#hq!! insert

[omi-boshi]

"Hey, Kiyoomi-kun!" Shion yells from the open door leading to the locker rooms, voice a little breathless. "Your phone rang." Kiyoomi quirks an eyebrow in curiosity. There's still 15 minutes left of their break and truthfully, Kiyoomi is not inclined to leave the comfortable position he's resting in: sat on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him as he caught his breath. Still, he rises to his feet and ambles towards the locker room. Kiyoomi typically has his phone on Do Not Disturb. If anyone's messaging him at this time, it could only be one person: you. He thumbs his phone open; the screen flashes with a photo of you and him from your most recent anniversary, before he clicks on the message that, just as he guessed, came from you.

It's a video.

For a moment, he considers saving it for later just in case it ends up being racier than what's acceptable to play in public but the motion blur from the thumbnail suggests anything but that. Besides, it's barely past 5PM, you're only on the way home at this time.

Ultimately, curiosity gets the better of him and he plays the video without further ado.

"Hey, babe!" Your voice crackles through the speaker. In the video, you're running. The backdrop is the familiar landscape of the neighborhood you both reside in.

"This is proof that I would never try to bring home a stray dog." You look off to the side, the camera tilting with the motion and showing the dog that's running alongside you. "See, Kiyoomi!" You look towards your phone. Despite doing your utmost at feigning disappointment and concern at being followed, your giddiness bleeds through your voice and it's enough to pull a smile out of Kiyoomi.

"See! I'm running! I'm running away from you!" Your voice lowers in volume as you direct your words to the dog. It's immediately followed by, "Come on, buddy! Come on— Go away!" You say the last part to the camera. Eyes wide, as if you were looking directly at Kiyoomi and convincing him in person.

Kiyoomi falters at the way you try your damndest to tamp down your grin, the faux disappointment coming back as you address him through the video. His grin widens.

"What are you doing? Go away!" You turn to the dog. "I said run— run away—come on, come on—Run, buddy—Run away!"

As you grow increasingly breathless, Kiyoomi's amusement crests, sending him into fits of laughter that catch the attention of everyone within the vicinity. His laughter continues as he watches you run with this dog, at one point, even waving it over when it strays too far.

By the time the video abruptly cuts off, the fatigue Kiyoomi felt from practice is replaced by this warmth in his chest brought about by your valiant attempt at not leading a stray dog into your home. When his laughter subsides, Shoyo bounds over towards him, curious at what has the reclusive spiker so amused. "You seem happy, Omi-san. Something good happen?" Kiyoomi spares him a glance, laughter dying down, and a soft quirk to his lips that Shoyo has learned can only be pulled out of him by you. "Yeah... I think we're getting a dog."

(based on this silly little video)

[lale-txt]

Kuroo looks at you like you’re magic. Leaning in the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching you brush your teeth, still drowsy from your alarm going off only a few minutes ago.

He doesn’t care that you’re wearing the same oversized shirt of his for the third day in the row because the moving box with yours is buried somewhere you don’t remember. You’ve long given up on finding a pair of pants. The flat is a mess and so are you, your thoughts as scattered as your shared belongings on the floor. It’s bittersweet, moving out of this flat that you’ve lived in together for so many years. 

Your first home. 

These walls have seen everything–your Nekoma volleyball club jackets on the wall, the "we're really just good friends and roommates" cuddles on the couch late at night, the clumsy and drunk confessions in the kitchen, the needy open-mouth kisses against his bedroom door. You both fell in love here and never stopped doing so, a love so big and ever-growing till it didn’t fit into this small apartment anymore.

"You're beautiful," Kuroo mutters and wraps his arms around your middle from behind, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. He lingers with his eyes closed, taking in your warmth and the familiar scent of your skin. It was his idea, getting a house outside of the city. Somewhere you can breathe, he said. He doesn’t mind the commute, he’d walk till the end of earth if it meant coming back home to you. 

Calm. Kuroo makes you feel calm.

It’s as if he turns down the volume of your own thoughts till they’re nothing but white noise, all with a simple hug. In his arms, you found safety and a deep belonging, like you’re molded to fit in there. Kuroo and you, you and Kuroo. You’re your own person but you’re also his, and when he kisses you it’s like the sun and the moon are colliding in an otherworldly unison.

Kuroo laughs softly when you give him a toothpaste kiss on his cheek, the fingers of your free hand tangling in his messy hair as you pull him closer. The other day you had found a white hair in there, his first one. Another tiny milestone shared. You had teased him about it, lovingly, and Kuroo simply pulled you closer and looked at you with all the devotion of the world. Small kisses pressed against your knuckles and the insides of your wrist, his thumb rubbing over the spot where a ring would be a few days after that.

“I don’t mind turning gray and old, as long as it’s with you,” he murmured and something had tugged on your heartstrings when he did.

Kuroo’s love is honest and raw, in a way that never leaves you second-guessing. It’s warm and tender. He makes you feel safe when everything inside of you is falling apart. And when he cradles your heart in his calloused hands you understand what it means to be seen, to be cared for, to be loved.

[chaepink]

Hear me out, maliciously praising pathetic yandere Oikawa. Like he’s so pathetic obsessed with reader, and the sound of their praise is making him go crazy, and reader catches on to this and starts praising him just for a reaction, which ends in him cumming, on his knees for reader as they just smirk and teasingly praise his pathetic shaking form <33

dom!reader, sub!Oikawa praise, cumming in pants, teasing

“You’re such a good boy for me, right?” Another shiver racks through Oikawa as he whines, staring up at you from his place on the floor with glassy eyes.

You’re standing in front of him with a grin on your face that makes him swallow in anticipation.

“I never thought you would like my praise this much, Oikawa. You must really like being my good slut, don’t you?”

A soft whimper leaves him as he clenches his fists that lay on his thighs. He’s been sitting on his knees for a while and there’s a slight ache but the cloudy fog in his mind is preventing him from thinking of anything else other than you and your words.

“I bet you just want to touch me right now, don’t you? Make me feel good like a good boy is supposed to do?” Oikawa stares up at you with tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

You glance down from his face and see the bulge in his pants and smirk. Oikawa can’t even think properly anymore, he just wants to cum. He’s so hard, it hurts.

“You’re hard from just my words, baby? Gonna cum from my praise only?” A sob racks through his body and he nods eagerly, staring up at you as he ruts futilely in the air, searching for any kind of friction.

“Go ahead and be a good whore for me then and cum in your pants then, darling.” Oikawa lets out a choked moan and gasps at the sudden release. Quickly, you see a wet stain start to appear on his crotch and you giggle.

“How cute, you came in your pants without my touch.” Oikawa’s breaths are heavy as his body rocks with his recent orgasm.

After a few minutes, he looks up at you with trembling lips before glancing down at his stained pants with a flushed face and looking back up at you, expecting you to do something. You raise an eyebrow before suddenly placing your foot on his crotch and pushing it down, making him cry out in pleasure.

“What, you thought I was done, darling? Oh we’re far from that, don’t you want to be my good boy?” He nods eagerly.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[erzva]

his favorite ways to make you cum

a/n: ok i’ve realized that you can actually just insert any character of your liking while reading this bc it’s not specific to the character i had in mind..

eating you out

his favorite sexual activity for sure. not only does he love giving you head and seeing you feel good because of him but it’s relaxing to him. when he’s tired or sad he’ll always crawl in between your legs and start kissing and licking and nibbling on your stomach around your bellybutton and your thighs, coating them in love bites.

it’s also extremely arousing to him. he loves hearing all the noises you make, and them getting louder and messier and more embarrassing (as you claim) the closer you get to your orgasm. he can’t help but grind his hips into the mattress, moaning into your pussy, the added vibrations making you groan.

he is always so focused on the task and gets lost in your big pussy lips lapping and sucking at them and your puffy clit as if it’s his favorite hobby (it is). his arms are usually always both snaked around your lower half to keep you in place and so he has easier access and can shove his tongue as deep into your cunt as possible. except for if he’s fingering you additionally to licking your clit ofc. then his right hand will be buried deep in your pussy, desperately grazing your g-spot while sucking on your clit until you start rutting your hips against his face and your grip on his hair becomes tighter. oh how he loves it when you tug on his hair while you’re chanting his name when you’re cumming..

handjobs

he likes them almost as much as you do. he especially loves how you go about asking for one though. he loves it when you sit in his lap, crossing your legs behind his back and hugging him tight for a few minutes, with your head buried in his neck, kissing it and sucking light bruises into his skin before your kisses and sucks move up to his ear and earlobe. and then his jawline. until your kisses finally reach his lips and he’s too impatient to wait for you any longer so he just immediately licks into your mouth making both of you moan at the feeling of each others soft tongues. you keep moaning and trying to keep up with his aggressive licks but your mind wasn’t ready for it yet so you had to pull back. he chuckled. he knew what question was about to escape your lips. you stayed close to him and started kissing your way back to his neck and ear, nuzzling into him. “can you give me a handjob?” you’d ask sucking on the skin below his ear. you couldn’t see but he was smirking. he chuckled lightly. as if he could ever deny you that.

he picked you up in one swift motion and walked to the bedroom with you throwing you on the bed as soon as you reached it. oh how he loved the look on your face every time he does this. you looked about ready to jump him.

“pants off, pretty.” he would demand before positioning himself behind you and starting to kiss your neck and jawline. he would start slow and grope you aggressively while sucking bruises into your skin. the foreplay was part of why you loved handjobs so much. you just couldn’t get enough of his hands on your body.

by the time he would finally bring his hand down to your clit, after whining and silently begging him to touch you already, you were already wet from the foddling and kissing.

and all the praise and dirty talk that was possible in this position was heavenly. his lips were practically sealed to your ear constantly praising you and grunting and moaning in your ear because he knows how much you love it and how much it gets you off.

he loved holding you down with his other arm whenever you’d start chanting his name and wiggling, indicating that you were close.

mating press

missionary is the basic sex position for a reason. it was just so easy to handle someone this way. the look on your face and the sounds you made every time he’d put your legs up on his shoulder and start drilling into you was so arousing to him.

he didn’t care about how “messy and chaotic and embarrassing” you thought you sounded. that’s part of what was so arousing. the fact that he’s making you feel so good you don’t know what to say or what sound to make and don’t even try to tame yourself and instead just let the sounds escape your lips was so hot to him, he wants to cum right then and there.

dickriding

oh how he loved making you cum when you were the one on top. he loved bottoming or subbing and seeing you take control of him and the situation. but he also likes messing with you and he would do anything to hear all the messy embarrassing sounds you make when he drills up into you from below.

the way your eyes would roll back and your moans would become more animalistic at the sudden fast pace was one of his favorite sights to see.

and when it became too much for you and you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore so you’d collapse on top of him and put your arms around him, he would smirk to himself. being able to hold you tight while ramming up into you as fast as possible to make both of you cum while hearing you moan and breathe into his ear was too arousing.

this was originally supposed to be about jason todd (no one’s surprised) but i can also see: hal jordan, dick grayson, roy harper, wally west, toji, nanami, gojo, sae, aiku, karasu, otoya, katakuri, sanji, zoro, shanks, semi eita, atsumu, iwaizumi, tartaglia/childe, itto, laxus dreyar, sting eucliffe, gray, jellal, gajeel, natsu

…

[ravenslvt]

HII I'M OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITINGS ESPECIALLY THE HOT BROTHER RINTAROU AJWJSBSJSJJA 😭

can you write about him overstimulating and making his s/o squirting 👀

☆ bf!suna rintarou x f!reader smut ☆

cw: smut! overstimulation, teasing, squirting, edging, oral f recieving, short but sweet!

it started with a bluff.

“squirting is not a real thing. i guarantee no guy can actually make a woman do that” you scoffed after the topic was randomly brought up in a conversation with your boyfriend.

his eyebrow quirked.

“how much you wanna bet?”

“f-fuck rin!” you moan, his fingers jackhammering into your squelching cunt. you gripped his wrist as he layed you down on your shared bed.

he’d already made you cum once like this, this time his pace is faster, adding a third finger.

“s’too much!” you whine, trying to pull away from his touch as a second orgasm approaches, purley overstimulated from his fingers alone.

“oh, c’mon, baby. you wanted this, didn’t you?” his pace doesn’t rest, your wetness practically dripping down his wrist. you whimper as you feel yourself about to cum again, and you scream when he pulls away.

“whyy??” you pout up at him. you were completely naked and he was still fully clothed in his workout sweatpants and black compression shirt. he looked too fucking good. you could see the bulge of his hard cock through his pants. you reach your hand out to touch it, but he swats it away.

“this is about you, remember? i’ll fuck you as a reward after, okay?” he whispered, kissing you on the top of your head. you nod, pouting at your mean mean boyfriend. what a stupid bet.

“oh don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.” he kisses down your neck, sucking small marks into your collarbones. you mewl as he bites down. his hands reaching back to your thighs as he gets on his knees, your legs hanging off the bed. he grabs your legs to rest on his shoulders as he gives your clit small kisses.

you gasp when his tongue laps at your sopping folds like a starved man. your hands grip in his hair when he sucks on your clit, bringing up his hand to prod three fingers in your already abused hole.

with the combination of his fingers curling inside of you along with the intense suckling on your sensitive bud, your thighs start to shake around him.

“gonna cum, rin!” you whine. but right at the peak, he pulls away, denying your orgasm. you look at him with tears in your eyes, the feeling of your appending climax fading.

“hurts s’bad rinn, need to cum!” you squirm in his grasp. he just gives your pussy a slap, making you yelp.

“you’re such a needy fucking slut, baby. be patient.” he warns, wiping the stray tears from your eyes. you wanted to scream at your boyfriend, but you knew it would only egg him on.

“i hate you…” you mumble.

“hmm, what was that?” his head perks up from your cunt.

“i said i love you, rin!” you give him a fake smile. he rolls his eyes. his tounge teasing your pussy again, making your head roll back into the mattress.

he edged you at least three more times. maybe four? you lost count.

you were panting, sweat certainly dripping down your brow. the sheets below you were fucking soaking. and you still hadn’t squirted yet. he was holding back and you knew it.

your eyes rolled back as his mouth abused your needy cunt, switching between his tongue rolling over your clit and taking it between his mouth, sucking and gently grazing his teeth over it.

all while his three large fingers repeatedly brush over your g spot, curling and straightening out over and over until you were screaming.

finally, fucking finally, just when you thought he was gonna pull away and watch you squirm, he just fucked you harder with his mouth and fingers.

your thighs shook around his head, almost scared you were gonna bust his head open. his fingers pumped into you relentlessly, your screams getting louder and louder as your vision starts to get hazy, seeing black spots from the sheer stimulation.

you moan his name, babbling random incoherent pleas as you clench around his fingers. your boyfriend had made you cum dozens of times before, but this time felt… different.

your eyes screw shut as you shake uncontrollably, feeling yourself release onto his mouth and fingers. you felt yourself pulse around him, hips rutting into his mouth.

“that’s it, doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby, look at you!” suna praises, clear liquid coating his chin and the sheets below you. you’re panting intensely, using all of your strength to sit up to look down at your boyfriend who was grinning like a fucking madman.

“told you i could do it”

great, now you owe him.

the bet was taking the day off tomorrow so he could fuck you all day in bed. in your defense you didn't actually expect him to make you squirt!! rintarou is such a mean bf :( (but you still love him)

masterlist check out my other suna stuff!! :)

a/n: ahh tysm for this ask!! <33 hehe sorry if it’s short but suna nation rise !!

[malereadermaniac]

Long distance - Oikawa x Male Reader

Short imagine to make up for my inconsistent breaks xoxo Top!Oikawa x Bottom!Reader Word count: 368 Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

Just thinkin about being long distance with Oikawa…

The man has to travel A LOT as a professional volleyball player, but he’d rather die than have to choose between his career or you - so you two make it work. The brunette pays for your flights to his games as often as he can, but sometimes it just isn’t possible; which leaves the both of you craving to see each other. It’s gotten to the point that if you asked either you or Oikawa what you two do when you see each other, the answer…. is something that they can’t say out loud.

But for real, all it takes is 5 minuets of hugging and ‘I missed you’s until your clothes are on the floor and Oikawa has you up against a wall, fully just in his underwear - it’s a funny sight really. Oh and having some time apart really does make everything ten times better! This man turns into the stamina king, begging you for one more round so that he can ‘remember this for as long as he needs to’ - it’s shocking how long Oikawa can fuck you for!

Oh and you just know that cocky bastard will be taking photos and videos of your escapades with the excuse of having them as ways to remember you… In reality, this man is straight jorking it at pictures of your fucked out, blushing, tearstained face, and videos of your hole absorbing ‘Kawa’s massive dick like it’s nothing!

This is all to say, yes you and Oikawa are like bunnies whenever you two see each other after a while, but that doesn't at all mean that the two of you are only in a relationship because of the sex. Your boyfriend is a master at aftercare (after years of you teaching him how to do said aftercare!) and this man will jump through hoops even just to talking to you on the phone for 5 minuets. Your relationship with Oikawa is ideal, it just sucks that you can't see him 24/7 - but I'm sure that the man who earns 6 figures will someday figure out a way to have you with him at all times.

This was so shit sorry guys Oh and sorry for acc disapearing but I am at Uni now so posts will be incredibly inconsistent! Sorry in advance

[taintedtort]

"Kyotani!"

your voice rings through the gym, stopping the conversation that Seijoh‘s team was having. said boy turns his head to look at you, a scowl pulling on his lips when you shouted his name like that in front of everyone. he can’t be too mad though, not when you’re waving so enthusiastically, obviously happy to see him.

he grumbles something under his breath before breaking apart from the group to walk over to you, ignoring the gazes of his nosey teammates. they’ve never seen you before, and he certainly hasn’t said anything about you. they’d definitely remember if the Mad Dog had mentioned someone, especially someone as attractive as you.

in reality, you two have been dating for a few months now, though you’re keeping it quiet. he doesn’t necessarily mind anyone knowing, he just hasn’t specifically told his team because he doesn’t want them teasing him about it.

when he reaches you, he grunts in greeting, and you smile as you extend his jacket he lent to you the other day.

"here, i washed it," you chirp, looking much too nice to be talking to someone like Kyotani. he shakes his head at your offer though, waving off the jacket.

"keep it, i never wear it anyway," he grumbles, keeping his voice low so his teammates don’t overhear. his words make you smile though, and you nod eagerly, holding the clothing to your chest.

he can hear his teammates whispering amongst themselves, trying to guess the relationship between the two of you and how you know him. it irks him, and he’s trying his best not to just drag you off somewhere a bit more private to talk to you. he knows that would only make them even more curious though, so he’s stuck standing a respectable distance away from you while listening to his teammates gossip.

"do you wanna walk home together?"

your voice brings his attention back to you, his ears drowning them out as he listens to your sweet request. practice is nearly over anyway, and he knows you were probably waiting for him in the first place, which makes his chest feel… funny.

he only nods in response, gesturing for you to wait outside so he can grab his stuff. there’s no way he’s letting his teammates near you, they’d only bombard you with stupid questions.

"okay! hurry up," you urge, smiling at him in a way that makes his earlier annoyance immediately melt away.

before you turn to leave, you tip toe and give him a quick peck on the cheek, one that has nearly his whole team gawking and gasping. it leaves him a bit surprised too, and he can feel his ears get warm from embarrassment. you look cheeky though, practically skipping out of the gym to wait outside for him like you didn’t just shell shock half the team.

as soon as you’re out of sight, an uproar follows as his teammates surround him, immediately asking questions and demanding details. he just rolls his eyes, huffing out short answers as he goes to gather his stuff.

…brat. ♡

sort of a start of my kyotani series, which will honestly just consist of random drabbles and whatever else i can think of.

[a-pastel-edgelord]

Shinsuke Kita is a man who likes what he likes and gives little thought to things he doesn't. He'll go about his daily routine: rise with the sun, eat, morning ablutions, out to the fields until lunch, take a break, then back into the fields until dinner, do chores around the house then a small past time or two until it's time for bed. Unless it's the weekend or a game day, then he goes to Onigiri Miya to catch up with Osamu, Gin, Akagi and Omimi around lunch time.

However, he finds himself going to Onigiri Miya a little earlier on some days with the hopes of catching you while you're on shift. You're a part-timer and university student—but Osamu has been telling him that you have the chops to run the restaurant by yourself. "I know I don't hafta worry about leavin' for an hour or so. S'good feeling, Kita."

It's easier to like someone if a friend vouches for them. Yes, that must be the reason he's fond of you, because Osamu is. He arrives at the restaurant an hour early—an electronic bell chimes through as he enters. It's busy as usual but there's no line.

"Welcome!" You look up from the register and beam. "Kita-san! I'll call the boss over, he's in the back doing inventory."

Before he can protest, you've bounced away. He hears a muffled conversation the opening of a door and a moment later Osamu takes your place with a raised eyebrow. "Yer awfully early, Kita. S'not delivery day is it?"

"Nah, nothin' like that. Just... Had some spare time."

"Spare time huh." Osamu repeats, like he's tasting the words for the first time. "Well, did ya want anythin' ta eat? The usual?"

"Sure, that'll do."

"Uh-huh." Osamu leans back to shout into the kitchen. "Go ahead and make Kita his usual!"

You respond in a sing-song voice. "Already started!"

Shinsuke can't help the grin that hitches onto his features even as Osamu casts a wary but amused eye over him. The two men make eye contact for a few beats before Osamu sighs. "Please don't go scarin' off some of the only good help I've been able ta find."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah-huh."

But nothing else can be said on the subject because you emerge from the back with a tray laden with food. There's even a side of fried tofu—not typically part of his order. You must have seen him looking because you hurriedly explain, "The boss said you like tofu, so I just did some up. I hope that's ok." Osamu rolls his eyes and walks back to the kitchen, catching Kita's eye as he goes.

"S'just fine." Kita takes the tray. "But I'd like to repay ya."

"You don't have to do that! It's my pleasure." You try and reassure.

"Then it'd be my pleasure to make ya dinner some time. Could do it today, after the game if that's ok?"

As you fumble through saying yes, Shinsuke savors his first bite of food. Yeah, he could eat your cooking for the rest of his life he thinks. It would be a nice addition to his routine.

[forusomimiya]

Ushijima praising your beautiful pussy that he abuses until he sees his cock covered in white. He'll hold your hips and just watch you devour his cock endlessly.

"Don't stop please, keep - fucking me baby. Keep sucking me s-so good… this cock is all yours, all yours babe… keep it up."

[starshays]

tears

suna rintarou x fem!reader

in which : suna notices things about you, such when you're about to cry

warnings : small mention of blood

a/n : first work !!!

suna rintaro was completely and utterly enamored with you. you were just too damn pretty for your own good. he was used to watching you. not creepily just observing. watching your mannerisms. 

he noticed the way you flushed when someone gave you a compliment or the way you carry small hair ties on your wrist because your hair constantly falls in your face. he also knows that before you cry your nose twitches and your lips wobble as you press them together to make it less obvious. but the biggest telltale sign of tears is the way you pick at your cuticles until there’s a tiny bit of blood.

so when he sees all these happen when he’s alone with you, he thinks his world could end right then and there. 

you turn your face away from suna and begin furiously wiping your eyes. “i- i’m sorry rintaro, i- i don’t know why i’m crying and-“ you hiccuped while taking rubbing your face.

suna frowned and grabbed a hold of your hands. “calm down,” he whispered, his words as gentle as his actions as he thumbed your tears away. when you looked at him with glassy eyes and a small pout on your lips, he could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a good few seconds.

you were so beautiful.

“let me see that dazzling smile again,” he said breathlessly, pulling your cheeks up to twist your lips into a small grin. and when he let go that smile was still on your face.

“thank you rintaro,” you tucked your hair behind your ear smiling shyly at him. suna smiled back. “gimme a call anytime those tears come back.”

[yenqa]

THE DAY THAT I MET YOU I STARTED DREAMING | where akaashi finds out he’s in love.

♫ — currently playing… faye webster

warnings — none i don’t think! just fluff <3 actually it’s not really proofread so lmk if there are mistakes!

pairing — akaashi x gn!reader

wordcount — 400

a/n — hi guys! anime phase hitting real hard rn if you couldn’t tell by all my latest works LMFAO i haven’t written for him surprisingly so here u go!

“how do you know when you’re in love with someone?”

“huh?”

he’s yet to find an answer. he’s looked up thousands of questions, read hundreds of articles, and took at least ten quizzes. but the thought still lingers as something mysterious in his mind. something that he doesn’t know the answer to just yet.

“what are you talking about?” you ask, your ears fade into a light shade of pink.

akaashi is patient. he’s a very patient man. for example, when bokuto has his moments on court where you can’t be anything but patient to win the game, or when he’s teaching you the basics of volleyball.

but for some reason his mind itches for an answer. he can’t wait and think this one out.

“i’m being serious.”

“you called me at two a.m. for this? i’m studying y’know!” you whisper yell into your phone, he can see the look on your face. your eyebrows cutely scrunched up and a frown plastered onto your face.

he chuckles lowly, a small fry in his voice because of his exhaustion. “who else would i call for this?”

you sigh, “i don’t know, bokuto? he gives pretty good advice sometimes.”

“his bedtime is nine p.m. he would never disobey his mom.”

“even on the weekend?”

“force of habit, i guess.”

a silence washes over you two. and he can feel that itching feeling once again.

he’s acting irrationally, he knows it. but being awake into the late hours of the night messes with his brain, and makes him do things he wouldn’t even think to do.

the steady beat of his heart grows at a rapid pace, he can feel it almost beating out of his chest.

you start up again, “i guess,” you hesitate for just a second, “you know when you’ve fallen in love when you look at then and realise that you would do anything—or give up anything for them, does that make sense?”

“yeah that makes sense, okay thank you, i’m hanging up now.”

“what? that’s all you wanted?”

he chuckles again, “yup that’s all i needed. bye, i love you y/n. don’t study too hard.”

“i’ll try,” you let out a breathy laugh, “love you too akaashi—wait what?”

he hangs up before you can say anything else.

akaashi is a very patient man. but for some reason he’s the opposite when it comes to you.

yenqa © do not copy, steal or translate.

[ushijimaschubbs]

no thoughts just geto between your thighs in a restaurant bathroom stall because he couldn't wait to taste your pretty cunt with his slobbering mouth, lapping continuously and edging you because he doesn't want to stop eating you out while he also teases you because of how rapidly your pussy is throbbing against his tongue.

[lale-txt]

EXOPLANETS ; Iwaizumi x gn!reader

five times Iwaizumi almost kisses you and one time he does

contains: gn!reader (no pronouns or gendered terms), strangers to lovers, 5+1 things, fluff, mutual pining, diy tattoos, alcohol mention, weed mention, Oikawa mention, shotgunning, five slightly suggestive lines if you squint, a lot of easter eggs and cross-references. written as a gift for @eggyrocks ♡

word count: 4.5k

✧. ┊ ONE

It’s Kyotani’s birthday party and you’re sitting outside on the fire escape, covered in five buckets of fake blood and rolling yourself a cigarette. The wind is icy on your face and the air would smell like early snow if it wasn’t for the dubious popcorn experiments happening in the kitchen right now. You weren’t allowed to smoke inside anymore after someone set one of the dried up houseplants a little bit on fire when stubbing out a cigarette on it (it was just once but the pot was fuming for two days and a half).

Kyotani always brings a mix of the strangest people together. There’s you and your other fellow students from your gender studies class, then guys from his former highschool volleyball team. There is also a bunch of men with face tattoos and a criminal record from his underground fight club (who are currently nailing the choreo to Rihanna in Just Dance), some nerds he met at a Pokémon TCG tournament (you and him once bought a hundred booster packs together while high and he thought he could recover from the financial ruin by winning one of these things) and the small group of housewives from his DND group who he meets once a month.

It’s unclear why Kyotani asked everyone to dress up for this but you’re not mad about having an occasion to drench yourself in fake blood and call it a night. In true Patrick Bateman fashion you also spent hours with excessive skin care prior to the party while you watched your best friend and roommate Atsumu zip himself up in the skimpiest maid outfit you’ve ever seen. It may be early December but that wouldn’t hold him back from showing off his thighs and a bit of his ass cheeks–maybe at heart he was just a 2000s British party girl trapped in the body of a 6’3 athlete. You shared the same cheap cherry lip gloss before heading out in the cold. 

A few drinks into the night and your head starts to hurt, which is when you retreat outside through the kitchen window to your usual spot on the fire escape. With the rolled cigarette dangling from your lips, you pat down the pockets of your suit in search of a lighter. You let out a frustrated groan when you realize you lent it to two guys dressed as Melody and Kuromi and that you’ll probably never get it back, which sucked because it had a kitty cat leaning on an eight-ball while smoking on it and you got it for free from your local conbini girl in exchange for a hand-crocheted triangle bikini top.

Someone taps your shoulder and you almost drop your cigarette if it wasn’t for the stranger’s quick reflexes, catching it for you before it would be gone with the wind. His fingers tilt your chin up a little and he puts the cigarette back between your lips. You look up and meet the gaze of Inuyasha.

Or well, a guy dressed as Inuyasha, but it might as well be your childhood crush come to life. Tan skin, sharp snaggleteeth that weren’t part of the costume but still fitting, and a pair of eyes that feel like they’re piercing straight through you. Your stomach does the little flip thing and you briefly wonder what was in the drinks you let Atsumu mix for you, but that was something to ponder on later. For now you only stare back at him, nodding when he asks if the seat next to you is free.

He sits down close to you and then reaches for something hidden in his sleeve and pulls out–your lighter. 

“Sorry about my friends. They have a knack for never returning things,” he huffs and you snatch the lighter from him, your face cracking into a smile. 

“Very noble of you,” you say, then hold up the light for him when he reaches for the cigarette behind his ear and puts it between his lips as well. His hand comes to cup yours to shield the flame from the wind and for a second your faces are close, so close, before you lean back again, taking a deep inhale of your cig. 

“Cool costume. You watch a lot of movies? Me too,” he says and rests his chin on one palm, looking at you. There’s something about his gaze that makes you feel drawn to him and you briefly wonder what he’d look like without the cheap white wig and also if he’d keep the costume on if you were to hook up with him and ask him nicely about it. 

“Is that so? Name every movie then,” you retort and it makes him laugh. Fuck. He has a really nice laugh.

You lean over and brush a few strands of the plastic hair behind his ears because the combination of the wind and the lit cigarette seems like a potential fire hazard (you learned a lot about fire hazards this year) and you’d kinda hate to see him combust too soon. 

What you don’t expect is him leaning in, almost nuzzling his face into your palm when you do, and looking back at you with a flicker that can only be described as drunk and lovesick. It makes your heart stumble in your ribcage a little. 

“Or you can just tell me your name. Unless you want me to save your contact as ‘Inuyasha’ in my phone. I can do that too,” you add when you pull your hand away, as if you’ve burned yourself by getting a bit too close to the sun. You put your cigarette between your lips and pull out your phone, tapping the screen a few times before glancing up at him again.

“It’s Iwaizumi. Hajime Iwaizumi.”

You think a lot about kissing Hajime Iwaizumi for the rest of the night.

✧. ┊ TWO

Osamu and Suna share the apartment directly below yours and when they text you that they made weed brownies, you didn’t really think about just how many of them they made. Together with Atsumu you shuffle downstairs, not expecting a bunch of other people to be there. Maybe then you would’ve worn something that wasn’t Atsumu’s old highschool club shirt and a pair of velour track pants you bedazzled yourself so it would read “soup” across your butt, but here you are. 

“Is this some kind of side business now?”, you ask Suna when you pull him aside. He has the biggest, shit-eating grin known to man plastered across his face and shakes his head. 

“A bunch of guys from his culinary school said they didn’t know how to bake weed brownies and Osamu offered to teach them, and somehow it turned into a ‘bring your own weed, get a tray of brownies’ party,” he replies and leans a little closer to you, which you know means he has a piece of juicy gossip to share. “One guy here totally got scammed, too. Spent ¥24,000 on some, can you believe?”

You almost choke on the piece of brownie in your hand. Osamu pressed it faithfully into your palm the moment you entered the kitchen, knowing he could trust you with it. Both of you had a very loose definition of trust–to Osamu it meant believing you won’t be dumb enough to eat more than one piece of the brownies, to you it meant you won’t change the contact names in his phones to soup ingredients again, no matter how high, and you both respected that.

“What, was it gold-dusted or something?” You cough and laugh, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes while Suna pats your back with empathy. “What a guy. Introduce us, I need to add him to my dream blunt rotation.”

Your eyes follow the direction Suna is nodding at, somewhere in the living room, and you meet the gaze of Iwaizumi Hajime slash Inuyasha from the fire escape. You start laughing again and head over to him, the sulk written all over his face.

“Not a word. I know, I know,” he groans when he makes space for you next to him on the couch. You squeeze in beside him and hug your knees to your chest, then catch the pillow he’s throwing at you when you can’t stop laughing the second you look at him.

“It’s okay. Actually, it’s kinda cute.” “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” “So what if I do?”

Iwaizumi huffs again and his arm just happens to be behind you on the couch, his fingertips ghosting over your shoulder. Appreciate it, he grumbles, and eventually his face softens when you start telling him some anecdotes of your high life that definitely make the ¥24,000 weed purchase seem a little less dramatic. 

It’s loud in the apartment, with music blasting and people chattering, but you barely register any of it; too absorbed by his eyes that dart to your lips every now and then, and his tongue poking out from between his lips when he does, and the rattling desire in your chest that he could kiss you right here, right now. 

His fingers grab your chin and tilt your face up again, just like they did last time on the fire escape, except now he’s brushing over the corners of your mouth, collecting a few crumbs that were still there. He brings them to his lips, licking them off in one clean swipe of his tongue, and you’re pretty sure you’d let him devour you.

✧. ┊ THREE

Mattsun–the Kuromi from Kyotani’s party–and his friends from the forensics science department are hosting an Addams Family themed christmas party on their floor of the dorm and this time you don’t make the mistake of giving your lighter away. Atsumu is on a noble mission to “get laid by one of the goths” and you’re on your own, but not for long. 

“Oh, it’s you! Almost didn’t recognize you without all the fake blood,” Makki–the Melody from Kyotani’s party–shouts across the room when he spots you in the crowd and squeezes past all the people to clink his drink against yours. “You left quite the impression.”

“That so?”, you ask with a raised eyebrow and Makki gives you a boyish grin. You already have a feeling where this conversation is heading.

“Hajime won’t shut up about you. Like, ever,” he says and links his arm with yours, dragging you to the other end of the hallway. “He’s here too, by the way. Last time I saw him he was winning some kind of arm wrestling contest, but if you ask me people just wanted to ogle at his biceps. Can you blame them?” 

Speaking of the devil, you find Iwaizumi stumbling out of the bathroom, stilling when he sees you. His hoodie is tied around his waist and he’s wearing some baggy jeans and a tight, sleeveless compression shirt that does show off his arms nicely. Very nicely. So nicely you forget what to say for a brief second. 

Makki shoves you into Iwaizumi’s arms before heading off somewhere else, probably asking Mattsun to push him against the nearest wall, and you’re alone with the boy again. He caught you by your shoulders, his hands now resting on top of them while he looks you up and down. You wonder if he’ll do the chin thing again, and maybe if third time’s a charm and he’s gonna kiss you tonight for real. 

Instead he asks, “do you want to check out the tattoo station they set up in the other room?” and because your impulse control has vanished the moment you entered his orbit, you agree without a second thought. Maybe not even a first thought. Ten minutes later you’re wearing a pair of black latex gloves and hover over Iwaizumi who is lying shirtless on his back in front of you.

“Kinda sad you don’t want a tramp stamp. It’d look good on you,” you sigh with feigned annoyance while rubbing an alcohol soaked pad over his hip bones to disinfect that part, trying hard to keep your eyes pinned on there, but it’s kind of an impossible thing to ask of you. It would be a shame if you didn’t appreciate the canvas in front of you.

“Maybe next time,” Iwaizumi exclaims with the confidence of a man who simply doesn’t do the whole ordeal of regretting. It’s admirable, really. “And I let you pick the design of this one, didn’t I?”

That he did. You drew a wonky oval shape on the stencil paper which was kind of impressive as it was, given the drinks you had prior to that. Iwaizumi took the pencil from you and added a similar one, overlapping with yours. 

“That’s two eggs,” you muttered, tilting your head to the side and trying hard to focus–which again, was a hard task at hand, given that Iwaizumi leaned over your shoulder shirtless. He smelled nice. You noticed that the first time you met already. Something between fresh laundry, a spritzer of YSL Y on the side of his nape and a hint of sweat, but not unpleasant. It made you want to dig your teeth into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

“It’s a heart, dumbass,” Iwaizumi huffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, second to how much both of you were thinking about kissing the other. 

✧. ┊ FOUR

When Kenma invited you over to his place for the Bouncing Ball winter party, you were promised free unlimited food and a goodie bag, but all you got was ancient rage and a badly rolled cigarette passed back and forth between Iwaizumi and you.

“I will fucking kill Oikawa with my bare hands,” you mutter under your breath and squeeze the can of lychee soda (branded with the Bouncing Ball logo) that you’re holding a little tighter. 

“Believe me, I’ve tried many times in the past but this bastard always comes back. Like some demon lord or something.” Iwaizumi takes an angry drag of the cigarette before holding it between your lips again. His fingers brush lightly against your skin when he does and it’s the only thing that calms you down a little. 

“Like. The blue shell right before the finish line felt so personal, right?”

Kenma had sent both of you into timeout outside when you almost flung the unstrapped Wii remote towards the flatscreen and Iwaizumi might or might have not punched a hole into the shoji door after Oikawa won the third round of Mario Kart in a row and was being awfully smug about it.

You’re sitting on the backstairs together, huddled close to each other from the cold and the unspoken desire to kiss the other one stupid. With every minute you spend like this your anger vaporizes little by little, until all you can feel is the body heat radiating off Iwaizumi’s body and how calloused his hand is when he takes yours into his.

He’s wearing the hat you crocheted for him, an apology for the crooked hand poked tattoo you gave him a few days prior to today which now adorned his hip bone. At least it wasn’t infected which was a tiny miracle given the circumstances. His face lit up when you handed the hat to him, wrapped in some tin foil because neither you nor Atsumu own gift paper and that’s the most festive you could do with the utensils you had at hand. At least you threw in a little bit of confetti which was now stuck in his dark hair.

You pick some of it off his strands and Iwaizumi leans a little closer. It reminds you a lot of a big cat asking for head scratches. 

“‘s nice, with you,” he mumbles without looking at you and gives your hand a small squeeze. His thumb rubs over your knuckles with unexpected gentleness and your head sinks against his shoulder.

“Really nice,” you agree quietly, allowing yourself to close your eyes. 

The moment could have been perfect. Just the two of you, the stubbed out cigarette at your feet and the sweet taste of artificial lychee on your lips, the slowly falling snow. If only it wasn’t for the backdoor being flung open again, carrying the chatter and the music from inside towards you and a too familiar voice that will surely haunt your nightmares chirping “yahoo~”, making Iwaizumi next to you groan in agony. 

You spend the rest of the night losing another ten rounds of Mario Kart and Oikawa manifests as your sleep paralysis demon from now on, but at least you got to hold Iwaizumi’s hand under the table a little longer.

✧. ┊ FIVE

Hinata is back home from his semester abroad in Brazil. He texted the groupchat a photo of him (wow, he got really tan and buff, you think) and the three giant boxes of oranges that he brought with him and invited everyone over for an impromptu reunion party at his place. 

It’s not as excessive as other parties of your friends, more of a get together that lasts an entire weekend with everyone dropping by and going as they please, as long as they take a few oranges with them. 

You quite literally ran into Iwaizumi on your way there, your hands full with a bunch of books you borrowed from the library prior to that and him almost crashing into you when he skated around the corner on his longboard. He wore the hat you crocheted him again (with less confetti this time) and offered you his scarf and a ride. You almost wish Hinata would live at the other end of the world just so you’d have an excuse to sit cross-legged on his board in front of him while he pushes it slowly for a little longer. 

Maybe he’ll give you a ride home if you ask him nicely. Maybe the right words would fall out of your mouth this time. Maybe he’ll kiss you on the threshold, with his fingers tracing your jaw and your lips parting for him so willingly.

At Hinata’s place you find your way underneath the kotatsu with Iwaizumi by your side. The air smells like hot punch and christmas cookies and you listen for hours to Hinata talking about the things he experienced while abroad. You swipe through photos on his tablet while around you people come and go, and the entire time Iwaizumi sits so close to you that your knees keep touching underneath the table. Occasionally his hand brushes over the small of your back or pulls you a little closer towards him when someone else squeezes beside you, his touch lingering but never overbearing. 

It’s getting late and you should probably go home soon, considering the last looming deadline you still had to tackle before your winter break, but it’s not easy to peel yourself away from Iwaizumi. Not when he draped his jacket over your shoulders and his fingers brushed the nape of your neck, and especially not when he starts peeling oranges for you and starts pushing the slices directly between your lips when you’re too lazy to lift your head. 

You watch him quietly as he does, his fingers that are usually a little bruised and roughed up now impossibly gentle as he digs through the citrus skin, peeling away layer after layer. It’s beautiful, you think. He’s beautiful. You wonder if he could do the same to you, tearing through every bit of resistance you put up to protect your heart, or maybe if it was already bare in front of him the entire time, ready for him to sink his teeth into your flesh.

You hope he’ll peel a thousand more oranges for you in this lifetime.

✧. ┊ ONE, AGAIN

It’s winter solstice and Atsumu and you decide to host one last party at your home before the year ends. Together you go out to buy liquor and one mistletoe (for the festive spark of it all) but the lady from the flower store insists you take all of them for free since they’re closing soon and she would throw them out anyway. So now there’s around fifty mistletoes hanging from every ceiling of your apartment and the entire hallway of your floor, and you briefly wonder just how many mistletoes it would take for Iwaizumi to kiss you tonight.

Osamu begrudgingly agrees to prepare some food since you’d end up raiding their fridge around 2AM anyway if he doesn’t, meanwhile Suna shows you some paparazzi-esque photos on his phone that he took of Iwaizumi and you over the span of this month. For once you’re grateful that he snaps a photo of everything and everyone, because swiping through these makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.

There’s one with both of you smoking on the fire escape, leaning in close to catch the flame of the lighter. You with your legs thrown over his lap on their couch while waiting for the weed brownies, his arm resting behind you on the couch. The moment when Iwaizumi takes his tight compression shirt off in front of you (it’s slightly blurry and Suna blames it on the goths and their shitty lighting). Iwaizumi and you pinning Oikawa to the floor and a Wii controller on the verge of becoming a murder weapon. You napping with your head on top of your folded arms, a plate with some orange peel in front of you, Iwaizumi’s hand in the back of your neck while looking down at you fondly. 

To be adored by Iwaizumi Hajime feels tender and mellow. There’s something magical about it; never loud or overwhelming, and yet never leaving room for doubt how he does love you with his entire being. It comes to him as natural as breathing. A love as toasty warm like a black cat basking in the sun, storing sunshine in every fibre of your soul. 

When you open the door for him later that night, he hugs you longer than usual, his arms caging you in his embrace. He murmurs something about all these mistletoes against the shell of your ear and you laugh.

“I think it’s a dumb tradition, but they’re quite beautiful, aren't they?”, you ask and Iwaizumi pulls back slightly to look at you, his hand cupping one side of your face now. 

“More than just beautiful,” he mumbles, not talking about the mistletoes.

You learn that night that Iwaizumi doesn’t dance (other than Oikawa and Atsumu who are currently destroying the Dance Dance Revolution dance pads in the living room), but he’ll happily spend hours watching you do your DJ thing. Anything as long as he can be in your proximity. He’s leaning back in the chair in the corner behind your pult, a cold Tiger beer in one hand, his chin resting on the other and his gaze never leaving you. It’s like he’s your personal bouncer for the night. You quite like that. It’s an oddly protective gesture but it makes you feel warm and giddy. 

“Someone just asked me if they can snort protein powder off my biceps,” he tells you when you return from the bathroom back to his side. He holds up a cigarette he rolled for you meanwhile. You lean down and let him put it between your lips before he reaches for your lighter stored in his pocket. 

“And did you let them?”, you ask, your face illuminated for the flick of a second when he lights up the cigarette for you. You’re standing between his spread legs and Iwaizumi reaches for your hips, making you stumble a little closer to where he was sitting. His chest is heaving now, his pupils dilating when he lets his eyes wander over you. You’ve seen this expression before, you think. It’s been the same from when you touched him for the first time, back then on the fire escape.

“Told them I was already taken,” he murmurs, almost not audible, and even in the dim light you can see the tip of his ears dusted in a dark pink color. His eyes flick up to yours and his expression is something between pleading and demanding. Oh. 

How brazen. 

He lets out a labored breath when you push him back in his chair, making room for you to straddle his hips. His hands find your thighs, fingers digging into your supple flesh and it’s clear that he doesn’t plan on letting you go for the rest of the night. Or, forever maybe.

You take a long drag of your cigarette and this time it’s you cupping his chin, tilting it up and hovering above him. Iwaizumi doesn’t need to be told what to do, his head falling back, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly before he parts his lips and lets you blow a mouthful of smoke into his lungs. It’s greedy, how he swallows it so willingly, watching you through half-lidded eyes. Hungry. Begging. Adoring. 

He’s in love with you like no one else ever was. 

“I need to kiss you or else I’m going insane.” 

His voice is hoarse, strained. As if he is clinging to the last bit of his resistance and sanity. In one swift movement he snatches the cigarette from your lips with one hand and carelessly drowns it in his half-empty beer bottle, his other hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you closer to him again.

“Please,” he huffs and it sounds like he’s pierced with ten swords, in agony over not feeling your lips against his. “Pretty please.” 

Your arms wrap around him and you kiss him. During the longest night of the year it’s like the sun is rising just for you. You don’t think, just let the feeling wash over you as your body melts against his. Iwaizumi lets out a quiet growl and kisses you back, gently at first, until your tongue slides against his and his calloused hands against your bare skin start trembling slightly. He’s using every ounce of self-restraint so he wouldn’t devour you on the spot. He knows you’d let him and that is a problem. 

“Took you long enough,” you mumble against his lips once you pull apart to breathe, which could have been an hour later or a lifetime. Time becomes a blur under the soft caress of Iwaizumi. He mirrors your smug smile, stealing another kiss from your lips.

“I’ll make up for it,” he rasps, closing his eyes when you rest your forehead against his. His hands on your waist pull you impossibly closer again, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, caressing the sliver of skin there. He lets out a quiet hum, a sound very close to purring. “Gonna kiss you stupid till you forget your own name and can only remember mine.”

“Silly,” you huff back and kiss him again. “Is this a threat or a promise?”

“Both. With you, it’s both.”

a/n: hi eggy ily!! your wishlist was spectacular and i had a lot of fun writing this for you (at some point it got a little out of hand i'll admit lmao). hope you enjoyed your gift and that the rest of your 2024 will be warm and tender. trying not to get sappy here, just know you always leave such a mark with anything you write, it's something i deeply admire. happy holidays & all the love for you <3

[takes1]

final part. one night stand aftermath with needy!tsukishima

sorry for the wait :0 this is a looong one. last installment! thanks for supporting ya'll. if you want more tsukki, just let me know

warnings. nsfw. minors DNI

details. fem!reader / rough sex / counter sex / porn with plot / flirting / one night stand aftermath / trust issues!reader / needy!tsukki / timeskip!tsukki / apartment setting / communication / a deal being made / 3.1k words

links. my masterlist. [part one, part two.] more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN.

Your breath grew shallow under the weight of his hand on your upper thigh.

It was funny, your confident, split-second choice not to wear anything under your skirt this evening suddenly all you could think about.

Tiny glances. To and from the glint of his glasses in the sunset, the dashes on the road zipping by as he took you back to his place, the tendons working on the top of his hand as he squeezed your supple flesh, hungry- though his eyes gave no indication.

His car was not impressive, but it was exceptionally clean and maintained well. It helped more than anything else, more than any of his mannerisms in particular, to put you at ease.

The first and last words you had exchanged was about the music about six minutes ago. It was kept at a low enough volume to talk over, but no such conversation got off the ground. So, it was quiet and you sat alert, tummy in knots (some good, some bad) with clammy palms and a racing heart.

This state of uncertainty didn't get much better as you made your way upstairs into his apartment.

Where was the kind-of-sweet guy working part-time at the museum? Every time you met him again, it was like his personality had done a complete 180 and you needed to relearn how to talk to him.

You both stood a moment in the doorway, slipping off your shoes. He grew about four inches taller and immeasurably more imposing. You caught a tiny smirk on his jaw.

"Why wear heels?" He asked, toneless.

You squinted across the entryway, careful to not be accusatory nor provide any reference of height to boost his ego, "Because they're cute."

When you decided he was attractive that Friday night, his height was secondary.

Tsukishima lingered for a moment, a faint smile on his mouth, all wrapped up in something you said or how you said it. He shook his head and walked towards the kitchen without inviting you.

Yeah, his height was trivial compared to the complexity behind his eyes.

Again, you were left wondering what to do- you followed, of course. But it was out of hesitant assumption and not because he made it easy.

His head turned away when you entered.

You didn't have time to guess if he was waiting or not before he asked, "Would you like anything?"

It was vague, but since this was the kitchen, you settled on water.

The way he sank and slid, slow and tedious from his spot to grab you a glass made you hold yourself in doubt. But, he was smiling.

"What's so funny?" You had to ask.

Worry was apparent on your brow. He couldn't see it turned around.

"You still don't trust me, do you?"

You couldn't clean up the shock on your face before he saw it. It was exactly what he was looking for, apparently. He still thought that was funny.

You struggled to craft a response that was both articulate and true, "I guess I don't. I don't know you."

It lingered in the air for a few seconds. In fact, those seconds felt so long that you began to question your choice to come here. You thought to exactly where you put your shoes.

He looked contemplative. He crossed his arms, but not to close himself off. "But we still fucked."

You laughed at him, at the absurdity.

"I know."

You repeated, shaking your head, "I- I know. What, are you trying to guilt trip me over leaving? I know I hurt your feelings, but I don't owe you anything."

The island separating you felt bigger.

He blew a breath, brow raised. You regretted saying it that way. He just made you nervous.

But he laughed again, "Jesus, uh..." He picked up your glass and closed the distance, arm up as a little surrender to your words, "I guess you're not wrong."

He settled next to you, side flush against you when he handed you the glass.

You stared at it, tapping, and considered your options. You opened your mouth and took a breath to apologize.

"Don't say sorry," He stated. He met your eyes for a moment, then shook his head with a little smile, "I like that."

Heat crawled up your neck and inspired you to down all the water in your hands. You set the empty glass aside and wiped your mouth with your forearm. He thought it was cute, but kept it to himself.

The facts were as out there as they were going to get for you; he didn't do one night stands, he was convinced he had met a 'nice girl' and took you home, got his feelings hurt when you left, he probably thought it was fate that you met at the museum, but... now, what did he want?

"I don't trust you either," He admitted, moving slow to pin you between his arms, against the counter.

His eyes gave you no indication of what he meant by that. He looked mean. Like he could really hurt you, or your feelings at a minimum.

A flash of apprehension spread across your face. You looked to the left and right, then back at him, who found your little panic charming.

His indescribable intensity was why, when he closed the distance to kiss you, you paused.

He sighed against you for a second, then slowly straightened out. It took you a second because you were dumbfounded by how out of place his sudden affection felt, but thought it preferable to his ominous and vague nature.

At least when he was kissing you, you didn't have to guess.

Before he could take your hesitation to heart, you stretched up, hands clasped on his shoulders, in his hair, to return it tenfold.

His tongue was familiar and his lips were comforting. He leaned into you, trapping you against the counter, but it steadied you both.

God, why didn't he start out with this?

A soft moan shared between your lips sent him spiralling- his hand clutched your waist, under your flimsy little shirt, and his thumb rubbed against your tummy, rendering you a little weak in the knees.

His body felt perfect against yours. No room for second guessing.

He parted for a moment, and you caught the strangest look in his eyes. An intensity that making out shouldn't have warranted- a pain that was beyond an overdue erection.

"I...ah, I can't-," You gasped between his extra kisses, "Figure you out-!" Your hand flew to support yourself when he lifted you off of your feet from your hips.

You locked your legs around his waist, and nearly missed when you grabbed for his shoulders. It didn't matter much, but it startled you. In your panicked searching, you couldn't even find the brown in his eyes.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the feeling of you through his pants. That little no-underwear detail didn't go ignored earlier.

"Mmnyou don't have to," He muttered dismissively.

There was no chance to question further before he took your lips hostage once more, his hand firm against the back of your head.

Though logically, his evasiveness was concerning, it did nothing short of send an addictive current straight down your spine. Thinking grew tough, quickly.

His tongue was easier to deal with than your doubts. After all, you were always just a hook-up, anyway.

A squeak caught in your throat at the way he pushed you into the cold counter, the way he loomed over and blocked out the overhead light except for the tips of his golden hair, the way he made sure you didn't bump your head on the way down.

It was difficult returning his rough kisses. For the most part, you focused on just taking them instead, but that became nearly impossible when he started to roll his hips into yours.

Perfect, warm waves crashed over you and kept your legs heavy and weak. It was all you could do to keep up with him.

"F-uck," A choked sigh against the shell of your ear made you twitch, "I'm not gonna last for shit."

You giggled at his soft, disappointed admission. He put his face in the curve of your neck and wrapped his other arm around you. It was tight. Secure, as you rolled your hips over the outline of his cock.

"We'll go a few rounds tonight, yeah?" Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to sound.

A long inhale, taken from in your hair you couldn't help but notice, and he gave an approving hum against your neck in a long, tingly kiss.

He freed an arm to hold your wrists above your head, the other tracing up your shirt to tease your chest.

That little pout you gave him earned you a quick, rough kiss into more possessive ones all along the side of your neck- it paired well with the cruel pinching under your shirt and his heavy burden between your legs.

Soon, you were panting, dizzy and sweaty with just one thought in your head.

"You're-- ah-h, optimistic," He was just short of asking.

His little moan made your hips automatically buck- you couldn't wait around to take him again. His grip, once you expressed the desire to free yourself, was laughably light.

The metallic sounds of his belt coming undone and his zipper lowering percussed your sultry, sarcastic tone well, "Stop trying to figure me out."

Shuddery breath caught in his throat as you pulled him out. It hadn't been too long since the last time, objectively speaking, but the feeling of his warm cock in your hands was one you desperately missed.

It slowly started to feel more right after that.

You didn't have a grasp on who he was, what he wanted, what he was thinking- but when he pulls back to at least press a slow, longing kiss to your soaked pussy under your skirt, it feels right.

It feels simple. Something you were more comfortable with, more used to. Certainly an easier feeling to navigate than this serpentine man, holding you with devoted fingers, but staring you down like you had wronged him.

He got carried away, mouth sticky and hot around your aching clit, big hands shoved up your shirt to scour every inch of you he hadn't remembered well enough the first time. Now he'd never forget it.

"Mm-! Ok-ay, okay, please--," Your whine, your squirming, was tended to immediately.

His hand slid and covered so much of your neck, jaw- the whole side of your face, in fact, that you felt your skin burning underneath it. He smothered you in a wet, sloppy kiss.

When he pushed into you, you couldn't help but think of the first time.

"Oh-h," You seethed at his size, only finding that it made him grip you harder, like he was holding you together, scared you might break apart.

Your squeak at the sensation was higher, your eyes wider, as you found his gaze low and almost plaintive.

It was different from that night. You were both a little drunk, but still. He was excited, confident, more twitchy. Faster, in a lot of ways. It came across as rushed to you and it helped justify leaving when you did. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy the passion, or the absurdness of being carried up the stairs like that, but you figured he was a one-trick pony. Like most guys.

Now you felt like you were the one rushing things. He held you still by the fat of your hips when you tried to get some friction.

His kisses were softer. Deliberate and savored. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

He was perfect, beating slow and smooth between your thighs, your bodies intertwined like you wanted, but it left something to be desired. You wanted his expression to be that of lust, not whatever this was.

"What's- ah-h--, what's'wrong?" You whispered against his lips.

He pulled away to look at you, glancing around your features with that same pitiful look. Where was the passion? His charming, kinda mean, -but impressive, nonetheless- one liners?

"Do you want me?" Was a whisper right back, the mix of warmth and minty coolness in his breath a tingly shock across your face.

He didn't look in your eyes for very long once he realized the answer was not quite ready for him.

Scanning your body instead, he found many worthy things to distract himself with. Chief among them was in the form of making you take even longer to give him a response.

A gentle, slippery prodding around your clit made you gasp.

"Mm-! God," You whined, eyes rolled back as you fought to understand what he meant by that, "I want- ah-!..."

He was biting the inside of his lip with a quiet chuckle, memorizing your pretty frame twisting, writhing underneath him as you struggled to take him and get played with at the same time. Like a tired old art critic, waiting to understand the meaning of a masterpiece.

"I want you-," You sighed, luring his attention to your face again, "I- I want you to- tell me-,"

He finally laid off for a second, his hands instead grabbing at your hips to bring you further down on his cock. Your neck looked a little too plain, now that he was thinking about it. If you left, he wanted you to leave with something of his. He started working deep marks on your throat.

Your low, approving moan encouraged him.

You sighed, honest and plain, letting your nails scratch through his fluffy hair, "Tell me- you won't hurt me."

"I couldn't hurt'you," He quickly muttered against your bruising skin.

You were almost, not quite but almost, as fast. "Make me a deal, then."

He liked the sound of that. It was more practical than a promise. More real, something you could both risk for a perceived reward each. You didn't know it yet, but you really knew how to appeal to him.

His long fingers stretched over your thighs, lifting them to tease you a little from a different angle. Part of him wished he had waited to take you upstairs. You couldn't do much on the counter.

"I- ah, won't leave," You seethed as he stretched you out like that, brow furrowed at the addictive intensity, "As long as you don't hurt me."

The way he held your words in his head before he responded was unexpectedly attractive. Contemplative, he traded one of your thighs for your needy clit again and grinned at how you tightened around him.

"Deal," He leaned up to kiss you, like a handshake, of sorts.

If he kept this up, you wouldn't be able to last very long. You loved how he took care of you himself, and didn't leave you to figure out your own pleasure.

He clearly wanted to tick every box, make sure you noticed it, too, so that you could be grateful to him.

You were both smiling more after your little agreement.

Before you could get too lost in it, there was some low thudding just above you.

Everything stopped for a scary moment.

You instantly looked at him when you didn't understand the sound right away, for some sort of reassurance it was just the apartment settling, or a cat upstairs. His brow was still furrowed, concerned as he looked up, his eyes tracking the sound in the ceiling.

"What the hell is that?" You whispered, a little harsh, but justified.

His face fell seconds after your question was left hanging, unanswered. He looked defeated.

"My-," He sighed, grimacing as you adjusted under him, "My roommate, I... forgot he was here."

It seemed so stupid for a guy you pegged as so intelligent. The raw reaction in his eyes made it clear that fucking you right here wasn't deliberate.

Your body relaxed again. You were wholeheartedly glad it wasn't a criminal or a ghost. It made way for confusion as he started to explain that his roommate doesn't usually come out of his room at this time, but that you should both probably head upstairs anyway.

Though it pissed you off on the surface, it doubled down and validated the realization that he didn't have everything so figured out. Taking you on the counter wasn't something he sketched out and made a reality- he just wanted you that badly.

He tried to pull out, but you locked your legs around him so he couldn't move. His jaw worked, his eyes searching yours, his brows upturned. God, he looked like he'd fall apart like that.

Your chest tightened with shock and the raw, tingly pride that came with feeling special.

Your fingers laced around his neck; he didn't offer up any resistance as you pulled him in close.

Warm breath spilled across the side of his face. He couldn't help but lean into it.

"Well, don'tstop now," Egged him on; echoed in smaller, more desperate pleas the closer he fucked you to completion. When he was just beginning to think he could get any more obsessed with you.

His lids lowered at your words, his eyes rolling back in the sockets as he put the weight of his head in the nook of your collarbone.

Though he seemed to soften in the face, his thrusts got stronger. It felt like he was filling you up more and more, leaving you gasping and clawing at his wide shoulders.

"Mm-n-Ah! Fuck-!" You whined, with no regard for his roommate, while he shoved you off the edge.

Your orgasm was well-deserved- the delay, the conversation, made it that much more intense. You felt like you could actually start to trust this guy, so you let him have the best of you.

When he came, warm and sticky all over your tummy, you didn't even think about how your shirt and skirt were still half-on, meaning he had effectively ruined all the clothes you brought with you. Normally you'd be pissed off.

But you just wanted to watch him cum, too.

His little whiny noises he thought he had covered up were loud, his gasps and little curses flattering, leaving your head buzzing.

His body became heavier for a minute, now that he was tired, before he stood back up and pulled you with him.

Everything was quiet again, as you both looked to the ceiling, then at each other, and waited. No sound.

"Sorry," He mumbled, clumsy, reaching for his glasses so he could see how bad he ruined your outfit.

Now you took the time to notice the difference in how his glasses made him look; a little nerdier, a little cuter.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and put your forehead to his chin.

"I'll just steal some of your clothes, if that's okay with you."

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[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend's older brother have to be so hot?? :(((

☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.1) ☆

cw: smuut! p in v, v fingering, fluffy, lowk sweet, implied virgin reader, unprotected sex.

pt. 2 pt.3 pt.4

you sigh at the empty water bottle on the nightstand. you look over at your best friend, ami. she was fast asleep. you smiled, glad you were able to visit her on your break from university. you were grateful her parents let you stay over while they were out of the country for some sort of work meeting.

back to the important matter, your thirst. you slowly get up, trying not to wake your dark haired bestfriend. grabbing the tin water bottle and tiptoeing downstairs, making sure to close the door to her bedroom quietly on the way out.

you walk through the familiar halls of the house you’ve known since you were young. all the lights were off except the kitchen light.

walking in, you notice your bestfriend’s hot ass older brother, rintarou, leaning against the kitchen island on his phone. he was wearing his usual loose sweatpants, and a tight fitting t-shirt from your old highschool. it used to be loose on him, it was clear he’s been working out more and gained more muscle. his head perks up, he pauses whatever he was watching and speaks.

“hey, didn’t think anyone was still awake.” his voice is low and a little hushed.

you don’t notice the way his eyes go to your attire, small little sleep shorts and a tank top.

you notice he’s heating something up in the microwave as you reach the fridge, unscrewing the cap to your water bottle to refill it. you watch as the bottle slowly fills, talking to him.

“ami fell asleep and i was thirsty. she always passes out so fast” you softly chuckle. she was always the first to fall asleep at sleepovers, even in your childhood. girl was a deep sleeper.

“mmm” he simply hums, returning back to looking at his phone.

you turn back to face him, taking a refreshing sip of water.

“whatcha watchin?” you lean on your elbows against the counter, peering over at him.

your relationship with suna rintarou was…. friendly to say the least. he was only a year older than you and ami, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a (fat) crush on him since middle school.

you remembered the exact moment your crush on him had started. you and ami were twelve and rintarou was thirteen. you were at the suna’s family beach house for summer break.

you and ami relaxed in the sun, reading your assigned reading books together and laughing over how dumb you guys thought the plot was.

“seriously, this guy is so lame. he just mopes around and smokes cigarettes all day. dude’s gonna have lung problems” ami rolled her eyes at a certain line of the book.

you giggled and opened your mouth to say something to agree. until a volleyball came flying at you full speed. your eyes widened and you just froze. you two were aware rintarou and some of his friends were playing a game of beach volleyball a few feet away.

you flinched and put your arms up quickly in defense, but never felt impact. you look up to see a teenage rintarou who dived to grab the ball before it hit you.

“you good?” he called your name to get your attention. you just nodded, hiding the flushed state of you face with your book. he made a comment on how he read it in english class last year and if you needed any help on the work, he had your back.

“go away, rin. she doesn’t need your c- average help” his sister retorted as he walked back to his friends. he turned his head to give a small chuckle. you never forgot his smile since then.

back in the present, he takes his eyes off his video for a moment to look back at you.

“my game replays. hey, come watch this and tell me if you think furuhashi fucked us over with this serve” he did a ‘come here’ motion. you were at his side within a moment.

you peered at the phone screen over his shoulder. his phone looked so small compared to his large hands. he replayed the video for you to watch. you focused on the teamate he pointed to and it looked like he did a purposefully bad set, aiming right at the opponents head.

“ouch. seemed like he had personal beef with number eight….” your face scrunched in the way the opponent immediently fell to the floor from such a powerful blow.

“yeah, dude let his emotions get the best of him and got the rest of us in trouble with the ref for it” he shuts his phone off, sighing.

“you have another game next week, right? ami wanted me to go check you guys out.” you grab your bottle from the counter.

taking another sip of water, a small droplet spills past your mouth, down your neck, and disapears into the curve of your breasts. you notice the way his eyes follow the bead of water.

his eyes meet yours. and before he can open his mouth, the microwave beeps loudly. he quickly gets up to take the food out with a quick curse, hoping the obnoxious beeping didn’t wake anyone up.

he takes the steaming plate out of the appliance. you notice he heated up some cold pizza you guys ordered earlier in the night.

your eyes go back to his broad shoulders and arms, down to his large veiny hands. he’d matured a lot more since you’d seen him last.

you caught yourself staring, starting to feel a little awkward. you suddenly start to get a little hot, despite what little clothes you wore. you step away to leave the kitchen. your thoughts ran rampet of his hands. you pictured them touching your hair, your arms, your-

“where are you going?” his eyes are only on you now, his arms leaning against the counter to look at you.

“i- um should probably get back to ami” you gulp.

“why? isn’t she asleep? come hangout with your real favorite suna” he smirks, taking a peice of the hot pizza into his mouth.

you roll your eyes and fake scoff.

“don’t let your sister hear you say that, she might believe it” you cross your arms, eyeing him.

he swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin and smiling.

“i mean, it’s the truth. isn’t it?” god he was so cocky today. but you loved it.

“and what makes you think that, rin?” you played along. you step a little closer, this time you lean your elbows on the counter facing him. accidentally giving him a front row view of your cleavage through your thin top.

you see the way his eyes drop to your tits. oh you had him.

“cause, you think i’m cuter” his eyes flicker back to your own. he shrugs casually, a smug smirk on his face. his food now forgotten in his mind. only thing he wanted now was you.

“sure, whatever you want to think.” you sarcastically remark back.

he laughs, circling the kitchen island so now you had nothing between you except about a foot of space.

“oh i don’t have to think it, pretty. i know it” shit, he was getting closer and your heart was only beating faster.

“you’re delusional, rintarou.” you aren’t laughing anymore, smile fading to a more serious demeanor. you were nervous and he could tell.

he smiles, running a calloused finger down your arm. it left a trail of fire down your skin and your breath hitched.

“is that why you’re always staring at me. you think i don’t notice?” his voice is lower now, quieter.

fuck. he knew.

“as if you don’t oogle at me whenever i’m in a swimsuit.” you refuse to look away from his gaze.

he lets out a small chuckle. it was hypnotizing.

“i ‘oogle’ you no matter what you wear” he admits, almost proudly.

you eyes widen for a moment. you try your best to hold it together. his hand played with the ends of your hair. you two had never stood this close before.

you felt the flimsy fabric of your panties start to dampen.

“what’s got you all quiet?” his hand moves from your soft locks to hold your chin, forcing you to look right at him.

“screw you, rin” you retort, flustered. he snorts.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” his face only got closer to yours.

you guys were so close, you had forgotten you weren’t the only two in the house.

“in your dreams-“ you start.

“knock that shit off. admit you want this as bad as i do” he says your name. your faces were now inches apart. his eyebrows furrowed and he just looked so attractive. he was studying your expressions, his eyes never leaving your face.

“rin i-“ you start again. this time his lips hover over yours, ghosting over your own.

“tell me to stop and i’ll go back up to my room and we will never speak of this again.” his hand moves to cup your cheek, his forhead resting on your, giving you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t want to pull away and he didn’t either.

finally, after what seemed like years of tension, you snapped. going up on your tipy toes to crash your lips on his.

his hands immediately draw to your waist, holding you as close as possible while your hands wrap in his soft dark brown locks.

years of unresolved feelings and tension all poured into one heated kiss.

his hands gripping your waist moves down to your hips, he turns you so your rear is against the counter. how convinient his hips are the perfect height for the kitchen island.

you let out a soft gasp as he bites your bottom lip, he smirks and gently prods his tounge into your mouth, seeking permission first. you lean your head back to let him kiss you deeper.

he was fully addicted to your lips.

he pats your hip and you take it as a sign to hop on the marble counter, he helps you jump up. he slots himself inbetween your thighs, your lips never pulling apart.

“fuck. i can’t believe i haven’t tasted you sooner” he says in between kisses. you giggle at the way he refuses to pull apart from you.

he just grips your waist tighter, his cold hands slipping under the fabric of your tank top. you gasp as he reaches for your bare tits, lifting the fabric to rest above your breasts. you never wore a bra around him. and of course he always noticed.

he gave your perky tits a firm squeeze, you mewl into his mouth as he gently pinches your hardened nipples. his cold fingers adding an extra chill.

rintarou’s hips press gently into yours. you could feel his erection through his pants. you grip his hair tighter at the feeling of his clothed member rubbing against your clothed clit.

you unlatch a hand from his hair and bring it straight to his hardness. he hisses as you rub him through the pants. he could feel a small wet patch forming in his boxers.

“shit, take these off” he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your sleep shorts, you lift you hips for him to shimmy them down your legs, you didn’t even notice where he put them. you didn’t really care.

you were left in your little lace panties. he gave a lopsided smile at how prepared you were. it was like you knew he was gonna fuck you tonight. or maybe you wore these all the time around him, just waiting.

“this wet already?” he sucks in a breath, running a finger over the growing wet patch on your panties. you just nod and focus your gaze on his long fingers. you wanted them so bad.

“rin, please” you grab at his hand that was teasingly brushing over your clothed clit.

“stop teasing” you pout at him. he looks up at you and gives you another kiss.

“you’re too cute not to tease.” he pulls away and pulls your underwear to the side, spreading your legs more. he curses at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing it was all for him.

he runs a long finger down your folds, causing your grip on his wrist to tighten.

“so worked up, aren’t you? no one ever touch you like this before?” he asks, continuing his motions up and down.

“n-no rin, just you.” you breathily admit, a bit emberassed. it was the truth though, he was the only one you really wanted over the years.

he lets out another curse at the thought of being the first guy to touch you in this way. he was straining against his boxers, his loose sweatpants suddenly feeling so tight on his hips.

“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” he looks you in the eye, serious. you just nod.

“wanna hear you say it, baby” he pulls his hand away from your cunt.

“yes rin, i swear” you assure, shimmying to the edge of the counter to be closer to him.

he smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead before prodding his middle finger into your tight hole, spreading your wetness to make sure you were ready.

he slowly enters you and you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. he gives a few slow experimental pumps of his finger before you were asking for more.

“this ok?” he whispers in you ear, kissing your neck.

“god yes. more please” you plead in a quiet tone, trying your best to keep silent.

he chuckles and adds his ring finger. just two was enough to stretch you out. it was a delicious pain of his large digits splitting you open. you couldn’t even imagine how good his cock would feel.

you bite your knuckles to muffle the sounds of pleasure you were making. but nothing could cover the wet noises coming from him finger fucking your pussy.

his wrist started to ache, but it was worth it to see the way you were taking it so well. he curled his fingers, doing a ‘come here’ motion inside of you. you let out a muffled curse as your legs started to shake.

he kept pumping and curling his fingers over and over. his long thick fingers reached places your little hands just couldn’t.

“i think i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a soft moan, still trying to be quiet.

he just kisses you through your orgasm, groaning into your own mouth. your pussy squeezes around his fingers and he swallows up all your noises. he imagines how you’d feel squeezing his cock like this, while his other hand groping your tit, pinching your nipple. you arch into him and pull away from his lips to breathe.

you pant and look at him, face completley flushed, he slowly removes his fingers. his hand was coated in your cum. he gives your chest a few small kisses, accidentally leaving faint marks on the skin. not an accident at all.

he was panting too. you looked at him, curiously. your eyes go down to his pants. there was an obvious wet stain in the front.

“did you….” your eyes go wide as he flushes with emberassment.

“m’sorry you were just so fucking hot i couldn’t-“ he starts, but you cut him off with your lips. you were immediately aroused again, but this time the only thing that could satisfy you was his cock.

you paw at his sweats, shaky fingers clumsily trying to untie the drawstring. he grips the back of your neck with one hand while the other helps take off his pants. he starts to stroke himself until he’s hard again, still recovering from blowing his load in his pants.

you swat his hand and give his cock long strokes. you finally get a good view of it. he wasn’t small by any means, but not obnoxiously large. it was a delicious size that made your mouth go dry. there was a certain blue vein that ran down from his tip, your finger running over it, making him hiss.

he noticed you staring and encourages you to continue, his thumbs rubbing your thighs in comfort.

you swipe your thumb over his slit making him shiver like a small dog. his tip was so sensitive. you move to try and hop off the counter to get on your knees, but he stopped you, gripping your hips.

“if you do that i won’t be able to last.” he pets your hip sensually. you pout.

“don’t give me that look. next time, i promise” he pecks your lips and your heart flutters. so there will be a next time.

his head rests on your shoulder as you continue to stroke up, switching from pumping it to teasing his tip. he stopped you once his hips started to sputter. he was like putty in your hands at this point.

“p-please” he says your name, panting.

“i need to be inside you. i need to feel you so bad, baby please” he begs, kissing your neck, leaving darker marks in his wake.

you whine at his words, using your legs to wrap around his hips, his cock sitting right above your needy cunt.

“fuck me already, rin” you give his cock a few more pumps before lining him up with your wanting hole.

he does as yous say, slowly pushing in, his mouth gaping wide and his head falls back once he’s fully inside of you.

now your head rests on his chest as you encourage him to move. he slowly pulls out then back in with a powerful thrust. you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out. surley leaving a mark.

“ohmygod rin” you can’t help but chant out his name as his thrusts quicken. you were praying ami was still asleep or she would totally hear the sounds of his hips slapping into yours.

“shh. gotta be quiet, kay? don’t want your friend to hear you getting fucked by her big brother do you?” he clasped a hand over your mouth, you unconsciously squeezed him tighter. your eyes screwed shut tight.

“fuck. you’d probably like that wouldn’t you? want everyone to see how badly you want my dick?” he groans in a hushed tone, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper. he was loosing control.

he gripped onto your hips to stabilize his pace. you guys never broke eye contact as your mouth hung open silently, trying so hard to keep quiet. he smiles at how fucked out you already looked.

“rinnn” you whine.

“m’right here, pretty” he kisses you once again. one of your hands takes purchase in his (now) messy hair, the other one gripping onto his strong arm. you were sure you were clawing into him with your nails, but he didn’t seem to mind.

you were getting close already. he moaned into your mouth as you tightened around his cock. he fed you simple praises from his pretty mouth, encouraging you to cum.

your thighs tightened around his hips, wanting him to be even closer, if that was even possible.

“i got you, baby. let go” he whispers inbetween kisses.

he bites your lip as you cum on his cock, squeezing him in every possible way. you whine into his mouth, the kiss now turned so messy a bit of drool fell from your mouth.

he fucked you through your orgasm as you shake in his hold, he was holding back his own until you were satisfied. you started to mewl from the overstimulation of his veiny cock pounding into you.

he pulls out, pumping himself until he finishes on your thigh, letting out a hushed moan of your name from his lips, making you squeeze around nothing. both of you breathing heavily.

after you both cool down from your highs, he looks at you, full of admiration.

“you did amazing” he kisses your cheek.

once your mind fog clears, the realization hits you. you just fucked your childhood crush, your bestfriends brother. a part of you feels a little guilty, but the other part of you wants nothing more than to do it again.

he notices your hesitation, placing a gentle hand on your hair so soothe it down.

“hey, you okay?” he asks. you didn’t even notice when he had pulled his pants back up, or when he put your top back in place over your tits.

you give him a soft smile.

“i’m okay” you assure him.

“good” he smiles back, he grabs a nearby kitchen cloth and wipes off his spend from your thigh.

“gross, rin. people use that towel” you scold.

he just shrugs “i’ll throw it in the wash”

you both knew in your heads you couldn’t tell anyone about this.

it was your little secret.

suddenly, rintarou’s phone lights up from across the counter. he puts your panties back in place, grabbing your sleep shorts and putting your legs through them so you could put them back on. he snatches his phone for you both to see.

‘WEATHER WARNING: all schools in the area shut down for another two weeks’ the notification read.

your eyes widen. looks like you’d be staying at the suna’s house for a lot longer than you thought.

the next morning

“ouch, looks like your girl maimed you” ami laughs over her waffles. you sit next to her, pouring the syrup over your own. rin almost chokes on his food and your head snaps up.

“what?” he says with a mouthful of bacon. ami points to the scratches on his arm and the literal bite mark on his shoulder. your eyes go wide. you made sure to wear a hoodie to cover your own marks.

“aww rin hooked up with a wolf!” you add, trying not to raise suspicion. he squints his eyes at you, swallowing his food.

at least he had the decency to wipe down the counter before we ate.

“something like that” you eye eachother before turning back to your breakfast.

this was gonna be a long stay.

masterlist

a/n: i kinda wanna make this a mini series lollll lmk of you’d like a pt.2 (this is highkey ooc but idc!!! its fanfiction!!!! i love my fake man fr)

[taintedtort]

" SURFER GIRL! "

summary. brazil!hinata x surfer!reader

warnings. afab!reader, post!timeskip

a/n. wrote this bc of @/garfieldissocool . just a drabble idk

the ball slams into the sand with a dull thud, the sun hot against hinata‘s bare back. beach volleyball is always fun, a little bit harder, but more carefree. the atmosphere is more friendly, less competing to actually win the game.

the other team has possession of the ball, and he’s honestly starting to feel a little antsy to jump. as the opposite side prepares to serve, hinata glances out towards the sea. it was supposed to be a quick sweep of the beach, just because he needed to calm himself for a second. but something else catches his attention. it feels like a pull to his heart, a gut feeling that drags his gaze to you. he zeroes in on your frame in the water, stood on a surfboard and gliding with the waves of the ocean.

now, hinata knows close to nothing about surfing, but you’re staying on the board, so you must be pretty good, right? you’re doing it effortlessly too, like it’s as simple as walking to you.

for some reason, he can’t look away, his brain won’t let him. he's seen lots of surfers, they’re always out when he’s on the beach. he’s always thought surfing was cool, but he’d never tried it, too caught up with volleyball to try anything else. he keeps watching you, though, forgetting about the game that’s still ongoing around him. he’s impressed at first, impressed that you’re able to keep your balance so easily, but as you get closer to shore, he notices that…

oh… wow.

you’re beautiful.

he's seen many women in his time in brazil, but none like you. none as pretty or as intriguing as you. he’s never been interested in dating or girls in general, even in high school, he was always busy with volleyball. he still is. all he really thinks about is volleyball, that’s how it’s been for years.

but…

there’s something about you. maybe it’s your hair, or the way your skin looks wet, or perhaps the carefree look on your face. he isn’t sure, it’s just… you.

he decides right there that he has to meet you, he has to talk to you and find out what your voice sounds like. he has to see you up close, to get to know you.

however, before he can even move, the ball is flying into his face, hitting him on the side of his head. a sharp sting follows, and he falls back in the sand with a grunt, his hand rubbing at his skin. his eyes shoot back to you though, and suddenly you’re looking at him. he can’t even hear the sounds of his friends laughing or asking if he’s okay, can’t hear the sounds of the ocean or the seagulls flying overhead. all he can see is you. you and you’re pretty smile as you try to hold back a laugh.

he isn’t even embarrassed that you probably saw him get hit, and he isn’t embarrassed that he’s blatantly staring at you. he’s too enthralled by you to feel anything but attraction. his chest feels tight and fluttery… is this what love feels like? this is sort of how he feels when he eats good food, or when he gets a point.

after a handful of seconds, he finally regains his composure. after unscrambling his brain, he forms a coherent thought.

he's going over there.