making out with iwaizumi turns into something more…
slight nsfw ; 839 words
The lamp flickered in the corner of your dimly lit apartment. Voices drifted from the TV, a random movie playing while you laid comfortably in your boyfriend’s arms. You and Iwaizumi had a routine of watching a movie together every Saturday evening, though most of the time you fell asleep before it ended.
Tonight was no different from the others. A large, fuzzy blanket draped over the two of you, the corners of it tucked underneath your body. Most of the warmth you were receiving was from Iwaizumi, whose body was constantly hot.
He had one hand in a bowl of popcorn, munching away during the film. His other arm was behind you, hand resting gently on your shoulder.
You shifted, leaning your head against his chest. You could never be close enough to Iwaizumi—you could have been inside his skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. You let your hand slowly drift down his body and onto his thigh, rubbing soft circles with your thumb onto the bare skin where his shorts ended.Â
His arm tensed around you, his fingers tightening their grip on your shoulder. “Y/N…”
“What?” you asked, faking innocence, already knowing what he was thinking.
“We’re meant to be watching a movie.” His head turned towards you, flashing you with a look of fake annoyance.
“This movie is terrible and we both know it. I saw you cringing at it earlier.”
“Whatever,” he scoffed, pretending to be unbothered. His hand drifted from your shoulder to your head, his fingers twirling a strand of hair as he spoke. “What do you suggest we do instead?”
“Now now, Hajime, don’t play dumb.” You tapped your fingers disapprovingly against his thigh.Â
“I’m not playing dumb, I just want to hear you use your words.”
“Shut up,” you said, pushing him back against the couch.
He grabbed your hand before you pulled it away, placing it against his cheek. “Make me.”
Leaning forward, you pulled his face towards yours, gently pressing your lips against his. You moved your hands down to his arms, fingers trailing over the biceps you liked so much. The kiss grew heated, fueled by the desire that had been building up inside of you all evening.Â
Iwaizumi slid his hands down to your hips, pulling your body onto his lap. You shifted, trying to find a comfortable way to sit, earning a groan from the man below you.
“You’re going to kill me, sweetheart,” Iwaizumi said, his voice low and gravelly. “Stop teasing.”
“I’m not.” You slid your fingers under the hem of his shirt, lightly tracing the skin of his abdomen. “Just trying to get comfortable.”
“I think we’d be a lot more comfortable without these on, don’t you agree?” Without another word, Iwaizumi pulled his shirt off. He took more time taking off your top, his touch lingering on your bare back before removing your bra.Â
“Why are you staring?”
“Because you’re so beautiful and perfect,” he mumbled, eyes fixed shamelessly on your chest. “May I…?”
In response, you guided his hands to your breasts, placing them over the soft flesh. You bit your lip when he squeezed, trying to prevent any embarrassing noises.
Iwaizumi reached a hand up to your face, dragging your lip out from between your teeth with his thumb. “Don’t do that, I wanna hear you.”
Without warning, he pinched your nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers, enticing an unexpected moan from you.Â
“That’s more like it.” He looked up at you, eyes clouded with a mixture of love and lust. “You make such pretty noises.”
You turned your flushed face away, hoping he wouldn’t see how embarrassed you were. Despite the amount of times you’d done this, Iwaizumi never failed to make you flustered.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom, you’ll be more comfortable there,” he said, picking you up and carrying you into the room.
He placed you onto the bed, climbing on top of you once your head hit the pillows. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pausing to ask for consent before pulling them off. As he fumbled to get his own pants off, his lips captured yours again in a frantic kiss.
“Hajime,” you moaned when he broke away, trailing wet, sloppy kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. You couldn’t help the noise that slipped out when he gently sucked on the soft flesh of your neck, leaving marks you were certain would last for days.
He sat back, taking a second to admire the array of marks he’d left on your skin. He moved his hands down to your waist, inhaling sharply when he pulled off your panties. “Holy shit, you’re soaked…”
You tried to cover your face, but Iwaizumi pulled your hands away, pinning them above your head with one hand. His other hand drifted downwards, sending shocks of pleasure through your body when his fingers touched your core.Â
“You’re already so wet, baby, it would be cruel to make you wait any longer.”
making out with iwaizumi turns into something more…
slight nsfw ; 839 words
The lamp flickered in the corner of your dimly lit apartment. Voices drifted from the TV, a random movie playing while you laid comfortably in your boyfriend’s arms. You and Iwaizumi had a routine of watching a movie together every Saturday evening, though most of the time you fell asleep before it ended.
Tonight was no different from the others. A large, fuzzy blanket draped over the two of you, the corners of it tucked underneath your body. Most of the warmth you were receiving was from Iwaizumi, whose body was constantly hot.
He had one hand in a bowl of popcorn, munching away during the film. His other arm was behind you, hand resting gently on your shoulder.
You shifted, leaning your head against his chest. You could never be close enough to Iwaizumi—you could have been inside his skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. You let your hand slowly drift down his body and onto his thigh, rubbing soft circles with your thumb onto the bare skin where his shorts ended.Â
His arm tensed around you, his fingers tightening their grip on your shoulder. “Y/N…”
“What?” you asked, faking innocence, already knowing what he was thinking.
“We’re meant to be watching a movie.” His head turned towards you, flashing you with a look of fake annoyance.
“This movie is terrible and we both know it. I saw you cringing at it earlier.”
“Whatever,” he scoffed, pretending to be unbothered. His hand drifted from your shoulder to your head, his fingers twirling a strand of hair as he spoke. “What do you suggest we do instead?”
“Now now, Hajime, don’t play dumb.” You tapped your fingers disapprovingly against his thigh.Â
“I’m not playing dumb, I just want to hear you use your words.”
“Shut up,” you said, pushing him back against the couch.
He grabbed your hand before you pulled it away, placing it against his cheek. “Make me.”
Leaning forward, you pulled his face towards yours, gently pressing your lips against his. You moved your hands down to his arms, fingers trailing over the biceps you liked so much. The kiss grew heated, fueled by the desire that had been building up inside of you all evening.Â
Iwaizumi slid his hands down to your hips, pulling your body onto his lap. You shifted, trying to find a comfortable way to sit, earning a groan from the man below you.
“You’re going to kill me, sweetheart,” Iwaizumi said, his voice low and gravelly. “Stop teasing.”
“I’m not.” You slid your fingers under the hem of his shirt, lightly tracing the skin of his abdomen. “Just trying to get comfortable.”
“I think we’d be a lot more comfortable without these on, don’t you agree?” Without another word, Iwaizumi pulled his shirt off. He took more time taking off your top, his touch lingering on your bare back before removing your bra.Â
“Why are you staring?”
“Because you’re so beautiful and perfect,” he mumbled, eyes fixed shamelessly on your chest. “May I…?”
In response, you guided his hands to your breasts, placing them over the soft flesh. You bit your lip when he squeezed, trying to prevent any embarrassing noises.
Iwaizumi reached a hand up to your face, dragging your lip out from between your teeth with his thumb. “Don’t do that, I wanna hear you.”
Without warning, he pinched your nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers, enticing an unexpected moan from you.Â
“That’s more like it.” He looked up at you, eyes clouded with a mixture of love and lust. “You make such pretty noises.”
You turned your flushed face away, hoping he wouldn’t see how embarrassed you were. Despite the amount of times you’d done this, Iwaizumi never failed to make you flustered.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom, you’ll be more comfortable there,” he said, picking you up and carrying you into the room.
He placed you onto the bed, climbing on top of you once your head hit the pillows. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pausing to ask for consent before pulling them off. As he fumbled to get his own pants off, his lips captured yours again in a frantic kiss.
“Hajime,” you moaned when he broke away, trailing wet, sloppy kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. You couldn’t help the noise that slipped out when he gently sucked on the soft flesh of your neck, leaving marks you were certain would last for days.
He sat back, taking a second to admire the array of marks he’d left on your skin. He moved his hands down to your waist, inhaling sharply when he pulled off your panties. “Holy shit, you’re soaked…”
You tried to cover your face, but Iwaizumi pulled your hands away, pinning them above your head with one hand. His other hand drifted downwards, sending shocks of pleasure through your body when his fingers touched your core.Â
“You’re already so wet, baby, it would be cruel to make you wait any longer.”
Ever since middle school you’d strived for perfection, for high grades and test scores.
Meeting Tsukishima Kei did nothing to fix your constant perfectionism, instead making it worse.
He was just so aggravating.Â
He always knew exactly how to get under your skin, knew which words to use to annoy you, like he had an instruction guide on how to piss you off.
It was no surprise when he came sauntering up to you, holding the test your class had gotten back in his hand.
“Let me guess, you’re here to brag?” you stated sarcastically, waiting for an onslaught of snarky comments.
“Not bragging, simply telling the truth.”
“The truth?” You raised a brow.
“That I’m better than you,” he said, placing his test on your desk. “98%, beat that.”
A small smile grew on your lips as you flipped over your paper, revealing the score written in bright red ink.
“99%.”
His smirk dropped, the previous joy on his face gone. “Well you still didn’t get 100, off by one percent.”
“And you lost to me by one percent. Does it sting, Tsukishima?”
“Shut up.” He walked off, leaving you with the glory of victory.Â
This was the first time you’d beaten him in a month. Everything between the two of you was a competition—tests, quizzes, even who got to class first. Not a day passed without Tsukishima insulting you.
You hated it, but in some ways the banter was fun. It made boring school days entertaining,Â
The bell rang, echoing through the school. Lunch, finally.
You shoved your things into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder before rushing out of the classroom.Â
There he was. Your boyfriend. Waiting outside your class for you like always.
“Babe, guess what!” you exclaimed.
“What?”
You raised your test triumphantly, pointing to your grade. “I got 99%! I finally beat Tsukishima.”
Instead of the happiness you expected, your boyfriend’s face went dark. “Why do you always talk about that guy if you supposedly hate him? You never fucking shut up about him, it’s driving me insane.”
“What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice starting to shake.
“I’m done with this. You talk about that Tsukishima guy more than me, even though I’m your boyfriend.” His expression was full of anger, the face you loved twisted with hate. “You should just go date him instead. We’re done.”
He turned and walked down the hall. He just left you standing there. He left.
Your heart shattered, the broken shards pierced your insides, filling you with indescribable pain. Tears built behind your eyes, threatening to fall, but you couldn’t cry. Not there.
You pushed through the crowd, searching for somewhere where you could be alone, where you were free to cry in peace.
Blinded by pain, you didn’t notice a tall blond boy watching you from across the hall. His eyes were locked onto you as you entered an empty classroom.
You sealed the rest of the world off behind the door to the class. You sat on the floor, leaning your head against the wall. It wasn’t long before your tears burst free, flowing down your face in streams.
Minutes passed, the sound of your sobs cutting through the deafening silence.Â
Then the door creaked open, startling you out of your sadness.
There, in the doorway, stood Tsukishima.Â
You hurried to wipe away your tears, scrubbing at your face with the end of your sleeve. You had to maintain your image of perfection. No one could see you fall, especially not him.Â
Tsukishima entered, closing the door behind him. It was just you two, cut off from the others outside.
“Go away,” you sneered at him. You knew he’d never let you live this down.
You expected an insult, a snarky comment, not for him to walk closer. He sat down next to you, still not saying a word. Why wasn’t he saying anything?
“What do you want, Tsukishima,” you said, deciding to break the unbearable silence. “I’m really not in the mood for this.”Â
“I saw you and your boyfriend arguing,” he explained after a beat of silence. “Then you ran in here, and you looked… sad.”
He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall with a thud.Â
“So you decided to follow me?” You didn’t get it. Tsukishima was meant to hate you, so why was he there?
“I was curious. You’re always talking about how amazing your boyfriend is, so I wanted to know what happened.” There was a hint of sadistic teasing in his voice.
He wasn’t here because he cared, he just wanted to gloat.
But it wasn’t anger that you felt, it was disappointment.Â
“He broke up with me,” you found yourself explaining, even if he didn’t care.Â
“I always thought he was stupid, I mean he failed math last year. Imagine how surprised I was when I found out the smartest girl I know was dating him.”
His words echoed through your head.Â
“The smartest girl you know? Am I being praised by the Kei Tsukishima?” you taunt, still teasing him even when you were hurting.
“Shut up,” he said, but the corner of his lips twisted up ever so slightly.Â
A smile. He was smiling. Because of you.
Against all your better judgement, the line between hatred and affection blurred.
But did you ever really hate him? Or were you just rivals?
Things had been different between the two of you since then.Â
Instead of the usual insults and banter, it was stolen glances and soft smiles.
You weren’t sure how to feel about it all. You’d hated Tsukishima for as long as you’d known him, or at least, that’s what you thought it was.Â
This wasn’t the first time you’d questioned your relationship with him. You’d thought about it before, pondered about the way his smirk made your face warm. But you were still with your boyfriend then, and you refused to be unfaithful.
But he’d broken up with you. You no longer had a reason to shun your feelings. Now they were all you could think about, haunting your mind in the dark hours of night.
What did you really feel for Kei Tsukishima?
Hatred?
Love?
No, it couldn’t possibly be love. Right?
Questions upon questions circled your mind, swirling up a windstorm inside your head. It was impossible for you to focus on anything else, even your schoolwork.
It was unlike you to be unfocused in class, you were always studying, trying your hardest to understand new topics.
So why could you not listen to a single word your teacher said?
What was Tsukishima doing to you?
“You’ll have a quiz on this tomorrow, so make sure to study,” your teacher said at the end of class.
Shit.Â
Shit, shit, shit.
What were you going to do now? Teach yourself the entire topic in one night? Your teacher would only scold you if she knew.
But there was someone who could help, if you were brave enough to ask.
“Tsukishima,” you called, stopping him before he left.
“What do you want?” he scoffed.Â
“I… need your help studying for the quiz.”
“You need my help?” he asked, raising his brow suspiciously.
“Yes.”
“Yes what? I won’t help you if you don’t ask nicely.” His signature smirk spread across his lips.
“Yes, please,” you managed to force out, your eyes looking anywhere other than him.Â
* * *
“I don’t get it,” you repeated for the tenth time.
“Maybe you would if you actually listened to me instead of complaining,” Tsukishima sighed, pushing up his glasses.
You were beyond shocked when you got him to agree to help you, you half expected him to flat out say no. But to your surprise he agreed.
So there you were, in your bedroom after school, your textbooks strewn across your sheets.Â
“I am listening, you’re just bad at teaching,” you mumble, tilting your head as if that would make the work easier to understand.
“Here,” he said, pointing to the problem you were trying to solve. “You keep forgetting to multiply those.”
You cursed under your breath. “Why are there so many steps.”
“Just do the question and stop complaining, you’re giving me a headache.”
You chose to ignore his comment, focusing on the equation on your page. You’d gotten it wrong so many times you were starting to lose hope. Why did your math skills disappear when you needed them most?
“Oh, wait, I think I got it,” you exclaimed, flipping to the answer in the back of the book. “It’s correct, finally.”
“See, I told you it isn’t that hard,” Tsukishima said, a hint of pride in his voice.Â
“Maybe the quiz will be okay after all.” You smiled, your grin stretching from ear to ear. “Thank you, for helping me and everything.”
“Yeah, no problem.” His eyes locked on yours, staring at you as if you held the secrets of the universe.Â
“You’re staring,” you said, your own face flushing, but you didn’t care. You dared to shuffle closer on the bed, leaving only a foot of space between the two of you.
He looked away, the tips of his ears turning red. “Shut up.”
“Kei…” you whispered, your voice going soft.Â
He froze, his body turning rigid. “Don’t call me that.”
Your heart panged with rejection. “Oh, sorry.”
“I should leave.” He stood quickly, knocking a few papers onto the floor.
“What, no, Tsukishima—”Â
He grabbed his bag, shoving his things inside, before heading to the door. “Good luck tomorrow.”
With that, he left, not even giving you a chance to say goodbye.
* * *
What did you do wrong?Â
You replayed your conversation in your head over and over again, trying to find the mistake, trying to find something to explain why he ran away.
Did you misinterpret it all?Â
You knew that you no longer carried any dislike for Tsukishima, but what if he still hated you?
That would explain the way he froze that day and why he’s been avoiding you ever since. Your quiz passed in a blur, you barely even cared about it anymore.Â
Whenever you glanced in his direction, he looked away. If you stepped towards him, he walked the other direction. He was doing everything in his power to not talk to you.Â
Had you really messed up that badly?
Your mind was plagued as you entered the school library, hoping to find a good book to distract yourself with. It was easier to read about someone else’s problems than it was to deal with your own.
You walked down the aisle, scanning the shelves for something interesting. As you turned the corner, you were met with the sight of a familiar blond boy. He had his back turned, he hadn’t seen you yet.Â
This was your chance to apologize, to attempt to salvage what was left—if there was anything left at all.
“Tsukishima,” you said, approaching him.
He spun around, his eyes widening at the sight of you, stepping backwards.
“Please don’t go.” You stepped closer, daring him to run away again. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
“What?” he asked, his face twisting with slight confusion.
“I never meant to make you uncomfortable or cross your boundaries, I didn’t realize. I know I messed up, but I truly am sorry.”
“Y/N ,” he interrupted, but you ignored him, rambling on with your apology.
“I guess I was so caught up with my own feelings that I didn’t stop to consider yours, and for that I’m sorry.”
“Y/N.”
“I understand if you don’t want to forgive me, but I—”
“Y/N.” He stepped forward, gently grabbing your face to make you listen. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“What?” you murmur, your face heating up.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, not you.” He leaned closer, his palms warm against your cheeks. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable in the slightest. I ran away because… I was scared.”
“Really?” You laugh with disbelief.
“Yes, really.” His lips were mere centimetres away from yours now, and by the look in his eyes you could tell it was taking every bit of strength in him to not kiss you.
But you wanted him to.
You closed the gap, softly planting your lips against him. He froze for a second before melting into the kiss, his hands moving from your face down to your waist.
When you broke away, it was with a smile.Â
What was once rivalry had changed into something much different, not that you were complaining.Â
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