𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 ౨ৎ

ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ..- ᴋᴀʀᴀꜱᴜ ᴛᴀʙɪᴛᴏ

now playing..
long way 2 go- by cassie

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 1:21

♪ wanna love me, wanna touch me ♪

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

summary: in which, your husband has been working too late lately, and as the tease you are.. you make him regret it.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Applying a last glossy layer over your plump lips, you screwed the cap back onto the expensive product and walked over to your cream-coloured, chester draws. Pulling open the second draw, you trailed your fingers over each different material.

Lace, silk, cotton, so many options and styles to choose from, and so many colours. You hooked your finger around a lacy, wine-red set and tugged it out the draw. Untying your dressing gown, you left the soft, plush material hit the floor before slipping into the lingerie.

Your husband, Karasu Tabito, had been working later than usual. You knew he wasn't cheating, he let you know you could check his phone whenever and you also had his colleagues spying on him for you. It was genuinely just a lack-of-staff issue.

But, you had needs, and Karasu was too tired after all the late nights. So tonight, you'd make sure he couldn't sleep. Strolling into the kitchen, it felt strangely freeing to walk around in just underwear - you made a mental note to do it more.

Grabbing multiple pans and cooking necessities, you began to prepare your meal.

Hearing the door open, a sudden rush of regret and nerves flooded through you, and you thought about fleeing to your room to cover up. But nonetheless, you continued to dice the array of vibrant vegetables neatly.

"Honey, I'm home!" You heard the fatigued strain of his voice travel through your home, the sound of his work shoes hitting the panelled floor. Adrenaline crawled through your veins, contaminating each cell until you were buzzing with it.

Sucking in a deep breath, you tried to restrain the buzzing of your nerves, nervously chewing on the flesh of your pigmented lips. Drumming your manicured hand against the steel of the stove, you waited in suspense for the kitchen door to creak.

"Hey sweetheart, it smells real good in here, what yer cookin' up", he slowly trailed off, voice dying down as his eyes snapped open. You fought literal demonic entities to restrict yourself from looking at his reaction, simply humming the response under your breath.

Even though your tone was dismissive, your heart was practically about to rupture out of your chest. You heard his hasty footsteps, and then felt the sensation of his cotton work button-up against the bare flesh of your stomach.