ranger danger // pollen fest!!!

ranger danger // pollen fest!!!



skts // nsfw virginity kink bottsumu kiyoomi isn't into atsumu until he watches him shiver when someone's hand lingers too long on the small of his back, until he's cornered in a crowded club and watches him swoon. until he connects the dots and realizes atsumu's a virgin.

it spins his thoughts into a frenzy, the idea that no one's touched the span of his ribs with intent, or kissed him wanting more, or felt his warmth from the inside out. kiyoomi wants to fuck the virgin out of him, shape atsumu into liking sex just the way he wants.

he gets his confirmation at an izakaya one night, when atsumu is just drunk enough to not know how dangerous this knowledge is. "really, tsum-tsum?" bokuto gasps, wide-eyed. "how?" kiyoomi snorts. atsumu's got volleyballs for brains and a complex about distractions.

of course he's a virgin. he's rewarded when atsumu flushes pink at the heated look kiyoomi gives him. if he hadn't split three bottles of soju with hinata he would strike that night, but alas. he wants to savor this one.

he gets his chance the next day. atsumu's doing a conditioning mask so he's stuck in the showers for longer than usual after practice, and kiyoomi lingers behind. waves off the rest of the team. he thinks inunaki connects the dots from the way he leers at him when he leaves.

maybe the rest of them want a taste of atsumu, too. kiyoomi's gonna be the first one to get it, though. "hey omi," atsumu says, towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp but soft, happy trail on his stomach leading down to a sweet gift. "looks like it's just the two of us."

kiyoomi's quiet while he starts to change, watches him slide underwear over his bare ass. atsumu's got no shame, but he wonders if that'll change once he's underneath him. he comes up behind him, close enough to smell his shampoo. "just us," he breathes onto atsumu's neck.

this close he feels atsumu's whole body still, like cornered prey. he lets his hand wrap around atsumu's ribs, rising and falling with controlled breaths, skin still wet and warm from the shower. he leans closer. "atsumu?" "yeah, omi?" it creeps out of his mouth like flame.

rubbing his thumb in slow, measured circles that mimic his breathing, kiyoomi strikes. "about last night. do you want to change that?" "ch-change what?" a stutter and a shiver are one and the same. "no one's touched you like this, right?" his hand slides down to his ass.

"no one's helped you feel good, right?" leans in to touch his lips to atsumu's neck. "made you scream," he murmurs. "omi," atsumu gulps, "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you wanted to fuck me." "I want to do more than fuck you, atsumu," he curls out.

atsumu's full body shakes, like his nerves are on fire from just kiyoomi's words and closeness. if he's this responsive, kiyoomi can't imagine what he'll be like in bed. "meet me in my room tonight, if you want." he says, and atsumu's forehead clangs against the locker.

he knows atsumu wants. he can feel it. kiyoomi's mouth waters. "don't touch yourself before then," he adds, ignoring atsumu's whine of "omi!" as he slips his mask back on. "i want to see you desperate." he leaves atsumu there, shaking in the locker room.

he watches from the door first, atsumu sitting on the bench and willing down his orgasm, before he actually goes back to the dorm. /good boy,/ he thinks. they're going to have fun tonight. //

a knock on his door comes that night, just like kiyoomi expects. "well," atsumu says, puffing up his chest in the t-shirt and basketball shorts he wears in the dorms, "i'm here- was there a dress code i missed?" kiyoomi could laugh. he's dressed up a little, sure.

an old button down, some nice pants. he's got wine if atsumu wants it. "we're saying goodbye to an old friend," kiyoomi says. "i thought i should dress for the occasion." atsumu narrows his eyes but steps into the room anyway. "you're bein' real weird about this, omi."

he watches atsumu slip off his shoes, take the glass kiyoomi offers, drink half of it like it steadies him and crinkles his nose. "i hate dry reds," he says, but finishes the glass anyway. atsumu likes sweet wines, but kiyoomi needs to balance out how sweet fucking him will be.

kiyoomi finishes his glass too, and slips into atsumu's space, pulls the glass out of his hands, and sets it down carefully on his desk. it's just kiyoomi's dorm room, it's just him and atsumu, but with the candles he's lit and the overhead lights off, it almost feels special.

he's a sucker for this; loves to watch a virgin crumble in his touch, see their hips twitch in pleasure as they discover what they like, loves to watch their eyes roll back as he slides into the. loves how big atsumu's pupils get when he cups his jaw.

"atsumu," he says, flicking his eyes down to his lips still red from the wine, "how far have you gone with someone else." loves how much they blush when he's direct, how atsumu squirms at his question. "answer me." he tightens his grip, just a little.

atsumu sighs. "not very far..." he mutters, then goes silent. kiyoomi even likes being helpful. "have you ever been kissed?" a nod. "have you made out with someone?" a pause, then a nod. "has anyone ever touched you here?" a hand on atsumu's chest, and a nod.

kiyoomi huffs, and leans closer. "under your clothes?" a hesitant pause, and then- "n-not like that." and /god/ it goes straight to kiyoomi's cock, the slight hesitance, how atsumu's voice goes high and reedy. he loves fucking virgins like this. he wants to turn them wild.

"good," he says, and then: "do you trust me to help you feel good, atsumu?" help, not make, because that's how kiyoomi frames it. helps them realize who they are; people who wanna get fucked, get touched, who love and crave sex just as much as him.

"omi..." atsumu gulps, like he can't believe a drunk admission got him here. "yeah. i trust ya." he brings up a hand hesitantly to dig into kiyoomi's waist. /cute/ he thinks. and smiles. then he sucks the taste of wine right out of atsumu's mouth.

he knows atsumu's kissed before but he wants to devour him, overpower him before atsumu can try to get the upper hand. pushes him against the wall so he can press their bodies together, feel his cock start chubbing up in his loose shorts, eager body all too ready to meet him.

both hands on his face, turning him this way and that so kiyoomi can bite his lips and suck on his tongue and even lick a broad stripe up his neck, just for fun, just for a taste. when he feels atsumu's hips start winding in circles, desperate for action on his cock, he grins.

he reaches down, stills his hips and swallows down atsumu's whine. "not yet, atsumu. you'll come when i want to, on my terms." he wants to teach him. he wants atsumu to learn. "omi, please-" "you trusted me," he says, and soothes the pressure with a soft kiss. "keep at it."

soon enough atsumu is kissing him lazily back, hands in kiyoomi's hair like he can't believe how soft the curls are, their hips a measured distance apart. every twitch of his hips against kiyoomi's grip feels like a win, atsumu's need. he whines into the kisses. gasps, too.

every sound a symphony to kiyoomi, and eventually the music is enough. he pulls back, and atsumu opens his eyes after a delay. "where'd ya go?" he asks, and his voice sounds so hazy with pleasure after just kissing that it makes kiyoomi giddy."

"it's time to make you feel good," kiyoomi says, manhandling atsumu over to the bed. "whaddya call all that, then?" atsumu's eyes are glued to kiyoomi's body as he strips naked. "that," he says, hovering over atsumu with his cock hanging heavy, "was just a taste."

he tugs off atsumu's shirt, and even though it's nothing he hasn't seen before it feels different in this context. he runs his fingers over his chest, passes over a puffy nipple. "i'm the first one to touch you like this," he says, and imagines the path leaving a mark behind.

like a map of atsumu's first time, kiyoomi's fingerprints across his chest forever. "y'are, omi," atsumu sighs out, rising into the touch. it's so cute. kiyoomi needs to taste. "aah-!" he gasp, as kiyoomi sucks up a nipple, hand tracing teasing circles around the other.

atsumu's sensitive here, and kiyoomi's the first person to know. he bites and tugs and teases until atsumu is writhing, chanting "please please please" even though he couldn't possibly be begging for something yet, and eventually he pulls off. looks at the pruney nub. flicks it.

atsumu's whole body deflates. "you're a menace." he sounds breathless. just from that! "oh, atsumu," he says, pulling off his shorts and underwear to look at the cock that been left hanging for hours, "you don't know the half of it."

"have you ever fingered yourself?" he asks, still staring at atsumu's ass. there's a snort above him. "you're so blunt." kiyoomi shrugs. his reputation isn't unearned. "you didn't answer the question." atsumu sighs. "i have. i'm not completely out of touch." kiyoomi grins.

"i'll make it feel like you've never touched yourself before," he says, petting his thigh and reaching for lube. "what does that mean, omi?" atsumu asks, but kiyoomi's too busy circling his rim, hoisting thick thighs above Kiyoomi's shoulders, pressing a finger to his entrance.

"what do you-/oh!/" kiyoomi likes fingering, too. taking his time making someone loose and calm and ready for him, feeling him from the inside out so he knows what awaits him later. he stares at atsumu, at his abs contract and feels his thighs tighten when he does good.

the thing he's discovered about virgins is that they don't know how to be self conscious in bed, yet. atsumu's loud and honest, and he yelps when kiyoomi does something he likes and grimaces when it's not good. he doesn't pretend to like anything. doesn't lie. he's just honest.

kiyoomi appreciates honesty. kiyoomi also appreciates - "shit god fuck /omi!/" - the taste of atsumu's untouched ass as he licks between the fingers pumping in and out of his hole. sucks on the rim to feel atsumu squirm, his heels dig into his back, and -

feel atsumu tense up, all at once, and yell, his ass contracting around kiyoomi's hands and something wet landing on his head and - he pulls out with a wet sound. "did you come?" he asks, and atsumu laughs.

he's covered in sweat, he's panting heavily, and there's a mess on his stomach. "did you touch yourself?" atsumu shakes his head. "you said not to." that was hours ago. his mouth goes dry. "did you know," he gulps, "that you could come untouched?"

hesitance again, and then atsumu shakes his head. "not till now," and god that's what this is all about. it's less about the taking and more about the knowledge he can wring out of a body, atsumu's body. what he can help someone learn. what he can leave behind.

"do you want to learn more?" they could stop now, and kiyoomi could memorize his taste and fuck himself dry on it for days. but he wants to keep going, and he kneels up, hand on atsumu's thigh, hoping he wants to, as well. bless him. atsumu nods. kiyoomi licks his lips.

after he's come, atsumu is sweet and pliant. kiyoomi settles himself between his legs, slides himself home, the path slick with lube and his spit. when he leans forward, hips grinding into atsumu at that slow and measured pace he discovered he likes while he fingered him +

atsumu surprises him. he digs his fingers into kiyoomi's back with strength he didn't know he had, pulls his head down too, wraps his legs around him. "harder, omi, s'too much like this." slow and measured is too much? "as you wish," kiyoomi murmura, and snaps his hips back.

fucking into atsumu like this, the wet squelch of the mess between them, the cum on his abs slipping between their bodies, feels so greedy. like he's getting more than he should. atsumu's huffing below him, overstimulated with his cock slowly regaining sensation.

kiyoomi, meanwhile, delights in the way atsumu stretches around his cock, how warm he is, how much it feels like he's shaping atsumu. he wonders if atsumu will compare every cock after him to Kiyoomi's. it makes him want to fuck him harder.

"I can't believe no one's fucked you like this," kiyoomi coos (coos!) into atsumu's ear, brushing some of his hair back. there's so much sweat. his heart is pounding. he feels alive. "have you been waiting for me, sweet thing?"

atsumu's hands dig deeper and he clutches kiyoomi harder. "wanted you, waiting for you," he gasps out as kiyoomi rocks into him, keeping up that brutal pace till atsumu says otherwise. he can feel it, how close he is, like his own orgasm is a few more sweet firsts away.

"c'mon, atsumu," he growls into his lips, "come again, i know you can do it." and then he kisses atsumu again so there's no space for words, only atsumu overwhelmed by kiyoomi and his body, so the only thing atsumu can think about is coming.

all he can imagine is pleasure, from the way kiyoomi's cock keeps him wide to how his tongue reaches deep in his mouth to suck out his breaths, so atsumu can focus. so kiyoomi can be the first person to make atsumu come around his cock, too.

so no one else can teach him he likes it. he's rewarded again when atsumu yells and clenches around his cock, a little weaker this time, and he feels more cum between them, and then kiyoomi's mind goes a little blank.

maybe he should be forgiven, because atsumu feels so sweet, rich and velvety around him. because atsumu's orgasm in his mouth resounds like victory. because his neck is a safe place for kiyoomi to tuck his head into as he comes, the first to splash atsumu's walls with cum.

they're still together when he comes to, and kiyoomi slides out with a hiss. "so," he says eventually, stretching up to grab something, anything to clean them up before his sheets stain, or worse. it's a quirk. he lives with it. "how was your first time?"

atsumu blinks at him, and maybe it's post-nut clarity or maybe it's the weird prescience that makes him understand his hitters on and off the court, because there's something happening in his eyes. something devious. he doesn't answer kiyoomi's question.

"i bet i still have a lot of firsts left, omi," he says, voice wrecked, half-lidded eyes watching kiyoomi's cock twitch in the aftermath. "bet there's still more left to teach me." maybe kiyoomi's bitten off a little more than he can chew. maybe atsumu's a perfect fit.

regardless- "i expect a full report when we're done, atsumu," kiyoomi growls back at him, already heading back towards the bed. "it'll be my special project," he winks. the night is young, apparently. // fin lmao.

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