Hootn AND A Hollern - Tumblr Posts
oh my goddd i’m such a sucker for roommate au stuff. ur osamu roommate drabble is making me geek and he’s not even one of my faves. would u ever make a sequel where reader actually wins in tempting him to act on his impulses?
700+ words, suggestive, gn!reader in a skirt, minors dni
“Osamu! Can you help me with this?” It’s a stupid ploy, and he’s going to see right through it. You know that. You’ve made peace with that, even. At this point, if standing on the top step of a stepstool, balancing on one leg, with both arms over your head with a hammer and one singular nail in hand couldn’t get his attention, you’d just have to give up.
Footsteps can be heard in the hallway before your door creaks open slowly. “What’s going o- are ya tryin’ to get yerself killed?” Before you can even turn around, Osamu’s hands are on your waist, sending shocks through your body, making you yelp and drop your nail.
“Ah, shit-” you curse as you place your foot down next to the other, steadying yourself. “I’m trying to get this nail up, but the ceilings are so high,” you whine, convincing yourself with your own lie.
“Why didn’ you call me in the first place?” he sighs, bending down to pick up the nail for you. But on the way back up, he freezes- it’s a perfect view right up under your skirt. He can see where the seam of your panties cuts into the squish of your thighs, can see how the comfy material strains against the curve of your ass.
He can’t look for long, he knows that, but it’s so hard to tear himself away from the heavenly sight. His mouth is watering when he stands up again, avoiding the way you’ve twisted around to stare down at him. “I didn’t wanna bother you,” you lie with a pout. Bullshit, he just fell right into your trap. “Can you help?”
You reach back out for the nail but Osamu sighs, holding it in his fist. “Let me take care of it. Stay where ya are.” Before you can protest, he’s stepping up behind you, placing a hand on the wall to brace himself. He stands on the step below you, reaching up and taking the hammer from your hand. “Probably shouldn’t be up here for long,” he says, voice gruff in your ear.
“Ye-yeah…” Your brain is putty, body clenching as you think of how unfair it is you’ve had to wait this long for him.
“Where’d ya want it?” he asks, holding the nail up against the wall. “Here good?”
“Perfect,” you squeak, debating on if you should press back against him. That’s when he places one foot next to yours, propping himself up, and therefore pressing his crotch directly against your ass. Your hands flatten against the wall, bracing yourself.
Thump. one hit and already his body is pressed right up against yours, something firm pressing between your legs. Is he hard? Thump. He is, you can feel the swelling in his pants digging in to your thighs. Thump. You press your hips back, grinding in time with the swing of his body closer to the wall. He hisses, stepping down off the stool completely.
“Ah, fuck.” Your blood runs cold, fearing the worst. “Fuckin’ bleeding.”
“Huh?” You stumble down the stool yourself, quickly grabbing his hand to find the source of the bleeding. It’s on his thumbs, a small cut from the tip of the nail.
“Must’ve grabbed it too tight. ‘M sorry, sunshine.” You feel your fingertips tingle at the nickname, a surge of pure elation pumping through your heart. Quickly, you pull his hand to your mouth, positioning his thumb right in front of your mouth. While maintaining eye contact with him, you press a sweet kiss over the sore, allowing the droplet of his blood that had formed to stain your lips.
He watches you with held breath, brain pulsing as you push the last restraint he had. Fuck it, no going back now. With confidence, he raises an eyebrow as he stares at you with otherwise uninterested eyes, then presses his thumb against your lips. Harder and harder until they give way, letting his finger rest against your tongue. “Clean it up for me, yeah?”
Your lips wrap around his thumb easily, curling into a sweet smile. Your hand wraps around his wrist as your tongue laps lovingly at the pad, the tangy taste of his blood clouding your tastebuds when you swallow. When you’re satisfied, you drop his hand, opening your mouth and letting your tongue wag out, his thumb resting atop.
Osamu seems satisfied, lifting his thumb and inspecting it before licking the pad clean, himself- mixing your saliva with his before swallowing. “Thanks, babe.” He smiles at you for a few seconds, letting the moment hang in the air a little longer. “Hey…do ya think y’could help with somethin in my room now?”
rb's appreciated!