Osaragi | Sakamoto Days - Fanart

The rain, a persistent, hushed whisper against the windowpanes of their shared sanctuary, did little to dampen the electric current that crackled between them. Osaragi, her normally composed demeanor softened by the intimacy of the evening, watched as Sakamoto’s silhouette moved against the dim lamplight. He was preparing a late-night tea, the familiar clinking of porcelain a gentle counterpoint to the thrumming in her own chest. It had been a long, grueling day, a tapestry woven with the usual threads of their dangerous profession, but now, in this quiet aftermath, a different kind of anticipation settled over her. She traced the rim of her teacup, her gaze lingering on the subtle curve of his back, the quiet strength in his movements.

He turned then, a faint, knowing smile gracing his lips as his eyes met hers. There was an unspoken understanding that flowed between them, a language built on shared battles, whispered secrets, and a growing, undeniable tenderness. He offered her the steaming mug, his fingers brushing hers, and the brief contact sent a shiver, not of cold, but of pure, unadulterated desire, through her. The air thickened, laden with the scent of brewing herbs and something far more primal. Osaragi found herself holding her breath, caught in the magnetic pull of his presence. She had always admired his quiet strength, his unwavering loyalty, but lately, that admiration had begun to blossom into something deeper, something that made her nights restless and her thoughts perpetually drift towards him.

As he settled beside her on the plush rug, the unspoken questions hung heavy between them. The rain outside seemed to intensify, mirroring the tempest brewing within her. She noticed the way his gaze lingered on her, a slow, appreciative appraisal that made her skin prickle. It was more than just recognition; it was a hunger, a desire that mirrored her own. The silence stretched, not in awkwardness, but in the delicious anticipation of what was to come. She felt a flush creep up her neck, a familiar sensation whenever she was this close to him, under this particular kind of scrutiny. He reached out, his calloused fingertips gently tracing the line of her jaw, sending waves of warmth cascading through her. Her eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the sensation, the sheer audacity of his touch. This was a new chapter, a delicate dance they had been circling for weeks, and tonight, the music had finally begun to play.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear, and whispered her name. The sound was a soft caress, a promise that resonated deep within her. Osaragi tilted her head back, her eyes meeting his, and in their depths, she saw not just the hardened killer she knew, but a man yearning, a man wanting. The hunger was mutual, a palpable force that pulled them closer, blurring the lines between their professional lives and the raw, elemental needs that stirred beneath the surface. He moved with deliberate slowness, his hands beginning a gentle exploration of her form, each touch igniting a fresh wave of heat. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a drumbeat urging her forward, deeper into this intoxicating abyss.

His touch was reverent, yet laced with an undeniable possessiveness as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her dress, tracing the delicate curve of her waist, the swell of her hip. Osaragi let out a soft moan, a sound of surrender that he readily welcomed. The air vibrated with unspoken desire, a symphony of soft sighs and the rhythmic patter of the rain. He unbuttoned her blouse with practiced ease, his gaze never leaving hers, each button a testament to the growing intimacy between them. The cool night air kissed her exposed skin as the fabric parted, revealing the delicate lace of her bra. His eyes darkened with a raw, unbridled hunger, and Osaragi felt herself melting under his intense gaze.

He kissed her then, a slow, lingering exploration that spoke volumes of their unspoken feelings. His lips were soft yet firm, tasting of something sweet and intoxicating, and Osaragi met his kiss with an eagerness that surprised even herself. Her hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands as the kiss deepened, becoming more demanding, more passionate. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in this intimate space, their bodies pressed together, their souls entwined. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through her, and Osaragi felt a thrill of power course through her veins. This was more than just physical; it was a profound connection, a merging of spirits that transcended the physical realm.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling. "Osaragi," he murmured, his voice raspy with emotion. "You’re… beautiful." The words, so simple, yet so profound, sent another tremor of delight through her. She smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached her eyes. "And you, Sakamoto," she replied, her voice a soft whisper, "are… everything." The confession hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises, with a future that now felt brighter, more vibrant than ever before.

He began to undress her with a deliberate, almost worshipful slowness. Each piece of clothing that fell away revealed more of her, and with each revelation, his gaze intensified, his touch grew bolder. Her bra followed, and he paused, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs stroking her already hardened nipples. Osaragi arched into his touch, her back bowing, a silent plea for more. His mouth followed, his tongue teasing, swirling, until she was gasping his name, her fingers clenching his shoulders. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over her, pulling her further into the depths of their shared passion.

He continued to explore her body, his lips trailing a path of fire down her stomach, her hips, until he reached the juncture of her thighs. Osaragi moaned again, her legs trembling with anticipation. His touch was both gentle and firm, a masterful exploration that brought her to the precipice of ecstasy. She gasped as his tongue found her most sensitive spot, a searing, exquisite sensation that sent shivers of pure pleasure through her. Her hips began to move involuntarily, seeking the exquisite torment he was so expertly inflicting. She clung to him, her nails digging lightly into his back, her body writhing under his ministrations. The rain outside seemed to have stopped, leaving a hushed silence that amplified the sounds of their pleasure, their gasps, their moans, their whispered declarations of need.

He worked her with an unwavering focus, his tongue and lips a symphony of exquisite torture. Osaragi felt herself spiraling, losing all sense of time and place, her entire being consumed by the pleasure he was so generously bestowing upon her. Her climax hit her like a lightning strike, a powerful, all-consuming wave that left her breathless and trembling, her body convulsing with each wave of intense pleasure. She cried out his name, a raw, primal sound, and felt him hold her tightly, grounding her as the last tremors subsided.

When she could finally speak, her voice was a shaky whisper. "Sakamoto…" He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers, and Osaragi felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal against her thigh. A slow, wicked smile spread across her face. The night was far from over. She shifted, her hips pressing against him, her eyes meeting his with a newfound boldness. She wanted him, craved him, and she was ready to give him everything she had. She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Your turn," she whispered, the words a seductive promise.

With a shared look of mutual desire, they moved with a renewed urgency. Osaragi, fueled by the pleasure she had just experienced, took the lead. She helped him out of his remaining clothes, her fingers tracing the taut lines of his muscles, the hardness of his arousal. She guided him to the floor, her eyes never leaving his as she knelt before him. The romantic atmosphere had now fully ignited into a blaze of raw, unadulterated lust, yet it was underscored by the deep affection and trust they had built. She took him into her mouth, her tongue exploring, teasing, worshiping him. He groaned, his hands burying themselves in her hair, his body tensing with the exquisite sensations. Osaragi savored the taste of him, the feel of him, the sheer power she held in her hands. She focused on pleasuring him, pouring all her desire and gratitude into each stroke, each lick. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and she felt a thrill as she brought him closer and closer to the edge.

He finally climaxed with a guttural cry, his body shuddering as he found release. Osaragi held him, letting him recover, her own body still humming with residual pleasure. As he caught his breath, his eyes met hers, filled with a profound gratitude and an even deeper desire. He gently pulled her up, their bodies still intimately connected. "Now," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, "it's my turn to worship you."

He positioned her on her hands and knees, her back exposed, a perfect invitation. The familiar sight of his erection pressing against her, ready and eager, sent a fresh wave of excitement through her. Osaragi felt a blush of anticipation and excitement wash over her as she positioned herself for the primal act they were about to share. His hands found her hips, guiding her, urging her to arch her back. The initial penetration was a slow, deliberate glide, a perfect fit that sent a shiver of pure bliss through her. He whispered affirmations, praising her beauty, her responsiveness, his words a delicious caress against her skin.

With each thrust, they found a deeper rhythm, a primal dance of pleasure and passion. Osaragi reveled in the sensation of being filled by him, the feeling of his strong body moving within hers. She moaned his name, her voice raw with exertion and pleasure, her hips meeting his thrusts with an eagerness that matched his own. The doggystyle position allowed for an intense, uninhibited connection, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony, their breaths ragged, their hearts pounding in unison. She could feel the strain in his muscles, the intensity of his focus, and it only fueled her own desire. The rougher the pace, the more she craved it, a testament to the primal nature of their connection. She felt herself approaching another peak, the sensations building with an almost unbearable intensity.

He matched her intensity, his thrusts growing deeper, faster, driving her towards an explosive release. Osaragi cried out as she came, her body writhing, convulsing with each wave of pleasure. Sakamoto followed moments later, his own climax a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through her. They collapsed together, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts still racing. The afterglow was a symphony of contented sighs and shared warmth, a testament to the profound intimacy they had shared. He held her close, his chin resting on her head, and Osaragi felt a sense of peace and fulfillment that transcended anything she had ever known.

As the first hint of dawn began to paint the sky, they lay tangled together, the remnants of their passionate encounter a sweet testament to their deepening bond. The rain had long since stopped, replaced by a gentle quiet that settled over their shared space. Osaragi traced the lines of his face, her touch soft, reverent. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and a soft smile touched his lips as he met her gaze. There was a tenderness in his eyes that made her heart ache in the most beautiful way. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her, and Osaragi buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent, the scent of their shared intimacy. This was more than just a night of passion; it was the solidification of something precious, something that promised to endure. The dangerous world they inhabited faded into insignificance, replaced by the quiet, profound comfort of their connection, a love forged in the fires of danger and tempered by the gentle warmth of shared desire. She knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her soul, that this was just the beginning.