desc;; MDNI, post-time skip, bestfriends 2 lovers, multiple orgasms, finger fucking, soft dom suna, afab!reader, not prof read, rin had a crush on you ever since… so he decides to shoot his shot! , p in v , vaginal sex, squirting, bsf!sunarin → bf!sunarin
AN;; trying something new :) expect mistakes or spelling errors wc: 884
.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭
• bestfriend!suna has heard you complain about it for months. every time the topic of sex comes up during your late-night calls or when you’re chilling at his place after his ejp raijin practices, you sigh and say the same thing everytime. “no one’s ever been able to make me squirt. they all tap out or get tired before it even gets close.”
he’s usually half-laying on the couch scrolling through his phone with that signature lazy smirk, but this time he actually looks up, eyes narrowing with interest.
“bet i could,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather.
you laugh in his face. “yeah right, rin. you’re my best friend, not some sex god.”
• bestfriend!suna just raises an eyebrow, setting his phone down. “i’m serious. give me one night. if i can’t make you squirt, i’ll get ya anything you want. but if i do…” his smirk turns sharper, “you admit i’m better than every guy you’ve ever let touch you.”
you thought he was joking.
he wasn’t.
.𖥔
two nights later you’re in his apartment after one of his games, still buzzing from watching him dominate on court. weell… one teasing conversation turns into a full blwown makeout session on his couch, and before you know it he has you pinned to his bed, long fingers already buried deep inside you.
• bestfriend!suna is annoyingly good. he takes his time, curling those stupidly long fingers against that spongy spot inside you while his thumb circles your clit with lazy precision. his hazel eyes stay locked on your face the entire time.
“told you,” he murmurs, voice low and smug as he speeds up. “you’re already soaking my hand,”
you’re stubborn, still trying to deny it even as your thighs start shaking. but rintaro just leans down, lips brushing your ear.
“let go. i know you can squirt for me, pretty girl.”
• bestfriend!suna doesn’t stop when you cum the first time. he keeps fucking you with his fingers through it, palm pressing firm against your clit, curling harder, faster, wet obscene sounds filling the room as he forces you higher.
“c’mon pretty girl… give it to me.”
your second orgasm hits harder. your back arches clean off the bed and you squirt all over his hand and wrist, soaking his forearm and the sheets beneath you. the sound you make is broken and shocked. suna’s eyes darken with satisfaction.
“there we go,” he breathes, looking way too proud of himself. “fucking knew you could.”
his fingers out slowly, savoring the way your walls flutter around them. he doesn’t rush. instead, he leans down and kisses you deep as he lines himself up, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked entrance.
• bestfriend!suna fucks you through three more orgasms that night, making you squirt two more times — once while you’re riding him, and once when he has your legs pushed back to your chest, pounding deep and relentless.
every time you soak his cock and stomach, suna lets out this low, warm chuckle, almost like he can’t believe how good you feel. his thumb keeps gently circling your swollen clit, eyes half-lidded as he watches you fall apart with pure adoration.
“look at you…” he murmurs between slow, deep thrusts, sweat slipping down his messy brown hair. “so beautiful like this. i’ve got you, baby. just let go for me.”
when he finally cums, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning softly against your neck as he fills you up, hips twitching with every pulse. his voice is rough but gentle when he whispers,
“all mine… only me from now on, kay?”
you’re a trembling, soaked mess underneath him, sheets completely ruined, thighs sticky with both of you. all you can do is weakly smack his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.
“told you i could,” he whispers,
.𖥔
• bestfriend!suna made good on his bet. after that night he didn’t even give you a chance to pretend it was a one-time thing. the next morning you woke up to him already scrolling through his phone next to you, arm slung over your waist like it belonged there.
“morning, squirt,” he said with that lazy smirk, not even looking up. you threw a pillow at his head.
• annoying boyfriend!suna is literally the worst (and best) thing that’s ever happened to you. he went from your stupid best friend who sent you dumb texts at 3am to the guy who now texts you “thinking about how pretty you look when you’re crying on my dick” while you’re in a work meeting.
• annoying boyfriend!suna is obsessed with making you squirt now that he knows he can. he turns it into a game. movie night? his hand is in your panties the whole time. lazy sudnay morning? he eats you out until the sheets are ruined and you’re pushing his head away because you can’t take anymore.
“rin— rinnie i can’t—”
“you can. don’t be dramatic. give me one more.”
• annoying boyfriend!suna is ridiculously clingy in the most infuriating way. he’ll lay on top of you after sex, still buried inside you, refusing to pull out while he scrolls through his phone and occasionally thrusts lazily just to hear you whine.
ragebaiting older! boss! tsukishima until he fires fucks you
tags + tws ;; wc 4.8k , nsfw 18+, fem! reader, mentions of strokes, age gap (early twenties reader & late thirties tsukki), inappropriate workplace relationships, power dynamics, rough / angry sex, degradation, praise, vaginal, oral (fem receiving), spanking and fingering.
you're not sure when ragebaiting and purposefully agitating your boss at work became your new favourite pastime, but now you are afraid it might be the only thing getting you through your banal days as an assistant at the sendai city museum.
you were naive enough to think that working at a museum would be awesome; you'd get to see all the new exhibits early, set up them up and spend lots of time researching their history and finding new ones. but apparently that is not your job. instead, you get to do all the work that no one else wants to do — organising files, managing bookings and everyone's favourite, doing the morning coffee run. yipee.
but what does add a little bit of spice to your otherwise painfully boring day, is annoying your boss — tsukishima kei, the museum's head curator. he's an older guy, late thirties or early forties if you had to guess, and he's quite stern-looking. he wears a ironed white shirt and black trousers to work everyday, with black rectangle glasses.
he's such a character. constantly stressed out and so strict that you'd think he might drop dead from cardiac arrest if something were to ever go wrong. you'd be inclined to tell him that work really isn't serious, but from the chunky, expensive-looking watches and designer cologne he wears to work everyday, you reckon if you were getting paid as much as him, you'd act the same way.
he is extremely serious, though. he'll seldom have a laugh in the breakroom and he always looks at you like he's judging you for something. whenever you talk to him, he either responds curtly or he snaps at you for doing something wrong. everyone else at the museum thinks he's a dick, but you find him oddly endearing. especially as he's come to be the source of your amusement.
STRIKE ONE. you rush into his office with a drink carrier in both hands. setting them both down on the corner of his massive desk, you pick up one drink at a time and scan the exterior, as they are all labelled with the name of the colleague who ordered it. eventually, you find tsukishima's and slide it towards him with a bright smile.
"here you are, one large black coffee with two sugars." you hum, picking up the two drink carriers, about to leave his office. he only looks away from his monitor momentarily to flash you a tiny smile and quietly mutter, "thanks." he picks up the cup and brings it to his lips for a long sip.
"see you around." you sing, about to exit his office and deliver the other coffees, until you hear him call out behind you,
"erm, why is 'princess' written on my cup?"
you turn around to look at him, still wearing a smile even as he glares at you with a expression filled with a mix of disgust and suspicion. "oh, that's just the silly name i gave to the barista. they write it on the cup so i know whose drink belongs to who."
"right." he clicks his tongue, narrowed eyes glancing between you and his cup, "and is there a reason why you didn't use my actual name? or.. any other noun?"
you're left speechless for a moment. in all honesty, you weren't expecting him to call you out on it; you thought you'd be able to leave his office before he noticed, then point it out in the breakroom. defensively, you splutter, "it's just a bit of harmless fun and silliness, sir. no need to get so worked up about it. but if you are really upset by it, i'll give them your actual name next time i go, mkay?"
he opens his mouth. likely to rebuttal against your claim that he is getting 'worked up' or is 'upset', but before the words can even leave his mouth you swiftly close the door to his office with a perky, "see you later!"
and tsukishima is left irritated, drinking out of his princess cup.
STRIKE TWO. in typical assistant fashion, you eventually are left to deal with arranging meeting between tsukishima and whoever else — whether that's curators from other museums or private buyers/sellers. recently, there's been one seller from overseas that he really wanted to meet with; he'd been trying for ages but apparently this guy must be really busy or something because it took tsukishima four months to even get a reply from the man himself, wherein the man said he'd be happy to meet, if he has time. then, tsukishima left you to iron out the specific details and nail down a time/date.
the door to his office swings open and you proudly beam at him while standing in the doorway. he's in the middle of reading a file on his desk, so he only briefly looks up at you over the rim of his glasses which have slid down his nose, "can i help you?"
"nope, but i can help you." you proclaim, meanwhile he doesn't even look up from his papers as he raises and eyebrow, urging you to continue. you do so, saying, "guess who managed to secure a date and venue for your meeting with... the important guy, whose name i forgot."
tsukishima visibly perks up from his chair, drops his pen in shock and locks eyes with you, and you swear for a millisecond, an emotion that could be perceived as joy lights up his face. "mr kim?!"
"yes, him!"
"excellent work." he gives you an approving nod, picking up his pen and resuming his work, "when is the meeting?"
"uh, well, he said he'd only meet with you if for when you okay, he would let you to."
tsukishima continues to nod, scanning the text in front of him, "right, forward me the ema—" he pauses, mind stuttering as he attempts to process what you said, "uh, sorry, could you repeat that for me?"
"he said he'd only meet with you if for when you okay, he would let you to."
you say it with such a rehearsed confidence that tsukishima sooner believes that he may be having a stroke than the idea that you might just be pranking him. "sorry," he clears his throat and straightens in his chair, "one more time, please."
"he said," you stress this time, "he'd only meet with you for when you okay, he would let you to."
now finally starting to catch on, his expression of befuddlement slowly begins to transform into one of annoyance, "that doesn't make any sense."
"yes, it does." you scoff, putting on a matching face of aggravation, "maybe you're just having a senior moment. here, i'll repeat it for you once more: he said he'd only meet with you for when you okay, he would let y—"
"that doesn't make any fucking sense! what're you even trying to say?" you snaps at you, and you open your mouth to say something that would piss him off even more, but at this point you are struggling to hide how amused you are by his reaction and a sly smile begins to tug at the corners of your lips, one that you try so hard to suppress but he notices anyway, and when he does he sighs, "get out of my office."
you nod, putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your snickering as you leave the office, closing the door behind you.
there's a moment of silence where tsukishima can hear the blood vessels in his forehead bulging, but you break it by popping your head into the room and stating, "i did actually get a meeting with the guy though. it's next friday at two o'clock at the plaza lunch spot. i'll forward you the details." and you just as hastily dip out.
at least one good thing came of that interaction, he tells himself.
STRIKE THREE. there's a knock at his door, but he's on his lunch break. everyone knows that he takes his lunch between 1.30 and 2.30 — the same time it has been for the last 18 years — and expressly asks no one to disturb him during this period, so who would be inconsiderate enough to knock on his door while he's eating his su— oh, of course.
the moment he realises who it is on the other side of the door, it creeps open and your head pokes in and proves his assumption to be correct.
he covers his mouth as he's still chewing on his sandwich, "i didn't say you could come in."
"but it's an emergency, sir!"
"what is it?" he quirks a brow. usually if someone interrupted his lunch with an 'emergency', he'd show a bit more concern but given that it's you and you once referred to a cologne he was wearing that you weren't particularly fond of as a 'nasal assault and biohazard', he has reason to believe that you're being hyperbolic.
another assumption proven correct as you explain, "someone brought in tuna and egg salad for lunch and now the breakroom reeks." your eyes squeeze shut, cringing as you recall the awful odour, "could i please eat lunch in here, with you?"
"that's a stu—" for second he forgets that he's your boss and he's only meant to use professional language, but he hastily catches himself, "that's a ridiculous complaint. just open a window." he takes another bite of his sandwich.
"but sir, it's such a foul smell, you don't understand." you continue to whine, leaning against the door, "and wouldn't you like to have someone to talk to during your lunch break?"
"my office isn't for fraternising." he states bluntly, "anyway, if i let you eat in here, soon enough everyone will be eating their lunch in here."
"i highly doubt anyone else would volunteer to eat in your company." you chirp in such a sweet tone of voice that it takes tsukishima a few moments to compute how offensive that is, "even if they do, you can just tell them to politely get lost because i am the only employee who is tolerable enough to eat with you."
"i'm not sure how true that is." he contemplates, leaning back in his chair and catching a glimpse of the clock. more of his fleeting lunch hour was slipping away from him as he entertained his conversation. a part of him wanted to angrily assert himself and tell you that you weren't going to eat with him. but an even larger part of him was oddly endeared by you, even though he couldn't even begin to explain why.
regardless, he ought to end this conversation somehow. he gives you a once-over and lazily slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, sighing, "you're lucky you caught me in a good mood. sit." he motions to the chair across from him.
you smile, humming a "thank you." as you shuffle into the room and take a seat at the opposite side of his desk as instructed. once sat, you start to unwrap your lunch, "what's got you in such a good mood, anyway?"
"my lunch is quite good today." he explains, covering his mouth as he chews.
"cool, did your wife make it for you?" you ask, taking a bite of your own food.
"no, i'm unmarried. i made it myself." his tone softens slightly.
"right." you buzz, eyes scanning around his room. it dawns on you that you've never had a proper look around his office before. he has all sorts of books and chachkies on his bookshelves, as well as various diplomas, pictures and certificates in frames. most of them seemed to be academic or museum-related accolades, but one in particular stood out to you. hence, you ask, "who are the sendai frogs?" eyes narrowed, trying to read all the text on the certificate.
he follows your gaze until it falls upon the sole volleyball-related item he has displayed in his office. "that's the volleyball team i used to play for." he turns round in his chair to face you again.
"oh, volleyball. is that the sport you were into back when you were athletic?"
he chuckles at your poorly veiled jibe and attempt to get a rise out of him. instead, he plays along for a change, "yes. back when i was athletic, i played a lot of volleyball." his eyes fall on the desk, giving the appearance of absence as he reminisces on the fond memories, "that certificate is from when we won the v. league tournament."
"interesting." you nod along. as you do so, he opens a drawer on his desk and rummages around. this goes on until he finds a picture and slides it along to you. leaning forward to look at it, you see it's a slightly crumbled photo of an entire team of volleyball players lined up, all wearing a bright green and yellow uniform, likely the sendai frogs. and you become certain of this when you find a much younger version of your boss in this line-up, in the back row. "aww, is that you?"
"with my team, yes."
so he's always been deadpan-looking. good to know. "how long ago was this?"
he grimaces, "15 years ago, i think."
"you must've been around my age in this photo." you giggle, even harder when you watch his face fall into an unimpressed glare. he tries the slide the photo back over to himself, but you keep a hand on it, "how do i know this isn't ai?"
"ai?" he almost gasps.
"yeah, like, artificial intelligence." you knit your brows together, "it's when a neutral network is trained on data and learns how to—"
"i know what ai is; i'm not an idiot!" he snaps, snatching his photo back, "it's not that. it's a real picture." he insists.
"mm, i'm not so sure. i swear i saw one of the guys had seven fingers on one hand!" you smirk, trying to grab the photo back but he yanks his drawer open and shoves it back in there. "plus, i find it hard to believe you looked like that 15 years ago and you're still unmarried."
it's around now that he starts to realise that you're deliberately trying to get a rise out of him again; he's not sure how he keeps falling for it. regardless, he's left speechless by your two observations — momentarily, at least. there's silence until he finishes chewing on his sandwich and swallows, "no one had seven fingers in that photo, firstly." he huffed, avoiding eye contact, "secondly, i appreciate your attempt at flattery."
"any time." you laugh, and so does he.
YOU'RE OUT. with your head resting on your knuckles, you aimlessly type away on your keyboard — next to you is stack of files you've been asked to digitise, so you are hours into typing them all up. there's a software that is meant to transcribe the text from a photo, but the majority of the papers were too crumbled or damaged for it to work. thus, you are left to do it manually in a hackneyed haze.
until you see a notification appear in the bottom corner of your screen. it's an email, from tsukishima. without thinking you immediately stop typing and click on it, bringing the email to full screen.
"SUBJECT: Performance Review.
Hi,
As you may know, it's protocol here at the Sendai City Museum that every member of staff undergoes an annual performance review, conducted by their supervisor. This is done to ensure that everyone is applying their best efforts to their roles and to address any qualms that staff may have.
I'm aware that you have not been employed here for over a year, thus usual procedure stipulates that you do not require a review yet. However, due to recent behaviours and concerns, I believe that an exception can be made in this instance.
I've set a meeting time for 6PM on Friday.
Regards, Tsukishima."
What the hell?
over the last three days, basically ever since you received that email, you've been on your very best behaviour. you've not been irritating him or bothering him during his lunch hour, nor have you been giving pet names to the barista to put on his coffee. nothing of the sort; you've been the perfect employee — keeping your head down and getting on with your assignments.
granted, being the perfect employee sucks and isn't entertaining whatsoever. but you didn't want to give your boss any more reasons to fire you.
truthfully, a part of you is incredibly shocked that this would even happen. up until now you thought that tsukishima was good humoured enough to understand that all the social transgressions you committed were simply in jest. you thought that was the kinda dynamic going on; that he was terribly strict and rude but he'd make up for it by being secretly cool enough to overlook certain things that you did. evidently you misjudged that. turns out he's just strict and rude, with no redeeming qualities. being hot doesn't count as a redeeming quality.
it's whatever. hopefully you'll be able to weasel your way out of any disciplinary action by being sweet but even if you are fired, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world — is what you tell yourself. this job is boring anyway, and it would be constructive for you to free yourself from the shackles of evil co-workers and rooms that smell like drywall and dust constantly.
so, when friday 6PM rolls around and everyone packs up and starts filtering out of the museum, you grab your staff and stroll towards tsukishima's office without a care in the world. well, maybe you cared a little, evidenced by the tremor in your knees and twitching of your eye. but largely, you didn't care!
you knock on the door and he summons you in, and you take a seat across from him, just like you did when you were eating lunch together. although atmosphere this time was far more intense. he's got a suit jacket on this time and you can smell his expensive, fresh cologne from across the desk. he has files in front of him but you can't read them because his computer is in the way.
"glad you came." he states monotonely, without looking up from the papers, "are you ready for your performance review?"
"no." you huff, crossing your arms over your chest, "you're just going to try come up with some reason to fire me, cos you're tired of me."
tsukishima stares at you wide-eyed, honestly he was not expecting you to be so upfront and confrontational about this. people in the professional world usually aren't. he clears his throat and replies, "true, i am tired of you. but i'm not looking for a reason to fire you. the work you have done so far is decent, so i invited you here to give you the opportunity to apologise, promise you'll stop being an annoyance and then we could both move on."
"apologise?!" you snort, "why would i apologise? i've not done anything wrong."
"that so?" he quirks a brow, biting the inside of his mouth to stop himself from raising his voice, "what about the time you tricked me into thinking i was having a stroke?"
"i just said a few words out of order; stop being dramatic." you scoff, rolling your eyes, under the firm belief that nothing you've done so far could be classified as 'wrong'. just silly, vexing even.
"you disturbed me during my lunch break and said my certificate was fake." he sneers.
"how dare i disturb lord tsukishima during his sacred lunch hour. if that is such a blasphemous deed then feel free to exile me." you gawk, tone dripping with sarcasm and contempt, all while tsukishima glares daggers at you from across the desk. "also, i did not say your certificate was fake. i'm sure you did win that junior league volleyball tournament eons ago; i said the picture was fake, and we established i was only joking."
tsukishima's heart races. he's not been spoken to in much a manner by a subordinate since... ever. despite working here for over ten years, he still doesn't feel practised enough to know how to deal with this. but what he does know is that you are triggering the asshole in him, hence he stands up with his hands on his desk and commands down at you, with the intention of putting a quick end to this confrontation, "joking or not, you've been shockingly unprofessional these last couple weeks. now, quiet down or else i'll... uh, i'll"
he stumbles over his words. unsure if he should threaten to fire you or something more severe, and this decision results in him stumbling over his words — a fatal error. this allows you the chance to stand up slowly from your chair, not quite getting on his level but still a intimidating display of fearlessness. you scowl up at him and ask, "or else you'll what?"
...
there's a pause. the seconds after that are a frenzy of limbs, heated kisses and hands where they don't belong. you never thought this would be the boiling point of your uneasy relationship with your dickhead boss, but here you are; folded over his desk with your skirt hiked up to your waist, his papers all thrown to the floor and his computer shoved aside. "ngh, please.." you groan.
"this what you wanted?" he mutters harshly under his breath as he frantically undoes his zipper and pulls out his cock, smearing the head against your pleading lips, "all of this just to get my attention?" you moan out in reaction to his tip against your hot core and he takes this as a response, "well, you've got it now." he punctuates his sentence with a firm slap on your ass which makes you cry out even more.
from his big hands on your waist pinning you down, to his hot minty breath breathing down your neck, you're already soaked for him by this point. his cockhead runs back and forth through your folds, stimulating your needy heat until he finally dips his tip shallowly into your hole and growls, "need me to teach you how to fucking behave?"
"yes, sir." you mewl back, trying to buck back onto his dick but his arm is surprisingly strong and keeps you pinned right in place, any attempt you make to move back is futile.
he laugh at this and says, "that's what i thought." right before plunging into you, his lengthy shaft penetrating you and splitting you open on his desk. a staggered moan rips from your throat as this happens, but it's hardly a deterrent for tsukishima. "feeling sorry yet?"
"y-yeah." you stammer, eyes squeezed shut. his length is pushing against your insides, and you're barely able to fit him but he's crammed himself all the way in there, to the point were your folds are virtually kissing his base. you're unable to cope with the vast amount of pleasure and discomfort circling in your abdomen, you try to grab onto something but he has you laid out on his desk, tits pressed against the hard wood. you can't grab the smooth surface so fingers curl around the front edge of the desk.
"good. and i'm also sorry for what i'm about to do to this poor cunt." his voice drips with scorn. he kisses his fingers and uses them to lovingly massage and toy with your clit. giving you a few deceptively calm and sweet moments to cherish before he yanks his hand away and begins pounding into you from behind.
the force of his hips snapping into your ass causes your whole body to shake and rock on top of desk, his hands moving you to the natural rhythm and emphasisng your ass bouncing on his pelvis. "how's it feel, baby?" he grabs a handful of your ass, using that and your waist to keep you in place.
"guh— hah— good!" you squeal, eyes rolling back in your head from the intense euphoria of his cock repeatedly cramming itself into your sopping pussy. having to contort around his length each time brings you a sizzle of pain and satisfaction that it near constant.
"hurts?"
"y-yeah."
"good." he smirks, slapping your ass once more and basking the cute squeak you emit. "it's what you get for being a fucking brat."
"seriously." he gasps, losing momentum slightly but still got a fire in him, a desire to rearrange your insides and keep lashing into you until you've forgot your own name. "i've worked here for over a decade." his teeth grind together, cock starting to weep at being suffocated by your drenched pussy. "and i've never met a girl as insolent and— ah— tight, as you!"
you're not sure if that was meant to be an insult, either way you only feel more motivated to clamp down on him, and his eagerness to be inside you works against him as you swallow him up and he cums inside you, gripping your ass and waist as he fills you up with his seed. his nails dig into you so you're moan moaning all the way through his climax.
once he's done, he leans forward and grabs your hair, pulling you back into a rough arch so he can whisper in your ear, "learnt your lesson yet?" as he nears you, the aroma of sandalwood and citrus, mingled with his natural musk floods your senses. "still feel like being an annoyance, or does this slutty cunt need another round?"
although the proposition of another creampie is tempting, you do feel quite worn out. additionally, you feel like tsukishima definitely put his best effort into that so you should probably throw the old man a bone. "i've.. learned my lesson."
there's a beat of silence. tsukishima gently lets go of your hair and your heads rests back on the desk, as he straightens himself out. "hm," he clicks his tongue, pulling out of your soiled pussy with a lewd squelch, "i should probably make you come anyway, for good measure."
before you can even properly process what he said, his slender fingers latch back onto your poor clit. he's awfully cruel, rubbing and pinching and pulling the most pornographic moans from you. toes curling with ecstasy, your mind blurs in a haze of lust and you all but melt into the desk.
you're so lost in your horny trance that you almost choke on your own spit when replaces his fingers on your clit with tongue, "mm, delicious, sweetheart." he hums into your cunt, the vibrations sends a shiver down your spine. his lips work against your folds, then his tongue ventures deeper into your hole, although as the distance closes his glasses end up in the way. the cold surface against your warmth serves as a shock to your system and your eyes jolt open.
he briefly pulls away and removes them, noticing your juices on them and muttering, "crude slut." under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear. mixed signals. you're not given a moment to ponder it though as he dives straight back into your cunt. he wraps an strong arm around your legs and licks stripes inside you, forcing the full length of his tongue inside your pussy.
due to his expert fingers stimulating your clit and the ceaseless movement of his tongue, it's not long before your hunched over the desk and screaming his name into the emptiness of the room. "please, please— tsukishima! i—"
"shh, shh, baby." he urges, swiftly replacing his tongue with the fingers of his other hand and skillfully coaxing you through your orgasm, not allowing for even a momentary lull in the onslaught of pleasure. "almost there. let me take care of you."
you do as he says, fully submitted to his hand and just as promised, he guides you through your climax with ease. the concrete ball on your stomach dissolves into something much softer and your spasming walls fade in intensity. soon, you're laying breathless and completely fucked out on your boss' desk, pussy dripping onto the vinyl floor.
he gets up from his knees and composes himself up: zipping his fly, putting his glasses back on, tidying his hair and the like. then, he calmly saunter around to the front of his desk where you face is, and sit down in his chair. he smirks down at you, "that was relaxing. for me."
"something like that." you pant, resting your cheek on the wood.
"tired?"
"very."
"consider yourself lucky, then." he learns back in his chair, idly moving side to side, "had we done this 'back when i was athletic', you'd be worse off." he chuckles to himself, and you're too spent to laugh.
"so, am i fired?" you ask groggily.
"as long as you're not still laying with your legs spread come morning, no."
your eyes widen at this, "really?"
"if i fired you, you'd just go out and find some other old man to terrorise." he explains, meeting your weary gaze, "it's best you stay. at least i've figured out a way to deal with you."
cw: est. relationship, suggestive, men who yearn, physical affection, PDA, gifts, kissing mentioned, high effort boyfriend, & not proofread
ⓘ Featuring 𝓑𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝓑𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝓚𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎
boyfriend!bokuto is a die-hard romantic, even though his primary love language is physical touch, he never fails to express his love in new sweet ways.
Buying you small trinkets from everywhere he visits, small sketches on napkins whenever you head into American buffets, & the sweetest of all, he writes love letters whenever he misses you.
boyfriend!bokuto loves showing you affection—after a long practice, he'll come home, wrap his muscular arms around your waist & start pressing kisses to your shoulder between telling you about his day.
Bonus dopamine hit when you let him rest his head on your stomach & scratch his scalp before bed.
boyfriend!bokuto is always so ecstatic after a win; he runs to find you just so he can pull you into his embrace & kiss you.
It's always so cute; the footage of him rushing to you, radiating so much joy & love always goes a little viral.
boyfriend!bokuto always misses you when you can't make it to one of his games, & after a win without you there, all his teammates get to hear how, the moment he gets back to his motel room, he's calling you to celebrate.
He'll stay on the line with you till his words are slurring and you ensure him it's okay to goto bed & you'd see him in a few days.
boyfriend!bokuto likes to shower with you, shampooing your hair, letting you put a hair mask in his hair & massage at his scalp, washing each other's backs, sharing quick kisses, & the peacefulness of the rushing water.
Every time he showers with you, he always helps with your haircare routine & finds your robe for you.
boyfriend!bokuto keeps everything you've ever given him—there's a box on his dresser filled with every love letter, polaroid, trinket, stickers, even one of your perfumes you gave him, nestled comfortably in there.
boyfriend!bokuto bought the prettiest matching promise rings within a few months of dating. He knows the saying "when you know, you know," and mid-date, it hit him, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
He went out & bought them right after dropping you off at your apartment & now proudly wears it around, only taking it off in matches.
boyfriend!bokuto is always making sure to be the best boyfriend he can be for you !
bokuto gets yelled at quite a lot in your household. he gets yelled at for putting the fancy china in the dishwasher when he’s not supposed to, forgetting to separate the laundry and dying all of your clothes an ugly washed out red, and leaving puddles all over the bathroom floor because he steps out of the shower without drying off first and never puts the bath mat down.
one afternoon, your daughter is sitting at the table drawing, legs dangling from the chair, scribbling with colorful crayons on paper and drinking juice from her princess sippy cup. you take a seat next to her to ask her a question.
“baby, what’s mommy’s name?”
she puts down her coloring utensils and says cheerfully, with a smile as wide and bright as her father’s, “mommy!”
“and how about daddy’s name?”
without a single second of hesitation she takes a deep breath to prepare herself and yells so loud you feel the house shake, “KOOOUUUTAAAROOOUUU!”
you laugh at the way she furrows her brows and juts out her bottom lip the same way you do when you’re frustrated at your husband’s antics.
“i guess mommy does yell at daddy at lot, huh?”
she nods and gives that look that tells you, yeah right, we know. “yup. because daddy always does silly stuff!” she giggles at the thought.
you giggle back in agreement. “he does, doesn’t he?”
you hear loud footsteps pad down the hardwood floor in the hallway, and bokuto’s head pops out from the corner.
“sweetheart, did you call my name?”
you and your daughter just laugh. like mother, like daughter.
a/n: i think im gonna start writing again, slowly at least so i dont get burnout like i did last time i was in here. im probably never gonna finish my summer event i started before i fell of the face of the earth so sorry to everyone who requested and never got anything tysm for your support nonetheless </3 anyways ok pls take this i thought it was cute 👍
wc: 0.7k
content warning: established relationship, semi-public, smut, eateerrrr osamu x reader, not proofread, lowkey just tried to finish this draft that's been sitting here for ages LOL.. i think i wrote smth w a similar plot before, tbh this prolly butt
⠀𓂃ᮬํඉ⠀
"w-wait 'samu.. what if someone comes in?"
getting a text from your husband, osamu, saying that the store was pretty slow, you drop by at your husband's little onigiri shop. little did you know, you'd be in the back getting stuffed by him like one of his menu items.
upon entrance, you're met with his warm greeting like a customer until you get closer to the front where osamu taps his lips on your cold bare cheek.
"been a bit slow till you came in," osamu chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes admired your face.
"is that so?" you smiled, making your way around the counter to get closer to him.
"yeah, i don't think we'll get any customers for maybe... around 15 minutes?" his eyes darted to his watch, then back to you before planting another kiss on your cheek... which slowly slid down your jaw and neck.
"thenn... let's head to the back for a bit?" you giggled at the excitement from getting all touchy and lovey-dovey in the forbidden workplace.
he's got your hand in his as he leads you through the doors and into the kitchen. osamu's got his big beefy arms around you, helping you up onto the cold counter surface. your legs were spread enough for him to get closer to your embrace. arms around your waist, he gripped you tighter with each smothering kiss.
osamu's got himself taking off his black cap and tossing it to the side as your fingers delicately ran through his hair. the air quickly turned warm with arousal as the kitchen slightly echoed with the sounds of your sloppy kisses and muffled moans.
you're sat at a height tall enough to feel his bulge press and grow against your crotch. it sat tight in his dark pants and rubbed all up with your clothed intimate area, emitting heat from your two bodies.
it didn't help that you were practically sopping the moment you've latched yourself onto osamu, but the pent up friction of your intimate areas and the fabrics between them felt so delicious. with your hands that lingered all over osamu's body, you reached lower to unbutton your pants.
"gosh y'er so scandalous," osamu smirked while watching you pull your pants down to your knees.
admiring the pair of undies you choice, he can't help but pull them down to see your bare glistening cunt that ached for his touch. with his middle and index, osamu glides down, feeling all of your essence that pooled onto his fingers.
"so wet f'me.. it's like ya been waiting for me to call huh?" osamu's hot breath between your legs tickled your inner thighs before digging in.
feeling his tongue slide between your folds, it was like sweet ecstacy. clenching your insides when you felt the tip of his tongue find your clit, you can't help but start to grip onto his locs of hair. you can feel his face twist into a smile as he continued to eat you up like he hasn't ate in days.
it's overwhelmingly exhilarating, working such a hard day to get treated so well in the back while he's still on the clock. your breathing's starting to get all messed up and raggedy the more he slurped on your clit and sucked on the little bundle of nerves.
arching your back right into his face, you just needed more!
osamu's humming with a low growl in his voice that tickled furthermore. it was simply just pure bliss as your hands started to push his head closer to your pussy while you grinded into onto his face.
osamu's such a fiesty eater, he's licking every drop of your slick that dares to falls. he's got your toes curling, forehead starting to glisten, mouth slightly parted with sinful muffles to avoid further echoing throughout the kitchen... god he is just perfect.
each little suckle on your clit made your mind start to turn white. cumming right into his mouth, he couldn't help himself but simply drink up your orgasm like he was simply thirsty on a blazing hot day.
it wasn't until you heard the bell ring at the front of the shop, meaning that a customer's here.
Nobody would ever expect it, hell he doesn’t even expect it.
All it took was one little, “I think you’d look hot with an eyebrow piercing,” paired with a slow bat of your lashes.
Now he’s sitting on a piercing bed, gripping your hand like they’re going to shoot him in the head.
“This is so fucking stupid,” he grumbles, eyebrows pinched together as the piercer finishes setting up across the room.
“You don’t have to do it you know” you laugh, your other hand rubbing slow circles on his thigh to calm his nerves.
He shoots you a flat look immediately, “Shut up”
That only makes you laugh harder, “What the hell did I do?”
His jaw tightens, ears faintly pink now, “You sat there batting those pretty little lashes at me saying I’d look hot,” he mutters, like this is somehow a perfectly reasonable explanation, “Now I have to do it.”
You crinkle your nose at him, your soft little smile soothing the nervous knot in his stomach, “Haji, you’re literally a grown man. You can do whatever you want.”
“And I want to make you happy, sue me” he shoots back instantly.
The words hit harder than they should. The way he says it so casually, so matter-of-fact.
Like your happiness is the easiest thing in the world to prioritize.
You can’t help the fond grin that pulls at your lips, or the warmth that blooms across your face.
Iwa notices immediately, of course he does.
He playfully rolls his eyes, his own little smile tugging at his lips now, “Quit lookin at me like that, you’re making me more nervous now”
You grin, thumb brushing over his knuckles, “You’re so ridiculous.”
He pulls your hand to his lips, peppering tiny little kisses all over it just as the piercer walks back over and starts setting things down beside him.
“God,” he mumbles against your skin, “you’re so lucky I love you this much.”
Your smile only grows as you huff out a little laugh, “You’re gonna look so hot”
He goes completely silent.
Then, after a beat,
“…Yeah?”
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A/N: this was so stupid he’d look so delicious with an eyebrow piercing tho
this was for the anons that wanted iwa content, enjoy
finding out frat iwazumi has a tongue piercing……. :p
[18+]
the vibration from the speakers downstairs were felt on your back, while you laid down on iwazumis bed. he had your hips pinned down with his forearms, caging you in so you aren’t moving around for him.
“hold still… movin’ too much—“ he said against your puffy folds.
he dipped his head down on you again, but you stopped him, grabbing his hair and sitting up slightly on both elbows.
“what is that..?” you spoke shyly, raising a brow down at iwa
“what is what?” he said, resting his cheek on your inner thigh while he waited for you to release your fingers from his hair.
“feels hard— like cold everytime you go back down.”
“ohhhh~ you talkin’ about this?—“ he drew his tongue out from his mouth, revealing a small metal ball on his red tongue, licking a strip on your lower stomach. “—just got it, got dared by the guys and they told me they’d pay for all my drinks if I did it.”
you groaned, throwing your head back on the pillow. “god you’re stupid…”
he laid more kisses on your lower stomach, inner thighs, going back to your pussy. he pecked your clit before licking an experimental strip on your folds.
“feel it? right here—“ he rolled his tongue in circles around your clit, watching your movements precisely. “—feel good?”
you arched your back up, thighs threatening to sit on him, unable to keep still underneath Jim and his gaze. “right there— yes haijime…”
he slapped one palm over your thigh, bracing your legs wide open, keeping both hands down on your thighs. he continued, moving his piercing in specific directions to drive you insane.
“after this— ‘wanna go take shots off your tits. you’ll hold the lime between your lips okay?”
