One wide, sturdy hand pins you down by the wrists, stretching your arms as far above your head as they’ll go. Kuroo uses his long build to hold you perfectly still, knees parting your legs so wide that your calf hangs off one side of the desk and the other scrapes against his computer monitor, watching you writhe with a wild grin.
“You’re so pretty,” his free hand traces down your torso, thumb and pointer finger slowly popping the buttons of your shirt. Your pants are long forgotten, sitting in a pile right next to the door, leaving only your panties left to keep you warm. The aircon immediately hits your bare skin, a shiver raking through your body. The way you shake has you accidentally bucking up into him, the cold, cold metal buckle of his belt digging into the newly exposed soft of your stomach. Against your core, you can feel how hard he already is, practically pulsing through the cloth. “-And fucking desperate for it, apparently.”
“It’s freezing in here, Tetsu-”
“Excuse me, we’re in the office.” he dips down, nose pressed against your cheek, lips tracing over your jaw as he talks. The nip of his teeth further chastise you, “Address me properly.”
You whine, trying to turn your head and catch him in a kiss, but he pulls away- just fair enough to watch you strain for him. Every pull and wiggle just makes him smile wider, those dark eyes sparkling with hunger.
“Sir-” you finally relent, “Sir, please, just fuck me already.”
Kuroo sits up, jerking his head to the side to point towards the door as he busies his free hand undoing his belt. His briefs are bright red, a stark contrast from his conservative suit. “Shh. There’s people right outside.”
Of course there is. You can hear the low murmur of voices echoing down the hall, carrying out the day’s activities, completely oblivious to what was happening less than five feet away.
“You don’t want the whole office to know my secretary is a little slut, do you?” his voice drops so low you can barely understand him.
You arch your back, pouting your lips just the way he likes it, searching for a real kiss this time. “Only a slut for you, sir.”
His mouth finds yours and you’re finally hot, want blossoming under your skin. The wet pulls of his tongue searching for more and more, deep and all consuming until you can practically feel your brain misfiring-- the only thought you can manage to scrap together is him, him, him. He moans and mumbles into the kiss, all concerns of noise suddenly gone as he loses himself in grinding himself against you. The pretty pink head of his cock slips free on the elastic of his briefs and each kiss, each rut against you, has him glazing your skin with precum.
Suddenly, he lets go, freeing your hands. Kuroo suddenly leans back to fumble around the side of his desk, pushing around the drawer on the side of his desk. He comes back after a moment, tossing a foil packet on to your chest.
“Put it on me,” Kuroo whispers, running a hand through his tousled hair, “I want to feel your hands.”
Carefully, you rip the package open, gripping the corner with your teeth and tugging. Using your newly freed arms, you peel back the edge of his underwear and watch his cock fall free, heavy with it’s own excitement. A dribble of precum gathers at his slit and you brush it away with your thumb; the way it rips a gasp from him almost surprises you.
“Holy fuck-”
You pinch the tip and roll the condom down his cock, taking your time to alternate between firm touches and soft, trailing touches. When you reach the base, you continue, fingers ghosting over his cropped pubic hair before dropping low to cup his fat balls and roll them ever so slowly in your palm. With your other hand, you grip him. Through the thin latex, you can still feel everything, even the soft ridge that runs the length of his cock-
And apparently he can feel everything too.
“Holy fuck-” he repeats, louder, voice already starting to break-
“Shh.” you mimic, “There’s people outside-”
You squeeze him harder. “You don’t want the whole office to know my boss is a little slut, do you?”
“Stay?” you ask him, despite knowing that he won’t. He never does.
The rueful upturn of his lips is all the response you need. Kuroo leans into you, clever fingers sneaking under your shirt and curling around your hips gently, slotting into place where they belong. With precision that only comes with familiarity, he finds a sensitive spot to the left of your spine and strokes it, making you shiver.
“As much as I’d like that,” he begins, nose bumping against yours playfully as he draws you to him, “tomorrow’s Friday.”
It takes you a moment to remember why that matters, distracted as you are by his warm hands and the little patterns he’s tracing on your back. “Another delivery in Sendai?”
- Asphyxia
Tagging: @titan-fodder, @whats-her-quirk, @lady-lauren, @mindninjax, @prettyiwa, @therealvalkyrie, and anyone else!
Kuroo sucks in a harsh breath from between his teeth as you drag a teasing finger down his stomach. A wicked little grin tugs at your lips as his muscles flex beneath your touch, his abdominals clenching with slowly unwinding restraint. Long fingers bite into the flesh of your thighs, squeezing and releasing each time your fingernail grazes him, scratching.
“Are you going to be good for me?” you ask, mischief only growing as you grind down against him.
Chuckling, Kuroo’s hands slide up your thighs to grab your ass, cheeky squeeze matching the grin on his face. “I thought you didn’t like it when I was good?”
POV for whatever current project tickles your fancy 👀
So, this was tricky, because my current wip is half-baked and I might end up scrapping everything I have for it, but it's the only fic I have on hand right now because I'm working with what I shoved on google drive before shutting my laptop down until I can get it in for repairs.
This is a POV swap from the six sentence Sunday I did the other day.
POV:
"Stay?" you ask him as you weave your fingers into his hair.
A shiver crawls down his spine as your gentle touch brushes against the back of his neck almost teasingly. There's a soft, almost pleading look in your eyes. A large part of him aches to give in and spend the night with you, but the thought causes his kakuhou to pulse in excitement, and he has to stop himself from ripping his hands from your hips.
Instead, he indulges in you, just enough to quell the heat spreading from the base of his spine. He allows his hands to slip beneath the hem of your shirt and pull you closer, grins when you shiver as he strokes his fingertips down the side of your spine, a mirror to where his kagune is.
You sigh, but there's no deep-rooted resignation or bitter disappointment in your expression, just easy acceptance that makes his chest ache. He knows you doubt him sometimes. He can't blame you for it.
I want him to fuck me against a glass window at some boring gala in a swanky high rise he only went to to schmoose with potential sponsors for the volleyball league. It's painfully boring and we sneak off to have some fun.
send me a character and i'll tell you where (place) i would let them fuck me
Last (the most recent two sentences of my current project):
It snarls at you, a low, animalistic sound, and bares its teeth around a mouthful of gore. Blood drips down from its lips and chin, from its hands, chunks of flesh gripped between thin, spindly fingers with blackened nails.
Before the Beginning (3+ sentences taking place before the plot):
Nekomata Yasufumi crouched in front of the trembling boy, blocking his view of the blood splattered walls and the row of bodies on the floor, red soaking into the white sheets. "And what's your name?"
The boy ripped his eyes away from a drying stain on the floor where a quinque had torn through his older sister's skull less than an hour earlier. Nekomata didn't flinch as he was met with the blood red eyes and black sclera of a frightened ghoul--a frightened child.
"Tetsurou," the child told him as his grip tightened around the stuffed cat clutched to his chest. Behind him, a duel-tailed bikaku swayed threateningly.
Nekomata nodded. "Tetsurou-kun," he repeated. "Tell me, Tetsurou-kun, do you like coffee?"
