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gorejo · 2 years
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𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 (𝐈𝐍) 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 - haikyuu edition pt. one - an anthology
≡ suna rintaro, sakusa kiyoomi, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tooru x f!reader
↳ strong and capable men, never falling short in physicality or drive, individually coming undone — unraveled and vulnerable to their inner tender lover — as they hold you in their arms. 
tw/cw: unedited. smut. explicit language. penetrative sex. squirting for hajime's. teasing. reader called: baby, princess, angel, babe, good girl.
✉ : these are unedited... sorry y'all haha but these can honestly stand as short individual drabbles... but it’s a pain in the ass to post one by one, so here’s a compilation so it’s easier for you to access, and easier for me to post. win win situation i must say ( ੭ ˙ᗜ˙ )੭. Also, part two will be up soon too!
here is the jujusu kaisen version | pt. two
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𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎
Pistoling his cock inside of you — fast and within rhythm — the slapping of his balls against your buttocks and the squelching of your pussy grasping tight onto his cock as he penetrated in and out of you filled the heated room. Where the gasping of haggard breaths — hot and humid — as he called out for you, “fucking god, YN…” and the cry of his name as he held you close to his sweaty frame, clawing at his back as your toes curled in pleasure. 
“R- Rintaro,” you moaned out, your face planted on his neck, limbs curled around his body, forcefully attaching yourself closer to him — to be one with him. 
The sweet kisses of his lips — sloppy and wet — made contact with your naked chest, your body slightly trembling from the stimulation of almost reaching your high as his fingers massaged your breasts. His dark hair stuck to your skin as he made his way down, curving his spine as he continued to press deeper inside, filling you up to the brim, “s-so full, Rin…” you called out. 
“Yea, you like that pretty,” he cooed before he firmly pressed his lips onto yours before making his way down your throat, your clavicles, running his tongue down your sternum before engulfing your nipple as his other hand played with your hardened bud, “you're so fucking pretty, you know that?” 
The room felt thick, hard to breathe as you gasped out his name, “R-Rin please!” running your fingers through his hair, pulling on his dark strands as he teasingly bit onto your nipple, looking up with his mouth latched onto your breasts, “please what, princess?”
Smirking as he increased the speed of his penetration, curving his hips upwards to push against your sweet spot, feet stationed just under his buttocks to give him a good grip on his repetitive movements, “you gotta tell me what you want?”
Grasping hold of your legs, pulling them up onto his shoulders, grunting and panting as his tongue swiftly glided past your ankles, kissing your lower legs as he looked at your frazzled state from above, “I don’t know what else to give you baby.” And with each powerful thrust, knocking the wind out of your lungs as you screamed out his name, breasts bouncing as your whole body moved forward with every slamming of his length into walls, “you already have my cock.”
And looking down at the entrance of your swollen pussy gripping onto his length whenever he ventured in and out, your folds brushing past his member, where a ring of white creamy substance bordered around his glistening cock, chuckling as he heaved in his breaths, chest pebbled with sweat, as he lightly pushed down on your lower stomach, “shit… can’t you feel me, baby? Fuck, it’s probably seven maybe eight inches deep.”
“Go deeper Rin… I’m almost there,” you alerted. 
And pulling his head back, groaning as he leaned out while holding onto your legs to keep his balance, this new position hitting your new spots that made your eyes roll back into your skull as his skin loudly slapped against yours. “Ah! R-right there baby, k-keep going!”
Increasing his speed, yet never forsaking to keep his tempo, with sweat dripping down his temple, where his once sharp observant eyes were now glazed and dark, watching you like a predator hunting his prey, growling as he lightly bit onto your ankle before landing a soft breathy kiss to your skin, “you’re fucking mine.”
“Harder… ‘m close!” you cried out, arms unknowingly covering your heated face as he continued to pistol his cock inside you. 
And without warning, Rintaro quickly changed his position. Immediately dropping your legs to grasp under your waist, pulling you into his hips as he curved your back inward, stomach bulging forward, continuously thrusting as your breasts rampantly bounced, arms uncovering your face as you tried to grip onto your sheets, the pillow, his arms — anything for leverage, “don’t cover your face,” he warned.
“R-Rin… s-slow down!” your words slurred out, your eyelids feeling heavy, and the familiar coil of your stomach causing your legs to shake, your arms to feel numb, and your head to feel light masked your reality.
“You’re close, cum for me again,” you heard his voice.
“Together,” you reached out for him.
And taking your hands, intertwining your fingers together as he placed them over your head as his lips made love with yours — saliva trickling down the edge of your lips, teeth clashing and tongues dancing. 
Tugging onto your lips with a trail of spit connecting you both, his greenish yellow eyes returned back to their sharp self as his orbs pierced into your fucked out gaze, licking straight up the base of your throat up to your chin, chuckling as he watched your helpless expressions unravel with each thrust, “Just know I’m not done with you even after you cum, princess. ”
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𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈
Your toes immediately curl, soft moans leaving your lips as you call longingly out his name, “Omi.”
Your hips immediately buck forward as his lips trailed down from your sternum to your tummy, and he catches you from below, large palms planted under your ass as he's kneeled before you. The soft curls of his hair traveled down with each open mouthed kiss as he ventured onto your body, your fingers combing through his locks — affirming he’s got your sweet spot through a slight tug on his roots. 
With his hand slowly massaging your joints, easing you in to mesh with his body, his softly calloused fingers almost teasing as he played with your nipples, as he kneaded your breasts and thighs, whispering softly, “shh… baby, relax,” whenever you would whine he was going too slow. 
Taking his time to admire, to gaze, to push his thumb across your skin as he studied your reactions — what makes you moan, what makes you whine, what makes you gulp down your thick saliva, what makes your nails drag along his skin, what makes you call out his name so tenderly, so eagerly, so desperately. 
And caging you in, with his arms wrapping around your hips, just around your thighs, settling himself down as his lips never forsook kissing your body. The soft sounds of his kisses, the soft blows of his breath that tickled your skin, enticed you even more as your wet pussy clenched onto empty air. 
Sakusa liked to go just around your core, starting from your inner thigh as he softly kissed closer in. He’ll occasionally hold your hand if you were squirming too much or if you needed the extra support — the knowledge that he was there, that he'll catch you if it was ever too much. Still, on most occasions, he’ll have his arms strapped around your legs, pushing through your moanings as you asked for more, carefully observing every fiber of your being, servicing you with all that he could.
“So soft,” Sakusa murmured into your skin, inhaling your scent as he dragged his tongue along your thigh, making his way closer to your pussy. He’ll blow onto your cunt, watching you mildly twitch from the sudden sensation, only to then properly spread your folds open before taking a firm lick from your base up to your clit, purposely flattening out his tongue to take in every crevice and groove of your labia, making sure his tongue was thoroughly coated with saliva so that nothing could hurt you. 
The warmth of his mouth and the tight knot of your stomach building up immediately makes you buck your hips forward into his mouth, pushing his head deeper into your core, back arching as you felt the tip of his tongue swirl around your hardened bud — teasingly entering in and out of your aching hole, circling along the pulsing rim — while your face flushed and blood raced to your ears. The beatings of your heart loudly boomed as it muted your senses, and the thumps of each contraction caused your limbs to pulse as you trembled in his reign, softly letting out, “Omi… I- I can’t…” 
And with his mouth shining with your viscous arousal, the remnants of his service and adoration, his usual clean and perfect facade crumbled with his curls frazzled and eyes glazed over in desire, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, settling himself into the crevice of your thighs as he positioned his cock directly into your entrance, cradling your vulnerable body as he cupped your face for a final kiss before he entered in… that's the moment when he’ll always say, seconds before he'll fully push in,
“You can angel… you can for me.”
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𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔
Planting you into the bed as he kneeled behind you, sitting on the back of your plush thighs as his hardened cock purposefully sat at the crevice of your buttocks, lowly chuckling at himself as he witnessed just how far he could reach inside of you, “ ‘m gonna go deeper.”
“What?” your voice clueless yet sultry and sweet, pulling him into your warmth as his hips started to slowly thrust forward, his cock brushing against the crevice of your mounds, “nothing princess, it’s nothing,” Oikawa chuckled as he bent low, his firm body caging you in as he reached for your cheek to kiss, “it’s nothing for you to worry about.”
Running his lips against the lining of your back, pecking soft kisses on your shoulders, as he slowly made his way down your scapula, your spine, kissing gently — teasingly grazing just above your skin — murmuring in between kisses as the padding of his fingers softly brushed against your sides, “so beautiful, fuck…”
Your feet brush forward, lightly hitting his sides and back, as you felt your core slowly tighten and increase in pressure with every dry thrust he made onto the surface of your ass. Taking hold of his hand stationed at your side, veiny where the tips of his fingers were red, it was moments like these that you realized just how big he was compared to you — moments where anything you did, his physical presence will always embrace you, cover you fully, make you whole. 
“Tooru,” you breathed out as you shimmied your ass up, purposely raising your hips to have him see the lining of your folds glisten with arousal, to see your ass puckered in front of him to enjoy, “fuck me, Tooru…”
“Aww how cute,” he cooed, his hot breath traveling against your skin, causing goosebumps to form at his lowly voice.
You suddenly felt the jagged movements of his hand giggling your buttocks, quickly splitting your mounds apart as he observed your puffy folds glisten and your hole throbbing, “fuckk… all ready and wet for me, Y/N chan?” he praised.
“Mhm,” you whined out, “hurry…”
Quickly palming his length, coating the head of his cock with his precum just before running his length against your folds. Closing your ass together to mimic the walls of your caverns, slowly thrusting in and out, his toned ass perfectly clenched, “so damn perfect,” Oikawa groaned out.
“Tooru, p-please… not that, I want your cock.”
“Where, tell me where you want it, baby.”
“I- inside, deep! — ”
And before you could count to the next second, before you could breathe in your next breath, before you could finish your statement and call out for your lover, you felt his lengthy cock pulsing inside of you, splitting you open as he groaned out, “fuck… so tight,” before falling on top of you, chest heaving to catch its breath.
Silently trying to get used to his length, his width, his slow penetrations hitting deep within your walls, where the tip of his head brushed just above your sweet spot, you felt Oikawa’s fingers slowly massage your back as he placed soft kisses against your shoulder and up your neck, purposefully whispering into your ear to not over stimulate you as he continued to kiss, “you okay angel… talk to me,” he worried. 
“Yea… you just scared me a bit,” you softly gasped out.
“Sorry,” he murmured into your skin, “I’ll go slow for a bit, okay?” he reassured as he placed a firm kiss on the back of your neck, his hand gliding against the curve of your ribs and onto your sides, grasping hold of your ankles as he pivoted himself so that his lower pelvis would hit right against your ass whenever he pushed in — motions slow and deep, full and throbbing within you. 
Gasping as his length penetrated deeper inside, his cock pulsing within your tight plump walls, his balls pushed against the base of your pussy, groaning into your neck as he tried to contain himself from slamming his hips into you, taking caution to keep his promise, “just know, I’m going all the way today.”
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𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄
“Haji!” you screamed out. Your arms about to give in, legs trembling as the juices of your wet cunt ran down your inner thigh, as you grit your teeth, feverishly closing your eyes as you tried to concentrate by counting his thrusts.
One
Two
Three
Fo — pounding his length into you, the thickness of his cock stretching you out fully as he pushed his palms against your ass, spreading your cheeks open as he watched himself go deeply in and out of you. 
“Concentrate, angel,” you heard his warning masked with a lowly chuckle, “don’t want you passing out again do we.” Hips thrusting into you, gripping onto the sheets with your face fallen onto the pillow, your cries muffled by the fabric of your comforter, “y-you’re in so deep! Your cock… s’ goodl!”
“Cute,” he groaned out, tongue running up your spin as his hands gripped onto your waists, “so fucking cute when you’re begging for my cock.”
Quickly grasping hold of your shoulders, pulling you up so that one hand locked your arms behind your back, slightly pulling you back as he fucked you with your knees anchored to the bed, while the other hand loosely gripped onto your neck while he penetrated from behind. 
“Haji, I- I can’t…” you gasped out, “I’m so tired…” 
Chuckling into your ear, his lips running against your neck, pulling your head back to land a kiss on your lips, tongue ferociously exploring your mouth as he let go of your arms to touch your stomach, and down to your pussy.
Desperately grasping onto his wrists so that you wouldn’t fall forward, moaning a second after each thrust, thighs shaking from the overload of stimulation as his fingers played with your clit.
“Ngh —” you let out as he lightly pinched your hardened bud, his two thick fingers quickly making circles against it as the squelching noise of your penetrated pussy and slapping of his heavy balls against your ass radiated the room, “you’re dripping princess,” he whispered into your ear, “you still can’t when you’re this wet?” 
Hip jerking onto your ass, where the tip of his head brushed against your most inner spot, thump thump thump, tensing up as you clenched onto his length, nails forming crescents into his skin, heat pooling in your lower stomach as a familiar feeling of your limit bursting rushed upon you.
Fuck.
“Let go, angel. I know you’re holding it in,” your boyfriend cooed, “it’s okay… just let go, I’ll clean you up, baby.”
Pushing you onto the bed, both bodies thumping against the mattress, his cock still penetrating deeply within as he wrapped his thick arm around your shoulders, skin loudly slapping against each other from the combined sweat and past orgasms with each thrust causing your ass to ripple from its force. 
Closely breathing into your ear, your senses hyperaware of your surrounding, sensitive as each touch felt like a burn onto your skin, slowly losing composure as a warm clear liquid squirted out of your pussy with each thrust, “be a good girl for me, and fucking cum.”
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© satorins™ — do not copy, plagiarize, repost, modify and/or translate my works.
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gorejo · 2 years
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𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒.
≡ s.rintarou x f!reader
↳ Rintarou has pretty hands. But it's undoubtedly the prettiest when they're stuffed inside your cunt.
tw/cw: smut. mdni. fingering. handjob. teasing. reader called pretty, my girl. unprotected sex.
✉ notes: hahah this is unedited but we go down hard with the raw vibes heh!! just something i hc of Rin having really pretty hands (๑•ᴗ•๑) !! I hope you enjoy !!
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Suna Rintaro’s hands are pretty.
His skin is soft, sculpted lean with his fingers slender and his joints perfectly thick. The lining of his bones protrudes nicely with his veins surfacing just above. With minimal rings around his index and pinky coupled with a thin bracelet that just danced around his wrists whenever he moved, it would be hard to say that such hands belonged to an athlete.
Rintaro keeps himself well groomed — cut his nails often, and applied lotion on the daily — never will there be dirt underneath his nails, and never will his palms feel too calloused that it prickled. His nailbeds were nice, with no dents on his nailplate nor did he have any ragged hang nails that he picked.
Rintaro grew up painting his sister’s nails whenever he was thrown into her tea doll parties at home. Wearing a too small of a dress on himself, crouching on a far too small of a chair, holding his sister’s smaller hands with his head donning a cheap bedazzled crown, quietly he’ll paint her nails, listening to her go wild in her imaginations with her dolls, enjoying the moment of purity as a young child.
And during the simple lazy moments in bed, he’ll examine your hand, kissing digit by digit, murmuring as he melted into the heat of your palm, “so pretty, next time let’s paint it red, it’ll look so nice…” just before falling asleep with his head placed at the plush of your chest, fingers still locked together.
And when he reaches out his hand to wrap it around with yours, especially when he leads and walks mildly in front, you can’t help but feel a flutter of butterflies reaching the depths of your stomach when you look down at your fingers nicely interlocked, his thumb softly grazing over your skin, making you feel uneasy yet safe — face feeling hot, heart palpitating, and hands sweating.
His fingers creeps softly from the ends of your shirt, gently grazing past your skin, almost tickling, yet soothing as he kissed your lips. Touching the curves of your body as his hands further ventured into your shirt, his fingers tapping against your waist while his thumb lazily scrolled through his socials as you laid on top of him.
But his hands were undoubtedly the prettiest when it was buried deep within your wet cunt, slowly stretching you out, lightly glistening in the moonlit room, sparkling with your cum dripping down past his wrists — adding finger by finger till he was pleased with how easily his fingers glide past your entrance. With his neck tie loosely hanging from his neck after a social event, his once groomed and proper facade crippling down to mere droplets of sweat and enticing nibbles against your naked bodies as the sweet fragrance of his cologne coated your bare skin.
With your hip bucking into his hands the moment he angled his fingers in just the right position to get your back arched and your cunt clenching in pleasure, where the other hand was placed flatly on your stomach to keep you from squirming away as he observed your pussy fluttering at his touch,
“Stop squirming baby, you can’t run away,” he’ll chuckle — voice predatory yet with tease.
Pulling onto his tie, with his shirt crumpled and open, meshing your puffy wet lips together as one, teeth clashing together as the sounds of muffled moans filled the room,
“You feel good baby?” Suna whispered as he spread open mouthed kissed along the lining of your jaw, his soft yet needy breaths causing a tighter knot to form in your core, “mhm.. So so good, more Rin…” you responded back.
“Missed you so fucking much, fucking wasted my time when I couldve been doing this,” pulling back to grasp hold of your exposed breasts, cupping from below as his whole hand mounded your fat, “missed these girls too almost came in my pants when you texted me,” Suna growled as he lightly bit your nipple, his hips grinded into yours allowing you to feel his prominent hardened bulge that was encased in his expensive slacks.
“B-be gentle, Rintaro!” you cried out, yet the increasing clench on his fingers told otherwise.
“Isn’t this what you wanted when you sent me a pic of your tits when I was at a public event?” His hot breath perspired against your skin, causing his hair to stick onto you as he trailed down your body making love to every inch of your frame.
“N-no… just wanted you home,” your hands clenched onto his hair, hips bucking forward as his fingers continuously penetrated in and out of your pussy, “just wanted you here with me, “ you moaned out.
With his fingers caving inside of your walls, searching for just the right places where your gushy walls caused your body to tremble as you called out his name, he’ll give you a second to catch your breath, cooing at how good you were as he gently released your grip on his wrist that painted his skin red from the unintentional hold you had while you begged for him to slow down.
“good girl so fucking wet.”
The curve of his lips pulling up, smirking as he stripped his shirt off his torso, uncaring to undo the last button where a carnal urge blinded his eyes the moment he saw you catching your breath, your thighs trembling, body shaking as he had full access to witnessing your naked glory — vulnerable and angelic — almost as if you were going to pass out, when he was just about to get started.
Covering your face at how embarrassed you were for being so wet — absolutely so needy for him the moment he stepped out of the apartment looking gorgeous and expensive, that you just had to send a naked picture of yourself in his collared shirt, squishing your breasts together as you laid innocently in bed.
Grunting as he hovered over you, his four fingers lightly slapping against your wet pussy, “ngh,” you moaned out as he rubbed his pretty fingers in circles, his palm concentrating and pushing on your hardened bud as the tips of his digits teased against your stretched hole.
“You like that huh?”
“Rin…” You whined, your nails trailing against his back, marking your territory as his.
“Tell me what you want, baby… you want me to fuck or eat you out,” kissing your temple as he sweetly then kissed your lips, teasingly pulling onto your flesh as he softly chuckled, “or we can do both.”
“fuck me…” you whispered into his shoulder.
“You want my cock? That’s what you want?” his voice relaxed, yet his erection said otherwise. And taking your smaller hands, kissing your palm as he looked into your eyes, his sharp gaze piercing into your soul as he waited for your approval, he led your hands down to his pants, unbuttoning them with his free hand and kicking his pants off as it landed on the floor with muffled thud and the clang of his belt, where the head of his erection was peeping out of his briefs, bringing your hand to cup his clothed cock, his eyes now soft and honest, “its yours.”
Your hands lightly shook as you palmed his clothed member, watching his hips slightly buck forward as you fondled his balls, slowly pulling down the strap of his briefs, you heard his lowly grunt as his cock was exposed to the heat of the room, his length hitting against his toned lower abdomen sent shivers sent up his spine as he looked down on you touching him.
Running small circles against the head of his penis, the small bud of precum pebbled at the tip as the padding of your thumb lightly massaged his frenulum.
"Remind me to paint your nails red next time, I want it shining against my cock whenever you give me oral," chuckling at himself as he pushed back his sweaty hair over his forehead.
Normally a man’s penis wouldn’t look pretty to you, just simply a muscle that’s been gorged with blood, but Rintaro’s was different.
Whether it be the hindsight of falling in love, or simply the erotic lust of wanting another person, Suna looked beautiful all around.
“Your cock is so pretty, Rin,” unknowingly licking your lips, coating them wet as you look at him from above, “I want it inside of me — ahhh fuck!”
Pulling his fingers upward, his length hitting your sweet spot, you let go of his cock in shock as your thighs rushed to close together but your efforts were immediately stopped when his hand pinned your thigh against your chest as he pushed his weight down to hold you still.
And removing his fingers, the room now sounding of only panting breaths lacking of the prior squelching noises of your cunt and his fingers meeting, he’ll raise his fingers up to his face, studying how his fingers glistened so sweetly along his digits, absolutely mesmerized at the viscous fluid that came out of you — sticky and clear, sweet and thick — as the pool of your cum dripped down his fingers and wrists, as it continuously flowed down his veinous arms.
“Look at me, YN,” he ordered as the tip of his thick cock ran up your lubricated folds.
And just like always Suna Rintaro looked absolutely godly — inhumane and utterly despicable to look so gorgeous.
Sucking on his fingers, his tongue running against his digits as he licked every inch of his hand to get your cum, as he looked straight into your eyes with a smirk on his face as his unintended hand played with your clit.
Trailing your sight down from his lewd face, to his naked chest covered with sweat as his stomach perfectly flexed waves with every longing breath, his finely knitted indent of a V of his flat pelvis coupled with his nicely trimmed pubic hair, his knees anchored into the bed as his cock moved up and down your labia — puffy and midly sore — with his fiery red tip peeping up whenever he pushed forward up your length, the veins of his cock beautifully lacing his length.
And with his empty hand to palm his member, and with a pop of his lips as he removed his pretty fingers, stripping every aspect of your high off as if it never existed. Hovering over your body, as he traced your puffy lips with his wet fingers — the faint smell of you filling your nostrils as he played with your lips —  soon closing the distance between you two with a slow, sloppy kiss.
He’ll ask with the softness to his voice but yet with eyes raging with pure lust, as he settled his needy tip right at your entrance.
“R-Rin w-wait — ”
“you taste so good… baby can you give me one more?” 
Your plea went unnoticed.
Groaning as your tight velvet walls encased him wholly, sparks of electricity running up his spine when the warmth of your insides almost caused him to see white. 
And gripping onto the sheets besides your face, using every inch of his strength to say sane, jaws clenched tight, brows furrowed, groaning into his words,
“Let me fuck it out of you this time, yea?”
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© satorins™ — do not copy, plagiarize, repost, modify and/or translate my works.
3K notes · View notes
gorejo · 2 years
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𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘
≡ suna rintaro x reader
↳ Rintaro’s finally come home. 
tw/cw: unedited. nothing much! just couple of curses and suggestive teasing
✉ : hope you all enjoy (( :
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“My ass is sore from sitting too long,” Rintaro grumbled over the phone, where the collar of his zipped puffer jacket covered almost half his face, his breath mildly huffing as he walked out towards baggage claims, hoping that he could process his next steps as fast as he could, and quickly catch a taxi to head back home to you.
Despite not being physically next to him, you still felt his breath tickle against the crook of your neck whenever he would complain when the flight was too long or that the food was bad, muttering under his breath how he couldn’t stretch out his legs and that his teammates snored too loudly, or that he couldn’t get a wink of sleep because you weren’t there, that his pillow just didn’t feel right in his arms, that he missed you — all of you.
“I’ll give it a kiss when I see you,” you teased, smiling at the sound of his comforting soft voice, missing him just as much.
“You better keep your word for it, babe… but, fyi, I haven’t touched you in a good month, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be the one to kiss and massage your body later tonight, no?” Rintaro mindlessly threw out.
“I’ve been working out Rin, I’m sure I can keep up with your endurance.”
“You sure? All I’ve been doing is train for the past month, so don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
Taking his voice an octave lower with a lowly chuckle, “Also, you’re always dead tired after the first round, no?”
“Whatever… you’re so annoying,” you grumbled, immediately hiding your face by the crevice of your arm as you felt your cheeks heat up at the thought of your intimate moments with him — passionate, strenuous, amorous yet carnal, but still soft and knowing.
Despite the weather being awfully chilly this morning, your heart felt warm.
Rintaro had been away to train for a month overseas during his offseason to condition and prep for his upcoming season. 
Yes, he made it his mission to call you every night. Surely, he texted you whenever he had the opening to update you about your day, or to just send you the typical text, ‘What are you doing?’ and ‘miss you, babe,’ occasionally throwing in thirst traps on his socials, just to get a rising out of you, only to delete it the moment he saw you view his story. 
Every night you fell asleep to his face on your screen — tired with cheeks softly sunken but jaws chiseled and torso toned — where the simple sounds of each other’s soft breathing became a sense of comfort during these past couple of weeks.
“But, I’m happy that you’re finally coming home… I didn’t think a month would feel so long,” you murmured as you played with the hem of your sweater, fiddling your cold fingers.  
“Yea? I missed you lots YN… a lot more than you know.” You heard him deeply exhale through his nose, soon followed by a soft chuckle as if he realized the gravity of his words.
“I missed you too, Rin… more than you’ll ever know, as well,” you sniffed in the cold morning air, holding your phone stable in between your shoulder and ear as you bundled yourself tightly in one of his sweaters that you specifically asked for him to leave — the one perfectly molded to his frame and embedded with his scent.
“You know my teammates would always ask about you whenever they caught me looking at my lock screen?” 
“You did? Damn what a simp… Wait! Oh god… is it that picture of me?” A puff of white smoke illuminated the air as you laughed at his confession, followed by a shock of embarrassment filling the pits of your stomach.
“Don’t act like you didn’t do the same, YN… and yea, that picture is actually my favorite, you looked really cute sleeping during facetime with your mouth open while slightly drooling.”
“Dude why couldn’t you show them a nice picture of me… now they’ll probably think I’m so weird,” you whined.
“I did show them, I always do…” he chuckled, “But dude can you believe they said I’m the lucky one? Obviously, I’m the better one between us.” Rintaro teased.
You missed him. You missed his teasing. You missed the way his face would crinkle in the morning when you tried to pry him off his grip, laughing when he tried to kiss as you jokingly pushed him away, softly whining, “you stink Rin,” only for you to always lose to his, “five more minutes, and you’re lying, I never stink” knowing full well that he wasn’t planning on letting you go, nor letting you win.
You missed the way he placed his chin on the top of your head as you prepared coffee in the morning, swaying back and forth with his hands in your shirt, face cuddled to the crook of your neck when he wanted to get even closer, his toned arms wrapped around your waist as you leaned against his naked torso, his soft lips trailing up your neck before he whispered, “you feeling it babe?”
“you need to get ready in ten minutes, rin... we can’t.”
“you underestimate me too much, baby,” his lips running to yours, his thick hands lightly grasping up your jaw, centering your face to his, “that’s more than enough time.”
You missed his light touches against the expanse of your skin and the way he ran his lips along your body. You missed the way he held you softly or when he pulled you into his arms as he kissed along the crevice of your neck and cheeks. You missed the way he made you feel secure, loved, and desired.
“Shut up, you're so annoying… by the way, when will you get home?”
“Hmm… maybe in an hour and a half? I didn’t book my taxi yet and fuck hold up, let me get my bag.” With a slight grunt to his voice as what you presumed was him picking up his luggage, your heart raced in expectation.
“Hello? Babe, you there?” 
“Mhm, I’m here. You got your bags?”
“Yea, just got them right now. Gonna head out now to catch a taxi. I’ll be home soon, so go back to sleep… its way too early for you to be awake right now,” softly chuckling, “I'll catch you in bed so don’t wait up for me.”
“I’m alright, I like hearing your voice. And plus, I’m excited to see you, so I can’t really sleep.”
You heard his luggage drag against the smooth waxy surface of the airport floor. He was close to the exit — a step closer to you.
“By the way, what are you wearing?”
“Uh… just my regular clothes? Why what’s up?”
“It’s really cold out right now, just wanted to make sure you were dressed appropriately for the weather,” you hummed.
“I’m aware of how cold it is…” taking a second to continue, “why are you being weird all of a sudden? you’re scaring me.”
“I’m not, just saying its cold out right now,” you smiled into the phone, slightly shivering, finding it cute at how he immediately found you suspicious.
“You’ll be out from exit A right?” Your heart pounded in anticipation, almost impossible to contain the adrenaline that pounded through your blood.
“Yea...?” His voice deep and questioning, his eyes probably looking back and forth, scanning the airport just to see if he missed any detail.
“I’ll see you soon then.” You smiled, your breath puffing out continuous fogs of white smoke, painting the chilly early morning a beautiful picture of a lover awaiting for their love to finally return back home.
Halt.
You heard the sound of his baggage running against the pebbled floor suddenly come to a stop.
“... what?” He breathed out, standing in front of the automated doors, where his breath now felt hot, cheeks heating up as his body increasingly started to feel warm within his puffer yet the contrast of the cold air mildly blowing against his face caused him to perspire and heart pump harshly to keep him warm as his body lightly shivered in his parka.
And he was looking straight at you — standing across the street bundled tightly in his sweater, bouncing on your toes to keep yourself warm.
You heard him release a deep exhale through the phone before taking his first step out into the cold to meet you, “what are you doing here?”
click clack
click clack 
the wheels of his luggage softly running on the line, the tempo of its sound increasing as his once quiet steps turned into longer strides, making his way over without caring what was near him.
Immediately jogging over to you, his duffle bag strapped securely around his chest, bouncing whenever he changed footing. He kept his phone against his ear, refusing to end the call, where the quiet puffs of white smoke trailed behind him.
“To pick up my boyfriend, what else?” You chimed back, shivering slightly when a breeze of cold air passed by.
“Your handsome boyfriend?”
“Ehh… that’s debatable,” you giggled.
“How long have you been waiting for?”
“Hmm maybe like thirty minutes?”
“Fuck, babe… its dead cold out right now, you could’ve caught —.”
“I know, I know… but your sweater’s warm, so I was okay! And you came out faster than I expected.” You cheekily smiled as he stood close, where his towering height, face filled with worry that you might've caught a cold loomed over his while he too also failed to suppress his smile.
“And plus, like I said... I really wanted to see you…” you spoke through the phone, eyes looking towards the ground as your feet played with the gravel of rocks below, suddenly shy that he was actually here, his shoes inches away from yours.
“yea? me too.”
And standing before you as he raised your chin up to look up at him, gently pulling you into his arms, opening up his jacket for you to nuzzle into his warmth as he placed his cheek on the top of your head, tightening his hold around your waist.
“Missed you,” you muttered taking in his scent.
Despite the cruel temperature of the weather, you didn’t feel cold. Surely, just moments before he held you in his arms, you were shivering as you bundled tightly into his sweater, doing whatever you could to stay warm. But now, either you were hallucinating from hypothermia… or, you genuinely didn’t feel cold because he was here — to block you from the harshness of the world like he always has.
“What a simp.” Rintaro copied your tone from prior.
“Hey!” You pinched his waist as he chuckled at your reaction, squeezing you even tighter in his arms.
And lifting up his hands to gently caress your cold cheeks with the warmth of his palms, softly brushing your skin with his thumb as he pulled you in for a kiss. Automatically closing your eyes in instinct, expecting that he’ll take the lead…
“You’re so down bad for me, admit it,” he teased as his lips loomed over yours, lighting biting the tip of your nose where his minty breath tickled your face.
And holding his wrists as you looked back up at him, pushing yourself up to finish the deed, planting your lips onto his with a slight moan reminiscing from his throat — a kiss slow and timely, warm and soft, gentle and knowing.
“So down bad that I'm willing to kiss your sore ass,” you muttered in between short kisses.
“Damn… got me a keeper,” he whispered as his gaze alternated between your warm lips and eyes.
Shaking your head with a smile, absorbing in his face — his pretty features that’s become more chiseled, his eyes ever so observant and knowing, the softness of his hair that you missed as you basked in his warmth, the scent of his skin as you brushed your nose against his body, the tender touches of his fingers as he softly ran the tips of his digits against your skin — you missed it all. 
He offered you a small peck on the lips before encasing your hands into his before he lead you both back to your car,
“Thank you for picking me up... Give me your keys, I’ll drive you must be tired.”
“Anything for my handsome boyfriend.” You squeezed his hands tightly, “And nope! I’ll be your chauffeur for today.”
Smirking as he glanced down at you, eyebrow lifted as he mumbled out with a hue of red on his cheeks, picking up his steps as he quickly lead you to the car
“... you better have your endurance on check, YN,” muttering as he looked forward, lightly gripping your hand, “I’m not planning on letting you go the moment we step into the apartment.”
Rintaro had finally come home — home to you.
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© satorins™ — do not copy, plagiarize, repost, modify and/or translate my works.
2K notes · View notes
gorejo · 2 years
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𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔?
≡ s.rintarou x f!reader
↳ If your boyfriend asked for a kiss through facetime would you accept or reject his advances? and what if he [redacted … ] ?
tw/cw: fluff. minor cursing. reader is called : girlfriend, my girl, baby, babe
✉ notes: this is a re-upload from my old blog (๑•ᴗ•๑) !! even if this is your second time reading, I hope you can still enjoy it again (( : 
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“Kiss me,” Rintarou bluntly asked, his voice weak as if all his energy has been stripped to his bare bones, yet his eyes still blazed with desire.
“YN… kiss me, I’m miserable. About to die almost.” He bugged again.
“Rin, I can’t. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re on facetime, do you want me to kiss you through the screen? And plus, you’re fine… you’re always overreacting,” you smiled back.
“Rude. And yes you can, just give me a kiss, come on” he countered, eyes sleepy and face relaxed, where a fine line of exhaustion lingered just underneath his eyes as he puckered his lips close to his camera lens for you to kiss.
“Oh my god… do your teammates know you’re this clingy?” You giggled, rejecting his advances for a virtual kiss as you quickly took a screenshot.
“…. don’t you fucking dare YN… and no, they will never know because I’m not clingy. This is love, and you just rejected my love.”
“You’re not the only one with a secret album full of pics, Rin,” shaking your head as you rolled your eyes in playful annoyance, “gonna make this my lock screen, and no, I did not reject your love… I just don’t want to kiss you through the phone screen… it’s so… cringe.”
“You think I’m cringe? Never in my life have I heard that I was cringe… The fuck? I heard sexy, cool, mysterious but never cringe.”
“Well, there’s always a first Rin. I promise I’ll give you as many kisses as you want when you come back, just hang tight for a bit more, okay?”
“Whatever,” Rin muttered while looking away from his camera, his screen suddenly going black with muffled movements.
“Ah fuck.” You heard his quiet cursing, his grunts mixed with muffled background noises.
“Rin, you there?” You questioned thinking that the reception was going bad, feeling a threat of sadness piling up, a sudden tug of loneliness that you’ve been doing so well harboring in as you held onto your breath. You gripped your phone a tad bit harder hoping you wouldn’t have to end the call too early. And it didn’t help that he wasn’t much present these past couple of days because of his supposed hell week at camp.
“Yea, still here,” his voice sounded as if he was on the move or had to pick something up, only to immediately show his face again, “just got occupied with something.”
Letting go of your breath you quietly responded back, “Ah, I see… okay… that’s good.”
“Baby…” noticing the sudden change in your voice, “I know you miss me, I can’t seem to understand why you can’t just give me a fucking kiss…” With one of his eyebrows quirked up, his lips slightly forming a smirk as he saw your shy expression, “it’s a win win for the both of us, no?”
“No, if I do this once then you’ll keep asking me.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Rin… are you serious?” Deadpanning at his oblivious response, “you ask me to take a selfie of myself at the most random times. And plus you’re always being dramatic if I don’t, saying you’ll die or whatever without it.”
“Mhm, so what?” Deadpanning as if he really didn’t understand, “It’s called love. I send you quite lovely pictures of myself, don’t I? It’s intimate, no?” His voice low and teasing, “Sexy I would rather say. I know lots of people that would want one for themselves.” His lips formed a lopsided handsome smile — the one that made your stomach churn, and your face to suddenly heat up in embarrassment.
“You’re so annoying…” You murmured under your breath.
“I know you saved them, pretty?” 
“Shut up, or I’ll end this call.”
“It’s cute when you get mad, you know?”
Without his usual asking for five more minutes of cuddling in bed that would turn into thirty minutes of more sleep, where the crook of your neck would be surrounded by an awfully clingy boyfriend and his steadfast breathing tickling your skin. His large feet trailing behind your smaller footsteps with his arms around your waists, his back craned as he followed your every move, your day felt empty — complete bare without him.
Without him being able to check in with his usual ‘miss yous,’ or ‘babe look at this’ or even his ever so often honest words of affection ‘I love you,’ you were sure that he was depleted of his energy when all he could do was spend a fraction of his time right before his curfew would end and just before you would start off your day.
Long distance was an absolute bitch.
Off season for Rintarou didn’t mean rest, it didn’t mean he would be granted more leisure time. It meant more training, it meant his body would be more sore, it meant more blood, sweat, and tears, it meant being away from you… Overall, off season meant it would be the worst couple of weeks or even months of his life, your life — an absolute hell.  
“How was practice today?” You asked, completely ignoring his question.
“Miserable.” His frank response was underlined with a hint of annoyance.
“Tired?” you asked the obvious.
“Yea, fucking exhausted. My body fucking hurts, can’t eat what I want, been up since the crack of dawn without any coffee, ran laps like a maniac, and even my own girlfriend won’t help me out, I’m doomed.”
“I love you though,” you responded back, slightly tilting your head as you tried to observe his moving background.
“I love you though,” he mimicked your voice.
“Rude, never mind, I hate you.”
“Wow, the world hates me, and you won’t give me a kiss, because you hate me too, damn… got my heart broken through facetime,” Rintarou muttered, his screen lagging as if he was outside, face closely zoomed in only in split moments were you able to catch his dark background.
“Are you outside?” You questioned, and you noticed his face freeze for a slight moment.
“Yea, heading back to my dorm, tryna sneak in some snacks.” 
“You’re not supposed to eat that, Rin… you’re gonna get in trouble again,” you corrected him, listening to his repeated steps make contact with the grainy cement.
“Shh… you’re being too loud, it’s hurting my ears, people are sleeping you know?” he joked as he tried to sway the conversation elsewhere, cocking his head as he focused on his screen, “is that my hoodie you’re wearing?”
“Whatever,” shaking your head, “and yes, I am.”
“Damn I thought I brought that one with me… but I guess some thief stole it from me, tch” shaking his head in disbelief.
“You love me,” you teased.
“You’re lucky that you’re cute.” He chuckled, his voice echoing through the line.
“Are you almost at your dorm?”
“Yea, in like a couple of minutes. Tryna to get some good sleep today,” his voice sounded hopeful as his steps came to a stop.
“How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know baby, you tell me,” his voice teasing.
“Wha —” cutting you off, “Hey, babe?” Rintarou quietly asked.
“Yes?” You answered back, your eyes opening up a tad bit wider.
“You sure you don’t want to give me a kiss?” His voice was soft as he asked you the same question again.
“Rin… I’ll give it to you when you come back.”
Breaking the teasing banter, he softly asked, “You miss me?”
“Mhm,” Your eyes started to sting as tears slowly filled your ducts, immediately biting the side of your lips as you tried to contain your tears from falling… once again in remembrance of how much you actually loved this man, your other half, your better half, “a lot actually.”
“That’s all I needed to hear…” he puffed out his breath, “Hey, baby it’s almost curfew for me, so I need to head back in soon…”
“Already?”
“Mhm, yea already,” Rintaro softly answered.
“Okay…” Your voice lacking its usual vibrancy, gently nodding as you accepted that this would be your fate for the next couple of days, “you’ll call tomorrow again?”
“Don’t I always?”
“True… just feels so empty without you here, you know?”
“Fuckkkk I mean… you can always give me a kiss if you love me so much?” his shoulders shrugging, “just a suggestion, you know?”
“Good bye Rin.”
“Cute,” chuckling as his eyes glistened in the dark, “I’ll see you soon, baby.”
Beep.
“Wait wha —” the call suddenly ended, immediately checking to see if it actually disconnected or if there was a glitch, only to be met with the lonesome reflection of your face.
Dropping onto your bed, the cold surface of your sheets encapsulating your legs, your room suddenly felt too big and too barren without your 6’3” giant lingering beside you, attaching himself to you like a, not so small, baby koala.
“Huh…” letting out a big breath, “see you soon?”
Checking your calendar to recount the days that he was scheduled to come back home, “there’s still 9 more days left…”
Groaning at the realization that you would have to suffer through this misery for a little over a week, “Jerk, asking for kisses and shit,” grabbing hold of his pillow as you snuggled into it, your face planted into the plush as you took in his faint lingering scent, letting one tear trickle down your cheek, “but ending the call like that?”
Muttering into the pillow in annoyance, “I’m not going to give him anything even if he begs.”
“So annoy —” Knock. Knock.
Whipping your head up at the sudden sound, reaching for your phone as you quickly checked the time — too early for anyone to be knocking at your door at 6:43 am.
Swiftly making your way to the door, quietly stepping closer in as you looked through your peephole.
You gasped out, hastily opening up your door, “No way…”
Donning on a pair of his sweats and sweater, with the strap of his duffle bag wrapped securely around his sturdy chest, his hands in his pockets with half his face covered with a mask while the other half was covered by his hat. And despite being covered up from head to toe, you knew at the glint in his greenish yellow orbs who he was.
how could you mistake him for any other man?
“Rin? H- How are earth are you here?”
Immediately coming forth, shortening the distance between you both as he pulled down his mask to unveil his thin face and chiseled jaw, his upright nose, and his blushing cheeks, “before you get mad,” his hands reaching out to you, slightly trembling from either the morning chill or his nervousness, “come here,” his cold palms sending shivers up your spine, “it’s cold, and I’m fucking tired,” his soft lips trailing up your neck to both of your cheeks as he cupped your face, “and I missed my baby.”
“How… How are you here?” you asked again.
“Begged my ass off,” he muttered in between small kisses.
“What?” You tried pushing him away, only to fail as his arms tightly wrapped around you, “I was good at practice, ran extra laps, trained even harder for this, not sure if you can tell,” his soft chuckle tickled the valley of your neck as his lips ran past your skin, “but I lost weight from eating healthy, almost pulled a muscle or two to get here, so tell me I did a good job YN… and welcome me home, yea?”
It was hard to resist him. You missed him. You missed everything about him. You missed his scent. You missed the way he held you so perfectly. You missed waking up to his clingy self — almost impossible to shrug his heavy body off. You missed the way he brushed his fingers against the apples of your cheeks, as he looked endearingly into your eyes. You even missed the way you both would bicker and argue, only to end up forgiving each other through love.
“You have the key, you could’ve just opened the door,” you softly responded back with your face burrowed into his chest, your fingers gripping onto his sweater as everything felt surreal.
Noticing your anxious tendency, his hands wrapped around yours to prompt you to let go, that it’s okay, “Mhm, I know,” as he pulled your arms up to wrap them around his neck, “but it’s not romantic if I open up and barge in, no?” his large hands pulling you closer to his body — one stationed at your waist while the other caressed your heated face, “you probably would’ve beat the shit out of me thinking I was a burglar or something.”
“Yea, I would’ve hit you harder knowing it’s you, just because you deserve it,” lightly grumbling as you melted into his touch.
“You missed me?” His voice was close, his tone personal as he scanned your face and basked in your touch.
“no,” your eyes trailing down his face, stopping at his slender lips as his tongue slightly peaked out to wet his dry lips.
“you sure? I’m the best, no?” his smirk making your head fall empty as if you lost all control of your body, his gaze hypnotizing you into him.
“you’re actually the worst,” pushing yourself up on your tippy toes.
Planting a soft kiss on your forehead, chuckling as he gently massaged your ear lobe as his hand trailed down to the back of your neck, his lips teasingly close to yours, his minty breath tickling your skin, “so is it still cringe if I asked for a kiss now?”
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© satorins™ — do not copy, plagiarize, repost, modify and/or translate my works.
3K notes · View notes
gorejo · 2 years
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𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘
≡ miya osamu x reader
↳ you think he hasn’t figured you out, rather he thinks he’s got you almost figured out. but one things for sure, is that... he is in fact crazy for you. 
tw/cw: nothing !! just fluffy lovely ‘samu and food ˃ᴗ˂ 
✉ : this is a re-edit !! i changed somethings about this fic from before heh but i love this man. I truly believe he'll be such an acts of service type of lover and he'll love sooooo well sighhh but i hope you enjoy !!
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“Babe, you sure don’t want anything? ‘m gonna place in my order right now.” 
Leaning against the ledge of the door, looking casual and comfortable, with nothing but a loose fitting shirt that still outlined his toned chests with his arms crossed with a pair of gray sweats, despite the comfortable leisure Osamu still looked good — perfect, exquisite, charming, handsome.
Though he would never understand, nor will he ever see it for himself, why your eyes would scan his body for a couple seconds before giving him an answer.
Why your hands would linger around his waists, where the soft padding of your fingers would teasingly graze inside his shirt, just at the waistband, whenever he donned on these simple gray sweats.
“Yer drooling princess,” lowly chuckling as he shook his head with a grin, “what do you want?” he questioned again. 
“Hmm…” rubbing your chin, giving it some thought to appease your waiting boyfriend.
“Yea, just let me know, I’ll order.”
 “you.” 
“I-...” letting out a sigh, “YN, hurry.”
“I don't know why you would think I’m joking,” you teased whilst crawling over to your boyfriend, softly grunting as your knees planted into the mattress. “You, I want you,” emphasizing while making your way over, your shorts softly crawling up your thighs, pooling at your hips, showing off a plump of fat teasing at your ass and despite knowing his buttons were being pushed, you still pushed… 
“... you’re so annoying,” Osamu grumbled under his breath, yet his chest leaned closer into you.
“I would like a large portion of you right now,” you stated with a hint of a tease in your voice as you firmly locked gazes with your boyfriend. 
“I’m not joking, YN…” softly sighing as he pulled your shorts down, his calloused fingers accidentally brushing against the warmth of your skin, soft mutters leaving his lips unattainable to you. 
And lowly groaning as your fingers held onto the string of his waistband, pulling closer to your smaller frame as your palm glid past his toned abdomen, causing him to softly growl as he quickly grabbed your wrists to stop your teasing, looking straight into your innocent eyes as you whisped your lashes, “do you want anything or not?”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, tugging his face inches close to yours, lips brushing against each other, you felt his hands immediately station at your waist, the padding of his fingers softly gripping onto your bare skin, “Why would I want anything else when my boyfriend’s been looking like a total snack?” you purred.
Slowly inching one of your hands down his back, down to his waists only to grope one of his firm cheeks, causing your boyfriend to unintentionally flinch at your flirty aggression. 
“You’re a tease, you know that?” Osamu growled as he pushed his face further into yours, only for you to lean back and dodge his attempt in actually matching lips with yours. 
“Then don’t be so sexy?” You cocked back, softly cupping his face in your hands and planting a kiss on his forehead, to his thickly defined eyebrows, to his beautiful set of mildly hooded eyes, to the tip of his nose, and eventually to the place he’s been craving for the most, his lips. 
Smiling in between kisses but not sacrificing the fervor and passion behind the movements of his lips with yours — the knowing of each other in between the chasm of still the unknowing — Osamu smirked as he gave his last kiss before brushing the padding of his thumb against yours, cutting the thin line of saliva connecting you both, 
“I’m not going to share, so don't get mad when I tell you no,” he brushed his lips against your forehead, planting a soft kiss. 
“Yea yea whatever,” you brushed him off.
….
You and Osamu weren’t necessarily the type to go out for a date, both genuinely appreciating the intimacy and closeness that comes with having a leisure date at home. It was more often than not that you both would find yourself entangled in the bedsheets during the soft hues of the morning, watching a movie with a pizza or icecream in hand as you rounded down your day, doing facemasks together while he painted your nails on a normal friday evening, or him making a meal as you helped him prep every sundays.
If there was one word that could define his love, a mere adjective that could measly contain what it means to be loved by Miya Osamu would be sacrificial — without thought, without hesitance, simply embedding into his bones, that was his love. 
Truly he adored, yes he splendored you with words of affirmation, covering you in his love as he gifted you with small tokens of his heart to the grand gestures he displayed on anniversaries. But in all knowing, Miya Osamu was most sacrificial. 
And today, today was movie night. 
Setting up the movie as he sat on the carpeted floor in front of the coffee table, with your arms around his waist, latching onto him like a koala with your cheeks squished against his firm back, your fingers softly playing with the crevice of fat on his stomach as he slouched forward, you inhaled a strong measure of his scent, his fragrance coating inside your nostrils as you further sank into this comfort. 
Home, Osamu smelled like home. 
The smell of sweetness that brought you excitement yet meshed with the comfort of your heart slowly beating. 
The smell of rest — the type of rest where you can fall asleep and wake up feeling actually rejuvenated, energerized, and complete. 
The smell of rest where nothing seems to be in your way, dare manage to cross your path, simply knowing that you were safe. 
The smell that’s been deeply ingrained into your brain, the scent that comes with a euphoria of emotions and thoughts of knowing the small glimmers of love as you searched its depths for what it means to continually love, and love well.
And when he wasn’t drenched in sweat — albeit still fragrant and lovely, and mindfully sexy — after his workout or when he was coming back from work, Osamu’s scent was a mixture of a faint hue of shampoo, tenderly mixed in with the fragrance of his light cologne and his body wash. A smell you’ve grown used to over the years of being with him. A familiar smell that you now can’t live without… a smell that eases your anxious bone, yet still tenses up your core — for you to feel safe, seen, and … loved. 
“You’re a pervert,” Osamu hummed as he looked straight ahead while picking out a movie, voiced unfazed as he repeatedly clicked on the remote button, where the palm of his other hand purely and mindlessly massaged your legs, humming softly as he made his way through the list of recommended movies. 
Snuggling even deeper into his frame, tightening your grip onto his waist, scooting closer into his back as your legs wrapped around his front, as you brushed your nose against the soft fabric of his shirt, feeling the indents and textures of his muscular physique,
“I’m not… you just smell so good Samu, it’s your fault,” you murmured.
“Yea, sure… pervert,” chuckling as his palms softly massaged your legs, taking a short glance back at you, before refocusing to pick a movie. 
…. 
Around thirty minutes into the movie, both settled into the couch as your legs were wrapped around his body, his fingers tapping against the plush of your thighs over his stomach, the other arm resting behind the back end of the couch with his thighs split open, feet planted to the ground. And sitting comfortably with your head laid on his chest, fingers playing with the string of his sweats, hearing the subtle beats of his heart, you heard a ring on your doorbell.
“It’s probably mine, I’ll go get it,” softly gripping on your thigh for you to move, lowly chuckling, “baby, I’ll be back soon…”
“I’ll give you one minute.”
Leaving with a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead, he whispered, “You underestimate me,” gently pulling on your cheeks, “I’ll be back in less than that.”
Tightly bundling yourself with a blanket, feeling unmotivated to continue watching without the feeling of his deep breathing, and the small vibrations of his chest when he chuckled at a scene or when he whispered short ‘I love yous’ as he mindlessly showered your forehead with gentle kisses, pulling you even closer to his chest, cradling you in to his body. 
Osamu spoiled you rotten. 
Because to you, to the bone, and to his core, Osamu was love. He showed love through his action, and he mirrored love through his words. He was the one that pivoted the way for you to understand that it didn’t take much to actually love. And he made it absolutely clear that in no way or form should you be treated less than what you deserved. 
You wanted more of him, more of his little snorts that at first caught you off guard but now sound loveable to your ears. 
Moments when he scrunches his eyes when he laughs a bit too hard. Or when he pulls you in, gazing deep into your eyes as his face shows nothing but peace — a channel to his heart — swaying you back and forth in silence as he simply holds you in his arms. 
You already missed him. 
Twenty nine
Thirty
Thirty one seconds
And hearing the footsteps of his heavy bare feet, thumping as it hit the tiles of the cold floor, you knew he was coming back to you.
Thirty two
Thirty three seconds
And plopping onto the floor as he shimmied to a place of comfort right in front of you, just close enough so that you could tend your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as he happily ate just like always. 
In thirty four seconds, he was back.
“How’d I do on time babe,” he cheekily asked.
“You failed, you took too long.”
“Yea?” Turning back to softly run his hands against your thighs, “‘m sorry,” placing a kiss to your knee cap, “I’ll do better next time," he muttered before turning away with a loose smile on his face, Osamu stationed his plate and unwrapped his meal. 
“What did I miss?” he murmured while alternating his gaze from preparing his food and looking at the screen.
“I don’t know,” you muttered out, the aroma of your boyfriend’s food causing your mouth to salivate, “I didn’t pay attention,” you gulped down. 
He was just about to start eating, looking so excited to indulge, just so ready to pick up a spoonful of his rice to happily chow down for the next couple of seconds thereafter…but you didn’t mean to — especially when you get a whiff of his food...well, you never purposely mean to. 
You regretted not getting your own. 
You always regretted not getting your own. 
The moment you got a sniff of the savory fragrance of his meal as he passed by, the moment he opened the container and the whiff of heat spewed out with the droplets of hot perspiration on the sides, the moment he took a bite without even asking if you cared for some…  so you waited just because… he should just know. 
You knew you were being somewhat manipulative, but he’s been through this with you way too many times for him to not know. 
He should know… if he loved you, then he should know, you thought.
Totally forgetting about him asking if you wanted your own plate not even an hour before, and with Osamu seemingly unaware or in what you believed as him deliberately choosing to be blissfully ignorant, you nudge him a bit with your foot to get his attention. 
“Yea?” Osamu mumbled with cheeks full.
Yea? Mouth full of food, eyes innocent as he chewed, mouth jammed packed — a habit of his he’s countered since growing up fighting against his brother for the last piece — that his cheeks bulged from the content, his muffled voice ringing through your head like an annoying little echo telling you he was right, and in fact that you were wrong to say no, the guilt running deep inside your brain making your eyes twitch in anger.
‘Yea’ was all your foolish, insensitive, ignorant boyfriend had to say. 
So you nudged his side again, now with a more aggressive approach.
You also knew you were being unfair, especially since he asked if you wanted anything, and it was you who thought teasing him would be more fun than giving him a proper answer. You had no one else to blame, yet the victim of your impending fury as you watched him salvage his meal as he happily enjoyed the movie was none other than Osamu.
But, he should know.
Hearing you huff and sigh, spewing out curses under your breath as you glared at his peaceful state, being deliberately loud to get his attention, and taking a sip of his water to clear out the contents in his mouth, he turned around to look at you.
Osamu already knew what’s been causing your distress, he knew it the moment you decided to be a tease.
He knew it the moment he heard your small grunts, and he heard every sliver of sweet curses you spewed from your pretty mouth.
It’s not that he played ignorant on purpose, all he wants is for you to beg a little and admit that you were wrong. It’s never his intent to ridicule you or ignore you, never in his mind to strip you from what you want — rather he would commit his all to give you everything. But if you were going to play dirty, he wasn’t going to miss out on the chance to do the same. He’s gone through this too many times with his brother, having the same DNA as his heinous twin, Osamu wasn't afraid of getting dirty — Osamu was no man to lose, nor did he understand the concept of losing.
But for you, things started to change. 
So looking at you with one of his eyebrows raised, a look you knew that he knew, you gave him a little pout as your brows furrowed deep into your forehead, quietly muttering, “I hate you.” 
Did you mean it? Hell no. 
But did your stomach? Yes, most likely so. 
Seeing that you weren’t going to let go of your pride, but unable to mask the smirk that threatened to impose on his lips, he raised his arms as he signaled you over with his chin for you to settle in between his legs. 
For Osamu its not that he’ll lose for any given purpose, hell he’ll fight tooth and nail if it was any other person, its that he simply chose to lose, and most willingly so, just like the many other times he put you before himself. Because to him, that was love.   
Hoping that he would be merciful to share his food with you, despite knowing it wouldn’t fulfill his hunger if he shared, you still quickly fell into his warm presence, getting ready to ask the usual, ‘one bite, please Samu?’ as you snuggled your back against his chest, ending the story with him sharing, him losing to you. 
But before you could even ask, your boyfriend cut you off.
“Nope. ‘m not sharing YN… I already told ya,” with his chin on your shoulder, using his arms to wrap around your frame to get access to his utensils. 
“And if I clearly remember, you were the one that said no,” and taking a bite of his food, twirling his spoon, “and said something like that I was the snack?” gulping down and taking a whisk of his water, “so here, you said you wanted me, no?”
“I hate you, you're being mean.” You glared back while pinching his thigh.
“You should know —” and before you could finish your sentence, you felt his tender yet calloused hand softly grasp your jaw, moving your face to the side as his lips met contact with your cheeks.
“I’m joking, I do know, babe… you’ll kill me if I didn’t know,” he stated while littering soft kisses, lips slowly racing to your neck, mixed in with the gentle breaths of his chuckle as he felt you slightly ease into his embrace, “Look inside the bag.” 
“Huh?” you questioned, peering to the side to see something within the plastic. 
“Ya still hate me or what?”
And... there you were happy as ever with a bit of rice sticking to the side of your inflated cheeks filled to the brim with food just like your boyfriend’s — except it was your usual dish, with sides different from his. You sat in front of the coffee table with your boyfriend close behind with his arms wrapped around you as he reached over for his food, enjoying the separate plate that he ordered just for you. 
He already knew you would say no, he knew you would regret saying no, and he knew that you would get mad at him if he didn’t share even though he clearly asked if you wanted any.
To be fairly honest, at first, your tendencies confused the hell out of him. He would ponder in the shower, or during his break at work wondering what he did wrong. He would question what he did to fuck things up, and self reflect on areas that he could better himself in for you. He would hesitantly ask his friends — Atsumu when absolutely desperate — only to end up with one conclusion, that you were crazy. 
But now, he knows… he’s got you almost figured out. 
You weren’t crazy, just a bit stubborn. The type of stubbornness that confused him, that made him a little frustrated at first, but now is simply nothing but cute as you bickered at him with the little attitude that you gave him, chuckling whenever you would counter and threat, 
“‘Samu you want to fight? I’m sure I can beat you,” you would confidently threaten whenever you were in the wrong, and didn’t want to say sorry.
“Yer cute,” he’ll respond as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your frame, “we can, if you can come out of this,” he’ll threaten back with a chuckle as he tightens his grip when he feels you thrash in his arms, only for you to silently mutter a couple seconds after in defeat, “‘m sorry… ”
Yes you stressed him out at times but you never failed to leave a smile on his face at the end of it all.
Was he a masochist? He wouldn’t like to think so… but if it came to you, he would gladly bear it because to him… that was love.
So there you were, unable to notice your boyfriend’s good merits as he watched you laugh while enjoying your dish, reaching over to wipe the remnant of rice left on your lips with his softly padded thumb with a smile etched on his face. 
Osamu never once regretted his decision to pursue you. Sure, dating was difficult. Loving someone imperfect was that much more challenging, but it was never a regret. 
It was through events like these that made him desperately desire and yearn for a domestic life with you, where he felt the need in his core and the electricity running through his body as he thought of life completely with you. To have a family if you would allow, maybe have a dog or two he wouldn't mind, to grow old together as he dedicated himself in loving you increasingly more as each day passed. To watch your hair turn gray, to witness your plump skin start to wrinkle and beautifully crease at your eyes, to age in grace — together. 
To be able to see, to be the one that makes you smile, for him to be the one that reaches over to kiss you good morning, and be the last one to tell you goodnight, that’s when he… remembers, ah, he’s just waiting for the perfect time to pop the question, that you would hopefully be merciful to his honest heart and accept his request because, in his conclusion, he is in fact truly crazy about you.
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1K notes · View notes
gorejo · 2 years
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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒
≡ miya osamu x f!reader
↳ Taunting him every night in his dreams since the day he's first met you — idly coming into his shop ten minutes before closing every day for the past couple of weeks. Where nothing seems to be the solution of curing his blatant lust as his body simply craves for you — hoping and dreaming of something more from someone not much more than a stranger. So he does what's best in attempt to lessen his sexual desires, only to find out his temporary get away would snowball into something greater.
tw/cw: smut. masturbation. morning wood. explicit language.
✉ : hello!! i hope you enjoy! this was inspired by a shit post that I made on my old blog about osamu that I turned into something longer (( : it was actually my first time that I felt a bit hot while writing this, so... i hope yall can feel the heat with me ! again, it's not edited so i hope you can read through the mistakes. maybe one day i'll get around to editing them... but for now, nahhhhh
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Another day, another morning waking up to the sound of his wretched morning alarm, the one that Atsumu got him for a house warming gift years ago, groaning as he pushed his face into his pillow, grumbling as his morning hair sprayed out of his head, “fuck, ‘m so tired.”
Osamu mentally notes to punch Atsumu the next time he sees him for gifting him such an obnoxious clock, mumbling half asleep as he tried to recall what day it actually was, "is it day 19," groaning as he pulled his sweats down a bit, "no... it's gotta be longer than that, fucking shit."
Grunting as he pulled himself off his bed, stretching his sore body as he walked out of his room, scratching his lower stomach, toned with a layer of fat that accessorized his naked torso, as his feet trudged against the wooden floor.
Osamu always had a warm body. Since he was young, he and his brother would always sleep completely bare in the summer, but during the winter, he opted to at least don on a pair of gray sweats that loosely sat on his hips with boxers underneath but no top. 
Mindlessly touching his mildly flexed abdomen, brushing against his finely lined happy trail that traveled down to the dent on his pelvis down to his groin, Osamu felt suffocated. 
So by instinct, and without any thought, his mind still full of sleep, he shimmied his sweats down to create more room for his lower limbs to breathe. 
But to no avail, he still felt suffocated.
And making his way to his bathroom, eyes blurry and hair a frazzled mess, still touching his stomach as he looked at himself in the mirror, his reflection seemed to mock his apparent form.
“Shit,” Osamu groaned upon realization.
There standing in its glory was his morning wood — unsurprising he thought.
For any person with a male anatomy, it wouldn’t be deemed as surprising or even abnormal for their penis to be erect in the morning. It’s natural, a way of life, some would say. 
But for Osamu, it was a little different. 
Osamu usually never woke up annoyed. He would spend his mornings with a quick workout, wash up, gulp down a protein shake before heading out to his shop. And rarely would he wake up with blood gushed in his penis, even if he did, it normally went away after a cold shower without having to act on it.
Mornings were easy.
Mornings were easy up until a couple weeks prior.
"Fuck," cocking his head to one side, hissing in frustration, "it's been twenty one days."
twenty one days of waking up to an erection.
twenty one days of torture.
It wasn’t the erection that was the problem. Hell, if he woke up with morning wood every single day, he wouldn’t mind. He’ll simply shake it off knowing it was simply a spinal reflex that cycles during a person’s REM sleep, causing blood to pool in their penis — normal, that’s fucking normal.
But this, this wasn't.
It was the fact that he knows the exact reason as to why he woke up with a hardened cock, obnoxiously growing bigger within seconds as he slowly palmed himself over his thick sweats, his frustrated breaths hitching as he furrowed his brows,
“Fuckk…” he pushed against his bulge, “‘s not enough.”
And turning the shower head as he stripped himself from his clothes, his sweats pooling at his ankles, Osamu looked at his reflection once more as his thick hands stroked his cock, the head of his penis already pebbled with a glint of precum as he played with his puffy slit with his callously padded finger, stimulating himself of pleasure yet enticed with shame as he watched himself masturbate.
His breaths become hefty as his chests heaved for air in the smoke filled room. The fog slowly covered the mirror in front of him as the water behind him blared hot. And making a tight circle with his fingers, mimicking a certain ring of muscle that he deliciously dreamt about last night… and every fucking night since he’s met you, Osamu fisted himself imagining what it would be like to fuck you, to have you in his arms, to touch you, to kiss you, to have one chance of entering inside and feel your goddamn perfect walls squishing his cock.
Osamu's mind wonders — no, he lets his mind wander for more.
Was he a fucking pervert, to be masturbating to a total stranger?Well, not a complete stranger… more of a loyal customer? He thought. 
At least he knew your name.
“Fuck… YN…” Osamu longingly moaned out, as his canines lightly bit his lips, tasting a hue of his blood on his tongue.
Would you feel the same like how it was in his dreams? Soft, malleable, plushy.
How warm would you be when he’s tucked inside? Would he be able to mesh in perfectly, fit into every crevice of your insides just like how he dreamt of?
Would your cunt be wet the moment he kissed you? Folds dripping of arousal as he licked your clit and played with your tits — god, those tits looked so fucking good. 
Would you still call out his name, moaning, crying out ‘Samu! More more more!’ What would you look like when he first enters? will your toes curl and breaths hitch? would you whisper into his ear as he rutted inside, filling you till the depth, asking for more... telling him he's all you've ever wanted?
Would you cling onto him as much as he clings onto the mere thought of you?
And soon the mirror completely perspired with droplets of water, unable to see his reflection in the mirror, Osamu stepped into the shower.
With one arm placed on the wall as the hot water harshly fell onto his head, the droplets of water fastidiously coating his already heated body, yet his right hand never left his cock. 
Quickly grabbing a bar of soap, coating his hand with the faux lubricant to immediately stroke his cock. Every damned morning since you started to come over to his shop at exactly ten minutes before closing, having him wait all fucking day till he got to see a glimpse of your pretty face, knowing smile, and contagious laughs for ten fucking minutes.
Gritting in between his haggard breaths, Osamu bitterly lets out, "can you stay a little more?" his nostrils blaring as he tried to catch his breath, "a-at least I wouldn't feel so shitty if you gave me more time."
It wasn’t like he was a pubescent boy raging of hormones, nor did he have the right to be putting you in such an objectified position — fuck, he didn’t even know you like that. He’s probably just a restaurant owner that you happened to frequent because you "craved his handmade onigiri's" jokingly laughing as you watched him make your food, "and to see his handsome face.”
Something you probably just said to be nice.
But this… this was just wrong, yet every morning he’s woken up bricked up and horny — twenty one days to be exact since you've been lurking in his wild dreams.
Maybe it was time to see his urologist, or maybe he should see a psychiatrist, but for now… all that ranged through his head as he stroked his cock through his fists were your soft giggles and knowing looks you gave as you waited for you orders, listening to him briefly talk about his day when you invitingly asked him, “Miya-san, how was your day today?”
It was odd, but with you, it felt oddly right. Being able to talk for those ten minutes about anything — freely and willingly, albeit with the threatening feeling of his heart about to burst out of his chest, and his inability to look you in the eyes when he would package your order. But aside from that, he was drawn to you with each passing day — his heart could feel it, and surely his dick could too.
Carding his hand through his wet locks, exposing his forehead and furrowed brows as he slightly opened his mouth to a slight ‘O.’ Osamu chased after his high, using every fiber of his being and mind to recall his dream. A dream of you sucking on his cock, with a trickle of drool stemming from the corner of your lips. A dream where you fondled his balls, and licked up his length. A dream where you took him all, gagging as your soft tongue padded his length whenever he pushed deeper down your throat. And he’ll do you the favor back, as he splits open your thighs, running the tip of his cock against your wet puffy folds, the warmth of your insides making him fall completely blank as he pushed himself inside of you.
A dream where he would rightfully make love with you. A universe where he could freely call you his — have all of you as he called you “mine.”
And everytime the dream would tragically end, just when he was about to cum, just when he was about to lead you to your climax and his thereafter, were the sounds of his annoying alarm, blaring obnoxiously loud, waking him up exactly when you would moan out and whisper his name, “Miya-san, i lov—” 
“Say it, dammit,” he growled through clenched teeth, furiously stroking his cock, causing the tip of his head to sting from the friction, “fucking say it, YN.”
The knot in his stomach was tightening, building up in tension as the fire in his body felt as if entire flames were being thrown over him, the electricity drilling through his veins as he longed to hear your name being called in his dreams.
Pressing through, as he felt his climax shortly coming, thrusting his hips into his tight fist as he watched the tip of fiery head bulge out of his clenched hand, imagining just how far he could hit the deepest part of your caverns, and just how warm and plush it would feel tightly wrapping around his length. 
Imagining your tits — god, your fucking tits bouncing with every thrust he made. 
Imagining your ass ripple whenever he would pistol his cock inside you, his balls clashing into the base of your wet pussy, where the slapping of wet skin fueled his drive.
Imagining the sting on his back when your nails would claw down his spine, gripping onto his clenched ass as he drilled himself inches inside of you.
Hallucinating your moans, hearing you call out his name through it all as his fingers gripped against your skin, pushing his heavy body down to be even closer to you, stripping the oxygen in your lungs . To witness you unravel, become entirely undone within his control, to lather under his reign as he watched your submiss into your high.
He wishes he could witness it all, even if it was a silly dream, he so longed to feel you on his finger tips, to graze his lips against the canvas of your body, to hold you close to feel the warmth of your skin...
To lay naked and tired, limbs entangled under the wet sheets, hearing each other's rapid heartbeats just for a little moment, just before he’ll clean you off and set up the new sheets he’s prepared. 
To crawl into bed, and wake up with you in his arms.
To cook you a proper dinner, maybe fuck you on his kitchen counter as you wore his apron. Maybe even cook you something for late night snack for all the energy he expended out of you.
To dare think of a life of domesticity with an almost stranger — a stranger that haunted his dreams, making him feel entirely insane.
"YN..." he draws out, "m-more give me more!"
And it sets him off the edge, where the pile of his stored erection would shoot out of his swollen slit, his cock pulsing in his hand as he thrusted forward, his precious white seeds — viscous and strong — shooting to cover his shower walls only to be cleansed thereafter — but his sins weren't. Heavily groaning as he harshly inhaled his breaths, chest heaving with stomach flexed with the smaller splurts of his cum coating his hands.
“Fuck… finally,” he let out, washing his slimy hands with the running hot water, “I should really get myself checked out,” Osamu murmured before quickly getting ready for the day. 
….
5:52 pm, the time read. Usually you would trickle in a little earlier, apologizing numerous times that you couldn’t get work off earlier, and he would always respond, “that’s fine, I’m glad you made it over safely.”
Maybe today you didn’t want your usual cravings.
Maybe you already got dinner.
Maybe something happened while you were on your way over? Should he go out and check? No… that’ll be crossing the line. 
Or maybe, you somehow found out about —
Jingle.
With the sound of the bells, the beats of his heart immediately started to thump louder than before, ears perking up as Osamu immediately looked to the door. 
“Ah! I’m sorry I’m late, Miya-San…” huffing your breaths, looking as if you ran over.
‘Cute’ Osamu thought.
“There was a bit of traffic on the way, so I was a little late… sorry if I kept you waiting,” you muttered out, while taking off your coat to expose your sculpted breasts underneath your blouse. 
“Not a problem,” Osamu gulped immediately, looking away, “uhh YN-san, sit for a bit…” thanking the gods for the stand in front of him covering his growing erection, “I’ll get your order ready,” Osamu stated as he quickly donned his apron and washed his hands.
“Thank you,” you calmly responded back, slowly catching your breath as you watched him silently make your meal.
“So how was your day, Miya-San?” you hummed out the usual question, “I was so nervous I wouldn’t be able to see you,” you confessed with a soft giggle.
“It was the same as usual…” 
‘I came thinking of you again this morning, fucking hell I dream about you every damned day, and the lunatic that I am look forward to seeing you every minute.’
… “I wouldve kept the store open, just in case you would come through later,” he confessed, "I got a little worried."
“I see… you’re always too good to me, Miya-san,” giggling in your seat as you looked up at him — his arms were strong, toned with veins bulging from his forearms.
And checking him out, like you would subtly do every night, scanning from his thin waist wrapped around by his black apron, his black shirt tightly fitting his chest and on his arms but a little loose on his stomach. To his shoulders, broad and neck lean, where the short stems of his hair peaked out from the bottom of his cap as he concentrated on your order. His thick fingers sculpting the rice, moving majestically and with precise skill… his every movement with definition and purpose... wondering just how skilled he was his fingers… how he would mound your breasts... your ass.... would you have to teach him? or... would he already know your sweet spots? and what can he do with his mouth? his pretty lips always managed and plump, would he tell you sweet nothings like he usually would —
"YN-san?" Osamu questioned, his eyes worriedly looking at you for a brief moment before falling back down.
“Ah... sorry," softly smiling, "hopefully it wasn’t too busy today?” you asked, shaking any lewd thoughts as you clenched your thighs together, feeling a pool of your warm erection gathering in your panties. 
“Just the usual,” he smiled. The type of smile that would lightly crinkle the sides of his eyes, and cause his jaws to look sharp and defined, where the light chuckle of his deep voice would loom over your stimulated body, priming you for wanting more.
“I heard you have a lot of fangirls,” you teased, leaning against the edge with your hand on your cheeks, feeling butterflies in your stomach when you caught his slight blush.
“Ah… not really,” he murmured, packaging up your order, making sure there was enough for you to take for lunch the next day and share with your coworkers, “you’re probably my biggest fan.”
“Really?" chiming at the statement, "mission complete then,” you teased, “that’s been my secret mission since the beginning Miya-san,” taking the bagged food, knowingly grazing your fingers past his, teasingly pushing once more, “to infiltrate your mind, you know?”
“Well… looks like you got me,” the man confessed, looking down to cover his face, helping you put on your coat, where the slight hue of your sweet perfume unknowingly pulled him closer in.
'I want to touch her... I want her'
Where the slight touch of your arm that he accidentally managed to graze when he helped you with your coat, and the slight crevice of your breast exposed at the valley rang through his head and sight. And the mocking clicks of your heels making small steps to the door, reminding him once again of the torture he’ll feel when you’re gone.
“Miya-san,” you called out just before stepping out, the door bells chiming, where the cold winter breeze fanned into the warm dimly lit restaurant, “might want to take care of your lips next time, it seems like it would've hurt.”
“Ah… I’ll be mindful, thank you,” Osamu responded, brushing the back of his palm against his lips, feeling a slight sting as he pulled down his hat to cover his heated face as he recalled the morning of, “come again YN, next time I’ll —”
“Maybe next time I can give it a kiss to make it better?” you responded back with a smile, planting a piece of paper at the front register on your way out, “or I can buy you some ointment if you’ll give me a call,” softly chuckling as you closed the door.
Letting out a sigh, feeling honestly barren the moment you left, Osamu unwrapped his apron and took off his cap. Taking a brief moment to lock the front doors before heading over to the counter to see what you left, unwrapping the paper as he muttered out,
"call me, I'll buy you dinner for all the freebies you gave me! This is my number..."
And looking down, coming to terms with his erection bulging out of his pants, rock solid and pulsing in his briefs, feeling suffocated in his own skin as he feels his breaths start to hitch and the knot in his stomach starting to tighten.
Osamu reads your last line before groaning into his fist and unzipping his pants, pulling his shirt up to his teeth to expose his flexed stomach,
“sweet dreams Miya-san.”
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© satorins™ — do not copy, plagiarize, repost, modify and/or translate my works.
2K notes · View notes
gorejo · 2 years
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𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
≡ sakusa kiyoomi x reader
↳ what would it take for the world’s most private man to show his beloved treasure to his once irrelevant world? Simple — a pure and willing heart that only knows of one at the tender hour of 11:53 pm.
tw/cw: none!! just straight fluff
✉ : just a little drabble of Omi being the best (๑•ᴗ•๑) !!
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Sakusa Kiyoomi has always been private with his life. Whether it be answering superficial questions about his day to day as an athlete, to the simplest questions of his fans asking what he used for his cologne, Sakusa Kiyoomi kept his answers to a minimum — giving no more than a couple of words, a sentence if lucky.
And despite his larger than average frame, the paparazzi would never be able to get a full picture of him. Always dressed in a darker set of clothes — a black hoodie paired with dark jeans or slacks — a mask that hid half of his face while the other half was completely covered by his baseball hat or hoodie. Sakusa made it his mission to keep his life outside the athletic world to a certain degree of privacy because that was the only sense of control he seemed to be able to grasp in such a loud and intrusive world — an irrelevant world.
He looked rather bored and nonchalant during public events, but from under the table, he would be anxiously fiddling his fingers. And Sakusa never went out of his way to garner attention for himself like some of his extroverted teammates, but never was he purposefully rude like how some antics would label him as — just a bit more nervous than most. 
Sakusa never seemed to feel good about himself after answering so bluntly. He wonders, going as far as to search videos about public speaking, or practicing what he’s learned on himself in his closet mirror, if he should be more lax like Atsumu, go more in depth in his answers like Hinata, be more inviting while he spoke like Bokuto... but he simply couldn't.
Grumbling to himself at how long the event was going, constantly looking at his Rolex Daytona to count down the mere minutes — seconds almost — till he was allowed to go home, till he would be able to undress out of his suffocating tie and painful shoes, till he would be able to — 
“You’re gonna burn a hole through your watch Omi Omi,” a certain blonde teased, interrupting his train of thought.
“I got 56 minutes left,” the man mumbled under his mask, shaking his leg under the table.
And noticing the uncomfortable burden weighing on his teammates shoulder, Atsumu responded with a small knowing smile, “relax yeah? You’ll be home in no time, we’ll make sure of it.”
To Kiyoomi, it was 56 minutes too long.
But in the rare moments he chose to share, Sakusa posted little updates through his socials, teasing with pictures that curated a mysterious atmosphere about him, opening a tad bit of himself before he would go completely offline for the next couple of months until his PR team would beg for him to post, baiting him to at least do it for his fans.
So would it be crazy to say, Sakusa Kiyoomi was the type of man that would have four pictures on his public Instagram and he’ll be the type to post once every blue moon? Posts with no captions and edits but simply a raw form of message entailing a meaning behind the picture itself. A picture of a beautiful scenic background that he passed through for each morning jog, another of a memorable moment in his volleyball career as he played for Japan’s national team, and the third of some random aesthetic picture that documented his highly appraised elegant style. Sakusa Kiyoomi was truly a mystery that even his most loyal fans couldn’t decipher.
But when he posted his fourth, with no questions asked, with no publicists begging for him to stay relevant, simply done on his own willful accord at 11:53 pm, a picture where he specifically and deliberately posted in such a manner — blurry, even filtered through an edit of a certain mysterious person, that held the honor of having a simple caption, ‘my everything,’ it’s easy to say the internet went into havoc seeing such a move from him. To potentially venture into the private life of the Sakusa Kiyoomi  — the one that always strayed far from opening up about his private life, the one that’s made it absolutely clear to not ask about anything personal.
Yet, he still shared, simply because he wanted to. 
But little do such people know, that in the pictures he’s posted within the years of having his socials he’s been, well, secretly telling the world an indirect message — you. 
You were there for every step of his victories, through thick and thin, awaiting with a pretty smile and a warm embrace to give. 
You were the one to selflessly catch him through his downfalls with open arms, always ready to carry him through his failures.
You were the one that taught him about the simple pleasures of life such as going for a midnight icecream run to your local fast food chain, to sleeping in during random days of the week — something he would've never done nor thought of doing before he’s met you. 
You felt like the fresh breath of air he’ll inhale on the first mornings of spring.
You were the anchor through his turbulent storms.
And it was you that he wanted to wake up to and be a recipient of your sleepy good mornings, and you to be the one to hear his last goodbyes before the dawning of a new day as he held you close in his arms. 
Sakusa Kiyoomi, the one that truly despised letting people into his life, couldn’t resist his desire to finally show you off to the world… because you, you were the exception that defied his all. 
So with a nervous hand and a proud heart, he posts a rather hazy photo of you sleeping. A picture of you cuddled in his frame, as he took a snapshot from above while he kissed your foreheads together. A memory for him, but an absolute bomb for many, yet a moment overall of him nonchalantly showing he was in love. 
Even Sakusa believes, that surely no other could have such a reign over his fragile heart than you, making him be someone out of his character yet feel valid to be so.
And at that moment he posts, Kiyoomi slowly scoots his body lower to tightly wrap his long arms around your shoulders as he nervously burrows his heated cheeks into the delicate valley of your neck, murmuring his truth, feeling safe as he softly inhaled your natural scent,
“you are surely my everything, my love.”
And he hoped that his message, his vow of love, would be heard in your dreams.
But, Sakusa Kiyoomi wouldn’t be the man the world knew, timid and shy, if he didn’t turn off the comments the moment he saw his fans respond, “WHO IS THAT?” to “I’m so jealous… to be loved by our omi”… but today… today he chose not to.
Because despite as selfish as he was, he wanted you to be his one and only, untainted by the opinions of an irrelevant world; he simply wanted you to stay as his first love, his beloved partner… a deity so merciful to have brought him into another world, a dimension far greater than what he’s known of before you, unintentionally making him want to show glimpses of who he truly was to the world without him even knowing.
And today, Sakusa Kiyoomi chose to be honest.
So when he leaves his comments open, his once irrelevant world becomes fairly relevant — for the private Sakusa willingly shared his most treasured secret. 
Therefore, in lieu of such news, his followers collectively shocked at his unforeseen action couldn’t help but actively ponder, “who is this person that managed to change our stoic omi??! omg !! 😳” 
But unlike the many times, he’s been asked about the private details of his life, dodging questions left and right to hide the intimate parts about himself, this time Sakusa Kiyoomi welcomes these questions in joy. Responding with, again, as simple as he could be, but now with a welcoming smile laced on his face as he’s cuddled next to a warm you, a response not far from his actual self, yet the most he’s ever shared
‘that’s a secret. 🙂’
and closing his phone, lightly tossing it to the other side of the bed, for once Sakusa felt good about his short answer.
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