Spooky #1 Bokuto Simp
@urstrulyspooky
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27. writer. deranged & freaky. pfp: @0wl_lord
they/them, MINORS DNI 🔞
Joined March 2024
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✎ spooky’s writing thread
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#sakuatsu
jock x goth college au 🔞
Like most college students, they meet for the first time at a party. Atsumu is all arrogance, cocky and flamboyant. He smells like cheap beer and over complicates beer pong rules.
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#atsuhina
|| flirting, atsumu is a simp, hinata is a tease
The smell of meat and fried food wafts through the air, accompanied by the incessant chatter of people enjoying themselves after a long
work day.
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Should I continue this with a more detailed description of the first time omi fucks atsumu?
yes absolutely
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leave it here
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With his cock buried down Atsumu’s throat, fingers curled in bleached hair, Kiyoomi worries that the star volleyball player could easily become his newest obsession.
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“Didn’t know you were interested in men,” Kiyoomi comments through a puff of smoke. His lipstick stains the butt of the cig, and he imagines it smeared on Atsumu’s lips.
“There’s a lot of things ya dunno about me,” Atsumu grins. Kiyoomi wants to wipe the smugness off his face.
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He makes stupid comments like “I’ve always wanted to fuck a goth babe” and “I bet you’re a freak in bed, huh?” It’s a horrible pick up attempt and Kiyoomi resents the anticipation that twists in his gut.
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He’s an unapologetic asshole, and yet half the student body is obsessed with him.
Kiyoomi gets it, though he hates to admit it. Atsumu is horribly attractive, even when he’s being an immature brat and arguing with his twin over who knows what, always itching for a fight.
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Atsumu’s loud and enthusiastic, and when Kiyoomi slots his thigh between Atsumu’s legs, pressing up into his crotch, Atsumu grinds into it happily.
He cums like that, unfazed by the mess he makes in his pants.
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He presses the heel of his palm to Kiyoomi’s bulge, working him through the fabric until Kiyoomi pushes the touch away.
“Don’t make a mess you won’t clean up.”
“Not a problem,” Atsumu says, and falls to his knees to without hesitation.
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bonus thoughts: atsumu helping omi back into his ridiculously thick boots with too many fucking buckles.
+ when tsumu walks omi out, all his housemates are in the front waiting for him and immediately start mocking him with over exaggerated fake moans (sunarin behavior)
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When they kiss, Atsumu is just as over eager and handsy as Kiyoomi expects. They’re hidden in the dark on the side of the house, and Atsumu moves against him like it’s the first time in his life he’s been touched. It’s intoxicating.
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jjk not the only thing leaking tonight
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“We can split it,” he offers like an entitled prick, as if it’s his cigarette to share. Kiyoomi lets him get away with it.
Atsumu never stops talking. He compliments Kiyoomi’s make up, his thick boots, his dark eyes and pretty moles.
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Kiyoomi is sipping on the flask he brought, filled with dry red wine that sucks all the moisture out of his mouth, and chain smoking outside when Atsumu asks to bum one. When Kiyoomi tells him it’s his last one, Atsumu just smiles in response.
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“Don’t need to be smart to take my cock. My perfectly wet and warm fuck toy.”
“Shit,” Atsumu curses. His tongue licks into Kiyoomi’s mouth desperately, hips rocking to encourage some movement.
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”Just a taste.” Kiyoomi agrees, and presses their mouths together, knowing they’ll both keep coming back for more.
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They sit shoulder to shoulder, the cool night air flowing through Atsumu’s open window, carrying away the stench of sex and the smoke from the cigarette they share between kiss swollen lips.
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Kiyoomi leans forward, tongue licking the roof of Atsumu’s mouth.
“Feel what, baby? Already so cock dumb you forgot how to use your words?” Kiyoomi teases, his own voice breathy from exertion.
“Yer piercing,” Atsumu gasps. “Fuck that feels good.”
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Attraction is such a messy little thing.
It’s his baser instincts that push Kiyoomi to touch, fingers gliding through the thick, dark hair of Atsumu’s undercut, tongue licking into his mouth despite the repulsive taste of beer that lingers.
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Kiyoomi devours him like Atsumu is summer fruit in the dead of winter, sun warmed and sweet on his tongue, made even more delicious by the jealousy of the starved.
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His hand wraps around where Kiyoomi’s gripping the bottle, all alcohol-warmed skin.
“Please~?” Atsumu tilts his body closer, lips just a breath away from Kiyoomi’s ear. “Please give it t’me, Omi. Want it so bad. Need it. Please.”
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They do this enough that Kiyoomi knows what Atsumu tastes like before he even gets his mouth on him. Only ever at parties, and typically hidden in the shadows. Their dirty secret. Something that’s just for them.
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His hips meet the swell of Atsumu’s ass in one fluid motion, buried to the hilt. Atsumu’s legs wrap around Kiyoomi to keep him there. He’s so warm, his thick thighs heavy around Kiyoomi’s sides.
“Maybe I like you a little dumb,” he confesses.
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Kiyoomi gets some distance between them so he can watch the way his cock moves in and out of Atsumu, a steady rhythm just on the edge of not enough.
“You like the thought of that Miya? Being nothing but a hole for me to fuck?”
“Yes!” Atsumu groans, nails digging into his arms.
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Naked as the day they were born, Kiyoomi takes Atsumu apart in a bed that has seen plenty of similar scenes. Atsumu has a lot of notches in his bed post, but Kiyoomi is determined to carve his deeper. Nothing will compare to the way Kiyoomi makes him feel.
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atsumu and hinata at a club would be so messy. they’re taking tequila shots from each others navel, licking salt off each others skin, taking limes from each other’s mouths. they have a room full of eyes on them, just how they like it.
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Or so it was. It’s hard to care about the prying eyes of their peers when Atsumu’s hands are on the bare skin of his hips. This is a first for them, but so is Atsumu inviting Kiyoomi over to his own house for a party. They’re crossing lines that they’ve never bothered to draw.
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They tumble toward the feeling with practiced hands that now feel clumsy with want.
Kiyoomi’s fingers are replaced with the tip of his cock, the heat of Atsumu a comfortable pressure around him.
“Gonna fuck me stupid, Omi Omi?” Atsumu asks, just as hopeful as he is teasing.
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They look beautiful together. Kiyoomi all pale skin and black tattoos, black makeup, black eyes. Atsumu and the sun that lives in his skin, golden and warm, muscles meticulously toned with years of training. Opposites united in their primal urges.
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“You can do better than that.”
It displeases Atsumu to be denied, especially in the heat of the moment. Kiyoomi knows this and uses it to his advantage.
Atsumu crowds in closer, head dropping to Kiyoomis shoulder. He gives in so easily.
“Want ya to fuck me so bad Omi.”
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“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu says through a sigh. His name sounds like a blessing on Atsumu’s lips.
In the foggy haze of hormones, lust feels a lot like love. Atsumu does something chemical to him, a spike of oxytocin every time their bodies shift against each other just right.
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“Or-“ He leans in again, mouth to Atsumu’s ear. “I could fuck you so hard everyone here will hear you screaming my name through the walls.”
Kiyoomi can feel the shiver that runs up his spine.
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“I’m all yours.”
In a room full of people, Kiyoomi is Atsumu’s first choice. What does it say about him that his heart swells with pride?
“Let’s go.”
Fingers tangle, a sacred touch that holds a promise.
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ATTENTION HAIKYUU CONTENT CREATORS 🗣️
I’m making a discord server for all our beautiful creative minds to come together and yap endlessly. It’ll be 18+ so please have your age in bio!
Rt to join ↻
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Despite that, or maybe because of it, their hookups are some of the hottest Kiyoomi’s ever had. He’s plagued with thoughts of Atsumu’s mouth, his unabashed moans, the frantic jerk of his hips against Kiyoomi’s leg.
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Kiyoomi pulls himself up on his knees and his hands grab the back of Atsumu’s thighs, pushing forward so the blonde is nearly bent in half. The first sharp thrust buries Kiyoomi so deep that Atsumu practically screams in ecstasy.
“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” Atsumu pleads.
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The way Atsumu writhes beneath him makes the pain and healing of getting the King’s Crown piercing worth it. It drags beautifully against Atsumu’s walls, makes him whimper and squirm when Kiyoomi angles himself just right.
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He only takes what Kiyoomi willingly gives, and never complains for more.
It’s a power trip to have the campus heartthrob in the palm of his hands. The whispers and heavy stares only light a fire inside Kiyoomi.
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End 💫
We’re going to pretend I’m not late for atsuhina day. I may or may not expand on this, I think it’d be a fun slow burn to post on ao3, but we’ll see.
Thanks for reading 🖤
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They’re here for wandering hands and frenzied kisses, for instinct that consumes all reason. They’re here to free themselves to the feeling. Spit slick lips pant with labored breathing, fingers tremble with buckles and buttons.
A touch that sparks and a moan that sings.
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There’s honesty in the way Atsumu moves against him, a longing for touch so strong that the body takes over in the moment.
“Please Omi.” Their eyes meet again, but this time all the smug confidence is wiped clean from Atsumu’s face. All that’s left is animalistic desire.
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Lips kiss at his neck, nipping at the thin skin. “Know ya would fill me up so good.”
Without the pressure of Kiyoomi’s leg, Atsumu settles for rocking against his body.
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“Wouldn’t be difficult given who I’m working with.”
“Ya callin’ me dumb?”
Kiyoomi’s lips curl at the edges, another genuine smile that Atsumu manages to pull out of him whenever they fall into each other.
He doesn’t waste another second, they’ve waited long enough.
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Atsumu is swept away in the undercurrent. If he feels any shame at all rocking into Kiyoomi’s leg, it’s overwhelmed by the accompanying pleasure.
“All your fans are watching you get off like a bitch in heat.” He pulls his leg up higher, and Atsumu happily grinds down harder.
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“Let ‘em.”
It’s a tempting idea, but Kiyoomi has other plans for the night. He pulls away from Atsumu’s mouth to take his chin between his fingers, their eyes locking.
“Is that what you want? For everyone to see you cum in your pants like a desperate teenager?” Kiyoomi taunts.
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It could be a lot of things that push Kiyoomi to the edge; Atsumu’s words, which don’t make sense because Kiyoomi is wearing a condom. Maybe the fantasy of what it would look like if he wasn’t, if he let himself fuck Atsumu raw and watch his cum make a mess of his stretched hole.
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It’s obvious to him how badly Atsumu wants him, though he always puts up a front in the beginning. It’s a little cute, just because Kiyoomi knows how quickly he can get Atsumu begging.
“Such a filthy mouth, Omi-kun.” Atsumu grins.
“Want it or not, Miya?”
“Fuck yeah.”
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He wants everyone to see how pathetic Atsumu is for him, how the freaky goth is the one who has their college crush at his beck and call.
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“Please, want ya to use me so bad. Wanna choke on yer cock Omi, please.”
“Fucking hell,” Kiyoomi curses to himself and drops to his back, fingers curling in bleached hair, “pinch me if you need to stop.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t wait for a response.
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Atsumu strips him quickly, eager to get back to the task at hand.
He wraps a hand around the base of Kiyoomi’s cock, pumps him one, two, three times, nice and slow.
“Always thought ya’d be big.”
“You think about my cock often, Miya?” Kiyoomi breathes.
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do y’all think oomfs will think I’m so cool and hot…
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Atsumu is too blinded by lust to notice or care. He drops his cheek to Kiyoomi’s thigh, nuzzling Kiyoomi’s cock against his face so his breath is hot against the skin when he speaks.
“Please fuck my mouth Omi.” He takes one small lick, then another.
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atsumu is so hot i’m gonna die
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It’s as much discovery of self as it is discovery of another. He studies the noises Atsumu makes when succumbed to pleasure, and learns that it fuels the hunger inside him like gasoline on a fire.
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Kiyoomi snaps his hips and watches his cock disappear in and out of Atsumu. He grips the trimmed waist to hold Atsumu steady, though he still shifts up the bed with the force of each thrust.
“God, Omi, can feel, ah-“ Atsumu gasps.
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His fashion sense is abysmal, his music tastes somehow even worse, and his personality makes it hard to believe anyone puts up with him. He’s everything Kiyoomi typically hates; just a stupid jock that only cares about volleyball, partying, and getting his dick wet.
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He’s brutal with his thrusts, can disantly hear the headboard snapping against the wall with enough force to crack. There’s tears collecting in the corner of Atsumu’s eyes and Kiyoomi wants to watch them fall, wants to see Atsumu’s cheeks wet and nose runny,
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They have all the time in the world, something that they never bothered indulging before.
Each curl of fingers is met with a deep arch of a spine, each nip of skin between hungry teeth rewarded with broken moans.
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Kiyoomi presses down on the muscle and Atsumu’s jaw falls open in obedience.
They’re far from the fire pit but Kiyoomi swears he can still see the flames dancing in Atsumu’s eyes, a challenge in the unspoken words between them.
“Is this what you wanted?”
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In fact, when Atsumu rolls onto his stomach, arms bracketing Kiyoomi’s body, Kiyoomi finds himself welcoming the proximity.
Then, Atsumu leans down and connects their lips. It’s easily the sweetest kiss they’ve shared, no mindless desperation fueling them anymore.
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it’s me i’m the sex obsessed freak
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Haikyuu characters and their kinks/fetishes; a thread 🖤
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Kiyoomi is so pent up, he knows this won’t last long. There’s no resistance at all as he guides Atsumu’s head up and down, he takes exactly what Kiyoomi gives.
“So good, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi praises, hips moving to push himself even deeper.
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Unspoken agreements mean nothing when there’s nothing to hold them accountable.
Kiyoomi never thought they’d be anything more than a one night stand. Atsumu is arrogant and insufferable on his best days.
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His hair is a wild mess on the sheets, tangled blonde strands that Kiyoomi wants to run his fingers through.
He gives into the urge, gripping Atsumu’s hair near the roots, tugging just hard enough until Atsumu’s lips pop open in a strangled moan.
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Hinata’s answer is spoken against Atsumu’s lips. It tastes like a confession.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
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Bad idea. Horrible idea. Kiyoomi needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.
He lets go of the bottle and rips his hand away like Atsumu’s touch burns him. He can feel the heat flooding his cheeks.
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All that exists here is a warm, wet heat, the feeling of sweat on his skin and the taste of someone else on his tongue.
He fucks Atsumu like a man possessed. Some deep, ancient instinct takes over in the moment.
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“Then say it.” Kiyoomi urges.
“Want ya.”
Of course Atsumu is going to be a brat about it. That’s fine though, it makes the pay off that much sweeter.
Kiyoomi presses up to feel Atsumu painfully hard against him, then rips that pressure away, leaving Atsumu void of sensation.
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Kiyoomi really could smack that stupid smug look off his face.
Instead he grips Atsumu’s cheeks between his fingers, forces his jaw open, and kisses him until they’re both dizzy. He only stops once Atsumu is a whimpering mess again, then pats him on the cheek condescendingly.
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He wipes it away with the pad of his thumb without a second thought. Atsumu is just as quick to grab him by the wrist before he can pull away, and puts Kiyoomi’s thumb in his wet mouth.
The glide of Atsumu’s tongue is smooth against his skin.
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When the moon is high up in the sky, Atsumu leans into Kiyoomi’s space, eyeing the bottle in his lap.
“Gimme some.”
Kiyoomi’s hand tightens protectively around the neck. “No.”
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“I hate camping.”
“Yah, so I’ve been hearin’.” Atsumu responds, amused.
Kiyoomi redirects his glare to Atsumu. “Stop laughing at me.”
“ ‘m not laughin’.”
Kiyoomi ducks his chin to his chest and watches the flames. He’s tired. He’s dirty. He wants to go home already.
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Their encounters typically pass in a blur of lust, stirred on by the desire to touch and be touched. Kiyoomi can feel that same desperation now. Being sandwiched between a wall and Atsumu’s body doesn't offer many options, but Kiyoomi’s never needed much to drive Atsumu crazy.
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The meat of Kiyoomi’s thigh meets the already strained crotch of Atsumu’s jeans. Here, in front of a whole party of people, it feels like a show. Atsumu has always shined at center stage.
“Omi.” A gasp, a roll of his hips.
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It’s pure, an almost innocent kiss that doesn’t belong in this room that reeks of sex. A kiss that is so out of character for what they are, if they’re anything at all.
When Atsumu pulls back there’s a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Ya got another cig I can bum?”
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The room blurs as they’re ripped off their stage and pushed into the privacy of the bedroom. The walls are littered with posters and memories captured in the instant flash of a camera, telling the intimate story of Atsumu’s life.
Kiyoomi’s not here for these details though.
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“I dunno,” Atsumu shoots back, cheeky as always, “ya want me t’be thinkin’ ‘bout it?”
Kiyoomi should scoff—that’s what Atsumu is expecting—because that’s how Kiyoomi usually reacts to his persistent flirting. But a moment of honesty washes over him instead.
“Yes,” Kiyoomi says.
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“Please Omi,” Atsumu whispers—his voice is quiet, but certain, “wanna taste ya on my tongue.” He leans in close, their noses brushing. “Want yer cock down my throat. Please, please.”
Kiyoomi inhales sharply.
“Well, since you asked so nicely…”
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It makes Atsumu feel like they’re still sweaty, over eager high school boys with too much time and not nearly enough experience.
Except they’re not boys anymore. They’re grown men now with plenty of experience, but hardly any time.
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It’s exciting, in that uncertain, experimental touch type of way. There’s something nostalgic about it too, learning intimate details about someone he’s known for years.
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Wants him to be a disgusting mess, just for Kiyoomi.
Maybe Atsumu isn’t the only one get fucked stupid here. His mind feels blank as he chases his own pleasure.
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“Because you’ll give me what I want, even when I’m not singing your praises?” Hinata leans in closer, lips stretching in a playful grin.
Atsumu swears Hinata has his own gravitational pull. Atsumu has been drawn to him for a while now.
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Atsumu moves further down his body, cheek pressed to Kiyoomi’s crotch, dopey smile still on his face as he looks up. Arousal pools in Kiyoomi’s gut.
Atsumu mouths at the quickly swelling bulge in Kiyoomi’s pants.
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The later it gets the more their words slur together, their laughs loud and booming through the camp grounds. At least they don’t have to worry about predators, their voices are loud enough to scare anything away.
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There’s a distant thought that maybe he shouldn’t have provoked Atsumu. This isn’t going to end how Kiyoomi expected.
“Can I please have some?” Atsumu asks sweetly. He really plays it up, eyes wide and lashes fluttering as he leans further into Kiyoomi’s space.
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