#osamu x reader smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pin-k-ink · 5 months ago

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NO ROOM FOR DOUBT ⋆✦⋆ miya osamu

synopsis ➸ marriage isn’t supposed to feel this empty, but osamu’s starting to think you’re slipping through his fingers. he doesn’t mean to accuse you of anything, but when your coworker’s name leaves your lips one too many times, he snaps. you barely get a word in before he’s on you—angry, desperate, and determined to remind you who you belong to.

tags ➸ jealousy, insecurities, hurt/comfort, mild angst, profanity, mild dom/sub dynamics, degràdation, nípple play, dírty talking, breéding kínk, creampíe, rough séx, hand job, oral séx, praise kìnk, facial, unprotécted sèx

wc ➸ 11k

The bedroom was thick with tension as Osamu closed the book he'd been pretending to read for the past hour. Across the room, you remained diligently hunched over your desk - brow furrowed, pen scratching furiously, completely absorbed in your never-ending work. Just like every other night lately.

"Ya plannin' on joinin' me over here anytime soon?" Osamu finally broke the silence, unable to stomach being ignored and alone a moment longer. "Gettin' kinda cold and lonely in this big bed all by myself."

He made sure to inject just the right amount of heated suggestion into his tone. The kind that used to have you instantly abandoning your tasks to satisfy the mutual craving you couldn't resist giving in to. But just like every other attempt at intimacy lately, you didn't even look up from your paperwork.

"I can't, Osamu. This proposal is really important and I've got to have it ready to present first thing in the morning," you replied distractedly, hiding behind that same worn-out excuse as always. "It's going to be another couple hours at least before I can call it a night."

A muscle ticked in Osamu's chiseled jaw as his patience began eroding. This was just a never-ending cycle - you constantly burying yourself in work until you were too drained for anything other than collapsing into an exhausted, dreamless sleep far away from his arms. Meanwhile, he lay awake most nights, body thrumming with unbearable arousal and need as his mind tormented him with memories of how ravenous you'd once been for each other.

Osamu could vividly recall the exact curve of your arched spine as you'd kneel over him, all nude feminine softness and aching desperation. How your tongue would trail hot, openmouthed kisses from his navel to the drooling tip of his iron length, never taking your lidded eyes off his as you hollowed those perfect lips around his girth. The way you'd moan shamelessly around his cock when he fisted those silky tresses, using that divine warmth and pressure as the first of many selfish indulgences for the night.

He could picture the exact flare of your hips as you rode him cowgirl, riding his cock until he thought he'd slip into unconsciousness from the sheer unbearable pleasure. Those lush breasts would sway and jiggle with each erotic roll of your body, nipples pebbled with rapture as your slick walls massaged and milked every maddening inch of his thickness. Osamu always had to fight with everything in him not to lose control and start jackhammering up into that molten, velvet glove squeezing him to oblivion.

And even in the afterglow of coating your convulsing insides with his thick seed, their passion never dimmed. There was always another round of foreplay to indulge - his calloused palms branding the plush silk of your ass cheeks as he rutted against you from behind. Or his lips dragging over the aching throbbing of your clit as you shrieked through full-body shudders of bliss, actively ruining his face with your cream.

Osamu didn't care what degrading, filthy acts you subjected him to when your inhibitions were lowered. All he craved was wringing pleasure from your trembling form until you were both mindless, depraved wrecks overdosing on endorphins and the scent of your mingled passion.

But lately, his hunger went completely unslaked. You were always shutting him out, too preoccupied with your work to even touch or be touched. That blazing passion you'd once indulged so spontaneously and shamelessly had dimmed to bitter embers of resentment and stifling, endless tension.

Which was what led to Osamu's newest, most insidious torment - the poisonous creep of envy and anxiety whenever you mentioned that coworker constantly singing your praises.

Osamu tried not to let the jealousy show, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to bury those insecure feelings. You talked about your coworker constantly - this brilliant, ambitious "guy" you collaborated so closely with on major projects. Osamu couldn't help wondering if the intense admiration in your voice when you praised this man's professionalism and impressive work ethic hid something more.

After all, everyone in your family had been vehemently against you marrying someone like Osamu when you first got together. They'd wanted you to find a wealthy businessman, someone who could properly provide the lavish lifestyle they felt you deserved. But you had fallen even more deeply in love with Osamu's steadfast determination to make your chosen partnership work, despite your relatives' objections.

You'd stood firm in your commitment to the humble yet passionate chef who stole your heart. But now, years into your marriage, Osamu could feel the insidious tendril of doubt and anxiety taking root. Were you regretting your decision? Did some part of you regret not listening to your family and choosing stability and status over being saddled with someone like him?

He tried smothering those poisonous thoughts underneath the soul-deep love and adoration he had for you, convincing himself it was just irrational possessiveness. But the more you spoke about this mysterious coworker, the more Osamu's sense of inadequacy flared. This man seemingly had everything he lacked - money, ambition, societal respect. No wonder you were burying yourself in work to spend more time around someone who exemplified the qualities your family had pushed you to seek in a partner.

Osamu missed the way your relationship used to be before this gulf opened between you - back when he could surprise you at your office for a spontaneous lunch or quickie in the bathroom. He grinned reminiscently at the memories of having you bent over the desk, documents and office supplies clattering to the floor as he hungrily explored your body. You'd beg for him not to stop, to take you harder and deeper even as your coworkers milled about just outside none the wiser.

But those impromptu encounters had all but stopped over the past couple of months. Now when Osamu tried to initiate anything intimate, even at home in the privacy of your bedroom, you gently but dismissively waved him off - too tired, too preoccupied with work, or simply "not in the mood" thanks to stress. Each repeated rejection was like another dagger to his heart and his increasingly fragile ego.

So Osamu did his best to bury the hurt and the aching need you weren't fulfilling. He told himself it was just a rut your marriage was going through, that the scorching passion would inevitably rekindle once this busy period passed. You loved him - you'd sacrificed so much to be with him against your family's wishes, after all.

And yet...Osamu couldn't fully silence the nagging doubts constantly echoing in the back of his mind every time you mentioned that mysterious coworker's name. He couldn't ignore the way his chest clenched painfully whenever you praised the other man's intelligence, ambition, and impressive accomplishments - all things Osamu knew he could never provide you no matter how successful his onigiri business became.

It made him wonder if some part of you did regret the life you'd chosen, no matter how deeply you still loved him. Osamu couldn't help feeling increasingly like he wasn't enough of a man to truly satisfy the brilliant woman he'd married and adored for so many years. Like a legitimate future with someone like your admired coworker was the path you deserved, even if you didn't realize it yet yourself.

So Osamu simply withdrew more into himself, burying his hurt and hunger for your intimacy and unconsciously giving you even more space to invest yourself in work - and perhaps in another man's company without even realizing it. All because some traitorous part of his heart couldn't help wondering if he'd forever be seen as the wrong choice as a husband, no matter how selflessly he loved you.

A couple more hours dragged by in tense silence, the only sound being the occasional scratch of your pen against paper as you continued working diligently at your desk. Osamu's eyes kept flicking over to you, noticing the way the lamplight accentuated the furrow in your brow and the purse of your lips as you remained fully immersed in the proposal.

He felt the knot of frustration and desire tightening in his gut with each passing minute you diligently ignored him and the intimacy he was silently begging for. This couldn't go on any longer - he needed to feel that physical connection with you again before the ache drove him mad.

"Enough, sweetheart," Osamu stated firmly, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his voice as impatience finally won out. "Put the work down and get your gorgeous ass over here already. I'm done waitin'."

You finally looked up at him, startled by his uncharacteristically stern tone. For a beat, Osamu thought you might protest and dig your heels in about finishing the proposal. But something in his expression must have conveyed the simmering need, as you hesitated before giving a small nod.

With palpable reluctance, you set your pen aside and began gathering up the strewn paperwork into some semblance of order. Osamu watched every agonizing movement hungrily, from the way you licked your lips to the distracting sway of your hips as you pushed away from the desk at last.

He drank in every inch of you as you padded slowly toward the bed, unable to tear his eyes away. You looked disheveled yet impossibly beautiful in that oversized shirt - the one he loved seeing you lounge around in because of how easily it could slip off those soft curves with just a bit of impatient tugging.

Osamu's arousal spiked painfully as you finally settled onto the mattress beside him, close enough now that he could smell the lingering hint of your shampoo and feel the warmth radiating off your body. He didn't even try to mask the pure, wanton hunger in his gaze as it raked over your form shamelessly.

Unable to resist a moment longer, he surged forward and captured your lips in a searing, needful kiss. You made a muffled sound of surprise against his mouth but didn't pull away as his tongue boldly sought entrance. Osamu growled at the first teasing taste of you, fingers already clutching at your waist as if to pull you fully against him.

But you went rigid in his embrace, keeping a deliberate slice of distance between your bodies. When you broke the heated kiss, you turned your face away with a soft, "Not tonight, Osamu...I'm way too tired from working."

He fought not to let the biting sting of rejection show on his face, swallowing hard against it. "I've missed ya, darlin'...missed this," Osamu murmured, letting the rough pad of his thumb trace the plump swell of your lower lip in a silent plea. "Isn't there any part of ya that's missed me too?"

You hesitated, gaze skittering guiltily across his features. Something flickered in the depths of your eyes - that same dimmed spark of desire he saw more and more rarely these days. Then it was gone again, shuttered behind bone-deep weariness and excuses.

"I'm sorry, I know it's been a while..." you began, genuine regret lacing your tone. "But this proposal is really important, and I've got to be rested enough to present it to the board in the morning. I promise, after this is all over, we can..."

The unfinished reassurance trailed off into tense silence as you averted your gaze, unable or unwilling to even voice a promise of making time for intimacy again. Osamu swallowed hard, pulse thundering with mingled frustration and humiliated rejection.

So this was what it had come to - empty platitudes and obligatory excuses to avoid being touched by the husband who had once been unable to keep his hands off you. Somehow your flourishing career and singular focus on work had managed to obliterate any space for him in your world.

Osamu's jaw clenched hard against the torrent of bitterness and sorrow he refused to let overwhelm him. Without another word, he rolled over to put his back to you, fighting against the urge to simply leave and go sleep on the couch. At least then he could sink into his misery in solitude without your unintended presence serving as a constant reminder of everything he'd lost.

The next morning, Osamu awoke to the soft sounds of you getting ready for work. He lay there for a few minutes, eyes still closed as he tried to savor these final moments before the day inevitably pulled you away from him again. God, he missed the times when you used to linger in bed together before reluctantly untangling and starting your day.

Eventually, he couldn't resist sneaking a look at you. Osamu rolled onto his side, sheets pooling around his waist as he allowed his hungry gaze to roam over the alluring display you made. You were bent over the dresser in just a crisp button-down and lacy underwear, applying your makeup with those little focused furrows in your brow that he found so endearing. The firm swell of your ass was positioned enticingly in the air, practically begging for his calloused palms to shamelessly grope and knead the supple flesh.

Arousal began smoldering low in Osamu's gut as he drank in every lush inch of you. Your hair was still sleep-mussed, silky strands spilling over one shoulder in a way that made him ache to brush them aside and trail openmouthed kisses along the naked column of your neck. He found himself licking his lips instinctively, imagining the way you'd taste - how you used to whimper and arch shamelessly into his questing mouth whenever he leisurely explored your body with his own first thing in the morning.

Unable to resist the siren call a moment longer, Osamu threw off the sheets and padded silently up behind you. You jumped a little when his arms wound around your waist, the hard planes of his chest pressing flush against your back. But you didn't immediately push him away as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sucking in a deep breath of your intoxicating scent.

"Mornin', gorgeous," Osamu rumbled, voice still gruff with sleep. He punctuated the gravelly endearment by walking his fingers tantalizingly up the soft panes of your stomach, reveling in the sharp hitch of your breath when they grazed the lace-trimmed underside of your breasts. "Ya got any time to spend with your husband before leavin' for work this mornin'?"

Something in you seemed to soften at his words, the perpetual tension temporarily ebbing from your frame. Osamu couldn't deny the molten rush of arousal that licked through his veins when you arched subtly back against him - a blatant, wanton invitation despite the strict professional attire.

"I might be able to spare a few minutes," you murmured, tilting your head to allow his lips better access to your throat.

Osamu hummed deep in his chest, the vibration thrumming against your skin as his fingertips continued their leisurely stroking and teasing. His teeth grazed the thundering pulse point at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, not quite biting but exerting enough pressure to make you stifle a whimper. He took his time working over that same maddening patch of sensitive flesh - laving with his tongue, sucking harsh little marks against your salty-sweet skin, utterly worshipping you in a way he hadn't been able to in far too long.

By the time his questing mouth finally slanted over yours, you were already pliant and shamelessly seeking more in his embrace. The kiss quickly turned molten, all clashing teeth and dueling tongues as weeks of pent-up hunger and need poured out between you both. Osamu's hands roamed greedily from your hips down to the lush curves of your ass, squeezing with shameless possession before yanking your lower body flush against the undeniable ridge of his arousal.

You mewled into his mouth, the wanton little sound shooting straight to his cock and making it judder eagerly. For an endless moment, it seemed as though you were on the precipice of giving in fully. Osamu could already envision bending you over the dresser and stuffing you absolutely full of his aching cock, uncaring of how late you'd be to work. He was drunk on the honeyed taste of your mouth, the sultry roll of your hips grinding back eagerly against him.

Then, all at once, you were breaking the heated kiss with a strangled gasp. There was a beat where you simply clung to one another, panting harshly as if struggling to rein in your spiraling lust. When you finally managed to speak, your voice was thick and throaty in a way that made Osamu's cock throb with need.

"Gods, I've missed this, missed you..." you confessed in a throaty murmur, sounding genuinely contrite. You turned in Osamu's embrace then, locking your heavy-lidded gaze with his in a way that made his heart stutter behind his ribs. The naked yearning and simmering desire he saw smoldering in your hooded eyes was like a searing brand against his already feverish skin.

"I'm so sorry for being so distant lately," you continued, chest still rising and falling with dampened little pants from the heated make-out session. One of your hands stroked a tender path down the ridged planes of Osamu's abdomen, nails lightly raking through the crisp trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his loose sleep pants. "I know the work can't be an excuse forever. I promise, tonight I'll leave the office early and we can have the whole evening together...just the two of us."

The husky timbre of your voice combined with that single, deliberate caress had Osamu's neglected cock stirring almost painfully against the flimsy fabric restraining it. He couldn't quite bite back the guttural rumble of need that reverberated up from his very core as your fingers continued their teasing exploration lower and lower. You offered the faintest of smirks as your palm finally cupped and squeezed the unmistakable shape of his rapidly stiffening length through the thin material.

"Fuck, darlin'...ya really know how to make a man suffer, don'tcha?" Osamu ground out through gritted teeth as he moved to sat down on the edge of the bed before his knees gave out entirely. He watched in rapt fascination as your tongue peeked out to wet your plump lips - a deliciously sinful invitation in its own right. But it was the imperious glint flickering to life in your eyes that truly made his cock twitch and strain against the confines of his pants, desperate to be freed and indulged.

You held his heated stare boldly as you continued shamelessly fondling and stroking him to full, throbbing hardness. There was something deliciously intoxicating about having your petite hand working his most intimate places so deliberately, as if he were powerless to resist giving you whatever depravity you desired. As if you knew precisely how badly he craved feeling that velvet grip moments before coating your knuckles in his shameless release.

"I'm not the one suffering here, babe," you purred, giving his aching shaft one final rough caress that nearly bucked his hips off the mattress. "You're the one walking around with this monster straining in your pants all damn day, just waiting for me to give it some attention."

The hairs along Osamu's nape and forearms instantly prickled at your crude observation - not from offense, but from the undeniable bolt of molten arousal zinging straight to his groin at being talked about so blatantly. He gnawed the inside of his cheek, glaring down at you with a heady mixture of reproach and smoldering desire flickering in the gunmetal depths of his stare.

You didn't back down from the challenge, letting your palm drag up and over his length in one torturously slow glide. Then deft fingers hooked into his waistband, tugging the loose material down just enough for his flushed cock to spring free with a harsh intake of breath punching from Osamu's chest. His hands fisted in the disheveled bedsheets as you wrapped your fingers around the thick, pulsing shaft in a firm grip.

"Maybe I should take care of this right now before I head into the office," you mused idly, giving him a few light pumps that had Osamu clenching his jaw to stifle a groan. "At least give me a few more hours before you start going stir-crazy thinking about me all over again..."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Osamu was surging forward, one calloused palm cupping the nape of your neck to yank you into a searing kiss. You let out a muffled yelp of surprise against his lips that was quickly swallowed by his questing tongue delving into the slick, honeyed heat of your mouth. Evidently you'd awoken the ravenous beast within by your blatant taunting and teasing - something dark and blazing now flickering to life behind Osamu's blown pupils.

"Be careful what ya tempt me with, baby girl," he rumbled in a low, gravelly warning as his hips lurched into the tight channel of your fist. "I might just take ya up on a hell of a lot more than that pretty little hand of yours..."

Your pupils blew wider at the explicit promise scorching every word, chest arching into his solid frame as your fingers instinctively tightened around his steely girth. Osamu hissed out a curse at the exquisite friction, thick droplets of precum already welling up and spilling over your pumping knuckles to ease the slick, heated glide.

You licked your lips unconsciously as your gaze dropped to drink in the vulgar sight of your fist working his flushed cock with more fervid urgency. There was an almost transfixed, rapturous look glazing over your features - as if you were utterly enthralled watching Osamu's thick length disappear between your fingers again and again in a messy rhythm. He could feel the rapidly mounting tension lancing through his spine, the telltale tingling heat sizzling out from his groin with each firm pull of your hand along his shaft.

But even as pleasure threatened to steal the last of his composure, Osamu still mustered the strength to reach down, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your dress shirt, intent on returning the favor. His pulse jackhammered against his sternum as he tugged the crisp white material away, revealing the lacy undergarment clinging to the supple swell of your breasts.

He felt the hot bloom of need flare in his gut, unable to resist the temptation to squeeze and knead the ample flesh. Your eyelids fluttered shut with a breathy moan as he toyed with your nipples, teasing them into stiff, rosy peaks that strained against the sheer lace. The air left Osamu's lungs in a harsh, strangled hiss as you tightened your grip around his swollen cock, a fresh wave of precum trickling down the flushed shaft.

It was all he could do not to simply rip the garment off you in a fit of desperate hunger. Instead, he pulled the cups down beneath the generous swell of your breasts, revealing the taut, pebbled buds and making a hungry growl reverberate deep in his chest.

"I've missed these so fuckin' much," Osamu rasped, voice hoarse with arousal. His thumbs dragged across the sensitive tips, reveling in the way they hardened further at his touch. "Been dreamin' of puttin' my mouth all over 'em again."

Without waiting for a response, Osamu leaned down and wrapped his lips around one eager nipple, letting his tongue swirl and flick over the bud. He was rewarded with a soft, breathy cry as your grip faltered, pleasure momentarily stealing away the ability to maintain the steady rhythm. But you quickly recovered, hand resuming its quick, urgent pace while the other tangled in the wild tresses at his nape, pressing his face closer into the inviting softness of your breasts.

A low, needful groan vibrated through the sensitive flesh in his mouth, making you whimper. Your nails bit into his scalp, holding him in place while his tongue worked and laved over the hardened tip, thoroughly lavishing the pebbled peak with his mouth and attention. Osamu's mind was spinning with the intoxicating blend of pleasure and need, the coil in his gut winding tighter and tighter.

He could already feel the tingling heat licking up his spine, signaling the impending explosion. There was nothing he could do to stop it, especially when your thumb swirled across the bulbous tip of his cock. Osamu tore his mouth away from your breast with a snarl, biting his lower lip until it almost bled as his hips shuddered and jerked, the first hot spurt of cum streaking across his abdomen.

He felt more than heard the satisfied hum reverberating through your chest as his cock pulsed and twitched against the slick warmth of your palm. Each new pump dragged a ragged grunt from his throat, milking the last of his release onto the flushed skin of his heaving stomach. It took a long, hazy moment for his vision to stop swimming, the aftershocks of his powerful orgasm still ricocheting through his frame.

In the delirious afterglow, Osamu couldn't resist the primal urge to roll you onto your back and splay himself over your pliant form. His body was still thrumming with the lingering tremors of ecstasy, every nerve ending humming like a livewire in the most exquisite way. But rather than feeling sated, that molten kernel of desire seemed to blaze even hotter at your flushed, thoroughly debauched appearance beneath him.

Your chest heaved with dampened little pants, spit-slick nipples straining against the thin fabric of your unbuttoned blouse. Osamu's gaze roamed shamelessly over the dusky flush staining your skin, down to where the scant lace of your underwear was already soaked through with arousal. He could still taste the honeyed tang of your essence on his tongue from devouring your mouth so ravenously.

With a rumbling groan of renewed hunger, Osamu dipped his head to trail a blazing path of open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips along the elegant column of your throat. You whimpered and arched into the delicious onslaught, clearly struggling to recover your senses enough to protest or push him away. Not that Osamu would have heeded any objections in that heated moment.

"'Samu..." you finally gasped out in a breathy whine as his questing mouth found the swell of your breasts. "I...I have to go or I'll be late..."

He merely grunted against the lush, silken mounds he'd bared so wantonly, tongue swirling over one pebbled peak before sucking the hardened nub between his lips. The broken, urgently tangled sound you made in response sent a scorching spiral of satisfaction lancing through Osamu's groin. For this solitary, lust-drenched instance, you were his again - the gorgeous, needy wife who used to tremble and beg for him to take his time devouring every lush inch.

"Don't think 'bout leavin' this bed until I've had my fill, darlin'," he rumbled, voice pitching even lower and rougher with naked longing.

Perhaps he should have been embarrassed by the wanton, possessive words spilling so unrestrainedly from his lips. But Osamu was too deliriously drunk on the taste and scent and feel of you, the opportunity to rekindle the blazing passion you'd both been so callously denying for far too long. He could already feel the thick insistence of his cock rapidly regenerating between your bodies, seeking that slick source of intoxicating velvet heat.

You seemed to read the explicit intent smoldering behind his hooded stare. With visible effort, you reached up to gently but firmly push against Osamu's shoulders, demurring even as your chest continued rising and falling with shallow pants of desire.

"I really do have to go," you murmured again, licking your plump lips in a completely unconscious gesture Osamu couldn't tear his eyes from. "But...I promise tonight will be just for us. No distractions or work, just you and me reacquainting ourselves properly."

Your sincerity and the dark, heated vow behind those words punched the breath from Osamu's lungs in a trembling exhalation. Part of him - the part that had been aching and insecure for so long now - longed to open his mouth and spill every pent-up insecurity and anxiety. To voice the ugly wonderings that had been festering over whether you harbored deeper regrets about the paths your lives had taken together.

"Do ya...have any regrets?" He found himself rasping out before he could reconsider voicing his private torment. "About us, I mean. Marryin' a guy like me instead of—"

The shrill trill of your phone sliced through the weighted air like a cold slash of sobriety, effectively derailing Osamu's spiraling train of thought. You both froze, heads whipping toward the maddening sound with identical expressions of startled disruption.

Then, as if through a physical force, Osamu felt his stomach plummet all over again when he saw the name that had lit up your screen, accompanying that godforsaken ringtone.

Him. That overly accomplished, smooth-talking coworker you were always praising and mentioning incessantly, whether you realized the implication or not. Osamu's jaw clenched hard enough to grind his molars audibly, hot lance of bitter jealousy flaring with staggering potency. He wanted to ignore the call completely, grab you by the shoulders and shake the truth out of you then and there. Demand honesty about the nature of your relationship with this asshole who always seemed to interrupt and insert himself into their lives, even inadvertently.

But just like that, the rapturous spell you'd both temporarily fallen under was obliterated. Perhaps sensing the drastic shift in Osamu's energy, you quickly sat up and smoothed your disheveled appearance before answering with a terse: "This is [Y/N]. Yes, I was just..."

Osamu barely registered your muffled conversation as white-hot lances of jealousy and resentment pierced through his heartbeat in crashing waves. He simply couldn't stomach listening to the familiar, upbeat tones you always used whenever discussing anything related to that insufferable coworker. The one whose very existence always sent Osamu spiraling into pits of doubt and masculine inadequacy no matter how much logic dictated otherwise.

With stiff, jerky movements, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stooped to hastily tug his pants back into place. His jaw was still clenched so tightly he could feel the tendons straining, every snapping motion charged with scarcely restrained frustration. Part of Osamu didn't even know where this combustible mixture of emotions was coming from - only that it had been abruptly stoked into an inferno within his chest at the sound of that man's name on your lips yet again.

He needed to get out, to escape the suddenly suffocating confines of your bedroom before he had a chance to let the uglier side of his temper detonate in your direction undeservedly. Osamu knew damn well you didn't owe him anything, let alone an explanation for simply taking a call about work in the middle of your morning routines. It was his own traitorous demons and self-doubts rearing their insidious heads yet again.

You'd just begun to make a sincere effort at bridging the distance that had calcified between you, after all. And then he'd managed to go and ruin the moment in spectacular fashion as always. Osamu cursed beneath his breath, shoving his feet into the nearest pair of sandals with jerky impatience as he prepared to storm out and spend the day holed up at the restaurant letting the ovens scour the resentment from his system.

Just as he was yanking on his t-shirt, your soft voice cut through the haze of turmoil ricocheting through his skull: "Osamu, wait..."

He froze in place, muscles coiled tensely as you stepped into his space and pressed your palms over the flushed, taut planes of his abdomen. Your eyes were large and imploring as you tipped your face up towards his, bottom lip caught between your teeth in an unconscious gesture that stirred his lingering lust despite the tangled knot of conflicting emotions.

"I know the timing was awful, but you have to know that call didn't change anything," you murmured, trailing the words against the stubbled line of his jaw in a soft caress. "Tonight is for us, 'Samu. Just you and me with no more interruptions, I swear it."

Those silky reassurances seemed to simultaneously drench Osamu's temper in a dampening balm while stoking the embers of longing and reaffirmation you'd awoken deep within him. He leaned unconsciously into your touch, letting his eyes drift shut as you pressed a lingering kiss to the thundering pulse at his throat. You knew just how to gentle the storm within him, how to properly tame the roiling storm of chaotic need and desire ever-present just beneath his surface restraint.

"You'd better keep that promise, my gorgeous girl," Osamu rasped out gruffly, suddenly lacking the energy to maintain any semblance of distance or aloofness. Abandoning his half-hearted escape attempt, he wound his arms around your waist and crushed you flush against his bare chest. God, how he'd missed the contoured perfection of your body molded to his, the soft delirious surrender of your mouth pillowing into his as the kiss deepened.

After several breathless, devouring moments, you were the one who finally broke away with obvious reluctance. There was an adorable, swollen temptation clinging to your features that made heat bloom anew in Osamu's groin.

"I should...I should really get going before I'm any later," you managed, despite the way your palms drifted aimlessly along his flanks in mute contradiction. "Just...try to have a good day, okay? And be ready to make good on that promise tonight."

The reminder of your imminent departure momentarily dampened the rekindled blaze licking through Osamu's veins, though he managed a faint nod through the disappointment. There would be no more delaying the outside world's demands this morning, he recognized begrudgingly.

"Yeah, darlin', you go on and take care of your business," he rumbled, forcing a tight smirk in place. "I'll be right here waitin' to take damn good care of you later."

With one final, searing look of naked longing and affection, you slipped from his embrace and bustled around to collect your things. Osamu leaned back against the wall and admired every efficient movement and enticing flash of bare skin exposed by your mussed attire. He knew better than to try stealing any further moments beyond what you'd already indulged. Tonight would come, and with it the chance to reconnect with you in all the ways he'd been starving for lately.

That glimmer of hope and rekindled anticipation was enough to infuse Osamu with much-needed patience as he finally watched you head out the door, throwing a coy glance over your shoulder. For the first time in months, the future felt more like an endless oasis to indulge in rather than an empty desert to be endured.

The muffled ticking of the bedside clock seemed to reverberate through Osamu's skull like a steadily amplifying drum of dread. Midnight had come and gone over an hour ago, each agonizing minute distorting into excruciating suspense as he waited impatiently for you to arrive home as promised.

He'd closed up the restaurant early for once, something he almost never allowed for fear of disappointing the loyal patrons who depended on the Miya name. But tonight was supposed to be different - a rare evening reserved solely for reconnecting with the wife he adored yet had been neglecting for far too long. So Osamu made the sacrifice without a second thought, eager to slip into your shared home and set the scene for a night of indulgent intimacies.

Which was why he currently sat perched on the edge of your rumpled bed, stripped down to just his loose sleep pants in anticipation. Flickering candlelight danced in a sensual halo across the dimly lit space, blending with the heated aromas of scented oils he'd taken care to prepare. An indulgent spread of chilled sake and decadent fruits had been arranged on the bedside table, standing ready for whenever you finally saw fit to arrive.

Osamu's jaw clenched hard as his eyes flicked once more to the glowing numbers of the clock, each one seeming to mock his vigil more cruelly than the last. Where the hell were you? What could possibly be keeping you so unconscionably late after making such emphatic promises about spending one uninterrupted evening reacquainting yourselves on every conceivable level?

He fought not to let his mind spiral down the darkest avenues, to those insidious tendrils of self-doubt and virulent envy that had taken root thanks to your increasing emotional distance lately. Osamu knew where those toxic paths led - to irrational accusations, defensive postulating, and the exact sort of explosive confrontation that could shatter the fragile new understanding you'd seemingly reforged earlier in the morning.

And yet the minutes continued their merciless tick...tick...tick down to oblivion, each one stoking Osamu's restless frustration into an inextinguishable furnace despite his best efforts. You'd sworn there would be no more distractions tonight, nothing to divert your attentions from properly reconnecting after so much strain and deprivation between you both. He'd believed you with every fiber of his soul, clinging to that hushed promise like a man dying of thirst finally being offered the sweetest oasis to drink from.

But here he sat, alone and slowly twisting within the flames of his own insecurities and irrational resentments as the night stretched on interminably. Surely you wouldn't be so cruel, so selfish as to actually disregard everything you'd—

The rattle of keys in the front door snapped Osamu from his spiraling torment like a rubberband violently released. He was on his feet in an instant, bare chest heaving from the rapid thundering of his pulse as hurried footsteps approached. There was only the barest glimmer of composure in his expression by the time you came into view, haloed in the soft lighting with your usual unruffled elegance noticeably brittle around the edges.

"Hey, I'm so sorry it took so—" You jolted at the utterly thunderous look twisting Osamu's normally unshakable features. It was as if you'd stepped directly into the crosshairs of a volatile storm system, the roiling tumult threatening to obliterate you where you stood.

"Don't," he bit out through gritted teeth, the words escaping on a scorched exhale. "Whatever excuse ya think ya got, I don't wanna hear it right now."

Your eyes widened fractionally at his harsh tone, so uncharacteristically biting and laced with venom he usually kept on a brutally leashed tether around you. Perhaps you sensed the dangerous inferno searing through Osamu's veins in that loaded moment, the rage and desolation rapidly overriding any attempts at patience or understanding.

"This was s'posed to be our night, just the two of us reconnectin' after so much bullshit strain and distance," Osamu seethed, taking an inadvertent step forward on legs that felt like they may give out from all the unreleased tension. "But ya blew that off, same as everythin' else lately. Can't even be bothered to show up and make an honest try at it—"

"Osamu, that's not fair at all!" You cut him off with a flash of your own bristling defensiveness. "You know this new project has been crazy for everyone in the office lately. Sasaki needed some files finished up for the big meeting tomorrow, so I—"

The mention of that name was like a razor slashing through the final taut threads of Osamu's restraint. His vision whited out momentarily, a primal roar of fury ripping from deep within his straining chest.

"Don't you dare say that snake's name in front of me right now, not after all his bullshit is what caused this whole fuckin' mess!" Osamu bellowed, unable to control the torrent of rage and accusation lashing out in every direction now.

You recoiled as if struck, eyes widening with genuine shock at the venom dripping from Osamu's words. "What the hell are you talking about, Osamu? Bringing Sasaki into this?"

He let out a harsh, derisive bark of laughter completely devoid of mirth. "Don't act so damn clueless! Ya really think I'm blind to everything that's been goin' on lately?"

Whirling away from you, Osamu raked his hands through his disheveled hair with a ragged groan. "Ya can't even be bothered to show up for one goddamn night after promisin' me - promisin' your own husband - that you'd actually make time for us. Instead ya let that wormy son of a bitch take priority over me, over this marriage, just like always!"

He punctuated his outburst by sweeping an arm across the bedside table, sending the sake bottle and plate of fruit clattering to the floor in a violent clatter. You flinched bodily at the outburst, more stunned than anything by the sudden shift into such ferocious rage.

"I don't understand... What does Sasaki have to do with any of this?" you demanded, hands curling into fists at your sides. "He's my colleague, Osamu - my coworker on this huge make-or-break project. You're acting completely insane right now!"

"Oh I'm insane?" he snarled, wheeling back to face you with eyes made incandescent by the inferno of betrayal raging within. "That's rich comin' from the wife who's been slowly driftin' away to give all her time and attention to another man!"

The vicious accusation seemed to hang there, reverberating through the tense silence as Osamu stared you down with heaving breaths. You opened and closed your mouth once, twice, before the hurt and outrage finally burst free in a trembling torrent.

"How dare you..." The whisper was barely audible over the thundering of blood in your ears. "How dare you even suggest that I would...that I could ever..."

You didn't bother finishing the thought, simply hurling it aside as you stalked towards him with fury lending each step a razor's edge. "You bastard! How could you accuse me of something so vile, so unfathomably disgusting?"

Osamu held his ground even as you drove into his space, eyes blazing and jaw so tightly clenched he wondered if molars might start fracturing under the strain. "Well why the hell else would ya keep brushin' me off like some irrelevant afterthought whenever that prick's name gets brought up?"

That earned him a hard shove to the chest that made him stumble back a step. "Because he's my project manager, you insensitive prick! We've been working around the clock to pull this massive deal together, not carrying on some tawdry affair behind your back!"

Osamu opened his mouth, a scathing retort undoubtedly primed to further stoke the raging inferno engulfing you both. But you barreled forward, far too swept up in your own torrent of indignation to give him the chance.

"I can't believe you'd think I was capable of that, of betraying you like that!" You were nearly shouting now, treading the terrifying line of pushing too far with your vehement denial. "Have I really fallen so low in your eyes, Osamu? Have you completely lost all respect for me as your wife just because I've been stressed with work?"

The words seemed to splinter something inside him, shattering the final vestiges of Osamu's tenuous restraint like a wrecking ball through glass. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go - not even remotely close. Yet here you both were, lashing out with scorching recriminations and accusations so poisonous they could permanently scald the bond you'd been fighting so hard to preserve.

The tension escalated rapidly as deep-seated insecurities and resentments came pouring out from Osamu in a torrent of anguished words.

"You think I'm blind?" he rasped, hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his sides. "I see the way ya talk about him - all admirin' and impressed. Like he's exactly the kinda successful, ambitious man ya wish ya coulda ended up with instead of a guy whose biggest accomplishment is plowin' rice into little seaweed pockets."

Osamu's throat bobbed convulsively, the swell of emotion he'd fought so hard to keep tamped down suddenly rupturing free without restraint. "Don't try denyin' it, darlin'. We both know your family never wanted this for ya - never wanted some third-rate chef as a son-in-law when ya deserved someone who could actually give ya a real, prosperous future."

You opened your mouth to protest - whether to rail against his baseless accusations or to deny the awful truth ringing out from his words, it was impossible to say. But Osamu simply barreled forward, finally giving voice to every twisted vine of anxiety and inadequacy that had been slowly strangling him from the inside out.

"I ain't blind to how impressive that asshole Sasaki must seem in comparison," he forced out in a guttural rasp. "'Course ya had to go fallin' for his fake charms and prestigious career instead of stayin' happy with a foolish dreamer like me who hasn't accomplished a godddamn thing outside the kitchen..."

There was so much raw, visceral pain laced into the venom now, to the point where it seemed to sap the very fire thrumming through Osamu's veins. His shoulders slumped infinitesimally as the next words escaped in a broken exhalation that may as well have torn straight from the tattered remnants of his heart:

"Bet ya regret it nowadays, don't ya? Regret waitin' around for me to finally become a man who deserves someone as outta my league as you..."

The weighted silence that followed could have been sliced with a heated blade. Osamu's chest heaved raggedly with the exertion of finally purging that bottle of poisonous self-loathing and desperate jealousy he'd allowed to steep unchecked for far too long. He couldn't even meet your widened stare, afraid of what condemnation or twisted sense of validation he might find reflecting back in your eyes.

When you finally did speak, the words were laced with a mordant, simmering fury that very nearly made Osamu flinch.

"You absolute fool..." Your voice shook with the sheer effort of leashing your own outrage at such egregiously unfounded accusations. "We've built an entire life together - made innumerable sacrifices and shed blood, sweat and tears to stay by each other's sides against all resistance. And you have the audacity to stand there and suggest I've been regretting my choice the whole time?"

Osamu did flinch then at the naked hurt bleeding into your tone, even as you took a threatening step forward into his space. "You think I give a damn about some uppity corporate suit's status or paycheck? That shallow, meaningless bullshit like money and prestige means anything to me compared to finding a man with the strength of conviction to relentlessly pursue his own dreams and passions?"

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and something infinitely more searing - the look of utter betrayal that comes from having one's most profoundly held beliefs and principles insulted so grossly. "I chose you, Osamu. Not because I settled or had limited options, but because I saw a fiercely ambitious man who refused to let anything deter him from the path he'd chosen. Who am I to judge or look down on that resolve when it's the very thing that's taken you this far in life and made your wildest dreams into reality?"

You uttered a choked, incredulous bark of laughter then, thumbing away the treacherous moisture from your lashes. "And yet here you are, somehow twisting my admiration and commitment into some kind of damning regret? As if I'd ever be shallow enough to toss away everything we've fought for just because some stuffed shirt made more money than the husband I willingly chose to spend my life with?"

The words hung there, searing into Osamu's skin like a brand of recrimination and disgrace that he knew he'd never fully recover from. His throat worked uselessly as his mouth dried up completely, every fresh inhale feeling like shards of glass being slowly dragged down his esophageal lining.

"Darlin', I—" Osamu's words caught in his throat, the apology and desperate plea for understanding withering on his tongue.

Your expression hardened as you watched him struggle, lips pressed into a flat line. For a tense moment, it seemed like you might indeed turn and storm away, leaving Osamu to wallow in the shattered ruins of his unfounded accusations and misplaced jealousy.

But then your features softened almost imperceptibly. You seemed to truly take in the picture he made - shoulders slumped, eyes downcast with naked shame and regret, hollow ache etched into the lines of his face. Slowly, you bridged the distance between you until you could reach out and gently cup his bristled jaw, coaxing his gaze up to meet yours.

"Oh 'Samu..." you murmured, thumb tracing the sharp plane of his cheekbone. "How long have you been torturing yourself with all these insecurities?"

He worked his jaw but no sound emerged save a ragged exhalation. Osamu felt utterly flayed open and exposed under the weight of your searching stare. As if you could see straight through to the twisted tangle of self-doubt and desperate possessiveness that had steadily tightened its vice-like grip around his heart.

You simply shook your head, features etched with a complicated mixture of sadness, exasperation, and that bone-deep affection he'd watched himself slowly burying over the past weeks and months. "All this time, you've been utterly convinced I was unhappy, that I was regretting my choice to be with you. When the truth couldn't be more opposite..."

Leaning in, you pressed your brow to Osamu's and simply held there for a long, grounding moment. He could feel the featherlight sweeps of your exhales fanning across his skin, smell the warm, comforting fragrance of your hair enveloping his senses. It was like your mere presence acted as a balm against the rawest, most inflamed parts of him.

"I don't know exactly when or how we let ourselves drift so far apart," you eventually continued in a murmur meant only for him. "All I know is how unbearable the distance became, feeling you slipping further and further away from me with each passing day. Maybe I did get too wrapped up in work and missed the warning signs..."

Osamu shuddered out a shaky breath, feeling the knot of shame and guilt inside him swell larger. Your understanding, your infinite well of empathy and wisdom that he'd somehow deluded himself into believing you'd grown contemptuous of - it was all still here, still the most beautiful facet of the woman he'd fallen for all those years ago. How could he have been so blind? So deeply steeped in insecurity and baseless resentments to lash out at you in such a vile manner?

As if sensing his spiraling self-flagellation, you cradled the nape of his neck and pulled him into a searing kiss that he instantly melted into. It was a kiss filled with forgiveness and reaffirmation, a reminder of the profoundly deep love and unwavering devotion you'd sworn to one another through all the hardships thrown your way. When you finally parted, Osamu chased your mouth with a low, plaintive rumble of unvarnished need.

"I'm here, 'Samu," you reassured him with solemn conviction. "We're going to find our way back to each other, just like we always have. But you have to start learning to trust me again. To trust in the choice I made to have you as my partner through everything life throws our way, no matter what."

Osamu could only nod helplessly against the crown of your head, arms tightening their embrace as if you might simply evaporate into the ether without his anchor. He felt hollowed out, scraped raw from finally lancing the fetid well of poisonous emotions he'd allowed to fester for far too long.

But beneath the shame and regret still simmering dimly, a new spark of warmth kindled to life within his chest. You hadn't given up on him, on them, despite his unforgivable lapse of faith. If anything, your understanding and patience seemed to burn brighter in the aftermath of such an explosive confrontation.

"I never stopped trustin' you, darlin'," he rasped out in a voice made husky from the night's tumultuous purging. "Not really. Just got so twisted up in my own bullshit fears of not bein' enough for ya that I...I let it blind me to everythin' else."

Pulling back just enough to brush away the dampness clinging to your lashes, Osamu managed a wan smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ya deserve so much more than some deadbeat who lets his own demons make him lash out at the best thing he's ever had."

You shook your head mutely, fingers tracing the sharp curve of his cheek with infinite tenderness. "That's where you're wrong, 'Samu. I don't want or need anything 'more' than you - than this life and family and partnership we've created together through the years."

Ducking your head, you pressed a soft kiss Just above the thundering pulse at his throat, seeming to savor the solidity of him against your mouth. "Maybe that's where I failed you too. Got so wrapped up in my own career ambitions that I didn't reassure you enough of how precious you are to me."

Osamu shivered at the whisper-light caress of your lips slowly mapping across the column of his neck, your breath fanning in warm gusts against his sensitized skin. There was an achingly familiar heat rapidly rekindling low in his abdomen despite his emotional rawness - like an instinctive, Pavlovian response to your intimate proximity and worship after so much bitter starvation.

"Ya still chose me over everythin' y'know," he managed in a low, strained rasp as your mouth continued blazing an indulgent path towards his collarbone. "Despite all the bullshit expectations and pressures tryin' to push ya towards greener pastures, ya fought to be by my side. Never really understood how that didn't scare a gorgeous, brilliant woman like you away for good..."

A tremor shuddered through Osamu's frame at the deliberate graze of your teeth Just below his ear, the shock of blunted sensation bordering on pain yet stoking the slow smolder between his hips into an inferno. He could feel his cock rapidly stiffening within the loose confines of his sweats, aching arousal pulsing thickly as your mouth meandered lower.

"Maybe the real question..." you purred in a voice gone husky with a new and deliciously different kind of need. "...is whether you think I regret my choice now when you're standing here all hard and fuckable and completely irresistible to me?"

The shockingly filthy endearment combined with the questing path your fingers had begun to blaze down Osamu's abdomen, dipping just below the tempting waistband of his clothes, made his eyelids flutter closed with a harsh exhalation. You knew exactly which of his buttons to push, what incendiary combination of pleasure and praise could undo his restraint at the drop of a hat.

Something wild and ravenous flickered to life behind his lust-glazed eyes as Osamu hauled you flush against him, the evident ridge of his arousal grinding into the soft give of your belly between your bodies. There would be no more talking for the moment, he decided with a low rumble vibrating against your mouth. Just the two of you indulging in the most profoundly intimate form of communication after being starved of it for far too long.

The raw neediness quickly bled away any lingering awkwardness or heavy emotional weight between you. In its place thrummed that deliriously familiar charge - the revved tension of two lifelong partners who knew every intimate tell and trick to unraveling one another with ruthless precision.

"God, I've missed this..." Osamu growled against the swell of your throat, teeth scraping just firmly enough to make you shudder. "Missed havin' ya spread out and whinin' for more of this cock like the rapturous little slut ya are."

You whimpered at the dark timbre of his words, tilting your head back on instinct to bare more of your neck's vulnerable expanse. Despite the crude endearment, you could feel slick arousal already dampening your inner thighs at Osamu's molten promises. This was the raw, unrestrained husband you'd been starving for too - the one who wielded filth and adoration in equally devastating measures.

"Then what are you waiting for?" you taunted breathlessly, raking blunt nails down the ridges of his abdomen. "Fill me up already, make me your whore for wasting so much time..."

A punched-out groan rattled up from Osamu's chest as he hauled you impossibly closer, thick cock twitching insistently against your clothed belly. "Oh I'm gonna take my sweet time, baby girl. Gonna ruin that greedy lil' cunt 'til you're nothin' but a soppy, overstuffed mess beggin' for air..."

There was no more need for foreplay or delicate reintroductions as you both rapidly descended into your basest headspaces. You simply tore at his sweatpants with ravenous impatience until Osamu's thick, flushed length sprang free and into your eager fist. He snarled against the sting of your palm working his shaft in rough, decisive strokes meant to bring him to the very precipice before you'd even entertained the idea of lining him up to your entrance.

But that was the beautiful dance you'd perfected over years of pushing each other's limits - winding one another up into such blazing states of desperation that the eventual payoff was nothing short of psychedelic euphoria. Osamu's huge palms were already shoving up the thin fabric of your top, exposing your bare breasts to his calloused adulation as he rutted shamelessly against your pumping fist.

"Not gonna last if ya keep that up, my gorgeous little cumslut..." he gritted out in a strangled rasp, foregoing any further niceties. "Better start puttin' that cock-hungry mouth to good use already if ya want a chance at gettin' bred tonight..."

Dropping instantly to your knees, you simply quirked a taunting brow up at your husband's wrecked expression before guiding the blunt, drooling tip of his length between your already slicked lips. Osamu gathered your hair in his fist and simply held for a beat, watching the obscene way his swollen girth disappeared in and out of your welcoming warmth with a rapturous expression.

"There's my pretty lil' cockwarmer," he groaned, canting his hips to sink a fraction deeper. "Fuck, been dyin' to have that hot lil' tongue of yours back on my dick..."

The rest of his words melted into a low, animalistic snarl as you bobbed down and swallowed around him, coaxing a fat, pearly droplet of pre-cum from his tip. The rich, salty flavor flooded your senses and made you moan eagerly, the vibrations making Osamu's eyes flutter shut and his cock throb heavily in your grasp.

He looked like a veritable Adonis standing there framed in the moonlight, towering and muscled and utterly, deliciously ruined by the way your lips and tongue were working him over. But the best part was the way he watched you with rapt, devouring attention, utterly spellbound by the lewd, wet sounds emerging from the union of your mouth and his swollen shaft.

It was a heady rush of power to have such a formidable man at the mercy of your mouth - to know you'd driven him so delirious with arousal and affection that he could barely restrain the need to come undone. But you could already feel the telltale tension beginning to tighten in his thighs, the rapid rise and fall of his broad chest as Osamu's breath turned ragged.

"Not gonna last," he finally grunted out in a gravelly rasp, the fingers fisted in your hair clenching involuntarily. "Want my cum all over that pretty lil' face instead of down your throat..."

You simply hummed an eager affirmative, working your fist faster as the wet, rhythmic sounds of suction and friction escalated. The lewd, filthy squelches of you worshipping his cock filled the space, along with the broken, needy groans and muttered obscenities that Osamu couldn't contain anymore.

His hips were snapping forward erratically now, driving his swollen length further and deeper until you were nearly choking. The sight of you kneeling there with his shaft buried down your throat and tears clinging to your lashes made something savage and possessive rear up inside Osamu, something that had been repressed and starved for far too long.

It didn't take more than a few seconds after you hollowed out your cheeks and swirled your tongue around his pulsing girth for him to finally come undone. You felt the instantaneous warning flex and throb of his cock against your tongue, heard the sharp curse ripped from his lips as Osamu spilled his thick, scalding release across your face and the slope of your breasts.

It was an obscene and utterly debauched picture, one that made you moan and rock your hips desperately against nothing as your own arousal flared to a fever pitch. But the look of awe and unhinged lust painted across Osamu's face was more than enough to send a fresh jolt of wetness slicking between your thighs.

He stood there panting for a long moment, staring down at you like the vision straight out of his most depraved dreams. His thumb slowly swept through the thick, pearly ropes painting your skin before tracing the swell of your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open so he could feed you a few decadent, musky drops.

"God, look at that..." Osamu murmured in a gravel-rough voice, gaze glazed over with the kind of pure, primal desire that made you whimper helplessly as he slowly brought you back up to your feet. "Haven’t seen ya like this since our honeymoon, darlin'...Look so damn ravishing with all my cum paintin' that pretty lil' face..."

A breathless gasp punched out of your lungs at the first questing touch between your thighs, the shock of sensation nearly blinding as it ricocheted through you. You were so wound up from sucking his cock that Osamu could have probably slid home without any additional prep, the evidence of that fact seeping from your soaked entrance in a steady trickle.

"Already soaked through yer panties for me, huh?" he purred, thumb stroking your slit teasingly. "What's got ya so worked up, baby girl? Was suckin' my dick really that excitin' for ya?"

Osamu was already tugging aside the drenched scrap of fabric, exposing you completely to the cool night air and his ravenous gaze. He was hard again, already straining against the cradle of your hips as he dragged the fat, glistening head of his cock through your folds.

"Think I remember this bein' the most excitin' part for ya..." he mused, sinking just the tip in and groaning as you immediately clenched and fluttered around him. "When I'd fuck ya slow and sweet, lettin' ya feel every inch as I sank into yer cunt."

A helpless cry wrenched itself from your throat at the first slow, achingly decadent stretch, your spine arching instinctively and hips bucking for more. It was exactly as Osamu remembered, the perfect, sinful way you took him so eagerly - all hot, velvety grip and clenching pressure that drove him steadily closer to the brink.

But the pace was torturously, maddeningly slow - a sensual glide of friction and heat and breathless kisses until you felt like you were about to combust. You clung to him, clawing desperately at his back and shoulders as he pinned you to the wall with his weight, driving his cock into you again and again with a relentless rhythm.

"Oh god...yes..." you whined, voice pitching higher as Osamu's mouth latched onto your throat, teeth sinking in just sharply enough to make you sob. "Fuck, I missed this, 'Samu...filling me up so full of your cock...missed you fucking me like you own me..."

He swore viciously, hips snapping forward so sharply that you could have sworn his tip kissed the deepest reaches of you. Osamu's eyes were glassy and blown black with need, mouth swollen and red from the brutal kiss you'd pulled him into. He looked almost wild, a feral, untamed version of your husband who seemed ready to consume you whole.

"I do own you, baby girl..." he snarled, hand slipping between you to stroke your swollen clit. "This gorgeous little cunt was made for my cock, right? Can't get enough of the way I'm fillin' ya up, can ya?"

You cried out in agreement, legs locking tighter around his waist and nails raking across the planes of his back. Osamu's touch was unerringly precise, knowing just how and where to stimulate you to bring about the most devastating of orgasms. Your head fell back with a wordless wail, body going taut as the pleasure crested and shattered inside you.

Osamu kept driving into you, fucking you through the orgasm and straight towards the next one as he chased his own release. He was babbling filthy nonsense into the crook of your neck, praises and oaths and filth mixed together into a desperate, unintelligible litany. You could feel the slick glide of his cock and the renewed gush of your juices from the overstimulation, the obscene sounds of it all ratcheting your desire higher still.

It wasn't until his cock began to swell and twitch within the grasp of your cunt, spitting ropes of seed deep inside you, that Osamu finally slowed and went boneless against you. He slumped forward, trapping you between his sweat-slicked frame and the wall at your back, still buried to the hilt.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the harsh drags of your breaths and the distant sounds of the ocean lapping at the shore. There was no need for words, just the warm, comforting embrace of a bond and trust renewed.

"We're not done here," Osamu finally rumbled, voice low and raspy with lingering need. "M’ not gonna be satisfied 'til I've had ya in every single room of this place. On the porch. In the kitchen. Even the damn balcony."

A soft, incredulous laugh bubbled up from your chest, but it quickly morphed into a wanton moan when his hips rocked into you. You were already growing wetter, more sensitive, with each languid stroke of his cock.

"I don't think my body could handle a marathon sexcapade like our honeymoon, 'Samu," you managed to gasp out.

A wolfish smirk stretched across his face at the memory of how you'd spent most of your first week together as newlyweds - utterly debauched and insatiable and ravenous for one another.

"We'll see about that, darlin'."

#this was quite shitty and you can tell i barely put any effort into it #but i still wanted to write something after so long #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader smut #osamu smut #osamu x reader

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oxytxn · 19 days ago

Text

him walking into the bedroom to catch you masturbating—you, with headphones in, listening to a spicy audio. he stands in the doorway with narrowed eyes, yet almost a receptive gaze—like he’s learning. and he’s got that smirk on his face, waiting for you to see him after you’re finished with your cute little bullet vibrator. whether that be creaming all over the little toy or you screaming in frustration when you can’t quite get there.

but oh, when he hears you moan out his name in that saccharine voice of yours, his pants suddenly feel so fucking tight. and seeing the mixture of shock and slightly excitement in your eyes when you finally see him? oh, he’s even harder now.

so he disconnects your headphones and tells you to start it back at the beginning where he can hear it too. when you hesitate, he presses rewind for you while holding your gaze.

once it plays, he acts to the man’s words and sounds, the lewd and absolutely sinful smacks of his lips against your pussy and calloused thumb rubbing on your poor puffy clit making you cum embarrassingly quick on his tongue.

but that’s just the first five minutes—he wants to go through the entire video.

hq ⟡ KYOUTANI KENTARO, yaku morisuke, MIYA ATSUMU, iwaizumi hajime, SUNA RINTAROU, sugawara koushi, MIYA OSAMU, your fave.

jjk ⟡ NANAMI KENTO, geto suguru, SUKUNA RYOMEN, gojo satoru, TOJI FUSHIGURO, your fave.

aot ⟡ JEAN KIRSTEIN, eren jaeger, ZEKE JAEGER, connie springer, PORCO GALLIARD, your fave.

masterlist.

ik these munches love to eat 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©oxytxn 2025.

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slutxcx · 29 days ago

Text

SMUT MDNI, SIZE KINK

Thinking about men who have a disgusting size kink.

“You sure you can handle this, baby?” he murmurs, voice low and thick with heat, eyes raking over your trembling body. His hand wraps slowly around the base of his cock — big, heavy, flushed dark, leaking at the tip.

You swallow hard. He watches you with that smirk again — the one he wears when he knows he’s too much.

“You’re always actin’ so innocent,” he growls, slowly stroking himself, eyes flickering between your legs. “But every time I pull this out, you look at me like you’re starvin’.”

You whimper, hips shifting instinctively. He chuckles darkly.

“Fuckin’ love how tiny you are,” he whispers, pushing your thighs open, rough hands dwarfing your waist. “Love how your pretty little pussy struggles to take me.”

He lines himself up, rubbing the thick head against your entrance, groaning when he feels just how wet you are.

“Look at that,” he mutters, pressing in a fraction. “Barely inside, and you’re already twitchin’.”

Your breath hitches as the stretch burns, overwhelming but addictive. Your hands grip his forearms, nails digging in.

“F-Fuck—”

“I got you,” he grits, voice wrecked with restraint. “C’mon. Let me in. Be a good girl and open up f’me.”

He pushes deeper, inch by inch, groaning as you clamp down, gasping under him. “Goddamn… you feel that? That’s all me, baby.” he places a large hand on your lower stomach, pressing down so you feel every inch that's entering you. You claw at his chest, spewing nonsense, tears staining your cheeks at the impossible stretch.

It shouldn't be humanly possible to be this big. He taps your cheek, bringing you back. "You with me? Stay with me, doll. I know it hurts, it'll feel better very soon"

You nod desperately, legs trembling around his hips.

“Yeah,” he whispers against your ear, thrusting just enough to make your body jolt. “Take it. Take all of me like the perfect fuckin’ girl you are.”

Nagi Seishiro, sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, kunigami, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna, megumi, choso kamo, Michael Kaiser, sasuke Uchiha, dazai osamu, miya atsumu, oikawa tooru, bokuto kotaro, kuroo tetsuro, dante, bakugo katsuki, dabi + your faves

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accioscarheadthings · 10 months ago

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↳ 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 - 𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗸𝘆𝘂𝘂! 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

summary - when they so pussydrunk and deep in subspace that they fuck you senseless

warning - explicit smut, 18+, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, praise kink and degradation kink (i have issues), breeding kink, spit kink, stomach bulge, subspace, premature ejaculation, overstimulation, breast play, choking kink, clit slapping

featuring characters — NISHINOYA, OIKAWA, YAMAGUCHI, OSAMU, BOKUTO, HINATA, KENMA, ASAHI, KAGEYAMA

"spread those pretty legs for me, baby,"

your husband loomed over you, his body bare and taut with muscle as he gazes down at you, his eyes roving over you body in hunger, committing every inch of you to memory.

he leaned over you, and you can't help but run your hands over his rippling muscles.

it was a normal night, a night of intimate touches and gentle kisses. but when the question of having babies came up, things took a different turn. you had told him that you were ready to have his babies, that you wanted to feel him filling you up, and it was as if a switch had been flipped inside him.

his kisses became more intense, more voracious as if he was trying to devour you.

his hands roamed over your body, and soon the clothes were shed, leaving you both bare and vulnerable to each other.

and now you're here, laying bare beneath him, his body towering over you as he looks down at you with a predatory gaze.

standing between your legs at the edge of the bed, he gave his hard cock a few strokes, resting his tip on your slit and he slathered his arousal all over your pussylips.

"mine," he groused in a possessive manner, "all mine," he slowly eased his length into you, slowly and deliberately. his hands gripped your hips as he pushed deeper into you.

you sunk your teeth on your lower lip, your walls molding to fit his grith as you took in every bit of him

"s-so warm," he buried his face into your neck, feeling the way your pussy clamped around him, "so tight, fuck baby," his fingers dug into your hip, hard enough to bruise, "m not gonna last long, ah, i can't hold back baby, fuckk,"

his cock twitched inside you just as he pushed all of him into you. he could sense his nearing orgasm, his body going rigid, tensing up as the knot in his lower tummy tightened and tightened. he went over the edge, groaning and whimpering against your skin.

"shit, i didn't mean to finish to quick, love. ahh. couldn't hold back," his forehead creased.

he peppered your face with soft kisses, his hands gently stroking your hair, "let me make it up to you,"

he didn't pull out just yet and stayed inside you, rolling his hips against yours.

you slung one leg around his hips, pulling him into you, "just fuck me, need you s'much please," you whined, your pussy warm with his cum.

your core spasmed around his cock, his bulbous tip nudging the edge of your cervix with each pointed, thrust of his pelvis against yours.

"can feel her creamin' around me," he blubbered, pressed his lips to your cheek, "such a pretty pussy, begging to be fucked,"

he pulled out slightly, looking down to where you were connected with him. a white ring of your mixed arousal was circled the base of his cock, sliding down to his sac.

"m'gonna fill her up nice and full," he pulled his semi-hard cock out, coated with your slick, and rested it against your leaking entrance.

"you've been thinking about it, haven't you? you've been fantasizing about me knocking you up, about me making you mine," he grumbled into your chest, mouthing languidly at your skin.

he straightened up on his knees between your legs, resting a hand on your pudgy waist.

the thought of your body changing and swelling with his child, your breasts growing full and heavy with sweet milk, turned him on even more; his cock twitched at the mental image in his head.

"fuck, yeah," he groaned, his voice rough with need, "i want to see you like that, sweetheart," he nudged the tip of his cock into your entrance, pushing slowly.

your face scrunched in pleasure, head fuzzy. wanting more. needing more.

"i want to watch your hips widen and your breasts fill out," he murmured, cupping your breast and pinching your hard nipple, eliciting a moan from you, "i want to see you swollen and heavy with my child. i want to see your body change, just for me,"

with that, he rammed his remaining length into your sopping heat without any warning, bottoming out in one fluid motion.

you cried out at his action. he paused for a moment, watching you gasp and writhe under him.

"s'big so good," you whined, throwing your head back into the mattress, your head fogging from the stimulation.

"that's what u want, isn't it?" he teased, fucking his cum back into your hole, "what me to stuff you full of my cum, eh?"

"fuck, yes," you clawed at his back, digging your nails deep enough into his skin to mark him, gasping for breath as you rbrows furrowed.

he moaned, head tipping forward as his hair fell over his forehead, "you'll be feeling me for days, baby,"

you were speechless with ecstasy, every touch and movement from your husband felt magnified, your body responding desperately to even the lightest touch.

"did i fuck you dumb, baby?" his words were thick and heavy, his breath coming in ragged gasps, "fucking cumslut,"

your pussy clenched around him, spasming around his girth.

"ahh gonna cum again," he muttered, before spilling his load into you.

but even so, he didn't slow down, instead, he grabbed your ankle and tossed it on his shoulder, to hit you even deeper.

"oh god," you cried out, back arching. as a result, his cock nudged that spongy spot in you, "i-i - right there, please,"

his hips worked relentlessly against yours, "m'gonna fuck u till your pussy is full of my cum," his thrusts became harder and deeper, "she's takin' me so well," he landed a smack over your clit.

your entire body jerked in response, shivers coursing under your skin.

the matress began to squeak and the frame hit the wall with the force of his each brutal fucking.

"you'll be growin' our baby here," he pressed his palm on your lower stomach with slight pressure.

"i can feel me here, fuckk," he panted, open mouth pressed against yours, hot breath coming out in puffs. he could feel himself thrusting in and out of you.

the weight of his hand only intensified the effect of his cock drilling in and out of you. you writhed and moaned uncontrollably, fisting the sheets in a death grip.

the intensity of the sensations crashing over you was almost too much to bear. white flashes of pleasure exploded behind your eyes, drowning them in a sea of ecstasy and your orgasm passed through you.

you clenched around his length, grabbing his biceps for any sense of balance.

"oh sh- fuck,"

his hips rocked into you hard as he reached his peak again, his cock burying to the hilt as he shot ropes of cum into your gummy walls.

"ah, squeezin' me so good," he roused, dipping his cock in and out of you that made your mixed arousal dribble from the sides, leaking down the crease of your inner thigh.

his cock softened inside you, nestling snugly within your soaking folds.

he pushed the pad of his thumb on your soft, pink, lower lip, forcing your mouth open. you stuck out your tongue involuntarily.

you closed your mouth around his digit, sucking his thumb into your hot and wet mouth. you swirled your tongue around, blinking up at him with dilated pupils.

he pulled his thumb back with a loud pop, and the sight of the long, thick string of saliva stretching between his thumb and your mouth was obscenely hot.

he couldn't help but give a low, guttural moan at the sight of your mouth, glistening from spit and desire.

"fuck," he whispers, his voice thick with need, "you look so beautiful right now, so perfect for me,"

"open your mouth," he leaned down, cupping your face in his hand, puckering his lips over your parted lips.

you poked out your tongue, your lashes fluttering. you let out a strangled whine, feeling a thick glob of saliva hitting your tongue.

he peered into your eyes, his voice low and commanding, "swallow,"

your eyes fluttered close, and you obeyed, swallowing the salty liquid without a second thought, moaning and arching your back with a whimper.

"good girl," he praised, beginning to thrust his hips into yours, "that's my good girl, taking what i give you and obeying me without question,"

his hand slid down, circling around your slender neck and squeezing gently.

the pressure on you throat was just enough to make you gasp for breath, your eyes going wide with surprise and pleasure.

he leaned over your form, your mouths crashing together in a messy, desperate tangle of lips and teeth and tongue.

you gripped each other tightly, each trying to pull the other closer as if you could merge into one being from the sheer force of your desire.

his thumb reached between your legs, pressing and rubbing roughly on your clit.

you could feel it building, the pleasure and tension coiling in your abdomen like a taut rubber band.

you pulled back from the slobbery kiss, whining at all the stimulation, "m'gonna- shitt," you gasped, jerking when a spark of pleasure shot to your core.

"you cumming again?" he grunted, snapping his hips into yours, your mixed arousal dripping to his balls while they slapped against your slit, "come for me baby, please. make a mess all over my cock, mama," he whimpered, punctuating with a particularly harsh thrust, "give it to me,"

"s'too much, baby please hngg,"

"shhh," he flatted his tongue on the side of your neck, sliding across your skin, "gonna make you feel so good, baby," he promised, "gonna give you what you need. one more. just one more,"

you could barely string a sentence together, "ple-"

the rest of your words were drowned in your wanton moan, as your release rippled through your body, leaving you trembling beneath him.

his hips stuttered as he emptied his cum yet again in your battered pussy, rolling his hips to make sure your spasming cunt took in every drop.

your eyes closed, back relaxing into the mattress as he let your leg fall from his shoulder. rawness shot up your calf from how long your leg had been up in that angle.

he pulled back a little, just enough to look down at you, sprawled out beneath him.

"you look so beautiful like this," he uttered, his voice soft and tender, "all flushed and messy, just for me,"

he reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of your eyes, his gesture a soft caress.

he could feel you quivering beneath him, and he relished the power it gave him, the knowledge that he could make you fall apart.

"you're shaking, baby," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "you okay?"

you nodded, still boneless and shaky from the intensity of your encounter, "no more, please, i can't-" you gulped, feeling how sore your throat had become.

"no more, no more," he conceded, "you did so well, baby," he murmured, his voice low and sweet.

he cupped your cheek, in awe of how he had fucked you senseless. he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your sweaty forehead tenderly, "i'm so proud of you,"

#haikyuu smut #daichi x reader smut #bokuto x reader smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader smut #nishinoya x reader smut #oikawa x reader smut #yamaguchi x reader smut #osamu x reader smut #osamu x reader #hinata x reader smut #kageyama x reader #kageyama x reader smut #haikyuu x reader

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mainblogonly · 1 month ago

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cw: nsfw, sub!reader, implied fem!reader but no pronouns used, slut/doll/sir used

"crawl."

the way he says it causes a shiver through your naked body, up 'til the pretty little collar he just got for you. it's in his favorite color with small diamonds forming his initials on the front. only the best for my obedient little slut, he said as he secured it around your neck.

that was a while ago, and you feel like you've been waiting forever. you've practically been dripping since he texted you that he was on the way home, since he told you to wait for him wearing nothing because he had a surprise for you. from the moment he arrived, you've been on your knees—so obedient, so patient, so good—waiting for him to tell you what to do. this whole time he's been seated on the edge of the bed fully clothed, giving you a clear view of his bulge that you so badly want a taste of.

"don't make me repeat myself, doll," he says, bringing you back to the present.

you blink up at him, your heart starting to race, "yes, sir."

you lean forward, closing the distance between you two. you keep your eyes on him as you move, and you've honestly never felt sexier. his eyes devour the sight of you wearing nothing but his initials on a collar and his cock strains harder against his pants the closer you get and you realize—he's as desperate for you as you are for him.

when you reach him, you sit back on your heels, arch your back, and bat your eyelashes just the way he likes it. after all, if he's going to make you wait, then you're sure as hell going to drive him wild.

"absolutely perfect," he smiles, knowing full well what you're doing. tilting your chin up, he leans forward until your lips are nearly touching,

"are you ready to be even more of a slut for me?"

sakusa, mattsun, kuroo, samu, tendou, meian, tsukishima, ur fav

a/n: 300+ notes on my last drabble omg? consider this as a thank you gift <3

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airybcby · 1 year ago

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Having His Baby

a/n — osamu brainrot is actually insane. not proofread so for sure horrible i wrote this on a whim 🫶🏼

content — nsfw, 18+, osamu x fem! reader, breeding kink, goes back and forth between high school and time skip, reader and osamu are high school sweethearts, reader and osamu are married, mating press, cursing, talk of a pregnancy scare, nicknames(pretty girl, nasty girl, baby, maybe more i forgot), daddy kink if you squint, i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — in high school osamu miya knew you were meant to be a mom, but seven years later he’d finally decided he would make you one himself.

✿.｡.“ screaming but daddy i love him! ”.｡.✿

Osamu always knew you’d be a good mom. From the moment he'd met you in the nurse's office during his first year, you simply radiated that aura. Always so willing to help him every time he and atsumu got in a fight or he got hurt in volleyball — you would drop everything to come help him in the nurse's office.

Sure, it wasn't exactly smart to skip the classes that Osamu needed you in, but that was your job. You were the nurse's student assistant after all.

You hadn't gotten the courage to actually speak to him until his fourth appearance in there, yes you'd given him your number just so he could text if he needed help, but the two of you only texted when he was hurt. (you had no idea how many “you up?” texts he had wanted to send to you to see if you'd respond)

It was an accident really, saying your first real words to him. They were simply out of shock as you saw his lip cut open and his jaw already beginning to bruise, "what happened to you?” you had asked, hand slightly grazing the boy's, now bruised, jaw.

That was a million years ago in Osamu’s mind, while it really had only been seven. So much had changed since he first met you, you started dating not soon after, and then he'd married you, he’d opened his own onigiri business, and it all led here — to the two of you cooking in the kitchen. " ‘samu, can you get me a bowl? There's none in the drying rack and my hands are dirty.” your cute voice broke him out of the weird trance he was under as he watched you work. “Anything for you baby.” he cooed as he reached over your head and grabbed a clean bowl for you.

Everything was always clean in your shared home, which shouldn't have been a bad thing— except it was to Osamu. As a kid, he remembered him and Atsumu making various messes whether it be with liquids or even drawing on the walls- their home was very rarely clean. Osamu loved and appreciated everything you did for the house, but the ache to have kids that would make simple messes prodded at him more often than he would've liked to admit. He remembered the first time he brought kids up to you in high school during second year.

“ ya ever think about havin' kids? ” he asked as the both of you lay in his bed, his TV just droning on as background noise since the two of you had been talking the entire time. “Hmm…sometimes. I have dreams that we have kids- twins actually,” you admitted. Your raw and honest confession shouldn't have had his cock stirring in his pants the way it did, “Really?” he asked as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, imagining your stomach all round with his children, not one child, but twins. “Yeah, and they look like you,” you said simply, hands finding their way to his dyed locs and running through them. That conversation made Osamu Miya realize that he would rather die than not have kids with you. (and that he had a breeding kink but he found that far too embarrassing to tell you)

When you press the spoon to Osamus's mouth is when he suddenly comes back to the present, “Open samu, need my favorite person to make sure it tastes good.” you smiled as the man opened his mouth and allowed you to feed him— which only made him think of you feeding a baby - your baby. The male nodded as he pulled away from the spoon, “tastes good baby.” He wasn’t lying, it did taste good- but maybe the thought of you feeding a child made his mind a bit fuzzy. “thank goodness, it’s a new recipe, so I was really worried.” you gave your husband a smile as you turned back around, grabbing the bowl osamu had gotten you.

Maybe it was the high school memories coming back to him, or maybe it was him thinking about how the house was always spotless, hell— perhaps it was because you just looked so cute right now with your apron around your waist and spoon in hand. Whatever it was, Osamu couldn’t help the ache he felt in his pants, coming behind you and placing his hands on your stomach. “ ‘Yer so cute…”

“mhm, thank you, baby. you’re real cute too.” you smiled as you tilted your head up, giving him a quick peck on the chin. As you returned to what you were doing, filling bowls with the soup you had made for dinner, Osamu pressed himself against you, his hard-on very prominent. As much as you could’ve tried to ignore him, your husband always got his way when it came to you, “ ‘Samu dinners ready…” you said as you pressed your back into his chest- face beginning to heat up.

“ it can wait…need you right now-” usually your husband was a kind, patient man (except when he ‘had’ to fuck you in the back room of onigiri miya when you brought him some lunch) “You’d be such a good mommy…so good to our babies.” the male muttered against your hair, grabbing your waist and grinding against your clothed cunt. a small moan fell from your lips, “ ‘s-samu! it’ll get cold-”

It wasn’t like you were oblivious to Osamu's want for kids, in your third year you and Osamu had had a pregnancy scare. While many other 18-year-old boys would’ve probably been relieved seeing that one line on the pregnancy test, Osamu felt some strange emptiness and disappointment. sure, it wasn’t ideal to be teen parents, but he couldn’t figure out why he so badly wanted you to have his baby. It was on that same day that he figured out he didn’t want a professional volleyball career, no he wanted to have a true career that let him be home with you as often as he could be (so he could knock you up.) ever since that day, every time you passed the baby section in a store- his eyes would glaze over and he’d mention how tiny the shoes and clothes were, and you’d talked about kids- but never were you guys actually ‘trying’ for a baby.

“ jus’ reheat it,” Osamu mumbled as he picked you up, strong hands that still hold proof of his years of playing volleyball and now being a professional chef digging into the underside of your thighs. Your house wasn’t large in the slightest, but the minute it took for him to carry you felt like it took an eternity. The second Osamu’s foot crossed over the barrier of your shared bedroom- his lips were on yours. The kiss was downright disgusting, spit being shared as his tongue invaded your mouth, leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulled away. “ so pretty…” he mumbled as he carried you over to the bed, using one of his hands to untie the apron that hugged your waist in a way that turned his brain to mush.

Osamu groaned as he pulled off your shirt, seeing that you had no bra on, “you knew this was gon’ happen didn’t ya pretty?” he asked as skillfully he pulled his gray shirt off with one hand, making you squirm under his intense gaze. “n-no I just-” but Osamu didn’t want to hear your excuses, there was no need for them now. his hand quickly pushed you down to where your back met the mattress, lips puckering around one of your nipples as he played with your other one. he wasn’t much of a boob man, much rather enjoying your ass, but even he couldn’t stop the images of your tits full of milk from invading his mind. he let out a groan as he looked up at you, hand covering your mouth as you watched him- face flushed in arousal and maybe some embarrassment. “let me hear you pretty girl.” he came up and caught your lips in another kiss, hand sneaking down to the waistband of your his shorts and pulling them off of your legs in one quick movement. if there was one thing about Osamu Miya, it was that he knew how to get you undressed in a matter of seconds.

You instinctively tried closing your legs, but Osamu knew you too well, his knee already finding solace between your legs as he pulled away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting the two of you as he looked down at you. “fuck baby…look at how wet you are,” you let out a small moan as he ran a finger over your clothed cunt, your panties becoming insanely wet as you reached down and grabbed his wrist. “please ‘samu, need you…” you begged as you shook your head. “want you in me-”

Now usually your husband wasn’t the type to fuck you without fingering you or (his favorite) eating you out, but right now his cock was begging to be freed from the confines of his jeans. “my pretty girl…”he mumbled as he pulled off your panties, a string of arousal connecting to you, making him let out a groan. “need to fuck ya right now…” and Osamu made good on his word, quickly getting rid of his jeans and boxers, cock springing to life- making you moan as you saw it. it didn’t matter how many times you’d seen Osamu in his bare glory, it always made you want to thank whatever gods decided you were good enough for him.

You remembered in high school when the two of you had first had sex, both inexperienced as you tried figuring out what position worked for the both of you and accidentally breaking his bed— something atsumu never lets you forget.

Osamu groaned as his tip met your entrance, staring at you with those bedroom eyes that were like a remedy to any problem you ever had,chest heaving as he stopped himself from shoving into you- wanting you to be ready for him. “please samu…need it so bad-” you cried out as you reached up to his neck, moaning as you brought him down for another kiss. osamu miya was nothing if not a gentleman who listened to his wife, pushing into your hole and bottoming out almost immediately, groaning against your lips,“still so tight fa me, huh baby?” the moan you let out was almost pornographic, back arching into your husband,“ fuck! S-samu!” you cried out, legs wrapping around his waist.

Sure, Osamu could’ve been nice and given you time to adjust to him like he usually did, but who had time for that when he needed to get you pregnant tonight? The male groaned as he took your legs and pushed them to where your knees were pressed against your chest, making him feel extra deep, “s-samu!” you cried out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “yer so pretty, baby, my pretty girl…”osamu mumbled to himself. he didn’t even give you a warning before pulling out and slamming back into you, letting out his own moan as your nails scratched into his back.

You’d always been sensitive when it came to osamu, but never had you felt him this deep inside of you before, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. “feel me, baby? gonna get you pregnant, full of my cum.”osamu pressed down on your stomach as he thrust in and out of you in a rhythm you knew all too well. you tried answering him, truly you did, but even two seconds with Osamu into your cunt made you brain dead. “mhm-” was the only word you could make, giving your husband a small laugh as he looked down at you.

“Fucked ya dumb already pretty girl? C'mon, know ya got more in ya-” The teasing tone in his voice made you want to cry, but some sick sort of enjoyment of being embarrassed held back those tears. you looked so pretty under Osamu, your wedding ring adorning your finger as your hair was messily sprawled out beneath you with your knees pushed to your chest. Osamu thought he could take a mental picture and have enough spank bank material for three months, at least.

“Gonna cum- ah samu!” you whined out, nails scratching down your husband's back. Osamu let out a groan, maybe he should give you more money to get your nails done, because the short acrylics you have on scraping down his back made him want to short circuit. “cum for me baby, gonna look so good filled with my cum.” Osamu was on the brink of his release, groaning as he brought a hand down to finally rub your clit, giving you the final push to let go. you moaned out his name over and over, even slipping a small ‘daddy’ in the chant of words. With that one word, you made Osamu want to blow his load- feeling his hips stutter before stilling inside of you and releasing his cum. you whined as you felt him fill you up, your husband had always came a lot- but something about right now- this singular moment- made him give you everything he had.

Osamu looked down where the two of you were connected, seeing his and your cum mixing as it spilled out around his cock,“ fuck…” he said as he pulled out watching as more seeped out of your abused cunt. it would be a waste if you didn’t keep it all in, though. Osamu hummed as he fingered the cum back into you, making you let out a gasp from how overstimulated you already were.

“gotta make sure it sticks, baby.”

✿.｡.“ i’m having his baby ”.｡.✿

if you can’t tell, i love the miyas.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

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forusomimiya · 1 year ago

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@coyloves ship & prompt: “Look how messy you are” w/ Osamu Miya ˚₊˚✧🍙✧˖°🍂

"I've been thinking about bending you over this table and just having my way with you" His knuckles caressed your chin before he gripped your jaw and made your head tilt to the opposite side of his face, to have easier access to your neck and kiss it. He smiled when he felt you straighten up, product of shivering. "You like the idea?" you thought you nodded, but it was so subtle your movement that it was enough for Osamu to understand that when you were speechless, it was because you found his proposal more than decent.

It wasn't the first time you had sex in the store. The routine would end up being the same as all the other times before: Osamu wooing you until he had you right where he wanted you, clumsy hands caressing each other's body, quick and warm kisses, and discretion in moaning so he could pay attention to the door bell in case Kita came carrying bags of rice. The last time was fun, despite the fact that you almost got caught red-handed.

"We should be quick."

"Yeah" Osamu said in a sarcastic tone. "I can see you're in a hurry" He pointed his gaze at the wetness in your panties, licking his lips, holding back from touching you still. "Look how messy you are".

"Samu! are you even listening to me?"

"I'm trying to pay attention, but you're just too sexy. Not gonna lie."

"Then, tell me what you want me to do" His grayish eyes bore into yours, able to read what they expressed.

Then Osamu lifted you up and sat you on the cold marble table of the warehouse, taking a quick glance at your body, stunned by the beauty of your curves, savoring them in his mind, decanting and amusing himself with his favorite parts.

"Let me hear your beautiful moans a second time today, darling" His thumbs played with the inside of your thighs, spreading them open, allowing a glimpse beneath them of your chubby pussy. "Hah… shit" He exhaled excitedly. His hips rocked forward instinctively, needing to have you lying there on your back for him, legs spread wide.

The throbbing in his chest began to ache as you lay back on the table and circled his hips drawing him to you, pulling your shirt up and exposing your large breasts squeezed into your bra.

"You're going to fuck me?"

"Fuck… Of course I do" In a quick set of hands, Osamu unclasped your bra as he worked his way under your boxers, reaching for his cock and pumping it a couple of times while his mouth was distracted with your breasts. He didn't skimp on making as much noise as possible as he savored and kneaded them at the same time, sucking your nipples and pinching them on his lips before releasing them. "They are so perfect… just mine" He kneaded relentlessly, and when he noticed that his cock was about to burst through his underwear, he released it as best he could, —caused by nervousness and quickness by the impatience of being inside you—, and pushing aside your panties, he entered you ever so slowly without losing sight of the expression on your face as he filled you.

"Atta girl, fucking your boss in his own warehouse, huh?"

He settled into a steady rhythm, and cursed himself for not having taken you earlier at that table. The movements of your body in response to his thrusts were something Osamu had yet to deal with. The bouncing of your tits followed by pithy gasps flooded his mind so quickly and directly, that in order to speed up the command his brain sent to his cock, he had to take possession of your hips and lighten the pace. His mind clouded as your insides tightened and his ears filled with his cursed name, thus ignoring —though not willingly—, your warning you were cumming. Osamu forgot the discretion agreed upon at the beginning and made sure to fuck you in the roughest way, letting anyone planning to enter the store know that he was busy to attend to any customers or receive any packages.

Maybe that day, the "closed" sign would remain hanging on the door for another hour.

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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year ago

Text

a bit dirty - ch6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you sure are,” he says, warmly.

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

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

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

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

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout.

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

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

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

and you still don’t feel like a guest.

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

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

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

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“stop that,” you hush him.

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

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

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

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

“you are,” you argue.

/\ /\ /\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“not possible,” you say back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/\ /\ /\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“samu,” you whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

and he can’t.

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

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

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

“what now?” you mumble, not moving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you look happy there.

you look really happy there.

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

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

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

#osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #osamu x reader smut #hq x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haiykuu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader smut #osamu x reader fluff #osamu fluff #osamu fic #hq fic #toriwritesshit #abd update!

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isimplyamasimp · 2 months ago

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Im being so honest rn

Cant convince me Osamu Miya is not a munch that man would devour yall so quick and would say thank you 😭🙏🏻 need some1 to write me sum w/dis

#osamu x reader smut #osamu miya x reader smut #osamu miya

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sukumna · 3 months ago

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┌─ ⟢ HAIKYUU PORN LINKS

𐔌─ cw. porn links. don’t like just scroll. inspired by this post i wrote !

𐔌─ characters. bokuto. osamu. suna. iwaizumi. atsumu

— BOKUTO KOUTAROU and passionate, almost desperate sex.

bokuto and his breeding kink | him shoving his cum back into you | bokuto is just so much bigger than you | this sums up bokuto koutarou in one video

— MIYA OSAMU and laid back possessive sex.

he’s the only one who’ll ever fuck your ass | osamu loves pussy jobs | an ass person through and through | his favorite video you guys ever made | possessive kisses

— SUNA RINTAROU and lazy, teasing, “you’re mine” sex.

make out sesh with suna is the best type of foreplay | you definitely sent this to his annoying ex after you were done | sunarin’s lazy self love to make you ride him | suna pounding you after you complain that you always do all the work

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME and frustration-fueled sex.

you can’t handle the way iwa fucks you | having a personal trainer as a bf definitely has its perks, his stamina and strength is unmatched | iwa loves looking at your face crumble as he fucks you | ridin iwa’s girthy cock after an argument

— MIYA ATSUMU and teasing, ‘we shouldn’t be doin this’ sex.

atsumu n you doing a quickie in the car right before practice | best friend atsumu stretching you out n filling you up before sending you on your date | he can’t help teasing his whiney baby | tsumu loves filming you

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #osamu x reader #suna x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyuu smut #suna smut #bokuto smut #atsumu smut #osamu smut #iwaizumi smut #p links

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pin-k-ink · 2 months ago

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MUSCLE MEMORY ⋆✦⋆ miya osamu

synopsis ➸ he was drunk when you called, but he sobered up the second he heard your voice. you said it was a mistake, that you didn’t mean to dial him—but he was already on his way. six months later, he’s still in your living room, dragging out every screw and instruction manual like it’ll keep you from asking him to leave.

tags ➸ exes to lovers, divorce, mutual pining, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, mentions of night terrors, making out, pda, dry humping, breèding kínk, hand job, unprotected sèx, nípple play, riding, praise kínk, dírty talking, creámpie

wc ➸ 12.4k

The sandpaper rasp of the wrench twisting into place sawed through Osamu's mental haze. He paused, squinting down at the befuddling array of components fanned out across your living room floor. What the hell was he even working on now? A dresser maybe? Or was this the start of that ludicrously ornate entertainment center you'd ordered last week?

With a frustrated grunt, he raked a meaty palm down his face, grinding the heels into his eye sockets until stars burst across his vision. Didn't matter what useless hunk of IKEA crap it was - the process remained the same damn song and dance every time. You'd call him in a mild panic over being hopelessly lost, he'd show up grumbling insults about your household incompetence under his breath, then inevitably succumb to staying and handling the entire assembly from start to finish.

All because of that one fateful night nearly six months ago when you'd called without thinking, voice soft and contented in a way that gutted Osamu completely.

"Hey babe, think you could come over and help me put this new coffee table together?"

The endearment had slipped out so effortlessly, luring images of the thousands of other mundane evenings he'd reported for wifely summons over the years. How many times had you greeted him just like that after work, beckoning him over to lend his hands to whatever domestic task needed handling while you puttered around your warm, chaotic little home?

He'd frozen with the phone still cradled against his ear, a penny whiskey and lingering self-loathing temporarily displaced by blinding white confusion. That single careless "babe" ricocheted through his alcohol-addled senses like a gunshot. Osamu replayed the words over and over, hunting for any hint of mockery or jest in your gentle tones. But there was none to be found - only the breezy assumption that he would, of course, be heading your way like always when called upon.

"...Osamu?" Your hesitant inquiry several beats later had him flinching violently, nearly dropping his glass in the process. Somehow you'd already sensed your mistake, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "Oh god, I shouldn't have just—we're not—I mean, I know you're not my husband anymore, forget I asked..."

But he hadn't forgotten. Hadn't processed or responded at all, really - just let the stunned inertia carry him forward for once instead of railing instinctively against it. His body moved on autopilot while your clumsy apologies filtered through the dense cotton shrouding his mind. Keys plucked from the dish. Jacket shrugged on over his rumpled sweats. The rote motions of preparing to head out and placate your helplessness all over again, divorce papers be damned.

The words finally came in a gruff rush only after Osamu was already pulling his truck out onto the main road.

"Just send me yer address. Be there soon."

He had no justification for the abrupt decision, no reasoned explanation. Maybe it was sheer impulse driven by a lifetime of conditioning to provide for you. Or perhaps there was some profoundly deeper current swirling beneath his dependably cynical surface that wouldn't allow the separation to sever such intrinsic responses completely. Either way, Osamu was powerless to resist its undertow - and he found he didn't want to fight it as he steered towards your place with a hollow ache spreading through his chest.

That first visit was supposed to be an outlier, the exception to shut down any further relapses in domesticity. Yet somehow, it had quickly spiraled into a new normal. Every time you inevitably dialed his number with a hapless plea for assistance, he reflexively found himself throwing on shoes and grabbing his toolbox without preamble. Often he was already halfway to your door before bothering to rationalize it or talk himself out of enabling this pathetic pattern you'd lapsesd into.

Week after week, month after month, the excuses and pretenses became flimsier and flimsier. At first, he told himself it was pure ego driving him to show up - that he derived some sick satisfaction from giving you hell about being so helpless on your own without him around to pick up the pieces. Look at your dumb ex-wife, can't even follow basic IKEA diagrams!

But the more jobs he completed with that same well-worn song and dance, the less weight the cruel taunts carried. His insults grew increasingly toothless, more like ingrained preambles out of sheer habit than any genuine derision. Until finally, Osamu was forced to confront the awful truth clawing at his ribcage each time he walked back into your space:

He simply couldn't resist the unconscious pull of being your husband again, even briefly and in this limited scope of handyman duties. Maybe it was masochistic, allowing himself to sink back into those waters of domesticity he used to drown in daily before everything went to shit between you. Or maybe he was just weak in ways he'd never admit - still not fully untangled from the intoxicating gravity of your combined existence.

Whichever justification rang truest, the outcome was the same. Osamu let himself become utterly unmoored by the mindless allure of being summoned to your side again, no matter how much he pretended it was an unwanted imposition. Because in those moments of cursing and hammering and careful assemblage, everything felt temporarily right in a way it hadn't for what felt like eons. Just him, sweat gathering along his hairline as he handled tools with a familiar easy cadence. And you, pottering nearby with a ready supply of beverages and off-hand encouragement to keep his steady rhythm flowing.

It was all so painfully, disarmingly unchanged whenever he willingly shed his lone wolf persona and stepped back into his vacated role at your side. That fact alone should have stripped Osamu of any lingering delusions - the harrowing intimation that perhaps he hadn't actually let go of being your partner in all the ways that mattered most, no matter how many years or court proceedings stated otherwise.

Yet whenever he found himself standing before your disheveled array of particle-board and scattered allen wrenches, Osamu couldn't resist the same tired refrain from echoing across his brooding inner monologue:

"Gonna take me at least a few weeks to get this mess put together proper. Might as well get comfortable, sweetheart..."

The endearment slipped out unconsciously, as natural as breathing. Osamu didn't even flinch at it anymore - just accepted the treacherously effortless backslide into old habits wherever you were concerned. Because in reality, this ramshackle plywood monstrosity wouldn't take him longer than a few hours, max, to fully assemble and have operational.

He was lying through his teeth about the projected timeline, and you both knew it. But you never called him on the flimsy ruse, just accepted each revised delay with a bemused look and fresh supply of cold barley tea awaiting Osamu's eventual break. As if you inherently understood that he was grasping at straws to prolong these rare interludes of domesticity for as long as possible.

The first time you'd moved to fetch your purse and peel off some cash to compensate him for his troubles, Osamu hadn't even thought - just reacted. One large, calloused palm engulfed your smaller one before it could fully withdraw from your bag. He drew it towards his chest, splaying your fingers over the steady thrum of his heartbeat through the thin cotton barrier.

"Don't even think about it, dummy," he'd rasped, the gentle admonishment at odds with the gruff delivery. "Ya know damn well I ain't here for money."

The words hung pregnant with unspoken depths between you, a fragile tension replacing the usual playful bickering. For a fleeting moment, Osamu thought you might draw away, might finally put a stop to this peculiar pattern of his with a soft yet firm rebuke.

Instead, you simply watched him with those infinitely familiar eyes that still gutted him regularly - open and searching and far too understanding for his liking. Then you nodded once, just slightly, and allowed your hand to linger against the frantic cadence of his pulse until he released you.

Since that evening, a sort of tenuous equilibrium had settled over your strange arrangement. You never moved to leave Osamu to his own devices anymore when he played dumb about needing "more time" with a project. Just accepted his continued presence hovering around your space with all the routinized nonchalance of a spouse moving through their own home.

He, in turn, no longer fought the subtle shifts that pulled him deeper and deeper into the reassuring gravities of old patterns. Like watching you haphazardly toss off your mismatched fuzzy socks in a meandering trail from doorway to kitchen before puttering about with whatever domestic task you pleased. Or the easy silence that embraced you both as Osamu worked, punctuated only by his quiet curses or the clinking of a fresh beverage being deposited within his reaching range.

Some nights, the easiness extended even into your kitchen as he prowled barefoot through the cramped galley, fully re-immersed in the role of putting together a meal for you both. Not out of any sense of obligation or guilt, but simply because the mindless ritual of cooking for your household came as second nature after so many years' practice.

Osamu couldn't resist sneaking glances over his shoulder to watch you curled up on the sofa, bare feet tucked beneath you and attention divided between whatever book or video you had playing and the soothing sounds of him working nearby. In those flickering moments illuminated by the soft glow of lamps and candles, everything felt so oppressively, deliriously right - like stepping directly back into the warm embrace of the past in a way Osamu hadn't experienced since your world was upended.

Some nights, he let himself pretend none of it had ever changed. That walking through the front door wouldn't eventually mean a jarring return to his cavernously empty apartment and the ever-encroaching loneliness lately. That this suspended illusion of being your partner again could simply stretch on indefinitely, leaving him gloriously unmoored.

Denial was a hell of a drug, as they said. But Osamu had always been a hopeless addict when it came to you.

The vanity's cumbersome weight settled onto the bedroom floor with a muted thud, scuffing pale marks into the worn hardwood. Osamu straightened, rolling his shoulders to work out the lingering knots as he surveyed his handiwork. Not too shabby, all things considered - the ornate piece looked damn near regal set against the soft blue-grey walls.

He blew out a low whistle, dragging his arm across his sweat-beaded brow as he pivoted to scope out the rest of your bedroom for the first time. Despite all the weeks and odd jobs he'd tackled around your new place, this particular sanctuary had remained off-limits until now. Part of him had unconsciously avoided crossing that line out of respect for boundaries, no matter how blurred they'd become elsewhere.

But now that he stood amidst the intimately personal space, hints of your essence seemed to permeate every particle. The delicate woven throw draped artfully across the overstuffed armchair in the corner. The collection of well-loved books haphazardly stacked on the nightstand, their cracked spines and dog-eared pages testaments to being revisited often. Even the subtly floral fragrance woven through the summer-breezy air unmistakably belonged to you.

Osamu inhaled deeply, letting the soothing familiarity of it all momentarily envelope him as he dragged his analytical gaze across each detail, cataloging and filing away the pieces of you on display. That's when his sweeping perusal stuttered to a halt, brow furrowing slightly as realization struck like an anvil weight in his gut.

There was no bed.

He did another slow pivot, eyes roving every inch of the spacious room as if expecting the absence of something so fundamental to materialize out of sheer obstinate scrutiny. But no matter which way he turned and looked again, the bare reality remained - no bed, no mattress, nothing more than the solitary armchair and vanity occupying the wide-open floorspace.

A harsh slew of curses broke from Osamu's lips before he could rein them in. Of course...of fucking course you didn't have a proper bed set up yet. He was peripherally aware of your sleeping situation - if the ramshackle state of your living room sofa quilted with ratty blankets and travel pillows was any indication. But standing here confronted by the harsh truth amidst these walls meant to be a sanctuary hurtled the implication home with stunning finality.

He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, mouth twisting bitterly as flashes of repressed memories flickered across his mindscape. Of you curled up in the dead of night, whimpering and shaking, whole body quivering from the thrall of another night terror. How you'd instinctively burrowed against him for safety, for the solid reassurance of his bulk and soothing murmurs easing you back from the brink. Neither of you had ever acknowledged those visceral moments of vulnerability, but he knew - knew how terrified you were of the dark and of sleeping alone with only your unquiet mind for company.

That was just the first of a whole cavalcade of realizations rapidly crashing over Osamu in waves of nauseous comprehension. With no bedframe, there was no tucking you in each night and drawing you close, surrounding your slight body with his familiar warmth and protective embrace until your racing heart calmed. No nuzzling your sleep-tousled hair and breathing in those first soft, earthy exhalations in the morning before extracting himself and padding off to put on a fresh pot of coffee. The way you'd always loved waking up to its rich aroma wafting from the kitchen no matter how early Osamu rose.

No more startling upright at the smallest creak or groan of your home settling around you, every noise an intruder until Osamu made a sweeping check and eased you back down with a reassuring murmur that it was just the house, just the old frame contracting with the night's chill. No more of him lumbering up in the darkness to find the latest unfortunate creepy-crawly invader and dispatch of it before returning to tuck you securely back under the covers, soothing your shudders with warm palms and featherlight kisses until you drifted off again.

Just...no more intimacies and routines and domesticities that had shaped so much of Osamu's purpose for well over a decade, now unceremoniously stripped away by your separation.

The realization left him feeling as though all the air had been forcibly drawn from his lungs in one punishing exhale. He doubled over with the force of it, knuckles blanching against the glossy vanity's sleek countertop as he struggled to draw breath. Of course he'd been aware of the changes, the rifts now severing what had once been such an intrinsic part of sharing your lives. But coming face-to-face with this empty bedroom and how bereft of true comfort it clearly was for you sliced right through to something primal and protective deep in Osamu's psyche.

"Hey, dinner's ready whenever you're done brooding over there!"

Your lighthearted call shattered through the spiraling vortex of Osamu's troubled thoughts. He straightened abruptly, disoriented for a beat before the rich, homey scents wafting in from the kitchen reoriented him. Right, you'd mentioned putting together a meal for the both of you once he finished up for the evening.

Dragging in a deep, steadying breath, Osamu willed his turbulent emotions into an infinitesimal box to be violently suppressed for now. He couldn't allow the anguished maelstrom of domesticity's absence to show on his face, not when you were so close and oblivious to his inner torment. With a few raking swipes of his palms down his sweat-damp face, he drew himself up to his full imposing height and turned towards the doorway.

The sight that awaited him in the cramped kitchen archway very nearly unraveled Osamu's hard-won composure all over again.

There you stood in your usual cooking attire - one of his old oversized t-shirts from high school, the faded cotton bunched up around your hips and showcasing your bare legs all the way down to those ridiculous mismatched fuzzy socks you always insisted on wearing. Your hair was piled in a messy topknot, loose tendrils framing your face and catching the soft evening light in a glowing halo.

You looked...so achingly familiar. So reminiscent of the thousands of other evenings Osamu had returned home from the restaurant or the gym or wherever to find you pottering around your shared living space in that same casually intimate state of undress. Completely comfortable and unguarded in a way very few ever got to witness - the purely domestic you that he'd committed to loving and cherishing until the end of his days.

And now here you were, existing in that same warm cocoon of homemaker contentment but utterly bereft of his steadying presence as the other counterweight. The gorgeous tableau you made standing there stirring something on the stovetop with your bare feet tucked up under you felt hauntingly, tragically incomplete in a way that put Osamu's throat in a vise.

His gaze roamed over the flex of your arms as you lifted the spoon to your lips for a taste, the elegant curve of your spine as you shifted your weight from foot to foot - all the tiny, quotidian details he'd once memorized so thoroughly they felt like extensions of his own body. Little snapshots of life and movement he'd once gotten to observe and admire as freely and unguardedly as he pleased, because you had belonged irrevocably to one another.

Now that simple pleasure - the artless intimacy of basking in each other's natural state - was forbidden him apart from these fleeting glimpses stolen under the pretense of being your handyman. Osamu felt reality crashing back down in waves of visceral grief sharpened by the purgatory of never fully losing this aspect of you, yet constantly having it daringly daunt just beyond his yearning reach.

A lump swelled in his throat as images began flickering through his mind, each one more haunting than the last. Of you succumbing to winter's vicious chills with no one there to wrap you in fortifying layers and nourishing soup broth to fight off illness. Of slipping and taking a nasty spill down the narrow staircase without his steadying arm to cling to, lying there helpless and alone until you could drag yourself to a phone for emergency assistance. Of bolting awake in the dead of night with your heart jackhammering from some terror-soaked nightmare, hands scrabbling for purchase and finding nothing but empty sheets and darkness to compound the panic.

Worst of all were the flashes of you simply...existing in a state of isolated loneliness, surrounded by this hollow house that was supposed to be a sanctuary but instead formed yet another reminder of Osamu's absence. Of his failure to be there for you the way he'd once sworn to the farthest stars.

Before he could spiral entirely, your melodic voice anchored him back to the present moment at hand.

"Earth to Osamu?" You grinned over your shoulder, luminous eyes sparkling with a gentleness that sucker-punched him squarely in the gut. "You getting that broody look again cause something's too complicated for those big strong hands of yours?"

The teasing lilt was feather-light and lilting - so fondly familiar that for a single delirious heartbeat, Osamu could actually convince himself nothing had changed between you. That this was all just another evening unfolding like the millions preceding it throughout your long history together.

Then reality came crashing back down, that infinitesimal box of suppressed emotion cracking open until acidic undertows were lapping at his ribs with every inhale. Osamu sucked in a harsh breath through his nostrils, jaw clenching hard enough to grind enamel as he struggled to reign himself back in.

"Very funny," he managed at last, aiming for nonchalance but hearing the ragged edges fringing his tone nonetheless. "You got a mouth on you tonight, that's for sure."

Rather than rising to the bait and firing off another salvo of playful barbs, you simply hummed thoughtfully before turning back to your cooking endeavors. Osamu watched, feeling increasingly disoriented by the casual domesticity, as you deftly transferred portions to waiting dishes and carried everything to the small dining table in the adjacent room.

"Well c'mon then, no need to make yourself a stranger!" you called over your shoulder with a grin. "That vanity won't be ready to use until you've refueled for the night."

The lilting words wrapped around Osamu's senses, both grounding and disorienting him further into a dizzying vortex of memories and yearning and desperate, crippling fear.

Dinner proved to be even more torturous than Osamu could have anticipated. Seated across from you at the cramped little dining table, he found himself repeatedly clenching his jaw and fists to restrain from simply reaching out and clasping your hand in his. To twine those deft fingers with his own calloused ones and revel in the featherlight caress of your pulse fluttering against his wrist.

You carried on with breezy conversation, utterly oblivious to the brutally visceral war he was waging to keep from shattering every pretense between you. With each lilting anecdote and bright peal of laughter, Osamu's resolve fractured further - hairline cracks spiderwebbing outwards from his restraint's foundations. By the time you rose to start clearing dishes, his composure hung by a few bare threads.

He watched with bated breath as you padded around the kitchen, hips swaying in that unconsciously hypnotic rhythm he'd admired for over a decade. The column of your throat worked with each swallow, clavicles casting distracting shadows that drew Osamu's heated stare like a magnet. Resisting the overwhelming urge to simply cross the scant distance separating you and wrap himself around your pliant form was swiftly becoming an exercise in agony.

You paused by the sink, back to him as you efficiently rinsed the first plate. The soft sounds of running water and your quiet humming curled around the nape of Osamu's neck, sending goosebumps rippling across his flesh. His fingertips twitched with yearning to reach out and ghost along the elegant inward curve of your waist, palms settling possessively on the flare of your hips to tug you snug against his chest. He could perfectly envision nuzzling into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, lips skating across the hammering pulse point as you shivered and instinctively arched back into his embrace...

Osamu's throat clicked with a muffled groan as he abruptly shoved away from the table, scattering the remaining dishes in his haste to create distance before he could surrender to the impulse clawing at his ribcage. The harsh screech of wood on tile finally made you turn, blinking owlishly at him.

"Everything okay?" The words were innocent enough, but Osamu flinched like he'd been struck. Didn't you realize what you were doing to him with even the slightest movement or vocal caress?

"I—yeah. Just...gonna get a head start cleaning up the rest of that mess." He gestured vaguely at the half-assembled vanity parts still strewn in the living room to divert your questioning stare. You hummed in acknowledgment before returning your focus to the sink and dishwater.

It took every ounce of Osamu's waning self-restraint not to immediately retreat right then as planned. Instead, some masochistic impulse rooted him to the spot, gaze helplessly drinking in every curve and subtle shift of your body at work. The nearly irrepressible compulsion to wrap you up in his arms and relearn each dip and swell with hands and mouth was becoming a physical ache, radiating from the cradle of his hips.

By the time the final dish clattered into the drying rack, Osamu felt positively feverish - a maelstrom of need and desperation simmering beneath his clenched jaw and white-knuckled fists. He watched with rapt hunger as you turned towards him once more, swiping loose tendrils of hair back from your flushed cheeks. At the first glimpse of your softened features and those infinitely gentle eyes regarding him, a tremor shivered through Osamu's broad frame.

"So..." you began, seemingly unaware of the storm roiling behind his rigor-tight exterior. "That should just about do it for assembling everything I needed help with, yeah?"

Your words were like the death knell, reverberating through Osamu in waves of wretched comprehension. Whatever dizzying spiral of domesticated bliss he'd spun himself into was about to end. This illusion of being your husband and provider again, however fleeting, would shatter permanently the instant he returned to the barren, yawning silence of his own empty apartment. And some small, wretched part of him wasn't sure he would survive the transition emotionally intact a second time.

Osamu tried and failed to formulate a response around the steadily constricting vise encircling his throat. He simply stared at you mutely, gut clenching with all the farewells and protestation scalding at the back of his tongue. Don't make me leave. Don't eject me from this little world we've reconstructed and straight back into the bone-deep loneliness, not yet. I'm not ready—

"Hey." Your soft murmur coaxed Osamu's awareness back to the present just as you'd begun tentatively closing the distance between you. Your palms cupped his bristled cheeks with infinite tenderness, calloused thumbs sweeping in gentle arcs. "This was...really, really amazing of you, you know. Coming through for me again and again like this despite everything. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to properly thank you for—"

The gentleness in your tone and the exquisite warmth of your touch against his skin proved to be Osamu's ultimate undoing. With a harsh rumble torn from the depths of his sternum, he surged forward and engulfed you in the circle of his arms - swift and utterly inescapable. You made a soft sound of surprise quickly swallowed by the solid wall of his chest as he crushed you against his painfully rigid frame.

"Don't..." Osamu rasped out the single syllable with such gruff vehemence that you instinctively froze in his unrelenting embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut, savoring the feel of you - so achingly familiar yet electrically new after weeks of deprivation. The scent of your hair, the pliant curves yielding to his unyielding musculature, the stutter of your startled inhalations puffing against the bare skin of his throat. It was intoxicating, dizzying, devastating in equal measure.

"Don't you dare thank me," he managed at last in a low rasp against the crown of your head. His words vibrated into the very marrow of you with their quiet intensity. "Like I'm some stranger doin' you a favor instead of..."

Instead of what? His wife, his partner, his entire goddamn world until the cosmos decided to twist the knife a little deeper? The sentiment clung bitterly to the back of Osamu's tongue, sullen truth cloying in his throat until he swallowed hard against it. No words could adequately capture the depths of what you were to him in this moment, wholly encompassed in his arms once more.

With a shuddering inhale against your hair, Osamu simply allowed himself to sink further into the comforting abyss of holding you so intimately. This was what he'd been so desperately aching for all along - not the mere ability to lend his capable hands in putting together inanimate pieces of your new life, but the privilege of simply being present as a visceral part of it once more. Of slipping so seamlessly back into being your steadying anchor, your shelter against the world's crueler contradictions that you fought so admirably to rise above.

Time seemed to melt and blur around the two of you frozen together in the dimly lit kitchen as a galaxy of contradictions warred behind Osamu's eyes. He breathed you in with every lungful, each molecule of your essence searing straight through to scorch his withered soul. Memories flickered like dying embers - thousands of other embraces shared over countless evenings, each as mundane and life-alteringly significant as this one.

Yet in the same breath, this felt profoundly and irrevocably unprecedented between you - the first time since your legal separation that Osamu had dared clutch you with such brazen, unguarded yearning. As if enveloping your pliant form was the only talisman still binding him to reality, to whatever remnants of purpose and identity were inextricably tethered to simply...being yours. And you his, despite the distance contrived to render the notion dead letters on a decree.

The thud of Osamu's rabbit-kicking pulse reverberated through every inch of his suffocating embrace. Each hammering cadence seemed to scream the same lament - Never leave me again, don't make me surrender you and this world we've only just reconstructed. I can't, I won't, don't ask me to—

His silent inner turmoil must have vibrated outwards, bleeding into the aura of frantic desperation enveloping you both. For you made another small, unintelligible sound against Osamu's heaving chest that sparked like a livewire to his nerve endings.Instinctively, he stiffened his arms into unforgiving bands until you were utterly subsumed within him. As if the slightest allowance of space would mean your immediate, irrevocable loss forever more.

Then, with a ragged exhalation escaping his gritted teeth, Osamu reluctantly dragged his lashes apart and allowed his forehead to drop against yours. Your faces hovered achingly close, close enough for your trembling breaths to mingle and eyes to blur together into a universe of their own making. Little more than a hairsbreadth separated your primed lips, Osamu's gaze fixated on the infinitely delicate swell of their petal-soft flesh as you unconsciously swiped your tongue over the seam in a devastating swipe.

A low, gravelly keen vibrated up from the confines of his ribs as feverish compulsion took over. Osamu found himself leaning infinitesimally forward without conscious thought or restraint, magnetic and undeniable. He angled his head just enough to allow your noses to brush in the faintest caress as your lips...your lips were suddenly so impossibly close his entire being vibrated with the need to surge across that final searing distance and—

Your trembling fingers found purchase against the taut cords of Osamu's nape, digits splaying wide to anchor him in place. He shuddered at the scorching brand of your touch, gut clenching in anticipation of either being pulled infinitely closer or utterly severed from your tempting orbit.

But you didn't relinquish the tenuous connection thrumming between you. If anything, the barest hint of pressure from your palms coaxed Osamu to sway another infinitesimal fraction nearer until the whisper-soft swell of your lips hovered an exquisite hairsbreadth from his own.

A tremor rippled through his whole body at the first searing brush of your breath fanning hotly against his mouth. Osamu's lids slipped to half-mast without conscious thought, transfixed by the plump blush of your lower lip as your tongue swiped out to wet them with devastating intent.

He was already leaning in, succumbing to the magnetic draw, when you surged upwards to crash against him in a searing collision of velvet heat.

A deep, guttural keen reverberated from the depths of Osamu's chest as your mouths melded with urgent insistence. He swayed dangerously on the precipice of his restraint for all of a heartbeat before surrendering completely. With a harsh rumble of pure visceral need, his arms constricted around your pliant body until not an inch of space remained between you.

Then, like a starving man who'd glimpsed an oasis after years of deprivation, Osamu simply allowed himself to indulge without hesitation. To sate the endless aching hollow that had steadily consumed him since last he'd sampled your essence so intimately.

His lips moved with hungry, devouring strokes - licking into the searing cavern of your mouth with relentless undulations that stoked the wildfire rapidly engulfing your entwined frames. You arched helplessly against the scorching heat of his broad palms spanning your lower back, fingers splaying wide to knead against the flexing muscles working just beneath the surface of your skin.

When the first desperate keen spilled from between your kiss-bruised lips, Osamu wasted no time in coaxing it into a resonant moan that buzzed against his stinging mouth. He canted his hips with purposeful pressure, pinning you immobile as he ground his rapidly stiffening cock into the softness of your pelvis with deliciously torturous friction.

It wasn't until the two of you were both trembling and gasping into one another that Osamu found the iron-willed strength to slowly disengage. He gentled the devouring sweeps of his tongue, teeth scraping in a lush caress as he gradually coaxed the tempo into something slower and infinitely more searing. Each excruciatingly tender glide of your mouths was a convulsive give and take - a tantalizing farewell embrace soaked in poignancy and desperate longing.

Finally, with a ragged groan torn from somewhere primal, Osamu tore himself free. Only to sway there gasping as if punched in the gut, foreheads pressed flush and lungs heaving in ragged synchronicity. His chest still cradled yours, hard ridges and sweat-dewed flesh sealed as one.

You whimpered first - a soft, infinitely vulnerable sound that fractured straight through to Osamu's very marrow. It took every ounce of restraint still lurking in his hollowed bones not to immediately surge back in and silence the anguish with his lips and tongue and wretched, yearning soul.

Instead, he found his hands drifting upwards until his palms cradled your feverish cheeks with infinite tenderness. Osamu drank in every precious detail of your features through a sheen of unshed desperation. The frantic flutter of your lashes against freshly kissed skin. The lush, swollen contours of your mouth that panted in time with his own.

"Let's get you a fuckin' bed already," he rasped out at last, the sudden gravel of his voice making you shiver anew against him. A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of Osamu's mouth, underscored with a hundred different roiling emotions barely restrained behind it. "Can't have my wife spendin' another night on that worn-out sofa, now can I?"

The endearment slipped free before he could bite it back, weighted with layers of yearning and promise and a profoundly deeper intimacy than simple words could convey. But from the way your breath hitched and crystalline eyes sharpened to laser focus entirely on him, Osamu knew you heard every one of those unspoken depths loud and clear.

He didn't look away or attempt to backpedal — simply held your searching stare with that same molten intensity even as his thumb stroked tenderly across the upswept beauty mark below your parted lips. An anchor, a tether, a binding vow of intent all shored up in one infinitesimal caress.

You held Osamu's piercing stare for a long moment, feeling pinned in place by the smoldering promise flickering behind those gunmetal irises of his. Finally, you gave a slow nod. "Okay...let's go get a bed then."

The drive to the local furniture showroom passed in a weighty hush, punctuated only by the occasional burst of evening traffic and sideways glances you stole at Osamu's grim profile. He kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, forearms tensed against the steering wheel with hands gripping tight enough to strain the knuckles. You couldn't begin to fathom the cyclone of thoughts and emotions warring behind that brutally calm facade.

Eventually, you pulled into the dimly lit parking lot and climbed out without a word. Osamu fell into step beside you, radiating that aura of surly disquiet you'd grown so familiar with in recent weeks. Yet there was an undercurrent thrumming between you now - a new vibrating frequency wrought from the lingering echoes of your impassioned embrace and whatever fragile agreement you'd stumbled upon.

Once inside the cavernous showroom, you felt some of the leaden tension release its vice grip enough for you to draw a deeper breath. Almost instinctively, you found yourself gravitating towards the furthest display of luxurious mattresses and bed frames, fingers trailing along the opulent fabrics and polished woods as you passed.

"I've always liked the look of the sleigh beds," you commented idly over one shoulder, watching Osamu steadily approaching through your periphery. "With the curved headboards and footboards, you know? They feel so sturdy and supportive without being too overbearing."

He hummed noncommittally as you came to a halt before an incredibly lavish mid-century piece. Despite its grand presence, the subtle embellishments and deep coffee wood stain exuded warmth and familiarity in a way you found immensely appealing. Beckoning, even.

You sank down onto the plush mattress with a contented murmur, feeling the high-quality memory foam contouring to your weight and cupping your curves enticingly. Almost without conscious volition, you leaned back onto your elbows and stretched out — shameless in your indulgence to test the comfort and support in your usual sleeping position.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Osamu's throat work in a harsh swallow as his gaze raked over the lines of your body. There was a weighted heat searing behind those slate irises of his, a predatory promise reminiscent of your fervent embrace only an hour earlier. The memory of his unyielding frame pinning yours into searing compliance made an insistent fluttering erupt low in your abdomen.

"Not bad," was his only terse assessment after a prolonged pause. You watched, mesmerized, as he slowly circled the bed like a wolf scenting its prey. Each unhurried footfall felt charged with blistering tension and roiling intent.

When Osamu reached the footboard, he braced both hands against the smoothly curved wood with enough force to whiten his knuckles further. His shoulders tensed and released as he inhaled a measured breath before pivoting to pin you with that loaded stare once more.

"Lots of space to stretch out," he remarked in that same low, thrumming rasp. "Seems sturdy enough, too. Built to take on a lotta...friction without fallin' apart."

The blatant insinuation curled around your nerves like physical caresses. You bit the inside of your cheek sharply to smother the whimper threatening to break free at the spark of liquid heat pooling between your thighs.

Perhaps sensing your body's visceral reaction, Osamu's mouth curved into a smug facsimile of a smirk as he leaned forward incrementally. Until his weighty presence consumed your periphery, obliterating every other stimulus apart from the sandalwood-musk cologne and smoldering promise radiating off his solidmuscular frame in waves.

"You think it'll do, babe?" His gravelly rumble was pitched for your ears alone, dripping with dark promise that liquefied your bones. "This the kinda bed you want me puttin' you through your paces on every night?"

A violent shudder ripped through you at the mental images his words conjured — of slick flesh trailing scorching paths across rumpled sheets, sinuous bodies arching and rocking in unbridled ecstasy. Osamu's smirk deepened into something utterly ravenous at whatever he glimpsed flickering across your features. He opened his mouth to undoubtedly ratchet up the torment further when a discreet cough from across the showroom shattered the lascivious fog wreathing you both.

You startled, eyes swiveling guiltily to find a middle-aged saleswoman regarding you with a look of polite incredulity. Clearly she'd witnessed enough of Osamu's provocative stance looming over your prone form to gauge the situation accurately. Heat flooded your cheeks as you scrambled upright, surreptitiously tugging your skirt back into proper place.

Osamu simply leveled the hapless employee with one of his signature inscrutable looks, not bothering to extricate himself from his position caging you against the mattress. If anything, he seemed to lean in fractionally closer - a barely perceptible assertion of dominance that had your pulse skittering anew.

The poor saleswoman cleared her throat again, shifting awkwardly. "My apologies for interrupting...I simply wanted to let you know we'll be closing the showroom in about fifteen minutes if you need any assistance with your, er, selection this evening."

"We're good, thanks," Osamu responded gruffly, not even bothering to glance her way as he continued pinning you with that incendiary stare.

You studiously avoided the employee's surprised look until she gave a jerky nod and retreated towards the front offices. Only then did you realize you'd been holding your breath, letting it escape in a shuddering rush as your shoulders sagged infinitesimally.

"So..." You swallowed hard against the unexpected burst of uneasiness now seizing your nerves. Tentatively, you raised your eyes to meet Osamu's heated regard head-on. "We're really doing this again? Uh, g-getting...a bed together, I mean?"

His expression didn't so much as flicker, maintaining that composed intensity that somehow felt more loaded in the wake of your question. You fought against a sudden urge to squirm under the weight of that smoldering appraisal, abruptly regretting the wobble of uncertainty now coloring your tone.

For several beats, the silence stretched unbearably taut between you. Then, just when you thought you might shatter from the stifling tension, Osamu leaned in until you were practically cross-eyed from his proximity. Until you could make out every subtle shift of gunmetal and amber swirling through his irises, every calloused ridge scoring the seam of his lips as they parted to murmur:

"Baby, if you think I'm gonna put us both through that fresh hell of gettin' separated again...well then, you must be confusin' me with some sorta moron. Because I already updated my life insurance policy. Listed you as the sole beneficiary again. You know, just in case I accidentally choke to death on any more crappy pickup lines I might try on you from now on."

The words were spoken with such dull candor, so utterly devoid of humorous inflection or levity of any kind. Yet the sheer unexpectedness of Osamu's customary deadpan delivery combined with the saccharine endearment and sappy-as-hell promise slammed into you with startling impact.

You stared at him, feeling your lips twitch as incredulous euphoria bubbled up from your core. Osamu's brows furrowed in apparent consternation at your lack of verbal response. But you were powerless to fight against the rising tide as it crested, expelling in a sudden peal of loud, uninhibited laughter that echoed freely through the cavernous showroom.

"You—" You gasped out between wheezing guffaws, clutching at your midsection. "You absolute sap! Did you...really...just say that...with a straight face?"

Osamu's expression remained utterly impassive as you gradually descended into intermittent hiccuping giggles. If anything, his severe features seemed to sharpen even further in affront at having the solemn weight of his declaration demolished so thoroughly.

"Yeah, and what about it?" he growled at last, the underlying gravel of his tone only serving to rekindle your mirth. "That's you spoken for, end of story. I ain't goin' through losin' my goddamn mind again just cause you can't wrap your brain around a simple fact."

His eyes fairly smoldered into yours, lips thinning into a mulish line that should have been intimidating yet only struck you as unutterably endearing in that moment. You reached up without conscious thought, palms cradling the prickly warmth of his jawline as a fresh bubble of giggles escaped on a sigh.

"My big ol' grumpy bear," you murmured through your smiling stupor, thumbs stroking across the sharp ridges of his cheekbones.

Osamu's carefully cultivated scowl faltered infinitesimally as the searing intensity in his gaze transmuted to something softer, more vulnerable. Like he'd just been robbed of his last defenses against the rising swell of cautious optimism blooming between you.

With a low growl that rumbled straight through to your bones, he surged forward and crushed his mouth against yours in a searing reclamation of heated devotion.

The apartment felt almost cavernously silent in the aftermath of your laughter at the furniture showroom. You sank back against the worn cushions of your living room sofa with a contented sigh, the last few giddy giggles tapering off into the warm evening quiet.

Osamu settled in beside you without preamble, one thick arm draped along the back of the couch as his frame angled bodily to face yours. You watched, transfixed, as his piercing slate eyes slowly carved a path from the crown of your head down to your bare toes and back again in one unhurried sweep.

The weighted regard made your skin prickle with rising heat that had nothing to do with the temperature. You recognized that look - the same dark, hungry simmer he used to level your way when you were still newlyweds and Osamu couldn't seem to get enough of simply...observing you existing around him.

"C'mere," he rumbled at last, voice rough as flintstone in a way that liquefied your bones. Without a second's hesitation, you leveraged yourself up and swung one knee over to straddle Osamu's solid thighs, knees sinking into the frayed upholstery on either side of his hips.

His spine straightened at the sudden change in proximity, those brooding steel irises darkening further with naked want. You could actually feel the scorching brand of Osamu's stare skating across the swell of your breasts now devastatingly close to his line of sight, unconsciously squirming a little closer at the intoxicating sensation.

Thick cords of muscle flexed and jumped beneath the sleeves of Osamu's shirt as his hands drifted up to bracket your waist, thumbs stroking idle patterns against the jut of your hipbones. His palms felt like searing manacles as his fingers splayed possessively, fingertips just grazing the soft undercurve of your ass to tug you infinitesimally nearer still.

A throaty sound of pure satisfaction rumbled up from Osamu's barrel chest as your bodies melded flush together, his thick thighs cradling your hips in a scorching vee. You could feel the rapid kick of his pulse stuttering against the notch of your breastbone where it was sealed to his own swiftly rising and falling with quickened breaths.

"Fuck, I missed this..." he rasped in a gruff undertone, the words more felt than heard with how intimately you were entwined. Osamu's knuckles traced the elegant inward curve of your spine through the thin cotton barrier of your shirt. "Missed gettin' to look my fill whenever I wanted, no matter how greedy it made me."

Your nails scored lightly against the nape of his neck, noses brushing in an achingly delicate caress as your mouths hovered infinitesimally apart. "Well you've got your chance now, don't you?" you whispered in return, stomach clenching at the rasp of Osamu's harsh exhale ghosting across your sensitized lips. "All the time in the world to drink your fill again."

His eyes slipped to half-mast, pupils swallowing up nearly all the quicksilver irises in a look of pure, unguarded yearning that stole the air from your lungs. With purposeful leisure, Osamu's broad palms mapped every dip and flare of your torso in slumbering strokes before reversing course. His gaze followed the journey, hooded and predatory, like a man committing every intimate landscape to indelible memory after nearly being rendered sightless.

You found yourself hopelessly captivated in turn by the minuscule changes flickering across Osamu's ruggedly beautiful features as he absorbed you in. The way his jaw tended to tick subtly whenever your upper bodies brushed together with each shared breath. How his brow pinched when large hands found a new swell of softness to reverently mold and explore. And most distractingly, the steady darkening of those piercing grey eyes until you felt pinned and utterly claimed beneath their singularly focused weight.

It wasn't until you felt the first wayward tear searing a path down your flushed cheek that you realized the gravity of what was unfolding between you. More followed in their wake, hot and silent, prompting a low keen of alarm from somewhere deep in Osamu's broad chest.

You smothered the wounded sound with your mouth before he could give voice to his concern, lips parting on a desperate whimper as they crashed together in a searing tangle. Your tears continued unabated even as your bodies writhed and strained closer, cradling Osamu's whiskered jaw between your palms while his calloused digits dug in with bruising possession.

Neither of you pulled back until breathing became a secondary need to sating this newly rekindled inferno raging between your fused frames. Chests heaving in ragged unison, you simply clung to one another through the aftermath - foreheads sealed, noses brushing, lips so closely aligned that the softest whispers could be savored with searing intimacy.

"We're really doin' this for good, aren't we?" Osamu murmured at last, the usually gruff rasp nearly inaudible but rippling through you with sledgehammer impact. You felt his hands - those powerful, work-roughened appendages you'd once admired in daily reverence - tenderly cup the hinge of your jaw. "You and me, all chips in and no more runnin' the second shit gets sideways again..."

Somehow, you managed a jerky nod through the fresh swell of tears rapidly clouding your vision. Osamu drank in the silent confirmation with undisguised adoration and soul-deep longing painted across his chiseled features, thumbs brushing away the molten salt streaking down your cheeks with exquisite tenderness.

"Good," was his only graveled response before tugging you back into another searing, desperate kiss that seared you both straight through to your very marrows.

You surrendered wholly to the scorching tempers of Osamu's questing mouth, fingertips digging harsh furrows into the dense cords of muscle spanning his shoulders and back as you clung on for purchase. The room seemed to tilt and spin dizzyingly in your periphery until the only stable anchors were the unyielding planes of his body and the ravenous sweeps of his tongue claiming you in rough strokes.

Eventually, oxygen deficiency began to pound thick drums in your skull. You tore away with a shuddering gasp, lungs heaving in great draughts of air that did little to steady your racing pulse. Osamu simply watched you through half-lidded eyes, lips curved in a smugly satisfied slant as he dragged the back of his knuckles down your flushed cheek.

"Who'da thought the mighty [Y/N] would be such a crybaby after all these years?" he rasped, black depths glinting with teasing amusement despite his own labored breathing.

You blinked at him owlishly for a moment, still struggling to comprehend anything beyond the electrifying aftershocks of his kisses ricocheting through your nerve endings. "What...?"

The raspy chuckle that rumbled up from Osamu's broad chest vibrated through you in delicious waves, prompting fresh tingles to erupt across your skin. "Don't act like ya don't know what I'm talkin' about, babe," he goaded, leaning in to brush the words directly against the swell of your kiss-bitten lips. "You bawlin' yer pretty eyes out over the dumbest little things. Like that time ya got so hysterical over the snowglobe I gave ya for our first Christmas..."

Recognition instantly dawned, rapidly giving way to a fierce burn of arousal and indignation in equal measure. You immediately attempted to pull back, twisting your torso away from Osamu's heated vicinity as the memories resurfaced with embarrassing clarity.

"Don't you dare bring that up again, Miya!" you huffed, chin jutting mulishly even as mortified tears began prickling the corners of your eyes anew. "It was a sweet, thoughtful gift and the timing couldn't have been more meaningful! I was allowed to be a little emotional over it..."

But Osamu simply crooned in a low tone of unbridled satisfaction, strong arms banding around your waist with sublime indifference to keep you trapped against the scorching brand of his frame. "Sure, bawlin' for a solid hour while puttin' a dent in the couch cushions from hidin' your face was totally proportional to the occasion..."

You attempted to cut him off with a fierce shake of your head, but he easily overpowered your squirming until your bodies were melded together in a seamless wall of unyielding muscle and feverish, tingling softness. Emboldened by your tearful indignation, Osamu simply smirked and pressed his advantage - ducking to brush his whiskered jawline along the fragile tendons straining in your throat.

"Or what about the time yer favorite shitty boyband dropped a new album right before finals week?" he practically purred against your hammering pulse point, teeth grazing wildly sensitive flesh just enough to make you shudder violently. "Pretty sure I had to pick ya up off the floor when ya got so overwhelmed ya passed right the fuck out from blubberin'..."

"Stop it!" you cried in a watery burst, chest hitching with miserable laughter even as you feebly swatted at Osamu's questing hands and wicked mouth. "You're such an ass, bringing up all that ancient history like it means anything!"

But even as you scolded, your thighs instinctively parted to grant him deeper access, spine arching to present your vulnerable throat in clear supplication. Osamu rumbled deep in his chest again - this time a low sound of pure masculine satisfaction that skated like a physical brand across your nerve endings. His broad palms found purchase on the undercurve of your backside, fingertips digging in with delicious urgency until your hips were rocking in a slow, salacious grind against the formidable bulge rapidly taking shape beneath the snug denim.

"So what's got ya cryin' this time?" he growled against the fragile hollow just beneath your ear, trailing heavy open-mouthed kisses downward. "Me finally puttin' a baby in that pretty belly of yours after all these years? Can't think of a better reason to get those waterworks flowin' again if ya ask me..."

The sheer audacity of his words - the carnal filth as much as the undisguised insinuation that this reunion was only the opening salvo to so much more - punched a startled keen of pure, searing need from your very marrow. You twisted with renewed urgency, mouth finding his in a souling embrace of slick heat and tangling tongues as the desperate flames licking between you swiftly roared into an inferno once more.

Osamu kissed you back feverishly, his thick tongue delving deep to taste every corner of your mouth. His large, calloused hands roamed over your body, squeezing and caressing. He broke the heated kiss with a ragged gasp, lips trailing open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck.

"God, I've missed you..." he rasped against your skin, voice dripping with raw need. "Missed the way you taste, the way your body feels against mine."

You shivered at his words, nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as you arched against him wantonly. Osamu groaned deep in his chest, the bulge in his jeans grinding against your core. His hands grasped your hips, guiding you into a slow grind that had you both panting harshly.

"Spent so many fuckin' nights after we divorced just lying there, remembering what it felt like to be inside you," Osamu confessed in a low, gravelly tone. "So deep I couldn't tell where you ended and I began. Thinkin' about it drove me crazy with how much I wanted you back."

A desperate whine spilled from your lips at his words. You hastily pushed his shirt up, desperate to feel his heated skin under your palms. Osamu aided your efforts, quickly stripping the garment off and tossing it aside. His eyes burned with molten intensity as your hands mapped every ridge and muscle of his powerful torso and shoulders.

"Wanted to feel you wrapped so tight around me again," he growled, the rough timbre of his voice sparking liquid heat in your veins. "To get so deep in that velvet pussy until we were both lost to everything but being joined."

You swallowed thickly, body thrumming with need at his filthy words. You knew exactly what he meant - the feeling of being utterly filled and completed by him in the most carnal sense until the world faded away.

Osamu captured your lips in another bruising kiss, all clashing teeth and tangling tongues. His hands roamed over your clothes, desperate to bare more of your feverish skin to his ravenous touch. When you finally parted, you were both panting harshly.

"It felt like I could breathe again when you first called after the divorce," he admitted in a rough rumble, steel-grey eyes boring into yours intensely. "Even though it was just asking for help with some dumb furniture, it was like...like I was still yours when you said my name like that."

You made a choked sound at his confession, heart clenching at the rawness in his tone. Osamu didn't give you a chance to respond, claiming your mouth in another searing kiss that had you melting against his solid frame. His hands found their way under your shirt, calloused palms mapping every inch of newly exposed skin as the kiss turned messy and frantic once more.

Finally, he tore his lips away to mouth hot, open kisses along your jaw. "Soon as I heard your voice, I was already moving without even thinking about it," he panted roughly against the hinge of your jaw. "Out the door and in my car before I could second-guess just like all the other times you needed me."

You gasped shakily in understanding, fingers tunneling through his hair to hold him close. You vividly recalled that first fateful call and Osamu showing up without hesitation, just like he had done a thousand times before when you were still married. Despite the legal separation, some intrinsic part of him was still bound to answer your summons without question.

Osamu pulled back slightly, eyes blazing as he cradled your face in his big palms. "Never stopped being yours, no matter what kinda shit happened between us," he stated simply, calloused thumbs stroking your flushed cheeks. "Always gonna come runnin' when you call, woman. You hear me?"

His raw declaration hung heavy in the charged air between you. You searched his ruggedly handsome features, taking in the grim set of his jaw, the intense heat smoldering in those gunmetal irises. Osamu meant every single word - you could feel the solemn truth behind them down to your bones.

You let out a shaky exhale, fingers splaying against the solid planes of his chest. His heart thundered beneath your touch, a rapid cadence you knew matched your own racing pulse.

"Osamu..." you began, then halted uncertainly. So much still lay unspoken between you beyond the heated admissions of desire and longing. Questions and doubts flickered like candle flames, threatening to undermine the fragile foundation you'd reconstructed.

Sensing your hesitation, Osamu's calloused thumb stroked your cheekbone soothingly. "Just say it," he rasped in that deep timbre that never failed to make you shiver. "Whatever's goin' through that big brain of yours. We're layin' it all out on the table here."

You drew in another fortifying breath, leaning into the solid warmth of his palms cradling your face so tenderly despite the rough calluses scoring your skin. When you finally met his piercing stare again, you found yourself talking without conscious thought.

"I want to try again," you stated plainly, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. "You and me, for real this time. No more separating or letting things fall apart between us."

Osamu's jaw ticked subtly, but he remained silent and impassive, letting you forge ahead unfettered.

"But I need to know you're all in," you continued, willing your voice not to waver. "That you're not just going to take off again if things get tough or we hit another rough patch. Because I can't..." You broke off, blinking rapidly against the burning swell of tears. "I can't survive that a second time, Osamu. Losing you nearly destroyed me."

The anguished admission seemed to reverberate between you, cracking the simmering tension briefly. Osamu's brow creased, eyes softening imploringly as he pulled you flush against his body once more. You went willingly, savoring the steadying anchor of his solid frame and familiar, intoxicating scent.

"Baby, I ain't goin' nowhere," he murmured gruffly against your hairline, one big palm cradling the back of your head. "Should never have left in the first place, no matter how bad shit got between us. That was the biggest mistake of my damn life."

You squeezed your eyes shut at the regret saturating his gravelly rumble, fingers flexing against his skin where they rested against his chest. After a steadying moment, you felt Osamu pull away just enough to lock eyes with you again. His gaze was open and earnest, burning with an intensity that stole your breath.

"I'm all in here," he vowed simply, stroking the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cheekbone. "No more runnin', no more wastin' time apart when we both know there ain't nothin' for me without you by my side. We're gonna make this thing between us work this time, you hear? Even if I gotta spend every day for the rest of my life provin' it to you..."

His words trembled through you with the weighty promise behind them. You searched Osamu's stormy gaze for any hint of prevarication or doubt, but found only steadfast resolution burning there. A dawning smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the vice of uncertainty unclenched around your ribs.

"Well, you'd better get started then," you murmured, shifting to wind your arms around his neck and bring your foreheads together. "Because I'm going to keep putting you through your paces until I'm absolutely certain you're not going to flake out again, Miya Osamu."

Osamu's deep chuckle rumbled against your body, the vibration sending tingles skittering across your sensitized nerves. "Gettin' my ass put through the wringer every day for the rest of forever?" His calloused palms roamed soothingly over the dip of your waist and flare of your hips. "Sounds like my kinda livin' hell, babe."

Unable to resist any longer, you closed the scant distance and sealed your mouths together in a slow, drugging glide of velvet heat. Unlike before, this unhurried press of your lips and tangled tongues spoke to something deeper - a resounding connection and intimacy born from years spent in each other's orbit. It was a familiar kiss that nevertheless sparked fresh flames of passion and hunger, igniting the dormant fire between you with all the raw power and promise of a phoenix rising.

Osamu's broad palms gripped and molded every inch of you they could reach, stoking the building flames further with each hungry sweep and caress. You responded in kind, dragging your fingertips through his silken, ash-brown locks and raking across his scalp with just enough force to make him groan. Your tongues curled and twined as you savored the wet heat and tangling strokes, bodies pressed close enough to feel the thundering cadence of his heart racing against your breastbone.

A sudden surge of impatient desire had you tearing at Osamu's jeans, desperate to feel him fully bared and pliant beneath your wandering palms. He helped you shuck his belt and shove the snug denim down his hips, boxers quickly following until his cock sprang free - swollen and heavy, pulsing with every rapid throb of his hammering pulse. You hummed appreciatively at the sight, wrapping your fingers around the familiar weight and length and giving a few loose, languid pumps.

"Fuck, that's good, baby," Osamu grunted, eyes slipping shut in pleasure. His head fell forward to rest against yours, breath ghosting hot and quick over your flushed cheeks. "Been too long since I felt those pretty little hands on me, missed you so damn much."

Your own eyelids fluttered shut, drinking in the husky, graveled rasp of his voice and the feel of his thick cock twitching against your palm. "I've missed this, too," you murmured, swiping a bead of pre-cum from his tip and using it to slick your hand as you began stroking him with intent. "Missed the feel of you, how good you always made me feel. How perfectly we fit together."

Osamu let out a guttural sound, his hips bucking involuntarily into your touch. He quickly recovered, though, deftly working the fly of your jeans open and pushing them down over the generous curve of your hips. His mouth sought yours again, swallowing your moans as he palmed the generous swell of your ass and squeezed, grinding his rock-hard erection against your belly.

"Let me get my mouth on you, baby," he begged between messy kisses, tongue sweeping deep into the cavern of your mouth. "Wanna taste that pretty pussy of yours, feel you comin' apart on my tongue."

Your entire body jolted at the carnal filth spilling from his kiss-swollen lips. You'd always had a weakness for his wickedly talented mouth, and the prospect of it licking and devouring you like some succulent feast had you instantly slick and throbbing. But tonight, you wanted something else entirely.

"Later," you breathed against the corner of his mouth, nipping his bottom lip sharply before pulling back. Osamu's pupils were blown wide with desire, his gaze burning hotter than the sun as he stared at you uncomprehendingly. You couldn't help the wicked smirk curling the edges of your mouth.

"Tonight, I want you buried inside me," you declared bluntly, delighting in the way his eyes went hazy with lust. You let go of his cock long enough to wiggle out of the confining denim and kick the jeans aside, then immediately grasped his hand and guided it between your legs.

"Want you filling me up, fucking me until I'm sore and aching," you continued, biting your lip as his fingers parted your slick folds. The first teasing brush against your clit had your entire body bowing and thighs clenching, but you forced yourself to meet Osamu's scorching stare once more. "Making sure I'm thoroughly bred, so I can never forget who I belong to ever again."

For a moment, all Osamu could do was gape at you in mute astonishment. Then his nostrils flared, pupils blown so wide the blackness nearly eclipsed the steel-grey of his irises entirely. A low, animalistic growl ripped from his chest, and the next thing you knew, his mouth was slanted over yours and his thick fingers were pumping into your molten core.

"Fucking hell, woman, what're ya tryin' to do to me?" he snarled between biting, desperate kisses. His free hand found purchase on the swell of your breast, squeezing roughly before rolling and pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. "Gonna be the goddamn death of me with that dirty mouth."

You arched into his touch, panting heavily as he worked you higher. His long, thick fingers stroked and rubbed your sensitive inner walls, coaxing wave after wave of slick honey from your throbbing channel. You writhed against him, hands scrabbling for purchase on the corded muscles of his shoulders.

"Please, Samu, I need you inside me," you moaned, hips bucking against his hand. He cursed harshly, fingers stilling inside you for a moment. Then he withdrew, making quick work of the buttons on your blouse before yanking it down your arms and tossing the garment aside. He followed up with your bra, leaving you bare before him save for your panties.

"Look at you, all soft and pliant, ready to take me," Osamu growled, calloused hands skating reverently over the curve of your belly and hips. "Finally gonna make me a daddy, huh?"

He dipped his head, latching onto the supple flesh of your breast and suckling deeply. Your hands found their way into his hair again, fingers digging into his scalp as you moaned wantonly. When he finally released your breast, he blew gently over the stiff peak, causing it to pucker even more.

"You know you can never go back once you have my baby," he continued, trailing open-mouthed kisses across the valley of your breasts and up the column of your throat. "No other man would ever measure up after that. You'd be ruined for anyone else, just like I was the first time I was inside you."

You keened sharply at his possessive, primal words, head falling back to grant him better access. "Good," you gasped, nails scoring the planes of his back and shoulders. "Because I've never wanted anyone else, Samu. It's only ever been you."

He groaned against the shell of your ear, grinding his thick, heavy length against the damp fabric still concealing your aching core. "You're damn right, and it's always gonna stay that way."

One powerful hand found purchase on the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place as he devoured your mouth with bruising, punishing kisses. At the same time, his other hand slipped between you, ripping away the final barrier separating your bodies. The shredded material was summarily discarded, and you barely had a chance to draw breath before he was lining up and plunging home.

"Ride me, sweetheart. Just like you used to."

The command was a deep, resonating purr against your feverish skin, one that sent a shiver dancing down the notches of your spine. A whimper escaped your throat, fingers flexing against Osamu's muscular back. You could already feel his length pulsing inside you, stretching and filling you to the brim with that familiar, delicious ache.

"Fuck, that's perfect," Osamu hissed between his teeth, his head tipping back and eyes slamming shut as you began to roll and undulate against him. You were already impossibly wet and aching, his thick, swollen shaft bottoming out with each fluid pump and grind of your hips. He was seated so deep and full inside you, it felt as though there wasn't a single molecule of space between your bodies.

You couldn't help but agree.

"You feel so good," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed at the delicious stretch. You shifted slightly, finding the best angle to allow the bulbous head of his cock to graze and stroke the sensitive cluster of nerves hidden deep within your slick channel. "So big and hard inside me, splitting me open. Like you were made for me."

Osamu's rough chuckle vibrated against your chest. He dropped a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing the tender flesh. "Damn straight, I'm made for you," he affirmed, voice muffled against your skin. "Just like you were made for me. Fuckin' perfect, we are."

You sighed in contentment, arching into his touch. Your hands skated over the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders, reveling in the familiar sensation of his solid, warm frame and the taut lines of his body moving against yours. The scent of his skin - that intoxicating, masculine musk and subtle hints of spice and citrus - enveloped you completely, filling your senses and flooding every corner of your mind.

The room quickly filled with the slick, obscene sounds of your coupling - the wet squelch of your joined bodies, the breathy sighs and ragged grunts as you both raced toward the edge. Your bodies were in perfect sync, instinctively attuned to each other despite the years apart. Every roll and thrust, every shift and cant of your hips, was matched and amplified by his.

It wasn't long before the coil of pleasure in the pit of your stomach began winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap. Your breath was coming in short, gasping pants, nails digging into the taut sinews of Osamu's shoulders as you clutched him tighter. He sensed the subtle shift in the air, and a low growl rumbled in his chest.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured, calloused palms cradling the sides of your neck and jaw. His piercing stare was focused entirely on you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart trip over itself. "Never knew what I did to deserve a woman like you, but I'll spend every day of my life tryin' to live up to it."

The raw vulnerability in his deep, graveled rumble tugged sharply at your heartstrings. A trembling breath spilled from your lips, eyes prickling with sudden emotion. You reached up, mirroring his hold as you gently cradled his rugged features.

"You don't have to be anyone other than who you are, Osamu," you assured him, voice thick with the swell of emotions roiling in your chest. "Just...just be with me. That's all I've ever needed."

A beat of silence passed between you, a suspended moment that seemed to stretch an eternity. Then, like a thread snapping, Osamu's expression crumbled, and he crushed his mouth to yours. The kiss was desperate, hungry, conveying everything unsaid with a ferocity that threatened to consume you whole.

"I love you, Y/N," he panted roughly between biting kisses, calloused palms roaming restlessly over the bare expanse of your back and shoulders. "Fuck, I love you so goddamn much."

Tears pricked your eyes, the lump in your throat thick and hot. "I love you, too," you choked out, kissing him again and again. Your bodies never faltered, the slick slide and pump of his thick cock still pistoning in and out of your molten core.

When Osamu finally pulled back, his pupils were blown wide and black with hunger. "Come for me, beautiful," he urged, thumb slipping between you to circle and rub your swollen clit. "Need to feel you milkin' my cock, wanna feel you cum all over me."

The tension in your belly snapped, white-hot pleasure surging through you like lightning. You cried out, the sound swallowed up by his ravenous mouth. Your cunt spasmed around him, gripping his pulsing shaft and wringing him dry.

Osamu came with a guttural snarl, his body seizing and jerking against yours as his hips pistoned erratically. Thick ropes of seed splashed against your womb, painting your walls and filling every nook and cranny. He kept pumping through his climax, drawing out both your orgasms for as long as possible.

You were both boneless and panting when it was over, limbs tangled together and foreheads pressed close. The heat of the moment was slowly dissipating, replaced by the steady thud of your hearts and the soothing warmth of his bare skin against yours.

Osamu's thumb brushed the swell of your cheek, calloused pads smoothing the lingering tracks of tears. "What's the verdict, babe?" he murmured, dark brows pinching together slightly.

Your own lips twitched in a small smile. "I think you've made a pretty compelling argument so far, Miya," you quipped lightly, then leaned in to kiss him. "But you know, they say it takes a few rounds to really make sure a job's done right."

He chuckled, a low, husky rumble that made the heat stirring in the pit of your belly flare to life once more. His mouth curved into a crooked smirk, the glint in his eyes promising wicked delights and the fulfillment of many, many desires.

"Guess we'll just have to keep tryin' until it takes then, yeah?"

#i’m sorry i hate how i paced this and dragged it out so much #i was going to write it a different way but then i got lazy 🥲#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader smut #osamu smut #osamu x reader

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oxytxn · 2 months ago

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OSAMU can’t stand when his beautiful partner is stressed.

everyone who knows the dark-haired twin knows that his love languages are acts of service and gifts, so what better way to serve his lover than to eat you out from beneath your desk as a little present for you studying so hard?

“o-osamu,” you whine when you feel his tongue lick a stripe up your slit. your voice is like the sweetest song to his ears, your glistening arousal the most delicious honey.

he can’t help but smile into your cunt as he draws little figure eights on your clit, causing your hips to jerk, bucking up against his nose. your hand is trembling as you struggle to write the answer to a practice problem you’re currently working on.

this is torture. you can’t even focus and work on anything!

but what’s even worse torture is him stopping his actions, his lips hovering over and lightly blowing your puffy little bud. he’s intentionally avoiding giving you any stimulation, leaving you on edge and whiny.

oh, he’s evil.

“keep studying, darlin’,” he teasingly chides, “or else i’ll stop. i ain’t got a problem with it.”

and to his delight, you got right to work, scribbling away at your notes.

so good for him. ᢉ𐭩

masterlist

had this half- ass thought written in my drafts since one of my inorganic chem exams uhhh enjoy

#osamu #osamu miya #osamu smut #osamu miya smut #osamu x reader smut #osamu x reader #miya osamu smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu

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realcube · 2 months ago

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AT THE SAME DAMN TIME! *.°★* 。

hot with hq duos !

ft .. all timeskip! hinata + oikawa // osamu + suna // yamaguchi + tsukishima // bokuto + atsumu

tws && tags .. nsfw, vaginal, threeways (mmf). hookups, anal, fingering, breeding k!nk, size k!nk // handjobs, oral (m receiving), praise, general mess // handjob, fingering, anal, degredation, praise // oral (m receiving) , degredation, daddy kink, semi-public sex — minors dni!

HINATA & OIKAWA wanted to have fun together during their time in rio, and naturally, that entailed hitting up local bars and clubs during the night. and who were to condemn them if that led to bringing a sweet girl back to their hotel rooms? it’s part of the culture, after all. however, the issue lay in the fact that they both had their eyes set on the same woman — and neither of them had any intention of compromising.

alas, their joint stubbornness is what led them to their current situation.

the three of you would drunkenly stagger back to their hotel rooms — while they feign being helpful and wrap their arms protectively around your body under the guise of stablising your inebriated form. but in actuality, they were probably far worse off than you, and would often lose their own balance while handling your hips or lower back, which would then lead to you tripping over too.

eventually you reach their hotel rooms, and due to the fact oikawa lost his keycard at some blankened point during their escapade, it was hinata's room that you all ended up stumbling into.

even while on the lively streets or during the brief intermission in the silent elevator together, the three of you were inappropriately close; leaving slopping kisses on any pieces of exposed flesh and grabbing at parts of each other that could only be described as intimate. thankfully most pedestrians were more involved in their own business, and any onlookers that did notice your PDA were far too drunk to care.

and the affection was only accelerated as soon as you stepped foot into the privacy of hinata's hotel room. almost instantly it became a hot mess; an entanglement of limbs and appendages, furiously trying to get as close to each other as possible.

of course they were more focused on you than each other, and you tried to pay them each and equal amount of attention. thus your clothes became the immediate victims of both their scrutinies, and were torn and ripped off your body urgently by the various hands wandering over your supple figure. for the most part, you let your eyes drift shut and your mind cloud over while their big hands saturated your soft skin, occassionally flicking your nipples or pinching your clit. four hands on you at once.

however if you paid attention, you could tell whose hands belonged to whom.

oikawa was positioned closely behind you, to the point where you could find his firm abs against your back and his breath tickling the crook of your neck. his hands were slender and expert, and his touch was far more playful. fondling your tits or teasing your sensitive clit; all of which he would use as fuel for his growing erection, that you could feel growing against your plush thighs, even through the fabric of his pants. whenever he would elicit a cute moan from your pretty lips, you could feel him huff a chuckle into your neck.

hinata's hands were a bit smaller, but much faster and more keen. he was stood in front of you, and seemingly couldn't decide what he wanted to do. he'd engage you for a deep kiss for around ten seconds at a time, and just before it would get too heavy, he pull away to shift his full attention back onto your body. allowing his daring touch to slip behind you and fully grope your ass, or sink between your legs and excitedly finger you. he was a bit erratic, you could never tell what he was going to do next, and you liked that.

this trite foreplay, however sexy, didn't to satiate them for long though. soon, they became hungry for more of your intoxicating figure.

oikawa was the first one to make a move. while you were sandwiched between the boys, hinata's fingers were knuckles' deep inside your hole, thrusting into you over and over, while squelching noises filled the room. his lips were connected your delicate neck and he was sucking harsh hickeys into your skin. that, in combination with oikawa's arms snaked around your waist so he could rub your clit, was enough to have your knees buckling under you and a lewd string of moans pouring from your heart.

since your mind was clouded with pleasure, you hardly noticed the disappearance of oikawa's stiff cock against the back of your thigh. he shifted away slightly, but only so he could pull his cock free from the confines of his pants with one hand. with the other, he gathered all your sticky arousal from your clit and between your thighs, in order to lubricate his dick until it had the perfect glossy sheen. then, without wasting anymore time, he jammed himself right into your tight asshole.

"nghh—fuck— ahh!" you choked out a broken chain of moans and profanities at the abrupt intrusion. although you'd be lying if you said you weren't into it — which you kinda gave away when you began subconciously grinding back against his fat cock, wanting to urge him deeper inside you despite the fiery pain. it stung so good.

"too big for you, huh?" he hums as he peppers soft kisses across your shoulderblade, "sadly we can't all be fun-sized, so you're just gonna have to take it, baby." you can feel him chuckle to himself lightly against you.

"fun-sized." hinata tuts; thankfully he is too drunk to take it personally and will probably forget that snide remark come morning and the memory will be replaced by a splitting headache. still, he felt the bubbling need to impress you and prove himself. plus, he didn't realise he was allowed to insert himself without a condom, but if oikawa was doing it, hinata was sure to dive in as well.

like everything else he does, he was quick to whip his cock out and slip himself between your plush thighs. using the abundant wetness accumulated around your glistening folds to facilitate his enterance into your tight cunt.

"how's that?" he wasn't exactly his 'fun-sized' as oikawa proclaimed, thus taking his entire cock within your homey walls was not easy by any means.

"mmph, too much.." even with all your natural lubrication, you could feel your twitching walls have to stretch and pull to contain him, and he continued to ram his dick right the way inside you.

"c'mon, (y/n). that's it. ta— shit— take it."

but once you finally managed to keep him all inside, it felt ineffably good. both of them would thrust into you at their own pace, angled upwards which led to your tits constantly bouncing at the impact. with both your holes entirely saturated by their thick cocks, there was no spot inside you left unstimulated. hence, it wasn't long before your legs literally gave out from under you, but thankfully you had two pairs of strong arms to hold you and keep you upright for as long as they needed to use you for.

"gunna.. uhh— mph!" you groan. due the mass amounts of overstimulation, it wasn't long before the growing knot in your abdomen erupted all over hinata's dick, and your very first orgasm had you squirting all over his length.

this obscene display, along with your convulsing walls and pornographic moans was enough to fuel his first climax too, and he spilled his hot seed into your constricting cunt. "d—damn, s-so fucking tight!" he pulled out as he did so, hence some of his cum remained deep inside you or plastered to your sticky walls, while some of it painted your folds and dripped onto the hotel floor.

even while all of this was happened, oikawa's steady and rough pace never relented. he continued ploughing into your ass even as hinata stood for a moment to catch his breath and get hard again, but hinata — as well — immediately buried his fingers into your pussy to replace the absense of his dick.

with a bit more longevity, oikawa's first climax occured a few minutes later, as alluded to by his increasingly brutal pace into your puckered hole. basking in the snug cling of your walls, he remained inside you and planted his hearty load deep into your ass.

this warm sensation flooding your insides was enough to prompt your second climax, which had your legs shaking and your holes gripping onto oikawa's dick and hinata's fingers for dear life, rendering both of them unable to move. not that oikawa intended to anyway, he stayed stationary in your ass until you had thoroughly milked him dry, only then did he pull out.

"shit," he heaved.

"ready to go again, pretty?" newly erect hinata asked innocently, subtly aligning himself with your sticky enterance before you even managed to focus your eyes on him.

"shoyo, we'll switch, huh?" oikawa mused, idly rubbing your raw hole with his fingers. hinata nodded at the idea and hurriedly switched places with oikawa.

now in front of you, oikawa admired your fucked-out expression, and your wet lashline, "pretty girl, aren't ya? even after two loads." he pressed his lips againsts yours for a fierce kiss, during which he wraps his arm around your waist and guides you forward, so that you land perfectly on top of him as he stumbles back onto the hotel double bed.

hinata eagerly follows the two of you, and while you are laying on oikawa, he positions his cock by your ass.

after that night, you learned your lesson about getting in bed with olympic level athletes. the expensive booze and nice hotel rooms might be tempting, but their stamina is unmatched — you just about had to open your third eye to be able to keep up!

OSAMU & SUNA hadn't seen each other in so long. hence, when osamu invited suna to visit him back in hyogo, they had a lot to catch up on. due to his busy schedule and distant location, suna wasn't able to visit his hometown very often and shockingly, had never even been to onigiri miya. naturally, that's the first thing osamu wanted to show him when he arrived.

and how could osamu show suna his store without introducing him to his favourite worker?

your knees ached against the cold tiles of the backroom. the bleak, damp area where osamu would keep stacks of crates and cardboard boxes filled with random crap he bought in bulk — it was cramped and there wasn't enough room to swing a cat, but you make it work.

osamu and suna stood over you, gazing down in amusement as they watched you eagerly pump their fat cocks with each of your hands, simultaneously. your face wound in concentration, as your head bobbed back and forth between the two men's dicks; either licking the tip or taking a substantial amount into your mouth for a quick suck, then hastily retreating and servicing the other — lest either of them feel neglected.

but they could count on the fact that each time you'd give their girthy shaft a lick or pop their buldging tip into your mouth, your gaze would promptly flicker up to their faces, seeking approval in the form of a smile or a nod or a moan.

it was disgustingly cute how desperate you were for validation.

osamu even aknowledged your attention-seeking with a low chuckle, rasping out in a hushed voice, cautious not to let slip a moan from your furious hand-work on his cock, "good girl, ain't she?" even as he spoke to suna, he's eyes never parted from your needy figure below him.

and suna was the same; entirely fixated on you as he gritted, "y—yeah.." when you switched to licking his length and lapping up the salty precum leaking from his tip, he leaned down and cupped your chin with his strong hands, "mgh— fuck. can i- take her home?" what was supposed to be light-hearted joke, came out more as a staggered breath. a plea, even.

osamu tangled his fingers into your hair, and used his grip on your head to slowly guide you back towards his cock, smiling warmly as you gracious accept his whole length in your mouth again and begin frantically sucking. "hm, how's that sound, (y/n)?" he hums, greyed eyes locked with yours, "wanna go home with suna?"

he pushes you even further into his cock, and they both chuckle under their breath when you try to respond but all that ends up coming out is a muffled 'mmph!'

however, the vibrations of your lips against his cock are enough to send him hurtling over the fast-approaching edge, and osamu reaches his climax while buried in your mouth. just as he tips into his high, the waves of sharp bliss coarsing through him causes him to relax his grip on your hair, allowing you to finally jerk backwards and gasp for air.

although, these two occurences happening in tandem only leads to a sticky mess. his first couple spurts splash all over the lower part of your face, from your upper lip to your chin, and thus dripping down onto the breast area of your origiri miya uniform. as you continue to pump both their cock's with your tight-fists, any cum after that was angled directly into your agape mouth, to prevent any further disarray.

but what you weren't prepared for, was this obscene sight to cause suna to reach his own orgasm shortly after. so while you are still focused on osamu and trying to lick his tip clean of any remnants, suna — with nothing but a muted groan for a warning — furiously ejaculates all over the side of your face and hair, making you even messier.

being the behaved girl osamu trained you to be, you pumped him through his orgasm too and tried to gather as much of his bitter seed in your mouth as you could, but your efforts were in vain. you had been completed soiled with their sticky cum, and once he had finished, you had to wipe it away from your eyes before you even dared look up at them both.

their loads mixed together on your bruised lips and chin, stained your previously prisitine work shirt, and dripped from the loose strands of your hair. they had left you entirely dishevelled; it was so hot.

"what a cute mess." osamu wipes a bit of his semen off your chin, and held his finger in front of your mouth. you promptly opened up and licked it clean, a small whine escaping as you do so. "good girl. think you can go again?"

you pout up at him, silently, and osamu stroked your cum-stained cheek, while suna slumps against the wall and tries to catch his breath, "c'mon, suna won't be here for long. he's going home on friday." osamu bargains, but you don't seem to waver at that. so instead, he propositions, "i'll buy your favourite pretzels next time i go to the wholesaler."

now that piques your interest, and you nod enthusiastically to show your agreement. at which, he bend over and places a firm kiss against your forehead, while cupping your chin, "there's my angel." he rasps, "my employee of the month."

YAMAGUCHI & TSUKISHIMA paid extra to be roommates in college. little did they know, the fee they paid only guaranteed that they would be put in a room together, and not that no one else will be in their dorm with them. and that's how they met you.

thankfully you were chill though, the three of you got on quite well. there were two rooms in the flat — tsukki and yams shared one, and you got the other one. another girl was supposed to move into your room but she ended up dropping out. which was probably for the best, another person's presence might've disturbed the very delicate relationship the three of you have.

which basically means, the two of them are bests friend and they both think they are fucking you behind the other's back.

you knew you were into both of them at the same time, and at any point you could've pulled the plug on the whole charade and come clean, but you love the thrill of it. how tsukishima would ghost his fingers over your clit under the table while you all ate dinner together. or how you'd attempt the world's fastest quickie with yamaguchi whenever tsukishima would step outside of the flat for ten minutes to smoke. and how your heart would race in your chest as you both are half-naked, scrambling to get your clothes on when you could hear tsukishima's keys jaggling in the door.

thankfully you made it just in time, and tsukishima was way too tired to notice that you were wearing a karasuno hoodie and yamaguchi was wearing your lace cami.

regardless, you managed to keep this ploy going for almost a year. but as they say, all good things must come to an end. and that day came in the form of the night after your final exam for the semester, and the three of you were celebrating by boozing in your flat.

you started in the kitchen, making all sorts of concoctions out of the drinks you had splurged on. every single thing you made tasted vile and had around 60% alcohol content. you'd throw a splash of orange juice into a jug of everclear, pour into fancy glasses and call that a cocktail. cheers!

next, you migrated to their bedroom to do shots off the radiator. truthfully, you all calmed down a bit by then. each of them were sat on their own beds, and you were sprawled on the floor in the centre. you each had your own beverage and would sip it casually while recollecting on this last semester at college.

finally, once it got dark outside, you stumbled into the living room and plopped yourselves down in front of the tv to watch the bachelor and play a drinking game. however, around three episodes in, you were all so wasted you could hardly look at any more alochol, and were more absorbed into the show.

or, at least, they were. you were in a predicament. sandwiched between two cute guys on the couch, but if you were to make a move on one of them, the other would undoubtedly notice and that would spoil your entire shenanigan that you spend the whole year honing.

but fortunately, you were far too drunk to care.

without thinking much of it, your left hand moved slyly, hidden under the dark, towards yamaguchi's elastic waistband, playing with his drawstrings idly. his uncertain gaze met your own — and if it wasn't for the fact his better judgement was nullified, he would've immediately jolted away from this situation. but for some reason, he stayed docile and doting as you slipped your hand into his trousers to handle his hastily growing erection.

your eyes remain locked to each other, until tsukishima must've finally noticed the suspicious motion out of the corner of his eye, as he sits upright and yells, "what the hell are you—" evidently he was going to call to question you pumping his best friend right beside him on the couch, but you were quick to shut him up by snaking your other arms behind his neck and pulling him in close for a passionate kiss.

he's stiff and apprehensive at first, but it doesn't take long for him to melt into your touch, and your kiss gets so heated you're basically moaning into each other, lips weaving together fiercely and only parting for brief gasps for air.

of course yamaguchi noticed this too, but he was so out of it, he couldn't find it in himself to care — with the fuzzy drunk feeling, and the salacious stimulation from the friction of your palms against his cock, he was on cloud 9 and there was nothing that could bring him down. if anything, the sight of you and his best friend making out only turned him on more.

tsukishima's hands began to wander as you kissed; fondling your tits and pulling the neckline of you tanktop down so he could roll your pebbled nippled between his fingers. "tsukki.." you whined into his mouth, and he only glared down at you through his foggy glasses. "i need you inside me.."

before tsukishima had a chance to respond, yamaguchi must've overheard your request and thought it was directed at him, as he grabbed you by your hips and lifted you onto his lap, where his firm cock stood against his abdomen. you squealed slightly as this happened and held onto tsukki's shoudler for stability.

momentarily, their goals aligned simultaneously and both of their hands gripped onto the top of your pyjama pants and began tugging them down urgently; tsukishima working on getting your right leg out while yamaguchi did your left. and before you knew it, your bottom half was entirely bare as you were slumped back on yamaguchi's lap.

you could feel the imprint of yamaguchi's dick on your lower back and it was incredibly stiff. it was a miracle he had the patience to reach forward and massage your damp folds. tsukishima did something similar. he was sat beside you and it didn't take long before you both started kissing again, but this time it was less feverish and more gentle, fleeting even. and his fingers were glued to your cunt too, but unlike yamaguchi, he was nothing but an agitator. he'd pinch your clit and tug at your labia and tease your sopping hole, all while chuckling lowly into the kiss whenever he would elicit any kind of irritated reaction from you.

"ow, kei.." you moaned.

yamaguchi also noted what his friend was doing and huffed, "leave her alone, tsukki.. be gentle.." you pout and gently nod in agreement with yamaguchi's statement, and tsukishima simply rolls his eyes.

in contrast to his previous proclaimation, yamaguchi utilises his hold on your hips to hover you over his lap slightly, allowing him enough space to navigate his cock towards your puckered asshole. you're so absorbed in your kiss with tsukishima and his fiendish touches on your cunt that you don't realise what yamaguchi is doing until he's already sunk his throbbing tip into your hole.

your face contorts to reflect the lewd stretching sensation he's brought upon you and a whiny moan is ripped out of your throat. " ta— adashi!"

tsukishima is able to infer what's happened from your shriek-like moaning, and an amused smirk spreads across his lips, "what happened to being gentle?" he commented sarcastically, and you're too overcome by the conjestive sensation of yamaguchi's cock worming into your tight ass to even bother pay tsukki any mind. but tadashi did glare daggers at him on your behalf.

yamaguchi cradles your waist in his hands and tenderly rubs your supple skin, attempting to relax you to aid your hole accepting the rest of his length. "almost there, that's it." he muses quietly into your ear as you slowly fit more of him inside you. and with one last deep breath, you're able to reach his base. "there we go." yamaguchi praises.

"ngh!" you groan in triumph, chest heaving at the mental energy took just to try fight against your restrictive walls. but oh, it felt so rewarding to win.

tsukishima clicked his tongue, leaning back against the couch while his hand lazily made it's way between your thighs and inserted it's digits into your slobbering hole. so wet that your juices were foaming around his knuckles, as he curled them inside your pussy.

although he was silently jealous that yamaguchi was the one who was balls-deep in you, he couldn't falt his friend for taking the initiative. plus, it meant he got the pleasure of watching the erotic show that was your facial expressions while trying to take dick; your eyes would screw shut and your pretty lips would press together in discomfort, and your perky tits would bounce around when you would constantly shift yourself to angle his cock better inside you, but clearly all your efforts were futile.

but now yamaguchi wasn't doing anything. he wasn't taking advantage of the oppertunity like he should be. he just laid there like a dead-fish, in tsukishima's eyes. but what kei wasn't seeing, was how yamaguchi was revelling in the unreal sensation of your ass clinging onto him. even without stimulation it was enough to get him off and get him high.

but tsukishima was just bored. even if his fingers were buried in your cunt and your lips were peppering kisses on his neck. so he had nothing better to do than turn the tv back on with his spare hand.

and that's how the three of you spent a considerable portion of the night — with your ass cockwarming yamaguchi's throbbing erection, and tsukishima's fingers terrorising your poor pussy.

and of course the next morning was spent cleaning absurd amount of alochol, cum squirt and other bodily fluids off a couch that didn't belong to you.

BOKUTO & ATSUMU were both slumped on the bench after a long day of training with the MSBY jackals. it was especially intense and laborious today as they have a big game tomorrow, so the pressure is truly on. the two of them were both sat, sipping their water bottles and cooling down while talking about their upcoming match, until their assistant manager approached them.

"how are you feeling about tomorrow, guys?" you ask cheerily, holding their volleyball under your arm.

they glance nervously between each other; a strange sight from two men who are usually confident and upbeat. "uh.." atsumu starts, avoiding eye-contact by means of looking anywhere else.

"could be better." bokuto finishes his teammate's sentence with an awkwardly wide smile.

"awh, yeah. it's a lot of pressure, huh?" you chirp, and if it were coming from anyone but you, it would probably be patronising. with an innocent tilt of your head, you inquire, "anything i can do to help take away some of the stress?"

bokuto and atsumu both stare up at you with wide-eyes, and then turn to each other in unison.

what you had in mind was more to do with preparing their meals or helping them take their equitment to their car, but their idea works too.

in the jackals changing room, they had you bend over in between them. bokuto was sloppily pounding into your pussy with his monster cock while you were leaned over just enough that you were able to suck atsumu's dick at the same time.

at first it was a very strenous position, but eventually they ended up doing all the work. your knees just about went limp as soon as bokuto jammed his full length into your wet cunt, so he had his arm hooked under your abdomen to hold you up. to the point where your feet were basically hovering milimeters above the ground.

meanwhile, atsumu kept a firm grip on your hair and ensured you were slurping up every last inch of his cock. he'd grind into your face, enthralled by the way you were forced to deepthroat him and would moan lewdly into his base, "shit! good girl." he roared in pleasure. and since he towered over you, he was easily able to lean over and plant a harsh smack on your ass, with a hearty chuckle.

bokuto watched the jiggle and with a goofy smile plastered on his face, "yeah, good girl," he repeated, landing another spank right on your other ass cheek. however, he doesn't know his own strength at times and his slap actually stung, which caused you to instinctually gasp with atsumu's cock in your mouth.

and that really seemed to do it for him.

"what a naughty slut for daddy, huh?" he gritted, cradling your chin in his hands, "tryin' to impress me or something?"

tears prick at your lashline as you gaze up at him innocently. but there's nothing innocent about the way he shoves his cock into your mouth, or the way your tits sway as bokuto thrusts manically into your pussy.

"nasty bitch.. wanna impress me?" something about the way you feign purity really turns him on though, and that's what prompts him to keep an iron hold on your hair, even as he reaches his climax. "swallow it all like a good whore." he grits with a crazed smile. groans stumble off his tongue as spurts of his hot cum lauch down your throat, and you do what your told and swallow it all, not that you're given much of a choice.

"y-yeah.. just like that. fuck yeah, drink it all up, (y/n). drink it up for daddy." he grumbles with his head tossed back in ecstasy. all the while, bokuto is still relentlesly piercing into your tight cunt, basically splitting you in half with both his pace and his length. the twitching veins of his cock rub deliciously against your spongy walls, and are sure to send you over the edge any second n—

"uh, excuse me."

hm. perhaps it was due to atsumu's obnoxiously vocal orgasm, or bokuto's loud and passionate moans, or perhaps the sheer volume of the squelching noise eminating from your soaked pussy, but none of you were able to hear sakusa approaching and entering the msby jackal changing room.

thus, he was stood awkwardly by the enterance, staring at your current circumstance.

"uh, kiyoomi.." atsumu heaves, trying to focus his eyes after the post-orgasmic haze. "want to join?"

"always room for another bro." bokuto chimes in with a innocuous smile.

sakusa shuffles his feet slightly, wavering between staying and confronting the situation or just heading straight for the door like this gut wanted him to. but when he catches a glimpse of your cute face, still stuffed with atsumu's cock, and your ass in the air, grinding against bokuto's chest, that is enough to win him over.

"sure.."

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