🥵🥵😩😳 Besties The Hyperfixation Worked Hard But The Devil Worked Harder

⩩  𝘺𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘵𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘪𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴 // ꒰ 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑙 ꒱

a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time. 

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall. 

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes. 

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you. 

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them. 

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.  

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?” 

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head. 

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek. 

“you sure are,” he says, warmly. 

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.  

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality. 

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second. 

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout. 

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you. 

and you still don’t feel like a guest. 

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine. 

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass. 

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own. 

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine. 

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch. 

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?” 

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’” 

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest. 

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper. 

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect. 

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more. 

“you are,” you argue. 

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day. 

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting. 

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere. 

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.” 

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.  

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree. 

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh. 

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back. 

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head. 

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement. 

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be. 

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies. 

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand. 

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down. 

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind. 

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall. 

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can. 

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark. 

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer. 

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours. 

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep. 

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again. 

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them. 

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things. 

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”  

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“samu,” you whine. 

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore. 

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does. 

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one. 

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face. 

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly. 

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little. 

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses. 

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you. 

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.  

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment. 

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert. 

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it. 

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets. 

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine. 

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will. 

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours. 

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him. 

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them. 

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock. 

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock. 

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.” 

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face. 

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.” 

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you. 

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something. 

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going. 

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod. 

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms. 

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it. 

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer. 

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t. 

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t. 

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you. 

“what now?” you mumble, not moving. 

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him. 

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket. 

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs. 

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now. 

you look happy there. 

you look really happy there.

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites @buckys-hoeee @avfox24 @reinertiddiejuice @poke-pia @its-simply-me19 @nahcho @sugamonster22 @destinyg237 @msbyomimi

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)

by assasinduckie

Gay bars were really not his thing. That’s what he had said to Kuroo when he offered it as a solution after hearing him complaining for an hour about not having gaydar. Kuroo’s answer to that had been “don’t knock it until you’ve tried it”, and a text with the bar’s address, and hence, he was here.

or

It’s Tsuki’s first time at a gay bar and his bartender is a chirpy boy that’s too nice and smiley to be his type… right?

Words: 5324, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Haikyuu!!

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Hinata Shouyou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma, Kageyama Tobio

Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kageyama - Relationship

Additional Tags: my first AU!, wanted to write coffee shop AU, but i wrote gay bar AU instead, Happy Ending, no smut cause i just didn’t feel like it, it’s heavily implied tho, backround kagehina, backround kuroken

Karasuno!!!

not fair - ch4

in which your boyfriend is perfect in every single way... except for one and kei can't just sit back and watch you suffer...

previous | ch4 | next (coming soon) [masterlist]

// "what? you want to watch me fuck your ex?" ~ ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʏᴀᴍᴀɢᴜᴄʜɪ ᴛᴀᴅᴀsʜɪ ~ 12431 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter/tw: 18+ minors dni super nfsw!, cheating (seriously, major plot point), threesome, cucking, vouyerism, size kink, weird feelings, use of character first names, degradation, oral m!receive, dom/sub undertones, coming untouched, stop light system, dirty talk, name calling, coming twice, plot-heavy, cross posted from ao3, afab reader she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

If you could’ve never returned to this place, you wouldn’t have. If you could’ve left it all behind, ran away from the thought of confrontation and explanation, honest to God, you would have. 

You waited it out as long as you could, made do with the things you had at Kei’s place so that you didn’t have to go back to that house, to the space you and Tadashi had once shared. It was annoying, sure, having to figure out how to function without any of your things, but it sure beat the alternative. 

You wanted to convince yourself that this was the rest of your life, living down the street from everything you’ve ever known and owned, but never making any attempt to bridge the gap. 

But you couldn’t survive like this, you knew that, not without your entire wardrobe and your laptop and all of the furniture that you could have considered yours. 

So, yes, if you could’ve never returned to this place, you wouldn’t have. And, absolutely, if you could’ve left it all behind, ran away from the thought of confrontation and explanation, honest to God, you would have, but unfortunately, that’s not how it works, this whole having an affair with your boyfriend’s best friend thing.

So you were there, begrudgingly, standing in front of the front door that you used to push through every single day without a second thought, the key weighing heavy in your pocket as you opted to knock instead because it wasn’t yours anymore with Kei in tow behind you to lift all of the things that you had no interest in moving and also just because you’re not sure you could have done it on your own.

When Tadashi answers the door, when you see him in front of you for the first time in two months you realize that maybe you’re not the only one that’s been sulking in dread since the moment you made these plans. He looks good, better than you expect him to look considering the circumstances, but maybe you just had low expectations.  

He doesn’t greet you, doesn’t acknowledge Kei behind you. He barely looks you in the eyes as he speaks, detached, but not nearly as annoyed as he has every right to be. “Most of your stuff is still upstairs except for the few big things in the living room and kitchen.”

You can see past him inside the house, can see everything in seemingly the same way that you left it, picture-perfect and undisturbed, but you don’t make any move to break the barrier, not even when he turns on his heel and nods towards the upstairs. It’s not until you feel a strong hand on your lower back, encouraging, but not pushing, that you snap out of your own thoughts.

“I’ll start on the few things in the living room and kitchen and you can get whatever you need upstairs. We’ll be out of here fast,” Kei assures, because he knows that you need some type of affirmation just to step inside the house. 

“Right.” 

You expect it to be this big feat, this huge mountain to conquer, stepping back into what was once all you knew, but it’s not. You step over the lip of the front door, carefully and cautiously, and when the tip of your shoe skids across the welcome mat, you feel no different than you did on the car ride over. You can still feel the tightness in your chest and your palms still feel clammy, but that’s it. 

There isn’t any realization that hits you as you walk into the living room, nor is there a huge revelation that takes over you as you peer up the stairs and imagine your old room just the way you left it. When Kei’s hand leaves your lower back, when you’re on your own in foreign grounds, you’re okay. It’s not this dramatic, overwhelming experience. It doesn’t have to be. 

It’s the same thing walking into your old bedroom. This task that you’ve been dreading for as long as it’s been set in stone, and even before, feels, dare you say, manageable. It’s not the same as how you left it. For one, the drawers to Tadashi’s dresser are closed neatly and his bag isn’t lying open on the floor with miscellaneous clothes hanging half out of it. But more than that, the bedspread is completely different down to the sheets and the pillowcases and the curtains are changed, the ones that you helped Tadashi pick out, and the entire room smells like him. This room is no longer a culmination of the two of you, it’s undeniably his just with the pieces that you left behind. 

“I would’ve packed it all up, but I didn’t really want to touch it,” Tadashi comments, sliding an empty box towards you as you approach your dresser.

He’s not lying. You notice, now, how your things are all untouched, strewn across your dresser in the same way that you left them before the fight: a bottle of fragrance with its cap on the other side of the dresser, an open moisturizer, a burnt-out candle, things that could have been tossed without a second thought that he couldn’t so much as push to the side. 

“No, yeah, that’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head as you start to clean up the mess you left all those months ago. 

It’s not a monumental feat, sure, but it is so disgustingly awkward. 

The room is quiet save for the sounds of scrapping furniture from the floor beneath you and the sounds of drawers opening and closing. You have nothing to say to one another anyway. No, that’s a lie. You both have things that are clawing at your throats, things that are fogging your heads so badly that it feels almost hard to breathe, but neither of you is saying any of them.

For you, it’s mostly apologies, better ones than what you left him with that night or what you left on his answering machine numerous times, ones that you’ve thought endlessly about, ones that you mean wholeheartedly even if he wasn’t to accept them, ones that are trying so hard to come out, but are trapped. 

You don’t know what it is for Tadashi, what’s going on in his mind right now, or why he looks so conflicted and distracted. You have a few guesses, inclinations that feel right given the situation you’re both in, but you don’t prod. You move in silence, slinking past him a few times before you notice that he hasn’t moved in a while, stuck in the same place with the same facial expression with the same book in his hands.

You stop pacing, stop packing your things. He doesn’t notice your cease in movement, or if he does, he doesn’t show it. You want to say his name, call out to him and ask if he’s okay, because you’re not sure that anyone’s asked him that in a while, but you can’t get it out of your throat. Instead, you reach out, gently wrapping your fingers around the book and pulling it out of his grasp. 

The contact doesn’t shock him, but it does prompt his moving. He lets his arms fall back to his sides and he turns to look at you, really look at you, for the first time since that night. 

“I don’t,” Tadashi sighs, “why?”

“What?” you ask, because those three words, despite how filled they are with emotions that you can’t quite place, aren’t enough for you to understand. 

“You said that it was bad… with me… but how bad was it?” he asks, so slowly that you’re sure he’s handpicking every single word.

“I-,” you start because you don’t want to leave the question that he’s been internally struggling with all day unanswered, but then you stop because you just can’t fathom answering a question like that. Out of all the things you thought you were going to talk about today, your failed sex life with Tadashi was definitely at the bottom of the list. “Sorry, what?” you ask again, not because you needed him to repeat, but just because you needed time to think.

“How bad was it? Our sex?” he asks again and you struggle to identify the tone that he’s trying to convey. You want to hear the annoyance, the hatred, the disgust, the judgment, but you can’t find any trace of animosity. You don’t reply, still trying to conjure up some sort of response, so he keeps talking, desperate for an answer, “How could he be so much better?”

And then you hear it, not sadness or betrayal, but confusion, no, curiosity.

“I think about it a lot and I can never come up with an answer that makes sense, but I think it’s just because I don’t know enough,” Tadashi continues, mumbling now.

“Dashi,” you start, hesitating for a moment only because the nickname feels so foreign on your tongue, “I don’t really know how to answer that.”

“Honestly,” he says, the curiosity still lingering, but a sense of urgency and entitlement motivating it, “That’s a good place to start.”

“It might be because you don’t know enough,” you offer, using his own words to try to soften the impact. “Kei knows what he wants and he’s precise and he takes care of me, not because he has to, but because he gets just as much pleasure from it as I do.”

He flinches at the sentence but nods along anyway. 

You feel like you’ve said too much already, but Tadashi’s facial features have morphed into a look of intrigue and you can’t help the details that continue to spill from you, “I think with us it was like we were both…” you trail off, trying to find the right words, “Kei has this control, this power over me that I can’t explain, one that you never did.”

You watch the intrigue shift into something else for only a split second, something that looks eerily familiar in this setting nonetheless. He shakes his head, brows furrowing as he fights off the conflict that he’s feeling. “I just, I don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense to me and I wish that it did. I wish that I could understand how he could be so much better than I am,” he says, exasperated and frustrated. “If I could just see-” He doesn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence. 

“What? You want to watch me fuck your ex?”

The voice comes as a shock to both of you, backs turned away from the doorway that Kei now stands directly in the center of. His arms are crossed over his chest and he doesn’t have to be towering as tall over top of you as he is for you to feel as small as you do, but it definitely doesn’t help. 

You’re not exactly sure why you’re feeling this embarrassed. It’s not you that the question is directed at and it’s not you that’s almost pathetically incriminated by your own words. It feels like Kei knows something now that he shouldn’t. That conversation was private, the things that Yamaguchi was admitting to you were private, and now Kei knew them all. You don’t know how much he heard or how long he had been standing there, but you know that it was enough to warrant the permanent cocky grin on Kei’s face. It’s borderline ironic, the embarrassment you were feeling from the lack of privacy given that this is exactly what landed you here in the first place. 

“Is that what you want?” he asks, louder this time, a patronizing laugh following right behind it. 

“Kei,” you begin to object, but he puts his hand up, pointer finger extended up to quiet your attempt to de-escalate the situation, and it works. Whatever argument or defense that you were going to spew has dissolved into nothing.

Kei walks forward, slowly, towards the two of you. He doesn’t say a word, gives Yamaguchi ample time to protest, but he doesn’t. Yamaguchi is standing next to you, stuck in place, his eyes perfectly on Kei as he approaches you. 

“Do you want to watch me do all the things to your ex that you couldn’t? Do you want me to physically show you so that you understand?” Kei asks Yamaguchi, but he’s staring directly at you, closing the gap between his lips and your face, leaning down so leisurely, waiting for some sort of objection from either party. 

His lips brush up against your ear, his breath floating over top of your skin so lightly. Your eyes flutter closed, your breath already uneven as you wait for the contact, but it never comes. Instead, it’s just words, confirmation and the antecedent that you’re so used to by now. “You know the scale, baby. This works the same way, okay? If you get uncomfortable, just say the word,” he says into your ear, soft enough so that Yamaguchi can’t make out what he’s saying. 

You nod and he presses a kiss to your ear, “Good girl.”

He pulls away far too quickly, his absence just making you want him more, but he’s facing Tadashi directly now, forcing his gaze, not physically, but just from the command of his stare. “I’m going to need some sort of verbal consent before I destroy your ex right in front of you, Tadashi,” Kei says and the tone of his voice is so perfectly reminiscent of how he used to talk to you in the beginning, stern and abrupt enough to elicit a response from anyone, especially someone as awestruck as Tadashi.

“Yes,” Tadashi answers, finally. You’re expecting some sort of withdrawal, or regret at the very least, to settle in after and you think Kei is too, but it doesn’t, not even in the pause that Kei allows once Tadashi’s finished speaking. 

“Yes, what?” Kei asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes, I want to understand,” Tadashi responds, the confidence in his words quickly decreasing as he realizes how humiliating it all actually is. 

“No,” Kei denies, his attention fully on you once again, his hands sliding up the sides of your neck to cup your face between his palms. 

“What?” Tadashi asks, evidently confused as he watches Kei begin to touch you. 

“No. That’s not what you’re saying yes to,” Kei explains, softly stroking the sides of your face, “You’re saying yes to sitting there and watching me fuck your ex. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Tadashi says, dimly and not nearly as confidently as the first time, but it’s an agreement nonetheless. 

The second that the confirmation comes out of Tadashi’s mouth, you hold your breath. You don’t need to see the way Kei’s wicked grin spreads across his face or feel the way that his fingertips dig into the back of your neck to know that he was going to put on a show for Tadashi tonight at your expense. 

Kei steps backward, your face still clutched in his grasp as he drags you with him, 4 long strides until he’s colliding with the edge of what used to be your bed. Tadashi’s left standing in place, his back to the dresser as he watches Kei sink into the bed until he’s seated with both of your legs on either side of his own. 

Kei hooks both arms around your waist, pulling you into him, hard, until your stomach is pressed against his chest, and then down, slowly, so that your body rubs against him until you’re seated in his lap. He nudges your head to the side, exposing your neck and humming at the clean canvas in front of him.

He drags his teeth down the side of your neck just hard enough for you to feel the path even when he’s pulled away. He replaces his teeth with his tongue, running the tip of it against your skin before sucking patches of it into his mouth. You let your eyes close gently, focusing on the feeling of his tongue repetitively swiping against the sensitive areas of your neck, and for a moment you forget that Yamaguchi is in the room with you entirely. 

Kei molds his hands around your body, letting them conform to your curves as he slides them to your waist and plants them there, tightly. His fingertips dig into your sides, holding you perfectly still as he grinds his hips up into you. You couldn’t hold it in if you tried, the whimper that escapes your lips at the feeling of his growing length. 

Kei laughs loud enough for everyone in the room to hear it, shows you both how pathetic he thinks you are for acting the way you do in response to such a small movement. He moves his fingers, grabbing at the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head, quickly throwing it to the side. You have no time to even think before he’s unhooking your bra, kissing down your neck to your collarbones as he discards it as well. 

You’ve been naked in front of Yamaguchi plenty of times before, but it’s so different now. Kei is undressing you as he wishes, stripping clothing off of you at whatever pace he wants. You have no control of what Yamaguchi sees or doesn’t see and it’s making you flush in a way that you never have. You’re sure that they can see it, both of them, the way your body is reacting so involuntarily to whatever Kei wants to do to it. 

He pulls off his own shirt so that he can feel his skin against yours so that he can show Yamaguchi how in control of the entire situation he actually is and you’re so acutely aware of how fast everything is moving. His fingers are on the button of your pants, working so effortlessly to undo them, kissing down your chest as he does so before pulling away. 

“Go on,” Kei states, a smirk pulling at his lips with his hands planted firmly at your hips, “Show Tadashi everything that’s no longer his.”

You hesitate, not moving despite the fact that Kei’s thumbs are pressing into your hip bones, pushing you backward. He doesn’t push harder when he feels the resistance. He stills, cocking his head, holding back a scoff as he speaks again, lower, almost offended, “Do I have to repeat myself?”

You shake your head, standing up from his lap and slipping your thumbs into the waistband. “My underwear too?” you ask because you don’t want to get it wrong. 

“What do you think, Tadashi?” Kei asks, looking past you now at Tadashi standing in the same frozen place that he was minutes ago. 

“Yes,” he answers, perhaps too eagerly for how quiet he is. 

“Wrong.”

Tadashi jumps, unaware that the question of what he was thinking had a wrong answer, but he tries again regardless, “No?” It comes out more like a question. 

“Wrong,” Kei repeats.

Tadashi opens his mouth, brows knit together in confusion. Kei doesn’t help him, doesn’t offer guidance, but you know exactly what he wants to hear. It’s quiet in the room for a few moments as Tadashi tries his hardest to understand, to get it right. 

“What do you think, Kei?” he finally answers.

“Good boy,” Kei praises, only letting the gentle cadence linger for seconds before directing his attention back at you, hand slipping into his own waistband as he strokes himself to attention inside his pants. “Take ‘em off.”

You pull them down, facing towards Tadashi as you discard them. You can feel eyes trained on you, both Tadashi’s and Kei’s, and it’s causing a heat to rise into your core and the highs of your cheekbones. You don’t have time to revel in the feeling of exposure that’s taking over you, because Kei is already calling you back over. “Come be a good girl for me.”

When you turn to face him, you watch him spread his legs, his head tilting down to the floor between them as he pushes his pants and boxers to his ankles, exposing himself completely. He doesn’t look any bit remorseful or embarrassed. If it were at all possible, you’d be convinced that he looked somehow even prouder than before, being on display in front of your ex as he barks out commands that you listen so well to.

And you do listen, walking over and taking place between his legs on your knees, sitting back into your heels as you wait for whatever he tells you to do. You know this game well, know how perfectly obedient you have to be when he gets like this, how small of an error you have to make to be punished. “Be on your best behavior, now, okay? We’ve got guests,” he coos at you, sliding his fingers under your chin and curling them against your skin. 

You nod, once, just a short movement of your head for him to know that you will, indeed, be on your best behavior. No taking your own liberties or trying to get a rise out of him on purpose or pushing the boundaries of what you could and couldn’t do, you were going to be good. 

You sit there, perfectly still, not moving at all as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, angling it down so that his head rubs across your lips, smearing the beads of precome that have already accumulated. He places it gently between your lips, parting but not passing them. 

“Lick your lips, baby. Taste it for me.”

You run the tip of your tongue against your bottom lip and then the top, staring directly up at Kei as you do so, savoring each drop that he left behind. Your tongue barely makes it back in your mouth before he grabs your face. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” you say, urgently, overlapping the end of his question, but he doesn’t seem to mind, not when your gratitude to him is so instinctual. 

“You want more, don’t you? You want to feel it down your throat, don’t want to be able to breathe, right?” he asks, already lining himself up between your lips. 

You answer without hesitation, “Yes, please, Kei.”

In an instant, his hand is on the back of your head, fingers laced into your hair as he pulls you down on his cock in one fluent motion. It takes everything in you not to gag at the way his head jams against the back wall of your throat. He holds you there, your lips at the base of his cock as he groans at how warm you are around him. 

You’re waiting for him to pull you off completely or, at the very least, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he doesn’t. Your hands are gripping onto his thighs and your eyes are shut so tightly trying not to tap out, trying to show him and Yamaguchi how good you can be for Kei. 

“Stay there, baby, you’re doing so good,” he praises, but you can barely focus on the words. The grip on his thighs is getting weak and he can feel you trying to gasp for air around his cock and he still has so much more planned for you so he pulls you forcefully off of him. He uses the fistful of your hair to guide your attention, your chest heaving and mouth agape trying to get in as much air as you can. You can feel the spit dripping down your chin and are only now aware of the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Look at Tadashi. Show him how pretty you are when someone knows how to use you,” Kei coos. 

You turn your head just far enough to make eye contact with Tadashi and however you thought that he was going to react is completely thrown out the window. He’s staring at you, wide-eyed and timid, swallowing thickly as his eyes scan every inch of your face. He might even be more affected by Kei using your throat than you were. 

“Isn’t she pretty, Tadashi?” Kei asks, talking about you as if you weren’t sitting right between his legs. 

Tadashi nods but doesn’t say anything, too shocked, you’re sure, to form thoughts, let alone sentences and responses. 

“Back at me,” Kei commands, any ounce of adoration gone from his tone now, “Open.” You move to turn back to Kei and you catch it so briefly, the tent in Tadashi’s pants that twitches at the sound of Kei’s voice. 

You open your mouth as wide as you can manage, breathing consistently as you wait for his cock. He slips back into your mouth, more attentively this time, letting the underside of his cock slide against your tongue so that you can feel every pulsing vein and wrinkle of skin. “Close your lips around it, nice and tight like a little hole for me to fuck, okay?”

You hum around his cock in acknowledgment and form a tight ring around him. “I’m going to get as deep as I can and you’re going to swallow around me.” You hum again, the vibrations of your lips causing him to shudder. “Keep your eyes open, look directly at me.” There’s this authority in his eyes, one more intense than the ones he’s had in the past, one that’s so sure that you’re going to obey him. 

And you do. And you will. 

He pulls you deeper onto his cock until your face is pressed against his skin. You struggle to keep eye contact with him in this position that he’s forced you into, but you still do, desperate to keep listening to him. You swallow around his hard length, allow the ring you’ve made around his cock to loosen for only a moment as you suck in all the juices that you’ve created so that you can swallow again. Your throat massages his length and his head and you know how good you’re being for him because the fist he has in your hair tightens, his fingers shaking as he mutters a fuck . 

“Fuck, look how well she listens,” he groans, talking about you, not at you once again and you can feel yourself flood because of it, from being talked about, over top of, as if you’re not even in the room, like you’re not on your knees being used like a whore. “I’m going to fuck her throat now. I think she’s earned it, being such a good girl for me.”

Kei continues, “Watch closely. You’ll see how much she loves being used like this.” He starts moving your head up and down his cock, letting your spit coat his cock and drool onto the base. It’s forceful, but it’s not the worst that you’ve endured with Kei’s cock in your mouth. Until he lifts his hips off of the bed to meet your face, thrusting upwards to slide down your throat as far as he can and as hard as he can.

He wraps his fingers around your neck to feel the bulge that he’s created. He presses his fingers into it, groaning as he massages his length through your throat, simultaneously not allowing you to breathe. “God, you’re so fucking good.” You swallow around him again, trying to pleasure him in whatever way you can, trying to prove to him that you’re so fucking good, but you can be better. You stick your tongue out, gagging at how deep he is, convulsing around his thick cock. 

And then your mouth is empty. 

You look up at Kei, clearly now that your head isn’t bobbing violently around his cock. You can see his toned chest rising and falling and the look in his eyes of fading composure and you feel much prouder than you probably should given the amount of control you even had in that situation. “What?” he asks, breathy, but still just as much of an asshole, “Do you want a prize for doing what you were supposed to?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. He leans forward, his mouth positioned directly above yours and you know what’s coming so well that you open your mouth before the word has even finished coming out of his mouth. He spits down your throat, harshly so that you don’t even have time to appreciate the taste. 

“Thank you,” you say without prompt. 

“On the bed. On your back. Legs spread. Heels into the mattress,” Kei barks out, paying no mind to your gratitude, despite how much he knows you want to be praised for it. He stands up from the bed, giving you room to crawl onto the middle of it into the exact position he’s described. 

“This is how you liked to fuck her, huh, Tadashi? Missionary? Was it so that you could see her pretty face while you fucked her?” He grabs your face, rests your chin in between his thumb and his pointer finger and then claws all five digits into your jaw. He jerks your head in his hand, showing you off to Tadashi, your eyes half-lidded just waiting for Kei to finally fill you. 

“There’s no way it could look as wrecked as it does when I fuck her, so I don’t really see the appeal for you,” Kei says, and then he stops moving, turning with your face still in his hand as he looks at Tadashi, “Or was it because you just didn’t know any better?”

Tadashi doesn’t answer, not with words anyway, rather, he mumbles something inaudible. Kei ignores whatever he’s trying to say. It was a rhetorical question. He didn’t need Tadashi to answer. He already knew the answer. 

Kei moves onto the bed, right in between your legs. He hasn’t touched you, has only used your mouth for his own pleasure, and yet, you’re so dripping wet that there’s already a dark spot on the blankets below you. He places an open hand on your stomach, pressing down to hold you in place as he rubs the tip of his cock between your lips, moaning at the feeling of your wetness slicking his head. 

“Sit,” Kei commands, but it’s not to you, it’s to Tadashi. He doesn’t point or gesture, just stares at the edge of the bed that neither of you is occupying. 

Tadashi listens after a moment of reluctance, taking slow, careful steps towards the side of the bed that Kei was looking at, as if moving any faster would result in punishment. You can feel the dip in the bed and you turn your head to look at him. There’s uncertainty painted all over his face, but the curiosity still remains. 

Your attention returns when you feel Kei push inside you just enough for you to swallow his head. He moves his hand from your stomach and his hand from the base of his cock and he uses them, now, to grab any part of your body that he can touch. He lets his fingers curl over your skin, kneads your tits and brushes his thumbs against your hard nipples, scratches red marks down your neck and chest, anything to keep your focus on him and not the third-party observer. 

You’re so busy focusing on how handsy he is, on thinking about where his touch will float to next, that when he slams inside of you without warning, a high-pitched scream tears from your abused throat. His hips are pressed against the insides of your thighs and he doesn’t move, just stares down at your doe-like eyes as you silently beg him for more. 

He pulls out of you, leisurely, feeling how tightly you’re squeezing around him, suctioning him back in. When he fucks into you again, you’re more prepared this time. The sound that leaves you isn’t a surprised scream, it’s a thankful groan. You know that if he wanted to, he could make you come in seconds, but he’s drawing it out, letting Yamaguchi watch how destroyed you get from such slow, methodical movements. 

When he sets a nice pace, fucking in and out of you, purposefully missing your g-spot so that the pleasure is coming only from how deep he’s going and how full you are, the surprise aspect fading away, for now, you’re intently aware on how close Tadashi is sitting next to you. If you were to reach out your arm, you could touch him. He was there, sitting on the bed, watching you get fucked better than he could ever manage. 

You turn your head to face him once again. You want to know what he looks like while he’s watching you and it doesn’t disappoint. His lips are parted so slightly and they’re sheened from spit as he keeps licking his lips and swallowing harshly. Your eyes follow his neck and his heaving chest and you catch a glimpse of how hard he is for only a moment before Kei’s hand is grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look back at him.

“Don’t look at him,” Kei snaps, his hips slamming into you harsher now, the sound of them slapping against your thighs getting louder, “Look at me. Focus on me. Don’t pay attention to him. He’s just there to watch. I’m fucking you.”

You stare up at him, eyes unfocused as they dart around Kei’s face and you want to listen to him. You want to be absolutely faultless for him, but when Kei mentions that Tadashi is just here to watch you, Tadashi whimpers. It’s soft and you can feel the embarrassment radiating off of him the second that it happens and you want to see him.

Your eyes wander for only a moment, flicking to the side to see if you can catch a sliver of whatever Tadashi looks like right now. The entire situation is so new, everything is developing so quickly, and you want to listen, but you’re just as curious as Tadashi is. Kei’s fingers dig into your chin harder, his hips pressed flat against yours in an instant as he speaks through gritted teeth, “Do you want him to fuck you?”

You start shaking your head, verbal disagreement coming out of your mouth, but he interrupts you, “No, that’s fine. He can fuck you and I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“No, no, no, no, please, Kei, I’m sorry,” you babble, the words leaving your mouth on pure necessity, “I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave. Please fuck me.”

“Then fucking pay attention to me,” Kei pulls out and fucks the breath right out of your lungs, “only me.”

Any amount of curiosity you could feel doesn’t outweigh the need you have to be fucked so rawly right now. Tadashi isn’t even a second thought anymore. 

“Yes, fuck, okay,” you nod, tears filling your eyes as he starts to pound into you again, “only you,” you murmur repetitively as he picks up speed. You don’t ask before clasping your fingers together behind his neck, pulling his head down to your level, and pressing his forehead into yours, but he doesn’t protest. His chin is pressed against his sternum, looking down at your body and the way that every inch of his length is being swallowed by your hole. 

He can feel you tightening around him like you always do when you’re about to come. You don’t even have to tell him anymore, he just knows, but you know that he likes to hear you anyway. You talk softly, the admittance feeling like betrayal given the other person in the room, but your want to appease Kei overrides that tenfold. “Gonna come,” you murmur. 

“You want to watch her come?” Kei asks, and Tadashi doesn’t even try to hide behind reservation, “Like, actually come? Not fake it like you typically see her do?” Tadashi’s nodding fervently, no remorse or apprehension to his desperation. “Well then, let’s show him how good you actually look when you’re coming all over a nice, thick cock, (y/n).”

He picks up the pace, pistoning into you faster than he was before, reaching one of his arms down to rub tiny circles into your clit, and angling his cock to rub against your g-spot right as you reach your edge. You pull Kei into you deeper as you come, your fingers gripping around each other and Kei’s neck as you clench around him. Thank yous are leaving your mouth incessantly, one after the other so quickly that they’re overlapping.

He doesn’t stop after you’ve finished, keeps going with his repetitive motions that brought you over the edge, knows that you’re already feeling sensitive from your first orgasm and uses that to his advantage. “That wasn’t enough. Come again. Show him how much power I have over you that he never did.” And you do. You’re screaming this time, nails digging into the back of Kei’s neck as he brutally fucks into your hole as it floods even more. 

“Look at Tadashi when you’re finished. Tell him how good it was,” Kei says, and you don’t see his face, not when you’re so delightfully blissed out from two consecutive orgasms, but you can hear the smirk in his tone. Kei pulls away from your grasp and without the grounds that his strong body was giving you, your arms fall to your sides. Your head falls against the pillow, ear flat against it as you look at Tadashi.

“It was really good, Dashi. He made me feel so good.” It slips out of your mouth without much thought, your brain on autopilot, just listening to Kei’s directions and you only notice the weight of them as Tadashi’s eyes widen. He’s marveling at the power that Kei has, at how quickly you listen to him, and how harshly he made you come in such a short amount of time and it looks like it clicks. 

It looks like he understands now, the difference between him and Kei, the reason that sex with him wasn’t as good, how Kei is so much better than him, why Kei deserves the attention you’re giving him, why he deserves to be ignored, and he’s not mad. He wants more. 

“How else did you like to fuck her?” Kei asks and when Tadashi doesn’t answer right away, he continues, “I know that there aren’t a lot of options to choose from, so this shouldn’t be too hard.”

Tadashi speaks, stammers through his words because no matter what answer he comes up with, it won’t be a confident one, “Um, I- Doggy style.”

“Yeah?” he asks as if he didn’t know all along what his answer would be. “On all fours,” he orders. “Face Tadashi so he can actually see what you look like when you’re getting wrecked, okay?”

You turn over, positioned on the bed on your hands and knees with a direct line of sight on Tadashi who is staring at you in awe. No matter how humiliating this is for you, it’s nothing compared to what Tadashi is sure to be feeling right now, but it seems like he’s soaking in it. You feel Kei move behind you, hear him spit onto his cock and then line himself up, pressing forward between your lips.

Kei roots both of his hands onto your shoulders and you close your eyes in anticipation. He pulls you back onto his cock, thrusting his hips to meet you halfway. He uses the grip on your shoulders to control his movements so precisely, to dictate how much of his cock he’s giving you, no matter how much you’re begging.

“You want more, sweetheart?” He lets the name drip off of his tongue like venom-laced honey. You’re not sure if he sees the shock that washes over Tadashi’s face or if it even matters to Kei, the exact reaction that it pulls from your observer. All you know is that you get to see it in full view. You watch the astonishment settle in first and then the disbelief, all followed by betraying arousal. The tent in his pants twitches, a small dark circle forming at the very top and you can’t take your eyes off of it. 

Kei’s thrusts are getting rougher, the sound of his hips against your ass matching the volume of your moans and drowning out the tiny whimpers that are coming from Tadashi. Kei’s name comes out of your mouth, breathy and sandwiched between moans that he’s coercing out of you, but that won’t do. 

The sound of his palm flat against your ass fills your ears before the sting sets in or the warmth starts to spread. “It’s okay. Say my name nice and loud while you’re getting fucked from behind,” Kei coaxes, the back of his hand making contact with your already red cheek, “It’s not like he hasn’t heard you say it before.”

Tadashi groans, embarrassed and trying to hold back how turned on he is by the whole situation. You close your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to look Tadashi in the face right now, can’t muster the courage as you listen to Kei. His name leaves your mouth much clearer now, actually audible this time. “Because who’s the only one that can make you feel good?” he asks, fucking into your g-spot with such purpose. 

“You, Kei, fuck, you’re the only one that can make me feel good, Kei,” you moan, “You’re the one that’s making me feel so good. ‘m close already, Kei, fuck, all because of you.”

“Already close?” Kei asks, snickering as he does. “You’re about to come for the third time, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod because all he has to do is say the word and you’ll come around him again. You want it so badly, for him to let you come again. You’re waiting for it, breathing softer so that you don’t miss the words, but they don’t come, not in the way you want them to, at least. “Why don’t you ask Tadashi if you can come? He’ll tell you when to come.”

Your first thought is to ask why, but you know that’s not your place. You open your mouth to obey, to ask Tadashi if you can come, but Tadashi is the one questioning, “Wh- What?”

Kei answers so matter-of-factly that you’re sure his intention is to make him feel stupid for even thinking it. “Well, you’ll never make her come so you might as well have the privilege of telling her to come and then watching her actually come.”

Tadashi doesn’t look any less confused than he was when Kei first said it, but he listens nonetheless. He doesn’t wait long, the falter probably coming from him trying to find the right words rather than to control your orgasm. “I- Yo- You can c-,” Tadashi stutters through. It feels awkward coming out of his mouth, any sort of power. You can tell how much he hates having this sort of control, how uncomfortable he feels telling you what to do. 

But you’re still close. Kei’s still hammering in and out of you relentlessly. You’re about to let go, reveling in the feeling of Kei slamming into you while waiting for Tadashi to finish his sentence just as you would let Kei finish his when Kei pulls out of you in one quick motion. 

“No,” is the first word to leave your mouth followed by the same word over and over again, “no, no, no, no.” You were so close, completely on the edge, only needing permission to actually come and it was ripped away from you so easily. You feel so empty, clenching around nothing now as your high leaves you so quickly. 

Kei laughs from behind you and you’re not sure who exactly he’s laughing at, you begging so desperately for him to let you come, to slide back into you so that you can just feel him inside of you, or Tadashi who is sitting there, so fucking hard, like his life has been changed in that single instant. Control was dangled in front of his face and it was gone instantaneously, or maybe, it was never there in the first place. 

“You’re nothing,” Kei laughs, “You have no power over her. Only I do.”

Actual tears are forming in your eyes. You arch your back, trying to get his attention. You just want his attention. “Kei, please, please, no, please make me come, Kei, please,” you beg. He lets out another breathy laugh, clicking his tongue at how pathetic both of you are. 

It all happens in the same moment. He grips onto your hips, digging his fingers in so harshly that you can feel the crescent moon indents that he’s making. He pulls you backward, violently, but controlled. And he commands, so spitefully that doing anything else would have felt like you were personally wronging him.  

“Come for me.”

He doesn’t fuck you through your orgasm, but you don’t need him to. Just the feeling of him filling you to the brim with his fat cock is exactly what you need. Waves of pleasure ripple through you and you can feel it in every inch of your body, but somehow, that’s not the most important thing that just happened.

You’re about to close your eyes, to just relish in how good Kei can make you feel from doing so little, how grateful you are for him, but then you see it. You see Tadashi’s face scrunch into ecstasy, the dark stain on his pants growing as the tent throbs and twitches, untouched. The strangled noises that are coming from his throat demand to be listened to and you can’t take your eyes off of him as he comes, unabashed only as he rides his high. His hips are thrusting upwards into absolutely nothing and you’re positive that you have never seen him look this wrecked while he’s come ever. 

The second that he stops grunting, the moment that his cock stops twitching against the fabric of his pants, he places a hand over his mouth. He breathes heavily against his palm and the distress sets in. His cock is still hard even after he came, untouched and unintentionally in his pants to a command that was meant for you. Kei notices right away, pushes past the surprise that even he’s experiencing to taunt Tadashi in this perfect state he’s in right now. 

“You just fucking came and you’re still hard seeing me buried deep inside your ex?” Kei asks. Previously,  Kei let Tadashi’s captivated eyes answer the questions. He didn’t need words, not when he knew exactly what Tadashi was thinking and what he was trying to say without even really saying it, but this time, he wanted to hear him. “Answer me.” The strictness in his voice makes you tighten around him on instinct. 

“Yes,” Tadashi answers, his voice fragile as he continues because he knows it’s not enough to satisfy Kei, “Yes, Kei, I’m still hard.”

“So you are capable of lasting more than one round? (y/n) said that you couldn’t,” Kei smirks, knowing fully well that he has an entire arsenal of things, just like this one, that you told him in confidence, that you thought would never get back to Tadashi. “Well, you might as well come on purpose this time.”

Tadashi’s voice is as shaky as he is as it leaves him, “C- can I?” 

“Can you what?” Kei questions, tilting his head to the side. He knows exactly what Tadashi wants, but he wants him to work for it. 

A flush falls over Tadashi’s soft features, intensifying until you can see it in the tips of his ears. “Can I touch myself while you fuck her?” It’s the clearest thing he’s said all night. It’s quiet, but each word is crisp so that Kei can’t miss a single one. 

“Are you going to listen as well as (y/n) does?” he asks. 

“Yes, Kei,” Tadashi answers, quickly and assured. 

“You better make yourself last for once. I saw how quickly you came without even touching yourself. Make sure you don’t come as quickly as you usually do, understand?” Kei asks, pulling out of you, slowly so that you can feel his entire length as it leaves you.

“Yes, Kei,” Tadashi repeats himself, his voice wavering as the realization hits him, how much Kei knows about his sex life. He fumbles with the waistband of his pants, pulling them down as quickly as he can manage. 

Tadashi isn’t small. You know that. You’ve told Kei that. And yet, compared to how much bigger Kei is than him, how much girthier and how much longer his cock is, you can’t help but notice a difference, to feel like Tadashi should be insecure with his size. Kei scoffs as he watches Tadashi wrap his fist around his cock. “I guess (y/n) wasn’t lying when she said I’m able to hit all the spots you never could. Might be difficult for you to.”

Precome drips from Tadashi’s head, his cock twitches at the mention of his inadequacies, and he’s nodding right along to Kei’s humiliation. His strokes are unsure at first, hesitant and slow as he adjusts to the thought of touching himself to you getting fucked by his former best friend. 

There isn’t a single part of your sex life with Tadashi that Kei doesn’t know about, Tadashi realizes now. Every tiny detail and major part of your intimacy has been laid out in front of Kei to nitpick and assess. He knows everything. He didn’t even get to consent to it, to the humiliation that he’s feeling so heavily now, and somehow that just makes it hotter for him. 

He’s in such a submissive headspace now, feels himself slipping with no regard into a place of listening and only doing what he’s told and he doesn’t want to go back. 

“C’mon, baby, you gotta show Tadashi how good you ride me,” Kei says, helping you to your feet before lying on the bed, his hard cock standing straight up for you. “Give him something to jerk his small cock to, yeah?”

You swing your leg over top of him, pressing your knees into the soft mattress as he lines himself up with you. His head is sliding between your lips, slipping so messily against your pussy from how wet he’s made you and how many times you’ve come around him. 

You arch your back, pushing backward until you feel his head enter you and then you don’t stop. You keep pushing backward until you engulf every inch of him with your warm walls. Your chest is resting on his as you slide up and down, your tits rubbing against him as you fuck yourself with his cock. You run your fingers through his hair, pushing stray strands out of his face as you look down at him. For all the talk that he does about how ruined he makes you look, he hasn’t really taken into account how he looks when you have an ounce of control.

“You never rode him like this, have you?” he asks, swallowing thickly as you circle your hips and shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip as you fuck yourself as meticulously as he normally fucks you. 

“No, baby,” you shake your head, a look of faux concern gracing your features as you coo down at him. This is what happens when he gives you an inkling of control. The smirk that’s normally on his lips finds its place on yours and the dazed look on your face finds its place on his and typically he soaked in it, in letting go and giving you the reins if only for a few minutes, but he had a reputation to hold up, one of demands and steadfast power. 

He sits up, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist and the other arm extended behind him, giving him some sort of leverage as he pushes you up as well. You’re fully seated on his cock now, can feel it so deep inside of you that you never want to move. His fingers mold around your ribs, pressing into the bones as he picks his hips up, lifting you with them. 

He leans his forehead against your shoulder biting small nips into your flesh as he raises you up enough to fuck his cock into you. Any amount of control that you had moments ago is gone now as grips onto you tightly, grunting as he moves both of your bodies in time with one another. 

He never pulls far enough out to make you miss the feeling, fucks you by moving only inches, but you’re crumbling so quickly paired with everything else. You can’t move, don’t want to even if you could. He has such a death grip on whatever he can reach of you and you can feel his hot skin in every single place that it’s making contact with your own. You have no idea how he’s managing to fuck you so brutally when he’s so close to you the entire time. The backs of your thighs feel like they’re on fire from how hard he’s thrusting up into you. Your legs are shaking and you don’t even notice how hard you’re breathing until you watch him kiss your chest. 

“Kei, I’m gonna come,” you mutter, swallowing whatever’s in your mouth because your throat feels so dry, “I’m gonna come, Kei, fuck.”

“No,” he scowls, his cock ramming into you harder now, “Don’t. Not yet. Not until I tell you you can.”

“But, Kei, please,” you choke out, “Please.”

“What did I just say?” he asks, impatient and testing and you know that you shouldn’t push it any further, but your core is tightening and your pussy is throbbing around him and you can hear the sounds of Tadashi whimpering as he jerks himself off barely 2 feet away from you and it’s so much.

“Kei, I need- please-”

With the position that he’s in, he can’t reach you with his hands, they’re far too busy. You know that if you were in any other position, his hand would be on your throat or in your hair or against your cheek at the first sound of disobedience, but he can’t. He can’t put his hands on you and also keep destroying you so perfectly, so he sinks his teeth into your neck, rolls the skin between them before migrating down to your collarbone and doing the same thing there. You can feel the imprints of his teeth, the marks that he’s leaving behind with the lingering pain and it’s making it that much harder to hold it. 

“I won’t repeat myself again,” he grunts into your skin. 

“Yes, Kei,” you oblige, closing your eyes as he continues his pace. You try to let your mind wander, to find other things to focus on while you’re getting fucked so good , anything to distract you from how close to the edge you actually are. 

You hold it for much longer than you think you will. You just want to make him proud. You can feel the sweat on his forehead as it slips against your shoulder and you can see the shine of his stomach and feel his grip getting weaker and you’re confident that he can’t possibly make you wait for your reward any longer. Your cunt is clamped around him so tight that you’re not even sure how he’s still able to fuck you so consistently. 

His thrusts slow four times. You count every single one, every slow fuck into you. If you had been with Kei for less time, you’d think he was giving you a break, but you haven’t. You’ve been with Kei for a handful of time now, know him and how he fucks you so well that you’re barely surprised when he starts fucking you even harder. You’re barely phased when he lifts you with his hips so harshly, keeps you in that position with one solid grip, and then rams into you with a force you didn’t think he could muster in this position.  

“‘m sorry, Kei, I-,” you breathe, tears forming as you rest your cheek against his head. “‘m so sorry. I can’t hold it. I can’t. I can’t.”

“Hold it,” he orders, so sternly that disobeying him feels that much more satisfying. Your eyes roll back in your head, your body begins to fall backward, but Kei holds you in place. With the way you’re positioned, how your weight is pushing back on his arm, he can’t pick you up anymore, can’t fuck into you as deeply as he wants to. Instead, he keeps you seated on his cock as he circles his hips, rocks them against you so that you can feel him move inside of you, against your g-spot and it’s absolutely ruining you. 

He lets you fall backward now, flat against the bed between his legs. You’re barely cognitive after how hard you just came, but he pulls you out of it. “I told you not to come,” he says, grabbing your face in his hand and guiding your gaze so forcefully that your neck hurts. His harsh grip fades, but his touch still lingers, soft now, as he scratches gentle lines into your neck. “But you couldn’t help it, could you?” he asks. 

You shake your head, a confirming noise leaving you in response. 

“I just make you feel too fucking good?” he asks, but not really. He’s not really saying it for you. He’s saying it for Tadashi, for him to hear not just once from him, but twice, repeated back how much power Kei has. 

“You just make me feel too fucking good, Kei, I’m sorry,” you apologize, eyes boring up at him as you try to catch your breath.

“See? You can’t make her come even when you try so hard, but she can’t stop herself from coming for me,” Kei says, looking away from you and towards Tadashi on the edge of the bed. He’s nodding along, hanging onto every single word that comes out of Kei’s mouth, wanting to listen to just how much better he is than him. 

“Because you’re pathetic, sitting there, jerking yourself off while I fuck your ex, huh?” Kei taunts, cocking his head. His condescending tone makes Tadashi throb in his own hand as he tugs on his cock desperately, moaning affirmation. 

“Am… Am I doing good, Kei?” he asks, all caution thrown to the wind now as he flat-out requests praise. He wants to hear the same praises that you were being told. He wants Kei to call him a good boy again.

“Are you doing good?” Kei repeats the question, standing up and walking over to him, lowering himself to look directly at his cock. “I don’t know. Show me.”

Kei doesn’t touch Tadashi, isn’t even close enough for Tadashi to feel his breath, or the ghost of potential contact, but Tadashi looks like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, Kei.” His strokes are more methodical now, less haphazard as he pays attention to his grip and his pressure and the way that his thumb swipes over his head. 

Kei’s eyes don’t leave Tadashi’s cock as he directs you, “Come here. Legs off the side of the bed right next to Dashi.”

It takes everything in you, every ounce of strength you still have to move where he wants you to. You’re so close to Tadashi now that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, can hear the sounds his hand is making sliding up and down his cock so well now. 

“You’re doing so good, Dashi,” Kei finally says, his fingertips hovering over Tadashi’s thighs, but not touching. “Such a good boy for me.”

Tadashi’s strong strokes falter, stutters so noticeably that the words that come next are no surprise. “Can- can I come, Tsukki?” he asks, the nickname slipping from his lips unapologetically as you both watch him stroke himself faster.

Kei could have edged him for hours, would have loved every second of it, but you’re not sure if Tadashi could’ve handled him like you could, not yet at least. “Since you asked so nicely,” Kei smirks, “Come for me like a good boy.”

Tadashi nods enthusiastically, thanking him repeatedly as he thrusts up into his hand, his strokes becoming sloppy as his breathing gets heavier. Kei watches him, eyes fixed as Tadashi spills over his hand, coming in thick ropes that shoot up onto his shirt, adding to the mess he’s made on his clothes today. “Thank you, Kei, thank you,” he says coherently as soon as he’s caught his breath. 

Kei stands up, barely moving to get in between your legs. You reach your hand up, letting it fall over his stomach, trying to touch him in whatever way you can. “Are you going to use me to make you come, now?” you ask, innocently enough. 

He doesn’t reply, just slips inside of you so quickly that you can feel him stabbing inside of you. There’s no waiting for you to get adjusted or giving you a moment to take in the fullness, he’s just fucking into you relentlessly now. “Are you going to make me come?” he asks, matching your tone with a bit more arrogance.

“Yes, Kei,” you reply, the words being fucked out of you right alongside your breath with every stab inside of you. You squeeze around him, your tight hole massaging his length, coating him with the slickness from how drenched he’s made you. 

“Play with yourself,” he groans, “Wanna see you play with yourself.”

You snake your hand down to your clit, rubbing exaggerated circles into your sensitive nub, whining Kei’s name as you bring your fingers to your lips and suck your taste off of them. 

“I’m going to come so fucking deep inside her and you’re going to eat it all out. Every last drop,” Kei orders Tadashi. Your pussy clenches at the thought, tightening around Kei’s length as his hips stutter at the sudden tightness. 

“Please, please, wanna feel you come so deep, Kei, please,” you beg, grabbing onto his wrist in desperation. You can see his resolve slipping, can feel his cock begin to throb against your walls. You place one hand on his cheek, coiling your fingers against his skin. But it’s not the touch that does it or the way your throat is so raw that your words come out weak, it’s Tadashi that pushes him over the edge. 

“Wanna eat your come, please,” Tadashi says so softly, so sweetly that even Kei couldn’t deny it. 

Obscenities leave his mouth as his chin falls to his chest, pushing himself so deep inside of you that you can follow the pulses of his cock from the base to the tip. Each throb is another stream, another rope of come that fills you fuller and fuller. He doesn’t move, doesn’t fuck it deeper into you and let it coat his length. He stills, his hips pressed into you until he drains himself completely inside of you, not letting anything drip out. 

You don’t want him to leave, don’t want to feel empty, but you know what’s coming next and the thought is making your toes curl. “Dashi, on your knees,” Kei instructs and you hear the thud instantaneously. “Don’t you dare waste a single drop.”

“No, I promise,” Tadashi swears eagerly, more ready than he’s ever been to eat you out.

When Kei pulls out of you, there is only a momentary second that you can count, a beat of cool air against your sloppy pussy before Tadashi’s lips are placed around it, his tongue diving so deep into you that you’re almost convinced that Kei’s never even gotten that deep. 

Your pussy is so sensitive from Kei’s relentless pounding and your own touches to your clit that you feel a familiar heat rise into your stomach. Your hands are shaking as they part Tadashi’s soft hair, grabbing onto it gently so you don’t disturb him. Though, you’re certain that you couldn’t tear him away from between your legs if you tried.

His tongue is delving into your hole, using the tip as a scoop to coax out any bit of cum that is too deep for him to shallowly lap up. He places his lips around your hole and sucks, pulling any drops that he can’t get out with his tongue, suctioning as hard as he can. And when you’re positive that you’re no longer filled with cum, he doesn’t stop. He continues to run his tongue between your lips, pressing the flat of it so mercilessly into you, flicking the tip against your clit so perfectly that it almost feels intentional.

It’s not, God, it’s not. The amount of times that you tried endlessly to help him understand, to show him what you needed never proved to be successful, but in this moment in time, it’s perfect. Everything about this second, this experience is perfect and it doesn’t matter how convenient of an accident it is. 

“Kei, Kei, I’m-” You’re staring up at Kei, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, swallowing harshly, “He’s- he’s gonna make me come.”

You’re not even sure that Tadashi heard you, so focused on getting any last morsel of the cum out of you, any remnant that Kei left behind, so sensitive, so much. 

“Fuck, that’s so good, Dashi,” you reposition your hands in his hair, not guiding, just to ground yourself. “That’s so good, don’t stop.”

Kei calls down, tells Tadashi to play with your tits as he goes, tells him that it’ll drive you crazy and he does. It does. It’s not as meticulous as when Kei does it, because of course, it’s not. His fingers aren’t as long as Kei’s and they don’t move as rhythmically as Kei’s, but his tongue is diving into you with an intent he’s never had before and you’re so sensitive and it’s so much and-

You’re coming, hard, right against Tadashi’s tongue, rolling your hips, not because he’s doing anything wrong or because you need something more, but because you can’t help yourself. Your body is reacting on its own, grinding onto Tadashi’s face, fingers so tight in his locks that he’s whimpering against you, but he doesn’t stop. 

Tadashi couldn’t do this on his own. You know that more than anyone. You’re not even sure that he was trying to make you come. You’re sensitive from Kei, on edge from him filling you so full without letting you come, and Tadashi pushed you exactly where you needed to be with the head start he was given.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy,” you moan when you can finally see straight. He hasn’t stopped, no one’s told him to, and Kei doesn’t look like he intends to, but you’re so sensitive that it almost hurts and you want to see his face, so you rest your hand on his shoulder. “Dashi, you can stop, you did so good.”

“Can- Can I come again?” he asks, looking up at Kei, his face still hovering over your pussy. 

“Are you hard again, Dashi?” Kei asks, overwhelming shock showing on his face, whether it’s intentional or not. 

Tadashi shakes his head, “No, but I- I have to come. I want to come so badly.”

“Then come, Dashi, you’ve earned it. You finally made her come for once. You’re not completely useless after all,” Kei says, watching the bliss take over Tadashi’s face as he speaks, “Come for us again. Show us that you can listen and be a good boy for us and maybe we’ll fuck you again.”

It looks almost painful, the way his eyes squeeze so tightly and his mouth opens so wide as the most strangled noise comes out of it. He rocks against his own hand, his heavy breaths against your sensitive pussy feeling so warm. He just wants you to be proud of him, for both of you to be. 

“So good, Dashi, that’s a good boy,” you praise.

When his eyes flutter open again, when he regains whatever amount of coherence that he can, he thanks you. Neither of you has even touched him tonight and, still, he looks so grateful. You can only imagine how wrecked he’ll look when you actually get your hands on him. The thought stops you in your tracks. You look over at Kei and how he’s looking down at Tadashi in awe and you wonder if he meant it, what he said about fucking him again. 

“Here, let’s get you into bed,” you say, sitting up. It feels weird being on this side of it and not completely in Tadashi’s position, being tucked into bed after being wrecked so hard. He doesn’t refuse. He lets you and Kei help him to his feet and get him into bed. You know how taxing it is to be in that position for the first time, for sex to finally be good for you, even if he barely participated in the actual act itself. 

“I’m still mad at you, y’know,” Tadashi mumbles as you pull the blanket up over his chin. “I have the right to be mad at you, both of you.”

“Dashi,” you say as you exhale, but he cuts you off. 

“I’m not finished,” he says, “I’m still mad at you because it was a really shitty thing to do to me.” He pauses, not trailing off, but letting you both really hear the words, “But I think I understand now in some weird way, not just how our sex was not good at all, but how important it is.”

“I’m sorry, Tadashi, honestly, I am. I should have told you. I should have talked to you about everything and I didn’t and I’m sorry,” you say, letting the apology that’s been in your brain for weeks finally come out. 

“I know,” he says, yawning now as everything catches up to him. “I know and it’s not okay, but it’s getting there.” 

You go to reply, open your mouth to respond, but Kei stops you, shaking his head as he gestures to the way that Tadashi’s breathing is even now and his eyelids are no longer fluttering. Then, he gestures to the door, picking up your clothes from the floor and handing them back to you before putting on his own. 

There are boxes scattered on the floors, an ample amount of things that are not packed up that should be. Honestly, this room is far more of a mess now than it was when you got here, but at least he’ll feel okay pushing your things to the side now. 

You shut the front door, locking it behind you with your key. Kei waits for you patiently, his hand extended out for when you’re ready to grab it. You intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Not necessarily how I thought moving your things would go, but I’m not mad about it,” Kei says, breaking the silence. 

“Of course you weren’t, you had two people to control. What a dream come true for you and your superiority complex,” you joke, though it’s not really a joke. He knows that. He doesn’t mind. 

You walk hand-in-hand, forgoing the car that’s parked in Tadashi’s driveway and making the quick commute back to Kei’s on foot. The fresh air is nice and you’re almost positive that if you were to sit down, even just in the front seat of a car, you wouldn’t be able to get up. 

“I can’t believe it,” you say, “how has fucking you both ruined and begun to repair my relationship with Tadashi?”

“I’m just that good,” Kei scoffs, shrugging as if it were obvious. You push your shoulder into him, letting him lose his balance and regain it all by himself. You squint your eyes at him. He laughs before correcting himself, “I think he just didn’t know that sex could be that good, just like you didn’t.”

You’re about to take his answer as it is, let it slide and continue on with your conversation. It makes sense to you, especially having grown in the same way Tadashi had, albeit more so, but this was his first time.  His response is enough to make you feel content, but he continues, for himself or for you or for Tadashi, you’re not sure. “Tadashi’s never been good at being honest with himself, at knowing what he wants, let alone voicing those wants to other people when he finally figures them out, and that’s fine bu...” Kei pauses, letting you hang onto every word of his observant explanation, “that just means without someone there to help… without us there to help,” he corrects himself, “sex is going to be really shitty.”

You hum. You thought that you were happy with the answer before, but this one sits with you so much better, and yet, even with his mention of you both helping him, your question still comes out not nearly as confident as you need it to be. “Were you serious about fucking him again or did you just say that to make him come?” you ask into the brisk air. 

“I was serious,” he answers quickly, “Have I ever said anything to you just to make you come?”

You shake your head in response, swinging your arms together as you come to conclusions, make connections in the silence between the two of you. “So, do you think we could do it again?” you ask, “But a little different next time.”

“Different how?” Kei questions, and you tell him. Maybe you’re a bit too excited, but as soon as you start talking, the ideas keep coming. They don’t stop, not as you step inside of your house or as you step into your bedroom or as you flop onto the bed or as you get under the covers. 

“Is that really what you want?” Kei asks when you’ve finally finished talking. 

You nod, not saying a word because you’ve talked a lot as it is and your throat is still sore. 

“Then, yes, I think he’d love that,” Kei agrees, pulling you deeper into him and mumbling a final thought into your hair, “And I would too.”

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send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

New Battle of the Garbage Dump trailer!!

I feel this in my soul

have i read this chapter before. yes. did i physically throw my phone off the bed when i read this. i think you know the answer.

can you do prompt #35 with tadashi and smut?

How to Summon a Succubus

Masterlist

FINALLY finished this. Took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do for this one. Oh, and this was supposed to be finished for HALLOWEEN. My apologies. Ps I’m totally down to make a part two if anyone wants it (give suggestions!)

Words: 3220+

Warnings: smut, first time, multiple rounds, mild aphrodisiac use (succubus saliva), fictional races, mention of sex work

Ft. Yamaguchi Tadashi x succubus!FEM!reader, Tanaka, Tsukki, Noya

Summary: Tadashi’s friends try to summon a succubus to get him laid for the first time. Unexpectedly, it works.

In a world of the supernatural, there were many different races and species and sub categories. Probably hundreds. But still, there were very few of you. You'd think the humans were weaker compared to the rest of the world, but them themselves held a power hard to beat.

In the 8,000,000,000 people on Earth, only about 4% of the people people living on it were of the supernatural. Still, most of them had rights and lived normal lives despite it.

You, on the other hand, had a harder time. 'Unnatural' skin covered your body, and two horns laid atop your head. Your heart-tipped tail swayed behind you as you walked, and left nothing to the imagination as to what you were. A succubus.

Parents hid their children from you, and avoided all eye contact with your unnaturally bright eyes. Refused jobs and services, kicked out of shops for 'suspicious activity', and immediately under suspicion if any sexual predator was on the lose.

You followed in your parents' footsteps, helping out at your eighth generation family business (if you could call it that). You sat on the receptionists chair, pretending to be busy so the clients in the waiting room in front of you wouldn't bother you. The government checked the place three times a year to make sure it was top-notch and in perfect shape, eyeing the smallest details to ensure nothing was amiss. Of course, they were only doing this because brothels like yours were in such high demand for humans.

"Welcome to The Bat's Wing, how can I help you?" You answered when you picked up the phone. "Summoning? Gosh, I dunno. Hasn't happened in hundreds of years so no one knows if it's a myth or not."

Obviously, you knew about summoning. It was a secret so buried that it was almost impossible to find out about.

"Oh? For your virgin friend?" You leaned into your desk, eyeing the entrance way through the glass separating the two rooms. "Well, he could always come and book an appointment. Too shy? Aw, what a shame. I love the shy ones."

"Alright then, Tanaka, you'd better have a good story to convince me," you listened intently. "Ah, well it seems as though you're on the right track. Do some more digging around the Meru bloodline and see where that takes you. Mhm, yep. Ok bye."

Ok so, you weren't exactly the best secret keeper ever. But dropping hints wasn't exactly exposing the secret, right? It's not like they'd be able to figure it out. 'Blood of a virgin'? Pfft, more like semen of a virgin.

"Why are you guys making me do this again?" Yamaguchi blushed as he sat in front of a pentacle drawn in chalk.

"Because you're the only virgin in the group!" Noya flailed his arms.

"Yeah, even The King has lost his," Tsukishima mumbled from the corner. "Just thought I'd help you out. Tanaka and Noya seemed like the only people who knows about this summoning bullshit."

Yamaguchi gulped and turned back. "What next, then?"

"'A tuft of the summoner's locks'," Tanaka recited from the sketchy old photo of a parchment he found after days of digging, "on the tip of the pentacle."

Yamaguchi snipped a patch of his hair right behind his ear, and laid it down on the silver plate. He followed with a vase of feathers on the left point, then a goblet of wine on the opposite side. Next was a bouquet of some very specific flowers on the bottom left, wrapped in a natural cotton cloth. In the right bottom hand point, he lit four candles; white, black, pink, and red.

"Anything else?" Yamaguchi sat back on his haunches.

"Um," Tanaka side-eyed Noya and Tsukishima. "Ok don't freak out, but a 'nip glass of a virgin's blood'."

"What the hell's a nip glass?" Tsukishima what everyone was thinking.

"Google it," Noya shrugged.

"Oh. It's a shot glass," Tanaka answered.

"A shot glass of my blood?!" Yamaguchi yelled. "No way! I'd have to really cut myself to get that much!"

"Well fuck," Noya groaned. "Where's the least damaging place we can—"

"I said no," Yamaguchi growled, glaring at his friend. "Any alternatives?"

After lots of thinking, and dumb ideas, Tsukishima finally spoke up and said:

"Well what about semen?"

Everyone stopped to stare at him, mouth's agape. Noya and Tanaka whipped their heads to Yamaguchi and he sighed.

"Fine. Better than blood," Yamaguchi begrudgingly agreed. Maybe then it won't work.

He padded up the basement and grabbed a shot glass before locking himself in the bathroom. He looked out to the bright full moon, and wondered how he got himself into this mess.

"Here," Yamaguchi said, firmly placing a shot glass of his cum in the centre of the pentacle. "Now what."

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” Tsukishima grimaced.

"Here," Tanaka passed Yamaguchi his phone. "Read the poem or whatever it's called."

"'A woman of desire, o' cometh to my side,

To aid me in my deepest dreams,

And to feed thou of what thou doth need’," Yamaguchi recited, squinting at the slightly blurry penmanship.

"'No needeth a cry,

No needeth a whip,

Cometh to drain me

Of my pastorship.'," he continued.

"'O' skin of flare,

And eyes o' rare,

I give you my word,

I'll provide you the cure,

O' thous' desire.'."

Yamaguchi continued down the paragraphs, blushing at certain parts, and finally reached the end.

"'O' woman so fair,

I'll lend thou mine care,

O' my phallus so heavy,

To send thou a sign,

So thou can come find me.'."

"Whatta bunch of bullshit," Tsukishima muttered.

"Ok folks, let's go and leave Yams to slumber,~" Tanaka sang as he dragged the two other boys along.

Yamaguchi gulped.

It began with the tingle of your toes. You thought nothing of it other than you were probably getting hungry again. A heat trailed up your body and you shivered in arousal. That was the second sign. It was almost instinctual how you rummaged through your drawers to find the perfect set of lingerie, not even knowing what you were looking for. The black set felt nice on your curves, and you threw over a sundress.

Your eyes grew bright, and you could see a shimmering light about a mile from your window. You blinked in surprise that whoever had attempted to summon a succubus had actually succeeded. You grinned. A nice shot of cum was waiting for you.

Slipping out of your window with a pair of sunglasses to hide your bright eyes, you made your way down the dark streets, following the faint glowing light that carved your path.

You stopped abruptly, and a sharp 'ZZIRP' noise rattled your ears. You opened your eyes to a dark room, save for the candles that were still (unsafely) lit. The boy you were here for was in his deepest REM sleep, and you felt giddy all over. You wondered what your fellow succubi would think when you went back and told them you had been summoned. You leisurely stepped out of the pentacle, careful to avoid the goblet of red wine. You pinched the flames with your fingers to put them out, and picked up the goblet.

You hummed as you sipped on the liquid, a very specific blend that you could recognize anywhere. After drinking the whole thing, you turned to the flowers. They were beautiful, and smelled of lust and nectar. The feathers were a nice touch, and you pinched the lock of hair on the silver plate. You realized that your sunglasses were long gone, as well as your dress, as you admired the fluffy green-grey hair. It smelled faintly of pine, and something warm you couldn't quite place. Finally, you plucked the tiny glass in the centre of the pentacle and grinned. The smell was intoxicating, and it made your heat throb excitedly. You used your finger to scoop out the cum, groaning each time you sucked the sweet nectar down your throat. Your tongue elongated as you licked the glass clean, not wanting to waste a drop of the sticky substance.

In a haze, you dropped the glass and wandered up the stairs of the basement. The door to inside was locked. No matter, it was probably just habit. You flicked your finger and the door opened with a quiet creak.

You admired the photographs on the wall as you wandered upstairs, smiling giddily when you saw the summoner. He looked like a sweet young man in his most recent pictures, and you gathered that he was still staying at his parents' house for whatever reason. The door of his room glowed, and you carefully slid it open to reveal a young man cuddling his pillow, sound asleep.

You slid the door shut behind you, and walked over to the foot of his bed. Eagerly, you trailed a hand up his bent leg and urged it to lay straight. Once it did, you hovered over his legs and used a finger to gently rub the front of his briefs. You moaned quietly as he hardened, and you hastily removed his underwear. You touched him some more, and his cock quickly throbbed upright. Precum was already drooling out of his slit.

"Hmph?" A very tired and confused Tadashi mumbled as he used his forearms to sit up, eyes blowing wide once he saw your hovering figure. He was speechless.

You grinned wickedly at him, waving playfully before moving your hand back down to grip the base of his cock.

"H-hi?" Yamaguchi squeaked once he came-to.

"Hello," you giggled. "It seems as though I've been summoned."

Yamaguchi could only stare as you greedily licked a stripe up his shaft, a soft moan emitting from his lips.

"What would you like me to call you, Summoner?" You hummed, nonchalantly pumping his dick.

"Y-uh you can uh, c-call me Tadashi," he stuttered out, squirming in place when you played with the head of his cock."I- ah~ -didn't think it w-would actually work."

"Well I'm happy it did," you grinned. "Working with a virgin isn't something I've done before. Plus, you're cute."

You beamed as he flushed, half turning his face to hide it. Yeah, you were definitely going to enjoy yourself. Tadashi finally took a good look at your appearance, throat going dry when he realized that you were barely covering your body, clad in only a black lingerie set.

"Like what you see, do you?" You smirked, walking your fingers up his shaft. You tapped lightly on the head of his cock, his pre sticking to the tip of your finger.

He stared in awe as you collected more of his pre, bringing it to your tongue. You moaned softly at his taste.

"I've already had a little taste earlier," you purred, nuzzling your cheek on his cock. "And I'm already addicted."

Tadashi's face glowed pink at the indication that you had drank the little shot glass of his semen, mouth gaping as you kissed sloppily up his shaft.

"W-what's your n-name?" Tadashi stuttered out, fists gripping his blanket under him.

"Oh how rude of me. My name is y/n," you licked your lips, giving him a wink. "But you can call me anytime."

Yamaguchi didn't have a chance to respond before you wrapped your warm lips around the head of his cock, quickly working your way down so you swallowed around his whole length.

"Ooah," Tadashi moaned, his head lolling back. He had never felt such a sensation, his body already shaking and close to orgasm.

You slurped greedily on his cock, the promise of his delicious sticky cum all too much to make you slow down. You slithered your tongue wherever you could, tracing the veins along his length.

All Tadashi could do was throw his head from side-to-side and firmly grip his bedsheets. Groaning unintelligibly, he flopped totally on his back and struggled to stay still, harshly trailing his hands up and down his body to grope at his skin.

"Ffffuuuuck," he keened loudly as you hummed and swallowed around his cock one more time before he came, warm ropes of cum going down your throat.

You sat back and watched as the boy beneath you slowly came-to, heaving for breath and eyes tightly closed.

"Sh-shit," he sighed quietly, heavy lidded eyes looking up at you.

"How was that?" You grinned, resisting the urge to continue to play with his sensitive dick.

"I-I can't even—" Tadashi struggled "—begin to explain how good that felt."

"You're about to feel so much better that that," you promised. "Trust me, I'm just getting started."

"I-I dunno if I can..." he began.

"Don't worry, my saliva will keep your stamina up," you pulled yourself onto his lap.

"Can I um... can I kiss you?" Tadashi asked nervously.

"Mmhm," you leaned closer. "You're such a good boy, Tadashi, asking so nicely."

Tadashi whined at the praise before you muffled his noises with a kiss. You could tell he was inexperienced from the way he nervously moved his lips with yours, but you didn't mind because it was kinda cute.

"Open," you said as you pulled back.

Tadashi did as he was told, and your tongue lulled out of your mouth to let a long drop of saliva to enter his mouth. The sweet taste of your spit made him moan in surprise, but you cut him off when you smashed your lips to his yet again.

"Touch me, Tadashi," you hummed lewdly, your eyes glowing.

Again, he did as he was told and let his hands trail over your figure, stopping at your waist to pull you closer.

"Fuck, I love how obedient you are," you groaned. "Such a good boy for me."

Tadashi's cock twitched, and you used your tail to reach down and pump his length. You swallowed his moans, elongating your tongue to explore his mouth. The feeling of your tongue gliding against his was enough for him to jerk his whole body, coming with a loud whine. The end of your tail opened as a second mouth, and it slurped up all of the cum it could.

You leaned back to admire Tadashi; his eyes were heavy with lust, and his cheeks were painted a pretty pink. His lips were swollen and shiny from your kisses, puffy and red. He had a calmer aura after you had kissed him, your saliva easing him into the lull of your dance.

"Ta~da~shi~" you hummed, trailing a finger down his sternum. "I bet you want to see what's underneath my outfit, hm?"

"Y-yes please," Yamaguchi nodded.

His heartbeat sped faster when your clothes were stripped from your body with a flick of your tail. He wanted to touch your breasts, the perky nipples of your tits causing his mouth to water.

"Do whatever you'd like," you purred, gloating in his gaze.

"Y-you're sure?" Tadashi gulped. "W-what if I—"

"Baby, look at me. I can overpower you in an instant," you grinned. "Trust me, I can stand up for myself. I'm a big girl."

Tadashi gulped anxiously as he reached his palms to your breasts and gently squeezed, marvelling at the feeling. You pulled his face flush to your chest, and you encouraged him to suck and kiss your tits.

"Good boy, juuust like that," you ran your fingers through his hair. "Your tongue is so soft."

Tadashi could only whine in response, his hands trailing down to your hips. "C-can I go in-inside?" Said his muffled voice.

"Oh, absolutely," you purred. "G'na fill me up so good, Tadashi."

You reached your hand down and wrapped it around his cock, giggling when it twitched in your palm. You pulled back so you could look at his face, grinning as he watched in amazement as you slowly dragged the head of his cock over your swollen bud.

"Mmm," you hummed, biting your lip. His eyes met with your half lidded ones, and he gulped nervously.

A loud keen echoed through the room as you inserted his glans inside of your pussy. "Feels s'good already," Tadashi moaned.

You watched contently as his face contorted in pleasure as you sank further down his shaft. You reached for his cheeks, and rubbed a tear away. Sometimes you forgot that human pussies couldn't compete with a succubus'.

"Holy fuck, holy shit," Tadashi's back arched and twisted as you let him get used to the foreign feeling. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were half shut in pleasure.

Once you were fully seated, you felt Tadashi's cock twitch once, twice, before spilling his load inside of you. Your body shivered in delight as the man beneath you gripped the sheets beside him.

"M'sorry," Tadashi mumbled. "'S my first time."

"Don't be sorry, baby," you cooed, holding his freckled face gently. "We have all night."

He whimpered when you began to move, eyes closing tightly for a moment. "Fuck," he said in a small voice.

"Mm, you fill me so good Tadashi~" you moaned into his ear, gently nibbling on the soft cartilage. You pulled back to look at his blissed-out face. "Shit, you're cute."

"Hnngh," he whined in response, eyes glossy with tears. "F-feels really good."

"I could fuck you forever," you sighed dreamily, rolling your hips in a circle. "I want to make you feel so good that you can only get off to the thought of me. Oh shit you feel so good."

Tadashi looked up at you with his watery eyes, awe still painting his face as he weakly tried to thrust his hips up to meet yours.

"Relax, baby," you purred, holding a hand to his heaving chest. "I got you."

You could tell that his body was just about done by the way his limbs weakly grasped onto anything they could, and how his eyes were almost closed.

You leaned down to kiss him, giving him more sexual energy with your saliva so he could have one more orgasm.

"Ffff-shit!" Tadashi wailed, back arching as his eyes rolled. "S-so... sho good."

Stomach twisting pleasantly, you finally allowed yourself to relax and ride your incoming orgasm, watching Tadashi with heavy eyes as he writhed and moaned lewdly beneath you.

"Fuck, m' gonna cum, Tadashi," you practically growled, leaning in close to suck and nibble on the skin of his neck. "Cum with me, baby."

Tadashi whimpered loudly at your demand, and he cried out as his cock forced out another load of cum into you. Your body shook and you quickly rubbed your clit, body shaking as you moaned in delight as your pussy sucked up every drop of cum it could. When you came down from your high, you looked down to see Tadashi dead asleep, snoring adorably with a line of drool on his chin. You cooed at his relaxed form, still sweaty and naked.

You tidied up what you could, before deciding to cuddle up beside Tadashi as he slept peacefully. You pulled the comforter over the two of you, and you admired the boy beside you before you yourself fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

TSUKKIYAMA WEEK DAY 3: HEIGHT DIFFERENCE!! because the height difference when they were kids will forever be iconic 😌😌

I hope you enjoy this scene of akiteru marking kei and tadashi's heights on the post of the tsukishima household!!!