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kermiomi · 10 months

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nsfw | sakuatsu | autofellatio | voyerism / exhibitionism | sub / dom undertones

atsumu was always a little aware of kiyoomi's flexibility, however he wasn't fully aware to the extent of just /how/ flexible he truly was, or it's potential. until now, that is.

they had been dating for not too long when they started getting more intimate. it was maybe a couple months after kiyoomi first joined msby, and then another couple months into seeing each other when they finally couldn't keep their hands to themselves any longer.

it should have been a fairly awkward first time together, but a little liquid courage made it one of the best firsts either had ever had.

tipsy and bold, the sex was so good that both of them knew they were probably going to be hooked for life. whether or not they would admit that at this point in their relationship though is still up for debate.

so, even though they haven't quite gotten to the 'i love you' stage of their dating adventure, atsumu very much loves his tall, bendy boyfriend.

kiyoomi's wrists are soft and pliable, his legs thick and articulate, and his spine almost like a fluid reed at times. it isn't until a good bit into their sexual explorations would kiyoomi bring up /how/ he would sometimes pleasure himself when alone.

atsumu hadn't even realize the potential of his boyfriend's flexibility until one early

saturday conversation.

"yeah, i've sucked myself off before."

kiyoomi didn't look up from stirring milk into his tea, but he could feel atsumu's wide eyes burning into the side of his head.

it was so casual atsumu almost didn't register what kiyoomi actually said.

"you…

kiyoomi was now beginning to think he's going to regret his confession. he looks up from his mug and atsumu's eyes are intensely dark, his face and neck overcome by a deep flush.

every person who happens to have a dick has tried to, or at the very least thought about it before. this certainly includes atsumu himself, though the attempt left him with a bruised ribcage and ego.

and now here before him was the love of his life in his kitchen casually admitting to be living one of his ultimate fantasies.

atsumu's breathing picks up and he moves forward to place a hand on the table next to kiyoomi's tea. his veins bulge and muscles tense up as he leans down to look closer into his boyfriend's eyes. a small blush blooms high on kiyoomi's cheeks.

he cranes his neck a little to look up at atsumu. his mind was racing with filthy visons and kiyoomi could see it in his gaze. the breath against kiyoomi's lips is hot and heavy.

'show me. please."

kiyoomi feels like he might not regret this after all.

///

"sit there," kiyoomi gestures vaguely to an upholstered arm chair. it faces towards the side of the bed, placed with intention. kiyoomi looks over to his golden boyfriend and smirks,

"and for a little fun, no touching yourself until i come, hm?" what a fucking menace.

atsumu obediently sits; still fully clothed in nice black jeans and a loose plain shirt. nothing fancy is really needed anyway. kiyoomi however strips out of his clothes fairly efficiently; all until his boxer briefs are so slowly pulled away from his long legs and atsumu flushes. kiyoomi's cock is long and rosy pink, and it suddenly feels all too real. this is really happening.

atsumu is looking at his boyfriend with new eyes and he can finally see how this might be possible. with a cutting side glace from kiyoomi, atsumu is very quickly becoming /very/ hard in his pants. kiyoomi flushes and looks away. god his boyfriend is pretty.

kivoomi kneels onto the bed and moves forward until he's facing the wooden headboard. he lays back and pulls his legs up above his chest with his hands against the back of his thighs keeping him up.

awkwardly scooting forward a little using his strong arm and back muscles, kiyoomi settles on his upper back, shoulder blades cutting into the bed. the back of his hips rest against the cool, flat headboard and his pretty cock head is kissing the skin of his torso just above the navel.

his strong, muscular stomach looks delicate and soft as it folds into itself, layers of flesh and fat giving way to lower his hips closer to his face.

a push of his hips forward and his cock bobs above his face, a breath away from his lips and usually where most flexible people would have already reached their limit. but atsumu's beautiful, bendable boyfried takes a deep breath in... then out...

relaxing his muscles further and using his stupid, sexy flexable hands to put more pressure against the back of his thighs.

atsumu holds his breath as he watches, knuckles turning white against his thighs.

the dewy tip kisses his bottom lip, then pulls away just a hair. precum keeps him connected to himself by a thread, but it is broken when kiyoomi pulls his cock back down to his mouth again.

his soft, wet lips engulf the rosy tip, licking against himself with short pets of his tongue. atsumu can't hold back his raspy breath,

"fuck, omi."

his dick is so hard it starts to feel good pressed up into his pants.

it's only a little, no more than two or three inches into his mouth, but it's more than enough to get kiyoomi worked up. a small blush pinkens his cheeks and chest as he takes a deep breath of his own musky scent.

kiyoomi lets out a short whine, muffled by his own cock on his tongue. it's as if he is slowly drowning himself into submission.

taking away one hand from his thighs, kiyoomi slowly strokes the shaft of his cock, giving needed stimulation to what he can't pull into his mouth.

atsumu echos his groans. neither of them really know how he's managed to stay still in the chair as long as he has. kiyoomi drags his hand lower on himself to massage and softly pull his balls as he continues to suckle himself into his warm his skin tastes clean, he notes; if not a little bitter and salty.

atsumu feels like he hasn't taken a breath in hours, eyes unable to move from kiyoomi's body, his lips, the shiny head of his cock against his own tongue.

kiyoomi's hips jolt, pushing himself another inch into his mouth and his whine makes atsumu leak a little into his boxers.

"fuck omi yer so hot."

atsumu's rough voice makes lightning crackle up kiyoomi's spine and his own whimpers gently vibrate against his skin, only helping to further push himself towards orgasm. his cock feels hot in his own mouth. his mouth feels so, so soft around his own cock.

it's so different when there is someone else watching him. all of his senses feel heightened, almost painful. but it still feels all too good to stop

his hips jolt again and the muscles in his abs tighten. he can feel it coming already.

he releases himself from his mouth with a small whine, bringing his hand back around his cock to quickly stroke himself right up to the edge.

his thighs are twitching, hips bucking down into his hand as atsumu watches sweat run down his temples to his dark curls. between pants and moans, atsumu can hear sighs of his name from kiyoomi's messy mouth.

"fuck- atsu, atsu astuatsu-" his belly tightens, abdomen rippling, balls drawing tight. cum beads up from the slit and finally spills over to drip down into his mouth. a ragged moan is ripped from his lungs, and savory, lucid cream pools onto his pink tongue as the muscle hangs limply from his parted lips.

heavy, wet breaths and hips that just wont stop fucking into his hand make his aim falter a little. some of it catches on his chin, slowly dripping down his neck to his collarbones. a small bit goes too far and splatters thick threads high onto his flushed cheeks.

as his high wanes, kiyoomi's mouth is thoroughly covered in his own cum. he lays in his afterglow prettily, displayed like a violent painting of lust.

atsumu can't fucking take it. his hard cock cuts against the seam of his jeans too deliciously.

as kiyoomi spills onto himself, atsumu gives in and presses his rough, burning hand over his hard on. with a few firm strokes against himself, he's spilling an embarrassing amount of cum into his underwear.

he lets out an animalistic groan that kiyoomi responds to with his own soft whine. atsumu's body is flushed warm from his belly to his face. his release seeps through his pants. a deep warm smudge, fully visible and shameless in his lap if kiyoomi were to look up for a second.

but kiyoomi is a little too preoccupied making a mess of himself to notice.

as the last threads of cum drip from his slit kiyoomi brings his tip back into his mouth, sucking the last of his release down his wet throat with many consecutive, little swallows.

he doesn't move his lips away from his burning red cock for a while, continuing to lick and tease his tip well past whimpering and gasping overstimulation. atsumu can't believe he is lucky enough to witness his boyfriend milking himself of every drop like a dying man.

he could probably die happy right about now.

finally, kiyoomi lets go of himself with a sharp whiny inhale that devolves into breathy moans as he lets himself fill his lungs with the cool air of the bedroom. they both don't move from where they sit for a while, just trying to catch their breath enough to see straight again.

atsumu moves from his seat for the first time since he was ordered into it. he crawls forward onto the duvet and leans down, breath tickling the curls lying against kiyoomi's forehead.

looking back up at him, albeit still upside down and his lower back against the headboard, kiyoomi suddenly feels a rush of embarrassment that twists his gut.

atsumu either pretends not to notice or truly doesn't care, and leans in to press wet kisses to kiyoomi's mouth, tasting him from his own lips. his tongue is ravenous, licking deeply into kiyoomi until he just might pass out from a lack of sufficient air.

when atsumu releases him, kiyoomi is a little cross eyed as he tries to focus his vision on atsumu's face. they both just breathe in each other for a moment.

"fuck yer so pretty."

"god, i love you

the heavy, warm air between them is silent for a beat.

"huh?!?!?"

"if you missed it the first time you're out of luck, i'm not going to say it again.

"nuh uh, no way did ya just beat me to the first 'i love you'!"

"do you have to turn everything into a competition???"

"with you babe? always.”

"and i really love you too."

"mm, good."

"now, teach me how to do that too!"

"never."

#sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu #sakuatsu #thread fic #fanfic #voyerurism #mild exhibitionism #drabble #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #hq fanfic #hq smut #skts

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yukittywrites · 1 year

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Closets After Concerts~

Did I forget I had a tumblr?? Who knows????

warnings// top san, bottom seonghwa, choking, exhibitionism (?),

800 words, sanhwa, 3rd Person POV

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After their concerts, San is always filled with adrenaline. He lives on a high while he's on the stage, soaring in the clouds. After, it's hard to bring him back down.

As the members often laugh about, he ends up hard on stage from his adrenaline quite often, and the stylists arent the greatest at hiding it when he is. Just like how they fail to hide Yunho and Yeosang as well.

Regardless, the easiest way to bring his adrenaline level back down and rid himself of his erection at the same time is by having sex.

So after their most recent concert, San grabs the hand of his prettiest hyung, Seonghwa, into one of their dressing closets, eager to get all of his remaining energy out somehow.

As he pins Seonghwa against the wall, he wraps his fingers around his throat. With the other he frantically begins unbuttoning their shirts, their coats abandoned before they even made it into the closet, yanking them off at a rapid pace. Beyond eager to have Seonghwa screaming under his touch.

Seonghwa hisses beneath his breath, in between his gasps for air, that it's probably not smart for them to fuck in here, but they both know that Seonghwa's just as eager as he is.

So, Sannie ignores him with ease, tugging off the remaining pieces of their clothes and fucking Seonghwa open on his fingers, listening to his pretty gasps with every moment as he covers Seonghwa's mouth with his hand.

He gets the job done quickly, getting three fingers in Seonghwa in record time, and after a while, Seonghwa lacks the energy to try and keep quiet.

Each little quirk of his fingers, pressing onto Seonghwa's prostate, has little whines being pushed out of Seonghwa's mouth, until his cock is hard and dripping onto the floor.

As Seonghwa keeps gasping, whimpering endlessly into his hand he tried to keep quiet with, it begins to fail, and he gets louder.

Seonghwa's post concert high has always faded before San's does.

When he finally pushes in, San groans open-mouthed into Seonghwa's neck, and Seonghwa himself mewls, his back arching against the wall.

By the time he bottoms out, Seonghwa is moaning into his hand, his chest heaving, and when he starts thrusting, Seonghwa's moans only get louder with each one.

Every press hits Seonghwa's prostate with ease, a skill that San's perfected after they've fucked so many times, and he uses it to his advantage.

San removes his hand, the only thing muffling Seonghwa's whiny moans, to grip onto Seonghwa's waist instead, leaving Seonghwa to either grip the wall to keep standing or have his legs give out and cover his mouth.

He ends up grabbing the wall, and pleasure slowly overcomes each one of his senses as San fucks him like a wild animal. The sound of their sweaty skin slapping together is vulgar, almost as much as Seonghwa's moans are, and he knows that there's no way anyone doesn't know what they're doing here.

His voice is sore from performing at the concert, yet that doesn't stop him from moaning like a pornstar as San ramps up his thrusts to an impossible speed, his legs shaking beneath him as his eyes start to close, his moans pitching higher and higher.

When Seonghwa finally orgasms, he almost screams, his eyes rolling back, and San groans against his skin as he cums inside.

Their post concert fuck in the closet brings San's energy level back down to his baseline, yet it depleted Seonghwa's energy into the negatives, and the moment that San lets him go his legs buckle in and he collapses on the floor.

His limbs refuse to cooperate with him as he lays there, and San has to help him get his clothes back on. The closet reeks of sex when they finally leave the closet, and the rest of the members, who took their makeup off in the amount of time it took them to fuck, glare at them annoyedly.

A single glance towards their crotches is a clear explanation, the obscene sounds of them fucking leaving them hard.

And San knows that he doesn't look that bad, or at least not any moreso than he did once he stepped off stage, but Seonghwa is a different story.

It's a testament to just how worked up he is after a concert that he can leave their hyung like this; his voice absolutely shot, hair sticking up madly in every direction, flushed cheeks, wobbly legs and a limp.

His complexion gives away, without a single doubt, what they were doing...that is, if it wasn't obvious by the squeals that Seonghwa made as he was railed into the next dimension...

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#sub!ateez #dom!ateez #dom!san #sub!seonghwa #top!san #bottom!seonghwa #kpop bxb #ateez smut #sub!idol #sub!kpop #choi san #park seonghwa #dom!idol #mild exhibitionism #ateez

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