#🔲.vaginal

[hardkuna]

asmr

› 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 

› 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚍𝚘𝚖/𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜. 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔. 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.  𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊 𝚊𝚜𝚖𝚛 𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚘.

› 𝟸𝟼𝟻𝟸 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

You’ve always had a fascination with sounds and movements. The gentle rustle of a bag being rummaged through often sent a delicate sensation over your scalp, for example. The sensation was similar to fingers ghostling along your hairline, trailing down the back of your neck and continuing down your spine. If the sound or motion were specific enough, goose flesh would prickle your skin in its wake. With it came serenity - a peacefulness that helped lull you into sleep.

Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, or ASMR, is what it was called.

There were, however, some sounds that sent your nerves into a short circuit. Sometimes hearing them would break any attention you’ve devoted to another task, making your thighs squish together ever so slightly. You would be lying if you said you didn’t fantasize while listening to the gentle hush of whispers or the light clicks of a tongue over saliva. The sharp trickle of consonants commanded a strum within you in ways you couldn’t fully explain. You’ve tried with previous lovers, asking to wear headphones and lose yourself in a soundscape, but would come to no avail. Many didn’t understand the interest in the first place, let alone sexually.

That was until you met Sakusa.

(Like yourself, he was one to binge video after video of audio, especially while in a crowded space. He didn’t get the same physical response but it did calm him down and distract him in the ways that only ambient, repetitive noise could.)

There were many nights where you’d lay in bed with headphones in and that particular sound would wrap warm tendrils along your senses. The caress on your spine made your muscles twitch with each subtle click. Sakusa often felt the gentle sway of your hips as you rubbed your legs together in a feeble attempt to rid yourself of the ache between them. Or he took note of the way you take shallow, shaking breaths, struggling to keep your lungs in control. A dry swallow peppered here and there confirmed his suspicions.

One night, Sakusa decided to find out just what was on your phone to make you so aroused. As he reached over you, nudging your phone screen up, he saw it. An asmr video put on repeat of someone speaking closely into the microphones. They moved from side to side, lips moving in ways unread. He hummed to himself, settling the phone back down. One long arm wrapped around you as he tucked your body into his.

All of it was quite baffling. Why wouldn’t you just tell him that something as mundane as mouth sounds or whispering turned you on? Originally, he wanted to refrain from caressing your form until you brought it up to him. He wasn’t in competition with anything. So long as it made you cum, what did it matter to him what you listened to? But then he recalled the stories. One of your ex’s who belittled your interests. Weaker men, truly.

With a plan in mind, Sakusa came to a resolution.

-

Thumbing through youtube, you aimed to find the perfect video to sleep to. Your back leaned into Sakusa’s chest, comfortably forming to him. There was a peculiar expression he wore, upper lip pursed and brows slightly furrowed. Defensively, you hugged your phone to your chest, cheeks puffing out, “What? What’s that look for?”

“I can do better than them.” His voice vibrated within you, deep and gravely, triggering a sudden chill to lick your core, freezing you in place. The ravenette craned his neck so that his lips rested next to your ear. He let out a little sigh and a small ‘tt’ sound of his lips separating flushed your cheeks.

He scrolled through the videos with you, making small noises as he’d stop at one to read the description and move on. The thing about Sakusa’s hands was that despite the thickness of his lengthy fingers, they moved with a fluid grace. It was bewitching, the smallest sense of comfort and tiredness inching its way into your periphery. Visual triggers were a very specific spell to cast on you.

Small and hushed, you questioned, “Do better in what? Against who?”

Not that you could see from your  vantage point, but you could hear the way his lips pulled back into a smile. Or was it a smirk? “Do better at turning you on. Fucking you,” The syllables swam laps around your left ear. His voice dipped and crackled in just the right way to make your back twitch against him at its call. At the first long release of air form your nose, he pulled the device from your fingers and set it at the night stand. His chest pressed you forward as his muscled arm reached for the light, tapping it to the lowest dim.

The hand now found its home at your mid-thigh, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing the bare skin as it danced up, up, up. It pressed on the fabric of your panties at the hip, dragging it slightly before letting it go, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” He dropped his tone to a whisper, practically pressing his lips to your ear, “How every night you’ve been denying yourself a simple satisfaction?” The hiss of the ‘s’ and click of each consonant triggered your body to move. You pressed into him, crossing one leg over the other in a squeeze.

Sakusa kept speaking, but of nonsensical words made up of nonsensical syllables. His own breath was heavy, lust lacing each sound as your body rhythmically rolled into his. By the redness in your cheeks and the effort to restrain the swirl of your hips against his, he could tell you were trying to be good for him. It was amusing to see how flustered you got that such simple sounds could make you react in this way. He tsk’d thrice, large palm slinking to and then sinking into your inner thigh. Fingers wrapped hard into the flesh, pulling your leg away from its cross.

The motion alone would have had your cunt clench at nothing, but paired with the low lights and entrancing quality of his tone, you were dripping in anticipation. To make matters more complicated, the arm underneath you began to wrap around. He pressed heavily into your breast and let the warmth of his palm be the only signal for you to tilt your chin up for further purchase of your throat.

You were trapped into him, feeling his cock harden through his sweats at your back. Sakusa muttered into you, “Is this what you’ve wanted?” He hooked your leg around his, propping you open for his fingers to prattle up to the lining of your panties, “For me to whisper close to you? You’ve held back from me, baby. I don’t like that.” The fingers around your throat squeezed at the words and you bit your lip to cage the mewl threatening to leave them.

His forearm pressed into your chest, keeping you locked into place against him. He made it damn well apparent that you were in his control. And god you needed him to stop fucking around! The way he teased with a single finger, so lightly slipping up and down your slit was torturous. Sakusa let a low groan out as he rocked his hips against your ass in time with each teasing slide. He loved the desperate pulse of your heat every time he passed the entrance. He adored your high whine when he just barely touched on your puffy clit. Your body ached in wanton need and suddenly you regretted every night you went without being filled.

Weakly, your left arm wandered up so that dainty fingers slid into black waves lapping at the sands of his neck. He planted a small kiss along your cheekbone. With a bit of a devious streak, his lips carried back to the shell of your ear, where the tip of his tongue languidly traced the curve. His fingers nudged away the fabric of your panties. The pad of his index made circles against the quiver of your entrance. You shuddered in response, mouth opening just enough for a drawn and annoyed moan to escape, “Saa- ah!” The first breath you took, he pulled his finger back, slipping over the nub of nerves begging for his attention. Your sharp change in pitch was music to his ears. An instrument for him to play a tune of pleasure.

All the while, he continued to mutter nonsense into your ear, drowning you with the sounds you craved to engulf you. Your mind swam at each sense slowly being taken by him. His voice filling your mind with filth and praise. His body pressed so tight against yours that his warmth overpowered your own. Even your hands grasped at whatever surface of him they could find. Your existence was Sakusa Kiyoomi. Just how he wanted it to be.

Pleasure snaked into his insides with your grinding hips, his own following their rhythm. Cock twitch angrily, jealous of the finger that swirled still at your entrance. His lungs caught as the sticking sound of slick weeping onto his hand echoed. It was a gentle sound that he wanted to push farther. This was barely all his effort yet.

For as much as Bokuto or Atsumu could brag about getting their lovers to cum as fast and as many times as possible, Sakusa preferred the long and arduous route. He wanted begging. He wanted you so frustrated by your own desires that you couldn’t think of anything other than his cock stretching your gummy walls. He could rut you out from the start, but the way you drew his name out when you were at a breaking point was sheer decadence.

Sakusa was enamored by the beautiful glass sheen of your eyes as he agonizingly pressed the tip of his finger into your heat. You blinked a frustrated tear that clung to your lashes, lips prettily swollen from the abuse of your teeth. You were close, but stubborn. His own sex ached to be in you, his mind caught up in the fantasy of it. He growled, “How do you manage to stay so quiet when you’re swallowing up my fingers? I want to hear you. U-use your words, brat.” His brows twitched as the satisfying throb of you against his fingers.

Frustrated grappled with the words. His composure was crackling. Your mouth fell open at his admission, mind beginning to fog as his finger pressed fully into you, “Oomii,” your whine was throaty, barely squeezing past tense vocal chords, “just, ah- I want- your cock!”

“Where, baby?” The words were made in efficient haste. He would have chuckled when your hips roughly rubbed into his had he not been throbbing to be in you so urgently.

“In me. Now. Please, please,” Your pleading repeated into muddled huffs as his thumb drew circles on your clit. That was the last straw. Desperation drew your hand from his hair and to his pants. Your back arched to accommodate the room as you slinked your hand through his waistband to pull his length out.

In a succinct motion, you wet your hand with saliva, and pumped him twice. A deliciously loud, “Hng!” vaulted past his open lips, which pressed hungered kisses onto your jaw. The hand at your throat now cupped your breast, teasing the sensitive bud in its grasp. His mouth littered violent along the freed and smooth surface. Fingers slipped from your cunt and occupied themselves with your clit instead, tapping lazily, “My pretty baby is so responsive. So sensitive-“ His lips moved along your colored nape.

You shimmied up, aligning him at the entrance and letting go once his tip pressed firmly at your arousal. You couldn’t wait. You didn’t want to wait. Sakusa’s teeth sank into your shoulder. He wouldn’t let you just pull him around. Swiftly, he tugged you on your knees, fingers digging into the crease that thigh made with hip. The tip of his cock eagerly shoved past your twitching entrance. All that teasing, keeping you right at the cusp per his will built to this. Your eyes glazed as your walls stretched to accommodate him. Every small movement felt like a mile slide, sparking fire quick in your core. Legs shook with impatience.

Sure, his composure may have crumbled, leaving behind raw instinct to kiss at your cervix, but he still snapped you back with his movements forward. He still held you up with strong, calloused palms as your legs threatened to collapse. In only a few strokes, your walls clamped down on him, pulling him greedily back for every stroke out. You could feel the nails of orgasm claw its way from your walls to your throat, a beast ready to escape a cage holding it for far too long. Your fist balled the once pristine-pressed sheets beneath you.

Every muscle in your body tense, chaining back what threatened to unleash. Sakusa ran a hand through messied locks, pushing them back to admire the beauty of your blissed out expression. He leaned forward, left hand now entangling in your hair while the right rubbed your clit. He rutted mercilessly into you, a crisp and wet smack then stick filling the four walls around you. You wailed, “C-cum now puh-lease?”

Rough, careful, and managed, Sakusa tugged you onto your hands, leaning over you so only his voice took residence within your mind, “Mhm, but I want to hear you scream.” His breath hitched as you released. Your throat burned with a loud, low, and uncontrolled howl of his name. Every once tensed muscle spasmed so that the only thing keeping you up was the adjusted grip Kiyoomi had on you. From your hair, his arm supported your torso and pulled your back close to his chest in a kneel. He pumped through your orgasm, burying his nose into the crook of your neck as his own body wracked itself free of pent-up pleasure that curled at his stomach. A swallowed hummed filled the space between the two of you as his cock pulsed against your twitching walls, ropes of hot cum coating you from the inside and dripping out as he unsheathed.

Strong arms wrapped around you in an embrace as he flopped onto his back on the bed. Rapid pants conversed back and forth. Reality came back to you in slow pieces, recollecting like shattered porcelain glued by gold. Coming to was always the roughest part, even if the session wasn’t exactly the hardest. Kiyoomi kept his lips on your forehead, deliberately ignoring the sweat trickling on it and the cum spilling onto his thigh and bed. His large hand rubbed circles at your back and in turn, your fingers traced shapes along his chest.

Just as his own mind cleared, he grabbed the phone from the nightstand and clicked on a video he knew you liked. While the audio wasn’t exactly the same without headphones, you both collected your wits to the gentle sounds of wood-surface tapping. When you called his name, peering up through thick lashes, he felt his heart clench. Your voice was soft and filled with exhaustion, “Thank you. I love you. A lot. I mean it. So much.” You cooed at him, mumbling your praise and adoration. He returned each on in some way, whether it be a small “love you too” or a light press of his lips to your temple.

He had a goal to tear down the fear that he’d judge you like the others may have. To you, he not only tore the notion down, he disintegrated it to nothing.

 The thing is, Sakusa Kiyoomi, the man who seldom spoke past commands during sex, just devoted an entire session based on the sound of his voice for you.

[hardkuna]

Completionist

› 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚖𝚊 𝙺𝚘𝚣𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 

› 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕, 𝚠𝚊𝚡 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚋/𝚍𝚘𝚖?, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖.  𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚜. 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙.

› 𝟷,𝟿𝟽𝟾 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚖𝚊 𝙺𝚘𝚣𝚞𝚖𝚎 was a completionist. Every game, whether it be on a console, computer, or court, he would complete with precision. He was known to spend hours upon hours grinding for a single reward, opening every rooftop chest just for a single achievement. It was that same keen attention that let him play games for four to five hours at a time. A fixation to do every minor thing in order to reach a final prize. To get every single checkpoint along the way. Grueling work as it may be, relaxation dug its nails into the process with satisfaction following soon after. It applied to every portion of his life, a sweet hum of “we aren’t done until I reached my checkpoint.”

 That’s how he found himself above you, holding a lighter to a paraffin candle. The room was filled with the sound of the burning wick and your small pants. Kenma knew you were waiting for something to start, your mind running through all of the different routes. You liked the games just as much as he did. There was comfort in the concentrated blare of the wick alone.

  He never spoke much unless you acted out. He didn’t like when things seemed to glitch on him. That gentle complaintive whirr of wanting to be played until the end. Whenever it happened, Kenma would always want to restart until it worked again, properly. Lucky for him, tonight didn’t seem like one of those nights. At least not yet.

  He thought you looked cute with one of his hairbands tied over your eyes. Not that it was necessary considering your fists remained balled over them. Teeth rolled the plump flesh of your lip between them. You were waiting for him to start, but his game was just loading. Anticipation for a new level curled around your insides.

  The candle was raised slowly. The shift of his weight being the only warning as pretty white seeped from the side of the container. It started with a few drips, beads of wax splattering along your upper abdomen, just slightly between the valley of your bare breasts. The way your muscles reflexively recoiled at the sting causing the setter’s mouth to draw open in a delicate ‘oh’. So that’s the reaction he’d get from this one. It was a minor achievement, spurring a desire to see more of it.

  A small bitten back sound whined from the crevasse your throat as your arched your back upwards. The lines left a vibrant sting before dying into a comfortable warmth. The trickle of each deviating lane danced its warmth down your sides.

  Amber hues locked onto the steady stream pouring, creating drizzled lines that rolled this way and that to the curvature of your body. Like a level being conquered, he was glued to the screen that was your form in front of him. The way the hairband twitched, following the movement of the brows below it. The hitching of breath shown in your shuddering chest. Pretty. A small smile crafted onto his lips in admiration.

  If you were a game, you’d be story based. Rich in lore, background, and texture. Rich in your soundtrack, which was thickened honey to his ears. Rich in visuals, leading his eyes to wander along the artistic crafting of your skin.

  His hand reached out, the pads of his fingers a cool contrast to the warmth underneath them. The wax was soft still, but crackling with each upheaval of your chest. Gooseflesh threatened to pucker along your surface. His small smile flickered to daintily delighted. Everything for him was a game. An achievement. A reward for the time devoted for it. You were different. You reacted to him faster than any game. The way your thighs squeezed together at the slightest of touches a testament of the fact. You gave him things games could never. A sense of home and warmth and love and unwavering devotion. For each level of the relationship, he needed that second player to unlock it. You never let him down, you never disappointed. You silently challenged him in ways he never dreamt of before.

  And now, as the tips of his fingers trailed across you, a new challenge was set in the soft mewl of his name. Carefully, he picked the hardened pieces off, lips tracing each reddened route upwards. The tickle of his breath along you triggered a roll of your hips along the thigh between your legs. Friction. You’ve been deprived of it for all too long. The first grind began the swirl in the back of your mind and the pit of your stomach. The fluttering of his lips, the caress of his hands over the warm sting beneath them, each slow and soft movement was calculated.

  The tips of his fingers reached the underneath of your breast, sliding up onto them, allowing the buds to slip between with index and middle digit. Maintaining the steady-slow pace, the fingers came together, pinching the bud right where they joined. He reveled in softness of them. The bit of nerve that peeked between, his tongue met with a long and lavished lick. It didn’t matter if he tasted the salt of his own hand. The gasp, the buck of your hips at the muscle of his thigh, followed by the annoyed jerk of your chin made up for it.

  You weren’t glitching out just yet, so he could keep his game going.

  Kenma found his hands slipped down your body, down the valleys he’d found to trigger quick times if he pressed into you with just the right amount of pressure. Along the softened skin just at the outer edges of your stomach. Pressing slightly at the valley of your pelvis. The touch began to ghost before lifting. You whined again, lips curling into a pout while his pulled into an anticipatory line. He truly was a cat, ready to pounce at the movement of a mouse just before him.

  His next checkpoint was his favorite one. One he savored whenever it was his turn to create the scene. The checkpoint where you beg for his tongue on you. You two were competitive to a degree and this checkpoint was the most difficult to get to. It involved beating a harder boss – your ego.

  So, he leaned forward, pressing his thigh onto your pulsing cunt, letting you determine your own friction and pace. His lips met yours in a light kiss, cock twitching as you bit his lower lip hungrily. Your hands wound into his hair, pulling him closer in a desperate attempt to increase the friction of your swaying thighs. The slight friction caught on his length as well, the teasing of pleasure lapping at the underside of his belly. He let out a husked hum in response, slinking his hand to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The other tugged the headband from over your hazy hues.

  Heady and heavy lidded, Kenma toyed, “Do I need to restart the game or will you let me play?” Eyes searched each other in challenge before you conceded to him, slowly rolling so that you lower back rested on the bed once again. It was a painfully restrained motion and you knew he bubbled with glee at the quiver of your lip. The player in question inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as you gave him a moment of reprieve. The heart-beat strum between your legs fueled a summer fire in your gut, drying your throat to his next question, “Hm?” His head tilted, a playful glint in his eye as he watched you unwind.

  “Please jus’ fuck me already.” The words came out in a strangled whisper. The gentle sting of the wax remained in the form of his torso pressing on yours, reinviting the claws of heat along the skin. You rolled your body to press into his, stealing another staved kiss.

  Check Point: Reached.

  Sometimes, Kenma could be the most expressive person. In that moment, you could see the excitement spread through the soft lift of his features. He moved down, dipping his head between your thighs. It wasn’t precisely what you had asked for, but was greedily indulged in all the same. Fingers spready your lips, his tongue running up flat, the tip expertly curling just beyond the entrance before flattening again and pressing onto the bundle of nerves above it. You were a muted sweetness, like warmed sugar water that he drank up like nectar. He could replay this level over and over. It was the one piece he didn’t mind working harder for. Feeling your thighs twitch and tighten around his head, the way your lips parted in moans with the thrust of his tongue.

  It might’ve been silly, but he tended to get lost in it, nearly forgetting the angered ache of his own sex. What brought him back to reality was your feverish grip in his hair and the way your hips rocked. Breath caught in your throat, but the desperate way you moved begged for more and he humbly obliged. Two fingers slid easily into the slick, finding the rhythm and spot to make you hum a honey-thick sticky ‘nnn’. The coil in you burned at his touch, condensing like taught wires ready to snap. To spite the ache in his jaw, his tongue circled languidly in contrast to the quickened pace of his hands. If gaming taught him anything, it was excellent hand coordination. He panted onto you, exhaustion building from the effort. He knew you were holding it.

  So, he stopped, sat back on his haunches and crossed his arms. His brows furrowed, creasing in slight frustration. He should have gotten you already. Twice at least by how your walls had half sputtered along his fingers. Kenma reached his checkpoint only to be met with delayed gratification.

  If he couldn’t achieve it with his tongue, the very least he could do was forcibly snap that wire with what you had originally wanted. With that said, the blond motioned for you to lay on your side, pulling one of your legs up to his chest while the other remained between his legs. Flexibility was never entirely a problem for you, he found during the first few games. Arms wrapped around your leg, pinning it to him as the tip of his cock found its way to your sopping arousal.

  He guided it in slowly. So slowly that your walls attempted to pull him in. Your cheeks grew a pretty pink, lashes shut, brows furrowing in concentrated pained pleasure. Kenma leaned his cheek onto your calf, “S-serves you right for holding onto it for so long.” The air in his tone was a smug matter-of-fact betrayed by the struggled stutter. From all the pent up teasing, the friction of your hips on his cock, your taste on his tongue, and now the butterfly-like flutter along his length as he rut into you, Kenma Kozume could soon claim completion. The withheld orgasms frayed the tightened wires in your core and from it, a lathered and lush howl escaped. The tight vice of you milked at Kenma’s cock, his own breath hitched as his strides stuttered. With one last thrust, thickened whips of cum lashed warmly at your walls.

  As he pulled his sweat-sheened cheek away from your leg, slipping out of you in the process, Kenma flopped onto your chest. Both of you panted in near alternating synchronicity. His eyes slid shut, relishing in the sound of your rapid heartbeat. Your fingers shakily soothed through his hair, “Love you.”

  “Love you too…” He peered up at you, then at the hand which lifted from your bicep with an audible stick, “I hate being sweaty… shower?”

  “Hell yeah. Cold, though!”

  “Disgusting, but fine,” The corner of his lips curled up as you flicked his forehead.