Kissing headcanon for SSR Ootengu please? :)
(I always have time to discuss Ootengu, this is a birdy husband loving home you hear me? -Weirdo)
SSR Ootengu is quiet, a reserved type of kisser. Aggressive argumentatively. Cuddle sessions last hours, even as they end, his stubborn wings huddle you, feathers puffed in a pout (His wings always give his emotions away, they are a part of him after all. So apparent), a silent plea for you to stay. His scent on no account fades, sticking to you like glue, your name like a prayer from his puckered crests. Once he finally opens his love in intimate gestures, he makes sure you are aware. His kisses aim to relax, to please. Short and sweet, calm and collected. As modest as he is honest, there isn't a day where Ootengu doesn't hope to feel his mouth grace one of the only people he generally trusts. Expect him to be fixated by them. He thinks about biting your lower lip (Or maybe your tongue?), splitting it, how you quiver when he does. Tasting sugary grapes and tart pears, he is almost playful. A few kisses pecked on a selected side of your face, your giggles are cherished, secured in his scarred heart. Music is a blessing; he can only dream his flute can capture yours. You assure him the music you make is reserved only for him, for his ears alone and nobody else's, his emotions flutter knowing he is so special to you.
The other neglected bits of you obviously need decorating too, he insists on fixing that. By the time he is done, none of you is untouched by his mouth. Marked. His kisses are written into your skin, forever carved with the curve of his mouth and starved bites. Preferably under the gaze of privacy, under the beautiful cover of night and away from unwanted wandering eyes. An owl who values silence and close personal time with his beloved, since he likes to take his time, he can sound tawdry. But buildups are his main steppingstones. Trails of kisses under the moonlight with shared loving whispers, unforgettable and passionate make out sessions. To Ootengu, nothing is more lovely than a beloved close, lit by the most incredible jewels in the world; sky-born and bright, perfect nightlights for naps. Stars never burn out; death just replaces them, creating a new source of light. His memories are his prized possessions, the smaller it is the more important, brighter. Eternity, he wants them to last. Each and every kiss he remembers like yesterday. He doesn't give kisses all the time like he wants, but he tries his best to live up to your affections, to feel like he is truly worthy of your love. Because, no matter how you look at it, his path is dark. He isn't worthy, this is a fact, but he can bear living in the illusion of being so. In a way, he supposes it is punishment.
