Thinking about, Sakusa as a sneaky little pervert. Because of course, he was the weird, silent classmate who was always watching you.
Your first ever encounter with him was disastrous.
Running around the empty halls, trying to get to class was a bad a idea, but even more was turning around abruptly, spilling your overpriced starbucks drink into your classmate impolute white shirt.
Your hands trembled in his chest, trying to clean up everything with paper towel was futile, only worsening the stain more and more. You stumbled around with your words, asking for forgiveness and bowing repeatedly. You were expecting screams, insults, everything except what actually happened.
— Move.
That was the first and only word Sakusa spoke to you. His black eyes pierced through your teary ones. The boy could see the mechanisms in your head working around and failing miserably to come up with something. Your poor heart was shattered, after all, Kiyoomi was your secret little crush.
Every time he would sit besides you in class, your eyes would nervously fall into your lap, your hands would toy with the end of your skirts as a way to evade the strong gaze of the volleyball player.
You messed up hard, you thought.
Sakusa tooked the empty cup from the floor and handed it back to you into a paper towel. Then, he shortly left the hall, walking straight to the bathroom with his splattered clothes. Once he arrived, he maked sure the room was empty. He closed the door and changed his shirt for the extra gym tee he had in his bag.
Kiyoomi sighed.
Your teary eyes and trembling form was cute. Pathetic, but cute nonetheless. It was like you thought everything that happened was all your fault, but in reality it was partially his.
If he had not been too dumbfounded gawking your ass as you walked around, maybe he could even prevet all the mess in his new plain shirt.
You hate him, he thought.
You somehow realized how his gaze fell to your boobs every time you jump around the classrooms, how he ogled at your plump thighs whenever you wore skirts. Or worse, how he memorized your train stops and favorite cafes...
Yeah, you surely realized that he stalked your instagram page every night, jacking off to your bikini pics and skimpy outfits.
At first he thought you somehow reciprocated his feelings, but after a while, you began dragging down your pieces of clothing, closing your legs so he couldn't take a peek of your cute underwear.
Every time his friends would bring your name into a conversation, he tried to play cool, but of course, some of them have already realized his strange infatuation with you...
After all, you were the sweet little treasure Kiyoomi kept to himself.
A few days had pass since the incident.
You were now rushing into the train station, running through the stairs to get to the next ride home. As you tried to squeeze between all the people in line, you completely stopped in your tracks as you saw a familiar figure resting at the doors.
Kiyoomi was angrily leading into the glass, his pretty face covered in a black surgical mask.
You thought to yourself: Should you take the ride? Could you bear all the embarrassment? The doors opened, people went in and out, but you were there. Standing.
As the doors were about to close, Sakusa handed out his arm, grabbing your own with enough force to drag you into the train. You stomped face first into the boys chest.
The people in the train were moving, everyone was too overwhelmed with the lack of air and space. You could even fell the boy's rapid heartbeat as you leaned onto him. You nervously looked up, and Sakusa's legs wavered seeing you in such position: Looking up to him, with your pretty doe eyes and red cheeks. You looked helpless.
— Sorry.- You said as you tried to turn around, seeing him clearly uncomfortable with the closeness. Sakusa opened his eyes, alarmed.
In your sweet, empty mind, giving him your back, was far better than seeing his black eyes piercing down your skull, of course! But now, your ass was fully against his crotch and Kiyoomi's thoughts were racing uncontrollably. He could sense the warm your body emited, the way your breath hitched once you realized the compromising position.
Kiyoomi sighed, trying to calm down.
Of course something like this could happened to him. His sweet little crush was with her ass pressed against his cock, with her skirt all riled up and legs trembling.
— Sorry.- You repeated nervously. The boy ducked his neck down, murmuring into your ear.
— That's everything you say? Sorry?- Your cheeks flushed in the darkest shade of red. How dumb could you be? Of course he hated you! You ruined his shirt a few days ago, and now, you were invading his personal space. You were probably Sakusa's least favorite person to be squeezed in a crowded train right now.
— I'm sorry.- Sakusa frowned, obviously frustrated at your attitude. You were truly the dumbest girl out there. Your voice was sounding like you were about to cry at any moment.
Suddenly, someone pushed him from behind, making him cage your body even more than before. Conveniently, his hands gripped into your hips for support, because of course, Kiyoomi would use a situation like this in his favor!
It was, brief, almost silent, but he heard the prettiest little whine coming from you, and as the sneaky pervert he was, his cock began straining into his pants. Closing his eyes, he tried and tried to not act like the pervert he was.
— Excuse me.
— I- It's okay. I'm the one pressing into you after all, haha.
Were you that dumb? His hard cock was resting against the curve of your ass and his hands were squeezing your hips with enough force to leave bruises. How that could be your fault?
The doors flung wide open and some people left the train to welcome even more. Time passed and Kiyoomi's position didn't budge, if not, it only became worse.
One of his hands carefully lowered to your butt, excusing himself with something along the lines of "I can't move" He used the closeness in his favor, touching your ass and thighs while your breath hitched in your throat and your cheeks burned. You couldn't process what was actually happening, at first you were embarrassed to share such a situation with him, but deep down, you knew how much you were enjoying it.
— You good?- Kiyoomi knew the question was dumb. Your trembling thighs and rapid breathing were saying everything he needed to know.
Suddenly, he stopped.
He had enough fun, he told himself. Because if he tried to test his luck even further, you could possibly get mad and start yelling at him. But surprisingly, you began to move your ass slowly in his crotch, excusing yourself, trying to say that it was all an accident.
You thought you were sly with it, but Sakusa knew best.
He laughed, seeing how his long time crush was a pervert herself. You were actually enjoying it! Getting groped in a crowded train, with all the people there possibly watching... Disgusting! Truly disgusting!
Kiyoomi lowered his hand once again, caressing your inner thighs with his fingers and finally, finally touching your entrance through your underwear.
— Oh, this is your stop.- He quickly said as the doors opened, regaining his senses and distancing himself from you.
Oh, he messed up.
How could he know that this was your stop? You never mentioned it to him before, not even once.
Sakusa nervously looked at you, expecting a dumbfounded gaze, or at least a question, but he was surprised with not only a flustered expression but with a relaxing fact: You didn't even notice it.
Nodding shyly, you tried to left the train as the black haired boy lowered the back of your skirt.
You left the station dissapointed, with sticky thighs and wet underwear.
Thinking about BestFriend!Matsukawa, who enjoys making you nervous.
The man simply loved touching you whenever you were distracted, he loved to make stupidly flirtatious remarks, play with your hair, your lips...
Matsukawa loved doing that.
Stroke your cheeks and putting his fingers into your mouth was just so fun. The little "Mattsun!" and "Too much!" you let out would go straight to his cock. Ah, your pretty eyes would became teary if he applied too much pressure too. Your hands would try to grab his own, fighting and laughing.
That was Issei's favorite view.
At night, he fantasized with your pretty face in between his legs, trying to take his cock between your mouth, but shamefully failing in the attempt.
But don't worry! Matsukawa wouldn't judge you! He would laugh, yes, but he would try to cheer you up.
— Too dumb to even take cock, uh? Didn't your boyfriend teach you how to?
And that's when his fantasy would ended up mixing with the crushing reality. Because yes, you did have a boyfriend, and a loving one too.
Issei hated the idea of you being with another man.
You were supposed to be his. His pretty girlfriend, his pretty doll. Just his.
But atleast the dislike went both ways.
Your precious boyfriend would intentionally make out with you in front of Matsukawa, trying to rile him up, and succeeding.
Every time your boyfriend putted in words his discontent about your disgusting best friend behavior, you only dismissed it, saying something along the lines of "Its just the way he is! He is like this with everyone!"
But no. It wasn't like that. And you knowed that.
Why would you even lie to yourself like that?
The relationship was... strange. To say the least.
The intimate touches, the sweet words in your ear, even the flirtatious photos he sent you.
Something was inherently wrong. You didn't want to cheat. It was horrible behavior. But no matter how much you tried to hide it, in your loneliest nights, when your boyfriend wasn't around, your body would yearn for the touch of one man, and one man only.
Enemies, Sadist!Atsumu, MasochistReader, Fingering, Exhibitionism, They get caught LOL, Explicit, Smut.
The corridors were always colder near the Slytherin dungeons. Atsumu hated having to go through the spooky aisles: he felt that the paintings were judging him, that the stairs intentionally changed every time he tried to climb them.
The Gryffindor boy wasn't happy, and it showed. Stiff as a wooden plate, he waited for his twin brother to come out of his dormitory, when suddenly, he heard a voice coming from behind his back.
— I didn't know they let trolls get into Hogwarts.- He turned around and laughed sarcastically.
— Something very daring coming from a domestic goblin to speak to his master like that.- You huffed, ready to fight back. The tall boy ogled you. You were a pretty girl, and a smart one too. Your house was proud about how many points you were bringing, the professors always complimented you… It was really a shame that you were a Slytherin, always making snarky remarks and comments, denying all his efforts to befriend you… They were all justified though. He made your potions classes and quidditch matches a living hell. Always pestering you, calling you dumb pet names and touching your hair and waist, saying how much of a perfect couple the two of you would make. It made your head (and heart) throb.
Before you could answer, a figure came out of the Slytherin portrait. It was Osamu Miya, looking rather tired.
—Hey sorry for making you wait. Do you have the thing?- Atsumu handed his brother a little yellowish box and smiled, murmuring something you didn't get.– Oh hi Y/N. Didn't see you right there. Wanna come in?- You nodded and carefully entered the portrait, but not without leaving Atsumu with the last word (or at least you tried to)
—See you in the pitch. We are going to win this game, 150 - 0.
—Okay doll! Look around for the bludgers! You never know when one of them could hit you,- Finished Atsumu in a high pitched voice, laughing.
[…]
Fuming.
Atsumu was fuming.
Stomping through the pitch back to his dormitory he murmured insults to himself. How could he possibly loose the snitch on the last minute?! He was just centimeters away from catching it! But no, your dumb player had the audacity to jump up in the air and make a stupid move, stealing his opportunity to win the game.
He was so mad.
When he entered the main hall and a few Slytherins laughed. A familiar one stepped right beside him, grabbing his arm.
—Hi Tsumu!- You chirped. Your hair was unusually messy, a prove of how much you jumped around in the middle of the match. The boy started walking faster, but you kept up the pace.
—What happened Tsumu? Did the small kitty cat with a lion complex— Suddenly, he made a hard turn (interrupting what you were about to say) grabbing your waist and pushing you to the nearest wall, taking you completely by surprise.
—I'm so fucking mad right now, I don't need your stupid shit.- You looked up to him in awe. The size difference between the two was obvious, and his hands on your waist were firm. You opened your mouth to protest, but Atsumu was quick, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers.— Shshshh.- He hushed you.- You are always saying dumb shit. You are always saying how smart you are… Do you wanna know what I think? I think you are pretty girl with an attitude problem.- He began to squeeze your cheeks harder and harder, making your mouth form a pout. Your eyes were tearing and your legs trembling. What was happening to you? Atsumu wasn't oblivious to this. He laughed and got near your right ear.– Don't tell me you like this... Are you some type of masochist? Don't get me wrong, I like that. See? I always said we were a perfect match.- He made you open your mouth.– If you say something dumb I'm either shutting you up with my fingers or with my cock.
—How could you loose that opportunity to— Truth to his word, the Gryffindor boy stuffed your mouth with his fingers, making you gag in response.– You are so pretty like this. Why are you always mouthing something dumb? Aren't you a good girl?- The boy squeezed your waist harder, getting closer to you.
He let go the hand on your cheeks to immediately kiss you. His kiss was desperate. As if it contained all his anger and frustration. His tongue caressed yours with an impressive hunger, your already trembling legs were starting to get wet.
Atsumu broke away from the kiss and looked right into your eyes.
—You good? Its the first time I see you being so quiet.
—Fuck you, Atsumu.
—Yeah, I'm trying.
He started kissing you again and again. Droll was dripping down your chin. It was so messy, so filthy.
Atsumu grabbed one of your legs, caressing your inner thigh and making all the way up into your skirt. He had a moment of doubt, but when you grabbed his hand to make him touch your panties, it served him as enough confirmation to go on. The Gryffindor boy started touching you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his fingers. You moaned frustrated when he played with the elastic of the pink garment but didn't start anything. He laughed in between the kiss.
—Tsumu, please.- You plead. The boy nodded and moved your panties aside, finally touching your clit and massaging it. Your high pitched moans increased, even if you tried really hard to suppress them. But Atsumu was making it hard. Suddenly, a long finger entered you. Your juices rapidly coated it, making you a little embarrassed. One finger turned into two, and then three. His free hand find the way into your shirt, squeezing your left breast and pinching your nipple with his cold and calloused fingers.
As the boy finger-fucked you, murmurs were heard in the distance. You got scared, breaking away from the kiss.
—Atsumu someone is coming.- The boy looked at you with a serious expression and moved his head in disagreement. He kept kissing you.
You let yourself get carried away in the heat of the moment, reciprocating the kiss, but still, you were trying to listen to your surroundings, but the only sound you heard was the squelching sounds coming from your pussy and Atsumus fingers. Your moans were getting louder, it was really hard to keep kissing him. You were so so close to cumming, your eyes were filled with tears mere seconds away from your release.
—DID YOU SEE THAT CATCH? IT WAS AMAZING! Slytherin in Quidditch is the BEST!
—That stupid Gryffindor lost the snitch in the last second.
Your heart stopped.
—Tsumu.- You looked into Atsumus eyes, fear crept into your face. The voices were so close where you two were.- Atsumu please.- You cried out, trying to getaway from the boy, but he didn't budge, he kept fingering your pussy and massaging your breasts, he even picked up the pace of his fingers for the new found incentive.
You tried and tried to separate from Atsumu, crying out his name, but the boy was so much stronger than you. He was practically manhandling your body into keeping that position.
Then you saw it, a few meters away. Someone with curly black hair and a Ravenclaw tunic. He crossed glances with your teary eyes and choked in shock.
You didn't know why, but you cummed, nice and hard.
Your vision became blurry. Maybe it was because of the tears in your eyes, or maybe for the mind-blowing orgasm you just had, but you couldn't connect a single thought. As you cummed and spasm around Atsumus fingers, the blonde Gryffindor smiled happily, giving you a pat on your head.
HAIKYUU HOGWARTS AU! +18 (M.Osamu x F!Reader)
BratTamer!Osamu, Bratty!Reader, Spanking, Nipple play, Fingering, Clit Slaps, Blow Job, Unprotected sex. Hints of jealous and protective Osamu.
Osamu is feeling like everything in his life is going wrong, so he asks his brother a little bottle of liquid luck, felix felicis.
Miya Osamu was well aware that his luck had been running rather low lately.
His books had disappear.
His broom had gone insane.
A bludger hitted him in the stomach.
He didn't know what he had done to deserve all of this... maybe he got out on the wrong side of the bed, or someone may have cursed him, but what he did know in fact, was that he needed to get his luck back, and quickly.
In five days, his house was going to play against the regent three year champions of the quidditch cup, Gryffindor.
Slytherin needed to win this year competition no matter what, their honor was at stake.
Osamu was day and night analyzing his strategies, weaknesses and good sides. He had come to a simple conclusion: They needed to beware of the lions most dangerous player, their seeker.
His most talented opponent was his own brother. Miya Atsumu.
Osamu was unusually nervous. He wasn't like this on a daily basis, but with his current luck, surely the bludgers would plot something against him.
While Osamu was daydreaming in the couch of the common room, a girl entered trough the Slytherin portrait. When she realized the dazed state of the boy, she approached silently from behind, covering his eyes with her hands once she was close enough.
— Guess who?- She asked in a funny voice.
— Oh, it's you.
You smiled and sited right beside him.
— Whats with the long face?- Osamu looked at you with tedious eyes. He then proceeded to tell you everything about what was happening to him.- Yeah maybe you need to find a four leaf clover or something like that.- You joked. But Osamu didn't laugh. "Thats it!" He thought to himself
— If i don't have luck, i need to make my own.- He murmured. After that, Osamu left the common room without saying anything else.
— Good luck Samu!
[...]
Osamu went straight to the library to find what he was looking for: His roommate, Oikawa Tooru.
The dark haired boy was the only person who would help him with this kind of thing, because Osamu wasn't sure of what he exactly needed, but Oikawa would surely know.
— Oikawa!- He yelled in a whisper, bewaring of the old creepy librarian.
Osamu stopped in his tracks, next to him was Toorus girlfriend: A Ravenclaw girl who was too immersed studying to play attention to him. Her head was down with her hair hiding her (probably serious) expression.
Would she snitch on him if she heard something? Would she get him in trouble? As his mind raced in thoughts, he heard a very silent snoring: It came directly from her. She was asleep. In the library.
Oikawa patted the chair beside him, inviting his friend to take a sit.
— Is something wrong?- Asked the brown haired boy. Osamu proceeded to tell him everything he was going through. At The end, he asked Oikawa if there was anything that could bring him luck, or at least, something to recover the luck he already had.- Mmmm. Maybe a little bit of Felix Felicis could help. But it's very difficult to make, so you can't ask a normal student for it, let alone a teacher...
But Osamu knowed exactly who could help him. He thanked Oikawa and went straight to Gryffindors dorm. A few minutes later, the blond twin peeked through the Fat Lady portrait, making sure his brother was there.
— I received your message, I can get the potion with one of my friends, but you would have to wait, at least two days.- Osamu nodded and said:
— Ok, i will wait.
[...]
Two days later, his brother went to the Slytherin chambers with a little wooden box. Those two days were Osamu longest days in his life.
His socks had dissapear.
He failed herbology class.
Osamu was so excited, he hurriedly went to his dormitory again to open up the box. The package was cute, it had a yellowish color and a few words written all over it. A message could be read, courtesy of Atsumu.
"you can drink it in one go or save some for the match, good luck (:"
Osamu thought to himself. The best thing to do would be to take little by little every day, so he pulled out the little vial and taked a sip. He waited a few seconds to the potion to make something, but he was disappointed when he noticed that he didn't feel any different from before.
He putted the box under his pillow and went out to the common room. There he saw how you and your best friend played magical chess, and strangely enough, Osamu sat next to you.
— Do you want to go for a walk around the school?- he whispered in your ear, taking you by surprise.
— Y-Yes! Of course. Tsukishima!- you shouted across the room.- Come play against Atsumu's new girlfriend.
— I'm not his girlfriend! - the girl said while blushing.
As you both left the common room, you began to talk fluently. You two have always gotten along, not exactly friends, but rather good classmates or even teammates, but one thing was clear: both felt some kind of tension whenever you two were left alone.
Osamu felt unusually light, changing the conversation from topic to topic and overall going with the flow. Maybe the potion had finally worked?
Without noticing, both reached a dead end.
When you turned around, ready to leave, Osamu tooked your hand, waiting for something. He didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but out of nowhere, a door popped out of the wall.
Surprised, both passed through it. It was a room you had never seen before. It looked like the Slytherin common room, but with a double bed in the middle.
You both heard whispers nearby, so you rushed into the room and closed the door behind you. Osamu began to look around, touching and watching everything. Once he was too bored to continue, he threw himself into the bed and sighed tiredly. Moments later you imitated him, smiling.
After a few comfortable seconds of silence, Osamu took your hands in his own, and timidly began to play with your fingers.
— Samu...- You whispered.
— I really like you.- Your cheeks turned bright red at the sudden confession. Your mind going blank for a few seconds.- I-i don't know why i'm saying you all this, but i just needed to say you that.- Osamus voice was waivering, almost as if he was loosing his strength.- Maybe the potion?
— Its okay, Samu. I, I really like you too.
Osamu looked at you straight in the eyes as he timidly caressed your cheeks.
— Can i?- He asked quietly. You nodded, and moments later, he began to kiss you. His lips were soft and his hands rough, a really nice contrast that went well representing Osamus personality and actions.
Both let yourselves go for what seemed like hours. Without noticing, you ended up sitting on his lap, with Osamu's hands under your skirt squeezing your ass. You were ready to take the next step, but Osamu had other plans.
— We should go back.- He said breaking away from the kiss.
—Don't wanna.- You murmured approaching his lips yet again.
—Do you think I want to do it?- Said the boy frustrated. His dick was hard against his trousers, poking your entrance through the layers of clothing.- We need to go back. We will continue this later.
[...]
Osamu had the last bit of potion left in his hands.
He had save it for the Quidditch match against his brother. So when the day came, while all the houses were eating breakfast and talking, he poured the remains of the potion into his cup of coffee.
—Samu!- Shouted his brother, calling him to come over to his table. Osamu walked to the Gryffindors section and smiled to his brother teammates, wishing them good luck and making a little bit of small talk.
When Osamu returned to his seat, he saw you. He smiled and playfully patted your head as he tooked his place besides you. He threaten to kiss you, but he waited for you to finish your cup of coffee.
Cup of coffee?
Osamu widened his eyes in pure shock.
The coffee you were drinking was his, the one that contained the remains of the potion.
— Shit! No! Did you drank it all?
— Mmm? Yes. What happened? I can serve you another cup if you want it that bad.
— No you don't understand! Do you feel weird? Do you feel different?
— Naw I'm good Samu. We should hurry up, we need to win this game. And I promise you, I'm gonna catch the snitch before your idiot brother!
Osamu wanted to die.
It wasn't your fault that you drank the coffee that contained the last drop of Felix Felicis, it was his.
His bad luck had comeback.
[...]
The match was in a constant draw.
Osamu was doing his best trying to keep you safe of the bludgers and the Gryffindors attackers, but he was still worried of the potion side effects.
Nausea? Headaches? What would happen to you?
In just a second, Osamu lost you out of his sight.
You were now floating higher and higher than everybody else. Atsumu was right below you following the snitch. When suddenly, you jumped in the air, falling onto Atsumus broom and catching the snitch in the process. The crowd gasped in surprise. All the Slytherins shouted from the stands, yelling your name and jersey number.
Atsumu landed both of you safely in the ground, asking you if you were okay, but immediately after your answer he stomped out of the pitch. Murmuring insults to himself.
Everyone was happy, everyone excepted Osamu. What crossed through your mind?! Were you insane?!
As the Slytherins cheered you, Osamu followed the team from behind. Furious.
The tradition dictated that after winning an important quidditch match, all the slytherin team needed to go to the prefects bathroom to celebrate the win. They usually went without clothes, but this time, all the boys were wearing their bathing suits, due to the female presence of this year.
Osamu was in a bad mood. He didn't want to be there. But when he thought about you being in a tub surrounded by half naked men, he decided that he needed to go.
Your teammates jumped into the hot water, celebrating with butter beer and candy, but Osamu waited until you finished changing.
While leaving the cubicle, everyone saw you happily enter the bathtub. You were wearing a little bathing suit that complemented your skin color a little too well. They were all stunned for a few seconds, but upon hearing Osamu scratch his throat, everyone began to ignore you, or at least ignore your boobs.
Osamu approached you from behind silently, holding your waist with his strong hands while whispering in your ear:
— You are going to say that you feel bad, and we will leave this party.
— But Samuuu.- you whined. He looked at you with a serious expression, waiting.
You got out from the tub, excusing yourself with a silly lie with Osamu behind your back.
And there he saw it: a big purple bruise was starting to form in your ass. He blinked a few times, processing it. What's that from falling onto Atsumus broom? Was that from another guy?
As both of you dried yourselves up, and put some clothes on, Osamu grabbed your hand and started dragging you into the same corridors the magic door appeared the last time.
— I'm going to cure your bruise with magic.- Said Osamu in a low voice. He was absolutely fuming, not only did you drink his potion, you also putted yourself in danger.- Go and wait by the bed.- Silence overtook the cozy place, the only thing that could be heard was the soft crackling of the fire place.- Look, I'm pissed about what you did in the pitch. Yes, we won the game, yes, the potion helped you, but you saw what happened at the last minute. The effects runned out and you fell really hard onto Atsumus broom.
— Yeah.
Osamu sighed, trying to relax himself.
— Now, now. Lift your skirt, I'm going to heal you.
— You just want to see me naked.- He blinked a few times. Were you always this irritating? You were testing his patience a lot today.
He crouched down besides your legs. The position was, intimate but it was the only way he could possibly make the spell correctly.
—Now.
—Okay.- you lifted your skirt, instantly smiling when Osamu chocked in his own spit.- I was going to say you that i didn't have any panties on, but i guess that's what you wanted the whole time.- Osamu closed his eyes. The sight was... seductive, but in the end, you were making fun of him. Thats how you wanted things to be? Okay, he would play along, and nicely.
He grabbed your ass with his left hand and smiled as you hissed down his touch. He putted a little bit of pressure to the bruised area and said:
—Pass me my wand, I'm gonna cure this bruise, but I'm gonna leave my hand prints here if you don't behave. M'kay?
—Okay.
— Episkey.- The boy murmured while watching the bruise on your ass disappear.
As you turned around, he saw your juices dripping down your thighs. You laughed, trying to play confident, bringing one of your hands to your entrance, and opening it up to show him your gaping hole. Osamus mind exploded. Were you always this dumb?
He standed up, his dick hardening in his pants. You gulped, suddenly feeling nervous. Closing the distance between both of you, Osamu grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you wince in pain. He laughed at you for a brief moment.
— Can I?- He asked. You nodded, agreeing at what you thought was obvious. In contrast with his sweet words, his tongue was practically forcing its way into your mouth. Saliva dripped down your chin and your breath was stuck in your nose. The kiss was too overwhelming.
Was Osamu still mad? You tried to test that, biting his lip with such force that it made him bled. He opened his eyes, astonished.
— You should have listened darling.- The boy threw you onto the bed, cleaning his mouth as you falled comfortably on the white sheets. He was just so hot: his hair was disheveled, his lips swollen, everything about him was amazing.
— How are you going to teach me? Spanking me?
— Yeah, exactly.
You had seen Osamu make many expressions, but none of them were like this. His eyes were clouded with lust, but still piercing enough to make you nervous. The boy approached your figure once more, grabbing you strongly by the jaw and ordering you not to bite. You nodded, feeling small next to him.
Both began to kiss again, continuing with the intensity of the first kiss. Osamu released your jaw and proceeded to lower his hands over your bust, squeezing your breasts roughly. He began to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, but with how impatient you were for him to fuck you, you taked the shirt off for yourself.
Osamu spent some time playing with your now exposed breasts, biting your nipples and kneading them with his strong hands. Oh how much of a mess had you become. Breathy moans and swollen lips suit you really well. You tried to strip him from his clothes, but Osamu declined.
—Naw, I'm fucking you like this.
—Please Samu. Its not fair that I'm the only one nude here.
— Well its not fair that you drank my potion, so hurry up and get on your knees.- You complained, but still followed his orders. Palming his dick through his trousers you began to tease him a little bit, undoing his black belt and buttons, but taking your sweet, sweet time.
Osamu was growing impatient, so he himself bringed down his underwear, making his dick jump right in front of your face.
You let out a surprised squeal. You doubted that all of that could fit in your mouth, but you were decided to make him curl his toes and moan for you, so you started licking his tip with little kitten licks, savoring the taste of his precum and sucking his balls, but without taking him completely in your mouth. Osamu sighed, pushing his shaft into you.
— Stop that of you want to cum tonight.
You started bobbing your head up and down, trying to take all of his length but it was impossible. Your eyes became teary and you legs a trembling mess, you wanted him to fuck you so, so bad.
— Enough.- said the boy, making you stand up. He manhandled your body so you were lying down over his strong legs. Osamu began stroking your ass, playing with the fat of your thighs and the hem of your skirt. He smiled to himself, would you get mad if he..? Then with a sharp hit, he slapped you. With a loud moan, you squirmed in his lap. Your skin was stinging, but surprisingly, you didn't dislike that. What you did dislike, was the fact that Osamu was laughing at you. He gently caressed the reddened area, asking you if you were okay continuing. You nodded, but the boy wasn't happy about it.
— Use your words. Don't be dumb.
— Yes, I want to continue Samu.
— Perfect.- The boy continued the cycle a few more times: First spanking and then stroking the area.
— See? I told you I was going to teach you a lesson. If I tell you to open your mouth you oblige. If I tell you to scream my name, you do it, it's simple.- You nodded again and again. Blabbering things Osamu didn't understand.- Is it hard for you? Are you too dumb?- He maneuvered your body so your back was against his chest and started touching your pussy with light feathered touches, as if he was getting revenge for your previous teasing. He played with your swollen clit and hardened nipples, licking and saying sweet things in your ears.
— Please Samu. Fuck me please.
— I'm prepping you doll. Let me finger you a little more and you are ready to go. M'kay?
—No Samu, I'm ready please.- You plead with tears in your eyes. You couldn't endure this for too much time. Osamu sighed, slapping your clit with his left hand. The sudden pain made your body jump forward, moaning at the pleasure. He coated his fingers in your juices, thinking what he was going to do.
He made you go on all fours, positioning his dick into your entrance and slowly entering you. He hissed at how good you feel, stroking your now reddened ass and thighs. Meanwhile, you couldn't form a single thought. The only thing in your mind was how full your pussy felt.
Osamu was telling you something, something you couldn't quite catch on, but he began thrusting into you. His thrusts started nice and slow, letting you adjust to his girth, but as the time passed they became fast and strong, making you loose the balance in your hands, and it consequence, making you fall head first into the bed. Your moans became muffled by the soft pillows, but you could still heard Osamus grunts and moans.
— Such a pretty doll, wish you could be always this good. Apologize for taking the potion and I'm gonna let you cum.- Nothing.- Hey? Are you listening?- He grabbed your hair, making you wince in pain.
— M' sorry Osamu, am sorry.- you cried out.
— Yeah that's what I like to hear.
His trusts became irregular, he could feel the knot in his stomach tightened and his abs tingling, so he reached between your bodies and started playing with your swollen clit. Pinching the little bundle of nerves and slapping it a few times. That was the last push you needed to come. Your vision became full of stars and your pussy clenched around Osamus dick.
— Fuck.- He muttered. He wanted to prolong your orgasm as much as possible, but if you continued to spasm around him like that, he would cum deep into your pussy, so he needed to relax himself.
The thought was exciting, he imagined your little hole full of his cum. Would you get mad? Would you cry even more?
But with one final trust, Osamu pulled away, cumming all over the curve of your ass.
As the boy tried to stabilize his rapid breathing, he saw how much of a mess you had become. Your thighs quivering, his cum dripping down your ass and your pretty pussy glistening with your own juices.
Osamu is feeling like everything in his life is going wrong, so he asks his brother a little bottle of liquid luck, felix felicis.
Miya Osamu was well aware that his luck had been running rather low lately.
His books had disappear.
His broom had gone insane.
A bludger hitted him in the stomach.
He didn't know what he had done to deserve all of this... maybe he got out on the wrong side of the bed, or someone may have cursed him, but what he did know in fact, was that he needed to get his luck back, and quickly.
In five days, his house was going to play against the regent three year champions of the quidditch cup, Gryffindor.
Slytherin needed to win this year competition no matter what, their honor was at stake.
Osamu was day and night analyzing his strategies, weaknesses and good sides. He had come to a simple conclusion: They needed to beware of the lions most dangerous player, their seeker.
His most talented opponent was his own brother. Miya Atsumu.
Osamu was unusually nervous. He wasn't like this on a daily basis, but with his current luck, surely the bludgers would plot something against him.
While Osamu was daydreaming in the couch of the common room, a girl entered trough the Slytherin portrait. When she realized the dazed state of the boy, she approached silently from behind, covering his eyes with her hands once she was close enough.
— Guess who?- She asked in a funny voice.
— Oh, it's you.
You smiled and sited right beside him.
— Whats with the long face?- Osamu looked at you with tedious eyes. He then proceeded to tell you everything about what was happening to him.- Yeah maybe you need to find a four leaf clover or something like that.- You joked. But Osamu didn't laugh. "Thats it!" He thought to himself
— If i don't have luck, i need to make my own.- He murmured. After that, Osamu left the common room without saying anything else.
— Good luck Samu!
[...]
Osamu went straight to the library to find what he was looking for: His roommate, Oikawa Tooru.
The dark haired boy was the only person who would help him with this kind of thing, because Osamu wasn't sure of what he exactly needed, but Oikawa would surely know.
— Oikawa!- He yelled in a whisper, bewaring of the old creepy librarian.
Osamu stopped in his tracks, next to him was Toorus girlfriend: A Ravenclaw girl who was too immersed studying to play attention to him. Her head was down with her hair hiding her (probably serious) expression.
Would she snitch on him if she heard something? Would she get him in trouble? As his mind raced in thoughts, he heard a very silent snoring: It came directly from her. She was asleep. In the library.
Oikawa patted the chair beside him, inviting his friend to take a sit.
— Is something wrong?- Asked the brown haired boy. Osamu proceeded to tell him everything he was going through. At The end, he asked Oikawa if there was anything that could bring him luck, or at least, something to recover the luck he already had.- Mmmm. Maybe a little bit of Felix Felicis could help. But it's very difficult to make, so you can't ask a normal student for it, let alone a teacher...
But Osamu knowed exactly who could help him. He thanked Oikawa and went straight to Gryffindors dorm. A few minutes later, the blond twin peeked through the Fat Lady portrait, making sure his brother was there.
— I received your message, I can get the potion with one of my friends, but you would have to wait, at least two days.- Osamu nodded and said:
— Ok, i will wait.
[...]
Two days later, his brother went to the Slytherin chambers with a little wooden box. Those two days were Osamu longest days in his life.
His socks had dissapear.
He failed herbology class.
Osamu was so excited, he hurriedly went to his dormitory again to open up the box. The package was cute, it had a yellowish color and a few words written all over it. A message could be read, courtesy of Atsumu.
"you can drink it in one go or save some for the match, good luck (:"
Osamu thought to himself. The best thing to do would be to take little by little every day, so he pulled out the little vial and taked a sip. He waited a few seconds to the potion to make something, but he was disappointed when he noticed that he didn't feel any different from before.
He putted the box under his pillow and went out to the common room. There he saw how you and your best friend played magical chess, and strangely enough, Osamu sat next to you.
— Do you want to go for a walk around the school?- he whispered in your ear, taking you by surprise.
— Y-Yes! Of course. Tsukishima!- you shouted across the room.- Come play against Atsumu's new girlfriend.
— I'm not his girlfriend! - the girl said while blushing.
As you both left the common room, you began to talk fluently. You two have always gotten along, not exactly friends, but rather good classmates or even teammates, but one thing was clear: both felt some kind of tension whenever you two were left alone.
Osamu felt unusually light, changing the conversation from topic to topic and overall going with the flow. Maybe the potion had finally worked?
Without noticing, both reached a dead end.
When you turned around, ready to leave, Osamu tooked your hand, waiting for something. He didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but out of nowhere, a door popped out of the wall.
Surprised, both passed through it. It was a room you had never seen before. It looked like the Slytherin common room, but with a double bed in the middle.
You both heard whispers nearby, so you rushed into the room and closed the door behind you. Osamu began to look around, touching and watching everything. Once he was too bored to continue, he threw himself into the bed and sighed tiredly. Moments later you imitated him, smiling.
After a few comfortable seconds of silence, Osamu took your hands in his own, and timidly began to play with your fingers.
— Samu...- You whispered.
— I really like you.- Your cheeks turned bright red at the sudden confession. Your mind going blank for a few seconds.- I-i don't know why i'm saying you all this, but i just needed to say you that.- Osamus voice was waivering, almost as if he was loosing his strength.- Maybe the potion?
— Its okay, Samu. I, I really like you too.
Osamu looked at you straight in the eyes as he timidly caressed your cheeks.
— Can i?- He asked quietly. You nodded, and moments later, he began to kiss you. His lips were soft and his hands rough, a really nice contrast that went well representing Osamus personality and actions.
Both let yourselves go for what seemed like hours. Without noticing, you ended up sitting on his lap, with Osamu's hands under your skirt squeezing your ass. You were ready to take the next step, but Osamu had other plans.
— We should go back.- He said breaking away from the kiss.
—Don't wanna.- You murmured approaching his lips yet again.
—Do you think I want to do it?- Said the boy frustrated. His dick was hard against his trousers, poking your entrance through the layers of clothing.- We need to go back. We will continue this later.
[...]
Osamu had the last bit of potion left in his hands.
He had save it for the Quidditch match against his brother. So when the day came, while all the houses were eating breakfast and talking, he poured the remains of the potion into his cup of coffee.
—Samu!- Shouted his brother, calling him to come over to his table. Osamu walked to the Gryffindors section and smiled to his brother teammates, wishing them good luck and making a little bit of small talk.
When Osamu returned to his seat, he saw you. He smiled and playfully patted your head as he tooked his place besides you. He threaten to kiss you, but he waited for you to finish your cup of coffee.
Cup of coffee?
Osamu widened his eyes in pure shock.
The coffee you were drinking was his, the one that contained the remains of the potion.
— Shit! No! Did you drank it all?
— Mmm? Yes. What happened? I can serve you another cup if you want it that bad.
— No you don't understand! Do you feel weird? Do you feel different?
— Naw I'm good Samu. We should hurry up, we need to win this game. And I promise you, I'm gonna catch the snitch before your idiot brother!
Osamu wanted to die.
It wasn't your fault that you drank the coffee that contained the last drop of Felix Felicis, it was his.
His bad luck had comeback.
[...]
The match was in a constant draw.
Osamu was doing his best trying to keep you safe of the bludgers and the Gryffindors attackers, but he was still worried of the potion side effects.
Nausea? Headaches? What would happen to you?
In just a second, Osamu lost you out of his sight.
You were now floating higher and higher than everybody else. Atsumu was right below you following the snitch. When suddenly, you jumped in the air, falling onto Atsumus broom and catching the snitch in the process. The crowd gasped in surprise. All the Slytherins shouted from the stands, yelling your name and jersey number.
Atsumu landed both of you safely in the ground, asking you if you were okay, but immediately after your answer he stomped out of the pitch. Murmuring insults to himself.
Everyone was happy, everyone excepted Osamu. What crossed through your mind?! Were you insane?!
As the Slytherins cheered you, Osamu followed the team from behind. Furious.
The tradition dictated that after winning an important quidditch match, all the slytherin team needed to go to the prefects bathroom to celebrate the win. They usually went without clothes, but this time, all the boys were wearing their bathing suits, due to the female presence of this year.
Osamu was in a bad mood. He didn't want to be there. But when he thought about you being in a tub surrounded by half naked men, he decided that he needed to go.
Your teammates jumped into the hot water, celebrating with butter beer and candy, but Osamu waited until you finished changing.
While leaving the cubicle, everyone saw you happily enter the bathtub. You were wearing a little bathing suit that complemented your skin color a little too well. They were all stunned for a few seconds, but upon hearing Osamu scratch his throat, everyone began to ignore you, or at least ignore your boobs.
Osamu approached you from behind silently, holding your waist with his strong hands while whispering in your ear:
— You are going to say that you feel bad, and we will leave this party.
— But Samuuu.- you whined. He looked at you with a serious expression, waiting.
You got out from the tub, excusing yourself with a silly lie with Osamu behind your back.
And there he saw it: a big purple bruise was starting to form in your ass. He blinked a few times, processing it. What's that from falling onto Atsumus broom? Was that from another guy?
As both of you dried yourselves up, and put some clothes on, Osamu grabbed your hand and started dragging you into the same corridors the magic door appeared the last time.
— I'm going to cure your bruise with magic.- Said Osamu in a low voice. He was absolutely fuming, not only did you drink his potion, you also putted yourself in danger.- Go and wait by the bed.- Silence overtook the cozy place, the only thing that could be heard was the soft crackling of the fire place.- Look, I'm pissed about what you did in the pitch. Yes, we won the game, yes, the potion helped you, but you saw what happened at the last minute. The effects runned out and you fell really hard onto Atsumus broom.
— Yeah.
Osamu sighed, trying to relax himself.
— Now, now. Lift your skirt, I'm going to heal you.
— You just want to see me naked.- He blinked a few times. Were you always this irritating? You were testing his patience a lot today.
He crouched down besides your legs. The position was, intimate but it was the only way he could possibly make the spell correctly.
—Now.
—Okay.- you lifted your skirt, instantly smiling when Osamu chocked in his own spit.- I was going to say you that i didn't have any panties on, but i guess that's what you wanted the whole time.- Osamu closed his eyes. The sight was... seductive, but in the end, you were making fun of him. Thats how you wanted things to be? Okay, he would play along, and nicely.
He grabbed your ass with his left hand and smiled as you hissed down his touch. He putted a little bit of pressure to the bruised area and said:
—Pass me my wand, I'm gonna cure this bruise, but I'm gonna leave my hand prints here if you don't behave. M'kay?
—Okay.
— Episkey.- The boy murmured while watching the bruise on your ass disappear.
As you turned around, he saw your juices dripping down your thighs. You laughed, trying to play confident, bringing one of your hands to your entrance, and opening it up to show him your gaping hole. Osamus mind exploded. Were you always this dumb?
He standed up, his dick hardening in his pants. You gulped, suddenly feeling nervous. Closing the distance between both of you, Osamu grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you wince in pain. He laughed at you for a brief moment.
— Can I?- He asked. You nodded, agreeing at what you thought was obvious. In contrast with his sweet words, his tongue was practically forcing its way into your mouth. Saliva dripped down your chin and your breath was stuck in your nose. The kiss was too overwhelming.
Was Osamu still mad? You tried to test that, biting his lip with such force that it made him bled. He opened his eyes, astonished.
— You should have listened darling.- The boy threw you onto the bed, cleaning his mouth as you falled comfortably on the white sheets. He was just so hot: his hair was disheveled, his lips swollen, everything about him was amazing.
— How are you going to teach me? Spanking me?
— Yeah, exactly.
You had seen Osamu make many expressions, but none of them were like this. His eyes were clouded with lust, but still piercing enough to make you nervous. The boy approached your figure once more, grabbing you strongly by the jaw and ordering you not to bite. You nodded, feeling small next to him.
Both began to kiss again, continuing with the intensity of the first kiss. Osamu released your jaw and proceeded to lower his hands over your bust, squeezing your breasts roughly. He began to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, but with how impatient you were for him to fuck you, you taked the shirt off for yourself.
Osamu spent some time playing with your now exposed breasts, biting your nipples and kneading them with his strong hands. Oh how much of a mess had you become. Breathy moans and swollen lips suit you really well. You tried to strip him from his clothes, but Osamu declined.
—Naw, I'm fucking you like this.
—Please Samu. Its not fair that I'm the only one nude here.
— Well its not fair that you drank my potion, so hurry up and get on your knees.- You complained, but still followed his orders. Palming his dick through his trousers you began to tease him a little bit, undoing his black belt and buttons, but taking your sweet, sweet time.
Osamu was growing impatient, so he himself bringed down his underwear, making his dick jump right in front of your face.
You let out a surprised squeal. You doubted that all of that could fit in your mouth, but you were decided to make him curl his toes and moan for you, so you started licking his tip with little kitten licks, savoring the taste of his precum and sucking his balls, but without taking him completely in your mouth. Osamu sighed, pushing his shaft into you.
— Stop that of you want to cum tonight.
You started bobbing your head up and down, trying to take all of his length but it was impossible. Your eyes became teary and you legs a trembling mess, you wanted him to fuck you so, so bad.
— Enough.- said the boy, making you stand up. He manhandled your body so you were lying down over his strong legs. Osamu began stroking your ass, playing with the fat of your thighs and the hem of your skirt. He smiled to himself, would you get mad if he..? Then with a sharp hit, he slapped you. With a loud moan, you squirmed in his lap. Your skin was stinging, but surprisingly, you didn't dislike that. What you did dislike, was the fact that Osamu was laughing at you. He gently caressed the reddened area, asking you if you were okay continuing. You nodded, but the boy wasn't happy about it.
— Use your words. Don't be dumb.
— Yes, I want to continue Samu.
— Perfect.- The boy continued the cycle a few more times: First spanking and then stroking the area.
— See? I told you I was going to teach you a lesson. If I tell you to open your mouth you oblige. If I tell you to scream my name, you do it, it's simple.- You nodded again and again. Blabbering things Osamu didn't understand.- Is it hard for you? Are you too dumb?- He maneuvered your body so your back was against his chest and started touching your pussy with light feathered touches, as if he was getting revenge for your previous teasing. He played with your swollen clit and hardened nipples, licking and saying sweet things in your ears.
— Please Samu. Fuck me please.
— I'm prepping you doll. Let me finger you a little more and you are ready to go. M'kay?
—No Samu, I'm ready please.- You plead with tears in your eyes. You couldn't endure this for too much time. Osamu sighed, slapping your clit with his left hand. The sudden pain made your body jump forward, moaning at the pleasure. He coated his fingers in your juices, thinking what he was going to do.
He made you go on all fours, positioning his dick into your entrance and slowly entering you. He hissed at how good you feel, stroking your now reddened ass and thighs. Meanwhile, you couldn't form a single thought. The only thing in your mind was how full your pussy felt.
Osamu was telling you something, something you couldn't quite catch on, but he began thrusting into you. His thrusts started nice and slow, letting you adjust to his girth, but as the time passed they became fast and strong, making you loose the balance in your hands, and it consequence, making you fall head first into the bed. Your moans became muffled by the soft pillows, but you could still heard Osamus grunts and moans.
— Such a pretty doll, wish you could be always this good. Apologize for taking the potion and I'm gonna let you cum.- Nothing.- Hey? Are you listening?- He grabbed your hair, making you wince in pain.
— M' sorry Osamu, am sorry.- you cried out.
— Yeah that's what I like to hear.
His trusts became irregular, he could feel the knot in his stomach tightened and his abs tingling, so he reached between your bodies and started playing with your swollen clit. Pinching the little bundle of nerves and slapping it a few times. That was the last push you needed to come. Your vision became full of stars and your pussy clenched around Osamus dick.
— Fuck.- He muttered. He wanted to prolong your orgasm as much as possible, but if you continued to spasm around him like that, he would cum deep into your pussy, so he needed to relax himself.
The thought was exciting, he imagined your little hole full of his cum. Would you get mad? Would you cry even more?
But with one final trust, Osamu pulled away, cumming all over the curve of your ass.
As the boy tried to stabilize his rapid breathing, he saw how much of a mess you had become. Your thighs quivering, his cum dripping down your ass and your pretty pussy glistening with your own juices.
HAIKYUU HOGWARTS AU! (+18)
Enemies, Sadist!Atsumu, MasochistReader, Fingering, Exhibitionism, They get caught LOL, Explicit, Smut.
The corridors were always colder near the Slytherin dungeons. Atsumu hated having to go through the spooky aisles: he felt that the paintings were judging him, that the stairs intentionally changed every time he tried to climb them.
The Gryffindor boy wasn't happy, and it showed. Stiff as a wooden plate, he waited for his twin brother to come out of his dormitory, when suddenly, he heard a voice coming from behind his back.
— I didn't know they let trolls get into Hogwarts.- He turned around and laughed sarcastically.
— Something very daring coming from a domestic goblin to speak to his master like that.- You huffed, ready to fight back. The tall boy ogled you. You were a pretty girl, and a smart one too. Your house was proud about how many points you were bringing, the professors always complimented you… It was really a shame that you were a Slytherin, always making snarky remarks and comments, denying all his efforts to befriend you… They were all justified though. He made your potions classes and quidditch matches a living hell. Always pestering you, calling you dumb pet names and touching your hair and waist, saying how much of a perfect couple the two of you would make. It made your head (and heart) throb.
Before you could answer, a figure came out of the Slytherin portrait. It was Osamu Miya, looking rather tired.
—Hey sorry for making you wait. Do you have the thing?- Atsumu handed his brother a little yellowish box and smiled, murmuring something you didn't get.– Oh hi there. Didn't see you right there. Wanna come in?- You nodded and carefully entered the portrait, but not without leaving Atsumu with the last word (or at least you tried to)
—See you in the pitch. We are going to win this game, 150 - 0.
—Okay doll! Look around for the bludgers! You never know when one of them could hit you,- Finished Atsumu in a high pitched voice, laughing.
[…]
Fuming.
Atsumu was fuming.
Stomping through the pitch back to his dormitory he murmured insults to himself. How could he possibly loose the snitch on the last minute?! He was just centimeters away from catching it! But no, your dumb player had the audacity to jump up in the air and make a stupid move, stealing his opportunity to win the game.
He was so mad.
When he entered the main hall and a few Slytherins laughed. A familiar one stepped right beside him, grabbing his arm.
—Hi Tsumu!- You chirped. Your hair was unusually messy, a prove of how much you jumped around in the middle of the match. The boy started walking faster, but you kept up the pace.
—What happened Tsumu? Did the small kitty cat with a lion complex— Suddenly, he made a hard turn (interrupting what you were about to say) grabbing your waist and pushing you to the nearest wall, taking you completely by surprise.
—I'm so fucking mad right now, I don't need your stupid remarks.- You looked up to him, surprised. The size difference between the two was obvious. His hands on your waist were firm, the warm they emited was making you feel... funny. You opened your mouth to protest, but Atsumu was quick, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers.— Shshshh.- He hushed you.- You are always saying dumb stuff. You are always saying how smart you are… Do you wanna know what I think? I think you are pretty girl with an attitude problem.- He began to squeeze your cheeks harder and harder, making your mouth form a pout. Your eyes were tearing and your legs trembling. What was happening to you? Atsumu wasn't oblivious to this. He laughed and got near your right ear.– Don't tell me you like this... Are you some type of masochist? Don't get me wrong, I like that. See? I always said we were a perfect match.- He made you open your mouth.– If you say something dumb I'm either shutting you up with my fingers or with my cock.
He let go the hand on your cheeks to immediately kiss you. His kiss was desperate. As if it contained all his anger and frustration. His tongue caressed yours with an impressive hunger, your already trembling legs were starting to get wet.
—How could you loose that opportunity to— Truth to his word, the Gryffindor boy stuffed your mouth with his fingers, making you gag in response.
—You are so pretty like this. Why are you always mouthing something dumb? Aren't you a good girl?- The boy squeezed your waist harder, getting closer to you.
Atsumu broke away from the kiss and looked right into your eyes.
—You good? Its the first time I see you being so quiet.
—Fuck you, Atsumu.
—Yeah, I'm trying.
He started kissing you again and again. Droll was dripping down your chin. It was so messy, so filthy.
—Tsumu, please.- You plead. The boy nodded and moved your panties aside, finally touching your clit and massaging it. Your high pitched moans increased, even if you tried really hard to suppress them. But Atsumu was making it hard. Suddenly, a long finger entered you. Your juices rapidly coated it, making you a little embarrassed. One finger turned into two, and then three. His free hand find the way into your shirt, squeezing your left breast and pinching your nipple with his cold and calloused fingers.
Atsumu grabbed one of your legs, caressing your inner thigh and making all the way up into your skirt.
He had a moment of doubt, but when you grabbed his hand to make him touch your panties, it served him as enough confirmation to go on. The Gryffindor boy started touching you, teasing your entrance with the tip of his fingers. You moaned frustrated when he played with the elastic of the garment but didn't start anything. He laughed in between the kiss.
As the boy finger-fucked you, murmurs were heard in the distance. You got scared, breaking away from the kiss.
—Atsumu someone is coming.- The boy looked at you with a serious expression and moved his head in disagreement. He kept kissing you.
You let yourself get carried away in the heat of the moment, reciprocating the kiss, but still, you were trying to listen to your surroundings, but the only sound you heard was the squelching sounds coming from your pussy and Atsumus fingers. Your moans were getting louder, it was really hard to keep kissing him. You were so so close to cumming, your eyes were filled with tears mere seconds away from your release.
—DID YOU SEE THAT CATCH? IT WAS AMAZING! Slytherin in Quidditch is the BEST!
—That stupid Gryffindor lost the snitch in the last second.
Your heart stopped.
—Tsumu.- You looked into Atsumus eyes, fear crept into your face. The voices were so close where you two were.- Atsumu please.- You cried out, trying to getaway from the boy, but he didn't budge, he kept fingering your pussy and massaging your breasts, he even picked up the pace of his fingers for the new found incentive.
You tried and tried to separate from Atsumu, crying out his name, but the boy was so much stronger than you. He was practically manhandling your body into keeping that position.
Then you saw it, a few meters away. Someone with curly black hair and a Ravenclaw tunic. He crossed glances with your teary eyes and choked in shock.
You didn't know why, but you cummed, nice and hard.
Your vision became blurry. Maybe it was because of the tears in your eyes, or maybe for the mind-blowing orgasm you just had, but you couldn't connect a single thought. As you cummed and spasm around Atsumus fingers, the blonde Gryffindor smiled happily, giving you a pat on your head.
| kinktober week one | ♱ don’t make me say it ♱ | atsumu miya x reader |
synopsis: “it’s not your fault osamu is the better twin, atsumu just rubs you the wrong fucking way.”
wc: 2.6k
cw: enemies to lovers (but still kinda enemies), pet names (baby, angel), unprotected sex, degradation, d/s dynamics, hatefucking, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, dick slapping, mentions of masturbation, fingering, exhibitionism, facials, swallowing, humiliation, ATSUMU I HATE U SO MUCH KISS ME. NO MINORS.
author’s note: my god he is so annoying. this one goes out to @kweenkatsuki, her monoma fics are probably my fave “enemies who fuck” fics i’ve ever read. This one’s filthy, im afraid.
tw. noncon/dubcon, implied yandere, forced emotional cheating, virginity, service dom, coercion/manipulation, corruption kink, size kink, creampie, service dom! tsumu, degradation and praise
wordcount. 5.5k
a/n. commissioned by a lovely person who wanted to stay anonymous, thank you so much for commissioning me and trusting me with your story, and i really really hope it delivers and you enjoy!!! this is kinda softer than my usual stuff but also still read the tws pretty please ♡♡♡ ya and ty and enJOYyy some tsumu
miya atsumu x fem!reader
“Come up, will ya?” he smiles, grabbing your hand and swinging the interlaced pair back and forth. You can’t help but have to bite back a tiny smile at the way his rougher hand links into yours, and butterflies still erupt any time his hazel eyes find you.
“Shin, I-” you sigh back, before quietly chuckling as he heaves you up onto the bleachers and tugs you along to slide in right next to the familiar face. Aran rolls his eyes, but you can tell that there’s too much fondness in his look to seriously mind the lovey-dovey shit— and really, you can’t help it.
Any girl your age would be expected to go all heart eyes when their boyfriend looks at them that way. “Happy now?” you ask as you’re pushed between Aran and the escape to the outside fresh air, void of all the sweaty teen musk and squeaking sneakers, and Shinsuke smiles ever so slightly at the sight.
“Yes, I am. Keep our long-suffering ace company for a bit while he patches up his ankle, won’t ya?” He’s already escaping down from the stands with the knowledge that you will, because if nothing else, you love watching the guys play. You’ve loved watching Shinsuke play ever since middle school, and Aran’s expression gives you the idea that he knows this too. Because he simply shrugs, and re-wraps the ice pack a little better around that wounded ankle.
“Aye aye, Captain,” you shoot back as he makes his way back to the court, and this time, he gives you that wonderfully cheeky smile that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. “And you, you’re a third year. You’re supposed to be one of the responsible ones.” You give the tall ace to your side a side-eye as he laughs full and loud, and nods.
“Sorry, Mrs. Kita. It won’t happen again.” Practice continues for another half an hour in peace, as you joke around with your boyfriend’s best friend for a while, tossing the occasional stray ball back onto the court, but mainly, just watching the guys play. You didn’t use to have such a love for the sport. When you were a ball-girl back in middle school, you only did it because it was an easy extra grade on your report card, and kept you sort of busy during hours you wouldn’t have anything else to do.
But now, sometimes it seems as much your life blood as it is theirs. You probably wouldn’t have developed such a crush on the quiet, well-spoken boy with the fluffy tufts of hair that flopped about if you hadn’t kept with it, wouldn’t have dated him, wouldn’t have laid in the dark talking about what your life together might look like. Watched Shin grow into the person he is today.
You smile and wave as Shinsuke looks up at you yet again and throws back a wink, and a few of the guys follow his gaze. Familiar lazy gazes of differing shades of brown. But they stay quiet, for now, and the team captain claps his hands to call for a break. And the lankiest of your middle blockers groans and reaches for a bench too quickly, as everyone disperses. Aran makes his way down the stands for the toilet, Ginjima follows suit, and your boyfriend goes through the trouble to start collecting the balls with the same single-minded focus he always has while practicing. But before you can so much as manage to make it down the stairs to help him out, a familiar figure comes up beside you.
“Captain’s got it, I think,” Atsumu smiles as he comes to walk beside you, not the slightest bit winded despite having jogged up to you after an hour of intensive training— and blinks down at you with the self-assured grin you’ve come to expect of the star setter. “Yer still comin’ to our practices, huh?”
“Yes, Miya. Believe it or not, I actually like watching you guys play, ‘m not just here to waste time and gawk.”
“Whoa, doll,” the blond isn’t fazed, and simply throws up his hands in mock-defense, “I wouldn’t dare question the validity of yer visits. I mean, ya brighten up the place, really.” The comfortable way he swings an arm over your shoulder and leans in a little isn’t too far out of how he usually acts, and you do know that Atsumu’s pretty damn touchy with everyone. But his smile, and the way his eyes flick down your face with an almost grating intensity— will never stop feeling flirty- and therefore- inappropriate. Though you try to find something fitting to say, he’s already running his mouth again before you get the chance to.
“Would be even better if ya’d put on a shirt with my name on it and took some cheer classes,” he gloats, and the way he walks leaned into you keeps his face much too close to yours as you go to frown at him, “bet ya’d really suit the Inarizaki colors when you glare like that.” It sets you off, and he knows it does, because he’s dodging the way you go to swing at his arm with a chuckle before you get to, and catches your fist in his hand to squeeze it a little. “Hah, always so mean to me. Getting predictable, pretty girl.”
Your bottom lip is sucked to slot between your teeth, and you roll your eyes, shrugging off the other hand that he tried to ruffle through your hair. “You’re exhausting.”
“Sure is,” Shinsuke suddenly mumbles, tossing a ball at the setter that he manages to catch, before raising a brow. “That’s my girlfriend, Atsumu. If you would, please.”
“Ya got it, Cap’n. Of course,” he chants back with a sing-song-y voice, but his thumb still rubs another few circles into the soft skin of your hand before he goes to annoy Osamu and Suna instead. It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but he’s pulling away before you have the chance to really acknowledge the touch. And if Kita has any concerns about what he just saw, you sure as hell can’t tell, when he pulls you close and places a loving kiss between your brows. But you still have to force yourself to ignore the way Atsumu gives you a once over and -if you didn’t know the guy better than that- undresses you with his eyes.
+
Graduation should feel a little bittersweet, you guess. The party isn’t too wild, considering, but it’s still loud and a little over the top— so you confine yourself to the area further away from the pounding music and sip reasonably mild drinks while the rest of the team and their plus-ones take their best attempt at rattling Suna’s house off its’ foundations. It’s warm for a spring night, and sweat sticks to the back of your neck and chest from the earlier forced dancing you were pulled into. But now the pool table has been abandoned for the garden, and you take the few quiet moments to breathe.
Most of the guys will be moving on to professional level, a few of them to university, and another few have jobs lined up. Just last year, Shinsuke moved back out to the countryside, and Aran to Tokyo; and while you’ve all tried to keep up communications, distance really does play a big part in it. And now it’s all your turns… It’ll be safe to say you won’t see some of them again much in just a few quick months. The thought already fills you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You don’t get too much rest though, because a flash of blonde followed by an equally handsome, dark-haired copy filter back into the house. Atsumu brightens a little when he spots you, lazy eyes sharper and more calculating in the low light of the house. Of course he does, he seems to have a strange fascination with annoying you to bits.
“Well, pretty girl, ‘ve ya been abandoned by yer human defense robot?” His handsome face paints on a grin, with slightly rosy cheeks and ears, that almost makes him look a few years younger. Almost makes him look innocent. You know better though, and swallow down the want to give back some snarky comment that would surely have you in a battle of wits until someone puts a stop to it. And his twin… isn’t that person. You wonder how much he’s had to drink. Not that you’re doing much better, anyway. You can feel the buzz in your blood and the heat on your face.
Osamu’s hair is messy and fluffier than usual, probably courtesy of the girlfriend he brought and— with a quick glance around the room— has been left on her lonesome somewhere in the partying group outside. You pity her just a little bit, but it doesn’t exactly surprise you that the Miya twins aren’t the most consistent with their affections. The guys started having groupies all the way back in freshman year, and the years have only built upon that fame. The darker haired of the two puts a fist into Atsumu’s shoulder, before crossing his arms. “That’s our last Captain yer talkin’ about, stupid Tsumu. Show some respect.”
“Aw, Samu. I’m sorry, alright.”
You smile softly, and nod your head towards the door. “Not abandoned. He stepped out for a minute for a smoke,” you cut them off, knowing full well they could continue their bickering for hours if left to it. It’s not like you don’t like the twins. They’re obnoxious, and boisterous and hyper at the best of times, but they’re insanely talented too. You would like them, if not for— Atsumu feeling too comfortable hanging his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a hug, heavy cologne mixed with a scent that is distinctly more him enveloping you as you freeze up. “Miya-”
“‘S gonna be weird without everyone ‘round, huh? I’ll miss ‘em,” he lowers his voice as he keeps your face into his chest, and simply out of a desire not to feel too awkward, you allow your arms to wrap loosely around his back. You give a little motion to be let out of the hug to nod, and smooth your hands down your pants.
“Yeah, me too.”
There’s a sort of glint in Atsumu’s eyes that seems like tenderness as he pats your shoulder, then smiles. “Well, a’least you’ll know me.” Your expression must give away your confusion, because he continues. “Yer goin’ to Tokyo uni, I’m goin’ to Tokyo to check out some of the teams there. It’ll be good. Don’t tell me yer just gonna ignore me when we’re gonna live so close together.”
You don’t think it over- Shinsuke must’ve told him. As the buzz washes over you and the music picks up outside, Atsumu’s large hands find your shoulders and he turns you around towards Osamu, who has already poured three large shots. “Oh, I don’t-”
“Come on~ for prosperity,” Osamu chants, his hand finding yours to unfurl it and place one of the large shot glasses in your hand. And Atsumu nods behind you, basically glittering from excitement. You’re normally a bit more -standoffish, by necessity- but the atmosphere of the night is light. And Tsumu’s hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards one of the chairs and sits you down is nice; even if you only realize a second or two after that he’s sat below you.
“Ya owe me a couple cheers at least,” Atsumu basically coos into your neck as he taps his own glass to yours. “‘Sides, I think Shin went ta go drop off some of the other guys, no need ta wait up for ‘em. Right Samu?”
“That’s what I heard, Tsumu.”
+
You don’t expect university to be the thing that breaks you, but the distance, the lack of communication, of support— all drag on you. You and Shin both promised to make it work, but he’s busy a lot. The farm keeps him occupied. At least- that’s what you have to assume when most of your messages get read and not answered. It isn’t like Shin, but then again, you suppose it’s a growing period. It’s natural.
More surprising than that is that through it all, Atsumu is there a lot more than you expected. The giant, prestigious sport center where he trains isn’t too far from your campus, but he still goes out of his way to swing by whenever he can to keep you company, which isn’t so self explanatory as you had hoped it would be. It’s not that you don’t make friends, or can’t make friends, it’s just that- after a few weeks- they just seem to vanish off of the face of the earth. Like they were never even there to begin with. You even catch some people purposefully avoiding you on campus as the year goes on.
But the workloads are heavy, and hard, so you sadly don’t have enough time in a day to worry about it as much as you would like to. You still have Atsumu, at least, and as much as you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it shy of a few months ago, his persistence about wanting to be by your side does slowly have you bending just a little.
“I swear it, cross ma little heart,” the blonde dramatically says while walking the grounds with you- on his free day- “am I not the best goddamn setter in the prefecture? What choice is there?” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks over at you to pout. “Make me feel better, c’mon.” Before you can really analyze the moment or how he looks at you with those warm brown eyes and too much fondness, his hand wraps around yours, slipping his fingers between yours with a strange determination.
You stop walking, and your school bag hits your thigh hard because of the abrupt stop. “Atsumu.” You’ve had this conversation with him about a million times. You are with Shinsuke. You have been with Shinsuke since middle school, and though dealing with the distance is hard right now, you promised to try. And he says he understands, and you’re making a big deal out of nothing— but it sure doesn’t seem like he does. “I am d-dating Sh-”
“Ya keep sayin’ yer dating, but where is yer boyfriend? Didn’t ya say he hasn’t been responding to yer messages?” Though he tries to keep his voice down, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and stares like he’ll burn holes through the shape of you. “Ain’t that proof enough?”
“I know Shinsuke, and you know Shinsuke. If he wanted to break up, he would say it.” You puff your chest out a little, and swallow, trying to untangle your hands from his grip. “He’s busy, and this is a transition period for us both, and I just- I want to make it work.” Atsumu seems to cling on for a second longer with a slight kink in his brow, but then he lets go and sighs, rubbing his hands back and forth through his lighter blonde hair with a groan.
“Fine— fine! If ya gotta hear ‘im say it…”
+
The irony tastes bitter. It stings with every swallow, really.
‘I think it’s not working out. I’m sorry. We should break up.’
You’re staring at the message for the nth time this evening, burying yourself in your cocoon of blankets and an almost empty back of chips yet again. You must’ve breathed it into existence, right? There’s no way around the timing of the message, and the sick way it churns in your stomach. You’re halfway towards another crying fit when Atsumu plops himself down onto your bed and grimaces. “Put that down,” he mumbles, snatching the phone out of your hand despite your glare, “you’ve been cryin’ all fucking evening. You really wanna do more of that?”
“I didn’t ask you to come over,” your voice is a murmur, pinched and sad and tiny, because who wouldn’t be heartbroken at a moment like this. “You just invited yourself in, which- hck- is the worst timing you’ve ever had.”
“But yer glad I’m here. I know ya are.” Whatever. Maybe you’re a little glad for the company, but Atsumu’s flavor of bluntness is really doing a number on you. Instead you reach for a tissue and blow your nose again, and try not to cry yourself to death. “He didn’t treat ya right anyway, don’t lie t’ yerself. Hey- look- look at me, c’mon,” his hands are on your face as he tugs it towards him and stares too deep into your eyes, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “No more cryin’ about yer shitty high school crush. Not while I’m here, and I’m yer amazing, incredible support system that yer so very grateful for-” He breaks off in laughter when you have to bite a chuckle back despite your heartache, and try to pull your face out of his touch.
But he lingers, and leans in a little. “What? Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong, and I- I’m glad you’re here-” It isn’t a lie, but he’s still leaning in, and his face is growing awfully close and it’s- it’s too soon— and you shrink into your cocoon and look away in an attempt to save the situation. Shin broke up with you hours ago. “Atsumu-” you start, only to be cut off as he tugs the blankets down somewhat harshly, and clicks his tongue.
“Stop runnin’. Yer always doing this crap, I’m…” He sighs, and tries to coach you back out with thinly veiled patience. “Am I really so bad to ya? Hm?”
“Of course you’re not.”
He sits back, before patting his lap, and looks at you. In the last light of the sun that falls through your window he’s cast in the prettiest oranges and pinks, and looks almost ethereal to the world. You’re not blind. That was never in question. “Come here.” Despite being conflicted, there’s a glint in his eye that worries you. That if you were to disagree, he’d leave. And you’re not sure you could handle that right about now. As he leads you out of the blankets you notice how cold your room is in just a shirt and some ugly shorts, and Atsumu mumbles something under his breath. “Ya weren’t this shy at graduation, y’know.”
Your frown digs into your face, but his hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in and pushes you down into his lap with a soft hum. “What do you mean- graduation?”
“Just settle down, will ya? Jeez.” Warm hands that slide to the small of your back to force you ever so close to him, your heart basically stuttering out of your ribcage. “Always so damn skittish ‘round me.” You always wondered a little, truthfully. If the way Atsumu’s touches would linger on you was something to worry about, keep an eye on. If you should have been more careful about setting boundaries- and how he looks at you now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he gives you an up and down… it says enough. Too much, even.
And though you admit that your heart is pattering like a hummingbird, there’s a much larger issue here. You love Shinsuke, you want- Shinsuke, p-promised you’d make it work for him— and it's barely been a few hours. You can’t, so you try to find the words to say; but the blond leans down to start pressing kisses down the side of your neck with a soft chuckle. His arms wrap tightly around your back, even though you place a hand on his chest and shake your head. “Tsumu, no. We can’t, I- can’t, let go.”
The noise he makes into the kisses trembles through your skin and seems to reach bone, before he squeezes a little harder to keep you slotted against him. “Yer so pretty, baby. Always were so fuckin’ pretty,” he goes from keeping you in his lap to slowly pushing you back in bed, sending your breathing into shallow spikes.
“Tsumu, cut it out!”
“I know yer nervous,” his pretty brown eyes are blown out when he pushes you down by your shoulders and you’re buried in your blankets, before he descends on your throat and chest again, kissing and leaving biting nicks, “didn’t do nothin’ like this before right? Know ya were waitin’- but I got ya now. Relax, I’ll make ya feel good. Promise.” The idea that Tsumu knows something so personal about you doesn’t even cross your mind— though it should, more than the way his weight and size locks you in place under his strong, athletic body.
“No, no, I- Shin just broke up with me- and I-”
His expression darkens, eyes narrowing a little as he comes to hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek as the other wraps tight around your wrist. “Don’t say another man’s name when I got ya under me.” He takes a long breath, before descending on you, mouth to mouth, and then pushing his tongue into your mouth too hard for you to keep him out. You try to call his name, but he kisses you without regard, uncaring as he grips your face and makes a noise of agreement when you relax your jaw out of sheer necessity. “Ya’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted ya, doll. Really, hah.”
His hand slides down your chest to start picking the shirt up your body, and though your rapidly rising and falling chest is exposed, his eyes stay sharp on you, and you can’t help but choke on your cries. He doesn’t look right. His eyes are wide and so sharp, mouth slightly curled as he forces your both wrists next to your head. “Thought I was gonna have ta kill ‘im for you ta finally give in, but-” He kisses you again, before the hand gripping your face snakes down between your bodies to grab your tits through your shirt as he repositions his thighs to lock your lower half in place under him. “Yer gonna be a good little thing for me, ain’t ya?”
“Tsumu,” you squeak, fisting your hands into his shirt by his shoulders, but it only makes him groan in response. “Let me go, I want-”
“You don’t know what ya want.” He takes a deep breath, before slipping his hands under the garment and brushing his thumb over your raised nipples, peeked from the cold air. “But I do. ‘N I’m gonna make ya beg for me so fuckin’ good.” He lets you go for a moment to take your shirt off with rough tugs, before staring again. “See, Samu said I should give it a rest. But how can I, when I knew you’d be the prettiest little virgin cunt ever? Hm?” He licks his lips, before leaning down to start kissing all over your tits, sucking and tugging at your nipples with noises that make you grow from the inside. A cold shiver rolls down your spine, and you find yourself pulling his hair despite yourself. Because it feels good, and heat pools low in your belly.
“Tell me ya want it. Tell me ya want me.” The fire that seems to glint behind his eyes takes you aback, and you try to scramble from under him, but he’s back over you before you get a chance to. Gripping your face and forcing you into another kiss, the taste of his tongue on yours, deep and heavy. “People here hate ya, don’t ya know that? Think yer a real bitch. That’s why no one wants to be yer friend.” He rests his forehead to yours, so that you’re basically breathing each other’s air, and hums. His free hand starts taking off the sweats he’s wearing in a smooth motion, leaving him hard in just boxers. “But I’ve been ‘ere for you.” Another kiss. “I’m good to ya, too.”
The room is so hot, and your brain completely thrown off with the mix of all emotions you’ve felt in these short few hours; and it has you all fucked up. Tsumu must know this, but he doesn’t care. And you take a few panted breaths, looking between your two bodies at the was your tits brush up against him each time you move— he’s so close. “So say you want it, or I’m leavin’.”
“I want it.” Your voice shakes as it comes out, eyes stinging, head floaty— it barely feels like you said anything at all. “I want you.” He takes that as all he needs before grinning, kissing your temple and shuffling off you to shove his boxers down his thighs, before grabbing himself by the base and stroking a few lazy pumps along himself.
“Here, kiss it,” he nods his head towards it, helping you up and then right back down so you’re on your hands and knees. You’re getting wet. Sadly, you didn’t exactly think to put on any nice panties, but Tsumu doesn’t care as he makes you lean in and down until you can rest your lips to his cock, and he makes another noise. “I know it’s kinda bad but- I’ve been wanting ta fuck yer face for years now. Put- yer tongue out.” The admission only makes you feel more hot and hazy, and you do as you’re told. “Ahh, mhm.” He tastes weird when he pushes the glossy head to your tongue, translucent precum coating your tongue, but he takes a few more pumps, then pushes you back over.
“But not now, I wanna fuck you first. Yer gonna let me fuck your tight, little cunt, right?” The plush in your face doesn’t hide the heat as it floods to your face, your belly, down your legs— and he manhandles your legs up to start peeling off your shorts and panties. You can feel the strings of slick as they connect your wet pussy and the fabric, and hide your face into your shoulder before he groans your name again. “Yer so fuckin’ wet, look atcha. Already a little cock tease, and I haven’t even done nothin’ yet.” Your hot, puffy pussy is revealed, and he swipes two fingers out to circle around the wet hole without hesitation, only pulling back to slot the digits in his mouth. He shrugs his shirt off and tosses it next to the bed, then comes to kiss you again.
“Ya taste that? That’s yer pussy gushin’ like a whore for me. Only me.” He kisses like he’s got something to prove, taking your mouth up until all you can think of is him, and the places where your skin seems to zap under his rough hands. Each touch leaving you more breathless than the next. And you’re forced to just nod along and abide, because you couldn’t ask for what you need if you tried. He plays with your tits while pushing first one prodding digit in, but soon pushes up with two. “Gotta- prep this little hole before I fill you up, right? That’d be the nice thing to do. Even though ya haven’t been very nice to me, babe.”
“‘m sorry- Tsumu-” you hold back a whimpering moan as he squeezes your tits hard and flicks your nipples, and his fingers slowly push into you. The wetness dripping down your slit and along your inner thighs is hot, and your body curves instinctively as he slowly slides in and out a few times, while the man above you chuckles.
“No, you ain’t, little minx.” His grin is still wide though, hiking your one leg higher to get a better look at the way your greedy pussy swallows up his long fingers and he fucks you open so easily. “S’okay tho, I forgive ya. ‘Cus I’m gonna get to fuck this pretty pussy first.” The slick sounds fill the room and sound so, so loud, and lewd, and yet, there’s still more noise coming from your throat as he goes deeper again and his thumb finds your puffy clit with a little hum. “Uhuh, that feel good? Look at you enjoying this. Didn’t you want me ta stop? Huh?”
“Hm,” you just answer, grabbing your own chest with one hand, his arm with the other. He’s so much bigger than you like this, so muscular and intimidating. You look between your bodies to watch his fingers bottom out, and though the stretch is a little uncomfortable, it’s mostly just really, really good, filling your head with fog. Tsumu’s thick cock twitches between his legs, and he leans in to kiss you again. This time pulling his hand back to slide it into your mouth instead, making you gag when his fingers hit the back of your throat. You taste heady, a little musky, and lick your lips for the thin thread of spit when he pulls back.
“Alright, say thank you, Tsumu.”
“-thank you, Tsum-” you parrot, and also freeze under him when he goes to reposition himself and his cock head pushes at your sloppy, wet slit. “Wait- condom-”
“Shhh, just relax. If you freak out it’ll hurt ya.” He places one elbow next to your head, and lines himself up better, before starting to push into you already, and your leg jerks. He’s really big. Too big, you think, trying to take a deep breath as he starts breaking open your slick walls and slowly moving back and forth through it. “Aghh, that’s- it, that’s it, thatsithatsit-” He moans loudly, pushing your cheek up and kissing you back long and deep, tongues messily tangling and tasting each other, bumping noses as he fucks in, and in, and in. It pulls every thought out of you, every fiber filled with electricity. The tightness is painful, but you don’t want him to pull back, and judging by the way he groans into your mouth, he won’t anyway.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m fucking my tiny virgin cunt with a condom,” he pants when pulling back, eyes blown wide. His hand pushes your knee up more to stare at where you’re connected, before pulling back halfway and fucking back in, and the pressure on your womb and belly is enough to have you whining out so loud it barely sounds human. “That good, huh?” He bottoms out again, feels so fucking deep inside you that you can feel him high up in yourself bumping against your walls, and it feels so good, so, so good your toes curl and your knees lock around him.
“Fuck,” you can just barely gasp, before he pumps into you again, and starts really grinding himself into you. Slick drips out of you with each thrust, and makes the bed rattle under his weight. His hair sticks matt to his forehead, his lip pulled between his teeth, and the wet slapping of his hips meeting your skin is so distracting. Everything aches. Everything feels so good. You can barely even feel the sting anymore, jerking on his cock like you are. “Tsumu, I-”
“Gon’ have ta wait, princess,” he suddenly chokes, “yer clamping down on me like crazy— fuck.” He lifts one knee to push your legs open more, and then just shakes his head as he starts speeding up. “Oh, fuck it, gonna fill you up first. So fuckin’ tight, god, fuck-” The heavy thrusts go more sloppy, rapid as he chases his own orgasm and squeezes your thigh hard, yanking your teary cheeks back towards him as you pant to slide a finger between your lips and dropping a glob of his own spit into your mouth like it’s normal. Groaning into your mouth, and fucking his fat cock so deep into you you see stars. “One experience at a time, right?”
“Ah, Tsumu- p-please, fuck-me more, more, touch- more.” Your head rolls back as he pulls your hips back into him again and again, before suddenly locking up, and feeling how hot ropes of cum fill you up and he pants out your name in between a string of swears that all melt into a long growled moan as he stills. Only for a second though, because he’s quick to pull out and roll you back so that your knees are by your head, and he’s on top of you. He strokes his cock a few times, watching the last of the strings of thick cum land between your thighs. “Tsumu-” you pant, and take a breath, and pout- all at once. Because he stares at the way his cum comes out of your sloppy hole, before pushing it back inside. “Ughn-”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not done. Not even close.” He spits onto his hand before bringing two fingers back to your pussy, and his thumb over your needy, puffy bud. And you jerk, blinks stuttering as you moan high and needy. Can’t help it. “Yer gonna wish I was done with ya long before I let ya out of this bed. I’m not done playing with my pussy.”
Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni] modern AU and a bit of a crossover. stepcest, stepbrother!kiba, manipulation, infidelity, heavy degrading (seriously, he's a real cunt in this), 69, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon.
Word count: 9.6k
Masterlist
ayo, special thanks to @sneetsnoot for the peach idea!!
KIBA’S day off isn’t going all that well.
Despite the easy-going setting, the tall brunet feels the exact opposite of laid-back as he attempts to relax at the beach his family had barely managed to persuade him into visiting that hazy Friday afternoon.
Even sitting in the shade doesn’t help. The heat is unbearable and it makes Kiba wonder why on earth he’s even agreed to going out on the hottest day of the year. I mean, he doesn’t even like the beach all that much. Doesn’t enjoy the scorching sun that other people throw themselves under in the same manner he tosses burger patties on a grill, in hopes they’ll catch a tan.
Looking off into the distance with a tightly furrowed brow, trendy Ray-Ban sunglasses hide his amber eyes from view as he brings the icy can of soda he’s cracked open only mere moments ago up to his lips.
He nearly drinks half of the sugary drink in one swig. The high degrees are making him absolutely parched, but the sugar feels nice as it clings to his front teeth in a layer so thin he can lick it right off.
The damp, salt-laced strands of chestnut enticingly hug the sharp curve of his face and stick to his forehead from the swim he’s just taken. He pushes them from his face now, using the movement as a way to release the sudden stiffness his body experiences the moment a shrill shriek of joy resonates throughout the shore. The noise is so high-pitched that it makes his ears hurt. Makes his teeth feel on edge.
Kiba narrows his eyes as he looks at you - the perpetrator that’s causing all this commotion. His bratty little stepsister.
Listening to your little squeaks of ‘Stop!’ and ‘Put me down, Denki! Now!’ is simply unnerving, but seeing them being voiced is even worse. The sole reason Kiba has agreed to coming to the beach with his mom and her boyfriend - soon-to-be husband, is more likely - was to catch a fucking break, and yet here you are: prancing around the shore in your tiny bikini like you own the sand and the waves, conjoined at the hip with your dumbass of a boyfriend and ruining everything like you always do.
The rowdy Inuzuka sighs as he continues to lie on the fluffy towel. His taut muscles gradually slacken back into ease by the time he forces his gaze to fall down to his phone with a subdued grunt; the initial aim to do absolutely nothing but relax once again spoiled by no one other than you.
You just had to bring that dork along, didn’t you? Had to spoil the fun.
He is irked enough as it is, but watching you get picked up and thrown over the shoulder of the idiot he’s disliked from the moment he had laid eyes on him for the first time, makes Kiba outright fume for some fucking reason. Makes his blood boil and his jaw clench so tightly that he can feel his sharp incisors gritting together.
He blames it on work. The air in the workshop has been nothing but burdensome and tense as of late, but this specific week in particular had been the worst by far. He’s worked late into the night, risen early, and has been nagged from all sides for five days in a row.
If anybody would have told him three years ago that he’d have to sift his way through enormous numbers of annoying customers that are way too stingy with their money but still want their cars fixed ASAP, he would have laughed and politely told them to kiss his ass.
Seriously - they’re that bad. Especially the fancy business folk in their eerily clean clothes and expensive suitcases, who look down on him just because of the work he tends to do. They just have to treat him like shit. Make him all pent-up with rage that he can barely control in the first place because of his inherited anger issues and short temper.
Yes, he might be 'just another' blue-collar worker amongst many, but he is also the reason why their shiny BMWs and Teslas and whatnot stupid cars are running smoothly and operating without any sort of mishaps. So fuck them. And fuck their shitty prejudice, too.
Some days, Kiba swears that he can barely resist the urge of jumping over the counter and strangling them until they’re twitching and done for. And he isn't even into those murder podcasts his ex-girlfriend liked to listen to all the time.
But not everything is all that sour, despite the Karen-like people that get on his nerves and that keep straight up assaulting him at the counter. Still rather young, and thus awfully simple-minded, Kiba really does like working as a car mechanic, he truly does. He likes working with cars and listening to the radio whilst he tends to the vehicles. Enjoys eating burgers and salty French fries from the food stand across the street during his break. Hell, he even likes the smell of gasoline and the sticky feeling the engine grease leaves on his hands. Not to mention that the pay is pretty good as well.
But as of right now, Kiba is clean of grease and smells like salt instead of potent motor oil. His standard work pants have been replaced by a pair of navy blue swimming trunks, the white t-shirt tossed to the side and his tan skin exposed to the warm sea breeze that keeps wafting by. He’s supporting himself with his elbow as he drinks the sugary Coke, knee slightly bent and phone open on a tab that shows a Reddit post that had caught his interest minutes ago but he never quite got to reading properly yet.
He’s tried to, but he's unable to concentrate on the words and their meaning.
After all, the whine you voice sounds closer this time around, and sure enough: when Kiba swiftly lifts his gaze from his phone once more like it’s an automatic response to your calls, he sees you stumbling out of the sea with a pouty frown, hair soaked and skin dewy from droplets of water that glisten in the bright sunlight.
He likes what he's seeing only partially, though. The reason for it might just be your giddy boyfriend, who is trailing right behind your heels as you walk, holding your hand and smiling at you with this huge-ass grin that makes Kiba wish he could knock his front teeth out with his fist.
He doesn’t like looking at Denki all that much. He's loud, too happy all the freaking time, so he rather shifts his attention back to you.
Because unlike the man next to you, you're a pretty little thing to look at; nice on the eyes. Truth be told, Kiba isn’t entirely sure if calling his stepsister pretty is a weird thing to do or not, but it’s what he thinks and he can’t change what he thinks - simple as that.
He also can’t help that he thinks of your tiny bikini as a gift of sorts, nor the fact that he likes how it shows off parts of your body that he doesn’t have a chance to see that often. No, Kiba just drags his gaze all over you because it’s out of his control, because it isn’t his responsibility as he keeps scanning and burning all those pretty parts into memory for whatever reason.
Reasons he’ll surely know by tonight; inside the comforting privacy of his bedroom. As he strokes his dick in that quick-paced, needy sort of way, just like he has a tendency to do, his mind full of you and your stupid tight body he plans to leave his mark upon at least once in this lifetime.
At least once, goddammit.
He tilts his head to the side as he watches, absent-mindedly chewing on the inside of his cheek whilst acknowledging the slight bounce of your tits and how your hips sway with every step you take, all salacious-like. You walk like a tricksy feline - every step confident and so alluring - and his pupils are dilating behind the dark sunglasses; outright growing to the size of dinner plates your stepmother serves before him every night.
But Kiba isn’t a coward. Timidity just isn’t in his blood.
So he pushes the Ray-Bans up as you come closer, letting them rest on the top of his head just so that he can see you even better. And you, god fucking damn it, you smile when you plop down right next to him - even give him a cheeky little wink to top it all off. As if you know exactly what he’s thinking about. As if you’re delighted by the dirty thoughts you invoke in your stepbrother all the fucking time for years on end.
And Kiba - poor, frustrated Kiba - doesn’t realize the look that crosses his face at that exact moment. He smells the salt in your hair and the sunscreen on your skin, but he doesn’t know how his entire expression shifts into something inexplicable because of it. How his body fully stills its movement before it falls into something calm, albeit equally as menacing, as he picks himself up so that he can sit on the towel.
Supporting himself with the flat of his palms, the twenty-three-year-old pushes his chest out like you’re pulling the very last breath from his lungs just with your mere scent alone; preparing him to inhale it for one last time before it brings him to his demise.
God, he wants to ruin you, he’s been wanting to do it for so fucking long. Right on this secluded part of the beach, until you’d both be covered in sweat and you’d be crying as he’d push your face into the grating sand and make you take it. Make you take his big, fat cock in your bed. In his bed. In his car. In the shop he works at. Anywhere, everywhere, anytime, all the time.
But instead of biting into your neck like a wild, untamed animal and making you submit like you’re some damn bitch in heat, Kiba rather sinks his teeth into the peach your father tosses in his direction out of the blue. His right hand shoots up as he catches it swiftly - honed reflexes and all - but it’s like a wake up call. It snaps him right back to reality.
He feels woozy, somewhat. Like his soul isn’t fully nestled inside his body.
“You good, son?” your father asks.
“Yeah.” Kiba blinks and licks his front teeth before he kisses them with a pucker of his lips in sheer annoyance. “M’good.” He isn’t his fucking son.
And you’re not his sister. At least not the one he can’t fuck.
Speaking of his real sister - he’s close with Hana, too. They talk over FaceTime from time to time because she’s moved across the country to finish her studies, but it’s nothing like the connection he shares with you, of course. She’s his blood and you’re not. She doesn’t leer at his firm build, at how big and strong he’s gotten over the years. Doesn’t drool over him like you do whenever he comes home dressed in his work pants; all tired and sighing, chestnut hair tousled as he’s stretching his tired limbs and tipping his head back as he waits for the food to heat up in the microwave late in the evening.
It's just too bad that you turn your head away whenever he looks and drools all over you in return.
Staring at the fruit he’s holding in his hand now, Kiba shakes his head with a sigh. He’s come from being irked, to sexually frustrated, back to being irked all over again. The harsh pat he receives to his shoulder proves to be a subtle warning from his stepfather, who seems to be the only one who has noticed how closer he’s been getting with his stepsibling over the past few years.
It takes a man to recognize the look of yearning on another man’s face, after all. The look of true, potent desire. Of something carnal.
And that look makes your daddy's protective instincts kick in. Makes him not like his stepson all that much.
To be honest, Kiba doesn’t know what your dad is so fucking worried about. They’re just accidental touches and fortuitous close proximity, it’s not like either of you are aiming to make them happen. You don’t plan to put your feet on his lap during movie nights in the living room, it just happens because you’re tired. He doesn’t scheme to rest his lingering gaze on you when you exit the shower wrapped in nothing but your towel, he just makes sure you’re fully finished so that he can go shower as well.
You wearing his t-shirts and hoodies means nothing, and him licking the last bit of ice cream off your spoon isn’t even a thing to consider. Him jerking it off to the sounds of your pathetic, lying moans when Denki slams you on the other side of his bedroom wall doesn’t mean shit. You imagining it’s him on top of you instead of the boisterous blond is just an intrusive thought.
Kiba hates how fake you sound whenever you spread your legs for your stupid boyfriend. He could give it to you so much better, that you’d be moaning for real. He’s older; more experienced. Looks so fine that he’s drowning in pussy, but the only one he wants to pound is yours. Fuck it until you’re crying, begging him to stop. Until you’re full of his cum and he’s pushing it back in, in, in. Filling all of your little holes, making you gasp and sob.
Even his friends had noticed his lack of interest in other girls as of late. How he prefers staying home, playing house, instead of going to parties and making his mind numb with cheap liquor and bad pot like the rest of the group.
Because that way, he gets to see you prance around in your slutty little outfits during the peak of summer when it gets really hot. He gets to see your smooth legs, your nipples poking against the thin top, the way your skirt bounces when you stomp down the stairs to annoy him when he’s watching TV or playing a game.
He is able to see your panties and how plump your cunt looks when you bend over to pick something up - the puffy lips eating up the flimsy cotton every single time. Gets to see just the mere hint of the curve of your ass when you step on your tippy-toes to reach for something on the high shelf of the cupboard and your pretty sundress rises with the movement.
And you know that he looks. You can feel his feverish gaze burning holes into your back and can hear the stifled groan he practically has to swallow down to resist voicing it into the hazy air between you. But it’s the way he readjusts himself that gets you hot; it’s the hard bulge that becomes prominent just underneath the elastic waistband of his grey Nike gym shorts that takes the cake. The way he turns right afterwards, stomps up the stairs and slams the door of his bedroom shut so angrily that the entire house shakes and his mom yells for him to get a fucking grip.
And some nights, when you’re feeling particularly daring and lonely, you even climb into his bed if he’s home just to provoke him further and give him more evidence of what a messed up slut you really are. When the hour is late, Kiba can hear the creak of his door. He feigns sleep when he feels the weight of you right next to him as the mattress dips a couple of padded footsteps later. Can hear the tired sigh as you lift his arm that’s still heavy from sleep, nuzzle your face into his chest and just breathe.
Nothing ever happens. You wake up before him on most mornings, still wrapped tightly in his embrace and leave his room in the same quiet manner you’ve entered it. And that's good, that’s proper, but some sick part of you that’s hidden so, so deep still wishes something did happen.
Especially because you can feel the ridge of his cock poking you through his pyjama bottoms when you go to peel yourself away from him. Feel him pressing against the back of your thigh and the curve of your ass; all thick and heavy, hips slowly rolling by pure instinct in his sleep. And knowing how big he is, how hard he is just for you - his little sister - it drives you nuts. Turns you absolutely insatiable.
It feels like you’re drugged when he refuses to let you go. As that strong, muscular arm tightens its hold around your middle; thick fingers digging into your t-shirt, just mere inches away from slipping under but never quite doing so. It’s like he’s refusing to let you run away from him even in his slumber, making you outright have to force your way out of his bed before your parents could find you like this.
‘Bonding’, Tsume tends to call it. In truth, she’s just happy that the constant fights that had ensued between you during the first couple of years of sharing a household are done and over with. That the phase of her son acting up as a troublesome teenager, and her stepdaughter being a confused pre-teen just entering that point of her life is at long last finished.
But your father thinks otherwise. Sure, you might be nineteen now and Kiba is well on his way towards his mid-twenties, but he still thinks of the peace that has surprisingly settled between you as something filthy and improper. So much so, that he is even hesitant to leave you both alone to watch the bags as Tsume and Denki call after him to join them for another swim.
“It’s okay, dad. Really.” You grin, stretching out your legs on your own towel, “Kib and I will watch over the stuff. Go have fun, I think Denki wants to impress you with his swimming skills.”
It isn’t a lie at least. A truth good enough to soothe your father’s worries for a short while. You’re in public, after all.
And now - sitting completely alone with your big brother - it is your turn to leer. Staring amusedly, your own teeth find solace in chewing on your plump bottom lip as you watch the curve of his Cupid’s bow touch the ripe fruit. He opens his mouth slowly: the sharp canines he’s inherited from your stepmother puncturing the skin before it gives in and finally lets him in.
You don’t know why on earth watching him eat a damn peach is making your stomach tighten with heat and your thoughts aimless, but you suppose that it’s something in the way his mouth moves. In the way you can see just a mere hint of his pink tongue as he laps up a droplet of nectar before it becomes too much and it overflows.
And you just can’t help yourself, no matter how hard you try. The moment the sugar dribbles down his chin, you’re reaching forward; wiping it off of his jaw with the tip of your finger.
“Sorry,” you say. “You had a bit of peach juice there.”
“Thanks.” He doesn’t look at you when he expresses the gratitude, but he doesn’t have to. You can see the flutter of a muscle in his cheek as you swipe your thumb over the corner of his mouth. Even the cords within his neck turn stiff at the touch.
“You’re so messy,” you continue softly, pulling your hand back after a moment too long for it to be considered fully platonic. You want to lick the damn sugar off your finger pad. Share the peach. But you do neither of those things, because you’re in public and you’ve already risked enough. Your father is close by and watching - you know he is. Just like your boyfriend.
Oh. Right… You have a boyfriend.
“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” Kiba pushes the sunglasses back onto his eyes before taking another bite. He chews, nice and slow; fighting back the ghost of a smirk as he looks at the waves. “‘m so fuckin’ sloppy, huh?”
Sloppy. The word sounds so dirty albeit just as appealing when he says it. “Yeah…” Your spit tastes thick in your mouth now. Why does he have to be so blatant about it? So provocative? “Definitely sloppy.”
“Mhmmm.” He turns to look at you as he bites into the peach again. As he sucks the sweet juice into his mouth and grins right afterwards when he sees you looking. “Can’t help it… It is what it is, lil’ sis.”
Your heart is pounding from the desire for him to pound you. “I don’t mind.”
“I know you don’t.”
He sounds so self-assured; so smug. Like he knows exactly what’s cooking inside your mind at that moment. Did he see the texts you’ve exchanged with your best friend about him? No, there is no way - your phone is locked and he doesn’t know the code. So, he’s probably just messing with you. Pulling you on some sick joke he finds amusing, like he always does. Just to bully you, despite the ceasefire between you.
Still, your breath hitches as you murmur, “You know?”
He perks up at the submissive tone you voice. Tips his chin down so that he can look at you above the edge of the sunglasses. He literally ogles at you now, and his eyes are just so fucking dark when they meet your own - the darkest shade you’ve ever seen him have as he says, “Yeah… I know.”
To others, the private little exchange between you and your stepbrother might seem like nothing odd at all. They’d look at you and think that the brief smile he gives you and the wide-eyed look you give him in return are nothing more but a sign of taunting teasing between two rivalrous siblings.
But they don’t feel the tension like you two do. Don’t recognize the buzz that vibrates between you right after his smile fades and your look turns doe-eyed, and how it makes both of your faces warm and your skin riddled with flashes of sticky sweat.
They don’t know anything.
—
It unexpectedly starts to rain when you get back home from the beach. By night-time, the thunderstorm is at its peak.
And you, you’ve wound up in your big brother’s bed again the moment you’ve said goodnight to your boyfriend over the phone, but this time under the pretense that you’re scared of the thunder and lightning that cracks and whips on the dark sky that haunts you on the other side of his window.
The glass nearly rattles from how strong the gusts of wind are. In truth, you find the weather comforting, but any excuse works if you get to sleep with your stepbrother; even if you have to deduce yourself to a role of the scared little girl because of it.
The alarm clock on his nightstand flashes 2:03 in the morning as you do your routine of lifting his arm and slipping under the thin duvet to squeeze close to him a moment after. As you entangle your limbs with his longer, stronger ones and just breathe.
You manage to get one breath in. Two. Three. By the time you finish the fourth, you’re so dazed by how good he smells that you almost fail to realize that something isn’t quite the same this time around.
But the hushed, derisive snicker your big brother lets out into the dark tells you all you need to know.
He’s awake this time. Still a bit tipsy from the couple of beers he’s had with your dad as they watched the football game before bed - you’ve seen him head to his room with a rather droopy grin and a slurred ‘G’night, sis.’.
Which also means he’s braver now. Willing to take the risk.
“Now what’s this, mm?” Kiba’s voice is deep, the drawl lazy and seemingly nonchalant as he rests his chin on top of your head and pulls you so, so close. The alcohol that’s still feebly coursing his veins dulls out his sense of morality. Expands the limits. “Wanna tell your big brother what you’re doin’ in his bed this late at night?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you admit quietly, goosebumps forming over the skin he touches and leaves burning in his wake. “It’s storming outside.” Dread trickles down your neck as you say it.
“Mhmm,” he hums in acknowledgement of the thundering weather outside, smiling into your hair. He loves it whenever you come to him. Loves it that he doesn’t even have to lift a finger, and you’ll come running straight into the open arms of your dear big brother. His whisper is shiver-inducing as he says, “You scared?”
“Yeah.” It’s true, you are scared. Not because of the storm, though. Rather because of him and how touchy he’s getting; tired mind intoxicated by beer and you.
“Yeah?”
God, the way he says the word is so enticingly patronizing. It nearly makes you drip from how quick the coil inside your stomach tightens with it. How fast your insides turn to mush as heat spills, especially when he bends his knee and pushes it right between your legs.
He doesn’t even give you a warning, but perhaps it’s better this way. I mean, why should he have to admit to doing dirty things to his little sister?
You gasp at the sudden pressure. Squirm as the seam of your flimsy pyjama shorts rubs against your clit as he pushes even higher up until you’re practically straddling his thigh. “H-Hey...”
His fingers tangle into your hair before he presses your face against his chest to shut you up. You can hear his steady heartbeat hammering against your ear. The sound is rhythmic, but instead of calming you, it causes you to feel all the more on edge. This isn’t what you expected.
Yes, it is what you wanted, but are you truly ready to give into your desires? To finally admit that you’re attracted to your stepbrother? That you want to feel full with his cock, to feel the stretch, to experience his body do wonders to your own as he proves to you that all the jokes he exchanges with his stupid friends whenever they come over aren’t just talk? To cheat on your boyfriend, who you got into a relationship with just to forget about your big brother in the first place?
Kiba doesn’t care, or perhaps he doesn’t want to care enough to know the answer. No, he’s drunk and needy; hot and bothered because you’re here, in his bed, dressed in nothing but a tank top and a pair of tiny shorts. So he lets his fingers hook around the edge of your jaw as he tips it up to make eye contact. And as soon as your eyes meet his own glazed over ones, he smiles into the dark.
It’s the horniest grin you’ve ever seen. He’s so close to you that you can see his sharp teeth glint when the lightning flashes across the sky and splashes some light into his room.
“What,” he says now, his rough palm resting on your pulse point. Your heart is thudding so fast against his finger pads that he can’t help but snort. “What is it?”
Your hands press against his broad chest as you try to catch your breath and steady yourself. Curling your trembling digits, you’re grabbing hold of his t-shirt when he moves his leg to make you feel more friction against your poor cunt. The stimulation isn’t as profound as you’d like it to be over the two layers you’re hiding your pussy underneath, but it’s the fact that it comes from your goddamn stepbrother that makes it so intense.
You try to pull back, but his massive hand slaps against your leg; fingers greedily digging into the fat of your thigh as he bends it at the knee and hooks it over his hip to bring you even closer together.
“A-ah,” he chuckles darkly, applying force to keep you still. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, princess? Not planning on running off, are ya?”
No, you’re not going anywhere. He lets you know it with his actions, with the way he shows his true colours that prove how goddamn possessive an Inuzuka can become if provoked for long enough. You’ve come here completely by your own free will, after all. Have entered the beast’s den by your own choice. He didn’t make you do it.
He didn’t make you wear those skimpy outfits around him. Didn’t force you to smile all coy-like and flutter your eyelashes whenever he’s around. Didn’t coax you into bending over and just teasing the fuck out of him for literal years.
But he is going to make you do other things now. Filthy, nasty things.
And he is going to make you stay until you’re too fucked-out to even pick yourself up from his bed. Until you’re too tired to walk all the way to your room. Too exhausted to tell on him to your father, who had felt bad for judging him so quickly back at the beach, and thus had spent some quality father-son bonding time by drinking some beers and watching the football game Kiba couldn’t give two shits about.
“Kiba,” you whisper your brother’s name, biting back a quiet whimper when his hand trails up and hikes the hem of your shorts up. As quick as the touch is, he pulls back to sneer down at you just as fast. You’re about to let out a sigh of relief, but all that comes out of your mouth instead is a hushed squeal when he smacks your ass and squeezes the plush flesh - all hard and impatient and so potently male, that it makes your eyes blow wide-open up at him in pure shock.
The pang of ache that shoots through you makes your voice shake as you whisper-shout, “St-Stop that!”
“What’re you gonna do if I don’t?” he questions, voice all smug and mean. “Gonna tell on me to your daddy? Gonna tell him how your big brother smacked your ass because you kept sneaking into his room whenever your pussy got wet?”
“I-I’m gonna tell Denki! And I’m not-... I’m not, fuck…!” You can’t believe the disgusting words that are coming out of his mouth. Aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol talking through him, or if he really is that sick of a bastard underneath all that fierce, warm persona that convinced you to bury the hatchet in the first place.
He must be, because now he smacks your ass for a second time. Makes it burn with an ache you’ve never experienced before, and makes you thankful for the raging thunderstorm outside that dulls out the noise it causes. Because if your parents found you like this… You’d be a goner. Disowned by the family - the both of you.
“What’s that dunce gonna do, huh? He can’t even fuck you right… Can’t even make you cum properly.” He laughs now; a huffed, mocking sort of sound as he looks at you, all complacent. “You think I can’t hear those fake moans you keep lettin’ out whenever he swings by? You sound worse than the whores on my PC. But you’re not a whore, are you? You’re nice and tidy, good in school, never late to cheerleading practice. A proper good girl that wants to cum just as properly, but can’t because her idiot boyfriend doesn’t know how to make her cum.”
You’re speechless. Absolutely numb from the fever that’s overtaking your body as he pushes his weight against you and makes you lay flat on your back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist when his hand finds your throat. He gives it a firm squeeze as he talks. Makes you close your eyes shut as you try to inhale a shallow breath.
You can’t focus; he’s just so hard as he rubs himself against you. When he leans in, the heat of his body is so intense that it nearly makes your skin sizzle as his cock languidly rubs against your clothed pussy. It makes your hole clench around nothing. Makes your walls flutter with the demand of being stroked.
“I can, though. I know how to make a good girl like you cum. And it’s what you want, isn’t it? Your mean brother’s cock in that little cunt of yours, stretching you out… Makin’ you spill everything you’ve got, before he does the same.” He’s so close to you that the narrow space between your bodies is nearly non-existent. He’s big; massive. He covers your smaller frame entirely whilst on top of you, shoulders broad and tense as they flex above you before he dips in to press his mouth almost against your own.
The proximity makes you feral. You angle your head to reach him better, but all he does is smirk as the tip of your nose touches his own.
“Aww, you wanna kiss me, now? What on earth happened to ‘stop’?” The snicker he lets out when you try to kiss him is so taunting that it makes your head spin with hurt. Especially as he releases your throat to pat your cheek roughly. “Tell you what, I’ll kiss you if you suck my cock first. How does that sound?”
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat at how inexplicably lewd he’s getting. Does he really want that? His little sister’s mouth around his dick; sucking, drooling, pleasuring? Or is he just messing with you again, trying to force a reaction out of you just for the fun of it?
You need to ask him. Need to know. “Are you serious right now? You really want me to… To…”
“Mhmm.” He nearly purrs as he hums, his voice so quiet that it sends electricity buzzing right through your brain. “And if you do a good enough job, I’ll lick you in return, too.” He leans into your ear, his warm exhale brushing your earlobe as he adds, “I’ll lick you all over, sis. I promise.”
Your big brother is a bully when he shows the side of him you’ve forgotten he owned over the years of faux peace. He’s exactly what he was when you were younger and hating each other: manipulative, mean, a pain in the ass, but now with the addition of being fucking hot. So fucking hot, in fact, that you become aroused as he looks down at you and sneers at the dumbfounded expression that crosses your face, all smug and egocentric-like. Especially when his large hands wrap around your hips and his thumbs slip underneath the waistband of your shorts.
“Or, y’know,” he says, a suggestive lilt to his voice as he starts tugging at the fabric, “we could save up on time and do both at once?”
“Both at… Once?”
“You deaf or something?” He sighs at the dazed expression you portray and clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Tsch. I want you to sit on my face, dummy.”
Oh, lord. He talks about it like he’s scheduling a meeting with his clumsy assistant, and not the possibility of doing 69 with his stepsibling.
But it’s thrilling in a way. How confident he is in himself and how unashamed he is about what he wants. Your voice is merely a squeak of approval because of it as you say, “Well, o-okay.”
You don't even try to fight it.
Kiba grins. He’s perfect when he smiles, he always is. “Good girl. Now let’s get you naked before I lose my fuckin’ patience. Wanna taste you on my tongue already... I've waited for ages.”
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.
He works quickly, showing you no respect whatsoever as he changes his mind and takes off your shirt first. Your tank top hasn’t even hit the floor yet and his hand is already exploring your bare chest; calloused fingertips flicking and pinching your nipples before dipping down to trace the curve of your breasts.
He chuckles at the way your chest heaves with the touch, mind buzzing with improper thoughts from seeing your upper half naked for the very first time. He’s staring down at your tits all hungry, like a wild animal of sorts. Making you insecure and self-conscious about your appearance.
Your cheek presses into the pillow that smells just like him as you attempt to hide yourself. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Fuck no.” His voice becomes deeper as he refuses your plea, breathing turning slightly shallower, “I’m looking ‘cause you’re hot as fuck, princess. Your loser boyfriend is one lucky man for getting to see this all the time, so quit whining.”
Something inside you lights up at the praise that he’s hidden underneath all the meanness, but you’re simply too dazed to think about your lovely boyfriend you’re cheating on and that he insists on mentioning to make you feel bad. Too overwhelmed from the way he begins to kiss your collarbone before moving even lower.
He has to cover your mouth when you start to whimper as soon as his tongue swirls around your nipple and he sucks it into his mouth. He suckles on it, all warm and skilled, making you arch your back and find purchase in his hair with your trembling fingers as your whimpers turn into muffled moans behind his palm.
And he - he groans when you run your digits along his scalp and tug on the chestnut strands with intricate fervour. The sound that leaves his throat is so masculine and deep that it makes your chest vibrate as he latches his mouth to you again and sucks even harder in response. Every single time his incisor pokes the sensitive bud, your pussy clenches around nothing. It’s pure torture.
You’re unable to think straight. All you can think about is him. Him, him, him. And because of it, you simply let him do what he wants. You allow him to manhandle you into the 69 position with those rough hands of his, tossing and turning you like you’re a toy of sorts until you find yourself on top of him; body completely bare and cunt exposed right above his face.
He laughs, now. “You’re drippin’.”
He says it like it’s a bad thing - in that mocking, derisive sort of tone that he’s an expert at using around you. It makes your waterline sting with tears of embarrassment as your hands rest on the hardness hiding underneath his sweatpants. “I-I’m sorry.” Fuck, he’s so big. You’re scared to pull it out.
“Why?” His finger traces your wet slit as you try to free him from the confines of his clothes, despite your jittery nerves telling you no. The squelching sounds from how wet you are, are so indecent that you’re barely able to focus on what you’re doing.
Your face is burning up and you feel dizzy from all the dirty things he’s doing to you. From how he’s spreading your slick all over your puffy pussy and making sure you hear how fucking wet you are for him. “For… Nnh, for being like this.”
“You’re sorry for being filthy?” He pauses for a second before he snickers at the way you jump when he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs it. “For getting drenched for your big brother?”
“Yes, I’m sorry for all of that. Ah, s-so sorry, Kib…!” Your legs are trembling and you’re turning into a panting mess from how he touches you now. Especially when you feel him press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
“It’s all right,” Kiba says. “I’m just as fucked in the head as you are. No need to cry ‘bout it.”
Your eyes are squeezing shut, a silent ‘Fuck!’ leaving your lips when his mouth makes contact with your soft cunt a moment afterwards. As his warm tongue laps up the sugary slick and you’re sent burying your face into the bulge you’ve never succeeded in pulling free, now in a weak attempt to fight back the most animalistic moan you’ve ever managed to produce.
You try to pay him back with clumsy groping and eager fondling. Try to concentrate on pleasuring the hardness that must certainly ache by now, despite that his hands are wrapping around your hips and he’s pushing you down; making your thighs tremble and your legs turn to jelly as his tongue starts prodding at your sopping hole.
But you simply can’t concentrate. Can’t focus enough to give him a proper blowjob when you finally do manage to pull his cock free from his sweatpants and boxers. And Christ, he’s so big. Throbbing, hot and so hard. All for you - his little stepsister. You can feel every vein as you drag your tongue along his length. As you grab him with both dainty hands and wrap your mouth around the sensitive head.
You can feel his fingers tighten around your hips by the time the salt of his pre-cum finishes melting on your tongue. You know damn well that he wants to say something bitchy and be a smartass about you taking so damn long to do it, but you just take him deeper down your throat to shut him up. Suck him harder.
And the feral groan he lets out right afterwards is like a reward. You relish the little whimper he voices when you start to pump and drool all over his dick, coating every inch with glimmering saliva. When you begin to suck him like a proper slut.
Time passes. What started with meek kitten licks has now turned into a full whorish blowjob, and you just know that he’s loving it. So much, in fact, that he’s quiet and keeps his witty remarks all to himself. It’s a blessing of sorts.
You’re nearly shuddering above him from how good he is at spoiling your clit. How every laggard swipe of his tongue feels like you’re touching heaven. He’s teasing you, not allowing you to cum; constantly keeping you leaning over the edge, but never quite tipping over. It’s like he knows when you’re close. Knows when to slow down his pace just enough to keep you there without going all the way.
You wonder why, wonder why he isn’t letting you erupt into pure bliss when he’s so good. And the answer is simple:
He wants you to cum on his cock the first time around.
So when minutes pass and he’s had enough, and you’re slobbering all over his dick; lazily sucking on it with slow movements of up and down and tasting him all over, he pushes you off with the lewdest ‘pop!’ and makes you roll onto your back and bend your knees until you’re lying down with both of your legs propped on top of his shoulders.
You’re wide-eyed as you stare up at him, trying to catch your breath. He’s so messy, your arousal coats his chin and mouth as he pants, t-shirt clinging to his torso, sweatpants just barely clinging to his hips, hair all askew and wild. He’s got one hand wrapped around your ankle, the other on your thigh.
You try not to let out a sound when he applies force to make you slide down the mattress so that he can pull you closer, but a tiny gasp still slips the moment he aligns himself with you.
“Enough of that,” he mumbles, expression stern, “I wanna fuck now.”
“Fu-Fuck…?”
“Yeah.” He squeezes your cheeks - his palm nearly larger than your face - and makes your lips purse. “Focus, airhead. What did you think would happen?”
What a savage brute. He hasn’t even fingered you properly yet and he wants to fuck? How the hell are you supposed to stretch wide enough to accept that enormous cock of his? Better yet, how are you supposed to handle it moving in and out of you?
“Condom,” you whisper dazedly, fingers curling around the bed sheet as you try to lift yourself up with the help of your elbows. “We need a condom. I’m not on-”
“It’s okay, I’ll pull out.” He presses his hand to your chest to push you back down on the mattress. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”
“Kiba, I don’t think-”
“Shut up.” You blink profusely at the sudden demand, pouty mouth quivering as he makes your legs bend even further when he leans in and presses his hand right next to your head. He kisses your calf, your ankle. “I’m your big brother… If I wanna fuck you raw, you should fuckin’ let me.”
You can feel him nudging your tight hole. Feel how wet, drenched and sticky everything is. How much it arouses you. And yet, you still try to put up a fight, despite that your toes are curling, “Kiba, I-I-...”
“Let me fucking in, y/n,” he says. “I mean, it’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”
Are you? You have no other choice. He’s just too good at reading you. So you do what he asks of you - what he demands of you.
You let him in.
And he laughs - laughs this awful, manipulative sort of snicker as he feels your soft cunt gush milky slick and suck him in. As he relishes yet another win, because he’s older, stronger; prevalent. The superior sibling that could turn your life into living hell if he wanted to.
“You’re so fucked up,” he whispers as he lets your legs slip from his shoulders to his waist so that he can rest his forehead against your own. He’s staring into your eyes, boring right into your very soul with that swirling amber as he adds quietly, “You’ll do anything just to get fucked by your big brother, huh?”
“Kiba, s-stop it.” You whine when he pushes in deeper; as he makes you burn in the middle from how he’s splitting you open. “Just… Stop.”
“What if your daddy hears? Hears you moaning like a lil’ slut ‘cause of me?” His pupils are so big, but you can’t keep looking at him because of how much it hurts from the way he sinks into your warmth and bottoms out. From how overwhelming it is as he stays firmly in place, making you take it. “I mean, shit, I’m not scared of him. But I know you are. He thinks you’re this godsend of a daughter, when in reality you’re just as dirty as me.”
“Stop talking…!” Your eyes burn with tears as you glare up at him. You don’t know if it’s because of the pleasure you feel as he stretches you out, or because of how badly he hurts you with his words.
“He’d be so disappointed in you if he saw you like this. Your boyfriend, too,” he continues, paying no mind to the way you start to squirm underneath him. “But that’s fine, right? The only thing that matters is that I approve of you. Even though it turns you into a cheating whore, hah.”
He forces you to look at him the same moment you try to turn away because of the guilt to flash throughout you. His hand finds your cheek, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh. You’re trying to fight against him, and you’re ashamed to admit it, but your heart flutters when he kisses you. When he forces his tongue inside your mouth so deep that you can taste yourself and you fall into this wonderfully submissive stillness in mere seconds.
He’s looking down at you now, the corners of his lips twitching from how into it you are, feeling his chest swelling up with pride and arrogance. He’s toxic, Kiba knows it, but he just can’t stop pouring his frustrations upon you that have gathered over the years. You’re like his personal punching bag. You’ll take anything he throws at you just because it’s from him.
“Feels good?” he whispers as he pulls back to kiss your neck. To trace his tongue all over your pulse point before sucking on it lightly. He’s promised that he’ll lick you all over, after all. Even if it leaves marks.
“Mhmmm,” you manage, completely out of breath from the way he slowly draws his hips back just to pummel them back into you even harder than before. It’s just missionary, the position rather vanilla, but it’s fucked up because you can see his face during it. You can kiss him and see all of him - your stepbrother.
And he feels just so heavy inside you. So thick and hot that it makes you incapable of speaking coherently. He’s got this dazed look on his face, the one only a warm cunt can give to a man, and you’re feeling absolutely obsessed because of it. Absolutely feral.
“I wanna fuck you until you can’t stand properly, princess,” he says quietly. “Until that cute pussy of yours is hurting so bad that you’re walkin’ funny and you can’t sit like a normal person during dinner. I want your dad looking weird at you. I want your stupid boyfriend getting suspicious of us.”
“No… K-Kiba...”
“I want that dunce to smell me on you the next time he fucks you.” His thrusts are getting harsher as he keeps whispering the most outrageous things into your panting mouth, fighting back a smile at the way you’re beginning to claw at his t-shirt in protest.
“No!”
“Yes. I want him to know your stepbrother fucks you better than him.”
You want to moan, to scream - do anything to release this pent-up fire within your veins, but he keeps you quiet by kissing you deep every single time you try to make a sound.
More time passes. He never stops or goes easy on you during it.
Both of your bodies are drenched in sweat. His thrusts are getting jerky, irregular. He’s been fucking you for nearly an hour, changing positions, melting his body into your own, reaching deeper than anyone ever has before.
And you feel so bad inside your mind for letting him do all of this, but your body feels twice as good as he does it. You’re burning up, all warm and tingly, toes curling, every cell absolutely spent as you keep clenching around him and leaking milky slick.
The first orgasm that he pulled out of you made you see stars. The second had made your jaw slacken as he fucked you from behind so hard you became one with the mattress and lost yourself, until he had to pat your cheek to bring you back to him.
By the third climax, you’re so, so tired. And he knows it, but he still makes you take more. Makes you take him entirely as he looks up at you and flashes you the most charming smile, even though he’s forcing you to ride him. Every muscle within your legs burns whilst you’re bouncing up and down his cock, but you try to endure the ache just so that he’ll be happy with you.
And you can tell that he’s close. His upper lip keeps quivering slightly and his dick is throbbing inside you; you swear that you can feel it getting hotter as it keeps stroking your sensitive walls.
It’s time you slipped off of his lap. Went down on him and swallowed every last droplet of cum he’ll give you.
Except that he doesn’t let you do that.
“Did I tell you to stop?” His hands find purchase on your hips when you try to pull back. He gives them a squeeze. Makes you keep bouncing as he gives you that same mischievous smile from before.
You’re growing nervous. The nerves make your muscles clench, thus making him groan in delight. “K-Kiba, you’re gonna-”
“Yeah… I changed my mind.” He looks at you, eyes dark. “Imma fill you up, pretty.”
His statement makes your mouth dry. What?!
“You can’t,” you cry out the moment realization hits, voice all hushed and petrified. “Y-You can’t, I’m not on the pill, Kiba. You can’t…!”
“Shh, I’ll drive you to the pharmacy first thing in the morning, yeah? I promise. Now keep quiet.”
“No, no, no, I-”
He uses force when you try slipping off of him, taking advantage of his strength to overpower you as he grips your hips and pushes you back into the mattress. You’re attempting to get away from him so feverishly now, trying to push him back by pressing your hands against his jaw and cheek, but he just won’t budge. He just grabs a hold of your wrists with one hand, clamps your mouth shut with the other.
“You’re gonna be a good little sister and take the load your brother gives you, ‘kay?” He’s nearly delirious from how good your pussy feels as it tightens around him and tries to milk him dry as he pushes in so deep he bullies your womb. “Mm, see? You’re cumming just thinkin’ ‘bout it, hah… You want my kids, or somethin’? Want me to breed you? Imagine how fucked up that would be… Hah.”
“N-No, m’not… Kiba! Kiba, please, I-...! I can’t-”
“Stop… Telling me… What I can and can’t… Do. For fuck’s sake, shut up.”
He doesn’t listen. What he does, though, is let out that delightful sigh as he uses you as his very own cocksleeve and forces you to bring him to his finish by pushing you up and down his dick. He rolls his eyes back and grunts in the same way your boyfriend has a habit of doing as he forces those thrusts out and tips over the edge. As he groans the sickest of profanities and feels his balls tighten until he’s finally done; filling you up to the brim, coating you entirely white with his thick, warm seed even though you’ve told him not to.
It makes it all the sweeter just because of that reason alone.
And you’re trembling underneath him, eyes closed as your own orgasm hits you. As you feel your tummy clench along with your walls, accepting every drop his cock gives you as it keeps twitching inside you. And he can’t stop moving. He’s lazily pushing it all in, pushing his cum even deeper like he actually wants you to get pregnant with his kid - his hand hard on your cheek and his mouth panting right against your neck.
“So good, fuck… You’re so good. We gotta get our parents to separate so that I can show you off.”
But the moment he lets you go and slips out of you, you’re pushing him away. Tears turn you bleary-eyed as you grab your clothes and put them on as hastily as you can, despite that your entire body is aching and screaming in protest. Despite that you're stumbling to the door with shaky legs and leaking his goddamn cum.
“Leaving so soon?” He’s smiling as he rubs at his eye, running a tired hand through his damp hair. “No cuddles?”
“Fuck you,” you say, sniffling and choking back the tears as you pull on your underwear.
He snorts, the sound derisive. Smug. “You just did.”
“I hate you.”
“Sure you do. So much that you came just now, right?”
He never gets to hear your answer. You’re out of his room before you can jump him and claw his fucking eyes out.
—
The only promise Kiba has kept so far is the pharmacy one.
His eyes are hidden behind the sleek sunglasses once more as he waits for you in front of the building that Saturday morning. He’s got one ankle leisurely crossed over the other whilst he stands; leaning against the hood of his car and smoking a cigarette that you hate the smell of.
Approaching him like this makes you feel like the whole thing never even happened at all. Some part of you thinks you’ve just imagined it all, but the soreness you feel all over your body tells you otherwise. As well as the morning-after pill you take right in front of him so that he’s satisfied.
“What’s this?” He yanks the small paper bag from your hands and pushes you away when you try to grab it back from him.
“I-It’s nothing. Hey, give that back!”
Kiba chuckles when he opens the bag and sees the box of protection you’ve bought along with the pill before he shoves it back into your arms. “You wanna tell me somethin’, sis?” You want more?
Heat engulfs your face as you hang your head and drop your gaze to the ground. “No.” Yes.
“Aha... Fine with me.” He takes one last drag of the cigarette before tossing it with a flick of his fingers. “Wanna get some ice cream? I’m off work today.”
“No.”
“C’mon.”
“No.”
“C’mooon, I’ll pay.”
Silence meets him. And then a meek, “... Fine.”
Kiba’s grin is so big it takes up half of his face as he ruffles your hair. “Good girl. Tell you what, I'll let you get any topping you want if you let me bend you over your desk tonight.”
And you know it’s fucked up, but your big brother's approval just makes you tingle all over again as you give him a curt nod.
TAGS/CONTENT WARNING ♡ humiliation, dubcon, knight! reader, vaginal fingering, power abuse ; fem! reader ; minors do not interact.
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“this is the special treatment i mentioned earlier, aren’t you happy you’re finally being my best knight?”
the way you whine show how much you were shying away from the stares, your nails digging on his thighs.
“but.. i didn’t think they would be here..”
you huffed, blinking away your tears— whining to kaeya and tell the other knights to go away. you’re just so cute, in training and out training, don’t know how much the other knights want to be in kaeya position and fuck your little cunny. the small ‘kaeya, don’t make them look me like this’ could be hear between your sobs, your fist wiping your wet heated cheeks, covering your pretty tits with your knees. the sound of their belts unbuckling makes you your heart shakes, their stupid groans emerged from their stupid mouth while they jerk their stupid cock from the sight of you drooling cunt drenching around kaeya.
“s'weird, k-kaeya.”
“but you’re the knights favourite, don’t you like being the favourite ones? you told me you like being my favourite knight,”
his hand kneading your soft mounds, tugging and rubbing your sensitive buds between his fingers. the high-pitched squeal echoes inside of his office, sending the other knights into euphoria while they play with themselves, eyes preying on your sweet glistening pussy getting stuffed by their superior.
“see, they all like you— isn’t this what you wanted?”
Gorou who humps you from behind. Can’t fucking help rutting his cock over your barley clothed ass like he’s in heat, hands twitching to rip your pj shorts off.
“Sorry, m’sorry i cant help it.” He groans, yanking your panties down so he can slip his cock between your folds. Drools over your shoulder, slobbering into your neck like a dog. Pants and groans while his bare cock thrusts messily between your slick thighs.
Arms wrapped around your waist, hands groping the plush skin as you tremble and shiver at the way his cock splits you apart but doesn’t enter. He laps at your jaw as an apology, caramel ears flattening over his head when the red tip of his cock catches your clit.
“You’re so wet, dripping. I know you wan’ this to.” He mumbles, incisors nipping at your skin. The sticky pre smears across your folds and makes you wetter. You know his tail is fucking wagging, smacking against his own back. He whines, hips jackrabbiting against you and missing your hole. His length pulsing against your clit makes you drool, thighs tighter against him.
Gorou humps you till he cums against your pussy, pressing the bright pink head that’s smeared in milky pre along the opening of your lips. Shooting ropes of cum against you till it drips along your thighs. You think he’s done, think that he’ll pull away. But you groan when he murmurs an apology and he’s still hard against your ass.
how do we feel about a threesome with osamu and atsumu 🤔
We feel very interested <3
a/n: So since this was gonna be dark content anyways as it's kind of incest, I said why not make it dark content if you have any other requests,,, pls send them in <3
THIS POST IS NSFW! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT or I'll bite.
warnings: incest, threesome, dub-con, non-con cuz reader is drunk, alcohol consumption, spitting,,, mentions of masturbation what else idk
Suna had the prettiest little sister.
One the twins grew up with- they'd run from you at any chance they had, with your big brother, too, of course, the mean trio that loved to make fun of you when you were little.
As a kid, two year age difference you had with your big brother and his friends meant too much to both sides, you were seen as a baby to make fun of, and they were these celebrities in your eyes.
As the years went on, and age started to mean less, they started to let you in the little circle more, talking with you without the mocking tone or the babying words, letting you hang out with them, not minding your naive words.
Especially looking at you now- all grown and going to college, the two year difference felt like nothing at all.
You were visiting your big brother for the college break, and you just couldn't say no when the twins had invited you and your brother to this party they were throwing.
"Come on, babe," Atsumu had laughed when you gave him an hesitant look, throwing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close to him, well aware of your breaths shortening with excitement.
It was no secret you had the biggest crush on the twins for years. You always seemed to favor Osamu just a bit, finding a way to be close to the more introverted twin, though it always took a few sweet words and a kiss on the chicken for Atsumu to lure you back and have your bright eyes and admiring gaze back on him.
"we'll catch up and everything." Atsumu almost mutters into your ear, making you shudder under his hold.
"We're gonna be there, anyway," Osamu had shrugged at you, quirking a brow as if to say, don't you trust us? "What are you worried bout?"
They were right, what were you worried about? They were who you grew up with, both of them you trusted with all your heart. And this was a chance to show them you had indeed grown up quite a lot, and no longer were the little girl they used to make cry.
Maybe— after all those years, wouldn't it be fun to find out if it was anything like all those nights you fantasized about?
"Ah, I don't know about that, sweet girl," a familiar voice speaks right behind you just as you're about to take a sip of the beer you're holding.
Before Atsumu can lunge at it, you manage to take a big gulp of the tangy liquid, smiling when he gives you a dirty look. As he pulls the can from you hands, Atsumu brings his hand up so you can't reach.
As you're jumping to grab your drink back, you're not even aware how close you suddenly got at the blonde, your eyes wide as he coos at you, laughing as his eyes look for your big brother. "Oi, Rin!"
Suna seems busy with a girl, pushing her hands away from his chest when he hears his name being called. "Can your sister drink?"
Suna seems unphased by the question, looking at you and back at him and shrugging. "I don't care." He mutters, turning back at the whining girl sitting on his lap. "She's a big girl, she can do whatever she wants."
Maybe if you weren't so busy with getting your drink back, you would've seen the wolfish grin that had spread on Atsumu's face.
But instead, you give him your innocent eyes and an adorable pout. "See?" You say, "I can drink!"
Atsumu apologizes with a grin, looking at Osamu, who is coming towards the two of you with shot glasses between his fingers. "I'm sorry, pretty girl, you're right." He leans in to press a soft kiss on your cheek, pulling you maybe a bit too close. "You indeed are a big girl."
You were right, and to show them, prove them, you just had to drink more. Gulping down the constant shots being handed to you, even when you got dizzy.
You dance around the room with a certain blonde holding you close, giving you more to drink as soon as you took your last sip, pressing his body flush against your overheated one. "Ya got real pretty, ya know."
Your swaying body enclosed by strong arms, you can only giggle at his words. "Ya like it?" You laugh, showing off your tiny skirt, losing balance and falling against his chest.
In a whirl of a second, you find yourself somewhere else, nestled on a lap, Atsumu's lap; he feels warm and sturdy beneath you. You reach for another shot of glass, you don't know why, you're already in the dumb state where everything feels funny, your body feels jelly.
You can't even sit upright on Atsumu's lap without his arms keeping you up; but still, you have a point to make, after all.
"Hey, hey— why don't you slow down?" Oh, Osamu is here, sitting right next to you, pulling the glass from your hands.
"Don't wannaa!" You whine, not aware how you're pushing your ass right on Atsumu's cock when you squirm like a brat. "I wanna- drink more."
"Fuck- stop moving." He orders in your ear, you eyes fluttering closed at the sudden image of him groaning when he sinks into you popping in your mind and making you press your thighs together.
The whole night, both the twins never had left you alone, dancing with you or having you on their arms like a pretty doll.
"It's okay, sweet girl," Atsumu pats your head, fingers tracing the skin of your cheek and sending goosebumps down your body. "We already know you're a big girl."
"I am!" You say proudly, grinning so wide, it's quite cute, really. If only you didn't press your tits on his chest like that, Atsumu mightve been able to keep his mind on how pretty your smile was.
"Yes you are." Osamu laughs. "You grew quite a bit." .
Atsumu's touch on your cheek grazes your lips, tracing them, spreading the touch of drool around your pretty face. Your eyes flutter close at the touch, hips moving right on his cock without even realizing how you're humping him.
When the swollen head of his cock presses against your clothed clit, your face tilts up and a silent gasp leaves your lips. "Fuck- look at her, Samu," Atsumu laughs, gripping your face to turn it towards his brother. "Look how dumb she looks humping me like a bitch."
"Always knew she was a whore," Osamu mutters gruffly, his hands close around your dainty neck, thumb dipping between your lips. "But never got to see it so close, have we?"
You mouth hangs open as drool trickles from the corners, Osamu keeps pressing on your tongue and making your silent gasp turn into louder moans and needy pleas.
You find yourself trembling under the hold of both twins, it suddenly feels colder- when did you take you top off, you wonder. Still the feeling of Atsumu's lips around your nipples is enough to make you forget the embarrassment of having your tits out like this.
He keeps kneading them harshly, teeth grazing on your nipples to make you cry out, your hips rutting on his cock when he does that. Osamu keeps playing around on your face, smudging your drool around your skin, forcing your mouth open until you feel something wet dripping in it.
"Now swallow it, pretty girl. Show me you like me enough to swallow my spit."
You already feel so dizzy, so light-hwaded and so- so turned on, you can't keep up with the constant, teasing touches, moans and mewls falling from your lips.
"I remember when you were little," Osamu says, hands roaming around the skin your skirt can't cover, gripping your chin to have your face inches away from his. Your breaths become shallower, quick and kurt as you press your legs together, something that makes both of them laugh. "You used to have the biggest crush on us. Was s' cute."
Your eyes fly open, embarrasment in your gaze as you stutter. "You knew about that?!"
"Of course, we did." Atsumu laughs, "I actually been wondering this whole night," Atsumu sucks on the soft skin of your chest and neck, leaving dark bruises on your skin. "Do you still moan my name at nights?"
Your voice comes out as a mewl when he sinks his teeth, Osamu's fingers pulling on the skimpy material of your soaked panties. "Or do you scream mine, now?"
"I- ah!" Osamu pushes on the damp cloth, right on your clit, making you feel dizzier than you already are. When you squirm on his lap, the man behind you groans loudly. "Fuck babe-"
"Don't tell me you didn't know we could hear you. Each night Suna snuck out, you would be awake- both our names coming from your room."
"Still think of it when I'm jerking off, ya know. Sounded that sweet, begging for me when I wasn't even there." Atsumu grins, leaving a wet kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Never got to thank for that."
"Always wondered how you fucked yourself with your fingers, you know." Osamu laughs, his hand palming himself over his pants. "Fuck-"
"Should I just fuck her already?" Atsumu groans at your dumbed out face, body sprawled over his like a mindless toy. "Nah- let her pick who she wants." Osamu turns to you instead.
"You'll pick me, won't you, dolly?" Atsumu coos at you, patting your cheek, "I promise I'll be nice."
"Oh, come on," Osamu pulls your face towards his, grinning against you, "you just swallowed my spit. I'm pretty sure that means I get to fuck this pretty pussy, ain't it?" Just when he says pretty pussy, Osamu deliberately pinches your clit to make you shout.
"-Don't know-" you whine, you don't wanna pick, you just want this feeling in your pussy to go away!
"Come on, babe, don't make us wait-"
"Dont- I don't wanna choose!" You whine, not really aware of what you've said when Atsumu grins mischievously.
"Oh?" He mutters, "so you pick-"
"Both!" You mewl without a second thought, and maybe you would've felt embarrassed if it wasn't for Osamu pinching your clit and making you gasp and moan loudly.
"Hear that, Samu?" Atsumu laughs, lightly tapping your cheek. "She wants us both."
"Shouldn't be surprised from a slut like her," the said man speaks degradingly, "a cock wasn't enough, is that it? You really think you can take us both?"
"I can-" you mewl, back arching when he lanse a mildly harsh slap on your panties and making you cry out. "Can take you!"
You're jutting your hips up to meet his touch, head falling back on Atsumu's chest, drool falling from the corners of your mouth. "Dont say that, you got it wrong." The blonde speaks. "She's just too good, Samu." Atsumu cups your cheek, cooing at your dumb face. "Wants to make us both feel good, isn't that right, sweetheart?"
"Yess-"
Atsumu's hands close around your waist, picking you up and putting you on the sofa on your back.
Osamu nudges your legs apart, pushing your skirt up, your clothed pussy finally visible to both of the man hard as fuck in their pants. The flimsy material stretching over your pussy, wet and sticky, Osamu pushes it aside, hearing your loud mewl when the pads of his fingers finally touch your skin.
"Will let us use you as we wish, is that right? Use you as our fuckhole? A worthless, idiotic little girl, tryna satiate both of us." He continues, words becoming sharper, kisses harder, your hands grabbing his wrists and sinking your nails in his skin with how overwhelming this all is.
"Yes! Yes I'll do anything-"
"How cute." He laughs as he works his pants off, ignoring your widening eyes look at his dripping cock and back at him, drunken mind trying to form words. "-'s too big!"
"I'm sure you'll be okay, dolly." Atsumu pumps his cock as he takes a step towards you, his cock head nudging against your lips, smearing precum and laughing when you open it to take him in.
Just as he does so, you feel prying hands around your waist, you can barely lift your head to see Osamu placing himself between your legs, his cock rubbing against your thigh.
"Aw, come on, babe," Atsumu laughs, "didn't you just say you'd help us?"
wld u have any input on perv!reo w an innocent/oblivious reader??
──✧ ˚ · “ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞
*.✧ ft. 𝐫𝐞𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞
*.✧ wc: 10.1k. nsfw & dark content / 17+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, characters are 18+ (but meet as teenagers), dub-con, slow burn, reo's a whore and a sleaze, manipulation, corruption, slight obsessive behavior, misuse of power (reader sees reo as kind of a brotherly figure), cunnilingus, reo's needy, mentions of taking unsolicited sex pics, panty stealing. // notes: reo is either a perv or a sub and there's no in between ! reo fuckers enjoy (☆ω☆)
the first time reo sees you, he’s barely fourteen and it’s in his family home, sitting straight in your seat at the dining table.
you look gorgeous with your big, curious eyes, long lashes, and a lip balm giving your pout a pink sheen. you’re different from all the other girls he’s seen around at school - you don’t try to look older, and actually look your age. a nice change for once. he steals a few glances upon your way from his seat diagonally across, fork digging into the tender steak on his plate. it was nice for a change to not be the only teen at the table, and actually, it was a bit surprising too. your parents were frequent guests at his house, due to the many links between their company and mikage corp, but this was the first time you tagged along. actually, reo doesn’t think he’s ever heard them mention having a daughter - but then again, his head is always anywhere but here, at the table, when the adults discuss over business details and joke around topics that make his head ache and confusion settle on his features.
“what about you, love? got any plans for the future?” reo moves his eyes from his glass of juice to his mother upon hearing her address you. she’s so sweet, just like always.
you blink once, twice, and nod quickly, “oh- oh, yes, actually. i want to help people.” you beam, the smile you’re sporting making your cheeks plump and full. “maybe, um, set up a foundation, or something? i dunno, like the one that organized the ball a week ago, right papa?”
reo has to hold back a roll of his eyes, the interest you first sparked in him long gone. now this was something he’s heard from about every other girl he knows - the other option either being fashion or a family company heir, just like him. you sound a bit clueless, too, the sheepish tone of your voice making you seem even more childish. (not like he’s grown up, of course, but then again, you’re even worse.)
despite how cute you are that day, reo doesn’t feel any interest in you whatsoever. the reason behind why you looked so innocent compared to his other friends, who already started to experiment with makeup and more mature clothing, doesn’t make it any easier to like you either. you are a year younger, and from what his mother tells him once you leave, your parents are very strict on keeping you unscathed by the pressure social media and society puts on young girls. now the thought of you hanging out at his place more often sounds so nohow, it doesn’t even make him excited to finally have some company. you seem immature and a bit naive, and while reo’s anything but aloof, he doubts that he’ll ever get along with you.
or, at least, so he thinks after the night you first meet. as expected, you start coming over to his place more often, now that a brand new deal between your families is about to be signed. while your parents discuss future plans over wine, reo is shocked to hear that for once, maybe he can show you around the house instead of sitting next to them and getting familiar with the investments.
you’re not actually that insufferable, reo realizes after several long hours of you hanging out together in his room. you have an older brother that’s a professional volleyball player now, and he sees the longing in your eyes when you mention him playing overseas. it sparks his interest, how your brother began his career when he was just about his age - he had everything a teenage boy could ever dream of, and yet, he’d rather move to the other side of the world to chase a dream that didn’t gave him any certainty. the more you talk, the softer and less infantile you seem - reo realizes that you actually do know a lot about worldwide humanitarian issues, a lot more than any other kid your age. he listens intently as you tell him about the things you like to do after school, about the many hobbies your parents put you on, and somehow, you manage to find a common ground. you talk and game and laugh for hours, until the night falls and your mum comes up to reo’s room to collect you.
reo gives you a little wave goodbye, and from now on looks forward to your visits - for a while.
years pass by, and while reo manages to keep up his spot on top of his every class, all while meeting up with friends and traveling the world with his parents, you just seem… the same. yeah, you got smarter - a scholarship from the states being the best proof - and prettier, too, which reo is sure other boys notice as well. but you still have this little dreamy edge to you, your laugh all too high pitched and random at times, and you still blush profusely whenever a boy comes anywhere near. you’re still nice, but just not as fun to be around; you're different, than him and the other girls he knows and starts to surround himself with. it’s not your fault either, as reo figures it must be your parents keeping you away from all the opportunities - better or worse - that teenagery has to offer. you’re busy with the scholarship now, thinking of going on a student exchange to the usa, even, and while reo sees it as praiseworthy, you two just seem to lose the common language you once had.
second year of highschool comes by, and you’re merely just a thought at the very back of reo’s head when he meets nagi. the two get along as if they’ve known each other their whole lives, even though seishiro needs a little (uh, maybe a bit bigger) push, and the friendship and newly found passion about football gets reo going. he doesn’t even see you around too often anymore, considering he’s barely at home after school, and even if he is, the time is spent on arguing with his parents. the only times he remembers about you is when you’re brought up by his father - a prime example of how one should take advantage of the privileges they were born into, instead of picking up a worthless dream. he knows you’ve got nothing to do with this, and yet still, the thought of you makes reo hurl.
reo doesn’t really miss you a lot during his time at blue lock - and he doesn’t think it’s anything harsh, considering you were barely good friends and only ever hung out when your parents did, and it was still long years ago, back before you two even properly hit puberty. there’s enough going on during the selections to keep his mind busy and muscles taut with stress - he doesn’t need any interruptions in getting to the top and so, the thought of you is pushed to the very back of his mind. it only ever changes the day of the u20 match, when the buzz of the blue lock’s team victory is still making his skin crawl and blood rush. he’s tired, his legs feel like jelly, and yet, he still makes out the familiar voice from the front row stands as he goes to leave to the locker room.
“reo!” he turns his head upon his name being called out, brows furrowed as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. he recognizes the sing-song voice, but the memory is a bit blurry as violet eyes scan through the crowd and eventually fall upon the hand vigorously waving around - moving down, they lock with your bright orbs, a vibrant grin on your lips.
to say that he’s surprised to see you is an understatement - he takes a quick glance around you to check if you’re there with your parents, but he sees that you’re in fact alone. must’ve been your idea now, wasn’t it? reo jogs over to the barriers, and only after closing the distance between the two of you does he notice the changes in your appearance that must’ve happened over the past few months.
he spots the way your features look way more mature now, and how you seem to finally have started to accentuate them with the right makeup. your skin still has the girly glow to it, though, or it might just be the wide smile on your face that’s lighting it up - either way, you definitely look even prettier than the last time reo has seen you, which must’ve been around his sixteenth birthday.
“you won!” you exclaim happily, leaning against the barriers and reaching a hand out to high-five him once he’s in arms reach. he’s a bit hesitant, but only out of surprise. “thought they would never bring you out,” you quip, watching reo roll his eyes. geez, thanks. “doesn’t your head hurt from that save?” your dainty fingers touch at reo’s reddened forehead, and it makes a foreign flutter wake in his chest.
“not really,” he shrugs, letting you ruffle his hair slightly. were you really that touchy with him these few years ago, back when you were children? he can’t recall. “what’re you doing here anyway?” he rubs at his eye, the other one glancing up at you curiously. from his spot under the bleachers, he has just the perfect sight of your cleavage - and usually it wouldn’t affect him in any way, but to his surprise, his gaze is met with bare skin. reo has to swallow thickly upon the initial startle, eyes momentarily locked with the gold necklace that he now remembers you wear even years ago - but this time, it rests right between the valley of your perky breasts, barely visible from the spot where your tits squeeze together. fuck - he knows that puberty can be a blessing sometimes. but could that really be the same you?
your voice brings him back to the present, gaze quickly tearing away from your chest, “i could finally see you play, reo! i never even heard you mention soccer,” you state, voice falling a bit near the end of the sentence. almost as if you regretted the way your friendship turned out. “do you still have the same number?” the question brings a hopeful tilt to your voice, and it makes reo smile a bit. there it is - the same awaiting, sweet sound.
“yeah,” he replies, looking up to lock his eyes with your doe ones. the clumpy, thick mascara on your lashes really does the trick, he thinks as he watches your lips stretch in a smile. “i don’t have my phone on me at blue lock, though - but we will catch up once i’m back, yeah?”
now you were not the only one that has undergone a major change throughout the years, and while reo didn’t look all that different, there was definitely a shift in his personality. yeah, he was still real sweet with everyone, barely ever getting into any fights or arguments and staying on good terms with pretty much everybody. he always could have any girl he wanted - could pick and choose from tens of them at school, and then everywhere else he went - and yet, not even one of them grew suspicious of the way he is. not one of his previous girlfriends or the ones he only hung out with once or twice seemed aware of how his eyes naturally rested lower than on their face when they spoke. they only grew giddier at the way his hands would grope at the soft fat of their tits, their hips, squeezing at their bottom in a way that made their head spin - in a way they’ve already heard from their friends, who also got lucky enough to catch reo’s attention. maybe they were also just glad that it was finally their chance, and didn’t give his hungry touches any second thoughts? maybe they really did think that he was just like all the other horny teenagers, buzzing with hormones, and that his long days of practice only spurred him on even more. sometimes, reo was surprised, even, at how quickly they would respond to his sly texts, a picture attached with no trace of shame. did they ever let the thought of him keeping these pictures linger, or were they really just this dumb?
the more recognition he gets thanks to the blue lock project and neo egoist league, the larger his range of possibilities grows. there’s girls flooding his dm’s, his name being thrown around different thirst tweets, and yet, it’s not like reo’s not used to it already. he's turned eighteen barely a few months before the blue lock project, and so he's already had plenty of time to finally let up all of this pent up tension. he meets up with a few girls during his breaks, spends the night, and is off early morning - with a pair of lace knickers in his back pocket, if he’s lucky (and the girl oblivious enough). some of them don’t even notice the flash going off as they ride him, their back to his face, taking just a little memoir to keep locked under a passworded folder in his gallery - something that he can play back in his mind, when he’s back at the blue lock facility, alone in the showers.
between his little hook ups, he still finds the time to keep his promise - and drives over to your house, which he is a little surprised to find with no sight of you the first time he comes by. “oh, she’s living on her own now! had to move closer to her university.” oh. "she'll be so happy to see you, though, reo! it's been ages since i've seen you, too." to say that he’s shocked by your mother’s words is an understatement - hell, you could even fly a private helicopter to uni each and every day if you only ever wished for it - so did your parents, always so overprotective, really let you move out and start living by yourself? nonetheless, reo is actually kind of content to be hanging out with you again. (the way you carry yourself, so soft and sweet as if your looks weren't enough to fill any guy's thoughts with pure filth, might just be the main reason.) he learns that you got into the university of tokyo on top of the acceptance list and are floored with not only work, but also the uni life that everyone else has been telling you about. ah. so that’s where the sudden change in looks came from, he realizes as you tell him about how happy you were that your best of friends managed to get in with you.
“she’s so cool! i think you would’ve liked her, reo,” you tease, a grin on your lips as you tell him about one of your friends and even go to show him her instagram pictures. he hums, “yeah, she's-" "if only she wasn’t into older guys.” you elbow him in the side with a giggle, and it makes him wonder how to wrap his head around the dissonance you’re giving him.
reo starts to feel less and less surprised with the way you turned out the more you tell him about the girls you befriended in high school, and then the ones you were hanging out with in your sorority house as well. you’ve always been kept in a bubble, as your parents’ greatest treasure - their sweetest little girl, as if you weren’t in your golden age to start experimenting with life and all it had to offer. it was honestly only a matter of time until you slipped away, the blinders your parents wore making them oblivious to your newly born adventurous nature. she’s not like that, he bet they’d say. have you seen her? she’s as innocent as they get! how the hell you managed to stay just that way, reo couldn’t figure out for the life of him. you’re wearing the skimpiest skirts he’s seen on a girl in a long time, your tits spilling out of your top, lashes curled to the heavens and yet, when you look at him, you have the same childish excitement in your doe-like eyes - and it feels as if you haven’t grown at all from when he first met you.
you were never really insufferably dumb to begin with, and reo knows that. your parents made sure you got the greatest education possible and you were a straight A student, keeping interest in many fields - starting from finances and economics, through arts and finishing at high tech. maybe that’s what makes it so appealing and easy to talk to you, spending long hours on bickering and discussing, even though your mind seems so, so much more innocent than his - hell, than any other girl’s your age, too. whenever he slips a dirty joke in the conversation, you frown slightly, a pout on your lips as if asking, what do you mean, reo?, and it doesn’t make any sense to him. yet again - how can that be possible, with the way all of your little friends are carrying themselves?
you start spending more time with each other, considering how close your condo is to the blue lock facility, and it becomes a little routine for him to come right over to your place whenever he gets a few days of break. you spend the time watching tv shows, stuffing your face full of snacks, going to the arcade and gossiping about reo’s teammates or whatever one of your girlfriends did since the last time you two have seen each other.
“m’so happy we’re friends now, reo,” you mumble one night, curled up to his side on the couch, nearly dozing off with some random action movie playing from the flat screen tv. “y’remind me of him so much, yanno?”
ah, so there it is - the reason behind you always staying hooked to his arm. even though you were coming from a very similar background as him, reo was still a little more experienced in life - having seen more, thanks to the blue lock, among other things - and after all, he was a year older than you, wasn’t he? he carried himself with this confident, yet playful smile all of the time, and made everyone in his company feel warm - very much like your older brother did. thanks to him (or more like your stories about him), reo manages to get a good glimpse at how a sportsman’s life really looks like - how even though your family was so close, his visits happen thrice a year at most, and it leaves you missing him so bad, he even has to comfort you and wipe away your tears on one of your movie marathon nights.
sometimes, it seems like there’s two sides to him. one, that makes every girl’s knees buckle at just one glance; and the other, showcased by a bright grin and giddy behavior. either way, reo doesn’t really think of himself badly. it’s not like he’s doing any of it against the girls’ wishes, isn’t it? some would even consider it a good deed, even, he’s pretty sure, with the way he’s the very first one to be touching them that way, taking their innocence away. the only time he ever starts to feel guilt eating away at his insides is when the same filth spills all over his mind, clouding over his senses whenever you are around.
it’s been a year since the neo egoist league has ended - a year full of you, amongst soccer and other things that tore his mind and body down with exhaustion. movie nights, adventure parks, helping you study, going to frat parties with you, even - cause none of the girls are comin’, reo, please, just this once! - as if he really needed any convincing to come. some of the guys there were his high school friends, he realized, and so the thought of catching up with his old colleagues made the party even more appealing. (not to mention the tens of girls that would kill to have him lick the salt off their tummy, the tequila on his tongue bringing a bitter taste to their mouth as they kissed later - one of his favorite party activities, honestly, considering how hard it made him in his pants.)
the first time it happens, reo’s by the makeshift bar, chatting up with a friend he used to sit with at chemistry lab as he pours them a drink - and his head lazily tilts to the side upon hearing your voice calling out to him.
“reo!” you sound as excited as always when addressing him, and he has to chuckle at the way you stumble over your own feet as you strut over to his spot by the bar. “reo, we’re- we’re playing beer pong. wanna team up w’me?”
the amused laughter dies down in his throat as his eyes zero in on your cleavage, the fat of your tits jiggling with each step you hurriedly take towards him. he sees the slight sheen of sweat, watches the way it reflects the neon lights, how it accentuates the glitter of the body spray you put on right before you left the house. reo is glad he has his hand stuck in his pocket, cause now he can quickly fix his hardening dick without making it suspicious - he gives himself a slight squeeze and clears his throat as you approach him.
you smell of coconut, and the scent overwhelms his senses as soon as you press yourself up against him - a giggle leaving your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to press a wet kiss to his cheek.
“pretty, pretty please? y’know i’ve never ever played it, and if i lose it’ll make me a loser, won’t it now, reo,” you babble on, a laugh leaving your mouth as his friend gives your nose a flick. he must’ve told you something amusing, reo supposes, but the both of you are drowned out as blood thuds in his ears - as it throbs in his pants, cock aching by how ridiculously hard it got at the feeling of you pressed up against him. he feels your tits as they squish against his chest, feels the rumble of your laughter, the flutter of your lashes against his neck-
“‘xcuse me,” he mumbles, hurriedly, and pries your arms off - earning a surprised look from you (and a cute drunken stumble). making his way through the crowd, the smell of spilled liquor and sweat and mixed perfume makes his head even dizzier, to the point that he’s stumbling into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
one hand works on turning the lock while the other undoes the button of his plaid gray pants, a shaky groan slipping past his lips at the crumb of relieved tension. he dips a hand past the waistband of his boxers and pulls his throbbing cock out, thumb smearing the milky white pre-cum all around the reddened tip as he grabs onto the sink tightly for support.
“shit,” reo nearly whines at the image playing out in the very front of his mind. it’s almost like he can still inhale you, feel you as the heat of your body against his turns his legs to mush. he bites down on his lip, hard, in an attempt to quiet down the needy gasps that leave his mouth every so often, with every jerk of his hand. he tightens his grip on the porcelain, wrist flicking hurriedly and it makes him squeeze his eyes shut, strands of violet hair falling over his forehead as he groans quietly. please, pretty please, reo. it reverbs in his ears, but this time, it’s breathy, needy - as he imagines you giving him your prettiest wide eyes, tears sticking to your lashes, mascara running down your cheeks as he holds your thighs wide open, watching the way your pussy struggles to fit him in-
“ah- fuck, take it-” a mewl-like sound catches in his throat, toned abs spasming as white spills all over the bathroom sink. he struggles to catch his breath, hips needily thrusting into his hand as he rides out the high that leaves a loud ringing in his ears. throwing his head back, he groans softly as he feels the thick cum pool on his fingers, dripping down onto the pearly white porcelain - staining it with filth.
it takes him a breather to finally flutter his eyes open, the bring white light stinging the bloodshot orbs - and he hums to himself, softly, a sigh following soon after as his shoulders relax. he lets go of the edge of the sink and instead turns the faucet on, cleaning his hands off any filth and patting any residue off his cock with a paper towel in relative silence. a random tune booms through the speakers outside, but the bathroom door do their job mellowing it out as he cleans after himself, taking his time to fully come down his high.
the realization only hits him when he’s finished zipping his pants back up and about to fix his hair, glancing up at the mirror - and sees the red tint on his cheeks and blood clinging to the torn skin of his bottom lip, glossy eyes staring right back at him.
maybe he is a bit fucked up, after all.
you wake up in your bed the next morning, a glass of water along with a tablet of aspirin left on your bedside table. loser :p, the note stuck right next to it says, and you honestly wish you remembered what the little joke is about.
“this is so embarrassing,” you whine into your pillow a few hours later and reo chuckles under his breath at the way your legs kick out, body overcome with shame. “i can’t remember a thing! i don’t know what i was even doin’ most of the night,” you mumble, eyes almost teary as you pull your face away to give reo a discontented look. he hums softly, glancing over at you just for a split second before focusing back on the stocks on his phone screen.
“see, that’s why i told you not to drink this much.” he says matter-of-factly, “you’re lucky i was there. you never know who’s at the party with you, kiddo, so you need to stay aware at all times.”
now, reo has to admit that the sight of your eyes glazing over with tears, a subtle pout on your lips, shouldn’t be making him feel as hot as it does - and yet, he continues, and digs the hole underneath you even deeper.
“there’s many bad guys around and you know it,” he mumbles, lilac eyes momentarily catching yours. you gulp and pull your knees up towards your chest for comfort, tears of shame tingling at your lashes. “you’re a smart girl, after all, yeah?”
were the things he said true? definitely - especially for such pretty and sweet girls like you, too good for your own good. but were you really in any danger last night, with him keeping an eye on you the whole time (except for his little… getaway)? not really - but seeing the anxious expression on your face was worth it. sometimes, it made reo feel like he should just grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you had to grow up eventually, for your own safety and comfort. but then again, he doubted it’d even work anyway, and besides, the adrenaline rush he experienced each and every time he instilled a crumb of fear in your heart was just too good to let pass.
it does feel good to have you cling to him even tighter, after all, he figures as you climb on his lap weeks later asyou two hang out in the evening. your hair blocks his view of the game he’s watching, but it only takes a little squirming for you to get fully comfortable and allow him the full look on the tv screen.
“who’s playing today?” you chime in, leaning forward to grab a handful of popcorn. reo’s voice catches in his throat, unable to help the way his eyes cast down, to where your ass is pressing firmly against his crotch and thighs. the waistband of your shorts sticks away from your flesh, allowing him to take a peek of the thin elastic of your thong - bright purple, just like his eyes. it makes him shudder.
“real madrid and barcelona,” he mumbles, clearing his throat and his hand almost flies down to cup his growing bulge in a weak attempt to hide it. the idea dies down in his mind as soon as he realizes your full attention is on the screen, soft hums leaving your mouth every so often along with little comments about the play. you’re absolutely oblivious to his cock prodding at your bum, hard on pressing right against the fat cheeks and aching. some would say it’s embarrassing how quickly reo could stand to full alert, but honestly… who wouldn’t, right? he shifts in his seat, an arm reaching to rest on the backrest of your sofa. he tries, really fucking struggles to keep his eyes on the screen as well, but your small sounds of excitement or frustration make it near impossible. you fidget slightly,
“ah! it hit the pole,” you mumble, brows knit in focus and hands resting on top of reo’s knees, bare and bruised up from the hours of training. reo closes his eyes, deciding to try his luck - and he bucks his hips up, slowly, as to not scare you off his lap. instead, he’s met with silence - and he glances at you shortly, just to make sure.
he has just the perfect view of your back, skin smooth and glowy, and his hands itch to rest on the curve of your waist. experimentally, he places a hand on your side, and feels you shiver under his fingertips.
“your hands are cold,” you whine, but instead of pushing it off your bare skin, you do the thing he doesn’t even dare to dream of right now - you squirm. reo moves his other hand to his mouth, leaning back into the plush sofa as his hips do the very contrary and thrust up against you.
you don’t seem to acknowledge how uncomfortable the position generally is, how it should be for any other male friend whose lap would be occupied by you. instead, you lean forward slightly, hips rolling against reo’s crotch just slightly, and you sigh softly as you give his knees a gentle squeeze.
can you really be this oblivious? honestly, it’s hard to tell which thought makes him harden more - you just putting up a little facade and actually just teasing him by this point, or, which is more likely considering your sweet nature - you being truly, absolutely unaware of how your fidgeting was making his dick throb and ache. the sounds of the game are long forgotten, barely a haze in reo’s mind, as blood pumps in his ears and mouth salivates at both the sight and sensation on you almost bent over on his lap. he feels your dainty fingers tap against his knees mindlessly, or giving his flesh a gentle squeeze whenever you tense up in excitement over the match. he has to lean his head back, eyes closed and teeth nearly sinking into his hand as to not make a sound.
he rolls his hips up against your bum languidly, the friction sending sparks down his thighs, and it feels heavenly. he thinks of how your small hands will feel as they rest in the same exact place as now, but instead, they work as support when you lower yourself down on his cock. he wonders how you’d squeal if he grabbed at your ass, left his hand prints all over the soft flesh, setting a rhythm for you to ride him. for a second, it even occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pushed himself to make a move, the little sleepover with your best friend really could end up with him splitting you open on his dick.
reo hears his breath hitch in his throat, the familiar tension in his abdomen growing stronger, and it urges him to grind against you just a bit faster. upon realizing that you really are absolutely oblivious to how he’s using you to get off, it seems like most of his limits broke loose. (it’s not like anything would happen if you ever did find out, though, right?) his cock throbs and pulses against the thin gray boxers, pre-cum already sticking to the material and it feels fucking disgusting, but so good. he tips over his climax, eventually, hips stuttering beneath you and just as he feels the first spurt of cum soak into the soft cotton, you let out a gasp, and jolt in his lap.
the sensation is enough to make reo’s eyes widen, a choked groan leaving his lips at the way your ass rubs down on him just perfectly, as if helping him ride his high out. his head feels airy as he listens to your little squeal of excitement mix with the sports announcer’s lively comments, the sound tuned out and barely a buzz in his ears. the sticky and thick cum pools in his boxers, and he wonders if you really cannot feel the obvious wetness through the material of his shorts.
you shift in your seat on his lap, ripping a groan from his throat at the way you press down against his overstimulated cock. turning around to give him a puzzled look upon the sound, the sight of your eyes wide and bright almost chokes reo up.
“you okay?” you ask, a hand reaching towards his face to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. you don’t seem to notice the way perspiration clings to his brows as you touch him.
he gives a nod, swallowing down the saliva that pooled in his mouth, before clearing his throat.
“yeah,” he speaks, and he’s surprised how collected he sounds for someone who had just creamed his pants. his eyes follow the screen, watching the player’s goal from a minute ago replay and it’s actually a little silly how lucky he is to get such a good cover, in fact, as he watches the camera zoom in on his favorite club’s goalkeeper and his sour expression. “just really want barca to win, s’all.”
reo gives up on the hope of you finally growing more self-aware anytime soon when a few more months pass and yet, you still don't notice how your panties would disappear from the hamper or how reo has to excuse himself from the room when you're around - only to come back minutes later, eyes glossed over.
you're starting to make it hard for him not to make a move, and he's honestly stunned that he went so long without finally having his way with you. hell, he even brings you along to the small weekend trip he's came up with, just before the new u20 squad was to be announced. the blue lock team deserves some relaxation before the season starts, even if it is barely a few days, and you do too, considering you had just finished your finals (on top of your class as always). and so, he brings you with him and the rest of the guys and their partners - who at first ask how long you two have been together and then give a surprised look when you laugh, oh! oh no, reo's like a brother to me, really! (something about his longing looks and the way he'd grab your hips tells them different, but oh well, that's not any of their business, right?) the sight of you in all the skimpy bikinis, skin glowing with the tanning oil and cheeks kissed by the sun might just be the breaking point - or at least, one of them, the other being you, going on a date with one of his teammates, and getting your little heart broken.
the sight of you on his doorstep, head hung low and soft little sniffles sounding through the rain outside, is a shock indeed - and reo only has it in himself to coo softly as you stumble right into his arms.
"hey- hey, what's goin' on?" he tries to pull you back from his chest, but the grip you have on his waist is surprisingly strong. instead, he reached for the handle and clicks the door shut, hands moving to rub up and down your arms afterwards. "what happened, bunny?"
your shoulders tremble once, nimble fingers tightening on the material of his white tee. "don' wanna talk," you mumble, and reo wraps his arms around your shoulders, lips pressing to the crown of your head soothingly.
"okay," he mumbles, breathing in the all too familiar scent of your shampoo mixing with the sweet, sticky coconut of your perfume. it brings him back to the frat party months earlier - and makes heat pool in his stomach, even now, as you're sniveling against his broad chest. "i'll run you a bath, okay? you'll get sick."
you don't have it in you to refuse, and in a span of an hour, you're already curled up in the middle of reo's bed, wearing a spare pair of your joggers and one of his sweaters. there's two half-empty cups of ginger tea on the bedside table, and you lay on your side, knees hugged to your chest as you ramble.
reo stares at your face as you speak in a hushed tone, propping his head up on his hand, the other busy with rubbing small circles into your hip. he knows it's bad, god, he knows it's fucked up, but he feels his abdomen tighten at the sight of crystal tears sticking to your lash line.
"and then i said..." you take in a breath, bottom lip jutted out. "said that i- i don't want to do it anymore. that maybe we shouldn't after all, so he got annoyed and tried to change my mind, but-" you cut your rambling off at the silence you're met with, eyes glancing up to check on reo's expression.
he's always been an attentive listener, but this time, the silence almost sounds different. the boy hums, and tugs you a little closer to him. "shouldn't do what?" he inquires; and if it wasn't for the tears smudging your vision, you would've noticed the way he swallows thickly.
you feel your cheeks heat up and scrunch your nose, shaking your head. "you know what, reo," you mumble and he has to force back a sly smile. you're so shy, and now also slightly shaken still from what happened mere two or three hours ago. "i told you already.."
you trail off, the topic clearly bringing you discomfort and yet, reo doesn't drop it entirely. you've grown used to him being so thorough in your conversations, but this time, it makes you fidget slightly.
of course he knows. god of course he does, and the thing keeps him awake some nights, especially after he's scored a goal or two and he has to blow off some steam.
reo's well aware that you've never been with a guy. you've kissed a few of them, yeah, sure. you could've even made out with them, had their tongues down your throat - but you were still innocent, in more ways than one. you were drop dead gorgeous, and yet, the way you would be absolutely oblivious to other guys advance's still hadn't changed one bit since you were barely a young teen. maybe that's why you've never had a man grope you, please you, ruin you - make you stumble over your own feet the morning after.
he's wonders if you've even ever thought of it - if you ever desired to be played with.
"i know," he chuckles slightly and dips his hand under the hem of the thick sweater draped over your waist. a thumb starts to smooth tiny circles across your flesh, mimicking the gesture from seconds before. "i know, bunny. but i've told you already, didn't i, how there's plenty bad guys around." he points out, hand giving your waist a slight squeeze upon feeling you tense up. "why didn't you tell me that you were meetin' someone, hm?"
you can't stand the intensity of reo's violet eyes boring into yours, and so you only give a slight shrug and avert your gaze, "i dunno, reo. just wanted to try something new." you admit, the words now sour on your tongue and you know that this'll be the last time you ever try to go out of your comfort zone for a long, long time. "everyone already did it. i stick out." you grumble, expression soft even as you frown.
your words don't leave him undisturbed - in fact, the expression on reo's face doesn't give out any of the things he's thinking about. if it did, he's sure his eyes would turn black with greed, and he'd most probably drool over the thought of him being the one you turned to instead-
oh.
"why didn't you just ask me?" reo sits up slightly, the arm used to support his head up now straightened. you look up at him, hand itching to brush the hair out of his face - something you seem to always do whenever he has his hair down - but the intensity of his gaze leaves you flustered enough to back down.
"ask you?" you squeak out. it's cute how shocked you sound, reo thinks.
"yeah, why not?" his hand moves further up, warmth resting on your ribs now, just barely below the swell of your breast. you're not wearing any bra - of course you aren't. it's not like you've ever thought of being the slightest bit embarrassed in front of him - not like you've ever noticed how he had to fix his boner at the glimpse of your nipples perking through the shirt you would wear at one of your sleepovers.
the feeling is so unfamiliar, it makes your head dizzy. you and reo have always been touchy with each other - but it's because you were best friends, and it was your way of keeping close, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. but now, as he looks at you with such intensity and pushes on the topic that brings you so much embarrassment, the touch seems out of place.
"you know that your first time is really important, right? you'll compare all of your next boyfriends to this," reo hums, giving your flesh a light squeeze. "s'why you have to be real careful who you're pickin' to be your very first, doll." eventually, he pushes himself up straight, and it feels like the air around you has thinned and finally, you could breathe free again.
"still- wouldn't that be... weird, if i asked you to?" you prop yourself up on your elbows and you're surprised you even managed to force the words out. your heart hammers inside your chest, "we're best friends..." you mumble, and reo shrugs - nonchalantly, as if the ache in his boxers wasn't driving him crazy.
"that's what best friends are for," he points out and reaches a hand towards your ankle, fingers gently skimming along the delicate skin. it makes you shiver and fidget slightly as he massages along your calf. "it's nothin' weird. i could just help you out, so you know what you like and how to make a guy feel good, yeah?" you roll your head to the side, face burning. this sounds insane - reo, your sweetest best friend that almost feels like an older brother to you, telling you how he can be your first. what's worse, no matter how uncanny it feels, it surprisingly doesn't raise any objections in your mind.
you must be silent for a short while, because soon he drums his fingers against your knee. (you didn't even notice when his hand moved upwards, and how good it feels.)
"hey, we don't have to," not now, at least. but god, it's getting so exhausting to hold himself back. "but it would be easier for you that way, bunny.. you trust me, don't you?" your heart pulls in your chest at the words, teeth sinking into your bottom lip and reo almost feels sorry for how he's messing with your head.
but honestly, he's not even trying to - after all, he's just saying the truth. if only you gave him the green light, he could show you so much. he knows you better than anyone else, better than any guy out there ever will. he could make you feel things you didn't know were even possible, pull sounds from you that would make you blush with embarrassment. all he needs is just a chance.
the quiet rustling of the sheets brings him back from the train of thoughts and the sight of you, legs slightly spread in front of him, eyes glossed over and cheeks reddened, is enough to choke him up.
"f'course i do," there's a slight whimper to your voice, breath soft as your chest heaves. "s-so, reo, please..."
a grunt catches in his throat as he grabs your ankles, gently, and pulls you towards him - hands immediately moving to roam up your middle. goosebumps rise along your skin, back arching slightly, and you glance up as reo wraps your legs around his hips.
"will make you feel good," he promises, breathily, as he leans down. you can see how blown his pupils are - the pretty violet barely a halo around the black by now. he licks his lips, gaze darting towards yours, but goes to vocalize his question anyway. "can i?"
you would've answered, but the close proximity between you two and the way you can feel reo's soft breath his your mouth makes you act before you can think. you lean in, lips pressing against his in a chaste kiss, and carefully cup his face in your hands.
reo moans into your mouth, shameless, and brings one large palm to rest back on your hip to grab at the soft flesh. you're so sweet, so gentle - treating him with reserve still, but it feels heavenly anyway. just the way he always imagined.
his tongue slips into your mouth, a surprised little sound muffled against his mouth, as he deepens the kiss languidly. your head spins at the feeling of reo's warm tongue, sliding against yours and lapping lazily, fingers lacing together at the nape of his neck. you're pulling him closer, ankles locking behind his hips as he presses himself against you.
there's a bashful mewl slipping past your lips as you feel reo's hard cock rut against your clothed core.
"you're so pretty," he breathes into the kiss, breaking it as he pulls away just slightly, enough to look at you. "see? you're makin' me feel so good, bunny, and we're just kissin'." he grabs your hips with both of his hands now, moving them against his crotch.
the feeling reminds you of when you'd touch your little pussy yourself - late night, under the covers, when the tension and warmth in your tummy would just get too much. but never, ever would you ever think that someone else rubbing at your sweet spots could feel this good. your clit throbs against the cotton of your sweats, and it's almost as if reo feels it at the way he grinds your hips against his harder.
"reo-" you gasp, hand grabbing at his bicep 'cause it's starting to feel like too much. his hands are firm and heavy, holding you against him and handling you however he likes - however he seems fit. it's good, but you have a feeling that it might get even better.
"i know," he coos, chuckling at the way your eyes flutter when he pulls away. he gives your - well, his - sweater a tug, "take it off for me, doll."
you give a small nod and quickly work on taking the clothing off, the air cold against your heated skin. you shiver slightly, both from the change in temperature and the way reo looks at you.
he sighs shakily, hands moving to rest on your waist before slowly moving up and grab at your breasts. you lull your head back into the pillows, the feeling of reo's warmth palms making you shudder. it's new - you've never had anyone touch you like that, ever - and makes warmth pool in your abdomen.
"fuck," you hear him whisper under his breath as he massages at the plush of your tits - fingers experimentally giving a pinch to one of your nipples. you whimper at the feeling, jolting slightly, "fuck, feel how they fit right in my hands?" he flexes his fingers on the flesh for emphasis. "like they were made f'me." a soft groan leaves his mouth, before he leans down and wraps it around your areola.
your eyes widen slightly at the tickling sensation, reo's tongue warm and heavy against your hard nipple, and your back's arching off the mattress before you can register it.
there's a hand slipping past the waistband of your sweatpants, rough fingertips skimming against the skin of your abdomen, just right above your pussy. your hips stutter and chest heaves, making reo moan out at how you stuff his face full with your tits. you're so fucking needy, and you don't even seem to notice. your body acts on it's own, natural and by instinct upon feeling so much pleasure all at once, and it makes his head spin.
he gently dips a finger between your folds, drawing a little circle against your hole and his breath hitches in his throat at the way wetness oozes right out. he pulls away from your chest, a thick ribbon of saliva connecting his reddened lips with your nipple, and looks up at you.
there's one of your forearms resting over your eyes, lips fallen apart as soft little moans slip past. you only pull your arm away from your face when his hand pushes your pants down and doesn't return to it's previous place between your thighs - instead, he taps his fingers on your lips.
you look up at him, eyes tentative, as he breathes out, "lick them for me, baby. so it doesn't hurt."
he knows damn well that you're wet enough to manage a finger or two, even if it is your very first time taking something longer and thicker than your dainty fingers - but the sight of you obediently parting your lips, tongue lolling out to lap at his digits before softly suckling is worth the lie.
reo feels his cock throb as he watches you, intently, as you circle your tongue around his fingers and struggle to fit them in your mouth past his second knuckle.
"good girl," he croons and gives his hard on a firm squeeze through his sweats, just a little something to relieve the painful pulse. your eyelashes flutter momentarily, blood rushing to your cheeks, and he can't help but push his fingers deeper.
you choke slightly, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden intrusion as you feel saliva pool in your mouth and dribble past the corner of your mouth.
"open your eyes," you can barely hear reo speak over your quiet choking. "look at me."
you force your eyes back open, vision blurry with tears as you try to catch eye-contact. tears pool at your lash line as finally, he retracts his fingers from your mouth and pulls his hand away entirely, satisfied.
you sputter, gasping for air, and feel reo's other hand rest on your cheek. he wipes your tears away with a thumb, cups your face in his palm gently and sighs.
"see- that's what other boys would do if they saw you like that," he soothes, voice warm as usual and it brings contrast to his words. "s'why you have to be careful, bunny. don't want anyone to be rough with you, don't you?"
you shake your head quickly, throat still burning and scratchy as you look up. he really does look almost worried, with his eyes soft and focused on you entirely - but it almost seems like there's a haze behind the lilac.
you don't dwell on it too much, 'cause there's already a finger rubbing against your slit again, and this time it slips right in. the sensation isn't entirely new to you - you've played with yourself before, after all - but reo's fingers are so much thicker and longer than yours, feel so rough, and seem to press against your sweet spot almost instantly. you moan sweetly, hips bucking against his hands involuntarily as his fingertip rubs against the front of your pussy. it tightens around his finger, makes him dip it even deeper.
"right there?" he asks breathily, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it's enough of an answer. your tummy spasms slightly as you suck in a breath, hips starting to grind against his hand. there's another finger prodding at your entrance, teasingly, before slipping right in next to the other. "wanna see if you can handle two."
there's a slight stretch and burn as you try to accommodate to the girth of reo's fingers, much wider than anything you've ever played with and it is giving you a small struggle. you whimper and shift your hips, hand moving to push at his wrist instinctively.
"can't," you moan out, swallowing thickly as reo gives you a look - almost disappointed, yet intrigued at the same time.
"you've never had anything other than your fingers playing with this little pussy, didn't you?" it comes out as a slight groan, and you turn your head to the side to avoid his gaze. even as you act so sheepish, the slick that coats reo's fingers tell him enough - you're enjoying this.
you're getting off on listening to your best friend talk so sweetly about your pussy, playing with your body how he pleases.
you gulp heavily as you feel his weight shift on the bed, one arm resting across your abdomen and pinning you down firmly. and then, you feel a hot breath fan across your wet cunt, throbbing and creaming for attention, before he takes a long lick up your clit.
your hands grab at reo's hair, fingers tightening to tug and it vibrates against your pussy as he groans. "fuck," you whimper, and he chuckles breathlessly.
"watch your mouth," he muses, humored, before wrapping his lips around your throbbing little clit.
your eyes roll backwards, head pushing into the pillows and you have to bite back a cry at the overwhelming pleasure that seems to hit you all at once. it makes your muscles tremble and head spin how reo seems to work the same exact spot with both his fingers, massaging and thrusting inside, and his tongue, messily and hungrily slurping away. your hips stutter, but don't lift off the bed whatsoever as he keeps them stuck to the mattress with his arm, whining against your heat.
"you can- you can tug," he breathes, purple eyes glancing up at you as he knows exactly what you'll do - give him a little puzzled look, as if to ask you sure, reo? - and moans as his gaze meets yours. you look entirely fucked out already, spit wet on your lips and face pink, eyes wide and needy. he wonders if he looks just as filthy right now, hips rutting into the sheets and soaking his sweats with pre-cum and with his face stuffed in your pussy, devouring you as if he was starved.
he just might be, after years of trying to control himself.
he feels your fingers give a sharp pull at his hair, then push his mouth right back against you until his nose nudges against your groomed mound. it starts to get hard to breathe, he realizes, but you taste just to sweet - almost like honey, thick and sticky on his tongue as he suckles and licks and nibbles, soft little hums and whines buzzing against your twitching pussy.
you feel your back nearly stick to the sheets, thighs trembling against his head as you feel the strange sensation creep up - your muscles tense up as reo's hand presses on your lower abdomen, firmly, a breathy sigh hot on your clit. your eyes widen slightly and you jolt,
"aah- stop- reo, stop," you babble, tongue heavy in your mouth and head hazy from pleasure, but you have to go. embarrassment is dense on your mind as you push at his head, breath picking up and hips bucking up involuntarily. "please, please reo, it feels - ngh- feels funny." you don't realize there's big, fat tears running down your temples now, clear streaks streaming down the heated skin as your voice cracks.
why isn't he stopping?
you choke back a sob, the pleasure white hot in your veins as he groans and pulls back just slightly, enough to speak, "fuck, cum for me. cum on my face, baby." he sounds desperate - looks just the same, too, as you glance at him and the way he works his fingers in and out of your tight heat, fluttering and tightening. big, needy eyes stare up at you, bangs held back by your hand as your fingers pull at the hair, and he lolls his tongue out, grinding it against your clit messily.
you throw your head back, eyes unfocused, as it hits you like a heavy rainfall. the pleasure comes in waves, muscles taut and shaking as your back arches and quiet little cries slip out of your mouth - almost like a chant, and nothing like the sounds all of the other girls made, reo realizes. you sound so, so much prettier. perfect and sweet as you grind against his hungry mouth, cream oozing onto his tongue and juices spilling on his chin. he nearly whimpers, hips rolling against the bed and it takes all of his self restraint not to cum in his pants, too, at the sight of you trembling in his grasp.
the pleasure leaves your limbs warm and fuzzy, a soft buzz in your ears as your climax slowly dies down - but you realize that reo doesn't let up, fingers now having dropped their pace, but tongue still flicking against your oversensitive heat. you whine, swallowing back tears and pulling his mouth away, tugging at the roots of violet hair.
"reo," you sound broken enough, he thinks, and so he gives your clit a last kiss, the smack sounding so obscene it makes you close your eyes in shame. he eases his fingers out of you and gives the inside of your thigh a little peck as well before sitting back on his heels, breathing heavy as he takes you in.
you struggle to catch your breath properly, hair sticking to wet cheeks as you swallow thickly and grab at the sheets - as if you wanted to tug them over your body, cover yourself from his stare and the realization that sits heavy on your mind. reo sighs, nearly dreamily, and sucks your juices right off his fingers as you watch - too exhausted to show any sign of shame.
"m'gonna have you ride my face next time, okay?" he breathes out, giving your hip a squeeze - and before you let his words settle in, you're already nodding along, a soft little whimper leaving your mouth in agreement. it makes his cock jump in his boxers, the way you're so compliant and don't seem to realize the weight of his words.
if only he had known you'd be so easy to convince, he would've made a move a long time ago already, reo thinks to himself as he pulls you up for a kiss. grabbing your wrist to push your hand behind the waistband of his boxers, he drinks up the little moans that slip out your mouth, needy and sweet, nearly enough to make his teeth rot.
reo is so content he's met you, even if it took him long years to realize that your innocence and purity are actually the very thing he needs and wants.
and yeah, you're still different than the other girls - but you're just as oblivious with the way you don't notice his phone propped up on the nightstand.
