He absolutely does and I’m sorry this took so long for me to get done. I miss seeing you on my dash and really hope you’re doing well sweetie. Hope these are to your liking!
G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)
The press of her lips became less engaging, her hands shaking. Concerned, Yaku leans up, forcing his eyes open. They’re half clothed, his shirt gone while she’s in a t-shirt and underwear. Concerned by her expression, he rests his palm against her cheek, thumb trailing under her eye.
“Hey,” he says, voice soft, “what’s wrong?” She takes in a shaky breath, eyes averting to the wall but he tugs her chin, gently making her look at him. “Talk to me,” he insists.
Another breath and she finally admits, “I…no matter how many times we do this, I just…I’m afraid you…I’m not…” she pauses and he waits, allowing her the time she needs to voice her thoughts, her fears. Finally the words, “I don’t feel pretty enough for you,” spill out of trembling lips. He stills their tremor with a kiss, gentle, slow, long and full of passion, his hand raking through her hair down to her neck, fingers caressing the sensitive spot he discovered the week before.
When his chest can no longer forego air, Yaku pulls away, admiring his handy work in the form of her lips plush from his attentions.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he says, smiling at her. “I mean, literally, I want to fuck you gorgeous.”
Her cheeks erupt into crimson at his brash words but his tone is still soft, still kind. “I love you,” he continues, kissing down her cheek to her jaw where he switches to use his tongue, smirking with satisfaction when she arches into him as he trails to ear. Reaching it, he whispers, “Please let me show you how much.”
J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)
It could have been any number of things that finally broke Yaku’s tentative hold on his temper that day but the sight of Lev deliberating flirting with his girlfriend was the nail in the coffin for his self control.
Stomping across the gym, he grabbed her wrist, tugging her away from the taller male.
“Morisuke, what’s wrong?” she asked a bit breathless.
For answer, he sat on the lowest level bleacher, pulling her onto his lap and sealing his lips over hers in a desperate kiss. It wasn’t difficult to engage his tongue with hers when she gasped in surprise at his actions. He felt her fingers tighten their hold of his jacket as her body shifted to move away from him, clearly torn between wanting him to continue and being embarrassed of their display in front of the team.
Yaku pulled her back down easily, moving his mouth to her neck where he kissed up to her ear, growling, “I’m gonna make sure they know just who you’re with and why.” He bit the lobe and she cried out, slamming a hand over her mouth to stifle further noises.
From across the room, Kuroo whistled lowly. “Looks like demon-senpai has come out to play,” he remarked, grin widening. Clapping his hands garnered some of the team’s attention. “Four laps,” he called out, groans erupting from the mass of red. “You can thank Lev for them,” the captain went on, hustling them out of the gym.
“Yaku, when you’re done sucking face, get your ass in gear!” he shouted over his shoulder, laughing as the libero flashed him the middle finger without breaking the seal of his lips over his girlfriend’s mouth.
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