cw: suggestive
you hear karasuās footsteps pattering around the bed, floorboards creaking at every motion. wisps of his cologne graze your skin as he examines your form on his bedākneeling on the mattress with your hands cuffed behind your back, an indigo blindfold over your eyes.
you bite your lip as you hear him chuckle lowly, āwhat a sight, darlinā.ā
āitās all for you, tabito,ā you say softly.
the mattress dips with a familiar weight and you smell his cologne again, this time much stronger as he presses a soft kiss to your lips, his rough and warm hand stroking your cheek.
you squirm under his touch, anticipation brewing. dark blue inks over your vision, hindering karasu from it, but you can only imagine he has his signature smirk on his face.
his cologne fills your nose againālavender mixed with cashmere wood, a dash of amber pinched in. a scent youāre used to, a scent youāre comforted by. his lips graze your ear suddenly, making your back arch from the ghost of his breath.
āi have somethinā for ya,ā he whispers. āsomethinā new for ya tāplay with. be good and wait here, yeah?ā
you nod, always on your best behavior for him, excitement stirring in your fluttering stomach. his cologne fades and you hear him exiting the bedroom, the door clicking. perhaps a new toy of sorts? or maybe some new restraintsākarasu always liked the sight of you being tied up.
the door clicks open again a moment later, karasuās familiar adagio of his footsteps reaching your ears and you can smell his cologne again.
but thereās something else. thereās a pair of quieter, yet more quickened footsteps trailing behind him. theyāre not as heavy as karasuās; theyāre rather paced and steadyāan allegro.
then, you can pick up another scent. another cologne. a mix of jasmine and agarwood, a softer scent in comparison to karasuās. you feel like youāve smelled it before.
āsweetness, i thought that we could use ānother helpinā hand for tonight,ā karasu states to the right of you, but you feel the mattress dip from your left. āhope ya enjoy.ā
the foreign cologne suddenly fills your senses, and a hushed voice reaches your left ear, an intonation that suddenly sounds all the familiar when you reach an epiphany as a thinner, cold hand tucks a piece of hair away from your face.
āwhatās up?ā otoya murmurs into your ear.

















