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i just want to moan sugurus name
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loser!kuroo has really bad allergies and keep sneezing and it annoys the shit out of reader. but after the third or fourth sneeze she notices something weird and keeps staring at him.
getting nervous, kuroo shyly asks if something’s wrong. “everything alright?”
she shrugs. “it’s nothing,” letting the silence linger for a bit, reader pipes up again.
“did you know the face you make before you sneeze is also the same face you make when you’re about to cum?”
kuroo chokes on his drink.
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geto suguru who never stops talking about you. he is a composed man but his ear perk up at the slightest mention of you or the things you like. you plagued his mind. he is always down the street thinking about what you'd be doing. all those desserts that he used to despise, have soon started getting comfortable on his taste buds just because you liked it. he didn't even notice how your habits started infecting him too. but a little change was nice. you are the only thing igniting the flame of his will to live when he himself is sabotaging the little fire, blowing it away.
the two girls he is raising ask him for your picture. he is shunned for a second but the shock merges into a smile. he whips out his phone and hands them to the girls.
"that's her. my wife."
"but...these are the pictures of the sky." they look at him with a confused expression only to find a tear roll down his eye.
"yes. isn't she beautiful? i hope she's doing fine there." they don't know how to reply except to tear up themselves.
"i hope i get to meet her. but with all that i've done in this life, i am sure i am going to hell." he looks up at the sky, the clouds dispersed and sunrays peeking. "although, it's fine. loving her was heaven on earth anyways."
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Grocery Shopping.
Ft. Suna Rintarō
Notes: NSFW minors dni, fingering, car sex, afab reader, fluff at beginning, swearing, pet names
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“rin,” you groan, as the crooked wheel of the trolley jams into the back of your heel for the millionth time. “drive the goddamn trolley straight, please.”
there’s a laugh. husky and low, belonging to the man you call your own.
“but, love,” he whines, that familiar drawl in his nonchalant tone as he pushes the trolley a little so you’re walking side by side. “it’s not my fault it’s wonky. you should take that up with someone who works here,”
you can’t help but roll your eyes at his teasing tone and instead decide to aim your focus at the apples that are cheaper than usual. the shine of the skin “a-peeling” as suna comments behind you.
you usually shop together, late at night like this when he doesn’t have training. it’s probably the only time when you’re not drowned in work or your boyfriend is building up his thighs like a god at the gym.
“doll, what else was on the list?” your lover’s voice is serious, as he stares at the aisle numbers in concentration. “why am i thinking of butter? did we even need butter?” your laugh resounds in his ear, as you explain it was bread, not butter. “ohhh, bread. gotcha. be back in a second.” he shoots you an award winning smile, before pushing the trolley to the bread aisle, almost looking too elated to be here with you at the supermarket.
“what’s gotten into him?” you mumble to yourself as you pick up other items on the mental list you made. when ten minutes have passed, and no rintarō has appeared for a suspicious amount of time, you walk down briskly, scanning each aisle.
“rin?” you call, scanning through every area, like a lookout team.
“darling, over here!” an excited voice rings out and you stop in your tracks, walking down the dangerously alluring sweets aisle.
“what are you doing?” you ask with a laugh, seeing wide and excited eyes gracing your boyfriend’s features.
“they have chūpets in stock!” his hands can’t seem to move any faster, as he looks through the different flavours.
“i’ve never seen you more excited, truly,” you say teasingly, as he gives you a pointed look.
“i get excited about plenty of things, hun. i’ve got no idea what you’re saying,”
“yeah? and how much are you willing to bet chūpets are better than sex?” you dare ask, wondering what his reply will be. there’s a beat of silence.
“fuck. that’s a hard question.” he replies, his face grim with indecisiveness. you laugh, playfully hitting his arm.
“you actually have to think about it?” i ask, as he places three packets of chūpets into the trolley. the two of you head to the self check out, scanning your items.
“i mean, both are good. very good,”
“but this is sex i’m talking about. you really believe jelly fruit sticks compare?” your banter is comfortable and flirtatious, as rintarō pushes the trolley to your car. as he unloads the bags, he hums in thought.
“chūpets are gifts from the gods themselves, love. i can’t argue with fact,” his voice clearly pokes fun at you, as he shuts the boot door with a firm hand.
“i’d argue they’re not as satisfying as a good blow job,”
“what? ‘cause of the same sucking motion?” he says, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“suna rintarō!” you cry out, giving him a look of pure unadulterated shock. “you did not just say that!”
he shrugs, but the grin on his face is practically devilish. “did i?” he puts the trolley away with a satisfied look plastered over his features. “why? are you going to prove me wrong, angel?” at this, his voice is lower now; richly suave and so thick with desire, you might as well be bathing in honey.
“you’re a tease. a fucking tease, you know that?”
“mmm, i did, actually.” a gentle hand grasps your hip, as he pulls you in, closing all distance between you.
“we’re in the middle of a car park, rintarō,” you remind him, your lips severely close to his. shit, you want to kiss him so badly.
“it’s almost midnight, doll. nobody’s around to see us,” his lips graze yours, but only for a second. “besides, we gotta test that bet of ours,”
another kiss breaks the surface fleetingly, before you’re dragged into the back seats of the car, the door shutting firmly behind you.
“rin, it’s not more than a fifteen minute drive hom-” you don’t get to finish your sentence as you’re pulled under your boyfriend, his lips crashing against yours.
it takes you a minute to regain your breathing, only to lose it again, his hands in your hair, yours around his neck as he craves for more.
“i want you, darling. right here, right now.”
and you’d be a complete fool to deny him that.
“then take me,” you whisper into his mouth before you’re kissing again, his tongue finding his way into your mouth as his touches grow rougher.
“fuck.” he groans, peppering your neck with kisses as his hands trail down to the buttons of your pants. “let me taste you,” he pleads, untying the string of his sweats. “can i have you, baby? please?”
“yes,” you breathe, watching as his pants and boxers are discarded carelessly, his hands coming back to cup your cheeks. “you can have me, rin,”
he groans, a guttural sound as he lifts your legs over his shoulders in one fluid motion, kissing your inner thighs. “big claim to make, angel. i’m gonna make you feel so fucking good,”
his mouth seems to second that statement, as you whimper from the touch of his lips near your entrance. his tongue comes next, a sword against your shield, digging his way through to you with a muffled moan. “you taste so good, doll. always taste so good for me, don’t you?”
“fuck, rin!” you cry out, as a pale, slim finger penetrates your folds. “oh god, oh fuck-” you choke out, babbling mindlessly as his fingers are practically sucked in and out of your hole.
“not even the real thing yet, baby. already so responsive,” he hums, thrusting another finger inside. your moans only compel him to insert another, his movements gradually getting faster and rougher.
“i want you, rin,” you plead. “just give it to me already. stop teasing me,”
“sweetheart, i haven’t done anything of the kind,” he smiles, pulling out his wet fingers, licking them as he watches you. “but since you’re so insistent sex is better than my beloved chūpets, i guess i’ll give you what you want,”
a ragged gasp of air comes out of you as the tip starts to slowly sink in.
“ahh- rin, shit, you’re so- fuck! you’re big,” you ramble, thoughts simply unable to pass through you. rintarō continues his pursuit, delving in deeper, as he thrusts against your walls in an effort to derail you from coherency.
when he bottoms out, your cries are strangled as crescent moons crease his t-shirt, your grip on him, unrelenting.
“fuck, hun, you’re tight,” he hisses, his base reaching your skin as he begins to move, hard and fast. rintarō’s hips rock into yours, the wild bucking sensation almost too much as you moan wantonly.
“t-the car is shaking-” you manage to choke out, but it’s like your boyfriend doesn’t hear you, his relentless pursuit of breaking down your walls his only mission.
his cock fills you up so deeply, you can barely move as your pleas for more only seem to invigorate him to pound you harder.
each thrust is like a message, one that tells you that there’s no place either of you would rather be, but with each other. rintarō’s cock remains hard and swollen inside of you, his desperate grunts filling the car.
“release for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his tone the personification of velvet. “show me how good i make you feel,” each touch sends you ablaze, your whimpers music to rintarō’s ears as his skin dances over yours.
“r-rin!” you all but scream, the pleasure blinding as his cock slams into your walls, a sign of love as you moan. “i’m gonna… fucking hell, i’m gonna cum,”
“that it’s, darling. cum all over this fat dick for me, yeah?” rintarō smiles as his hard member urges to release. but he waits. suna rintarō can be patient when he wants to.
“close, ‘m close!” you sob, hips held in place by suna’s firm grip. “rin- hnngh~ rintarō!”
there’s a low chuckle from your boyfriend as he hits your g-spot more consistently. “go on. let it all out for me, doll. you know i’m good for it,”
you swear loudly, your voice shaky as you announce your climax again. the coil in your stomach tightens, and then releases all at once. “i’m cumming!” you groan, thighs trembling as rintarō pants from the overexertion.
“fuck, that feels so good. your cum feels so warm on my cock.” he whispers, the words so vulgar it makes you moan a little more. “wait, wait. quiet down for me,” he requests, and you bite your lip to hold your silence.
“you hear that, hun?” suna asks, his cum-soaked cock rubbing against your walls. the motion produces a series of audibly lewd noises, the squelch making you tense up on him, all over again.
you can’t handle it anymore, writhing with pleasure as your lover pulls out, his cock covered with your fluids. “where should i cum, baby? tell me where i should, we wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” his tone is sly, like he wanted this all along. you can barely answer as his seed squirts all over your bare stomach, as he kisses you deeply. you press your lips back hungrily, tongues finding their way to meet each other’s as your shared moans echo in the backseats.
“better than sex?” you choke out now, your back limp against the car seat as you both pant heavily. there is a moment of quiet, aside from the jagged breathing before suna quips.
“yeah, maybe,” your boyfriends winks. “i’m playing with you, doll. sex is always better,”
“i fucking told you so,” you groan as he laughs, the sound resonating in your ear as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind it.
“let’s go home. i’m not finished with you yet.” suna says with a cheeky smile.
“i didn’t think you’d be,” you say sarcastically as he sits you up, cleaning the sticky mess with a tissue.
“what can i say, love? i’m a man with very specific needs,”
you can’t help but laugh. “is that right?”
“only the facts,” he replies, meeting his lips with yours for another kiss. “i love you, darling.”
“i love you too, rin.”
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first full smut fic ‼️ i hope this isn’t just a bunch of tomfoolery 😵‍💫
banner credits: @cafekitsune <3
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⊹˚₊‧ twenty (20) BF!SUNARIN headcanons!!
yes, you read that right. it's 20 hcs!! bcs it was his bday :3
ps! if this post seems familiar—i actually posted this on my old blog months before privating the post :> and i love this post sm that i rlly want to repost it here T-T uhm, anyway! this is also the newly edited version 😁
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bf!sunarin who loves sending tiktoks to you—his entire tiktok fyp. he doesn’t care if the tiktok was relatable or not, he would still send it either way. you can’t really blame him—his tiktok fyp is frankly interesting. it is also common for him to send you some of the latest couple trends along with the message saying, “let’s do this trend.”
bf!sunarin who loves posting you in his instagram stories more than anything. he even made an instagram highlight on his profile dedicated to you. he posts you a lot on his stories to the point that his followers thought that his instagram account is a stan account about you. 
bf!sunarin who would always carry a hair tie with him in case you needed it. he would even help you tie your hair if you wanted to. you want a simple ponytail or a braided updo? he can nail both. thank his skills for he got those after being his little sister’s personal hairstylist when they were younger. 
bf!sunarin who is a great photographer who loves and enjoys taking candid pictures of you. he even made a folder dedicated to candid pictures of you. sometimes he would even be such a tease and make a meme out of your candid pictures before sending it to you.
bf!sunarin who still loves taking those “soft launch” photos with you and posting them on his social media even if almost everyone already knows that the two of you are dating. 
bf!sunarin who loves coming over to your home—uninvited or not—to have some quality time with you. most of the time the two of you would just end up cuddling together and watching movies until both of you falls asleep. 
bf!sunarin who will often message you to ask if you want to go to a convenience store or any other fast food chain available in the most ungodly hours. sometimes he would randomly drive by your home to come to pick you up even if you haven’t replied to his text message yet. 
bf!sunarin who enjoys having midnight walks and car rides with you. he finds this as the best time to have a one-on-one conversation with you since it would just be the two of you and the silence of the night. and the most common topics that the two of you always talk about are the “remember when” conversations. he would even pull up his phone and show some receipts like photos or videos he had taken during those times. 
bf!sunarin who will definitely make a spotify playlist about you and your relationship. he also loves playing those playlists whenever the two of you go on your occasional midnight car rides or just road trips in general. 
bf!sunarin who loves seeing you wearing his hoodies and jerseys—especially his high school jersey. he also likes taking candid pictures of you wearing those before putting them in a separate folder in his gallery. 
bf!sunarin who always holds your hand in public. and if he’s not holding your hand, his hand would either be placed on your waist or at the small of your back. 
bf!sunarin who is absolutely physically affectionate towards you in private. he loves peppering you with kisses on your forehead, jaw, neck, and nape, before giving you a passionate kiss on the lips.
bf!sunarin who loves spooning you whenever the two of you cuddle or sleep together on the bed. and if the two of you are sleeping on the couch, you bet you would be sleeping on top of his body with his arms wrapped around your body.
bf!sunarin who will always try to find you among crowds of people—may it be during a party that he knows you’ll attend or on the benches whenever he has a match. 
bf!sunarin who will always mention your name during special mentions in interviews and awards—highlighting that you are very significant in his life. 
bf!sunarin who likes talking about you positively to his family and friends. he isn’t such an open person to his family, but when it comes to you? he’s definitely talking about you in full detail even if they just asked a simple yes or no question about you. 
bf!sunarin who likes listening to your interests and rants. you like this certain book or video game? he’s listening—he might even try it out for himself. you find this one coworker of yours annoying? he’s listening. he’s like your living diary but don’t worry, your secrets are safe with him.
bf!sunarin who likes listening to any tea you have to spill. he would even share his thoughts and knowledge about the tea that you are sharing with him. and of course, he also likes spilling you the tea he has gathered all over social media and in person.
bf!sunarin who may not be good at studying and cooking but will try his best to help you out. you don’t have the time to prepare some snacks for yourself while studying? he’s already getting his car keys to go to the nearest fast food chain to get you a takeout. you’re going to make dinner? you bet he is already on his way to buy the ingredients that you’ll need. 
bf!sunarin who suddenly insists that the two of you should try making waxed hands for some quality time with each other. little did you know that he’s going to use the waxed hands that you guys will make to measure your ring size so that he can finally buy an engagement ring and pop you the question.
bf!kita shinsuke headcanons
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𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | repost, modification, and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited.
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is anyone else sobbing BECAUSE I AM
🫠🫠🫠🫠
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a bit dirty - ch6
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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 ♡
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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.
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♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡
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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 :)
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happy birthday my sexy cult leader, you would’ve love getting head from me.
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"I LOVE YOU AND ME ..." ✭ ✵ ✺ ❄ --> a haithamvoid special!
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royal!au satosugu ... centered around the 2006-2007 versions of them
✭ ✵ ✺ ❄ "DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT !"
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fic down below. mentions of sex included, though no explicit description. read at your own risk. fem!reader. royalty au, expect disturbing themes. short drabble, nothing much. like, reply, and reblog.
all the world's a stage, and all the men on that stage are yours the moment you step on. everything you need at your hands is right there - looks, personality, and a porcelain ballot of emotions which reside in your heart, eager to be broken through by a lucky suitor.
they will come visit you, and each time their goal is the same, to have your hand engulfed in theirs, to know that you will not leave; these sealing vows securing you a position high above many for the rest of your life. it is exactly the opposite of a fairytale, but thus, how must you know that the one you want is before you?
you don't know why you love someone, and that is the reason you need to know that you love them to no end. thus, is only a bonus when two prince charmings are added to the list, both with smiles that light up the whole world, that tell you - we love you, and therefore, the universe loves you. luck is on your side.
"hail the princes of the jujutsu empire, gojo satoru and geto suguru!" yin and yang, is the first thought that comes to your mind, strauss pounding in your ears as you flounce with a foreign duke whose lips are far too thin to be kissable and whose age far precedes his looks. black and white, darkness and light. hey, that rhymed.
"thank you." the raven-haired spoke, one hand pulling a glove onto the other, veins portruding like channels and rivers beneath the silken-like fabric. and then he turned to his companion, the snowy-haired.
there they stood, tall and proud, blue and olive eyes studied the room, and everything stopped, frozen in time, seductive and sweet like honey. from lidded eyes, you looked up and met their irises all the same, and you could swear that electricity struck you, freezing you in place like all the others who were one dancing like dolls.
you are the swan in place of many other ugly ducklings, and because of that, the princes of the jujutsu world must take you under their own swan wings, beauty prevalent and overwhelming. many admired, but none captured, and many looked from afar, but none up close.
that is, no one but you.
turn around, and there shalt you see the snowy-haired, who introduces himself as 'satoru' and lends you a hand, sweeping you off your feet - the rest still freeze in time, occasionally returning back onto beat, shoes clacking against a hard marble floor. the world seldom shines a spotlight on only two people, but there you and the prince are, the stars of all the universe.
all the planets look on as you are passed into the hands of another man, aura darker than the first, but eyes just as deep - if not more controlled. saint-saëns comes on, and you embrace this new halloween-titled spirit, nearly stepping on the foot of the dark-haired stranger prince who introduces himself as 'suguru'.
dance, he urges you on, dance for me, my little swan. so the orchestra swells in its personality and you along with each section - from strings to brass to woodwind. dress pooling around yourself, each layer following the last as this man, mysterious as ever, gives you a closed-mouth smile, long lashes nearly touching your forehead as he brings your ever-closer, almost in a needy kiss.
thus the battle continues, slid into the hands of satoru - it is as if the whole ballroom was made for the three of you and the three of you only, a magical sight really - and it is made for the three of you to star in and no one else, as the stars begin to settle in the night sky that faces the balconies that no one stands in to watch.
dance, dance, you little swans, till the early hours where the bewitching of romance haunts but the tension has dissipated into nothing more than lust.
clothes stripped and strewn, a corset untightened - you are able to breathe again, and to the two princes, they breath heavily at the sight of each other. a princess' bedroom is luxurious and huge, and the same must be said for the bed ... more than enough for them to let off steam, and for you to have a true experience.
like they have danced before with you, they lead you through this like a maze, yet again, only this time with heated open-mouthed kisses pressed to each others' necks. the orchestra in your mind sways evermore, and the spinning wheel in the other room clicks mechanically, oblivious to what happens in the princess' bed.
skin against skin, tell me, my princess, did you think this through? or does your reward system flare up to such an extent that you cannot, with the manipulation and wishes of these evil, evil princes, and their own desires in which they cannot control, and yet something seems so right that you cannot refuse their poison that they so obviously give to you, hand to you.
the swans nestle together, and so do the three of you, as the huge windows let in sunlight, rays in which blessings appear in and new life is born, and which also brightens up the specks of light in geto suguru's eyes and the blinding happiness that is the exposed shoulder of gojo satoru, and between them, a girl, bare beneath the sheets, a small smile on her face as she recalls.
they dance every night, in celebrations that last till the early hours of dawn and dance again before tireless sleep resumes the cycle of the day, where many more highlights await.
you dance every night in chase of that adrenaline, that poison that only two suitors can give to you, the princes of the jujutsu empire, the swans of a world that can only be described as hell.
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i have a very important question… if you watched sailor moon….
reblog for sample size 💜 add a comment or tag why if you’d like 💜
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can you imagine your daughter thinking your name is sweetheart because that is what your husband, gojo satoru, always calls you
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given my drought of an account is slowly waking itself up from it’s dust-blanketed coffin
should i post more of my descriptive/lyrical (how does one explain that style of writing where you feel the descriptions like air on your skin) works/fics
hmmmm
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BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL TETSURO — ༉‧₊˚.
ft. kuroo tetsuro !
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : sometimes you have to just stand back and admire how beautiful your lover truly is.
꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : sappy, sappy fluff. kuroo appreciation fic — WC : 1.1k
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : a little love letter to beloved tetsuro. please enjoy ᰔ dividers by @/cafekitsune.
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.゚
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there’s something to be said about how falling in love with someone enhances their natural beauty. the change isn’t noticeable right away, no, it happens slowly over time as you peel back their layers and discover who they truly are. the attraction grows stronger as your bond builds, leaving you awestruck when you finally realize.
objectively, kuroo had always been attractive. dazzling smirks and mischievous eyes that instantly had you head over heels, yearning to uncover every mystery that laid beneath his surface.
but as you grew closer and learned the many things that made up kuroo, you fell deeper into him in such an intimate way that you could never truly untangle your soul from his — not that you’d ever want to. everything he was made of was stardust — magic that shone through him and radiated the kind of beauty you would only hear about from myths, the kind that your mind couldn’t even fathom if you tried.
and yet here it was right before your eyes, paired with an amused smile that never failed to make you fall just a little more.
“what?” he asks, looking down at you, curiosity swimming in his amber eyes.
you can only look up at him in awe as you both stepped outside, the midnight blue sky melting into the dead of night, only pockets of starlight twinkling through the dark curtain shone past it, illuminating the man before you.
the moonlight kisses him, gently caressing his features before weaving itself through the shadows of his dark, unruly hair, revealing just how alluring he really is.
the kind of beauty that deserved the world’s undivided attention. to stop and stare in awe as the man before you goes about his life. how could someone make the mundane so effortlessly charming?
“nothing.” you smile, your hand finding his, folding your fingers into each other perfectly before giving them a gentle squeeze. “you’re beautiful, that’s all.”
kuroo tosses his head back and laughs wholeheartedly — the sound filling you with wonderment as his cackle echoes throughout the air, sweet satisfaction turning everything in you into mush as you watch his cheeks blossom into multitudes of pink and pretty reds.
your fingers splay on his chest, finding the familiar thump of his heart before curling your fist into itself, almost longing to touch deep within him the way he seems to have done to you.
his free hand comes up to catch yours, holding it near and dear to him as his attention shifts back down — gazing at you with so much love, completely over the moon from the compliment that spilled from your lips.
“i think you carry all the beauty in this relationship, sweetheart.” his voice is pure honey, sickly sweet that makes it all too easy for you to drown in.
“i love you, you know that?” you beam up at him. loving kuroo was as easy as breathing, one of the most simple things in the world yet held the very essence of life.
something intangible that seeps down into the marrow of your bones, nestling there as a comfortable weight and without it, you might as well float away.
“maybe.” he quips, shit-eating grin taking up his gorgeous face. “but i always love hearing you remind me.”
sharing the same breath, he closes the gap with a murmur of i love yous, soft lips gently caressing yours as if he had all the time in the world to explore the depths of your soul.
and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he does. the two of you getting lost in each other like you’ve done a million times before. strong arms encasing you in a warm embrace, sealing you off with a kiss as his lips write the most beautiful love letter you’ve ever received.
and what is a kiss if not a love letter?
the moment kuroo’s lips touched yours is when the words begin to bloom. a thoughtful greeting, followed by all the words he longs to say, words he’s said time and time again for you to hear.
carefully crafted just for you, a series of unspoken sentences filter through you. thoughts, feelings, every emotion poured into you with each glide of his lips against yours.
the ghost of the words from the tip of his tongue laid onto yours, signing off with the swirl of his signature.
and in the end, the envelope sealed shut with his saliva, a token of him for you to carry. pulling back with hopeful eyes as he’s already eager for your reply, the taste of his name lingering on your tongue.
a reply you’re all too equipped to return as you reconnect your lips with his.
you sigh in a sweet serenity as his tongue prods your mouth open, a noise he easily devours. kuroo chases for more, desperate to eat up all the saccharine sounds that slip out of your grasp.
after a moment or a millennium, he pulls away, strings of fate forever connecting you, twirled in the safety of your shared saliva. even as the liquid falls, coating you in his favorite gloss — the bond remains. kuroo’s fingers reach up, swiping along your swollen lips to catch your shared love on his thumb.
your heart quickens, threatening to flutter out of your chest as you watch him bring it to his own mouth, reclaiming it as his own little souvenir of the tender moment you shared — cherishing it like he does with every piece of you.
“ready to go? don’t wanna miss out on our dinner reservations because we decided to skip straight to our dessert now do we?” the playful lilt in his voice tells you all you need to know — he wouldn’t mind doing that one bit. but unfortunately, someone had to be the responsible one tonight.
you can’t help but giggle — magical and airy that rings in his ears, a declaration of love that has him swooning for you all over again. there’s a brief pause, both of his hands finding yours once again, intertwining them before he gifts them each a delicate kiss, a promise of more to come when the timing is right.
“i suppose.” the words drag out of your mouth, paired with the quick roll of your eyes. kuroo knew it was all in good fun though, a smirk slinking along his face in amusement from your dramatics. “but only if you make it up to me later.”
“oh love, i’d never dream of leaving you unsatisfied.”
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thank you for reading ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ᰔ
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i think im tweaking rn folks ... it's been so long since i've been on tumblr but whatever is going on up 🧠 has not rotted yet
anyway here's some slightly nsfw kuroo hc's
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
kuroo tetsuro who worships your body on the nights you come home later than he does, hands roaming across your sides, wrapping around your stomach, crooning sweet words into your ear, "come on, my love, can't a man touch his lover after such a long day?"
kuroo tetsuro who is adamant he is touch-starved because you came home so late, his eyes mirroring one of a puppy's as he begs for your attention, "darling, really, how can you refuse a face like this?" "i can always just close my eyes" "you're so mean??"
kuroo tetsuro who calls out lewd things as you undress, hyping you up as he whistles while you strip, acting like he's a photographer on the red carpet, "you could fuck me and i'd say thank you," "you do that anyway, tetsu."
kuroo tetsuro who whines your name when you're finally crawling into bed, cuddling up to your side, kissing your neck hungrily as you smile, "let me make you feel good, come on, my love," "we have work tomorrow, tetsu," "mmm, but i told you i had serious business to attend to, with you,"
kuroo tetsuro who ends up spooning you in bed, after you give in to his charms, grinding ever so slightly to relieve the tension in his boxers without being too rough, "fuck, baby, I wanna feel you. please, please, let me."
-------------
this is so self-indulgent, enjoy my loves 💋
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you're shaking with pleasure while rin is practically smiling into your neck, nipping your skin with his teeth, when there are shouts from your friends. their "where are you's" are met with stifled giggles as you both hastily put back on your clothes. elbows crash into the bathroom walls, shirt buttons put on crookedly, exposing your far-from-chaste celebration.
"rin! come on, let me put my clo-" "gimme another kiss, baby," "you're insatiable." "new year, new me?" "shut up."
rintarou suna would commence the new year by nutting inside you with his legs over your shoulders and then kiss your temple and say, "happy new year, baby" over the cheers from the other room.
happy late new year bbs <3
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Hockey Player Suguru
I'm back and hockey player suguru has a mad chokehold on me.
Info: College au, hockey player geto, fem! reader, the reader has a vagina, the reader is referred to as she/her. Lmk if you'd like me to make a more gender neutral one! Or even a part 2 :)
as always, requests are open!
warnings: nsfw, mean! geto, fuckboy! geto, sex, fucking, oral sex, fighting, mentions of blood, etc.
(lmk if I missed anything!)
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Hockey player! suguru 
Hockey player! suguru who’s the captain of the team.
Hockey player! suguru who has every girl's eyes on him. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s the college's notorious “fuck boy”.
Hockey player! suguru who has girls hanging on his big arms when he walks to class. 
Hockey player! suguru who has a girl leave his dorm room crying every night. 
Hockey player! suguru who goes through “girlfriends” faster than he makes goals. 
Hockey player! suguru who has a new girl wearing his jersey every single match. 
Hockey player! suguru who winks at said girl whenever he makes a goal. 
Hockey player! suguru who doesn’t hesitate to throw his hands on the ice. 
Hockey player! suguru who is in the penalty box more than on the actual ice. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s always beaten up and bloody after games. 
Hockey player! suguru who fucks in the locker room after matches. 
Hockey player! suguru who ruins girls for anyone else. 
Hockey player! suguru who asks, “Who are you?” the next day when the doe-eyed blonde who he fucked last night comes up to him before class. 
Hockey player! suguru who laughs in her face as tears well in her eyes. 
-
Hockey player! suguru who makes a 180 the moment his eyes land on your frame. 
Hockey player! suguru, who’s cockiness makes him think he’d have you all over him in seconds. 
Hockey player! suguru who stands there wide-eyed as you reject his advances. 
Hockey player! suguru who acts like it doesn’t affect him, but oh-boy it does. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s completely off his game next match. 
Hockey player! suguru who can’t get your “i’m good” out of his mind as he misses another easy shot. 
Hockey player!suguru who’s way too quick to throw a punch at his opponent. 
Hockey player! suguru who knocks the guy out cold. 
Hockey player! suguru who has his best friend, satoru, questioning his actions. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s out for the next game. 
Hockey player! suguru who gets mad when he sees you at the next match cheering for the rookie on the team. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s usually kind to his teammates begins to despise the little rookie, picking on him whenever he can. 
Hockey player! suguru who shows up to class one day only to realize you’ve transferred into the same class. 
Hockey player! suguru who makes small talk with you, even when you show your evident displeasure. 
Hockey player! suguru who begins noticing every detail about you. 
Hockey player! suguru who begins slowly bringing you your favorite snacks and drinks to class. 
Hockey player! suguru who all of the sudden needs help in the class, bothering you to tutor/help him. 
Hockey player! suguru who begins turning his life around when he thinks there's a chance he could be with you. 
Hockey player! suguru who stops inviting girls over whenever he wants. 
Hockey player! suguru who only gives his spare jersey to you. 
Hockey player! suguru who personally invites you to matches. 
Hockey player! suguru who notices everyone talking about the newfound “relationship” between the two of you going around campus. 
Hockey player! suguru who's ready to beat the shit out of his opponent who's talking unkindly about you. 
Hockey player! suguru who throws the first punch after he hears the, “I bet she’s easy, think I could hit?” 
Hockey player! suguru who glances up at you from the penalty box with a bloodied smile. 
Hockey player! suguru who takes the degrading as you patch up his bloodied fist and lip in the locker room.
Hockey player! suguru who can’t comprehend your soft hands against his rough ones. 
Hockey player! suguru who swears his heart stops when your plush lips meet his forehead before leaving the locker room. 
Hockey player! suguru who back in his dorm, touches himself to the thought of your hands being so much smaller than his.
Hockey player! suguru who still has girls throwing themselves at him, only for him to reject their advances before going to find you. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s all of a sudden too shy to ask or do anything the moment he’s in your dorm room. 
Hockey player! suguru who renames all your plushies against your pleas stating his new names are “too mean for them!”
Hockey player! suguru who’s so tense and awkward as you pick up the remote and start the movie. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s never felt serious about a girl until now. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s too afraid to wrap his arms around you even as the movie progresses. 
Hockey player! suguru whose face goes red when you lay your head on his shoulder and listens to you gush about the background lore for your favorite character. 
Hockey player! suguru who lets you convince him to stay the night, saying it's “too dangerous for him to walk home all alone at night” back to his dorm. ( It's not even 5 minutes away. ) 
Hockey player! Suguru who you convince to let you paint his nails. 
Hockey player! Suguru who ends up smearing your hard work on his nails! 
Hockey player! suguru who continues to entertain your late-night burst of energy, an hour later his makeup is done and his hair is in pigtails. 
Hockey player! suguru who watches you with pure admiration as you giggle while putting bows in his hair. 
Hockey player! suguru realized he likes you more than he thought. 
Hockey player! suguru who leans in for a kiss when you’re right in front of his face, only for you to pull away. 
Hockey player! suguru who tenses and removes himself from the situation, making his way to the bathroom. 
Hockey player! suguru who takes his hair down angrily, cursing himself out for thinking there was anything more between you two. 
Hockey player! suguru who hears a small knock on the door and a whispered “sugu’” before swinging the door open, beginning to excuse himself out of your dorm. 
Hockey player! suguru who flinches at the sensation of your soft skin grabbing his arm. 
Hockey player! suguru whose eyes widen as your lips gently touch his. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s embarrassed as you explain that you were just startled by the sudden action. 
NSFW below:
Hockey player! suguru who deepens the kiss, before pulling apart, watching as you leave towards the bed, patting the spot in front of you. 
Hockey player! suguru whose once-done nice lipstick is smudged across both his and your faces. 
Hockey player! suguru who soon has you sprawled out on the bed as he laps at your cunt. 
Hockey player! suguru who whines into your clit as you pull at his hair, he’s completely relentless, desperate to get you to finish. 
Hockey player! suguru who drinks your juices and continues to lick and suck even after you’ve finished, driving you to the brink of another orgasm before pulling away. 
Hockey player! suguru who looks up at you through long lashes and flushed cheeks, his head slowly nodding as he whips his mouth as you ask to suck him off. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s desperate to teach you how to suck him off & play with him, guiding your hand over his cock, praising your movements. 
Hockey player! suguru whose grip on your hair tightens as he comes down your throat. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s softening dick gets hard as he watches you swallow what he gave you. 
Hockey player! suguru who prioritizes your experience more than his own. 
Hockey player! suguru who loves when you beg for him to put it in :( 
Hockey player! suguru who takes his time with you, ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible. 
Hockey player! suguru who leaves love marks all over you, also allowing you to leave some on his neck. 
Hockey player! suguru who makes sure you cum before him, whimpering as you ask him to pull out. 
Hockey player! suguru who comes all over your bare chest, picking it up with his fingers and placing it on your tongue. 
Hockey player! suguru who has no idea about proper aftercare and asks you to teach him. 
Hockey player! suguru who enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair, falling asleep to the feeling after getting the two of you cleaned up. 
Hockey player! suguru who proudly wears your hickies on his neck, a silver chain with your initial hanging from it adorned on his neck the next day. 
Hockey player! suguru who looks for you every match, always finding you in the seats he saved for you, wearing his jersey. 
Hockey player! suguru who’s fallen head over heels for you. 
Hockey player! suguru who wants to fuck in the locker room. 
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HOOKED ON HER FLESH
cw: afab!reader, fingering, pussy job, penetrative sex, pet names used (pretty girl, baby, etc), suckin and fuckin in the bath, raw fucking but this is not real so practice safe sex my friends
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The click of the front door is dull, and Rintaro can feel the burn in his calves when he bends down to place his gym bag beside the few pairs of tossed shoes by the entryway.
If you were on the couch like he'd half expected you to be, you'd scold him for leaving it there knowing one of you always trips over it. But you're not.
It's late, almost 11 PM when he returns home from a long day of training. The apartment is dim and oddly still when he weakly calls out to address his presence. With still no answer, he makes his way down the dark hallway with nothing but the kitchen light illuminating the space.
The second place he checks is the bedroom.
Weirdly enough, you're not there either. But before he even gets the opportunity to worry, he spots an outline of light shining through the closed bathroom door in his peripheral.
Quietly entering the bathroom, he's not all that surprised to find you sponging in the water, eyes closed and hair carelessly clipped up.
You're not asleep—he can tell by your breathing. He notes the glass of red slightly sipped on as it balances on the back ledge of the toilet.
He leans against the door frame, admiring you while he can before you shy away and refuse to let him. It's somewhat muggy in the room from the steam, and he gathers that you've been marinating for a while based on the drops of sweat beading in your supple creases and cleavage.
When the nippy draft of the open door finally makes its way to you, you crack your eyes open and jump a bit at the unexpected figure in the doorway.
Your face cushions a bit when you realize it's him, "God, you scared me. When did you get home?"
"Just now," he placates, making his way over to kneel beside you at the edge of the tub. That singeing ache returns in his calves, but he doesn't seem to care when he's this close to you, counting the steam droplets adorning your cheeks and eyelashes.
You're heavy with sleep when you reach for him, "How was practice?"
He hums in acknowledgment, letting his thumb trace your jaw in a gentle touch.
"Nothin' special," he shakes his head before smiling a bit at your drowsy murmurs. "Tired, baby?"
You nod along against his hand, "A little, yeah."
Opening your eyes, you admire your lover; he's tired too, the subtle lines of worry and fatigue marking his handsome face. Your eyes flicker to his blunt bangs, damp and sticking to his forehead.
Your fingers find them easily, brushing them off of his eyebrows and causing him to crinkle his nose. "You already showered?"
"Yeah," it's his turn to close his eyes. "Took a quick one before I left. Figured it was easier."
You seem pleased with his answer as you relax further into the water. "Good, 'cause I really didn't wanna have to get out."
He shakes his head in amusement, fingertips gently caressing your eyebrows and lids when he asks, "Why're you even in here?"
"What do you mean?"
"You only take baths if you're like, stressed or something."
"Not really stressed," you breathe, though the sigh entwined in your words betrays your point, "just wanted to relax a bit. Feel like I've been a bit wound up these past few days."
Rintaro nods but bites his tongue. His mind filters through the handful of times you've been a bit snippy with him this week. When he forgot to take out the trash and you called him annoying. When his shower went on just a few minutes too long, leaving the hot water merely lukewarm and you cursing at him. Just this morning, when the two of you were buzzing around the kitchen preparing for your days—he used the last of the milk in his coffee and didn't write it down on the grocery list, resulting in a glare from you and a passive-aggressive nudge towards the notepad on the counter.
As if noting the gears turning in his head, you whisper above the sound of water gently sloshing beneath you as you readjust your legs over the side of the tub.
"I'm sorry I've been kind of a bitch."
Rintaro chuckles and it sounds like love. His tone is light and airy when he squeezes your hand in solidarity, "I like you a little bitchy."
You roll your eyes, though both of you know it's harmless, and a warming silence comfortably overtakes your tiny apartment bathroom.
Rintaro thinks he's subtle, and maybe he is to anyone who isn't you, but you know him, and you know that his tender touches trailing from your hand to your leg are filled with both love and something a bit more desperate.
"So," his hand slowly caresses your damp leg as it dangles outside of the water, "wound up, huh?"
A glare is sent his way but the smiling pulling at your lips encourages him.
"Can I help?" His thumb applies some pressure to your calf, rubbing slow circles to the tender muscle and ears perking up at your soft sighs.
"You don't have to, you're probably tired and—”
He interrupts your weak restraint with a rough whisper against your cold ankle, "I'm never too tired to make you cum, let's get that straight."
He hears you kiss your teeth as his vulgarity, "I'm just saying, I'm okay."
And Rintaro does what he does best, and doesn't take no for an answer.
"Well, what if I want to?" he purrs against your skin, "What about my needs?"
"Your needs of making me cum?" you scoff behind a smirk.
"Exactly."
Sitting up a bit to better see you, he prompts you to uncross your legs with a gentle pry of his hand. You obey and spread yourself against the front of the bath, heels against the sides of the cold ceramic as he slips a sluggish hand between your thighs.
He can feel the slick already forming submerged in the water as he teases an experimental finger through your folds. Taking his sweet time, he brings his thumb to brush against your untouched clit, and grins like a wolf when you whimper and jolt at the slight friction.
You hear Rintaro laugh through his nose. "Yeah, you're okay?" he smugly prompts.
You close your eyes at the feeling, too needy to care about his mocking, "Shut up."
You can't see his smirk but you know it's there all the same. He plays with you without any urgency, mindlessly enjoying rolling your nub between his pointer and thumb, greedily inhaling each and every one of your gasps and mewls.
Once he's pleased with his mess of you, he allows a fingertip to just barely dip inside of your heat. Painfully slow and deliberate, he lets it barely sink into you before it pulls itself out, repeating the movement slowly.
He's fucking with you openly, giving you a sinful taste of the feeling you're addicted to without any actual benefits of it. You know he wants you to break, and you can't even bring yourself to put up a fight with your dwindling restraint slipping through your pruney fingers.
With a prod of his finger that goes just slightly deeper than the rest, you whine in frustration and reach for his arm.
"Rin," your hand wraps around his flexed bicep, to both steady yourself and prompt him to do more.
He ignores your pleas, continuing to give you just enough to squirm and thrash at his repeated actions. He knows your lack of patience at his hand—if he hadn't made you so greedy, you'd just take what he gives you.
But Rintaro learned long ago that he's a weak man when it comes to you. He's always going to give you exactly what you want—he's just going to be annoying about it first.
He lets it continue for a bit longer before you finally whine and dig your nails into his bicep.
"Stop—fucking doing that…need—” your words falter into tiny little whimpers as he continues a steady pulse on your clit.
"Need?" his eyebrows raise in a delight that mimics the devil.
You go to close your legs in instinct, but Rintaro's free hand uses its palm to hold you open. The still water in the bath splashes against your movements as your chest heaves with a need that he's not even close to giving you.
Somewhere between mocking and comforting, he tuts and coos at your frustration. His fingers stay steady as he kisses your neck, licking the sweat mixed with citrus-scented salt from your relaxation.
He taunts, "Gotta use your words, pretty."
"Need you," crawls pathetically from your throat, "you asshole."
Rintaro smiles, baring fangs you're not one hundred percent sure are actually there or not. For once, he says nothing as he finally sinks a full finger into your eager cunt.
You gasp at the pressure and he follows suit, almost mimicking your hiccups and whimpers as if he too feels what you feel. With every exhale of yours, he's unashamed in inhaling the sweet sounds, trying to savor them by tasting them for his own.
One finger turns to two, and time doesn't exist as you're rocking against his palm and losing yourself between the splashing water and his mouth on your neck.
"Look at you," he presses kisses anywhere he can, "my pretty baby."
I'm—fuck," your legs try to jostle shut again but they're unsuccessful as Rintaro continues his pace.
"It's okay," he sweetly mocks your shaky attempts to reach your high. His teeth move to sink into the outside of your thigh when he tells you, "Just relax for me."
Feeling you clench around him in a manner that's far too familiar, he changes his movements in a way he knows gets you there every time. Curling his fingertips upwards and lingering a bit too long against that spongey ribbed spot inside of you, you nearly jump out of the water at the harsh sensation.
Suna laughs, holding you down as your nails sink into his wrist in an attempt to ground yourself.
He continues against your feeble tries, mentally checking all of the boxes for when he knows you're about to lose it. When you get to the babbling nonsense and begging for quite literally nothing stage, he decides it's time.
A gentle kiss prods against your temple, "Talk to me, pretty."
"Feels good—so fucking good, I—” Your back arches and flexes against the water, desperately trying to reach your approaching high.
"You gonna cum for me?" he breathes through a smile.
You can't speak, nodding furiously and mindlessly as you feel yourself reach your peak. The churning inside of you unravels like a wave, and you can feel your hips bucking themselves upwards without meaning to for the sake of release.
Your lover doesn't let up, rubbing and curling and cooing you through your high. You don't even hear him, can barely feel him anymore as he milks you for all he can before giving you a break and moving his loving touches to your legs and neck.
"Feelin' good?" he's out of breath from watching you perform for him.
Between how tired you were before, let alone how hard he'd just fucked you on his fingers, he expects you to be spent. He's undeniably hard—only human, after all—but with the way your eyes can barely stay open, he mentally plans to get you settled in bed before leaving himself quickly and joining you.
But he's never been more willing to be wrong when you whisper against his bicep, planting wet and messy kisses across his skin in an attempt (as if one was even needed) to persuade him.
He can feel you beam against his skin when you mewl and pant, "Think I need the real thing now."
"The real thing?" his voice octaves in a condescending sweetness.
You're pulling at his cloth-covered torso when you groan, "You know what I mean."
"That wasn't real? You left fucking crescents on my wrist—”
"Rin," you cut him off with a groan, looking up at him all teary and needy and so fucking pretty he thinks he could cry. "Please?"
You watch his chest inflate with a sharp inhale as his eyes rake over your malleable form. His tongue skims his canine when he chuckles and shakes his head.
"Fuck you."
He's undressed and on top of you in the water within seconds.
"Condom?" he heaves into your neck, practically swallowing you whole between breathy groans.
He feels you shake your head and he kisses his teeth in aggravation. "What'd I say about words, baby?"
"No," you nearly hiss, before following it up with a velvety, "just wanna feel you this time, please."
Rintaro groans into your chest and subconsciously bucks his hips against you, "Fuck, okay. Okay, baby."
He takes his time when lining himself up with you, letting his pink tip acquaint itself with your puffy folds like it's the first time. He feels a pull inside of him that egnites when he realizes, it's not the first time, and over his dead body will there ever be a last.
He watches beneath the water as his pre-cum smears itself all over your pussy, sticky and webbed as it dissolves under the water. He flicks himself across your clit, tapping heavily against you when you softly cry at the sensitivity. He lets out sounds of amusement at your feeble protests.
"Don't—” you hiccup as he runs his shaft between your folds, "—be a dick."
"Shut up," he quickly kisses your lips, "I got you—"
As he breathes, he unhurriedly sinks himself into you, relishing in the way you both inhale one another at the stretch. Breathing in one another's gasps and shivers, he lets himself ease in and out of you until he's completely bottomed out and pressing his weight onto your abdomen to hear you shiver.
It's all sweaty kisses and desperate licks as you meet his movements, pulling as he pushes and taking everything one another can offer. And it is everything—you'd never give anything less.
You can tell he's slowly losing his composure, but he does a good job of keeping up with his long and intentional strokes. He means to leave no inch of you untouched, wants you to remember the feeling every time he's away and you find your hand snaking its way between your legs.
"I love you," falls from your lips like the wine you neglected from the untouched glass that sits a few feet from you. And Rintaro swallows it greedily, tastes its rich red and white and pink before spewing it right back for you to keep as your own.
His thrusts become more sloppy and frantic as he feels himself reaching the brink of his climax. "I love you, shit—love you, I love you."
He comes in bursts of heat and desperation, and with a few more needy strokes and circles on your clit, you follow suit behind him. Spent and sticky with cramping limbs in your tiny tub, Rintaro coddles you through shaky whimpers and sore muscles.
"So fuckin' pretty," he breathes between kisses, to you or himself, he doesn't think he'll ever know the difference. "My baby."
Touches turn lazy and tender, and breathing is now slow and steady when Rintaro adjusts himself with a groan and sits upwards. He reaches for your unattended wine glass, taking a strong swig and raising his eyebrows in jest when you roll your eyes and laugh at him.
He then holds it to your lips, gently leaning your jaw back as you take a sip of your own. You swear that his eyes have stars in them, and while you don't know it, yours gape the same right back at him.
Sinking into the water on the opposite end of the cramped bathtub, he grabs your leg and hooks it upon his shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss to your ankle before letting his head loll to the side.
"This water's fucking freezing now," he mumbles, eyes closed.
But his spirits lift when he hears you giggle at his declaration, opening his eyes and smiling behind a scowl to catch you lazily tossing your head back in amusement.
"It was nice before you got in," you shrug, rubbing your ankle against his ear just to watch him whine at the motion, "so it must just be you."
Rintaro hums in faux agreement, turning to weakly gnaw on your calf before kissing the crescents indented from his front teeth.
"Keep it up and I'll keep your pruney ass right here all night."
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