v

kuroo x fem!reader pairing

by vivak

warnings: smut. (what’d you expect from me). some arguing, but not much other than that. a little angst if you squint. pining pining pining. 

You’ve been through your fair share of dilemmas before. You know dilemma. Dilemma in all of it’s funny, little forms. Like passing out at three in the morning after studying for finals, or your friend running to you for advice about her raunchy ex, or that one time you got black out drunk during your second year in college and ended up on one of those annoying sleeping pages on your school’s media accounts, right next to those unfortunate people with bad posture and questionable shoe choices in the public bathroom. No, you’ve been through everything, but right now, in this very moment in time, there is only one single thing that’s driving you up the wall, and that’s Kuroo Tetsurou, in all his room-matey glory.

By all means, Kuroo is a great roommate, you definitely couldn’t deny that. He’s clean, he never overhauls the washer with his clothes, (thank the lord). He isn’t annoying, at least, not completely. He even helps cook dinner, sometimes, and with you and your subpar culinary skills, you are beyond grateful for whatever god sent him to make one hell of a curry dinner. Kuroo’s completely out of this world, he’s smart, he’s handsome. Like he’s straight out of some x-rated rom con, the one with the oblivious roommate and her hot best friend that are constantly pining for each other. You don’t dare think of the part where they finally snap and fuck each other, because how unrealistic is that?

You both met in high school, known about each other, hung around with mutual friends and eventually went to the same college with each other, and then somehow the stars aligned; whether that be a blessing or a curse, and you were in a dire need of a roommate. Kuroo just happened to be one of the first people you thought of, because funnily enough, he was looking for someone to move in with himself. (And because being a broke college student isn’t fun, it’s no surprise you jumped at the opportunity of splitting expenses in half.)

Your relationship was casual. Of course it was, it’s not like you were complete strangers. Maybe you’d even be bold enough to call him one of your closest friends.

So it was only natural for you to despise the small handful women he sometimes brought home late at night, pretend like you don’t hear them screaming out their pleasure and his bed rock against the wall, the wall opposite to you, like you aren’t even there, like if it wouldn’t wake you up even if you were asleep.

Maybe you’d bring it up to him, tell him how disgusting and nasty he is the morning after, scold and yell at him to tell you before, or give you a text, or warn you. But you don’t, because he’s a man, he’s got a sex drive, and maybe that doesn’t make it right, but you need so desperately to convince yourself that you don’t need to bring it up to him, because you know you’d just fuck it all up in an awkward conversation of, ‘oh, you should be more quiet when you have sex, man’.

So you put in your earbuds and turn your music up to one hundred.

“We need to get milk,” you say, bent over and looking into the fridge. “Think you could stop by the market when you get back home?”

Kuroo makes a noise of confirmation, hear him put on his shoes and shuffle around near the front door, the jingle of his keys. “Yeah, sure.”

You close the fridge and turn to the stovetop, water boiling and a box of mac and cheese half open. “Oh, and can you get me one of those Kitkat bags, with all those mini ones?”

He laughs, “Are you gonna pay me back?”

“It’s not a lot,” you say back sharply, stirring the pot. “Plus I got you those cherry rope things last time, you still owe me, don’t think I forgot.”

“Yeah,” he grumbles, “And you still owe me for that one time I got you a chocolate bar at the movie theater.”

The water boils over, and you have to lift the pot off the heat to make it fall back down. “Fine, I’ll give you cash when you get back.”

“Holding you to that,” he sings, opens the front door and peeks back at you from over his shoulder. “See you later.”

You wave him a dismissive goodbye, grabbing a strainer from the drying rack. “Bye! Don’t die.”

“Don’t plan on it!” Then the door closes shut and the lock twists.

You’re left with the bubbling of your mac and cheese water, how amazing.

When the noodles are done, you strain them into the sink with the cold water running and mix all the ingredients into the pot, bright hot orange cheese packet melting and turning all gooey.

Truly you’d be better off in your room, on your computer, your English essay was definitely waiting for you to get it done, but you sit at the kitchen table with your bowl of half-cold, quarter eaten mac n’ cheese and stare at it like it’s personally offended you, and fuck, maybe it has, with how long you’ve been glaring at it.

Kuroo is such a mystery to you.

Talks to you like he didn’t just fuck some chick into oblivion with you right next door the night before.

Maybe, you think, you just need to get laid.

Hard.

So you finish your bowl, clean it in the sink and go to your room, message your friends about any parties happening the next day, and decide that you’re going to do just that, get laid. Bring them home to your bed and let them fuck you nice and hard, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll give Kuroo a run for his money.

Rin’s a nice guy, has kind eyes and a wide smile and a shaggy head of handsome pitch black hair. Doesn’t have the same badboy type of attitude that you find so interesting, but he’s smart, he’s got familiar eyes, and honestly, if you were sober and your head was clear, you might even say he shares a shocking resemblance to Kuroo, but you don’t want to think about him, only want to fuck and drink and have fun, so he doesn’t look like Kuroo. Not one bit.

You meet him halfway through the night at some bar off campus with your friends, and they leave you with a wish of a ‘good time’ and an extra shot.

The conversation is okay. Definitely not anything riveting, nothing you wouldn’t expect from two drunk adults in a bar surrounded by sweaty bodies and the smell of sex and vomit. Maybe something along the lines of, ‘what are you here for?’, and, ‘how about you let me take you home?’.

Poor man’s out of it, can tell by the way he slurs his words and presses his fingers into the plump of your hips. Doesn’t seem like the type to get this drunk, that much is clear, so you assume he’s running away from something, and it’s perfect because deep down, you know you are, too.

He’s a decent kisser. A little inexperienced if his sloppy nibbles say anything, but it’s nice, he’s warm, and honestly, a hot strong body against yours is really all you need, so you bring him home. Fumble with your keys in the lock, kick the door open with your leg, and you lead him to your room. It’s dark, and the apartment’s silent, save for your shared breaths.

Kuroo’s bedroom has light spilling from underneath the door.

Both of you fall down onto your sheets, crumbled, in a raging flurry of kissing and touching and groping.

Rin strips you naked, and you do the same for him. He’s got a nice body, broad shoulders, looks like heaven when you stroke his cock, so you wrap your legs over his hips and push him closer until there’s no space between the two of you, and urge him to kiss you harder, hold your body and fuck you deeper. Thankfully, he obliges with a pretty little gasp of your name and a tremble of his thighs, grinds and moves against you like it’s the one thing he was put on this earth for, and it makes you feral, makes your voice sex-ridden and loud and high pitched.

He gasps when you tip him over on his back and ride him, smile and laugh with a breathless, “You like this, baby?”

His mouth is hot and wet against every part of your body, the delicious squelch of his cock loud in the air, and you love the way he begs and cries into your skin, stutters out a quick response of, ‘yes, it feels so fucking good’, and it’s desperate and whiney and oh so beautiful. When you two cum, it’s in a loud, half-scream, and he cums inside of you.

You’re thankful you’re on the pill.

The next morning, Rin’s gone. It was nothing more than a one night stand and you doubt you’ll ever see him ever again. But his smell lingers in the air, some expensive cologne, and the image of his clothes thrown around your bedroom floor is burned into your eyelids. The amazing warmth you felt last night’s long gone, and you have to wrap yourself all up in your blankets to hold off the cold air of your AC unit. Some sad, lonely part of you misses him, and you cringe, scrunch up your nose and stare into the ceiling, feeling horrible about yourself and your pathetic, depressing want of something more that you know you’ll never be able to have.

You want nothing more but to sleep the day away, but you know that isn’t something you can actually do, so you sit up, hair all messy and wild and naked in your bed.

When you’re all clean and proper, you head out to the kitchen, Kuroo must still be sleeping, (it’s his day off), and you’re starved, so you get to making some breakfast.

Not even half-way through scrambling some eggs, Kuroo’s bedroom door opens and he walks out, shirtless with his pajama pants hanging low, hair crazy like it always is and his mouth in a tight line. He doesn’t say anything, just walks to the fridge and pulls out the milk and a box of cereal from the cabinet.

“You want eggs, right?” you ask.

He freezes for a second, then carries on making his cereal. “I’m fine,” he says.

You can’t think of a time where Kuroo doesn’t eat the breakfast you make for him.

“Why?” you press, and stop stirring the eggs. “You okay?”

Kuroo shrugs his shoulders, puts the milk back in the fridge and leaves the cereal on the counter. “Yeah.” he takes a spoon out of the drawer and takes a bite, “Just not feeling it.”

“Well,” you start moving the eggs to a plate, “That’s fine. It’s just weird, you always ask me to make you breakfast in the morning-“

“You sounded like you had fun last night.” he interrupts you.

Giving him a look, you reply, slowly. “I guess so. Just happened to go to a bar last night.”

“Yeah,” he continues chewing on his cereal, “It was loud.”

“I mean, I guess.”

He shrugs again, it’s so obviously angry, and he turns to walk to the living room with his bowl.

Huffing, you take out a fork and mumble, “Not like I don’t hear you when you have girls over.”

“What was that?” he snarks.

“Dude,” you half yell, “What is your problem, Tetsurou? Seriously, what the fuck?”

He stares you down, looking funny standing in the middle of the room with a spoon clenched in one hand and his bowl in the other.

You point at him with the end of your fork, “You don’t get to ask that type of shit. And you heard what I said,” you snap, “I have one guy over and you complain.”

“Well,” he stutters for words, “Yeah! It was loud. That’s literally what I just said.”

“And you don’t think you fucking some bitches next door isn’t loud?” you scold, “I wanted to have someone over, so what? Am I not allowed to do as I please in my own fucking house?”

Kuroo gapes at you.

Before he has a chance to reply, you’re already walking away into your room, fork and eggs forgotten on the counter, and slam your door shut.

Sleeping the day away doesn’t sound so unreasonable anymore.

The next few days are awkward, even more so than you expected them to be. There’s no small talk, or side eye glances, or the weird shuffle in the hallway people do when you’re unsure on which side you should walk on. No, It’s all silent, in the morning, to the afternoon, all the way to when you both turn in for the night, and frankly, it bothers you.

This just might all be my fault, you think, like a moron.

Then it dawns on you this isn’t any of your fault, it’s Kuroo’s. His selfishness and his hypocrisy is what brought you to this moment, sad and feeling helpless over something that isn’t at all something you should be moping over. It’s all so frustrating; hate how you slowly descend into this some kind of dumb, stupid, pointless madness of anger when not even two nights after your fight, you hear his bed jump up against the wall again, loud and clear, making you all so aware of the mystery woman on the other side getting fucked.

You think, what a man-whore.

The girl’s loud. Kinky, too, if you go off her comments. ‘daddy’, this, and ‘daddy’ that, it makes you feel sick to your stomach, like this is nothing but a game, a twisted, nasty plot to get you all jealous and bothered. Kuroo’s master plan of driving you positively insane.

So you play your music and ignore the ache in your chest.

“It’s not even like I care,” you say loudly, picking up your sandwich and taking a bite. “He can fuck whoever he wants, but I should be able to do that too, you know?”

“I agree with the whole, you can fuck whoever you want part,” Kenma agrees through chewing his food. “But are you completely sure you don’t care?”

You swallow, “Of course I don’t,” you lie, “But it seems like he does, I mean, he wen’t crazy over me bringing a guy over. You know how many times I’ve stayed up having to listen to him and some chick late at night?”

He nods his head, leans back in his chair. “You’ve told me.”

Kenma looks all lazy on the other side of the table, borderline annoyed, all things considered. Considering you’ve talked about Kuroo for the last thirty minutes straight, despite this being a lunch about catching up.

“Exactly.”

“Why don’t you just talk it out?”

Laughing, you say, “Talk it out? With Kuroo? I just feel like he’ll be a smart mouth the entire time.”

Kenma gives you a dirty look. “So you haven’t sat him down and talked about it.”

“I’m not doing that.”

He shrugs, like it’s hopeless. “I don’t know why you’re being so difficult. It’s really easy, just tell him how you really feel about everything. Just don’t go crazy and start yelling.”

You cross your arms. “What am I supposed to say?” you ask quietly.

“Just tell him how it bothers you, he’d understand I’m… pretty sure.” the way he says it doesn’t bring you confidence.

Quirking your brow, “And if he doesn’t?”

“Beat him up,” Kenma jokes, chuckles and wipes his hands clean of crumbs with a napkin. “Just tell him. If it goes south or something call, we’ll get drinks on me.”

“Oooh,” you coon.

“You’re so annoying.” he shakes his head.

You stare at him for a good half a minute, then sigh.

“Fine,” you inhale deeply through your nose, “Gonna suck some ass if this all blows up in my face, though.”

“It’s not going to.” he reassures you.

On the drive back home, you text Kuroo you have something to talk about.

Sometime’s it’s like he’s a man child. Sprawled over the couch, legs all kicked up over the cushions and head lolled over with a look of absolute boredom; like he can’t take you seriously, or won’t, either way, it makes you wanna scream and shout at him, but you know that’ll do little good for either of you, and the very last thing you want is for him to flee to the safety of his room, so, you wait.

“I’m sorry.” he says eventually, it’s quiet, and there’s a little bit of insincerity in there, like he’s struggling to own up and apologize.

“For?” you press.

“Getting mad when you brought that guy over.” he sighs. “I had no right to do that.”

No matter if he means it or not, you say, “Thank you.”

You hope now, this is where your relationship tips back into place. Crave the (semi-regular) normalcy you two had before you brought a man over, and it’s starting to look like things are going to go back to the way it was, so you get up out of your seat, grab your bag off the kitchen table and start to make your way to your room to start preparing for bed.

He says your name, then, “Actually, no.”

You turn to him with questioning eyes. “What?”

“I don’t like how you brought that guy over,” he’s sitting up now, looking annoyed. “I hate it. I really fucking do.”

“I don’t think you have a place to say that to me, especially with the type of shit you pull.” you warn.

“I do the shit I do for a reason.” he defends.

Readjusting the bag in your hands, you frown. “And what reason is that?”

He doesn’t say anything, so you shake your head, hands getting all sweaty. “I don’t understand, Tetsurou. Look, all I’m asking is for you to stop bringing girls over, or just to stop being so loud. It’s like you’re jealous, or something.”

Kuroo blushes and turns his head away in a sad attempt to hide his fluster from you.

Tentatively, you ask, “Are you?”

He takes a shuddery breath and looks you in the eyes again, his cheeks still pink. “It is bad to say that maybe I am?”

“Well,” your mouth is dry, “Why are you? Did you just fuck all those girls next door to make me feel bad, or something?”

He shakes is head, “No. No, that wasn’t my intention.”

“Then what was?” you bark, starting to get angry. Growing tired of his games, exhausted from all this stupid back and forth, getting nowhere, moving toward nothing.

Kuroo says something under his breath, and it’s muttered and gargled under what you can only assume is embarrassment.

“What?”

He closes his eyes and centers himself, rubs his hands over his knees, “I didn’t think it bothered you that much,” he starts, and he knows you want to say something, but he puts out a finger to stop you. “I know how bad that sounds, but maybe it’s because of how, I don’t know, fuck, I’m so pent up and want you so bad, felt so much about you, and I know I can’t so I go to other girls to get that satisfaction, and maybe it did feel good knowing you could hear me in the beginning, but now I hate myself for making you feel horrible-“

“What did you just say?”

He gives you a look and tilts his head. “What?”

You put your bag on the kitchen counter and step up to him, raise your hands, shaking, unsure where to touch him. “I literally don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry,” he stares at you like you aren’t even there, “What?”

“God,” you groan angrily, “This is so fucking frustrating. This whole situation is so fucked.”

To think, after all this time, through your pathetic means of getting back at him, Kuroo wanted you as much as you wanted him. You want to scream, to cry, but you don’t, because there’s only thing on your mind now. Show him how much this little predicament has gotten to you. Because gods, you need it. And he deserves it in the worst way possible.

“The only reason I fucked that guy is because I wanted to get back at you!” you scoff, fuming. “I hated how you were getting laid so much, that I wasn’t getting laid at all, I thought, maybe, I’d be able to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

The moment lasts far too long for your comfort, both of you scared to make the wrong move, say the wrong thing, shatter this fragile moment into a billion little pieces.

Then, he asks, “So, what now?”

I don’t know, you think, what do two people do when they’ve been pining after each other for god knows how long?

You hate the way your hands shake, the way your entire body shakes with something like giddy anticipation. And maybe it’s the way he’s just sitting there, looking up at you like a lost puppy unsure what to do, or the way his eyes are just so round, or his hair is just so messy and so him, but you can’t help yourself, know that this is a moment that you’ll probably never get to see ever again, and god, you’ll never forgive yourself if you passed this up. So you ask, breathless and quiet, “Can I kiss you?”

He swallows, “I mean, yes-“

The adrenaline of it all hits you like a freight train, and you’re already up and on him, grasping his face in between your hands and pulling your lips together.

It’s not gentle, or sweet, or the first kind of kiss you were thinking of whenever you thought of kissing Kuroo. It’s all teeth and hunger and like you’re a girl again, with all that teenage lust that everyone feels at least once in their life when you’re all overcome by hormones and horniness. Or maybe it’s just the relief of finally, finally, getting something you’ve been waiting so long for. The ferocity of wanting to keep that very same thing you’ve waited for.

He’s a good kisser, lips are so soft and body so warm and delicious against you when he pulls you closer, and you almost forget to jerk away for air, until he’s the one pulling back, face pink and pretty and lips swollen red.

He pants against your mouth. “I’ve thought about this so many times,” he admits.

You laugh and press your foreheads together, staring him in the eyes and giving him a lazy little smile. “I’ve thought about it, too.”

When he catches his breath, he moves his gaze down to the seams of your pants, thumbs at it with the tips of his fingers, like he’s unsure or doesn’t know how to go further.

So instead, you’re the one to press forward. “Want to bring this to the bedroom?”

Kuroo looks up at you then, still fiddling with your jeans, but he nods, returns a smile back and presses your hips closer with strong, firm hands until you can feel the bulge in his shorts.

“Well,” you joke, “That answers my question.”

He grunts a playful, “Shut up.”

Laughing, you place a wet kiss under his ear, breathy and hearty, and wrap your arms around his neck and clasp your hands together.

“Up, up and away.”

It’s his turn to laugh now, hoisting you up on strong legs and leading you to your bedroom, pushing it open with his knee, setting you every so tenderly on the bed, like you’re made of glass, and leans over you. Starts staring at you like you’re something to figure out, or a puzzle to be solved. The air’s heavier than ever, foggy and clouded of the possibility of what’s to be, what can be. Pushing up on trembling arms, you catch his face between your hands again, (you make sure to be softer this time), and press your mouths together in a nice, long kiss.

Now, you think, this is what I’ve dreamt of.

It’s not long before you both have your clothes off, thrown about like a hurricane came fresh through. Tetsurou’s babbling nonsense, mouth on your skin, on your neck, behind your ears, biting on your tits. Hands massaging the skin of your thighs, trailing up, up, up until he’s got handfuls of your ass in his palm, mouth hanging open and muttering praises of how pretty you are, how much he’s thought about this, how grateful he is to have you all to himself; and it makes your heart jump out of your chest and soar.

There’s nothing like this, you decide. No other way you’ll get a kick like this, than without with him. No, you knew you were never gonna be satisfied unless you had him all to yourself, and now, finally, you do. And it’s one of the most amazing things in the world, and it’s so cliche, you hate cliche, but being with him just makes you feel so safe and whole.

You breathe out his name, pleading into the hot air of your bedroom, and he comes up to greet you, hair tousled from your hands and a familiar glint in his eyes. He kisses you again, and it’s quick, before he’s pulling back again and waiting for your signal.

“This is gonna be more than this, right? More than sex, I mean.” you ask carefully.

He smiles. “I want this to be more,” he says. “You’ve always meant more to me.”

You draw circles on his skin with your finger. “Same for you. There’s just, I don’t know. It’s kinda embarrassing to call it a crush, I’ve just always wanted more, I’d definitely be lying If I say I haven’t thought about you in that way, if I said I haven’t liked you for a while.”

Tetsurou looks like he’s trying to think of the next words to say, then, lightheartedly, he says, “This definitely isn’t a one night stand, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Snorting out a laugh, you shake your head. “God, you’re annoying. No. Of course not.”

“Because if it was It’d be awkward to know the person I had a one night stand with lives, literally, right next store.”

“Yeah,” you muffle another laugh, “No shit.”

He smiles against your skin, gives a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, and pumps himself with his hand, he’s hard, painfully so, you can only imagine how many times he’s thought of you while he was getting himself off, or thinking about you while he was fucking other women. It’s a dirty thought, it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat, and you still hate that he got it on with other women, women who aren’t you, but you settle with, ‘It’s in the past, he’s mine now. God, he’s all mine and I’m never letting him go’.

“Can I?” he asks for permission.

Such a gentleman.

You press your chest against him. “Of course.”

He’s gentle at first, kneads your thighs under his hands and thrusts into you with a sort of desperate vigor. He’s holding back, you can tell, know because you’ve heard him be rougher when you were separated by a paper-thin wall, so you stretch until your lips are to his ear, tell him that it’s okay for him to go hard, tell him to break you beyond repair.

It’s like something breaks then, and he speeds up. Hits so deep inside you and ticks all your boxes.

“Oh, fuck.” you gasp, claw at his shoulders and laugh when he winces at your nails scraping up and down his back.

Tetsurou groans your name, arms straining and eyes rolling beautifully into the back of his head. The bed rocks against the wall, and he nuzzles into the skin of your neck, hot and warm; then he’s babbling again, warns you that he’s about to cum, tells you to do it with him. And with a few more hard, rough thrusts, you both cum together with a loud, broken shout of each other’s names.

When he pulls out, there’s an icky sticky feeling between your legs, but never mind that, he slides over to the spot beside you, despite his body being all big and legs almost too long for your bed.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” you whisper.

“Because we’re idiots.” he turns over, pulls you into a hug and sighs into your skin.

“You mean you’re the idiot?” you tease.

Tetsurou whines, “Don’t do that to me, baby.”

“Okay, okay.” you take a long, deep breath. “Man-whore.” you whisper.

He pulls back and looks at you, face full of faux shock. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He groans and leans his chin on top of your head, fingers twitching against your skin.

“I’m sleepy,” you say after a good five minutes of silence.”

He hums, “Then go to bed.”

The ache in your legs is uncomfortable, and you have to turn around in his arms when you almost feel like they’re about to fall asleep. “‘eed to clean up.”

“Do it tomorrow.”

You make a face.

When he senses you’re about to say something else, he shushes you, tightens his hold and settles deeper into the sheets.

You think you’d put up more of a fight, but he’s just so warm, you feel so tired, feel too comfortable in his arms to get up, so you return the embrace, close your eyes and let yourself fall asleep.

It’s not perfect. There’s still a lot unsaid, but you know you’ll talk more about it tomorrow. But right now, everything just seems okay, everything’s alright, and you’re in his arms.

And that’s all you’ve truly ever needed.

Bless Kuroo Tetsurou being your roommate, despite everything.

by vivak

general warnings: bondage, softish!dom waka, face and thigh slapping. some name calling

chapters: ch. one, ch. two, ch. three, ch. four

chapter four: strapped up (bonadage, part one)

You’d be lying if you said the experience at your local sex shop wasn’t a little bit awkward; especially with Wakatoshi right at your side, looming like he always does whenever he’s anywhere else but your apartment. Having looked up ‘sex store near me’, funnily enough, there was one less than five blocks from you two, (the ten minute drive couldn’t be anymore longer), with the name ‘Haru’s Nook’ written in bright, pink neon letters right over the top with a cute little sign that said, “couples welcome’.

Haru, the owner, welcome you both with a bright toothy smile and a wave of her hand, like you have just walked into the most holy place in the world and not a store full of shelves upon shelves of dildos in clear boxes and half-naked mannequins with their tits wrapped up in buckles and straps and sexy red lingerie.

You find yourself whisked off into some aisle with Haru, leaving Waka, poor man, to walkabout by himself. You having said something about bondage, Haru hurries you off into a far back corner, right next to one of those mannequins you can’t help but gawk at, to show you her collection of different types of handcuffs and bondage tools.

“You have anything really strong ?” you wonder aloud, bend over to take one end of a pair of handcuffs between your fingers and slipping it off the shelf with a tug.

“Oh, for the big guy?”

You laugh, and nod your head. “Yes, for the big guy. But for me, too.”

Haru takes her time looking over the displays and grabs a black packaged box in her hands, showing you two pairs of leather handcuffs inside. “These are strong,” she says, “Just connect it to something like your bed frame and you’ll be fine.”

You put back the handcuffs you took off the wall, and take the box in your hands. “I’ll be sure to take you word for it,” you laugh again, before looking around. “But I do have a few other thing’s I’d like to get, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure you want this?” Waka asks, plays with the cuffs in his hands, massages the material under his fingers— smooth black leather.

“Toshi, baby, why else would I ask you to do this?”

He looks at you with those pretty olive eyes and shrugs his shoulders.

“Honey,” you sit up on your elbows, upper half of your body completely naked, and take his face between your fingers and squish his cheeks together, even when he gives you a funny little look, “You know I trust you. Just let go for me, I know you can, you did it the other night.”

“And I didn’t hurt you?”

“Not at all,” you reassure him, before leaning back and relaxing into the sheets, lifting your hands up into the air. “Will you?”

He looks between your hands and the cuffs, crawling up over your body and wraps them around your wrists before connecting them to the bed frame.

You experimentally tug on the restraints, leather biting into your skin at the strength of your pull, but otherwise not budging.

“Color?” he asks as he pulls his shirt over his head, messing up his hair.

“Green,” you say into the air, holy, you already feel breathless and you haven’t even done anything yet.

He momentarily slips off the bed and pushes his sweatpants down his legs— damned grey sweatpants, and kicks them off to throw them down next to the bed. “You want this, honey?” he mumbles.

“Yes.” you spread open you legs, still wearing your jeans you put on this afternoon, and sway your hips in the way you know will get a reaction out of him, and it does, because he grabs your legs with his hands; nearly completely enveloping the entirety of you knees, and pushes them against the bed— dragging up, slowly, making your eyes go a little blurry.

He stops when he reaches the top of your jeans, undoes the button and grabs the zipper between his fingers before bringing it down and peeling your jeans over your legs and leaving them to fall to the floor behind him.

He dips his body down, eyes never leaving yours— fuck, the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the single most delicious thing he’s ever seen makes your legs wobble. His hands shift until they’re underneath your thighs, pulls them up over his shoulders and settles down on the bed, face right in front of your clothed pussy. His breath is hot, especially over the fabric of your underwear, and you know there’s probably a big wet spot, but fuck, you can’t even bring it in yourself to care.

“So wet,” Toshi huffs, “Just for me.”

You push your head deeper into the pillows.

There’s a loud sound, and a flare up of pain on your left thigh— not the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, not too rough, in all honesty, but definitely enough to get your attention. Did Wakatoshi just slap you?

“Just for me, right?” he repeats himself.

“Yes, just for you, Toshi.” you nod your head quickly, letting out fast little breaths of anticipation.

Wakatoshi hums in confirmation and moves one of his hands over your tummy, and taking the other to move your panties over to the side, the warm air of your bedroom meeting your skin.

“So pretty,” he says lovingly, “And all for me, only for me to see, right?”

You try to lift your hips up into the air, try to press your pussy to his mouth, but his hand is firm on your stomach and keeps you down— “Yes,” you hiss. “Fuck, all for you.”

There’s another bloom of pain on your left thigh again, but it’s harder this time and you let out a squeak of surprise.

“Dirty, dirty,” he says in a mocking voice, “Such a dirty mouth, baby.”

“Toshi,” you give him a little warning— and you know you shouldn’t, know that he’s the one in charge right now— but fuck, fuck, you can’t help it. “I’m—“

You can’t even begin to form your sentence because Waka’s already delving right into eating you out, tongue lapping against you like a starved man.

Yelping, you try to thrust your hips up against his face again, but he stops you— when you try to reach down to pull his damned hand away, you’re met with the resistance of the cuffs against your wrists.

He groans against you, gods, the vibrations feel so good, his tongue feels so good, so feral against you, you can’t help but moan out your pleasure.

Toshi shoves his face deeper into you, nose rubbing against your clit, making the most filthiest, sloppiest sounds. He’s growling, breathing hard every time he pulls back before going right back into it, every time staying there even longer than the last, forcing himself back only when he needs breath.

You feel yourself about to cum— relish in the way your legs begin to shake and your moans become more breathy and right as you near that edge, right as you’re about to fall over, he pulls away, stops you from reaching your high, and you grunt out in total frustration.

“No!” you yell out, angrily, hands thrashing against the handcuffs. “Toshi!”

There’s another slap against your skin, but this time, you have to take a moment to register it’s on your face instead of your thigh; it burns so good, feels so painfully amazing, you whimper at the feeling of it.

“Color?” Toshi asks, and he’s smoothing the skin over with his hand, gentle as he sweeps a stray hair behind your ear, eyes soft as he looks down at you, frazzled, really. Like he’s scared he hurt you too much.

“Green.” you gasp.

He nods, sits up onto his thighs and then brings his hands down to your underwear, slips a long finger under the waistband and finally slides them off your legs.

“You’re one bad girl, you know that?” he scolds. “Naughty whore.”

You shudder and nod along with him.

He leans down again, this time he’s hovering over your chest, hands on either side of your head and he takes your right nipple into his mouth— you sigh, straining against the cuffs, wanting to touch him, to stroke his head, but you can’t and gods does that make you so annoyed; you’ve never noticed exactly how much you touch Wakatoshi before, now that you’re unable to.

He swirls his tongue around the sensitive skin of your nipple, then bites down and pulls it back in between his teeth.

You whine, back arching up to meet his lips, keening at the pain.

Toshi continues that like that for a good few minutes, continues his treacherous bites and licks on your nipple before giving it a final suck and moving over to give the same amount of attention to the other one. You’re only left to pant at the pleasure of it all.

When he’s done, he pulls off with a obscene pop, and meets your eyes, so fucking dark and full of all-devouring lust.

“You wanna get fucked, whore?” he smirks, that damn fucking smirk, you can only give him a look of surprise as he slaps you on the thigh again— getting a good feeling that it’s starting to turn red. “Hm?”

“Yes, please.” you beg. “Please, Waka, fuck me so good, fuck!”

He chuckles under his breath, massages the place where his hand slapped your skin.

You watch as he stands up from the bed, makes such a fucking show of taking off his boxers— teasing little fucker— until he finally has his cock out, red and wanting at the tip, a thick bead of pre right at the top; so fucking pretty.

When he starts jerking himself off, right in front of you, you jump up forward and whine at the handcuffs keeping you to the bed; kick your legs out like a child having a temper tantrum, wanting so desperately to touch him, to be the one to jerk him off, to make him feel good. He knows you want him, knows to moan in just the right way to get you riled up.

“Toshi.”

He only moves his hand faster, lets out the best, grittiest groans he can possibly let out as he gets himself off, throws his head back.

“Wakatoshi,” you demand. “Please!”

“You want this cock?” he asks, still stroking his dick, stopping his hand at his tip to play with his slit, gods, he’s the sexiest thing in the world, want to fuck him so bad, but you can’t because of these damn handcuffs. “You want me to fuck you, honey? Beg for me.”

You know he’s not gonna fuck you any other way, so you throw your pride away, despite a part of you protesting. “Please!” you yell, to hell with everything. “Please, please, god, fuck, just stop! Fuck me! Fuck me.”

That doesn’t seem to do it for him because he’s still pumping himself, still moaning to the pleasure of his own hand and you swear you can feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes, hate that he’s going to cum while you’re here left out to hang high and dry, wishing you were being fucked, wishing he was using his dick to pound you raw.

“Please!” you try again, screwing your eyes closed, hips thrusting up into nothing. “Please, please, please, Wakatoshi! Want you so bad, want you so, so, so bad, baby. Honey. Honey!”

You mewl in relief when the bed dips and his hands are grabbing your waist, moving down to your thighs, pulling them around his waist but you keep your eyes shut, far too embarrassed to open them and look at him. He’s grabbing your face in one of his hands, fingers digging into the hollow of your cheeks.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head.

He presses in a little bit deeper with his fingers until it starts becoming painful.

“Please,” you choke out, not completely sure what you’re even begging for, almost too scared to say anything more, you can’t trust yourself to say anything, can’t trust yourself enough to say something that even remotely makes an ounce of sense.

He pulls his hand away and you’re thankful. Happy, really. Hoping that Toshi backed off, but the small moment of relief you feel is quickly knocked out from under you as his hand reels back, hard, and hits you square on the cheek with a blunt sound that makes your head spin and your eyes jerk open.

“Was that so hard?” he demands, “Can’t listen?”

You swallow, mouth gaped open like a fish just out of water.

He gives you a challenging look, like he’d slap you again and a good portion of you wants him to, but the drive you feel inside of you to get fucked is far too strong, so, you obey.

“I can.” you squeal out, fast. “I’ll listen, I promise.”

Wakatoshi nods his head, gently strokes the cheek he had slapped just moments before and gives you a sweet little smile then grabs his cock in his hand, pumps it once, twice, three times, before guiding it toward your hole. He presses the tip in, just a little bit, before pulling it back out and repeating the process over, you, left leaking and wanting, trembles against the handcuffs.

“Please,” you sigh. “Want it.”

He groans under his breath, plays with you a little more, until he too seems to get tired of it and he shoves the entirety of his cock inside of you, watching you whine and choke and move against the pillows in the most desperate way, painfully tight around his dick.

When he starts thrusting, he moves a hand up to grope at your boob and the other to wrap around your throat, not choking you, just laying on top of the skin. The sounds are so lewd, the wet slap of his balls hitting your ass in those rough, piston-type movements, bed frame swaying with the force of your bodies and your broken, gargled moans accompanied by his beautiful, breathy grunting.

You can’t help but stare up at him like this and to him, you probably look so out of it, probably mistakes your darting eyes as a side affect of being fucked out your mind, but you’re looking at him, really looking at him. His eyes, his nose, his lips and back up again. The way his mouth falls open in a silent kind of scream when he goes faster, pounds you deeper into the bed, the way his hair’s swept down against his forehead with his sweat.

“Yes,” he moans, moving both of his hands down to your hips and humping up into you. “My sweet little naughty honey, fuck!”

There’s a sweet lazy smile on your lips at that, and you let out a slurred, “Yes! I’m your sweet little honey, baby.”

Wakatoshi gasps, hunches over your body and shoves his face into your neck, groans and growls falling and twittering into half-whines.

“Cum,” he forces out, and it goes up an octave at the end, nuzzles deeper into your skin. “Cum with me.”

“Gonna…” you lazily respond back to him.

“I know, honey.” he tries to catch his breath, pants out in hot puffs. “Cum. Cum now. Cum with me.”

You nod your head and with a couple more thrusts from Toshi, rough and snapping against your hips, you both cum together. It’s hot and blinding, but so fucking full of love and adoration as the two of you scream out a strangled ‘I love you’ half way through your orgasms, feel him let out thick, white spurts of cum inside you, shaking and twitching out the rest of your wave.

He pulls out and lifts up his head when you’re both done orgasming, captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, reaches up to undo your restraints, hands falling limply against the bed. Then he’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, completely and utterly undone by his hand, and in a sense, he’s undone, too. Just far more composed than you are.

Wakatoshi lays next to you, eyes peacefully closed shut and mouth in a smile, you can’t help but smile, too.

“I really liked that.” you say eventually, rubbing your legs together. “Thank you, baby. Did you like it, too?”

He nods and tilts his head to face you, opens his eyes. “I did.” his eyes become dark, “Did I hurt you?”

“Nope,” you reply, popping the ‘p’ and turning over to lay on your side bring your hands to touch his chest. “Gonna take a lot more to break me, don’t worry.”

“Crazy.” he teases.

“Yeahhh,” you hum, “That’s me.”

Both of you take a moment to yourselves, stare at each other. Not talking, not moving, just taking in each other’s presence, and it’s so soft, so wholesome.

“You know, you’re one big man. I mean, really,” you joke, “It’s like you get bigger everyday, how is that even possible? Thick. I mean,” you scrunch up your face, “Thick.”

He shakes his head, presses his face into the sheets and laughs, muttering out a quiet and muffled, ‘annoying’.

You chuckle, playfully slap his arm, roll onto your back and sigh. “Okay, let’s get cleaned up.”

Wakatoshi makes a noise, lifts himself up and makes his way to the bathroom with a quick, “I’ll get it.” and comes back with a warm wet rag from the restroom closet, opens your legs with gentle hands and starts wiping you both clean. When he’s done, he throws the rag into the dirty laundry basket, and you get situated under the sheets, tuck it over to the point where it’s almost covering your face, wait until Toshi gets into bed next to you and hugs you close.

“Love you, Toshi baby.”

You feel him nod against you, “I love you, too.”

There’s a beat of silence. “…I’m kinda thirsty.”

He freezes against you, lets out a harsh breath against your skin.

“Would love it if my big, hunky man got me a bottle from the fridge,” you slur sleepily.

Wakatoshi grunts, mumbles a ‘fine’ and gets up from his place on the bed to make his way to the kitchen, footsteps fading as he got farther and farther away. You nuzzle into the warmth of your blankets and close your eyes.

When Toshi returns, you’re already fast asleep, so he gives you a kiss on your head, puts the water bottle on the nightstand for tomorrow morning because he knows that you’ll eventually need it.

Wakatoshi falls asleep with you warm in his arms.

by vivak

general warnings: smut. face fucking, some masturbation, dirty talk!

interested in reading it on ao3? check it out here! i’d appreciate any kudos and comments! <3

chapters: ch. one, ch. two, ch. three, ch. four

chapter three: eyes wide open (face-fucking)

Very early on, you two decide to split up your ‘explorations’ with one-day wait periods. Sure, you’d do anything to fuck Wakatoshi every night, but from a real, logical point of view you both figure it’ll wear you both down quick. While you have no doubt in your mind Waka would fuck you straight into oblivion everyday if you just as simply asked, you want your new experiences with each other to be something not so muddled together, not just thrown together in a mess of lust filled drive. Something that pushes your relationship even further. To build off your sexual trust.

The process should be slow and methodical; but in all seriousness, you all but pulled a long list of things you want to try out of your ass while you were on lunch break at work. All scribbled down and messy with a red ballpoint pen. You run it by Waka during dinner that very same night, cross-checking to make sure he’d be interested in every single one.

Tonight, second on the list, Face Fucking.

You’re waiting on the couch, you had just gotten off work about forty minutes prior, changed into a comfy pair of pajamas and turned on a show that you weren’t taking the time to pay attention to.

A quick look at the clock beside the TV tells that it’s almost eight and Wakatoshi will be home soon.

Tonight, you decide you’ll give Toshi most of the control. Think it’s a good idea to flip back and forth between the two of you. You know how Wakatoshi sometimes wants to take control, but stops himself. Always worried of hurting you, always so scared to go too far. You want to push him a little bit; push yourself, want him to use you for his own personal pleasure.

When the door opens and reveals a very hunched over, tired Wakatoshi, you can’t stop the little look of surprise as he walks into the living room with heavy steps. He discards his work bag right next to the front door, not even moving to put it on it’s usual spot on the dining table chair and begins to slip off his shoes.

You frown, “You okay, love?”

He nods his head, pushes his fingers to ruffle up his hair, and turns to walk to you on the couch. Your arms are already outstretched, fingers curling and uncurling in a sort of come hither motion, inviting him in for a nice, long embrace together. Right when he’s in reach, you wrap your arms around his waist, the only thing you can grab from your place on the couch, and bring him to sit down next to you.

Kicking the blanket out with your legs, you toss it over his lap and cuddle closer to him.

“Missed you.” he rumbles.

“My big baby,” you joke. “I’ve just seen you this morning, but I missed you too, honey.”

He lets out a deep sigh and lays his head over yours. So content, so loved in your arms. So happy about the small little circles you rub into his lower back.

You both sit there, silent in each other’s embrace. At some point, you even watch as his eyes nearly drift shut, just to rest for a moment, before jerking open again. Wakatoshi lifts his pretty, tired face, looks down at you with soft eyes. Eyes always so soft when he looks at you. Just you.

Carefully, you say: “Want to let off some steam?” This is your way of asking him if he wants to carry on with tonight, to ask if he’s not too tired or too spent from work; this is his out.

His eyes squint, just slightly, like he’s thinking it over. Finally, he nods, “I’d like that a lot, honey.”

You lift the blanket off your bodies and quickly slide to hover his knees on the couch, looking up straight into his eyes as you put a hand on either one and push them apart. Wakatoshi leans further back into the cushions and let’s out a deep sigh.

He’s still wearing his business attire, even his blazer, and it looks uncomfortable. “Take off your clothes, baby. Want you to enjoy this.”

Toshi grunts in frustration, leans forward to shrug his shoulders until his blazer falls down his arms and proceeds to undo his button up. Right when he gets it off, he moves to tug off his tie, but you stop him mid-way. “You think you can keep that on?” you smirk.

He blinks, gods, he looks so tired. Then he nods.

You slide your hands up his thighs, feel his muscles tense and move under your fingers and his slacks, unbuckle his belt and tug it off in a fast, fluid movement before leaving it to lay somewhere on the floor. His dick’s already so hard against his pants, lets a tiny gasp out when your fingers just ever so slightly brush over the top. Unbuttoning his pants, you don’t even have to ask Waka to lift his hips into the air, because once you put a finger under the waistband he’s already doing it, cants his hips up for you to drag them down his legs and leaving them to drop at his ankles for him to kick off.

“You want this, Honey?”

He nods his head against the cushions, already breathless, “Yes. Want it so bad.”

His cock’s pressing against his boxers, a small wet patch right at the head, so fucking big and ready. In your horny haze, you pull them down, marveling at the sight of it. You’ve seen it a million times over, but god, you’ll never get enough of how pretty it is. It takes so much of your energy to not jump up and ride him til’ he’s breaking, but this is about him. This is his chance to let out his frustrations, his tiredness.

Wakatoshi humps up into the air, wants your mouth so badly, but you want to take it slow— just for now.

“Touch yourself for me, baby.” you whisper.

He groans. “I want you, honey. Want that pretty mouth.”

“I know,” you say. “But do it, baby. Do it then I’ll suck you off.”

He nods, fists his hand around his cock and moans at the feeling of it; but it’s not enough— not nearly as good as your mouth. But he needs something, anything to relieve himself, so he moves his hand up and down, fucks up into the warmth of his own fingertips. The sound alone makes you wet, makes you feel like you’re gonna die from the lewdness of it all. The squelch of his pre spreading across the skin of his dick and his hand, his quiet whimpers. The speed of his hand picks up, determined to reach his high, hand clenched so tight around his cock his knuckles are white— and he’s whining, uses his other hand to fondle his balls, whole entire body shaking.

You can tell he’s about to cum when he starts breathing heavy, muscles on his stomach start tensing, so you grab his hand mid stroke, and good lord, he lets out the most beautiful cry, thighs instinctively moving to shut closed, but you use your shoulder and other hand to keep them open.

“Fuck,” he growls. “I need it. Fucking god, I need it.”

“I know, my dirty boy, I know.”

He sighs dreamily.

“You wanna come?”

“Yes,” he grunts, brings his hips up into the air, looks down at you to beg for you to suck him off with his eyes. “Honey. Need you.”

“You gonna fuck my throat?” you hum, moving his hands, that were still on his cock, away to lay flat on the couch. “Wanna fuck this pretty mouth?”

“God,” he grunts. “So lewd. You’re so fucking lewd.”

“Love when you talk dirty, Waka.” you grab the bottom of his dick, “Wanna talk dirty to me, baby? I love it when you lose control.”

His mouth gapes open in pleasure, chest moving up and down in frantic movements.

“Come on,” you stroke his cock slow. “Treat me like your slut, Toshi. Treat me like a whore.”

He grimaces for a second, looks like he’s in pain, so conflicted. You notice how much he doesn’t want to treat you that way, how he doesn’t want to run off that cliff and insult you, even if it’s during sex.

“Hey, hey,” you catch his attention. “Color, baby? You want this right?”

Waka nods, clears his throat, “Green, fuck, green. Yes. Just—“

“Let go,” you urge. “Roughen me up a little. I want it, I promise.”

He nods, then moves his hand, the one he was fucking his cock with, into your hair and closes it into a tight fist. “Suck my cock. Know you want it, naughty fucking girl.”

Shuddering in absolute delight, you let him guide your mouth to his cock and presses you down to push the head of it into your mouth. He lets out a loud groan, throwing his hips up into the warmth of your mouth and you choke on it, the entirety of his dick shoved far into the back of your throat; you let out a disgusting gag— and he immediately brings his hips down, eyes wide. “Shit, honey, tell me if you’re—“

Shaking your head, you take a deep breath through your nose and bring yourself to completely deep throat him, loving the way he moans, face dipping into the hair at the base of his cock.

Wakatoshi’s fingers tighten further around your hair, begins bobbing your head up and down over his dick, quivering at the sound of you choking over the thickness of his entire length. “Shit, honey. So fucking good, so fucking sexy.”

Humming, he almost doubles over at the feeling of the vibrations, dick flying up as he fucks himself deeper into your throat— “Take it, fuck, fucking take it. So fucking naughty,” he grunts, loud. “You love my cock, baby? You want my cock down your fucking throat?”

You moan, legs twitching, thighs shaking at the need for some fucking friction, so you bring your hand to slip under your pajama shorts, under your underwear, and dip a finger into the wetness pooling at your pussy.

When you feel like you’re about to pass out, he rips your head away from his dick, a long, thick glob of saliva and pre-cum connecting the head of his cock to your lips— the back of your head stinging at the force he used to yank you back. Panting, you whimper out as your finger brushes against your clit, shaking in anticipation.

You must look so fucked out, because Toshi can’t help but moan out at the sight of you.

“No fucking idea how sexy you are, honey.” he brushes his other hand against your cheeks, plays with your bottom lip with his thumb, gasps when you eagerly take it into your mouth and suck on it.

“Fuck, fuck. Love you so much,” he sighs, waits til’ you catch your breath to lead you back to his cock, shoves you down on it again, hits the back of your throat and bobs your head— only this time, he’s rougher with it— desperate for his own release. “Please, fuck, baby. My naughty fucking honey.”

He gathers your hair together into a ponytail, twirls it into a make shift bun around his fingers and really begins fucking into your mouth, the harsh, wet slap of his balls hitting your face as your drool and spit fall out of your mouth and slide obscenely down his cock. He moans so loud, throws his head back against the couch, legs twitch and tense, wanting so badly to close, but he doesn’t want to crush you, so he forces them open.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, and it’s so fucking feral. So gritty. So beyond anything you’ve heard from him. “Sucking that cock, sucking my dick like a fucking whore, fuck.”

He tips his head down, forces your head up just to look him straight into his eyes— and god, Jesus god, you’ve seen him look exactly like this when he was in an intense game of volleyball. You know now, this is how people feel when Wakatoshi’s playing on the opposing team; finally understand why people are so terrifyingly intimidated by him— his eyes, so fucking dark, so demanding it hurts. He looks positively evil. It makes you so turned on, you can feel it dripping and wetting your panties, you slip two fingers inside, start thrusting up into yourself knuckle deep.

“Gonna cum,” he warns. “Fuck, fucking whore. My beautiful fucking whore. Gonna cum. And you’re gonna fucking enjoy it, won’t you? Want my cum so fucking far down your throat, oh, fuck yes you do.”

With the way he’s talking, you won’t be able to last long.

His cock throbs in your mouth— so fucking lewd, so fucking amazing; and the friction of your fingers against your clit feels so amazing, you’re gonna—

“Baby, cumming,” he groans, so fucking loud. “Cum, fuck, cumming— I’m gonna fucking—“

You move your tongue over his slit, hollow out your cheeks and suck as hard as you possibly can.

“Cumming!” he shouts, slams his cock up into your mouth, and explodes. His eyes shut closed, flings his head back, arches his back off the couch. Your met with the warm jets of cum hitting the back of your throat, swallowing them down as soon as they hit your tongue, not wanting to miss a single drop, not wanting to waste anything.

Continuing to fingerfuck yourself, you keep on bobbing up and down, even after his hand falls from your head and he begs, tells you he’s too sensitive, and after a couple more deep thrusts, you fall into oblivion. Moaning around his cock, he whimpers at the mere feeling of it, cock softening against your tongue; until you finally, finally let him fall out your mouth.

Wakatoshi’s staring straight up into the ceiling, mouth hung open in a deep intake of breath. You pant, lift yourself up by his thighs, pull up his boxers when he lifts his hips and lean over to take his lips in a nice, soft kiss, so gentle in comparison to your shenanigans seconds before. You sigh into his mouth, pull back, and settle your face into his neck.

“Good job, baby.” you push back his hair, “You’re so good to me, Wakatoshi. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you,” he returns, grabs your face between his hands and strokes the stray hairs out of your face, tucking them behind your ears. Eyes soft, just as normal. “Was I too rough? Honey, please tell me if I was too rough.”

“No,” you giggle, “No, Waka. Not at all. I loved it, I loved it so much.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, watching as you bring your fingers down to tug at his tie until it falls loose.

“Looked really sexy with only a tie on, you know.”

He quirks up a eyebrow, “Oh, really?”

You hum, and laugh. “Yeah, really. Gods, how’d I get so lucky, huh?”

He shakes his head, presses a soft kiss to your temple. “I should be asking that, honey. Don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Jokingly flinging your hair over your shoulder, you shrug. “Well, I am all that.”

He chuckles, leans forward on the couch and brings you close to his body before muttering out a quiet, “Tired.”

Nodding your head, you bring your fingers into his hair and massage the nape of his neck. “Wanna race there?”

He laughs again, but this time’s it’s a little more forceful. “I do not think you’re in the best shape to race there.”

“Me?” you ask, disbelieving. “I’m not the one who screamed all about how I was gonna cum.”

“Oh, shush.” he stands and wraps your legs around his waist, beginning to walk toward the bedroom.

He sets you down on your side of the bed, tugging on the bed sheets until you move your legs up just enough for him to tuck it over you. Toshi rounds the bed and lays down on his side, pulling you closer until you’re face to face with each other.

You sigh in content and let your eyes close.

A long five minutes pass by. “I love you, honey.” he says, and it’s so full of admiration, and love, and happiness. It pulls at your heart strings.

“I love you too, Wakatoshi. My Wakatoshi.”

He embraces you into a tight, warm hug. Rests his head on top of yours.

And together, you fall asleep in total bliss. You’ll be sure to deal with his clothes sitting in the living room tomorrow.

by vivak

general warnings: smut! ;), overstimulation, a little desperate/subby wakatoshi.

interested in reading it on ao3? check it out here! i’d appreciate any kudos and comments! <3

chapters: ch. one, ch. two, ch. three, ch. four

enjoy the ushi-gushy madness!

chapter two: jumpstarter (overstim)

It’s no secret Wakatoshi shows a totally different side of himself to you. Especially compared to how we acts around his team and basically every one else, you’d never think Toshi would have it in him to be as soft and caring as he is with you. You’ve seen it all; his anger, his sadness, his love. And through it all, you’ve been there. Just like he’s always been there for you. And now, with giddy excitement, you can be with him as you two go on a large, intensely pleasurable field trip. Metaphorically speaking.

You talked to him the next morning in bed, hugging him close to your chest and nuzzling into his neck from behind, breathing him in.

“We need to set some rules,” you said. “It’s really important to be safe, more than anything.”

You’re quick to spot the worry in Toshi’s eyes, even from where you laid behind him. Never would he ever want to hurt you on purpose. Never in the world would he want you to need to use a means to tell him to stop, especially during sex— It’s the complete fear of what his strength could do to you. He knows very well what’s he’s capable of. You do, too, but you want this, he realizes. You want him to let go, to snap, to use his strength, to go rough. To do something a little different.

You kissed the skin right below his ear, sling a leg around his waist and smile: reassurance.

“You want this right?”

He nodded his head, but it’s reluctant and slow. “I do.”

“Because we don’t need to do certain things if you don’t want to. I know you don’t particularly like using your strength on me.”

“I want to try new things,” he pressed. “I think it’d be good. For both of us. You know how I feel about being rough with you, but I know that a little experimentation doesn’t hurt. What things do you have in mind?”

In short, you explained safe words. Wakatoshi wasn’t a complete stranger to those— he had told you to use one whenever you two had sex when you first met, scared to accidentally go too hard or push too rough. You said yes at the time, telling him you’d say ‘Adler’ whenever you felt like he was on the verge of walking that fine line of pleasure and pain. You never had to use it though— he was always so careful to make sure you didn’t use it.

But this time, you want to amp it up. “Red, Yellow, Green.” you say.

“Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down, green is for go.” you mused, “When we get into this, I want us to be prepared. We can use those whenever we feel like we need to take it slower or stop completely. Just for future reference.”

Toshi turned over to face you, your leg hiking up his hip until it settled on his waist again. “Better safe than sorry?”

You nodded your head.

His eyes look so intensely into yours, brooding. “Tonight?”

You hummed, “Yep.”

Toshi got up. Had to get going to work, sadly, but you do enjoy the show as he pulled his shirt over his head and methodically changed into a white dress down shirt and slides the fitted black slacks— so painfully tight around his thighs— over his ass. You almost wonder what his co-workers think of him— probably thought he was a total hunk. Who wouldn’t? If you didn’t know any better, you’d probably be jealous.

He gave you kiss on the lips and pulled away, you hate it, hate how the warmth of his body on the bed cools, how the feeling of lips fades away to nothing, but you waved him off with a happy smile and a wish of a good-day then waited until you hear the click of the front door and the lock twisting.

The day goes by uneventful— you clean up the little messes that are around the house, watch a little stream service on the TV, nothing all that interesting; your mind always occupied with the single thought of what’s to happen tonight. You hope that overstimulation can help ease the both of you into this little plan of yours, something new, but not scary; something balanced. Not too intense to make Wakatoshi opposed to it, but something that can just feel good. For both of you. Around a quarter to eight-o’clock, you stand at the foot of your bed, a black set of lingerie thrown on.

You think, maybe— what if it’s a little too much for him? — Good lord, you’ve never felt this nervous. Lingerie was nothing you’ve ever really done for Toshi. Sure, maybe at some point you’d consider it sexy and empowering, give a little oomph in bed; but you never felt the need to wear anything more than your every-day, casual bra and underwear set with him. Wakatoshi loves your body either way, that much was sure. But this is for him, to show him that this is something new, that you’re putting effort into this.

When you hear the jingle of his keys in the lock, you tug an oversized shirt over your head and walk to the living room, completely abandoning your bottoms, and stand directly in front of the door to welcome him back home.

His work bag is hanging from his arm, and gods does he look delicious, even after hours of work. Toshi’s hair is all messy, like he’s been brushing his fingers through it the entire day— and knowing him, he probably was.

“Heya, honey.” you grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Wakatoshi chuckles, “Hello, honey.”

“I have a little surprise for you,” you tease. “I’ve been waiting all day for tonight.”

The faintest look of embarrassment crosses his face. “Have you?”

You hum, moving to grab his work bag to set it on the kitchen chair while he tends to removing his shoes and shrugging off his blazer— tight fucking arms, tight fucking ass. “I sure have,” and you turn, reach out to grab his hand and pull him close; just close enough to almost come chest to chest. “Have you?”

He shakes his head yes.

“Good,” you whisper, “I have a feeling we’ll love tonight, then.”

Your fingers gradually move up his arms and to his chest; soft, fleeting touches that leave his breath shuddering until you wrap a firm hand around the tie hanging from his neck. Wakatoshi barely notices until you pull on the fabric hard, planting your lips against his.

In what it seems like a matter of just a few seconds, his hands come flying to your waist— blazer forgotten on the floor— and you move to make the kiss deeper, and it’s so hungry, so fueled by that insane amount of desire in you— by your want to make him completely unfold. He’s breathing hard through his nose, shallow, desperate breaths, so focused on keeping himself together.

His hands move down to your thighs, skin of his fingers all calloused and rough, then lifts you up around his arms and presses either side of your legs against his waist. Locking your ankles together, you rest your arms comfortably over his shoulders and jerk your lips away, ignoring the way his mouth follows your movement to try and catch you again— cause you’re already at his ear, panting: “Bedroom.”

Wakatoshi grunts and walks you two toward the bedroom, kicking the half-open door and dropping you down on the bed, settling his knees to lay in between your thighs. You’re both breathing like crazy, his eyes so blown out with lust you can just barely see his pupils under the dim shade of the light from your night lamp.

You twirl his tie back around your fingers and pull him in for another searing, hot kiss. This time, he groans into your mouth, and fuck, it’s so fucking amazing to hear. Makes you so happy you’re making him feel good— so happy you’re able to make him feel even better. You tug at his shirt— so tight around his fucking arms— yank at the buttons at the front so hard he gets the message and pushes back, unbuttons the shirt himself— and god, it feels like ages until it’s finally totally undone, you can’t help it when you push it up and past his shoulders, down his arms; and throw it somewhere on the bedroom floor, totally abandoned in you two’s frenzy.

His hands grasp at the bottom edge of your shirt, pulls it over your head and lets out the most dangerous noise you’ve ever heard from him in your entire life— it’s so choked, like his brain just fizzed out and he’s about to pass out from not getting enough air.

In truth, you never thought you’d get this type of reaction to lingerie before. It’s simple— just a cute little lace up bra with a medium bow placed just in between the valley of your boobs, but it seems to do the trick as Toshi reels back, unfastens his slacks and slides them down his thighs— you worship his thighs — kicks it off and tosses it somewhere behind him. It almost makes you laugh, the idea of it all: you wearing lingerie and Wakatoshi nearly just losing his shit from it. You’re sure to make a mental note to buy more sets, next time.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs a shaky, trembling version of your name, “you’re so beautiful, honey.”

You smile, bringing your hips up to slowly meet the fabric of his boxers, still annoyingly on, and bask in the sound of him holding back a gasp, mouth open and agape so prettily. “Off, off, please.” you beg, and fuck, you don’t even care how early you’re begging into the game, you want this so badly nothing else matters.

Wakatoshi makes a sound in the back of his throat, fingers slipping under the waist-band of his underwear and slowly, way too slowly, drags them down his legs. Like he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make a complete mess of you.

You’ve always known he was big. It’s self-explanatory, one look at the rest of him and it’d be physically impossible for him not to be huge— and while it’s a great, all-so-amazing thing for you, it was probably one of the things Toshi was scared of when you two first fucked. His dick’s so big— so thick, gods, so incredibly thick, it always stretches you out in the best way imaginable.

In turn, he reaches behind you and undoes your bra, slipping the straps past your arms and leaving it to join the growing pile of clothes on your bedroom floor. He sighs at the view of your tits out, leaning over to carefully take one of your nipples into his mouth. Instantly, you card your fingers through his hair, closing your hand into a tight fist and relishing in the feeling of how his tongue moves against the sensitive skin— hollowing out his cheeks and sucking, you yelp, back arching and hips jumping against his cock, hard between his thighs.

He groans again, fiddling with the top of your panties and waits until you lift your hips up to take them off. Before he can continue any further, you hold yourself up onto your elbows and mewl out an embarrassing, “Let me ride you, Wakatoshi. Please, fuck, please let me get on top.”

Humming, he grabs a firm hold of your hips and turns both of you over until he’s on his back.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, Toshi.” you drawl, “You want this, honey? God, I want you so bad, baby. You want me?”

He nods.

“Come on, sweetheart. Please talk to me. Tell me how much you want me,” you whine. Fuck, you want to hear him. You want to know how much he wants you. You need it.

“Want you so bad,” he rasps, “Love you so much. Want this so, so bad. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this today.”

“You and me, sweetheart,” you laugh, finding your balance to sit up on his stomach, thighs firmly set on either side of his waist. “I love you too, baby. I need this, I need this so bad. I don’t think I can wait, baby.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, “I know. Just be careful, honey. I want you too, baby, I just don’t know If we prepared enough, don’t want to hurt—“

You drop open your mouth in a silent scream at the feeling of his cock filling you so entirely; so fucking big, such a big fucking stretch, you almost feel bad for not doing more foreplay, but fuck, his face is absolute paradise. The moment your hips meet his, he flings his head back into the pillows, mouth parting and eyes clenching down shut in a desperate way of keeping himself in check. He doesn’t let his sounds out— swallows it back down, keeps it deep in the back of his throat.

But you want to hear him, want to encourage him to make more noise, so you begin bouncing, lifting your ass into the air just far enough and then sliding back down, fast, until he finally begins to crumble, finally starts to let the side down. And he’s so pretty, sounds so pretty. His strangled gasps fill the room, and you’re almost convinced you should keep your moans in just to be able to hear him clearer.

“I love you, Toshi. I love you so fucking much, oh my fucking god,” you say, “We can cum together, baby. Please, let’s cum together.”

“Cum—“ Wakatoshi pants, “Yes, cum together. Together, baby. I want to feel good with you, want to make you feel so good.”

You pick up the pace despite how much it hurts your legs; jump up and down on his cock until the only thing he can let out are sad little grunts and moans. Toshi throws his hips up to meet your thrusts— breathing so hard you almost feel like he’s on the verge of death— and that’s how you know he’s close. So, with a smile, you encourage him.

“I know you’re close, baby.”

He groans.

“It’s okay, Waka. Cum with me, okay? Please, baby, want you so bad!” you wail, legs shaking and eyes blurry, “Cum, cum with me. Please, just cum with me—“

“I’m gonna,” he breathes out, “I love you, honey. I’m gonna…”

“I know,” you lean over to stroke his hair out his face, “Do it for me, baby.”

With a loud, half-moaned, half-choked grunt of your name, he cums.

Christ, he never disappoints. He’s still filling you full, even after almost thirty seconds after his orgasm, and fuck, it feels so good. He’s catching his breath, eyes fogged over and muscles tense under your fingertips, but you know this isn’t over. Maybe the thought of continuing left Wakatoshi’s mind the second he came, maybe the thought of overstimulation would simply make him break, but you can’t put into words how badly you want him to.

You lift your legs, not without strain, and slam down.

Of course you and Wakatoshi have gone multiple rounds before, but they’ve always been spread apart, meant to give you both time to gather yourselves before heading into it again. You know exactly how sensitive Toshi can be, especially after being rode to good heaven, so it’s no surprise to you when he lolls his head back again; a loud, destroyed moan on his tongue.

“Yes! Oh god, yes, I love you Waka.” you nearly shout, “Feel with me!”

Your clit buzzes every time you go down on him, still sensitive from your first orgasm— but watching Wakatoshi under you is more than you could ever ask for, seeing him unfurl is absolutely beautiful.

“So,” he breathes, hard. “So fucking sensitive— I don’t, I don’t think I— I’m, fuck!”

“You can take more, honey. I know you can,” you cry, “For me. For me, right?”

He nods, so determined to make you happy, to make you feel good.

You bring your lips to his neck, licking a hot wet stripe up the side, and you don’t even know how you’re holding yourself together, don’t have the slightest idea as to how you’re not shattering at just the mere sight of Wakatoshi breaking, but the string rounding in your stomach spins, twists; Suddenly, with a shout from both of you, you cum again. It’s so strong, racks through each of your bodies so hard you swear you see stars, swear you see galaxies explode behind Wakatoshi’s eyes.

You leave some time for him to catch his breath, let his chest even out some before holding his head between your hands. “Fuck me, Toshi. That’s all we need. I just want us to break, baby. Come on, you can do it, please.”

He groans, and it’s whiney, like he doesn’t have the means to get himself up and fuck you again, but by some miracle, he uses his strength, whatever that’s left of it, to tip you both over so he’s on top, dick still inside of you.

“Overstimulate us, baby.” you beg.

He shakes in response, pulls you in to his chest until his face is hidden in the crook of your neck, then, he snaps his hips back; moaning into your skin, then pushes back in. He repeats the movement, slow at first, until he starts to build it up into something faster, something more intense. His mouth is wide open, breath hot, lifting his head up far enough to whisper babble into your ear.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he says. “Gonna overstim you,” his voice breaks— “Gonna make you happy, honey. Make you… Just want to make you feel good.”

It’s something about the way he says it, the way he just sounds so wrecked. It ignites a whole new fire in the pit of your stomach; the want to see him break further, knowing he can go further, knowing you can, too.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur against his head, “Just—“

Wakatoshi speeds his thrusts up, and god, you try to hold back the scream, but it just comes out so broken and tattered, pussy so sensitive it almost hurts, the feeling of his cock every time it just ever so slightly brushes against your clit makes you wanna cry.

You hold onto the back of his head, stroke his hair and feel him shudder against you. It’s so fucking amazing.

Feeling it building again, you wrap your thighs around his waist, damn the shake of your legs and the feeling they might fall off— you press him closer, and with a quiet, whispered: “Cum.” both of you fall apart.

Wakatoshi is in bliss. Can tell by the way his eyes are clenched shut and his tongue is falling out his mouth. He keeps filling you up, so full you doubt you’ll ever be able to get it all out.

Never in your entire life would you imagine Toshi like this— and you want more.

He pulls back, cock sliding out and he’s gasping, a combination of both of your fluids dripping out of your pussy and onto the covers— you can tell the sensitivity is really getting to him now, but you press the heels of your feet into his ass, make him thrust back in with a rough jerk of your legs.

“Oh, oh fuck!” he yells, “Can’t. Please, god. Honey!”

You throw your head back into the pillows and cry at the feeling of him against you. Your voice is so gurgled, so thrown together you can barely recognize it as your own.

You howl, “Please, one. One. One more! Do it with me, baby. Please. Please.”

“Fuck,” he chokes on his own spit, “Honey, baby, I—“

“Just,” you have to breathe in, your lungs screaming for more air, “One. One, baby. One, Wakatoshi, more!”

Toshi’s legs shake as he tries to steady himself, starts resuming his thrusts— and every single time it feels like you’re being electrocuted; like a billion of tiny shocks focus in on just your pussy, it feels like too much, is too much, but you’d kill to see Wakatoshi like this, so no way in hell were you gonna stop so close to the finish line.

He muffles his moans into your neck, tries so hard to hide his sounds from you— fisting his hair, hand trembling and verging on numb, you tug his head back. His eyes are closed shut, mouth hung open in a large ‘O’. This is the most fucked out you’ve probably ever seen him, and oh my god, you love it so much.

“It’s okay.” you say, “Close, baby. Are you close?”

“Yes,” he chants.

“Cum for me, Toshi.” you growl, hips jerking up wildly, thighs twitching, body fucking breaking.

“Honey.”

“Cum for me, Wakatoshi.”

Saying his full name seems to do it for him, because the moment the words leave your mouth, he’s collapsing onto you, letting out the single most loudest moan he’s ever let out, knees pressed into the bed, cock so deep you can feel it in your stomach— and the amount of cum you feel inside you is tremendous; like you’re about to explode. He stares at you, eyes fuzzy and glossy. Thoroughly fucked, you let out a sigh of total relief as he finally pulls out of you, dick limp.

Toshi is quick to get off of you, hates that he put his entire body weight on you, and drops down to the empty space beside you.

He’s still catching his breath.

“I…” you start, until you decide it’s better to just leave it, that you’re not ready to form sentences and close your eyes.

After a good thirty-so minutes, you two still haven’t talked, so instead you turn over on your side, no matter the soreness in between your legs, and hug him close.

Toshi’s the first one to break the silence. “That… was amazing.”

Clearing your throat, you look up at him. “Was it really? Did you enjoy it?”

“I’ve never felt like that in my entire life.” He admits.

You laugh, tracing circles on his chest with your finger. “I’m glad.”

“What’s next?”

“Oh, whoa, tiger. Is someone looking forward to our next experiment?”

Wakatoshi rolls his eyes, leans over to kiss the top of your head. “What if I am?”

“Well, I have a few ideas in mind. We could do whatever interests you.”

“Anything that involves you interests me,” he points out.

“Oh, please,” you grunt as you sit up, wincing at the feeling. “Stop being cheesy.”

“It’s true,” he tries his best not to smile.

“We’ll talk about it when our bed sheets aren’t covered in us .”

He comes to be hyper aware of the dampness between him and the sheets, staring at you like you’ve grown another head. “That might be a good idea.”

“You think? Let’s wash up, sweetheart.”

“Together?”

“Wouldn’t want anything else.”

”Who’s being cheesy now?” he tilts his head.

“Jesus, you’re annoying. Up, up. Let’s go.”

by vivak

very unfamiliar with the whole tumblr format, but hopefully you’ll enjoy the fic! ;))

general warnings: not this particular chapter, but it’s smut smut smut!

interested in reading it on ao3? check it out here! i’d appreciate any kudos and comments! <3

chapters: ch. one, ch. two, ch. three, ch. four

chapter one: let’s get this show on the road

When you had first asked Ushijima if he’d overstimulate you; you were, both painfully and embarrassingly, in public. He had given you a shocked face, looked around to see if anyone had overheard and then said, with all the firmness and seriousness he could possibly muster together: “Talk about this at home.”

You’d be lying if you said the car ride home wasn’t awkward, but you were his fiancé, you’ve known him for years, know all of his little quirks and what makes his gears grind; so by no chance do you miss the way his knuckles turn white around the steering wheel.

Sex with Ushijima, as good as it felt, was vanilla. Not that you’re saying that’s a bad thing, of course. Wakatoshi saw sex as a means of connection; gentleness, a show of how much love you two had for each other. And you do love Toshi— more than anything, you love him, him and his wants, whether that be vanilla sex or not. But sometimes, you can’t help but think what he’d be able to do with you; those strong arms and broad shoulders and thick thighs built from hours at the gym could do so much to you. His strength, however, is something he kept purely to Volleyball— and to some extent, it bothered you.

So, you tried teasing. Small, at first. Just a pair of ‘fuck me eyes’ during an outing with his team, or, a gentle slap on his ass when he walked by in your shared apartment. You know, small, couple-y things. It wasn’t until about a week ago that you started to bring your A-game; brushing your hand ‘accidentally’ against his crotch and ushering back with a heated, fast response of, ‘sorry! didn’t mean to do that, sweetheart’.

It’s not like you two haven’t discussed pushing your sex life to new limits— every couple does that. Talks about what they can improve, what they need to dial down; what they need to add. And mind you, Wakatoshi is no saint. You don’t miss how sometimes he stares a little too intensely at your ass, licks his lips when you bend over to pick something up or how he clenches his fists together in some sort of way to hold himself back, and that’s just it: you don’t want him to hold back.

Fuck, you want him to let go.

He’s built to be a fucking machine, right? What other use could he possibly make of those thighs?

You say nothing as Wakatoshi wordlessly makes his way to the front door, unlocks it and heads inside. And honestly, this is probably the most scared you’ve ever been in this relationship, if you can even call it scared. Worried, maybe, would be a better use of word. Worried he’ll reject it; say that he’s comfortable exactly with how you sex life is, and that’s perfectly ok— In fact, you almost expect it. But the very last thing you want for the both of you is for things to suddenly be awkward because of your complete horniness getting in the way of things.

Toshi hangs his keys on the hook next to the door, kicks off his shoes and makes his way straight to the kitchen. He doesn’t feel like the one to talk first, that much you can tell, so, you do.

“You think we can talk, Toshi?”

He opens the fridge and grabs a cold water bottle, hums in confirmation, cracks open the cap and takes a long gulp— like he’s bracing himself.

“I did mean what I said at the mall, you know.” you say, slowly slipping off your shoes and throwing your winter jacket on the couch. “I think we should talk about it, don’t cha think?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and it’s drawn out— so unusually unlike him. “I do think we should talk about everything, about our feelings, about our,” he clears his throat, “…our sex life openly, it just surprised me you asked in public, honey.”

“I know,” you sigh, walking over to him in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, just wanted to make sure I got your attention.”

That makes Wakatoshi laugh. “You always have my attention, you know that, right?”

“I better,” you joke, nudging him on the shoulder and snatching the bottle from his hand— just as he was going to take another sip, and chugged down some. “Nobody else should have my man’s attention.”

He raises an eyebrow, a lazy smile on his face. “No one is worthy of it except you, trust me.”

“Uh-huh.” You shove the bottle back into his hand, still open, and start walking into the living room. “I love how open we are with each other. Which is why I want to talk about it more.”

Toshi nods his head, shows that he’s listening.

“So, I wanted to see if you wanted to try something new in the bedroom. You know, maybe shake things up a little bit. Like I said at the mall, we could try overstimulation, I’ve heard it’s nice. Or… maybe, if you’d even like, we could try other things, too.”

He’s leaned over the kitchen counter, hands clasped together, water bottle now gone; you assume he had thrown it out while you were talking. He looks conflicted, like there were millions of thoughts in his head, racing at a hundred miles per hour.

“Is it because I’m a little basic in bed?” he asks, point-blank.

Oh Lordy. “No,” you rush to say, “not at all. I love how you treat me in bed, you’re considerate and gentle and loving, it’s just there’s always room to add things and see what else we’d like, you know?”

He hums, “Okay,” — there’s the breakthrough, “Where would we start?”

“Overstimulation?”

Nodding, he leans further onto the counter, — “Okay, and from there?”

You give him a shocked look, he’s already trying to think ahead? “Well, I haven’t really given it much thought,” you say. “I could try topping one time—“

“Like riding?”

You laugh, “No, I mean like…” moving your hands around in weird little circles, “I could take control, you know? Like, maybe be in charge, not just on top, on top.”

He pushes himself off the counter and walks towards you, slow. “And when should we start?”

When he reaches you, you interlock your fingers and urge him to sway back and forth with you. “Doesn’t have to be today. We’re both tired. It’s good we brought it up, though. Maybe starting tomorrow? What you think about that?”

Toshi shuffles his weight from foot to foot, finally coming into a nice, gentle swing. “Tomorrow then.”

You smile, and let out a heavy breath. “I thought this was gonna go a totally different direction. I’m just so glad I can talk to you about these things. I love you, Toshi.”

He returns the smile, and gods, he’s so pretty. “You can always talk to me, no matter what. I always want you to be able to trust me enough to talk about things like this.“ he brings you close and kisses your forehead. “I love you, honey. So much.”

Pulling back, you flick him gently on the temple. “Ok, ok, Mr. Sentimental.” you tease, “Bed?”

“Oh, are we starting already?” he almost giggles at his own joke. Bastard.

“Oh, shut up. I mean Bed bed. Race you there?”

“You know I always win.”

“Yeah, but I always try.”

Needless to say, you can’t wait until tomorrow.