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bottom iwaizumi one-shots because i can

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Anyone who shared a class with Iwaizumi and Oikawa could tell you two things about the two: they hated one another, and the sexual tension between them was intense.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa have been butting heads since day one. Iwaizumi thought Oikawa was self-centered, too flirtatious for his own good, and the most annoying person on the planet; and Oikawa thought Iwaizumi was a brute, didn’t think things through, and aggressive. They argued every chance they got, and their classmates got used to it, and they’ve all noticed that the more the two men argue, the thicker the sexual tension gets.

“You two would make amazing hate sex,” Iwaizumi’s friend Matsukawa said one afternoon when Iwaizumi showed up to their apartment just to complain about the brunet, “like, sweaty, brutal hate sex.”

To that, Iwaizumi stole all of Matsukawa’s oranges - their favorite fruits - just to be petty. Unbeknownst to Iwaizumi, Oikawa has had the exact same conversation with his friend Hanamaki on multiple occasions, and, unlike Iwaizumi, Oikawa can’t help but agree.

“I would destroy him,” Oikawa told Hanamaki one morning when the two were walking to campus, “fuck that tiny, tiny brain right out of his skull.” Hanamaki had hummed and nodded his head in agreement. “Not that I’m ever gonna.”

“Suuuure.”

No one could forget the deafening silence that filled the classroom when the teacher assigned Iwaizumi and Oikawa to work on a project together. Both men had looked absolutely mortified with the announcement. For the first time in months, they were both quiet throughout the entire class.

The two hung back until the classroom was empty (neither noticed at least half the class peaking through the windows) before approaching one another.

Through gritted teeth, Oikawa held out his phone. “Here. Put your number in.”

One of Iwaizumi’s eyes was twitching. “How about we rent a private room in the library, and just finish the project in one day?”

“I’m surprised your projects turn out so well with a strategy like that, Iwa-chan - “ Iwaizumi clenched his fists at the nickname Oikawa gave him for the sole purpose of annoying him, “I may dislike your presence, but I’m not going to risk my perfect grades just to get away from you.”

“How mature,” Iwaizumi hissed. He snatched Oikawa’s phone and pressed his number with just a little too much force. “Delete that when this stupid project is over.”

“Obviously.”

Distracted by their anger, Iwaizumi and Oikawa only now realized how close they were. Oikawa was towering over the shorter male as Iwaizumi stared up at him with a sneer. When they realized their position, they both dropped their attention to each other’s parted lips.

Iwaizumi was the first one to walk away, cheek a dusty pink and jaw clenched.

-

Iwaizumi H.: I rented a private room in the library so we can go over our notes. 4 PM. If you’re ten minutes late, I’ll lock the door and won’t let you in no matter how much you beg.

Oikawa: I don’t beg.

Iwaizumi H.: Whatever.

-

The first thirty minutes of going over notes were tense but civil. Neither would say it aloud, but they had amazing notes. Oikawa liked how Iwaizumi printed out pages from the textbooks with his own little notes, as well as the way his other notes matched the professor’s words almost perfectly; and Iwaizumi appreciated how organized Oikawa’s handwriting was, and how he color-coded.

The argument started when they tried to figure out who would be in charge of editing the presentation. Iwaizumi didn’t trust Oikawa to make the slides modest or not condescending, and Oikawa didn’t trust Iwaizumi to catch all spelling mistakes (he had read one of Iwaizumi’s essays and couldn’t help but notice the couple spelling mistakes).

“It’d be more embarrassing to have spelling mistakes than some flashy slides!” Oikawa argued. “Are you worried that people will realize I’m far more presentable than you?!”

Iwaizumi grabbed the collar of Oikawa’s shirt and pulled him over the table. “Unlike you, I don’t want people thinking I’m a douchebag with a pretty face!”

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” Oikawa teased with a smirk that made Iwaizumi’s head and dick throb. God damn, Oikawa and his brilliant good looks. “How bold of you, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa even closer, forcing the brunette to support himself on his arms alone. “Will you ever shut the fuck up?!”

“Fucking make me!”

The dam broke. Oikawa flung himself over the table, throwing Iwaizumi against the wall as they made out aggressively. It was hardly kissing - more biting and trying to seize the lead. Iwaizumi, to his surprise, was losing big time.

Oikawa held Iwaizumi’s hips in a deathlock while he ruined Oikawa’s soft, soft brown hair with his hands. Oikawa groaned into Iwaizumi’s mouth when he pulled their hips together, rolling his hips to get friction.

Separating for air, Iwaizumi snarled between heavy breaths, “You’re still the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Someone really needs to shut you up,” Oikawa growled. He moved his hands up to Iwaizumi’s shoulders. With strength that Iwaizumi didn’t know he had, Oikawa slammed Iwaizumi down onto his knees.

“If you think I’m gonna suck your dick, you’re more of an idiot than I expected.”

“Oh, please,” Oikawa laughed, “brats like you love a good cock down their throat.”

For the second time that day, Iwaizumi was speechless. He didn’t expect such dominance from Oikawa. The man looked like a top - how could he not? He was captain of the volleyball team - but his whiny voice and tendency to pout made Iwaizumi assume Oikawa was used to being on the bottom.

Even worse, Oikawa was right. Iwaizumi wouldn’t go as far as to call himself a slut, but when he got in the mood, he was quite the submissive man. It wasn’t something he would ever admit, much less to Oikawa, but he couldn’t ignore how hard he was in his pants.

“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi snapped. He took the zipper of Oikawa’s pants between his teeth and pulled it down, then he used his tongue to pop the button. Oikawa pulled his pants down himself but left Iwaizumi to remove his boxers.

Iwaizumi glared up at Oikawa as he ripped his boxers off. His angered expression turned shocked when Oikawa’s cock slapped him in the face. Oikawa was . . . well . . . he was hung. Just above average in girth but so very long.

Suddenly, Iwaizumi felt a smack on his face. He hadn’t realized he was staring, and Oikawa decided the best way to pull him into reality was slapping him in the face with his dick .

“I will bite your dick off.”

“Then how will I fuck you?”

Blushing furiously, Iwaizumi snarled, “If anyone is doing the fucking, it’s me.”

A lie. Despite what girls and some boys thought, Iwaizumi was anything but packing. Once again, something he would never tell Oikawa. Fake it till you make it (more specifically: pretend your dick isn’t four inches for as long as you can).

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that. Open your mouth, I’m gonna fuck your throat.”

“Excuse m-MFPH!” Iwaizumi gasped around Oikawa’s cock. The brunette ran his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair before holding the locks tightly. He rolled his hips shallowly until Iwaizumi’s face was pressed against his groin.

The shorter male was breathing through his nose, eyes watering, and throat clenching around Oikawa’s length. Oikawa gave Iwaizumi only a few seconds before he started thrusting in and out of his mouth, creating a wet squelching sound that would be disgusting in any other context.

‘Shit, it feels so good,’ Iwaizumi thought bitterly. His hands snapped up to hold Oikawa’s thighs, burying his nails into the thick muscles. His eyebrow twitched a bit when he realized how hard he was. ‘I need to touch myself. Fuck, if I take my pants off . . . ‘

Iwaizumi came back to his senses when he choked on the cum filling his throat. He coughed around Oikawa’s cock, spluttering and coughing when the brunette slipped his member out of his mouth.

The second Iwaizumi gulped down the slightly bitter liquid, he gasped, “Fuck you.”

“Oh, please.” Oikawa rolled his eyes, stroking Iwaizumi’s cheek. The touch was so tender that Iwaizumi couldn’t stop himself from leaning into it. The tenderness didn’t last long, and before Iwaizumi knew it, he was smacked across the face

Iwaizumi was too ashamed of the moan he made to care about the blow. 

Oikawa smirked. “Stand up.”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Iwaizumi stood up. The second he was balanced, Oikawa grabbed him by the thighs and hoisted him up. Iwaizumi gasped and wrapped his legs around Oikawa’s hips.

Oikawa kicked off his pants and boxers before walking towards the table. He slammed Iwaizumi down onto the table. “Fuck you,” Iwaizumi snarled, ignoring the pain in his ass in favor of biting harshly into Oikawa’s neck. 

He watched as Oikawa removed his shirt, revealing the toned product of Oikawa’s volleyball career, and Iwaizumi followed.

The shorter male hissed between his teeth when Oikawa popped the button of his jeans, and his hands got sweaty when the brunette pulled down the zipper. Just before Oikawa could start pulling his pants and briefs off, Iwaizumi grabbed his wrists.

Oikawa snapped his attention up, eyebrows raised.

“Do-don’t laugh at me.”

There was a pregnant pause. Then Oikawa tore Iwaizumi’s bottoms off, dropping them onto the floor. Iwaizumi squirmed. He felt like a tiny animal being stalked by a hawk underneath Oikawa’s gaze.

A long, pale finger moved up his cock, coming to the tip fairly fast. “M’not gonna laugh,” Oikawa chuckled, moving his hand away from Iwaizumi’s cock so he could press his fingers against his lips, “get my fingers wet.”

Wordlessly, Iwaizumi parted his lips, welcoming Oikawa shoving three of his fingers into his mouth. He sucked and licked between the digits, holding eye contact with Oikawa as he covered his fingers in saliva, and it was doing wonders of the taller man.

“Shit.” Oikawa pumped his fingers in and out of Iwaizumi’s mouth. “How many cocks have you taken in this dirty mouth?” 

Iwaizumi pulled off Oikawa’s fingers with a pop and glared at the brunette. “You suck.”

“But you swallow.”

The shorter male ground his teeth. “What kind of playground comeback is that?”

Okawa shrugged. Then he pushed Iwaizumi down onto his back, slamming his hands down at each side of Iwaizumi’s head. He hovered over the shocked male with a devious smirk.

Oikawa raised his hand. His fingers were miraculously still dripping with saliva. Iwaizumi didn’t have much time to stare at the shiny digits, because they moved down to Iwaizumi’s hole.

Iwaizumi squirmed around as Oikawa teased him. “Hurry the fuck u-aaah!” His back arched off the table as Oikawa finger-fucked with, going straight in with three fingers. It burned, but it felt so, so good. What can he say? He’s a masochist.

The brunette truly had the fingers of a setter. Long, flexible, and skilled. He spread Iwaizumi open naturally, finding his most sensitive spots with ease, and when his fingertips brushed Iwaizumi’s prostate, he stroked it in quick circles.

“I’m-I’m gonna - gonna cum!” Iwaizumi yelped. He spread his legs a bit more, driving Oikawa’s fingers hard onto his prostate, which was the final blow. Streaks of white painted Iwaizumi’s clenching abdomen.

If you told Iwaizumi that morning that he would willingly let Oikawa Tooru finger him to orgasm, he would’ve punched you in the face, but here he was, lying on a library table, panting heavily, mind already fuzzy from the intensity of his orgasm.

Once again, Iwaizumi came back into reality thanks to Oikawa’s cock. The thick head pushed through his hold with a little bit of resistance, but the second it slipped inside, Oikawa could slide inside Iwaizumi with relative ease.

God, he was so long. Tears brimmed in the corners of Iwaizumi’s eyes as he gripped for something. He heard paper crinkling underneath his grasp, but his mind was too muddled from the cock filling him up. Every time he thought Oikawa was done, he would just push in more.

By the time Oikawa was balls deep into him, Iwaizumi was gasping with tears rolling down his face. There was a bulge in his stomach from the sheer length of the cock filling him, and Oikawa gave him no time to adjust to it.

Iwaizumi couldn’t remember the last time he screamed during sex. He wasn’t a screamer, he really wasn’t. A moaner at best, and a gasper at worst. The last person who made Iwaizumi feel half as good as Oikawa was right now, was a teammate from high school - Kyoutani.

Half as good , may I remind you.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Ffff-fucking-fuck!” Iwaizumi screamed. His legs were wrapped around Oikawa’s hips as the taller man pounded into him, moving so hard that Iwaizumi was moving back and forth on the table. His nails dug into pale skin, moving down and covering Oikawa’s broad back in red marks. “Shit, Oikawa, don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Either Oikawa was usually this quiet during sex, or he was completely lost in pleasure. Iwaizumi assumed it was the ladder because the brunette was pushing Iwaizumi into a mating press, pressing him against the table as much as he could.

Iwaizumi’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, mouth falling open and tongue lolling out. The room was filled with the slapping of their skin and Iwaizumi’s screams. Thank god the room was soundproof.

Suddenly, Oikawa pushed himself up, staring at Iwaizumi as he picked up the pace. Iwaizumi sobbed out, back arching and hips instinctively moving down to chase his impending orgasm.

“Fuck,” Oikawa spoke for the first time in fifteen minutes, “I’m gonna cum. Should I pull - “

“Cum inside!” Iwaizumi yelped. “Shit! Cum inside, I don’t care!”

Oikawa sat up as best as he could, grabbing Iwaizumi by the hips so he could slam him onto his cock, body shaking as he filled Iwaizumi with cum. With a gasp, Iwaizumi came so hard some of the white liquid hit his chin.

After a couple of minutes, Oikawa pulled his soft cock out of Iwaizumi, instantly covering the table in his cum. Iwaizumi’s eyes were closed as he tried to get his senses back. Once he had some sense, Iwaizumi released the paper in his hands, which he had torn.

“You ruined our fucking notes.”

Oikawa blinked, eyes wide, then narrowed them with a frown.

Iwaizumi gasped as he was flipped onto his stomach, legs hanging from the table with two hands spreading him open. Oikawa slammed back into him. “Ruined the notes?” Oikawa laughed. “By the time I’m finished with you, you won’t care about some notes.”

They didn’t finish the project in one day. Or in two days. Or in three. 

For the first time in years, Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru finished a project at the last minute.