Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
Kuroo’s grandparents’ house was packed. The warm hum of conversation filled every corner, blending with the occasional burst of laughter and the distant sound of kids squealing as they ran through the hallways. His entire family had gathered for his grandfather’s birthday, a rare full-family event that happened maybe once a year.
The kitchen was a flurry of activity, aunts swapping recipes and gossip over steaming dishes while his uncles gathered around the dining table, engaged in heated debates over sports. Kuroo’s grandmother had you both cornered earlier, asking—no, demanding—when you two planned on giving her great-grandchildren, and before you could even attempt an answer, Kuroo had expertly steered the conversation to something else, saving you from the relentless interrogation.
You had smiled, nodded, played your role as the perfect daughter-in-law, but after hours of dodging prying questions and smiling at distant relatives whose names you barely remembered, you were in desperate need of a break. The stuffy warmth of the crowded living room and the persistent hum of voices pressing in from all sides made escape your only option.
So, you slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a quiet sigh, pressing your hands against the sink. A deep breath, a few moments to yourself—that was all you needed. A little peace, a little space, a moment where you weren’t being eyed like a future baby-making machine.
Then, a few minutes later, the door clicked open again.
You barely had time to turn before Kuroo slipped in, shutting it behind him.
Your eyes widened. "What are you—"
"Let’s fuck."
You blinked. "Wow. How romantic. You really know how to set the mood, Tetsurō. Maybe light a candle next time? Play some soft jazz?"
His smirk was slow, lazy, dangerous. "Oh, I’d play something, alright. But I don’t think you’d be able to focus on the music."
You scoffed, folding your arms. "Tetsurō, we’re at your grandparent’s house. At a family event. With people literally roaming the halls. But sure, let’s add public indecency to our marriage résumé. That'll really impress your grandma."
He leaned in, pressing his hands against the sink behind you, caging you in. “And?”
Your heart pounded. “And it’s a terrible idea.”
Kuroo tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “You remember that bet we made a few weeks ago?”
Your stomach dropped.
Of course, you remembered. Some stupid, petty argument over who could name more world capitals or something equally dumb. You lost.
And Kuroo? He said he’d save his favor for the right moment.
This was apparently it.
“Tetsurō.” You crossed your arms, trying to look firm despite the way your pulse hammered in your throat. “Absolutely not.”
He grinned. “You agreed to the deal.”
“I didn’t think you’d cash it in like this!”
He hummed, tilting his head. “Well, it’s the perfect time. No one even notices we’re gone.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the second his hands slid down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your hips, his body heat radiating against yours—
Your resolve crumbled.
“You wouldn’t.”
Kuroo leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Oh, I would.”
And with the way he was pressing into you, his hands gripping you like he’d already won— you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop him.
His fingers trailed lower, teasing, playful, pressing into the fabric of your dress just enough to make you gasp. “You know, I was gonna save this for something special, but…” he exhaled against your neck, his voice dark, teasing. “I think you’d rather pay up right now, wouldn’t you?”
Your breath hitched, hands coming up to push against his chest—half-heartedly. “Your Mother is outside.”
His smirk deepened. “And? No one’s paying attention.”
“Tetsurō—”
“Shhh,” he murmured, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up. His lips hovered over yours, barely brushing, mocking. “You’re acting like you don’t want this.”
Your skin burned, and you cursed how easily he could unravel you. The worst part? He knew it. He knew you’d fold for him, knew exactly how to make your body betray you.
“Tell me you don’t want me,” he murmured, lips pressing just beneath your ear, his breath hot and slow.
You swallowed hard. “Tetsu—”
His hands slid further down, gripping your hips, pulling you against him. “Say it, baby. Say you don’t want me to touch you.”
You couldn’t.
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, your resolve slipping further with every second.
Kuroo chuckled, the sound low and full of satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”
His hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin of your thighs. “You’re already getting warm, baby,” he whispered. “You sure you wanna keep resisting me?”
You clenched your jaw, trying to fight the way your body shuddered under his touch.
You parted your lips, ready to say something—anything—but the moment his fingers pressed just a little higher, your breath hitched, and you knew you were done for.
Kuroo’s smirk widened. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
And then, he kissed you.
Deep, slow, devouring.
Your back hit the bathroom counter, your arms winding around his neck as he took his time, teasing you, making you fall apart without even trying.
“We have to be quiet,” he whispered against your lips.
And with the way he was dragging you under, drowning you in heat, in want, in him— you knew that was going to be impossible.
But instead of answering, you simply nodded, your breath uneven, your body already melting against him. His eyes darkened at your silent surrender, and before you could process it, you were kissing him again—deeper, more desperate, all hesitation gone.
His hands moved instantly, slipping further beneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing, waiting. "That's my girl," he murmured against your lips, his grip tightening as he pressed you harder against the counter. "Now, let's see how well you can keep quiet."
His fingers slid between your thighs, parting them just enough before slipping under your underwear, skimming over your warmth with a featherlight touch. You sucked in a sharp breath, your hands gripping the sink behind you as he chuckled low against your lips. "Already so warm for me, baby."
You bit down on your lip as his fingers pressed in, slow but firm, stretching you just enough to make your legs shake. He worked you open with practiced ease, his other hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still as your body responded to every precise curl of his fingers.
A whimper nearly escaped your lips, but you slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening as you remembered where you were.
Kuroo smirked, dark and wicked, his fingers moving faster, his thumb circling that sensitive spot that had your stomach tightening. "That’s it," he whispered, nipping at your jaw. "Keep quiet for me. You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?"
You shook your head, muffled sounds slipping between your fingers as your thighs trembled around his hand. He was relentless, teasing, playing, knowing exactly how to push you to the edge without letting you go over.
Then, just as your breath hitched, just as your body started to tighten around his fingers, he withdrew.
You let out a desperate, choked sound, but before you could protest, you felt the unmistakable press of him against you. Hot. Hard. Teasing.
He groaned as he rubbed himself against your entrance, just barely pushing the tip inside before pulling away.
"Shit—you're shaking, baby," he whispered, his voice rough, strained with control. "You want it that bad, huh?"
Before you could answer, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the sink. The cool porcelain against your skin sent a shiver up your spine, but it was nothing compared to the way he slotted himself between your legs, teasing you further as he lined himself up.
"Hold on to me," he muttered, voice thick with hunger.
Your arms wrapped around his neck just as he pushed inside, slow but deliberate, stretching you inch by inch. A strangled moan built in your throat, but you barely bit it back, eyes fluttering shut as he bottomed out, filling you completely.
His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he started to move, deep and steady at first, but quickly growing more desperate. His breath was hot against your neck, each groan rumbling through his chest as he thrust into you, the wet sound of skin against skin mixing with your ragged breathing.
Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in deeper, chasing the edge that was already creeping up on you. His hand snuck between your bodies, fingers finding that sensitive spot, circling, pressing, sending white-hot pleasure straight to your core.
"T-Tetsu—" you gasped, one hand flying to your mouth as your body trembled around him.
"That’s it," he groaned, fucking into you harder, faster. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it."
You were right there, so close, when—
Knock. Knock.
Your eyes shot open, panic freezing you in place.
"Tetsurō?" came the unmistakable voice of his older sister from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"
Kuroo barely faltered, grinning like the devil as he stilled inside you, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Yeah, be out in a sec," he called back easily, voice steady despite the fact that he was currently buried inside you.
His sister huffed. "Hurry up, it's time for cake. Also, where’s your wife?"
Your breath caught, but Kuroo? Unbothered.
"Dunno," he lied smoothly, thrusting into you just once, slow and teasing. "Maybe she got lost."
You bit your lip, glaring at him, nails digging into his shoulders.
His sister sighed. "Whatever. Just get your ass out here."
The second her footsteps faded down the hall, you swatted his arm, chest heaving.
"You are unbelievable."
Kuroo grinned, pulling back only to slam into you again, harder this time, forcing a muffled cry from your lips. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as your entire body clenched around him.
"That’s right," he whispered against your ear, his pace unrelenting, each thrust sharp and punishing. "You're shaking so much—gonna act like you don’t love this? Like you don’t get off on almost getting caught?"
You tried to glare at him, but with the way his cock was hitting that perfect spot inside you, all you could do was shudder, mouth parting in helpless gasps.
"Yeah, that’s what I thought," he taunted, watching the way your body twitched under him, the way you clung to him like you needed him to keep you from falling apart.
His fingers slid back between your legs, finding your swollen, desperate clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. The sudden sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, and you bit down hard on your own hand to keep from crying out.
"That close already?" he murmured, feeling the way your walls fluttered around him, the way your legs trembled around his waist. "Bet you love this, don’t you? Letting me fuck you like this when anyone could walk in."
You tried to protest, but all that came out was a broken moan, breathless and wrecked.
Kuroo chuckled, breath hot against your cheek. "No snarky comeback? No sarcasm? Baby, you’re too far gone to even argue, huh?"
His words only pushed you further, the tension inside you winding impossibly tight. His thrusts grew sharper, his fingers working you relentlessly until you finally shattered, your entire body convulsing as pleasure crashed over you.
Your orgasm triggered his, his rhythm stuttering as he groaned low against your skin, spilling deep inside you.
For a long moment, the only sound in the bathroom was your combined heavy breathing, the weight of what just happened settling between you.
Then, Kuroo smirked, pressing one last slow kiss to your jaw. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"
You barely had the strength to lift your head, your breath still coming in heavy, uneven pants. Swallowing hard, you managed to rasp, "Never again."
Kuroo only chuckled, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back. "Come on, there's cake."
You groaned, still trying to reassemble your thoughts, your body tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure. With shaky hands, you reached down, pulling up your panties—now soaked with his release—and quickly adjusted your dress, trying to look at least somewhat composed before stepping back out into the party.
Kuroo, the smug bastard, was already fixing his shirt, completely unbothered, his smirk not fading for even a second as he reached for the door handle. "Think Grandma will notice how wrecked you look?"
You swatted at him, glaring. "Shut up, Tetsurō."
But as you stepped out, legs still wobbly, Kuroo just shot you a knowing grin. "Too late. You already look guilty."
Koutaro loved being a father. He loved everything about it—the giggles, the tiny hands reaching for his, the way his child clung to his leg like a koala when he tried to leave for practice. He loved the sleepy, drooling cuddles, the way they cheered for him at games even when they barely understood what was going on, the pure adoration in their big, bright eyes.
He loved his family. He loved the life he had built with you.
But damn, he was dying to fuck his wife.
At first, it wasn’t so bad. The newborn stage had been exhausting, but you’d found your moments, stolen kisses between diaper changes and late-night feedings. But now? Now, his kid was everywhere.
Hina wanted to play all the time, wanted to be glued to your side, wanted to co-sleep every damn night. If he so much as kissed you for too long, tiny hands would push between you both, demanding attention. And the worst part? You loved it. You’d always been so patient with her, smiling when she pulled you away from him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before going to settle her back into bed. Meanwhile, Koutaro was left aching, frustrated, and wound up tighter than a spring.
The longing was getting unbearable. He needed you. Needed to feel your hands on him, your nails digging into his back, the press of your body against his without interruption.
So when he saw his chance—his first real chance in weeks—he pounced.
Hina was absorbed in her favorite cartoon, settled comfortably on the couch, giggling at the screen, completely distracted. And you? You were in the kitchen, slicing up fruit, completely alone.
Koutaro didn’t hesitate.
He moved in fast, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face against your neck, groaning dramatically. "Baby, I’m starving."
You laughed, not missing the way his hands wandered, sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing slow, teasing circles against your stomach. "I’m literally making you a snack right now."
"Not that kinda hungry," he murmured, lips grazing your ear, pressing his hips firmly against your ass so you could feel exactly what he meant.
You inhaled sharply, the knife in your hand faltering for just a second. "Koutaro—"
"C’mon, babe," he whined, rocking his hips just a little, making you shudder. "We can sneak upstairs. Just real quick. Ten minutes. No—five! I swear, I can be fast."
You snorted. "You’re never fast."
He grinned against your skin, his hands moving higher, palming your breasts, kneading them just the way he knew made you weak. "Fine, twenty minutes. But you have to be quiet."
You let out a soft, breathy moan, pressing back into him just enough to feel the hard, teasing drag of his body against yours. Your breathing picked up, your fingers gripping the counter as you leaned into his touch, heat pooling low in your stomach. "You’re terrible," you murmured, but there was no real bite to your words. Koutaro smirked against your neck, his hands squeezing your waist. He knew he had you.
Then—
"Mama! I want my fruit!"
Koutaro froze.
You quickly smoothed down your shirt, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear, forcing yourself to look composed.
Tiny feet pattered into the kitchen, and suddenly, Hina was wedging between you and Koutaro, tiny hands tugging at your shirt.
"Mama! I want fruit! And Daddy, come watch my show with me! My favorite episode is on!"
Koutaro exhaled sharply through his nose, closing his eyes for a long moment. Defeated.
You sigh, turning and pecking him on the cheek, grinning. "Guess duty calls, Daddy."
With a deep, exaggerated sigh, Koutaro stepped back, ruffling his child’s hair before lifting her into his arms. "Alright, alright. Let’s go watch your show."
As he walked away, he heard your muffled laughter from the kitchen, making his frustration spike. His fingers flexed against Hina’s back as he carried her, already thinking about revenge.
By the time he settled onto the couch with her, she was already chattering excitedly about her favorite episode, eyes glued to the screen. Koutaro, however, was fuming.
He turned back, just before disappearing into the living room, throwing you a desperate, betrayed look.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
---
Later that night, he was sure he was getting what he wanted.
Koutaro had planned it perfectly. He'd worn Hina out all day—a long walk, hours at the park, a warm bath, and a bedtime story that left her knocked out cold in her own bed. No way she was waking up tonight.
With a victorious smirk, he made his way to the bedroom, already anticipating the way you’d melt under his touch.
He stepped inside to find you standing by the dresser, slipping into one of his old shirts for bed. Your hair was slightly damp from your shower, skin soft, glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
You turned at the sound of the door clicking shut, raising a brow as he stalked toward you. "Where’s Hina?"
"In her own bed," he murmured, voice low, confident. "Sleeping like a log."
Before you could react, his hands were on your waist, pulling you against him. He kissed you like he hadn’t kissed you in months—deep, needy, filled with everything he’d been holding back.
You gasped softly, but you didn’t hesitate, your arms looping around his neck as you pressed back into him, matching his intensity, his hunger. His hands roamed your body, fingers trailing down your spine, squeezing at your hips, touching you like he was trying to make up for lost time.
His mouth moved to your jaw, then your neck, and he groaned as his fingers slid beneath the hem of your shirt, moving lower, lower—
Knock, knock.
A tiny, tearful voice called from the hallway. "Mama? Daddy?"
You and Koutaro froze.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, still tangled together, his breath heavy against your skin.
Then, he pulled back just enough to stare at you, eyes filled with sheer, soul-crushing defeat.
You smirked, barely able to contain your amusement. "Like a log, huh?"
His expression darkened, and you couldn't help it—you burst into laughter.
Groaning, Koutaro dropped his forehead against your shoulder, completely deflated.
Another knock. "Mamaaa…"
With a deep sigh, you both quickly fixed yourselves up before Koutaro trudged to the door, opening it to reveal Hina standing there, rubbing her sleepy little eyes, sniffling.
"Had a bad dream, baby?" you cooed, crouching down to brush her hair back gently.
She nodded, sniffling again before reaching up toward Koutaro. "Can I sleep with you and Mama?"
He glanced over at you, looking so damn resigned, so utterly defeated.
You grinned, shrugging. "Guess duty calls again, Daddy."
Letting out the most dramatic sigh of his life, Koutaro scooped her up, carrying her to the bed. He flopped onto the mattress, his dream of having you to himself completely shattered as she snuggled between you both.
As you reached over to turn off the light, you caught Koutaro’s stare from across the pillow—his desperate, betrayed look that all but screamed: This isn’t over.
But hours later, it was still keeping him awake.
He laid there in the dark, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his body tense with frustration. Every single attempt at having you to himself had been shut down, and now, with his daughter nestled comfortably between you both, it felt like the final nail in his coffin.
Except—he wasn’t giving up. Not tonight.
Slowly, he turned his head, glancing at Hina. Her breathing was steady, deep, completely out. Koutaro stayed still for a few more moments, just to be sure, before carefully, painstakingly, peeling himself away from the bed.
You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but he was already leaning in, brushing his lips against your ear. "Baby… come with me."
You blinked groggily, barely registering his voice. "Kou…?"
"Shhh," he whispered, his hand warm against your waist. "Come on. Just trust me."
Still half-asleep, you let him pull you up, letting him lead you quietly, carefully out of the bedroom. As soon as you both stepped into the dimly lit living room, you rubbed at your eyes, yawning. "Koutaro… what’s going on?"
But he didn’t answer with words.
Instead, he tilted your chin up, trailing soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, whispering against your skin. "We just need to be quiet."
Your breath hitched, your drowsiness evaporating in an instant as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him.
You gasped softly, but the second his mouth found that sensitive spot just beneath your ear, you melted into him. "Koutaro, you’re insatiable…"
He grinned, his fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your shirt as he guided you toward the couch. "Missed you too much, baby. Can’t wait anymore."
And as he pressed you down onto the cushions, settling between your legs, he whispered again, "Just keep quiet for me, yeah?"
You barely had a chance to respond before his hand slipped between your legs, fingertips tracing along your inner thigh, teasing, taking his time. You shivered, your legs instinctively parting wider for him, and he let out a quiet, pleased hum.
"That’s it, baby," he murmured against your ear, his fingers brushing over your underwear, pressing against the heat already pooling there. "You’re already so wet for me. Missed this, huh?"
You bit your lip, nodding as you arched into his touch, barely suppressing a gasp when he slid his fingers under the fabric, stroking you slow, deliberate.
"Koutaro—"
"Shhh, baby," he whispered, his other hand coming up to gently cover your mouth. "Gotta stay quiet, remember?"
Your head tipped back against the couch as he slid a finger inside, curling just right, dragging along that spot that had you nearly choking on your moans. When he added a second, his pace deep and unrelenting, your thighs clamped around his hand, body trembling under his touch.
"Feel good?" he asked, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. "Bet you’ve been needing this just as bad as I have."
You could barely nod, barely breathe, your chest rising and falling in uneven gasps as he worked you open, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Wanna come for me, baby?" His voice was low, coaxing, filthy. "I can feel you squeezing me—go ahead, let go. Just be quiet."
You whined against his palm, your whole body tensing as pleasure crashed over you, your walls pulsing around his fingers as you came, thighs shaking.
Koutaro groaned, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he helped you ride it out.
"Good girl," he whispered, nuzzling against your temple. "That’s my girl."
Before you could fully come down, he was shifting, gripping your hips, lining himself up.
"K-Koutaro—"
He pushed in, slow, deep, deliberate, and you nearly sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure. Your walls clenched around him, so tight, so warm, making his breath stutter against your skin.
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your back arching as he bottomed out, his size stretching you perfectly. The sensation was too much, so intense it sent tears flooding your eyes.
Koutaro kissed them away, murmuring against your skin, "Needed this, baby. Needed you. So bad."
His thrusts were slow, deep, each roll of his hips pressing right where you needed him most. You were drowning in the feeling, in the weight of him, in the way he moved inside you like he was savoring every second.
You wanted to cry out, to let him know just how good he was making you feel, but his hand was quick to cover your mouth again, muffling your desperate whimpers.
"Shhh, baby," he whispered, voice strained, nearly breaking from how good you felt around him. "Can’t have Hina hearing, right? Just be good for me, just take it—"
And you did. You took all of him, his slow, aching thrusts sending you spiraling, pulling you under, dragging out every bit of pleasure until you couldn’t hold it anymore.
"Koutaro—oh god—"
"I got you," he whispered, gripping your waist tighter, his hips stuttering as he felt you clamp down around him. "Come with me, baby. Let go."
The second your body tensed, walls pulsing around him, he followed, groaning as he spilled deep inside you, burying his face against your neck as he let go completely.
For a long moment, neither of you moved.
Just the sound of ragged breathing, the quiet hum of the house, the lingering warmth of each other.
Then—
A soft shuffling noise. A tiny, sleepy voice.
"Mama? Daddy?"
Your entire body locked up, heart stopping, breath catching in your throat.
Koutaro went completely still, eyes widening in horror.
Another rustling noise. "Mamaaa… where’d you go?"
You whipped your head around, eyes darting to the hallway, panic surging through you. Koutaro’s mind raced, searching for an escape, an excuse, anything.
Then—quick as lightning—he peeked his head up over the couch, calling out in the most casual voice he could muster—
"Just helping Mommy look for something, sweetheart! We’ll be back in bed soon!"
Your face burned.
Hina yawned, rubbing her sleepy little eyes, looking far too tired to question anything. "Okay… hurry up, ‘kay?"
"We will, baby," you managed to choke out. "Go back to bed, we’ll be right there."
She sniffled, nodded, and padded back down the hall.
The second she was gone, you collapsed against Koutaro’s chest, smacking his shoulder. "You absolute menace."
He groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I can’t live like this."
You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair. "That’s why I asked my parents to take her for the weekend."
Koutaro froze.
Then, slowly, he lifted his head, staring at you like you’d just given him the greatest gift of his life.
Without another word, he nuzzled into you, wrapping you up in his arms like he never wanted to let go. "I love you so much."
You smiled, cuddling into his warmth, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "I love you too."