HOORAY I just read ur bokuto x reader p4 it was really cute :3 sorry havent updated in awhile i got busy with life… but i never forget to keep u in mind 🫶 love ur work as always, very memorable writer to me -🐈🐈⬛
only fitting to respond to you for this last one. ughhh ilysm 🥹😭💕💕
warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI
details. fem!reader / first time / soft kissy missionary / safe sex / BIG praise kink!bokuto / himbo!bokuto / sweet, dumb!bokuto / inexperienced!reader / possessive!bokuto / f!rec oral / guided handjob / kuroo's sister!reader / 2.3k words / last installment
links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. part one here. part two here. part three here. part four. request box
You tilted your head, eyes narrowed a little at the generous, clear bulge in his tiny shorts.
"Can I see it?"
He fisted the sheets in his excitement that you were thinking the same thing, biting his cheek so he didn't shout. Just by the obvious elation on his face, you could tell he was in the process of holding back a million bad responses.
Instead, he let his hands talk, lips crashing against yours all rough and thirsty as he pulled it out. You didn't want his kisses, though-- you grinned as you avoided what you could, so you could see.
Propped up on your elbows, you looked from his vigilant stare, trailing down his sculpted, smooth body down to his cock between your tummies.
It looked heavy.
You quickly learned that it was hot, too, as he guided your palm around it, and used your hand to pump himself. Your heart was racing- it was so weird, and you liked it so much, and he liked it even more.
Bokuto always stood by the idea that 'it always feels/tastes/sounds better when somebody else does it.' The kind of guy to only drink out of other peoples' cups, ask other people to read things out loud to him, massage a part of his shoulder he could get but won't.
While you didn't know what you were doing in the slightest, and he was controlling your pace, even the harsh grip, it still felt 40x better than all the jerking off he usually did.
His tongue got confident, and a bit curious, diving deeper past your teeth. He was just trying in whatever way he could to be inside of you. The weight of his body became more substantial.
You loved feeling his strength falter, his lust heightening, compelling him to get closer.
When he pulled away, he looked a little crazy- like he forgot to smile, or something. It was the nature of his eyes to not look very friendly, but it gave the impression that he was really holding himself back.
"Are- you okay?"
"Just-," He takes a sharp breath, eyes squeezing shut for a second, like he's recalibrating, "Feels really g-ood."
He wasn't prepared in the slightest for the smile you gave him. It was sweet, and prideful, and too cute with his cock in your hand.
That tortured look was back, briefly before he shoved his face in the nook of your shoulder.
"Fuck-! I need you s-o bad," He whined, pitiful, "Are- h-ahh, you ready yet?"
You could try.
With a question like that, asked so sweet, so sugary- you hummed against his hair, not quite understanding what 'ready' meant.
You hardly noticed how he plucked a condom from his shorts, somewhere in the mess of sheets to the left of you- and slid it on between clumsy kisses. Lots of practice must've made the process second nature.
It was difficult, to say the least, adjusting to him. His eagerness was already so spoken for, and you realized too late that you probably did need more time.
Bokuto could feel it too, though.
He could hear it in the thinly-veiled fear, making your voice waver, break, as you asked him to be gentle with you.
"Even if it takes all night," He kissed your nose while you couldn't move away, "I'll wait for ya."
Rough hands, so used to force and recklessness, practiced paying attention through running smooth lines across your skin.
Those hard kisses turned softer, slower, across your jaw and down your throat. He moved at a near imperceptible pace, just to get you accustomed to all of his size.
"Sooo pretty," He whispered to himself, forehead heavy on yours as he closed his eyes, "Fuck..."
The discomfort was just starting to be overshadowed with better, pleasurable, buzz. Your legs were slowly relaxing, a jelly-like feeling that spread from your thighs, squished comfy next to his hips, down to your toes.
Bokuto was capable of deliberate and soft sex. He wasn't always an animal, and he wasn't ignorant to somebody else's needs.
He was just excitable, and stupid. But all he needed was a whisper, a hint, or a reminder sometimes.
You kissed the tip of his nose, a way of telling him you were okay. Your fingers started to rake through his spiky hair, and the little smile on your face waited for him to he open his eyes.
"Shit--," He stole another few kisses from you, "Oh, you're so- mh- you're soo cute."
Between kisses, his tongue lagged, always proceeded by a sharp sigh. Almost like he was struggling to multitask. It made you curious when it started to get more frequent.
"Sh-it--h-ahh--," His curse broke into a shocked whine-- he stalled, deep.
Your higher, cuter sound at how good it felt did nothing to help to bring him down.
You watched him bite his own wrist, a small concern furrowing his brow.
Craving more, and only knowing one way to cheer him up, you rolled your hips up and locked your ankles around him with a squeeze.
"W-ait, waitwaitwait," He seethed, "Ahh- fuck-- stop moving babygirl- stop moving."
The person he looked down at was no longer a shy little nerd, incapable of handling his flirty second nature. Your mouth was curled into a coquettish grin, your pecks soft and affectionate and too much, scattered around his face.
He had to cum so bad that he felt sick. He had to look through you- draw blood to his palm, just to clear his filthy mind.
"Do I really feel that good?" You giggled- beyond flattered by his tortured expression.
There was no beat between the end of your sentence and his hushed response, "Yes."
You knew about vague stereotypes of guys with shitty endurance. You didn't have first-hand experience until you watched his expression shift, swirling, panic and euphoria taking one another over again and again.
He 'ruined' his orgasm by keeping your needs first. He knew you couldn't take what he wanted. His body was like iron, forced motionless, like a statue, except for the rapid, uneven rise and fall of his chest.
It looked like a delicious mix of pained and sexy as he came, almost perfectly still, so he didn't hurt you.
A kind of psychotic, intrusive desire made you tense-- the curious, hungry want to get rid of the condom between you. How much better would that have felt without it?
The sheets groaned, fabric snagging and snapping, under his grip. His body was all flexed up for you to watch. You knew he was trying to keep you in mind, so you didn't try anything too cute until he started relaxing, again.
"Hm-mmph--, fuck--," He groaned, a tremble in his arms as he slowly pulled out.
His exhaustion was short-lived, only manifested in a breathiness in his chuckle.
"Good thing I brought two."
This time you saw him take out a second one- but it wasn't just two. He had a whole row of condoms in his pocket this entire time.
You giggled at how he tore the second one off. What could he have possibly been thinking to bring seven along?
Bokuto harnessed some pornstar-like efficiency, tearing the outside open and pumping the latex onto himself with no waste of energy.
"Y'know," He cocked his head to the side, silly, despite his thumb sliding over your clit, "I've never cum that fast."
"Mmn-h-- Ah- that's- that's good--," You struggled.
A useful thing to know, sure, but it's not like you really cared- he never got soft. It was a non-issue because he was still clearly up for more.
He filled you back up so easy and slow, his thumb prodding stuttery waves of pleasure where there was once pain. He watched it with an air of pride about him. He sat up straighter, focused on where he disappeared into you. He soaked in all your twitching until he got his fill.
Only when he was satisfied did he lean down to his elbows to check on you.
Your had to fill your hands with his perfect muscles, all bouncy and twitchy at how overstimulated you got him. He was huffing, swallowing his groans so he didn't look uncool-- restrained or not, he would've looked just as cute.
He just wanted to fuck you good. For you to remember it well.
"Mmnh-! You're so big-,"
Those giant, fuck-me-harder eyes kept his shoulders tight. His hand was gripping your hip like a vice and bringing you down onto him.
His cock sank deep, a grumbly sound under his quiet, breathy whining-- your breath caught, and you had the brief revelation that you had been missing out on this for so long. How long had they been friends for? Years?
You wanted to make up for all the lost time. You locked your ankles around him for the second time, your hands pulling him back so you could put some hickeys all up and down his thick neck.
Though you had some vague idea that he loved when you hugged him close, you didn't understand the depth in which it turned him on.
It was one of those quick-affirming, sweet and wordless praises that resonated so hard with Bokuto's insatiable need to be validated.
He had to ask. He wanted more, he wanted to hear you.
"That feel good?" His hand cupped your entire jaw, forcing your eyes on his, ever so focused.
Your grip on his forearm was like an ant trying to push over a tree. It would never budge. And when it didn't, it took very little time to realize you actually liked it there. Your reflex did nothing to serve you, but you kept your hand still to prod at the muscle.
The breath you took to answer him was wasted on another moan.
"Ah-h--,"
"I want ya to tell me," His insistence was daunting, but filled with need.
"I--,"
Your nails were digging into his skin, and you were gasping, trying to tell him you were close- but none of it came out properly.
It was all just improper, uncontrollable, unmasked whining.
A bit late, he was witness to your adorable realization that you were cumming. He murmured a small, infatuated, "Aww..."
His lips pressed hard to your temple, and he let you pull him in, offering only the bulk of his shoulder as consolation for his deeper thrusts. It was a taste of what he could give you if only this wasn't your first, if you had been used to him from the start.
An orgasm had never felt so filled out, before. Like it was larger than you, stronger than anything you'd be able to craft on your own, from just your fingers. It was him. His cock, but moreso was his intensity and devotion to getting you there and fucking you all the way through it.
His hand was still cupping the bottom half of your face, but not covering your mouth. God, he wanted the entire world to know how good he made you feel. Especially Kuroo. Fuck that guy for keeping you a secret.
"Good girl, ohh- you did so good," He was slowing, still seeing those last, shallower, mellow waves through with dedication, "Sound sooo pretty."
Those eyes were softer, but still eating you up, savoring you while you were all messy for him.
Were you dating, now? It felt like you had been shot forward about ten years with this guy.
A light buzzing -the muted ring of a phone- was somewhere near you, interrupting your giggly, feel-good vibe. Again, and still just as surprising, Bokuto slowly pulled out of you and made quick work of that second condom.
He patted around the sheets for the source of the sound.
"Oh!"
He let the ringing continue- he had to get his idea out immediately: "That totally reminds me! I should get you a vibrator or something."
Jaw slack, you weren't given the opportunity to respond, before he answered. You lay there, a bit shivery and empty-feeling, as he hugged your thigh over his own.
"Hellooo?"
It was quiet. There was a faint, urgent, tone on the other side.
"Ummmm..."
His fingers tapped against your skin. He was lost in deep thought of how to respond. You were glad you couldn't hear the words being spoken, because you knew it was not going to be a pleasant earful.
"Yeah-... I mean, we were just talking... and... stuff."
Bokuto got droopier. He sank, sitting on his heels, still sitting butt-naked and hugging your thigh. You squeezed one of your blankets to your chest and frowned.
"It's nothing personal, man..."
He held the phone away from his ear as he was verbally berated, a pout making his whole face look cartoonishly sad. It was difficult, on your end, to understand that he could both be super into you and want to stay friends with Tetsurou.
"Would it make it any better iiiif I told you we were dating now?"
Bokuto winced and slid his free hand back and forth over your leg as consolation, for himself.
"Yeahyeahyeah, I gotchu, yeahyeah. Okay'bye," He hung up at the soonest crafted opportunity.
"Soooo," He sighed, distraught, instantly making up any distance between you. He dropped so much weight atop your sore body and covered you like a warm, weighted blanket, that you struggled to get air in your lungs.
"He's... not... happy."
The big dummy on top of you deflated with each word in a dismal decrescendo.
You had to wriggle around to find somewhere to breath from; room for your chest to expand at least a little.
"I thought you knew that?"
Bokuto made a high humming sound, feet kicking in the air, "Mmmmmmyeahhh, kinda, but..."
You freed one arm to wrap around him, so you could play with his hair, "He can't stay mad forever. He'll see that you're not- harmful- I guess, eventually."
He let his brow relax, shoved hard into your shoulder, and took in your new comforting scent.
Part of you couldn't blame your brother for assuming the worst. It took until incredibly recently for you to understand the full scale of Bokuto's fixation.
Despite all his sad body language, he couldn't have been that worried, because he was already back to sly, tongue-centered kisses on your neck.
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so, who’s the clingiest?
achilles: [sitting on patroclus’ lap, twirling his black curl around his finger while nuzzling into his neck]
achilles: patroclus, obviously
I like Link’s new weird dog
My Home Screen for ✨autumn✨ (yes I did change all my Spotify playlist icons so the fit the vibe)
i hope patroclus and achilles are juggling figs and going swimming together in the afterlife
Local senior always down to party
Warnings/Tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, alcohol, tipsy!reader, squirting, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk!Sakusa, overstimulation, praise kink, bit of pussy slapping ♡ SET IN A TIMELINE WHERE ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED-UP AND OVER 18
Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Female Reader
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Kiyoomi Sakusa hates parties.
Too many people.
Too loud.
Too many germs.
It’s why he almost always declines to go to one whenever the rest of the MSBY team invites him along.
Parties in any shape and form make him uncomfortable, to be honest.
But what Sakusa hates more than parties themselves—is the idea of you going to one on your own without him there.
Not that he doesn’t trust you.
But it’s that he knows how volleyball players are at parties—especially when there’s a pretty girl and alcohol is involved.
Hence, the reason why he finds himself at a house party tonight that Atsumu invited the two of you to—while he stands away from everyone else, mask on, and holding a drink that he’s taken maybe one or two sips from.
Not because he wants to but—
But because there you are—in the crowd, giggling and drinking with a few other people—and he watches with a level of affection, only ever giving any other guy who even dares to touch you a single look that causes the hairs at the back of their neck to rise.
He talks to a few friends here and there, laughs, and takes another drink to loosen up as much as he’s willing to allow himself, but his eyes remain on you—
Almost protective.
He raises a brow when he notices you walking over to him—but all you do is grin, eyes droopy, as your lower lip gets pinched under your top teeth, and—
Oh.
He lets out a huff of breath filled with amusement when he sees you bat your lashes at him, giving him a certain look that he knows too well whenever you have alcohol in your system.
A look of want—need—with your eyes so murky with desire that if you looked at any other man like that, they’d probably take you to the nearest surface to bend you over and—
Well, you get the point.
Sakusa turns to face you—looking down at you with a tease in his voice. “The alcohol already gotten to that pretty little brain of yours?”
Your eyes grow alight with want, and your cheeks flush as you get closer to him to wrap your arms around his waist—and a pout adorns your red lips. “I’m only a little tipsy.”
That’s a lie.
He can see that right away with how foggy your eyes are and how red your cheeks are.
You’re more than just a little tipsy.
Not that he minds, though.
In fact, he’s letting out a breath of relief as he holds you back with one arm, the other still holding his drink, and he lowers his head so only you can hear him—his voice coming out a low rumble, “Let’s go then, love.”
Because whenever you’re like this—it gives him an excuse to leave.
To go home and take care of you in a way that he knows what you need right now.
You nod, eager, excitement shooting up your nerves as he guides you through crowds of people—him saying bye to those he gives a shit about, and—
And that’s how, about an hour later, you end up back at his apartment—his bedroom door locked—as your body sinks into his plush mattress, one of your hands carding through his silk-softened hair that’s nestled between your thighs.
“Fuck—”
You suck in a shaky breath as a flat tongue runs from your entrance to your clit, and you whine as Sakusa hooks his arms under your thighs to bring your pussy flush against his mouth—his mask thrown off somewhere in the midst of you two kissing so deeply on your way here—and he spits on your clit, making your cunt pulse.
“You’re always so wet when you drink,” Sakusa groans against you, his mouth covering your entire pussy as his jaw goes to work, sucking and eating you out like he's starved.
Just the way you like it when you’re this tipsy—the alcohol making you pleasantly warm, mixed with how his tongue and mouth feel on you.
It’s like you’re drowning in a pool of liquid heat as he makes out with your cunt, his tongue dipping in and running through your pillowy folds, and all you can do is lay there and take it with your toes curling and your fingers digging in his hair.
It’s funny when you really think about it.
One would think that he—of all people—would be against this.
Grossed out by it, even.
But he’s the complete opposite with you in bed and behind closed doors.
He’s fucking dirty—uncaring of how messy he gets as your fluids gush onto his face as he fucks you with his tongue, eating your pussy and licking your clit like it’s honey.
He even likes it more when you’re fucking yourself back—riding his face—making his eyes roll back, eyebrows furrowed, and a groan being muffled against your soft pussy.
He doesn’t care about the way his chin gets drenched from your juices—not when it means he can hear you moan so pretty for him, and feel your plush thighs squeeze around his head.
He’s so intoxicated by having his hot tongue in your cunt that he finds himself growing light-headed—his bulge growing and pre-cum leaking against his sweatpants as he licks and licks until you’re cumming on his tongue, moaning his name as you buck your hips into his face.
“Oh god—Omi, ‘ts too much now—”
He hears you.
Loud and clear.
But he doesn’t stop.
He doesn’t stop giving your poor, puffy little clit kitten licks as your cry from overstimulation.
He doesn’t stop holding onto your thighs right where they are—keeping your pussy close to his mouth so he can lap you up, not wanting to waste a single drop of your fluids drooling everywhere.
“You’re okay,” His voice is rough, and his eyes move up to look at your body—taking in the way your chest is rising and falling with quick breaths, your nipples are hard and waiting to also be sucked on—and he gives your sopping cunt one long, wide glide of his wet tongue from bottom to top. “Just give me one more, baby. Just one.”
Instead, it’s never only one more.
Once he’s in this position with his stomach flat on the bed and comfortably lying in between your legs—
Sakusa doesn’t intend to stop anytime soon.
You taste too fucking good.
You feel too warm.
And you sound so damn needy and pretty for him.
You whine, a sob escaping you, and you shake your head. “Omi—please—”
But then your words die with a gasp when you feel him nip the curve of the skin of where your cunt and inner thigh meet—and you let out a ragged exhale, his voice thick and smooth as he kisses your thigh.
“I’m sorry, baby,” You feel so dizzy from the heat that you throw an arm over your forehead, panting as you feel two of his fingers strum your dripping folds before spreading them apart, glistening and throbbing. “You know I can’t help it.”
He doesn’t let you say anything else, though.
Not when he immediately dives back in to prod his tongue into your tight walls, flexing and curling it to bring you back to that hot, buzzing ache in your belly.
And he keeps your folds open for him to get drunk on—sucking and licking and nipping while his nose bumps against your clit, feeling his hairs tickle your thighs as he gets you to orgasm again.
And again.
And again—
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Omi!”
He gets his tongue all worked up, mouth open and thumb rubbing your swollen clit until you’re cumming for the fourth time like this—fluids squirting on his face as your abused and soaked cunt spasms, his name on your tongue as you cry, and he drinks it all up like he’s needy for your taste.
“Such a good pussy, baby,” Sakusa sucks on your clit with obscene suction noises, making tears stream down your cheeks as a few more spurts of liquid squirt out of you—you’re so fucking overstimulated—and his face is a mess at this point, too.
When he eventually does pull away—his lips are swollen and shiny—you don’t even have it in you to force your limbs to move anymore.
You’re so fucked out and he hasn’t even put his cock inside you yet.
“You took it all so well for me.”
Sakusa looks down at your body—so sweet and perfect—and he can’t help but smile at the little mess he’s made between your legs.
He then unties the strings to his sweatpants as he sits back on his knees, his dick throbbing to feel your pussy swallow him, and once his thick cock bounces free—
He gives your pussy a slap—his palm against it with a harsh sting—making you whimper, then cups his hand over you as some way to soothe your tired cunt.
“I just need you to lie there and be pretty for me now, okay baby?”
end.
Masterpost