suna and reader goofing and being romantic all day with teenager akito in the first class seat to this spectacle then blurting out he has to have a gf like his mom.
i changed this just a lil PLS FORGIVE MEEEEE
-
the fruity juices stick to your fingers as you chop the sweet strawberries for your twins, akito sitting at the island behind you with his lips sipping through the lip of his cup and thumb scrolling on his phone.
you hum softly to yourself, no tune in particular, as the peacefulness of morning swirls around you and your son.
mornings usually are just you and akito, rintaro joining once he’s out of the shower, your three other children relishing in the last moments of sleep before your husband goes in to drag them out.
“what’s your practice schedule this week?” you ask over your shoulder.
“tuesday, wednesday, friday,” akito answers. “i think i can hitch a ride with osamu on wednesday, though.”
you chuckle, “i forget he’s on your team- i always think about uncle osamu when you say that.”
akito huffs a laugh, “uncle osamu can pick me up from practice, but he better bring me a bento.”
“now you sound like your dad-“
“what about it?” a new voice purrs. arms wrap around your waist and theatrically sway you back and forth. you can’t help but squeal, melting into the dramatic embrace and letting rintaro playfully manhandle you. sticky lips press to your neck, loud smooches from his mouth being pressed to the sensitive area under your ear that only he knows about. “rinnie!” you giggle, batting him away playfully. “i’m trying to make breakfast!”
his nose presses to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and he takes deep, noisy inhale against your skin. “i need my wifey fix. don’t interrupt me, or i’ll double it.”
“fine,” you titter.
behind you, akito says nothing, though you assume that he’s used it your displays of affection with your husband. you snicker, “akito is probably so grossed out.”
he hums in thought.
you and rintaro look over your shoulders to face him, blinking at him curiously.
“eh” he begins. “kinda just makes me excited for my future,” he says. “i watch dad live in your skin every day; i can’t wait to do that with my wife someday.”
tears swell in your waterline, lips curling into a wobbly smile as you lean your head back against rintaro. he squeezes you tighter, and you rest your nuzzle against his chest.
“that’s my boy,” rintaro hums, now pressing a kiss to your temple. “marrying your mom was the best decision i ever made… and i’ve begged the universe for you and your sisters to have the comfort to openly love whoever you marry as much as i love her.”
“disgusting,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest, officially letting your tears flow in a stream down your hot cheeks.
and you fully expected akito to share the same sentiment as you, groaning in agony at the way you and your husband babble in adoration for each other.
“actually chat, can i tell you something that’s been on my mind lately?”
immediately, the audience spams encouraging words to kenma, who sighs to gain his composure before pausing his game and turning his attention completely to his audience, who clearly waits with anticipation for their streamer.
"so... as you guys know, uh... my wife-who i love very, very much, by the way- is one of the funniest people i know; i think she is by far one of the most witty and quick people to crack a joke, there's never not a time i'm not wheezing in laughter over something she says... however-" he cuts himself off to chuckle nervously, licking his lips and trying to make this as well-worded as possible. "she started doing this thing... and-and-and, i really want to make it clear that i love, love, love my wife... and now there's a video going around of my lovely, amazing wife, uh... asking me a question... and people are curious about it."
some of the comments on kenma's stream are flurries of concern.
others are full fledged "LMAOOOO"'s and laughing emoji's.
"chat, this is serious, it's not funny," he scolds, although he tries to hold in his laughter himself. "my wife... my wonderful wife... has started doing this thing, where she's asking my permission to do things."
now, the entire comments are full of laughter.
"it's not funny!" he cackles. "it stresses me out! like, okay, the other day-"
kenma's fandom can listen to him talk about you for hours, because they're so used to it from him.
kenma talks about you like a figure of divinity, someone who can do no wrongs (and even if, per chance, you are wrong, no you're not), someone he looks to for comfort and joys and delights and love.
he loves you.
"- and IN FRONT of the CASHIER, she asked me if it was okay if she ordered fries! like, are you serious, you freak! i'd buy the whole damn mcdonald's for you! what're you on about, can you have fries, like what the hell, man!"
he turns more feverish as his rant continues, "like the other day, kuroo asked if she wanted to grab coffee tomorrow morning with him and his wife, and she looked at me and goes, 'am i allowed to do that?' like what the heck!"
he's laughing.
the whole chatroom is laughing.
down the hall, he hears you laughing.
further perpetuating the narrative that kozume kenma has the world's funniest wife.
thank you kuroosassscheeks for 1500 bits But you still technically did give her permission, kenma
"kuroo what are you talking about!" he groans. "she doesn't need my permission, my wife can do what she wants and i'll support her, just stop with the narrative that she needs permission to order a milk shake or if i can help her pay! please! my wife walks me like a dog, like-"
immediately interrupting his rant, kenma's phone buzzes to life, a faint 'pikachu!' text tone ringing in the air. his eyes scan his lock screen notifications, before his jaw slacks in betrayal.
"she just texted me.... asking if its okay if she comments... LIKE OF COURSE IT IS, STOP!!"
once again, the comments, his room, and his house erupt with laughter at your antics.
❥ itoshi rin is the biggest cock blocker when it comes to you and his brother. — part one / two
୨୧ ONE !
both of you are in the cinema watching some random, shitty movie so you could finally get some piece away from his family during your stay in japan.
he’s caressing your hair while you kiss his neck, hand palming his bulge in the secluded corner of the room. “wanna suck it”
“nasty woman” he snorts, tilting his head back, “you’ll settle for using just your hand, ‘kay?”
but all your plans are ruined when you feel someone sitting down next to you — sweetie rin. he has a bucket of popcorns, and you pull away from his older brother with a shy smile, “oh, hi rin”
he greets you back by offering you popcorns with a soft smile, but when rin approaches the bucket to sae, he’s smart enough to pull it away before his brother snaps. he’s a composed man, so he asks with his usual flat tone, even if you can hear a flicker of pure fury “what are you doing here?”
“mom bought me a ticket too. she says i need to go outside besides soccer” he shrugs, taking a sip of his drink with his straw like a little kid. you rest your hand on sae’s biceps soothingly, before smiling sweetly to rin, “sure!! come with us anytime you want”
oh, now sae is about to kill you, too.
୨୧ TWO !
your lips are glued to sae’s, giggling every now and then as he pulls you even closer on his lap. big hands cupping your asscheeks as you kiss during a loooong time, your own hands tugging at his hair when he playfully bites your lower lip.
“so fucking beautiful” he growls against your lips, making you giggle softly. a blush covers your cheeks, your heartbeat is quite accelerated and your lips ache for his.
“do you know when i look prettier?” you tease, and he snorts. sae’s hands roam all over your body, playing with the edge of your shirt. he’s devouring your lips again, tongue finding yours and making it submit to his. he’s already lifting your shirt when rin comes into sae’s bedroom with an arched eyebrow.
“what are you doing here?” “hi rin!” both of you speak up at the same time while you quickly pull away from his lap, the tones of your voices completely opposites.
“[name], i can hear you laughing from my room, but my brother isn’t funny, so i wanted to check if you were laughing at him to join you”
you have to suppress a laugh, both because his words and sae’s face. “it’s okay, rinnie. if anytime i’m laughing at him, i’ll let you know” you smile amused, and he nods, completely oblivious to everything.
“i swear he has a damn radar or something— and what did you call him?” sae speaks when his younger brother leaves, pinching the bridge of his nose.
୨୧ THREE !
you’re both in the pool, his hands on your hips as you hug his neck. he looks handsome with the slight tan of his skin and the tiny red burnt covering his cheeks.
“you look so beautiful with your bangs down, i swear to god” you giggle, peppering his face with kisses. “i look ridiculous, babe” he sighs, not that he actually minds being pampered by you. you huff, almost ofended, “you don’t!” then a smirk appears on your face, and he arches an eyebrow. “y’know.. kinda makes me wet. i really like your cutie bangs”
he snorts, “everything about me makes you wet. you should already know that”, before kissing you gently. the kiss quickly escalates, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth, your thighs surrounding his hips beneath the water, his hands cupping your asscheeks — which he’s been wanting to do since he saw you in that cute bikini.
then suddenly a huge flamingo floatie hits you both with captain rin on it. “oops, sorry. i still don’t know how to control it”
sae and his hard dick are about to kill him, throw the floatie to the ocean so it gets lost, but there you are with an amused smile despite your flushed cheeks and the heat pooling in your low stomach, “can i try?”
rin smiles softly and nods, “sure”. sae huffs, not letting your hips go “baby—“, but you silence him with a kiss. “i’ll make up for it later, okay? pinky promise”
i loooove this little series but i don’t think i have more ideas to how rin could cock block sae :(
❥ itoshi rin is the biggest cock blocker when it comes to you and his brother.
୨୧ ONE !
you’re making out with sae next to the lockers room after a game, praising him and giggling.
“sae, the journalist are asking for you” rin appears next to both of you, staring at your joined bodies with a flat expression. “hi, rin” you smile sweetly, and he blushes faintly, greeting you back.
sae huffs, “don’t you know that this isn’t a good moment?”. rin simply shrugs and his teal eyes look at you. “go with him, baby. see you later at home” you smile, kissing his cheek before pulling away. he nods reluctantly and squeezes your hip gently.
“she’s nice. have no clue what she’s doing with you” he says amused as both of them walk. sae glares at him, “shut up”
୨୧ TWO !
you love showering with sae, moans filling the room as he fucks you against the wall. he growls, fingers digging further into your hips when your pussy clenches around him.
until the hot water turns cold and a loud, “sae, leave already! it’s my turn” comes from out of the bathroom. your boyfriend looks like he’s about to kill someone as he helps you drying your shaking body with a towel. you sneeze and he huffs, “sorry, beautiful. next time we visit japan, we’re staying at the hotel”
“but your mother seemed excited about us staying over” you say, dressing up. he arches an eyebrow, his silence making you chuckle. “okay, maybe you’re right” you cup his face, but when you’re about to kiss him… “sae!” rin knocks the door loudly, and he finally opens, glaring at his brother on the door. “finally— oh”
“hi, rinnie” you smile, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. he swallows and greets you back with a soft smile, immediately erasing when sae whispers something about cockblocking and killing someone.
୨୧ THREE !
you’re watching a movie with sae, cuddling on the couch as he kisses your jaw. one arm is thrown over your shoulders, keeping you close, and the other traces your inner thighs.
“baby, we’re at your parents’ couch” you whisper, smirk on your face. “so? don’t worry, just don’t be messy” he says huskily against your neck.
“hi, guys. what are you watching?” rin sits down next to you, and you feel sae’s anger radiating off his body. you smile with a soft blush on your cheeks, “just some thriller”
“great, those are my favourites” he says, making himself comfortable. sae glares at him, teal eyes mentally killing him. “leave” he grunts, and his younger brother arches an eyebrow. “this isn’t your couch, you should’ve booked an hotel room if you wanted to be an alone emo boy”
your hand on his chest is the only thing keeping him from strangling rin.
despite how challenging uni could be, koshi loved everything about it. that was, however, until he saw you: the girl that broke his heart back in high school. the same girl he swore he’d never let back into his life.
contains: sugawara koshi x fem!reader, college au, comedy, angst, fluff, second chances, slight ooc suga, swearing, occasional alcohol consumption, not a love story
tw: past mentions of bullying, self-deprecation and anxiety. every chapter will be labelled accordingly but please take care of yourself first
*part of the nerokoma smau multiverse but can be read separately
osamu has an instinctive response to your tears thanks to growing up with atsumu. the first time you cry in front of him, you don’t even know what it was even for. stubbing your toe? a movie? something so trivial because it’s osamu’s reaction that you remember.
immediately, a single slip of your sorrow, osamu’s towering over you. his shadow engulfs yours, his scent swallowing the salt of your tears. a gentle touch gathers your hand, but his voice, though soft, is harried.
“oh shit, fuck, what’s wrong?” osamu rushes through words like he’s not even thinking. “don’t tell ma. i swear i didn’t make ya cry.”
and it’s that out of place comment that proves he’s not. you look at him completely bewildered. he doesn’t even realize it, questioning you with an open gaze. another thirty seconds follow for him to actually process what he’s said but you’re already full blown laughing at him, crying for a different reason.
now, every time you cry, you always threaten to tell his ma on him.
wait this is so precious. based on that one video, yall know the one. also made this gn!!
thinking about this with atsumu especially, it’s halftime and the camera cuts to you in the crowd in a MSBY jersey (his number of course. you wanted to wear bokuto’s but he pouted the second you joked about it). music plays in the background to rile up the audience again, and when it cuts to you, you gasp in surprise before letting it go.
you’re grinning and dancing around, shaking your hips dramatically and laughing. the crowd is laughing with you at your performance, clapping and cheering you on-
only for the camera to cut to atsumu.
he’s dancing too.
he’s matching your moves, your dramatics, he’s grinning and laughing himself. the camera cuts back to you, still dancing, except your eyes are on each other, not the camera. it’s like the camera doesn’t even exist, it’s not part of the silliness, all that exists in your world is each other.
when the camera cuts back to him, he blows you a kiss, cutting back to you quickly to watch you catch it. the footage ends finally, but you and atsumu keep staring at each other, just completely enamored and disgustingly in love. you use your fingers to make a heart, and he smiles excitedly and uses his index finger and thumb to return the heart back.
Made the mistake of bringing up that needing glasses is a disability on tiktok and people got real mad.
“You can fix it with glasses” yeah, cuz they’re a disability aid? But like, I still have to pay 160 bucks to use my own fucking eyes?
Like, by definition, if your eyes do not work without aid, you have a disability to see.
Having a disability doesn’t automatically put you in what people consider the “disabled” category, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is in fact, a disability.
it's really a disability tho. you can't literally use the ability of your eyes without the aid of other things. and it's on the list of PWD ID clauses that i just got last 2 years, so.. 🤣
Rintaro presses one, two, three kisses to your lips before departing, the hand on your waist lingering as he slowly pulls back. You mewl and sink your teeth into your lip, smiling giddily at the sweet affection. "You sure you don’t want to come?” He asks. "The fort'll be fine while we're gone if you wanted to come."
At your knees, two chubby arms wrap around your leg, Akito squeezing the limb close in an attempt to give you affection. You smile and scoop him in your arms, “I better stay home. Let you two have some boys time. I’ll make dinner and everything so do not let him sweet talk you into getting McDonald’s, rintaro.”
He snickers softly and leans in for another kiss, “alright babygirl. We’ll behave.”
“‘wite, bab’giwl,” Akito hums at an attempt to mimic his father, and immediately, you gasp, and Akito leans forward and plants a kiss to your agape bottom lip. Rintaro’s own mouth hangs open in shock, trying his hardest to not laugh straight in his son’s face. Seemingly displeased with your lack of kiss back, Akito waves his tiny hand, "mumma, ki'."
"He's stealing my chick," Rintaro scoffs while you lean forward to give your son a proper kiss.
"Rintaro," you scold slightly. "If he's going to be picking up on words, we need to be careful of what we're encouraging him to say. Don't call me your chick!"
He grins and wraps an arm lowly around you, "not like I called you my hot and sexy bitch, sweet girl."
Your cheeks flush and your teeth sink into your lip at his words.
"Bih-ch."
Both of your faces drop. Rintaro's into one of worry and yours into lack of amusement.
"We're gonna go now,” he squeaks, grabbing his son from your arms.
The blocks on the floor do nothing to combat the craving you’re having, the need for something sweet crawling through you while you play with your daughter.
It’s almost time for bed, she’s in clean pajamas and her curls are slightly damp from her bath, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from growling at the mere idea of a sweet ice cream filling your tastebuds.
You sigh, and Mei turns to look up at you, “what wrong, mumma?”
You smile softly down at her and hook her curl behind her ear, “mommy’s having a craving, my love. Just haven’t had dessert yet.” She nods and turns back to her blocks, and you get a lightbulb in your mind as you think of ways to get ice cream from your favorite place down the street.
“Want to help mommy get some ice cream?” You ask, and Mei nods excitedly.
"Help mumma!"
"Good girl," you grin, standing up and gently grabbing Mei's hand to guide her into the living room where Keiji sits unsuspecting, watching the MSBY game highlights with a pleased smile on his face. "Okay," you whisper. "Go up to daddy, and say 'I need ice cream' okay?"
"Okay mumma!" She squeals. Quickly, she toddles over to your husband, who eagerly turns to her with an even more pleased smile. “Daddy?” Mei hums, tugging on Keiji’s pant leg.
The dark haired man turns down to his small daughter, a hand coming down to gently card her curls.
“Yes, princess?”
“Mumma need ice ceam.”
“No!” You gasp, and Keiji looks at you with a patient grin. “No, mei love, say you need ice cream.”
“Oh, okay. Daddy?” She tries again.
“Yess?”
“Uhm, I need ice ceam, pease,” she says, and Keiji nods his head in thought before turning up to you, amusement glimmering in his eyes as he smirks and nods his head in thought.
“So you need ice cream, Mei?”
“Uh-huh!” She chirps.
“Even though you already had dessert?”
This time, Mei turns up to look at you, looking for further instructions. You kneel behind her and flash Keiji your biggest set of puppy eyes, "Kei, how could you be so cruel as to not get our sweet, pretty, angel baby another sweet treat! She's such a good girl, she loves you soooo much, she can have one more treat!"
Keiji laughs and leans down to scoop Mei up in his arms, squeezing her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek, making her giggle. Then, he leans close to her ear, "did mommy ask you to say you wanted ice cream?"
"Yes," she says sweetly.
"Mei!" You laugh. Keiji snickers and presses another kiss to your daughter's cheek, and you pout with a cross of your arms, "so much for helping me."
Keiji gently hooks his daughter's curly hair behind her ear, but his words are focused and directed at you, "when have I ever said no to getting you ice cream when you've asked, my love?"
"That's not the point," you grumble. "She's supposed to be on my side."
"Well, she's on mine," he teases. He plops her on the couch next to him as he stands up, "you want your usual?"
"Yes," you pout. Keiji leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head, one hand darting down to playfully poke your sides to make you gasp and writhe.
"Don't pout; I'm sure there'll be plenty of time in the future for you two to conspire against me."
With Suguru tightening his grip on you, you mewl and burrow your face into his chest, eager to catch more sleep in the arms of your boyfriends.
Well, one of them at least.
It’s not early by any means, in fact you’re willing to bet that’s why Satoru is currently trying to stir you, but your bed is so warm and comfortable, and Suguru smells like early morning musk, body wash from his shower clinging to his skin as the blankets keep you both cozy.
You’re not ready to move. And Suguru’s not ready to stop indulging you.
“Maybe if we don’t move, he’ll go away,” you murmur, and Suguru chuckles as he gently cradles the back of your head, thumb stroking over your scalp lovingly.
“Maybe, baby.”
“I hear you both!” Satoru hisses, and you feel the bed shift as he uses two big hands to bounce Suguru’s side of the mattress. “Come on! It’s literally 10 am. Your loving, caring, handsome boyfriend needs to eat!”
Suguru sighs and clings to you closer, “maybe it's not a bad idea to get up and moving, my love."
"No," you snip. "He's fine. He can eat alone if he's so hungry."
"You're literally so mean to me," Satoru snarls.
Suguru chuckles before slowly sitting up, soothing you with soft 'I know, I know''s as he does. Your grip on him tightens and you whine in dramatic agony for his movements. "Satoru," he says, stretching his arms above his head, muscles popping softly as he shifts and wakes his body. "Why don't you get back in bed and keep them company while I make you both breakfast in bed? Deal?"
Certainly didn't have to tell Satoru twice.
It's almost comedic how quickly he darts back into his side of the bed, curling under the blankets and briefly grumbling about the chill of them and snuggling into your back. You giggle at him before turning over to wrap your arms around him, cuddling as close as you two can. Slender, long fingers gently tickle up and down your spine, lulling you back into a familiar state of relaxation that you'd felt in Suguru's strong arms.
You hear Suguru laugh once again before getting up and leaving the bedroom, feet padding down the hall and into the kitchen.
And a couple of minutes later, when he found you and Satoru sound asleep burrowed under the covers, he simply shakes his head and leaves the large plate off to the side, getting under the sheets and letting his arms enclose both of you, hoping to catch you both in sweet dreams.
hoshina soshiro. patience // slice and dice // the one // you are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad!) // she fell first he fell harder // contravention // competition/crush // cuts of freedom
It's more than a little difficult to hide your attraction to the Vice-Captain of the Third Division when you accidentally find yourself sparring with him in your pajamas in the middle of the night.
Especially when he's wearing that goddamn shirt.
wc: 4k
c: 18+ ONLY, smut, slight power imbalance, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), edging, unprotected p in v
“You get sloppy when you’re tired.”
A knee digs into the back of your own as you find yourself pinned face down on the training mats, the steady grip of a hand trapping both of your wrists against the small of your back. The vice-captain’s voice is tinged with amusement as he lets you go, easily dodging the kick you send his way as you roll in the opposite direction and jump to your feet, breathing hard.
“Fuck you,” you pant out, though there’s no real heat behind your words.
He raises an eyebrow.
“—Vice-Captain Hoshina,” you finish, offering him a patronizing smile.
Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Hoshina begins to circle you slowly, “Officer Furuhashi had to do seventy pushups last week for that, ya know.”
While he’s not wrong about your sloppy footwork, the late hour is hardly the top contender of blame for your piss-poor performance in this impromptu sparring match.
Rather, the real issue at hand is the workout shirt that Hoshina’s currently wearing, the black, skin-tight material leaving little to the imagination as it clings to his firm, defined abdomen.
Clad in nothing but your pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you had made the mistake of slowing down to peek into the slightly ajar door to the training room on your way back to the dorms, curious who was still awake at such a late hour. Your breath had hitched at the sight of the vice-captain working through a series of complex sword maneuvers by himself, mouth going dry as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of his bare hands and arms—features normally obscured by his suit on the field—and that goddamn shirt.
Naturally, he’d spotted you lingering and cajoled you inside, mouth curving sideways in a smirk as he reminded you of a few glaring mistakes you’d made earlier during training with the squad.
Now, your level of exhaustion is a moot point when it’s all you can do to reign in the traitorous swell of desire building in your chest as the sleeves of his shirt dig into his biceps each and every time he moves. The muscle that keeps fighting against the high neck of his shirt isn’t helping, either.
This heady, insistent tug you feel toward him, this dizzying, smoldering attraction that has a penchant for clouding your better judgment—it’s nothing new. Your eyes developed this unfortunate habit of instinctually straying to the vice-captain the day he volunteered to give you a tour of the base when you transferred to the Third Division, a problem that only increased tenfold the first time you had a front row seat to his…competency in dual swordsmanship.
(It’s borderline embarrassing—the way even thinking about him wielding those blades sets your heart racing.)
You’ve learned to ignore it, despite the flirtatious undercurrent to each and every interaction you share.
And yet—sparring alone with him right now while the rest of the base sleeps, sweat dripping down your back as your skin burns all over with the ghost of his touch, seeing this stripped down version of one of the Defense Force’s most lethal weapons in a moment that feels far more intimate than it has any right to be…it’s difficult to remember why you should.
Hoshina uses his forearm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, tongue darting out along his bottom lip, and a subtle shudder runs through you as you track the unconscious movement. Unfortunately, his keen eyes don’t miss the trajectory of your waning focus, and he takes advantage of the opening, the room quickly spinning as you find yourself on the floor beneath him once again.
This time, you’re lying on your back, both hands pinned above your head, his fingers incidentally laced with your own. Hoshina’s wide-eyed and panting, and you can tell you at least accomplished something—he clearly hadn’t been intending to hit the floor with you until your survival instincts kicked in enough to gracelessly drag him down on top of you.
As you go to pull free, you find something solid pressed between your legs, and it’s an effort in and of itself to stifle your gasp at the feeling that instantly curls hotly in your gut at the friction. Belatedly, you reorient yourself to find that you had hooked your left leg around his waist during the fall, and the firm wall of muscle that you’re two seconds from accidentally dry humping is his thigh that’s slotted between your legs.
Hoshina’s face sobers as he stares down at you, and you swear you feel his fingers flex minutely against your own, his expression now unreadable.
Seemingly continuing his earlier thought, he muses, “Well, I guess I get sloppy when I’m distracted.”
Your heart thunders in your chest as you find yourself balancing precariously on the tightrope of what could very well be an incredibly bad decision.
If you were smart, you’d let this moment pass.
If you were smart, you’d tap out and tell him you’re going to bed, letting out the rest of your frustration with a hand between your legs, your soft, quiet moans muffled by the spray of the shower water or the layers of your duvet.
But the words are wrestling their way past your teeth before you can stop yourself as you ask, “What could possibly distract the vice-captain of the Third Division?”
He laughs under his breath, and for a wild moment, you think he’s about to kiss you when he leans in, but his lips skirt the shell of your ear instead as he murmurs, “You don’t normally wear this when we’re trainin’ with everyone else.”
Hoshina’s lower half nudges you slightly for emphasis, his hands still occupied by your own, and you belatedly realize—with embarrassment—that you’re the one now essentially holding them in the grip of your fingers. However, the thought is quickly replaced by another jolt of pleasure as the movement presses his thigh just a hair more firmly against the heat between your legs.
At the slight widening of his eyes, you also realize something else—that soft, little moan in your head wasn’t so silent after all.
He tilts his head and sighs, “You make this real difficult for me sometimes.”
You’re far too aware of every place your bodies are touching.
“What do I make difficult?” you ask carefully, surprising yourself with your boldness.
He regards you with a look like you should already know what he’s referring to. “Ignoring the things I think about when I’m around you.”
Your mouth goes dry, a polar opposite to the arousal now soaking into your panties. “Maybe you should stop ignoring them,” you whisper before you can think better of it.
Hoshina groans, fingers tightening around yours, eyes falling shut. “Don’t say that.”
Freeing one of your hands from their entanglement with his, you reach up, pushing his dark violet locks out of his face. “Why not?”
He leans in, mouth so close to yours you can feel the heat of his exhales as he murmurs, “Cause I might be the vice-captain of this division, but I’m not above fucking you right here on the floor.”
Heat sears insistently in your lower abdomen, and you shift just enough to press into him again. He audibly breathes out through his nose, and you tilt your head slightly askew as you stare up at him. “Are you asking me to beg, then?”
You’re suddenly very grateful to have unconsciously pulled the door shut behind you when you walked in, given that this training room can only be opened from the outside with an authorized key fob after hours.
Hoshina laughs a little incredulously under his breath, tongue curling against the inside of his cheek. “I’ll make you a deal.”
You raise a brow, imploring him to continue.
“We’ll forget about those pushups for that mouth of yours, but…” he trails off, one finger ghosting over your lips. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
It’s instant—the way your brain briefly short circuits as you take in the full meaning of his words.
“I—what?”
He smirks. “You might be one of the most talented officers in this division, but your patience could really use some work.”
Well, he’s not wrong.
Smiling up at him sweetly, you shift so that your leg presses against the erection noticeably tented at the front of his pants. “Then teach me.”
You’re not prepared for it—the way all of the air leaves your lungs when Hoshina’s lips come crashing into yours. There’s no pretense to the way he claims your mouth, swallowing down the tiny little gasp that crawls up your throat, one hand cupping the side of your neck as the other reaches out to pin both of yours back to the floor. You push back a little, just for the thrill that arches down your spine when he tightens his grip, pinning you down even harder.
His tongue dances along the seam of your lips, thumb stroking the sensitive spot where your neck meets your jaw, and he groans a little when you part them, deepening the kiss. A blistering wave of arousal floods your veins as Hoshina does what can only be described as fucking his way into your mouth with his tongue, and you’re helpless to control how eagerly you take him in. Truthfully, you’ve never felt quite so turned on over the taste of someone else’s saliva, so desperate to feel the filthy, slick slide of their tongue and lips slotting and tangling with your own.
It takes you a minute to realize that you’ve started grinding against his thigh, but clearly he’s well aware, because as soon as you stop, he murmurs against your mouth, “Go ahead, keep going.”
Compiling without hesitation, you drag your clothed pussy down against the friction of his leg once more, and he bites down on your lip as you moan at the delicious sensation.
“Does that feel good?” he asks coyly.
You nod, losing any lingering senses of embarrassment over dry humping your vice-captain’s leg as you observe the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, gasping and panting as you rut against him even harder. Panties damp with arousal, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a wet spot forming against his pants, as you can already feel the surplus of sticky fluid dripping down your ass cheeks.
You could come like this.
“Stop.”
Freezing immediately at the tone of Hoshina’s voice, you open your half-lidded eyes to stare up at him, lips parted slightly.
“Didn’t say you could come yet,” he reminds you, expression tinged with amusement. “But show me how wet you are.”
He releases your hands, and you nearly whimper when he pulls his knee away, shifting to place his knees on either side of you. He slides both hands down your sides, stopping at your hips, and he trails two fingers along the waistband of your shorts, curling one of the short, loose strings around a digit before continuing his journey down your mound.
A hum of satisfaction leaves his lips as he feels the way your juices have soaked clear through the little cotton shorts. You whine in frustration when he drags a slow, deliberate circle over your swollen clit through the fabric, rocking your hips upward.
Hoshina looks like he wants to say something, possibly to chide you for your impatient behavior, but clearly the other thought in his head wins out when he slides his hand up the bottom of your shorts and hooks a finger in your underwear, tugging them aside.
Despite his teasing, the pressure of his fingers through your clothing is still nothing compared to the feather-light touch of his fingers drifting down the length of your slit.
“Fuck,” he murmurs softly in approval, sliding one digit into your wet hole.
Your pussy spasms at the sensation, and you moan for him, which only spurs him on further, earning you a second finger. The stretch still isn’t enough, and you buck your hips into his touch eagerly.
“How the fuck are you so wet,” he mutters, one hand slipping up your shirt to clutch your side as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the lewd, wet squelch contending with the rising volume of your moans.
It’s impressive—how close you are to coming already with just two of his fingers massaging your slick, tight walls, his thumb barely teasing over the bud of your throbbing clit. It’s nearly laughable compared to how long it took the last man who touched you to get you off.
“You look so pretty when you’re about to come,” Hoshina comments, curling his fingers inside of you, and you gasp.
He swiftly removes them, lips curling upward at the dismayed look on your face as you cant your hips upward into nothing, the wave of pleasure building inside of you unceremoniously crashing at the breakers before reaching the shore.
“Hoshina,” you whimper, not caring if it sounds a little pathetic as your chest heaves.
“I thought we were working on your patience,” he replies, before sticking your fingers in his mouth and licking your slick arousal clean off of them.
The warmth stirring inside of you turns molten, and your nipples feel achingly hard against the cotton fabric of your t-shirt. When he reaches down to cup your chin, your mouth falls open of its own volition, and you don’t hesitate to take his spit-soaked fingers between your lips instead.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out as you suck on the digits, a thin trail of saliva escaping in the process and dribbling past your lips.
You reach up, threading your fingers into his hair, and you tug his mouth down toward yours. He strays off course, licking the spit from your chin and dragging his tongue across your lips.
He follows the curve of your jaw with his mouth, lips blazing a trail of kisses down the side of your neck until he begins to nip and suck at your collarbone while his hands slide down to ruck up your t-shirt. He seems pleased by your lack of a bra, eyes darkening at the sight of your plush breasts bared before him. His fingers are precise as they cup one, thumb slowly dragging across your peaked nipple before he leans in and laps at the supple, sensitive skin.
You arch upward into his touch, gasping out his name, and he groans, taking your peaked bud into his mouth. Despite the fact that you know he won’t let you finish, you reach between your legs anyway, keening as you dip two fingers into your empty, wet cunt while Hoshina turns his attention to filthily sucking on your other breast. Legs spreading wider against the cage of his own, you plunge a third finger in, and Hoshina makes a displeased sound, mouth abandoning your tits to trail down your stomach.
“D’you think of me when you touch yourself?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice, his hands gently pulling yours away from between your legs before sliding off your shorts and panties.
“Maybe,” you pant out, fingers now pressing down into the soft mats beneath you.
“Maybe?” he echoes, nose brushing against your clit.
He pauses, and you can feel the warm huff of air that hits your slit as you whimper a strangled “Yes” when he lazily begins to slide a single finger back into your needy cunt.
Another fresh thrill of arousal shudders through you as he calmly replies, “Good girl,” before he spreads your legs even wider and drags his tongue through your folds.
You blink back the spots from the bright ceiling lights that dance against your eyelids as your entire body arches upward off of the mats, the grip of his hands on the globes of your ass the only thing keeping you grounded as Hoshina groans lewdly at the taste of your pussy, lapping another broad, hungry stroke,
You’d do anything to come at this point, tears now pricking at the corners of your eyes as another blazing hot onslaught of pleasure trickles through your limbs, ruthlessly dragging you toward the edge.
He abruptly stops again, his lips covered in the slick sheen of your arousal when he looks up at you.
“Hoshina, please,” you whimper.
“Soshiro,” he exhales roughly, hips aligning with yours as he makes his way up your body to press a wet, filthy kiss to your lips.
“Soshiro,” you repeat a little breathlessly, and he kisses you again, more roughly this time.
You can feel his thick erection as it presses down against your naked mound through his pants, and there’s little you can do to hold back your urge to roll your hips upward, dragging your wet, naked heat along his shaft.
“Soshiro,” you say again, more desperately this time, and he groans, grinding back down against you with more fervor at the sound of his name on your lips.
Slipping a hand between your bodies, your fingers fumble with the button of his pants, and he’s quick to take over, making quick work of the zipper. He guides your hand to his dick, wrapping your fingers around its thick girth as he asks, “You wanna feel this inside of you?”
The mere suggestion makes your woefully empty walls clench, and you can feel a fresh dribble of arousal leak from you. Giving his cock a few experimental pumps, you nod feverishly.
“Put it in then,” he murmurs, and there’s something undeniably erotic about the way he lazily stares down at you, waiting.
You guide his shaft toward your slick cunt, rejoicing just a bit in the slight shudder that wracks through him as you rub the flushed, leaking head of his cock against your slippery folds, his precum mixing with the lubrication of your wet juices.
If you thought you were desperate to come on his fingers and tongue, the heady buzz of need that’s been steadily buzzing inside of you is nothing compared to the gushing flood of desperation at the feeling of Hoshina’s length splitting you open. You’re a little too tight for him, but it feels so good—the way he replaces your hand with his own to stuff his cock the rest of the way inside of you. Your cunt greedily clenches down on each inch until you’re suddenly empty again.
Hoshina—Soshiro—fucks like he fights: all teasing, taunting confidence. Every move he makes is pointed, purposeful. So you know he’s left you woefully empty now solely to bask in your frustrated reaction, just to hear your subsequent gasp of pleasure when he plunges back inside of you once more.
You’re so fucking sensitive right now, it’s ridiculous—white-hot bursts of pleasure ignite in your abdomen with every little push and drag of the shape of his cock against the plush, tight grip of your cunt.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he hisses, exhaling roughly as he pulls out of you entirely once more, firmly gripping the base of his cock like he’s just as close to coming as you are.
Leaning down, Hoshina drags his lips across yours in some messy approximation of a kiss, his breath hot against your cheek as his mouth veers off. Turning your head to the side, you nip at his bottom lip, and he molds his mouth to yours, tongue slipping into your mouth.
Your muscles tense with anticipation as you feel the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your cunt, your ass lifting off of the mat to chase the friction with brazen need. But Hoshina’s hand slips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his shaft, and he positions himself lengthwise with your slit.
Any sounds of protest promptly die in your throat, only to be replaced by a wanton moan that Hoshina swallows down as he deepens the kiss while he begins to roll his hips, sliding his throbbing cock up and down through your drenched, sticky folds.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp, fingers digging into his back as you writhe beneath him, nearly seeing stars each time the head of his dick catches against your sensitive, swollen clit.
There’s a thin line of spit between your lips as he breaks the kiss, watching you burn from the inside out with relentless, intoxicating tremors of pleasure.
“Not yet,” Hoshina murmurs, slowing the rocking of his hips as he lines himself with your quivering entrance once more. “When I make you come, it’ll be on my cock.”
When he buries himself inside of you this time, you choke out a sob, the ache between your thighs reaching a fever pitch as he stuffs your pussy full to the hilt. And you swear he must feel the way your cunt is gripping him—begging him to stay buried deep inside of you, to finally let you cream all over his cock—because he sounds wrecked as he roughly moans your name against your mouth.
One of his hands slides along your arm, fingertips lacing with yours as the other cups your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple.
“You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, eyes wide, his hair far more mussed than you’ve ever seen it on the battlefield.
Despite the protest of your trembling, tightly-wound limbs, you wrap your legs around his waist, keening as you use the heel of your foot to press him even deeper inside of you and pant out, “Harder.”
He doesn’t hesitate to oblige, his steady strokes turning rough when he begins to pound into you, a litany of curses tumbling from his lips as your tits shake with each snap of his hips.
You’re so fucking close—and you know he feels it, how fucking badly you want to give in to this torrential downpour of pleasure that’s threatening to drag you under.
“Come for me,” he finally commands in a sultry, gravelly tone that you’re certain will fucking haunt your wet dreams for years to come.
It’s not difficult to obey—not when your entire body has been reduced to a dripping, trembling, desperate coil of tension, slipping along the tightrope of a tauntingly close climax for far too long. Shockwaves of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt grip every nerve ending from head to toe as your climax erupts, and Hoshina’s groan is downright filthy as he feels your pussy gush all over his cock.
“Shit,” he pants out, muscles tensing hard as you ride out your orgasm, eyes falling shut while your cunt spasms and contracts against his shaft. “Shit, shit.”
You’ve only just finished when he quickly pulls his cock from your quivering hole and groans loudly, barely giving his shaft half a stroke before ropes of hot, thick cum are spurting all over your bare chest, spilling all over your tits.
It’s quiet as he sits there kneeling between your spread legs, chest heaving just as hard as yours as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened. Subtly, you reach down to pinch your thigh, not quite convinced your late night waltz to the kitchen wasn’t just the product of a fucked up dream.
Hoshina shrugs off his shirt, hardly giving you time to ogle what the hell he’s been hiding beneath there before he begins wiping his cum off of your chest. When he’s finished, he stands, and you slip back into your clothes as you watch him ball up his soiled shirt and grab his jacket.
He pulls you to your feet, and the way his hands slide down your sides to smooth down your wrinkled t-shirt is oddly intimate, his fingers straying lower to briefly toy with the hem of your shorts. Instead of putting on his jacket to make up for his lack of a shirt, he reaches around you to settle it over your shoulders, the familiar, dizzying scent that you’ve come to associate with him enveloping your senses.
–
And when you accidentally wear his jacket to training the next morning, you find what must be a spare key card to his room left nestled in one of the pockets.
There’s a coy smile on his lips when he spots you staring down at the white piece of plastic, shrugging before he returns his attention to the rest of the gathered officers.
Osamu swears he’s going to hire someone for the graveyard shift.
He can’t keep doing these obscene night cleaning-shifts alone, they run him exhausted and keep him from coming home to you for a vast majority of the night, keeping you both from each other.
You leave before he wakes up. He’s back after you’ve gone to bed.
He’d assured you that, tonight however, he was going to be home at 9, come hell or high water, to spend a night with you like you deserve, because if anyone deserves his attention for being a good sport, so patient and loving and kind to him, it’s you.
But he’s not perfect, despite what he’d love to believe.
Because counting the registers turned into resweeping the floors. Then, when he realized it was still before 9, he started to wipe the counters. By the time that was done, he’d noticed the sacks of rice that needed to be moved to the kitchen from the pantry in preparation for tomorrow’s rush. He needed to scan them in for inventory, then he needed to pencil them in to make another note of how much he needs to order from Kita-San.
All this… until his watch cruelly reminded him of the time.
Past midnight.
Now osamu drives home in silence, a massive hand scrubbing down his face while the other weakly holds the steering wheel.
It's a miracle he's alive to tell the tale.
His eyes are heavy as he pulls into your driveway, home silhouetted in the moonlight like a beacon of hope. He shambles into his home, carefully maneuvering around his dark home as to not wake you. He knows you're asleep in bed, curled on your side with your head on his pillow bc it smells like him, and he'll have to move you so gently and try not to melt at the sleepy smile you give him.
Tonight, however, you surprise him.
The room is lit with candles that are placed on top of books that lead like a trail to the bed, the lamp covered with a thin, red cloth that adorns the room in a pink hue. Melted chocolate strawberries are plopped on his nightstand. He smiles at the sight of you, his onigiri shirt which pools around your body and a pair of underwear, curled up on the bed and sleeping soundly, using your pillows as a blanket.
He sighs as his heart aches from all the clear effort you put into the decor, bowing slightly to blow out the candles- he’s honestly amazed the house hasn’t burned down- all before making his way to the bed and slowly sitting down. He smiles fondly as your brows furrow at the dipping of the bed, and he rests a loving hand on your back, thumb running back and forth soothingly.
“All this work and I couldn’t be quicker, huh?” He mumbles to you, knowing you can’t hear him, but he chuckles as you shuffle to be closer to the new warmth. Finally, your eyes twitch to slowly open, and you yawn as you slowly blink awake, sleepy gaze drawing up to Osamu. You smile and try to curl closer to him, “hi, baby,” you mumble sleepily.
He clicks his tongue fondly and moves his hand to cup your cheek, stroking his thumb over the creases from your smile, “hey sweetheart… what’s all this, hm?” He asks, smiling happily when you chuckle and close your eyes again.
“Wanted us to have a romantic evening,” you explain, and osamu wants to kill everyone who kept him from you tonight. “I miss our time together, but we’ve been so busy and…” In your sleepy haze, you must realize what you’re saying because your eyes fly open and you stop yourself from finishing your thought, but Osamu already knows what you’re thinking before you can even tell him otherwise.
“And I was supposed to be here,” he sighs. When you say nothing and your eyes do your best to avoid his, he scratches the tiny hairs at the nape of your neck, “I’m sorry, baby, I should’ve been here.”
“You were working,” you hum, head nuzzling against your own arm more. “I get it.”
“I just don’t have the time anymore for stuff like this-“
His words trail off before they can dive from his tongue, but he wonders if it was worth it, because the silence is suffocating, and he can already tell by the way your brows furrow in pain that even you’re surprised with his words.
“Have the time…” you begin, slowly sitting up. “For… what?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he corrects, but at this point, he’s watching your face contort from shock to just… sadness. He feels his heart break, he knows he needs to fix this. “I just meant I didn’t have anymore free time.”
This time, you slowly sit up, still facing away from him, and he hates the feeling of you being so appalled by his audacity when he’s trying so hard to fix it- even if there’s nothing to fix.
There’s nothing he can say, not much else he can do, he’s done his damage, and now his price is to watch your glimmering eyes blink a line of tears that quickly get wiped away with the back of your hand.
“I didn’t realize I was free time,” you choke, and he moves his lips to try and form words, but not a single one comes out to try and fix the situation.
You’re not, he wants to say. That you take all his time, you’ve earned all this time, all he wants is you, all the time, and he’s been shitty and he’s amazed you haven’t upped and left him for all he is when it’s all he deserves.
Why the hell can’t he just say it?
“I’m… I’m gonna go out to the couch,” you say, finally looking up at him and sealing the final nail in his coffin. Your sclera’s are red with tears, and your voice croaks from the lump of embarrassment that settles against the chords.
“No, no, no baby, c’mon,” he pleads, reaching out to grab your wrist. “We can still have a good night, yeah?” He brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles, “have some strawberries, drink some champagne, right?”
You offer him a small, fake smile, but your eyes glimmer in betrayal, “it’s okay. It’s late. You’ve got to be up tomorrow morning.”
“But-“ he squeezes your wrist tighter. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he whimpers. “We can still cuddle, I always have time to cuddle with ya.”
“Do we have to pencil that in as free time too?” You scoff. He deserves it, he know he does, but he reels his hand back like he’s been burned, heartbreak squeezing his chest.
“Baby, no… god, no, I’m sorry-“
“I know you just tripped up your words, Osamu,” you confess, wrapping your arms around yourself as an attempt to comfort. “But you clearly were feeling that way, that’s why the thought was there. You meant what you said, even if it wasn’t how you wanted to say it.”
"But-"
"We can finish this tomorrow," you whisper, and he hears it in your throat that you're fighting back tears. "I'm tired."
"Yeah... okay..."
But you don't go to sleep.
Osamu knows this.
Because he never went to sleep either, staring at the ceiling while he listened to you wail on the phone with your best friend, his own tears biting his eyes, hot like fire as they roll down his face.
