Various! Characters x Reader | Oneshots

Asahi Azumane x reader | riled up (drabble, nsfw-ish)

Anime: Haikyuu
Point Of View: 2nd
Title: Riled up
Description: (drabble, nsfw-ish)
Karasuno's ace is known for his glass heart. Enticing him takes a little work but in your eyes it's well worth it.
. . .
"Asa-hi," you mewl out.

Your needy boyfriend growls in response, lips attacking your sensitive neck. His hands grip firm on your thighs, keeping your legs wrapped tight around his waist as he fumbles to find the doorway to the bedroom. Your arms wind around his neck in an effort to gain some sort of stability in contrast to his hasty movements.

Before you realize it he's stripped you of your thin t-shirt—lips making contact to your bare collarbone. You loved when he was like this. After grueling matches your boyfriend would show a side of himself he very rarely let out. Which you reveled in. You have always encouraged the bashful male to let loose during your more intimate activities—despite his misgivings.

Asahi Azumane is the type to need constant affirmation before delving into something new. The poor boy is too cautious of his own strength, well aware of his size compared to yours. He loves you more than anything else in the world—he'd never forgive himself if he ended up hurting you. Thus Asahi's natural timidness often leaves you to be the one to take initiative. He'll do anything it takes to satisfy you, and although he's anxious about what you may suggest he's willing to try—with much reassurance from you.

The sudden sensation of your back colliding against the wall sends a yelp tumbling from your lips. "S-sorry..." The male lets out a sheepish chuckle. The grip on your thighs loosens a bit and the flushed look on his face gives away that he's flustered by his fervor.

If this boy only knew what he was doing to you right now.

"Please—oh god keep going," you plead as you take his face in your hands, crashing your lips onto his. Asahi responds with a groan, eager to reciprocate the heated kiss, wasting no time in allowing your tongue to slip past his lips.

Your fingers trail up the sides of his neck, intertwining themselves within his restrained chestnut locks. It takes a mere tug to pull the band out—strands falling to his shoulders. A repressed moan tumbles from his lips as you rake your fingers through his hair.

"On the bed," he commands, eyes dark with desire.

With those words you are certain you're in for a long night—but who were you to complain?