, my prince. Right away.” He winked back at Yoongi, laughing when he flushed and turned away from him. Maybe in a different time and place, Yoongi could be his. But right now, where he was and who he was, that reality wasn’t possible. And Seokjin’s heart ached for it. 

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯

“Just a little bit longer, and I’ll take it off.” Yoongi said, his voice airy, and light. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked down at Jeongguk, rocking his hips meticulously. Jeongguk groaned, fingers twitching on his hyung’s tiny hips, his teeth digging harshly into the abused flesh of his bottom lip. He couldn’t handle this, he was at his limit, tipping over the edge and no way to find release. “Shh, just a little longer now.”


Little felt like hours. Little could be days. Yoongi controlled their pacing right now, he controlled Jeongguk’s orgasm and this wasn’t something he could handle. He felt like he was going to explode, his insides a mess, his body trembling. Yoongi rolled his hips, fucking back down on Jeongguk’s stiff cock, and the motion had Jeongguk reeling. He slammed his head back into the pillows, his nails digging into Yoongi’s soft skin, panting hotly. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do this, it was too much.


“That’s it, Jeongguk. That’s hyungie’s good boy.” Yoongi purred. It was relief, a single stream of sunlight in the dark cavern Jeongguk was buried beneath. He continued to pant, but his chest felt light, he felt more relief than he imagined he could. “See, baby, I knew you could handle it. You’re doing so good.” He continued, and Jeongguk whined softly. He felt Yoongi picking up his pace, bouncing and clenching around Jeongguk’s cock, riding him with fervor. Jeongguk was in pain at this point, the need for release all too overpowering. But he couldn’t, not until Yoongi took the ring off his dick.


He watched Yoongi’s face, the bliss was clear, he was enjoying himself. For Jeongguk, that fact was enough. As long as he made his hyung feel good, then the torture was worth it wasn’t it? Yeah, he was sure it was. But that didn’t stop his greed, it didn’t stop the need in his veins, the way it was pumping through him and consuming. He wanted to come. He wanted his release. If he was so good, if he was doing so well, didn’t he deserve that too? “Hyungie.”


“Baby.” Yoongi responded in the same breath, bending down to kiss him. It was brief, too fuckng brief. Yoongi licked at his top lip, and then brushed their mouths together, teasing a real taste his his doll like lips. Jeongguk knew they were sweet, he knew them intimately and he wanted more. He wanted everything from his pretty little hyung. He whined as Yoongi leaned back, and Yoongi smiled, “You have to come that badly?” He looked between Jeongguk’s eyes, who nodded eagerly, “Okay then. Fuck hyungie really good, hmm? Make me come, and then I’ll help my baby out.”


“Y-You mean it?” Jeongguk asked, hope laced in his voice, eyes shining.


Yoongi laughed softly, nodding his head and petting back his fringe. Jeongguk didn’t need to be told twice. His grip on Yoongi’s hips tightened, and Yoongi groaned in response. Jeongguk was violent as he pistoned his hips up, he did do almost carelessly, fucking into Yoongi’s body, grunting with every movement, watching Yoongu’s face twist with pleasure, his nails scratching down Jeongguk’s chest as he cried out his name. He was selfish right now, he was the opposite of good. He was only fucking Yoongi like this so his hyung would touch him, so he could come. He should be putting Yoongi first. He knew he should but he couldn’t stop himself, it was like his body had a mind of its own as he ruined Yoongi, left him trembling in his orgasm. Watched as he came between them, and fucked him through that until Yoongi was hiccuping, and crying for him to stop.


His hips stopped, and fell on the bed, watching Yoongi slump over atop him. He could feel his breath on his chest, tried to wait patiently as Yoongi collected himself, and yet he betrayed himself, “Hyungie… please.”


“I know, baby.” Yoongi sighed, before he pushed himself up. They both groaned as Jeongguk slipped out of him. Yoongi pulled the condom off, and wrapped his fist around him, “I’ll take care of you. You did so good.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss the reddened tip of his cock. Ye reached for the ring, and pulled it off him, Jeongguk shivered, whining loudly as Yoongi stroked him, shushing him softly as he cried. There were actual tears in his eyes, threatening to fall as Yoongi finally took care of him. He didn’t like long, came with a grunt, his muscles tensing, his body arching off the bed. Nothing ever felt so sweet as this orgasm did now. Everything felt like it was falling into place, he felt himself relax, felt each breath leaving his lips.


Yoongi was peppering him with kisses, easing him through the cloud of his orgasm. It was everything he needed. He felt something warm, maybe satisfaction, settling in his chest. He felt good, he finally felt good. “My baby.” Yoongi whispered, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, “I’m so proud of you, Gguk. Good job.”


That felt even better. It didn’t need to be said, Jeongguk knew he did good, he knew he made Yoongi proud. But hearing it was satisfying. Hearing it was otherworldly. Jeongguk was good, he did good, he made Yoongi proud. What could be better than that?

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


It was an opportunity Sukuna couldn’t pass up. A sweet, forbidden fruit served to him on a platter, right here, right now. He had always wanted Yuuji’s boyfriend, ever since he met him. Megumi was… indescribable. It was unfair, having such a beautiful boy dangled tight in front of him, right out of his grasp. Sukuna couldn’t touch him because he was Yuuji’s. He’d done enough to his brother in life to at least try and let him have Megumi, even though that felt impossible. Megumi wasn’t only handsome, but he was witty. He had a dry humor, and was quick with comebacks. He matched Sukuna, the only one who ever could. When they were all out drinking, for the first time in his life, someone kept up with him, someone matched his attitude. He didn’t get it… why Megumi was with someone like Yuuji, when he and Sukuna were so alike.


They both hung out in the back of the room while Yuuji danced in the crowd. He was happy in the spotlight, loud and proud, while Megumi watched, he stayed in his own lane. He was unwavering in his confidence, he was strong, cocky and he was… always looking at Yuuji. Groaning when he tried to urge him forward, make him come out of that comfort, just so the two of them could dance together, even if Megumi hated it. Yuuji didn’t realize just how lucky he was, and it pissed him off. It got harder and harder to keep that quiet promise he made, especially as he got to know Megumi more and more. As his claws dug deeper into his skin, and his need was out weighing the logic, the sympathetic part of him.


Sukuna couldn’t help but think it was all building until right now.


He had stopped by to stop off the charger he borrowed from Yuuji, a few articles of clothing he’d left at Sukuna’s as well, but his apartment was quiet and empty. He had a key, so it wasn’t any issue, but it was weird he wasn’t home at this time. He walked back into his bedroom to drop his crap off, pausing  at the doorway.


Megumi was here, laying in Yuuji’s bed. His face squished against his pillow, knee hiked up, baggy shirt relaxed against his frame. But he was bare below the waist. He was… He was… Sukuna’s breath was shaky as he stepped against his better judgement, leaving the items on Yuuji’s night stand where he noticed the abandoned bottle of oil, and used a condom. He could smell it, sweet almond and it was coming from Megumi. A night of spoiling perhaps? And then Yuuji left his lover here all alone… no one to hold him, or care for him in the night? That was shameful, and disappointing. Something else stuck out to him. He reached out for the bottle of sleeping pills, giving them a hard shake before his gaze wandered back to Megumi.


It was too good to be true, wasn’t it? Like cheese left out for the mouse. He was being tested to some degree no doubt, right and wrong. He knew turning around and leaving Megumi to rest was his only real choice, but Sukuna’s feet were glued to the floor, and his eyes raked over smooth, pale thighs. Over tiny hips that already had been claimed in light bruises, no doubt left by Yuuji. Who could come home any minute, and catch Sukuna drinking in the sight of his boyfriend.


But Megumi was so vulnerable like this… could he really be blamed? After all the wanting he did, all the times he caught Megumi’s gaze and their eyes lingered? Could that really be in his head? His imagination?


Of course it was, but the fact of the matter was that Sukuna didn’t care about that. He wasn’t concerned with good and bad, and held off for as long as he wanted. Best scenario was that Megumi stayed asleep, and Sukuna got to get all his needs out without a problem. He wouldn’t do anything crazy he told himself as he kneeled on the bed. He reached for his button, and his zipper, tugging them down, removing his cock. He stared at Megumi’s face as he palmed at his shaft, worked himself up with a sigh, scanning down eyes over him. He still thought it was unfair. Sukuna wanted to fuck Megumi into a blissful sleep, thought that it was only fair to share someone so beautiful.


Sukuna stroked himself until he was hard and heavy in his hand, biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes trained on the bare curve of Megumi’s ass. He couldn’t help himself as he reached out, smoothing his hand over the soft skin. He shivered, moaning hotly as he squeezed the meat, appreciating the firmness, drooling at the idea of fucking Megumi there, wanting to feel his ass cushioning every thrust. He looked back up to Megumi’s fast, where he was still peaceful, undisturbed. Sukuna felt brave, pushing gently on his hips until Megumi was shifting onto his back, lips parting and his arms resting over his middle. But he was bare, and exposed. Soft curls of hair near his groin, his legs parted an inviting Sukuna in to touch the warmth that was nestled between his legs.


He welcomed himself to the offer, groaning as he palmed at the head of his cock, reaching out to smooth his hand over Megumi’s mound, his face twisting when he felt how warm he was. Megumi was already wet, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Well, then… that changed things, didn’t it? He looked back to Megumi’s sweet face, grinning down at him. Peaceful as ever, or just a good pretender. One or the other, Sukuna couldn’t find himself caring as he sunk a finger into his heat, sighing as the way Megumi sucked in his digit. He pulled faster at his cock, his eyes watching as he fucked into Megumi, as he worked him up. He could see his thighs twitching, and as he pushed a second finger in Megumi let out a sigh. Soft, and sweet, his lips smacking together. He was starting to get a cute little furrow in his brow and Sukuna felt crazy with lust.


He shifted, moving between his legs, glancing at the door to Yuuji’s bedroom before he glanced back down to Megumi’s body, bringing his cock to rut against his wet mound. Just this. Just grinding. He could do this. Sukuna shivered, groaning hotly as he felt Megumi so close to him, radiating heat, begging to be stretched and fucked again. Sukuna knew he could fuck Megumi like he needed, could take even better care of him than Yuuji ever could. He licked his lips, feeling the head of his dick catch on Megumi’s hole a few times, trying his hardest to ignore his desires. Trying to avoid his carnal need.


It didn’t matter though, every ounce of power he had was being thrown to the wind. Megumi was just that powerful, that beautiful. Sukuna’s one weakness. He licked his lips, grinning as he purposefully pressed his cock against his heat, letting himself be enveloped by his heat. “Oops.” He whispered, his hand smoothing over Megumi’s body, watching his face twitch, “That was an accident, beautiful. So sorry.” He leaned down, pressing his face into Megumi’s neck, taking a deep inhale of his scent; of the way the sweet almond of the massage oil Yuuji must have used complimented him.


He thrusted shallowly, slowly, savoring him. His hands smoothing up Megumi’s body. He was so good, so delicious. Sukuna wanted to spend an eternity buried inside him like this, accept the consequences, and live his dream. He couldn’t help himself as he licked a stripe up the length of his throat, started to fuck faster into him, sighing into his neck. Fuck, fuck, fuck . God, Megumi was swallowing him, he was soaking wet, he was… shit.


But all of a sudden two hands gripped him, and Megumi arched with a moan,  legs wrapping around his hips. “Oh fuck.” He gasped, Sukuna freezing, his grip on Megumi tightening. “Don’t… don’t do that.” Megumi whispered hotly, voice deep and rumbling and Sukuna’s hips snapped on command, “Yes. Yes . Keep going.”


Sukuna pressed his lips together, but pistoned his hips harder. He should be backing off, shouldn’t be humoring all this. Not when Megumi was likely confusing him for Yuuji. But shit, when Megumi was speaking like that? When was this how he sounded and Yuuji was keeping him all to himself? It was even worse than what Sukuna was doing now? It was disgusting. He deserved his fill, he deserved to have him. He wrapped his arms around Megumi, forcing them flush as he fucked harder into his body. He growled hotly when he felt the heels of Megumi’s feet digging into his back, felt the way Megumi tensed, before he seemed to give in. Sukuna wondered if he knew, if he knew and he ignored it. It only made him feel hotter, his cock twitching at the idea of Megumi wanting Sukuna to fuck him. 


He couldn’t have been crazy enough to make this all up himself? Could he? He licked his lips, and grinned into Megumi neck, fucking him faster, biting down into his neck. Oh, he hoped that was the case. He really did. He wanted Megumi to keep playing stupid, to let himself be fucked and taken by Sukuna, Yuuji none the wiser. That sweet, stupid man. Megumi clenched around him, pulling a groan from his lips, and he felt Megumi’s fingers hesitating as they smoothed up his chest, to his shoulders. He pushed back lightly, wanting to see, wanting to know for sure and Sukuna grinned into his neck. “It’s better to pretend, love.” He whispered against his ear, felt Megumi shiver and gasp, his fingers tightening.


Megumi relaxed slowly, moaning again as Sukuna picked up his pace, started it fuck back into Megumi, humming happily. It wasn’t the right permission, but it was good enough for Sukuna. It was all good enough for him. Hopefully, Yuuji took his sweet ass time coming home so Sukuna could worship up and down Megumi's pretty body, leave his own claim against Yuuji’s marks and know that at least once, at least right now, Megumi was his

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


It doesn’t happen often. In fact, Satori is sure he might just be able to count the times on one hand, maybe two if he’s reading too far into his and Wakatoshi’s relationship.  But even with how little this happens, he still knows the telltale signs, he knows the moment Wakatoshi comes home.


Satori has been home for some time, he’s always done with work hours before Wakatoshi gets home. They don’t chat too much throughout the day, but they were both on a pretty consistent schedule. Wakatoshi doesn’t come home late, or even early. Satori can tell something is wrong not by the time he comes home, but by his mannerisms as he arrives home. The little furrow in his brow as he enters the living room, the way he lingers but doesn’t say much. Satori purses his lips for a moment, before he raises a brow at him, “Oh? What’s my Wakatoshi so pouty over?” He asks, extending his arms in an offer for Wakatoshi.


His boyfriend hovers for a moment before he takes it, stepping forward through the living room, abandoning his bag on the floor and then he’s sitting himself on Satori’s lap. The weight atop him makes him huff a little, but Satori wraps his arms around Wakatoshi regardless, happy to be squashed by his big baby. Satori guides Wakatoshi’s head to his shoulder, peppering sweet kisses over his face, smiling down at him as Wakatoshi seems to stare more so through him, than at him.


“What’s wrong, angel?” Satori asks, his words are cooed out, and his smile is playful. He gently rubs up and down his broad back, his eyelids lowered lazily as the corners of Wakatoshi's mouth twitch with hesitation. “None of that, tell good ol’ Satori what’s going on so he can take care of you. Don’t you want to be taken care of?” He already knows the answer to the question, but he smiles when Wakatoshi tilts his head up to finally look at him.


“Yes.” He murmurs in that thick, deep voice of his. Satori smiles wider and nods his head in encouragement, “Just… a long day. I’m tired. There were some…” He gets quiet, but Satori has known him long enough that he can read between the lines.


He lifts a hand, gently massaging his fingers in the nape of his neck, “Rough night at work, hmm?” Wakatoshi nods his head, before he presses his face closer into Satori’s neck, his soft breaths fanning out over his skin. Wakatoshi is too cute, it makes Satori’s toes curl in excitement as he leans down to press another soft kiss to his cheek. “I know how hard that is; but you’re home now, no one’s bothering you here… except for me, that is.” Satori teases him softly, smiling as he nudges his cheek against Wakatoshi’s, nuzzling in close as he spoils his big baby in affection.


Wakatoshi’s hands fist in Satori’s baggy shirt, a shirt that’s technically Wakatoshi’s, “You’re not a bother. I like being around you.” He says the words softly, and honestly, and it’s one of Satori’s favorite things about Wakatoshi. How sweet he is, how comforting he is. He’s blunt and it’s adorable.


“Oh, my baby.” Satori sighs dramatically as he wraps Wakatoshi up tighter in his arms, peppering for kisses against his sun kissed skin, his hand smoothing down to squeeze his waist, subtly feeling over the muscles that’s hidden beneath his hoodie. “Precious, precious baby. Ah, I love you so much. You’re so right.” He smiles against his cheek, pressing a few more kisses there, knowing Wakatoshi would never stop the affection he was showering him in. Wakatoshi might be reserved, and shy, but he adored this and it’s absolutely adorable.


He feels Wakatoshi sigh, and tilt his head up. Satori smiles down at him, leaning into Wakatoshi’s hand as he lifts it to his cheek. They come together with a practiced, perfect ease. Wakatoshi’s lips parting for Satori’s. He licks into his mouth immediately, tracing the seam with his touch, and relishing in the way Wakatoshi shivers in his arms. So cute . He smiles as he kisses him deeper, licking at his mouth and sucking on his tongue. It’s slow, but passionate and heated. Every kiss of theirs is because Satori loves savoring every bit of Wakatoshi as he can.


“Cold.” Wakatoshi whispers against him, drooling at the corners of his mouth as he licks at Satori’s tongue, moaning softly. “Satori.” He sighs, and he knows exactly what he means. Wakatoshi doesn’t wanna fuck right now, no, he wants comfort and affection. Satori knows how to handle it.


He shifts, Wakatoshi following the guidance of his hips, straddling Satori’s lap instead. From there, he guides Wakatoshi’s hand to his half-mast cock, “You know what to do.” He says happily, his arms wrapping around his neck, lazily lapping at Wakatoshi’s tongue, biting down on his bottom lip. Wakatoshi squeezes him, eliciting a groan from Satori, and then he pulls down his shorts so his cock is exposed. Wakatoshi leans back so he can  lick the palm of his hand, and Satori preens as he watches him, humming as he puts that hand on his dick. “So filthy, Wakatoshi.” Satori teases, pulling him back in, licking the drool from the corner of his mouth, before he plasters his mouth back over Wakatoshi’s.


He’s stroking him steadily, squeezing and flicking his wrist, making Satori moan into his mouth. His hips urging him to fuck up into Wakatoshi’s fist but this isn’t about him, this is about Wakatoshi. He sighs as he pulls back, watching as Wakatoshi chases his lips, his tongue hanging obscenely out of his mouth while his cheeks are flushed. If Satori’s not too careful, Wakatoshi might just ruin him. He grins, and brings his fingers up to his lover’s lips, Wakatoshi immediately responds by sucking them into his mouth, bobbing his head and slicking them up. “Good boy.” Satori moans, leaning back comfortably to watch him suck him off, and jerk his dick. He’s hard now, but that’s only part one, Wakatoshi still needs to be opened up.


Once his fingers are coated, he moves his hand behind Wakatoshi. His other squeezes the meat of his ass, before his fingers slide against his tight ring of muscle, massaging the tips of his fingers against his rim, appreciating the wavering expression. Wakatoshi’s eyes squeezed shut as he waits for Satori to caress his insides. He almost just wants to watch Wakatoshi, leaving him trembling with need. But he can’t do that to his angel, Wakatoshi is too much of a good boy. So he gives him his fingers, pushing them inside him, watching Wakatoshi’s hips buck, his cock tented in his sweats. He’ll need to get all these clothes off of Wakatoshi, but for now he’s just going to work with what he’s got. And that’s the beautiful site of Wakatoshi getting his ass opened on his fingers.


Wakatoshi has stopped pumping his cock, but Satori doesn’t care, not when he loses himself in the shallow thrusts, and spreads his fingers. Wakatoshi’s head is leaned back, and he’s moaning, chest rising and falling. It’s not because Satori’s fingers are magic, it’s because when Wakatoshi is so worked up like this, he just wants to be filled. To “ stop being cold .” All his big baby wants is to be warmed on his cock, sated and happy as Satori spoils him, connected at their hips.


He pulls his fingers out of Wakatoshi when he’s happy, and kisses his baby’s temple. “Take your pants off.” He whispers, watching Wakatoshi shift back, so he can stand and shove the offensive piece of clothing down his legs. Satori spits into his hand, and slumps on the couch, smiling lazily at his boyfriend. His cock is nice and slick as Wakatoshi crawls back into his lap, pulling his hoodie up past his tits so they can see what they’re doing. Wakatoshi’s cock is half hard, and stunning as always. But Satori ignores it as he places one hand on Wakatoshi’s hip, the other on his cock, guiding himself to Wakatoshi’s heat.


He sighs when the head of his dick presses against Wakatoshi’s rim. He brings Wakatoshi’s hips down as he pushes up and into his body. They both exhale hotly as Satori’s length is nestled into his ass. Wakatoshi swallows around him, sucking him deeper and deeper. He’s nice and warm on the inside, but Wakatoshi is moaning and trembling as if this is the best thing that has ever happened to him. Once Wakatoshi’s hips are flush with him, and his plush ass is seated entirely on his cock, Wakatoshi leans down, pressing his head against Satori’s shoulder.


Satori wraps his arms around him, hugging him closer, and kissing the side of his head, “Nice and warm?” He asks Wakatoshi, smiling at Wakatoshi’s nod, “Good. Don’t even think about moving, baby. Not for a long, long time, mm? You’re mine to take care of.”


“Satori.” Wakatoshi pants softly, and Satori gives him another kiss. “I love you.” He whispers into his neck, his lips brushing over his pulse as his arms wrap around Satori.


His insides feel warm, like they’re melting over a hot fire. From his head, to his toes, dopamine is pumping fast through his veins. Satori grins stupidly, giving Wakatoshi as few more kisses, squeezing his ass again as he smiles, “I love you too. My big baby.”

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“No, No no no no. Jimin, no .” Taehyung’s voice is soft. His whispers are whiney, and tears are already brimming his beautiful fucking eyes. And although he denies Jimin permission, he doesn’t actually stop him, it’s all theatrics for Taehyung. He likes the build up, Jimin knows that well by now.


Jimine carries on regardless, sealing the cuffs, and leaning back to look at his work. Taehyung’s hand cuffs are connected to his collar, one Jimin makes home wear as punishment. And tonight, he’s in big trouble. Jimin is unwavering as he looks down at Taehyung who is already hiccuping, his face twisted in anguish as he looks up helplessly at Jimin. His cock twitches, because having such a big man like Taehyung at his mercy is… thrilling. Jimin licks his lips, and smooths his hand down Taehyung’s chest, groping his abs before he smiles. “Such a beauty, Taehyung. I love having you tied up like this.”


“Baby.” Taehyung begs, and Jimin’s eyes flicker up to meet his. “Baby, I promise you it was nothing. I promise you I didn’t do anything, I-I wasn’t thinking about it. I was just talking.” He’s desperate, stumbling over his words, and stuttering between his tears, which are now starting to fall. He’s already worked up because he knows what punishments are like, and as wonderful as they are for Jimin, Taehyung loves praise. He loves affection, and soft kisses. Jimin loves all that too, but he has an inherent roughness in nature, so nights like tonight are primal for him. He knows Taehyung’s okay with this all. The tears are real, but they’ve had long talks about dos and don'ts in these situations, and Jimin is confident enough with Taehyung’s body that he won’t cause him any real harm.


Jimin tilts his head, his fingers dancing down to trace the indent of his navel, his touch light like a feather making Taehyung shiver beneath him. “Nothing?” He scoffs softly, his fingers moving lower, tracing the soft v-shape of his pelvis. “So, the big, broad, tattoo wearing cutie who bought you a drink, and chatted you up for ten minutes was… what? An old buddy from high school?”


No .” Taehyung’s desperate again, his bottom lip trembling, “No, he was just.. friendly. We were just friendly. It was a free drink, that’s all. I came back to you didn’t I? I always come back to you?” 


He did. Taehyung, as loyal as ever, joined Jimin at the booth. But he wore a flush, and an excited, electrifying smile that Jimin narrowed his eyes at. The thing is, Jimin doesn’t mind thirds. Plenty of people have shared a bed with them, and he loves it. Loves getting to mix up their sex life, and extend their love and affection onto another party, or couple. But they picked them out together . They talked first. Taehyung flirted before Jimin got to meet that guy, he bated his long lashes, and let his eyes shine with interest and all Jimin could do was sit back and watch. Taehyung was a bad boy tonight, and so, a punishment was required.


“You came back to me after you had your fill of a stranger.” Jimin points out, and finally wraps his hand around Taehyung’s half hard dick. Taehyung’s hips twitch, and he pulls on his cuffs which are locked to his neck so it does nothing. “If you confess you thought about fucking him, I’ll limit it to two.” It’s an offer he’s never given before, but considering how much of a mess Taehyung is right now, it’s kind of him.


Taehyung’s eyes even shine at the kindness his boyfriend is showing him. But… his face falls with realization. He would have to admit defeat, would have to admit that he wanted to fuck that man at the bar. That Jimin’s right, that he deserves this punishment. And so, he hesitates and Jimin feels hunger like never before as he smirks. Oh, the dilemma that must be going on in his sweet angel’s head, Jimin wishes he could hear every word. 


“Three times.” Jimin corrects as Taehyung lingers in silence. The longer it takes him, the longer Taehyung will have to go. He strokes his dick, long and torturously, appreciating how hot hot Taehyung is, and how easily he hardens to completion in his hand. He loves this so much, even if he fights it and that’s just part of Jimin’s pleasure. 


“No, no.. wait.” Taehyung backpedals, “You said two—”


“Two if you confess your infidelity.” Jimine corrects wickedly, grinning like a lion hunting his prey.


Calling it infidelity is mean, and he can see the guilt and anguish twist on Taehyung’s expression. A sob escapes his lips, and Jimin decides to pick up the pace, pumping his cock faster so he can fill his chest with pleasure instead. Jimin would love to see that man fuck the living shit out of his boyfriend, he’s not mad in the slightest, but he gets off on Taehyung’s pain. In fact he’s left with nothing but to think about his actions, to admit guilt or suffer more pain.


He shuts his eyes, his bottom lip still trembling before he bites down on it, “Okay. Okay.” He breathes out, trying to compose himself but it fails miserably because his next words are sloppy, and slurred, “I wanted… I wanted him, yeah? He was cute.. I thought we could have fun. But it wasn’t a hunting night, it was a date so.. I turned him down. And I came back to the table. I’m sorry, Jimin.”


Oh, his sweet boy. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it, Taehyung?” Jimin purrs, smiling as he flicked his wrist on the next stroke, watching Taehyung tense, his hips kicking to Jimin’s fist. “Doesn’t it feel better to say that? To know how happy it made me, to get out of a full punishment?” Taehyung nods his head, almost deliriously so, and fucks his hips up again. Usually, Jimin would stop the bad behavior, but Taehyung looks so pathetic, he just enjoys the sight.


Taehyung’s hands are curled and dangling on his upper chest. His lips parted, and his hips helpless as they fuck into Jimin’s hand. Moans are slipping out over tears. This isn’t going anywhere, but Jimin lets him have it, lets him fuck into his hand like it’s Jimin, lets him whisper his name between bated breaths, and groan hotly. When Jimin feels the telltale twitch of his cock, and a familiar desperate whine escapes Taehyung’s lips, Jimin removes his hand completely, watching Taehyung fail on the next kick of his hips.


He trembles from head to toe as he’s denied his orgasm. Taehyung chokes on a sob, and he writhes, tears back on his cheeks instantly, his chest rising and falling. “One down, angel. Just one more…” Jimin reassures him, placing his other hand on his thigh, gently rubbing soothing circles into his skin, smiling down at the flush that’s overtaking his body. Oh, what a cutie. Jimin’s cute baby. Taehyung takes a few especially big breaths, before he gives a nod, letting Jimin know he’s safe to touch again. Jimin wraps his hand back around him, slowly pumping his length, watching as another bead of precum drools from the slit of his cock. Oh, this was everything. He could do this for hours.


Taehyung wouldn’t last that long… maybe. But anything to see the flushed, angry head of Taehyung’s cock begging Jimin for more. He places the tip of his finger on the bead, and smiles as he sees it cling to the pad of his finger as he slowly pulls away. “So needy.” He murmurs, looking back up at Taehyung who has his hands curled into fists and is biting down hard on his bottom lip. There’s a furrow in his brows, and harsh breaths leaving his nose. He’s focused, probably on not coming, or trying to keep himself calm so he doesn’t squirm too much and earn himself another punishment. It’s a good attempt, all in all. Jimin understands where he’s coming from. What he’s trying. He looks adorable as he struggles, too.


Jimin fists him hard, squeezing the root of his cock and pulling up in a way that makes Taehyung’s toes curl, his attempts at centering himself crumble and he gasps, arching his back. “Oh, Jimin!” He crieds, and his cock sobs.


“Are you—?”


But he can even finish the question, Taehyung shakes his head almost violently. “No, no… it just feels so good, Jimin, oh my God.” He moans hotly, his brows pinching as pleasure twists into his expression. Jimin picks up his pace, smiling down at Taehyung’s wrecked form. 


He laughs softly, “You love your punishments… huh, baby? Don’t like admitting it, but you do… I can tell.” If Taehyung didn’t enjoy this, he wouldn’t let Jimin do it so freely. He wouldn’t consent to it, and that would be that. Jimin would never touch him like that. But he does it, for all the crying and begging he does… Taehyung wants it.


Taehyung gasps, “Oh God… Oh no…” He kicks his hips up, but this time Jimin places a hand there and slams them down, tutting softly and making Taehyung whimper. “Oh… nnnhhg… hah.. ” He’s noisy, obnoxiously so, but Jimin bathes in his sounds. Memorizes them all, and knows them intimately. This is going to be a tough one to be denied, and that fact makes Jimin’s own cock leak.


“Stop.. stop!” Taehyugn cries suddenly, and Jimin pulls off. He watches Taehyung’s cock bob desperately, and aggressively. Taehyung twists, panting against the pillows, his hands shaking from how tight they’re in fists. “Fuck!” He screams, burrowing his face into the spot, trying to calm himself down. Jimin soothes him by placing a hand on his hip, rubbing up and down as he slowly crawls over him, watching him carefully. He pushes Taehyung so he’s on his back, smiling down at his ruined form.


“That was two, my love.” He congratulates him, leaning down to give him a far too chaste kiss. “You did it. Made me so proud, yes, you did.” He cooes, nuzzling his nose against Taehyung’s, smiling happily. “Now… I’ll give you  a choice, because you did so good…” He grins, maybe a bit too sadistically because he watches Taehyung’s eyes widen. “I take the cuffs off, but.. you don’t get to come until I’m finished, and have had my needs filled. Or, I leave them on, but I’ll take care of you like you need.


“J-Jimin.” Taehyung’s face falls, big, fat tears in his eyes, “Jimin… please.”


“I can always choose for you, my pretty boy.” Jimin laughs, leaning down to kiss away the tears at the corners of his eyes, “You know how much I love doing that.” He’s a bit mean, but if Taehyung had any issues with it, he wouldn’t be nuzzling into Jimin’s cheek like he is, seeking out his affection and love. Jimin knows that even if it is cruel, it’s not out of Taehyung’s range, and it’s something his sweet, sweet boy can handle. And that’s what Jimin loves so much at Taehyung, the trust his lover has put in him. A trust that Jimin would forever and always keep safe. 

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


It was always a sight to savor, and there weren't many times where Kenma went out of his way to treasure something. He had a very specific way he went about things, a low capacity for the people in his life he could care about. The fact of the matter was that Tetsurou took up a lot of that capacity, sat himself down, and made himself a part of Kenma’s life, whether he liked it or not. Kenma couldn’t have guessed just how important Tetsurou was going to be in his life, he couldn’t believe they would be here one day, matching rings on their fingers and flushed cheeks from the dinner they had that night. A dinner which Tetsurou had proposed during. Married. Kenma . Something he never saw for himself, and yet when it came to Tetsurou, he said yes.


Maybe Tetsurou was changing him, or maybe Tetsurou was just his weak point. But either way, it was sufficient to say the moment they got home, they… celebrated . Like any other couple hyped on dopamine, and flushed drunk would do. They plastered their mouths together, stumbling backwards to their bedroom, tugging wildly at each other’s clothes, abandoning them throughout the living room, and the hall. They were pulling at each other by the time they were in bed, moaning into each other’s mouths, hands roaming greedily. Tetsurou squeezed Kenma’s ass, while Kenma kneaded his hands into Tetsurou’s pecs.


They were both worked up, rushing to get each other bare, and to get prepped. It was made a little difficult with how often they found their mouths pasted together. Their hands got distracted, but eventually they got here. To Kenma savoring the sight below him. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Tetsurou like this, but he was so… flawless… it did something to him. Struck a chord, made his chest inflate. He smoothed his hands over Tetsurou’s abs, tracing his fingers against them as he felt Tetsurou’s thighs squeezing his hips. “Kenma.” He hissed as Kenma gave a curious flick of one of his dark buds.


Kenma smiled to himself, rolling his thumb over him again, appreciating the way Tetsurou’s head pressed against his sheets, panting softly. It was rewarding, finally wiping that smug smile from his fiance’s face. His other hand moved back down to his hip, giving a hard squeeze as he started to work his hips into him faster, his eyes shifting down to watch his cock slide in and out of his body. He appreciated the sigh that punctuated every thrust, courtesy of Tetsurou. The corners of his mouth were twitching, his big dick bouncing uselessly against his stomach, and shit… Kenma loved the way he felt when he had such a big guy like Tetsurou at his mercy. Loved breaking him down, piece by piece. He leaned down licking a stripe up his abs, his hand sliding further up his chest. It moved from his breast, past his collarbone, and settled at the base of Tetsurou's neck.


He licked his lips as he looked down at Tetsurou, taking note of the way his eyes were blown out, his mouth hung up. He flexed his fingers, and felt the way Tetsurou swallowed. “You want it?” Kenma asked, tilting his head to the side, feeling Tetsurou tremble around his dick.


“Kenma.” He groaned softly, his hands fisting in their sheets, threatening to pull them up from the bed. It was a concession. Kenma squeezed down, biting down on his bottom lip as he angled his hips, trying to fuck down on Tetsurou’s prostate simultaneously. He groaned softly when he felt Tetsurou clench down on him, and he watched his face. Watched the furrow in his brow, the hard, bated breaths that were struggling to escape his lips. Kenma reached down, and wrapped his free hand around his cock. He fumbled to keep his pace and jerk Tetsurou off at the same time, but that didn’t stop him from trying.


He squeezed Tetsurou’s neck harder, getting worked up just watching him, feeling his own arousal bearing down on him. One of Tetsurou’s hands grabbed Kenma’s wrist, and he assumed it meant he wanted him to back off, but instead Tetsurou forced his hand tighter against his throat. Kenma nearly came right then and there, so shocked by Tetsurou’s desperation that he stumbled and lost his rhythm all together. “Tetsurou.. fuck.” He squeezed down harder, completely taken aback by him. But, God, he was so hot. Kenma pumped his cock faster, and tried to manage his pace again, struggling when he was so close himself.


Tetsurou’s face was flushed, turning pink. Kenma licked his lips, groaning with every kick of his hips, his thighs trembling as his balls tightened. He wanted to make Tetsurou come first, he really, really wanted to but this was getting impossible. Tetsurou’s choked gurgling was going right to his balls, and he kept clenching around him, completely ruining any composure that Kenma might have. Kenma choked, letting go of Tetsurou’s cock to grip his hip, trying to use it to ground himself. “Shit, Tetsurou—I’m—” Tetsurou couldn’t actually respond, his face red, drool leaking from his mouth, down his chin. He was positively wrecked and Kenma lost himself. He came with a harsh cry, squeezing down once more on Tetsurou’s neck before he let go, emptying his balls inside his fiance. Kenma panted hotly, the sounds of Tetsurou’s taking in greedy breaths and choking on them was just too much. 


He lazily watched Tetsurou fist his own cock, pulling aggressively at himself, making him groan hotly, and spill onto his own chest in just a few tugs. His voice was raspy as he groaned, and he clenched around Kenma, who whined softly, collapsing atop him, panting against his chest, thoroughly exhausted.


That’s all they did for a moment, breathe hotly against each other, and come down. Kenma shifted, looking up at Tetsurou, staring at his red throat. He reached up, gently tracing the spot while Tetsurou rubbed up and down his back soothingly. “Was it too much?” He asked, because it looked like too much.


“Maybe.” Tetsurou wheezed, his throat fucking destroyed and Kenma winced. ”It’s okay. I just like it a little too hard sometimes, I don’t think about the effect it’s gonna have on me.” He squeezed Kenma’s waist, before he shifted them, Kenma rolling off him, watching him rub his own throat before he glanced back at him, smiling at the pout on his face. “Hey, none of that, beautiful.” He leaned down, tilting Kenma’s head up to brush their lips together. “You fucked me just like I wanted... That was perfect.”


Kenma flushed, feeling his insides turn into liquid at the praise. “I wasn’t that good, if I sucked, tell me I sucked.” 


“You know I would.” Tetsurou pointed out, and… yeah. He was right about that. Kenma let a small smile grace his lips, as he leaned up, and kissed Tetsurou back.


“Well… in that case… maybe we can shower together? Does an apology blowjob sound good enough for destroying your vocal chords?”


Tetsurou laughed, before he nodded, looking down affectionately at Kenma, “An apology blowie sounds heavenly.”

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“It just doesn’t make any sense.” Tobio sighs, his card sliding through the door as it gives a telltale click and opens for the both of them. Shouyou rolls his eyes, but there’s a smug smile on his lips as he follows Tobio into their dorm room, kicking off his shoes beside Tobio’s.


“It makes complete sense. Just admit you’re mad because you lost .” Oh it feels good. When they formed a group for their European history course, Shouyou never expected to be elected its leader. In fact, it was sort of a questionable choice, but he is likable so that probably had a lot to do with it. Tobio’s only mad now because he doesn’t like Shouyou being ahead of him.. in control when he isn’t. It’s hilarious.


Tobio glances back at him as he tosses his bag on his bed. His lips are pursed and his eyes narrowed as Shouyou approaches and leans against the wall beside his bed, smugness apparent on his face, “Of course that pisses me off, idiot. My grade is in your hands.”


Shouyou tries to repress his laughter, but it bubbles out regardless, “Oh, that’s rich… coming from you. Your grades aren’t even safe in your own hands…” Teasing Tobio is one of his favorite past times, he really just made it too easy. Shouyou is already expecting retaliation by the time Tobio bears down on him. He’s gotten used to his timing, his predictability. He skillfully slides to the side when Tobio’s hand knocks into the wall by his head and he glares down at him, “Are you gonna make us late?” They have a study group to head to, and they agreed to get food after stopping by their dorm, but if Tobio wants to stop everything and have some petty little argument Shouyou is happy to just make himself food here.


Tobio gives it up with a huff as he turns back to his bag, roughly ripping it open, and digging into it. “You can barely wake up on time, I don’t see how we’re not going to fail this project.” Tobio has a point there… While his grades are better than his friend’s, Tobio is definitely more organized. Which is almost like a joke. But his side of the room is cleaner, he has a schedule he follows. But he, just like Shouyou, fumbles with his classes. A terribly brilliant idea pops into Shouyou's head, and he can barely contain himself at the prospect.


“You want to be the group leader?” He offers, watching as Tobio pauses and shifts to glare at him, already suspicious. But he sees it, the glint of competitiveness in his eyes. He wants to one up Shouyou more than he cares to trust those suspicions. “I’ll give it up to you. All you have to do is ask .” Shouyou says with a nonchalant shrug, but he smirks a second later, “Or, I guess, beg .”


Tobio scoffs, a smirk of his own spreading over his lips as he faces Shouyou, hand on his hip, “What’re you on about? Do I look like the kind of guy that’s just going to bat my lashes and grovel at your feet?” His brow twitches in annoyance, and Shouyou knows he’s just trying to deter him, throwing off his attempts at winning. 


No, Tobio doesn’t look like that kind of guy at all. That’s what makes this so fun. It’s the fact that Tobio is so defiant, and confident. Shouyou wants to see him on his knees, hell, taking a picture sounds good too, makes his skin tingle and warm in some weird way. “Riiiiiiiight.” Shouyou hums, rocking back and forth on his feet, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets before he leans back against the wall. “Well, in that case, I guess I’m leading the project. But don’t worry, Kageyama. Your grades are very safe with me. I’d never do anything to sabotage them.” It’s a little mean, but Shouyou’s heart swells at the panicked expression that betrays Tobio’s act. He would never actually do anything, but Tobio is too fun to tease.


“You’re an asshole.” He hisses, insulting him instead of acknowledging his words. It’s a step toward victory, and they both know it. Tobio turns his eyes down, his cheeks slightly flushed as his hand fists in his sheets. He looks broken up about it, and Shouyou feels a little bad. He’s only teasing. Tobio’s grade is safe, and the leader position doesn’t actually mean anything in the long run. Shouyou parts his lips to tell Tobio that he’s just joking, that leading the group doesn’t actually mean anything to him. He only made a big deal out of it because Tobio did. Before he can speak, Tobio sighs and beats him to the punch. “F-Fine. You want me to beg, then I will!” 


Uhhhh.. what? Shouyou blinks once, then twice. His cheeks feel warm for some unknown reason. Probably because Tobio’s are. The air feels thicker, and Shouyou’s words die in his throat. Tobio’s hand grips his comforter tighter before he shuts his eyes and hisses like it physically pains him. “Please.” He grits. He can tell it was a struggle to get out, and Shouyou wonders if this is real life.


He also wonders if he’s the devil because on reflex he says, “Please, what?” It’s mean, it’s so mean and Tobio flinches .


“P-Please let me… lead our group.” Shouyou exhales hotly when Tobio finishes. Why does this feel so… hot? It shouldn’t. He shouldn’t feel this pleasant warm buzzing under his skin, and his dick shouldn’t be twitching… There's something terribly wrong with him.


Tobio did it. He begged. Shouyou should let things go, but he has the desire to push Tobio further, he really wants to know how far they can go here. But he knows it’s wrong. Yet, his morals are shelved, he’s not thinking straight. “It’s a bit lazy don’t you think?” Tobio blinks and looks at him, scoffing angry, already beginning to curse him out but Shouyou continues, “You have to put more into it, it has to mean something, c’mon, Kageyama there’s just…. no passion.” He doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s taking about. Tobio’s cheeks deepen their flush, and he worries his bottom lip for a moment. 


Shouyou expects him to grab the collar of his shirt, maybe throw him around a little and bully the leadership position out of him. He’s earned it, honestly. But to his surprise, Tobio lets go of his bed, and falls to his knees. The thump is loud, and Shouyou can’t imagine it felt good. But all those worries leave his head at the sight of Kageyama Tobio on his knees in front of him. The angry blush on his cheeks as he shyly tilted his head up to look at him. Shit… he looked… sort of pretty?


“Hinata..” Tobio sighs his name, his chest rising and falling, his shoulders relaxing. “Please… let me lead the study group.” His hands rest on his thighs, carefully gripping the fabric of his sweats. He looks up, struggling for a moment before he meets Shouyou’s gaze. He short circuits. “ Please .”


Shouyou’s gone. Brain turned to mush. Tobio is on his knees, hands preciously placed atop his thighs, his face red and his eyes shining. He looks too good and too many scenarios from cheesy pornos he’s watched play through his mind. He’s never denied that Tobio is attractive. He’s always thought that way about him. He was driven, and passionate. Shared his interests, and acted so adorable (and sometimes dangerous) when he was flustered. But this… he never in a million years thought he could have this.


The worst thing imaginable happens. Shouyou can’t be blamed for it, but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. Tobio notices he’s hard. The sweatpants he has on hides nothing, they weren’t going to cover it up, especially at Tobio’s level. So, of course, Tobio notices, and Shouyou sweats, trembling as they both sit there in an awkward silence. 


“You’re—” Tobio blinks, once, then twice. Whatever he wants to say dies on his lips, and he sits there staring at his dick and it’s probably the worst thing he can do. Shouyou wants to cry. 


He covers his eyes, unable to look at his friend. “I-It’s not my fault! You’re the one that begged like that! Anyone would react this way, okay?!”


“Anyone?” Tobio asks, sounding a bit confused and Shouyou groans into his hands, willing himself to disappear.


“Is that so weird?” He cries down at Tobio, making the mistake of looking at him again so he hides back in his hands. “You’re on your knees, saying please… like… it’s…” He’s at a loss. He has no excuse. He’s a disgusting asshole, he really is. He knows he should have stopped him, but he let it get this far and now these are his consequences.


All of a sudden, something firm presses to his erection, and Shouyou shivers, groaning hotly as he presses into it. He looks and it’s Tobio’s hand. His brows are furrowed, his lips pulled into a pout, and his hand massaging Shouyou in his palm. “If you speak , I stop.” Tobio all but growls at him. Shouyou’s mouth snaps shut, and he swallows hard as he presses himself against the walls, his arms falling awkwardly at his sides. Tobio seems happy with that, and brings his attention back to the tent in Shouyou’s sweats. He’s sure this is a dream now, especially when Tobio grabs the waistband of his sweats, and unceremoniously pulls them down. Shouyou’s dick bobs once it’s free, and Tobio is quick to wrap a hand around his girthy shaft, sighing as he strokes his length.


It feels so good . Shouyou’s only used to his own hand, so he practically melts in Tobio’s grip. Shouyou wouldn’t have guessed it would come to this, but he’s not complaining. He’s not thinking about anything but this moment. Tobio’s hand is dry, but it’s warm, and big, and engulfs him. Shouyou watches lazily, Tobio’s focus is on his cock, his lips slightly parted, and Shouyou desperately wants to know what he’s thinking about right now. He doesn’t expect Tobio to lean forward, for him to peek his tongue out to lap at the head of his dick. But he does, and Shouyou whines quietly, fingers twitching. Tobio wraps his mouth around Shouyou’s tip, and his hands reflexively thread into his hair, groaning softly.


Tobio pauses the moment Shouyou touches his hair, but Shouyou urges him forward. He tugs lightly, and brings Tobio further down his shaft. He feels some resistance, which just turns him on further and he kicks his hips instead. Tobio goes slack then, moaning around him, and all but giving Shouyou permission. If Shouyou didn’t feel like he was already losing himself, and going completely crazy with his arousal, then that would have been the moment he snapped. He sighs, and slowly thrusts into Tobio’s mouth, trembling at how warm and wet his mouth is. The sensation is unbelievable, and Shouyou feels like he’s going positively mad. He groans hotly, kicking his lips a little hard, feeling Tobio sputter for a moment before he groans. God, he was good. Shouyou would have never thought he would see Tobio like this for him.


But he plans on savoring it. Shouyou picks up his pace, his balls already tight from the sensation. He slides into Tobio’s throat without even recognizing he’s doing it, and when he feels the tightness, the way Tobio convulses around him, he cries out, nearly curling in on himself when he comes suddenly and without warning. Tobio sputters and shoves at his hips, forcing Shouyou’s cock from his mouth, but all it really does is get Tobio’s face covered in his spunk, as well as him swallowing what had spilled in his mouth. “What the fuck?” He hisses softly, glancing up at Shouyou who tries to keep himself together as he notices the come over his cheek and his brow. “You couldn’t even warn me?”


Shouyou murmurs an apology as Tobio stands up, and grumbles to himself as he moves into their kitchen, scrubbing his face in the sink. He watches as Tobio takes a minute and sighs, as if he was composing himself before he turns back to Shouyou, catching him looking. “What now?”


Shouyou's eyes are drawn lower, between Tobio’s legs where it appears he’s hard too. Hard from blowing Shouyou off which is a… delicious thought all on its own. Shouyou points, and Tobio doesn’t even look down to know what he’s talking about, he just blushes and grits his teeth. But Shouyou licks his lips, “Want me to return the favor?” He asks, his voice low, his eyes fierce. 


Tobio blinks at him, before he seems to give in, hesitantly stepping back into their shared room, standing close enough to Shouyou where he can feel the heat from his body. “Do you think we can make it to the study group in time?”


“Yeah, definitely.” Shouyou nods his head, looking between Tobio’s eyes, “I’ll make sure you’re quick.”


Tobio’s face darkens, “What’s that even supposed to imply? That I’m easy?”


“I guess we’ll find out?” Shouyou smirks, pushing Tobio back against the wall as he falls to his knees this time. He watches as Tobio blushes and covers his face with the back of his hand, watching him as he pulls at his pants.


He wants to make Tobio come faster than he had, because everything between him and Tobio led to competition.

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


He knows he wasn’t supposed to see it. Kiyoomi had just glanced over at him, because it was typical for Atsumu to make little comments and jokes at the end of practice, but today he was silent. They were going over some videos, and games they were supposed to watch for next practice. It was an accident, Kiyoomi was expecting to see the familiar shit-eating grin on his teammates face. But instead Atsumu’s face was flushed, his eyes downcast, his grip on his jacket tight as he held it in front of himself. It was strange, to say the least, but Kiyoomi tried not to think too much about it.


He turned his attention back to their captain, and listened thoroughly. They were dismissed for the day, and per usual, the majority of them went back to the court to squeeze in extra practice. Atsumu, on the other hand, made a quick cut to the locker room. Something was definitely  wrong if Atsumu wasn’t staying behind, especially when he waved off Shouyou's call to set for him and Koutarou.


Kiyoomi didn’t care. He really didn’t care and yet his feet brought him to the locker room after Atsumu. Maybe he felt responsible. They were teammates after all, they needed to depend on each other. No one else seemed to notice Atsumu’s silence as strange, so, Kiyoomi should check on him. For the team.


He quietly entered the locker room after Atsumu, and heard him swear softly. He debated just turning back around. Atsumu was a grown man, he could handle whatever it was on his own surely. Ask someone closer to him for help if it was a serious problem. But Kiyoomi was already here, and with a sigh he took a few steps forward, until he was standing at the end of the lockers where Atsumu was at his, glaring at the floor. “It’s weird for you to turn down Hinata. Are you sick or something?” 


Atsumu flinched, obviously alarmed by Kiyoomi’s presence. “What the…” He swore, placing a hand on his chest before he exhaled, shutting his eyes as he managed his heart rate. “Omi… can ya be any less creepy?” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, looking back at Atsumu. At the scare, he had jumped back from his locker, and was now facing him. It only took a few seconds to notice it, the bulge in his shorts. Kiyoomi’s eyes widened, his brow lifting as he stared at Atsumu, at his groin, taken by surprise.


Was that it? The reason Atsumu looked distracted? Had his jacket in front of him? 


Atsumu noticed as well, and immediately pressed himself back into his locker, facing away from him and glancing over his shoulder, “Ay! Don’t be a creep, Omi. Stop lookin’ at my junk.”


Kiyoomi frowned, lifting his gaze back to Atsumu’s, “Or you could try controlling yourself at practice. Honestly, Miya, that’s disgusting.”


“Wha?!” Atsumu all but growled, his eyes narrowed as he parted his lips before he seemed to deflate, groaning softly as he whacked his head against the locker door. “It’s not like I want this.” Kiyoomi tilted his head, but he didn’t ask. He honestly didn’t want to know. Heading back into the gym was his best bet here before Atsumu started to pour his exposition onto him, and the last thing Kiyoomi wanted to talk about was Atsumu’s cock. But he was too slow, Atsumu started too fast, “My dick’s been crazy, okay? I don’t know what’s going on… but ever since Saturday it’s been… like this. Not all the time, but like, I get worked up real fast ‘n shit. Don’t know what to do.”


“Visit your doctor?” Kiyoomi unhelpfully supplied, glaring at him.


Atsumu turned back toward him, his face flushed pink as he shook his fist. “No shit ! But do ya even know how embarrasin’ that’d be? ‘Help my dick won’t shut up, doc, what do I do?’”


Kiyoomi thought that might actually be hilarious. Atsumu uncomfortable and shuffling in front of his doctor, face flushed like it was now, his hands pressed to his groin as he tried to explain himself. At the idea, there was a familiar warm twinge in his abdomen, but Kiyoomi pointedly ignored it, trying to stop himself from looking at the tent in Atsumu’s shorts. Kiyoomi cleared his throat, “I didn’t say it would be comfortable. Why, uh, do you think it’s happening?” Fuck, why did he ask that? He definitely shouldn’t have.


Atsumu at least looked both hesitant and suspicious for a moment, before he sighed, and straddled the bench to his side, sitting down and getting comfortable while his cock was hard between his legs. Kiyoomi was starting to feel uncomfortably warm. “I dunno…” He pouted, frowning at the floor, “Well.. maybe I do, but it’s embarrassin’.. ahhh, it’s so dumb, I can’t.” He seemed to be fighting with himself, and Kiyoomi stood there, and waited. He fucking waited to hear about Atsumu’s dick problems and it made hi want to die a little bit. “So, like, do ya know what, uh…” He lowered his voice, “Prostate milking is?”


Kiyoomi didn’t like the way his heart skipped a beat, or the way more warmth pooled in his abdomen. It wasn’t a good sign. He nodded his head, though. He was familiar with it. He crossed his arms over his chest, and watched Atsumu lower his eyes again. “Well, I wanted to try it. I dunno if that’s why it’s happenin’ but it’s the only weird, or different thing, I did since this started happening.”


“I doubt it’s related.” Kiyoomi told him, not sure if it’d help calm him down, or if it would only make him more anxious. But the fact was that stimulation of his prostate wouldn’t make him more susceptible to arousal. “Did you have a partner?” He asked out of curiosity.


“Nah, nothing like that.” Atsumu shrugged, “I don’t have the time to hook up, it’s been a while so…”


Ah… Kiyoomi couldn’t help but think that was a shame. As infuriating as Atsumu was, he was attractive. Annoyingly so. And Kiyoomi had no doubts that witnessing him drunk on prostate stimulation was a site to be savored. “Maybe you need a partner. Could be something with your sex drive. It’s not persistently hard, you do get soft, right?”


“It’s so weird to hear ya talk like that.” Atsumu huffs out a laugh, but his face is red. Kiyoomi narrows his eyes. Atsumu was fidgeting with the fabric of his shorts, his face just getting more and more flushed, while the corners of his mouth twitched. Oh… Oh. Kiyoomi’s throat felt tight, his skin felt hot. “Yeah, I mean. After I jerk off everything’s fine for a while…”


Oh, this was no good. Kiyoomi had a strong will, he did. He prided himself on it but what kind of test was this? How often did someone else find themselves in a situation like this? Now was the time he wished he could turn away, leaving Atsumu in here to deal with his problem. But instead, his feet stayed firmly planted to the ground. “Well… are you going to jerk off?”


Atsumu looked up in shock, his chestnut eyes blown wide, thick lips parted. Kiyoomi stood his ground, lifted his brow in question, “Wh-What? Right here when anyone could walk in? While yer watching?” 


Kiyoomi tilted his head to the side, “What? Are you trying to tell me you don’t think it’s even a little hot? Getting off while the team is on the other side of the wall? Or while you’re being watched? Come on, Miya, you’re attention seeking. I don't believe for a second you’re not into that.” Kiyoomi noticed the way his fingers twitched, he noticed the shaky breath. Mmm.. so he liked that, didn't he? Kiyoomi continued. “You’ve already embarrassed yourself, I caught you. Might as well show me what you’ve got.” He nudged his head forward, motioning to the erection hiding away between his legs.


Atsumu looked down at himself again, but his thighs spread apart by the tiniest amount. He was considering it. Kiyoomi couldn’t explain why he wanted to watch him so badly, maybe it was like a game to him, a mini competition. Like he won by getting Atsumu to listen, to bend the knee. Kiyoomi licked his lips, “What? Too humiliating for you? I’m surprised you have any shame at all.”


“All right. I get it. Jeez.” Atsumu sighed. He leaned back on one of his hands before he reached into his shorts. He exhaled as he wrapped his hand around himself, eyes falling shut as he worked his shaft. Kiyoomi couldn’t see what was happening, that only annoyed him slightly. He stepped forward, sitting at the opposite end of the bench, glancing back near the door before he turned back to Atsumu. He was surprised when he was already looking at him, lids lowered, lips parted. Shit.. he couldn’t handle that. His own dick was twitching to life.


Atsumu pulled his dick out a moment later, only pushing his shorts down to free it. Kiyoomi tried to keep his expression neutral but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. Atsumu moaned, and Kiyoomi glanced up at him. He sounded like a fucking pornstar what the fuck . “Don’t be shy.” Kiyoomi told him, “I know you probably like it… messier.” Kiyoomi pulled himself down the bench, until his knees hit Atsumu’s. One thing he hated about this overzealous man was the way he made Kiyoomi behave. He made him lose parts of himself and it was infuriating. Kiyoomi tried not to think too much into his next move as he leaned forward and spit into Atsumu’s cock.


He knew that later on he would likely cringe at the idea, but in the moment, he couldn’t control himself. And seeing Atsumu's reaction made it all worth it. “Omi.” He whined, moan hitched along with the desperate cry of his name, as his chest rose and fell. Atsumu bit down on his lip, quick to smooth the spit over his length as he jerked himself off. He picked up the pace, and Kiyoomi watched as he worked himself up.


“Well.” He huffed lightly, surprised by Atsumu’s… acceptance. He just let that happen. He didn’t question it, didn’t argue. “You really do like this… why am I surprised…” Kiyoomi grinned, watching Atsumu hotly, “You probably wanted someone following you in here… or maybe just being caught in general. Embarrassing my ass, you want to feel humiliated.” Atsumu shook his head, but Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes, grabbing his chin in his hand, leaning closer, “No? That’s why your cock started drooling when I spit on you, hmm? Because you hated it so much?” He looked between Atsumu’s eyes, and when he shut them defiantly Kiyoomi felt frustration flaring up. He pulled Atsumu face closer, squeezed his cheeks so his mouth would open wider and then he spit, right into his mouth, right onto his tongue and savored the squeak Atsumu left out. Savored the way his eyes rolled back and his body trembled.


Kiyoomi leaned back, a self satisfied smirk on his lips as he gave Atsumu’s cheek a good few pats. He was shocked, though, when he noticed Atsumu’s arm was still. But as he looked down he saw why. Atsumu came all over himself, and the bench. Wet spots on his shirt, his cock still drooling hot release over his hand and the bench. “Really, Miya?” Kiyoomi scoffed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really came all over yourself like a fucking teenage boy?” 


“Shut up.” Atsumu cried, quickly tucking his still filthy cock back into his shorts. Kiyoomi had no right to cringe the way he did, not with the fact he’d spit on Atsumu, and yet he still did.


“I don’t think I will… I’m not the one who got hard at practice and jerked off in the locker rooms, am I?”


Atsumu scoffed softly, before his eyes lowered, “Well, maybe not… but you’re not entirely innocent are you.”


Kiyoomi glanced down at himself, where he was hard now too. He couldn’t help but smile. He liked when Atsumu bit back, he couldn’t help it. He hummed softly, and reached down for himself, tracing the outline, watching at Atsumu’s eyes following the movement. “Maybe not… but only one of us is a desperate whore here, Miya...”


He looked back up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes shining. He made it a point to frown at him, to scoff softly like he was offended when Kiyoomi knew him better than that. Atsumu could act like as much as a stuck up bitch as he wanted to, but he was still sneaking glances down at Kiyoomi’s hand, anticipating him taking his cock out. And Kiyoomi planned to have fun with him, at least, until they really did get caught. 

Chapter Text



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Her thighs were trembling. Nobara couldn’t even begin to describe the pain she was in, and she was more than positive she had never felt something quite like this before. Her thighs ached, her abs burned, her hips were on fire. She never thought that there would be a moment where she might pass out, during sex none the less. But this was worth it. If there was one thing Nobara was, it was determined. When she wanted something she would go to the edges of the earth to get it.


Zenin Maki was exactly that. Ever since Nobara had laid her eyes on her, she was filled with nothing by want. Her desire was consuming, unmanageable. Nobara wanted nothing more than to become one. To forget where Maki started, and she ended. She wanted to melt into her, to become cosmic dust, and fade into the abyss. An eternity with her wouldn’t be enough, Nobara was starved for her, calling it desperation was insulting because Nobara just felt utterly consumed by her, she wanted to be consumed by her.


Which was why every ache and pain she felt right now was worth it. Because everything she endured just got her closer and closer to being Maki’s. And Nobara could taste it, she was right there.


“Just a little longer.” Maki whispered at the same time as the voice in Nobara’s head said it. She wasn’t the type to give much encouragement so Nobara savored it as she rolled her hips back down, her entire body shivering, thighs crying in protest as she lifted herself up again and fucked down on the strap attached to Maki’s hips. It was big . A thick purple dildo that touched deeper than Nobara ever thought anything could. She was sweating, her hair sticking to her face, her hands on Maki’s waist, tightening their grip as she started to bounce again.


Everything cried in protest, and Nobara wasn’t even sure she could handle another orgasm. They were getting less and less enjoyable. She was wet in ways she never thought she could be, and her stomach was twisting in knots. But a little longer. For all Nobara knew, that could be another twenty minutes. It didn’t matter at the end of the day, because Nobara would go as long as she needed. Anything so she could be Maki’s. So Maki could be hers.


To make her point, Maki lifts her hand, collar dangling on the tips of fingers, swaying slightly from the movement. It was thick, and black. Nobara could smell the leather, she could imagine how cool it would feel on her skin. She wanted it. She wanted Maki collaring her, she wanted to be owned by her.


“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired?” Maki grinned, her eyes fierce, challenging Nobara to say their safe word.


Nobara huffed in response, taking a deep breath before he shifted, placing her hands behind her, on Maki’s thighs. “Not even close.” She grinned wickedly down at Maki, watching as she scoffed in response, but her eyes were shining. Maki bucked her hips up, and Nobara cried out as the thick toy was pressed deeper inside her. She worked up the strength to bounce again. She couldn’t help the noises leaving her lips. She tried earlier to control herself, she really did, but at this point she was done. She didn’t shy away from it, she didn’t fucking care at all. She let herself gasp, and whine.


She felt her grip tighten, her nails cutting into Maki’s toned thighs as she clenched around the cock, biting on her bottom lip as a familiar tension started to build in her abdomen. She could barely believe she was still moving, but she rode it. Fucked down faster, panted hotly as she met Maki’s gaze. She was grinning at her, collar still dangling, It was both wonderful and torturous seeing it. Being so fucking close to being Maki’s. Nobara needed it. She never needed anything so much in her life.


She shut her eyes, her head falling back as she cried out. “Fuck.” She groaned hotly, elbows trembling, feeling too weak to hold herself up.


Maki’s hand smoothed up her thigh, settling on Nobara’s hip, squeezing lightly, “That’s it. Hurts so bad it’s good, hm?” That was part of it. Nobara was so used to the burn it was searing, but also in some twisted way it was comforting. All the work she was putting into this would be worth it when she had that collar. The aches she felt tomorrow would be a reward, a reminder.


Nobara’s brows furrowed as she gasped, her hips twitching as curled forward, pressing her face into Maki’s chest, her hands moving to squeeze Maki’s breasts firmly in her hands. “Oh God. Maki.” She cried, her thumbs swiping over her perked, dark nipples. She heard Maki’s soft exhale, and it made her tremble again.


“Show, don’t tell.” Maki commanded softly, and Nobara felt her hand slide up from her hips, over her waist and then trace along her spine. Nobara searched out her lips, moaning when Maki parted for her immediately. Nobara rocked her hips, the toy rutting against her most sensitive parts as she and Maki shared a lazy, wet kiss. Most of what Nobara was doing was panting, barely able to commit to a closed mouth kiss long enough for it to be considered as such but she couldn’t be blamed.


Nobara knew she was close. She pushed herself back, groaning as she sank down lower on the toy, and started to rut her hips atop of Maki, riding her with fervor so she could reach her climax. She didn’t know if this was going to be it, or if Maki was going to continue being sadistic with her, but she didn’t care. She needed the relief, she needed to keep pushing herself until her reward came.


It didn’t take her long to find it. Her thighs screamed in protest but she pressed forward, rode out the pain as her orgasm swelled and she froze. She shivered as she came, her voice cracking as she cried out, and collapsed onto Maki’s chest, burying her face into her neck, panting hotly as she felt herself throbbing between her legs. Maki hummed softly, petting gently at her hair. Nobara could even begin to fathom how many seconds passed between them, but eventually Maki’s arms came around her, and she shifted, sitting up instead. Nobara hissed as the toy shifted inside her. She sat back, and unsaddled herself from the strap, sitting on Maki’s thighs. 


Her head was throbbing, and her entire body was heavy with exhaustion. If Maki wanted more from her, Nobara was going to fear for her life. But instead, she felt Maki brushing her hair back from her neck, opening her eyes to watch Maki bring the collar up and wrap it around her. Nobara’s eyes widened, her breath getting caught in her throat as Maki carefully fastened the collar. Her fingers were delicate, and made Nobara shiver as they brushed over her sensitive skin. She didn’t dare move, too scared this moment was some fantasy of her, scared she really did pass out. Maki finished with a smile, smoothing her hands over Nobara’s shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There you go. You deserve it after all that hard work.” She lifted her hand, smoothing it over her cheek as her thumb gently swiped at her bottom lip, “Good girl.”


Nobara could have died happy at that moment. Her bottom lip trembled as she collapsed, wrapping her arms around her waist, hiccuping into her neck. Maki cooed softly, petting her hair back and kissing the top of her head.


Nobara was sure she was going to be bed ridden the next day, but it was worth it for this moment. To feel the weight of the collar on her neck, and Maki’s gentle finger in her hair. Her happiness was unmatched, nothing would ever compare to this moment. Ever

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


He’d never been so slick before. He never spent so long fingering himself, never used so much lube, but he had to admit… It felt so good. Denki pressed his head back into the bed, groaning hotly as he spread his fingers inside himself, brushing over his prostate. He gasped as he felt his cock twitch and his balls tighten, he reached down quickly to squeeze them, cutting off his orgasm. He choked, panting heavily as he destroyed his pleasure, his dick bobbing pathetic as it lost it’s chance to come. But he couldn’t, not yet. He needed to hold off for Hitoshi. He had been excited for this ever since Hitoshi agreed to it.


His skin was flushed, and hot to the touch. His thighs were slick, and so was his hole. He was dripping lube and that’s exactly what Denki needed for this. Everything was happening just as he imagined it.


“I’m surprised you haven’t come yet.” Hitoshi said softly, he was standing by the bedroom door, watching quietly, already prepared for this. 


Denki laughed in a breathless sort of way, glancing down at Hitoshi, “You underestimate how excited I am. I’m very committed to the roleplay.”


Hitoshi smiled in that lazily way that made Denki helplessly desperate for him. He stepped closer to the bed, crouching down to reach for the box of fun under their bed. Denki pushed himself up on his elbows, dragging himself further back on the bed as watched Hitoshi with the dildo in hand. It was unreal seeing it in real life. Thick, and long. It was black, and the best part? A bulbous knot at the base. Hitoshi finished getting ready; the last step was getting the strap on into the harness that was on his hips.


“I can’t believe you roped me into this… wolf roleplay.” Hitoshi scoffed lightly, it came out more amused then he might have meant for it to but Denki would have grinned regardless.


“Omegaverse.” He corrected softly, watching Hitoshi roll his eyes at him.


Hitoshi crawled into bed, between his legs, his hands gingerly settling themselves on his knees. This wasn’t a first, not in the slightest. Denki has been underneath Hitoshi enough times that it was almost a comfort. But right now, his heart felt like it was going to explode, and he couldn’t wipe the excited smile from his lips. “What now?” Hitoshi asked, sounding a little insecure, and Denki nearly swooned.


He pushed himself up, and reached out for his boyfriend’s cheeks, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. He gingerly brushed his lips over Hitoshi’s, sighing softly when his hands slid down his thighs, bracketing his hips, the toy brushing Denki’s inner thighs. It made him throb, still excited and eager as ever. “Now, you take care of me.” He murmured against his mouth, leaning back down. “Alpha.” He tried to ignore the butterflies in his chest as he watched Hitoshi’s cheeks warm.


“Right.” He whispered to himself, reaching for the lube, and got the strap-on coated thoroughly. Denki’s breath hitched when Hitoshi brought the toy to his hole, his nerves calming down slightly when Hitoshi rubbed soothing circles into his hips. “Don’t worry.” He told him, pressing the head of his silicone cock to his entrance, “I’ve got you, so just relax.”


Denki exhaled softly, letting his arms settle on the sheets above his head, shutting his eyes and relaxing into the sheets like Hitoshi told him. He licked his lips, excitement still drumming through his veins, “I’m so hot…” He whispered, his fingers twitching before he carefully curled his hands into fists, “Everything hurts Toshi… please … please just— hah! ” His words were interrupted by the initial stretch of the dildo, just the tip of the toy was thicker than all three of Denki’s fingers were, but he was still grateful for the generous prepping he did, and all the lube that was supposed to act as slick.


Hitoshi seemed to like that too, judging by the soft hum he let out. “Look how wet you are… Aren’t you lucky I’m here? Imagine if you were all alone like this?”


Denki whined softly, his back barely arching as Hitoshi continued to feed the cock to his body. He was slow and careful, but each inch stole the oxygen from Denki’s lungs. “Oh God.” He cried, his nails cutting into the palms of Denki’s hands, “O-Oh, ‘Toshi… I don’t think I can… I’m already close.” He felt pathetic for it but he had to remind himself he just dedicated a ridiculous amount of time stretching himself. He stopped two orgasms, and tried to ignore the stimulation just so he can get to where he is now.


“Already?” Hitoshi breathed out a laugh, his hand smoothing up Denki’s chest, “You’re really going to come before you even get my knot?” Denki’s eyes widened, something tightened in his stomach, knotting over and over. He knew they talked this out, Denki walking him through the embarrassing details about the omegaverse just so they could play around with the concept in the bedroom, but he wasn’t ready for Hitoshi to say something like that. He was very fucking unprepared.


Denki hummed softly, looking between them as Hitoshi paused. He could feel the full weight of the toy inside him, he could feel the knot against his ass, but it wasn’t the time to take it yet. He wanted to be worked up for it, wanted it to feel as realistic as it could. Wanted it to be like how it was in the fiction and the threads he read online. “I want it. Please.. please I need it.” He nodded he head, groaning as Hitoshi started to languidly fuck his hips forward, little rocks that made Denki grit his teeth. The toy was so big that even the smallest movements reached deep and brushed right over his prostate. This was going to be fucking impossilbe, but this was only their first try. Maybe they would have to work up to this feeling more genuine. “Oh, Toshi.” Denki moaned, humming when Hitoshi’s hands curled around his thin waist.


Alpha .” He corrected and Denki whined, arching into his touch. “You should address me correctly, hm? After all, I'm being very generous in helping you through your heat.”

Denki felt himself smile, and tried to stop the giggles in his chest. It was hot—it really was, but it was also ridiculous to hear. He couldn’t believe Hitoshi was entertaining this, he really was lucky to have him. He couldn’t ruin this by laughing now.


“Why’re you making that face?” 


Denki felt himself sweat, but he reached out, pulling Hitoshi down, “It’s overwhelming.” He lied, pressing his lips to his boyfriends so he couldn’t call his bluff. Hitoshi seemed to let it go, and licked right into Denki’s mouth, rocking his hips hard into him, each thrust making the knot grind against the swell of his ass, but never entering. Denki was worried that it might actually rip in half if it entered his body, but that was a risk he was more than willing to take.


Their kiss was interrupted by a particularly hard thrust that made Denki gasp and arch. Hitoshi bit down on his lip, grinning. He looked a little too amused. “There we go.” He delivered another hard thrust, hsi arms wrapping around Denki’s waist, “You look good like that.”


“Alpha. Oh god, please .” He didn’t even know what he was begging for at this point, but his cock was drooling uncontrollably and Denki felt like he was seconds away from spilling. Hitoshi’s lips trailed down his neck, biting down on the junction where his shoulder met his neck. Denki whimpered, and then his entire brain melted when Hitoshi’s hand wrapped around his cock. He was already twitching, threatening to come at the first touch. “Wait. Waitwatiwait. I can’t.. I-I’ll come. Wanna wait til I’m—” Denki cried out, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as Hitoshi’s free hand wrapped around his hip, pinning him down as the knot started to push into him. Denki let out another choked noise, trembling as Hitoshi kept pushing his hips forward. 


“I take it you want to come on my knot? Huh, baby?” Hitoshi murmured, squeezing his hip, “I can do that.” 


“Oh God.. Tosh—Mmm—Alpha.” Denki gasped, arching as he felt the stretch. It hurt in ways he didn’t think it could. Sharp, stinging pains shooting up his spine, but Hitoshi’s hand was still on his cock, making him feel warm and fuzzy all over. It was a delicious mixture, keeping him aware and on the edge. “Alpha—I’m—”


“Just a little more. Hold on just a little longer.” Hitoshi encouraged and Denki’s hands twisted harshly in the sheets as he did exactly that. It felt impossible, but he bit down on his bottom lip, and tried to hang on with every fiber of his being. When the knot was entirely seated inside him Denki felt so filled, so perfect . He could feel the bulge in his stomach, and he was made even further aware of it when Hitoshi traced it. “Damn..” He murmured softly, his thumb swiping over the head of his dick. Denki shivered and Hitoshi picked up the pace, grinding his hips into him, making the toy rut against his deepest and most sensitive parts. Denki suddenly arched, his fingers twisting in the sheets again as he spilled over his own chest. He subconsciously clenched down on the toy and that just made him cry lauder as he twitched. He heard Hitoshi swear above him, stroking him through his orgasm that just made Denki feel like he was melting.


When he finally settled on the sheets he felt spent—more spent than he ever had. “Holy fuck.” He croaked softly, laughing breathlessly. 


Hitoshi laughed softly, and leaned down, the toy shifting slightly and eliciting a groan from Denki. “So uh… how do you feel about the wolf shit?” 


“Omegaverse.” Denki corrected with a giggle, “And shouldn’t that be obvious?” He was covered in his own seed, filled to brim, stomach bulging. Denki felt satisfied in his fucking bones . “We’re definitely do this again.”


“Do I get to be heat struck omega next time?” Hitoshi asked, mostly joking, but the idea of Hitoshi begging for his knot, and his ass being spread and begging was… enough to make his cock twitch back to life.


Well, shit. 

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


Yuuji didn’t feel good about it. He really, really didn’t. He knew it was wrong, and he knew it made him look like some sick, twisted pervert… but he couldn’t stop. He put the cameras up with Megumi’s permission, that was the thought he used to justify it. Megumi knew they were there, didn’t he? So then… everything Yuuji saw had to be what Megumi wanted him to see. It was a stretch, sure, but it was one that Yuuji clung to, desperately so.


There were only two. One in their bedroom, and one in the living room. The whole reason Yuuji put them there was because Sukuna kept letting himself in, and treating himself to their belongings. The both of them agreed this was the best way to deal with it—Catch Sukuna on camera, call him out on it. Confrontation was enough to make any panic, or at least fess up to their wrong doings. And it had worked, their goal had already been completed, and well.... the cameras were supposed to be turned off. Once they got Sukuna there was no reason to keep them on. Yuuji and Megumi agreed that was it, and took them down. But… Yuuji put them back up.


Megumi worked from home. Did some scheduling for a doctor. He made calls, kept a book, and sent emails. But Yuuji worked security at a local window factory. It was quiet during the nights, uneventful as the night shift did their work. Yuuji simply sat in a small room, watching the lobby cameras to make sure no one tried to sneak into the corporate offices. No one ever did, so Yuuji watched videos, or played games… or he jerked off. And that’s where the cameras came in.


Yuuji moved them to different spots, which Megumi didn’t know about. Or, was ignorant too. Yuuji swore Megumi looked directly at them before, but never said anything. Yuuji believed he knew about them, and he believed he didn’t care. That he wanted Yuuji to watch them. The way Megumi went about his day was just… fascinating. When Yuuji first watched him, it was just curiosity. He wondered what Megumi was doing at home, before they caught Sukuna. Megumi would read, or he’d watch television. For a long time, it was boring, but he’d peek in anyway, just to check up. One day when he fired up the app on his phone, he was immediately met with loud moaning in his ears, and the sight of Megumi riding a stranger on their couch. He was half naked, crouched over a cock that he bounced effortlessly on, his long fingers wrapped around his partner's throat as they got off together.


Yuuji went absolutely wild. It wasn’t the best angle, but the fucking idea of Megumi fucking himself on a dick while he choked that person out? Yuuji nearly jizzed in his pants. After that, he kept watching, waiting and hoping to see more. It’s why he put the cameras back up, because Yuuji became addicted to just watching. He caught Megumi doing some things. Once just jerking himself off, once fingering himself, a few other intimate moments where Megumi was taking advantage of his alone time .


Yuuji soon found that… Megumi even doing the mildest things made him horny. He didn’t know when it started, but he began jerking off while Megumi scrolled on his phone. There was something thrilling about watching Megumi through his screen. He thought he was so stunning, doing mundane shit without knowing there were eyes on him. Megumi didn’t know he was recorded, he didn’t know that while he sipped his tea, and watched television Yuuji had his pants around his ankles and his cock in his fist, jerking off aggressively to his roommates obviousness. It was like personal Megumi reality television, and Yuuji was an addict.


It wasn’t often that Megumi touched himself, and it was rarer that he invited someone over. Today, though, as he started up the app he was in luck. Immediately, there seemed to be nothing, as he was on the camera in the living room and it was void of life. He switched to their other one, and was pleasantly surprised to see Megumi on his bed, his face buried in the sheets, a pillow between his legs, hips helplessly grinding down into it. Yuuji felt like his mouth was dry as he watched, wishing the angle was better. He could see Megumi’s ass, but his face was out of frame, head turned the opposite way, and the camera was far enough away that Yuuji could only hear whispers of the noises Megumi was making.


Yuuji’s cock was pathetically eager, and he didn’t stop himself from reaching into his pants, wrapping a tight fist around himself. He slouched in the desk chair, ignoring the creaking as he started to slowly jerk himself off, eyes trained on Megumi’s ass. The way he fucked down into the pillow, the way his finger tightened their grip on the poor cushion. He wondered how long Megumi had been at this, how desperate he was feeling and if maybe… just maybe… he might get a partner soon so Yuuji could watch Megumi get fucked again. Yuuji wasn’t even sure if in the moment he wanted to be the pillow pinned underneath Megumi, or if he wanted to pin him down and mistreat him like the poor cushion.


But Yuuji noticed something as he fucked up into his fist. Megumi had all his pillows on his bed. Nothing was out of place besides some disheveled sheets. Yuuji’s bed however… was missing a pillow. His bed was out of a frame, because Yuuji didn’t put the camera there to watch his empty bed, but he could see a sliver of it. And he could see in the corner he was missing his pillow. Megumi was fucking his pillow.


As if on cue, Megumi moaned loud enough that Yuuji could hear it, and his hips stuttered before he took a few deep breaths and continued away humping Yuuji’s pillow. He should be mad, honestly, he should but this was stupid levels of hot. Megumi was fucking his pillow… was he thinking about him too? There had to be a reason he went for Yuuji’s, right? He wanted there to be. Did he know Yuuji was watching? Or did he just want to ruin something of Yuuji’s because he’s forgotten some chore again? He didn’t fucking care, he felt almost dizzy with how turned on his was, he bit down on his bottom lip to muffle his groans and jerked himself off faster, his eyes studying every single frame of Megumi. Wishing he could walk in and catch, wishing he could see what Megumi might do.


He’d be embarrassed first… yes… sweet pink flush and shocked eyes. But after that… would he explode? Yell and degrade Yuuji was barging in… or would he lock up and shrink in on himself? Yuuji didn’t know which but he really fucking wanted to find out. He thought a little too hard about catching him in and the act, and before he knew it he was coming into his own fist. He couldn’t catch it all, and surprised himself when he got some splashback on his shirt. But he swore as grabbed some tissues, cleaning up the best he could as he watched Megumi’s hips get rocky with each grind forward.


Megumi comes, just a minute or so after him. He comes with a sharp hiss and he comes on Yuuji’s pillow which is enough to have his cock twitching again. Megumi peels himself back, and flops over. His arm loose around the pillow before he hugs it closer, in almost an innocent way that tugs at the strings holding up Yuuji’s heart.


It only made him even more addicted to this horrible fucking web of lies he created.

Chapter Text


✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


Yoongi couldn’t help the way he trembled, the gasp that escaped his throat as he was jerked further up the bed. It was instinctual when he gripped Namjoon’s hand tighter, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to try and silence himself, the noises escaping his lips were a shock even to him, new and thrilling. Namjoon squeezed his hand back, and Yoongi lifted his head, looking at Namjoon who was sitting at the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard. “You’re doing good.” Namjoon told him, brushing some of Yoongi’s hair from his brow, his smile was sweet. The most comforting sight Yoongi had ever seen. This was stupid to be prasided over, wasn’t it? He was doing well at being fucked. He was technically doing nothing, Hoseok was the one doing everything. But the praise was still welcome, it still made Yoongi’s heart soar. “You’re so beautiful.”


“Joon.” Yoongi whined softly, burying his face into his husband's warm thigh, gasping as Hoseok’s cock brushed over his prostate again. He couldn’t even begin to describe how good this felt, even if he wanted to. This wasn’t even for him, technically, Namjoon was the one who wanted this. Claimed he wanted to watch Yoongi getting pleasured from a whole new perspective, and so they called in Hoseok to see if he would be interested in what technically wasn’t a threesome, but sort of felt a whole lot like it. But Namjoon and Hoseok had barely touched each other, and not at all in a sexual way.


Yoongi wouldn’t mind seeing that. At all. But this was about him, right now. Namjoon just wanted to watch, and Yoongi was just… supposed to ignore the bulge in his pants in favor of… of taking. Of Hoseok fucking him.


Looking at Hoseok was… overwhelming in unimaginable ways. His bright friend was an entirely different energy in the bedroom. He was hot, and dark. Sweet chestnut eyes were tainted, and his sweet fingers gripped tighter than Yoongi could imagine. It should have been obvious that Hoseok was good with his hips—he was a dance teacher for fucks sake. Yoongi saw the shit he could do with his hips but this was unbelievable.


“There is a third person here, lovebirds.” Hoseok teased, his hands sliding up to squeeze Yoongi's thin waist. He punctuated his playful word with a sharp thrust, right against Yoongi’s prostate and Yoongi keened, arching hard into the air while his dick bobbed helplessly. He absolutely could touch himself, and could finish pretty quickly too. But where was the fun in that?


“You look so good getting fucked.” Namjoon murmured, he sounded a bit winded, his palm suddenly feeling clammy than it had. Yoongi blinked up at him, moans escaping his lips with each thrust Hoseok gave to his body. His face was flushed, his lips slightly parted. Yoongi didn’t quite understand it… just sitting there, doing nothing but watching. He didn’t know what Namjoon saw here, watching him getting railed. If it were him, he would join in. He liked that idea. He liked the idea of Hoseok and Namjoon both fucking him. Shit, that was a fantastic idea. But Namjoon really did look satisfied just watching him. His eyes were shining, and now he was finally rubbing his cock. His other hand massaging and jerking himself off through his pants.


Yoongi wanted to suck him off. But that wasn’t the agreement. Yoongi’s role here was nothing but a pillow princess. Hoseok’s little play thing. And damn, that felt good too. But it was like there was an itch that wasn’t being scratched for him. He felt Hoseok’s hand wrap around his cock, and before Yoongi could even react Namjoon was groaning hotly, squeezing Yoongi’s hand harder. “That’s it.” It sounded more like he was encouraging Hoseok now, and Yoongi whimpered as Hoseok pumped his cock faster, perfectly insync with his hips. Hoseok was a menace, and Yoongi was sure he envied him.


He arched again, his back bowing as he tried his hardest to hold out. But it was all in vain. Yoongi came with a sharp cry, spilling all over his own chest, a pathetic whimper escaping past his lips mid high. He clenched down Hard on Hoseok, and produced a delicious moan from him, but he didn’t stop. He only fucked him harder. It left Yoongi drooling, jerking even heavier with every movement. “Oh, fuck. Oh, God.”


“Do you like getting fucked by him?” Namjoon asked, his voice hot and heavy, his cock bow completely out, sobbing as Namjoon jerked himself off sloppily. “I bet you love getting ruined when all your husband can do is watch.”


“Joonie.” Yoongi sobbed pathetically, nuzzling further into his thigh, moaning as Namjoon released his hand and petted his hair instead.


Namjoon groaned softly. “You don’t have to say it. I know how much you like Hoseok destroying you guts, it’s written over your face… I mean, hell, you’re covered in proof, aren’t you?” Yoongi hissed, but was surprised when he heard a moan leave Hoseok’s throat as well.


“What the fuck , Joon.” He groaned again, obviously affected by Namjoon’s words as well. How couldn’t he be? Yoongi’s husband was a fucking God. Sweet, loving, and sexy as fuck. Hoseok’s hips twitched before they stilled, and he spilled into Yoongi, filling his insides with hot, thick come that left him trembling. Namjoon groaned softly, his hand covering the top of his cock as he came just seconds after Hoseok, and they were all spent panting, relaxing into the bed, trying to piece themselves together.


Hoseok was the first to break the silence. “You’re a fucking demon, Namjoon.” He laughed softly as he said it, and Namjoon’s cheeks warmed as he laughed to himself.


“Sorry… You guys are just… beautiful together.”


“Are you trying to propose?” Hoseok giggled, pulling out of Yoongi, who whimpered softly. “I’m sorry, baby.” He soothed softly, his warm hand rubbing gentle circles into his abdomen, “You felt so good, though. Were literally perfect.” 


Yoongi smiled softly at him, as much of a smile he could manage at least, and Hoseok collapsed next to him on the bed, wrapping his arms around Yoongi, cuddling close. “Time for my end of the deal.” Hoseok sighed happily and Namjoon grinned, dimples on display as he tucked himself back into his pants and shifted, turning to cuddle  into Yoongi as well, his arms wrapping around both him and Hoseok. “There it is.” Hoseok sighed happily.


“You’re both too hot.” Yoongi complained softly, fanning his face.


“Too bad, loser. You wanted your worlds rocked, I wanted cuddles. Now pay up.” Hoseok pouted, pressing his face further into Yoongi’s neck, peppering kisses over his sweaty skin. Yoongi laughed, pressing further into Namjoon to try and escape, but it was useless. He was trapped between them. Not that he minded all that much. 

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Hours . It genuinely feels like hours to Keiji, he feels like he’s lost all concept of time, and all he’s here to do is be fucked into oblivion. His last gasping breath will be Bokuto Koutarou’s name, and there’s something almost poetic about that. Koutarou being the one to tear him open, expose him to the world, and end his life all in one fell swoop is a story for the ages. But if there is one hand Keiji has to go by, he’s happy for it to be Koutarou’s. They’re big and strong. He has thick fingers, rough from all the volleyball, and knows all the right ways to touch him. They’re currently dancing up his hips, and curling around his waist. In one fell swoop, they pull Keiji’s flush against his hips, which drives his cock deeper inside him and punches out a groan keep from within Keiji’s chest.


“Bokuto-san.” Keiji cries, his hands fisting tighter in the sheets, not caring when one corner pulls off completely. He’s too distracted by Koutarou’s powerful and perfect thrusts to concern himself with anything else. His entire body is on fire, the source in the pit of his abdomen and driving him absolutely mad.


Koutarou nips at the junction of his throat, his hands squeezing Keiji’s waist, “None of that.” He groans hotly into his skin, his arms wrapping tight around him before he starts to lean back, lifting Keiji helplessly off the bed, and into his lap as he sits back against the headboard, “I want to see you do some work now, Keiji.” He has the audacity to giggle with his words. Keiji’s head is spinning at the new position, but he’s aware he’s empty, and that’s the first problem he fixes.


He’s sitting in Koutarou’s lap, and with a quick adjustment, his boyfriend's thick cock is sliding back inside him. He moans hotly as he sinks down on his length, trembling as he’s filled in an entirely different way from before. Riding Koutarou like this touches him deeply, in ways he adores, but his stamina isn’t what it used to be, and it’s even further from Koutarou’s now than it was then. Keiji rolls his hips, slowly adjusting to the angle before he can properly lift and drop himself on Koutarou’s dick.


Koutarou’s perfect hands were greedy as they explored Keiji’s body. Sliding up and over his waist, feeling across the soft planes on his stomach, and then they finally stop at Keiji’s pecs, giving a hard squeeze. “Koutarou.” Keiji gasps.


He responds by thumbing over Keiji’s nipples, pressing hard into them before he pinches. Keiji’s hips stutter as he’s distracted by the pleasure, and he finds it increasingly difficult to keep up with riding Koutarou while he insists on playing with him. Koutarou plucks, and pulls. Pinches hard before his mouth covers one of his tits, and he bites down hard. Keiji instinctively moves back, but Koutarou’s arm traps him there, keeping them flush together as he soothes over the bite with his tongue. His other hand is still relentless as he massages and pinches at his other breast. Keiji can barely catch his breath, he’s not even bouncing anymore, just entirely at Koutarou’s greedy mercy.


Koutarou’s teeth graze the bud of Keiji’s chest, teasing, and mean, but he bites down a second later. It’s hard enough to make Keiji yelp, and Koutarou just tightens his grip as his hand slides lower and his mouth moves to give attention to Keiji’s other breast. They’re sore already, and the spit is drying uncomfortably on him as Koutarou paid his special attention to his other nipple. “Koutarou.. hah .. it hurts.” It hurt good but Keiji’s going wild. Koutarou’s dick is stiff inside him, unmoving because of how tightly he’s holding them together, and Keiji's hardness is leaking pathetically, in need of far more attention.


“Sorry, baby.” Koutarou slurs around his tit, leaning back with a trail of spit still connecting him, “Just love your tits so fuckin’ much. Oh my god.” He plasters his mouth over him again, biting down hard as he sucks hungrily. Keiji doesn’t get what there is to like about them, but he doesn’t have any time to make that argument as Koutarou tears into them. Sucking and biting, and moving back and forth between them. At least he starts to rock his hips up so Keiji can get some stimulation that is desperately needed. 


“Koutarou.” Keiji’s hands thread into his hair as he gives another harsh bite, one that makes him arch his back. “Stop playing around. Fuck me.” He groans, gritting his teeth as Koutarou defiantly pulls on his nipple with his teeth.


Koutarou giggles softly, and just the sound of it annoys Keiji to no end. It’s far too calm compared to Keiji’s slipping composure. He hates that. He hates when he feels like Koutarou has the upper hand. “Do you think you can come from me playing with your tits?”


Keiji groans as both of Koutarou’s hands move to his chest, massaging his fingers into them, trying to grope as much as he can. “Absolutely not.” He trembles, his dick betraying him as it bobbed and drooled eagerly. His pecs are sore, aching now from all the attention and stimulation. Koutarou hums softly, his eyes on Keiji’s untouched dick as his hands meticulously massages his tits. “Koutarou… please.” Keiji trembles, his teeth gritting as he rut his hips forward, his cock grinding against his prostate. “Please.”


“Sounds like you don’t need my help at all.” It’s said matter of factly, maybe even with a hint of smugness and Keiji throws caution to the wind. He just wants to come at this point. If this is going to get him there, then fine. Keiji concedes. He grinds back on Koutarou’s cock, so that he’s stimulating his prostate while Koutarou makes it a point to keep his hands on his chest, until he leans forward again to nip at the flesh. It helps get him off, Keiji knows it does, but he doesn’t care how right Koutarou might be, he just cares about the swelling orgasm in the pit of his gut. And he chases it desperately, uncaring about touching his dick. Koutarou’s cock and mouth are more than enough to get him there.


He comes with a choked groan, spilling between their bodies while Koutarou is still sucking at his tits like a newborn. Keiji’s sure his head is spinning as he comes down from his high, he never even realized that during his high he clung into Koutarou. Keiji sits back some, Koutarou’s arms wrapping around his waist as he shifts him back into the bed, hovering above him. “Look at that. That was almost perfect.” He says softly as he leans down, brushing his lips over Keiji’s. “You just have to hold on a little longer, it’s my turn.” Koutarou hums happily as he guides his cock back into Keiji’s body. Keiji arches and cries, Koutarou’s other hands finding and kneading back into Keiji’s already too sensitive chest. His obsession seems endless at this point.


Keiji pants softly as he looks up at Koutarou, reaching out to wrap his arms around his shoulders, bringing him down until their noses bump together, “Do you think you could make me come again, Koutarou?” If this is going to be a thing, he might as well get everything out of that he can. 


He notices the flush that spreads across Koutarou’s cheeks, and finally feels a bit of control again which is more than enough to make arousal flood back through his veins. “Shit, Keiji.” Koutarou exhales hotly, slotting their mouths together hungerly, his thumb swiping over the perky bud on his chest.


Keiji moans into the kiss, arching into the touch. And he thinks, with enough practice, and taming of Koutarou, he can really enjoy Koutarou's sudden interest in his chest.

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“Fuck. Fuck . Slow down, will ya?” Katsuki's hand is pressed back against his bed frame, his back arching so harshly he’s practically bowed. His entire body is covered in a thing layer of sweat, and there’s a satisfying, familiar ache in his hips and ass that’s only produced after a thorough fuck. One that’s still ongoing, despite the back, Katsuki's pathetic cock already made a mess atop his chest, painting his abdomen and his chest. Now every thrust was sending him into overstimulation because Eijirou was an absolute monster apparently.


“I can’t.” His words are choked out, and pathetic, his entire face is flushed and his grip on Katsuki’s hips is tightening. It’s not strange to see Eijirou getting overwhelmed like this. He’s always been victim to his emotions, to the pleasure he sought out. But at the very least, Katsuki’s glad Eijirou is good at what he does. As lost as he gets in his own pleasure, it’s never at the expense of Katsuki’s orgasm. He does well at taking care of them both. Katsuki might even consider him cute, if he’s feeling generous on that particular day.


Eijirou doesn’t last much longer, though. That much is obviously but his stuttered hips, and sloppy movements. When he does finally come, he pulls out of Katsuki and spills into his chest—their messes mixing together, painting Katsuki even further. Katsuki moans at the feeling. He likes it, even if he does scoff in annoyance, decides to blame that on Eijirou’s lack of warning.


Katsuki looks down at himself as Eijirou pants above him, trying to calm himself after his orgasm. He pushes himself onto his elbows, and frowns at the mess over his skin, groaning softly. “Look at this mess.” He complains softly, and Eijirou lifts his head, his eyes scanning Katsuki’s form. The flush on his cheek doesn’t die down, but he does reach out, and smoothes his hand into the mess. Katsuki flinches, blinking once, then twice as Eijirou smears the come up his chest, pressing it into his skin. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Katsuki scoffs in disbelief, his heart racing against his chest.


Eijirou smiles at him, completely innocent and oblivious, “I think you look good like this.” He hums, almost happily. When he draws his fingers away, there’s still come clinging to them, and Katsuki watches in shock as Eijirou brings his fingers to his lips and sucks on them. His lips wrap around them, tongue peeking out as he licks them completely clean.


He has no words, he’s in complete and utter shock. Eijirou doesn’t even seem to be giving his expression any care, it’s like he’s in his own world. Eijirou has the audacity to lean forward, his eyes on Katsuki’s as he licks up his chest, cleaning him from their releases. Katsuki’s breath hitches as he watches him, his fingers twitching at his sides as Eijirou licks him clean, sucking and nipping at his abs as he does so. Katsuki’s sure his brain stops working as he watches, little hitches in his breath when Eijirou’s sharp teeth graze him. “What the.... fuck.” 


“You don’t like it?” Eijirou’s voice has a soft whine to it, his lips pulling into a small pout. Shit, he was cute. Katsuki licks his lips, and watches Eijirou lean back, moaning as he wraps his hand around Katsuki’s half-hard cock. “Seems like you do…”


“F-Fuck you.” Katsuki hisses as Eijirou slowly works his hand up and down his length, Katsuki’s cock coming back to life in his hand. Eijirou gives a hard squeeze, and Katsuki whines his back arching just barely off the bed, “Shit.. don’t fuck with me.”


Eijirou laughs softly, his breath fanning over Katsuki’s dick, making him twitch in anticipation. “Do you think you can come again?”


Katsuki laughs bitterly, “Why? So you can lick me clean again?”


“Maybe..” Eijirou giggles softly before he leans down, wrapping his lips around his length, bobbing his head over him. Katsuki groans softly, his hands sliding into his hair, tugging lightly on it. Eijirou hums around his cock, swallowing Katsuki deeper into his mouth. He’s still sensitive, still has a heat burning across his skin. He whines softly as his cock slips into Eijirou’s throat with each bob of his head. His mouth is so warm, and tight and Katsuki can’t help himself from moving his hips, grinding deeper into Eijirour’s throat as he lets his mouth go slack, lets Katsuki fuck into his mouth.


It doesn’t take very long for his balls to tighten, and then spill into Eijirou’s mouth with a soft whine. He pants softly afterwards, one of his arms falling to the bed while the other wipes the sweat from his brow. Katsuki can feel Eijirou shifting, but he didn’t think anything of it. Not until his chin is suddenly grabbed and squeezed, forcing his mouth open as Eijirou spits Katsuki’s own seed into his mouth. Katsuki choked in surprise, spitting up some of his release, which Eijirou leans down to lick up from his lip and chin, “You’re supposed to swallow, y’know.”


Katsuki does it with a shudder and grimace, growling softly as he shoves at Eijirou’s shoulder, “What’s your deal ?” He cries as Eijirou giggles at him, only pissing him off further.


“I can’t help it when you’re so easy to rile up.”


With a huff, Katsuki shifts forward, pinning Eijirou back on his bed with a smirk, “Keep it up, brat. And I’ll edge you until you're begging.” 


Eijirou smiles, it’s supposed to be casual, but comes off more amused than he intends. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.” He challenges easily, reaching up to wrap his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, pulling him down into a deep kiss. Katsuki wants to pull away, to continue complaining and whining, but instead he gives in, shares the kiss with Eijirou, still tasting his own bitter come on his tongue.


Katsuki’s aware of the fact that he’s whipped and weak for Eijirou, something he’ll have to deal with and overcome later. But right now, some kissing isn’t too bad… just for the moment he’d let Eijirou get away with this. Just once.

Chapter Text



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This was true power. It wasn’t about money, it wasn’t about strength, or beauty. True power was making a man as big, and as powerful as Wakatoshi bend to his will. It was seeing his hands tied to the headboard, his eyes covered by black slink, noise cancelling headphones over his ears, and a pretty red gag in his mouth. Honestly, putting Wakatoshi in this situation was so much fun, Satori didn’t even know how to start playing with him. He didn’t even know how long he was just standing beside the bed, grinning at him, taking photos on his phone, Wakatoshi completely obvious to it. He was oblivious to everything. A big, dumb, pretty baby. Oh, Satori adored this. All he knew was that he was standing there long enough that Wakatoshi was getting restless… shifting slightly, trying to situate himself.


He wondered how it felt to be Wakatoshi right now. To not hear, or see. He wasn’t able to reach out, or even speak. Wakatoshi's mouth was forced open, and he was already drooling. Shining spit on the ball, and around his mouth. Satori worked himself up, fingers twitching to touch, his cock stirring in his sweats. Wakatoshi was his to play with, at his mercy, all Satori could want and more. And part of him wanted nothing. He wanted to leave him here, watch patiently as Wakatoshi completely lost himself and went insane.


But touching was far too tempting. Having such a big, beautiful man like this was something Satori needed to take advantage of. He stepped forward, absolutely loving that Wakatoshi was clueless. Didn’t know where he was approaching from, didn’t know where he was going to touch. Satori gently laid his hand on Wakatoshi’s inner thigh, and grinned at the hard flinch he gave. He looked up helplessly, at where he assumed Satori was standing. And he was close, it was kind of impressive. Wakatoshi must have just had good senses.


Satori let his fingers gently slide down, until he could trace along the length of his cock. He was only half hard, but Satori didn’t mind that so much. It wouldn’t take long at all to work his angel up, Wakatoshi responded well to touch, he always had. He wrapped his fingers around him, and slowly jerked his cock, working him up, and appreciating the muffled noise that couldn’t leave his lips. Satori swiped his thumb over the head of his dick, pressing against the slit. He giggled softly when Wakatoshi’s hips twitched upward, and the bed creaked when he tugged on the restraints. Oh, yes. He loved that.


He wanted to speak, to tease him, to say something, but it would be useless, Wakatoshi couldn’t do anything. And Satori wasn’t oblivious to the fact he got hard fast, and was obviously enjoying the helpless situation he was in. He liked being at Satori’s mercy and that alone was enough to get Satori’s cock entirely hard, and aching against the fabric of his sweatpants.


Satori reached for the lube on the end table, and hummed softly, kicking off his sweatpants. He removed his hand from Wakatoshi’s cock, and pulled the little remote from his hoodie pocket, clicking it on the lowest setting, watching Wakatoshi twitch upwards at the sudden vibrations invading his body. Satori couldn’t keep himself from giggling as he placed a hand on the nightstand and bent forward to prep himself. It was mean, riding Wakatoshi when he couldn’t touch. He knew how much he loved to smooth his hands over Satori’s skin, how he used touch to ground himself. But now, he was going to be floating, and Satori was excited to see that.


He spread himself open easily, watching as Wakatoshi rolled his hips down, no doubt grinding on the toy. God, that idea drove him mad… Wakatoshi helplessly trying to rut over his own prostate. Next time, Satori was going to tie his legs as well. He was going to completely make him useless. Satori stretched as much as he wanted, well enough that the only pain he was going to feel was going to be the fun kind , and he got onto the bed, straddling his hips. He noticed the way Wakatoshi perked up, his head twisting and something useless being spoken into the gag.  Satori really wanted to know what he was saying, but he let it go. He reached back for Wakatoshi’s cock instead, and lowered himself onto it.


Satori groaned as he felt Wakatoshi’s length filling him, and he couldn’t help but smirk when the headboard groaned as Wakatoshi pulled at his restraints. “You want to touch so bad, huh, baby?” Satori cooed at him, smoothing his hands up Wakatoshi’s chest, giggling when he felt his body tremble. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last long, and he doubted Wakatoshi was either.


Satori rocked his hips down, before he slowly started to ride him. Lifting and easing back down, his hands playfully tweaking a nipple, and wrapping around his shoulder. Satori was hypnotized by Wakatoshi. He watched the drool get so excessive it was down his chin now, and his hands were so tightly fisted that his knuckles were white. “Must feel good.” He giggled to himself, leaning forward to lick the drool from his chin, Wakatoshi flinching before he leaned forward as much as he could, nosing at Satori’s cheek. He nuzzled into him, seeking affection.


Satori’s heart melted in his chest, but he gave it, cuddling closer as he bounced faster, panting against Wakatoshi’s neck. He picked a pretty spot to nurse. Licked and sucked there before he reached for the remote, and turned the vibrator up. Wakatoshi cried out, muffled into the gag, but still vocal. Satori trembled, rolling his hips back and groaning as Wakatoshi’s cock brushed his prostate. Fuck. That was too good. He did it again, and again, not waiting before he kicked the toy up to its highest setting. Wakatoshi whimpered and his hips kicked up blindly, fucking pathetically and sloppily into Satori’s ass.


Satori wrapped his hand around himself, jerking his cock as he rocked down into Wakatoshi, his orgasm swelling as Wakatoshi got more and more desperate with his movements. He absolutely gets off on the composed and graceful Ushijima Wakatoshi crumbling because of him. And right now, this was everything he needed and more. But Wakatoshi came first, surprisingly. He tensed up before he arched with a cry, spilling into Tendou’s ass, emptying his balls as he groaned. Satori wished he could hear all those noises in their glory, but the thought was fleeting as his own orgasm peaked. He spilled into his own fist, and over Wakatoshi’s beautiful fucking abs. He could hear Wakatoshi whimper as Satori clenched down on him.


He rode out his orgasm, panting hotly before he rested his head on Wakatoshi’s shoulder, humming softly and kissing along his shoulder. “You’re such a good boy.” He told him, regardless of whether Wakatoshi could hear him or not. But there was one thing he did notice.


Wakatoshi’s hard on had barely faded. He was still stiff inside him and Satori gave a curious roll of his hips, and watched Wakatoshi throw his head back with a sob. Satori grinned wickedly, clicking the vibrations down so he could relax. “Not done yet?” He asked Wakatoshi, who couldn’t even respond. Satori trailed a hand down his chest, squeezing his tit hard before he flicked over his nipple. “So needy… but if you’re going to insist… We can keep going.” He laughed softly, peppering kisses over his collarbone, rolling his hips again and moaning with Wakatoshi as he brushed his prostate. The night had barely even begun, apparently. But that was to be expected… Wakatoshi was always so thirsty for his attention, after all. And Satori was whipped enough to give him every drop of it. 

Chapter Text



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“I have to admit, this is probably the first time I’ve ever been able to stand you.” The playfulness in Kei’s voice was so thick, he might as well have giggled along with his words. It would have been annoying if Tobio didn’t have a million other things going on right now, if he could actually process a real thought. But that wasn’t happening, not anytime soon, so Kei was going to get away with it, the bastard.


Hands cupped Tobio’s cheeks, and gently tilted his head up. It was Hitoka’s kind smile he was met with, her thumbs gently swiping over his wet cheeks. “Why don’t you just tell him he’s a good boy like the rest of us? It’s fun, I promise.” Tobio felt warm all over when she addressed him so sweetly, when her eyes were as relaxed like they were. Finally she calmed her nerves down enough to enjoy herself, and that made Tobio enjoy this a lot more too. 


Kei scoffed softly, his hips twitching as Tobio’s fist tightened around his cock, “I’d rather die.” His words were plain, and simple. Tobio groaned softly, his lashes fluttering at Kei’s dismissal. He liked both. The praise, and the disrespect. It was what he expected from Kei, and it still turned him on. A big, major part of them loved the idea of just being useful to Kei right now in this moment alone. As nothing more than an object for him to play with.


But… Shouyou and Tadashi were here too. All four of them. And all their focus was on him.


“Jeez, Tsukishima.” Shouyou groaned softly, fucking much more eagerly into his fist, his hand gently rested on the nape of Tobio’s neck. “You could pretend you want to be here. I didn’t offer because I thought you’d keep being miserable.” 


Tobio brought his eyes back to Hitoka, who ran her thumb over his bottom lip, gently pressing it past, tracing his bottom row of teeth. Tobio hummed softly, and opened his mouth for her, sitting pliantly as she pressed her thumb further into his mouth. She was in front of him, in nothing but her underwear, while Shouyou and Kei were at his sides, using his hands as if they were fleshlights. Tadashi on the other hand…


“All this talking is…” He gasped helplessly, his hips stuttering as his nails cut into Tobio’s hips, “Really throwing me off. Please, guys.” He sounded a bit winded, probably closer to his edge than the rest of them. Hitoka laughed softly at his mild complaining as she withdrew her thumb from Tobio’s mouth. She stood up, Tobio’s eyes following her as she hovered above him.


Her face was flushed, fingers twitching with a moment's hesitation before she smoothed a hand over the mound between her legs. “Kageyama…  can you..” She asked softly, and Tobio felt his own neglected cock twitch before one nodded eagerly and opened his mouth for her. She exhaled as she stood over him, pushing her panties aside, her fingers sliding into his hair as Tobio plastered his mouth over her. She let out a little gasp as Tobio licked eagerly at her clitoris, but she relaxed into the feeling, moaning softly as she pressed more firmly against him.


“That’s so hot.” Shouyou groaned, his cock drooling, his thumb massaging the crook where Tobio’s shoulder met his neck. “God, Kageyama… I didn’t know you could even be so pliant.


Kei was moaning softly, his hand reaching out for Tobio’s shoulder as he leaned forward, his hips stuttering. “It’s… certainly surprising.” He said through grit teeth, his orgasm sneaking up on him, but he held on, trying his hardest not to be the first to come.


But Kei didn’t have to worry about that, because Tadashi was hanging by a thread. He kept his eyes shut, because if he looked down, he would see the expanse of Tobio’s toned back. His muscular hips that were easy to cling to, and then the soft swell of his ass. He would see him . The way his cock slid easily in and out of Tobio’s ass. And that sight was too much. He almost came immediately, the moment he felt the first squeeze of Tobio’s tight ass. It’s not like Tadashi had never fucked anyone before—he had … but this was just new. Multiple people, his friends . He was fucking his friend, and it felt good, and his other friends were also getting off in such close space… all of it too much. Too hot.


Hitoka gasped as Tobio circled her heat with his tongue, licking flatly up the length of her mound before he pressed his tongue inside her, humming as he tasted her warm, sweet insides. He wanted to drag her closer, but he practically had no hands right now, it was absolutely useless to try. Tobio squeezed both Kei’s and Shouyou’s cocks, earning a loud groan from Shouyou, and a soft hiss from Kei. Surprisingly, he felt Tadashi tense as well, his cock twitching inside him as his pants got louder, and his movements sloppy.


This was hard, paying attention, trying to make everyone feel good. That’s all Tobio wanted. He wanted everyone to feel good . He wanted to make them proud, whether they would admit that out loud or not. Tobio could prove they liked it, all it took was one sweet, perfect orgasm caused by him.


He still couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe he was letting his friends use him like this, but at the same time it felt fantastic. They didn’t get to see each other often anymore—every time they did it had to be special. Life as an adult with work, and classes was… impossible at times. Letting his friends each have a turn like this was the least Tobio could do. He had been with them before, not all at once, but he couldn’t deny making them feel good.


Shouyou was a common occurrence, their friendship had certain benefits since high school. And as for Kei… well, there was always a love-hate dynamic between them, and Kei enjoyed watching Tobio on his knees for him, like some sick power trip, but Tobio didn’t mind it. As for Hitoka and Tadashi.. Well, they had never done anything this dramatic. He had never done anything like this before . Never been with more than one person, let alone four . But it was like the cherry on top, finally having them all here, letting them do what they wanted, being a vessel for their pleasure. To praise or degrade… to be the one thing they could use to feel good. That’s all Tobio wanted… and it felt so good to put his needs aside and focus on them. Their noises, their movements, their expressions. Tobio loved them all so much… he loved them.


Hitoka was quickly  falling apart above him, her hands fisting tightly in his locks as she pulled his head closer, whining softly as she grinded her hips against his face. “O-Oh, God..” She tried to catch her breath, and Tobio just groaned softly in response. He sucked on her clit, letting his teeth graze over it, the action making her tremble.


But she wasn’t the only one falling apart. Behind him Tadashi was clingy to the last edges of restraint, but it wasn’t enough before he was burying his cock deep inside Tobio, and resting his forehead between his shoulder blades as he spilled into the condom. Tobio could feel his hot breath fanning over his back, and it made goose pimples prick as Tadashi melted into his orgasm, and relaxed. Tobio hummed against Hitoka, his heart racing against his chest as he felt Tadashi slowly pull out of him. Being empty was almost painful, and Tobio couldn’t stop the whimper that left his mouth as Tadashi leaned back, gently rubbing up and down his spine, trying to soothe the emptiness away. “You felt so good, Kageyama.” He praised him softly, and he felt lips pressed to his shoulder blade. “Thank you.”


He couldn’t say much, but he hummed, squeezing Shouyou’s and Kei’s cocks again, appreciating the noises they both made. Tadashi stepped back, probably to get washed up, and that left the three of them, Hitoka slipping into her orgasm the fastest now, her grip on his hair so tight it was almost painful. But he didn’t mind that.


Shouyou’s hips slowed down, his hand gently smoothing down his back. “Do you want to be fucked more, Kagayama?” He asked softly, his voice hot. He didn’t stop his hand, reaching all the way down, sliding his fingers over Tobio’s abused, stretched hole. “I know how much you hate feeling empty here.” Tobio nodded his head eagerly, the best that he could with Hitoka’s grip, and thankfully Shouyou got the message.


But it wasn’t something he was going to get easily, before Kei scoffed at them, “Always so greedy.” He complained, Tobio unable to look at him as his attention was focused on Hitoka. But his eyes were narrowed on Shouyou, who met him in an equal glare. “I find it funny you think you’re just owed the next spot. Like I want yours and Tadashi’s sloppy seconds.”


“I guess.. I just don’t think you have it in you to last long enough.” Shouyou challenged with a shrug, and a smile. Kei grit his teeth, annoyance written on his face.


Before he could speak Tadashi returned to the room, gently rolling his eyes. “Instead of fighting about it, don’t you think the both of you can find another solution.”


“Yes… please. The bickering is… very distracting.” Hitoka managed out through her moans, her entire body trembling as she was inched just over the edge, hovering above her orgasm, trying so hard to get there. But that was impossible with two grown men arguing like children. 


“Sorry, Yachi.” Shouyou pouted, Kei apologizing softly as well.


Tobio felt a little guilty, and also aroused at the idea of being fought over. But to keep them on track he gave a few confident tugs to their cocks, jerking them off in tandem and appreciating the way they both groaned simultaneously. When he was focusing on jerking them off, he couldn’t pay as much attention to Yachi, but that was fine because she was practically riding his tongue, using Tobio to get to her own orgasm.


When Yachi finally came, it was with a strangled whimper. She pressed Tobio’s face so close to her heat as she panted, and trembled. He could barely breathe, but he licked her through it, relished in the feeling of her nails in his hair and groaned against her mound. She let him go, but Tobio didn’t back away, he kept licking her, kept her teetering on the edge until she had to physically push his face back with a weak giggled. “Oh my God.” She sighed softly, gently petting him, admiring his wet mouth, and cheeks. “Y-You look so pretty like that.” She told him, and Tobio felt himself blush.


“He always looks good with his face painted.” Shouyou confirmed, and Tobio glanced at him, his heart warm at the sweet smile on his best friends list.


Just then, it was like a light bulb went off and Yachi grinned as she lowered herself back onto her knees in front of Tobio. “Couldn’t you guys just.. y’know… on his face.” She pointed to her own cheeks as Tadashi sat on the bed beside her. Shouyou perked up at the idea, and even Kei tilted his head in interest.


“It’s a good idea.” Tadashi encouraged, reaching out to wrap his hand around Tobio’s flushed, whining dick. The touch sent Tobio into a frenzy. He tensed up, moaning hotly as he all but curled in on himself, his grip on Shouyou and Kei wavering until he just let go all together, bucking pathetic into Tadashi’s hand. “Oh.” Tadashi gasped, and Shouyou was quick to wrap his own hand around his cock.


“Fuck.” He grit, reaching out to tug Tobio’s head back harshly by the hair, “Fuck it, I’m doing it.” He gave a few tugs to his cock while Tobio was practically crossed eyed, tongue hanging out to catch any release he could. His brain was melted, his cock already spilling into Tadashi’s hand, far too sensitive to last any length of time. Shouyou spilled over his face, painting his lips, and his cheek, and even the bridge of his nose.


Kei swore softly, and inched closer, Tobio shifting his gaze to meet his, watching Kei fumble as he angled his dick. “Keep him there.” He told Shouyou, so pulled harder on Tobio’s hair and made him whine loudly. Kei came messily, over his brow, and his eye and his cheek. He breathed harshly with his orgasm, nearly doubling over as he finished, leaving Tobio there, covered in their come. 


This is what Tobio wanted. This is what felt good to him. Hearing the satisfied pants of his friends, feeling Tadashi’s hand rubbing his hip, and Hitoka squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. Knowing that he made them all come, was good enough to pleasure all of them, at once . He loved them, he really, really did. even if he was too awkward to admit it.


“Next time.” Tobio breathed out, felt like he was speaking for the first time in hours, “We can talk about you guys both fucking me…”


Shouyou grinned beside him, pressing closer, “Talk like that… and you’ll get riled up again.”


Tobio challenged  his grin with one of his own. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


“I… really don’t see the appeal to this.” Enji’s words are hesitant, a soft breathy exhale following as he lays patiently below him. Honestly, seeing Enji pliant and waiting is enough to get Keigo off alone, but for once he’s able to convince the stubborn old man to do something fun. And Keigo has to admit… he likes Enji’s cluelessness.


Keigo settles atop him, sitting back on his abdomen, smoothing his finger through the hair on Enji’s chest, “Well, good thing this is for me.” Keigo grins down at him, leaning in to brush his hips over Enji’s. He moans softly when strong, calloused hands bracket his hips, and licks at the seam of Enji’s mouth, letting himself have a sweet taste of him before he leans back. “This is going to be fun. I promise.”


Enji shifts, pressing his head back into the pillows, nodding quietly as he looks down at Keigo’s dick. He hums, and reaches for himself, giving a few strokes, making sure he is hard and wet with lubricant before he moves his hips forward, sliding against Enji’s tits. This is nice, feeling Enji’s warm chest beneath him. Keigo hums, his hands reaching down to grope his soft pecs, licking his lips as Enji’s brow twitches. Keigo swipes his thumbs over Enji’s nipples, grinning as Enji exhales softly. “I told you you were sensitive here.” 


“That barely counts.” He counters softly, squeezing Keigo’s hips, his hands smoothing down to knead into the meat of his ass. “But if you go any slower I’m going to end this.”


Keigo giggles to himself, leaning down, “Oh, are we getting eager? Feeling impatient?” He teases, glancing between Enji’s eyes. “Do you want to beg me, Todoroki-san?” 


His face twists in response, but Keigo decides to leave it there, laughing to himself as he looks down. He gently rolls his hips, cupping Enji’s breasts, and pressing them tight against his cock. He exhales hotly, shutting his eyes as he grinds forward, fucking between them. There’s some friction, thanks to the hefty amount of hair that dusts  Enji’s chest, but oddly enough, Keigo doesn’t mind that. His pecs are warm, and firm. They don’t swallow his cock quite like other pairs of tit’s might, but this is good in a whole new way. Keigo moans softly, lifting himself up some into his knees so he can fuck his hips a little faster. “Shit.”


Enji’s fingers press dimples into his ass, before he begins to urge his hips, gently guiding each movement. Keigo groans, pressing back into his hands for a moment before he presses Enji tight around his dick and works his hips faster into him. “That’s good.” He exhales hotly, his lashes fluttering as he peers down at Enji.


His face is flushed, brows furrowed, and lips parted. He looks pretty like that… Keigo can feel something heat flaring up inside, familiar and making his muscles tighten. “You don’t seem to hate this.” He points out, a cocky grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.


He gets a huff in response, and Enji lifts his hand from his ass, bringing it down to spank him. The loud clap makes Keigo flinch and moan, his hips stuttering. “I think you should worry about yourself, boy. Instead of running your mouth.” 


“God.” Keigo groans, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress his grin, fucking more hastily into Enji’s tits, “When you talk to me like that, it drives me wild…” He got a smile out of Enji from that, and a soft groan as Keigo’s thumb swipes back over his nipple. “You know I’m going to come all over these fucking tits, right?” Keigo continues on, babbling more than anything, but the talking is getting him closer to the edge. “ Hnnng .. fuck.. I’m going to come all over you, Todoroki-san…. G-Gonna..” His hips flatter for a moment, until he felt another hard slap and cries out in response. 


“You’re not going to get anything done, getting all desperate.” He points out, and squeezes the red flesh. Keigo laughs hotly, humming as he gives Enji’s pecs another hard squeeze before he cups them more firmly, pushing them tighter around his length. Enji isn’t wrong, but Keigo likes falling victim to his desperation. It satisfies something deep, and animalistic.


Keigo hums, watching his cock slide between Enji’s tits, seeing the slicked skin, and hair, how red they were getting from Keigo’s tight grip. “You didn’t argue against me blowing my load on you… I wonder if that means you want it.” He pants softly between his words, a grin plastered on his face.


Enji scoffs softly, “Or you’re just going to do what you want, because you’re a brat.” 


Maybe . Keigo might argue it was a sweet, wonderful mixture of both their points. But he lets him go, focusing on the way all the warmth of his body is polling in his balls, the way they're tightening, the way he’s teetering so close to that sweet, blissful edge. He throws his head back, fucking between them greedily, whining loudly with each roll of his lips. “Shit.. shit .” He curls forward, his cock twitching in warning. “Mmm.. baby.. I told you your tits were going to be so good for me.” He can hear a shaky inhale from Enji, but he doesn’t respond in any other way. Keigo groans, and fucks until his hips lock up entirely, and he spills his release over Enji’s chest, and his neck, ruining the sheets below them as well.


Keigo’s panting by the end of it, collapsing onto the bed beside Enji’s, his leg thrown over Enji’s as he sprawls out. “Oh, fuck.” He hums in a satisfying way, and a sweet smile makes its way onto his lips.


“You’re very…. vulgar.” Enji says softly, maybe a little restrained with heat laced over his words. 


“And you’re covered in my come now. Weird, huh?” Keigo laughs to himself, whining a moment later as Enji leans back from him, the now absent warmth a rude awakening for Keigo. He sits up, watching as Enji stands, groaning as come slides down his chest, and over his abs. Keigo tries not to lick his lips as he watches, “Where are you going? Cuddling is a requirement .”


Enji glances back at him, quirking a brow, a soft frown on his lips. “I’m covered in filth . I’m showering.”


Keigo perks up immediately, pushing himself to his knees as Enji starts to walk toward their bathroom. “See, now that I can help with that!!!” He scrambles forward, sliding off the bed to follow his less enthused lover—but by the look of the stiff length between Enji’s legs, his grouchiness is no more than an act. It’s not all that surprising to Keigo, but he always found his grumpiness cute anyway. 

Chapter Text



✯.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.✯


Osamu’s dreamless sleep was interrupted by a loud, panicked knocking that almost scared him into awareness. It was hectic, with no rhythm to it and Osamu debated just staying tucked in the warmth of his bed for a moment, before something in his gut told him he needed to answer that door.


It took quite a few knocks before Osamu finally abandoned his bed, and opened the down to grouchily look at the person invading his much needed sleep. Osamu’s exhaustion was written all over him. His slouched frame, his ruffled clothes, and the dark circles under his eyes; but seeing Atsumu shocked him for a moment. He had no clue that Atsumu was back, as far as he knew, he was going to be away for a while longer, there were no games in the area. And it really only took one good look at Atsumu to understand something was very wrong, and suddenly, Osamu’s struggle to sleep made sense.


There had been something tickling at the back of his neck, something that kept him tossing and turning. He felt like something was wrong, deep in his bones, and seeing the distraught look in Atsumu’s face confirmed why he was having those feelings. Atsumu looked… terrible. “What’re ya doin’ here so late, Tsumu? Everythin’ good?” He asked, stepping back from the doorway to let him inside.


Atsumu laughed bitterly, and stepped through the threshold. He toed his boots off as Osamu shut, and locked his door, glancing at Atsumu in his dark apartment. The only light on was the lamp in his living room. It cast a warm glow over everything, but there were still harsh shadows between both of them. “I guess I’m okay.” Atsumu murmured softly, dropping his bag on the floor before he turned toward Osamu. “Do ya have somethin’ I can borrow? I need a shower…”


Osamu raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest, “Every time ya say borrow, ya mean steal.” He murmured under his breath, walking through his living room and down the hall, Atsumu’s softer footsteps behind him. Osamu paused at his dresser, pulling it open to retrieve some shorts, and then a t-shirt, glancing over his shoulder at him. “I know ya don’t have a game anywhere ‘round here for a few weeks. So I’m wonderin’ why yer here.”


“Can’t a guy pay a visit to his sweet brother.” Atsumu joked lightly, and Osamu rolled his eyes with a soft scoff, turning toward him, holding out the clothes to him. As Atsumu reached forward, his hoodie sleeve pulled up, and Osamu glanced down. Even in the soft lighting of his bedroom, where the only glow came from the fairy lights over the canopy of his bed, Osamu saw them; harsh, red bruises that were hideous on Atsumu’s pale wrists. Osamu’s lips parted in shock, and Atsumu pulled his hand away without taking the clothes. “I wasn’t hurt, or nothin’.” He immediately said, Osamu frowning at him, watching Atsumu dodge his gaze, “I wasn’t… it was all consensual, yeah? I knew I’d get the bruises.”


Osamu sighed softly, gently setting the clothes on the dresser, reaching his hand out. He motioned for Atsumu’s hand, watching as he hesitantly held it out to him, and allowed him to look at it. Osamu pushed his sleeve up, and frowned. The bruising was harsh. Atsumu must have pulled hard on some restraints, ones that were likely done too tightly because whoever Atsumu’s partner was was far too inexperienced. “Tsumu…”


“It’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt that much.” Atsumu sounded sincere, but Osamu still gently ran his fingers over the spot. Felt the way Atsumu shuddered at the touch. “But… he didn’t really stick around. We kinda fucked, and he dipped.”


Osamu lifted his eyes to Atsumu, and the panic from before made sense now. Atsumu wasn’t hurt, not physically. But he was here for a reason… he needed Osamu to supply him something that his dominant hadn’t—the most basic rule of BDSM. Atsumu hadn’t gotten any aftercare. “Yer here because ya need me to clean up the mess that moron left behind, eh?” Osamu frowned at him, watching as Atsumu looked away from him, his bottom lip trembling, “Tsumu… when are ya going to learn…” He sighed softly, taking a step forward, eliminating the space between them as reached for Atsumu’s chin, forcing him to bring his eyes back to meet his, “No one, and I mean no one, is gonna care for ya like I can… yer wastin’ yer goddamn time on these losers. I’m always picking up the pieces they leave ya in.”


Atsumu looked ashamed of himself, his eyes shifting away to avoid Osamu’s hard gaze. He didn’t say anything at first, seemed to hesitate before he shyly met Osamu’s eyes again, “Yer not always there, Samu. It’s tough… bein’ apart like this.”


That one stung. Osamu knew he wasn’t being blamed for anything. He knew that distance between them was hard and unfavorable. He didn’t for a minute like the idea of Atsumu trusting himself in the hands of clueless strangers who couldn’t pay him an ounce of respect. “I know.” Osamu sighed softly, sliding his hand into Atsumu’s, squeezing his palm as Atsumu squeezed his. He intertwined their fingers, and Osamu gently cupped Atsumu’s cheek, watching as Atsumu nudged into his hand. He shut his eyes, and looked like he had his first moment of peace.


“How about before ya get shower we just lay back down for a while?” He suggested. He knew it was likely what Atsumu needed. Just a few moments of attention.  Besides, he really wanted to lay down again, and he couldn’t recall the last time he and Atsumu got to share a bed. Both of them were far too busy now. Maybe that was a good thing, and he shouldn’t keep coming back to this twisted relationship he developed with his brother. But needs were needs.


Atsumu didn’t put up any sort of argument, in fact, he was the one that dragged Osamu toward his bed. They pushed down the messy sheets, and crawled underneath the comforter where Atsumu plastered himself over his brother’s side, his arm wrapping around his waist, his head resting on his shoulder. “See? Ain’t that better?” 


“Much.” Atsumu sighed contently, pressing his face closer. Osamu leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, his hand gingerly rubbing soothing circles into his back. The only noise between them was their soft breathing, the shifting of Atsumu as he tried to get more comfortable. His leg sliding between Osamu’s, his arm curling against his own chest, redistributing the weight on his hip. He always was restless in bed, while Osamu just laid back like a brick. But right now, Atsumu was even more restless, probably due to the lack of aftercare.


“Yer never gonna get comfortable with all that shiftin’ ya’know.” Osamu warned him, and he couldn’t help but to smile when Atsumu clicked his tongue softly. Osamu twisted, facing Atsumu, close enough that their noses could brush. Atsumu was frowning at him, a slight pout on his lips, and his brows furrowed. He looked stupidly cute, but Osamu wouldn’t dare say that out loud. He reached out, petting the back of fingers over Atsumu’s cheek. Atsumu settled down, looking between Osamu’s eyes for a moment before he shifted forward, his hand smoothing up his brother’s chest before he brushed his lips over his.


It had been a long time since Osamu had been kissed. He was busy with work, relationships had been on the backburner for a long, long time. Atsumu’s lips were as soft as ever, though, and Osamu felt a shiver creep up his spine as he parted his lips for his. Atsumu was eager as he licked inside his mouth, his hand gently wrapping around Osamu’s neck. He didn’t squeeze, instead he left it there, almost possessively.


Osamu pushed his leg between Atsumu’s as he returned the kiss with more force, licking at the seam of Atsumu’s lips. He missed this. The warmth that only Atsumu could provide, the comfort that a twin soul could share with him. They were soulmates from birth, and nothing (no one) could come between them. He felt the quiver in Atsumu’s bottom lip, and he bit down on it, producing a sweet little whimper from him. Immediately after, Osamu leaned back, and wrapped his arms around Atsumu, pulling him closer as he completely broke down.


It might have felt sudden, but Osamu knew his brother like the back of his hand. He knew for Atsumu those emotions swelled until they popped, until they completely overwhelmed him, leaving him a complete mess. Atsumu was holding himself together the best he could, but crumbling was inevitable. Osamu was just glad he was here to catch him. He was glad Atsumu came to find him.


So much had changed in their lives, but at least they still needed each other. At least they still loved each other.


“Don’t snot all over me.” Osamu complained lightly, not really minding, but still unable to keep from teasing Atsumu.


“Too late.” He replied with a sniffle, burying his face into Osamu’s hoodie as if to make a point. “Sorry, Samu.” Osamu frowned, squeezing Atsumu tighter as he hiccuped, “I’m sorry I’m always comin’ here all fucked up. And that we don’t talk much anymore… I’m always actin’ shitty but still expectin’ a lot from you and ma.”


Osamu gently pet his fingers through Atsumu’s hair, shutting his eyes as he pressed a kiss to his temple. “Shut up, Tsumu.” He whispered into his hairline, pressing another kiss there. “I don’t care ‘bout that. I always want ya here… ‘specially if this kinda shits happenin’. I love ya, ‘kay? I’ll tell ya a secret.” Osamu leaned back some, resting his index finger under Atsumu’s chin, gently tilting it up so their eyes would meet. Atsumu’s face was wet, his eyes shining with leftover tears, and his bottom lip wobbling in the most overdramatic, adorable way. “I don’t mind takin’ care of ya. I just like pretendin’ yer a bother ‘cause ya get all worked up.”


Atsumu laughed, his hands fisting lightly in Osamu’s hoodie, pulling on the fabric. “I hate ya, Samu… yer so annoying.” He said fondly, tilting his head up to brush his lips back over his. Osamu didn’t waste any time responding. He wrapped his hand around Atsumu’s waist, and pulled him closer, until their bodies were flushed. Atsumu sighed against his lips, his mouth parting for Osamu who took immediate advantage of it. He sucked on Atsumu’s tongue, and tasted every inch of his warm, wet mouth. His gums, his teeth, the roof. Atsumu had a distinct, sweet taste which made a familiar warmth lick at his insides, firing him up, and sending arousal through his veins. Atsumu moaned softly, and it drove Osamu mad. Made him bite down on his bottom lip, pulling back playfully at it, panting against Atsumu’s mouth.


“I think..” He squeezed Atsumu’s hip to get his attention, all the oxygen leaving his lungs as Atsumu looked up at him; flushed with a hazy gloss over his gaze, “We should make this night right, yeah? Let me treat ya right .”


A dopey smile pulled at Atsumu’s lips as he pulled Osamu’s hoodie, bringing their lips back into each other, humming happily against Osamu’s mouth. “I think we could manage that.”


“Yeah?” Osamu whispered against him, a smile finding its own way on his lips.


“Yeah.” Atsumu confirmed, his hands smoothing up his chest to wrap around Osamu’s neck, “Only ‘cause yer best at pickin’ up my pieces or whatever ya said.” 


Osamu scoffed softly, chuckling as he shook his head, “Or whatever.” He mocked him lightly, pulling Atsumu into another warm kiss. His hands sliding lower, beneath the covers, greedy to touch every inch of Atsumu. To cover every mark and touch with his own, washing away whatever piece of shit thought they had the right to touch what wasn’t theirs.


Osamu would happily and eagerly remedy that. 

Chapter Text


hiya everybody! bosco here!


first off, thank you to those of you that even clicked this. i'm just going to rant here a minute. but first off - thanks to everyone who gave this kinktober a click. i did kinktober last year to challenge myself ( you can read that here ) and it was such a liberating, and challenging experience. i've always been more inclined to write smut, mostly because of insecurities about my writing... slow burn chapter fics are a dream, but i don't think i'm skill enough for that ahaha, but it is a goal to start to steer my writing in that direction!


unlike last year, this year I decided to mix up my kinktober, and write fics for different fandoms. i've written for BNHA before, but i've since deleted those fics because I didn't like them so much. and then I got into the BTS fandom in late 2017/early 2018 which rekindled my love for writing. I dedicated so much time and so many wonderful stories to them, and there's more to come! but it was absolutely wonderful to explore other ships and fandoms. JJK and Haikyuu!! hold a special place in my heart now, and getting to write those characters made me so very happy.


so what i'm trying to say is - even if you clicked this to read one ship - thanks so much! this really was so much fun, and the right amount of stress that kept me driven to complete it. it makes me happy if you even enjoyed one of these fics, it's unbelievable the support I've gotten on this, and it warms my heart.


I, like so many others, had a very rough year. I had commissions that i felt took me too long to do, because my life kept getting in the way. I still have some giveaway fics to complete, but I'm almost finished with that so I'm happy. These were the very first fics I got to write that were my own, and even though they're all just mindless smut it means a lot to me. So, I'm glad I could share them with people who also enjoyed them. That's why I write in the first place, those small little comforts.


this is getting wordy when it doesn't need to be. I just feel like I needed to get it out ahaha. I'm feeling very happy to finish this, and for 2021 to be done. i hope it's a better year for all of us. please stay safe everyone, be kind, and have a wonderful halloween.


if you want, you can follow me on twitter. i post a lot there: @uwubosco


thanks again everyone!