Synopsis (3.6K words): After being cheated on by your shitty ex-boyfriend you run home to find your older brother’s best friend, Suna Rintaro. And he’s more than happy to give you some comfort. (Yes it’s loosely inspired by the T.Swift song lol)
Tags: MDNI, timeskip, older brother!Atsumu and Osamu, brother’s bsf!Suna, Suna Rintaro, smoking weed, dry humping, Suna has a questionable way of comforting you post breakup.
Masterlist
Yoooo, I am so sorry that I have been MIA for over a month. So much happened in that time and I literally didn’t have any time to write! But life update: I got engaged and also got accepted into my first pick Master’s program! Anyways, I love ya’ll and I am super excited to be posting on here again. I really hope you guys enjoy this Suna fic, it's the first thing I've written in a while. :)
You burst through the doors of your house hoping to find your twin older brothers, Atsumu and Osamu. You just ran two miles home in freezing rain after you walked in on your shitty boyfriend making out with some girl from your physics lecture. You may or may not have gotten into a screaming match with him, shredding your vocal cords raw and crying so hard that you now feel dizzy.
All you want is to collapse onto the couch and tell your big brothers how miserable you feel because they always know how to make you laugh.
But as you make your way downstairs, you don’t hear the usual bickering and loud music. Just quiet with the faint sound of videos playing on a phone. You walk in.
“Samu? Sumu?” You whimper into the dark room. Someone shuffles on the couch, a head peeks up. Dark floppy hair framing two green, half lidded eyes. Not Atsumu or Osamu. Suna Rintaro.
“Oh.” You sniff, “Sorry I’m looking for my brothers.”
—
You’ve known Suna for what feels like forever. He played on the same volleyball team as your brothers in high school and since then he’s been a constant in your life. Always over at your house—stealing snacks, beating you at video games, hogging the hot water when he stays the night. You would probably classify him as a third brother if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve had a giant thinly veiled crush on him for as long as you’ve known him.
The twins would always tease you for it—whispering to ‘wipe the drool off your chin’ when Suna would be around shirtless, or snickering to themselves every time you somehow got seated next to each other on the couch. It definitely wasn’t a secret that you found him cute.
But as far as everything goes, it was harmless, and Suna certainly never said anything about it, so you just assumed he was either cool with it or still miraculously oblivious. Besides, it’s not like anything would ever come of it. You knew that. Your brothers knew that. So there was no point thinking about it too hard.
—
Suna sets his phone down and sits up, turning to face you head on. You bite down on your lip to keep from dissolving into a puddle of tears. He’s definitely seen you cry before. Once when your prom date canceled last minute and he offered to go in his place, another time when Atsumu accidentally broke your favorite trinket and Suna tackled him just to make you laugh.
“They went out to grab some pizza.” He stares you down, assessing the soaked clothes, messy hair, puffy eyes, petal pink cheeks. “Are you crying?”
Maybe under different circumstances you would have been able to lie. To choke down your sobs, and force a smile, and say that everything was fine. But you had just discovered your now ex’s infidelity. And the mix of embarrassment and anger was still so fresh. You had no choice.
Your chin trembles as fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks.
Suna’s eyes widen ever so slightly before falling back to their half lidded state. You wipe at your eyes, sniffling, feeling pathetic.
“I um…my boyfriend was…we’re done. It’s over.” Your voice falters on the last word and you shut your eyes tight. Like maybe you’ll open them and you won’t be a sniveling mess in front of your childhood crush. But before you can test your wish out, his low voice echos across the room.
“C’mere.” You look up as he nods to the cushion next to him, and before you can even think it over, you’ve already moved across the entire room to the small, old couch he sits on. Your knees knock into his as you sit and to your surprise neither you nor him pulls away. He reaches for something in his pocket, bringing out a small gray blunt, lighting it, and taking one quick puff. It’s then that you notice how hazy the basement is.
“You’ve been smoking?” You sniff as the wall of fresh haze engulfs you and mixes with the smell of rain coming off your skin. He runs his tongue over the inside of his bottom lip.
“Yeah, sorry. I wouldn’t have if I knew that—“ He looks at you—still cold, still wet, still crying. Suna’s expression has always been unreadable, but you swear you see something like curiosity flicker through his features. “Want some?” He extends the blunt over to you. You were never much of a smoker, but the thought of pressing your lips to the same place Suna just did is definitely enticing.
Your ex never liked Suna. He used to accuse you of staring at him for too long, claiming you were “pining”. Shit, maybe you were. But who cares now? That guy isn’t your boyfriend anymore.
“I don’t know…I’ve never—“
“Smoked. Yeah I figured. You’re a good girl.” You scoff. Suna had always liked to tease you for how much of a rule follower you were. But the thought triggers your memory to about an hour ago, right after your breakup when you might have keyed your ex boyfriend’s car in the thick of the fight. Suddenly you feel nauseous, the sting of the breakup and your subsequent freak out still gripping you.
“I’m not that good Rin, trust me.” Another wave of tears threatens to fall, you quickly choke them down, but the stress is etched into your face.
“Yeah? Then how about—” The tips of his fingers reach out, barely caressing the underside of your jaw and pulling your attention to where he’s bringing the blunt to your lips, “you prove it.” You meet his eyes right as the lighted paper rests atop your bottom lip. It’s not hard to give in to him. Not when the soft touch of his fingertips is warming your chilled skin.
He's never touched you like this.
“Suck in slowly.” He directs, voice soft and low. Sultry green eyes fixed on your mouth. Transfixed, you do as your told, not letting the smoke past your throat, “Now try to take a normal breath.” Keeping your eyes focused on his, you let your lungs inflate—the sultry drug, filling your tired lungs, “Hold it there.” You hold your breath for as long as you can— though it’s not long considering the violent cough that rips out of you. Suna chuckles and leans back further into the couch, watching your failed attempt. “Not bad for your first try.”
Through your coughs, you find yourself smiling, “That shit’s—ACK—terrible!”
“You won’t be saying that in 5 minutes when you start feeling it. Try again.” He lifts the blunt to you again, the pad of his thumb parting your bottom lip from the top. This time you’re able to get it down—the smoke swirling around your lungs just long enough for you to feel a subtle buzz. “Exhale, that's it.” He whispers as he tilts your head back slightly, the perfect angle to release the smoke into the air.
He takes a hit for himself, "Why were you ever with that jerk anyways?” Smoke billows out his mouth as he speaks. The smoke hits your nose. It’s sharp and earthy and makes your skin tingle. You can feel the beginning of the weed’s effect on you. Like a weighted blanket anchoring you to the couch, dulling your nerves and slowing your heart rate.
You shrug, “I don’t even think I liked him that much. It was just better than being alone.” You aren’t sure why you’re telling him this, but at the same time, he’s just so easy to talk to. Or maybe it’s the drugs. He hands you the blunt, you take another puff, longer and more drawn out this time. You can feel the smoke hit your chest. Your eyes shut and head falls back as you exhale.
“There you go.” He coos, taking back the glowing blunt. You both go like that for some time, passing the thing back and forth. Each taking turns holding it between your lips and blowing the silky smoke away. At some point, your tears stopped coming, now leaving your cheeks feeling cold and tight. You fall deeper and deeper into the high. It’s not as scary as you once thought it to be. Actually, it’s the opposite. With every second that passes you find it harder to remember why you were upset.
It’s just you, the blunt, a dark room, and a hot guy. You understand why Suna smokes so much.
It’s relaxing.
So relaxing that somehow you don’t notice when you’ve rested your head onto his shoulder. Or when his hand finds its home on your thigh, thumb absentmindedly stroking the soft skin.
“How strong is this stuff?” You whisper, your body seemingly sinking into the couch.
“Pretty strong. Probably should’ve started you out on something easier.” He looks over to you, your eyes half lidded and glazed over, head lolled over his arm, “Your brothers are gonna kill me when they see what I’ve done to you.” He laughs.
Fuck, that laugh. He couldn't get hotter if he lit himself on fire.
Maybe his charm distracted you or maybe the weed makes you brave, but you find yourself reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes, "What have you done to me, Rintaro?"
The air between you is charged static. His lips fall open just slightly. Enough to let you know that you've taken him off guard. Hell, you've taken yourself off guard. Your heart pounds, but your muscles feel heavy from smoking. You couldn't run off if you tried. You have to let the moment play out. God, you want it to play the fuck out.
"You tell me." He mutters, barely audible.
You lift your head from his shoulder and turn to face him. He moves too, grabbing your arm and guiding you closer. So close that you have to lift yourself up and over until you are sitting in his lap. Holy shit, you're sitting in his lap.
"This ok?" He asks. You nod as he brushes the hair behind your shoulders. The air is quiet. All you hear is the sound of the AC running and distant thunder, muffled by the basement walls. Suna holds you gently on your lower back. It seems neither of you quite know what to do next, but somehow it still feels natural.
"So what made you finally come to your senses? Why the breakup?" He asks it innocently enough. After an awkwardly long pause, you decide to just tell him.
"He cheated. Found out today." The words come out like bitter poison. A fresh wave of post breakup sting comes over you. Your chin trembles. Suna stares quietly, his hands move to your waist as if holding you steady. It's almost...protective. "You probably think I'm a loser." You sniff.
"I think I could kill him." He says dryly. You wish you had it in you to laugh.
“It hurts, Rin.”
“Shh baby. I know.” One hand comes up to wipe away your tears as the other grips your waist tighter, “M’gonna make you forget all about it, k?”
You nod, falling forward onto his chest with exhaustion and let him position you. Tired legs straddle his lap, your aching center rests directly on his shorts. Those rock hard, muscular thighs graze your core with the upmost care. Like all those years of training and gym sessions were done just so you could have a comfortable seat.
"Wanna feel good." You whine against his collarbone. Your heart jumps as you wait for his response. You might be high, but even now you recognize that him pulling you onto his lap means something. There's something between you, something that crosses the boundary of friendship. And fuck you want it bad. All those years of pining after him suddenly rush back into you like you never stopped. Maybe you never did.
He drags your hips in, "I've got you."
Something hard and long presses against your clothed core. A short, but audible moan is expelled from your open lips which only encourages him further. Using your hips as leverage, he presses you down as his hips grind up to meet you. Over and over you feel the sweet pressure of his covered cock coming up to kiss your aching center.
You try to sit up, but you can only manage a few inches up his chest, until your face reaches his. Instantly he takes you up, smoke stained lips brushing over yours. He kisses soft and methodical, like you always thought he would. And you've thought about this so much.
His tongue slips behind your lips, flirting with your own tongue masterfully. He tastes like weed obviously, but also spearmint. It's instantly your new favorite taste.
He grinds up harder. You can feel the outline of his cock perfectly. A small noise escapes you and he takes notice.
“Bet he never made you feel like this.” He whispers, grinding up against your shorts and drawing a ragged breath from you.
“Since when do you care?” You say it like a joke, but mean every word. To you, Rin has always seemed indifferent when it came to those things. Every new partner was met with the same expressionless greeting and lackluster conversation. Eventually you had just come to the conclusion that he truly didn’t care who you dated.
But something fiery ignites behind those green eyes of his at your insinuation. You’re almost taken aback by the way he pulls you down sharply, dragging your hips across his length and eliciting an embarrassing whimper from your lips.
“You think it doesn’t kill me to watch my best friend’s little sister date guys like that?” He thrusts harder. The thick bulge rubbing right against your clit. You suck in another breath. “You think I like knowing that you’re not being treated right? Or that those guys might be thinking all the wrong things about you. That they get to touch you like this?” His hands slip to the hem of your soaked shirt, skin still cold from the rain. He lifts the fabric up and over your head, leaving you shivering, but only for a second. The palms of his hands which come to cup your ribs, instantly sends waves of warmth up your spine.
“Rin—“
“I know how guys think, y/n. Maybe I didn’t want to be nice to any of them because I know what they were thinking about you.” He drags your hips up again, slower this time like he’s cooling off from his mini rant. Your head tilts to the side and a deep breath fills your lungs.
Is he jealous?
“What do you think about me, Rin?”
“I think you’re my best friend’s little sister.”
“Then why—hhah—are you letting me fuck myself on your lap?”
“Because I’m not a very good friend.” He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “And maybe I know all about your little crush on me.”
Your shoulders jolt up, “I—“
“Don’t worry, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.” You wonder if the heat in your cheeks looks as red as it feels. Of course he knows, it’s not like you’re subtle and you’re also pretty sure Atsumu read your diary, (you’ll be sure to yell at him later). But it feels so much more embarrassing when he addresses it so plainly.
“You think I’m cute?” You squeak, as if you couldn’t be more embarrassing. He lets out a lazed, raspy laugh as he pulls you in tighter. Those muscular legs of his flexing beneath you.
“I think you're a lot of things. Cute is definitely one of them." You grind down on him, taking over control of the pace.
“Fuck.” His hands fly to his head as he lays back, watching you, “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble. If your brothers knew—“
“They’ll never know.” You grab his face in your hands, “Please Rin, don’t stop.” You roll your hips against his bulge—the pressure feels insane against your clothed pussy. He grinds up to meet you,“Fffuuuuuck.”
“Who said anything about stopping?” He smirks, grabbing your hips and taking back control, “I’m not done until you’re satisfied.”
He presses into you as his teeth suck the skin on your neck, leaving behind a trail of hickies that you’re sure will raise suspicion from your brothers. You can’t be bothered to care though. Not when it’s Suna. Not when it feels this amazing.
Your skin feels hot as he knocks into you at the perfect angle over and over again. So many layers of clothing separates you two but it doesn't even matter. You think about how good his cock feels raw and unrestrained. You wonder what he fucks like. Does he fuck like he kisses—slow and sweet, or like he's moving now—quick and hard.
You'd take it either way. As long as it was him.
“Shit—nngh, Rin, I th-think I’m close.”
“That’s it. Just let go baby, I’ve got you.” You hump him like a helpless bunny and he lets you, holding you just tight enough to keep you steady on him. When you come it’s with a saccharine whine in his ear. He grinds you through it, each bump of his clothed cock making you shudder against him. He lets out a low moan as well. Not from finishing, just from how sweet and innocent you sound.
The one girl in the entire world that he shouldn’t want. Shouldn’t touch. Shouldn’t think about. But here you are, high off his weed and coming over his aching cock without even being really touched.
It’s not his fault. How could he refuse when you all but ran to him for reassurance? When you sniffed and batted your beautiful eyes at him like you always do when you need something. How could he not be so accommodating when your rain soaked clothes are clinging to your skin like something out of a magazine? Suna’s always been stoic, but he’s still human and you’re definitely a weak spot for him. Not quite a friend, but definitely not a sisterly relationship. No, you’re the girl he wants but can never have.
But tonight—with the smell of winter rain mixing with your shampoo and how delicate you looked standing under the dim basement lighting, he knew that there was no stopping it. And shit, Suna isn’t sure if anything could ever stop it again. Not now that he finally knows what you taste like. Feel like.
You’ve just made it off his lap when you hear the front door open upstairs, your brother’s voices ringing throughout the house. Your head whips to meet Rin’s gaze.
“Rin—“
“I won’t say anything.”
You nod, but something still lurks deep in your subconscious. Almost a feeling of…disappointment? Maybe that it’s over and you don’t know if it will ever happen again. You want it to happen again. You want him again.
The twins start coming down the stairs. You adjust your hair and clothes to make sure they don’t catch on, covering the fresh bruises on your neck. Their voices come closer. You try to catch your breath. They’re almost in the room—
Two familiar hands reach out and drag you into an open mouthed kiss. His tongue envelops yours for a moment, swirling around like a sensual dance—he tastes smoky and minty, and earth-like. Addictive. He kisses with slow passion, like he’s savoring this just as much as you are. He pulls away, and right before the twins turn the corner into the room, he leans in and whispers against the shell of your ear.
“Just relax.” Your cheeks heat to an insane level just as your brothers enter in.
“We’re back—oh hey y/n.” Osamu says obliviously. Atsumu rounds the corner as well, carrying two large pizzas that smell amazing.
“Thought you were at your boyfriend’s house.” Atsumu questions, one eyebrow raised.
“We uh—we broke up.” You say, suddenly realizing that you don’t feel that sad about it anymore. Especially not when your lips still tingle from the weed and you can still taste Suna on your tongue.
“Shit, when? Wait is that why it smells like weed in here? Rintaro did you give our sister weed?” Osamu rounds the couch and looks into your misty, red eyes. Pupils dilated and unfocused.
“She walked in crying, I’m not gonna deny a sad woman weed.”
“You got our sister high?” Atsumu gasps, setting the pizza down and joining Osamu in inspecting you.
“I asked for some.” You lie. There’s no need for your older brothers to know anything about the last hour. Not now anyways. You barely know what just went down yourself. Anyways, you’re an adult, you don’t need permission to smoke.
The twins look at you for a moment—suspecting, pondering, and then that identical expression that tells you that they’ll drop it. Your shoulders sag with relief. A brief glance at Suna reveals he also seems to relax a bit.
You’re in the clear. For now. Everyone digs into the pizza. Suna offers to bring you some, resuming his place next to you on the couch after.
“Nice’ve yuh to take care’ve her while we were gone, Rin.” Osamu says through a full mouth of pepperoni. Atsumu hums in agreement. Suna waves them off, letting his hand land right above your knee. Low enough to not raise suspicion, but intentional enough to still raise the hairs on your skin.
SAGELYTOAD I LOVELOVELOVELOVE YOUR WRITINGGGGG do you think there will be a pt3 of ‘and they were roommates’? even if there isnt like i eat ur shit up this is beautiful and amazing writing mwah
THANK YOU!! I don’t have any pervy roommate Iwa planned specifically, but I do have a pervy coworker Iwa one shot in my drafts! Always open to writing more of him though so it’s possible another roommate fic will drop in the future 😜
You were—by all means—flying too close to the sun. And it was only a matter of time before it all came tumbling down.
Akaashi was the one to finally figure it out. Of course he was.
He waited until movie night, when everyone’s eyes were glued to the TV and you were in the kitchen getting a glass of water alone.
“I know what you’ve been up to, y/n.”
“Huh?” You spin around to find Akaashi towering over you, one hand on either side of the counter effectively blocking you in. “Oh Keiji. Hah, is this another one of your kinks? We should probably wait until everyone’s asleep—“
“Don’t act innocent.” He reaches a hand over to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the corner of your mouth. “Not when we both know you’re so guilty.” Your pulse jumps beneath his touch.
There’s no way he knows. Right? But what else could he be referring to?
“I don’t know what you mean Kej.” You whisper, half turned on by the dark glare behind his eyes, half panicking. He brings his hips in closer, until you’re practically chest to chest. He looks so tall right now. Almost menacing.
“All this time I thought you were mine. My dirty little secret. But turns out you’ve been slutting yourself out to all our friends, haven’t you?”
Fuck. He knows.
“Keiji, I—“ He brings his hand to your mouth, shushing you. One hand hooking around your waist.
“Don’t try to deny it. Bokuto’s got a bruise on his forehead that’s shaped suspiciously like your foot, Kuroo smirks like an asshole every time you walk by, and I swear that I saw your bra in the background of Kenma’s stream last night.”
Your lungs deflate. You’ve been caught.
“What do you want? I’ll do anything. Please Keiji.”
“Oh—I’m not gonna blackmail you y/n.” You sigh with short-lived relief as a diabolical smile etches into Akaashi’s features, “No, friends don’t do that. We’re gonna go tell them all the truth right now.”
Your knees buckle, your head spins, you think you might pass out.
Tell them? Tell them what?
That you’ve been fucking the entire friend group like some desperate slut? That not only are you fucking each one of them individually, but also all of their best friends? They’d go insane. They’d hate you. They’d never speak to you again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there too.” Akaashi mockingly reassures as he grabs your wrist and drags you toward the living room where your doom awaits.
—
It’s about as awkward as you’d expect at first. Akaashi drags you to the center of the living room, taking the remote and pausing the movie, ignoring the other’s protests.
“Y/n has something she needs to confess.” Bokuto sits forward, Kenma tilts his head, Kuroo narrows his eyes. And Akaashi just walks to the couch, leaving you totally alone as you try to figure out how to say this.
God you’re embarrassed. Your cheeks burn. Your hands shake. Your fight or flight instinct is firing off, telling you to make a run for the door.
But also… you can’t ignore the way your panties have suddenly started sticking together. Your thighs pressing together in a lame attempt to conceal the growing wet patch on your silky pajama shorts. You bite your lower lip. Why do they all have to look so good when they stare you down? Like a pack of lions and you’re just the meek prey, waiting for them to go in for the kill. Fuck you’d love for them to just tear you to shreds.
You stand silent for a few moments, trying to think of the best way to reveal your secret.
But turns out you don’t have to. Akaashi beats you to it.
“Y/n has been sleeping around with all of us.” You shut your eyes, crossing your arms and trying to seem small. You half expect popcorn to be thrown at you, for someone to yell, or storm off, but when nothing happens, you slowly raise your gaze to look.
They’ve moved. Akaashi and Kenma to your right and Bokuto on your left. Kuroo sitting, legs spread on the couch, leaned back as if he were still watching the long forgotten movie.
“Is that true y/n?” Bokuto speaks, his sweet demeanor immediately making you feel a wave of guilt. God, how could you do this to your friends? You could’ve had one, but you just had to have them all! Now you might not have any of them.
You nod, slow and timid, “Yeah. It’s true.”
“For how long?” Kuroo asks. His voice is stoic and low, almost unreadable.
“The whole time.” You squeak, eyes still fixed on the carpet below you.
“Why?” That’s Kenma speaking. There’s no hurt in his tone, but there is something dark. You’re too nervous to dissect it.
“I um…I overheard you guys talking about me. The day my wifi went out. I was still in the discord call.” You don’t look up to see their expression, but you feel the air of the room being sucked out as they each recall what you’re referring to. You shift on your heels, tears starting to pool on your lashes. “I totally understand if you guys don’t…” You can’t say it. The thought of losing any of them, not just for the sex, but for all the years you’ve been friends. It’s too much and before you can stop it, you let out a telling sniffle.
“Oh don’t cry y/n.” You aren’t sure who said it over the ringing in your ears, “No one’s mad. You’ll just have to make it up to us.” Your head perks up, a single tear falling down your cheek. You’re only confused for a moment. Only until you see the half lidded glint in Kuroo’s eyes. Or the way Kenma is looking you up and down. Or how Bokuto’s biting his lip. How Akaashi steps forward, brushing your hair over your shoulder.
“C’mere sweetheart.” Kuroo nods to his lap, urging you to take your place on it. You almost can’t believe it, but just like always, you’re totally helpless against Kuroo’s demands. You begin to step forward, but before you make it one foot, Akaashi grabs your shoulders guiding you to the ground.
“Crawl.” He directs, pointed and final. You don’t have a choice. You make your way across the room, crawling nice and slow, making sure to switch your hips just enough to give the others something to look at. You know it’s ridiculous. You know there’s still a chance they’re messing with you. But the heat of their eyes is too addictive. You just have to give them what they want.
When you finally make it to Kuroo, he helps you up, turning you until you’re sitting atop his thighs with your back to his chest. His heartbeat is racing against your shoulder blade and it makes you even more nervous. The entire thing was such a spectacle. But as much as you would never admit it, the ache between your legs has only gotten stronger since your secret was revealed.
You wanted them all and you were about to get them.
“Let’s get this off of you.” Kuroo whispers against the shell of your ear, tugging the hem of your shirt over your head. He then helps you to lift your hips, peeling the shorts you wore off until you only have your laced bra and matching panties to cover. You shiver, exposed to the air conditioned room. The only heat being from Kuroo and the embarrassment still coloring your cheeks. Your breathing speeds as you notice the others taking your position in hungrily. Your thighs press tightly together, but Kuroo is stronger.
“Don’t be shy. We’ve all seen her, isn’t that right?” He muses, hooking two fingers beneath the fabric and pushing them to the side.
You whimper as he spreads your legs further, effectively displaying your pathetic arousal to the others. Bokuto comes to your side, dropping to his knees, and lifting the cups of your bra until your breasts spill out with a fitting bounce. You hear him whine deep in his throat.
The others will take what they want, but you know that Bokuto needs permission.
“Go ahead Ko.” You whisper and he sighs as his mouth takes its place over your nipple, sucking and licking like his life depends on it. Almost instantly your back is arching into it, one hand weaving into his hair and holding him to your chilled skin.
It’s then that you hear the familiar buzz. The same one that's basically Pavlov'ed you into soaking yourself at the mere sound. Kenma’s vibrator. When he had time to disappear to his room to grab it—you aren’t sure. You can only think of the feel of it spreading your sticky folds apart. How he’s completely mastered the perfect amount of pressure to apply. He brings it to your aching clit, running small circles over the sensitive bundle, his other hand running two fingers through the accumulated slick and then showing it deep into your mouth. You groan around him and that makes Bokuto groan too. You see he’s stroking himself now.
As your body adjusts to the sensation of Kenma and Bokuto, something dull, round, and hot nudges your leaking entrance. Kuroo lines himself up, using your hips as leverage before pressing in, filling every inch of your desperate pussy. You try to moan, but Kenma just sticks his fingers further down your tongue. You gag, tears prickling your eyes.
Akaashi—ever the freak—just watches, stroking himself lazily as he watches his best friends envelop each other. You keep eye contact with him as a way to stay focused and he seems to be enjoying it—a permanent dark smirk etched across his face. His tongue running along the inside of lower lip.
It’s a scene from your deepest, most thoroughly buried fantasy. One you didn’t even know you had until now.
Being used. Being punished.
“One cock just isn’t enough for you huh?” Kenma growls, increasing the pressure on the vibrator, prying your legs apart when you try to shut them.
“Nah, she’s too desperate.” Kuroo pants. His grip on your hips becoming tighter. The fill of his cock becoming more mind numbing.
“Just a needy brat.” Akaashi mutters, his head tilting at the way you move one hand down to hold Kuroo’s heavy balls, the other reaching for Kenma’s prominent bulge—yanking it out and starting to run your hand over his veined, leaking cock.
Bokuto just flicks his tongue across your stiff nipples, totally mesmerized by the plush curves of your chest. Too enthralled to participate in the discussion. Too busy moving one hand to his shorts and freeing his cock. Too busy thumbing over his slit and running the salty pre down his shaft. You notice the way he twitches. It’s something you’ve seen many times. He’s already close.
“Hhaahfuck, I’m there.” Bokuto groans. He lifts his hips, bringing his cock over your chest and with one stroke, sticky, hot, white is released over your breasts. It coats your hardened nipples and drips down the curves. He falls back onto his heels, breathing heavy.
“What do you tell him?” Kuroo whispers into your ear as he transitions from long, deep thrusts to heavy, harsh pounds. Balls slapping against you with loud, wet squelches.
“Th—hhah—thank y—ou Ko.” You moan. Bokuto just laughs breathily and scoots back to watch. Meanwhile Kenma’s eyes follow the way Bokuto’s cum drips down your stomach. There’s a glint of something devious lighting his pupils. You can tell he’s getting close too. And just as you think it, he’s ripping his fingers from your lips, dropping the vibrator and pulling his cock out of your hand. He stands with himself over your stomach.
“Shit. Take it.” Kenma mutters as his own sticky mess spurts across your navel. With your mouth free you’re finally able to release the guttural moan that’s been stuck in your throat. It’s so warm as it drips down your tummy. So nasty. So perfect. He brushes his hand through his hair, sighing heavy as he backs away, joining Bokuto.
Without anyone else to touch you, Kuroo is able to bounce you furiously. You can feel his tip abusing your cervix with expert precision. Your tongue lolls out. He seems to be on the edge as well.
“Shit—I’m right there. C—can I?”
“Fuck! Y—es!” You’re right there with him. How could you not be? With the way his thick cock hits that sweet gummy spot so well. Or the way your clit is still buzzing from Kenma. Or how your sore nipples are still dripping white from Bokuto. Definitely by the way Akaashi has started to stroke himself faster, more intensely. Your eyes roll back, you can’t help it. “Oh fuck!” You scream as you reach your high, incoherent babbling being the only thing you can manage as Kuroo fucks up into you painting your tight walls with his cum. You both come down at the same time—you shaking while he shudders against your back.
Your body feels incandescently light. You almost don’t remember how you ended up in this predicament.
But it all comes flooding back when Kuroo pulls out and you’re left sitting empty, vulnerable, and alone for Akaashi to finish you off.
Your eyes follow him as he moves across the room, taking his place standing over you, slender fingers bringing your chin up to watch. One stroke…two…and then the release. Thick ropes of white cover your face, coating your adorable little pout. A breathy sigh sounds from his lips as he pats the tip over your upper lip, making sure every bit of it makes it onto you.
“Look at you.” He coos, backing away and looking at the mess which is you—trembling, cock drunk, and painted in all of your best friend’s cum, “Such a good slut.”
You look up to see them all staring down—all perfectly pleased with the sight. You lift a hand—Bokuto is the first to grab it, pulling you up and helping you to the couch. As you sit, you feel the release from Kuroo leaking out of you. The remains from Bokuto and Kenma tickling your ribcage as it trickles down. You can taste Akaashi on your lips. Someone hands you a towel, you don’t look to see who. You’re too embarrassed. Not by what just happened, but that you’ve been caught lying to your best friends for so long.
They must hate you now.
But then why is Kuroo bringing you a cold glass of water? And why does Kenma pick up your clothes, folding them neatly in a pile. And why does Bokuto bring a towel to cover you once your skin has been wiped clean? Why does Akaashi sit next to you, rubbing small, reassuring circles on your lower back?
“You guys don’t…you’re not mad at me?” You mutter, still feeling light and airy from being fucked so nicely. They sit around you, Bokuto lightly scratching up your arm, Kenma kissing lightly along your thigh while Kuroo rests his head on the other. Akaashi just playfully tugging on your earlobe.
Synopsis (3.5K words): After overhearing a horny conversation between your bsfs!Akaashi, Bokuto, Kenma, and Kuroo, you hatch a plan to make sure everyone gets what they want.
Tags: MDNI, timeskip, fem reader, Kotaro Bokuto, Keiji Akaashi, Kenma Kozume, Tetsuro Kuroo, bokuto x reader, akaashi x reader, kenma x reader, kuroo x reader, sub!bokuto, dom!kenma, dom!kuroo, verse!akaashi, free use sort of, bukkake, oral (f receiving), femaledom, nipple play, mentions of masochism, mentions of spanking, vibrator, bondage, squirting, cream pie
Pt. 2
Masterlist
So sorry I haven't posted the past week. It was actually the week from hell, but things are looking up! Anyways, I'm not sure how I feel about this post, but I have a part 2 where the reader gets caught if anyone wants it xoxo
It was a Friday night when things shifted between you and your four best friends, Kuroo, Akaashi, Bokuto, and Kenma. When the glass barrier of friendship you thought was so secure, was shattered into a million pieces. You were all on one of your weekly discord calls, talking about the various going ons in each of your lives, when suddenly your wifi surged.
“Oh shit. Can you guys still hear me?” You ask as the screen turns from off to back on. For a few seconds it’s just silence.
“Guess she logged off?”
“She mentioned her wifi has been acting up, she’ll probably join again in a sec.”
“Hello? Guys?” No response.
Weird. You can still hear and see them, but the screen shows you left the call. Must be a glitch.
You go to refresh your page, but just as your cursor hovers over the button…
“Dude she’s so hot.” Your fingers stop dead in their tracks. Kuroo is grinning like an idiot, running his fingers through his messy black hair.
“I know,” Bokuto nods, “I just want her to step on me—”
“Gross Ko.”
“You just don’t get it.”
“I get it.” Akaashi chimes in, “I’d let her step on my balls.”
“You’re all depraved.” Kenma adds, rolling his eyes.
“Oh please—weren’t you the one sending live updates of your boner in the group chat when she was wearing your headset last week?”
Your breathing halts to a stop. Are they talking about you?
They can’t be…
“What about that top she was wearing? Fuck—I could almost see her tits.” Kuroo groans and the others all murmur in agreement.
You look down at your tank top. Sure it’s low cut and a bit tight at the chest, but you didn’t think it was showing off that much.
“I love when she wears her hair like that—in a braid. Just want to pull on it.” Akaashi says.
“Or whip me with it.” Bokuto laughs.
Your hand moves to the back of your head and feels over the length of your braid.
They are talking about you.
Your cheeks turn red hot. You should really refresh the page. Fix the glitch and pretend you never heard any of this. But then again…why shouldn't you get to know what they really think about you?
So you lean back into your chair and listen.
They go into detail. All the times you wore your hair a certain way or tried a different perfume…wore anything remotely revealing…said anything with a hidden double meaning. They laugh and reminisce about how their saccharine friend was so clueless to how much they all truly wanted to corrupt her. How if given the chance they'd run you ragged.
You didn’t realize that your fingers had somehow moved into your pants. Or that they were nudging absentmindedly at the wet spot in the middle of your panties. You didn’t realize when you hooked beneath the hem and began to swirl around in your arousal. You only came to when your back was arching off your chair, pussy weeping, and whole body shaking as they discussed the various ways they’d like to bend you over.
It wasn’t a surprise that the conversation turned you on. You were always aware that your friends were good looking. This wasn’t even the first time you’d gotten off to the thought of one of them. Once when Bokuto lifted you by your hips to reach something on a high shelf. Another time when Kenma used his hand to guide yours in order to a clear a difficult video game level. That one day when Akaashi came over to help you study and you were ovulating and the way he kept chewing on his pencil eraser was making you go crazy. And then maybe once or twice to the memory of Kuroo dancing with you too closely at the bars.
So what?
You always figured that one day you’d slip up and take one of them to bed. But it never occurred to you that you could just have your pick. The choices ran through your mind until you felt dizzy. Bokuto is so muscular—you’re sure he could throw you around properly. But Kuroo had that charm—he could tell you to do anything and you would. Kenma is fun—you know you’d have a good time with him. And Akaashi is just so pretty…so alluring. Who to choose?
Who were you kidding—you didn’t want a piece—you wanted the whole pie.
But it wasn’t so simple. They couldn’t know you were getting with all of them. And they needed to think it was their idea. So, you decided to mess with them first. To give each of them a reason to take things to the next level in a way that wasn’t totally obvious.
The classic “accidental” nude.
Nothing crazy. Just you laid out on your bed, legs spread wide, two fingers plunged deep into your glistening hole, fingers fisting the sheets, back arched, head titled, lips spread in a silent moan. Again, nothing crazy.
It was perfect.
Besties Chat:
Y/n: (y/n sent an attachment)
Y/n: Oops! I did NOT mean to send that here. Please don’t look xx. It was for a tinder date.
No response right away, but one by one you see their little icons appear beneath the photo, revealing that they each opened the picture. And just as you predicted, one by one, they each texted you privately.
And so it began.
—
For all his muscle and brawn, Bokuto really likes being ordered around.
Right now you have him on his hands and knees. He’s begging at your feet.
“Keep stroking your cock Ko. Don’t make me tell you again.”
“I’m sorry!” He pleads, one muscular arm flexing up and down his leaking length. You’ve been edging him on for an hour now, per his request.
You watch as he strokes his thick cock. The tip an angry red from how many times you’ve pulled him back from his orgasm. He’s on the brink of tears, chin wobbling and eyebrows knitted together.
“Are those tears? Do I need to punish you?”
“Yes please!” He stutters, “Need to learn my lesson.”
“And what would you suggest for someone who’s been so bad?”
“Please please please step on me.” He whines, “I’ll be so good, please.”
You sigh dramatically, but oblige, putting your heel to his temple and applying just the right amount of pressure. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him wince.
“Ah, fuck—thank you.” He breathes, a tinge of masochistic pleasure outlining his words. “Can I please cum?” His wrist continues to work its way around his throbbing length. His forearms are beginning to fatigue. You smile to yourself. He looks so pathetic like this.
“Hmmmm…not yet.” You press into his temple with the slightest bit more pressure. He lets out a small whimper. “Not until I’m satisfied.”
You let your foot off him. His gaze meets yours just as you sit onto his bed and spread your legs, inviting him in. He scrambles across the floor, and eagerly places his head between your thighs.
Your fingers weave into his gray hair, tugging on the black roots as his tongue comes to meet your clit. Already soaked from the past hour of watching him grovel. His approach to eating you out is nothing short of worship—from the way he ends every open mouth assault with a loving kiss-to the way he can’t help but moan against your skin, sending electric vibrations through you.
His tongue flits against your hole before entering in, slowly unraveling you with each shallow drive. One hand has its thumb circling your clit, while the other continues to stroke himself. You smile lazily—he’s so sweet to you.
Your legs lock around his head as he brings you to the cusp, back arching off the mattress.
“Right there Ko!” You yelp. He drops his cock and pulls your hips into his face, burying himself in your slick right as you unravel. He’s groaning into you as your legs shake violently around his face. You almost have to pry him off when you’re done.
“That’s enough Ko!” You laugh. He pulls back, face shiny from your release, pupils blown wide, panting.
“Was I good for you?” He asks. So innocent. So sweet. You sit up and run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching in the way he likes.
“So good. I’ll even let you cum now.” His cheeks turn a deep scarlet as his gaze drops to between his muscular thighs where a sticky puddle of white already sits on the floor.
“M’sorry.” He mumbles, “You just tasted so good.”
You can’t help but smile.
“Good boy.”
—
Kenma has a thing for toys.
He likes experimenting on you. As if your body were a game and each new toy unlocked the next level. While daunting at first, it only took him one try to convince you that vibrators were fun, and from there you soon became addicted.
Today he’s got you tied down—each limb roped to a bed post. You’re blindfolded and naked on your back as Kenma circles you like a shark. In the darkness you feel something light and ticklish flutter across your stomach.
A feather?
You shudder from the sensation, a boisterous giggle erupting out of you, but with your arms and legs tied down, you can only squirm. Chills settle over your skin.
So helpless. So vulnerable. So into it.
“Stay still f’me.” He chastises as the feathery object flutters under your chin. “Like watching you take it.” He moves the soft thing over all your sensitive spots. Behind your ears, your chin, stomach, feet, nose…
Wet warmth pools between your thighs. He takes notice.
“Someone’s excited.” He teases. You hear him set the feather down and pick up something else. Something heavier.
Everything is still for a moment, until—
bzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The quiet hum of the vibrator. Your body tenses, not knowing when he’ll give it to you.
Kenma laughs, “Don’t be scared. You trust me right?”
You nod, biting your lip. You really do.
“Good.” Two fingers push their way past your lips and you suck. A subtle hum of approval is the only indication of him you get before the vibrator is brought to your core. Immediately your back is arching off the mattress. Usually he works you up, but today he’s got it turned to a high level right off the bat. It may have something to do with you beating him in a round of MarioKart this morning. His angry glare and the way he had gripped his controller had told you he would get his revenge. But that’s ok.
You wanted him to.
He drags the vibrator around, stimulating your already aching clit. You try lifting your hips, to chase the feeling, but he pushes you down.
“Next time, remind me to tie your hips down too.”
“Kennnnn.” You whine, but he just pushes his fingers back into your mouth. They taste like him. He’s been jerking off. The thought only makes you want him more. The thought of him getting off on you tied to his bed, wriggling and blind to his advances. Hot slick drips down your thighs. He swipes at it with the vibrator only to bring it back up between your folds.
He builds you up just like that. Every so often pausing to press a single kiss to your inner thigh.
You think you’re close. But it's different.
“W–wait! Something nngh…something’s wr—ong.” There’s a dull pressure lower in your belly. Familiar, but out of place.
It’s almost like…oh shit.
“Kenma!” You can’t see his expression, but you feel the way he presses the vibrator into you, letting it nudge that spot that just feels so right. You’re helpless against what’s happening.
He knows it. He’s counting on it.
“Just let go f’me.”
Your back bows off the bed as you squirt over the sheets. Your limbs struggle to brace yourself, the bonds are too tight. You can only lay there and let it happen. He circles you with the vibrations until you stop gushing fluids.
Thighs shaking and lungs gasping, you finally come down. Your body feels light, warm. He comes over and removes your blindfold. It takes you a second to adjust to the light, but once your eyes focus, you see Kenma with his typical nonchalant smile, vibrator still in hand.
“Catch your breath. I’m not done yet.”
—
Akaashi was similar to Kenma in the way that they’re both explorative. But while Kenma likes to test out new toys on you, Akaashi wanted to test out new kinks, and his imagination knew no bounds.
Since the beginning of your trysts, you’ve been tied up, gagged, edged, degraded, praised. For a brief stint, he’d been particularly interested in masochism, introducing you to the world of pleasurable pain. Both inflicting and inflicted. Your personal favorite being the time he dripped wax down your spine as he spanked your ass raw. You were convinced there wasn’t a bodily fluid you hadn’t come into contact with. Several of which, you had both agreed to never try again after the first time. Every time it was something new. Something fun.
Today’s fixation: nipple play.
You may or may not have borrowed some nipple clamps from Kenma. And you may or may not have asked him for permission first. No matter. They’ll be returned before he even notices they’re gone. After all—when Akaashi texts you that he’s been dreaming about playing with your tits all day, you have to indulge him, don’t you?
“Where did you find these?” He laughs as you pull the collared chain out from your bag.
“Uh—Amazon.” Your answer is less than convincing but Akaashi is too horny to question further. You had been extra diligent to wear your sheer white tank top, cold nipples practically clawing through the thin fabric. Just a little something to get him excited before starting.
He sets you in his office chair and peels the tanktop off you.
You’re a tad nervous. You hadn’t gotten around to trying these with Kenma yet so you aren’t sure what it’ll be like. But if it’s Akaashi, it should be ok. Because as much as Akaashi likes to experiment, he always makes sure you’re enjoying it too.
You’re clipped into the device. One clamp on each nipple, both connected to a metal collar around your neck.
The discomfort is loud at first and it takes Akaashi kissing sensual pecks across your shoulders before you can try to relax. He whispers praise into your ear, telling you how proud he is and that you’re such a good girl. Just when you’re finally able to take your mind off the pain, an eager hand reaches out and tugs on one of the chains. You feel the effect through your entire body. Like rippling heat surging down your spine. You almost feel light headed.
“Keiji—“
“I’m here.” He moves to his knees, still tall enough to maintain eye level from where you sit in his chair. “How’re you feeling?” He’s holding the chains, every micro movement making it harder to breathe.
“Hurts.” You whimper.
“Good hurt or bad hurt?”
“Good.”
He smirks at your words, satisfied that he can keep teasing, “Then I think these are ready to come off.” He uncorks the chains one at a time, the metal chain falling down into your lap. He moves them to the side, undoing the collar as well.
Your breasts feel numb and achy. You sneak a glance to your chest—nipples red, hard and stiff. His thumbs pass over them, ever so lightly, but it still makes you flinch. You suck in a breath through your teeth.
“Poor thing.” He whispers, his lips drawing in, dangerously close to the aching peaks, “Let me help.”
Your poor nipples feel so sore, every nudge of his tongue or scrape of his teeth is agony, but also heaven. He sucks hard, like he’s dying of thirst and this will save him. His hands wrap around your upper back, bringing him impossibly closer into your chest. He moans into your skin, the vibrations only emphasizing the ache.
Every flick of his tongue drives you further into a dizzying spiral. Every nip of his canine makes you lose your breath. Oddly, you can feel the sensation all the way down in your pussy. It clenches and begs for release.
He’s not even touching you there. But then why is the pressure in your tummy growing heavier and heavier.
Your thighs squeeze. He bites your nipple and tugs.
That does it.
A long, breathy whine falls from your lips. You feel the slick rush out of you, drowning your panties. You grab at his toned biceps, squeezing and clawing.
“Shit. So pretty.” He breathes, releasing your chest and licking a stripe from your collarbone to your jawline. You breathe out heavy–your sore breasts still recovering. Your eyes meet his.
“Next time, we’re trying these on your clit.”
—
Kuroo—to your surprise—was the most normal of the bunch. He mostly enjoyed laying together and watching a movie, typically abandoning the plot halfway through for you.
It always starts with neck kisses.
“Tetsu, I thought you were dying to watch this movie?” You giggle as his lips press lightly against the sensitive skin beneath your ear.
“It can wait.” He mumbles, turning his body to face yours—one arm beneath your head, the other reaching out to turn you into him. You like the way he holds you. It’s hard not to when his bulging biceps make you feel so safe. So taken care of.
“But what if I wanted to watch it?” You tease. You both know that you don’t give a shit about the movie.
“Then you can wait.” His teeth sink into the divot between your neck and shoulder. You suck in a breath.
Like always, he kisses you in a way that makes you numb to everything else. You barely notice when his shirt goes missing. Even less so when your own shirt somehow ends up across the room. You don’t feel when your pants are tugged off you, panties along with them. You’re unaware of the way he lifts you up into his lap, something hard and warm between your thighs.
You only take notice when he’s finally splitting you open, one veiny inch at a time.
“Oh Tetsu—“ Your head falls into his shoulder as he works you down his cock. Sweet kisses on your neck to ease the stretching pain. When you’re finally down, breathing heavy and already losing coherence, he smiles.
Kuroo likes it when you’re dumb. He likes the way his cock makes you forget about all your stress. The way you struggle to speak when he’s splitting you open. The way you sometimes forget your own name. He likes that when you’re like this, you’ll do just about anything he says.
“Look at you…taking me so well, hmm?” He coos, rubbing circles on your hips.
“Uh huh.” You breathe, slowly becoming entranced by the feel of him. His smell. His taste. All of it.
“That’s my girl. Wanna be good for me?” His words are like charmspeak. So simple, yet so persuasive. You don’t want to be good for him. You need to be good for him.
“Yes, p—please.”
You move on your own—sliding up just an inch or so before rolling your hips back down on him. A nice, wet squelch sounding out from where your bodies meet. Your eyes flutter open and shut, barely catching glimpses of the way he watches you work so hard for him. Each movement eases you open and soon you’re able to pick up the pace. Enough for your breasts to start bouncing. Enough for Kuroo to notice. Enough for him to pull your hair back, exposing your neck, and giving him a better view.
His tip brushes your cervix with every thrust, just how you like it. The whines that leave your throat are none of your business at this point. They’re just inevitable.
“You like that, don’t you?” He whispers, grabbing your hips and helping to roll you over his throbbing length. “You like milking my cock? Huh baby?”
“Y—yes! Nngh, want it.”
“Yeah? Say my name and I’ll give it to you.”
He’s taken over now, thrusting up into you. He’s moving so fast that you’re practically vibrating in his lap, eyes rolled back, mouth open wide in a silent moan. There’s a thick ring of creamy white circling his base, dripping down his heavy balls. You can tell he’s close by the way he bites on his lower lip. By the way his fingers dig into your hips.
Oh fuck—he’s right there…and so are you.
“Tetsu!” You cry, pulling his head into your chest as your body crumbles.
“Fuck, y/n.” He shudders—his hot, sticky release spurting into you, leaving you feeling stuffed.
As usual, you two stay like that for a minute or so before regaining clarity. Once he pulls out, he likes to watch himself spill out of you. Even more so, he enjoys the way you twitch when he stuffs it back inside with his long fingers.
He cleans you up and wraps you in a warm blanket. And like always, it ends the way it began—neck kisses.
Just until you’re asleep. He likes to cuddle you all night.
I will be slow to update the rest of the week! The fate of where I will live for the next 4-7 years is being decided on Friday and I’m too nervous to write lol. Also out of town which never helps :p
Embodied cognition: The theory that mental processes are deeply rooted in, and shaped by, the body’s interactions with the physical environment. Key examples include using physical gestures to aid thinking.
—
You were scared out of your mind on the first day of your Thermodynamics class. You had recently made the switch to physics as your major and were starting to feel like you had been way in over your head. The syllabus alone was 35 pages of dense course schedule, followed by the damning announcement that your entire grade would be determined by three cumulative exams. Yeah, the pressure was heavy.
But as you were skimming over the assigned readings and questioning your life choices—a low velvety voice sounded over your shoulder.
“Is this syllabus making you sweat as much as I am?” You turned to see a tall, toned boy with lily white hair and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen. He wore thick framed glasses, a Digimon T-shirt, and black sweatpants. You had smiled back, grateful for the reassurance that you weren’t the only one panicking.
“Not sweating, but definitely considering throwing myself out of that window.” You laughed, breath catching when he laughed too, showcasing his award winning smile. Who was he? And how had you never noticed him on campus before?
“Well that would be a shame, who would I ask to be my study buddy then?”
And with a quick exchange of names and numbers, you had suddenly found yourself in a study duo with Satoru Gojo.
Little did you know just how lucky you had been.
You soon discovered how gifted Satoru was. The guy absorbed lecture material like a sponge, his notes were more informative than the textbook, and he always had a knack for explaining things in a way you understood. There’s no doubt that it was a bit hard to keep up at times—he was, after all a genius—but he always tried to make sure you were on the same page. Even if it took until five in the morning, when you were both exhausted and delirious, he would still never send you home without making sure you had a solid understanding of the material first.
He became your lifeline in class. But something else kept you in his orbit.
He was cute. Really cute. Cute in a subtle way that you don’t really notice until you’re staring him right in the face. Like when he chews his lip trying to figure out a difficult equation. Or when you’re sitting thigh to thigh on the floor of the library and you can smell the subtle minty aroma of his aftershave. Or when he stretches and you catch the quickest glance of his v-line. Yeah, you were attracted.
You often found yourself getting excited for your weekly study sessions. Heart flipping in your chest every time he suggested meeting at his dorm. Words stuttering whenever he’d compliment your notes. Toes curling on the occasion when he’d praise you for getting a question right. Breath catching every time he referred to you with endearment as he often did. “Sweetheart, gorgeous, honey”. For some reason he preferred the hypocorisms to your name. You weren’t complaining.
He made it easy to care about thermodynamics for sure. And it reflected in your grade, A’s on the first two exams!
Yeah, the pair of you were quite the team.
—
The final exam was tomorrow and even Satoru was panicking. A 150 question test covering all of the material from the past semester. Genius or not, this exam was going to be rough. And that would explain why he was acting so weird tonight.
You two were currently attempting to relearn the equations needed for the math section of the test. But they were just so long. So complicated.
You’re huddled in a mountain of pillows on his bed taking a mental break, snacks and empty energy drinks strewn all over the hardwood floor. Satoru stands cursing under his breath, writing and rewriting the formulas on his whiteboard, trying to ingrain them into his memory. After messing up the same formula for the third time he throws himself next to you on the bed, sending a stack of notes tumbling to the ground.
“Just leave them. It’s hopeless.” He groans into the sheets.
“We still have—“ You check the clock, “ten hours until the exam.” He groans even louder at your lackluster reassurance. You feel awful. He’s always carrying the weight of your study sessions. For once you wish it could be you who shoulders the burden, especially after how much he’s done for you.
“Is there anything I can do?” You ask, knowing that the answer is a likely resounding ‘no’. He lifts his head and eyes you, glasses crooked on his face.
“Maybe. But you’d have to be open to it.” Something in his voice is off. There’s an air of anticipation. Like he’s been waiting for you to offer for a long time.
“You saved my grade Toru. I’d literally do anything if it meant helping you.”
His expression shifts. Something dark and mischievous blossoming in those mesmerizing eyes of his.
“C’mere.” Within a second, you’re being dragged beneath your arms until your back hits his chest and his legs encase you on either side. You barely have time to question it before your knees are being pushed apart—pants dragged off you.
“Toru w—what are you doing?”
“Studying.” He says it like it’s normal. Like he’s simply thumbing through the pages of a textbook rather than the hem of your panties.
“What does this have to do with st—“ Cool air meets the divot between your thighs as he rips the laced fabric down. Your left slack jawed and gaping at his audacity. At the sudden switch from the sweet nerdy boy you’ve been studying with all semester to…whatever this is. You feel his palm come down to cup you. “Satoru—!“
“Shh. I gotta focus pretty. This exam is worth 33% of our grade.” With expert precision that you wouldn’t have expected, he spreads your folds, opening you up to him completely. You’re already wet. It’s hard not to be when you’re studying with him. But before, he never had to know about it. He definitely knows now. “No wonder you can’t focus, you’re too busy eye fucking me and turning yourself on.”
“Toru, I—“
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not mad.” He slides his fingers in your arousal, coating himself before bringing his finger to your mouth and pressing past your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. “My study method isn’t working so I thought I’d try something new.” He removes his finger from your lips with a wet pop before returning to your pussy which is already aching for him.
“I don’t understand—”
“It’s called embodied cognition, sweetness. I gotta get the muscle memory down if I’m gonna remember these equations tomorrow.” The corners of his mouth tick up as his fingers starts to flick over you in quick, repetitive movements. Suddenly you understand. The erratic movements of his fingers. They’re not random.
Muscle memory. He’s using you to practice writing down the equations.
“So slippery.” He complains, shoving two fingers past your entrance and giving his thumb better leverage to etch out the material. Your back bows, fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps. “Much better, now stay still f’me.”
You try not to implode as his thick fingers drive into you with slow, precise juts. Meanwhile his thumb spells out symbols and lettering beyond your comprehension. A series of low whines and sighs fills the room. You’re trying not to be distracting, but you might as well have flames licking up your body. Every inch of your skin is on fire. Every nerve ending is begging you to move. Meanwhile, he just whispers formulaic nonsense under his breath. Seemingly oblivious to the way he’s slowly unraveling you. But as he hits his stride, as does his pace quicken. Your hips start to move with a mind of their own, chasing the high of his long fingers massaging your clit. Before you know it, you’re being slammed down into the mattress.
“Do I need to tie you down?” He snaps. You’ve never heard him so intense. So focused. He must really want a good grade.
“No Toru.” You whimper, chin trembling.
“Then be useful and lay still.”
It takes every ounce of self control for you to obey his commands. You’re focusing so hard on not moving that sweat starts to bead your hairline. You bite your lip until you note the bitter, metallic taste of blood. It’s nearly impossible, but you want to help him so bad. Just like he’s been helping you. And he just looks so focused. His fingers work so diligently. Fuck—you’ll spread yourself out on his desk tomorrow in front of everyone if it means he’ll get a good grade. Anything for him.
Another hand snakes up your top, pulling your bra cup below the curve of your breast.
“Hope it’s ok, this is just to help me focus.” He whispers as he begins to roll your hardening nipple between his finger pads. Going back and forth from tweaking the sensitive bud and massaging your soft skin.
“Oh—Toru.” You breathe, eyes rolling back. The sound of his name on your lips, so breathy and relaxed. It’s too pretty. You’ve messed him up, and he forgets what part of the equation he was writing. In retaliation he tugs on your nipple, making you yelp.
“S—sorry.” You whine, tears beginning to cascade down your trembling face.
“Just a few more sweetheart. You’re doing so good.”
A few more minutes pass and your self restraint is wearing thin. Every time you feel yourself getting close, he instinctively slows down, making sure you can’t interrupt his flow. Your body aches from the push and pull of his studying. You’re silently begging for release. For him to give in and ravage you thoroughly.
Somewhere around the fifth equation, you lose all patience. He’s too good. Too perfect. Too much. The dull pain of your nipples being used as a stress ball. The thick circumference of his fingers bullying your g-spot. The agonizing feel of him using your pussy as a whiteboard. Something pulls deep in your tummy. It’s different than what you’re used to. It feels like…oh shit.
“Toru!” Your vision goes white as you come around his fingers, back arched, your slick spouting out and soaking his bed sheets. He smirks as he finishes writing out the equation he was working on, even as your thighs clamp down on his hand and vibrate around him. You hear him hum in satisfaction—though if it’s from your orgasm, or his successful recall of the material, you’re not sure. A heavy sigh wracks your ribs as his hand pulls away and you come down from the high.
“Who knew Navier-Stokes equation was so practical.” He laughs, pulling your top down.
“You’re so full of shit.” You pant, “Studying my ass.”
“Oh I wasn’t lying sweetheart. Trust me, I feel much more confident now.” He pats your aching core once. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you go home until you’ve got it down too.” Your cheeks flush. But as you start to get up, he’s pulling you back into his chest.
“Toru—“
“Hang on sweetness, just one more and then we’ll take a break I promise. But I need you to pay very close attention.” Your hips twitch when his thumb once again finds the tired, sensitive bundle. “Tell me what this spells.”
You focus all your hazy attention on the movements between your thighs. The light pressure he applies makes your hips shake.
He glides up and across.
“…T?” You tremble.
“Good. Next.”
“O—oo.” The letter spills from your lips with a serendipitous moan. He hums, already moving on to the next.
“Hhaah—R?”
“Mmhmm.”
“U.”
“Good girl. What’s that spell gorgeous?” His lips ghost over the shell of your ear.
You sigh against his chest, “Toru?”
“That’s right pretty. I know the semester’s over tomorrow and we won’t need to keep meeting, but don’t forget—this is my pussy to play with, ok?” You nod, but he just clicks his tongue, “Let me hear you say it princess.”
You swallow hard, still feeling dizzy from the overstimulation, but hazy eyed and determined, you look up into those gorgeous blue eyes.
Synopsis (4.9K words): After your bsf!Tsuki so kindly volunteered to be your first kiss, you're now going over to his house for another, more important first.
Tags: MDNI, timeskip, bsf!tsuki, tsukishima x reader, first time, losing virginity, oral (f receiving), fingering, degradation, spitting, nipple play
You’re sitting on your best friend Tsuki’s bed. A place you’d been hundreds of times. Only—usually it was within a much more innocent context. But two days ago things changed. Two days ago—in a split second decision—your best friend had given you your first kiss. More than that—he had totally flipped your perception of your friendship upside down.
—
It’s not like you had never noticed Tsuki before. He was hot. That was just a fact that became apparent sometime around high school. But you never considered doing anything about it. No matter what, he was always supposed to be the same kid with nerdy glasses that you met on the playground and played dinosaurs with. It was never supposed to be like this.
But then why does this sudden development feel so right?
The day after your “kissing lesson” you had gotten a call from Tsuki, inviting you to his place on Saturday. He didn’t mention anything specific, but based on your conversation the other night, you were positive it had something to do with your patent virginity. That feeling was then confirmed when you received a text this morning telling you to wear something comfortable and ‘easy to remove’.
Which is how you ended up knocking on his door an hour ago (palms sweating and heart pounding), dressed in a pair of mid-thigh athletic shorts and your favorite baggy sweatshirt. Comfortable and easy to rip off at a moments notice. Although, you couldn’t help yourself from adorning your skin in a lacy pink matching lingerie 2-piece set that you had bought just for this.
He had opened the door, looking like he usually does—neat blonde hair, nerdy glasses, and an athletic sweat set—but for some reason your heart still lurched. Fuck. He looked good.
“I can order us some dinner?” He offered as you walked into his apartment, setting your things down on the counter, trying not to look like you were internally freaking out.
“Oh, I’m not that hungry to be honest.” Your tone was anything but convincing and before you knew it, you were being wrapped into a hug. Your head coming right in the center of his chest. Tsuki has never been a hugger, so you appreciated the gesture.
“We don’t have to do this, you know. Graduating a virgin is not a bad thing.”
Holy shit, he smells good. Is that cologne?
“No—I definitely want to...”
“Is it me? We can find someone else to..." He pulled away.
“No. It needs to be you Tsuki.” There it is again—that weird tension. Ever since your kiss, it’s been there—like a tight wire waiting to snap. Like at any second, either of you is gonna pounce on the other. “I mean as long as you’re still willing…I know I’m putting you in a weird position.” You had shut your eyes tight at the mild innuendo. Tsuki only laughed.
“I think you’re forgetting that this was my idea.” That’s right. It was his idea wasn’t it? You relaxed slightly and took a deep breath as he grabbed your hand and led you down the hallway to his room.
And that’s where you find yourself now. Sitting criss-cross over the sheets, leaned against his backboard while Tsuki sits—feet off the bed—in front of you.
—
“So how should we do this?” You mutter, barely audible. Fingers twirling your hair nervously.
“I assume you’ve…explored your own body before right?” He asks, trying his best not to embarrass you. You and Tsuki don’t really talk about your sex lives. Well—in your case, not so much sex life and more like quality time alone. Regardless, that sort of stuff never came up. So it was a bit awkward to discuss now, especially when you knew he was going to try and incorporate anything you said into today’s lesson.
You nod, eyes glued to your lap. Tsuki shifts, turning his body to face you more head on.
“Well what kind of things do you like?” He asks.
“You mean like…kinks?”
“Like anything. Kinks, toys, music, do you have anywhere specific that you want me to touch?” The thought that Tsuki was about to touch—like really touch—you, made your head swim. You threw yourself sideways onto his bed, both hands covering your eyes.
“Holy shit, this is so embarrassing.”
“It’s not—“
“Yes it is Tsuki!” You want to melt into the mattress. Maybe graduating a virgin isn’t so bad? Oh who are you kidding—ever since Tsuki taught you how to kiss, all you can think about is getting railed. More specifically, getting railed by him.
But he doesn’t need to know that.
“Would it help if I told you what I like first?” Your head lifts off the mattress and cranes to look at him. He’s moving closer, laying next to you on his side and propping himself up by his elbow. Something about the sudden closeness stills your nerves ever so slightly. Maybe it’s the familiar scent of his laundry detergent or the comforting sensation of his body heat radiating towards you, but it’s enough to settle you.
It’s Tsuki, you remind yourself. There’s no one safer to do this with.
“Ok.” You say. He clears his throat before taking a moment to think.
“So I really don’t have many, and we don’t have to do any of these if you don’t want to, but I like getting a little mean—“
“So degradation?” He nods. You’re not surprised. Tsuki has always had an abrasive and sarcastic side so it makes sense that it translates to his sexcapades.
“Also…crying, but I’m not going to push you to that today.”
“Do you have a favorite position?”
“Doggy.”
“Is that what we should try?” Your heart pounds.
Tsuki laughs, shaking his head, “Absolutely not. We’re gonna start with missionary, it’s the most beginner friendly.” You relax. Missionary sounds good. You notice he’s watching you, waiting for you to divulge your preferences. A reassuring hand reaches out and grabs yours. It gives you the courage you needed.
“For me—I don’t really know much about kinks yet. Maybe we can start vanilla?” He nods along, hanging on your every word, “Maybe some foreplay just to make it less scary… and I like when you touch my hips.”
“Is there anywhere else you like when I touch?” You can feel the heat rising into your cheeks. This is all becoming so real.
“I liked when you—um—touched my breasts.” You somehow say it without looking away. He blows air out his nose and bites down on his lip. The tips of his ears have gone pink. At least you aren’t the only one a little nervous.
“Noted.” He considers the onslaught of new information for a moment, “Any preferences for foreplay or do you need some help?”
“I think I need help.”
“Ok, I’ll take care of it. And I think that’s everything—wait. We need a safe word. Do you know how the traffic light system works?”
You nod. You’re familiar.
“Ok. Then…” His words taper, his eyes shift. You two are dangling along the edge of something terrifying. It was one thing to kiss each other. Friends do that sometimes, right? But sex? Even if neither of you said it, you both understood that this would call into question the validity of your relationship ever being completely platonic again. You knew that you were willing to take the risk. And judging by the way Tsuki’s been tenderly rubbing his thumb over yours for the past few minutes—he is too.
“I’m gonna ask now, but you can change your mind at any time.” He says slowly. Your heart is pounding in your ears. “Can I start?”
This is it. You say yes.
“So do I take my clothes off now?” You ask sheepishly. Tsuki snorts as he readjusts you. His hands guide your shoulders to the pillows until you’re lying down on your back. He sets himself to the side of you, one arm arched over your torso to support himself, the other leaning right next to your head.
“Relax y/n.” He sets his glasses down and lifts your chin to meet his, “There’s no need to rush this.” Soft, familiar lips brush yours. Everything you learned just a few days prior comes flooding back to you all at once and within seconds you’ve found a comfortable rhythm. Tsuki leads, but that’s how you like it. His teeth grazing your lips, tugging and nipping. The way his tongue flirts so masterfully with yours. He tastes like spearmint toothpaste instead of coffee. You find it endearing. He prepared for this.
His hands move more freely this time, now that he knows where you like them to be. He starts on your hips, just holding at first, but as your kisses deepen, so does the grip on your skin. Inch by inch he moves up, his fingers nudge beneath your sweatshirt, brushing your waist, cupping your ribs. He takes his time. When he gets to the band of your bra, he traces the outer edge, dipping his fingertip between the space where skin meets garment, and mapping the perimeter of your curves. Eventually when his hand comes up to fully palm you, you’re already arching into the touch and that makes it easier for him to snake his hand around and—using two fingers—unclasp your bra. You help him remove it, pulling it from beneath your shirt and tossing it somewhere off the bed. Your nipples poke through your sweatshirt, already stiffened.
Tsuki groans from the sight, circling his thumb once over the clothed peaks before going back under. His hands are warm as he kneads the soft plush of your breast. Your pulse speeds and your breaths shorten. He’s starting to grab harder at the same time his tongue swirls around yours. He’s giving it to you exactly how you wanted.
Your hands rest in the divot between his shoulders and neck, fingertips softly brushing against his hairline. One starts to trail its way down. You tug on the neckline of his shirt. You’ve seen him shirtless before. All the summer days spent at the pool or sometimes after a volleyball game when he needed to cool off. This shouldn’t be too different right?
He picks up on your intention, “Yours too. Off.”
You both take turns stripping your upper halves and staring too hard afterwards.
You at the marble statue-like abs he wears, and Tsuki at the way your breasts bounce slightly with the lift of your arms. It should feel weird for your best friend to see you like this. Why doesn’t it feel weird?
He reaches back out, both hands cupping your breasts and exhaling a quiet, “oh” when your skin erupts in goosebumps. You bring his face down to yours and practice your tongue rolls as he massages your chest. It’s almost funny how adamantly he’s paying attention to your breasts. It’s not like you never caught him staring. It didn’t happen often but it had certainly happened. Once or twice in middle school when you started to fill out your clothes more fully and then every so often at parties and gatherings when you’d opt for a low-cut top. You never put much thought behind it.
They were just harmless glances.
But when he drags his lips from yours only to flatten his tongue down on your stiff nipple while the other is pinched between his fingers, you wonder how harmless they had actually been.
He starts to suck. You let out a whine. The sight is dizzying. Tsuki’s eyes closed like he’s savoring every second, mouth moving over your breast like it’s his last meal. His tongue flicks out, whipping against the sensitive peak. Your hands move back into his hair, gripping harder now, pushing him into your chest for more. He groans against your skin, switching sides and leaving a trail of shiny spit behind.
You didn’t notice at first, but your thighs are starting to press together. The friction intermittently bumping against his legs and grabbing his attention.
“Need something?” He teases, biting your nipple and tugging.
“Ah! I um…oh fuck.” Your head falls back against the pillow, back arching and putting more pressure between your legs. “You’re so good with your—hhaah—tongue.”
“Think so?” He mumbles, mouth still full, “Wanna see what else it can do?” You nod and watch as he unlatches from you, flicking your soaked nipples as if warning them to stay hard while he’s gone. “Gonna take these off, mkay?” His fingers hook beneath your shorts and tug, bringing them to your ankles and tossing them away.
His breath seems to catch at the sight before him—your plush thighs squeezed together so tightly, wrapped innocently in pink lace and frill.
“Did you wear these just for me?” He whispers, a finger dragging across the lace—over the hem and then a vertical line between your wet folds. You shudder, one hand grabbing his wrist.
“…Maybe.” You squeak.
“Fuck. You’re so good to me.” He whispers, hooking beneath the fabric and ambling them down.
Cold air hits you right between your legs. You’re laid out—breasts bare, shivering pussy exposed. You never put much thought into how others perceived you. You liked how you looked and that was enough, but this just felt so vulnerable. What if he doesn’t like what he sees?
As if reading your mind, Tsuki presses a kiss to your forehead.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He says it like he means it.
You think he really does.
“Can I touch you?” His gaze is locked between your thighs, one hand running through his hair, the other waiting patiently on your hip.
“Are you gonna…?” Was this the moment?
“Not yet.” He reassures, “Wanna get you warmed up first.” You nod, giving him permission.
Long, calloused fingers spread you open before dipping between your thighs. You could feel how wet you were before, but hearing the quiet squelch of him dragging his digits up your core made you realize just how turned on he’s made you. He hums in approval, coating his fingers in slick while memorizing your anatomy.
Fingers are repositioned, thumb hovering over your clit while his middle and ring finger curved beneath you. He cups you like that, the entirety fitting in his palm—and then with a slight bend of his joints, you feel the pressure of his fingertips driving into you, thumb circling your clit in perfect pace.
“Oh my god.” Your back bends up. He sets you back down with a solid thud.
“Shh. I’m right here.” He pushes in further, enough to make you wince. It’s not too much—you’d definitely experimented with your own fingers once or twice, but his are just so much bigger. The stretch so much fuller. He buries himself to the knuckle and then curls inwards. Immediately you feel it. That weak spot layered deep inside you. He nudges it with expert precision. Your grip on his hair tightens.
“Yeah? You like that?” He sighs. You whimper back, unable to fully articulate at the moment. You sneak a glance and see as he watches himself work. His eyes moving between your puffy clit to where he disappears inside you. He’s slid down the mattress slightly. His face is awfully close to—
“Just a taste.”
You thought he was skilled with his tongue before, but you had no idea he was capable of this.
“Tsuki!”
Long, hedonistic drags of his tongue overtake your senses. He’s making out with your pussy, lips sucking and pulling at the sensitive skin in a slurry of sopping noises. You start to tremble as he licks hungry stripes across you. He removes his fingers with a wet pop and buries himself deep. Nose bumping the sensitive bundle of nerves while his tongue circles your aching entrance.
“Tastes so sweet.” He mumbles into your folds, pressing a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh before focusing in again. On reflex, your thighs buckle against his head, pinning him to you. You’re worried he won’t be able to breathe so you try to pull back but he’s keeping your legs in place.
“Lock your ankles.” He growls, barely comprehensible as his tongue slips past your entrance. Hesitantly, you listen—your legs crossed at the ankle over his shoulder, encircling and effectively trapping him between your thighs. The added pressure from the new angle is ecstasy. You can barely keep your hips from rolling into him. Something deep in your stomach lurches.
“Tsuki—s’too much!” He groans but pulls away, chin shiny. Your legs release him and fall to the mattress. Your lungs pant for breath.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I’m on a cloud.” You laugh.
“Good. I think you're ready.” He crawls over you, already parting your legs.
“Wait—should I—uh—do you too?” Your eyes slip to the large bulge in his boxers. Obviously you’d never given anyone head before, but he had just been so kind and you weren’t sure if it was typical to return the favor.
“Let’s save that for next time, princess. I want this experience to be for you.”
You’re so caught up by him calling you ‘princess’ that you almost didn’t even notice how he mentioned there being a next time.
He moves to grab a pillow which gets placed right between your lower back and the upper curve of your ass, angling your hips upwards.
“Feel free to move it at any point, this is just there to help you ease into the movements.” You nod against his shoulder as he positions over you, planting ginger kisses along your supple skin, making your breath quicken. You watch, wide-eyed as he starts to remove his boxers.
Since your first kiss, you had imagined what his dick might look like more than you cared to admit. You were pleased to see that he exceeds imagination. He was long—which you had guessed from the large size of his hands—and thick—which you had guessed due to how much you could feel through his sweatpants the other day. A long, prominent vein protruded the upper half of his length, ending right below the pale pink tip. Sure the size was intimidating. Nothing that big had ever been inside you. But the intense, growing need for Tsuki to take you completely superseded any hesitation about making it fit. Crying or screaming—it didn’t matter. You’d find a way.
“Color?”
“Green.”
“Perfect.” He pushes your thighs aside, just enough to place himself in between and line himself up. “If you don’t need to stop, but it hurts, just squeeze me. I promise you can’t hurt me.”
He takes one last look at you spread out before him. So pretty. So innocent. So...his.
You gasp when the fat tip brushes your clit for the first time. Already better than tongue or fingers. It jolts your hips, making Tsuki smirk. You thought you’d be tense, but with the angle of the pillow, it just feels right. He glides the tip around, dowsing himself in your slick, spreading your folds open. He can’t help but become entranced with the way your pretty pussy opens so willingly for him. How it glistens like it’s crying for him to put it in and make it better. All these years, your poor pussy waiting for someone to come and claim it. Tsuki was more than happy to end her suffering.
The tip catches on your entrance. It’s just the tiniest stretch, but it’s enough to drag a needy moan from your lips. He feels it too, head dropping and breath shaking.
“Can I—“
“Yes.”
He presses in. You can’t lie. It does hurt. He can tell by the way your eyes scrunch shut and you stop breathing. The stretch burns and you’re half worried you’re gonna split in half. Your fingers dig into his biceps, hard enough that you’re sure he’ll be bruised tomorrow. But he doesn’t flinch, he just watches every micro expression that etches your cute face. A low whine vibrates from deep in your throat, maybe it is too much.
But then—
He drags his thumb across your clit and softly rubs tiny circles just like before. Almost immediately your muscles relax and he’s able to push another inch deeper.
“That’s it, princess. You’re doing so well.” He keeps stimulating your clit, making sure your tense body knows that he’s going to take good care of it. Another minute of this passes before you finally feel the blissful pressure of his cock buried entirely inside you.
“Tsuki.” His name is a breath of relief from your lungs. He stays still, keeping you nice and full, letting you acclimate while he tries not to moan from how tight you feel. Tiny kisses are pressed into your neck and jawline. You could stay like this for hours if he’d let you. He would definitely let you. But you know that in order to really do this, you would need to move.
“How’s it feel?” He whispers. His cock flexes and you feel it pulse against your walls.
“Nngh—s’good. It’s s’big Tsuki.” Your eyes are foggy, eyelids fluttering. He licks a flirty stripe across your jaw and you giggle breathily.
“Gonna move now.”
Slowly, you feel as his hips draw back a few inches and then softly drive back into you. His hands grip your shoulders for leverage. Your mouth falls open. The room is quiet except for the low, breathless grunts from Tsuki and the choked, whiny moans from you. You’re so full. His cock presses your walls so snug with no room to spare. Every thrust brings the head to your cervix, gently kissing and retreating over and over.
His lips have found a new home on your collarbones while his hands wrap around your shoulders. Chest to chest. Heart to heart.
It's amazing. But as you open your eyes and see the crease of his brows, the rigidity in his shoulders, the way he's biting his cheek. It’s obvious he’s holding back. And you don’t want him to hold back. You want everything he can give you.
“Tsuki,” You breathe against his ear, his gaze meets yours, “I think—nngh—I want you t’be mean t’me.” He pauses a moment as if considering if he should indulge you. His sweet and gentle best friend, tight pussy sucking him in so nicely. He didn’t want to overwhelm you. He didn’t want to do anything that would make you need to stop.
But on the other hand, you felt so good wrapped around him. And your skin was so velvety. And your whines were so pornographic. And your eyes kept rolling back like such a good virgin. He wanted nothing more than to ram himself against your cervix. To grab your throat and squeeze. To fist your hair and pull until you cried. He wanted you shaking and stupid. He wanted to fuck you so hard that by the time he was done, the only thing you would remember was his name and that you belonged to him.
But would it be too much for your first time?
“Please, Tsuki.” You whined, pawing at his biceps, “Want it.”
How could he say no when your glossy eyes were staring up at him with so much sex drunk need?
Tsuki pulled out, leaving you confused and empty for a moment before ramming himself back in, bottoming out in one thrust. You screamed, back arching in a mix of pain and white hot pleasure.
“Shut up and take it.” He growls, one hand supporting himself on your face, fingers pushing past your lips for you to suck. You take him in gratefully, sucking his fingers while your pussy sucks his cock. His hips are relentless. He slams himself into you so hard that you can feel his balls smacking your ass. His fat tip hitting that perfect spot that tugs your navel over and over again. You can feel yourself dripping down your thighs—a loud suctioning squelch sounding every time he thrusts.
This—you think—feels right.
“Hhah—more.” You groan around his fingers, words muffled. Tsuki grabs your chin, spit gleaming your lips. He squeezes your cheeks together, opening your mouth just enough to loll your tongue out, and then spits, right in the center.
“Swallow.”
You push it down and open your mouth to show.
“Such a smart girl.” You think you could melt from the praise.
The brutal pace of his hips casts every thought out of your head. All you knew was to keep doing whatever he told you because he seemed to know what you wanted before you did. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He tilts your chin up.
“So good to me, hmm? Lettin’ me ruin your pretty pussy for anyone else.” He’s picked up the pace, each second sending you further down into his clutches.
“Jus’ for y—ou.” You stutter, eyes rolling back uncontrollably.
“Yeah? Whose pussy is this?”
“Y…yours Tsuki.” You mean it too.
He curses under his breath. He’s so close, but you come first. He drags his hand to your soaked clit, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bundle in small, practiced circles. Your hands grip the sheets, balling them up into your fists and tugging. Your skin burns and your head is empty of anything that doesn’t involve Tsuki. His scent, his feel, his words, his face. His cock.
Something rough tugs in your chest. Maybe it’s whatever hormones your body releases when you have sex with someone, but the sudden thought of spending the rest of your life with Tsuki crosses your mind. Of being his in more than just one way. Of endless movie nights and sleepovers and being there for each other the way you always have.
Your heart jumps and you’re left to wonder if it’s Tsuki or his cock you’re in love with.
Probably both.
“Tsu—ki, I think I’mmmnngh.”
“I know baby, I’m here when you’re ready.”
That does it. The switch back to sweet Tsuki is enough to push you off the cliff into bliss. In a long string of whiny screams, you’re coming undone over him. He looks down at where your bodies meet and watches as you shudder, thighs shaking, pussy squeezing—then back to your face. Your beautiful, sex drunk face. Tsuki thinks he’s never seen anything so perfect and it’s enough to send him over the edge too.
“Fuck, y/n.” He exhales, pulling out—thick white release spilling onto your weary thighs, thumb still circling your clit as you start to come down. It takes a moment for both of you to regain coherence, but once you do there’s a split second of what you can only assume is post nut clarity.
“We just—“
“We did.” His shoulders tense. He looks pale. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m not a virgin anymore.” You laugh. He lets out a breath and shakes his head.
“I’m serious, are you ok?” He looks so earnest and you suddenly feel brave. You pull him down into a deep and sensual kiss, nipping at his bottom lip the way he seems to like. Running your hands over his chest and abs and back up to his neck, then finally cupping his face.
“I feel better than I have in a really long time, Tsuki.”
You look up into his golden eyes.
Eyes you’d looked into a million times before.
Now seeing them in a totally different light.
“So…I guess you probably need me to go now?”
“You think I’m gonna send you home after taking your virginity?” He asks incredulously. You shrug—you have no idea how this is supposed to work. But just like your first kiss and your first time, he takes care of you with this too.
—
In typical Tsuki fashion, he had made sure that even the aftercare was done to top standard. A glass of cold water for you to sip as he cleaned off your thighs with a warm rag, delicate kisses pressed to your skin after every swipe. Once you’re thoroughly cleaned and hydrated, he slips into the bed next to you, opening his arms and letting you curl over him.
You weren’t sure if he was the type to keep a girl around after fucking, but you’re so glad he is.
“So…guess you’re like a sex expert now?” He jokes, scratching lightly over your back muscles.
“Some might call me a sexpert." You retort, tugging yourself closer into his chest. "I mean making you finish twice in one week...pretty impressive for my first try."
His head tilts back in a laugh,
“That was not the first time you’ve made me finish—“ He shuts his mouth tight, immediately realizing the implication.
He’s jacked off to you before.
“You’ve—“
“Please shut up.” He buries his face in his hands. A singular, disbelieving laugh escapes you.
“When—“
“I said shut up!” He lunges forward, capturing your face in his hands and kissing you deeply, tongue stuffed far enough down your throat to render you speechless. You smile against his lips, letting him hide from it. You’d tease him soon enough, but for now you just wanted to enjoy it. Enjoy kissing someone who you think is cute and sweet and seems to think the same about you.
When he releases you, you both just laugh, giggling into each other’s shoulders.
It hits you fully. A wave a possessiveness. This is your Tsuki. And you wanted to be his too.
You’ve already crossed over the platonic border, might as well go all the way.
“Tsuki…” He turns his head to look at you, “I don’t think I want to do that with anyone else.”
“Yeah. Me either.” He sighs.
“So does that mean—“
“Can I be your boyfriend?”
Your first kiss. Your first time. And now your first boyfriend.
You were in love with Tsukishima Kei and he was certainly in love with you too.
Synopsis (5.1K words): Y/n has been best friends with Hinata Shouyou for as long as she can remember. Always running around together, hanging out at one another's houses, and most importantly going on annual beach vacations with their families. But things have changed since high school graduation–Hinata went off to Brazil to pursue a career in volleyball while Y/n stayed behind to focus on her studies in University. Summertime is finally here again and for the first time in two years, both Y/n and Hinata will be coming on the family trip to the Beach House. Changed appearances, forgotten feelings, and ocean deep connection all illuminated under the hot summer sun. How will the two long-time friends manage to keep their cool?
Tags: MDNI, timeskip, hinata x reader, friends to lovers, bit of a slow burn, fluff, footsie, suggestive, drinking.
I wake the next morning to fingers poking my face.
“Let’s hang out today.”
“How are you not hungover?”
“An angel came to me last night and delivered water.” I open my eyes and see Shouyou grinning.
“So now I’m an angel?” I joke.
“She did look like you.” He pokes my cheek again, “Beach day?”
“Sure.”
And that’s how the next few weeks went. Early morning sunrises with Sho, beach days with Sho, meals with Sho, visits into town, midday wine binges, midnight walks, everything all the time with Sho.
Ever since the night at the bar, he’s been especially clingy—like he’s trying to apologize for letting me leave alone. I don’t mind the closeness. Obviously I want to make up for lost time, but being attached at the hip has been less than helpful in trying to avoid the growing feelings I annoyingly feel for him.
Our early sunrises are spent with him jabbering on about whatever dream he had the night prior while I stare in awe at the way the orange sun casts him in an ethereal glow.
Beach days are spent trying not to look at his sand soaked abs or imagine what’s beneath his clingy wet bathing suit.
At meals I’m transfixed by his lips, every bite or lick of his lips making me squeeze my thighs together.
Visits into town are spent testing my patience every time a new woman walks up to him.
Our midday wine binges are always cut short because I’m a light weight and one more glass means one step closer to laying him out and showing him just how badly I want him.
And don’t get me started on the midnight walks. Hands brushing together under starlight and ocean mist. I’ve started conveniently leaving my sweater at home on the cooler nights, just so Sho will offer his. He always does.
Weeks of trying to be careful. Trying to be good. But failing so miserably every time he speaks or touches me, or so much as looks at me in the right way.
Everyone has taken notice.
The Hinata’s asked if was feeling ok after Sho leaned over me to grab some popcorn during movie night, and I all but jumped when he used my thigh to support his weight.
My parents pulled me into the hallway one afternoon with concern, accusing me of being on drugs, claiming I was sweaty and flushed. Truthfully, it was because Sho had given me a lesson on how to serve properly—his arms wrapped around me and guiding my body to the correct positioning. It took Shouyou intervening to convince them that it must have just been too much sun that day.
Even Natsu has picked up on my behavior, coming into my room one night and asking me point blank if anything was going on between me and Shouyou. I tried to laugh it off, but the expression on her face told me she wasn’t convinced.
Despite everyone’s growing suspicion, I wasn’t too worried. As long as Sho didn’t notice anything off— as long as we could keep being best friends—then I could live with it.
—
The last Friday of every month, we always go out to dinner as a family.
I stand in front of my full-length mirror trying to decide which outfit I want to wear. Shouyou is splayed out across my bed—already dressed for the evening and playing with one of my hair clips.
“You better not break that.” I say over my shoulder. He mocks my words in an exaggerated high-pitched voice. I go back and forth holding a green patterned jumpsuit and a mid-length purple flowy dress. Both would be fine for the restaurant we’re going to, but for some reason I just can’t seem to choose.
“Sho, what do you think?” I ask. With haste he replies,
“Purple.”
“You just said that so I’d hurry up.” He rolls to a sitting position and shakes his head.
“How is it that even when I sit quietly and do what I’m told, I still get accused of being impatient?” He walks over to me, taking the dress and holding the fabric to my face. I can’t help but notice the cologne he’s wearing—something warm and woody with a sharp minty edge. “You look nice in purple, wear the purple.”
It is hot outside and I do like the way this specific shade makes my eyes pop.
“Fine. Out so I can get dressed.” Shouyou groans but immediately walks out the door, shutting it behind him. Once I’m dressed, I throw my hair up using the clip he left behind, apply a thin layer of simple makeup with a glossy lip and toss my jewelry on. Once I feel impressed enough with my appearance I spritz my new jasmine and green tea perfume, grab my bag, and head downstairs.
“I’m ready!” I call down.
“They went ahead!” Shouyou shouts back. Crap. I’m always getting shit for taking too long to get ready so I fully expect to get an earful once we meet them at the restaurant. I descend the final steps and see Shouyou waiting for me in the kitchen. He looks up as I round the corner into the room.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to make us late.” For a moment he just stares and I’m half convinced I have lipstick smeared all over me.
“Don’t be.” He responds. His voice is soft and forgiving. It almost makes me feel worse. I shift on my feet as he continues to look me over and in an attempt to ease some of the weird tension, nod my head towards the door. As if released from a trance, he twitches and grabs the car keys. I’m shocked when he opens the car door for me.
“Since when did you become a gentleman.”
“Since I was tasked with escorting such a pretty lady to a nice dinner.” My cheeks heat from his unexpected compliment.
I settle for some old school RnB and jazz playlist. The saxophone plays over the car speakers. It takes me a moment to realize we aren’t driving yet.
“What’s wro—“
“What are you wearing?” He interrupts.
“Umm…the purple dress you told me to wear?”
“No—on your skin, like your smell. What perfume is that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I just bought it. Why is it bad?”
He puts the car in drive, “No. It’s nice. Really nice.” He turns the volume to the speaker up and melodic, sultry beats hum throughout the car, vibrating the dashboard. I roll down the windows enjoying the chill night air and trying not to think too hard about him liking my scent.
The drive to the restaurant isn’t long and by the time we get there, we’re only 10 minutes past the reservation time. Still—I earn a particularly pointed glare from my mother. Shouyou—who ever so gentlemanly pulled my chair out—sits across from me with our parents taking the other four seats down the table. Thankfully the music in the restaurant hides the roaring coming from my stomach.
Tap, tap, tap. Shouyou knocks the edge of his shoe against mine.
“What?” I ask over my menu. He shrugs and sits back in his chair as if nothing happened.
Ok?
I shake my head and go back to deliberating between the shrimp pasta or the salmon.
Tap, tap…tap, tap. Our eyes meet and I shoot him a glare to which he smiles wide. I try to pretend that I’m not thinking about those teeth sinking into my neck…or those lips sucking on my skin…
Mercifully, the waiter interrupts my impure train of thought. We all order water with some wine to split amongst us. Shouyou suggests a Pinot Grigio—the same one I had been itching to try ever since I saw a travel blogger post about it. He sends me a wink as the rest of the table concurs with the selection. One by one our glasses fill with the chilled ivory liquid.
Excitedly, I swirl the wine around in my glass, but just as I go to take a sip, something snakes under my dress and up my leg making me choke on my drink. Our parents look up from their conversation as I attempt to collect myself. Hinata is not so efficiently holding back a laugh.
“ACKhem—Sorry—ACK.” I sputter and once they’ve all turned their attention elsewhere, I sneak a glance under the table. Beneath the cloth I see that Shouyou has discarded one of his shoes and is wiggling his toes at me. I shoot him a glare—which he pretends not to see, so instead I kick him, forgetting that I’m wearing pointed heels.
“Ow—fuck—seriously?” He cups his hand over the side of his face so our families don’t see his reaction.
I stifle a laugh and take several long sips of wine, “Sorry.” He shakes his head as the waiter comes up again. One by one we place our orders. A subtle warm buzz prickles from deep within me. I can already feel the effects of the alcohol. Taking a deep breath, I let myself relax into the comfortable restaurant seat. Today was nice. Today was normal. My phone buzzes in my purse and I go to check it.
<3 Sho: Act natural
Before I can ask what he means, I feel him toeing at the hem of my dress again. He tugs once…twice…three times before slipping under and nudging tenderly at my foot. I understand immediately what he’s planning.
Y/n: We are at dinner!!
<3 Sho: Come on, just like old times…
I know what he’s referencing. When we were kids and got dragged to long dinners, we’d play a game where we’d try to snatch each others’ napkins off our laps without getting caught by our parents. I always had the advantage given that growing up, my legs were longer than his. But it’s been years since we played and as anatomy would have it, he’s got the upper hand now.
Y/n: You don’t have to go under my dress to grab my napkin btw.
<3 Sho: Happy mistake ;)
Between my thighs, a pathetic flutter that radiates all the way into my stomach. I hope my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. Fine. If he wants to play, I’ll fucking play.
As discreetly as possible, I slip my heel off and hook his foot under mine earning a sultry smile from him. We wrestle back and forth for a minute as we tell our parents about our plans for the week, and the new bars we want to try, and blah blah blah. I dart left—he’s already there, I go from above and knock his knee, but he’s able to push me off course. He comes from the side and almost reaches the edge of my napkin, but I kick him down. It’s getting hard to hold back from giggling. Finally, my dad engages Shouyou in a conversation about the new surf shop opening in town.
Now’s my chance.
As subtly as I possibly can, I dart my foot towards his lap, but as if he had eyes on his thighs, I’m stopped. With a gentle thud, he pins my ankle to the table leg and as much as I try to break free, it’s useless. Years of riding his bike through the mountains and training for volleyball have really strengthened his calfs.
It dawns on me that he probably hasn’t even been trying up until this moment.
With his other foot he teases at my free leg. Just as I’m about to counter with a swift kick, Sho’s mother starts telling me about the new TV show she’s watching. Helpless, I try to engage in the polite chit chat while Shouyou takes full advantage.
Instead of going for the kill and snatching the napkin, he slips under the hem of my dress just like before. My pulse speeds with every inch he steals. I try clearing my throat, but he doesn’t so much as spare me a glance. Tenderly, he takes his time sliding himself up past my ankle, grazing my knee, and pausing right at my lower thigh. I’m not shocked at his flexibility, but the way he stays totally composed and unassuming on the surface is undeniably impressive. My face burns and I’m doing my best to not change my expression while he nonchalantly partakes in casual conversation.
“That reminds me of a movie I saw in Brazil. I think it even has the same actor—” His words are drowned out as he slowly makes his way up further. My breath stills—fingers gripping the tablecloth. Right as he reaches the soft, sensitive inner skin of my thigh—only inches from my throbbing core—he pushes until my leg has parted from the other completely and hangs over the edge of my seat. The cool air of the restaurant rushes over my exposed panties, only hidden from view by the white tablecloth.
My mind races—Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I vigorously try to ignore the pulsing want between my thighs. Ignore how good it feels to be pinned down by someone so strong. Ignore how helpless he has me with my legs being spread open in front of him.
What is happening? What is he doing?
He stares me down as he speaks—like he’s daring me to say something—to do something. He tilts his head innocently like he isn’t purposefully leaving me vulnerable and exposed.
Is it possible he knows about my change in feelings. Is he making fun of me?
“Y/n, you’re being awfully quiet.” My mom prods from across the table, tearing me from my mind spiral. As if commanding that I stay focused on him, Shouyou’s foot starts moving to my center. If he moves any further he will literally be toeing my clit. In a last ditch effort to save myself from publicly unraveling, I snatch the fabric from my lap and hand the white napkin over in surrender. Shouyou smirks as he takes it, letting my legs free in the exchange. I quickly cross them and notice a small wet spot dampening my panties.
“Sorry. I’m just really hungry.” I remark, utterly embarrassed at how quickly he caught me off my guard.
The food comes and the rest of dinner goes on as if nothing just happened. Shouyou—as always—is an excellent conversationalist and I chime in occasionally. Mostly though, I’m downing wine glass after wine glass and trying not to freak out over what just happened.
—
The car ride back is silent. I’m dizzy from the pinot and dizzier from how utterly confused I am. Shouyou can be naive, but he’s never been stupid. He knows what it means to spread a girl open in that way. Even someone you’d consider platonic. It’s intimate. Something you shouldn’t do with someone you don’t like in that way.
My mind goes back and forth from anger to suspicion to arousal.
How could he be so oblivious? Or is he completely aware and this was his way of reaching out? It doesn't matter. He shouldn't have done it so publicly. But holy shit, it was so exciting. No. It was dangerous. And why isn't he saying anything?
I don’t want to make it a big deal, but as we park it all spills out.
“Want to tell me what all that was about?” I snap.
“Oh you mean how you gave up so easily?” He knows exactly what I’m referring to, but still wants to treat it like a joke. Asshole.
“I mean how you were totally playing a different game than we agreed.”
“Don’t be upset that you lost fair and square—“
“First of all, you weren’t playing fair. What was I supposed to do, let you into my underwear? We were in a crowded restaurant with our parents sitting right next to us!”
“Are you saying that if we were somewhere more private, you would’ve let me?” I choke on my own breath as he smirks over at me.
“Don’t be a dick.” I roll my eyes and position myself to face away from him. I’m not looking, but I can feel the smugness melt from his expression.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” He pokes at my crossed arms, “Please don’t be mad.” Annoyingly, I feel tears forming at the edges of my eyes. My cheeks sting with embarrassment.
“I just don’t like the idea of being someone’s joke.”
“Who said you’re a joke?” A tinge of hurt traces his tone. Like I’m the one being careless.
“You know what I’m talking about Shouyou.” One tear falls down my cheek and I discreetly wipe it away. The only thing that could make this moment worse is if he knew I were crying over it. He tugs on my arm but I pull away.
“Y/n, I don’t know what you mean, but you’re not a joke to me.” He places a hand on my knee. My heart flips. “I’ll admit, I got a little carried away, but I would never laugh at you.” Quietly, I sniffle.
“Then why did you do it?”
“Fuck y/n did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I didn’t think it’d be—I didn’t —fuuuck, I wasn’t thinking straight. Please don’t be mad at me.” He tries my arm again, but this time his strength overtakes me and I’m reluctantly turned to face him, tears exposed. “Oh sweetheart, please don’t cry.” He pulls me in and I can’t help but release my sobs into his shoulder. Too buzzed from the wine to acknowledge him calling me sweetheart.
Waves of frustration release in the form of fat salty tears. The worst part about this stupid crush has been not being able to talk to my best friend about it. But maybe if I can just cry enough, I can go back to being ok with it without having to expose myself.
“Y/n. I’m sorry. I was being selfish, please don’t cry, I’ll do anything.” He rubs circles over my exposed back, cradling me close to him with his other hand. In between sniffs, I get waves of his scent, making me simultaneously want to cry harder and rut into him. I reflect on his words… selfish?
“What do you—sniff—mean, selfish?” Shouyou pauses, his hand gliding to a stop on my back. He takes a deep breath.
“Y/n, I—“
TAP, TAP, TAP.
We simultaneously whip our heads around to see my mother outside the window. I open the door.
“We’re going for a walk, you should—y/n what’s wrong?” She asks, likely noticing my puffy eyes.
“Think she had a bit too much wine. I was just about to help her upstairs” Shouyou replies, getting out the car then making a show of helping me balance to my feet, despite the fact that we both know I’m fine to stand on my own. I suppose it’s convincing enough for my mom though, because she only pats Shouyou’s cheek and walks towards the beach with the other parents.
By the time we make it upstairs, I’ve gathered enough willpower to stop crying. Nonetheless, Shouyou continues to treat me as if I were one pin prick away from deflating. He guides me by hips—agonizingly so—setting me on my bed and taking it upon himself to pick out some pajamas, settling on one of his old Karasuno T-shirts that no longer fits him and some flowy gray shorts. While I dress, he goes to the bathroom, bringing back makeup wipes and—against all protests, insists on being to one to remove my makeup for me.
“I can do it myself Sho.” I grasp at his wrists but he persists.
“Please let me make it up to you.” He drags the wet cloth over my eyes, definitely not applying enough pressure to take any makeup off, but the effort is noted.
“This really isn’t necessary. I think I was just…never mind.”
“C,mon, tell me.”
“It’s seriously nothing. Too much wine probably.”
“Y/n I’ve seen you down three times the amount of wine you had tonight and still carry out coherent conversation. Just tell me what’s going on.” His voice edges on pleading. But what can I say? I mean, what can I actually say to him? “Since when don’t we talk about things?”
“Sho, look—m’ just really drunk and dunno what I’m saying.”
My vision darkens around the edges and I find it difficult to keep my eyes open. Maybe it really was too much wine. A long yawn lulls my head down to the pillow where I curl into the sheets.
“Maybe tomorrow, kay?” I mumble as my consciousness fades into blissful drunken sleep. As I succumb to my exhaustion and transition into a dreamlike state I feel a wide palm cup my cheek and a pair of soft lips kiss my forehead.
Whatever dream this is, it’s nice.
—
My alarm goes off at 10:00 am. Shouyou must have set it. On my bedside table there’s a glass of water and some Advil. Also courtesy of Shouyou. I take them gratefully.
The details of the night are fuzzy, but I definitely remember the way he had me spread open at dinner. More embarrassingly, I remember crying into his arms like a baby afterwards. I slam myself into the pillows.
A knock sounds at the door. Shouyou walks in with a tray of toast and juice.
"Morning sunshine." He jests, setting the tray on my desk and coming to sit on the edge of the bed. "How're you feeling?"
"Like I was a drunk mess yesterday. I'm sorry."
"I don't know why you're apologizing. I was the one being a dick." He laughs, “I just want to make it up to you. I wasn’t…being myself last night.” He looks in his lap as he pulls on the hem of his shirt. I nod in agreement, though, deep down, I’m almost disappointed.
So it was just a fluke. It was just Shouyou being touchy. He doesn’t feel that way about me.
I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders. Maybe it’s not exactly what I wanted to hear, but at least this means we’re still friends.
“Don't worry about it Sho. Beach day?”
He perks up, obviously relieved at the suggestion.
—
We pack our stuff and head out around mid-afternoon. Dark, puffy clouds loom in the distance threatening bad weather, so we agree to only stay for a bit. Just long enough to refresh our minds and hopefully ease some of the weird tension between us.
Most of the swim is spent in silence. Shouyou paddling over waves and me skimming the bottom for shells. It's not until I find a particularly beautiful iridescent cowrie that I call him over.
"Gorgeous." He grins, taking the shell in his fingers and inspecting it closely. "Adding it to the shelf?"
"Yeah. I think it might be my new favorite." A gust of wind turns our attention to the quickly approaching storm. I'm not sure how we didn't notice sooner, but the waves have become especially choppy. We agree to head home.
“Let’s do a movie tonight?” He asks, a particularly harsh wave bumping us together as we wade in.
“Good with me, but please no more romcoms.”
Sho gasps dramatically, grabbing my arm and pretending to stab himself with it, “You wound me.” I laugh right as some seaweed tangles my foot and lurches me into Sho. Our faces brush past one another and for a split second we’re just inches apart.
“Oh wait—you’ve got some sand…” His thumb brushes against my cheek, wiping away the granules, “…got it.” He’s so close. Close enough that I can smell his aftershave mixing with the salt water. Close enough to see my reflection blinking at me in his amber eyes. His hand is still on my cheek.
Why is it still there?
A wave knocks into him from behind and he’s pushed into me. Our bodies collide. I lose footing and fall backwards, taking him down too. For a few moments it’s just tangled limbs being knocked around by ocean current. At some point, I lose track of his body next to mine. The sea floor becomes harder and harder to reach. I think I’m being sucked into a current.
“Sho!” I yell out, ocean spray inhibiting my vision. Using all of my strength I try to propel myself forward by pushing off the sand bar. I’m able to bear forward a few feet. A flash of wet orange hair catches my eye, he’s made it back to shore.
If I can just push myself a few more feet, then I can probably stand—something moves next to my foot. It wraps around.
Blinding pain shoots up my leg, pushing me off balance. I crash into an oncoming wave, head going under just as I scream out. Salt water walls thrash me around and suck me deeper. Panic is setting in and I can’t distinguish which direction is up. My lungs burn for breath so bad that it rivals the intense shooting pain in my leg.
I’m going to drown if I don’t swim.
I was so close to shore. So close to safety. Is this it?
Two familiar hands sent straight from heaven wrap under my arms and tug me to the light. I’m dragged to the shoreline.
Bitter salt water pours out from my lungs. I’m heaving and sputtering, tears pouring from my eyes. I can sense Shouyou kneeling over me, one hand light on my lower spine, the other holding my hair back.
“Are you ok?” His voice is shaky and uneven. I can’t answer. I can only cough and try to get a good breath. My fists ball into the wet sand as rain drops begin to cascade down on us. The cool mist from the incoming downpour helps me to ground myself and finally I’m able to take a satisfactory breath.
“Sho—“ My voice comes out strained, still waterlogged. My vision is blurred from all the tears so I don’t see when he moves in.
I just feel the pull of two shaking hands dragging my face into his.
Saltwater taste is replaced by sunscreen and chapstick. It’s quick, and in the confusion of almost drowning, I almost don’t believe it’s really happening. But when I open my eyes, I see Hinata—eyes shut tight with worry—kissing me. Just as I register what’s happening, another wave of pain overtakes my leg and I remember the jellyfish. The kiss breaks.
“Fuck!” The pain is overwhelming, spreading up my leg and making me feel dizzy. My vision blackens on the edges and the beach seems to rotate. I think I’m going to pass out.
“What is it!?” He yells. His eyes search me over until he sees where I’m holding my leg. Red blistering skin, aching and burning under my palms. “Shit—I don’t—I’ll uh…come here.”
The last thing I remember before losing consciousness is the weightlessness of Shouyou carrying me up the beach, whispering to hold on.
—
When I come to, I’m in a hospital bed. Bright lights and odd mechanical sounds disorienting me. The only thing keeping me from panicking is the comforting feel of my best friend’s hand intertwined with mine.
“Shouyou?” I croak, still confused.
“Y/n! Are you ok? How are you feeling?”
“My leg hurts.” My chin trembles as the details start coming back to me. The storm that must have blown in quicker than we thought. The current pulling me out. The wave. The jellyfish. Did Shouyou?…no. He wouldn’t have. I must have been delirious.
The door to the room opens and a woman in a white coat steps through. She introduces herself as the doctor and goes on to explain how they soaked my leg and gave me some IV pain medication for the time being, but I’ll be sore for a few days. They also had to give me oxygen from all the sea water I took in, but my levels are all stable now.
“It’s a bit early in the season for a Lion’s Mane jellyfish, but the wind from the storm probably pushed it closer into shore. You’re lucky your friend was with you to pull you out.” She looks me over one more time and then clears me to leave as soon as my parents show up with the car.
I guess in his panic, Shouyou didn’t think to call an ambulance and carried me all the way to the emergency room on foot. It was just a a half mile from the beach, but it must have been difficult with the rain and my dead weight. Once she’s gone, I’m wrapped up into a tight hug.
“We are never swimming in the ocean again.” He whines. I can’t help but snort.
“Give it a week.”
“No. I’m serious. The whole time I was dragging you back to shore, I thought…” He can’t finish the sentence, but I can imagine what he was going to say. I recall the way his voice shook as I choked up the seawater. I had never heard him so worried. My fingers ghost over my lips. I seem to recall something else.
“Shouyou…what happened when I got back on the beach?” He shuffles in his seat, hand still firmly holding mine.
“How much do you remember?” His voice is quiet, cautious.
“I think all of it, but…I need to hear it from you.” The way he looks down. The way his leg taps nervously. Something did happen.
“I just thought that—“
The door opens and my parents shuffle in. Shouyou releases my hand.
“Sho—.”
“I’ll see you at home.” He turns swiftly, greeting my parents—ignoring their looks of concern—and then leaving me to consider the weight of what I now know.
—
“Where’s Shouyou?” I ask as my mom tucks me into bed. I had expected him to be here by the time my parents checked me out of the ER, but his shoes weren’t by the front door.
“He’s out right now. You need to rest anyways.”
“When will he be back?”
“Y/n. You need rest. No Shouyou until you feel better.” Her words make me feel like a kid again, but seeing how I can barely walk and my phone was apparently left on the beach leaving me with no way to contact him, I have to listen.
—
My leg throbs as I lay awake. Several hours have passed waiting for the familiar sound of his footsteps coming to sneak in, but the only noise is of the wind and rain rattling against the roof. I’m starting to get nervous. What could he possibly be doing in this weather, this late at night? Especially when he knows his best friend is at home and in pain.
I can’t help but wish he was here in my bed. After weeks of being together constantly, this sudden isolation feels crippling.
I turn my head and see that it’s midnight on the dot. The sound of the front door opening, jolts me up. I crane my ears, heart pounding as he comes up the stairs and down the hallway. I pray that my doorknob will turn. That he’ll walk inside and ask to stay.
I won’t ask about the kiss. I’ll just let us be together.
We’re still friends, right?
Timid footsteps pace outside my door, once…twice…and then turn. I hear the creak of his door shutting. Thunder rumbles overhead.
Synopsis (2.3K words): When you can’t afford to pay rent anymore, you work out a deal with your seven roommates that involves another method of payment. (Frat brothers: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Sukuna, Toji, and Choso)
Tags: MDNI, jujutsu kaisen, fraternity brothers: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Toji, Sukuna, and Choso, fraternity, free use, marathoning, maledom, talking you through it, oral (f and m receiving), face sitting, voyeurism, overstimulation, mommy kink, period sex, cowgirl, nipple sucking, double penetration, dildo, gagging, degradation, breeding kink, size kink, creampie
It was Junior year of college when you needed to find a new place to live. Your credit score was low and no matter where you applied, no leasing agency would accept someone with your income. You were just one week away from needing to sleep in your car when you bumped into Satoru Gojo from your physics class at a party. Five drinks in and you were blabbing all about your money problems and living situation.
That night had mostly been a blur and the last thing you remember before getting a cab home was Gojo introducing you to several of his handsome frat brothers/roommates.
The next morning you had received a text from your classmate,
Satoru G. (Physics lecture): Talked it over with the guys. Extra room is yours if you still want it.
And just like that, you had partied your way into securing a new home. So you packed your things and went to meet your new roommates officially. All seven of them.
Satoru Gojo (physics), Suguru Geto (anthropology), Nanami Kento (economics), Hiromi Higuruma (pre-law), Ryomen Sukuna (business), Toji Fushiguro (kinesiology), and Choso Kamo (general studies). All frat brothers. And all unbearably good looking.
People may think living with seven frat guys sounds like a nightmare. But really it wasn’t bad at all. Satoru had hired a maid to come once a week so the house was never filthy. You were invited to all of the frat parties since you lived there, and that meant free, unlimited alcohol. If your car broke down—which it often did—you had seven guys at your disposal who could either take a look or give you a ride. You never felt unsafe due to your seven pseudo-body guards. There was always someone to open jars. And most importantly, because there was so many of you in one home, rent was cheap. Really cheap.
Of course, living with that many men did have its moments. There was the occasional brush up against you that always felt intentional, and the feeling of being watched every time you bent over to pick something up, not to mention the frequent tug on your intuition that told you someone had been in your room while you were away at your classes. Yes, the tension was always there, but it’s not like you minded.
You weren’t innocent either.
It was common for you to sneak a peak when one of them would walk through the house shirtless or when they’d wear their frat’s gray sweatpants that showed off their bulges so perfectly. To pretend to trip just so you could stumble into a set of warm biceps. You may have asked for one too many back massages to anyone who would oblige. And don’t forget all those times you would walk past one of their rooms and hear the intimate sounds of their sacred alone time.
It never grossed you out. In fact, you may have even disappeared to your own bed for a bit of sensual relaxation, encouraged by the carnal grunts echoing through the walls.
Yeah. Living with seven frat guys wasn’t so bad.
That’s why, when your job laid you off, you panicked. You had no savings and rent was due in a week. You were screwed.
Defeated, you called a house meeting, tears pouring from your eyes before you even sat down in front of the seven confused men. You sobbed into a pillow explaining that you’d understand if they kicked you out. You could always drop out of school and go live with your parents in your home town again.
You expected cold indifference, apathy, a swift goodbye. But instead you were swept into a hug, each one of the frat brothers taking their turn showing you some form of comfort.
They didn’t want you to go. They liked having you around.
“I think we can work something out that benefits us all.” Satoru said, the others all nodding, all sharing the same thought. You agreed. You were thinking it too.
And that’s how it started. That’s how you became the houses frat bunny.
—
Satoru was probably the one who visited you most frequently. His approach to sex was cocky. Lot’s of teasing and shameless flirting. But you had to admit, he could back it up. Aside from the way his heavy cock seemed to form to your inner walls so perfectly, it’s like he knew exactly where to touch you to send your nerves into a frenzy. As if he had some sixth sense to find your g-spot every time. Satoru enjoyed pushing you to your limit, trying out the most impossible positions just to see if he could still make you orgasm. He always did. It didn’t matter what position he tried. Jackhammer, butterfly, butter churner, basically anything that involved acrobatics and contortion, Satoru was interested. And just when you thought he was done, when you’d figured he’d orgasmed to exhaustion, he was pulling you back onto his bed, convincing you to let him try one more position.
“Come on sweetheart, let me fold you into a pretzel. I bet I can make you squirt again.”
You would just sigh, stretch your aching muscles, and let him move you around like a rag doll until he proved his suspicion correct.
—
Suguru would mess with you all day before finally taking you fully. He liked the thrill of foreplay. Of bringing you coffee and some breakfast when you wake up. Of watching your body react when he’d purposefully brush past your ass with his morning wood. Of offering to give you a massage after class and spending extra time on the soft plush of your inner thighs, but not taking it further. Of letting his lips ghost your ear when he’d lean in to whisper something funny, giving you goosebumps. He’d let you turn yourself on and wait for the inevitable knock at his door that evening. When he finally had you—legs spread and pussy clenching—he’d talk you through it. Coaching you down every inch of his long, veined cock. Explaining every thrust and roll of his hips before he did them. Making sure you knew that he was in charge and he was going to take care of you.
“That’s it baby, just one more inch, you can do it…atta' girl.”
He’d drag your orgasm out slowly, letting it build and crash down on you hard. By the time you left his room, you weren’t sure if the sex had been his idea or yours.
—
Hiromi found himself knocking on your door a lot around midterms. He was stressed, sleep deprived, and needed a good distraction.
What better way to destress than by having such a pretty girl sit on his face?
He’d approach you casually, pushing whatever homework you were working on to the ground and lifting you over his shoulder, tossing you on the bed, and spreading your legs wide for his easy access. He’d hook a finger into your panties and tug them down your thighs. If his week had been especially tough, he’d pocket the damp cloth, telling you it was his good luck charm. Then he’d scoot himself beneath you, your thighs bracketing his head. He’d tell you to put all your weight down on him and that he could take it. Then he would bury himself in your pussy, wet disgusting sounds filling the house. He’d flatten his tongue against your entrance, licking all the way up to your clit and flicking his tongue. Hiromi liked the way your thighs squeezed together when he would tongue fuck you, the bridge of his nose grazing your clit in just the right way. He’d lap you up until stars bursted behind your eyes and you screamed his name into your hands.
“You taste so sweet, angel.” He’d groan.
You always think he’ll stop after one orgasm, but Hiromi has a really stressful schedule so he really needs to pull a few more out of you before he feels satisfied.
—
Nanami likes to watch. He especially enjoys seeing the way Hiromi could make you overstimulated so easily. The way your body trembles uncontrollably, words incoherent, brain numb, mouth dumb. He’d sit in the corner for most of it, stroking his length slowly and working down each fat bead of pre until his entire cock glistened. He was quiet while Hiromi worked, but when Hiromi left…when you were a shaking, overstimulated mess on your bed…that’s when Nanami would move in. He liked how your overworked pussy flinched as his fat tip passed through your entrance. How your legs shake hard enough to vibrate his heavy balls. He liked the way you were already too fucked out to speak by the time he had his way with you. Every thrust sent you reeling. You were too stiff, too sore, too stupid. It was too much and that’s how Nanami liked it.
“Fuck, you look so dumb sweetheart. But your pussy’s takin’ me so well.”
He liked fucking you until you were on the brink of passing out from overstimulation. Oftentimes you’d wake up, a pool of Nanami’s release on your stomach and a rag next to you on the bed. It would make you smile as you cleaned yourself.
—
Choso—without fail—would appear at the same time every month, your period. It would start with him sneaking in in the middle of the night, waking you from sleep by crawling under the sheets and rutting into you. Once you were awake and aware, he’d ask you to sit on his cock, cowgirl style. He didn’t mind the blood. Actually it seemed to turn him on more. And you certainly didn’t mind, his rolling hips were a welcome distraction from your cramps. Choso liked calling you ‘mommy’ and had an unyielding fixation with sucking on your swollen, aching tits. He’d flick and bite and tug at your sore nipples until you were whining into the silent night. Until chills covered your skin, head to toe. Meanwhile he’d just watch through half-lidded eyes, moaning into your breasts.
“Wanna make you feel so good mommy. Wanna be a good boy.”
He’d let you bounce on his cock until you were both shuddering against one another. Until his cum would start to leak down your thighs and your nipples were borderline in pain. Then he’d take you to the bathroom, run you both a warm bath, and make sure your cramps were manageable before letting you go back to sleep.
—
Sukuna was like a starving predator and he waited until you least expected it, to pull you into his room, locking the door behind you, and throwing you onto the sheets. He enjoyed stuffing you full. Every hole had a use and he was determined to take advantage of this. Three, sometimes four of his fingers stuffed down your throat, making you gag and drool. His swollen cock plunging his cum into your ass while the XXL dildo he ordered abused your sopping pussy. Or maybe he’d switch it up. He’d have his cock buried so far down your throat, that his throbbing balls would rest under your chin, meanwhile he’s stuffing his entire fist into your clenching pussy and making you sit on the dildo till it’s bottomed out. He’d just watch you struggle. Watch how you tried so hard to keep up with him. That determination in your eyes is always what made him cum. And just when you thought you were about to finish as well, he’d take it all away, leaving you desperate for more. Sukuna liked when you were broken. Legs shaking, chin trembling, tears streaking your cute, pathetic face. He’d have you get on your knees and beg him for release.
“Make me believe you deserve to finish, slut.”
Your cute lips would waiver and as you tried your very best to coherently beg for relief, he’d just lazily drum his heavy cock on your face.
Sometimes he’d give it to you, other times he’d just sigh and nod for you to get out of his room.
—
Toji—like Choso—also paid attention to your monthly cycle. But he waited for the week when you smelled just a little sweeter and looked at him like you wanted to tear his clothes off. Ovulation. He liked the thought of pumping you full of his seed. Of folding you into a mean mating press and letting loose. The thought that one day it might stick and you’d be bound to him forever—fuck it made him so hard. Of all the boys, you struggled to take Toji’s dick the most. The sheer size made you question if it would fit every single time. He loved when you’d flinch as the tip stretched you open. He thought it was cute how small you were compared to someone as beefy and muscular as him. And how despite your struggle, you still took every inch like such a good girl. Toji especially liked catching you off guard by bottoming out in one hard thrust. You’d scream out and try to crawl away, fingers gripping the sheets. Oh he loved when you tried to run. He loved grabbing your hips and yanking you back onto him. He loved hearing you cry about how his cock was too big… too much.
“Actin’ like you’ve never taken my cock before. Be a good girl and take it.”
Your eyes would roll back and your tongue would loll out as he filled you to your limit. Large amounts of cum pouring into you, which he would keep plugged up. He can’t wait to see you swollen with his baby.
Synopsis (2.7K words): After the sudden realization that you’re about to graduate college without ever kissing someone, your bsf!Tsuki offers his help.
Tags: MDNI, timeskip, bsf!tsuki, tsukishima x reader, first kiss, French kissing, dry humping, groping over clothes.
You’re an hour into the movie you decided on watching tonight with your best friend Tsukishima Kei. Right about now it’s at the part where the romantic tension has reached its boiling point and the couple on screen is about to suck face.
Something tugs in your chest. The way the couple is holding one another. Their desperate expressions. The way their lips touch. You realize you’ve never had that.
You’ve never been kissed.
“You good?” Tsuki asks, grabbing the remote to turn the volume down slightly. He’s always been able to pick up on your mood shifts easily, sometimes even before you do. It’s one of the things that makes him such a great best friend.
“Yeah it’s nothing, just…you’ve kissed a girl before…right?” He seems to stiffen slightly before clearing his throat.
“Well, yeah? I mean I’ve had girlfriends.”
“Oh, right.” You know this. You’ve met every girlfriend Tsuki has ever had, but now that you think about it, you never considered he was kissing them. Obviously it makes sense that he would, but it’s just...Tsuki is so…touch averse? You can’t recall a single time you’d seen him hug or even hold hands with someone. Not to mention, his relationships never lasted more than a few months. Each time one would end, you’d ask Tsuki about it and he’d just shrug saying something along the lines of,
‘She was too clingy’, or ‘Not for me’, or ‘It wasn’t serious’.
So really how much kissing has he done? …More than you apparently.
“What about you? Have you ever kissed anyone?” You shift in your spot on the couch. It’s not that no one was ever interested in you. You had been asked out several times throughout college. But you were just always so swamped with classes, and work, and hobbies, and your frequent hangouts with Tsuki, that dating was never on your radar. But now with graduation only a few weeks away, you couldn’t help but feel like you missed out on a pivotal college experience.
“No.” Tsuki pauses the movie, adjusts his glasses, and turns to face you. Eyebrows scrunched together.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean…no! I’ve never kissed anyone.”
“What about that guy from your chemistry class Freshman year? I thought you guys went out together.”
“We went bowling. And he was really handsy so I never saw him again. Definitely never kissed him.” There’s a brief stint of silence.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with not having your first kiss yet. So don’t feel bad.”
“I don’t feel bad, I just feel…left out?” You start to play with a loose string on the couch. Tsuki plays with his fingers.
“Do you want me to go find someone to kiss you?” He asks innocently. You scoff at the thought of Tsuki going up to some random guy and saying something like, ‘Hi, wanna be my best friend’s first kiss’. You know it wouldn’t actually be like that, but it would certainly feel that embarrassing. You want someone familiar. Someone you already have a connection with. But graduation is so close. There’s no time to find someone like that in time.
“No. I’d rather it be with someone I know.”
“What about me?”
Your heads snaps up. What did he just say?
“It was just an idea—“ A brilliant idea.
“Yes.”
And that’s how you ended up inches away from your longtime best friend, Tsukishima Kei.
—
You both turn to face each other. His hand reaches out, pushing one strand of hair behind your ear.
“Never let anyone kiss you without asking first.”
“Tsuki, you don’t have to teach me about consent—“
“Just promise me.”
You click your tongue, rolling your eyes, “Fine.”
“Ok.” He adjusts his body, one leg hanging off the couch, the other folded in. You scoot closer, both knees tucked underneath you. You think this is the closest you’d ever been, proximity-wise to Tsuki. You’re so close, you can smell his body wash. It’s nice. “Can I kiss you?” You can’t help but notice how your heart jumps just a little. Tsuki can be intimidating. He’s so tall and always has that ‘don’t talk to me’ look on his face. Not to mention his default sarcastic tone that runs off even the bravest of people. So now—hearing his voice so soft—asking if he can kiss you. It’s really sweet.
“Yes, please.” One slender hand gently holds your cheek, guiding you forward.
Kissing is warmer than you thought. Softer.
“Relax.” He whispers and you realize you had been puckering. Taking a breath, you lean back in, lips limp and asking to be shaped.
“That’s better.” He mutters.
You let yourself get used to the feeling. To the taste. Tsuki tastes of black coffee—like a shot of deep, rich espresso. It’s comforting and so classic. Tsuki is an inveterate coffee drinker, so the fact that he tastes like it makes sense and also makes you giggle.
“Something funny?” He asks, lightly nipping at your bottom lip as he does. You like the sting of his teeth grazing you and so you decide to try it on him. Just a quick peck of your canine. “Ohhh, someone’s a quick learner.” He smiles and starts to kiss you deeper. You let him lead. Long, slow, rhythmic collisions. Every so often he pulls back, dragging your lower lip with him, just to come back and kiss you fully. You start to understand the dynamics and tilt your head just barely—enough so that he can get a better angle. His fingers hold your face close to keep from drifting. You realize your own hands sit idle in your lap. They want to move too.
You go for his arms first. Just placing your hands gently atop his forearms and then sliding up to the thick of his biceps where you squeeze. You knew Tsuki worked out. He actually just signed to start with the Sendai Frogs after graduation. So you knew he had muscle. But you never felt the results of all his time in the gym.
You felt it now. You felt it even more as he flexed for you.
Your breathing stutters, “Show off.” You mumble against his mouth.
“You seemed curious.” He kisses into you deeply again, one hand leaving your hip to knot itself into your hair. The pace slows, you're starting to feel like something is missing. He seems to pick up on your worry.
“Try using your tongue.” He directs, parting his lips slightly to allow you entrance.
Your first attempt is clumsy. Your tongue fumbles around, bumping into his teeth and gums.
“You’re supposed to kiss with it, not lick me.” He mumbles against your mouth. Defeated you pull back, a string of spit still connecting the two of you.
“I’m so bad at this.” You whine, hands covering your eyes. He pulls them away, forcing you to look at him.
“You just need practice. And maybe a better angle.” Leaning back into the couch, he sets both feet on the floor. You sit perplexed for a moment, thinking he’s done until he pats his lap, nodding at you to hop on.
“Are you sure?” You ask, already starting to climb over him.
“Can’t let my best friend graduate without knowing how to French kiss properly.”
You straddle him, hips firmly planted against his torso. You’ve never sat on a guy in this way. You’ve never sat on anyone, period. It feels intimate and close. Like something you should be doing with a boyfriend, not your best friend. But the only person you want to be doing it with right now, is your best friend.
You don’t know if you want to think about what that means.
“Comfortable?” He questions, his grip settling on your hips. His hands are so long that the fingertips rest right on the upper curve of your ass. You wonder if you were to shift just right, if his hands would possibly…slip. On accident, of course.
“Yeah, you?” You drag your fingers through his hair once and then perch them on his shoulders.
“I’m not complaining.” He smirks up at you. “Ok, so the best way to French kiss is to go in as you normally would, then once you’ve set a good rhythm, slowly open your mouth up, and lightly find their tongue with your tongue. I’ll show you and then you can try.” Your heart races with excitement. Kissing is nice on it's own, but kissing with Tsuki is electric.
Just as explained, he kisses you like before, lips blending together in perfect synch, and just as you feel yourself fully melt into it, his lips part. You part yours too right as you his tongue runs over the inner edge of your bottom lip. He’s smooth—slow, but not glacial. You feel when his tongue finds yours and then the way he nudges it playfully before pushing in and taking you with him. He uses his jaw to brush over you, lifting your tongue up and osculating you as if you were a scoop of ice cream. You feel how he slides back, his tongue leaving, mouth slowly closing, and finishing the kiss with a wet brush of his lips against yours.
He pulls back, opening his eyes, “Do you understand?” You nod your head, mouth agape. You finally understand why all those weird couples like to chew on each other’s faces in public. When it feels that good? You wouldn’t care who saw either.
“I liked that.” You whisper, eyes dazed, pupils blown wide. Tsuki chuckles quietly. He looks proud of himself. Normally you’d check his ego, but he is doing you such a big favor so you decide to let it slide.
“Now I want you to try doing it.”
You lean back in, doing it the same way he did until your tongues meet. You decide you want more than what he showed you. You want something with passion. So right as you relax your jaw into his, you start to apply more pressure. Your hands move from his shoulders to his cheeks, holding the two of you together. Your lips part wider. You let your tongue flick over his, caressing and mapping him out. The taste of coffee starts to become addictive on your taste buds and you deepen the kiss greedily. He’s taken aback at first, but quickly adjusts, his own tongue pushing back until you’re wrestling. Saliva pools on the corners of your mouth. Wet kissing sounds fill the air of your living room.
Your skin feels hot. Your head feels dizzy. A new and unfamiliar feeling blooms between your thighs. A feeling that your instinct tells you will be satisfied if you just grind down. So you do.
“Oh—Tsuki.” You can feel him beneath his sweats. Hard, hot. Pressing up against you in a way that feels so right. You grind down again, his hips meeting you halfway.
“Shit.” He exhales, both hands back on your hips, holding you down.
It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out you’ve never held or even seen a dick in person before. Usually kissing would precede something like that and given that this is your first time kissing someone, it’s obvious you’re inexperienced. But you make several observations anyways.
He’s big. And long.
The bulge itself is enough to stimulate you despite the several layers of clothing separating you two.
You want to know more. You want to know what it feels like. Is it smooth or rough? Veined or not? Curved or straight? Does the color of his tip match the soft pink of his lips? What does it taste like?
Your fingers absentmindedly reach for his waistband. You start to reach into his boxers.
He grabs your wrist before you can.
“Tsuki?”
“Not tonight.” His breaths are heavy. It’s obvious he’s holding himself back, “I want you to get comfortable with kissing first.”
“Sorry, I should’ve asked—"
“I said ‘not tonight’. I didn’t say no.” He removes his glasses before flipping you onto your back. You part your legs and he takes his position between them. You two are a hurricane of lips, tongue, and teeth. He starts to bite your lips harder, making you whimper. You match the rolls of your hips with the rolls of your tongue and savor each groan he lets slip. “Relax your bottom lip for me—thaaaat’s it.”
He continues to coach you until you don’t need it anymore. Until you move expertly without direction.
He pulls away for a moment, just enough to catch his breath. But you’re impatient. You latch yourself onto his neck, making out and sucking on the musculature.
“Is this right?” You ask, licking a stripe across his collarbone.
“Hhah—yes that’s right.” You must hit a sensitive spot because he shudders, hips folding inward and grating harshly up against you. “Fuck.” He drops his head, “Can I touch you?”
“Yes. Please.”
His hands move over your chest. He grabs at your breasts, squeezing and massaging. Thumbs drag over your clothed nipples, stiffening them to hard peaks. You can’t help but arch your back into his touch. You want more. More pressure. More skin. But he contains you. Only letting you experience one first at a time.
But as much as he’s trying to hold back, you just feel so good.
His grinding becomes faster, more rabid. You forget to keep kissing him and release a long and borderline embarrassing moan from the pressure. Tsuki pants against your ear.
“I need to stop.” He breathes. You whine, arching into him and then plopping back onto the couch. He eyes you down. “Are you close?”
You nod. That tight coil in your abdomen ready to burst.
“Shit. Ok, come here.” Instead of meeting you with his hips, he slots his thigh between your legs. “Ride it.” You’ve never followed directions quicker. He kisses you deeply, tongue swirling over yours as you chase the high against his leg. The seasoned muscles flexing and hitting you right where you’re most sensitive. Heat spreads up your spine and down your limbs. You’re right there—
“Tsuki!” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into you. He holds you firmly as your body shakes, as you unravel beneath him. Your breaths slow as you come down and finally you dare a glance at your best friend. His eyes meet yours, wide.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” He gasps. You look between your bodies, where a small wet spot sits right in the middle of his pants.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
You let him get up and watch as he all but jogs to the bathroom. You bite your lip to keep from laughing. You don’t want to embarrass him and if anything you feel a little proud making your best friend cum without touching him. Pretty good for a first kiss. Anyways, you basically just fucked yourself on his leg, so it’s not like you have much room for gloating.
When he returns he’s wearing one of the fresh set of sweatpants you keep in your closet for him. He drops himself back onto the couch, much closer than he usually does— thigh touching yours and one arm draped over the back of the couch where you sit. He sets his glasses back on.
“So…what did you think?” You realize how cute he is when he’s nervous. You don’t see this side of him very often.
“I think that was the best first kiss I could’ve asked for. I’m um…glad it was with you.” He smiles wryly, scratching the back of his neck.
“Me too.”
You both sit for a moment with that. With the fact that you’re glad to have kissed one another. Then you ask if he wants to finish the movie.
Right as he goes to press play he pauses, looking over at you. You’re playing with your hair, one of your classic nervous tells.
“What’s wrong now?” You feel warm from how easily he reads you.
“Tsuki…when I tried to…touch you—you said it wasn’t a no?”
“I did.”
“What did you mean by that?” He pauses for a moment, considering his words.
“I meant that if you don’t want to graduate a virgin, maybe I can give you another lesson this weekend?” You both smile at each other.
Synopsis ( 4.6K words): You're stranded at your academic rival, Suna Rintarou's home in a blizzard. Temperatures are dropping, but the tension is only getting hotter.
Tags: MDNI, timeskip, suna x reader, smut, academic rivals, spicy thermoregulation, cockwarming, sort of somnophilia, degradation/praise, finger sucking, gagging.
Masterlist
Pt. 1
*I wrote this last year and am not sure how I feel about it now lol, but here is part 2 for those who asked!
You decided—against all better judgement— that you liked kissing Suna Rintarou. You liked how he tasted like spearmint toothpaste and Aquaphor. You liked that when he would bite your bottom lip hard enough, he'd apologize with a kitty lick to the sore spot. You liked how expertly he swirled his tongue around yours. You liked the way his hands explored every inch of you absentmindedly as you sat straddled across his lap. Most importantly, you liked how wrong it felt.
You weren't supposed to be kissing him. You definitely weren't supposed to be liking it. But seeing as you're stuck here, might as well have some fun.
The blizzard—which had kept you from leaving only minutes ago—continues to show no signs of stopping and actually seems to be getting worse. You peak out the window as Rin licks a stripe from your collarbone to your ear.
It's as if a grayish white, hazy blanket has blocked your entire field of vision. As far as you can tell, the world outside is frozen and uninhabitable. So it's really not that you're choosing to stay here, cuddled up on Rin's couch and swapping spit. If anything it's survival. That's what you tell yourself at least.
"Hey, eyes on me." He says, voice muffled against your skin. You look down to see those half-lidded green eyes watching you intensely. It almost puts you on edge. He seems to take notice and pulls back, head leaned against the cushion of his dark green couch. "What're you thinking about?" He asks.
"Nothing—"
"Bullshit. You get that same look in class whenever you can't figure something out."
"Excuse you, there's nothing I can't figure out."
"Bet you haven't figured out how I beat you in our chess match yet."
He smirks in the same infuriating way that he does when he thinks he knows something you don't and suddenly you remember why you can't stand him. You take your hands off his shoulders, crossing your arms.
"Come on, tell me what's going on in that cute head of yours." You roll your eyes.
"Don't patronize me Suna."
"Patronize—? How is asking you to open up patronizing?"
"It was the way you said it." You can feel your blood start to boil. He's so arrogant. You can't believe you let him boss you around all night. Sure it was fun and there's no denying you were into it...but now you have to deal with his giant ego.
"Oh? How'd I say it?"
"Just forget it."
"This is just so like you—you always have to have an attitude about everything."
"Maybe I have an attitude because you're always an asshole."
"Am I an asshole or are you just easy to mess with?" Even in your arguing you can tell he's enjoying himself.
"Messing with me for fun would make you an asshole."
"You seemed to like it earlier."
"Oh grow up Rintarou."
He laughs, low and quiet, hands just barely holding you steady in his lap.
"Ok fine, I'm sorry. I am an asshole, does that make you happy?" You can't help but smile slightly at hearing those words come from his own mouth.
"Maybe a little."
"Good. Now come back, my lips are getting cold."
You lean in, but right as your nose bumps his, the lights goes out, casting the entire place in frozen darkness.
“Shit. Must be from the storm.” He says, lifting you off him and walking over to try the light switch.
Flip, flip, flip. Nothing.
Already the air of the dark room seems tinged with bitter chill and you realize that you might be in for a longer and colder night than you previously thought.
Using his phone flashlight, Rin goes to the kitchen and brings back several tea-light candles, passing you a lighter.
“Light these while I look for more?” You oblige and one by one the candles cast a soft orange glow around the room. Shadows flicker on the walls, making the place seem smaller. Icy winds rattle violently at the windows. You suddenly feel a bit frightened.
"Rin?" You call out. You can hear him shuffling around somewhere, but you can't see more than a few feet past the candle light. A particularly strong wind gust shakes the walls and you jump. Goosebumps line your arms both from the quickly dropping temperature and the howling sounds from the storm outside.
"Rin!?"
"What's wrong?" He returns carrying a large mound of blankets pinned beneath his arms. You take a deep breath.
"Nothing. Just wondering where you went."
"Don't tell me 'little miss perfect' is scared of a blizzard?"
"Be quiet." You groan. He chuckles and gestures to the mountain of blankets on the couch.
“It might get cold, heater's not working either.” He states, draping the comforter from his bed over your shoulders. He grabs a thinner blanket for himself, tugging it tight and sitting on the floor next to you.
“Won’t you get cold with just that?” You ask, one eyebrow raised. He looks between the two of you.
“I’ll be fine, I don’t want to make you feel cramped.” You roll your eyes and extend the comforter to him.
“Just get in, dumbass.” Relieved, he scoots in until your bodies press together. He takes his end of the comforter and wraps it to the front so that you’re encased. Already your skin feels warmer, but there's still an undeniable chill that permeates through and you get the feeling it will only get worse.
For a few moments, you both just sit, wrapped together and trying to warm up. The sounds of the storm pick up.
Being so close to him, you catch a scent of whatever shampoo he uses that you didn't notice earlier. It’s spiced and warm, reminding you of a less bitter, but still chilled autumn day.
You pull out your phone which only blinks the 'no signal' icon back at you.
“Storm must have knocked out the cell towers too.” He mutters, holding up his own phone which shows the same.
"Damn. So I'm really stuck here, huh?" You lean back into the foot of the couch, fingers tugging on a string of the comforter. You try to ignore the way your joints begin to stiffen from the growing cold. You just hope the blanket will start to help soon.
"Do you really hate me that much?" He says it like a joke, but you find yourself feeling bad.
Is this the way you would've wanted to spend your Friday night? Shivering and huddled next to Suna Rintarou...no. But, it hasn't been all bad. And besides as much as he annoys and vexes the shit out of you, you definitely don't hate him.
“I don’t hate you.” You whisper, leaning your head onto his shoulder for some extra warmth, “You just...frustrate me.” Your teeth start to chatter. You're getting cold and fast.
“How so?" His voice is low but soft. Like he's actually curious about your feelings towards him.
“You’re just so good at everything—"
"You're good at everything too."
"Yeah, but it doesn’t help that you can be so cocky about it sometimes.” Your skin shudders from a sudden chill. Your cheeks feel stiff. This blanket isn't doing anything. Rin is saying something, but you can't even listen. Tiny tremors begin to shake you. Your skin hurts from the cold air. Is there a window open somewhere? How is the temperature dropping so quickly?
"Y/n?"
A foot nudges yours, gently at first, but then jerks away.
“Holy shit, you’re ice cold!” He exclaims. Holding his phone's flashlight to you, you see his expression shift to a look of worry. “Y/n your lips are blue.” Before you can react, he’s taken off his shirt and is pulling it over you, the residual heat from his body seeping through the cloth and into your frigid skin. It's nice, but it's not enough.
“Th-thank you.” You shiver. It's hard to see him in the dim light of the room, but you feel the way his gaze bores into you, like he’s worried you’ll shatter if he looks away. Shakily, you huddle your knees up to your chest. “It’s fine Rin. The sh—shirt is helping.” He keeps watching. You want to know what he's thinking. If your fingers weren't so numb, you might reach over, drag him and those sculpted abs towards you. But instead you just curl up.
“You’re still shivering though.” He says it like you weren't aware. You huff.
“I’ll be fi—“ Before you can finish your thought, his arms wrap beneath your thighs. Ignoring all protests, he scoops you up along with the comforter and carries you off, back to his room. Walking slowly in the dark so as to not bump into anything.
"Rin!" You're struggling is useless. His arms hold you down easily.
"Still so bratty, even when you're freezing to death." He sighs, dropping you onto the mattress. You prop yourself up and lean against the backboard, shivering against the empty sheets. The sheets you were laid out in only an hour ago. "Why didn't you tell me you were so cold." He reprimands, walking to the side of the bed you lay on.
"I don't know. It just happened so fast." Long fingers graze your icy hands.
"We gotta get you warmer." Is that worry you hear in his voice? Could Suna Rintarou actually be worried...for you? "Take your clothes off." He says.
Okaaaaay, guess not?
"Excuse me?" You shiver, trying to make out his silhouette standing over you.
"Come on, I'll take mine off too."
Has hypothermia set it? Are you hallucinating? Is Suna really suggesting that in order to get warm, you need to... get naked?
"I c...can't tell if you're j...oking." You feel his weight join yours on the mattress, he rests at your feet, hands tugging the edges of your pants until they slide off your waist. The air hits you like a truck.
"Rin! It's freezing!"
"Come on, we went over this in physiology."
"Huh?"
"Oh right, I did get a better grade than you in that class." You'd slap him if you weren't trying to conserve your energy. "What's the quickest way to warm someone who's hypothermic y/n?"
It drives you insane knowing that under different circumstances you'd be acing his questions with ease. But the cold from the blizzard air is making your brain fog. Of course Suna seems to be having no issue. So fucking typical. He smirks haughtily while you think,
"I give up." You chatter.
Rin responds by removing both your shirts and his pants. You can't see too well in the dark, but you feel as you're dragged into a cuddle with him. Warmth flooding over you. You suddenly understand exactly what he's talking about.
"The quickest way to warm someone up is skin-to-skin contact."
The comforter is pulled over the two of you. You nuzzle into him—nose buried in his shoulder, feet tangled with his, arms tucked safely under his embrace. The heat encircles you, slowly thawing your stiffened bones until you're able to completely melt into his touch. It's not perfect, but the shivers have subsided.
You feel something press into you. He's hard. You both seem to realize it at the same time.
"Sorry, can't help that." He mutters and you giggle.
"Wow Rin, I didn't know you were so obsessed with me."
"Psh. I'm not but he might be."
"Oh gross. Don't tell me you refer to your dick in the third person."
"Only to piss you off."
You roll your eyes and huddle in closer. Trying to ignore that his cock is radiating heat. You feel it just sitting there next to your legs. If you were to just reach down and grab it, it'd probably be like holding a torch. You know it would warm you up better than huddling together. But that would be weird, wouldn't it. Just holding it. Using him like some perverted misinterpretation of a hand warmer. Although, the thought doesn't disgust you. Actually...it kind of turns you on.
"Is it ok if I get a little closer?" You ask hesitantly, hoping he understands your meaning. Of course he does—it's Rin.
"Do whatever you need to. Don't be shy."
You bring your hips in flush to his, your thighs pressed right up against his thick length. Immediately it's an improvement, warmer.
"That better?" He asks, adjusting so that your head can lay on his chest. You hear his heartbeat, fast and strong.
"Better." You're not lying. You do feel warmer on the outside, but there's still a hint of cold that swirls around inside you. Latching onto your bones and denying you comfort. "I think this is as warm as I'm gonna get."
"Still cold then?"
"A little."
"Maybe if we add some friction..." His words taper off. The hot heaviness of his cock slides between your thighs. He's like a fire, flames licking at your skin, luring you closer.
You sigh quietly, parting your legs, making way for the thickness. You know you look needy. You know you seem desperate. But it's too tempting. Too inviting.
"Yeah? You like that?" He whispers into your ear as he slots himself against your folds. The fat tip presses right up against where you're most sensitive.
"Mmhmm." You moan, "So nice." You drag your hips up, chasing the burning heat of him. Your own blood begins to simmer, wetness pooling between your thighs.
"Mmm, such a good girl. Took my cock once and already need it again?"
"Yes." You breathe, "Yes, Rin. I need it, please." It's so warm. So comforting. You truly mean it. You need his cock.
He plants a kiss on your temple before lining himself up, spreading your legs just enough to where he can fit himself.
"Don't worry, I'm gonna take real good care of you. Just keep being good for me, ok?" You nod into his chest and whimper when the thick tip stretches you open. Inch by inch he presses in, kissing your forehead every time you whimper. You dig your nails into his arms as he bottoms out, so thick, so full. It's only the second time he's been inside you, but it already feels so familiar. Your hips flex, finding the veins that press your walls so well. His cock head rests snug at the barrier of your cervix, almost like he belongs there. Like your pussy was made to fit him and only him.
"Fuck, you're clenching me so tight." He exhales, nipping on your shoulder.
The reality of the winter storm melts away. You may as well be sitting on the surface of the sun with how warm you feel. Rin's strong arms wrap around and pull you in tight. He allows himself a few slow strokes before burying himself deep inside you and resting there. It's bliss.
All echos from the frigid chill in your body have been cast out by Rin's perfect cock warming you from the inside.
"Rin, please don't move." You whimper, wrapping your arms over his shoulders and clinging. He laughs against your neck.
"So needy." He coos, rubbing your back. "I've gotta move a little baby, the friction is what's keeping us warm."
You whine, but one little thrust is enough to shut you up. He's right, it's better.
"Let me see your lips sweetheart. They were so blue before." You tilt your chin up just to be immediately sucked into a deep kiss. So hypnotic that you almost don't notice when he starts rolling his hips.
"Don't—nngh—stop." You mutter in between kisses, you own hips starting to move, starting to chase.
He slams up into you making you cry out.
"Don't be greedy baby. We're just focusing on getting you warm."
"But—"
"Shh. If you want my cock like that, you're gonna have to be really good, ok?" You clench down. The thought of being good for him is starting to make more and more sense to you. It's gotta be the cold making you delirious.
But the thing is—you're not actually feeling that cold anymore.
"Wanna be good." You whine, nipping at his bottom lip and pulling a groan from deep in his throat. His cock twitches against your tight walls.
"Yeah?" He brings his arm off your waist, dragging his fingers along your jawline. "My fingers are getting cold, warm em'." Two long fingers are hooked into your mouth without warning. You latch down, sucking and running your tongue over the length of them. He wasn't lying, they are cold. But you get the feeling that it had less to do with warmth and more to do with wanting to stuff you fuller of himself.
"Such a good mouth." He groans, rolling his hips again.
"Mmff." You groan around his fingers as they explore your mouth. His cock rubs you in just the right way making your pussy walls flutter. You need more.
"Rih—ple'fuh'me." Your mouth is stuffed so full that your words are practically incomprehensible.
"What was that?" He asks, stuffing your mouth with two more fingers until your attempts at response are only drool and muffled nonsense. "Poor thing. Can't understand a word you're saying."
You gag a little, drool dripping out the corner of your mouth. In the darkness you can still see Rin looking down at you. He's looking at how thoroughly he's rendered you speechless.
"Come on baby, use your words." You try to ask one more time, gagging as one of his fingers slides down your tongue. You tap his arm and only then does he remove his digits, letting you breathe. "Fuck. That was so hot." He sighs. His hips start to move again in slow, savoring strokes. Not enough to completely overwhelm you, but enough to make your mind go fuzzy. You cling to his shoulders, one leg thrown over his hips as he fucks you so nicely. Your skin, which only minutes ago felt frost-bitten, is now a furnace. So hot that snow would probably melt underneath your feet. It's ecstasy.
Holy shit. This is new. This is different. Your heart speeds.
Before it was a bet. A deal. You were just completing your end of a bargain. Then it was just to warm you up. A split second decision that you agreed to because you were so cold.
But now?
You don't have any context to fall back on. By all means, he could pull out now and you could both get dressed and continue to wait out the storm in a totally platonic manner. But you don't want that. You don't want platonic. Or rivalry. Or anything other than this. You can't deny it. You want to be fucked by Suna Rintarou again and again and again.
"Rin...more...please. I'll be so good, I promise." You feel him pause. You know how much he likes it when you give into him. That much was clear from the first time you two fucked. You were more than happy to use it to your advantage now.
"Well since you asked so nicely..."
He grips your hip as he begins to thrust into you with deep, hard drives that bruise your cervix. Your mind goes blank. A string of moans, and 'yes's', and more's all fall from your lips. He's fucking you so fast that a white ring forms around his base. His heavy balls slap your ass with every shove. Your breasts bounce against his chest. His breath is hot against your ear, each grunt pushing you further over the edge.
"Rin!"
"I'm here, just let go."
You come on his cock in a heave of screams and full body tremors. He sucks hard on your neck as you climax, wanting to leave his mark while you're too busy to notice.
As you come down, he slows his thrusts until he just rests inside you, still hard. He didn't finish.
"I'm sorry." You mutter, slightly embarrassed. Rin only chuckles.
"For what? Coming on my cock? You're right I'm so mad."
"You didn't finish." You sigh, still catching your breath.
"I wasn't trying to." You catch his gaze and raise an eyebrow.
"What? Why?"
"Don't worry about it."
"No. Rin, why?"
"I liked you better with my fingers in your mouth. So quiet." You kick him lightly in the shin. "Fine. If I finished in you, then I would have to pull out eventually. And if I'm gonna keep you warm, I kind of need to stay in here." You freeze at his explanation. And then you laugh. You laugh harder than you've laughed in weeks. The thought of Suna denying his own orgasm just to stay inside you. It was all just too comical.
It was also kind of sweet. In a really weird way.
"You're laughing like I couldn't just ruin you with my dick right now." To prove his point he thrusts back in. Your sore, aching pussy flinching from the pressure.
"Ah! Ok! Ok. I'm sorry." You gasp, clinging back onto him in apology. "Thank you, Rin."
"That's better." He breathes, tugging you against him.
Warm. Safe. Light. Your minds starts to drift off.
Welcoming arms pull you in closer. He cradles your body, drawing his arms around you and keeping you snug. He's like a blanket, totally enveloping you.
You're so relaxed.
So relaxed that you don’t even question when his arms grip you tighter. You don’t think twice when he snuggles his nose into your hair, breathing in your shampoo. You can’t bring yourself to care when one of his hands drags light, intimate scratches up and down your spine. You don't even move when his lips graze your forehead. You only feel yourself slipping into a blissful sleep.
Fighting the fatigue, you try to keep your eyes open, but the way his thumb traces small circles over your skin, lulls you back to a tranquil state. You stifle a yawn and he chuckles softly.
“Just go to sleep, I won't let go.” This protective version of him slices into you like a blade. You feel that every second you're seeing a side to him you never would have guessed.
As you drift off, your dreams start to take certain liberties with your memories of the night. Somewhere in the midst of REM, you dream of Rin bending you over your physics Professor’s desk while you take an exam.
—
Though you'd never admit it, it was some of the best sleep you've ever gotten.
Rin’s POV:
You feel so small curled up in his arms—like a cute, purring kitten. You look good too—hair cascading over his bicep onto the pillows, curves in all the right places, moonlit skin, the way your mouth hangs open when you sleep. He thinks that if he wasn’t so focused on keeping you warm, he'd for sure be focused on planning how he can see you in this way again, as soon as possible. You subconsciously nuzzle in tighter, resting your head onto the nape of his neck. Rin fights the urge to kiss your resting lips. He's already pushed his limits far enough.
'She doesn’t want me like that. God, she can barely stand to be around me at all. It’s a miracle she even agreed to stay—I thought for sure she’d take her chances in the snow'. Shaking away the thoughts, he tries to focus on what’s happening now, even if he knows it will probably never happen again. Especially because it will probably never happen again.
“You asleep?” He whispers, his typical bored tone slipping through. He doesn’t mean to, but it’s hard for him to be vulnerable around you.
“Mmm” You hum sleepily. Rin shuts his eyes and sighs. He imagines what it would be like to wake up to your voice. Soft, lazy ‘mmm’s' forever greeting him and granting him the will to start his days. The thought sends a deep ache through his chest and he finds himself gripping your arms. He needs you as close as possible. Anything to remind him that this is really happening. He drags his hand down your back, relishing in the softness of your skin. How your breaths are so quiet in your sleep. Without thinking, he rests his head onto yours, savoring the feeling of your silky hair caressing his cheek.
Holding you, he feels a completeness.
He now understands why he couldn’t say yes to any of the other girls that have approached him this year. He was waiting for this.
He was waiting for you.
All this time, he's been afraid. Afraid he messed it up the day you had come to him for the first time and so sweetly asked to be study partners. He had noticed you before then. The two of you had several classes together. You were so gorgeous and he was so nervous that you were talking to him. So instead of doing what any normal person would do and saying 'yes', he lashed out, basically called you stupid, and lost his chance. He never anticipated you'd take it as a challenge, but he's so thankful you did. Because it kept you coming back. It kept you in his orbit. So maybe the only way he could communicate with you was through petty remarks and insulting quips, but at least it was something.
Soon seeing you in class just wasn't enough. He had to be around you more. So he started joining clubs in hopes that you'd be there too. And it worked. Without fail, every club he joined, you'd join soon after. In his mind, it just meant that you and him were meant to be around each other. And he would do anything to fix his previous mistake.
An adorable yawn escapes you, making him laugh.
“Just go to sleep, I won't let go.” He whispers.
—
Hours pass as you sleep. Rin waits for exhaustion to take him too, but it never comes, so instead he just watches you doze. Everything about you is gentle. From the way your limbs clutch his body to the way you sigh lazily. Your leg twitches slightly and he has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing and waking you. He realizes you're dreaming and as if confirming his suspicion, you stir slightly, lips parting like you're about to speak.
“Rin.” You breathe. He thinks it sounds like sex falling from your lips. Heart pounding, he taps your shoulder and whispers,
“Y/n? Are you awake?” But you don't reply. You're still asleep. You're still asleep and dreaming about him.
And now he knows.
You stir again, he cranes his neck to listen, simultaneously hitting the record button on his phone.
“Rin…come back…I need…your pencil.” A smile spreads rapidly across his face and he tugs you closer, nuzzling his forehead against you.
He’d give anything to keep you like this— cozy, safe, stuffed, and breathing his name.
He sets his phone down, excited to listen back at another time. Maybe he'd tease you about it or maybe he'd keep it to himself. He had time to decide. A few more minutes pass and when you don't say anything else, he goes back to watching you. You roll slightly towards him, your curves fitting into his anatomy like a missing puzzle piece. It's all so perfect.
You lay together like that until the first peak of sunlight comes through the window. Rin hasn't slept a wink, but his body has never felt more relaxed.
Knowing that he only has another hour at the most before you wake, he soaks you in one last time. Your subtle perfume, your cute face, your calming presence. Even if this is the last time you let him hold you in his arms, he’ll always be grateful.
Synopsis (3.7K words): After a long and stressful week at trial, frustrated lawyer Hiromi Higuruma decides to blow off some steam using his cute and sweet paralegal.
Tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, higuruma x reader, slight age difference (reader is 23, Hiromi is 36), def power imbalance, blindfold, bondage, oral (f receiving), cowgirl, spanking, marking, praise.
It was late when you heard the front door of the office jingle open. The only light in the whole building came from the desk lamp and the pocket lighter you absentmindedly flicked on and off. You were supposed to have clocked out hours ago, but between scheduling depositions, drafting the week’s subpoenas, and preparing trial binder after trial binder, you just got caught up. Footsteps sound down the hallway. Your shoulders tense. The old clock on the wall showed 12:46 am, no one else should be here right now. In the desk drawer, you find a can of pepper spray and ready yourself to use it just as the source of the footsteps trudges through the door.
Tall, dark, and handsome. Your boss, Hiromi Higuruma—eyes drooped with exhaustion—drags his gaze up to meet yours.
“You’re still here?” He mutters, like he isn’t sure if this is real or if he’s sleep walking and this is a dream.
“Yeah. Just catching up on a few things. I thought you’d be home asleep by now.” You watch as he walks past you, pulling out his keys and unlocking a tall, gray filing cabinet. Inside, on the top shelf, is a bottle of amber brown whiskey and two crystal glasses. He pulls them out and walks them back to his desk. The desk you’re currently sitting at.
It wasn’t unusual. Hiromi had mentioned that you could use his space when he wasn’t there. But he’d never actually caught you using it. You felt slightly out of place.
“Couldn’t sleep. Trial this week’s been murdering me.” He sets down the whiskey glasses, one next to the other and then stops to stretch, running his long fingers across his face and through his brown hair. “Pour me one, would you?” You hop to your feet and fill one of the glasses, holding it up for him to take.
“That one’s for you.” He smirks, taking the bottle and pouring a drink into the other glass for himself. “Please, sit. Have a drink with me.” You waste no time following orders, walking around the desk and sitting in one of the chairs typically reserved for clients. It was nice, leather, cushiony. He sat across from you, eyes dragging over all the work you’d been stressing about. He sipped from his glass as he read the subpoena you were previously in the middle of.
“Nice work on these. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice is flat, like usual, but also soft, genuine. You feel your cheeks heat from the compliment.
“Thank you, sir.”
He starts flipping through his calendar, sighing at all the meetings and bullshit he’s got coming up. You can tell he’s tense, and not just from his upcoming appointments. A paralegal from another department had been chatting with you earlier. Apparently the judge for Hiromi’s trial was being pretty harsh today. You wish you knew what to say. How to help. But for now, you settle with just keeping him company.
Hiromi seems to zone out, his eyes glued to the corner of his desk. Fingers dragging lazily over his chin and lips, like he’s deep in thought.
In a nervous habit, you started flicking the pocket lighter again. The low flit, flit, flit, filling the silence.
“Good thing our office doesn’t have a gas leak You’d blow us both up.” He jokes dryly, eyes flicking to yours. You realize what you were doing and blush.
“Sorry. Habit.”
“Don’t be. Actually, you mind if I…?” He holds out his hand, asking for the lighter. You hand it over as he produces a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.
“Doesn’t this building have a no smoking policy?” You jest, tilting your head and smiling over at him. He flicks the lighter against the cigarette butt, once…twice…until it lights. Inhaling the smoke deeply.
“You gonna report me?” As he speaks, gray smoky haze billows from his lips. It wafts towards you. You always liked the smell of Hiromi’s cigarettes. They smelled thick and woody and rebellious. You liked that he had that edge to him. It reminded you that when he wasn’t busy being a big shot lawyer, he was just a chill, laid back dude in a suit. Yeah, he was your boss and he worked you to exhaustion every day, but it’s only because he’s a great lawyer and besides, you knew how lucky you were to have this job. In fact, the day the job posted, you practically arm wrestled another pre-law student for the sign up sheet. By some stroke of luck, Hiromi decided that out of all the candidates, you showed the most promise. Since then, you’ve been determined to be the best. For both your future as a lawyer, and for him. For Hiromi.
“Might have to sue you actually. Second hand smoke kills you know.” For the first time since he entered the office, the corners of his mouth tug into a little smile. He raises his eyebrows as if challenging you.
“Better get a good lawyer then.” His words are funny to you. There is no better lawyer than Hiromi.
He takes another deep drag of the cigarette, shutting his eyes and leaning back in his chair before blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. You can’t help but peak at the firm musculature of his neck as he does. So firm. So thick. So bitable. So not what you should be thinking about. You take a long drink from your whiskey glass, letting the liquor heat your blood and flush your skin. Letting it numb your nerves.
Hiromi is intimidating. That’s always been true, and no matter how many long days and longer nights you’ve spent working together, he never seems to become less intimidating. It’s not just that he’s a super well known and respected lawyer. No, you’d been around plenty of those and been fine. It may have had to do with the fact that you found him to be one of the most attractive men you’d ever laid eyes on. His bored brown eyes, separated by a strong Roman nose. Ruffled brown hair that’s always sort of falling over his forehead, giving him that overworked vibe that he sports so well. He’s tall. Always dwarfing the other lawyers and defendants. If you had to define him in a word: tempting. But you knew better. You needed this job if you were gonna get into a good law school. The work experience, the recommendation letters, the connections? This job was way too important to mess up all because of a stupid office crush. Even a crush as gorgeous as Hiromi Higuruma.
He finishes his glass and pours another, offering you the same which you accept. You’re not sure when, but it seems like he shed his suit jacket. Now just wearing his loosened tie over a white button down, tucked halfway into a belt and black suit pants. You watch discreetly when he rolls the sleeves of the shirt back slightly, showing off his toned forearms. Maybe the second glass of whiskey wasn’t such a good idea.
“You’re a good paralegal. You know that?” He sips his whiskey and then takes a final drag of his cigarette, putting it out on a small ceramic ash tray. “Sometimes I wish I could take you home with me, especially after a week like this.”
You know he doesn’t mean it like that. He means it in the way that you make things easier for him by organizing, and filing, and scheduling, and overall making sure his life isn’t always such a clusterfuck. But holy shit, you wish he did mean it in another way. You wish he’d mean it in the rip your clothes off and explore your body kind of way.
“Well, I’m always here if you…need anything.” You don’t know what you’re saying or why you’re saying it. But the alcohol is fuzzing your thoughts, and it’s really late, and the lighting in the office is so…moody and hitting him just right. Hiromi looks at you over his whiskey glass. Something flashes behind his eyes, you aren’t sure what.
He clears his throat, “Well, I know I ruined your Friday night, but I’m sure you’ve got someone waiting for you back at home so how about I call you a cab?”
“Oh it’s fine. There’s no one waiting for me.” You laugh, trying to cover up the awkwardness of your lonely home life.
“What? Someone like you? No boyfriend, girlfriend?” Your face heats and your heart starts to jump. He’s eyeing you more intensely now. The same way he does when he's evaluating a client’s testimony for the first time.
“Nope. Just me.” You down the rest of your whiskey in one gulp. You feel brave. “What about you? No Mrs. Higuruma?” Shit. You know you’ve crossed the line. But only because he was toeing it first.
“Nope. Just me.” He finishes his drink too, tapping his fingers on the desk. “Get’s frustrating sometimes. No one to ease the stress.” Neither of you blink. Neither of you look away. You just nod, barely registering his words past the roaring in your ears. Is he implying what you think he is? Your breaths become heavy, constricting. He couldn’t have meant that. Only one way to find out.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
There it is. His eyes darken, his shoulders broaden. He rolls back in his chair, making an opening. You understand.
Slowly, timidly, you walk over until you’re standing over him, perched between his long, parted legs. He pats his thigh with one hand. You straddle him, pencil skirt sliding up as you do. His thighs are hard beneath you, strong—supportive. Your hands wrap shyly around his shoulders for balance, bringing your chest up to his face. His arms hold you light but firm by your waist, keeping you planted.
“Is this alright, sir?” You whisper, gasping slightly when his hands move over your ass.
“Call me Hiromi, please.” You nod. “And don’t worry about me.”
You don’t get the chance to ask what he means before your face is taken up into his. Soft, experienced lips move over yours, pushing and pulling in a hypnotic rhythm. You sigh against him. It feels so good. Without considering, you increase the intensity, flitting your tongue past his lips and finding his. He doesn’t seem to mind, letting you suck and pull and feel. He’s a mix of whiskey and smokey bliss. You know from the moment you taste him, that you’re addicted. He bites down on your bottom lip, just enough to hurt before releasing and kissing it better. Your whimpers are all swallowed down in a flash of tongue and teeth.
Hiromi moves down to your neck, sucking on the exposed skin above your blouse, purple bruises blossoming after each latch. One strong hand raises, unbuttoning your shirt with minimal effort.
“You know how hot it was to walk in here and see you sitting at my desk so late at night?” He drags his teeth over your jugular, “I had to pull out the whiskey just so I wouldn’t bend you over right then.”
“Maybe you should’ve.” You whisper, lips caressing his ear.
A gust of wind flies up your skirt, you’re being lifted into the air, his hands holding you under your thighs. With one arm he swipes the contents of his desk to the ground. Papers, binders, whiskey glasses all fly to the ground in an unceremonious clatter. The other arm sets you down and flips you around. You stand leg’s parted on the ground and torso bent over his desk.
“May I?” He humbly asks, hands waiting for your signal on the hem of your skirt.
“Yes, please.” The cool air of the office hits the skin of your ass as Hiromi bunches your skirt at your waist. You peak back to make sure you didn’t wear any embarrassing panties and relax once you realize you wore your lacy pink pair to work today.
“So pretty.” He mutters, tone still flat, but so grateful. He rubs your ass once before lining up his hand,
Slap!
“Such a—“
Slap!
“Good—”
Slap!
“Girl!”
Red handprint marks bloom over the curves of your ass. The skin stings. Tiny pin prick tears poke at the corners of your eyes. You keep your thighs pressed together to keep him from seeing how wet you are. But it doesn’t matter. Two long fingers swipe along the crevice over your panties.
“Ohhh, look at that.” He coos, rubbing his damp fingers together, “Why are you so good to me?”
You feel him shuffle for a moment before something thin, black, and silky is placed over your eyes.
“Hiromi?!” You gasp as the fabric is tied behind your head, effectively blinding you.
“It’s just my tie. Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m gonna take good care of you.” Two gentle hands guide you up, turning you around and lifting you onto the desk, back first until you’re lying down. “Do you trust me?” He asks. It takes your heart a moment to calm from the sensation of losing your sight so suddenly. Hiromi rubs his thumb over your thigh, intimate and sweet. You’re ok.
“I trust you Hiromi.”
“Atta’ girl.” He praises and you feel your hands being pulled together, something stiff and leathery binding them immobile. “Just say the word if you need me to stop.”
Blind and unable to move your hands, you just wait until you feel him again at your legs.
“Go ahead and part them real good for me, ok? Thaaaaat’s it.”
A long finger hooks the side of your panties and tugs, bringing them down your thighs, calfs, and ankles until you’re completely bare beneath your skirt.
“Hope you don’t mind if I take these home with me.” He mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear. The thought of Hiromi having your used panties in the privacy of his own home sends chills down your spine. Your pussy clenches. He takes notice. “So desperate to start, hmm? You’re so cute.”
You feel as he pushes your legs apart on the desk. You feel as one hand spreads your folds open while the other hooks under your thigh. You think he might be on his knees? You feel as he—oh fuck.
Flat tongued, Hiromi licks a strip from your sopping entrance, up your clit. You jerk to grab onto his hair, but your hands are bound. You can only squirm as he flicks his tongue in orchestrated movements over your buzzing nerves. Small, pathetic whines pour out of you. You feel so helpless, but so taken care of as he increases the pressure.
“H—Hiromi—ah!” He’s making out with your pussy, kissing and groaning up against you like he’s starving. Like he’s dying and you’re the only one who can save him. Your hips buck up, chasing the high, but he pins you back down. He makes sure you can’t run off. You’re going to take it exactly how he wants you to. The only thing you can do is wrap your legs around his shoulders. He groans against you as you do. He seems encouraged. Hiromi moves past your entrance in wet, squelching drives as he tongue fucks you. His curved Roman nose pressing perfectly up against your clit. A coil forms deep in your tummy, burning hot and ready to explode.
“Hiromi I’m—oh shit—please don’t stop!” Your legs hold him locked, but he wouldn’t move even if he had the choice. He buries himself deeper in one final movement that sends your nerves firing in brutal succession. You gush out, legs shaking, back arching. Hiromi eats you through it, gradually slowing until you come down completely. Only then does he pull away, but not before placing one last ginger kiss atop your puffy clit. The sensation jolts you, so sensitive from your orgasm. You can hear him stand and feel as he helps you up into a seated position, gently undoing the blindfold and belt binds. As your eyes adjust back to the dim light, you can see for the first time what Hiromi Higuruma looks like when he’s truly coming undone.
Your shiny slick glistening his lips, hair ruffled just right from where your legs held him down, shirt half unbuttoned, chest heaving, eyes narrowed in, and a mountain tenting his pants.
You feel dizzy. You feel light. You feel like you need to know what his cock feels like when it’s buried inside you.
“Hiromi—“
“Take your shirt off.” You both spring into action, you yanking off your blouse until it slides to the floor and him unzipping his pants, working them down until you both stand half naked in front of one another. Breaths synching, eyes exploring, hearts racing. Your gaze falls to his unshaven cock which stands erect. He’s thick, heavy. You don’t know how it stands at all, completely defying gravity it seems. A small but thick vein runs underneath the head, begging to be sucked on. The tip which is already shiny with pre, is a gorgeous pink. You notice it matches the shade of his lips. Your eyes flick back to his.
He’s busy looking over your chest, hand now stroking on himself as he falls back into his chair. You step to be in front of him. Your boss. One of the best lawyers in the country. Sprawled out and stroking himself just for you. In his office. Just the two of you. Alone late at night.
He reaches out, hand squeezing your breast and tugging you closer. You resume your place over his lap, cock grazing your aching clit just barely.
“Nngh.” You moan, head tilting, back arching. He uses the opportunity to take your nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and sucking until you feel sore, then biting down and pulling, eyes lazily observing the way your breast bounces when he releases.
“So pretty.” He whispers, tapping his cock head against your clit, testing to see how ready you are for him. You grind into him, sliding yourself up and down his length, coating him in your slick and his pre. Meanwhile he just watches, a glint of something more than lust in his eye.
“Think you can take it sweetheart?” He whispers against your neck sending goosebumps down your arms.
“Yes.”
“You gotta ask for it then.”
You lift your hips and he lines himself up, “Will you please fuck me Hiromi?” You feel as his fat tip stretches you wide open.
“Anything for my sweet girl.”
You struggle at first. He’s thicker than any other man you’ve been with. He seems to understand, rubbing reassuring circles on your back and coaching you down.
“That’s it, just take it one inch at a time, there you go.”
Sweat beads your forehead and your thighs scream for reprieve, but the burning stretch of his cock bullying you open is too amazing to give up. You’re determined to take him completely. To know what it’s liked to be truly fucked by Hiromi Higuruma.
“Almost there sweetie, you’re doing so well.” You whimper into his shoulder, nails digging into his forearms. “Need some help?” You nod.
“Fffuck!” You cry out as he slams his hips up into you, fully burying himself. He doesn’t stop there, no time to get used to it or catch your breath. He just flexes his hips and slides you over him like you weigh nothing.
He doesn’t fuck like you thought he would. He’s typically so patient. But now? Now he’s desperate. Ravenous. The glint in his eyes has been replaced by something darker, something insatiable. Your upper body goes limp as he slams you up and down on his cock. He starts to speak, but you barely comprehend. Your thoughts are vaporizing by the second.
“Week’s been fuckn’ shit—judge’s on my ass—everyone needs somethin’ frm’me.” He’s using you like a toy, taking out his frustration, and venting. If you could think straight, you’d try and comfort him. Maybe your pussy is comfort enough. “You gon’ make me feel better?” He grunts, his cock hitting your cervix with a brutal pace. “You wan’ make me feel good?” You cry out, back arching. He takes your breast into his mouth again. Biting harder this time, pulling on your skin rougher. One of his hands gathers your hair and yanks, tilting your head back and exposing your neck to him. He admires the bruises he left there while he sucks on your nipple. His mark on your perfect skin, there for anyone to see. He hopes someone in the office asks about them so he can watch you squirm to come up with a lie. Oh fuck, the thought of you marked up and embarrassed all because of him. He feels the tug in his navel. He releases your breast with a soft pop.
“Whose girl are you y/n?” He grunts, pulling your chin down to meet his gaze. His hips are fucking up into you so hard that your eyes roll back. You can barely speak. “Come on sweetie, who does my smart girl belong to?” He lightly taps your cheek with petty slaps.
“Nngh—y-ours.”
“Aw come on—you can do it. What’s my name?”
“I’m nngh yours, H—iromi.” It’s the final straw. Stars burst behind your eyes as white hot release shoots into you, painting your walls, filling you up. His head falls back, he groans loud into your chest.
His perfect paralegal, shaking and trembling on his cock, stuffed full of his seed, too fucked out to hold yourself up.
You feel sleepy, relaxed for the first time this entire week. He seems to feel the same, holding you tight, keeping you plugged up despite having already returned to a clear state of mind. You know you should probably get up. Pull your clothes on and sprint out of there. You’ve crossed so many professional boundaries tonight. But he just smells so nice—like tasteful aftershave—and it’s so cozy being filled in this way... what’s another few minutes?
You two don’t untangle until ten minutes later. Your legs shaking as you stand. He helps you dress, pausing after every button on your blouse to swirl his tongue over yours and press you into him by your waist. Once you’ve finally gathered all your things and make it to the door, he pulls you in for one last lingering kiss. Thumbs caressing your cheeks like he’s engraving the moment in his memory.
“So…I’ll see you on Monday?” You ask, looking up one more time at the devastatingly handsome man that is your boss.
Synopsis (2.6K words): After an innocent culinary accident, your pervy roommate Iwaizumi agrees to make you a protein shake every day, his own special ingredient being the cherry on top.
Tags: MDNI, timeskip, iwaizumi x reader, iwa is pervy roommate, personal trainer iwa, reader is a little oblivious, improper use of protein shakes, cum eating, oral (m receiving), exhibitionism, dacryphilia, masturbation (m).
Iwa didn’t mean for it to go this far. He really didn’t.
—
Iwa stood in your shared kitchen, sweat glistened and exhausted from the workout you both just finished. He was in the middle of making you a post-workout protein shake, strawberries and cream flavored when you walked past. Your wet hair clinging to your neck and shoulders, your cute frame wrapped tightly in a short bath towel, your skin sporting a shiny glow, still wet from your steamy shower. You smelled like…wait. You smelled like? Like him?
“Did you use my soap?” He called after you, boner already forming beneath his sweats.
“Hmm? Oh yeah! Sorry Haji, I ran out of mine, hope you don’t mind.” You shrugged and kept walking, Iwa watched as you disappeared into your room, the door clicking behind you.
Did he mind? Fuck no!
The thought of you walking around smelling like him? He shuddered, goosebumps lining his thick biceps. He knows you get hit on. It’s obvious, someone as cute as you is bound to get attention. But he hated the idea. In fact it made him angry. Angry knowing that other guys might be looking at what’s his, that they might be having impure thoughts about his roommate. It made him want to lock you away in his room with promises of keeping you safe. But with you drenched in his scent? Everyone will know you’re taken. Taken whether you know it or not.
Did you do it on purpose?, he thought to himself. Did you enjoy having his essence permeating your skin at all times? Would you think about him every time you caught a hint of your scent? Would it make you smile, knowing that your kind and helpful roommate Iwa was always there for you even when distance kept you separated? He thought of you showering, the soapy suds of his soap getting to slide over your breasts, thighs, ass, legs…He thought of you getting dressed, the smell of your sweet panties mixing with the smell of his body wash…
Iwa didn’t even realize he was stroking himself to the thought. His sweats bunched below his waist, erect cock throbbing beneath his grip, beads of sweet pre pooling down to his base.
He should go buy some more. He could just tell you they were having a deal. The fragrance suits you anyways. You’d believe him. You always believe him. You’re so good to him in that way. Oh fuck, you’re sooooo good.
Oh shit.
Iwa’s eyes dart around, he’s about to finish, but he’s standing in the middle of the kitchen! He could grab a rag, but you had put them all in the laundry to be washed! He could go to the sink, but—no! He won’t make it. His eyes land on the only thing capable of catching his release—the protein shake.
His hips shudder as he lets go. Thick ropes of creamy white shoot into the cup, mixing unnoticeably with the pink strawberry contents. He lets out a barely audible moan, shutting his eyes, and pretending it was a pair of your pink panties he was finishing in instead.
Fuck, he cringes. Now he’s got to make you another one…or…does he? The thought of you drinking down his cum unknowingly, licking your lips and thanking him for the refreshing drink, he chokes back a laugh. That would definitely be something and the thought is filed away in his perverted mind. Something to think about later when he’s alone in bed.
He wasn’t really gonna give it to you. It was just another one of his many dirty thoughts that would die a fantasy. Nothing more.
After a quick trip to the bathroom to erase any remaining evidence on himself, he returns to dispose of the abomination, but—
“Haji what’s in this?” You ask, delicate fingers holding the cup and inspecting the contents closely. You’ve since changed into your lacy pink silk pajamas, hair combed neatly, still wet. He rushes to grab the drink from you, but once he gets closer, he sees that you’ve already tried it, the pink protein shake outlining your upper lip. Iwa feels dizzy. “It tastes so good!” Iwa might pass out.
“I was…making it for you.” He breaths, a wave of guilt bearing down on him. He watches you take another long drink, watches as your throat moves the syrup down your esophagus.
Your eyebrows furrow.
He freezes. Did you already figure it out?
“Something’s different…did you do something different Haji?”
His heart beat roars in his ears, palms sweating.
“It’s just my…secret ingredient.” Iwa’s become a pretty good liar while living with you, but even he feels unconvinced. Good thing you trust him soooooo much.
“Haji you’re so funny!” You giggle, “Fine don’t tell me, but I want one of these after every workout.”
Iwa thinks you’re the perfect girl for him.
—
Weeks go by and Iwa’s protein shakes become a daily ritual. He drives you both to the gym. He helps you workout. You go home. And while you shower, Iwa prepares the miracle shakes. It becomes your favorite part of the day. Drinking it down while Iwa watches and listens to you babble about whatever you want. It’s Iwa’s favorite part of the day too. The way you suck it down every time without fail, never sparing a single drop. You always thank him profusely, telling him how grateful you are to have him around. It always gets him so hard. At first he’d tried to hide his boners behind a pillow while you jabbered on about your day, but now he just lets his bulge sit out in the open. You never notice. You’re just so dumb and so sweet.
One day, as you’re enjoying your protein shake, you start to gush on and on about how much stronger you feel.
“Did you see how much I lifted to today Haji!? These shakes are really working!”
“They sure are y/n! You’ve gotten so strong.” He smiles at you, trying not to finish from the excitement in your voice. He just came only twenty minutes ago while preparing it, but already he feels like he could make you another.
It was a perfect system.
Until one day you got too curious and decided to ask if you could watch him make one of his special shakes.
“Huh? Oh—definitely not. A chef never reveals his secrets!” His heart pounds. What would you say if you knew? You’d probably throw him out onto the streets. Maybe you’d slap him and call him a perv, though he wouldn’t mind that so much.
“Pleeeeeease Haji?”
“I don’t know sweetie, it’s really supposed to be a secret.”
“I swear I’ll be good Haji. I won’t tell anyone, promise!” You stick out your pinky finger and hesitantly he takes it.
Iwa knows you’ll be good. He’s praying for it actually.
—
The next day, it’s time for your shake. Iwa waits for you as you shower. He paces the kitchen nervously. Maybe he could just substitute the “secret ingredient” for something else. You wouldn’t know the difference. But deep down, he wants you to see it. He wants you to know what you’ve been drinking. He wants to see your reaction. He wants to openly display just how far he was willing to go to make you happy.
You pad out from your bedroom, an excited grin etched into your cute features.
“Show me what you got chef.” You giggle.
“You might see better on your knees.” He suggests. And you don’t question it. Of course you don’t. “Let’s start.”
You watch, wide eyed and curious as he fists himself. You’d seen Iwa’s cock before. He’d been so kind as to offer it when you needed all those massages, or—internal massages—as he had called them. But you hadn’t ever seen him use it like this before. His handsome face scrunched together, eyebrows knitted, and chewing on his bottom lip. His gaze kept locked on you, probably to make sure you were watching the delicate process since you had practically begged.
You watch in amazement as he pants. He’s already so exhausted from his workout, but still puts in so much effort to make you your protein shakes. Iwa is such a good roommate!
Eventually he shudders, the white syrupy stuff going into the shake mixture.
You scoot forward on your knees,
“What's it for, Haji?”
He fumbles over his words, still catching his breath from finishing right in front of you.
“Well—h-hhah—sweetheart, this…ingredient…is where all those rich amino acids and calories come from.”
“So this is what’s been making me feel so good?” You tilt your head and drag your finger across his flushed tip, gathering the remaining amount off of him. Iwa flinches, his hand gripping onto your shoulder to steady himself.
“Y—yes,” He pants, “If it’s too much, then I—“
You bring your finger to your lips and suck. Iwa could cry from happiness.
“Mmmm.” You hum, eyes closed and sucking on the remnants, “Thank you Haji.” He sucks in a tight breath.
“Shit. Anything for you.”
—
You liked to watch him make the shakes. He liked having an audience. It was easier for him to finish when he could hear your sweet voice anyways. When he could look over at your cute face or your freshly showered body.
He started experimenting with the flavors, each one better than the last. He loved watching you try them, the way your eyes would light up as you excitedly take several more sips.
You would go on and on about how much better you feel after your workouts, and how much more awake you feel in class. He would just watch your lips as you spoke and imagine his seed swirling around in your tummy.
Once again, the perfect system.
—
It had been a particularly long week. You were swamped with midterms and since Iwa had been working at an away tournament for the local pro volleyball team, you had been making your protein shakes by yourself. It was terrible. Without his secret ingredient, the shakes just weren’t doing the job. You felt tired and irritable. You missed your roommate.
When he finally returned, you both went for your daily workout. Once home, you both were exhausted and ready for some relaxation. But when Iwa opened the cabinets and saw the absence of any ingredients, he frowned, realizing neither of you had been shopping for a while. Guess he’d have to settle for jacking off into your panties later tonight after you’d gone to bed. You came out from your shower, ready to unwind but paused when Iwa was already sitting on the couch.
“Haji?”
“Oh hey, looks like we’re out of food. I’ll go to the store tomorrow, but no shake tonight.”
Your lip trembled.
It’s not a big deal, it really isn’t. But you had just had the week from hell and all you wanted was to curl up on the couch with one of Iwa’s shakes and blabber about your worries until you fell asleep. In fact, the only thing that got you through today, was that. And now you couldn’t have it.
“Hajiiiiii.” You sniffed. Iwa looked over, he saw the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. The way your chin shook.
Fuck, you looked so hot, so helpless. And you know how much Iwa loves when you’re helpless.
He hopped to his feet and wrapped you into a hug. You didn’t think much of the hard bulge digging into your hips, you just huffed into his shoulder.
“What’s wrong princess?”
You sniffle. One tear breaking loose and falling onto Iwa’s shirt.
“I was just so excited for my shake. Sorry it’s stupid.”
“Noooo, don’t say that. Was this week just too hard for you without me here, hmm?” He consoles, rubbing circles on your back, pulling you in closer. Letting himself feel how your hips nudge his cock through his pants. “I’m sorry sweetie but I promise I’ll make you one tomorrow.” Iwa smiles to himself. You’re so needy, so cute, so addicted to his taste. What did he do to deserve you?
“I just wanted it so bad.” You whine, salt streams starting to soak through to his chest. Iwa’s cock aches. He’s so hard, his cock might tear the seams of his boxers.
It’s just Iwa’s nature to want to help you. Sure he has his own motivations for doing so, but helping you is basically an instinct at this point.
“I suppose that I could just…” His words trail off. You may be a little dumb, but surely you’d catch on if he offered that. You furrow your brows, confused.
“Haji?” Fuck he loves when you say his name.
“I could just…give it straight to you.” He murmurs, his cheeks painted a dark pink. You look up at him, trying to put together what he means and—oh. You gasp, pulling away. Iwa panics, his heart throbs until he’s sure it will explode. His perfect life, his perfect home, his perfect roommate, all hanging in the balance. He feels like kicking himself for messing it up.
“Y/n, please—“
“You would do that for me?” You coo. Iwa nearly chokes.
“Uh—yes?”
“Oh Haji!” You squeal, practically jumping into his arms, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” You yell.
Iwa is in love with you.
—
“Alright, open up for me sweetie—thaaaaat’s it.” You open wide, sticking your tongue out as he taps his pink tip over your bottom lip. He tastes slightly salty and you stifle a giggle. You think it’s funny how someone so sweet could taste so salty. You enjoy it though, it’s different, it’s nice.
“Might help if you put your tongue there.” He suggests and groans when you run it over his slit, licking and flicking until you try sucking on the entire tip. His hands find the back of your head, letting you know that you’re doing it right. You’re helping. You hollow your cheeks, sucking in and then releasing with a soft, wet pop. He pats your cheek.
“You ready?” He asks, already out of breath. You nod and part your lips, welcoming his entire length at once.
Strong fingers grip your hair in handfuls, bobbing your head up and down, base to tip. He started slow, making sure his precious roommate could handle it, but with the way your throat hugged him so warmly, he knew his restraint would run out. Little by little, he increases the speed of his thrusts until he's practically fucking your mouth. You whine and groan around him, the vibrations only encouraging him. He looks down, moaning at the way your lips encompass him. Your pretty eyes watering and rolling. He wished he could take a picture. You dig your nails into his thighs and only then does he remember to let you breathe.
“You alright baby?” He gasps.
“Mmhmm.” You hum, almost as if you were drunk on his taste already.
“That’s my girl.” He praises, pulling you back in and bottoming out without warning. Your throat burns, your jaw aches, your lips feel bruised. This was basically another workout in and of itself. But you persist. Iwa was being so good to you. The least you could do was offer your hungry mouth for assistance.
“Almost there—shit—you’re doing so—fuck—good baby.” You shut your eyes, tears dripping down your cheeks from the fullness of his cock choking you. You’re not scared or worried. Iwa’s got you. He slams you down, your nose pressed into his pelvis, balls hanging just next to your chin. Out of selfish curiosity, you take them into your hand, massaging gently with your gorgeous, manicured fingers. They’re big and so full. Iwa might explode.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, yes just like that—holy shit.” His hips stutter and he yanks you off, his own hand stroking himself furiously. “Open.” He demands. You stick out your tongue as he brings his hips in, thick white ropes shooting into your mouth. You sigh, taking it all in. The stress and worries of the past week melting away as you swallow down Iwa’s cum. You try and savor his taste, try to make it last before swallowing it gratefully. Iwa drags the tip along your lip, making sure you get every single drop. He almost can’t believe the scene before him. Your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks, tongue flicking his length. The satisfied hums and moans reverberating from deep in your throat. He lets you finish him off, running his fingers through your hair as you do.
Finally you come off him, wiping your chin and staring up timidly.
“Sorry Haji, it was just so good.” You mutter and he helps you up.
“Anything for you, sweetie.” He whispers, “What do you say?”
“Thank you Haji.”
Iwa decides he won’t be buying anymore stuff for protein shakes. This should be good enough for now. You would agree.
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