Rinnie

it was right after the opening of the third onigiri miya location in tokyo, the two of you riding off the high of osamu’s success.

you’d pushed him into his bedroom, lips attached to his as you peeled his layers off, one by one. he wouldn’t, couldn’t lie to himself and say that your forcefulness wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever experienced, all his previous partners insisting on taking a more passive role.

not you though. you were a force, a gale wind in a hurricane, just waiting to sweep him up into you, to consume him. and he was going to enjoy ever second of it.

the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, sending him sprawling on his back, his nice shirt unbuttoned and his chest heaving for air as your lust-filled gaze traveled down his body, setting his face ablaze.

osamu reached for your hand pulling you down on top of him, his breath fanning across your face. “c’mere,” he muttered before pressing his mouth to yours.

your hands trailed down his torso, brushing past his hard nipples on your way to his pants, but the feeling sent a bolt of pleasure down his spine, his back arching into you and a raspy moan floating into the kiss.

oh.

oh.

you pulled back in surprise first before a mischievous smirk spread across your face. “oh, sorry,” you whispered, not sounding very sorry at all. then, you proceeded to suck his cock so hard, he passed out for a solid 2 minutes afterwards.

after that night, osamu forgot all about his extreme nipple sensitivity, the pair of you resorting to quickies and relatively vanilla sex. not bad, not bad at all, but something was missing for him.

that was until tonight.

“osamu,” you start, standing in front of the television, making your boyfriend miss the starting serve from his brother’s match, “i want to play with your tits.”

you what????

samu chokes on his soda, sputtering and coughing to get the remainder out of the wrong pipe. “ya what? i hate ta tell ya this babe, but i don’t have tits.”

you roll your eyes like he’s the dumbest person in the world before shoving his shirt up above his pecs and licking a firm stripe across one of his dark nipples.

the sound that leaves him is guttural, his eyes rolling back in his head as his dick hardens up faster than you can say “onigiri.” a grin lifts the corners of your mouth while you lower your head back to his chest.

“i’m gonna make you cum, just like this, okay?”

fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna be the death of him.

all osamu can do is nod vigorously, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair, not pressing or guiding you but helping him stay on this plane of existence lest he ascend from all the pleasure you are bound to give him.

the smile is back as you lean back in, your lips wrapping around his hard bud and sucking, tongue flicking over and around it like your trying to suck his soul out through the skin. your other hand toys with the unoccupied nipple, pinching it on the right side of painful, making osamu buck his hips up against yours.

you hum your dissent at his movements, the vibrations causing him to whimper as you lift your crotch up and away from him. “i said, just like this,” your words are sharp and pointed and osamu swears he’s never been harder in his life.

unfortunately (or fortunately?), those are your last words before you really dive in, licking, sucking, and biting at his pecs like your starved of it, starved of him and he feels like he’s going to explode.

osamu’s body quivers and shakes beneath you, a symphony of his moans and the wet sounds of your tongue on him filling the room. they only add to the heat coiling in his gut, one that’s threatening to snap with every graze of your teeth against him.