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taekozuyang · 1 year
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the line between us
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⭒ suna rintarou x fem!reader
⭒ tags: fbw to lovers (?) | angst | love triangle | emotionally constipated suna | ARAN APPEARS HERE and he's the only person with actual braincells, we love him for that
⭒ nsfw tags: face fucking | oral sex | nipple pinching (punishment) | booty calls | mentions of penetration | let me know if i miss anything
⭒ wc: 5.1k
ㅡafter the stunt pulled at the party, you find yourself with an answer you seeked for but wished never had to know.
a/n: a repost (tho i took down the first one hours after its release) bc i finally, for the love of god, proofread this. it's not perfect but it's the best it can get. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this. sympathize with me, cry with me. goodluck ;)
the drabble i based this off | part 1
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the morning has been dragging you out as though you could sense every student's wasted energy from last weekend's party. even you have not recovered from the events that unraveled that nightㅡalbeit, a particular blonde made it almost unforgettable. he made it clear to leave a receipt, a topic to gossip about on a sober monday morning.
"you're dating y/n?!" the blonde announces in an obnoxiously loud voice.
to be fair, how could not one's ear be piqued by a controversial statement? even you, the subject of the news, had your eyes goggling at osamu's twin, the infamous blonde setter who broke the news to everyone, miya atsumu.
osamu peels his head away from the fake kiss to look at his brother with a face you could imagine, embarrassed or worse horrified. his face instantly beats red, which does not help at all because it made him look guilty. in a snap, everyone's eyes were on you. a spectacle in a midst of a bleak university life.
"since when?! i thought you guys were just friends?" as atsumu pressed it became more complicated.
if osamu denies dating then the plan will collapse in a matter of seconds all because of his brother's nosiness. besides, osamu is concerned about you. he knows that putting a label on a romantic relationship is a concept hard for you to grasp. he does not want to make you feel uncomfortable by insensitively claiming that you both are dating. thus, the best response he could muster is to divert the attention.
"what's with that ugly expression on your face?" he insults him with his biggest pride (aside from being one of japan’s best setter) "and what's it with you if i am or am not dating (y/n)? it's not like you don't know her."
as atsumu theatrically gasps out loud, his drink spilling over the rim of his cup at his sudden movement your eyes gravitate toward the far corner of the room so easily as though being with him for more than a year or so made you instinctively find him in a crowded room. all faces turn blank as you spot him standing alone with a cup in hand and eyes locked with yours. he neither moved a muscle nor stray his focus from you. instead, he stares at you as if the argument between the twins and the loud music in the room vanishes into white noise. he was hard to read. he appeared as if he was the person you first met, and not the one you spent rainy days in bed, clothed with nothing but his arms around your naked waist.
in the end, osamu was forced to give a vague answer to redeem the situation. "maybe, we're dating. maybe, we're not." up until today atsumu has no idea of the truth.
no one knows the truth of your petty revenge.
today, you thought of giving back to osamu by baking him snacks during the food laboratory. it's a recipe you came up with for a project. you made it a point to make more than you are required so both you and osamu can share, like you always do. bonding over food has become a thing between the two of you.
monday is the only time of the week when you do not share a class with your friend and the only chance you get to meet him is when you cross paths at the corridor, which happened just now.
"samu!" you greet from a distance, your free hand waving at him. osamu reciprocates by flashing a smile.
"hey." he says, catching his breath as he jogs toward you. "do you have class after four?" he asks. when you utter no, his face lights up. "can you please do me a favor? my professor messed up my schedule."
"sure, as long as it's anything within my capacity," osamu lets out a relieved sigh.
"here," handing you a camera in his hand, you can already tell what it's about. "i promised tsum to record their practice game today at four but i couldn't since my professor is calling us for an unannounced consultation."
"this technically works in atsumu's favor." you arch a brow making the other pull the corner of his lips upward.
"i know my brother is a bit of an ass but i want to support him. i'm pursuing my passion and so does he, and he supports me with my cooking. i do not want to let him down today since this practice match is important to him and his team. so, technically..." he copies your wording endearingly as he suppresses a smile (how can you say no at this point??) "...it is important to me too. It’s a favor that works two ways, me and atsumu's but i'd say more of me since i do not want to get an earful from him when we get home so can you do this for me, please? pleaaase?"
you playfully roll your eyes as you say a half-hearted, "fine."
"yes! thank you! thank you!" osamu leans forward to catch you in a tight embrace. he pulls back to look at you at an arm's length. "i'll do anything to pay back the favor."
"you don't have to."
"no, i insist."
"samu, honestly, i'm in debt. i have to pay you back twice for the party last weekend."
"hm?" osamu angles his head to the side. "that's not a favor, it worked to my advantage too." you blink at him twice, confused if you heard him right.
"what?" but just as you asked, he shoves the camera in your hand as he walks past you.
"unimportant, bye!" he waves goodbye, leaving you baffled as you peer at both of your hands full of... wait... the food!
"samu, wait! the snack!" you lift a tight container in the air. "i baked these for you!"
instantly, osamu runs back to you with a grin that reaches his ears as you open the lid of the container. he takes a piece and bites large, enough to fill the sides of his cheeks. he thanks you hurriedly and wastes no time by briskly walking back down the hallway. a few steps away, he turns to look through his shoulder,
"ginger and cinnamon?! you're a mad scientist! when did you become a fan of cinnamon? it's on your every dish but it tastes good so i have zero complaints! thank you, (y/n)!" his comment makes you chuckle out loud only to be abruptly stopped by a realization that came after his innocent words. at that moment, your heart sinks gradually and silently into the depths of an open sea. it makes no noise, no signs of falling into a trap of nothingness that slowly turned into a tinge of pain. unable to grasp, your legs remained unmoved.
cinnamon.
he loves cinnamon.
on days spent with you, suna basks himself in the warmth of your apartment and fresh bakes. he told you that he loves cinnamon and you find it telling of his personality. like a cinnamon scent, his outer physique holds a hint of spice and mystery, one that reels you in. but as you devour it, rolling it at the back of your tongue and savoring every ounce of its taste, you relish sweetness. it is him, in every aspect, it is him.
osamu leaves you to your thoughts as the gray-headed misses to take a cue from your running mind. you are far more affected by suna than you thought. you were used to orbiting each other's ecliptics that losing him means losing your balance. it takes it in you to harden your knees and turn your feet into motion. when did you end up being so emotionally affected by someone?
you empty your mind as you walk to the gym, debriefing yourself on the task at hand. when you arrived, the volleyball team is already doing rounds of warm-ups as the visiting university settles their things on the other side of the court. atsumu immediately sees you as he turns a lap, face contorting into a confused look. soon, he approaches you before the practice game begins.
"i'm samu's sub." you say when he nears you.
"how kind of you. is this your way of putting your best foot forward so i can approve you as my twin's girlfriend?" you almost choke, almost. right, he didn't know. you make a mental note to tell osamu that he should let his twin know or else his mouth will cause you both a problem.
"but seriously," atsumu takes the water bottle next to you then uncaps it before taking a gulp. he takes the bottle away from his mouth and speaks. "take care of samu. he may appear unfeeling most of the time but he's a 'lil softy inside. when we were young i cry out loud in front of many making me the expressive and loud twin while he remains the calm, emotionally stable one. though i always catch him crying alone in our room."
atsumu is beginning to believe that you are officially dating his brother and something about what he said puts a weight on your shoulder. although bringing you as his date to the party to show it off to suna is his plan, you do not want to hurt him in any way possible. if your pretentious act will stir him into an issue he does not want to be involved in, you have no one else but to blame yourself. after all, he did it for you.
a man walks up to atsumu and before he could utter a word his eyes met yours. a subtle surprise makes his brow twitch as he sees you holding the miya’s camera.
"you're here." aran states the obvious.
"yep, i'll record the practice match. oh! speaking of i can send you a file too just give me your email."
"sure, it's ojiro underscore-" you cut him off, smiling to him shyly.
"no! there's no way i'll remember that. send it to me over sms. i think you have my number."
"do i?" he asks though it seemed as if he's asking himself rather than you. he shrugs, "if i don't i'll ask rintarou."
a prominent pound in your chest vibrates through your ribs as his name is spoken. You have lost grip on the situation before you as you ponder. why do you feel this way? he’s meant to be just your fuck buddy, a man that warms your bed when the night feels cold, nothing more. but why... why do you feel this way?
"your ex." atsumu fails to read the room. aran side-glances him as he damps his face with a towel.
"we were not dating." you point out with gritted teeth. atsumu is once again intrigued.
"'were'." he repeats to himself. "right, 'cause you're currently dating osamu." aran looks at you then back to atsumu then back to you again obviously eavesdropping. just when you thought his mouth will cause you and his brother a problem, he brings it to you the earliest possible. aran is suna's closest friend. if there is anyone who knows suna like the back of their hand, it is aran.
taking a swift glance at aran who is currently busy folding his towel, thus you take this chance to round your eyes at the blonde and point to the man next to him using your eyes. with a forced smile, you wish for atsumu to take a hint. "you know what tsumu, let's talk about it some other time."
he looks at aran briefly before turning to you with his brows pressed to the center. although hesitant, atsumu nods. "alright, you and samu need to explain a lot of things, and you guys might need time too. i don't mind waiting, okay? just in the meantime please be gentle with him. and don’t tell him I said that!” he points at you defensively making you laugh.
“aw, aren’t you a sweet brother?” as you tease him, the deeper the creases on his face appears making his the top of cheeks round like steamed buns.
ultimately, atsumu leaves you to your task as he jogs to the court for the practice match. aran, on the other hand, did not say anything about you dating osamu but instead said his thanks for recording the match.
by the time the practice match ended, the sun has long set. even though tonight may be the ideal time to walk back to your apartment under the shadows of moonlight, the heavy rain pour stops you. worse, it won't let you go home. you left your umbrella at your place again, a bad habit you have since. hence, you're stuck at the sports building. the only way for you to go home without getting all soaked up is through atsumu who is still in the meeting with their coach which takes hours to finish including the allotted time for a cool down and stretching and tidying up the court or you can wait for the storm to pass by which may also take hours or a day even since it shows no signs of stopping.
having left with no choice, you bounce on the balls of your feet as you stare outside. the loud splatter of rain on the roof and cement deafens your hearing which made it impossible for you to hear the footsteps coming from behind. an oversized leather jacket drops on your head, therefore, snapping you to divert your attention at the source. before you could see the person's face, his voice says it all.
"you never bring your umbrella." suna says, walking past you with a hood over his head and hands tucked inside the pocket of his pants. he spare you a look as the image of him blends in with the rain.
it was the first time he spoke to you since the event at the pumpkin patch. the day you never felt the same.
you reach home half-wet and half-not. the bottom of your legs down to your feet is soaked making the feel of your shoes and socks icky from rain but from your waist up to your face is dry thanks to suna's leather jacket.
upon entering your apartment, a dilemma keeps your feet glued next to the coat rack. you do not like seeing a piece of his clothing that line his silhouette out in the space where you can see at any point in your small apartment but you must hang it or else you will leave droplets of water on the floor. call it pathetic but you do not want to be reminded of him. remembering him brings a wave of emotions you are not accustomed to, one that you have not completely deciphered yet.
torn, you leave it on the floor. shriveled into a pile of black making it hard to recognize as a piece of clothing. that is not the best solution and you should not be doing this but it works for now. satisfied, you leave it at your doorstep as you head to your room to change.
---
what was once a daily chore for suna suddenly turn foreign to him after a prolonged time of abstinence but it does not miss the fact that his body still knows how to pleasure an expectant doe beneath him.
"fuck me in the face, suna." the girl from his class drags her lips from the column of his neck down to his collarbones. when she attempts to suck on his skin to leave a mark, suna pinches her nipples as a punishment.
"i said no to hickeys." suna glares at her and all she could do is whine and pout her lips. but when he was with you, he would let you do anything. he would let you pepper his skin with bruised kisses, marking every inch of his body and oddly suna became fond of it. he looks at himself through the mirror with traces of you after morning and mornings could not be better than it was. having realized what he is thinking and feeling pathetic to reminiscing about you in a midst of having sex, suna lowers his body to the woman. to cloud his thoughts, he hovers her completely about to shove his cock again into her sensitive pussy when she stops him mid-doing so.
"not now, it hurts. you fucked me hard i can't take another round." the edge of her manicured nails graze softly on his jawline. the other hand scratching his back down from his shoulder blades down to his inner thighs. "but if you let me..." suna groans from the touch of her hand around his length. she teases him more by moving her hand slowly up and down. she caresses his tip using her thumb which causes suna to shut his eyes. his reaction fuels the girl's confidence, therefore, sliding down beneath him and between his thighs, arms pressing his waist down to her face.
suna steadies his balance by holding onto the headboard of the bed. his body gains its motion, banging his hips against her face, cock deep down on her throat. wet moans escape from his lips as she sucks harder, lips tightening around his hardened cock, and tongue dancing at every thrust he gives. lust and pleasure build in his core which pushes suna to gain speed. choking noises and groans fill the small room as the girl begs for more and suna gives exactly what she asks.
though he is reluctant to admit it, the past few days of shared awkward glances and cold shoulders have taken a toll on him. he should not be disappointed because who you are to him should be nothing more than friends with benefits. but something about how you carried yourself to the party, hand anchored over some guy's arm as you giggle at whatever lame joke the miya told you that he couldn't easily brush off. more so when you looked at him from a distance like a stranger and not a person whom you spent more than a year with.
drooling on suna's precum and her saliva, the girl's soft cries tangles with his stuttered breathing. Her jaw tenses but when she feels suna's thigh tense and his hips jerking, a sign that he is about to cum she welcomes every thrust. she wants the infamous suna rintarou of the fine arts department to cum at her disposal.
meanwhile, he blocks any thoughts of you in his head as he focuses on cumming in her mouth. albeit, the girl encourages him as she closes her lips around his digit. soon, a rush of intensity overcomes his body. he shudders as his thighs constricts and lose strength. It is not long when he finally reaches his orgasm. it takes a few lazy pumps in her mouth for him to ejaculate. the girl swallows as she searches for his eyes. however, suna’s lids are shut as he leans his face on his forearm resting on top of the headboard. he takes his softened cock from her mouth before lying on the bed beside her. not a few minutes in, his phone rings to a call. suna curses under his breath as he is forced to push himself up. due to lack of strength, he slides from the bed to the carpeted floor to reach for his phone tucked inside the pocket of his pants scattered on the floor.
"hello?" he says in short breaths.
"so, it's true." the boy says without a context making suna pull the phone away from his ear to read the contact name. it reads 'ojiro aran'.
"about what?" the girl crawls up next to him, kissing the back of suna's ear.
"about (y/n). damn, i thought you were reading things wrong."
"what about her?" just as suna asked, the girl cooed for him to come back to bed, trailing kisses on his neck to lure him to cuddle her.
"jesus fucking-, i heard that. i heard that! you know what. nevermind." a sound of a ceramic cup hitting the wooden center table resonates from the other line along with aran's frustrated tone.
"no, no, don't hang up." suna utters hurriedly before covering the microphone of his pocket device. he turns around to mouth "i can't." to the girl. he takes his boxers tossed near his pants only to be rendered to a deflated beat on the other line.
aran did hang up.
suna was quick on redialing his friend's number and to his luck, aran answered almost immediately.
"don't leave me hanging." he gathers his clothes on the floor before heading straight to the bathroom.
"if i hear another moan from a girl i fucking swear i will not answer your call again."
"it's barely a moan but yeah, yeah, whatever. she's not here." there is a short pause at the end before aran asks, voice threading on thin ice.
"that girl... that isn't (y/n), is it?" although the answer to it is obvious, it took suna a couple of seconds to respond. last month he was enjoying a free taste of a muffin, cookie, a bun, and more all with the soft kick and aroma of cinnamon. with you time seems to slow down, watching movies, fucking until both of you are breathless, and talking about random things until sleep finds its way on your lids. but now is different. he stands inside an acquaintance's bathroom with a fresh scent of lemon and sweets, far from how he remembers you.
"no." suna utters in a low tone.
"on a scale of one to ten, how fucked are you? how can you mess this up?! i was rooting for you guys!" suna remains silent as he bites on his molars. aran begins to narrate. "she was at the practice game this afternoon and saw her talking to miya. i approached them and she asked me if i wanted the file, volleyball stuff. anyway, after that atsumu was damned serious about the topic they were talking about. you know, i can only count the times he was serious about something using one hand, volleyball included."
"were they talking about the incident at the party?" suna sits on the toilet cover as he listens intently.
"i am not sure if it was regarding that night but atsumu was asking (y/n) to take care of his brother since they're dating. i'm starting to believe something is going on between osamu and (y/n). i mean, (y/n) doesn't date, just like you, and for her to ‘date’ osumu… hah! this is a stretch for her. she even took osamu’s spot as a recorder at today’s practice match." aran waits for him to say anything but the other kept his tongue stuck to his throat. the boy asks. "have you talked to her?"
suna mumbles a weak "no."
"why not?"
"i don't know! she's not texting me!" frustrated, suna's voice increases in volume.
"well, have you tried reaching her?"
"no!"
"then, you're officially stupid! all you have to do is ask her why. is that hard to do?! for fucks sake you've slept with countless women but you still have zero ideas on how to deal with them?!" aran argues which heats the conversation even more.
"exactly! i only fuck with them but i never..." lost with words and unable to describe moments with you, suna curses out loud. "fuck this! fuck me! i fucking hate all of this!"
the boy with parted raven hair storms out of the apartment of the girl he barely remembers the name of and lets his feet take him anywhere. he never minds the heavy downpour of rain over his head. his thoughts are running fast, jumbled, and tangled into loops. aran's narrative and advice ring through his ears as doubts and feelings of betrayal resurfaces. out of all men in this world, you're dating someone whom suna kept a keen eye on. he was certain osamu had feelings for you long ago but you refuse to believe, teasing him about old foe jealousy. suna wasn't jealous. he can keep up with his lifestyle of sleeping with multiple women without feeling sheer jealousy when they turn to somebody else. it is something that never bothers him, or so he thinks.
his confidence is shaken when he finds himself knocking on a familiar door.
--
changing to comfortable oversized clothes and having a warm meal is not quite enough to change your thoughts on suna's leather jacket. you eye the innocent clothing lying on the floor begging to be picked up and hung over the hook like the others. if the jacket could speak it would have shouted at you to treat it fairly like the others on the rack.
"but your owner is a prick," you speak bitterly. great, now you're talking to a jacket. what's next? his shirt in your drawer? his phone number? his pictures on your phone? this is beginning to feel like an actual break up and it's causing you energy. you don't want to deal with these kinds of problems, mainly the reason why you never commit to a relationship.
when you were about to turn your face away from the front door, soft knocks on the door echoed.
"coming." you shout monotonously, dragging your feet to the door and freezing when the lights flicker. the thunder and lightning, heavy rain pouring, and unstable electricity power makes the scene before you like a deja vu of a horror film. after all, who the hell is visiting you at ten in the evening? and on a freaking stormy monday?
unlocking the barrel and twisting the knob open, you hesitantly pull on the door. behind it is the last person you expected. drenched and quivering in the rain and cold but he does not seem to mind or rather notice. however, his eyelids peel open when he sees you at the doorstep as though he, too, was clueless and surprised to see you.
"what are you doing here?" with a wide-eyed gaze your heart pounds in your chest. this is the first time you ever to talked to him in weeks.
"i-, a-are you," he stammers, swallowing thickly to regain his composure. he starts on the wrong foot. "why are you ignoring me?"
"rin, it's-" he cuts you off abruptly and fear comes alive when he asks.
"is it true? are you dating osamu?"
"listen, rin. i think you should-"
"tell me!" he shouts, a nerve on his forehead protruding from tension. "do you like him?! have you fallen for him?! do you imagine him as we fuck?!"
"NO! GOD, NO!" you scream. the sky rumbles and a harsh gust of wind swirls the trees into a stoic dance. the storm is with you. it unleashes wrath so you do not have to lose control. on the other hand, suna loses it.
"THEN, WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?!" at that moment, you too fell into the pit of wrath.
"AND WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KISS HER IN FRONT OF ME?!" as if the rain is not enough to fill the gutter with pools of rainwater, the clouds burst. gradually, water breaks through the edges to rush through the drainages, like your tears that had overflown your lids, forming streaks of rivers on your cheeks.
your silent cry snapped suna back to his senses, stunned that he had made you cry. he did not intend to confront you in an argument nor did he wish for the situation to worsen, but in a matter of a minute or so, he made it happen. He runs his tongue over his dried purple lips and catches you off guard when he closes the gap, hand meeting with the side of your face. his thumb catches a tear as worry replaces anger on his face.
"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you cry. i shouldn't have raised my voice at you. i'm sorry, i'm sorry." he hushes you with a soothing voice. both of his hands on your face holding you like a fragile ornament ready to break anytime pressure is applied. the tip of his nose brushes against yours as your foreheads connect, and he dips in. a pair of cold lips touch yours in a prolonged peck before he draws back.
"kiss me back." yearning laces in his voice that almost convinces you to do just as you were told when he leans to steal another kiss. he urges you to move your mouth with his but he is left to an unmoving pair. he pulls back just enough for him to speak. "why won't you kiss me?" he pleads in question so gently that it breaks your heart.
"i can't." you lower your head down, unable to meet his gaze.
"why not?" his lids flutter open as he tilts your chin to search for your eyes.
"i can't do this with you. we have to stop."
"i don't understand." his thumb rubs circles on your cheeks and his brows pulled lower.
"it's not the same, at least for me."
it all makes sense now. everything that you felt from the day you saw him kiss a woman at the pumpkin patch to having him hold you in this manner. how thoughts of him perceiving you similarly to every other girl he slept with burn holes in your chest. how he made you feel special, how he treated you special. how he kissed no one but you, touched no one but you. in a dreamlike glimpse, you were convinced that you are more than just a body count on his list. that maybe, he felt it too. maybe, you are an exception. maybe, he can feel for you too.
"i'm greedy. i'm selfish. i'm not the same." you mutter, brows pressed gently to form a crease on your forehead. you lock eyes with him. "i want something you can never give."
in finality, the heavens wail for your broken heart. for a second you thank a friend for crying with you, holding you through your first heartbreak. and you hoped that as the storm past by, it washes off the pain that left your heart.
then, all of a sudden just before your mouth opens to speak your final words, the electricity in your apartment went off.
a temporary silence,
a temporary death.
breaths together in a still room,
you bleed your heart open.
"i want all of you."
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thank you for reading! as per usual, likes and rbs are very much appreciated. i also accept screaming keyboard smash as feedbacks, thanks lol.
masterlist | hq.list
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taekozuyang · 1 year
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REQUESTS: OPEN!
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ㅡplease help me fend off my writer's block.
currently, my brain is not generating good ideas or new concepts so i'm literally stuck right now even if i try to write a few words a day. hence, i'm opening my ask box for requests!
▪︎ haikyuu!!, jjk, and tokyo rev
▪︎ sfw and nsfw (nsfw will be done on my nsfw blog @taekozuyang. anon and ageless senders are not allowed)
▪︎could be anything, really, like
"be poetic about bokuto's thighs."
"simp over nanami kento."
"who among the boys of tokyo rev would most likely to cheat."
"hurt me with sakusa."
"who is the best kisser in tokyo rev?"
i'll write either a hc, drabble, or a one shot. it depends on where my brain will take me. though i may take time to do them, well, that's because i have my personal life too and of course.. writer's block, damn it!!
so yeah, please send them in if you have ideas. i don't bite, i swear. if your request is too difficult for me to write about i'll tell you (like i always do) otherwise, if i have not said anything about your request it's either i'm working on it/considering it or it has failed to land in my ask box.
that's all, thanks!
masterlist
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taekozuyang · 2 years
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bokuto often fucks you in missionary cause he loves feeling you claw at his back while he’s deep inside you. the feeling of pain mixed with a bit of pleasure always thrills him. 
you’ve got your legs wrapped around him tightly, your hands pinned above your head while he placed wet, sloppy kisses on your lips. he steadily rocks his hips into yours and he can feel that you’re close. he doesn’t need to stimulate you any more than he was with the way his happy trail softly brushed your clit each time his hips meet yours. 
you being to moan uncontrollably, whimpering his name as you squirm under him. he wants to cum with you, so he lets go of your wrist, and your arms quickly wrap around his neck. you both are now a moaning mess as his hips snap into yours. he’s hitting the spot so good you can’t help but dig your nails into his back, clawing at the supple skin when you finally gush around his length. 
bokuto hisses at the feeling, head now buried in the croak of your neck as he fuck you both through your orgasms. 
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taekozuyang · 2 years
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COLLAB EVENT
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ㅡprompt: what happens on the night of valentine’s day?
open to all writers, nsfw or sfw.
♡ DURATION: works will be revealed on the 14th of February 2023 but all should be done on or before the 28th February 2023. if extensions are needed kindly approach me before the said date.
♡ TO JOIN:
ˏˋ⋆ ̥send in an ask through my inbox or dm me :)
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥once you have joined, i will announce it on my main blog and add your (working) title on the masterlist below!
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♡ GENERAL RULES:
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥your work should revolve around the theme valentine’s day and must include the prompt above.
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥minimum of 500 words and maximum of 20k words.
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥can be fluff, angst, first meetings, break ups, soulmates, fuck buddies, accidental confessions, mutual pining, major character death, love triangle, first dates, anything!! the sky’s the limit.
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥fandoms, mainly: haikyuu!!, jujutsu kaisen, & tokyo revengers.
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥open to other fandoms as long as i am familiar with the media. dm/send an ask to inquire! (but if you can write for the three fandoms above, then that’s better)
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥pairings can be character x character, character x y/n, character x multiple characters
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥make sure to link this post on your work and mention the collab.
-ˏˋ⋆ ̥if your work is sfw, kindly tag @taeyamayang
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taekozuyang · 2 years
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A Show of Gratitude
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PAIRING: timeskip!Miya Osamu x fem!reader
GENRE: wee bit of angst/comfort | smut (18+)
Minors DNI
TAGS + WARNINGS: nipple play, light manhandling, masturbation (m and f), fingering, oral (f receiving), cum eating, praise kink, size kink (kind of)
Let me know if I missed anything.
WORD COUNT: 7.1k
SUMMARY: As a thank you for shining a spotlight on Onigiri Miya, Osamu invites you over for dinner (and dessert). All characters are 18+
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
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Osamu raises a brow at you, though more out of amusement than cynicism. It suits him even, the somewhat teasing lift complimenting the blank expression he usually carries. His lips form a subtle pout—it’s cute, you think. It sends heat to your face, and you clear your throat before smoothing down your skirt. Who knew someone with a large build and resting neutral face could juxtapose all of that with a miniature shift in expression—
It’s been quiet for too long, you realize. 
Keep reading
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Text
# 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆 ! — ♡
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𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇: 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂
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pairing: kozume kenma x fem!reader w/c: 1.9k+ contains: consensual aphrodisiac use, face sitting/riding, minors DNI synopsis: kenma's not trick or treating, but this candy’s gonna give him one hell of a toothache.
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“Come here.” It’s a silly request, considering where you are when he makes it. Kenma’s arms are draped loosely around your waist, his face pressed into the back of your sweater. Your legs are curled up just in front of his, close enough that you can feel his knees pressing into the backs of yours. You exhale a laugh, locking the screen on your switch and putting an end to the bright colors, lights, and hyperactive music emitting from the screen. The device is tossed aside as you hop, twist, and shuffle in the sheets until you can face your boyfriend, small smile on your face as you push the long bangs from his face. 
“Hi,” you greet quietly, enjoying the sweet moment with Kenma. Your hands pull up between your bodies, fingers twisting into the baggy material of his t-shirt. 
“Can I tell you about something I wanna try?” You nod sleepily, resting your head against the pillow on your side of the bed when he immediately starts searching for something on his phone. Before you can even re-open your eyes, bright blue light is streaming from behind your lids. You squint at the screen, pushing his hand back so you can focus.
“Is that…an aphrodisiac?” you ask, already feeling a twitch in the pit of your stomach. Kenma nods, scrolling down to show you reviews.
“Yeah, looks like a lot of people said it works, too.” 
“You wanna try it?” you question, heartbeat racing at the idea of your boyfriend completely desperate, fucking you like it was his only salvation. That is, until he shakes his head, putting his phone away again and opting to grab your chin instead, forcing you to look at him. 
“I want you to try it.” There’s no hiding from him when he’s holding you like this- he can see that you have to swallow your saliva, completely obsessed with the idea. It doesn’t take you longer than a moment to agree, eagerly watching him order the lozenges that promised heightened arousal, already dripping before they’d even come.
“Are you sure this time?” you question, holding the truffle between your fingertips. “Ugh, it’s melting.”
“It’s chocolate, eat it.” Kenma sits on the couch just above where you rest on the floor, legs spread as he leans down to watch you closely. You grimace at the candy, praying this one wouldn’t be as nasty as some of the other ‘treats’ he’d given you. Thankfully, the chocolate is smooth with a sweet and rich flavor, melting easily against your tongue and leaving behind a chewy center. Once you swallow, Kenma’s hand is reaching down to cup your cheek, tilting your head up. “Show me.”
Eager to please, your lips part and fall, lolling your tongue out as you turn your head from side to side, showing him you’d eaten it all. “Good kitty.”
“Ugh, I told you not to call me that,” you groan, smacking his hand away gently. “Do you think it’ll be fast?” Kenma’s still chuckling when he shrugs, patting the seat next to him. 
“I don’t know, but come up here while we wait. You’ll hurt your knees.”
You oblige, sliding into place at his side, legs curled underneath you. “Where’d you even find it this time?” Kenma snorts, wrapping an arm around your back and tugging you into his chest.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answers. It’s your turn to laugh, accompanied by an eye roll while you get comfy.
“It’s gotta be a dud.”
“It’s only been a half hour,” Kenma laughs, pausing the video playing on screen to give you his full attention. “You don’t feel anything?”
It would be a lie to say you felt nothing- but that could be said about any of Kenma’s ventures into this field. Everything he’d given you had brought on at least a little jolt of excitement, made you feel a little more sensitive. You’re never sure if it’s a genuine effect from the products or if it’s just a placebo, though.
With a sigh, you pick at and fluff the hem of your skirt, shaking your head. “I’m gonna have to take over hunting these things down, you’re fired.” 
“As if, you’d never be able to find anything. You don’t know the internet like I do.” Kenma shifts in his seat to slip his phone out of his back pocket, brushing his arm against yours in the process. The touch of his skin against your own feels like a lick of pure fire, blazing up your limbs and into your core. By the time you turn your head to glance at the spot he touched, you can feel the pulsing of your brain. 
A shiver runs through your body, every nerve on edge and extra sensitive to the slow breeze of the air conditioning. “Kenma…” Your voice trails off as you feel the more physical effects take place, legs suddenly clenching together. By the time he looks up from his phone, it’s too late, you’re already grabbing at his body, nails digging into his arm and thigh. 
“Can you fe-”
“I need you right now.” You cut him off quickly, clenching and unclenching your core in hopes to relieve some of the aching emptiness.
“Oh, shit,” Kenma laughs, near giddy to see your reaction. “Yeah? Need it so bad, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll let you suck my di-” 
You cut him off with a whine, even as he pulls the elastic of his waistband down his thighs, letting his soft dick spill out. That isn’t enough, it won’t satisfy you the way you need. Without even thinking, you’re clambering over his body, pushing him back until he lay near flat- or close enough to it- on the couch. Before he can ask what you’re doing, you slam one knee on either side of his face and lower your hips, hiding his face under your skirt. 
“Fuck!” you almost scream when you can feel his hot and moist breath on your pussy, even through your panties. In your desperation, your hips begin rutting against him, and Kenma is quick to catch you, wrapping his arms around your thighs. His tongue presses to the seam of your underwear, inhaling sharply when he can taste your tang through the fabric.
But when he inhales, all he smells is you, all he tastes is you, and all he feels is you when he squeezes. All he can hear are your muffled whines and moans, so relieved from just the slightest amount of pleasure. You’re overwhelming his system, and he can feel himself falling dizzy under your intoxicating spell. 
Kenma’s tongue laves at your pussy over your panties until he gets frustrated and scoffs. With an annoyed flick of his wrist, he hooks them in his thumb, then peels them back and pins them to your thigh, exposing your dripping cunt. His eyes go wide, even in the low light streaming from under your skirt, because he can’t think of a time he’d seen you this wet, been so ready to take him.
Unfortunately, you don’t have the patience for him to admire the scenery, and Kenma winces at the sting of his hair being pulled under your knees as you try to grind against his tongue. “Relax,” he mumbles, kissing your clit with all the adoration he can offer. And then he’s attaching himself to you like a sex toy, tongueing and suckling your clit with hollowed out cheeks. He only parts to drink your juices up as they spill down his chin and neck, soaking the top of his hoodie. 
“Cumming!” you cry way too soon, fat tears overlooking your cheeks for a few moments before cascading down them anyway, completely overcome with pleasure. 
His grip on you grows stronger suddenly, pillow of your thighs squeezing out from between his fingers. His brain is only fuzzier and fuzzier as he drinks up your cum, but he never considers pulling back for air. He inhales a breath when he can, and uses the energy to taste more of you.
Even though you’ve just climaxed, your body feels like you’ve been on edge for hours- still so needy to cum again, again, and again. Your fingers shakily comb through the silky smooth roots of Kenma’s bangs before digging your nails into his scalp, locks of hair trapped tightly between the knuckles of your fists.
His moan vibrates against your cunt as he gulps your taste down and you can feel his body pitch as his hips thrust uselessly in the air, desperate for any kind of friction but finding nothing. The stinging of your tugging makes his cock strain, skin stretched tight and bobbing in the chilled air. You glance over your shoulder following the movement, cunt gushing at the erotic sight before you.
The skin is flushed angry pink and a steady supply of precum has leaked down the side, shiny and sticky to the touch, you’re sure. Suddenly, his tongue curling deep inside you doesn’t feel like enough- you feel achingly empty. 
With a noise of complaint, you raise your hips, using your grip on Kenma’s hair to keep him held down when he tries to chase after you. When his head thumps back against the couch, he inhales a gasp of breath, then pushes your skirt off his face to stare at you with wide eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Can I fuck you?” you ask, already shimmying your way down his body. He blinks at you a few times, hands now empty.
“Do you even have to ask?” he scoffs, rutting his hips up to grind against your dripping pussy the second you’re within reach. You swear loudly at the contact and your arms nearly give out, buckling at the elbow. Kenma is kind enough to help, reaching between your bodies to line himself up with your hole so you can sink your body onto his. 
You sigh in relief when you finally have him fully inside, seating yourself on his lap. Being with Kenma never hurts, not when he fits so perfectly inside you, tip just barely brushing against your most sensitive spot when you grind against his hips. 
He spits your name and it feels like a swear, spurring you on as you rock against him, lifting and dropping back onto his thighs, feeling him pulse inside you. Your head throbs, body slick with a sheen of feverish sweat while you fuck yourself on his cock, hypnotizing yourself to the tune of the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin. You can tell when he starts getting close to release by the way his moans get more pitched and strained with a whine, and how his hips thrust up to meet yours in a stuttered pace.
It’s addictive, feeling him cum inside you. When Kenma cums, he spills buckets, filling you up enough to leak out- especially when you’re already milking his next load out of him. “Hey, ah-!” Kenma cries out, suddenly sitting up and holding your thighs to keep you in place. You meet his eyes, confusion plaguing your expression.
“Why did you stop?”
“I need a break,” he explains, raising his eyebrows. You huff out a sigh, trying to content yourself with just keeping him inside. Kenma exhales, laying back against the couch to catch his breath, worn out already. 
An idea crosses your mind, and before you can think it over, you’re moving, reaching onto the coffee table and shuffling items around. Before Kenma can sit up again to ask what you’re doing, you press the chocolate to his lips, smiling sweetly from behind. He watches you, palms growing sweaty as the sweet substance begins to melt. “Open up,” you coo, grin splitting wider when his lips part for you.
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kinktober 2022 masterlist here
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Text
thinking of hanma rough love, soft sex 🤔
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Note
having horrible horny thoughts about telling best friend hanma no guy has ever made you cum so he takes it upon himself to be the first because he deserves it and wants to be your first something :,( eats you out like a starved man and his strokes are immaculate someone help 💔💔
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— 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 !! : hanma shuji.
cw: f!reader. college au(?). you're inexperienced, shuji is secretly in love with you. pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, he makes you call him daddy. if this makes no sense its bec i wrote w my clit.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ . 。˚ ♡ "i dare you to tell me somethin' that'll make me laugh."
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“no guy’s ever made me cum.” you’d told hanma. a not so innocent answer to a rather innocent dare, you admit. but he’s your best friend, nothing less (and nothing more). it’s fine.
and there was an awkward, momentary silence for a few seconds. he’d fallen still, holding the cigarette he’d been about to take a drag from in mid air, amber eyes flickering with an emotion unreadable to you.
“say what, dollface?” he asks — using that petname with you again, that your exes always hated — and the disbelieving tone in his voice embarrasses you, brings a flush to your cheeks and ties a knot of humiliation in your guts.
you squirm on the back of his motorcycle, as he turns his head to look at you, leaning against the fence right by you, where he’d parked the vehicle. 
“i—” you stutter, flustered. “no guy’s ever made me cum before.” just something funny that’d slipped out your mouth, during a lazy game of truth or dare you’d played during his smoke break after class.
“that’s fucking funny, doll.” he does laugh, but it’s awkward. “you serious?”
“yes.” you’d answered. truthfully.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ and now, you’re splayed out between hanma’s legs, on his bed in his room, his long and lithe fingers bullying their way into your cunt for the third time. “h—ah! wait!”
he’s leaning against the headboard, one arm hooked around your waist, hand firmly on your thigh and holding your legs spread apart, fingers in your pussy as he chuckles lowly at your whines.
you’d question it — question what the fuck was happening, if he just wasn’t so fucking hot and making you feel so fucking good.
“that’s it,” he smirks, as you drop your head against his chest, grabbing onto his wrist, desperately trying to close your legs as he effortlessly draws another orgasm out of you. “that’s it ... ya look fuckin’ cute when you’re cumming.”
he laughs when you try to look up at him and scowl, eyes fluttering and rolling back into your head when he uses the hand that’s not busy fucking your pussy to land a slap on your clit. 
you moan again, and he laughs. “see? atta girl, so pretty when you cum. tellin’ me nobody’s ever seen you like this?” 
you dont answer, too busy trying to blink back the wave of dizziness that’s washing over you with the bliss hanma’s giving you, on his fingers alone.
the inked kanji on the back of his hand flashes darkly, sin bobbing up and down between your legs, shiny with your slick, as hanma curls his fingers into your tight, clenching walls and rasps into the shell of your ear, “asked you a question, dollface.”
“nobody,” you gasp, for some reason so nervous yet so turned on, by the demanding, challenging edge to his tone. “nobody, hanma— ah!”
“tch, it’s shuji, sweetheart.” he pinches your clit, laughs when your knees jerk up at the sensation. 
his voice goes a little softer as he continues, thinking you wouldn’t notice the hint of jealousy and longing in his voice with the state you’re in. “gonna keep me just your friend, just your ol’ buddy hanma-kun even after i take you on my bed, fuck you on my fingers ’n make you cum over ’n over again?”
“a—mngh, ’m sorry, shuji,” you whine, too enamoured by how he feels to argue, and his heart jumps at how sweet his name sounds off your tongue. “f—fuck, feels so good!”
“would feel better if i were usin’ my tongue. or if you were on my cock.” he laughs when your expression visibly scrunches up in embarrassment, cooing at you and telling you how cute you are as he grips your waist and turns you around to straddle him, legs shaky with the effect of your previous orgasms. “want me to do it, yeah?”
“mmm,” you answer though you’re not sure what he means, holding onto his shoulders for support. he holds you steady, and slides himself down onto his back onto the mattress, pushing your legs further apart around him and cupping your ass, pulling you forward — and you realize what he’s about to do. “shuji, no, i’ve n—”
you cut yourself off, but hanma picks your sentence up anyway.
“never been eaten out before?” he asks, sounding both unconvinced and pissed off at the same time, and you sit there as he stares up at you, so fucking embarrassed—
“my doll’s been gettin’ treated like shit, huh?” he breathes, gold eyes tracing your figure down. “sweet lil’ thing, i’ll show you how y’should be treated, a’right?”
“mm,” you let out a sound, so shy when his voice goes all sympathetic. it makes your pussy go slick with want, your heart beating faster with anticipation. “mkay.”
hanma doesn’t hold back. he tightens his arms around your hips and waist in an instant, pulling your cunt down on his mouth, nose pressed just over your clit as he inhales deep into you, letting out a needy growl as he opens his mouth and takes you.
your hands scramble to find a hold on the headboard as he rocks you forward, trapping you on your knees with your thighs plush and warm around his face, drinking in your cunt — devouring you like a man starved. “fuck,” he slurs into your heat, muffled and hot. “shit, baby, s’ fuckin—good.”
his tongue grazes your clit, curls around it and sucks, and you cry out, squirming in his arms, one hand leaving the headboard to get down and curl your fingers into his hair and tug, stuttering his name out in a pleading chant. “shuji, shuji, shuji — fuck!”
the moan he lets out when you pull at his black and blonde locks thrums against your cunt, and when he sucks at your clit again, slurping loudly and grunting praise into you, it’s enough to make you cum again. “ah, shuji, cumming, cumming!”
“i know,” he hisses, and when you look down at him, the rise of his cheekbones, his nose and his mouth are soaked with your wetness— and his eyes are blown wide, the gold of them almost lost in the darkness of his want. “i know, baby. i know.”
“please,” you hiccup, tears blurring your vision, hips trembling as you try not to collapse over hanma’s face.
your cunt aches, empty despite the way he shoves his tongue up your fluttering hole, and you dont want another orgasm without it. “fuck! shuji — shuji please, need your cock.”
“mm — what’d you say, dollface?” he grunts, licking at your clit, yanking you back in when you try to lift yourself off him. “cant just get all you want like that. say it right f’me.”
“w-what?” you sob, unsure what he means but so needy to obey, because you just need him to stuff you full and fill you up already.
you dont know if it’s wrong or not, to want your best friend’s dick inside you so badly, but you’ve gone this far, havent you? he’s giving you what you want.
“you g’na do as i say?” he smirks, watching how you nod and keen when he tongues at your abused clit again. “then say ‘i love you, daddy, i only want you ‘n your cock from now on’.”
huh? — it takes a second or two, but the words put clarity in your head, somewhat, when you hear them. 
swallowing back the shaky whine of acceptance bubbling at your throat, you manage to ask instead, “you want me to tell you i love you?”
there’s a small pause, before hanma’s grip on your hips tightens again. 
but this time, he pulls you off.
it urges you back to your position straddling his hips, as he sits back up, leaning on the headboard once more — and though his hard-on brushing hot and heavy through his jeans against your messy cunt is distracting, you pay attention to his expression instead.
hanma stares at you, face wet with your slick and hair messy with your hand tangling through the dyed locks. “so you ... dont?”
it’s a sudden flipside to the multiple orgasms he’d just sent you through, and it disorients you just a little. 
but the look in his amber eyes, black and blonde hair stuck to his forehead and framing his face, the warmth in your heart as you contemplate an answer — and the desperate ache in your empty cunt, it all convinces you to say you do.
“i do.”
there’s yet another damned pause, as you sit on hanma’s lap, naked and with his dick hard under your ass, your palms flat against his bare chest — if someone’d told you before that a dumb game of truth or dare after class would lead you to this situation, you’d laugh.
but — but this is shuji. he’s rough on the exterior, a major tease, a man notorious and famous on the streets; but really? he’s sweet.
he buys you coffee, takes you out shopping, takes you to the salon, pays for your takeout. he always tells you he'll fuck your exes up if they hurt you or make you cry (and they have done so, but you've never allowed him to beat them).
he goes with you to the library, even though he doesn't even care for spending hours on assignments or work. to be fair, he does leave you in there and go out to smoke after only a few minutes, but he always comes back to drop you home.
he's so nice to you, despite himself. and turns out, if you'd just ask, he'd fuck you too.
he’s your best friend. nothing less, nothing more, but you decide it now, trembling from the euphoria he’s giving you. you want more.
it’s possessive and spells desire, how he’d pulled you in here to make up for your ‘stupid shit exes’, telling you he would make you feel good if nobody else has done it before.
it’s all so sudden, but it makes sense. he’s been just your best friend this whole time, but you want more.
“i do love you, shuji.”
hanma lets out a breath, when you repeat it. “really, now?” he mutters. “not just sayin’ that so i’ll give you my cock? dont play with my heart now, doll.” he chuckles, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes.
“i do.” you mumble, shy again under the intensity of his piercing stare. “and i guess ... that’s why it never worked with anyone else. when you were there this whole time.”
“hah,” hanma laughs, steadying his hold on your waist before bringing one hand up to pat your cheek. ”y’ telling me no other asshole could make you cum, ‘cause you were busy wishin’ it was me?”
“no!” you blurt out, but when he grins wider, slides his hand down from your cheek to pinch the soft flesh of your tits, the electric shiver that courses down your spine says otherwise. it would be a lie, to say that you’ve never wanted him. “yeah, m-maybe.”
“fuck,” he hisses at that, eyes going even darker, like the dubious confirmation you’d given him was all he needed, like it was a love shot and a stroke of lust in one — and he yanks the buttons and zipper of his jeans open, tugging the fabric apart and pulling out his straining cock.
it’s big — unsurprising, but still a sight to take in, and you whimper tearfully when he grabs the length in his hand and taps his head to your clit, letting out a breathy chuckle. “biggest cock y’ ever seen, mhm?”
and you’d want to keep from boosting his ego, but the way you stare is answer enough. “n-need you in me, shuji.” you beg, and he just laughs again, rubbing the pearl of precum that swells at his tip across your slit, teasing. “say what i told you to say, then. if y’love me.”
call him daddy? “do i really have to?” you whine, pushing forward and grinding up on his cockhead. it ellicits a rough moan from him, that makes your clit throb when you hear it — but hanma remains adamant.
“you hafta, dollface.” he smiles, showing you teeth. “you’ll do it, if y’ really want me so bad.”
and god, the layers of pleasure he’d drowned you in are too sharp, too overwhelming for you to refuse and stop this right now — you want, need his cock. right now.
fine. “i—i love you, daddy.” you mumble, eyes skirting down because you cant bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “and i-i want only you. only your cock, and only you. i love you.”
and it’s like hanma has been waiting for this moment his whole life.
“shit, baby,” he huffs, pulling your tits flush against his body as he grabs you by the waist and by the back of your neck, dragging you in and meeting your lips with his in a starved kiss — fuck, he hadn’t kissed you until now? 
you realize it, with both a pang and a fluttering in your heart, but the thought is soon knocked out of your head, as he kisses you again, tasting the lingering essence of yourself on his tongue, tasting him, catching the scent of cigarettes and men’s cologne on his mouth and neck as you lean into him, letting him savour you whole. 
“god, i love you.” he groans, as he lines his cock up at your entrance, sliding sin and punishment over to your ass again and sheathing you down on him. “loved you f’so long now, baby. d’you know how i’ve felt? ‘n now y’re fuckin’ telling me all those assholes you dated never made you cum. fuck.”
“mm, sh-shuji!” you cry, and he moans in your ear in reply. “s-slower! please, please—”
“‘m too big for you?” he rasps, voice hoarse with pleasure. god, he’s wanted this forever. your tight, velvet walls clenching around him, wet and hot and your body on him, so pretty and all his.
“cant slow down, sweetheart.” he hisses. “consider this your punishment. for playin’ with my heart like that, for so long.” you’ve got your arms wrapped around hanma’s neck, trying to control the pace at which you sink down on his cock, but he rolls his hips up and pushes all the way into you anyway.
“a—haah! shuji!” your moan is saccharine in his ear, and he swallows back a curse, knowing that it’s not going to be long before he’s cumming, filling you all up.
“say sorry, baby.” he growls, pulling out before shoving back in you again, putting stars into your eyes with the sharp slap of skin against skin, the harsh kiss of his tip against your cervix. “really didn’t think i loved you, even when i was fuckin’ knuckle deep in you? callin’ you my dollface and telling you y’re pretty ‘n driving you around, and sucking on that sweet lil clit?”
you cry out, when he bites at the side of your neck, feeling even more embarrassed, feeling stupid — because god, you were stupid to miss the signs. to think he was just like that. when he only ever was that way with you. “‘m sorry, sorry. please, i’m sorry.”
“hmm,” he lulls, kissing the marks of his teeth that he’d left on you. “cant be mean with you, can i? too fuckin’ sweet for your own good.”
your mouth is on his cheek, lips sliding down his jaw in desperate kisses, needing him more even when he’s right here, when your body’s pressed to his and his lips are on you and his cock is all the way in your cunt. “mmngh,” you try, too dizzy to answer properly.
“now let’s teach ya how it feels to cum on a big, fat cock, yeah, dollface?” he says, starting up a hasty rhythm with his cock, up and down into you as you struggle to stay sitting up on his lap. “poor lil’ doll’s never even done this before?”
“never.” you keen, lost in the way his cock is so long, so thick, reaching all the sweet spots deep in your cunt in one fucking go. “n-never came on a cock before.”
“yeah, i know.” he says, all sympathetic again, and it sends heat rushing to both your face and your core. “g’na beg daddy to let you cum all over his cock?”
“mhm,” you moan, and he smiles, brings you in for another kiss as he speeds up. “then say it, baby. say what y’need to say to have your way.”
“mm, daddy, daddy—” you sob, trying to kiss him back as he hums into your mouth, forgetting your embarrassment at having to call him that, because fuck, it was starting to feel fitting. “please let me cum on your cock, please, please—”
“only if you’ll let me fill this pretty pussy all up.” he stutters, voice turning all raspy as he goes even faster, bouncing you up and down so hard as he nears his high. 
he loves the way you beg. loves the way you call him by that name. so cute, and almost pathetic, for him. it’s a fresh change. one he wants to hold on to. “yeah? you’ll let me do that, baby? let daddy fill your cunt up with his cum?”
“yes,” you gasp, vision going cloudy with both tears and pleasure as you feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter all over again. “fuck, anything! anything, daddy, just please.”
“please what?” his laugh is now hoarse, as he looks at your blissed out face from under his lashes, eyes lidded and heavy with lust and pleasure.
the bedsheets under you are soaked, but neither of you can care — you moan again, sucking in a breath and falling into hanma’s chest, tired but so, so desperate to cum again. “please, shuji. please. need to cum on your cock. need you to cum in me.”
and he does. 
hanma watches, vision hazy as his cock slides out of your cunt milky and drooling, and pushes back in — pushes in so deep he hits your cervix again and he cums, leaking hot, white ropes of seed into your tight, wet cunt — and it makes you cum, too.
“fuck, tryna milk me all up, huh?” he heaves as he maintains his pace, gritting his teeth and grabbing your hips when you try to meet the rhythm, pussy fluttering and sucking him in like you’ve needed him as much as he’s needed you. “pretty, pretty lil’ pussy — all mine, yeah?”
“all yours, shuji.” you sob, and he stares as your head tilts up, eyes rolling back in your head as they fall shut, drowning in the pure heaven of cumming while stuffed full of his big, big cock. “a-hnngh, all yours.”
“yeah, that’s right.” he growls, wrapping punishment around your throat, hauling you back in to kiss you, sloppy and open mouthed, as sin slips down between your bodies — pressing into your pulsing clit with his thumb as he continues fucking up into you, pace relaxing slowly. “that’s right. y’re all mine now. forever.”
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an: hilarious how this was supposed to be only a short drabble but now it's a whole ass fic under venus's god tier ask <3
12K notes · View notes
taekozuyang · 2 years
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the line between us
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⭒ suna rintarou x reader | osamu miya x reader
⭒ tags: friends with benefits | love triangle | mentions of subtle cheating (not really, you'll know why) | suna drinks and smokes | suna has a tattoo ;) | reader and samu drinks | romance | pining | slow burn | angst | hurt/comfort | college au! | we love a cliché
⭒ warning: this fic is rated SUGGESTIVE, implied fucking, mentions of "bulge" and "entrance", there is a part where suna and y/n is naked | last part is barely edited read at your own risk!!
⭒ wc: 5k~
ㅡsuna has always been certain of what he wants until he commits a mistake that turn the tides around.
based on this drabble. you may want to read it for context as this scene will be the core of this plot.
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as though you feel the dragging weight of the earth on shoulders and the sky hovering inches above you, you find difficult to keep your head up keeping the side of your face stuck to the smooth wooden table of the lecture hall. as of the moment, the surface of the table is softest thing you know next to the comfort of your bed.
you should have stayed home, skipped class, and let yourself wallow in your baffling emotions but college doesn't give you second chances and you can't risk a semester now that you're in your final year. hence, here you are attending your morning class looking like half-alive half-dead creature straight from a zombie movie.
and it seems as though you're not the only one who is aware of your poor state.
"good-" a voice all too familiar booms in your eardrums. the last thing you want right now is a high energy companion that will only suck the miniscule energy you have left to suffice the day. as if your wish is heard, the boy approaching you lowers his tone, eyes searching yours as he crunches down. "what happened to you?"
"morning." you mumble, not bothering to check who it is as you keep your eyes shut.
"hungover? didn't know the pumpkin patch event this year includes pumpkin beer and pumpkin vodka." the boy chuckles, throwing his bag over the table, therefore, sending vibrations to your pounding head. you wince at the sudden pain.
"i badly wish it was pumpkin beer or vodka." you say followed by a long drag of sigh.
"if it's not a hungover then, what is it?" the boy settles to sit next to you.
"couldn't sleep last night."
"huh? you barely have a decent sleeping schedule so what's new?" his remark forces your lids to fly open.
"fuck you, samu. i'm serious." you playfully punch his arm rendering a heartful laugh from the other.
"i didn't sleep at all." you say, emphasizing the last two words.
"did suna kept you up all night?" as the words leave his mouth, his gaze shifts to somewhere but you. his teeth softly clawing the insides of his cheeks.
"not in that sense."
"what in that sense? describe to me in full details, please." he plays dumb just to tease you although he knows exactly the relationship you share with suna. often times you'll complain about your lack of sleep but sometimes you don't. in the latter times, you are accompanied by the man of the topic, staying up late in your apartment, and doing whatever a typical couple does on a honeymoon phase. except he's not your boyfriend.
you take this chance to avenge yourself by kicking osamu under the the table.
"ow! you're violent." he dramatically rubs the spot near his shin.
"you're awful."
"but i'm the only one you got." it takes an immense amount of self-control not to tear the smirk on face as he prides himself to you.
"you're wrong." you narrow your eyes at him before turning your head away from his direction. the side of your head is resting on the wooden table.
osamu places a hand over your shoulder, so gently that it feels like a sin to touch you.
"on a serious note, i'm all ears." his tone changes.
the one thing you're grateful to have during the your three years in college is Osamu. even though you refuse to admit it to him, he has been a great source of strength and motivation over the years. frankly, you aren't sure if you'll survive college, school load, and personal issues without his support. that's why it's almost natural to open up to him. it's easy to show him your raw side because you're certain that behind the bickers you share with him is his sincere intentions.
"he ditched me." you say before turning your head to face him again, cheeks squished on the table. "well, not really. i asked him days before the pumpkin patch event if he's free on that day but he told he's busy so he can't come."
"you already bought two tickets to the event prior asking him, right?" osamu slides his arm across the table followed by his hand cupping the side of his face as he listens to you.
"yes, i know it's a dumb idea to buy tickets before asking him. i'm stupid."
"don't say that, that's my line." a grin tugs the corners of lips causing you to shoot him a glare. he laughs before urging you to continue. "and then?"
"so, i surprised my little brother to the pumpkin patch and he was thrilled. that was the only good thing that happened on that day." you slip your phone towards him after unlocking it.
osamu sees a picture of you and your little brother holding a huge pumpkin. your brother's contagious gummy smile pulls osamu's lips to a grin, almost as wide as the young boy. he switches his eyes to look at you in the photo. before he could get distracted by it, he hums to let you know that he's listening. a cue for you to continue.
"then, i saw rin. he was with another girl and don't get me wrong it's no big deal. you know our rules and the relationship we have."
"yep." osamu nods, eyes still stuck to the photo. unconsciously smiling to himself.
"our eyes met. he saw me and i swear i'm sure of it and he, uh..." you trail on your words, trying so hard not to seem affected by it. even with the rules and your open relationship with him, a mix of confusion and hurt lingers in your chest.
your sudden pause draws osamu's attention. he turns his eyes to look at you as he cocks a brow. "and?"
"...and he kissed her while he kept his eyes on me as if he was trying to tell me something, something i couldn't understand or refuse to understand. he didn't have to do that. i know he may have other girls other than me, though rumors say otherwise, but what he did sort of... hurt me." you raise your head as you swallow hard. albeit, you keep your eyes lowered to the table.
in more than a year of being with him he had undoubtedly made you feel special. more so, when you learned that suna is not the type to stick to one person for months, but he was able to do it with you for exactly a year and four months. somehow, you were fed to believe that you're different.
in the said event, he was an entirely different person, like you were able to take a glimpse of the suna you first metㅡhis cold gaze and remarkable sneer; as if the person you knew from the months ago vanished into thin air.
it was a reminder of you who are to him and who you will always be. stricken by reality, you realize,
you're just one of his girls.
"so, what's your plan?" osamu studies your face.
"i had given it a thought." you begin. "i'm letting him go."
"passively? by mopping around and looking like that?" osamu lifts his free hand to gesture at your current state.
"got a better idea, boy?" you copy his posture, resting the side of your head on your palm as you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes.
"play his cards."
"come on, samu." you roll your eyes, thinking that he was merely joking but he proves you wring as he pushes the idea.
"no, listen. i remember him asking you out as his date on the upcoming event held by the students of the arts department. i think you should attend the party."
"samu, rin and i have not spoken a single word, not even in text, since the pumpkin patch event. so, how am i supposed to attend the party without him? he's an art student. of course, he'll be there but i don't think he will invite me again considering the awkward tension between us right now. besides, no one can get into the party unless you're part of the host department, a plus one of an invited guest, or is personally invited by the hosts themselves. unless you're super famous in the campus then you'll easily get a pass."
osamu clears his throat, grinning wider at you as he flashes you a knowing look. he wiggles his brows when shoot him a confused expression.
"i don't get it." your frown deepens.
"'unless you're super famous'" he draws quatotation marks in the air before turning to rest his head back on his hand. "darling, you're looking at a Miya."
his term of endearment warms your insides but the cocky smile on his mouth irks you. you fight a smile as you watch the irritating smug on his face grow. he's right about being well-known in the univesity but agreeing with him will only flatter him more.
this is the other side of his personality that everyone fail to see. he is not the humble, introverted, and well-mannered twin. in truth, he is exactly like Atsumu. the only difference between them is in the execution. Atsumu verbalizes to everyone how amazing he is while Osamu only boasts himself to people he knows.
afterall, they're twins.
hence, you provoke him.
"you're right! Atsumu is famous! maybe i should ask him to get a pass for me." you jest, picking the right words to annoy him. he dislikes being compared to his twin, more than that, he hates being perceived as inferior to Atsumu.
awhen silence fall between the two of you, him looking at you with resentful eyes as his mouth is pressed to a thin line, a guffaw echoes in the large room. you clutch onto your belly as an attempt to stop yourself from laughing. the look on his face is enough to fuel another series of laughter. it's pure comedy to watch his face turn emotionless, beyond disappointed, and utterly disgusted with you.
"i'm sorry, i won't bring up tsum into the conversation again." a prick of tear forms at the corner of your eyes and you wipe it off once your laugh wears off. you ask,
"so, am i your date?" as the question slips off your mouth, osamu smiles.
--
it is the night of the party and exactly a week after the pumpkin patch event. you are torn between two outfits: a casual look, a pair of skorts and a simple cropped top, or a dress that meant so much to you.
on your birthday last year, suna pulled off the unexpected.
you were both recovering from the height of your orgasms, lying on your back and him on top of you with his arms braced at side of your head to prevent himself from crushing you with his weight. his head tuck on your shoulder as he breathes heavily. the warm air from his mouth soothes your sensitive nerves.
suddenly, he whips his head up to glance at the digital clock next to your bed. cursing to himself, he hurriedly pushes himself up to get on his feet. he strides to the living room without a word.
"are you leaving?" you ask though he always stays after sex, a habit formed since five months into this arrangement.
he didn't say a word only the sound of his bare feet meeting the carpeted floor resonates in your small apartment. soon, he comes back with paperbags hung over his curled fingers. he props next to you in bed before placing the item on the space the between the two of you.
"for you." he simply says.
"what's the occassion?" you let out an airy laugh. you have known him for quite a while but you already have the impression that physical touch is the only love language he can offer. it can't even be considered love if it's driven by lust.
"i was supposed to give you this exactly at 12 in the morning but we took time, not that i'm complaining." he shrugs, shifting his eyes to look at you. "happy birthday."
"seriously? i'm-" you're in awe and touched by his simple gesture. your cheeks hurt from smiling as you touch the edges of the paperbag.
"don't be too excited about it. it's a dumb gift." suna watches you closely, struggling to keep a straight face as your smile reaches him.
he felt awkward going from store to store just to find a gift for you. he has never given a present to anyone he's friends with benefits with as he sees no point in investing time and effort to them. but the idea of you smiling because of him, kept him up at night. there's something with the way your eyes glimmer in excitement and your smile pushing your cheeks up to form crescent moons with eyes that made him do something that's out of his character.
although, the sales ladies who kept following him around the store, asking him if he's buying for his girlfriend, and recommending him products that he isn't interested in almost blew up his plan (because he was so annoyed by them), he still pushed through with it. and when he arrives back to his place, staring at the paperbag placed on the center table of his living room, he mumbles to himself.
"this is fucking stupid. why am i even doing this?"
"it's not just the item inside the bag, you know. it's the intention you put into this. thank you, rin." you look at him through your lashes.
"just open it." he waves a hand, quite embarrassed.
you open the first bag and see three bottles of a notable skin care brand. you take each one out and as you read and read the words on the label, your eyes widen.
"how did you know i use these?!"
"i remembered." he responds but you tilt your head clueless of what he is talking about. he explains. "the night we had a drink outside and you were so drunk you couldn't walk. i took you to your apartment and you demanded me to wash your face, telling me that it's a must to do your skincare. god, you can't even touch your face without poking your eye so i did it for you."
"when was this again?" you ask.
"about two months ago."
as he narrates the events, your memory slowly rekindles. you remember kneeling between his thighs as he sits on the bath tub. he squeezes a generous amount of cream from the bottle to the pad of his forefinger as his other hand steadies your face.
"don't move." he orders you. hence, you obediently follow him him, refusing to move a single muscle as he dabs the cold cream on your face. he carefully spreads it using his fingers to prevent it from slipping in your eyes.
"you look" hiccups, "gorgeous." hiccups. once he's done with the cream, you turn around to fetch a headband next to the sink. "but this... you look mooooooore gorgeous." your words came out in a slur. catching him off guard, you push the headband over his head. it falls on around his neck before you pull it up to the top of his forehead.
his signature bangs is up on his crown and his forehead is completely exposed to you. you have never seen the expanse of his forehead free from hair strands before until now.
"pretty." you coo, holding his face between your hands. suna ignores you as he reaches for the bottle on the counter.
"this next?" he asks, mouth slightly pouted with the way you're squeezing his face. you nod.
he applies the formula on your face just like what he did with the cream. when he finally uncaps the last bottle and sprays the contents to your face, he looks at you with a pleased smile.
"done." your eyes lock, automatically stretching his lips into a smile. "you look good." he says before placing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.
"oh, yeah. i remember now. i was wasted." horror fills your face.
suna gestures you to open the other paperbag. your hand reaches inside and pulls out a piece of clothing and came with it is a small black packet that falls directly in front of you. you set aside the larger item first, opening the packet and fishing the object inside. you bite your lower lip as you look at his gift.
"this is a drag." you fight a smile as you lift the item at an eye-level. a sleeping mask hangs in the air.
"i'm helping you to fix your sleeping problems. you should thank me." suna playfully winks at you, making you giggle. "about the other one...i thought it would suit you."
you turn your attention to the cloth crumpled to the side. you take the item before raising it above your head. turning it around, you search for the straps so you can see the dress in full length. it's hued in deep royal purple and textured in velvet which makes the clothing look sophisticated and elegant. the straps are thin, extending to the back to emphasize a backless design. you look at the tag and is surprised that suna knows your size.
"can i wear it?" you ask and he gives you a nod.
you get on your knees naked as you throw the material over your head. suna watches you get dressed, eyes hovering over the curves of your breasts, the skin around your waist, then to your parted thighs. once the dress falls effortlessly on your body, suna looks up to meet with your orbs.
"well?" he raises a brow.
"holy shit, this is perfect." you twist and turn to feel yourself in the dress. the backless is just right, the hem falls exactly at the crest between your back and your butt. the straps doesn't feel too thin that you'll have to worry about them snapping off. the material gives space for air and is hugging your figure enough to emphasize your curves.
your eyes lock and you see a subtle flare in his cheeks. it's your turn to shoot him a smirk as you notice a bulge forming underneath the thin blanket. you pull your dress up just enough for you to approach him without tripping on your dress. your thighs spread as you settle to sit on his lap. arms caging around his neck, you pull him close.
"thank you." you place a delicate kiss on his lips at the same time lowering your body to meet with his. a prominent bulge presses against the thin blanket separating you from him and by instinct, suna lifts his hips up to feel your entrance. you teasingly whisper, "but we just finished, rin."
you're a masochist, or a sadist. perhaps, both.
wearing the dress to the party hurts your feelings in some way but you are also enticed by the idea of suna seeing you with another man in a dress he bought. surely, you're petty. maybe it's your pride that got the best of you thinking that you shouldn't be the only one feeling this way. bitter and hurt.
loud knocks from the door of your apartment lets you know that Osamu has arrived. as planned, you'll go to the party with him as his date and because he is a gentleman, as he claims to be, he insisted on picking you up.
"coming." you call out, swinging your bag over your shoulder as you make your way to the door. unlocking it, you see Osamu wearing a neat polo with sleeves messily folded to his elbow. the first three buttons are unhooked making his broad chest slightly exposed. the hem of his polo is roughly tucked under his jeans with a leather belt emphasizing his snatched waist.
"wow, you look stunning." for a split second, you were terrified that you heard your inner thoughts, thinking that it slipped on your tongue with you knowing, but you are even more surprised when you see Osamu staring at your body. when he notices you looking at him, he shifts to meet your gaze.
"i would have never guessed that you barely complete eight hours of sleep every night with the way you look right now." if it weren't for his teasing, you are already beat red with the way he peers at your body.
the ride to the party is quiet with only the sound from his stereo playing filling the enclosed space. Osamu's fingers drum to the beat of the song as he keeps his eyes forward. he runs his free hand through his hair and in that a thought intrudes your mind.
he looks heavenly under the moonlight and against the blinding lights of the cars on the road. no wonder he has people lining up for him.
you never paid attention to Osamu's influence nor his charms as you have always looked at him through a platonic lense. even when you knew the twins first before you met suna, you were drawn to the latter the moment you laid eyes on him. suna was like a mermaid and you're a fisherman, utterly lured by his captivating presence, and everyone else beneathe the waves.
"you good?" Osamu briefly glances to you. "are you cold? do i need to turn up the AC?"
"no, i'm fine. thanks." you look away and sink in your seat. you feel shame for staring at him when he's unguarded.
"nervous?"
"kinda." you mumble.
"like seeing an ex boyfriend after a break-up?" Osamu chuckles, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as he turns a corner.
"dunno, never had a boyfriend."
there was a pause for a second before he speaks.
"you never told me."
"i didn't?!" you turn to the side to face him, your voice increasing.
"hm." Osamu nods. "i assumed that you had your first boyfriend broke your heart that you swore to never love again."
"i used to deny love…until recently. i became more open to it.” Osamu didn’t want to pry on what has caused you to change your mind as he already has an idea of who might be behind it. he simply didn’t want to hear more about the particular someone.
"but why do you refuse to enter a relationship?" he glances to you quickly, brows pressed together as he redirects the topic.
"people change when they enter a relationship. you know, the thrill of the chase."
"that could be true to some extent, but how can you be so sure that the person you love will change once you enter a relationship with them?"
"i'm never sure of it." you look away from Osamu though his eyes are stuck to road ahead. "i'm scared to find out."
Osamu thinks of the right words to say, stretching silence before breaking it.
“some people love their partners even more after casual dates. they let them know that they are theirs. that is a feeling people crave for; that’s why even with a risk of breaking one’s heart, they still try.”
“never met such a person.” you shake your head, popping your mouth as you do so.
Osamu pulls up next to a building, the loud noise reverberates from the outside that you could feel the vibrations from the bass of the speakers on the car window. your friend behind the wheel finally turns to look at you and instantly your eyes met.
"it’s because you’re not paying attention." he lingers his gaze to you longer than it should and you immediately feel you heart beat faster. warmth crawls to your cheeks as he genuinely smiles at you. leaving you stunned, a question unconsciously slips from your mouth.
“have you ever fallen in love, Samu?”
Osamu looks at you with fondness, smiling so widely that his face is covered with anything but hostility. his orbs rally from one eye to the other before he lets out an airy laugh.
“the girl behind the reception table is waiting for us.” he uses his chin to gesture to the girl with vibrant hair color sitting by the entrance of the building. he pulls the key of his car from the ignition and says, "let's go."
you follow Osamu to the front of his car to stand next to him. the heavy feeling from the conversation about love and relationship was left in his car and all you are left with is the cloud over your head. your hand finds its way on Osamu’s arms, releasing tension by holding onto him. the boy steps forward only to be stopped by your rigid legs.
“wait, i never asked you.” Osamu twists his neck to look at you. you curl a brow in question. “does this mean we’re gatecrashing a party?”
“yes. now, let’s go.” he pulls you with him but you halt his steps once again.
“no, no, wait.” you suck air through your teeth as you flash him a pair of doe eyes.
“not backing out now, are you?”
“no, it’s just, uh…” you stumble on your words. “what if that girl doesn’t recognize you.” you point at the art student at the mini reception area. although her amiable personality is reflected by her flashy fashion, you have a feeling that she has got it in her to kick out unwanted guests.
Osamu follows your point finger before letting out a long sigh.
“i am friends with the host of this event. i have already told him about coming to this party so if that girl doesn’t recognize me then we have plan B. so, no, I was messing with you. technically, we are not gatecrashing. are there anymore lame excuse to run away?” you shake your head ‘no’ in defeat.
“good.” Osamu places his hand over yours in a comforting manner. “do you mind if you walk with me?”
you walk side by side with Osamu and instantly when the girl with neon hair sees Osamu tugging you along, her face splits into a smile.
“miya!” the girl greets, eyes never leaving your date. her purple lips curves as she says in rather cheerful tone. “Osamu, right?”
“yep, that’s me.”
“thank god! it would have been embarrassing if i got the wrong twin!” the girl laughs and by courtesy Osamu joins her, although his chuckles are not as genuine as the hers. “i see, you got a date. i think i know you. let me think about it.”
“(y/n).” you say, spoiling the fun of her guessing your name because frankly you think she’s doesn’t really know you.
“(y/n).” she repeats your name quietly as she ponders to herself. then, she exclaims. “oh! you’re on the guest list. give me a second.”
As she fetches a clipboard under the desk, you shoot Osamu a look that says “I am on the guestlist?! You did that?” but he shakes his head.
“alright! your name is (y/n)… (l/n).” she confirms and you nod. “it says here that a few days ago suna rintarou filed you as his guest. he’s already inside probably having a drink.”
you felt the blood from you face drain and your heart stopping at the moment the girl says his name. you did not expect that he has such a huge impact on you that mentioning him is enough to rattle your being. your legs become mechanical as Osamu drags you inside. he thanks the girl on the entrance door before turning his attention to you.
“you ‘kay?” Osamu asks you with concern. the only response you can offer him is to meet with his eyes. “here, loosen up.” he pulls you to a small bar and lifts two fingers in the air. soon, the barista slides two drinks of the same kind towards you. “have a toast with me.”
you take the glass on the counter before bringing up to clink with Osamu. The latter announces, “to petty fools and their breakable hearts!” his cheer earns a snort followed by a laugh from you. he really has the talent to make things better for you.
a bottoms-up turn to a few drinks. it could the alcohol that’s deceiving your senses but the music has become louder. more people are coming, cramming up every spot as they drunkenly dance. you call for Osamu’s attention but your voice is easily drowned by the pop music blasting in the room. you call for him again but he fails to hear you as he bops his head to the popular song. hence, you are left to pull him by the first hooked button on his polo.
His eyes fly to the grip on his top before looking at you with his intoxicated eyes. even with a few drinks loosening him up, his warmhearted smile pops on his face once he sees you. you bring your mouth his ears, lips slightly grazing the shell of his ears as you speak.
“can we sit somewhere with less people?” the air in Osamu’s throat hitches as he feels your breath in against his ear. the warm air fanning against his exposed skin sends shudders down his spine. he could not think of anything but the close distance between you and him and the tight grip of your hand on his button up shirt. once he manages to snap himself back to reality, he turns his head towards you as he responds in your ear.
“sure, follow me.” he takes you by your wrist. you almost trip over your clumsy feet if it weren’t for Osamu’s back being your saving grace.
your friend leads to a corner with a u-shaped seat around a small center table attached to the floor. surprisingly, no one has occupied this area. maybe everyone else is enjoying themselves on the dancefloor, but you would rather sit and watch them instead. The music from where you and Osamu is less suffocating than when you were by the bar. Osamu gestures you to enter the booth first, then he follows suit, sitting right next to you.
“Is this good?” Osamu politely asks although you’re both settled in.
“Yes, thanks.” you look around and think that this location is the best spot to observe the room. sitting here gives you a clear angle of each corners.
then, just as you were about to forget the purpose of tonight’s agenda, you catch a glimpse of a tattoo you’ve traced your finger over before. a black inked figure on the crest on the back of his neck drawn by the man himself.
he’s standing from across the room, drinking with some his friends you’ve met before. he laughs at a joke said by someone from his circle before he tips the glass to his mouth. He sips from the rim before placing it on a nearby table. At the second before he was about to turn around to face your direction, your hand falls on Osamu's thigh.
"he's here. r-rin's here. what do we do, samu?!" you digits tremble as you meet a pair of calm eyes.
"get him a taste of his medicine." Osamu voice drops an octave. he brings his fingers on your chin to guide you to look at him. the proximity between you has become too close for a pair that claims to be nothing more than friends. he reassures you as he says. "trust me."
Osamu pins you between the back rest of the seat and him. he cages you with hand anchored at the wall next to your head as the other hand cups your cheeks. he is looking intently, not on your eyes, but you on your lips.
"is he looking?" he asks in a whisper but it enough to startle you. you take a glance at the space above his shoulder and spots suna looking at your direction.
"y-yes." you stutter.
"to you?" he presses.
"uhm, uh, samu i don't know." the distance is too far for you to see if he's peering at you or at an area near you.
"i'll make him."
suddenly, Osamu turns your face slightly away from him so the man behind him can have a clear view of you. then, his thumb runs over your bottom lip, dragging it across in a slow manner. you swallow hard at the sudden sexual tension between you and your friend, whom you have never been this intimately close to before.
you earn the confirmation that you wanted as suna's lids peel open once your eyes lock. osamu notices the way your eyes widen and takes it as a cue to pull your face back to him.
"enough of him." he brings your face back and just when you thought he'll crash his lips to you, shutting your eyes in an instant, you feel nothing a warm breath against your mouth.
you peek through your lids and see Osamu's half-lidded eyes and flustered cheeks. his orbs are glued to your lips as the muscle on his jaw tightens. his voice comes out raw, begging.
"why can't you love me instead?"
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a/n: to the ones who requested for this, thank you for letting me write this!! i enjoyed it very much and i hope you do too! thanks for reading and as per usual likes and rbs are very much appreciated. stay hydrated! :D
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Text
WATCHMAKER'S CLOCK
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a/n: brain farting after watching nevertheless,, in short an emotional dump and thoughts in a form of a short one shot writing
PAIRING: kageyama tobio x reader
WARNING: suggestive | aged up
GENRE: fwb | morning thoughts after sex
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you are obsessed with numbers. absolutely and completely drawn to measuring things, days, and most especially time. you believe that everyone has their own version of a clock; something that informs you about the longevity of warm days and cold nights. something that tells your sunset apart from your sunrise. for most, it's a person but for some it can be something intangible. for it's true that the quality of your day wavers with the thing that you're most attached to, controlling every bit of your emotional stability. hence, your clock.
your fingers curl around the soft linen of his blanket as your other hand gently pulls down your button up shirt in an attempt to cover your thighs. you sit at the end of his bed just below where his toes are. your legs shiftlessly swaying back and forth while your head slightly turned to him. your eyes shift to the bedside alarm.
6:42 am
this more or less fifteen minutes juncture is the only time you, like the others, can have your own clock. so, you look at him intently as you take your time.
the crest of his face greets the morning sun peeking through the cracks of the curtains. his dark lashes gleaming as the beams momentarily pans his eyes before rolling back to his cheeks. the strands of his raven hair sticking out in different directions that it almost looks funny. his lips unlatched as his chest softly heaves for air. your eyes trail his neck then his unclothed shoulders that is barely covered by the blankets. it takes everything in you to stop your fingers from tracing down his jaw, his neck, and his collar bones. your eyes glances back to the alarm.
6:50 am
you made it a point to wake up earlier than him. after countless nights spent together you have already grown accustomed to his body clock. he usually wakes up five minutes before or after seven am. liesurely, you take your time. your thoughts wondering about countless meaningless ideas as you devour your sight with him.
guaranteed, he's given you more comfort than your pasts because unlike the them, who promised you the moon, tobio promised you nothing but his gentle touch and soft moans. the assurance of no strings attached keeps your worrying thoughts at bay. but at times you find yourself greedy, like today, as you sit across from him. your eyes taking advantage of his unconscious state and your thoughts crossing the line. if i can't have love can i at least have him?
and just like that the universe swiftly snatches you back to reality as his body shifts under the covers. his eyelids lazily peeling open, blinking at the sight of your smiling face. he does the same. endearlingly smiling at you as he rubs one eye with the back of his hand.
"goodmorning." his morning voice greets your senses. he stretches his arms up before letting out a loud yawn.
"you're up." you say the obvious. thus, earning a gentle laugh from him as he nods in reply. he runs his fingers through his bed hair before locking gaze with you. you briefly break eye contact as your pupils glance to the bedside alarm clock next to him. you realize,
your time is up. it's time to let go.
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a/n: thanks for reading! i will proofread tomorrow bc apprently i have to be up in a couple of hours ughgh helppp
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Note
Hii! If your requests are open, May I please request a part 2 of *when you wear their shirt* with Haikyuu boys.
The first part was amazing..!
If that is okay Please pick from Miya twins, Iwa, Oikawa, Yuuji or anyone you like-
Thank you so much! Good day
hq boys' reaction when they see you wearing their shirt pt.2
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a/n: thanks for requesting, love. here's another uncalled brainrot
PAIRING: Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader | Kozume Kenma x Reader | Miya Osamu x Reader
GENRE: suggestive | INTIMATE | aged up | established relationship | timeskip kenma
part one
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iwaizumi, kenma, & osamu
🌌 IWAIZUMI: when iwaizumi texted you that he is on his way home after an overtime at work, you made sure to prepare the things he needs to rejuvinate his exhausted muscles and that includes your warm embrace. so as soon as you hear the keys jangle behind the front door, you instantly skip your way to it to welcome your boyfriend with a warm hug. the door opens, revealing your lover with a lifeless pale face. but as soon as his eyes catches on the familiar hem brushing against the skin just below your knees, he lost it. his eyes sparkled and his cheeks gained colors. he bottom lips falls ajar as he stares at you. "welcome home?" your tone came out unsure as you watch his eyes scan your body from head to toe. his eyes linger longer at your exposed thighs and instantly he drops the duffle bag in grip on the floor. he pushes the door close using his other hand, waiting for the click of the doorknob before rushing his way to you. his palms glide through your hips and down to the back of your thighs. using his built figure, he easily hauls you up to him. your thighs collising with his tiny waist. the sudden movement made you squeal in surprise. albeit, by instinct your arms cage around his neck thereafter, crossing your ankles behind him to prevent yourself from falling. he padded across the living room before pushing you against a wall. he then plants haste wet kisses on your neck down to your collarbones, earning a soft giggle from you. "why are you doing this to me?" he mutters, pressing his lips against your skin one more time before burying his face on the spot between your neck and shoulder. he slightly tilts his head up just enough for the tip of his nose to feather against your skin, leaving traces of him on your body. his warm breath fans against your sensitive neck and he speaks in pure endearment, "i missed you."
🌌 KENMA: you and kenma obviously missed spending time with each other even if it means staying at home and doing absolutely nothing. so as the clock ticks and it's arm passes by the numbers, you both didn't realize that it was too late for you to go home. kenma can't drive you to your apartment since he has a scheduled stream in a few minutes. hence, an accidental overstaying quickly turns to an uncalled sleepover. kenma prepares his desktop and other devices for streaming as you help yourself around his apartment. without clean clothes to change to, you search through your boyfriend's closet for a simple shirt. thirty minutes into the stream, you tiptoe your way inside his room. barely making any noise and keeping your body away from the camera. kenma notices you creeping inside. he glances at you. at first he didn't notice that you are wearing shirt but just to check why you came in, he swiftly averts his eyes from the screen to you for a couple of times until he realizes it. "fuck." he mumbles after muting his mic. his reaction made you a bit worried since it wasn't exactly how you imagined it. "is it okay to wear your shirt? i don't have anything to change to." you asks and replies, "give me a sec." after several key smashing, the screen of his desktop flashes victory and instantly kenma places his hand over the camera, rolling his chair back to allow space for you. he puts his free arm in the air gesturing you to come to him before uttering, "kiss me." as his eyes held yours. kenma isn't the type to show love through physical touch so verbally asking you to kiss him is something you didn't see coming. and sure enough that when you dipped in to kiss him and as he pushes himself to reach you, the cracks between his fingers widen allowing his viewers to catch a glimpse of you two kissing.
🌌 OSAMU: you had a huge fight with osamu about something petty but the arguments rose to the point where the two of you had it enough. since the dispute happened, the entire apartment was filled with silenceㅡthe type of stillness that gets you restless. and adding to it are unresolved feelings from early on. you know that you can't sleep with him in your shared bed. but at the same time you miss his touch. you miss scent. and you will definitely miss his cuddles tonight. so when osamu was in the shower, you scramble through his belongings, pulling out a shirt from the drawer and quickly changing to it. in this way, you'd feel close to your boyfriend without breaking down your walls. blame pride. you lie on the couch, waiting for sleep to finally devour you but minutes pass and all you could hear are the movements coming from bathroom: wet steps, the switch flickering, and the creaking sound of the bathroom door. you pretend that you are asleep so he wouldn't question your odd behavior. the densed air coming from the washroom tailed by the scent of the soap lets you know you boyfriend is within your area. probably, looking down at you with a baffled expression on his face as he dries his hair with a towel. "you can't do that." are the first words he said since you both ceased arguing. "you can't sleep on the couch and wear my shirt. how am i supposed to feel?" the soft thump coming from the towel being tossed to a chair resonates. the spot next to your hips depresses followed by a cold touch of moistened skin brushing against your thighs. right then, a body presses against your back and he lies next to you on the couch. his idle fingers travel from the point where the hem of his shirt meets with your thighs and lazily brings his hand up to your torso. "what are you doing?" you say, fighting every nerve in your body to react to his touch. he lips find their way to the shell of your ear. "i knew you were awake." leaving you no room to protest, he draws small circles from the center below your rib, to your abdominal, and down to your hip. "if this way to make peace then it's not working, samu" you feel him smile against your ear as if he knew you lied. his mouth strokes against the lobe of your ear up and down before his low and hished voice sends shivers down your spine, "always so stubborn, aren't ya?"
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thank you for reading! rbs and likes are very much appreciated :) also, i added streamer!kenma even though he's out of the choices i'm currently extra whipped for him these days damn it and i hope you guys like it :D
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Text
hq boys and their reaction when they see you wearing their shirt
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a/n: this is an impulsive idea and IM SCREAMING!!
PAIRING: character x small reader
WARNING: cursing | suggestive | aged up
part two
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ushijima, bokuto, & akaashi
🌃 USHIJIMA: i bet he's the conscious type. like, you have guys have been dating for quite awhile now but he doesn't let you wear his clothes because he thinks you wouldn't like it. he assumes that his perfume is too strong for you or his natural scent would turn you off. so, as much as possible he avoids any situation that might end up you wearing his clothes. until that one incident, though. when you both got caught up in the rain. unfortunately, none of you brought an umbrella. so, to keep yourselves dry you both run to the nearest shade, a space between a concrete wall and the edge of the roof. he is damp from the rain but contrary to him you are dripping wet. probably because his long legs took him to the cover area faster than you. as time goes by, the rain poured harder and the streets became hazier. you begin to shudder as the cold wind crawls on your skin. he notices. and surprisingly, coming from him, he insisted that you wear his shirt. it puzzled you because he's only wearing one layer of clothing so if you take the shirt it will leave him topless. nevertheless, he didn't give you time to think as his hand grabs onto the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head. you cheeks turns crimson as your eyes land on his torso. sure he's athletic and all that but you had no idea how wide his shoulders are. his core is well-sculpted and lean and his arms, oh dear heavens, you're loss for words. he steps in front of you, his back facing you, as an attempt to cover you from possible strangers passing by the streets. he drapes his shirt over his shoulder for you to take it as a you change. "i'll hold it." he says referring to your wet top. you it to hand him. his hand coils around your shirt. you visibly see his ears turn red when his eyes glances on the piece of clothing in his hand. it sinks in. you're wearing his shirt, he's topless, and he's holding your top. you bite the insides of you cheeks. "im done." you say as you flatten the crinkles by running your plams over it. his shirt hangs over you shoulder gently. the sides of it barely touching your curves since his size it multiple times bigger than you. then, it whiffs your senses. the scent of his perfume and him. you can't help but think how good he smells. he's dreamy; this instantly became your favorite smell. you look at him at the same time catching him wide-eyed peering at your small stature getting swallowed by his huge shirt. he looks at you thereafter jolting, embarrassed that you caught him gazing at you intently. he clears his throat. "keep the shirt." he looks away hiding his flustered cheeks. "it suits you."
🌃 BOKUTO: you two are chaotic as fuck. that's given already, i guess, i mean you're dating bokuto? your domestic date instantly became a hellhole when he decided to mess with the batter. of course, you wouldn't let him win that easily, right? and so you fight back throwing flour at his direction. he wipes chocolate on your face while you take a revenge by wiping custard on him. that precisely explains why you're standing inside the bathroom with his shirt on your hand. "i'll be quick." your voice echoes within the small tiled room. "take your time, babe." he says before continuing. "but don't take long! you have to mop the floor with me! the kitchen is a mess!" your chuckles blare inside the bathroom. you can imagine his eyebrows crossed and his hand gripping on his hair as he looks at the pile of deconstructed ingredients on the floor. you pull the oversized shirt down you shoulder. the hem of his shirt reaches your knees and the sleeves past your elbows. "this is like a dress." you say as you push the door open, revealing yourself to him. his drops the mop on the floor as his jaw unclenches. "what?" you say. he quickly scoops you up from the ground making you squeal outloud. he places you on top of the kitchen island with him between your legs. you look at him and by instant your lips pulls into a soft curve. his hands are on your back and his elbows on your thighs. his eyes are dilated and framed with lust and passion all at once. "why clean up the mess when we're not done yet?"
🌃 AKAASHI: you are staying the night at his place for the first time because you missed him so much after back-to-back training camps and playoffs. you were so excited about tonight that you even brought overnight clothes with you. you sit next to your mini backpack to unpack your pajamas. upon scrambling in your bag you realized that you screwed up. "i left my shirt." you say tilting your head up to look at him. he's sitting at the edge his bed and his eyes glued to the tv screen. "do you mind wearing my shirt?" he switches his gaze to you and hummed in question. "not, really." you say. the bed cries when he pushes himself up. he walks next to his drawer and pulls out a plain white shirt. "is this okay?" he says and you nod. you bid him a quick "i'll be right back" as you shuffle your way to the bathroom adjacent to his room. noticing how the hem of his shirt falls below knees and decided toss your pajamas. "akaashi, i don't think i need pants." you say, entering his room with your amused eyes still fixated at your new attire. you giggle as you put your arms up, wriggling your body inside his huge shirt. you look up to him only to see that he had been looking at you the whole time, the tv long forgotten. his lips are slightly ajar and his face hued with color. "akaa-" he cuts you off by briskly saying "wait." he kneels by his drawers, different from the first one, before pulling out a darker shirt. "wear this instead." he hands it to you. although confused, you obliged to his request leaving him alone in his room to change. when the shirt is finally hanged on your shoulders you realized what he gave you. his jersey. you join him back in his room and his eyes immediately lands on you. his eyelids peeled open. "turn around." he mutters in request. your eyes narrow at him but still you did what he said. he curses under his breath after you did a slow spin. "come here." he stretches his arms out for you to reach. when your hand coils with him he instantly pulls you to him. he lifts you by the torso. the back of your thighs making contact with his' with your knees folded and placed at the side of his hips. your bodies are inches away from each other. you feel the tension building up on your stomach as the expanse of his palm steady your back and his other hand cups your jaw. the air you breathe gets thicker. he dips in and stops when his lips slightly brushed against yours. "you are the one to blame for this." he says. his breath fanning against your lips. "you made me do this."
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a/n: it's always best to start fluff then ha ha ha
anyway, thanks for reading!~
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Text
HQ BOYS AND SENSITIVE SPOTS FOR KISSES
part 2
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part 1 focuses on the boys receiving a kiss from their s/o whereas part 2 focuses on the vice versa.
PAIRING: Miya Osamu x reader | Azumane Asahi x reader | Suna Rintarou x reader | Tendou Satori x reader
GENRE: fluff! | romance | intimacy | established relationship | AGED UP
WARNING: none? unless you're uncomfortable with intimacy
a/n: an impulsive idea just like part 1 hehe i hope enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing it (ノ´ з `)ノ
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Miya Osamu ㅡ inner thighs
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ive always had this idea that osamu fits the domestic boyfriend persona
like if he has to choose between hanging out with common friends like double dates vs cuddling next to you all day as you both binge watch netflix shows
i hc him choosing the latter
and that's exactly the case right now
as raindrops tap against the window of your shared apartment and the sky is painted in gravel-grey
both you and osamu decided to stay in for the day
and watch a rom-com movie at your living room
he has his head laid on your lap with his body spreaded across the expanse of the sofa
while you play with his hair, gently brushing your fingers through the strands as you both fixate your eyes at the flashing television screen
he slowly turns his head to the side making you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as the the two leads of the movie exchange romantic dialogues
just as you are about to be immersed at scene, you feel a wet kiss on your thigh
you pull your gaze away from the tv and your hand, that was once busy with his hair, instantly stops
osamu slightly pushes himself up using his elbow to allow just enough space for him to move his head
he begins trailing kisses from the middle of your inner thighs down to the point near your knees
"osamu," his name rolls out of your mouth.
"hm?" he hums in question, briefly turning his head to face you
and when he sees your face tinted in deep crimson, he takes this as a cue for him to plant one more kiss
he's visibly proud of the effect he has on you
"i love you," he mumbles before laying down his head back to your lap thereafter focusing his attention back to the movie
you, on the other hand, is caught in daze
Azumane Asahi ㅡ tip of the nose
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it sucks that you and asahi have different universities to attend to
but you're lucky enough to have a lover that cares for you even if distance prevails
so nothing excites you more than looking forward to when the clock hits four and twelve
cause it only means one thing,
you finally get to see asahi
and when it's finally time
you rush to the gates of your uni and immediately spots a towering man with long hair tied in a bun, his one hand grasped on the strap of the messenger bag hung over his one shoulder
you run to him, shouting his name at a distance, with a smile so wide he could see the molars of your teeth
he welcomes you with his arms raised up waiting for you to collide
and when you do, he wraps his limbs around you into a tight embrace akin to a bear hug before gently lifting you up
after a few seconds of hug, he pushes you at an arm length
both of his hands automatically finds its way to your cheeks
he tilts your head up
ngl cos he's too damn tall
before his lips peck on the tip of your nose
a giggle escapes your mouth making him mirror your giddy smile
his eyes rally from your nose to your lips and you already know what's about to happen
he asks,
"can i kiss you?" his orbs never leaving your lips
your giggle turns into a laugh upon hearing his consent, you utter
"baby, we've been dating for five years. of course, you can do that!"
the smile grew on his face and the tone of his voice drops lower
"good, 'cause i missed you."
Suna Rintarou ㅡ chest
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it's the busiest time of the year for suna and his ever demanding job, so he texted you right off the bat that he will be home later than expected
since you wanted to do something nice for him when he gets home
you decided to cook for him
dinner is the only meal you both share for the entire day since both of you are occupied by your respective careers
after a couple of hours or so, with you wrapping up the final seasonings of the side dishes, the main door to your apartment opens to a zombie-looking suna
"hey, babe, how's work?" you ask though it's obvious how beat-up he looks
"tired." he grunts
his heavy feet takes him to the sofa, his knees unlocks as he lets the comfort of the furniture softly massage his muscles
the backrest of the sofa supports his head as he peers at you at the kitchen
"what are you doing?" he questions
"cooking a meal for you."
"no." he says making you turn your head to him
"huh?" you pull your eyebrows together in confusion
"you can continue with that later. come here, i need you."
he uses his hand to tap on his lap, the corner of his lips pulling upwards into a lazy smile
without thinking twice you make your way to him, standing in front of him for a moment before placing your knees at both sides of his hips
he likes it when you sit on top of him in this manner
well, it's obvious enough the smile on his face stretches
he dips his head at the space between your neck and shoulder
you can feel his nose slightly brushing against your collarbones
and without any warning, his one hand reaches for your nape, pulling you closer to him
he detaches his face from your neck before bringing his lips down to your chest at the spot below the center of your collarbones
you voice hitches when his other hand pulls the neck rim of your shirt down, exposing more of your skin to him
his other hand that was once cupping your nape leisurely travels down your spine, his action made you sit straight
he patterns out a trail of kisses down to your cleavage and stops when the outstretch of your shirt reaches its limit
he lays the side of his head next to your chest, fluttering his eyes close he takes a deep inhale
he mutters to himself,
"you smell like home."
Tendou Satori ㅡ eyes/eyelids
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you are, once again, awake at an ungodly hour
you've always had trouble with sleeping or keeping a consistent sleeping schedule
so you are often left to your thoughts at the middle of the night
just like now
and once your thoughts no longer entertain you, you shift your attention to the man lying next to you
his bare shoulder is facing you as he sleeps on the other side of the bed
he finds comfort in sleeping with no top on
and being cheeky that you are, you take the man lying next to you to your advantage
you bring your finger near his back before dragging it down to his spine
a satisfied smirk plays on your lips
not until the apple of your eye shifts his body when he senses your touch
he rolls to the other side, facing you
he blinks twice before squinting his eyes
he presses his eyebrows together as his pupils adjust to the dimmed lights of the room
"nightmare?" his voice hoarse from sleep
you almost feel bad for waking him up
"no, i can't sleep." you respond
a light groan echoes from his mouth, he stretches one arm out before tapping on it
you gladly scoot next to him, lying your head on his biceps. he folds his arm so you can be closer to him
his other hand gently hovers your face, the tip of his fingers grazing over your eyelids making you shut your eyes on purpose
with the same hand, he places it on your cheek as his thumb caresses the crest of your cheekbone in a back and forth manner
his lips find its way to your shut eyelids, placing one kiss on one eye and the same to the other
"goodnight, angel."
he mumbles before slowly drifting back to sleep
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a/n: HOLY FUCK I THINK I ENJOYED WRITING SUNA'S PART WAY TOO MUCH OHMYGOD WHAT IS THIS HELPPPP IM ABOUT TO COLLAPSE bye gsnshs i hope you enjoyed this one! rbs and likes are very much welcome ♡ stay safe and stay healthy~
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Text
HQ BOYS AND SENSITIVE SPOTS FOR KISSES
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PAIRING: tsukishima kei x reader | atsumu miya x reader | kageyama tobio x reader | iwaizumi hajime x reader
GENRE: fluff! | AGED UP
WARNING: suggestive ? it's intimate (esp atsumu's) so if you dont like that just skip it
a/n: a quick and short headcanon cos im tired and sleepy but i cant keep this out of my head and i want to share it to you all (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
part 2
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(tsukki, atsumu, kageyama, & iwaizumi)
tsukishima keiㅡ behind his ears
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this boy LOVES kisses behind his ears
but obviously he wont tell you
it took him ages to outrightly tell you that he loves you tho you've been dating for months
let alone admit he's swoon over a sweet yet simple gesture
maybe, eventually, we'll get to that let's give moonboy time
he likes his kisses coupled with a back hug
he would pretend to hate it by masking it with an irked question
"what do you want?"
but he's secretly fighting off a smile on his face
you tip toe, probably pulling him down a bit during the process,
i mean ngl this man is HUGE
before planting a gentle kiss behind his ear
he unconsciously hums in response
and you know, a hundred percent sure,
that he has that same expression on his face when he spoons you in the couch
eyes fluttering close, lips softly pulled up, and his usual scowl wiped from his face
a side of him only you get to see
atsumu miyaㅡ neck
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bold, flashy, and affectionate
those are three words i would describe him as a lover
he likes it when you take the wheel, being the one in control,
the dominant
he likes it when you shower him with kisses and compliments and honestly the smirk on his face encourages you
you would sit on his lap, legs dangling down
or having your knees at the side of his hips as you pin him down on the headboard of the bed
he would, as if by instinct, tilt his head to give you more room to trail kisses down his neck
from the bottom where the neck meets the shoulder to his chiseled jaw
he moans
as his head falls back when you suck on the exposed skin, your teeth burrying as you pull it
before leaving a soft peck on the bruised skin
"baby, you know me well."
his eyelids halfway peeled open as he peers down at you sitting on his lap
a pleased expression is plastered on your face as you look at the vulnerable boy in front of you
kageyama tobioㅡ knuckles
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you know how much he cares for his delicate hands
it's no news that his hands play a huge part on his success in volleyballㅡthe only thing he ever poured his heart out for
until he met you
so you give the same amount of care to the things that he value the most
and you know that most of the time, nervous or not, he would stare at his hands during a match
so you figured the best way to cheer him on is to be in the court
not physically but through your kiss
so before the game, your hands would coil around his fingers
pushing it up and towards you as your lips meet the tips his knuckles
his pupils are fixed at you
as you imprint your a tender reminder that you have his back
he flashes you a smile painted in pure fondness and love
so when he's tensed on court he would look over at his knuckles to keep his nerves down
and whenever he pulls a perfect serve he would kiss his knuckles
like an indirect kiss
before searching for you in the crowd to meet eyes with you
iwaizumi hajimeㅡ shoulder blades
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unlike atsumu, i hc iwa as a reserved lover
not that he would resist holding hands with you or give you pecks on your cheeks in public
but he would rather show and receive affection within the four corners of his home
as an athelete, he is physically exhausted most of the time
so the most relaxing and ideal time for him is when he's out in the shower with only a towel draped over his waist
he sits on the edge of the bed as he dries his hair with another towel
you rap soft knocks on the door
and he lets you in
his bare top is too tempting for you not to touch
and he you know how much he loves it when you cling onto him after a long rough day
and so you sneak behind him
your hands placed on top of his shoulders before dragging it down to his biceps then pass his elbows
you balance yourself with the use of your hand set on the mattress
you dip your head down to the blades of his shoulder
your lips pressing against his damped and cold skin
his scent overpowers your senses
the smell of mixed vanilla and soap reminds you of home
and him
"the dinner is ready" you say
he looks at you through his shoulder
his eyes held comfort and solace
"stay with me here for awhile."
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a/n: i had a long day (actually since yesterday) and im tired,, i hope you like this! as usual likes and rbs are very much welcome ♡ stay safe and drink water! :D
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taekozuyang · 2 years
Text
• sunrise • sunset •
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hello, i'm pea. you may know me as a SFW writer on my blog @taeyamayang. this is my side blog focusing purely on NSFW so please DO NOT INTERACT with this blog if you are BELOW 18.
main blog: @taeyamayang <- interactions here
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◜ Recent Work ◝
(OS) Haikyuu!! - the line between us (suna rintarou)
➝ the line between us pt.2
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my inbox is open for:
• nsfw ideas (anon and ageless blogs will not be entertained)
• chit chats
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currently, i am not accepting requests. thank you.
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