open up

Kuroo’s wrist hesitates when you squeeze his shoulder even tighter, nails biting through his shirt and your teeth biting into his other palm. With sharp ears, he listens — long enough to realize the coast is clear, but too short to give you any real comfort. Your eyes are still round in shock when the hand under your skirt starts back up again. And this time, instead of hearing footsteps, you hear the sound of lewd, wet thrusts between your legs.

“Kuroo,” you try to hiss out, but your lips are still tightly muffled.

“Shh, shh,” he coos. He jerks his fingers faster inside of you, feeling you tighten and just barely catching how your gaze rolls back in pleasure in the darkened supply closet. “Are you trying to get caught now, baby girl?”

Fuck that, of course you’re not trying to get caught. Can you imagine one of your peers getting too curious by the whimpers and moans? It’s bad enough that some of the footfalls outside slow down for chatter, but if they opened the door?

“You’re getting wetter.” Kuroo moves his hand off your mouth and bites at your bottom lip softly, a teasing little nip that you bare register due to the shocks from below numbing your senses. “I think you’re almost ready.”

You try to imagine anything but the doorknob turning. Anything but the darkness around you shrinking into light as the door opens. Anything but the show you’d be giving a stranger — or friend, or professor — if they heard you. And try as you might, your brain is too far blissed-out to stop the cry that slips from your throat.

Kuroo smirks.

“Thatta girl. Feels good to let loose, huh?” He curls his fingers and jerks his hand back and forth against one spot inside you, teeth somehow glinting when he grins at the way you try to cover your whines with trembling hands. “I bet you’d cum harder if I opened the door.”

It’s a pitiful last resort, but you shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut. If you just pretend you’re still in the dark safety of the closet with no one outside, then you’ll get through this!

But he knows your body better than you care to admit. The hand that was once keeping you quiet reaches for the doorknob, the slight click of his rings against the metal making your eyes flutter open.

Don’t do it, don’t do it, please, please, please don’t do it...!

“What’s that look? Beg for what you want like you always do when we’re alone.” His grip tightens and so do you when his thumb presses down on your clit.

“Please,” you breathe out, desperately trying to whisper, hold your breath, count to 10, anything to not be noisy.

“Please... open the door? Please fuck you? What, babe?” Like the cocky bastard he is, Kuroo twists the doorknob, moving his fingers in a shallow, quickened pace. He can’t tell if he want you to cum now or on his cock, but he does know that he wants to milk this moment out. The more frustrated you are, the better you are for him. What fun would it be if you gave in right away? No, he enjoys winding you up until you spiral out of control, and you’re almost there.

You refuse to be heard by anyone but him, leaning into him and burying your face in the collar of his shirt. “Please fuck me,” you whimper softly, core throbbing as he holds you on edge.

Close enough. Kuroo pulls his hand out from between your legs and moves it to his, finally freeing himself from his jeans. And just because he’s cruel, he lets go and twists the doorknob again, shifting your focus elsewhere with those cute, fearful doe eyes he’s gotten addicted to. “I’ll fuck you under one condition.”

Your stare shifts from the door to him once more. Obedience, impatience, nerves — all of it is rolling off of you and baiting the voice in his head that tempts him to ruin you for anyone else. He wants people to catch the two of you just as much as you do, but he wants them to know that you’re his even more.

“You have to keep your hands on the door the entire time, bent over, and no leaning off of it even if I twist the handle.” He fists his cock with your arousal and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “If you understand-”

You don’t give him a second more to explain before you’re bent over, legs apart, back arched, and palms pressed tight up against the door.

God, you’re so fucking good for him.

Kuroo lets go of the doorknob only for a second to properly position himself behind you, one hand on the small of your back and the other around his length. When you feel the tip press against your lips, you arch your back more, willing yourself to open up more for him. Unlike you, Kuroo doesn’t let out a sound as the head pushes past, but you feel his praises in the sting of his nails in your back, all the way from top to bottom while he fills you from bottom to top. It’s tight; he’s big, and you start seeing stars when the pressure becomes too much for your stomach. He’s seated as deep as possible inside you, nudging right up against your womb and making your legs shake.

“Kuroo,” you whine this time in need and not irritation, almost shrinking away because you feel too stretched out. But if you shrink any more then he’d definitely bloom you back open.

“I know, I know, just stay right there,” he mumbles.

You think he’s giving you time to adjust, and you really would prefer he fuck you open instead, but you realize too late that he only paused to reach for the doorknob again, the click of metal alerting you.

“No- ah!” Out of reflex, you cover your mouth. A bad move on your part, because Kuroo’s second thrust is much stronger than the first. Your hands are slipping while you try to steady yourself, cries barely held back behind your teeth around your bottom lip. You’re getting exactly what you asked for, but you swear you hear him turn the handle again when you finally get all your weight propped on the door.

open up

Kuroo’s wrist hesitates when you squeeze his shoulder even tighter, nails biting through his shirt and your teeth biting into his other palm. With sharp ears, he listens — long enough to realize the coast is clear, but too short to give you any real comfort. Your eyes are still round in shock when the hand under your skirt starts back up again. And this time, instead of hearing footsteps, you hear the sound of lewd, wet thrusts between your legs.

“Kuroo,” you try to hiss out, but your lips are still tightly muffled.

“Shh, shh,” he coos. He jerks his fingers faster inside of you, feeling you tighten and just barely catching how your gaze rolls back in pleasure in the darkened supply closet. “Are you trying to get caught now, baby girl?”

Fuck that, of course you’re not trying to get caught. Can you imagine one of your peers getting too curious by the whimpers and moans? It’s bad enough that some of the footfalls outside slow down for chatter, but if they opened the door?

“You’re getting wetter.” Kuroo moves his hand off your mouth and bites at your bottom lip softly, a teasing little nip that you bare register due to the shocks from below numbing your senses. “I think you’re almost ready.”

You try to imagine anything but the doorknob turning. Anything but the darkness around you shrinking into light as the door opens. Anything but the show you’d be giving a stranger — or friend, or professor — if they heard you. And try as you might, your brain is too far blissed-out to stop the cry that slips from your throat.

Kuroo smirks.

“Thatta girl. Feels good to let loose, huh?” He curls his fingers and jerks his hand back and forth against one spot inside you, teeth somehow glinting when he grins at the way you try to cover your whines with trembling hands. “I bet you’d cum harder if I opened the door.”

It’s a pitiful last resort, but you shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut. If you just pretend you’re still in the dark safety of the closet with no one outside, then you’ll get through this!

But he knows your body better than you care to admit. The hand that was once keeping you quiet reaches for the doorknob, the slight click of his rings against the metal making your eyes flutter open.

Don’t do it, don’t do it, please, please, please don’t do it...!

“What’s that look? Beg for what you want like you always do when we’re alone.” His grip tightens and so do you when his thumb presses down on your clit.

“Please,” you breathe out, desperately trying to whisper, hold your breath, count to 10, anything to not be noisy.

“Please... open the door? Please fuck you? What, babe?” Like the cocky bastard he is, Kuroo twists the doorknob, moving his fingers in a shallow, quickened pace. He can’t tell if he want you to cum now or on his cock, but he does know that he wants to milk this moment out. The more frustrated you are, the better you are for him. What fun would it be if you gave in right away? No, he enjoys winding you up until you spiral out of control, and you’re almost there.

You refuse to be heard by anyone but him, leaning into him and burying your face in the collar of his shirt. “Please fuck me,” you whimper softly, core throbbing as he holds you on edge.

Close enough. Kuroo pulls his hand out from between your legs and moves it to his, finally freeing himself from his jeans. And just because he’s cruel, he lets go and twists the doorknob again, shifting your focus elsewhere with those cute, fearful doe eyes he’s gotten addicted to. “I’ll fuck you under one condition.”

Your stare shifts from the door to him once more. Obedience, impatience, nerves — all of it is rolling off of you and baiting the voice in his head that tempts him to ruin you for anyone else. He wants people to catch the two of you just as much as you do, but he wants them to know that you’re his even more.

“You have to keep your hands on the door the entire time, bent over, and no leaning off of it even if I twist the handle.” He fists his cock with your arousal and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “If you understand-”

You don’t give him a second more to explain before you’re bent over, legs apart, back arched, and palms pressed tight up against the door.

God, you’re so fucking good for him.

Kuroo lets go of the doorknob only for a second to properly position himself behind you, one hand on the small of your back and the other around his length. When you feel the tip press against your lips, you arch your back more, willing yourself to open up more for him. Unlike you, Kuroo doesn’t let out a sound as the head pushes past, but you feel his praises in the sting of his nails in your back, all the way from top to bottom while he fills you from bottom to top. It’s tight; he’s big, and you start seeing stars when the pressure becomes too much for your stomach. He’s seated as deep as possible inside you, nudging right up against your womb and making your legs shake.

“Kuroo,” you whine this time in need and not irritation, almost shrinking away because you feel too stretched out. But if you shrink any more then he’d definitely bloom you back open.

“I know, I know, just stay right there,” he mumbles.

You think he’s giving you time to adjust, and you really would prefer he fuck you open instead, but you realize too late that he only paused to reach for the doorknob again, the click of metal alerting you.

“No- ah!” Out of reflex, you cover your mouth. A bad move on your part, because Kuroo’s second thrust is much stronger than the first. Your hands are slipping while you try to steady yourself, cries barely held back behind your teeth around your bottom lip. You’re getting exactly what you asked for, but you swear you hear him turn the handle again when you finally get all your weight propped on the door.

strawberry pop back at it again.... LOL ty for reading/sharing/helping