Can I request smth? Of course take as much time as you need with this!
But since I saw that you take request for koby I literally SCRUMMED so hard the walls echoed my screams of joy
So ermmm a little self projection but koby x reader whose a FULL MAJOR SIMP FOR HIM I mean EVER SINCE HE WAS A LOSER (I love him AND his past self where he didn't have a glow up 🫶😍) and would rant to her friends about it and practically everyone knows it BUT when she actually has a conversation with him she literally would rather drop dead than have a "hi" and "hello" interaction with him— SHE CAN'T HANDLE IT, HER HEART MIGHT EXPLODE
Hehe I can't help but wonder what her reaction might be when she finds out he likes it too (she might actually pass out)
- LOVE 🫧 anon (if it's not taken)
TONGUE TIED .ᐟ.ᐟ
──★ synposis !!: talking about your love for Koby to the world? easy as pie. but coming face to face with him is a whole different ball game.
──★ pairings !!: koby x fem! reader
──★ tags !!: fan! reader, heavy pining, love at first sight, slight crack-fic, humor, Koby being a sweetheart, reader being a loser for Koby, lots of fluff, does not follow main anime/manga plot whatsoever!!
──★ word count !!: 2.9k words !!
──★ extras !!: THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVEEEE. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST, KOBY MY LOVE YOUR UP BABY! LETS GET THIS PARTY STARTED
as a wise Usopp once said, you were suffering from severe "can't stop talking about Koby" disease.
it was no news to the rest of the crew that you were quite possibly his biggest fan.
"Koby looked so good on the newsletter!!" you'd squeal out, heart on your tongue and hugging the paper like it was the man himself. if it was, you were more than positive you'd be dead on the floor from living out your fangirl dreams.
this wasn't some cliche thing just because he had gotten more attractive through the years, no, absolutely not.
that little spark you carried so brightly for Koby had been there since day fucking one. even when the world laughed at him, calling him names for being so small and scrawny. it never mattered to you.
you loved him when he was nothing but another sad soul trying to become a marine.
you were practically his day one. even if you had never spoken to him.
a part of you wanted to watch the world burn for the chains of the government around the love between you two. after all, what good was a pirate fawning over a marine like Koby?
even so, you held the biggest middle finger to the chains, promising the snap them one day. it didn't matter to you; the love you held for Koby was stronger than anything else. you practically hoarded every single thing that had his name plastered on it without shame, hanging it up on the walls of your room like some sick shrine.
again, you did not care.
because you were Koby's biggest fan girl.
Luffy, your captain, seemed to shatter your entire world with a simple shrug of his shoulders. his finger was deep in his nose like he was digging for treasure, and as smoothly as you breathed for Koby's sake, his words came out.
"you might get a chance to see him, he called yesterday." Luffy drew out, brows tugged in concentration as he shoved his finger deeper into his finger. that had to have hurt, the captain was pretty much knuckles deep by this point. "said he wanted to say hi while he could."
Luffy was without a care to the news. "or somethin,"
"i don't remember." but you? oh lord have mercy.
your mouth parted slightly, slow and deliberate. eyes wide, still very much hugging the newsletter of him to your chest, and with a slow shake of your head; you screamed so loud Zoro snapped awake from his nap, swords drawn like there was an ambush.
there might as well have been, because the news singlehandedly cracked the walls of reality for you. with stars in your eyes, you booked it to your room, preparing every single thing for the second the Straw Hats landed on the next island on route.
you spend an entire day. a full 24 hours making sure everything was perfect.
now, you very well knew that you might not even see him. after all, a marine mingling with pirates? that would crush his entire reputation. but the very thought made you swoon with a giggle so mischievous it put most pirates to shame. as if he was breaking the rules just to see you, even though that wasn't the case whatsoever.
Koby did not know you existed, not like how you waited every day for the sight of him on those stupid newsletters. newsletters you had a habit of swiping like a hoarder who didn't know how to let things go. newsletters you swore you'd beg your captain to have him sign under the pretext that Luffy wanted something to remember him with on his journey.
Luffy would do that for you, right?
nodding, you concluded that your captain would totally come in clutch.
and so, you had spent the entire day before you reached the island getting things in preparation. those newsletters? taken. every single one. you had a stack of them, almost the perfect size of you. your outfit? prepared with the greatest care you could imagine.
sure, your closet was a mess, but it was worth it.
even if you didn't speak to him or see him; you would be content just knowing you were in the same vicinity as Koby. you would not let this perfect gift from god pass. no way in hell.
you were so used to being able to ramble your friends ears off about Koby, questions Luffy had repeated with a laugh to the stars in your eyes at soaking up any bit of information to his friend. stories Luffy, Nami, and Zoro chuckled out when they first met him.
to you, those were always the best. it let you know about Koby before his glow up, and in some fangirl way; you felt like you knew him like you did the back of your own hand.
talking about Koby was like second nature by this point, it truly and honestly was. there wasn't a day you didn't go rambling about your love for him, or how sweet he was, or the way his voice sometimes cracked mid sentence that only added to his charm.
sure, people would say you were insane for choosing to be a fangirl of a marine rather than literally anyone else, but they didn't know Koby like you did. you were so enthralled by him, his heart of gold that made yours stir so happily in your chest, the small laughs you had seen on tv when he showed up to a battle that made your face blow up in steam. or the way he would nervously shy away when the cameras did point to him, how he'd awkwardly giggle while a bead of sweat slipped passed his brow.
you practically jumped in your spot, skipping along your way as you went to check out the shops the island you had stopped by on had to offer. you were holding his newsletter, his smile so cute you swore your tongue would fall off if you didn't start talking about him soon.
like a curse, every day without fail, you talked about Koby.
not because you wanted to, well- maybe that too. however, it was mainly because if you didn't, it felt like your soul would just up and leave your body. it was a want and need all at once. a curse you were happy had chosen you to torment.
the Straw Hats had split up to do their own things, and you had opted to go alone this time. mainly because you were scared if you stayed with another member, you would somehow run into the man of yours dreams.
a dream and nightmare all at once.
sure, talking about him was easy. as easy as breathing for you.
but talking to him?? there was no way you could.
you had put in so much effort to making sure you looked okay, just in case you know? but that didn't mean you actually wanted to come face to face with your idol and embarrass yourself. you just knew, knew that if Koby ever ran into you, your tongue would tie in on itself and there would be no hope of ever recovering.
just the thought made your heart leap in your chest, strangling itself with the rope of 'Koby obsession' as you smiled so wide you were sure your face would split in two. with a pep in your step, and a smile so big the merchants wondered what made a girl as cute as you so happy, you promised yourself to enjoy just being in the same area as your idol.
you were safe, no hope of embarrassing yourself and ruining all chances at anything with Koby.
then, your feet moved too fast and suddenly you were planting face first against a sturdy chest that smelled so good you were sure it was some kind of aphrodisiac made just for you. how could someone smell so good and be strong enough to feel every muscle beneath their clothes with just a touch. you winced, quickly stammering to hold your weight off him.
"im so sorry! i didn't look where i was going, and i promise," you nervously let out, face flushed from embarrassment. "ill treat you to something for the trouble. are your clothes dirty, oh my god-" you nervously laughed out. looking every direction to make sure Koby wasnt somehow around because that would seriously put you six feet under.
bright patterned bandanna, flower prints on them that were so cute you wanted to die. worn tied across his forehead, and purple round glasses you had called adorable so many times it was now an inside joke between the Straw Hats.
and suddenly, you were no longer safe.
screw the mortifying idea that Koby would see. this was worse. much, much worse.
this was the end of the world as you knew it.
he rubbed the side of his head softly, wincing with a smile that made your heart leap into your throat and eyes, putting even Sanji to shame. and that was saying something.
Koby gave a soft laugh, shaking his head as he peeked up at you. "no, its alright! don't worry about it at all.." he breathed out, words losing their strength as his eyes widening to the sight in front of him.
your face was red, lips turned into a painful smile and a sweat breaking out on you that somehow made you look prettier. Koby froze, breath shooting right back into his lungs as your hair framed your face from above him. you were pushing yourself up slightly from him, leaning on your hands to cushion the position.
you were still on top of him, and more than that, you looked like you were going to evaporate any second.
Koby felt the shift, eyes locked onto you with the world blurring into nothing but you. you blinked, and he swore he felt his heart jump start to life to the sight of you. you laughed, but it anything but smooth. anxious, nervous, as if you were trying to speak but nothing would come out.
unbeknownst to him, your mind had officially killed itself off.
Koby didn't see you embarrass yourself from the position of an onlooker, no, the world was never that nice to you. even though it really should have, because come on. had the world even seen your face? you could do no wrong!
the man of your dreams had watched you embarrass yourself. he had you tumble into him from your own excitement at the thought of him, throwing the both of you to the floor without mercy, and now had the unfortunate sight of you losing your mind on top of him.
unfortunate for you, but for Koby?
Koby felt like maybe Helmeppo was right.
there was a girl out there that existed from his dreams.
you watched his mouth part in slow motion, your face twisting in horror because if Koby started talking now- you would blow it. truly, you did not think you were capable of even making a crushed out wheeze come from your mouth.
your tongue had done the one thing you prayed it wouldn't.
the stupid thing tied in on itself. coward.
he stood first, helping you up gently and giving you a smile you had basically dreamed about for so long you pinched yourself. you felt the dull sting, and your hands froze right by your side.
"you aren't hurt are you?" his cheeks were warm, Koby knew it. he could feel it after all, the same warmth that made his heart weigh heavy in his chest at the dumbfounded look on your face. he faltered for a second, eyes searching yours desperately.
you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Koby wanted to wither away. there was no way he had crashed into his dream girl, just for her to not think he was attractive. Koby swallowed hard, hands suddenly clammy to your silence, and you discreetly peeked up at him before staring at the ground like it just insulted you.
the air between you was tight. painstaking, suffocating, and so awkward your skin was started to prick in embarrassment. he let out a breath, the sound making you jump, and he gave you a sad apology that made your mouth twitch into a smile.
he was so much cuter in person.
you clenched your hands into fists, shaking as if trying to hold a dog too excited for its own good. your eyes scanned the floor, and you flinched at the newsletter of him by his foot.
dont look dont look! god- DONT LOOK KOBY!
slowly, his eyes trailed to where you were drilling holes at, and his face met him from the floor. you froze, mouth slacked open and a smile that practically leaked out 'GUILTY' in all caps to him. he bent down to pick it up, his ears bright red and you melted to the floor in a shameless puddle of a love stricken fangirl.
this day could not get worse. please, god, don't let it get worse.
you felt your feet take a step back, a weak wheeze coming out that sounded close to a whistle. Koby stood, newsletter in hand and you wanted to both carve the sight into your mind for all eternity and disappear from the world all at once.
his face was red, matching your own and you could already see the stream coming from the air around you two. merchants were passing by like nothing had happened, but there was a small group hidden away, giggling to themselves like it was the funniest sight to behold.
things seemed to click into place, and Koby gave out a soft laugh that made your heart squeeze painfully tight in your chest. "so you're the girl Luffy sent me to get." your eyes widened to that, horror and fascination mixing into a potent stare that made Koby go nervous.
slowly, and very awkwardly at that, you dumbly nodded like that was your only means of communication. you almost died when his hand caught into yours, his other settling the newsletter that already sat signed into your palm. your eyes practically popped out of your skull, because when the hell did he even sign it?
your entire body felt like lightning had just struck it, and Koby felt like he had just found the most precious thing to grace this earth. even if you hadn't really said a word to him, just wheezes that sounded like you were dying, and nods that were so stiff he swore you were a robot; Koby thought it was cute. more than that, actually.
your hand shakily came to tuck the newsletter into your bag, where Koby saw the rest of them with a quick chuckle that made your skin prickle in love. "if its not too forward," he started, and you melted to the sight of his hand coming to hold the back of his neck. a shy smile you had only ever seen on the screens right in front of you now, with a strong blush on his cheek that made you feel just the bit relieved you weren't the only one nervous here.
"would it be alright if i treat you to some food?" he whispered out, his eyes turning to meet your own widened ones as you clutched your hands against your bag like a safety net. you felt the air in you get knocked out in a single question, your smile widening and making the nerves settle in Koby.
that was good right, if you were smiling that must have meant you found him at least the smallest bit attractive. "just the two of us?" if Koby thought you were cute through all that, you would never know the way his heart practically carved your name into itself at the sound of your voice.
it was sweet, riddled with nerves but so sure it left no room to second guess. the kind of voice Koby would no doubt carry with him when a battle got tough, like a lifeline to what was good in this world, Koby nodded quickly. smiling nervously as he walked next to you, he memorized the way your steps carried such an energetic bounce to them. the same kind of energy that had pulled you to him even when you were scared to, and the same one Koby silently admired next to you.
"i never got your name," he started, and you blinked next to him, gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you let out a nervous laugh. "its y/n," you nodded, smiling so hard it was starting to hurt. Koby paused for a second, pulling the walk into a calm stop before he blinked at you like you had grown two heads.
you tilted your head, and you felt eros kick your ass to the ground. "you're perfect." you were sure the very same god you thanked for Koby's existence was laughing their ass off this very moment. steam shot from your ears, face red and Koby watched you tumble to the ground without a fight.
as stiff as the second he saw you, smiling hard with your eyes closed as he merely caught you from reaching the ground with ease.
to be fair, Koby meant to say. 'you have a beautiful name' but love was never that easy. especially when it fell into a love at first sight category. and so, Koby gave a laugh as he carried you towards your ship. the food could wait, after all, he had two weeks with you to spend.
he had waited years to meet the girl of his dreams, and now that he did, Koby didn't mind waiting a day or two for her to recover from the sudden pass out to his words.
➳ categories: modern au, established relationship
➳ warnings: nsfw (top koby, virgin koby, bottom reader, afab reader, koby has wild fantasies, making out, fingering, oral, penetration)
➳ word count: 7k
➳ summary: You're Koby's first at everything, so naturally, he has the wildest fantasies about you.
➳ PART ONE | PART TWO | FANART (please everyone HAS to see this. credits to @mibso)
➳ cross-posted on ao3
When you wake up, Koby is sprawled on the floor.
He's in an inconvenient position: legs entangled with the sheets, pillow a few inches away from his head. He's sleeping on his side with his arms and legs stretched out, and in all honesty, it's a ridiculous sight. But this is what he gets for turning down the offer to sleep on your bed the night before, leaving him with a stack of blankets and a couple of pillows on the ground.
You quietly hop off your bed and crouch beside him. His clothes are ruffled and his hair is thrashed around like a mess, both evident signs of a good night's sleep. But his breathing is somewhat uneven, his eyebrows are creased together, and he's forming a scowled look that should never come by when you're asleep. As you watch him, his fingers twitch and his lips part open.
Suddenly, he gasps.
You're taken aback. It was a soft light sound, something you would have missed if you weren't paying close attention, but the morning silence was on your side and you heard it perfectly. And what you heard almost sounded... sexual. Like your boyfriend is currently dreaming of something that he shouldn't be dreaming.
"Please... please do it."
You don't know what to make of the next few seconds. Before you know it, Koby lets out a few other sounds, ones inherently obscene, while his face contorts between expressions. As he does, you watch him intently, frozen and unknowing what to do.
When he moans your name softly, that's when you smile.
So he's thinking of you. Great. This is your first time witnessing him fidget while dreaming and it's not pure by any means. The soft sounds that pass through his lips prove just that. You wonder whether Koby thinks of you like this on the regular or he was just unluckily caught him in the middle of a wet dream, but whichever one it is, you're glad to have witnessed it.
With every passing second, his breathing becomes even more uneven. His face blushes pink. You look down at his torso, hot and stiff, until you see him printed on his pajamas.
"It's okay. You can give it to me anytime."
And just like that, you remember what happened last night. The urge to throw yourself at him for the first time bare naked still sits at the pit of your stomach. It's still there, and it's carnal, especially now that you're witnessing him wriggle on your floor to the thought of you.
You want to do it. Now, without holding back. It's easy for you to get yourself wet when you're in the presence of your boyfriend and his obvious morning wood, and the last time you offered to blow him out of pure sexual desire, he told you that anytime was okay. But you're rethinking your decision now, and is it really worth a shot?
Koby rolls on his back and you can see him even clearer. He's hard and poking through the fabric like he wants you to do it, like he's calling your name. And he literally does as he vocalizes another moan, more akin to a whimper, this time around.
Your name sounds good when he says it that way. It's breathless, it's airy, and it rolls off his tongue just right. You're tempted to bite the bait, just do what your heart says it wants to do, but your brain takes over and you shake your head. Frustratedly. Koby is a virgin and you aren't exactly a world expert at sex. He gave you permission, but you possibly can't blow him when you're fucking nervous. He's going to freak out, and chances are, you will, too.
So maybe you should give it time.
And you do, because you slip out of your room right after that, leaving Koby to wake up minutes later with a huge problem in his pants.
A week later, Koby is invited to Helmeppo's bougie birthday party, which ends up being hosted at a nightclub that his father owns.
"We own many clubs. This is one of the two in this city," he told Koby once, and the pink-haired man never forgot about it since then. Koby never went to clubs (he always found them overstimulating), and Helmeppo knew that. So when he showed signs of refusal, his best friend assured him with an arm slung across his shoulder that he could bring a plus one.
That leads to where you are now. You're in the best clubbing fit you can muster because Koby decided he can't do this thing alone. It's his first time going to one—"I don't blame you, there's a first for everything," you said to him—and if he was going to spend the night with someone other than his friends, it would be you. Also, having you there saves him the trouble of explaining his whereabouts. He knows for a fact that some girlfriends don't appreciate their boyfriends going out to wherever without a warning, and while you're not exactly like that, he'd rather let you know.
Since Helmeppo is the star of the night, he's busy entertaining the many guests he's invited over that he ends up leaving Koby alone with you. "Wouldn't want to interrupt your night anyway," he says to you both. The club has been sectioned off so that his guests stay at the balcony, but he gives you permission to wander as you please.
With that, you end up tugging Koby to the dance floor below. You tease him when the music transitions to a famous pop song, clenching his hands with yours and busting out a flirtatious twirl on your heel. Koby just watches, more amazed than ashamed that he doesn't dance as well as you do, until he's smiling like a dork because his heart is just full of you.
When you're back at the balcony, he's sipping on a strawberry mojito. Since he realized that he can drink whatever alcohol he likes without spending a dime, he ordered a drink with an ABV that he can tolerate. Thank you, Helmeppo.
"It's not as bad as I expected," says Koby through a long sip of his drink. Really, he's telling the truth. Everything in the area just seems so rich and bougie, like everyone who walks by knows that he doesn't belong there at all. So he was expecting much worse when he arrived, but it's been normal so far, which he's thankful for.
You sip on a cute mocktail you saw the bartender serving earlier. "Ditto. I don't go out either, but I was expecting worse. Just a bit overstimulating, though." Case in point, the DJ raises the volume of an EDM track he's mixing with a 2000's classic, and you wince at the sound.
Moments later, Hibari swings by with Grus and a guy you haven't seen before, his pink hair and glasses piquing your interest. Pointing a thumb behind her shoulder, she says to Koby, "It's Helmeppo. We got an emergency."
Koby glances at you. You let him wander off with the group as you proceed to the bar below after a few words of safety. When you squeeze past sweaty bodies and make it to the bar, you're welcomed by an unwanted guest.
"Hey, I'm Drake."
As soon as you sit down on a bar stool, you're greeted by a man a couple of years older than you. He has gelled red-brown hair and cerulean blue eyes and he dons a navy blue jacket with a pair of matching skinny jeans. He offers you his hand, but you stare at it blankly.
Mentally, you sigh. Clearly, you're about to be hit on, which you aren't in the mood for, but you don't want to be discourteous since you're Helmeppo's guest and it wouldn't reflect well on his family business if you start an altercation. So you suck it up and shake his hand while you patiently wait for your drink to arrive. "Drake", as he claims to be called, sits on the stool beside you and tries his luck to get into your pants.
"Could I get you something to drink?" he asks.
You look at him. You can't start a fight, but you can play nice. "You own the place?"
"Nah, just a regular. I know the place and the people, so I'm pretty sure you're new." A red buzzer sounds instantly in your head. He's a regular? No. Objectively not your type. "We have a tradition around here to buy newcomers a drink, so I think I should get you something nice."
Talk about alarming. You aren't the smartest person in the world, but you weren't born yesterday. This is the oldest trick in the book and you aren't liking it one bit. Where the heck is Koby?
Unconsciously, you look back up at the balcony where you should see your boyfriend with Helmeppo, but you see him cozying up with a blond girl in a ponytail. A blond girl who you know. Your eyebrows knit together.
Hibari?
Directing your attention back to Drake, you take a mental note of what you just saw and offer the guy across you a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks... but I'm good."
"Alright then," he says. Just when you think it's over, he hops off the stool, turns around, and leans his weight on the counter so that he's showing off his wide shoulders and height. "You from around here though?"
You groan internally. Forget about expecting worse—this experience by far is the worst. You don't go out often, but you didn't think nightclubbers were terrible at reading the room. You wonder just how spineless you look to these people.
"Nope, just traveling. Tourist," you lie through your teeth.
"Ah, cool, so do you—"
Suddenly, the bartender pushes an alcohol free mocktail toward your way. You heave a sigh of relief and plunge a metallic straw through your drink. Drake chuckles deeply, pushing his hands down his pockets.
"Guess you didn't it at all."
"Yep." As you take a long sip, you turn around and see Koby approaching the bar, his pink hair almost glowing like a halo from a distance. He's drowning in a sea of strangers, but his eyes are trained on you and only you. For a moment, what you saw at the balcony didn't matter. "Looks like my boyfriend's here, too."
"Boyfriend?" Drake mumbles under his breath. He looks at what—who—you're looking at and nods to himself bitterly. "Figures."
The moment Koby reaches you, his body is tensed. He immediately looks at Drake, but politely looks away and allows you to entangle his arm with yours.
"Enjoy the night," you tell the guy before you pull Koby into the dancing crowd, your hand over your open glass to avoid spillage. As you sway to the rhythm of the music, Koby leans close to you and snatches the glass from your hands.
"Who was that?" he asks. He tries to sneak another look at the guy, but he glances away the moment he realizes that he's still looking.
"Some guy who wanted to buy me a drink," you tell him.
Your boyfriend's face twists into panic. He looks down at the glass in his hands. "What?! He didn't actually buy you one, did he?"
You shake your head. "Of course not! I turned him down and watched the bartender make it." Koby exhales deeply. You embrace him. "Hey, I've been drinking mocktails all evening, so you can count on me to make sober decisions. I should be looking after you. Are you drunk?"
"I had a glass of mojito," he confesses.
"Are you tipsy?"
He shakes his head. "No. I couldn't taste the alcohol."
Elbowing him gently, you tease, "Manning up, I see. Never knew you could tolerate alcohol like that."
He laughs. "I don't. I just didn't drink much."
The night flies by quickly. Before you know it, the clock strikes two in the morning as reminded by your preset alarm going off in the effort to snap you back to reality. The club hasn't died down one bit, but Helmeppo and his friends have. Much of his guests have dispersed through the venue with the birthday boy himself snoozing away with a bottle of Jack on the VIP couches, while you and Koby are awake and sober next to him. When you show the first signs of restlessness, Koby takes the initiative to call the night over and leaves Helmeppo under Grus' trusty care.
The next thing you know, you're in a taxi en route to your apartment. Koby is beside you fighting off his exhaustion. The campus has closed thanks to its curfew policy, so he can't sneak back into his dorm even if he tries. Thankfully, you're there to help.
Back at your apartment, you're changing out of your clothes when Koby's phone rings. He looks away from you.
"Who's calling?" you ask.
"Helmeppo," he says. "Let me take it."
The caller turns out to be Hibari. She apparently lost her phone somewhere in the club and didn't realize it was missing until she was about to leave, so she fetched for Helmeppo's phone and contacted him. Koby helps her ring it a few times until she finds it stuck in between the sofa cushions a few minutes later.
"What was that about?" you chime from behind. Koby spins around to see you in just your bra and sweatpants. He instinctively looks away until he realizes that he doesn't need to.
"Hibari lost her phone so she called with Helmeppo's," he explains, but you don't look pleased. Flashbacks flicker through your head in an instant and you feel your suspicions bubble in your stomach. "Is there... something wrong?"
"Really?" Koby blinks. Uh oh. That doesn't sound good. "She called you?"
Koby is starting to get nervous. "H-Hibari?"
"She was snuggling up to you back at the club." Your eyes narrow at him. "Don't you remember?"
Instead of sweating profusely, Koby just stands there, confused. He doesn't remember Hibari doing that and as far as he knows, he was sober the whole night, so he couldn't have possibly snuggled with another girl fully conscious. But he also couldn't have noticed it, which might be a problem.
"I-I don't remember. I'm sorry," he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "If it makes you feel better, Hibari has a boyfriend so I know she wouldn't try anything on me."
Your eyes light up. "She does?"
Koby nods. He tells you that the boyfriend in question was at Helmeppo's party earlier that evening.
"Oh my god— no way. You're telling me her boyfriend was that guy? Pink hair and glasses?"
"Yeah. Forgot his name though. You might have mistaken him for me," he says. He thinks you're done getting jealous, but you still look perturbed. "Are... are you okay?"
"Well, I know it wasn't you who I saw with her, but I can't stop thinking of the fact that her boyfriend looks like my boyfriend."
Koby laughs.
"What?"
Hugging him tightly, you lean your head on his chest. "Her boyfriend has pink hair. Light pink, like yours. He wears glasses. Circular ones, like yours. Plus, he's around the same height as you. All he's lacking is your green bandana and he'd totally look like a discount version of you!"
Koby can't help but laugh. You have a point. He sees the resemblance between him and Hibari's boyfriend, but he wishes you aren't too mad about it. Hibari used to like him but he rejected her immediately. And while you aren't apprehensive about the thought of them sharing classes and hanging out with the same people, you still have your worries whenever she gets too close.
"She even called you just to look for her phone when there are, like, a hundred other strangers at the club who can help her look for it." You frown. "I want to bet that she still wants you."
Koby shakes his head. He rubs a comforting hand on your back, careful to avoid your bra strap. "I-I guess so, but I would run to you and only you. I never liked her anyway."
You look up at him. Koby looks down. You're fully leaning on him now, all your weight supported by his body.
"You only like me?"
"I only love you," he corrects. He ruffles your head, and just to solidify that thought, he leans down further to kiss you.
With that, you kiss him back. Koby responds to it quickly. His lips move in sync with yours as his eyes flutter close. The kiss is slow, sweet, and gentle, but as you keep it that way, he can't help but recall last week's events, the last time you kissed him at your apartment. When you were on top of him. When you were driving him crazy on your fourth month together. Now that you're in his arms again, he wonders what could've happened that night had your mother not interrupted, and if you could possibly continue where you both left off tonight.
You stay in his arms for a while until you're standing again and kissing back with more intention. When Koby doesn't expect it, you back him into a wall and flip your positions over so that he's got you cornered.
"I'm tired of just kissing you," you mumble in between his lips. "I want more of you."
Koby blushes furiously, his ears turning pink in a matter of seconds. He keeps kissing you through your whispered wishes, giving you all that he can. Then suddenly, he remembers that you're nothing but stripped of your top. Temptation takes over him in that moment and he sneaks a quick peek at your bra—it's still hooked, unfortunately, but he sees your breasts just enough to have his mind spiraling.
In the middle of his lustrous thoughts, however, you ask, "You aren't drunk, are you?"
"Huh?" he whispers. He kisses you again. "No. Just tired."
"Okay. Good." You encircle your arms around his neck. "Then"—you sigh deeply—"then you can feel me just the way you want, right?"
You latch your lips on his neck and you pepper his exposed skin with slow sensual kisses. Koby tenses, his lungs collapse, and suddenly, he's breathless. When your hands move to hold his, he understands what you want.
"Touch me, please," you ask him sweetly, "please do."
At your behest, his hands slither around your waist only for you to move them further down your backside. Koby does what you say and roams his hands around your hips, then your ass when you force his hands lower. His face erupts into flames, so he feels you through your sweatpants reluctantly as he tries to make sense of the situation. But you pull him closer, and he feels himself press on your lower stomach. Koby moans, quiet but loud enough for you to hear, and once he turns into a mess—your mess—his hands are moving on their own, squeezing and caressing your ass until you're satisfied.
Your hands trace his arms until you're sliding them down his torso. You press one hand on the hem of his pants, and when he doesn't object, you palm him confidently. He gasps. You trace his dick with a sole finger and he squirms further, reacting with a harder squeeze on your ass.
You kiss him up his neck, a playful smirk dancing on your lips, and you wonder what he's thinking of. Somehow in some way, swiping Koby of his virginity is a pleasant thought, one that turns you on and drives you crazy. You want to see him begging for you and making pleasant noises in your ear all because he feels good and you feel good around him. It's a thought that you've always wanted to come true, and something tells you it's happening tonight.
You gently bite his earlobe. Koby gasps again, high-pitched and embarrassed, but he loves it. He's breathless and barely thinking when you whisper into his ear, "Do you want me around you?" like it's a normal question to ask. Yet he tries with all his might to process it correctly, so he ends up saying "Yes," in a desperately shaky tone.
"Touch me first then," you reply, which he initially doesn't understand until you take his hand and guide them down your stomach, past the string of your sweats, and into your underwear. You lead his cautious fingers around your pants and let him feel you up, touch your pussy through the fabric, until he's moving his fingers on his own.
His face is fully flushed now, but he's nothing but satisfied. He teases your folds through your underwear and feels the heat of your cunt on his fingers, then he boldly decides to think fuck it and sweeps your panties to the side. He coats his fingers with your slick—hot, wet, and smooth—and rubs your lips with them, spreading your folds wider so he can slip in later on. Koby thinks back to his wet dreams where he imagined doing this to you over and over again and wonders if he's doing a good job now. He wants to ask, but his voice betrays him because he's pathetically scared of it. Yet you notice his conflicted emotions, and eventually pulling him closer, you whisper, "You feel good, keep going," which gives him the assurance that he's been waiting for.
Koby twists his wrists inside you and teases you rhythmically until he rakes your sweats. "Bed," you whisper, and together, you make a beeline for your bedroom where you strip for him, tugging your sweatpants and panties down your legs and unclasping your bra. Koby watches you from the edge of the bed with lust, takes in the sight of your tits and growing wetness, and decides to get rid of his shirt. You pull him on top of you and spread your legs wide for him. Koby brings his fingers back to your pussy, this time with much access, and observes your wetness while he plays with you.
When you're wet enough, he pushes his middle finger in your pussy and it slides in smoothly. "Is this okay?"
"Add another one," you beg through a moan, "please."
It doesn't take much to listen to you. Koby slides his ring finger next, and with two of them inside you, he moves them around, first at a slow safe pace, then second at a faster rhythmic pace that coaxes a low moan out of you. Koby knows he's doing well when your hands begin to claw at his bare chest, red and hot with sex flush, so he decides to quicken the pump of his fingers.
With every push inside you, he watches your pussy blossom for him. You take him so nicely, so wetly, so smoothly and with ease. Koby wishes it's his dick and he twitches in his pants, but he ignores it because if he ponders on it, if he thinks too hard, he's going to cum without you even touching him. And that would simply take the fun away.
Watching you stain his fingers lures Koby to fuck you faster, and with every moan, you buck your hips into his hand. He experimentally presses his other hand down on your lower stomach, adds some pressure that you find out you love, and boldly dives into you. You yelp as his tongue meets your pussy and flicks rapidly through your folds, collecting your wetness and tasting you without shame. Your hands fly to his hair, and you tug on it with his every lick. Koby whines into you but he doesn't stop. Instead he continues to eat you out like he'd always desired, his noises muffled in between your legs.
Shifting around the bed, he lays down on his chest and leans back into you. When you're close, Koby moves his lips to your clit and sucks on it. You throw your head back onto your pillows at the contact, and almost immediately, your legs close around his head. As you ride his tongue, Koby keeps your legs open with a strong hand on your thigh, but you respond with the placement of a loving hand on his cheek.
"I love that thing that you do," you encourage him. He looks up with glossy eyes. "Do it again."
"You mean this?" He flicks his tongue again on your clit and you moan. Really loudly, really sexually, and it's salacious enough that has him wondering how good he's doing just for you. When you nod vigorously, Koby takes it as a sign to repeat it again and again, with his fingers still pushing themselves into you but deeper than before.
He's so lost into you. Koby believes that he can probably do this to you everyday because you're just so amazing. Without even noticing it, he grinds down on your bed. He lets friction do its thing with his clothed dick and rocks himself back and forth in your sheets. He ruins himself the more he thinks about you, and when you moan his name desperately—"Koby, Koby, ugh, please"—he cums hard in his pants, so hard that he's whining and clawing at your body like crazy.
You finish on his tongue a few moments later, but you ride out your high until you're breathing normally. Koby does so, too, with his hips coming to a stop on the sheets. You look down at him. When he moves, he winces at the disgusting wetness in his pants, but he's too filled with pleasure to even care.
He falls on his side. He no longer has the energy to lift himself up or do anything else, so when you crawl next to him, all he does is look at you with hooded eyes. You're still naked, your nipples perked up and your pussy dripping with his spit, and it does look like you want to do more, but your gaze softens at him and he melts.
Unexpectedly, you rake your hands through his hair, kind of like a soft apology for tugging on them too much, and kiss him. You taste yourself in his lips, but you don't care. Your love overpowers whatever disgust you have for the mix of fluids on your tongues, because in that moment, in the quiet seconds you both spend just panting aloud, Koby is all you see and all you care about.
"Thank you," he hears you mumble in his ear, "I enjoyed that."
And suddenly, he's blushing again. Koby is too tired to find out whether or not he said "you're welcome" or "I love you", but whichever it is, you respond to it with a cute kissable smile that doesn't leave your face until you're pulling him into the bathroom to get changed.
Koby spends ten sleepy minutes in the bathroom before dressing himself and flopping on your bed.
He tries his hardest to stay awake, but before he knows it, he falls asleep quickly.
The next day, Koby is sitting on your couch. He's on his phone, watching a series of Instagram Reels that he can't seem to put down, while you're making breakfast for two.
When he woke up that morning, he decided he would cook for you because he felt bad for dozing off while you showered. To his dismay, you woke up the moment he did and got to your kitchen first. After fighting over the pan for three solid minutes, Koby gave up and let you do your thing.
And because you're doing your thing, you don't want to be disturbed. With that, Koby scrolls through Instagram, observing you from his peripheral vision and only looking up when he gets bored.
You serve him breakfast some time later. When you call him, Koby tucks his phone in his back pocket and rounds your island to pick a fork from the drawer. You cooked him an easy meal, something he can finish to keep himself full during this slow morning. And because he's thankful, he plants a soft kiss on your forehead.
"How romantic," you tease. You drop the spatula on the counter and charge at him with a kiss, but he gasps. Dramatically.
"Oh?" You back away. "Did I just hear some gasping?"
"No," he denies quickly. But there it goes again, only this time it's much louder and... sexual. Very sexual. "Um... I don't know why I did— shit."
Your eyebrows raise. "Koby."
"I can explain— fuck."
All of a sudden, his lower body feels weak. His knees shake and buckle. Koby leans forward on the counter with one hand across his stomach to support himself, and when a wave of emotions course through his body again, his head falls forward.
You place a hand on his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes close. Whatever he's feeling, it's strange. It's weird. But he doesn't want it to stop, because whatever is making him feel that way, feels undeniably good.
When he opens his eyes, that's when he realizes... he wasn't awake the entire time.
He'd been dreaming it all.
And he knows he was dreaming because all of a sudden, you're giggling softly.
This time, you're not in your kitchen. You're not in his dream. But you're in real life.
Koby looks around the room. When he feels some weight on his legs, he looks down, and to his surprise, you're on your knees before him. You're straddling his legs and your back is arched sensually as your head is tilted to the side. When he looks past you, he realizes that you're in nothing but a shirt, your bare ass out in the open for him to see.
And your mouth... well, to put it simply, your mouth is on him. On his dick. On his painfully hard dick that you managed to pull out of his pants while he was comfortably asleep. And as you slick him up with your wet tongue, your hand plays with him in a teasing manner, one that drives Koby crazy.
You're giving him head. But Koby doesn't register it in his mind because he doesn't believe that this is real life, and what is more realistic to him is the dream he just had, where you cooked him a loving meal before he started moaning for no fucking reason. Even when he shakes himself awake and adjusts his eyes to the morning light filtering through the curtains, he doesn't believe it.
So through his shock he asks, "W-what— what are you doing?"
You flatten your tongue on his dick. He groans softly. When he reacts, you decide to run your tongue up his shaft before responding, "Giving you head." He doesn't blink, doesn't even move. But you pump him a few times and you have him wrapped around your finger. "Do you like it like that?"
"I-I— ngh." Koby decides that he's in hell's paradise because his temptations are getting the best of him. He wants to grab onto something, maybe your shoulders or your head, but he's rethinking his decisions. You giggle. No, this can't be real. "Is this real?"
"Very much so, baby," you say, and as if to prove a point, you take his tip in between your lips. Koby whimpers. Blood rushes to his dick, he feels himself stiffen, and he closes his eyes shut because damn, your mouth feels good.
"How long have you been awake for?" he asks.
"Just a few minutes ago. I know you were dreaming of me." Koby blushes. That confirms it. "You were hard in your sleep."
"Y-yeah, I was," he confesses, "but I didn't—hah, shit—I didn't know you wake up early like this."
You giggle. "I mean"—you take his cock in for a few seconds before releasing him—"you were more exhausted than I was last night."
He nods weakly. Right. Last night. Last night when he first fucked you with his fingers for the first time before falling asleep like a baby. He should be ashamed for being more tired than you were, but his heart was about to leap out of his chest and he was too overwhelmed then. "O-kay."
"I figured I should give you a real orgasm to pay you back. And, you know, take care of you during a hard morning," you say with a grin on your lips. Koby watches you devilishly hit your face with his dick like the videos he's watched and imagined you two mimicking. His head falls back on the pillow. "Will you let me do that now, baby?"
As expected, he weakly nods and lets you. Koby relaxes his body on your bed, leaving his sleepy mind to deal with you and see where it goes from there. With his approval, you pull off his shorts before taking him in again. This time, you go deeper, allowing him to sink in your throat until you've taken all of him. Koby watches you through heavy eyelids, and when you bob your head up and down, he whines.
On the other hand, you're thrilled. Waking your boyfriend up like this was something you had been planning since you caught him in the middle of a wet dream. You knew that Koby wouldn't wake even if you slid on top of him because he was evidently tired from last night, so you did just that, undressing him with your teeth and pumping him in your fist as soon as you see his cock poking through his pants.
As you work on his dick, you find out that he likes to be stroked and played with. You start with his balls, just fondling them with your hands. He rocks his hips into you until he creates a rhythm that he loves. Holding him again, you watch him fuck himself in your hand, just sliding between your fist like he belongs there, and when your mouth drools salaciously, you suck on his tip to lick the drops of pre-cum that leak out of him.
He's leaking too much by the time you move your head at a faster pace. Koby's eyes shut close in response to the ecstasy, and when he's being too loud, he brings an arm to cover his face. He can feel himself getting close, evident by his tensed muscles under his shirt, but he tries not to cum because he doesn't want your mouth off of him just yet—this is the best his cock had ever felt, and your mouth is far more effective than his hand. He doesn't want you gone there. He wants you on him forever.
But before he cums, you stop. Koby loses the string of dirty memories and his muscles loosen at the snap of a finger. He whines beautifully in your ear and raises his hips instinctively toward your mouth again, but you throw an unopened condom packet on his stomach.
"I want you to cum in me," you say as you shift around the bed, crawling seductively up his torso. Koby is alarmed by your request, but he picks up the condom, tears it quickly, and decides that, yeah, he can most certainly cum inside you... as long as you account for protection, of course. Which technically means that he won't be finishing raw, but he guesses you like that dirty talk, like to pretend that it's real until he can actually cum inside you one day.
Koby reaches for his cock with the open condom packet in the other hand, but he feels jittery all of a sudden. He's about to lose his virginity after a night of fingering you for the first time. That's fucking amazing, if he says so himself. But he doesn't like where this is going because he woke up just six minutes ago and he hasn't done anything to you yet. Something needs to be done.
"I want to... I want to eat you out," he suggests nervously, which is fair for a guy who hasn't done it before. You rake your fingers through your hair as if to think. When you fall to his side, Koby gets his go signal.
"Come eat me out then," you challenge, spreading your legs the same way you did last night. You feel a slight ache from your sore muscles, but they're anything but displeasure.
Anxiously, Koby slithers in between your legs and places his hands on the back of your knees. Just like last night, you're wet, if not wetter than before. Koby glances at you, and when he sees your smile of approval, he dives into your pussy like a man starved, licking you up desperately and tasting you through your pulsing hole.
His clothes are off the next moment. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he brings his fingers to your legs. He pulls back, kisses the inside of your thighs, then uses his fingers to knead you in a circular motion. He pumps one finger, two fingers, and when you ooze for him, he licks you clean.
Koby has his way with you until his cock is hard and red again and practically begging for release. But he contains it, doesn't want to ruin the moment, because he's more concerned about making you feel good. He continues with his ministrations on your pussy until your legs begin to quiver around him, and when you're shrieking from the wave of pleasure, Koby pulls back to watch you make a mess on the bed.
Your wetness drips from the hole where his fingers were just in, but you recover quickly. You crawl toward Koby, pump him a few times, and watch him leak.
"You're hard again," you point out. Koby watches your hand on him and tries not to cum right then and there.
"Yeah— um, I-I kinda want to... you know."
"Fuck me already?" you finish with a giggle. He sighs.
"Yes," he agrees obediently. "I want to fuck you."
"Mm-hmm. Me too." Still holding onto him, you reach for the abandoned condom on the bed. You unravel the rubber and roll it down his dick, not before swiping the opportunity to throat him down beforehand. "You ready?"
Koby pats your head comfortingly. "If you are."
As you fall back on the bed, you pull Koby with you. He's hovering on top of you with one hand on his dick and the other to support himself. He brings his dick to your legs, realizes that he's about to actually fuck you, and gulps hard before pushing himself in.
He shakes. You encircle his neck. "It's okay, baby, just put in," you encourage, which drives him to push himself in you deeper, although slowly like he's afraid of hurting you.
He's deep inside you before you know it, taking deep breaths because you're wet and tight around him and he doesn't know how to properly act. But Koby decides to wait for you to adjust before he thrusts himself inside and out, from which he gradually picks up the pace until it's enjoyable.
Eventually, he feels the need to cum again. His head falls forward and he presses his body against yours. Your legs envelop his waist. His hands come up to your hair and gives it a nice gentle tug with every thrust that excites him, then when he can't handle it anymore, he laces his fingers with yours. You feel your stomach knot, but in the attempt to delay it, you clash your lips with Koby's and whine into his drooling mouth.
He slows down, but he rocks his hips into you, which you meet with your own thrusts. You hum at the sound of skin on skin and let your free hand grip his bicep. When he pulls away, you turn on your side and raise one leg for him, which he gladly keeps in the air as he continues thrusting with more access.
Koby keeps his hands busy while he fucks himself inside you. He leans forward so that you're basically splitting, and with heavy breaths, he fondles your tits. He squeezes them when he hits a spot, but strokes them to your liking otherwise. Your hands grip his as he does so, like you're guiding him while he plays with you, and direct him to your sensitive nipples.
Soon enough, he's lapping on your breasts and sucking your nipples dry. Moaning into your hand, you grind down on his dick until the pressure builds at the pit of your stomach. You claw at Koby's chest to chase your orgasm, but he does the unthinkable and flips you on your hands and knees, and continues to piston into you from behind.
He pulls your hair from the back, earning a sensitive, "oh— ohhh, Koby—" that riles him up more than ever. When he hears you mewl his name far too many times, he knows that you—and he—are about to snap, which doesn't take long because he's hitting your g-spot so good.
He milks himself dry inside you moments later, his eyes shutting close as he cums harder than ever before. You follow him soon afterward, your ass meeting his slowed thrusts, until your breathing calms and you fall to the bed in front of you.
Looking over your shoulder, you observe your boyfriend intently. He's tired, his whole face is flushed, and he's shaking if you look close enough. You prop yourself up on weak hands just as he ties off the condom. He shoots it in the trash can by your desk and meets you at the edge of your bed.
"Hm?" he mumbles. You smirk.
"Sleepyhead." He pouts.
Collapsing on the space beside you, he says, "That was tiring, okay?"
You lean against him. "I know, but you made it fun for something considered as your first. Thank you."
Koby melts when you snuggle beside him and place your head right where his heart beats. You poke fun at him a little more after that, bringing up his cute whines and dirty wet dreams, before you spend some minutes in comfortable silence.
Koby is going to need at least a week to process everything that happened this morning, but he doesn't mind it. As long as it's you that he's thinking of, he wouldn't have any complaints at all.
-
OKAY THAT'S THE END OF IT!! i have yet to proofread a second time but i'm very glad that this is done because i have 30 other drafts waiting to be finished and i can officially say that i contributed to the koby fandom with pure fucking filth :D
will i be writing a part 3? most likely not because i have no ideas left and the conflict (virgin sexless koby) has been "solved" T-T but anyway thanks again to @mibso for the partial idea (which you can read here) and for drawing that koby fanart that drove me crazy. very sorry as well that this turned out to be 11,000 words long, i have no excuse for that other than being horny. so yeah. my bad
extremely quick doodle based on @namism's fic (go read it here!! this is a demand) nothing too freaky because i'm not sure if you guys would want to see me draw that type of stuff yet but.... for now i hope soaking wet koby is good enough 😭
....on everyones SOUL we're all gooning to him tonight
➳ categories: modern au, established relationship
➳ warnings: nsfw (top koby, virgin koby, bottom reader, afab reader, masturbation, dry humping, koby has wild fantasies, oral, penetration)
➳ word count: 4k
➳ summary: You're Koby's first at everything, so naturally, he has the wildest fantasies about you.
➳ notes: dedicated to and requested by @mibso! 🩷
➳ cross-posted on ao3
"Did you date anyone before me?"
Koby looks behind his shoulder to eye your laid back form on the bay window of your kitchen. Shaking his head, he looks back at the cup of hot milk in front of him, swirling the liquid to dissolve the clumps of chocolate powder he just dumped five seconds ago.
"No. You're my first."
"So, you're a virgin?"
Koby swears he would have dropped his cup had he been holding it. Instead, he drops the metal spoon and tries with all his might to process your words.
His response is delayed.
"I am," he settles, but it comes out weak, small.
You grin. Koby knew you would. Dating you for the last three months has given him enough foresight for your actions, and you're quite known for your cheekiness. You love seeing him flustered, but he doesn't mind it. Not at all.
You hop off the bay and stroll over to your boyfriend. He prepares himself for your mild teasing, but it doesn't come. You kiss his cheek instead.
"Okay."
It's the last thing you tell him before you disappear into the living room, never to be seen again for the next ten minutes. When Koby peeks past the kitchen archway, he sees you engrossed in the same series you've been watching the past week. Too occupied, he thinks, you won't even bother answering him if he prods any further.
So he sits beside you with his cup of hot chocolate in both hands. He drowns his flustered thoughts in a sea of happy ones, laughing his nerves away as he watches the show you just put on.
But even as he leaves your flat and swaddles himself in his blankets that evening, he's reminded by your questions. Your voice echoes in his head even when his eyes are closed, when exhaustion coos him into slumber. To his luck, the image of your playful grin stays in his head the following morning and the morning after that.
Eventually, he snaps.
"Seriously, now," he whispers to himself because he's ashamed of how he feels. He was in the middle of entertaining Hibari's questions when she brought you up in the middle of a convo and it sent him spiraling.
"I have yet to ask about it," she continued, but Koby was long gone. He doesn't remember what other request Hibari had for him after that. All he remembers is giving a half-assed excuse before scrambling back to his dorm where he can take a breather, and now that he's here, he collects himself painstakingly.
He reflects on his feelings as his body sinks into his bed. Two things are for sure: one, he's still hung up on the question you decided to ask three weeks ago, and two, he's painfully, painfully hard. Very hard.
Koby looks down at his pants. He groans. This isn't the first time he's been hard like this, or the second, or the third. He knows it's out of character. It's beyond stereotypes, superficial impressions. But contrary to what most people think, Koby's been hard several times in his life and he's jacked off more than one would expect, with his own set of fantasies fueling his wildest actions in private—he just doesn't make them public, doesn't voice them out loud. He thinks that if he would, ill-natured banter is going to bite him in the ass, so he shuts up. He keeps quiet.
Unfortunately, he's a virgin. It's quite pathetic, really, but at the same time, maybe not so much. Most people don't lose their virginity until university, so Koby has a few years left until his situation becomes too pathetic for someone who wants to have sex—but he can't blame anybody but himself because he doesn't make the effort to initiate, and never has.
Until getting with you.
Since entering an exclusive relationship with you, Koby has done many things he's never dreamed of doing until age 30 because he's stereotyped as the innocent cutiepie. A sweetheart, a pure soul. You've initiated all things remotely sexual with him—kissing, making out, subtle consensual groping that coaxes a moan out of him—but it never escalates to something more. At least not yet.
It's expected to happen someday. With how you throw yourself at him at any given chance, Koby thinks about giving your relationship a month or two before it happens. Before it gets there. But for now, he's confined to his thoughts and fantasies.
Without question, he grips himself. A sigh leaves his lips when he presses his balls just a bit to relieve the pressure within his pants. He traces his dick with his fingers moments later and spends a minute in deep silence. Half of his thoughts are occupied with sexual fantasies, but the other half speaks to him out of exhaustion. He's tired after a long day, that's no question. Is he willing to spend the last of his energy jacking off?
Koby makes a decision not long after that. Tiredly, he undoes his buttons and slips out of his pants, which he discards on the floor with his shoes. He pumps himself a few times with slow languid movements, like he's still debating whether or not he should stop—but the reluctance jumps out the window once he remembers you, his girlfriend, the very reason why he's in this state, and imagines you kissing him sensually while he touches himself.
As painfully hard as he is, Koby doesn't rush. One hand works himself just the way he needs, while the other is splayed on the sheets to ground himself. His strokes are fluid, beginning from the base of his dick and ending up at his tip before going back down again.
His eyes fall close.
He imagines you again. In his darkest thoughts, you're stripping for him until you're in nothing but your underwear. In his head, you spread your legs wide open for him while your tits bounce free from your bra. Your hair would fall on his pillows. You would guide his dick inside you. In the heat of the moment, Koby speeds his touches and grips his cock tighter, the pressure that presents at his stomach almost unimaginable.
"Fuck, wow— like that please."
He's thinking about what you can do to him. You're bold, you take initiative. So maybe you'd tease his cock with your hands until he's whimpering for release or until he's shooting cum uncontrollably after being edged to his limit. Maybe you can dip your head low and start blowing him clean after his orgasm, or maybe you can wet his cock with your mouth before fucking him again.
You'd guide him to different positions. Maybe you'd start with your favorite. He doesn't know what they are, but he's bound to find out. You probably like the ones that accentuate your features—cowgirl to show your ass, missionary for your tits. Then, when his energy is spent, he can flip you over and take control from behind. Or he can pin you to the wall for a change. Or he can fuck you standing up, if that's your thing. Koby has been working out the past year. Picking you up is no big deal.
He opens his eyes. His cock can't get any harder, any redder. He wets his hand with spit and puts more pressure on his head, teasing it every so often until he's whimpering for more, whimpering like you're there with him. Like you're watching him. Beads of cum stream down the side of his dick as he teases himself further, his thumb swiping over his head, and his fingers massaging his balls just the way he likes it. He traces the underside of his dick with his pointer finger, sickly pretending that it's you, your wet tongue that he would love to suck on given the off chance that you're up for it.
"Fuck, that's so..." Koby curses, but his cock pulses in his hand and he has to take a deep breath in. Hot. 'Hot' is what he would like to say, but he feels embarrassed enough by the barrage of dirty thoughts in his head that he can't get himself to speak it aloud. The best he can do is to curse, but even his faintest curses are muffled by his shyness.
"So, you're a virgin?"
Yes. Yes, he is. So what? Do you want to fuck him, too? Are you meticulously planning on swiping his virginity after months of innocent and not-so-innocent kisses? Koby's eyebrows furrow. Are you thinking of fucking him of his virginity like he's thinking of fucking you?
It doesn't matter, Koby says in his head, and there's a silent agreement between himself and his demons that it truly doesn't because his resolve is quite clear. He can give you all of him if it means getting to fuck you, taste you, and see how good your mouth sucks him dry.
"Fuck, please, please," he begs, "please, please, please, I feel so good, please—"
He cums. It's quite a lot. A waterfall of white liquid leaks from his dick, shooting into his sheets that he has to change later on. Koby doesn't care, though. He keeps cumming into oblivion, wishing again that it's your face he's painting white. As his vision clears in the next few minutes, he decides he'd act on it when he can.
"Next time," he says through heavy pants.
Next time, he's having you.
"Is everything okay in there?"
You're in Koby's dorm room twenty or so minutes later. It's eight in the evening, so you decided to drop by with an offering of store-bought pastries from the bakery that just opened downtown, figuring that he hasn't had anything to eat since that morning. Problem is, Koby was in the shower when you arrived and it's been more than ten minutes since then, so now, you're knocking on his bathroom door.
You're half-worried and half-curious on what he's up to because he hasn't uttered a word since you announced your arrival, which is nothing short of strange. If there's one thing you know about your boyfriend, it's the speed at which guilt eats him up. Koby would've felt bad about making you wait, so he'd storm out of the shower once he learns that you've been waiting for him and apologize profusely.
That doesn't seem to be happening now, though.
"Sorry, just a second!"
With that, you strut back to his study desk and waste your time on a mobile game until Koby emerges from the bathroom. He's hosed down from head to toe, his kobi pink-colored hair thrashed around in a wet mess in need of combing. Although the oddest of it all, beyond the suspicious amount of time it took him to shower, is probably the fact that he's dressed in his pre-shower clothes.
If you squint hard enough, you can see his chest peeking past his white shirt, the fabric sticking to his damp skin and outlining the ridges of his chest.
"You're soaked," you point out.
He laughs nervously.
"Yes, um, I just— I just got out of the shower," he explains, but he sees the source of his problems on the bed. "I didn't bring the towel with me."
Shaking your head, you turn your back toward him. You dig through the bag of pastries, picking out the flavor Koby would appreciate as a post-shower snack. "I could've brought it to you," you say. "Anyway, I bought you something. Check these out when you get changed. I won't look."
Koby nods like you can see him, snatches the towel from his bed, and ransacks his closet for a fresh set of clothes. He hurries to the bathroom, then meets you back outside a few minutes later.
You spin around in his chair. "Did you just change in the bathroom?"
"Yes?" he replies in a questioning tone. "Yes."
You shrug. "I told you I wasn't going to look."
"I was scared you would—" Oh. At that moment, Koby realizes that he is his own downfall. You were signaling an innuendo, suggesting that it was okay for him to change with you around. That you weren't going to ridicule him or anything, that he was safe being bare and vulnerable with you. He wishes he realized this sooner, but he's too abashed to backtrack his words. "That was my bad."
Chuckling to yourself, you walk over to him and throw your arms around his waist. He reciprocates instantly and looks at the pastry in your hands.
"Sweets to fill your stomach?"
The night proceeds calmly, but Koby has to walk back to the bathroom at one point to collect his thoughts. You have no clue what you just walked into earlier. He was in the middle of washing himself clean when you snuck into his room using the spare key he gave you a month ago. The moment he heard you come in, panic consumed him alive until he realized just how lucky he was to have finished before you visited.
As Koby watches you ramble about your day on his bed, he's awfully thankful that he had half the mind to change his bedsheets after that.
"Hey, do you moisturize or something? Why's there a bottle of lotion by your pillows?"
He isn't thankful for his forgetfulness, however, as you seem to have caught up with his dirty antics. Koby watches you feel under his pillows, where you eventually find a bottle of lotion that he had suspiciously hidden there. He panics.
"I-I forgot to"—he gulps—"put it back in the cabinets a-and stuff."
"'And stuff'? I know your hands are smooth, but I always thought they were naturally like that," you say as you inspect the bottle. It's when you raise a questioning brow and Koby pathetically tries to wrestle it from your hold that you burst out laughing. "No way, please don't tell me you—"
"I don't!" He panics. "I don't use— I don't do that silly stuff! Can you please give it back to me?!"
Koby reaches for the bottle in your hands, but you stubbornly move it away. "It fascinates me how guys use lotion to masturbate," you remark. "How does it feel?"
"Good," he answers. His eyes widen. "Actually, very bad. ACTUALLY, I don't even use it! Give it back!"
You smirk. "Pervert."
"I'm not!"
Satisfied with his answer, you toss him back the bottle. Koby shoves it deep inside his closet and comes back to the bed with a face colored pink.
"I know much better alternatives to lotion," you tease. He shakes his head.
"I don't need them."
You laugh. "I'm kidding, you dork. You're so adorable." Falling back into his pillows, you open your arms toward him. Koby crawls over to you and gently lays his head on the pillow beside you.
"I think we should have a sleepover one day," you whisper.
Koby doesn't know where that suggestion came from, but with his thoughts still muddled, there's one thing he wishes that would happen at a sleepover with you.
"I think we should," he says.
A few weeks later, you celebrate your four months together. Koby takes you out to somewhere special after your morning classes, and by evening, you're spending a heartfelt discussion with him by the seaside. When the sun dips past the horizon, you take the peaceful walk back to your apartment, where Koby decides to stay for the night.
"We should put a movie on. Or a show," you suggest as you emerge from your bedroom, freshly showered and clothed in your pajamas. You snuggle beside Koby on the couch, where he flips through the Netflix shows projected on your TV.
"Forever just released," he says. "It's based on a book by Judy Blume, but we have other options."
You shrug. "Put whatever you like."
Koby settles for a coming-of-age movie, a film so reminiscent of the high school days the both of you lived together. Halfway through the film, you've shimmied yourself next to him until he's spooning you on the couch, your legs entangled with his and your face tucked in between his arms.
"Um," Koby stutters as the screen goes dark and orchestrated moans fill the room, "this is awkward."
You sneer. "Figures. Teenagers are horny."
"Yeah..." he says. Looking back at the screen, he makes a face of horror as a sex scene drags on longer than he expected. "But this is unlooked for."
You move around on the couch to face him. Koby looks down at you in his arms. "Don't be a prude," you tease.
"I'm not," he retorts, but he takes it back. "Actually, I kinda am. But this is too much vulgarity for a 16+ movie."
"Of course, a puritan critic." You look back at the screen. The girl is getting her shit rammed raw in a cinematic sequence like the ones you've seen in Euphoria, with the only difference being the magnitude of sexual display overpowering that of the HBO show. Your boyfriend might have a point, but you aren't about to give him that.
"You're making fun of me again," he says. He pokes the side of your waist. You squirm.
"I was joking."
You hit his hip bone to retaliate, but your hand lands dangerously close to somewhere untouched. Koby swears his head spun during the 2 seconds your hand glided across his skin, but he keeps his perverted thoughts at bay because he doesn't want to be disrespectful. When he looks past your head and sees the erotica on the TV, however, he's immediately challenged by his demons.
Little does he know that this is only the start of a tempting evening.
"Come to think of it, I haven't kissed you enough today." Flirtatiously, your hands encircle Koby's head and begin to get handsy with his face. You trace the side of his cheek, his jaw, his neck, until your hands land on his chest. You push him farther into the couch until he's laying on his back, while you hold yourself up on your elbows.
"What are you doing?" he asks, but it comes out as a mumble. Frankly, Koby knows what you're doing. You've kissed him in the same manner before, but the erotic noises coming from the TV and his four-month-long sexual yearning impair his ability to think properly. As you knead his skin through his clothes, you peck his cheek with slow sensual kisses, eventually getting close enough to his lips.
"I'm kissing you," you say in between pecks. "Show is giving me some ideas. Didn't get to kiss you enough today. Happy four months."
Four months, Koby thinks to himself. Not to be a pervert, but Koby wonders if four months is a decent period of time to get seriously sexual with you. He knows it's taboo for some people, but you don't seem to mind it. Your flirty stunts prove that.
Still, Koby holds himself. He doesn't let temptation take over even if he wants it to. The most he does is to support your body weight with a strong arm, then, once you're satisfied with his face, he parts his lips wide enough for yours to slip in just the way they always do. Koby doesn't do much but give you control, instead cherishing a moment well-spent between the both of you.
It starts slow, but kissing you always starts that way. When you climb on top of him and straddle his waist, Koby feels his stomach turn. He's never had you do that before. Worse, he's never made out with you at such a private time. It feels like one passionate kiss away from the best fuck of his life—not that he's had prior experience, but if he did, he'd call the shots right here, right now.
With that, Koby decides that he's horny. His dick stirs in his pajamas in response to your consistent work on his lips. You move more passionately than all the times you've kissed him, your hips matching the rhythm of your lips. Koby tries his hardest to prevent an erection, but your ass lightly grazes him a few times and he admits defeat.
It doesn't take you long to notice it. When you move back, you feel his hard-on through your pajamas. You gaze at his pelvis, but Koby directs your lips back to his with a guiding hand.
As you kiss him once more, you sit down on him. Koby gasps loudly. His hands suddenly come up to feel your hips, your waist, and anything else that they can hold onto. Experimentally, you roll your hips on him, and his grip tightens around your body.
You repeat it for the next couple of minutes to rile him up. Koby responds well to your movements, his lips parting for a whimper and his hips wriggling through the pleasure.
When you're spent, you attach your lips to his jaw and tiredly kiss the skin down his neck. "Koby..." you mumble.
"Yes?" He cranks his head away to allow you more space. He looks at you through hooded eyes, wondering what you're up to next.
You push yourself down on him. Koby feels you through your pajamas, a growing wetness in your pussy. Suddenly, he fears you stopping. He hopes that you don't.
You bite down lightly on his neck. Koby makes a noise.
Looking up at him, you ask, "Do you want me to blow you?"
His eyes snap back down at you. He looks at you through equally watery eyes, needy irises, and plump lips. Koby begins to lose his mind. He's so hard. And in need. But he can't form a coherent reply. Fuck. Is this real?
"Like... that blowing?" is what comes out of his mouth. You grind down on him another time, and this time, Koby doesn't restrain the moan that escapes his lips. He lets it free in your living room, where it battles with the background noise tinkling from the TV.
"Yes. Give you head," you tell him. You snuggle your head into his neck and leave gentle kisses on his skin. "Do you want it?"
Koby's automatic answer is yes. Of course he wants it. As a matter of fact, he's been wanting it for ages. He even yearns for it in his dreams. He doesn't believe it's actually happening, though, so he makes a nervous decision.
But the moment he says yes, you're smiling from ear-to-ear with excitement. You peck his lips before crawling down to his lower body and feeling his thighs. Your hands coil around the hem of his pajamas and slowly pull them down past his hips.
But suddenly, your ringtone alarms from the coffee table.
"Oh no," you curse, "oh no, no, no, you've got to be fucking kidding."
As you hop off the couch and race to answer your phone, Koby's face twists into a frown. Disappointment is etched across his face. You come back into the living room some seconds later, mouthing the words, "my mother" before going back to your bedroom to take the call.
So, Koby shifts around the couch and lays his head on the armrest dejectedly. He's still hard as shit—that's no question—but he doubts you would want to go back to doing the nasty with him right after speaking to your mother. Besides, putting it realistically, he doubts he'd even have the balls to ask you to continue.
When you come back five minutes later, he's admittedly more bummed out than horny. Sensing his disappointment, you cuddle next to him instead.
However, Koby feels that you're equally upset, so he hugs you tightly and rubs a comforting hand on your back.
"It's okay. You can give it to me anytime," he tells you.
You look at him. His eyes are still glossy and his lips are still plump, but you don't miss the sexual frustration on his face. "Anytime?" you ask.
There's a sparkle in your eyes that Koby cherishes. He loves you.
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