Get Off My Foot - Tanaka x fem!reader
the smallest, slightly spicy Tanaka self-indulgent drabble. word count: 600~ Almost spicy, just a toe suck to a grind and ending before they either fuck or fight, it’s up to you ;)
It’s long overdue, this jiu-jitsu match between you and Ryu. You’re squirming around, both in an ankle lock that you’ve recently been going over and over in your practises. It was a sweep gone wrong, and he reacted a lot faster than you thought he would, thanks to his volleyball training coupled with your love for the martial arts that he took up to spar with you.
You have the top of his foot sandwiched between your ribs and bicep, leaning back as the bottom of your forearm presses against his ankle to pop it up. He winces, hands releasing you to slap the tatami mats fervently.
“Fuck! Get off my foot!” he yells, and you release instantly, grinning widely at his tap out. Your legs are still wrapped around each other, his gi jacket open and untucked from his blue belt to display clean cut abs with a sheen of sweat. Your eyes drink in the view of his skin, his panting chest, and you feel your cells vibrate with the endorphins from the sparring match.
“Sorry baby, did I hurt you?” you sing, scooting backwards, your legs falling from his waist to the floor. You grab his foot on your right, massaging the sensitive spots on his sole. He groans, falling onto his elbows as he drinks in the sight of you rubbing his foot. You dig your fingers in harshly so as not to tickle him, running it up the flesh from the ankle to the joint of his toes.
“Nah, beautiful,” he huffs, eyeing your fingers curiously, knowingly. He brings his leg closer to your body so that it rests in your lap as you massage, your fingers kneading in between his toes and beginning to run up the tight muscles of his achilles tendon and calf beneath his gi pants.
“Good, I wouldn’t want to injure this beautiful foot of yours,” you whisper, bringing the body part up to your lips to land a chaste kiss on his big toe. Ryunosuke chuckles, wiggling it against your lips, and you give him a playful nibble in return.
“Careful, babe, or I think we might have to go another round,” he warns unconvincingly, his jacket already off his one shoulder from the tumble you had just finished together. You shrug, keeping eye contact as you bring his foot once more to your lips, wrapping them around his big toe to suck.
You feel how the texture rubs against your tongue, sending tiny shocks down your throat. You taste the salt of his sweat, not unpleasant or overpowering. It’s one of the things about Tanaka that you love; the man has impeccable hygiene. His eyes roll back at the sensation and he moans. You pull away from his toe with a pop, scanning over his neatly cut nails, clean, he keeps his feet in top shape for volleyball. You flex it to kiss the ball of his foot, nibbling at the flesh there.
Ryu pushes up to his hands, leaning forward to grab you, foot dropping down as he crosses his legs. You clamber onto his lap, straddling him so that your groins are against each other, chests an inch apart and mouths breathing heavily.
“You wouldn’t last another round, handsome,” you whisper, lips brushing his with each pronunciation, circling your hips in the slightest to grind down.
You can smell the aftershave that he pats onto the back of his head, mingling with the musk of his sweat, and your eyes lock together. There’s a crackle in the static that built up during the fight, the air charged with electricity. His eyes drop to your lips, closing slightly and as he leans in for a taste.
