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kinardgo · 4 months ago

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bucktommy / tevan prompt: drive, car/vehicle, hands

i literally cannot see the words "bucktommy" and "hands" and not instantly get weird about it so uh. sorry. if you're not into short, kinda horny oneshots. thank you for the prompt!!! <33

bucktommy / rated m / mild and implied sexual content / prompts open

Buck never gets out of the city, these days.

That's an over simplification, of course. Sometimes he does. Calls out of the city. Assists out of county. But it's been a long, long time since he made it out of LA for anything fun. And, this? This is fun.

The early evening has made a painting out of the North California landscape, streaming past them like so many brushstrokes. A sky in pink and lilac, trees tops in black shadow. Tommy, pretty as a picture, pretty as he always is with his hands on the wheel and his eyes forward.

Jesus, Buck has never wanted anyone so much in his life.

"You're staring."

"You're gorgeous."

Tommy huffs, but doesn't tear his eyes away from the road.

"You know I could watch you do this for hours."

"You have been watching me do this for hours," Tommy reminds him, mouth a sly smile, "Except for that powernap you took after lunch."

"You want me to take the wheel for a bit, babe?"

The same smile that always crossses Tommy's expression when Buck callshim babe appears. It's a soft little thing, but it's one of his favourite things in the world.

"Nah, there's only an hour left. Besides, I wouldn't want to deny you your favourite spectator sport."

It's true, it is. Maybe not in the way that Tommy thinks, maybe Tommy doesn't get it at all, actually. Buck likes to watch him. Watch him drive, watch him cook, watch him shave. Watch him nap on the couch after along shift, watch him comb his hair back before one. The confidence in his walk, the set of his shoulders, the surety of his hands.

His hands.

The same hands that are on the wheel that have pulled people out of burning buildings have washed Buck's hair in the shower. They've piloted helicopters, and cooked dinner for the two of them. They've patched up burns and lacerations and concussions in the field, and touched Buck the way no one else has ever quite managed.

Tommy flexes his hands, palms sure on the wheel.

Something stirs in Buck, a sense memory tucked into the joints of his wrists, the swirl of his fingerprints.

Buck stretches out in the passenger seat, a pleasant warmth settling at the base of his spine, a tingling in his gut, his fingertips, his legs.

There's a little sweat gathered in the fabric at Tommy's collar, where it's trickled down his neck. There's a drop of it tracing a faint red mark there, just under his hairline. Too faded to show any trace of what caused it, but Buck knows it was his teeth.

Buck runs a hand up his thigh absently.

"Evan," Tommy says warningly, but there's a touch of amusement in his tone, too.

"What?" he says innocently.

"You know what."

"Nope," he grins, "You look good."

"You look like a distraction."

"You can handle it."

"If I crash this car, and someone phones 911, you do realise neither one of us is ever going to live it down, right?"

He knows. He can practically see Chimney laughing his ass off already, hear Hen cackling. They gave him enough shit when a photo of Tommy appeared in his locker, a perfectly innocent picture of his boyfriend passed out cold on the couch in Buck's apartment, Jee-Yun beaming wildly into the camera after a day at a waterpark. Tommy's not wearing a shirt, because it got wet chasing Jee through a splash field. It's in Buck's locker because it's a great picture. No correlation.

"You flew a helicopter into a hurricane, I think you can manage the I5."

"You didn't have a hard on in the helicopter."

"That's what you think," Buck grins. He does now, easy and eager to go, like he's eighteen again, dick on a hairpin trigger.

"You didn't get enough this morning?" Tommy asks wryly.

This morning was slow and easy, still under the covers with the early morning light coming down on them like a blessing. Tommy's mouth on his stomach and his fingers inside of him, pulling an orgasm out of him like pulling on a loose thread - unravelling Buck into an incoherent mess.

"That was like eight hours ago-"

"It was maybe five, at an absolute push-"

"-and you just look so good sat there-"

"-I'm not doing anything!"

"-and I want you," Buck says, chest going warm at the way Tommy's mouth snaps shut and a blush starts spreading across his cheeks, "the way I always want you because you always look this good."

"We're gonna crash on the I5 and there's gonna be a pile up, and they're gonna check traffic cam footage and see that it's because I swerved into oncoming traffic, and when they ask me what happened, I'm gonna have to say it's because-"

"We're not going to crash, Tommy," Buck laughs.

"-because my boyfriend is insatiably horny," he interupts, louder, before glancing over at him. His eyes drop down to where Buck is rubbing himself through his sweats and he groans, a deep rumbling thing in his chest that makes Buck jerk helplessly in the seat, "and because he looks so good right now."

The satnav on the dash says there's still ninety minutes until they reach their destination, which is damn near an eternity. The thought of being confined in this car with Tommy, in a nice fitting t-shirt and shorts that have ridden up to expose a slither of inner thigh, for more than an hour feels impossible. Buck grinds into the heel of his palm, images of them pulled over at the side of the road, pressed together in the backseat of Tommy's old muscle car, or Buck bent over the hood, or leaning against the driver's side door with Tommy on his knees in front of him- They bomboard his imagination like firecrackers, every one of them vivid and alive like memories rather than fantasies.

Tommy's hand shoots out like a gunshot from the wheel to clasp his wrist.

He didn't realise how close he was to coming until his hand stopped moving.

"Jesus, Evan-" Tommy breaths out, his fingers like a vice, chest heaving, "You're trying to kill me."

"Whatta way to go though, huh?" Buck slurs. His hips are still twitching, even as he steps back from the precipice of orgasm. Everything is still so close, so hot, so intense. Tommy's jaw is so tight the muscle is jumping under the skin, but he lets go of Buck's wrist to lace their fingers together instead.

It's probably not the placating gesture Tommy wants it to be, not now that Buck's so worked up, not when it's Tommy's hands that have him writhing in the passenger seat of this car, Tommy's everything, really.

"Evan."

"What?"

"Quit it," he says firmly.

Buck grins, "Or what?"

"Or," Tommy says easily, "Every time I catch you, I'm adding an hour onto how long I'm making you wait when we get to the hotel."

That definitely doesn't have the desire affect, or it does. Buck can't tell over the wildfire that courses through him, caught between the desire to chase relief as soon as possible, and drag whatever game they've stumbled onto here out for as long as he can. Whatever shows on his face makes Tommy laugh, pull his hand back and put it back on the wheel.

(They make it to the hotel by the skin of their teeth, check in like a pair of maniacs on the run from the cops, then Tommy shows him just how serious he was about that three hour penalty by strapping his arms to the bed with his belt.)

(He only makes it two and a half.)

#bucktommy #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 #**writing #bucktommy tag #i also go into heat when i look at lfj's hands buck its okay bby :)#thank you for this prompt i really hope you're not averse to m rated content!!!!!! <3

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lamnwar · 1 year ago

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Hii! I really love your stories and writing style and since i saw your requests are open, I'd love to request a NSFW with Akashi where it's both, his and reader's first time, with lots of fluff if possible and if you want!!

If you decide to write it, thank you in advance! <3

Omgggg can't believe it took me 6 months to complete this request I swear I momentarily forgot how to write smut 😭😭 hope you still enjoy this though, I felt bad so this one is extra long (4.7k) <33

You're My First // Akashi Seijurō x Fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

Context: Might have taken you and your boyfriend Seijurō way too long to finally have sex, whoops! All characters are aged-up (18+) for plot purposes.

Warnings: mainly fluff till the last quarter, mention of reader (and Akashi a bit) being sexually frustrated, mention of masturbation (both Akashi and reader do it), kissing obvs, handjob, fingering, protected sex (because Akashi is a gentleman 🥰)

The wooden tile strategically placed on the board, Seijurō's game partner sighs. It's a force of habit: can you ever win against a guy like him? You chuckle, arms wrapping around your boyfriend's shoulders as you kiss his cheek.

“What is it that you say? Your victory is absolute?” you whisper loud enough for Shintarō to hear you.

“Please, no need to add more to my defeat” the green haired man readjusts his glasses, seemingly unbothered by his loss but you aren't dupe.

A smile on your lips, you let your fingers run through Seijurō's red hair. His shogi playmate looks away, like all the times you show some sort of affection to your boyfriend. Throwing his jacket over his broad shoulders, Midorima excuses himself by saying that he's got practice. It figures, you think, Seijurō's friends are players like no other. You wave him goodbye as he walks out, and once his tall figure is out of sight, you let out a soft sigh.

“Sei?”

He looks up from the board with a softness in his gaze, putting the tiles back in their designated bag. Akashi Seijurō conceits his emotions quite well, that's a well-known fact. But the minute he fell in love with you, he's learned to open up. From talking about his mother to how basketball saved him from his darkest times, the Seijurō you know is exclusive – no one, not even Midorima that he's fond of, has any knowledge of the depth of his person. But you don't bother: he's your one and only, isn't he?

“Coming to my place tonight?” He asks.

You breathe in, like every time he asks. Most of the time, there is no meaning to these words. Nights of shy touches, nights of "sorry love, I can't". You ponder if you should refuse. You have needs, don't you? Of course you do. More than touch-starved, you crave love to a level that you feel Seijurō is not ready for.

“Sure thing” you utter, incapable of turning him down.

A light brings his eyes to life, and you feel your heart melt.

Isn't he sweet, your Sei-chan?

A thought you never believed you’d ever had, on the day you met him; an afternoon in May, both of you finding yourself in the same isle of the library, looking for the same book.

“It's in my recommended reading list” you said, not willing to back down.

“Funny, my professor wrote this one.”

His arrogance turned you off, but then, he organized a special lecture for your class with the author of said book, leaving your own lecturer in awe and you wondering why he did such thing for someone who meant nothing. Took you long enough to realize that you actually meant something to him. He asked you out right after that lecture and now here you are.

“Sei, let me treat you. We’re having celebratory diner for your victory in shogi” You stretch out of your spot, hands swaying to your hips as you smile to your boyfriend.

“My love, if we have a celebratory diner every time I win, you’ll end up broke.”

You scoff, nudging him in the arm. His arrogance ever so often pops out, but in a rather endearing way. In the right settings, you find yourself thinking, it might even be attractive – but you guard yourself from admitting so.

“We’re eating to my place instead” he says as his arm finds your shoulders, wrapping around it with the grace that could only be associated to him.

You raise an eyebrow but doesn’t refuse the invitation. The last rays of sun cast on your faces as you both walk in the late summer evening, between the distant laughter of children and the sounds of birds going home. And amidst all of what soothes your soul, nothing compares to the way you feel at this exact moment, walking so close to the one you love. It’s a subtle feeling, one that you don’t bother to describe, that makes things so easy when he’s around. And you just need to glance for a second in his direction, to see it. The way he makes you feel, written all over your face.

Seijurō is silent, yet, from the dancing flame in his eyes, you can guess that something is brewing in his head. You smile, a soft chuckle coming out of your lips. You know he hates it, when you’re able to read him so easily; he told you once, “I’ve always thought of myself as hard to decipher”. Not so much though, or at least, not to you.

“Sei, you seem nervous despite having an awfully good day.”

Your remark gets him to straighten up as he walks, a quick raise of his eyebrows indicating that you took him by surprise.

“Can’t a guy be nervous around his girlfriend?”

“My…” you chuckle, “don’t put it on me now. What’s up? It’s not the first time I’m coming over, although I’d argue it’s not a common occurrence.”

“Well, you know – “

“You might do things you'll regret if I come by too often, I know” you cut him off.

You both stay silent for a minute; your words having brought up the memories of countless of discussions around this topic. Seijurō has never outrightly told you why he barely has you over, why he cuts your dates short when things start to escalate, why every time you take the level of intimacy up a notch, he is the first one to grow distance between you. It’s always some vague excuse that you don’t really understand, but you try your best not to judge. Intimacy, after all, is not a given to everybody.

“But you know, I don’t think I’ll regret anything I do with you.” You say, cutting short to the long silence. “I mean, as long as it’s you and that… you know. I just wanna say, I trust you with these things. I wouldn’t be with you overwise.”

You quickly glance in his direction, in search of a reaction from your boyfriend. You don’t know if your words are clear enough to him – not that it’s been your kind (or his kind) to be straightforward. Yet, you still manage to get yourself to be understood, despite never saying things outright. So you just hope that he’s got the message clear; and he does, you figure, by the small nod he gives as you approach his place.

“I’ll treat you to a lovely diner tonight, then. And if you don’t mind, you can spend the night.”

You stare at him, incredulous. Have you heard that last part right? Seijurō always speaks with assurance, but these aren’t words he’s used to speak.

“Oh, y-yeah…” you clean your throat, hand clumsily trying to hide your blush.

This is a turn of situations you haven’t expected whatsoever, but as you walk into the familiar lobby of Seijurō’s place, you realize soon enough that this is real. Unusual, but real.

And then it hits you.

The reason he seems nervous, the reason he’s invited you over in the first place, and why he’s asked you to stay over from the start. It comes clear, especially knowing him. The young man has always been one to plan things out, especially important things. And if you read the situation correctly, tonight is not born out of nothing.

Maybe he’s finally taken notice of the small clues you’ve left, traces of your desire for more. The way your hands linger longer on his body when you touch him, the sweet perfume you wear on your neck in hope whiffs draw him in, the elongated looks you’ve sent him for weeks now. Sweet, innocent eyes, yet eyes ready for more, if he’s only willing to give you an opportunity.

And willing, to your surprise, he is. Something feels different when you walk the threshold of his place; it’s not the soft smell of lavender you’ve grown familiar with, it’s not the warm shade of the light, it’s not the way he hangs his jacket on the hanger at the door. So, what is it?

“Love, are you coming?” His voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You breathe out a short “yes”, joining him in the kitchen. Your gaze fall upon the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, as he rinses vegetables for diner. The way he moves with grace and confidence while you’re still trying to process what this whole night means stuns you, and you sit, in contemplation of whether you should address the subject.

How are you supposed to ask your boyfriend if you’re having sex for the first time tonight, anyways?

You contemplate, ultimately concluding that being direct is the best way to go about it. Well, that is, if you even know how to be direct in the way you address the subject. So you stand, looming over his shoulders as he stirs some onion and garlic in the pan, shy hands locking behind your back. He hums, an assured smile creeping on his lips as he feels your presence in his back. He’s seemingly way more relaxed about this night than you are – but then again, Seijurō is the last person on Earth to show any sign of nervousness. His hand reaches back to you, gently dragging your face closer to land a kiss on your forehead.

“What’s that, love? Are you the nervous one, now?”

He chuckles as you stare at him, baffled. Are you doing such a terrible job at hiding it?

“Can’t tell me you’re all chill about tonight either” you retaliate.

“Oh, but I am.”

“When did you decide to make tonight the night, anyway?”

He turns off the stove, flipping the veggies one last time.

“I had that idea in mind for a while, but I wanted to make sure that you wanted it as well” he replies honestly, “so when you said that you trusted me earlier, I had all the confirmation that I needed.”

You nod, sitting on the counter.

“And you’re really gonna make me think you’re not nervous at all about it?” you cock an eyebrow.

His silence leaves you uncertain – something that annoys you ever so often. Your ability to read him better than anyone else has always been your pride, so these moments where he strips you from your special ability to comprehend him always annoys you.

“Seijurō.”

He looks up in your direction, his eyes open slightly as he hears your tone. It’s not cold, or mean, or stern. But it’s serious, well serious beyond what he’s used to hear from you. He sighs, joining you as his pinkie finger gently grazes your hand.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to do it.” He sighs. “Maybe we should have talked about it before…”

“It’s fine. If we did, it would have ruined the mood.”

“Because there’s a mood to ruin to begin with?”

You chuckle, finger interlocking with his.

“Oh, I’m crazy nervous, but it doesn't make me any less… eager than I’ve always been.”

He raises an eyebrow, slight amusement on his face. You can’t help but chuckle a bit at his expression. Suddenly, seeing him smile so wholeheartedly makes (most) of your nerves go away. Maybe that’s what he does to you, and maybe that’s why you stick around. You let out a soft giggle, before looking at him.

“Anyways. Do you have any idea how the night where you lose your virginity typically goes?”

“I was relying on you to have an answer on that.”

You scoff, a heartfelt laugh coming out of your throat. The sight of you like that makes the blood pump to his face; a light pink blush painting his cheek as he laughs too. He doesn’t even know what gets you to laugh like that – head thrown back as the little crinkles by your eyes that he loves so much appears, but it warms his heart like nothing else can.

“Damn, we’re two big virgins, aren’t we?” you say as you sigh dramatically.

“For some reason, I imagined that you would have been more knowledgeable than me on that topic.”

“Seijurō, who do you think I am?!”

He chuckles; a slightly high-pitched sound that rarely comes out of him unless he’s with you. Because this is what you do to him, letting his true nature shine through from time to time – whether it be his radiant smile, the pink on his cheeks every time he’s near you, or the kindness of his amber eyes.

“Well… you know I’m not one to half-ass anything, but it’s not the easiest thing to do some studying on.”

“I see.” You nod, fingers interlocking with his. “But we trust each other, don’t we?”

He hums, looking at you. And that’s when you see it in his eyes, that glimmer that tells you without stuttering that he is absolutely sure about this, you and him, but mostly you.

“Can’t go wrong if it’s us, yeah?”

His words travel in your mind as he slowly leans towards you. His thumb caresses the soft skin of your bottom lip, before he leaves a sweet and soft kiss on it. It feels almost nostalgic, a kiss similar to the one you first exchanged when you just started dating. The warmth in your heart and the gentleness of his fingers on your skin, all reminiscent of the kisses you experienced when you were falling for him. And now that you have fell, the idea of feeling these kisses all over again makes your heart beat frenetically. You kiss him once again, your hand resting on the soft skin of his cheeks as you pour your love in that single kiss. He pulls away, hot breath falling on your lips as his eyes capture you, forbidding you to look anywhere else.

“Is it crazy if I tell you I am absolutely sure about this, in this very instant?” he mutters against your lips.

You hum, shaking your head. It’s not crazy, the thought has crossed your mind, too. And maybe that’s a sign; for the little that you know on the topic, overthinking things usually isn’t the way to go. It’s more one of these “if you know, you know” moments.

And right now, this is it.

Just one look, and he grabs your hand, taking you both to the bedroom – not before covering up the sautéed veggies he’s cooked earlier, of course (Seijurō, even in desperate need for you, wouldn’t leave freshly made food uncovered). You giggle, body lying on the soft mattress of his bed; bed that you’ve shared multiple times without ever crossing the line. And here you are, fingers tangling in his soft, red locks, too lost in a haze of desire to think of the hardship it has been all along to not act on your needs for him, for his touch.

“Sei, I want you, you know that?”

“You made it quite clear, yeah” he blushes softly as a sweet laugh comes out of his lips. “And I know it’s not very gentleman-like of me to say it, but baby, if I could, I would strip you naked right away.”

“Do it then, who’s stopping you?”

He raises an eyebrow, pink painting his cheek as he sees the daring look in your eyes.

“My... I’m no savage, I had to make sure you wanted me to.”

You laugh, leaving a sweet kiss on his jaw.

“Baby, I’ve got years of pent-up sexual frustration about to get unleashed. Please, do not be a gentleman with me tonight.”

He looks at you curiously, not expecting his sweet girlfriend to utter such words. Yet he feels his cock twitch in the confine of his pants when he hears you speak like that. Something about your tone – so clear and confident, with a hint of need, makes the blood rush down to his aching member. The one he used to stroke once you were gone from his place, mad at himself that he didn’t gather the strength to touch you despite knowing that it was what you both wanted; and he found himself angry at himself and in desperate need for you, stroking his dick shamefully as he thought of you.

But here you are, under his body, your tongue leaving the sweet taste of you in his mouth as you push him as close to you as possible.

He pulls away, heavy breath fanning on your hot skin. It’s almost by instinct that he lets his hand trail down to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it as if to ask if he can remove it from you. And he does when you give him a nod, loving eyes examining all parcels of skin that gets unveiled before him. He’s delicate and meticulous, removing piece by piece with so much regard for the fabric that you’re almost tempted to tell him to just rip it off. He has always had that theory about you – one that he finally gets to confirm.

You are, indeed, a piece of art.

The beauty of your skin, the marks, moles and scars, the curves and angles. All so perfectly mixed like you were created by an artist and no less. He stops for a minute, wondering: does he have any right to touch something so immaculate?

But you’re quick to give him an answer, when your hands remove his shirt, letting you get a sight at his body. Seijurō is surprising. His build is slender, delicate; but when your fingers trace the outline of his muscles, it becomes clear that he is more than he appears to be. Not that you’ve ever been curious about his body either. One thing that you’ve always liked about your boyfriend, is his face. His features are soaked in grace, always having the look of a prince in all situations – even in the morning when he’s just wakened up, or after practice when he’s sweaty. He’s got that same look, over and over, that makes you believe you must have done something great in your past life to find yourself someone like him in this one.

“Sei, I wanna touch you, can I?”

He smiles softly. Your request is sweet, almost innocent. He can’t say no, he doesn’t want to.

“Be nice, yeah?” He leaves a peck on your cheek.

You giggle – who would have guessed that he’d make you feel like a silly teenage girl in love right now? Your hand trails down his body, meticulously exposing his skin. It’s soft and warm, and now you understand why his hugs always feel so good. Your movements slow down when you reach his belt, eyes widening slightly at the sigh of the bulge in his pants. It’s not the first time that you see it – you’ve noticed it in the previous nights you had a sleepover – but this time, you ought to do something about it.

“Ah – oh my…” his breath hitches in his throat as your fingers reach inside his pants, pulling the fabric down to unleash his cock.

It’s a bold move on your part, one that gets you to blush furiously once you see his erected member before your eyes. It’s pretty, you think, much more than you expected it to be. A delicate curve that leads to a blush pink tip – sensitive, you notice as your finger curiously brushes over it. You explore, hand wrapping around his length as you give him gentle caresses.

“Is that good, Sei?”

“Amazing, love… please don’t stop.”

You hum, letting your fingers translate your curiosity by the way they explore every inch of skin you find, watching him shiver when you touch some places, sigh when you touch others. So… this is it, you think, a man’s pleasure. You continue, watching him twitch in your hold. You look up at him, sparkles in your eyes.

“Sei, do you love my touch?”

His fingers run through your locks, a soft smile on his face.

“I have to, it comes from you.”

Pulling you up to pepper your face in kisses, you can almost cry. It's never hit you before, how much your boyfriend actually loves you. But you can’t deny that look in his eyes – love and lust painting his irises like night lights.

Beautiful, like him.

Enchanting, like him.

Loving, like him.

“Sweetheart” his voice falls in your ear in a soft murmur, “I’ll need you to stop fiddling with my cock with those soft fingers of yours or I won’t be able to contain myself anymore.”

“Oh… Oh!” you blush, pulling your hands away. “Got carried away. A man’s anatomy is a curious thing” you remark.

He raises an eyebrow, laying you down on the mattress.

“I could say the same thing about a woman’s body, particularly yours…” he taunts, thumb tracing down your throat to your perky nipple.

You hiss, surprised look at the way he touches you like a scientist making a new discovery. His touch is exploring. He rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers, observing the way your body folds in response.

“Sei! Ah… sensitive!”

“I know.”

You ogle at him, only getting him to laugh with a bit of mischief in his voice. And you get reminded at this moment that this is who he is. Seijurō is a learner, getting his kick in mastering new skills. And for a man that has never done it before, he is surprisingly skilled in touching your body. As his lips trail down your abdomen to your navel, you hold your breath. On the moment, countless thoughts cross your mind. Did you shave this morning? What if he finds out about this one mole on your pubis and freaks out? Doesn’t it look a bit weird down there?

“Good lord…”

Fuck.

You panic even more upon hearing his exclamation; what does it mean?!

“My love, are all vulvas like yours? Because it looks so pretty…”

“Huh?”

You’re stunned, speechless. It isn’t quite the compliment you could ever wish for. To be honest, you’ve been too scared to take a proper look at your own cunt before, so all the sense you have of it comes from what you’ve gathered from your touch. You’re familiar with the ridges, soft bulging parts and folds, but what has always been mere anatomy to you, seems to be art in Seijurō’s eyes. His curious finger runs through your slit, separating the lips as you blush furiously. His movements are teasing – you wonder if he’s doing it purposely or is it just a mishap of his exploring. Either way, you bite back your whimpers, watching him brush against your clitoris softly, while you squirm.

“Sei that’s uh…”

“Here? You want my touch here, love?”

You nod eagerly, observing the way he looks at you from between your legs, finger gently circling around your clit. Your hips buck forward, setting a rhythm to which he adapts his moves.

“You’re getting wet… do you mind if I put a finger in?”

“Please!”

You quickly cover your mouth, surprised by how needy you sounded just now. Such tone has never gotten out of you; except late at night, in the solitude of your room when you’d think of him, frustrated fingers toying with your clit as you would almost cry thinking about how much you craved Seijurō’s touch. But now that you have it, it’s a different thing. It’s much more intense, like your skin is a fragile flame, and his touch is fuel. He pours, your flame grows, and grows, and grows.

“Fuck… I…” You pant, far from expecting his fingers to know your cunt so well – isn’t that supposed to be his first time, too?!

“Everything’s alright?” he asks between two kisses on your inner thighs.

Your lips tremble, one arm pressed against your forehead while your other hand holds the bed sheets like your life depends on it.

“I think I’m close” you finally manage to say.

“Want me to stop?”

“…” you think for a moment, too overwhelmed to have an idea of what you truly want – but you do give reason to your body, eventually, “Don’t stop.”

He leaves a sweet peck on the skin of your thigh, working his fingers till you squirm, your warm walls pushing him out as you reach your orgasm – first one that he’s brought you to. He props his body up to kiss you with all the love he has for you, and you pull him close, goosebumps covering your skin when you feel his naked body against yours. He’s so soft, so loving, it can almost make you cry.

He’s just… love. That’s what he is, the embodiment of love.

“Baby, should we go all the way?”

You nod, kissing him again, and again, drunk on him.

“Please say it with your sweet voice” he murmurs against your lips.

“Seijurō, please make love to me.”

He nods, the tenderness in his eyes giving you the kind of warmth you’ve always craved. It stays, even when he gets up to get a condom, and even when he stands before you, hard-on in his palm as he rolls the rubber on it. You look with stars in your eyes when he hovers above you, leaving a peck on your forehead.

“I’m going in, alright?”

“Yeah” you breathe out.

Your nervous, trying to distract yourself of the stinging feeling when his head pushes in, so you look at his face. His half-lidded eyes, his parted lips as his hot breath fans on your face, and the contraction of his shoulders as his hold himself above you.

“Are you good, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, feeling tears coming up. You can’t tell if you’re just overwhelmed or if it’s that novel pain you feel in that part of your body. Seijurō’s furrow his eyebrows in concern, stilling as he looks at you.

“Shall I stop?”

“Let’s… don’t move. I wanna get used to it.”

“Sure?”

You nod, take big breaths to calm yourself down. Leaving kisses after kisses on your forehead, you feel yourself relax a bit, eventually giving him the thumbs-up to push deeper. And he does, slowly, carefully, like your pussy is the most precious place in the world and that he, a mere mortal, should only thread carefully around it.

“Here you go” he coos “taking me so well…”

You mewl, hands wrapped around his neck, as he starts his slow thrusts. You wonder for a minute if he’s pacing himself as to be careful, or because he’s afraid of not being able to hold himself back overwise. Either way, you slowly find pleasure in the feeling of his cock roaming inside your walls – in and out, deep and slow. Seijurō’s soft grunts falls in your ear, making you shiver.

“You feel… ah… so good, love” his voice is slightly more high-pitched, hints of desperation tinting his timbre.

“Please, faster…”

“Is that what you want, hm?”

“Yeah” you moan out as your hips buck to meet the movements of his.

He pants, the look in his eyes being something you’ve never seen before. It’s not something you can comprehend, but seeing that light danse in his amber irises, combined with his slender finger toying with your clit, you feel your high build up. And explosion of sensations, taking your entire soul to another dimension as you squeal his name, holding on to him like he’s your saviour.

“Fuck, I…”

You giggle in surprise, not ever recalling hearing him swear before. But can he be blamed, when the tight hold your pussy has on him is just so heavenly?

“I’m… love, I’m cumming!”

Those words alone send you into a frenzy, the song of both your moans filling up the room, the same way his hot seed fills up the condom, seconds before he gives out, head falling on your chest.

“I love you” you whisper, just a bit louder than the erratic beat of your hearts.

He looks up at you, incapable of voicing an answer, but you’ve known Seijurō’s face well enough to read his thoughts.

You’re his biggest victory, he believes, being here in this bed, closer to you than he’s ever been before.

#here you go!!!#crazy how most of it was written during my break at work lol #but I hope you enjoy it bby <3 #sorry it took forever #akashi seijuro #knb #kuroko no basuke #akashi x reader #knb x reader #akashi smut #knb smut

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