thinking about roommate!mattsun who knows way too much about your cycle—it’s to the point where he’ll set out your pads and tampons a day or two before you actually start bleeding, and the pills you keep tucked away in the cabinet for your cramps will ever so helpfully appear on your bedside table next to your favorite sports drink the morning of day three, the day the tight pain low in your belly is undeniably at its worst.
the strangest part is that he doesn’t ever say anything about it, just makes sure the heating pad is plugged in by the couch before you even realize you need it
he does tend to linger a little closer than usual though, letting you lean into him while you watch a movie together late in the evening as his fingers dig into the base of your spine, exactly where your muscles have gone tight
your cramps are typically mild, but every once in a while they become much more bothersome—he comes home on one such occasion, late one afternoon to find you curled up on the couch, brow pinched in discomfort despite the heating pad being cranked to max and laying across your lap
he’s quick to kneel next to the cushions where you look up at him with the most pitiful expression and say, “nothing’s helping,”
the words of comfort he offers are met with an off handed, sarcastic comment about how one of your friends mentioned that orgasms can help alleviate cramps
which is how you suppose you find yourself sprawled out on the cushions with a towel laid beneath you and your roommate’s fingers buried in your sopping cunt, petting gently against the warmth of your walls until your back is bowing into an arch and you’re coming hard around his fingers, his name falling from your lips in a breathy sigh of relief, suddenly grateful for the uncanny way he always seems to know exactly what you need
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
There is no sunlight in Ghost Valley.
or
The Ghost Valley master took another sip of wine and stared into the unending darkness. His mind wandered far away to the world that basked in the sun; a world of warmth and love. Days- long, filled with the fragrance of flowers, food and life. There were, of course, nights that were ruined by bloody nightmares but they always ended. Chased away by a bright light and a boy.
Okay so I wrote this for my friend. I’m really sorry if you don’t like it. I just got some inspiration.
“You’re also dressed as a pirate, mi amigo?” Antonio asked me. I came to this dumb Halloween party, just wearing some of my old pirate clothes as a costume. I chose the easiest thing to wear, seeing as I was just planning on getting wasted and going home. “Sure,” I said, sidestepping him to go to the bar. Alfred said earlier that he was paying for everyone’s drinks and I wanted in on that. “Care for a drink?” he asked, stepping in front of me. “You’re only asking that because Alfred’s paying,” I said, rolling my eyes, but still following him to the bar. “I bet I can drink more than you. You are kind of a lightweight, Arthur,” he challenged me. “You can not! Wanker! Besides, you know I can’t turn down a challenge, no matter how obvious it is that I’m going to win,” I said, shooting him a competitive glare.
An hour later, we were both obviously drunk. He hiccupped and said, “Mi amigo, you know that I could take over your ship easily!” “You,” I paused to glare at him and smack the table, “could not!” “Fight me, then,” he said. I pondered the idea for a moment, before asking, “How could we fight? We don’t even have swords.” We both questioned this for a few minutes, before Francis came into the party with two plastic toy pirate swords shouting, “Fashionably late, mon amis!” Antonio and I rushed over to grab the swords as fast as our wobbly legs could take us.
He attempted to hit me with the sword. “Now it’s time,” I said, smiling and parrying his clumsy hit, “for you to go down!” “Not so fast,” he paused, almost as if thinking of something, “Not so fast, mi amor.” I questioned the new nickname, but assumed it was just another way to say friend in Spanish. After all, Antonio never thought of me as more than that. The only person he ever cared about- the way that I cared about him- was Lovino. I laughed to myself. We even looked like we had a couples costume on.
In the time it took for me to think of all of that, I had to back up a few steps to subconsciously avoid hits. I went in for a hit, but he stopped me by grabbing my wrist. “Antonio,” I glared at him, “don’t play dirty.” He stepped towards me, backing me against the wall. He then tilted my chin up so that I was looking into his eyes, “Oh, mi amor, dirty is the only way that I want to play with you.” He pinned my arms above my head and kissed me. It was a drunken kiss. There was a little too much tongue. I could taste the wine in his mouth and I’m sure he could taste the gin in mine. But to me, it was perfect.
I woke up the next morning with a killer headache and a certain Spaniard in my bed. I was sure I would never forget the meaning of amor.
➻❥ SPRING FEVER
➻❥ a 30 day writing event created by @sunee-syrup
DAY 1 ༘⋆✿⁀➷ dry humping -> kita shinsuke
cw/tags: ➻❥ a sprinkle of soft dom!kita, spoiler, he comes in his pants
wc: ➻❥ 897
ִֶָʚଓ་༘࿐ punk's event masterlist ࿐་༘ ʚଓ
ִֶָʚଓ་༘࿐ honee's event masterlist ࿐་༘ ʚଓ
It starts slow, with Shinsuke's hands holding your cheeks as he kisses you softly while some movie neither of you is really too invested in plays in the background, its light illuminating your faces in flashes of color. He's the one who deepens the kiss, tongue pressing beseechingly against your bottom lip, as he pulls you into his lap, your thighs bracketed on either side of his own.
There must be something in the air.
Kita's hand laces through your hair, gentle yet firm in the way he keeps your mouth pressed to his so that he can pour into you a mixture of desperation and devotion so potent it nearly sweeps you away. You make a soft sound at the press of teeth into your lip, and the way you roll your hips down against the growing hardness below you is almost instinctual—the feeling of your soft sleep shorts dragging across the seam of his jeans sparks a fire low in your belly.
"C'mere," he breathes against you, though you don't think you could get any closer if you tried.
You're not sure where the intensity came from, but the soft way all of this had started is nowhere to be found now. Kita's grip on your hips has turned bruising, and he's moved you so that you're now straddling only one of his thighs, grinding down into the solid muscle beneath you. The soft sighs that had fallen from your lips before are now desperate pleas for more.
"I've got you," he assures you breathlessly when you bury your fingers in his hair, tugging insistently.
"Shin," you're close to begging, the roll of your hips uncoordinated, letting the need that's consuming your every thought make the decision to move for you.
"Promise I've got you," he tells you again, pulling down on your hips as he flexes the muscles in his thigh, sending zips of electricity across your skin. You make a keening sound, wrapping your arms fully across his shoulders and kissing him harder.
A moment later movement takes your breath, and you find yourself on your back, Shinsuke's body hovering over yours for a fraction of a second before he lets his weight settle fully against you, hands finding their way beneath your top to squeeze and grab at the soft swell of your waist and hips.
When he rolls down again you feel your panties glide across slick folds beneath your shorts, undeniably soaked through at this point. He presses down against you again and again until you're having trouble drawing in a full breath each time the seam of his jeans presses into your clothed clit just right.
You can't help the way you squirm against the weight of him, desperately grabbing at the hem of his shirt in an attempt to feel his skin on yours.
"Be still," he chides, though his voice is more breathy than it is commanding. Biting at his lip in an attempt to get him to bend to your will, he only responds by bringing one of his hands to squeeze at your cheeks, holding your jaw in place so he can look down at you. Kita's motions have stilled above you—you can feel the way tears prick at your lash line at his denial to move.
"You'll come like this first." You try to protest but he just tightens his grip on your face. "I'll fuck you afterwords."
He bends to catch the lonely tear that falls down your cheek, the press of his lips soft against your heated skin.
You don't have much of a choice but to nod. The "good girl" you get in response to your agreement like a balm to your quickly fraying nerves. Though he's never let you down, it's still hard to cease your squirming beneath him when you're feeling this desperate—somehow you manage, and you're glad you do because with the next calculated roll of his hips he's dipping down to suck at the skin of your throat, rosy bruises blooming when he pulls away, the sharp sting of it pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
His hips stutter and you inhale sharply, the sound melting into a long, drawn out moan as you realize he's coming, able to feel the way his cock kicks beneath his jeans. Ever attentive, he doesn't slow his motions against you though you're sure overstimulation is already beginning to make itself known.
"So perfect," he breathes against you, using his grip on your jaw to pull your face to his. He kisses you like he wants to crawl inside your soul and live there, teeth pressing against your lips and his own wrapping around your tongue to suck softly until you feel the waves finally crest, washing over your skin for what feels like an eternity. They swell further and you can't help the way you continue to press up into the weight of him. You don't even come down fully before you find yourself saying his name.
"Shinsuke," it's pleading, and when your hands go for the hem of his shirt this time he lets you pull at it with a rare smirk on his face.
"Guess you've earned it," he says as his hands pull your sleep shorts to the side, fingers already pressing into the molten heat he finds waiting for him.
➻❥ SPRING FEVER
➻❥ a 30 day writing event created by @sunee-syrup
DAY 6 ༘⋆✿⁀➷ filming -> akaashi keiji + bokuto koutarou
cw/tags: ➻❥ making a fully platonic sex tape with your best friend and his boyfriend, threesome (mmf), manhandling, oral (f receiving), double vaginal penetration
wc: ➻❥ 2.2k
long a/n sorry: ➻❥ this was originally just going to be akaashi x reader but i had a brain blast so now bokuto is included! kind of obsessed with this whole concept and so so happy with how it turned out as a whole. i knew i wanted to make it platonic and i think i ended up doing a really good job conveying that if i do say so myself idk i just really like the way their dynamic played out, like they love each other and it's not a secret or a surprise, just something that almost feels like a given bc they're so close...sorry i'll shut up i'm a lil high and a lot sappy lmao please enjoy and let me know what you think!!! <3
ִֶָʚଓ་༘࿐ punk's event masterlist ࿐་༘ ʚଓ
ִֶָʚଓ་༘࿐ honee's event masterlist ࿐་༘ ʚଓ
"Okay, run me through this one more time."
Bokuto sighs, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling, arms crossed over his chest, "Kaashi, if I'm getting it and you're not, we might have bigger problems."
He winks at you when you giggle despite the way his boyfriend is currently scowling at him.
"I'm just not understanding why you're asking us," Akaashi elaborates, still straight faced.
It's your turn to sigh, but it's more of an exasperated groan. "I trust you two—this is a very important item on my bucket list, and if you're worried about Bo we'll keep his face out of the frame, no big deal. Honestly I don't even have to post it anywhere, it's more for me than anything."
The two men share a look, and you can tell they're having a discussion though they don't say a single word.
Finally, it's Akaashi's who's sighing, "Okay, fine. We'll do it."
You hop up out of your chair, bringing your hands together excitedly, bouncing over to wrap your arms around the both of them, "Yay! Thank you!"
As silly as it sounds, the set up really does feel strangely professional—crisp white sheets ruffled artfully on your guestroom be and studio-worthy lighting all framed perfectly in the lens of one of Akaashi's cameras that you know costs as much as several months worth of your rent.
You're kind of impressed by how relaxed Akaashi seems to be about all of this, calmly laying out the shots he's planning and showing you the angles he'll be featuring. You and Bokuto on the other hand are both jittery with nerves, the excited kind that make your skin prickle with anticipation.
You find that, despite the way Akaashi sounds almost clinical as he gives direction, the feeling of Bokuto's tongue lapping at your cunt still easily has your heart racing and heat pooling low in your belly. You card your fingers gently through his hair, earning a soft hum that you can feel the vibrations of when his lips wrap around your clit and suck.
"Kou-"
You forget yourself for a moment, biting your tongue before his full name slips out, glancing over at Akaashi to catch the disapproving way he's looking at you.
"Sorry," you try to tell him, but it comes out as a moan because of the way Koutarou is pressing a finger into your cunt. He's the one that answers your apology either way, barely even looking up from where he's watching your muscles tighten every time he pets over your g spot, "S'okay, lots of Koutarou's in the world—Kaashi can cut it out."
That's right, not only did Akaashi agree to film your bucket list sex tape, the one that features his own boyfriend, but he'd offered to edit it as well because in his words, "If we're gonna do this we're gonna do it right." You bite at the swell of your lip, smiling softly as you let your head fall back against the pillow with a content sounding sigh.
"Baby."
Akaashi's voice draws you out of your dreamy haze, away from the feeling of Bokuto's facial hair scratching softly at your inner thighs, and you can't help but whine when he stills between your legs, two fingers still buried deep but no longer moving. It's almost worth the loss to watch the way Bokuto's cheeks get warm at the pet name. "Yeah?" he finally manages to rasp out, petting absentmindedly at your thigh with his free hand.
"I'm gonna set up the next shot," Akaashi tells you both.
You yelp in surprise when you suddenly find yourself being flipped onto your stomach, hips hoisted effortlessly into the air while a large hand gently presses your back into a pretty arch.
"Like this?" Bokuto asks from behind you while you sit in stunned silence, face feeling warm.
"Koutarou what the fuck," you breathe, hands slapping over your own mouth when you realize you've said his name again. The man in question just huffs a laugh, bending at the waist to cage you in, his large frame nearly obscuring your own figure so that he can speak directly into your ear, teasing and low, the sound making your whole body go hot, "You're not very good at this."
You start to protest, but then he's sucking marks into the flushed skin at your shoulder and all that comes out is a pleasured sigh.
"Oh fuck," you cry brokenly at the press of his cock against your folds, the way he nudges it against your clit before sinking into you, barely an inch, only to pull back and do it all again. He teases you like that for what feels like an eternity, until you're whining with each exhale and pressing back against him. Koutarou hisses a breath through clenched teeth when he finally rolls his hips until he's fully inside you, panting out the sound of your name, "You feel so good, mmh-"
Stretching your arms further in front of you, you press your chest to the mattress, humming while you wiggle your hips, "Yeah?" Your teasing works, and Bokuto makes a soft choking sound behind you.
The next time he flexes his hips, he doesn't give you a chance to breathe, fucking in hard, keeping his pace steady until you're having trouble forming a full thought with how clouded with pleasure your brain has become. You have to work to keep your eyes from falling shut, choosing to focus on Akaashi instead, who's standing behind the camera a few feet away from the edge of the bed.
"Kaashi," you purr, blinking up at him. Bokuto slows a fraction, listening quietly as Akaashi narrows his eyes at you like he's bracing for something, saying your name in that soft exasperated way of his.
"You wanna know what else is on my list?"
He just looks at you, waiting for you to continue or just flat out refusing to answer, you're not sure, nor do you particularly care—you can see the way the tips of his ears have gone red. You drag the suspense out a little, pressing your hips back so that Bokuto sinks in a little deeper, making a soft, sultry sound.
"Double penetration," you inform him, feigning nonchalance while something warm and wanting settles in your chest, quietly hopeful.
Despite his caution, your response isn't what he was expecting, and all he hears for a moment is static, brain whirring to process what you're asking him. He distantly hears Bokuto's voice, pitched in a whisper that's not really a whisper, "I think you broke him." You only giggle breathlessly, the sound tapering into a moan when Bokuto brings he hips back to fuck into you again.
"Y-you don't have to," you assure him, uneven and breathy because Bokuto is still thrusting into you, just a little less aggressively than before, "seriously no-ah pressure."
You miss the way him and Bokuto make eye contact, another silent conversation, and Bo's smile grows wide.
"Okay," Akaashi states, "fuck it."
There's a bit of maneuvering as he adjusts the camera, the sound of your soft whine when Koutarou pulls out of you, leaving you miserably empty, and then you're hovering over Akaashi's lap where he's halfway propped up against the pillows, already hard and leaking.
You open your mouth to tease, but he beats you to it, "You know what the two of you look like—don't even." The smirk that pulls at his lips when your cheeks flush at the oddly delivered compliment isn't lost on you.
Bokuto's kneeling behind you, and you can feel the press of his cock at the small of your back as his hands wander, squeezing at your thighs before he leans over you to touch Akaashi. You watch the man below you bite down on his lip at the feeling of Bokuto's fingers wrapping around him, leaning forward to pull it from between his teeth so you can kiss him, soft at first before it becomes nothing more than the heated slide of tongues and teeth.
This is, surprisingly, your first time kissing Akaashi, though you're not surprised to find he's good at it, tongue moving languidly against yours before he sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away only long enough for you to take a breath before he's pulling you in again.
When you shift back to sink down onto him he makes a sound you're finding it hard not to get addicted to. You're so wet at this point that it's nothing to take him all the way to the hilt in one go, settling comfortably in his lap while Bokuto kisses his way across your shoulders, hands overlapping Akaashi's on your waist.
Akaashi rolls his hips beneath you once, like he can't help it, cheeks flushing softly when you make a quiet sound and raise your brow at him, more than a little smug. Bokuto's hands wander higher, grabbing at your chest and gently pinching your nipples until you're keening and Akaashi is cursing hoarsely at you every time you clench down on him—it's not like you can help it, you're more than a little worked up right now.
There's a click behind you, the bottle of lube in Bokuto's hand, soon followed by the slick sound of him coating his length before taking hold of your waist and flexing forward. Akaashi full-on moans beneath you at the feeling of Bokuto's cock rubbing up against the base of his own, and it has you squeezing around him again.
Before you realize what's happening, Akaashi is readjusting, sitting up a little further so that he can look at Bokuto over your shoulder before he pulls you in to kiss you hard.
You feel a small, open-mouthed, kiss against your shoulder and then it's all heat as Bokuto begins to press in alongside Akaashi. It's slow going, a gentle thrust in and then out again, pushing a little deeper each time. At some point you get so breathless that Akaashi is forced to stop kissing you, instead taking your face in his hands to watch the way your eyes threaten to roll back into your skull when you feel Koutarou's hips press flush to your own skin.
"Holy shit."
It feels incredible, the sensation of them both inside you, trying hard not to move until you give them the go-ahead.
"Okay?" Akaashi asks you, voice hushed and warmer than you're used to hearing it. It makes your heart skip at beat, and you can't help the way you smile gently at him.
"Yeah," you reach back to lace your fingers through the shaggy hair at the back of Bokuto's head, "feels really good. You can move now—slow."
Twin kisses are simultaneously placed on your jaw and neck, comforting in the way you're used to while also somehow feeling new.
Akaashi is the one who lights the fuse, carefully rolling his hips beneath you. You keen, fingers pulling at Bokuto's hair when he follows suit, pulling himself from your heat with a soft, slick sound before pressing right back in.
It gets quiet for a while, intimate in a way you hadn't expected. The soft sound of skin on skin interspersed with hushed murmurs, encouragements and praise all wrapped together. Your heart feels full, ribcage crowded with something warm and familiar, soft.
Bokuto says your name languid and familiar, and when you turn to see his face he kisses your cheek gently. "Love you," he whispers against your skin, and you can feel the smile on his lips.
You laugh quietly before easily replying, "Love you, Bo." Turning from him, but keeping a hand on his cheek, you look down at Akaashi, playfully expectant. He tweaks your nipple, still shallowly rolling his hips, and you narrow your eyes at him. Finally, he huffs a laugh through his nose, pulling your face close. "Your pussy's good, but I'm not gonna tell you I love you," he pauses, leaning over your shoulder to kiss Bokuto gently, "you two are too soft."
His words are, to say the least, insulting—but they're wrapped in tenderness, said through a soft smirk, eyes full of amusement as he watches you. There are some things about Akaashi that you just get, no extra explanation needed.
The unknown span of time that follows is filled with quiet laughter and the low, breathy moans that fall from your lips, the sound of skin on skin, and the feeling of hands that wander, leaving heat in their wake.
When you fall, it's in quick succession, filled, not once but twice, before you're pulled into a warm chest.
Bokuto returns to the bedroom, three water bottles and a bag of skittles in hand, to find you and Akaashi still spread out on the bed. He's leaning over to set his haul on the nightstand when he hears the sharp crack of two hands coming together with force. He turns to look at the two of you, huddled around Akaashi's laptop on the bed, clothes thrown on haphazardly, expressions soft and a little smug as you watch back the film.
"Did you guys just high five?"
You'll be lucky if the chorus of your combined laughter doesn't wake the neighbors.
a month long writing sprint event created by @sunee-syrup ➻❥ each day will be between 500-1000 words (i'm gonna try so hard to keep these all short wish me luck)
prompts ʚଓ་༘࿐
i've got a rough outline of prompts already, but please feel free to request characters/tropes/kinks over the next week by sending me an ask with the tag #spic3yspring ➻❥ honee is also taking requests for her upcoming summer event if you'd like to contribute there as well!
warnings ʚଓ་༘࿐
18+ only ➻❥ will contain kink and dark content!
°˖✿˚⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆˚✿˖°
ʚଓ day 1: dry humping ➻❥ kita shinsuke
ʚଓ day 2: panty fucking ➻❥ hanamaki takahiro
ʚଓ day 3: bondage ➻❥ hinata shoyo
ʚଓ day 4: fleshlight ➻❥ suna rintarou
ʚଓ day 5: car sex ➻❥ kuroo tetsuro
ʚଓ day 6: filming ➻❥ akaashi keiji & bokuto koutarou
ʚଓ day 7: orgasm denial ➻❥ aomine daiki (knb)
ʚଓ day 8: somnophilia/drugging ➻❥ bachira meguru (bllk)
ʚଓ day 9: age gap ➻❥ ukai keishin
ʚଓ day 10: 69/face sitting ➻❥ osamu miya
ʚଓ day 11: threesome ➻❥ matsukawa issei & suna rintarou
ʚଓ day 12: cucking ➻❥ iwaizumi hajime & miya atsumu
ʚଓ day 13: spit ➻❥ suna rintarou (& komori motoya)
cw: body image issues, oral (m receiving), p in v sex
You started dating Bokuto a month or so ago, and he's been nothing but sweet to you—so you can't for the life of you figure out why he won't fuck you. He'll do just about everything else, as long as it doesn't include him taking his pants off. He'll eat you out and stuff you so full of his fingers that you have a hard time thinking, but anytime you so much as inch your hands towards the button of his jeans he's gently pushing them away and assuring you, "It's okay, you don't have to."
But the problem is that you want to—so badly it's driving you a little insane.
When you finally break and flat out ask him why he won't fuck you, let alone let you catch a glimpse of him, his reluctant answer is shocking to say the least.
He looks like he wants to deflect like he has every other time you've subtly brought this up, but something about the way you're looking at him has him too weak to try. When the words, "it's small," finally tumble from his lips you can't help the shock that paints your features. If anything, you'd expected the exact opposite simply based on the fact that nothing else about him is even remotely small.
But how bad can it really be—it's all about how you use it right?
In the end, after a lot of coaxing and a litany of soft, encouraging words, he finally lets you pull his sweats off, bunching them around the bulk of his thighs followed by his compression shorts. He's quick to throw his arm over his face, shielding it from your gaze though you can see the way the embarrassed flush creeps down from his cheeks to disappear beneath the collar of his shirt.
He wasn't lying, it is small. Despite the way he's already started to harden from just a few lingering touches, the size still doesn't quite match the rest of him. You trail your fingers across his hips before easily wrapping your hand around the width of him, the pretty pink head sitting just above your closed fist.
"Bo," you call softly, tugging slowly at his length to draw a soft sound from his lips. He can only hum in response, breathless either from arousal or embarrassment, or more likely a combination of both.
With your free hand you reach up to carefully pull his arm from across his face only to find his brows dipped and his bottom lip pressed between his teeth, he won't meet your eyes. "I think you're perfect, y'know that?" you inform him quietly.
He immediately opens his mouth as if to contradict you, but you don't let him get a word in. "It's not what I was expecting given the rest of you," you glance pointedly at the bulk of his arms and thighs, "but there's nothing wrong with you, okay?"
Again, he looks like he wants to tell you you're wrong, but the words are quickly replaced with a strained moan as you swipe your thumb across the head of his cock, through the bit of precome he's already leaking. "Whoever made you feel bad about it is an asshole." You raise your brows at him as if daring him to tell you you're wrong.
"M'sorry," is the response he eventually settles on, and the quietly ashamed way he says it breaks your heart right in two.
"Oh, baby," you coo softly, moving so he'll sit with his back against your headboard. You settle between his legs, close enough that it's easy to lean forward and press your lips to his, your fingers once again wrapping around the length of him, stroking at a leisurly pace as you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip until he parts for you.
A big hand gently pushes your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear before cupping your cheek, pulling you closer as his breaths get heavier and the tension begins to disappear from his shoulders. His tongue presses against yours, little sounds of pleasure slipping through as your hand on him finds a speed he seems to like.
You feel a little bad when you stop, a needy whine spilling from his lips as his hips buck up in search of the lost friction, but you don't dwell on it. You're quick to soothe him, scooting back just enough to kiss your way down his chest, tongue darting out to lick a stripe up the length of him before you take him fully into your mouth.
His next breath catches in his chest, one of his hands finding its way to gently cup the back of your head while the other fists in the sheets at his side, as you suck and swirl your tongue around the flushed tip. Each time he says your name you can feel arousal build tight in your chest—you desperately want to make him feel good.
With each bob of your head you take him deeper until your nose brushes the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Bokuto tosses his head back as you nuzzle closer, glancing up to look at him, mouth full and eyes rimmed with pretty lashes. His previously loose grip on your hair tightens, just a little, and you go easily when he pulls you up and off of him as he eagerly uses his hold on you to bring your lips together. He kisses you hard, like he wants to consume you—you're not sure if he realizes that you'd happily let him.
The strained sound he makes has you pulling back out of concern, it ends up being unneeded when he speaks. You watch his teeth press in hard against him bottom lip, eyebrows pitched like he's unsure before he softly asks, "Will you let me fuck you?" Your eyelids flutter and you hum in satisfaction, heat pooling more urgently in your belly. "I need you, Bo," you tell him in return, already climbing into his lap and leaning in to kiss him once more.
Your skirt is bunched around your waist by calloused hands, a little frantic and a lot reverent. You can't help the way your arms wind around him, pulling him close like it hurts to be apart, lifting up just enough for him to push your panties to the side, velvet skin sliding against where you're wet and waiting. Both of you groan when you roll your hips and the head of his cock catches your clit just right. Bokuto seperates his lips from yours to look down between you, one hand on your hip and the other moving to lift your skirt so he can see the way his cock slides easily through your folds every time you grind down against him.
"Mm-fuck," he murmurs, leaning forward so his forehead rests against your shoulder, his voice gets a little smaller, "are you sure it's okay?"
You're quick to tilt his face up from where it's buried in the juncture of your shoulder, holding his gaze as you lift yourself, lining up so that when you sink down again, the head of his cock breaches your entrance. You don't get a chance to see his expression when you bottom out because of the way your own eyes flutter shut at the sensation, but you don't miss the strangled sound he lets out, wanton and in the shape of your name.
It takes a bit of adjustment, but eventually you find it, the angle that has him pressing against your walls just right, the slick sound of it audible in the otherwise quiet room. "Bo," you breathe, "feels good." His cheeks flush deeper and his grip on your hips tightens enough that he takes most of the strain off your legs, arms flexing beneath your palms as he lifts you just a little with each cant of your hips.
There's no intense stretch or struggle to take him, but the head of his cock presses just right to that spongy spot inside you, pressure building with each thrust until you're panting with your lips against his. "M'close," you breathe, watching as he nods in agreement, one of his hands leaving your hip to snake down between you, fingers easily finding your clit.
Suddenly you can't get close enough to him, can't press enough of your skin against his, arms wrapping over his shoulders so you can bury your fingers in his hair. He's overwhelmed by the same need, wrapping an arm securely around your waist to hold you in place as his movements speed up, each impact of his hips against yours louder than before.
It's him who tips over the edge first, but he doesn't alter the way he fucks up into you, only slowing when he feels your cunt squeeze rhythmically around him, hears the way your moans turn breathy and drawn out as you come undone above him.
Bokuto holds you tight in the following stillness, unusually quiet as the heaving of your chests slows to a more normal pace. When you pull back to look at him, face flushed, you're a little worried you'll find that he's upset, but the expression on his face is soft, almost relieved.
"Was that okay?" he asks you finally, still quiet, but the uncertainty from earlier is gone. You can't help but smile softly at him, running one of your fingers along the fat of his cheek. "Yeah," you nod, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, "it was good." He hums, and you can feel the rumble of it where your chests are pressed together.
Your smile turns coy, your words a little teasing, "I'd like to do it again sometime if that's alright with you." Bokuto breathes a laugh, drawing you in to kiss you soft and slow, "I think I'd like that."
➻❥SPRING FEVER
➻❥ a 30 day writing event created by @sunee-syrup
DAY 4 ༘⋆✿⁀➷ fleshlight -> suna rintarou
cw/tags: ➻❥ sex toy, phone/video sex. long distance relationship
wc: ➻❥ 1k
a/n: ➻❥ thought it might be fun to add a couple text messages to this one, let me know what you think! <3
suna contact photo drawn by me!
ִֶָʚଓ་༘࿐ punk's event masterlist ࿐་༘ ʚଓ
ִֶָʚଓ་༘࿐ honee's event masterlist ࿐་༘ ʚଓ
It takes you all of three minutes to trade out your pajamas for pink satin, closing the curtains and flipping on the fairy lights looped around your bed frame before you settle in atop the sheets, lounging on the fluffed pillows piled against the headboard.
The call connects, and the first thing you see is Suna pulling your gift from its box, tearing at the thin cardboard with barely contained enthusiasm—he hasn't even looked up at you yet.
"Someone's a little excited," you tease. He finally looks up to meet your eyes through the screen, making a soft choking sound when he sees the way silky fabric lays against the fullness of your hips, the soft swell of your chest.
"Is it my birthday," he asks, still frozen with the fleshlight pulled midway out of the box, "did I forget my own birthday?" You can't help the laugh that slips past your lips, "No, Rin, you didn't forget your own birthday." It's obvious that he's having trouble focusing, eyes flitting across his screen to take in the soft flush that paints the expanse of your skin, wrapped in the pretty lingerie he handed you with a kiss pressed to your cheek before you got on the train home last weekend.
Suna takes a deep breath before wasting no time shimmying out of his sweatpants, already mostly hard beneath them, and pulling his t-shirt off. He leans back against his own pillows, reaching out of frame to feel around his nightstand drawer, hand returning to your view holding a bottle of lube.
You can't help but take a moment to drink him in, his chest flushed, pupils dilated, cock already hard and leaking. "Just a reminder," you start, already sounding coy, "but that's not just a normal fleshlight."
His brows furrow like he's thinking, and you laugh lightly before you continue, "Custom made, remember? To feel as close to the real thing as possible."
Rin moans, low and sounding a little choked, "Baby I love you so much are you fucking kidding me I-"
"Rin," you stop him gently, holding his gaze while your hand leisurely makes it's way down to the waistband of your panties, "I'm gonna need you to shut the fuck up and focus for a second, kay?"
He nods silently, eyes wide with arousal.
"Touch yourself for me, baby," you command, still soft but bearing no room for argument. As you speak, your own fingers press past the fabric covering your heat, pulling it to the side to reveal wet, petaled folds. Rin makes another almost tortured sound, but does as you say, long fingers wrapping easily around himself.
"Want you to get yourself nice and worked up before you fuck me," your own voice gets more breathy as your fingers circle your clit.
His head falls back against the headboard and his hand speeds up. You keep prodding at him with your softly spoken words, encouraging him to roll his hips and fuck up into the tight space of his fist until he's circling his fingers around the base and squeezing tight, fighting off the overwhelming urge to let his orgasm overtake him.
Rin says your name, breathing hard, eyes pleading. "Go ahead," you encourage just as you dip two fingers into your heat, curling them on the way out with a quiet, wet sound.
You watch his hand scramble across the bed to find the clear silicone tube, leaning over to let a line of spit drip down onto the head of his cock, ignoring the lube next to him, before he lines it up, pressing it down onto himself with a sound so depraved your own hands still.
Rin is addictive to watch like this, whining with each achingly slow movement that engulfs his cock in tightness that feels vaguely like you—it's not nearly as warm and wet, but the fact that you're sitting there, hundreds of miles away, cooing at him and watching him like that makes up for it.
You can't look away, lips falling open as your chest heaves, watching the way he slowly starts to devolve into messy thrusts and babbled strings of your name.
"Oh fuck, Rin."
His eyes blink open, hooded and glassy. "Miss you, baby," his hand twists and you can hear how wet the fleshlight is, squelching with the amount of pre he's leaking, "fuck—miss you so much." Your own fingers have resumed their movements, drawing tight circles across your clit until your chest goes so tight it seems hard to breath.
"Rin," you whine again, and he knows that sounds, knows it means you're close, and that information alone is the final straw, heat snapping low in his belly and crawling up his spine as he thrusts into the silicone in his hand once, twice, and once more before he's filling it with so much cum that it starts leaking out around his cock. Through it all, he keeps his eyes on you, though they're so lidded he's barely managing to keep them open.
The way your teeth dig hard into your bottom lip makes him want to reach out and pull it free, and he's hit with a pang of longing. Your sharp intake of breath before you finally tip over has him leaning further towards the screen of his phone, wanting to take you in as much as he possibly can, watching the way your cunt flutters beneath the movement of your fingers. You're so beautiful, and he tells you as much, sees the way your cheeks flush as your breaths evens out.
Once you're both melting into your respective headboards, he finally sits up and grabs his phone, scooting off the edge of the bed to pad over to his bathroom, flipping on the shower while he props his phone up on the sink. "C'mon pretty girl," he tells you gently, "let's shower so we can go to bed."
You groan playfully at his instruction, your whole body feeling warm and sated, before picking yourself up out of bed to follow his lead, your physical distance temporarily remedied by the way you go through your routines together before falling asleep, phones tucked close against your pillows.
