Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I don’t know, having to work for it just isn’t as good,” Atsumu says as he picks up another piece of beef from the grill. His volume was probably louder than what is appropriate, especially considering the topic of their conversation, but it’s a Friday night and everyone else in the restaurant has also had a couple of drinks. So no one’s really listening in on them.

“So like a pillow princess?” Suna asks, with his head resting on his hand. 

Atsumu shrugs as he takes another sip from his jug of beer. “Not exactly, just… I don’t know, it feels better when I can just take it from the back,“ Atsumu admits with a mumble. 

“So exactly like a pillow princess,” Sakusa says with a nod of his head. Suna bursts out laughing in the seat next to him, and Atsumu feels himself flush. It’s just from the alcohol though.

“‘M not a pillow princess!” Atsumu declares, slamming his jug down on the table. This earns them a couple of odd looks from the waiter walking by, but Atsumu doesn’t pay him any mind. “I can get off with just my dick just fine! Who cares about my ass?! Like literally I don–”

“Oh god, wait, stop. Don’t talk about these things when Osamu is sitting right here. Isn’t it weird?” Sakusa asks with a grimace, one hand dragging down his face. 

All three of them turn to look at Osamu, who had been occupying himself by refilling the grill with more meat. He looks up when he notices them staring and shrugs.

“I don’t mind,” Osamu says, flipping the grilled meat around. “It’s not my ass I gotta worry about.” Osamu frowns. “Or my dick actually.”

Sakusa groans and Suna lets out a snort of amusement. “Just ignore them, it’s probably a weird twin thing or something. I’ve learned it’s better not to think or ask about it,” Suna says as he raises his glass in the air.

Sakusa lets out a sigh, but lifts his own glass up (higher than Suna’s, making sure only the bottom of the glasses clink together and not the top.) Atsumu also lifts his glass up, trying to catch Osamu’s eye, but his brother is solely focused on the food. Atsumu tries not to pout as he takes a sip, but the alcohol is making it a bit hard. 

🟆

“Tsumu, what did I say about making noise?” Osamu says, tone disapproving. Atsumu stills. He couldn't see what Osamu was watching from this angle, but Osamu’s eyes didn’t even leave his iPad.  

A small sound escapes the back of Atsumu’s throat. Osamu’s eyes flick over to him, and he clicks his tongue. 

“What’s the point of a ball gag when you can’t even stay silent?” Osamu asks, clicking his tongue. Atsumu tries to swallow the whine but he still hears it escaping his throat. He sits back on his thighs and takes a deep breath through his nose, willing himself to refocus. 

“That’s it,” Osamu says. It’s not a praise, not a coo, but simply approving what should have been. “But I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?”

Atsumu flinches and brings himself up again. His knees are starting to hurt from carrying his weight for so long despite the cushion underneath them. He brings himself closer and starts to rut again, clenching his eyes closed when it's just not enough . 

“There we go, look at’cha,” Osamu laughs as he puts the iPad down on the bedside table. “Finally looking like how ya act.”

Atsumu is kneeling on the floor by Osamu’s feet, stripped bare except for the leather collar that sits just a little too tight on his neck and the pair of handcuffs on his wrists bound behind his back. He can feel the collar dig into his neck every time he takes a deep inhale and it makes his heart pound for different reasons. The ball gag had been added a couple of minutes ago when Osamu couldn’t handle all the noises Atsumu was making whilst he was watching his videos. On the other hand, Osamu was fully dressed – a loose black shirt and black jeans – making the difference between the two even more obvious. 

Atsumu had been adamant when they were out with their friends that he could get off with just his dick alone, so Osamu’s making him prove it. Osamu had stripped him of his clothes, sat down on the edge of the bed and made Atsumu kneel on the floor in front of him. He then proceeded to slot a leg between Atsumu’s and only told him one word. 

Hump.

Atsumu had gaped and tried to argue, which only caused Osamu to pull his hair so that he was kneeling tall. He brought their faces together and told him that the only way he would be getting off today was by humping his leg since he wanted to use his cock so badly. Atsumu had crumpled when Osamu let go, and reluctantly started to rut forward. 

It was demeaning and humiliating — Osamu casually scrolling on his iPad whilst Atsumu was humping his leg like a dog — but Atsumu couldn’t deny how hard it made him when he realised Osamu was serious.  

The first couple of minutes had been delicious. Once Atsumu started, he couldn’t get himself to stop — chasing that feeling of pleasure with each jump of his hips. And he was tethering on the edge, so close that he almost got lost in the feeling, but it wasn’t enough. He just needed one more push, something to really get him over the edge. That something never came, and it’s been over an hour. 

“Samu,” Atsumu tries to whine through the ball gag. He can feel the spit running down his chin and the sweat beading along the edge of his hairline. He’s sweating and his thighs ache and all he wants to do is cum but it just wasn’t enough. His dick feels like it's been rubbed raw from the rough material of Osamu’s jeans and normally Atsumu likes the pain, but this was a whole different type of pain. 

“ Pweash, ” his voice sounds wet and pathetic even to his own ears, but Atsumu swallows down the wave of humiliation that comes with it.

Osamu makes a sound of acknowledgement, but doesn’t do anything except prop his elbow up on the bedside table, resting his chin on his hand. Atsumu looks up at him through wet eyelashes and finds that Osamu is looking at him with a bored expression. 

“What do ya want?” Osamu asks, sounding almost annoyed that he even has to ask. As if it isn’t obvious enough. Atsumu wants to get off. He wants to cum, to ejaculate . His dick fucking hurts and its almost concerning how red and rubbed raw it is, yet Osamu has the gall to ask what he wants . He’d roll his eyes and scoff at him if he were in any other situation, but Atsumu knows he’s not in any position to be a brat at the moment, not if he wants to actually get off that is. 

Atsumu lets out a whine and gives Osamu his best puppy eyes, hoping his brother would give him some mercy. Osamu scoffs at this, rolling his eyes at Atsumu, but he still sticks his leg out a bit further, the angle making it easier for Atsumu to hump. Atsumu picks up the pace again, rolling his hips and sighing in frustration when it doesn’t seem to help all that much. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Osamu taunts, lifting his leg a little higher. Atsumu has to lift himself slightly with the new angle, but he shakes his head. 

“No?” Osamu asks. “Then what about this?”

Osamu lifts his leg up in one smooth go, causing Atsumu to stumble off balance. He falls face first into Osamu’s lap, Osamu grabbing onto the back of his head as he holds him there on his lap. Atsumu’s face is centimetres from Osamu’s crotch, and it takes everything in him not to take a deep inhale through his nose right there. He inches closer and nuzzles his face against the rough fabric despite knowing he shouldn’t, but he feels like a kid with candy dangling in front of his face. How can he resist when it's right in front of him?

Osamu laughs in disbelief then shoves Atsumu away from him. Atsumu falls onto the floor with a heavy thud and a groan. He doesn’t even get time to process or complain about it, because the next second Osamu is towering over him and picking him up like he weighs nothing. Osamu drops him onto the edge of the bed he was just sitting on, and Atsumu grunts as he bounces once from the impact. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and wriggles around so that his hands weren’t digging so much into his lower back. 

“Spread,” Osamu says as he smacks the inside of Atsumu’s thigh. The slap stings, but it was gone before Atsumu could even enjoy it. He spreads his legs just as Osamu reaches over and grabs a pillow. Osamu then proceeds to grab a fistful of Atsumu’s hair to lift his head up, slotting the pillow underneath, before he unceremoniously lets him go again. 

“Ya better keep them spread,” Osamu says as he turns around to their wardrobe to grab something. Atsumu tries to crane his neck to see, but even propped up with a pillow, this new angle makes it a bit hard, especially considering how Osamu’s broad back covers most of what he’s doing. But Atstumu knows that that is where they keep most of their toys and lube, so he can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement lick up his spine. Hopefully Osamu will forget about his cock and play with his ass instead. Maybe he’ll play with his nipples, it’s been a while since they used the suction cups. 

Osamu comes back whilst Atsumu was spacing out, so he completely misses what was in his hand, and Osamu made sure to put whatever he was holding somewhere above his head on the bed so that he couldn’t see. 

“Ya said ya could get off with your dick jus’ fine, right?” Osamu asks, and Atsumu doesn't like the smile on his face. “What was it again? ‘ Who cares about my ass?’ Is that what ya said to Suna? ”

Atsumu shakes his head and tries to say no , his eyes going wide as he tries to plead with Osamu. It’s somehow even worse now that his smile has dropped again. 

“No?” Osamu asks, tilting his head to the side. “But I remember ya saying that over dinner. Should I call Sunarin and double check?”

Atsumu’s shaking his head even more furiously, whining and whimpering as he begs his brother through his ball gag. Osamu sighs and shakes his head in disappointment. “Guess we’ll just have to check with him next time then. I’ll ask again, can ya get off with jus’ ya cock or is it too useless?” Osamu asks as he takes Atsumu’s dick in his fist. He pumps it once before digging the nail of his thumb into the underside of his head. Atsumu keens and nods his head, before shaking it again. He can’t make up his mind with the way Osamu’s pumping him, spreading the pre-cum that’s been leaking out of him all over his cock. 

“Hmm, I don’t really know what yer tryin’ to say, ‘Tsumu. Maybe we’ll just hafta find out for ourselves then.” Osamu lets go of him just as Atsumu was starting to feel close, his chest rising and falling as he sucks in deep breaths of air through his nose. He still can’t make out what Osamu’s trying to play at, and he’s not sure whether that scares or excites him. 

“Hmm ya know what, this is gettin’ boring if ya ain’t running yer mouth,” Osamu says as he twists his head to remove the ball gag from Atsumu’s mouth. “There we go,” Osamu coos, tapping the side of Atsumu’s face with faux affection. Atsumu gasps, and Osamu wipes his hand against Atsumu’s cheek from the spit that’s gotten on him. 

“‘Samu please,” Atsumu begs. His dick was straining, hanging heavy and red with how much he needed to cum, but Osamu was just ignoring it. “I need’ta cum, please, please .”

Osamu laughs low in his throat. “Wow, already begging? We haven’t even gotten started yet.” Osamu pretends to think, tapping his chin with a finger. “But if ya wanna come, I can think of one way. Plus ,” he adds. “Ya can prove Sunarin right.” 

“Hold these open,” Osamu says, tapping the inside of his thighs as he moves closer. Atsumu does as he’s told, holding a bated breath as he watches his brother. Osamu was standing between his spread legs, but he was still fully clothed, ignoring the obvious tent in his own pants. Osamu runs his hands up and down Atsumu’s thighs, kneading and pinching the flesh as he likes, and Atsumu has to bite his lip to prevent noises from escaping. 

Without any warning, Osamu reels his hand back and lands a heavy swat right on Atsumu’s cock. Atsumu screams, legs instinctively closing as the pain explodes across his dick and spreads across his body. Osamu seemed to expect this, forcing Atsumu’s thighs open himself before landing another one, two, three smacks right across his cock. Atsumu cries out and curls in on himself, turning onto his side once Osamu lets go of him. His chest is heaving and it feels like his dick is on fire. Atsumu can’t hear anything past the ringing in his ears, even as Osamu manhandles him back onto his back. Osamu places a knee onto Atsumu’s thigh, holding him down as he holds the other thigh down with his hand. 

“Fuck, ya look even more stupid than usual ‘Tsumu,” Osamu sneers, and Atsumu can’t even find it in him to respond to his taunts. He knows how he must look. There’s drool running down the side of his mouth as Atsumu can’t stop panting. Tears are prickling the corners of his eyes and he’s sweating like he just ran a marathon. But despite all that, his dick is still painfully hard . And obviously this doesn’t escape Osamu’s notice. 

“Ya like pain and wanted to use yer cock. So I’m only helping ya,” Osamu explains with a shrug. He runs a finger up and down Atsumu’s cock, before flicking him right on the cockhead. 

Atsumu curses, which breaks off into a moan when Osamu does it again. 

Osamu cocks his head when Atsumu can only lie there and pant, tears streaming down his face. 

“Maybe I gotta use more force?” Osamu asks out loud. This has Atsumu panicking, shaking his head furiously. 

“No please Samu– I can’t, it hurts, please,” Atsumu begs. Osamu smiles down at him mockingly as he watches Atsumu shake in pain. 

“Ya say no, but your cock has never been harder. Looks like yer body’s the only one being honest here,” Osamu tuts. “And here I was thinking of letting you get off easy, but ya just had to go ahead and lie.” 

Atsumu’s gasping, wriggling on the bed to try and get away but Osamu’s weight on him is too much. He knows Osamu was just saying whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter what Atsumu said, anything would be used as an excuse for Osamu to do what he wanted with him. Atsumu’s entire body was just a giant play thing for Osamu to toy with.  

“Now, let’s see if this helps ya get off.”

Osamu brings his arm up and swings down with full force. Again and again and again . Osamu doesn’t let up once he starts, raining down slaps onto Atsumu’s cock and balls and inner thighs. Atsumu cries and screams and moans. He tries begging and pleading, but Osamu doesn't let up. And it’s only when Osamu starts getting tired that he manhandles Atsumu onto his front – face down, ass up – and continues spanking his ass with his other hand. Atsumu has nearly gone silent from everything. He can’t tell the pain from the pleasure anymore, and he swears his cock has grown a heartbeat of its own as it pulses between his legs, leaking non-stop. 

His cock swings with each slap against his ass, and somehow that’s so much better and so much worse at the same time. Atsumu is grateful for the relief on his cock, but each spank has him jolting forward, and Osamu isn’t going any easier on him. 

Osamu lands one final swat on his ass, putting his full force behind it which sends Atsumu toppling onto the bed. Osamu is panting behind him, and Atsumu can’t stop whimpering and crying. Everything feels too much, his ass and cock hurt but he feels so good . He barely registers when Osamu turns him back on his back, and wraps a hand around his cock. Atsumu cries out at the sensation of the cold lube against his heated skin, and he can’t stop moaning when Osamu starts to squeeze and move his hand up and down. Atsumu writhes in the sheets, mewling and squealing as Osamu squeezes more of the cooling lube onto him. The hot and cold sensation of the lube and his pounding skin sends his mind spinning, and it only takes another particular strong squeeze of Osamu’s fist to have Atsumu cumming. He cums so hard he literally feels himself blacking out – feels the way every single nerve in his body explodes all at once. It takes him a moment to realise that the scream he hears is his own, and by the time he comes down again, his body doesn’t feel like it belongs to him. It’s as if every bone and muscle in his body has become lead – his brain melting out of his head – and Atsumu can do nothing but lie there as his eyes begin to droop. The last thing he sees before he completely blacks out is Osamu looking at him, tender eyes and soft smile as he brushes the hair out of Atsumu’s face. 

“You did so well, Tsumu.”