Digging Through Really Old Haikyu Art...still Really Like This Yamaguchi.

can you do prompt #35 with tadashi and smut?

How to Summon a Succubus

Masterlist

FINALLY finished this. Took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do for this one. Oh, and this was supposed to be finished for HALLOWEEN. My apologies. Ps I’m totally down to make a part two if anyone wants it (give suggestions!)

Words: 3220+

Warnings: smut, first time, multiple rounds, mild aphrodisiac use (succubus saliva), fictional races, mention of sex work

Ft. Yamaguchi Tadashi x succubus!FEM!reader, Tanaka, Tsukki, Noya

Summary: Tadashi’s friends try to summon a succubus to get him laid for the first time. Unexpectedly, it works.

In a world of the supernatural, there were many different races and species and sub categories. Probably hundreds. But still, there were very few of you. You'd think the humans were weaker compared to the rest of the world, but them themselves held a power hard to beat.

In the 8,000,000,000 people on Earth, only about 4% of the people people living on it were of the supernatural. Still, most of them had rights and lived normal lives despite it.

You, on the other hand, had a harder time. 'Unnatural' skin covered your body, and two horns laid atop your head. Your heart-tipped tail swayed behind you as you walked, and left nothing to the imagination as to what you were. A succubus.

Parents hid their children from you, and avoided all eye contact with your unnaturally bright eyes. Refused jobs and services, kicked out of shops for 'suspicious activity', and immediately under suspicion if any sexual predator was on the lose.

You followed in your parents' footsteps, helping out at your eighth generation family business (if you could call it that). You sat on the receptionists chair, pretending to be busy so the clients in the waiting room in front of you wouldn't bother you. The government checked the place three times a year to make sure it was top-notch and in perfect shape, eyeing the smallest details to ensure nothing was amiss. Of course, they were only doing this because brothels like yours were in such high demand for humans.

"Welcome to The Bat's Wing, how can I help you?" You answered when you picked up the phone. "Summoning? Gosh, I dunno. Hasn't happened in hundreds of years so no one knows if it's a myth or not."

Obviously, you knew about summoning. It was a secret so buried that it was almost impossible to find out about.

"Oh? For your virgin friend?" You leaned into your desk, eyeing the entrance way through the glass separating the two rooms. "Well, he could always come and book an appointment. Too shy? Aw, what a shame. I love the shy ones."

"Alright then, Tanaka, you'd better have a good story to convince me," you listened intently. "Ah, well it seems as though you're on the right track. Do some more digging around the Meru bloodline and see where that takes you. Mhm, yep. Ok bye."

Ok so, you weren't exactly the best secret keeper ever. But dropping hints wasn't exactly exposing the secret, right? It's not like they'd be able to figure it out. 'Blood of a virgin'? Pfft, more like semen of a virgin.

"Why are you guys making me do this again?" Yamaguchi blushed as he sat in front of a pentacle drawn in chalk.

"Because you're the only virgin in the group!" Noya flailed his arms.

"Yeah, even The King has lost his," Tsukishima mumbled from the corner. "Just thought I'd help you out. Tanaka and Noya seemed like the only people who knows about this summoning bullshit."

Yamaguchi gulped and turned back. "What next, then?"

"'A tuft of the summoner's locks'," Tanaka recited from the sketchy old photo of a parchment he found after days of digging, "on the tip of the pentacle."

Yamaguchi snipped a patch of his hair right behind his ear, and laid it down on the silver plate. He followed with a vase of feathers on the left point, then a goblet of wine on the opposite side. Next was a bouquet of some very specific flowers on the bottom left, wrapped in a natural cotton cloth. In the right bottom hand point, he lit four candles; white, black, pink, and red.

"Anything else?" Yamaguchi sat back on his haunches.

"Um," Tanaka side-eyed Noya and Tsukishima. "Ok don't freak out, but a 'nip glass of a virgin's blood'."

"What the hell's a nip glass?" Tsukishima what everyone was thinking.

"Google it," Noya shrugged.

"Oh. It's a shot glass," Tanaka answered.

"A shot glass of my blood?!" Yamaguchi yelled. "No way! I'd have to really cut myself to get that much!"

"Well fuck," Noya groaned. "Where's the least damaging place we can—"

"I said no," Yamaguchi growled, glaring at his friend. "Any alternatives?"

After lots of thinking, and dumb ideas, Tsukishima finally spoke up and said:

"Well what about semen?"

Everyone stopped to stare at him, mouth's agape. Noya and Tanaka whipped their heads to Yamaguchi and he sighed.

"Fine. Better than blood," Yamaguchi begrudgingly agreed. Maybe then it won't work.

He padded up the basement and grabbed a shot glass before locking himself in the bathroom. He looked out to the bright full moon, and wondered how he got himself into this mess.

"Here," Yamaguchi said, firmly placing a shot glass of his cum in the centre of the pentacle. "Now what."

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” Tsukishima grimaced.

"Here," Tanaka passed Yamaguchi his phone. "Read the poem or whatever it's called."

"'A woman of desire, o' cometh to my side,

To aid me in my deepest dreams,

And to feed thou of what thou doth need’," Yamaguchi recited, squinting at the slightly blurry penmanship.

"'No needeth a cry,

No needeth a whip,

Cometh to drain me

Of my pastorship.'," he continued.

"'O' skin of flare,

And eyes o' rare,

I give you my word,

I'll provide you the cure,

O' thous' desire.'."

Yamaguchi continued down the paragraphs, blushing at certain parts, and finally reached the end.

"'O' woman so fair,

I'll lend thou mine care,

O' my phallus so heavy,

To send thou a sign,

So thou can come find me.'."

"Whatta bunch of bullshit," Tsukishima muttered.

"Ok folks, let's go and leave Yams to slumber,~" Tanaka sang as he dragged the two other boys along.

Yamaguchi gulped.

It began with the tingle of your toes. You thought nothing of it other than you were probably getting hungry again. A heat trailed up your body and you shivered in arousal. That was the second sign. It was almost instinctual how you rummaged through your drawers to find the perfect set of lingerie, not even knowing what you were looking for. The black set felt nice on your curves, and you threw over a sundress.

Your eyes grew bright, and you could see a shimmering light about a mile from your window. You blinked in surprise that whoever had attempted to summon a succubus had actually succeeded. You grinned. A nice shot of cum was waiting for you.

Slipping out of your window with a pair of sunglasses to hide your bright eyes, you made your way down the dark streets, following the faint glowing light that carved your path.

You stopped abruptly, and a sharp 'ZZIRP' noise rattled your ears. You opened your eyes to a dark room, save for the candles that were still (unsafely) lit. The boy you were here for was in his deepest REM sleep, and you felt giddy all over. You wondered what your fellow succubi would think when you went back and told them you had been summoned. You leisurely stepped out of the pentacle, careful to avoid the goblet of red wine. You pinched the flames with your fingers to put them out, and picked up the goblet.

You hummed as you sipped on the liquid, a very specific blend that you could recognize anywhere. After drinking the whole thing, you turned to the flowers. They were beautiful, and smelled of lust and nectar. The feathers were a nice touch, and you pinched the lock of hair on the silver plate. You realized that your sunglasses were long gone, as well as your dress, as you admired the fluffy green-grey hair. It smelled faintly of pine, and something warm you couldn't quite place. Finally, you plucked the tiny glass in the centre of the pentacle and grinned. The smell was intoxicating, and it made your heat throb excitedly. You used your finger to scoop out the cum, groaning each time you sucked the sweet nectar down your throat. Your tongue elongated as you licked the glass clean, not wanting to waste a drop of the sticky substance.

In a haze, you dropped the glass and wandered up the stairs of the basement. The door to inside was locked. No matter, it was probably just habit. You flicked your finger and the door opened with a quiet creak.

You admired the photographs on the wall as you wandered upstairs, smiling giddily when you saw the summoner. He looked like a sweet young man in his most recent pictures, and you gathered that he was still staying at his parents' house for whatever reason. The door of his room glowed, and you carefully slid it open to reveal a young man cuddling his pillow, sound asleep.

You slid the door shut behind you, and walked over to the foot of his bed. Eagerly, you trailed a hand up his bent leg and urged it to lay straight. Once it did, you hovered over his legs and used a finger to gently rub the front of his briefs. You moaned quietly as he hardened, and you hastily removed his underwear. You touched him some more, and his cock quickly throbbed upright. Precum was already drooling out of his slit.

"Hmph?" A very tired and confused Tadashi mumbled as he used his forearms to sit up, eyes blowing wide once he saw your hovering figure. He was speechless.

You grinned wickedly at him, waving playfully before moving your hand back down to grip the base of his cock.

"H-hi?" Yamaguchi squeaked once he came-to.

"Hello," you giggled. "It seems as though I've been summoned."

Yamaguchi could only stare as you greedily licked a stripe up his shaft, a soft moan emitting from his lips.

"What would you like me to call you, Summoner?" You hummed, nonchalantly pumping his dick.

"Y-uh you can uh, c-call me Tadashi," he stuttered out, squirming in place when you played with the head of his cock."I- ah~ -didn't think it w-would actually work."

"Well I'm happy it did," you grinned. "Working with a virgin isn't something I've done before. Plus, you're cute."

You beamed as he flushed, half turning his face to hide it. Yeah, you were definitely going to enjoy yourself. Tadashi finally took a good look at your appearance, throat going dry when he realized that you were barely covering your body, clad in only a black lingerie set.

"Like what you see, do you?" You smirked, walking your fingers up his shaft. You tapped lightly on the head of his cock, his pre sticking to the tip of your finger.

He stared in awe as you collected more of his pre, bringing it to your tongue. You moaned softly at his taste.

"I've already had a little taste earlier," you purred, nuzzling your cheek on his cock. "And I'm already addicted."

Tadashi's face glowed pink at the indication that you had drank the little shot glass of his semen, mouth gaping as you kissed sloppily up his shaft.

"W-what's your n-name?" Tadashi stuttered out, fists gripping his blanket under him.

"Oh how rude of me. My name is y/n," you licked your lips, giving him a wink. "But you can call me anytime."

Yamaguchi didn't have a chance to respond before you wrapped your warm lips around the head of his cock, quickly working your way down so you swallowed around his whole length.

"Ooah," Tadashi moaned, his head lolling back. He had never felt such a sensation, his body already shaking and close to orgasm.

You slurped greedily on his cock, the promise of his delicious sticky cum all too much to make you slow down. You slithered your tongue wherever you could, tracing the veins along his length.

All Tadashi could do was throw his head from side-to-side and firmly grip his bedsheets. Groaning unintelligibly, he flopped totally on his back and struggled to stay still, harshly trailing his hands up and down his body to grope at his skin.

"Ffffuuuuck," he keened loudly as you hummed and swallowed around his cock one more time before he came, warm ropes of cum going down your throat.

You sat back and watched as the boy beneath you slowly came-to, heaving for breath and eyes tightly closed.

"Sh-shit," he sighed quietly, heavy lidded eyes looking up at you.

"How was that?" You grinned, resisting the urge to continue to play with his sensitive dick.

"I-I can't even—" Tadashi struggled "—begin to explain how good that felt."

"You're about to feel so much better that that," you promised. "Trust me, I'm just getting started."

"I-I dunno if I can..." he began.

"Don't worry, my saliva will keep your stamina up," you pulled yourself onto his lap.

"Can I um... can I kiss you?" Tadashi asked nervously.

"Mmhm," you leaned closer. "You're such a good boy, Tadashi, asking so nicely."

Tadashi whined at the praise before you muffled his noises with a kiss. You could tell he was inexperienced from the way he nervously moved his lips with yours, but you didn't mind because it was kinda cute.

"Open," you said as you pulled back.

Tadashi did as he was told, and your tongue lulled out of your mouth to let a long drop of saliva to enter his mouth. The sweet taste of your spit made him moan in surprise, but you cut him off when you smashed your lips to his yet again.

"Touch me, Tadashi," you hummed lewdly, your eyes glowing.

Again, he did as he was told and let his hands trail over your figure, stopping at your waist to pull you closer.

"Fuck, I love how obedient you are," you groaned. "Such a good boy for me."

Tadashi's cock twitched, and you used your tail to reach down and pump his length. You swallowed his moans, elongating your tongue to explore his mouth. The feeling of your tongue gliding against his was enough for him to jerk his whole body, coming with a loud whine. The end of your tail opened as a second mouth, and it slurped up all of the cum it could.

You leaned back to admire Tadashi; his eyes were heavy with lust, and his cheeks were painted a pretty pink. His lips were swollen and shiny from your kisses, puffy and red. He had a calmer aura after you had kissed him, your saliva easing him into the lull of your dance.

"Ta~da~shi~" you hummed, trailing a finger down his sternum. "I bet you want to see what's underneath my outfit, hm?"

"Y-yes please," Yamaguchi nodded.

His heartbeat sped faster when your clothes were stripped from your body with a flick of your tail. He wanted to touch your breasts, the perky nipples of your tits causing his mouth to water.

"Do whatever you'd like," you purred, gloating in his gaze.

"Y-you're sure?" Tadashi gulped. "W-what if I—"

"Baby, look at me. I can overpower you in an instant," you grinned. "Trust me, I can stand up for myself. I'm a big girl."

Tadashi gulped anxiously as he reached his palms to your breasts and gently squeezed, marvelling at the feeling. You pulled his face flush to your chest, and you encouraged him to suck and kiss your tits.

"Good boy, juuust like that," you ran your fingers through his hair. "Your tongue is so soft."

Tadashi could only whine in response, his hands trailing down to your hips. "C-can I go in-inside?" Said his muffled voice.

"Oh, absolutely," you purred. "G'na fill me up so good, Tadashi."

You reached your hand down and wrapped it around his cock, giggling when it twitched in your palm. You pulled back so you could look at his face, grinning as he watched in amazement as you slowly dragged the head of his cock over your swollen bud.

"Mmm," you hummed, biting your lip. His eyes met with your half lidded ones, and he gulped nervously.

A loud keen echoed through the room as you inserted his glans inside of your pussy. "Feels s'good already," Tadashi moaned.

You watched contently as his face contorted in pleasure as you sank further down his shaft. You reached for his cheeks, and rubbed a tear away. Sometimes you forgot that human pussies couldn't compete with a succubus'.

"Holy fuck, holy shit," Tadashi's back arched and twisted as you let him get used to the foreign feeling. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were half shut in pleasure.

Once you were fully seated, you felt Tadashi's cock twitch once, twice, before spilling his load inside of you. Your body shivered in delight as the man beneath you gripped the sheets beside him.

"M'sorry," Tadashi mumbled. "'S my first time."

"Don't be sorry, baby," you cooed, holding his freckled face gently. "We have all night."

He whimpered when you began to move, eyes closing tightly for a moment. "Fuck," he said in a small voice.

"Mm, you fill me so good Tadashi~" you moaned into his ear, gently nibbling on the soft cartilage. You pulled back to look at his blissed-out face. "Shit, you're cute."

"Hnngh," he whined in response, eyes glossy with tears. "F-feels really good."

"I could fuck you forever," you sighed dreamily, rolling your hips in a circle. "I want to make you feel so good that you can only get off to the thought of me. Oh shit you feel so good."

Tadashi looked up at you with his watery eyes, awe still painting his face as he weakly tried to thrust his hips up to meet yours.

"Relax, baby," you purred, holding a hand to his heaving chest. "I got you."

You could tell that his body was just about done by the way his limbs weakly grasped onto anything they could, and how his eyes were almost closed.

You leaned down to kiss him, giving him more sexual energy with your saliva so he could have one more orgasm.

"Ffff-shit!" Tadashi wailed, back arching as his eyes rolled. "S-so... sho good."

Stomach twisting pleasantly, you finally allowed yourself to relax and ride your incoming orgasm, watching Tadashi with heavy eyes as he writhed and moaned lewdly beneath you.

"Fuck, m' gonna cum, Tadashi," you practically growled, leaning in close to suck and nibble on the skin of his neck. "Cum with me, baby."

Tadashi whimpered loudly at your demand, and he cried out as his cock forced out another load of cum into you. Your body shook and you quickly rubbed your clit, body shaking as you moaned in delight as your pussy sucked up every drop of cum it could. When you came down from your high, you looked down to see Tadashi dead asleep, snoring adorably with a line of drool on his chin. You cooed at his relaxed form, still sweaty and naked.

You tidied up what you could, before deciding to cuddle up beside Tadashi as he slept peacefully. You pulled the comforter over the two of you, and you admired the boy beside you before you yourself fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

a bit dirty - ch6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you sure are,” he says, warmly. 

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

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

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

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

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout. 

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

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

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

and you still don’t feel like a guest. 

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

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

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

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“stop that,” you hush him.

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

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

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

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

“you are,” you argue. 

/\ /\ /\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“not possible,” you say back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/\ /\ /\

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“samu,” you whine. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

and he can’t. 

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

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

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

“what now?” you mumble, not moving. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you look happy there. 

you look really happy there.

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♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

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

tsukiyama sm sm wip, HAHHHHAAAAAHHAHHAHAHAH

a lot of people on this website seem to be very upset about the way adults play pretend in their bedrooms while having consensual sex

⩩  𝘺𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪 𝘵𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘪𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴 // ꒰ 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑙 ꒱

by GoandSeek

the title is very dramatic. the fic is, i think, less dramatic.

❁❁❁

“I’m glad it was you,” Yamaguchi would tell him later, moving his supplies into the tent they would share with other pairs of their ranking. “The other shieldmen scare me.”

Tsukishima spoke quietly, “Do I not scare you?”

“No,” Yamaguchi smiled, and the line of gold that ran from his jaw moved with the motion, “Why would you?”

Words: 2453, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Yamaguchi Tadashi is really cool.

Fandoms: Haikyuu!!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Akiteru

Relationships: Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, kind of, War, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi Friendship, Spear and Shield, i don’t really know how to tag this, Dramatic title

Naughty 🌙

Read (and write) those ‘M’ and ‘E’ rated Tsukkiyama fics on AO3 almost exclusively. I love them.

But man, it’s almost always the ‘G’ and ‘T’ rated ones that hit you different. That have the emotional impact to tear your entire world apart.

Ayo, whatcha mean tsukkiyama is loser2loser? Open up you can come outside

Am I wrong??? Am I wrong?? Are you gonna look at me and tell me that I'm wrong?? Mr. Tsukishima "losing the idgaf war by a long shot" Kei, and Mr. Yamaguchi "Yeah, my bestie is cool, you wanna know how tall he is" Tadashi??? You're gonna look at them and tell me they're BOTH mister cool guys?? They're loser2loser on their worst days and nerd2nerd on their best, we have to be honest with ourselves, anon

30 sth successful in life yamaguchi wakes up in his old bedroom before his younger self walks in and the younger starts freaking out.

It was obvious he was crying, the poor 6 y/o kid had scratches all over his arms, tadashi knows very well what was going on during this Time After he calmed his younger self down, he hugged him close before getting the first aid kit he always keeps in the room hidden from his parents to not scare them and started patching up the wounds.

"So what happened?"

"Nothing,"

"Im not mom or dad. Im you, ill probablyRemember when was that exactly if you told me,"

"I- i just wanted to play in the playground," the kid said, voice shaking trying to control the tears.

"Oh that sucks,"

"And im too small to make them back off. Why am i too small? i hate myself,"

"You are still growing," itBroke tadashi's heart. He knows oh too well what he feels, it was his own feelings, small tiny and easy to bully with no friends.

"You are still growing and one day you will be big and strong and have friends!!"

"I don't think so,"

"Just you wait, it gets better i promise,"He doesn't think he can tell him how it gets better or his future, but he also knows he can give that kid a hug. A much needed tight hug to his younger self, a hug he also needed when he was young.

Then he woke up. He couldn't argue it was a dream, but it also felt too realBut even if he didn't actually hug his younger self, he manged to hug his inner child.

He opens his eyes, stars at the ceiling with teary eyes.

"Shit, are you ok babe?!" Kei asks, he always wakes up before him.

"I- i never been better actually,"

//fin