#this was supposed to be a quick pwp
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rafyki · 7 months ago
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Am I good at writing smut? No, not really
Will that stop me from writing shameless Percico smut? Also no.
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cinderflower · 3 months ago
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A new MalMiq fic I've been working on is now up! (18+, ~5k)
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passthroughtime · 4 months ago
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a sudden sunday kuwagami
been tagged by @jichanxo, @phantasy14 & @overdevelopedglasses
i hate my writing with burning passion atm (friendly reminder that if you have something to say about my wip, please say it, it really helps), so i decided to touch up some old drafts i have, with nothing special happening there as well. you know what this one is
Kuwana’s eyes light up with curiosity, and he puts his hand on the side of Yagami’s face, forcing him to look at him. Yagami shivers, his fists grip the blanket like a lifeline. Never before has Kuwana’s touch been that velvety soft. Yagami leans into it and closes his eyes, hating himself for it. He is a weak, weak man.
“Oh, Yagami,” the smug asshole says, caressing his cheek with a thumb gently, “do you need something from me? You can just ask.”
Yagami bites his lip, so he won’t physically be able to say anything. This is awful. He hates how little his body needs to react this way.
Kuwana hums and, shuffling closer, presses his lips to Yagami’s forehead. With a gasp, all self-respect leaves Yagami, and he leans to Kuwana’s neck for a kiss or a bite, but, from a lack of energy, settles on a wet touch. At least this, he thinks, mouthing at the neck helplessly, his breathing ragged, embarrassed from a thought that there is an actual possibility here for him to get off on this.
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trancowboy · 1 year ago
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A Place Out West by charlesdk
Word Count: 12k Rating: Explicit Pairing: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Summary:
The tales of the masked rider on a silver steed were so vague that after two months of searching, Luke started wondering if Din was even real at all or if he had been a mere figment of his desperate and lonely imagination. But he dreamed of him. Oh, he dreamed of him often. He longed for him, yearned for him, his touch, his weight, his presence. He wanted to find him, and find him he would.
- Sequel to Chasin’ The Horizon
Read on AO3.
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depriviolent · 8 months ago
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if no one got me i know the ppl who can stand rick sanchez AND him being trans AND him being horny enough to read my stupidly long fics got me
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c4tto626 · 8 months ago
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hm. starting to think this might crack 10k 🙃
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yellowloid · 2 years ago
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the tags on your fic…like yes I am ready I am to eat thank you for your tireless work god bless
smdkjfskdjsj omg thanks!!!!!! i really hope you'll enjoy it!!!!! 💖💖
the actual smut will only come in the second part bc i'm a bitch BUT what i can say is. it's the longest AND the most graphic smut i've written so far ;)
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etherrreal · 4 months ago
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"an inconvenient attachment"
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Pairing: sae x fem!reader Genre: fluff with smut, fwb to lovers, minors dni! Summary: what you and sae have is completely casual— or at least it’s supposed to be. he’s fine with it at first, until he starts to realize how much he actually likes being around you. now he’s starting to wonder if casual is enough. WC: 20k+ (haha, i’m in danger) Warnings: nsfw, some pwp (mostly plot though), alcohol, casual/no strings sex (until it isn’t 😉), car sex, fingering, light choking, reader and sae are in their mid-20s, reader is also incredibly forward and kind of shameless lmao, pro!athlete sae, big time jealousy, misunderstandings, lots of pining but also lots of denial, sae being annoying and bad at feelings but also very much into you A/N: watched bluelock for the first time this past year and immediately fell victim to the itoshi brothers. consider this an ode to my suffering <3 -Dawn
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Sae doesn’t really know what the two of you are to each other.
He knows you hate driving in the rain and love reading at the park, just like he knows how you take your coffee and what your voice sounds like when you first wake up in the morning, all sleepy and soft.
He also knows what you look like tangled in the sheets of his bed, just like he knows how to make you fall apart with his mouth and hands and tongue. He takes pleasure in leaving you bleary-eyed and breathless, in watching you grip at his sheets and drag your nails across his skin as you say his name again and again.
But when it comes to your current relationship, to what the two of you actually mean to each other? Sae has no idea. You’ve never bothered to put a label on it. He figures you’ve never felt the need to, even though normally you’re the kind of person who labels everything, from the colorful tabs in your planner to the glass containers in your pantry.
Not that Sae has any room to judge. He hasn’t made much of an effort to define things between you, either. He’s not one for titles or attachments, least of all romantic ones. He never has been, and that’s something he made clear to you from the beginning, long before the two of you ever shared a bed and started whatever the hell this thing is that exists between you now.
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If he’s being honest, Sae didn’t really think much of you at first. He remembers meeting you, completely against his will, at a party he never wanted to attend in the first place, one that his teammates insisted on dragging him to.
In the beginning, you were just another face in the crowd, the best friend of Aina, Oliver’s notorious on-again, off-again girlfriend.
Sae never planned on seeing you again, much less actually getting to know you. In fact, he was fully content to forget you completely, but he couldn’t. And it wasn’t because he had a change of heart or because he was particularly interested in you, but because you made it practically impossible to ignore you.
You, with your ridiculous laugh and your know-it-all demeanor and your unreasonably animated way of talking. It’s no surprise that you were an instant hit amongst his teammates. They all took to you right away, captivated by your quick comebacks and witty humor, by your easy confidence and natural charm.
And though Sae will never say it out loud, he could admit, even back then, that he understood the appeal, at least in a general sense. You’re smart and funny, not to mention daring and lively, with the kind of effortless charisma that makes everyone want to be around you.
You laugh at his dry humor and unapologetic bluntness, but you also don’t hesitate to call him out when he’s being a dick. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re completely gorgeous, either, a vision in smooth satin and shimmery lip gloss whenever he sees you on nights when his teammates actually manage to bully him out of his apartment.
Soon you’re everywhere, laughing during game nights at Oliver’s place and rolling your eyes in the background of Shidou’s Instagram stories. Sae doesn’t accept their invitations to go out too often, but when he does, you’re always there, just as much a part of the group as everyone else is— even more than Sae is, most of the time.
You cheer him and the rest of the team on at games, send him new recipes to try and stupid videos he only sometimes replies to.
And inconveniently, inevitably, you start to grow on him.
Then one night, against his better judgment, he offers to drive you home from the bar, and to his surprise, you accept.
Sae’s not entirely sure why he does it. After all, it’s unlike him to inconvenience himself or go out of his way for the sake of others. But then he remembers the cheeky way you were acting with him earlier and decides it’s worth it, if only to see what you’ll do.
There’s always been a certain kind of tension between you and Sae, an unspoken chemistry neither of you has ever been able to replicate with anyone else. He’s never acted on it, of course. He’s never felt the need to, until now.
You’ve been flirting with him even more than usual tonight, brushing your hand against his arm and leaning in close to whisper in his ear. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.
Sae has always appreciated how forward you are, how honest. You’re the kind of person who always speaks your mind, who never hesitates to go after what you want. It’s part of what makes him respect you so much.
It’s also why he doesn’t bother to stop you. Why he doesn’t push you away from him, no matter how close you get or how bold your hands become. It does something to him, he realizes, having you touch him so casually. Makes him possessive in a way he never expected he’d be over anyone, least of all you.
Still, he doesn’t take it as anything more than what it is. You’re always like this, all playful and coy, especially after you've had a shot or two. He knows better than to think it means anything. He takes it upon himself to drive you home anyway, the idea of you being so casual and touchy with any of his other teammates leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
You look unfairly beautiful sitting in the passenger seat of his car, all smooth skin and smokey eyes, jacket sliding halfway off your shoulders as you wave your hands around and tell a story he’s only half-listening to. You’re absolutely stunning and therefore annoyingly distracting, not that he’ll ever grant you the satisfaction of telling you that himself.
The lot behind your building is quiet when he pulls his car in, empty. You unbuckle your seatbelt and thank him for driving you home, but make no move to leave.
Sae notices but doesn’t call you out on it, dismissing your gratitude with his usual impassiveness. He also doesn’t stop you when you reach out to touch him. Your fingers brush against his collar, smoothing over the fabric on his shoulder.
He has makeup on his shirt, you tell him. It’s yours, of course, the shade of the smudge an identical match to the color staining your lips. It must’ve happened when you leaned in to talk to him earlier.
Sae isn’t surprised. You’re the only person he lets be that close to him, the only person he wants that close. And right now, you’re smiling like you already know, like you revel in it.
“Sorry about that,” you say, without an ounce of guilt in your voice, dragging your nail over the stain.
Sae watches the way you watch him, the way your eyes drift down to stare at his lips. There’s something wanting and possessive in your gaze, something he thinks has been there for a while now. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re right.” The laugh you give is shameless, your smile brazen as you move your hand from his shoulder to his chest, fingertips skimming against the buttons of his shirt. “I’m not.”
You kiss him, then, a heated and hungry thing as bold and unapologetic as you are. He surprises himself by letting you, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth, a calloused hand moving up to cradle your jaw.
Soon you’re kicking off your heels and shrugging off your jacket, tossing it blindly into the backseat and climbing over the center console. You settle into his lap like you belong there, straddling his thighs with your bare knees. He trails his lips along your throat and chest, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your heated skin and pulling down the front of your dress so he can reach more of you.
His hands push the skirt of your dress up and over your hips, palms smoothing over your skin, and you tug at his hair, pressing your body firmly against his. The movement is exactly what you both need, your hips grinding into his lap.
You both groan when the head of his cock catches against your clothed center. You roll your hips into his again, chasing the friction, his grip on your hips turning bruising.
Sae presses a hand between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, just enough to run a finger along your slit and gather the wetness there. He lets out a strained curse and drags his teeth along your throat when he feels how warm and wanting you already are, all because of him.
That’s all the convincing he needs to fuck you open with his fingers, while you grind yourself down against his hand, making breathy little sounds in his ear that he decides he wants to hear more of. You undo the buttons of his shirt and tear the material open, hands roaming over his chest as much as the limited space will allow.
It’s not long after that you decide you want more, undoing the button of his pants and yanking down his zipper with little restraint. He mutters something about you being an impatient brat under his breath, but he doesn't stop you.
Instead, he lets you pull his leaking cock out and wrap your hand around his shaft. He bites back a groan as you squeeze him at the base and move your hand up and down in slow, even strokes, smearing precum along the length of him.
You surge forward to kiss him again, and it’s all Sae can do to meet you halfway, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gasp against his lips. You cling to his shoulders and whisper into his ear, telling him how good he feels, how badly you want him inside of you— all of him, this time, not just his fingers.
Your words go straight to his already painfully hard cock, making him buck up into your hand and reach out blindly for the condoms he keeps in his car. You end up beating him to it, fumbling for only a moment before pulling one out of your purse and tearing the packet open with your teeth.
You don’t waste any more time after that, rolling the condom down over his length while Sae slips his fingers out of you and plants his hands on either side of your waist. You line him up with your entrance and sink yourself onto him with a gasp, hips pressing flush against his as you moan and dig your nails into his skin. He tightens his grip on your waist and muffles his own moan against your lips, the kiss he presses to your mouth all tongue and teeth.
You ride him, head thrown back and lips parted, while he leans back to watch you with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of you fucking yourself on his cock and pushing his hips up to meet yours.
You look absolutely breathtaking, hips rolling and circling as you gasp out his name and tell him how deep he is and how good he’s making you feel. One of his hands presses against your throat while the other squeezes at your hip, helping you lift yourself up and sink back down to take more of him.
With his lips mouthing at your neck and his thumb drifting down to rub circles into your clit, it isn’t long before you find yourself tipping over the edge. He follows you almost immediately after, spurred on by the scrape of your nails against his scalp and the tightening of your walls around him.
You’re both panting when it’s over, foreheads pressed together and hearts racing as you slump against one another and try to catch your breath. You recover faster than he does and press a parting kiss to his lips that feels almost too sweet after what you’ve just done, climbing off his lap and over the console on shaky legs.
You almost slip when you do, his hand shooting out to steady you at the last second. You laugh while he rolls his eyes and tells you to be more careful, keeping his hand on your hip until finally you settle back safely into the passenger seat.
You’re both quiet as you set to work on fixing your clothing and cleaning yourselves up, redoing zippers and clasping buttons in an effort to make yourselves look presentable again.
Sae finds himself grateful for the silence. It gives him the chance to process exactly what’s just happened between you, and —more importantly— to decide what’s going to happen after.
The sex was good, obviously. Better than good. The best he’s had in a while, maybe even the best he’s had ever— though he thinks he’d rather die than be caught saying any of that out loud. He imagines it must’ve been the same for you, if the way you moaned his name and fell apart around him are anything to go by.
Still, Sae knows himself, which is why he knows better than to allow it to mean anything. He doesn’t need a relationship right now, nor does he particularly want one. He likes you well enough, in a way that makes him view you as slightly less irritating than he does everyone else— but wanting you and wanting to be with you are two very different things.
And at this point in his life, Sae doesn’t want to actually be with anyone, not even you. He doesn’t have the time for it, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have the patience.
Sure, he’s dated before, but it was never anything serious. Never anything real. All of his previous relationships —if one could even call them that— were just for show, nothing more than publicity stunts orchestrated by his PR team with models and socialites he’s never really cared about.
Most of them understood the arrangement quite well, knowing it wouldn’t last. Some of them didn’t and tried to make it into something more, but it’s never worked. Sae’s never allowed it. As a result, he’s become an expert at shutting people down, at crushing their hopes of receiving anything more than what he’s willing to give them.
He tells you as much after you’re both dressed again, fully prepared to disappoint you and the hopes you’ve no doubt allowed to build freely inside your head. He’s not cruel enough to say it in a way that hurts you —at least not on purpose— but he wants to be honest. The last thing he needs is for you to get the wrong idea and start thinking that this is going to change anything between you.
“You should know,” he starts, serious and stoic as ever, “I’m not looking for a relationship. The only thing I’m interested in right now is soccer.”
He pauses, bracing himself for your reaction, for the moment when his words finally sink in and you realize that he has no intention of taking this any further. He watches your face carefully, mentally preparing himself for what he knows is going to be the inevitable fallout.
He’s spent enough time with you by now to know you’re not really the crying type, so he’s comfortable with knowing that he at least won’t see any tears. He does, however, expect some swearing on your part, maybe even a little bit of yelling, just enough to let him know that you think he’s an asshole.
To Sae’s surprise, none of that happens. There’s no anger, no confrontation, no fallout. Instead of shouting at him and telling him to go fuck himself, the way he initially expected you to, you smile at him and slip the straps of your dress back up over your shoulders, nodding like this is exactly what you were expecting, like you couldn’t agree more.
“Yeah, I figured as much,” you say, laughing lightly, casually, as you finish readjusting the rest of your clothing. “Your emotional unavailability kind of gave it away. Well, that and your apathy, though I’m starting to think the latter is less of a relationship deterrent and more of just you being yourself.”
You aren’t wrong, of course, but the bluntness of your words still makes him scowl, which in turn just makes you laugh even more.
“Hey, I never said I didn’t like it.” You slip your heels on your feet and lean down to secure the straps, though not before sending him a teasing grin from over your shoulder. “I’ll have you know, emotionally unavailable and apathetic is exactly my type. Helps if they have pretty eyes and great hair, too.”
Predictably, Sae ignores your blatant flirting in favor of rolling his eyes. Still, he doesn’t hesitate to help when he sees you struggling to retrieve your jacket from the backseat, reaching behind him to grab it and offering it to you with ease.
“Seems like an easy way to get yourself hurt,” he deadpans, before you get the chance to thank him.
“You’re such a pessimist, Sae.” You roll your eyes at his response, but the smile you give as you take your jacket from him is grateful and genuine. “My point is, if you’re worried about me reading into things, don’t be. I’m not expecting anything from you. If we’re being honest, I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, either.”
He knows you mean it —you’re too honest not to— but he raises an eyebrow at you, anyway, examining you carefully for even the slightest hint of doubt.
“So you’re really okay with things staying the same between us?”
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I wasn’t. But you have my number if you ever want to do this again.”
You gather the rest of your things before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. It’s light and offhanded, free of any pressure or expectations. Then you smile at him, lifting your hand to give a little wave.
“I’ll see you later, Sae.”
You leave his car with that smile still on your face and your purse in your hand. He watches you go, not taking his eyes off of you until you make it inside your building. You don’t turn back to look at him once.
And though he tries not to —though he likes to believe he’s above such baseless, lukewarm desires— he thinks about your offer on the way home.
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It doesn’t take him long to make up his mind.
He texts you three days later. The messages are short and to the point —boring, he knows you’d call them— just a simple ’hey’ followed by a blunt ’wanna come over?’ that he regrets sending almost immediately after it goes through, mostly because he knows you’re never going to let him live it down.
You don’t disappoint, replying back a few minutes later with a ’damn already??’ and an ’it was that good huh 😏😌🤪’ that he pointedly ignores. He threatens to block you, you laugh at the message, and less than an hour later, you’re at his door.
This time, Sae’s the one who kisses you first, easing you onto his bed and pushing your thighs apart so he can slot himself between them. His lips trail down your neck, his teeth nipping at your throat. His hands are everywhere, roaming over your body and helping you slip out of your clothes until you’re completely bare beneath him.
He makes you cum twice with his mouth, another time with his fingers— and only then does he finally slide himself into you, hands gripping your thighs and chest pressing into yours.
Practice was cut short today in favor of a press conference Sae couldn’t have cared less about, so he has a lot of pent-up energy, which he immediately sets on using to throw your legs over his shoulders and thoroughly fuck you into his mattress.
You don’t complain about it, either, too lost in the pleasure of it all to scold him for the tight grip he has on your hips or the way he’s nearly folding you in half beneath him. You even make a joke about it afterwards, muttering something about how they should cancel his practices more often.
“But only on the weekends,” you add seriously, trying to catch your breath. “The last thing I need is my co-workers watching me wobble into my office because of it.”
Sae actually laughs, though he tries not to. You beam at the sound, only to end up flipping him off moments later, when you rise on trembling legs in search of your clothes and catch him smirking knowingly at you.
And it’s simple, he thinks, doing this with you. Simple and comfortable and not the least bit complicated, which is exactly how he likes it.
You must feel the same way, because the next time it happens, you’re the one who calls first, inviting him up to your apartment and latching your lips to his neck before he’s even fully through the door.
You never really talk about it, nor do you establish any real boundaries beyond that initial conversation you had that first night in his car, but Sae figures you don’t really need to. It goes without saying that this thing between you is completely casual, just a way to satisfy your physical needs and work off some stress whenever you both need it.
Neither of you wants an actual relationship, but that doesn’t mean you’re opposed to sleeping together every now and then, especially when the sex is as good as it’s been. So you keep at it, meeting up whenever you have some free time and fucking until you’ve both had your fill, all without ever expecting anything more.
Sae doesn’t tell anyone about your arrangement. Neither do you. You both agree it’s easier that way, in the name of keeping things smooth and uncomplicated.
He’s not ashamed of what the two of you are doing —he knows you aren’t, either— but neither one of you wants the headache of having to explain it to the well-intentioned but ultimately chronic meddlers you call your friends. So you keep it to yourselves, treating each other the same way you normally would without any extra consideration or kindness.
You both get really good at it, too, maintaining your composure no matter how many stupid and suggestive comments Shidou and Oliver make about the mystery girl he’s always texting, or how often Aina bugs you to show her a picture of the guy she swears has got you dickmatized.
Sae’s sure they have their suspicions, but he knows that he isn’t among them. As far as everyone else is concerned, you and him are just friends, even if you do have a habit of getting a little handsy whenever you think no one is looking.
It helps that you’ve been shamelessly flirting with him since the day you met, so no one ever bats an eye when they see you brushing your hand against his chest or leaning in close to whisper in his ear. Everyone just assumes that it’s you being your normal, bold and affectionate self, and that Sae —moody, stoic, emotionless Sae— will brush it off and ignore you the way he always does.
They have no idea that as soon as you’re alone, the exact opposite happens. That he’s trailing his lips along your neck and sliding his hands up your skirt, while you lock your legs around his waist and pull him in closer, the way you’ve been doing for weeks now.
Sae’s honestly a little surprised no one’s figured it out yet. More than that, though, he’s shocked that he’s still hooking up with you at all.
It’s not like him to stick with someone for so long, especially without his manager breathing down his neck to keep it up for the publicity. He thought your arrangement would last a week, maybe two weeks, tops— but here you both are, still going nearly two months later, with no signs of stopping anytime soon.
He was so sure he’d be bored of it by now, but he isn’t. He can’t be, not with you. You’re too good at distracting him. You’re even better at making him trust you.
And the more time he spends with you, the more he realizes just how easy it is to be around you.
The thing about Sae is that he’s never really been the kind of person who has a lot of friends. He has his teammates and his manager, his parents and sometimes his brother, but he’s never had someone who wasn’t obligated to be around him. Never someone who didn’t expect anything of him.
You, though— you spend time with him on purpose, not because of anything he can give you. Even if this thing between you ends tomorrow, Sae knows it wouldn’t change anything.
You’d still be there, still without expecting anything, because that’s just who you are. Because for some odd reason, you actually like being around him, despite his attitude and his indifference, despite all the things his teammates and the media are always giving him shit for.
He thinks you’ve always liked being around him, even before you started sleeping together. He knows he doesn’t make it easy, but you’re patient with him despite that, giving him space when he needs it and pushing him when he doesn’t.
And he’ll never say it out loud, but the truth is, he likes being around you, too. Almost enough to make him forget that this thing you have is only temporary.
Almost.
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The first time you stay the night happens a week later.
You’re both in his bed, all bare skin and tangled sheets as you come down from your respective highs and try to catch your breath. Outside his penthouse, the rain drones on, quieting the city below you into a nearly imperceptible hum.
It’s well past midnight, so late that it’s early, and sure, Sae might be an asshole— but he’s not cruel enough to make you drive home in the rain, especially when he knows how much you hate it.
“You can sleep here if you want,” he says, without thinking much of it, right as you sit up to start looking for your clothes.
Understandably, the offer catches you off guard. Even in the dark, Sae can see the way you turn back and blink owlishly at him, eyebrows raised, like it’s the last thing you expected him to say.
It’s kind of annoying, honestly, the way you’re looking at him right now. He knows he’s far from being the most considerate person in your life, but the way you’re gawking at him like he’s grown a second head feels a little dramatic.
Not that he can really blame you for being surprised. You’ve been hooking up almost daily for two months now, but not once during that time have either of you ever spent the night at the other’s place.
Something about it feels different. More intimate, somehow, like it’s crossing a line that’s supposed to be there, if only the two of you had bothered to draw it in the first place.
Sae realizes it at the same time you do and finds himself regretting making the offer at all. He’s accepted the fact that the two of you are friends —albeit begrudgingly— but the last thing he wants is for you to think he meant anything by it.
“Or don’t,” he adds quickly, careful to keep his tone as blank and detached as possible. “It’s up to you. I don’t really care either way.”
From the corner of his eye, he watches you spare a glance at the window. The rain is still going, pouring unforgivingly against the glass, and it only seems to be getting worse.
The rumble of thunder that follows shortly after is enough to convince you to accept his offer. You shrug, murmuring a quiet thanks before laying back down and making yourself comfortable next to him.
Predictably, he says nothing in response to your gratitude. He moves over to give you some space and lets you tuck yourself back under the blanket, shutting his eyes as he settles onto his back.
When he feels your gaze on him moments later, he frowns, cracking an eye open to look at you. Sure enough, you’re staring right at him, a knowing, borderline smug smile on your face that lets him know you’re going to be completely insufferable about this.
“Don’t,” he warns, before you can even get a word out.
You have the audacity to look offended. “Wha— I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“Didn’t have to. Your face is saying plenty.”
He throws an arm over his eyes and does his best to ignore you, hoping you’ll get bored enough with his inattention to let the whole thing go.
(You don’t, of course, but he supposes you wouldn’t be you if you did.)
In the end, it’s Sae who gives in first, uncovering his eyes against his better judgment and turning to face you with a scowl.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you’re quick to reply, even as that smug little smile of yours curls into a grin. “I’m just— I’m surprised you offered to let me stay, is all. It’s not what I was expecting.”
“Yeah, well, it was either that or wake up tomorrow to a ten-minute voice note complaining about how shitty your drive home was and how close you were to death.” He turns on his side, shifting so he can face you fully. “I figured if I was going to be annoyed anyway, I might as well get it out of the way now.”
That earns him a smack to the shoulder, along with a scowl meant to convey how unamused you are with his words. He can only hope you’re too busy rolling your eyes to catch the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards, barely suppressing a smile.
“You’re a dick. And for the record, if I did decide to grace you with one of my exciting and wonderfully detailed voice notes, it would’ve been five, maybe six minutes, max.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing you, and you sigh in defeat, relenting.
“Okay, fine, six and a half, but can you blame me? I hate driving in the rain. It’s scary and disorienting, and I always get paranoid that I’m gonna—”
“Spin out and end up on the side of the road,” Sae says, at the exact same time you do, making your eyes widen. “I know. I remember.”
And the crazy part is, he does. He remembers because he knows you, probably better than he knows anybody else, and it’s only now when he’s lying here with you, practically nose-to-nose in the dark, that he realizes just how much.
He’s not sure how or when it happened, but it did. And now, he knows you. He really, really knows you, enough to accept your good-natured teasing and playful smugness, enough to consider your comfort and offer you a place in his bed.
And honestly? He has no idea how the hell he’s supposed to feel about that, so he ignores it entirely, the same way he ignored how his stomach fluttered and his chest warmed when you showed up with a bag of groceries and made him dinner earlier, for no discernable reason other than the fact that you wanted to spend time with him.
His only consolation is that you seem to be as surprised by it as he is. He watches as you blink at him in the dark, wide-eyed and a little stunned, like you’re seeing him for the first time.
Then you smile at him, soft and sweet, and Sae feels something in his stomach shift all over again, something warm and unfamiliar he can’t name and honestly doesn’t think he wants to.
“And here I thought sleepovers were against our unofficial rules,” you tease, nudging his leg with your own. “You getting soft on me, Itoshi?”
“You wish,” he denies, scoffing for good measure. “This is a one-time thing. I’ll be back to my usual asshole self in the morning.”
“Bummer.” You nuzzle your face into the pillow beneath your head, stifling a yawn that betrays how tired you really are. “I kind of like you like this.”
“You like me naked and annoyed?”
“No, dummy. I meant sweet and concerned. It’s a surprisingly good look on you. A rare one, but a good one.” You close your eyes, lips curling into a playful smile. “Naked’s a pretty close second, though.”
In response, he flicks your forehead with his thumb and forefinger. You make a noise of protest but keep your eyes shut, swatting blindly at his hand, and for that, he finds himself grateful. He doesn’t think he’ll ever live it down if you catch the way his lips twitch into a smile.
“Just shut up and go to sleep, you little pervert.”
For once, you actually listen to him, bidding him a drowsy “goodnight” and knocking out almost immediately after. He falls asleep not long after you do, drifting off to the sound of your steady breathing and the patter of midnight rain.
Sae wakes before you the next morning, and the first thing he notices is how much closer you are to him now than when you fell asleep.
He’s not sure how it happened, but it seems that somehow over the course of the night, you’ve managed to curl yourself into his side. Now, your head is resting comfortably on his chest, your hand splayed against the muscles of his abdomen.
Sae wishes he could blame the new and compromising position solely on you, but sadly he can’t. At least not when he looks down and finds that his own traitorous arm has wrapped itself around your waist to keep you pressed against him, one of his legs tangled with yours.
It’s cuddly and intimate and most definitely against the unofficial rules of your arrangement, but still, he can’t find it in himself to wake you. He doesn’t shove you off, either, even though he knows he should, half because he thinks he’d rather die than talk to you about this and half because he doesn’t hate it nearly as much as he thought it would.
You’re pretty like this, Sae thinks distantly, completely unprovoked. You always are, but you’re softer when you’re asleep, more relaxed. It’s different from the version of you he’s used to, the one that’s loud and a little bit unruly, who talks a mile a minute and knocks back caffeine like it’s water because she always has a million different things to do.
He never imagined he’d get the chance to see you like this, all delicate and vulnerable. He never imagined he would want to, or that looking at you would make him feel this way, warm and fond and ridiculous. Human, too, in the way he so often likes to forget he is.
He spends longer than he should taking in the curve of your lips, the slope of your cheek. He untangles himself from you as carefully as he can manage and forces himself out of bed before he does something really stupid, like brush your hair out of your face or swipe his thumb against your cheek.
Sae takes a cold shower and runs through what’s left of his morning routine, willing all the strange thoughts he’s having about you to disappear.
It works for the most part, until you come padding into the kitchen and join him at the counter like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You’re bare-faced and sleepy, dressed in one of his t-shirts and the sweatpants he let you borrow last night, glasses perched on the bridge of your nose and your hair pulled up and away from your face. He thinks fleetingly that it’s the cutest you’ve ever looked, which is not only ridiculous but also so unlike him that he has to resist the urge to vomit right then and there.
Somehow he manages, handing you a cup of steaming coffee as soon as you approach. You take it from him without hesitation, accepting the drink with a grateful smile and murmuring a quiet good morning.
If you’re surprised by the gesture, you don’t show it, too busy sipping gingerly at your coffee and letting it wake you up. Then you’re launching into your usual upbeat chatter, this time about your job and the co-worker who you swear you’re one “as per my last email” away from fist-fighting in the conference room.
It’s normal enough to distract him, allowing him to push away the memory of how you woke up this morning and all the sappy shit he’s been thinking about you as a result.
He almost forgets about it entirely, until later that night when he slips into bed and catches the scent of your shampoo on his pillow.
That’s when his mind begins to drift, completely against his will. He starts remembering all sorts of unwelcome things, like the weight of you in his arms, the curve of your lashes against your cheek, how tempted he was to brush your hair out of your face and pull you closer—
Sae huffs and flips the pillow over, somewhere between confused and annoyed, though whether it’s with you or himself, he isn’t sure.
He turns around and closes his eyes, forcing himself to sleep, but the thought of you lingers.
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It’s Aina —and, by default, Oliver— who finds out first.
It happens on a Saturday morning, nearly four months into your arrangement with Sae. Aina shows up at your apartment completely unannounced, with a tray of coffee and a surprisingly dutiful Oliver in tow, carrying the rest of the bags. (Apparently, it’s an on-week for them.)
They mean to surprise you with breakfast, hoping to convince you over french toast and scrambled eggs to put a pause on your ‘no relationships allowed’ policy and agree to a double date with one of his teammates.
One could only imagine their surprise when they find you standing in your entryway with an entirely different teammate, one who apparently already has access to sleepover privileges. And with Sae in his clothes from the night before and you in your robe and absolutely nothing else, it isn’t hard for them to put two and two together and realize what you’ve been up to.
The silence that follows their discovery is the loudest Sae thinks he’s ever heard in his life. There’s an uncomfortably long moment where the four of you just stand there and stare at each other, not saying a single word.
Aina is the first to react, letting out an Oscar-worthy gasp loud enough to alert your neighbors. Her eyes go wide, jaw dropping as her gaze jumps back and forth between you and Sae, like her brain can’t fully make sense of what she’s seeing.
“Holy shit.”
Oliver, on the other hand, appears to be having the time of his life, leering at the two of you with the largest and most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen on his face, like this is the best news he’s heard all week.
“No fucking way,” he says, two-toned eyes darting between you and Sae wickedly, before settling on you once more. “You bagged Itoshi?”
It’s a pretty spot-on assumption, Sae thinks, even if the way Oliver says it is stupid and irritating as hell. You are the one who approached him first, as well as the one who initiated things that first night you slept together. Not that it’s anyone else’s business, anyway, least of all nosy-ass Oliver’s.
You and Sae exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between you. It’s a testament to how familiar you’ve grown with one another over the past few months, where just one look is enough for the two of you to get an idea of what the other is thinking.
Having two of the loudest people you know find out you’ve been sleeping together isn’t ideal —neither Aina nor Oliver is exactly known for their subtlety— but it’s not the end of the world.
The two of you agreed to keep things quiet because you wanted your privacy, not because you’re ashamed of what you’ve been doing, so telling them won’t change much, as long as they don’t make it a big deal.
And besides, it’s not like you’re in any position to deny it, not when they’ve caught you red-handed.
Still, Aina and Oliver are more your friends than they are Sae’s, so he has no problem with you taking the lead on this one, which he attempts to communicate with a subtle nod of his head.
Thankfully, you seem to understand exactly what he means, clearing your throat and drawing all eyes back to you.
You pointedly ignore Oliver and his devilish smirk in favor of focusing on your best friend, who seems to be short-circuiting in light of the new information that’s been presented to her today. You take it all in stride, wielding that same easy confidence that Sae’s always admired in you, and nod at the tray she’s carrying.
“Is that iced coffee for me?”
Aina, for her part, still appears to be at a loss for words, but she makes an effort to answer you all the same, a confused but otherwise affirmative sound leaving her lips in response. You smile, reaching out to pluck the drink from its tray.
“Cool. Thanks.” You take a sip of your coffee before returning your attention to the midfielder beside you, offering him a warm smile and a parting wave. “Bye, Sae.”
It’s an easy out, of course, one that Sae is quick to accept, nodding at you and the stunned couple across from you before taking his leave.
The last thing he hears before your door shuts is the sound of Aina’s voice, baffled and utterly disbelieving as it rings out into your apartment.
“You’ve been fucking Itoshi Sae?!”
Her astonishment is a sentiment that carries over into the texts she sends you that same night, complete with various emojis and an assortment of reaction images she hopes will reflect her lingering shock. Oliver isn’t far behind her, though the texts he sends you are more teasing than anything else.
Still, they’re both strangely supportive about the whole thing. They even promise to keep what they’ve learned to themselves, though they still can’t quite believe it.
You show the texts to Sae the next time you’re at his place, letting him read them over your shoulder as the two of you lounge together in his bed, your back against his chest and his arm wound loosely around your waist.
The reaction images are sadly lost on him —Sae, as it turns out, really only cares about soccer, which means he has the social media literacy of a 70-year-old man— but he’s able to catch the gist.
You laugh about it together anyway, though for him it’s more of a little hum, followed by that tiny amused smirk you’re seeing more and more of every day.
“Did they seriously congratulate you for sleeping with me?”
“Yup. It’s a big deal, according to them. They’re both very proud of me.” You lock your phone and set it gently on his nightstand, twisting in his arms to face him with a teasing grin. “Apparently, I’m hooking up with the hottest midfielder in the league.”
He brushes off the comment at first, the way he seems to do with all of your obvious flirting, but he doesn’t stop you when you lift your leg and hike it over his hip.
And maybe it’s because he’s tired from practice, or maybe it’s because being around you relaxes him in a way he isn’t used to— but he ends up pulling you closer, palm smoothing over your skin and tracing a path up your leg.
“Well,” he mutters, hand squeezing appreciatively at your thigh, “it’s not like they’re wrong.”
“I dunno…” You let your voice trail off, fingertips skimming down his chest as you pretend to think about it. “I mean, ‘hottest midfielder’ is a really big title, and from what I’ve seen, your brother’s pretty hot, too.”
“My brother’s a striker, dumbass.”
“Even better. Think you can put in a good word for me?”
He shoots you a flat look, unimpressed by your joke, while you grin at him and crack up like you're the funniest person in the world. You’re still laughing when he reaches behind his head for a pillow and smacks you right in the face with it, squeaking out a “hey, wait, I’m kidding— I’m kidding!” between bursts of laughter.
And it’s ridiculous, Sae thinks, how easily the sound of your laugh softens him, how quickly it makes him forget about ever being annoyed. It shouldn’t, but it does, and right now he’s trying very hard not to think about what that might mean.
So he pushes it down and ignores it, the same way he’s forced himself to ignore how comfortable he’s gotten with you these past few months, hooking his hand behind your knee and rolling you both over so you’re laying on your back with him hovering above you.
He kisses you, then, deep and wanting in the way he knows you like, the one that leaves you breathless, half to distract himself and half because he wants to. You welcome him eagerly the way you always do, hooking your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his hair in an effort to bring him closer to you.
He breaks the kiss before it can go any further, drawing back just enough so that his lips are hovering above your own. You open your eyes, pupils blown out with desire, blinking at him expectantly as you wait for him to kiss you again.
When he doesn’t, you move for him, leaning up to press your lips back against his. He moves just out of reach at the last second, leaving you with a crease in your forehead and a pout on your lips that’s almost cute enough for him to give you what you want. Almost.
But Sae, as you’ve both learned, has a bit of a possessive streak. And while he’s already forgiven you for your earlier teasing, he hasn’t forgotten. And he intends, in true egoist fashion, to have the last word, even if it means having to stave off his own desires for a bit.
“You still interested in my brother?” he asks, and it’s pointed, goading. Probably the closest he’ll get to admitting how utterly disinterested he is in sharing you with anyone else.
“Wait, you have a brother?” You widen your eyes and pretend to be shocked, batting your lashes innocently before shaking your head. “Never heard of him.”
“Idiot,” he tells you, quiet, fond. Affectionate, too, if you’d listen closely enough. If he’d let you.
You merely laugh in response, bright and airy, before wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him down to you. This time, he doesn’t pull away, leaning down to kiss you and feeling your smile against his lips.
It’s not long after that your kisses turn heated and wanting, his tongue and lips tracing a path down your neck and over your breasts. He takes one nipple into his mouth and rolls the other between his thumb and index finger, your nails digging into his back as you moan, pretty and breathless into his ear.
One of the perks of your arrangement lasting so long is that it’s made Sae somewhat of an expert at taking you apart. He knows exactly how to make you feel good, knows your body and all of its little tells, all the ways you like to be touched.
It doesn’t take much for him to have you desperate and keening, just his tongue at your clit and his fingers deep in your cunt, curling against the spot that makes your eyes roll back.
Soon you’re pulling at his hair, your arousal dripping down his wrist and chin as you whine at him to fuck you, all trembling thighs and breathy whimpers. He obliges, half because you’re practically begging for it and half because he wants you so much, it’s starting to make him dizzy.
It’s not always like this. Most nights Sae prefers taking his time with you. He gets off on seeing how needy you get, how much he can make you want him. You never beg for anything, never want for anything from anyone else until you’re here, desperate and panting beneath him.
He likes seeing you that way. He likes being the one you seek out to give it to you even more.
Tonight, though, it’s different. He’s not sure what triggered it, but suddenly he can’t stop touching you, can’t stop thinking about you and how much he wants you. He’s always attentive, but right now he feels greedy, impatient. Wild in a way he isn’t used to. He kisses you, and it’s hungry, deliberate, like he has something to prove.
He helps you to your knees and fucks you with his hands at your hips and his chest at your back, hard and deep the way he knows you like. He makes you cum with your cheek pressed into the mattress and your hands digging into the sheets, and then he flips you over and pushes your knees to your chest, sliding back into you.
He makes you cum like that, too, with his name on your lips and your hands laced with his own, pinned above your head— once, twice more until he’s had his fill and begins chasing his own release, his face pressed against your neck as he finally lets go and falls apart inside of you.
You shower together afterwards, all slow kisses and languid touches as you stand beneath the warmth of his stupidly expensive shower head. It’s softer than it should be, too soft to be considered casual.
Sae knows it, too, just like he knows he should quit while he’s ahead and pull away from you before it’s too late, but he can’t, not when the scrape of your nails against his scalp as you lave shampoo through his hair feels as good as it does.
You exit the shower looking clean and refreshed, hair damp and skin glowing as you towel yourself off. You smell just like him, the scent of his body wash clinging to your skin.
It does something stupid to his brain, knowing that. Makes his ears red and his heart race in a way he immediately tries to bury. For some reason, this time it’s harder to do.
You get dressed in his bedroom and pack your bag. You tell him you have a big meeting at work tomorrow, so you can’t spend the night. You stay for dinner anyway, letting him treat you to takeout from your favorite restaurant.
The two of you sit on his couch and enjoy your meal together. As usual, you’re the one who provides most of the conversation, Sae preferring to nod along and listen, interjecting every now and then with a surprisingly thoughtful question or a sly comment that has you elbowing him in the side.
With takeout boxes littering his coffee table and a movie you’ve both already seen playing idly in the background, his apartment feels more lived in now than it ever has before, the way it always does whenever you come over. Sae does his very best to ignore how normal it all seems, how easily your knee presses against his as you sit beside him on the couch.
When it’s time for you to leave, he walks you to the door. You thank him again for dinner and smile when he brushes you off, reminding you to text him when you get home.
Then you kiss him goodbye and he lets you, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like it isn’t a big deal, even though you both know it is.
And though he knows he shouldn’t, though he knows he’s better off pushing it down and ignoring it, the way he’s gotten so good at lately— he thinks about it for the rest of the night.
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Things get a little blurrier after that.
It starts slowly, at first. An extra toothbrush by his sink, your hair ties on his nightstand. Little pieces of you scattered across his apartment that reveal just how intertwined your lives have become, even if neither of you wants to admit it.
He gets into the habit of picking you up from work. Starts showing up at your door with a bottle of wine and your favorite comfort snacks whenever he knows you’ve had a shitty week. There’s a shelf in his bathroom set aside just for you, stocked with moisturizer, cleanser, and face masks he lets you slather on his skin every now and then, on nights when he’s feeling particularly indulgent.
Your place is just as bad, if not worse. There’s protein powder in your pantry now, his hoodies hung up comfortably in your closet.
You drive him to practice when you have some free time and send him voice notes when you don’t, ones he makes a fuss about but always listens to. And whenever he has a game, you’re the first person who Facetimes him in the morning, wishing him luck and letting him know how excited you are to watch him win.
These days, you’re together more often than you’re apart. Sometimes he invites you over, and you don’t even have sex at all— you just hang out in his apartment and tell him about your day, resting your feet in his lap while his hands roam up and down your calves, and it feels like enough. Having you there feels like enough.
It gets to the point that whenever Shidou or Oliver want to reach him, they call you instead, knowing that Sae will be with you, the way he always seems to be now. It’s so humbling that for a single, horrifying moment, he considers cutting you off completely.
But Sae knows, even before the thought forms in his mind, that he won’t be able to go through with it. You’re too important to him now, too familiar. You’re his best friend, and as confusing and annoying as his thoughts about you have become, he can’t stay away from you.
He doesn’t even realize how bad he’s got it until another two months later, on the night of your birthday, when a conversation with Oliver forces him to confront the feelings he’s usually a lot better at ignoring.
The evening itself starts off normally enough. Sae spends most of it on the field with his team, in preparation for a rivalry game that’s less than a week away. The other players leave as soon as their coach dismisses them, eager to hit the showers and get some rest, but Sae stays behind for some extra practice.
He’s still at it by the time Oliver returns from the locker room. The centerback looks surprised to see that Sae’s still there, but he doesn’t hesitate to approach, joining his teammate out on the pitch.
“Figures you’d be the last one on the field,” Oliver says, greeting him with his signature sleazy smile. “You trying to make the rest of us look bad, Itoshi?”
Sae barely spares him a glance, choosing instead to focus on the row of soccer balls lined up at his feet. “I’ve never had to try to do that.”
Anyone else would be insulted, but Oliver just laughs, too used to Sae’s attitude to take it personally. “Why’re you still out here, anyway? It’s your girl’s birthday tonight. Shouldn’t you be back at your place getting ready?”
You’re not his girl, obviously, but correcting Oliver would be more trouble than it’s worth, so Sae doesn’t bother. “Why would I do that?”
“Oh, come on, man. No one’s that much of an asshole, not even you. Aren’t you coming to her party?”
Sae knows all about your party, of course. You invited him a while ago, though you made it clear it was a no pressure invitation. You knew he had that game coming up and that parties —especially the over the top and extravagant kind planned by Aina— aren’t really his thing, so you’d understand if he didn’t attend.
You’ve always been like that. Always more considerate than he or anyone else deserves. He picked up a present for you anyway, a simple necklace with a diamond sun pendant that made him think of you.
He planned to give it to you next week. Figured it would more than make up for his absence tonight, especially when he knows you’ll be busy with your friends. He’ll be shocked if you even notice he isn’t there, which is why he doesn’t feel the least bit guilty about sitting this one out.
“I’m not going,” Sae states plainly, kicking the ball at his feet and watching it land in the goal. “She said I didn’t have to.”
“Well yeah, that sounds like her, but don’t you want to? It’d be a fun way to surprise her,” Oliver points out, as if Sae really needs the reminder. “Hell, even I’m going, and she only tolerates me.”
“She knows I’m busy.” Another kick, another goal. Sae lifts the bottom of his shirt and wipes at the sweat on his face, unmoved. “She’ll be fine.”
“Damn.” Oliver whistles and crosses his arms over his chest, somewhere between incredulous and impressed. “And here I thought the two of you were finally getting serious. Shidou’ll be thrilled you’re back on the market. Adrian, too— though for different reasons.”
That catches Sae’s attention. He pauses before his next kick and shifts his gaze to where Oliver stands, narrowing his eyes.
He isn’t sure what his teammate is suggesting here, but he already doesn’t like it.
“Am I supposed to care about who that is?”
“You tell me. See, from what I hear, he’s your girl’s— my bad, I mean your not-girl’s ex. Apparently they ended on pretty good terms. Aina told me he’ll be there tonight, along with the rest of their friends.”
Oliver waits for a moment, letting his words sink in, before he grins knowingly, mismatched eyes smug and goading.
“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t care, huh?”
Sae feels himself frown, eyes narrowing into a glare as something heavy and bitter settles over his chest. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut, too, one that makes his stomach twist with discomfort.
You’ve never mentioned Adrian before. You’ve never mentioned any of your exes before, at least not to Sae, and why would you?
Contrary to popular belief, Sae’s not your boyfriend. He’s not even someone you’re officially dating. He’s just a friend you fuck regularly and hang out with after, even if it has been going on for way too long to be considered casual.
The point is, who you choose to spend your time with, romantically or otherwise, is none of his business, because you never agreed to be exclusive. And it’s not like he cares if you’re seeing other people, anyway, because he doesn’t. He doesn’t care.
He’s just a little annoyed by it, is all. Just a little irritated by the fact that Oliver would waste his time by bringing it up now, even though he knows Sae has more important things on his mind, like the upcoming game everyone else seems to be forgetting about.
That’s what Sae tells himself, anyway. What he reminds himself of even after Oliver says goodbye and heads off to get ready, leaving him alone on the pitch with nothing but his thoughts.
He repeats it inside of his head, over and over again, telling himself that it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t care— even as the next ball he kicks misses, ricocheting off the goalpost.
So what if you’re seeing the ex you never mentioned tonight? And so what if the two of you ended on good enough terms for you to feel comfortable inviting him to your party? It’s your birthday, and you’re allowed to spend it with whoever you want.
Sae knows that, just like he knows you don’t owe him anything, least of all an explanation. And he doesn’t care— he doesn’t. He shouldn’t, because if he did, well— then that would mean he cares about you, maybe even has actual feelings for you, and that just wouldn’t make any sense, would it?
Because Sae doesn’t do this kind of thing. He doesn’t do feelings, or relationships, or anything else that puts him at risk of being vulnerable. He isn’t made for it. He never has been.
But then he thinks of you. Of your smile and your enthusiasm, of your quick comebacks and your laugh that turns into a snort whenever you think something is especially funny.
He thinks about the first time you spent the night at his place. He remembers waking up with you after and how easy it felt to hold you, how right.
You are thoughtful in a way that Sae is not, light-hearted and optimistic in a way he knows he’ll never be. You’re smart, too, smarter than anyone else he knows and more sensitive than you like to admit.
You’re stubborn to a fault, you hate admitting when you’re wrong, and you wouldn’t know how to relax even if someone paid you— but Sae can’t think of anything he’d like to do more than spend his time trying to keep up with you.
It hits him, then. The truth he’s spent the past few months trying to deny. All those sappy thoughts he’s had about you, the comfort and ease that settle over him whenever he’s around you— it’s not just because he likes spending time with you, or because he considers you a close friend.
It’s because he has feelings for you. Real, genuine feelings that he can’t ignore, at least not anymore.
It’s why hearing about your ex distracts him enough to make him miss the goal. Why the thought of you with someone else makes him feel sick to his stomach. And as much as Sae hates being vulnerable and honest about his feelings, he thinks he hates the idea of you cozying up to your ex even more.
He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it yet, or what he’s going to say to you— but what he does know is that he can’t do it here, so he picks up his bag and leaves the field.
An hour later, he’s in his car and driving up to the lounge where Aina’s hosting your party, freshly showered and handing his keys over to the valet. The necklace he picked out for you rests inside the pocket of his jacket, tucked securely against his side.
It’ll pair nicely with his confession, he thinks, if he can find the words. If his logic will allow it.
Inside the lounge, it doesn’t take him long to find you. You’re exactly where he thought you’d be, smack dab in the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips and singing your heart out with Aina and the rest of your friends at your side.
You look incredible, all smooth skin and glittery eyes, dressed in something soft and lacey he can’t wait to help you out of. You’ve always been beautiful, but here beneath the warm lights with your hair framing your face and your lips curled into that alluring smile, you’re easily the most stunning thing he’s ever seen.
Sae spends longer than he probably should just looking at you, watching you laugh and dance out on the floor, spurred on by the music and the enthusiastic cheers of your friends. He finds himself smiling before he can really help it, tender and fond in the way only you ever seem to make him.
You do a bit of a double take when you spot him, craning your neck past Aina’s head to get a better view. He sends you a short nod as a form of greeting, and you return it with an excited wave of your own, excusing yourself from your friends to join him where he stands at the edge of the crowd.
You smile as you approach, a little breathless from all the dancing, but still so beautiful. You look happy that he’s here, but you’re surprised, too, eyes wide, like he’s the last person you expected to see.
“Sae? What are you doing here?”
It’s a fair question, considering the fact that the last time you spoke, he told you he couldn’t make it, but he raises an eyebrow anyway, like he can’t believe you’d ask. “You invited me, remember?”
“Well, yeah, I did, but I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you say honestly, laughing a little. “I thought you were busy.”
“I was. Now I’m not.” When your eyes widen even more, your surprise giving way to disbelief, Sae’s eyebrows furrow. “Is it really that big of a deal?”
“That you’re choosing to spend your free time surrounded by everyone I know getting drunk off their asses? Kind of, yeah.” You reach out and smooth your hands over his chest, tugging at the lapels of his jacket to tease him. “I didn’t realize you cared so much.”
And Sae, too sure of his feelings to deny it, but too stubborn to agree, merely sighs, though he does nothing to move your hands away. “Look, if you want me to leave—”
“And rob me and the rest of my friends of the opportunity to ogle you in a button-down? On my birthday?” You put a hand over your heart and shake your head, looking scandalized. “That’s so disrespectful, not to mention selfish. I’m honestly offended that you even suggested it.”
He rolls his eyes, muttering something about you being the most dramatic person in the world, and you start to laugh, lips curling into that lovely little smile that lately he can’t stop thinking about.
Then you take his hand, sliding your fingers through his in a way that feels a lot more significant now that he knows he has feelings for you, and Sae feels something in his chest shift all over again, his pulse quickening beneath his skin.
“Come on,” you tell him, tugging on his hand to guide him forward, completely unaware of the effect you have on him. “I’ll get you a drink.”
You lead him to the bar and prop yourself up on one of the stools. Sae takes a seat beside you and watches as you order two cocktails— something simple for him and something sweet for yourself. The bartender makes quick work of your drinks, setting them down in front of you in record time and leaving you and Sae to chat.
“How was practice?”
“Same as always. How’s your party?”
“It’s been a lot of fun, actually. Aina really outdid herself. I’m thankful, even if it is forcing me to accept the sad reality that I’m basically a grandma now.” You let out a wistful sigh, stirring your drink with your straw. “When I was in college, I used to knock back tequila like it was water. Now it just kind of burns.”
That has him letting out an actual laugh, quiet but genuine, though he attempts to cover it up by reaching for his drink. You notice anyway and beam at the sound, unreasonably pleased with yourself, the way you always are whenever you manage to make him laugh.
He thinks of telling you that you’re the only one who can, the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do so. But the bar is rowdy and the music’s too loud, so he keeps it to himself, taking a sip of his drink and watching you do the same.
You chat for a while longer, catching each other up on all that you’ve missed in the week since you last saw one another. He tells you about the trip he took to the beach and the clothing sponsorship his manager won’t shut up about, and you tell him about the new pastry shop you tried and the comically large fruit bouquet your parents had delivered to your doorstep this morning.
And it’s easy, Sae thinks, talking to you like this. He’s never been a fan of parties, but sitting here with you, listening to your voice and hearing you laugh, it isn’t so bad.
He spent most of the drive here thinking of you and coming to terms with his feelings for you. These past few months have been filled with nothing but denial on his part, with Sae doing everything in his power to convince himself that he only saw you as the friend he was casually hooking up with, despite every one of his thoughts and actions proving otherwise.
But on the drive here, when he finally sat down to think about it, he found that what he feels for you was strangely easy for him to accept, despite the initial shock of it all.
Sae’s never been one for romance or relationships. He’s never imagined that’d be something he’d want, but looking at you now and wanting you the way he does, he knows it’s true. If he has to have feelings for anyone, he figures it might as well be you.
You, with all your sarcasm and your compassion and that soft little smile he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of.
He’s glad that it’s you.
If Sae were softer, more sensitive like Rin, he’d tell you. If he were better with words, if he knew what to say or where to start, he’d grab your hand and take you somewhere quiet and romantic, and then he’d tell you the truth. He’d tell you everything, all about the way you make him feel and all the parts of himself you make him want to give you.
But Sae isn’t like that. And while normally he wouldn’t hesitate to go after what he wants, he’s not going to risk ruining your birthday or the friendship you’ve built by telling you about the feelings he’s only now realizing he has, especially when he has no idea how to put them into words.
So he doesn’t.
He just listens to the sound of your voice and keeps his feelings to himself, pretending that absolutely nothing has changed even when it’s obvious that everything has.
Eventually, Aina and the rest of your girlfriends show up at the bar to steal you away. They’re shouting something about birthday pictures and ass-shaking that Sae only half-understands, but he doesn’t fight them on it. He knows how excited you are to spend tonight celebrating and letting loose with your friends, so he lets them whisk you away, nodding when you promise to catch up with him later.
Shidou and Oliver show up to harass him the second you and your friends are gone. They try to bully him into taking shots with them, but when that doesn’t work, they settle for setting him up with another drink instead. Then they each sling an arm around his shoulders and herd him over to the couches, where a handful of their other teammates are waiting.
The next time Sae sees you, you're back on the dance floor with your friends. He recognizes most of them, like Aina and Eri, Kenta and Misaki. The only stranger is the man standing behind you, the one Sae immediately decides he doesn’t like.
That’s when Sae notices how close this guy is to you and how low his hands are on your waist. All of a sudden, ignoring his feelings for you becomes a lot harder to do, especially now, when he’s almost positive that you’re dancing with your ex.
Sae doesn’t actually know that the man you’re dancing with is Adrian, of course. He’s too far away to hear what’s being said or to catch any names, but with how comfortable this guy seems to be with touching you, it isn’t hard to guess. He’s lean and broad-shouldered, too, with bright green eyes and silky dark hair, and well— you did say you have a type.
And when you glance over your shoulder to look at him, instead of being disgusted and telling him to get the fuck away from you, the way Sae is hoping you will, you smile. You actually fucking smile, accepting the bastard’s outstretched hand and letting him spin you around, like it’s normal, like you’re used to it. Like it’s something the two of you have done a million times before.
Quite frankly, it makes Sae want to fucking vomit.
It bothers him more than he cares to admit, watching you dance with Adrian and seeing how happy you look, how easily you welcome your ex-boyfriend’s touch. You aren’t even doing anything particularly scandalous, just laughing and letting him twirl you around, but seeing it happen still makes Sae’s stomach churn and his chest ache in a way he knows can’t be normal.
When the song changes, Aina ushers you and the rest of your group back towards the bar, ending your little stint on the dance floor. Sae finds himself grateful for the interruption, until he realizes that all it’s done is provide Adrian with the opportunity to get even closer to you, nestling himself between you and Eri.
Aina stands on your other side and waves down the bartender, but all Sae can focus on is the arm Adrian has wrapped around your shoulders, the way he leans in close and whispers in your ear.
Immediately, Sae decides he can’t watch anymore, not unless he actually wants to throw up. So instead of sticking around to see what happens next, he stands up and walks away, before the tension in his chest makes him do something stupid.
Shidou and Oliver call after him in confusion, but Sae ignores them, disappearing into the crowd without looking back.
There’s an outdoor section attached to the lounge, guarded by a set of clunky metal doors he didn’t notice until now. He pushes past them and is pleased to find the space almost entirely empty, save for the trio of smokers who are already on their way back inside, their cigarettes quickly blackening in the ashtray left on one of the tables outside.
Sae walks past them as they exit, ignoring the open chairs and couches in favor of standing closer to the balcony. He braces himself against the railing, nursing a drink he doesn’t even really want in his hand and a heaviness he isn’t used to in his heart.
It’s colder out here than it is inside. Quieter, too, though Sae hardly minds it. He welcomes the chill and the silence it brings, even if it does little to sort out his thoughts. All he knows for sure is that right now, he wants to be alone, and being out here can give him that, so he stays.
He enjoys about ten minutes of blissful silence before he hears the doors push open again. He braces himself with a deep sigh and looks over his shoulder, ready to tell Oliver to go back inside and leave him alone, but he stops himself when he sees that it’s you.
And it’s awful, Sae thinks, how easily the sight of you softens him, how happy he is to see you, even now. A few seconds ago, he was convinced he didn’t want to see anyone at all, but looking at you now, he can’t imagine ever asking you to leave.
The thought’s a little easier for him to stomach now that he’s accepted his feelings for you, but that doesn’t make it any less disorienting.
“There you are,” you say, greeting him with a warm smile and looking just as happy to see him now as you were when he first arrived. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to. I tried asking Oliver, but he wasn’t sure, either.”
Sae’s eyebrows raise at your words, his previous agitation forgotten. “You went looking for me?”
“Of course.” You join him at the railing, heels clacking against the pavement as you walk. You’re standing close enough now that your arm touches his, but he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. “I can’t exactly fulfill my promise of ogling you if you’re all the way out here, now, can I?”
“I’m sure you would’ve figured something out,” he says, bumping his shoulder with yours, even as the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “You’re persistent that way.”
“Can you blame me? You know what the sight of you with your shirt buttons undone does to the general public, myself included.”
“Weirdly enough, you’re not the first person to tell me that tonight.”
“Let me guess— Shidou?”
“He’s the only other person as dedicated to flirting with me as you are.”
You laugh, flipping your hair over your shoulder with a shrug. “What can I say? We have excellent taste.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” He raises an eyebrow at you and hums, amused. “And here I thought it was just the two of you being shameless as always.”
“Only for you,” you say, voice low and playful, punctuating your words with a ridiculous wink that he shouldn’t find nearly half as endearing as he does. “Well, you and Pedro Pascal, but he didn’t show up for my birthday the way you did, so— mostly you.”
“I’m flattered,” he drawls sarcastically, making you laugh.
A brief silence follows, though it’s far from uncomfortable. It never is, not when it’s just you and Sae. You know he isn’t exactly the most talkative person, but you’ve never seemed to have a problem with that, never tried to make him into something he’s not. It’s one of the many things he likes about you.
You blink when you catch him staring at you, but you don’t hesitate to smile at him anyway. “What?”
“Nothing.” He’s quick to change the subject, clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away from your own. That’s when he notices the way you’re shivering, your arms going up to wrap around yourself as a breeze passes and goosebumps rise on your skin. “You’re cold.”
“Only a little,” you admit, expression bashful as you rub your arm, “but it’s fine. I’ll adjust. Honestly, with how hot it was inside, I probably need the—”
He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and offering it for you to take. “Here.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. Really, you don’t have to—”
Your protests quickly go nowhere, Sae choosing to ignore you and all but shoving his jacket into your hands. You accept it from him somewhat unsurely, though that hesitance quickly disappears the moment you feel how warm his jacket feels around you.
You slide your arms through the sleeves and let the jacket rest comfortably around your shoulders, looking up to face him with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
He nods in acknowledgement of your gratitude but says nothing else, too busy taking in the sight of you in his jacket and thinking about how much better it’d be if you were actually his.
Not for the first time, he thinks of confessing his feelings. He settles for bringing up the gift he got you instead, hoping it’ll be enough to make you understand.
“There’s something in it for you,” he says quickly, before he can talk himself out of it. “Inside the pocket.”
You blink, taken aback. “Really?”
When he nods, you reach inside his jacket. It takes you a moment or two of rummaging around, but eventually you find what you’re looking for, pulling out the dark velvet box that holds the necklace he got you for your birthday and cradling it gently inside your palm.
You meet his gaze briefly, eyes soft and searching, before opening the box with your other hand. You let out a tiny gasp when you see what’s inside, your eyes widening at the sun pendant that rests before you. It quite literally takes your breath away, and Sae knows, even before you meet his eyes again, that he’s done something right.
“Oh, my god. Sae, this is so— I mean, I don’t even know what to—” He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this way before, so at a loss for words. Usually you always have something to say, but right now you can hardly form a sentence, eyes wide as you all but gape at him. “Are you sure?”
“Happy birthday,” Sae says, as softly and sincerely as he can manage. “I hope you like it.”
“Are you kidding? How could I not?”
You laugh a little, voice disbelieving as you trace your fingertips over the necklace, gentle and admiring. Sae can’t help but smile to himself as he watches you, pleased by how touched you seem to be by the gift.
“It’s beautiful. Seriously, Sae, it’s gorgeous and wonderful— and way too fucking expensive.” You snap the box closed, shaking your head firmly. “I can’t accept this.”
Your words make him frown, brows furrowing slightly as you hold the box out to him. He had a feeling you’d be difficult about this, knowing how notoriously stubborn you are, but he thought you’d at least put the necklace on before trying to give it back to him.
“Why not?”
“What do you mean, why not?” You stare at him, bewildered, an almost comically serious look on your face as you lift the box in your hands and shake it around. “Sae, there are actual diamonds on this necklace.”
He resists the urge to laugh at your expression, shrugging his shoulders and raising an eyebrow. “So?”
“So?” you repeat, giving him an incredulous look. “That means it’s probably worth more than my freakin’ apartment! I can’t take this from you.”
“You’re not taking anything. I’m giving it to you,” Sae corrects, completely unbothered, even as your eye starts to twitch in a way that makes it clear you think he’s lost his mind. “You know, like that gift thing people do on birthdays?”
He tries to make a joke, but you hardly acknowledge it, evidently too occupied with having an internal crisis about the amount of money he spent to appreciate his rare attempt at humor. There’s a frown on your lips and a crease in your brow that reassure him it’s going to take a lot more than that to convince you to accept the gift, but thankfully, Sae has already prepared for that.
“I’m not bringing it back to the store,” he says, meeting your eyes so you can see exactly how serious he is. “I already got rid of the receipt, and I’m not giving it to anyone else, so either you take it, or it goes in the trash.”
You open your mouth to argue, but the look on his face must make you reconsider, because you’re closing it before you can say anything else. Realizing that regardless of your protests, he won’t be changing his mind, you sigh, relenting.
“Fine. I’ll take it.” You’re trying your best to pout, making a show of your begrudging acceptance, but the sparkle in your eye as you gaze down at the box in your hand betrays just how thrilled you really are to be keeping the gift. “But I would like the record to show that I think you’re a psychopath. A filthy rich, full-blown psychopath.”
“You know, most people would just say thank you.”
Sae expects you to make a quip back, maybe even return his snark with an eye roll of your own, but you surprise him by taking his hand in yours, using the other to cradle the box to your chest.
“Thank you, Sae.” You squeeze his hand and smile, gratitude and sincerity hanging off every word. “I love it.”
You give his hand another gentle squeeze before releasing it and turning your attention back to the box you’re holding, a distraction Sae finds himself grateful for. He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making right now, but if the way his pulse is racing is any indication, he doubts it’s anything normal.
He watches as you open the box and remove the necklace from inside. Once it’s been freed, you put the empty box back in his pocket and let the necklace dangle from your fingertips, turning to offer it to him again.
“Will you help me put it on?”
For a moment, all Sae can do is nod. His pulse is still racing, drumming beneath his skin with the kind of adrenaline he thought he’d only ever get while playing soccer. He ignores it as best as he can, clearing his throat and taking the necklace from you.
“Turn around.”
You do as he asks, turning so your back is facing him and holding up your hair so it’s out of the way. He brings the necklace to your throat, fingers brushing against your neck in a way that makes you shudder slightly, goosebumps rising on your skin as you lean instinctively into his touch.
The sight is tempting enough to make him want to forget the necklace entirely and bring his lips to your throat, grazing the spot below your ear he knows drives you crazy, but somehow he resists the urge, clasping the necklace shut without any further incident.
“Well?” You let go of your hair and turn back around to face him, a smile on your face as you put your hands on your hips and strike a pose. “How’s it look?”
What Sae wants to say is that you look stunning. That you always do, and that it has nothing to do with the necklace at your throat or the clothes you wear and everything to do with the way you carry yourself, dramatic nonsense and all.
What comes out of his mouth instead isn’t nearly as poetic. “It looks better on you than it would have in the garbage can.”
It’s probably one of the least romantic things you’ve ever heard, but luckily for him, you’re too used to his personality to be offended by it. All you do is laugh, brushing it off without a second thought.
“You know,” you say, in the shittiest imitation of his voice you can manage, throwing his words back at him the way he’s sure you planned to from the beginning, “most people would just say it looks good on me.”
Sae huffs out a laugh, though he still makes a point to roll his eyes at your words. He watches you grin and laugh along with him, taking in the curve of your lips and the flutter of your lashes, and finds himself speaking again, before he can change his mind.
“It does.” It’s hard to say who the confession surprises more— you or himself. He keeps going anyway, even as your laughter fades and your eyes widen. “You look—” It takes him a second to gather himself, the words awkward and stiff coming from his mouth, but just as sincere. “—beautiful. You are beautiful.”
Understandably, the compliment catches you off guard. Sae’s called you many things before —stubborn, ridiculous, dramatic, even shameless— but he’s never called you beautiful. He’s never called anything beautiful, at least not on purpose. You probably didn’t even think it was something he could do.
Maybe that’s why you’re looking at him so strangely now, his words stunning you into silence. He can only hope you know he meant them. Then he notices the shy little smile on your face and the way you wrap his jacket a little tighter around yourself and realizes you already do.
“Thank you.”
Another silence falls between you, different from before. This one is a little more intense, the air between you thick with words left unsaid, but it’s still not uncomfortable, at least not yet. Sae knows it’s true, because when he leans back against the railing, you follow, settling into the space beside him and letting your arm press against his without a hint of regret or awkwardness.
“I’m glad you’re here, Sae.” You don’t look at him when you say it, eyes on the city skyline below you, all the twinkling, faraway lights blanketed by the cover of darkness. Your voice is quieter than he’s used to, but still undoubtedly sincere. “And not because of the gift, or because of the compliment, even though those were nice, too— but because of you.”
That catches him off guard. “Because of me?”
“Yeah, because of you.” You turn to look at him then, all easy smiles and undeniable fondness. “Just you. I mean, obviously you didn’t have to be here, and I know you probably haven’t been enjoying yourself too much, but still, it’s nice.”
“What makes you think I’m not enjoying myself?”
“You’re kidding, right? This whole thing is loud music and a big crowd, neither of which you’re fond of. Besides, you told me you hated parties.”
“I don’t hate you.” The words fall from his lips before he can stop them, soft and tender and way too fucking honest. Your eyes widen, even more now than they did when he called you beautiful, and immediately he clears his throat, backtracking. “...I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Oh, so you do hate me, then?”
“What? No, that’s not what I—” He cuts himself off when he catches the smile you try and fail to hide behind your hand, any concern he had about hurting your feelings vanishing as he shoots you a scowl. “Oh, shut up.”
You give up on masking your amusement and begin laughing outright. Normally, the sound would annoy him, especially when done at his expense, but because it’s you, all it does is make him grow more fond, the corners of his lips curling into a smile of his own before he can stop them.
“If it makes you feel any better,” you say, your side pressing against his as you lean in close, whispering like you’re sharing a secret, “I don’t hate you, too.”
It’s nothing like an actual confession, nor can it be considered a real sign that you’ll return his feelings, but Sae hears you say it, watches the way you watch him, and suddenly he knows that if there were ever a time for him to tell you the truth, then this would be it.
But words have never come easily to Sae, so instead of saying it, instead of telling you, he decides to show you.
He brings his hand to your face, cupping your cheek in his palm with a kind of gentleness he didn’t even think himself capable of until now. He swipes his thumb along your bottom lip, his gaze never leaving yours, while you look on, startled by his sudden softness.
He knows as soon as he does it that the way he’s holding you now is something different, something real. He knows you’ll feel it, too, knows it’ll catch you off guard, even if it’s far from the first time he’s touched you. It’s why he isn’t the least bit surprised when your eyes widen, your voice a quiet, stunned murmur as you open your mouth to speak.
“Sae, what are you…”
He doesn’t let you finish that thought, closing what little distance is left between you to press his lips against yours. It’s a softer kiss than he usually goes for, every bit as tender and delicate as the way his hand cradles your cheek and filled with all the sincerity he can manage, all the longing he didn’t even realize he’d been feeling until now.
You’re breathless when he pulls away, lips parted and eyes fluttering back open to meet his, dazed, like you’re seeing him for the first time.
“What was that for?”
For a moment, Sae has no idea how to respond. You’ve always been the most observant person in the room —it’s how you found out about the ankle he sprained last month, having picked up on the strain in his voice the moment he answered your call— so the fact that you still haven’t realized he’s trying to confess his feelings for you is unexpected, to say the least.
Still, he doesn’t let it deter him, letting the hand he uses to cradle your face speak for him, thumb brushing across your cheek in a way he hopes makes things a little clearer.
“What do you think?”
You don’t answer right away, your eyes locked with his own, stunned and searching. You reach up a hand and place it over the one he has on your face, but your touch is hesitant, unsure— much like your voice is when you speak again.
“Honestly, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be thinking right now.”
Sae is trying very hard to be sensitive for you, but he can’t stop himself from frowning at your words. He knew telling you about his feelings —or, in this case, showing you— wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t think it’d be this hard, either. And though he knows it’s probably unfair of him to think kissing you like this will be enough, your reaction isn’t exactly making him feel any better about it.
“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve kissed you.”
“Well, yeah, I know that, but you’ve never—” You cut yourself off, brows furrowing as you fix him with a serious look. “You’ve never kissed me like that.”
“Maybe I just didn’t think you could handle it.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, Sae knows, not to mention completely at odds with what he’s actually feeling, but it’s what comes out of his mouth, anyway. You frown as soon as he says it, eyes narrowing as you shake your head.
“You’re such a dick, Sae.”
“I know.” He moves his hand and brushes a piece of hair away from your face. You let him, your gaze flickering down to his lips then back up again to meet his eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”
And though he knows as well as you do that you should say yes, though you have every right to push him away and demand he explain himself properly, all you do is lean in closer, your lips hovering against his as you answer, voice low and deliberate and just a little breathless, “...No.”
He closes the distance at the same time you do, your lips meeting in another kiss that’s as longing and passionate as the first. It’s just as soft, too, soft in the way you still can’t quite make sense of, but that hardly seems to matter to you now as you tilt your head and let yourself become lost in it, one of your hands going up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck.
Then you’re pressing your body against his, your lips moving to nip at his jaw, and it’s all Sae can do to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer, his mouth finding yours once more.
There’s so much more the two of you need to talk about, so much he still has tell you so that you can finally understand the extent of his feelings, but right now, all he can focus on is the feel of your lips against his own and the weight of you in his arms, steady and solid, like it’s where you were meant to be all along.
He lifts a hand to cradle your jaw, and your lips part, tongue sliding against his as he walks the two of you backwards. Your back hits the railing, and you make a needy little sound in the back of your throat that just makes him kiss you harder, one of your legs going up to wrap around his waist.
His lips are halfway down your neck when your phone starts to ring. The two of you ignore it at first, too lost in each other to pay it any real mind, and eventually it stops, just in time for Sae to make his way back up to your lips, his free hand shifting lower to grip at your thigh.
Not even a minute later, the ringing starts back up again, a loud, chiming tone that’s a lot harder to ignore the second time around. Reluctantly, Sae pulls away, though he doesn’t go very far— just enough to meet your eyes, one of his hands still cradling the side of your face.
“You should probably answer that,” he mutters, even as his other hand smooths over the skin of your thigh, his lips hovering just a breath away from your own.
“What?” you ask, dazed and distracted, your eyes still focused on his lips.
“Your phone, dumbass,” he replies, soft and amused, the corners of his mouth curling up at your reaction. “Answer it before your friends start a tequila-fueled search party.”
“Oh, shit— yeah.” The reality of his words spurs you back into action, your eyes widening a fraction as you snap yourself out of your daze. “Good call.”
You work together to untangle yourselves from each other, unwinding your arms from around his neck while Sae guides your leg back to the ground to help you find your footing. When he’s sure you won’t fall, he lets his hands drop and takes a step back, giving you space to answer the call.
You, however, seem to have other plans, your hand shooting out to grab onto the front of his shirt before he can get too far. Your phone is still ringing, even louder now that you’ve pulled it out of your purse, but you don’t seem too concerned about it, your attention focused solely on Sae.
“This’ll be quick,” you reassure him. “So don’t— don’t go anywhere, okay?”
It’s cute, Sae thinks, how earnest you sound when you say it, how serious you look as you ask him to stay. He’s never been good at denying you anything, even before he realized he had feelings for you, and now? Now, it’s the last thing on his mind. “Okay.”
Your expression brightens, lips curling up as you smile, pleased by his response. Then you let go of his shirt and swipe at your phone screen, bringing the device up to your ear.
“Hello?”
There’s a brief pause as you lean against the railing, awaiting a response. Sae doesn’t think much of it, until he hears you speak again.
“Oh, hey, Adrian.”
That’s when the tension in his chest from earlier returns full force, every muscle in Sae’s body locking up the moment your ex-boyfriend’s name leaves your lips. You don’t pick up on it, either, too focused on your conversation to notice the frown on his face or the furrow of his brow.
(He can’t tell if that makes things better or worse.)
“Yeah, I’m okay. I just stepped out for a minute,” you continue, oblivious to the tension in his frame, the scoff he just barely manages to hide. “No, I’m not, I promise— I’m with a friend.”
A friend, you say, as if that’s all you expect from him, all you want him to be. Just a friend, as if everything that’s happened between you tonight doesn’t matter.
Needless to say, it doesn’t sit well with him at all.
Is that why you told him you were okay with him missing your party? Why you looked so surprised when he showed up anyway? Because you wanted to spend the night with your ex-boyfriend instead?
Earlier, Sae thought that the longing and urgency that poured from your lips as you kissed him back meant something, that you could actually want him the way he wants you. Not just as a friend or a hookup or whatever the hell it is you’ve been doing this whole time, but as something more, something real.
He understands now that it was all just wishful thinking on his part, a fantasy he should’ve known better than to indulge. He feels whatever softness you managed to bring out of him fade away, and with it his desire to open his heart and confess his feelings for you.
The logical part of his brain, the part he usually has no trouble listening to, knows he’s overreacting. It isn’t fair of him to assume there’s something going on with you and Adrian just because you answered his phone call, just like it isn’t fair of him to assume you’ll understand his feelings without him actually talking to you about them.
Still, it’s hard to be logical when all Sae can focus on is the churn of his stomach and the ache in his chest as he watches you chat with your ex. It’s a little easier than watching you interact with him in person, Sae supposes, but not by much. He still feels ready to throw up by the end of it, frustrated and annoyed for reasons he still isn’t sure how to explain to you.
Thankfully, you don’t stay on the phone for long. Your conversation with Adrian only lasts a minute or two, and then you’re hanging up the call, tucking your phone back into your purse without any further distractions.
You reach for Sae the moment your hands are free, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his. It’s muscle memory for him to open his arms and welcome you, his hands moving to rest at your waist before he can stop himself.
“Now,” you say with a smile, earnest and eager as you lean in close, “where were we?”
You kiss him, then, determined to pick up exactly where you left off, your lips warm and soft as they move against his own. And if it were any other day, then Sae would be kissing you back without a second thought, tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you even closer.
But that was before your phone call with Adrian, before you laughed and said Sae was just your friend, right after he kissed you and held you in a way he thought would make it clear that he wanted more than that. Now it’s all he can think about, all that frustration and bitterness he felt earlier —and jealousy, he realizes now, begrudgingly, unfortunately— settling into his chest in the worst way.
It doesn’t take you long to notice his hesitance. You feel his lack of response and pull back, a look of concern on your face as you meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
If Sae were better, more honest, he’d tell you the truth. He’d tell you how much he hates the idea of you and your ex reconnecting, how he can’t stand seeing you with Adrian or anyone else for that matter, not because he actually knows him or because he doesn’t trust your judgment, but because he wants you to be with him instead.
But Sae can’t do that. In fact, just the mere thought of putting himself out there, of allowing himself to be that vulnerable without knowing exactly what’s going on inside your head makes him feel like he’s going to be sick, so he doesn’t.
He just shuts down entirely, closing himself off the way he always does whenever he starts feeling more than he knows how to handle. It’s probably the worst thing he can do at this moment, especially when it comes to you, but that’s of little consequence to him when he feels as raw and hopelessly human as he does right now.
“You should get back inside,” is what he tells you instead, distancing himself in the only way he knows how, though it’s the exact opposite of what his heart wants. “Your friends are waiting for you.”
At first, the bitterness in his tone is lost on you. Your lips curve into a smirk, your voice playful and coy as you lower your hands to his neck and tug at the collar of his shirt. “They can wait a little longer.”
You lean in to kiss him again, pulling on his collar so he can meet you halfway, your tongue sliding along his bottom lip. He ends up kissing you back despite himself, parting his lips so your tongue can meet his before he has the chance to think better of it.
It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to remember he’s supposed to be distancing himself from you, too lost in the feeling of your lips moving against his to recall why he was so upset in the first place.
Eventually, though, he finds it in himself to pull away, turning his head before you have the chance to kiss him again. “Something tells me Adrian wouldn’t agree with you.”
This time, you do notice the bitterness in his voice. You loosen your grip on his collar, drawing back to give him a funny look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just forget it.” Sae lets his hands drop, releasing his hold on your waist. You’re so caught off guard, you don’t even complain, your own hands falling back down to your sides as he takes a step away from you. “You can leave my jacket with Oliver. I’ll get it from him later.”
“Wait, what?” You don’t bother to hide your confusion at his sudden shift in mood, eyes wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “You’re leaving?”
“You said it yourself.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, the smile he sends you wry and humorless. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”
“Yeah, well, neither is being passive aggressive, but you seem to be doing a great job of that right now.” You cross your arms over your chest and frown, your normally relaxed features twisting into a scowl. You’re definitely annoyed by his behavior, but he can see in your eyes that you’re hurt by it, too. He thought seeing that would make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “Why are you being like this, Sae? A minute ago, we were totally fine, and now you’re acting like you’re mad at me or something.”
“I’m not acting like anything.”
“Yes, you are, and I want to know why. I mean, all I did was answer one phone call, so why are you acting so— oh. Oh, my god. Is that why you’re mad at me? Because of the phone call?”
Sae turns to scoff at you, acting as if he couldn’t care less, even though the problem is that he very much does. “You really think I give a shit that you spoke to your ex?”
“Why does it matter that he’s my ex?” You tilt your head, then, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, until slowly —despite his best efforts— the realization begins to dawn on you. All at once, your confusion disappears, replaced by a wide-eyed, knowing look that makes whatever hope he had of avoiding this conversation vanish. “Itoshi Sae, are you jealous?”
You’re right, of course —frustratingly enough, you kind of always are— but Sae thinks he’d rather chew concrete than admit it, especially when he’s already resigned himself to burying his feelings.
It’s why he kisses his teeth at your words, his lip curling up in disdain. “Tch, you wish.”
“Liar. You’re jealous as hell. In fact, I bet the whole reason you were even out here in the first place is because you saw me dance with him and got all sulky about it. That’s how jealous you are.” You’re confident enough about it to dare to take a step forward, raising an eyebrow as you meet his eyes with an expectant look. “Am I wrong?”
All Sae can do is scowl at you, irritated by both your smugness and the fact that it does nothing to change the way he feels about you. “You’re a pain in the ass, is what you are.”
And because you’re you, of course his words don’t offend you in the slightest. If anything, your satisfaction only grows, your lips curving into a smirk that’s as pleased as it is insufferable. “I still haven’t heard a ‘no.’”
Sae grimaces but remains silent, half because he’s stubborn and half because you aren’t wrong. You’ve always been smart, too smart, really —it’s one of the things he likes most about you— so of course you were able to pick up on his jealousy, despite his attempts at denying it.
He expects you to give him a hard time over it, maybe even chew him out for how immature and ridiculous he’s been acting as a result, but you surprise him by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. When he doesn’t push you away, you take that as a sign to continue, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You know you don’t have to be jealous, right?” Your voice is tender and comforting when you speak. There’s a certain seriousness in it, too, a firmness that lets him know how much you mean it. He wishes it didn’t affect him as much as it does. “Adrian and I used to be a thing, sure, but it’s not like that between us anymore. He and I are just friends now.”
“You mean the same way you and I are just friends?”
“Oh, wow, you really are jealous. Is that why you showed up tonight? You wanted to make sure there was nothing going on between me and my ex?”
“It couldn’t matter to me even if there was.” He tries not to sound bitter when he says it, but his efforts are hardly effective, the half-smile he forces tight-lipped and strained, even as he moves his hands to settle on your hips. “It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.”
“I didn’t think you’d ever want to be,” you admit, low and honest. And maybe he’s just imagining it, but he swears there’s a hint of disappointment in your voice, too, a sadness he isn’t quite sure how to make sense of. “I mean, back when we started all this, neither of us wanted a relationship. Has that changed?”
It takes all Sae has to keep himself from ripping his own hair out, because haven’t you been paying attention at all? Of course it’s changed. Do you really think he’d be here fighting with himself and agonizing over how to confess to you if it hadn’t?
He wants to tell you as much, can feel the words right there on the tip of his tongue, but his pride keeps him from saying them out loud, at least not until he knows exactly how you feel, too.
“Has it changed for you?”
“Not so fast, hotshot. I asked you first.”
He sighs. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.” The look you give him is as unapologetic as it is pointed, the sternness in your voice leaving little room for argument. “You almost walked away from me on my birthday, asshole. The least you can do now is answer my question.”
It’s a fair point, he knows, especially after everything he’s put you through tonight, but Sae is nothing if not completely awful when it comes to verbalizing his feelings. He knows it most likely won’t be enough to satisfy you, but he gives your hips a gentle squeeze anyway, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer. “Isn’t this answer enough?”
“Not even close,” you tell him flatly, every bit as unimpressed as he thought you’d be. “I want you to tell me how you really feel about me. And I want you to say it with your words, not just hold me or kiss me and expect me to read between the lines.”
“Words aren’t really my strong suit,” he mutters, more honest now than he’s been all night, averting his gaze to the floor.
“Try anyway.” You lift a hand and run your fingers through his hair the way you know he likes. It’s disarming enough to have him meeting your gaze once more. Your eyes are soft, searching. Patient, too, despite him, the way you always seem to be. “Come on, Sae. Is it really that hard for you to be honest with me?”
He laughs, though there isn’t any humor to it. “You have no idea.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not.”
“Are you okay with me dating other people?”
“Definitely not.”
“Why?”
Sae narrows his eyes, shooting you a flat look, because you know. You have to know. After everything he’s said, everything he’s done, there’s no way you haven’t pieced it together by now. “You already know why.”
“Oh, I do,” you confirm, smug and irritating as ever, smile bright and eyes knowing, “but I want to hear you say it, anyway.” You brush his hair out of his eyes, and he watches as your expression morphs into something softer, something fond and affectionate that makes his heart stutter the way it’s only ever done around you. “For me?”
And though it isn’t easy for him, though it goes against all of his better instincts and is quite possibly the last thing he’s ever wanted to do— for you, he decides to be sincere. “Fine.”
He takes a deep breath and forces himself to find the words, urged on by the weight of you in his arms and the tender, encouraging way you’re looking at him. It’s daunting for him to be this honest, not to mention completely unnerving, especially when you both know how bad he is with words in general— but for you, he’s willing to try.
“...I like you. I really, really like you, as in I have feelings for you, and this thing we’ve been doing, this casual, no strings, whatever the hell it is— it’s not enough for me anymore. And I want— I want to be with you. For real, this time, if— if you’ll have me.”
Sae snaps his mouth closed the moment he’s able to get the words out, bracing himself for your reaction. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting from you, exactly —rejection, reciprocation, maybe some backwards, nonsensical combination of them both— but he’s determined to be prepared for it regardless, determined to appear unaffected, even if it means he has to grit his teeth to do so.
But then you’re cupping his face in your hands, gaze soft and open and filled with the kind of affection he never once imagined he’d be on the receiving end of, and any notion he had of remaining unaffected is promptly cast aside, replaced by the warmth of your touch and the tender, fond way you look at him.
You lean in, and it’s all Sae can do to close his eyes as you press your lips against his in a slow, gentle kiss. The gesture is soft and surprisingly chaste, soft like the way he kissed you earlier, back when he was trying to communicate the extent of his feelings. It doesn’t last very long, but it doesn’t need to, not when he can feel it linger even after you pull away, delicate and deliberate, important in all the ways that matter.
When he opens his eyes, he finds that you’re already looking at him, your lips pulled into that soft little smile he doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of. Then you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his.
“I want to be with you, too,” you say, steady and sure, without a hint of regret or uncertainty, and Sae swears something in his chest cracks wide open, every bit of affection he’s ever felt for you pouring out until it’s all he knows, all he can feel. “As way more than just casual. I have for a while now.”
“You have?” The confession catches him off guard, makes his eyes widen a fraction as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze properly. “Since when?”
“Since your away game in France.” You say it naturally, doubtlessly, without any of the hesitation he would’ve had to grapple with to do the same thing. Not for the first time, he finds himself envying how easy you make it look, how effortless it is for you to be so honest and upfront about your feelings. “You were only gone for two weeks, but it felt like ages. Then you showed up to my apartment with pastries from that bakery your manager suggested, and they were amazing, but all I could think about was how happy I was that you were back. That’s when I knew I was in trouble.”
For a moment, Sae has no idea what to say. His away game in France was almost two months ago. You’ve had feelings for him since back then? If that was the case, then why didn’t you tell him? Had he really made you feel like you couldn’t talk to him about it?
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted to, but every time I thought about bringing it up, I’d remember what we said about keeping it casual. I figured if I said something, it’d scare you off. And I didn’t— I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t.”
You look down, then, averting your gaze, uncharacteristically nervous as you fidget with the buttons on his shirt. And as Sae watches you standing there in front of him, quiet and apprehensive in a way he’s never seen you before, he wonders if maybe he’s not the only one who’s been reluctant to be vulnerable, after all.
Things would be different if either one of you had said something sooner, he knows. If you’d been brave enough to let the other in. He imagines it would’ve saved you both a lot of time, knowing that it wasn’t just one-sided, that your feelings were returned.
But you’re still here. You both are, and that’s more than enough, he thinks. It’s everything.
(After all, Sae’s never wanted anything the way he wants you.)
It’s why he takes your chin in his hand, urging you to look up at him. For once, you don’t put up much of a fight, your eyes flickering up to meet his own.
That’s when he kisses you, soft and sweet, passionate and patient the way you’ve always been with him, the way he knows you deserve to have returned. He kisses you like he means it, like you have all the time in the world, because right now, you do. He kisses you, and he hopes you feel the promise in it, the one that this time, he won’t hesitate to say out loud.
“You don’t have to worry about losing me, dummy,” he tells you as soon as you break apart for air, breathless and sincere as he presses his forehead against yours. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
You smile at him, then, knowing how much he means it, bright and beaming as you take his hand in yours and lace your fingers together.
“I’m not going anywhere, either,” you promise, and the best part is, you don’t.
When the two of you go back inside to rejoin the party, you do it together, your hand tucked securely into his, your fingers intertwined. You’re still wearing his jacket, still smiling at him in that warm, easy way of yours. He knows now for sure it’s something he’ll never get tired of, knows he’s going to spend the rest of the foreseeable future making sure he deserves it.
When your friends see you walk in holding hands with Sae, chaos ensues. Thankfully, the two of you are more than prepared for it, braving their onslaught of wolf-whistles and too-personal questions without missing a beat.
Somehow, Oliver and Aina are the loudest of the bunch, hooting and hollering in matching degrees of shock and excitement, despite already knowing what the two of you have been up to these past few months. Shidou isn’t far behind them, though he does lament Sae’s new taken status. He wraps an arm around each of your shoulders and very seriously offers himself up to the two of you as a willing volunteer for a threesome, should you ever find yourselves in the market for one.
You and Sae take it all in stride, enduring their teasing and answering their least invasive questions until finally you decide to use your birthday authority to put an end to their pestering, declaring in no uncertain terms that they all go back to celebrating. They complain about it, of course, well-meaning and meddlesome as they are, but still they do as you ask, cooing and waggling their eyebrows at you as they take their leave.
“I’m sorry our friends are all unhinged weirdos,” you apologize as soon as everyone else is gone, blunt and serious enough to make Sae laugh. You’re sitting in his lap on the couch, the two of you tucked away in a dark corner of the lounge in an attempt at finding some reprieve from all the chatter and excitement of the night. “And that they have no concept of what it means to mind their own business.”
He hums in acknowledgement, reassuring you with a kiss to your shoulder that there’s nothing you need to apologize for. You smile at the gesture and drape your arm around his shoulders in turn, using your other hand to press your palm against his cheek and make him look up at you.
It’s only then he notices the slight crease in your brow, the worry you’re trying your best to play off with a carefree smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “They didn’t scare you away, did they?”
“Not even close.” He shakes his head and squeezes at your hip, taking your hand in his to press a kiss against your palm. “You’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to get rid of me.”
“Good.” You wind your fingers through his, that smile he likes —maybe even loves— curving its way onto your lips. Happiness has always been a fickle thing for Sae, floating just outside of his reach, but he sees the way you look at him, feels the warmth of your skin against his, and he knows— it’s here. It’s you. It’s always been you. “I’m glad.”
Yeah, Sae thinks, shifting to meet you halfway as you lean down for his lips, only this time he doesn’t have to worry about hiding or burying his feelings. This time, he doesn’t have to do anything at all except kiss you, the girl he’s wanted for too long, the one he finally gets to call his. So am I.
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Written by: Dawn Taglist link
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chobunz · 2 months ago
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── “ just an extension cord. ” ( yjw ) 🎮
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๑ When you can’t tell if Jungwon’s actually upset with you for ruining his livestream or.. nah, he’s grateful. At least you like to think so.
pair: gamer bf!jungwon ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, blowjobs and handjobs on stream, raw s.x (DONT TRY THIS AT HOME KIDS !!), clit tease, revenge, giggly jungwon, thigh riding, light degradation, oral (f. rec), quick humour, sudden phone calls ?? | words: 2.2k
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“sunghoon ! god, you’re such a fucking dumbass.” the heated boy rolled his eyes, watching the ‘you lose’ sign appear on his screen. “good fucking game you ding dong.” he groaned loudly, frustrated to the core. everyone in jungwon’s stream knew him as a top tier player, losing made him feel like he let them all down, even though his fans would continue to cheer him on.
luv4evaaa: you got it next game jungwon, fighting !! ♡♡
takenbytheonenonlytoji: agh, how can someone still be so cute when they’re angry ㅠㅠ
jungwonsusedsock: he said ding dong !! HAJHJAHAHH (⁠ノ⁠≧⁠∇⁠≦⁠)⁠ノ⁠ ⁠ミ⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻
chewybiscuits: hoon and wonie give off such funny sibling vibes i love them sm.. *sigh..* (⁠。⁠ノ⁠ω⁠\⁠。⁠)
jungswrld: good game won !! you did your best that’s all that matters !!!
๑ ๑ ๑
his pupils scanned the screen giggling here and there from their remarks. even so, he still wanted to beat sunghoon’s ass for making him lose. “bro it wasn’t my fault ! we were surrounded !!” jungwon stared straight into the camera in disbelief, as if sunghoon could see. “since when was a 2v2 called being SURROUNDED ?” jungwon scoffed taking a sip from his sponsored energy drink. “ready up.”
๑ ๑ ๑
you could hear jungwon yelling and raging in the room down the hall of your shared one, spewing all types of curses and profanities. “such a baby..” you chuckled to yourself. you couldn’t lie, jungwon angry ? definitely had you on the sheets with your legs spread open. if you know you know. and this seems to be one of those situations, although, this time a little flick and rub won’t cut it. his fans knew he had a girlfriend, he introduced you anytime he got a chance. this time however, you wanted to avoid all of that and just get to business. now was the perfect time for that. it was dark meaning the only thing that was lit in his gaming room was his PC.
for some reason his door was open, which explained why you could hear him so clearly. you were supposed to be sneaking in, which meant it was time to go spy kids on his ass ! next thing you knew you were on all fours, like a kitten, crawling your way into his room slowly.. you knew he wouldn’t be able to hear you, but his stream would, so you had to stop every moment it’d go quiet. i guess we could say this mission was about 3 minutes long. anyway, you were under his desk which was all that mattered. you knew he had known you were under there, you’d accidentally bumped his foot trying to lower yourself down on your knees.
which took jungwon by surprise. he screamed, reacting hella dramatically. “what the fuck !” he snatched his headphones off his head pushing back from his desk to scan the area. “bro ? you good ? what’s up?” sunghoon checked on the yelping boy. once he’d seen it was you, holding up a finger to your lips indicating him to keep from telling them you���re currently in the room with him, he’d calmed down, a hand on his heaving chest.
no.1gojostan: ayo ? ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠`⁠)⁠┌
iloveboobss69420: AHAHAA WTF ?! UHM ? YOU OKAY ?
lightyagamismom: i rebuke, in the name of heeseung’s booty hairs. 。⁠:゚⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)゚⁠:⁠。 SAVE, HIM.
“naah, i’m good, just one of my extension cords grazed my leg. thought it was a spider or some shit.” jungwon quickly conjured up a lie, putting his headset back on. he wondered what you were doing down there, and the answer was nothing cause you were attempting to keep your laughter in. his eyes glanced at your sitting figure before looking back at the screen. reading, his eyes dashed through his comments.
“damn, it must’ve had you scared then, i promise you it’s just a cord. don’t need to keep checking kiddo.” sunghoon laughed through his mic.
“haha, funny.” jungwon ran around the map shooting sunghoon.
“stop it ! you’re such a dick !” sunghoon cried.
when you felt that the situation from before had calmed down, you started what you’d planned to do before even coming in this chatty room in the first place. your hands slid slowly against his calves, caressing them over the gray nike sweats he had on. jungwon wanted to look at you so bad, he really did. but to raise suspicion? he’d rather not. although he’d love to show everyone what he could do to you. he’d spare his little fans the sore sight.
continuing, you wrapped your arms around his waist with your head in his lap, hands caressing his lower backside. you could feel his growing bulge on your cheek, your lips coming down to kiss him over his clothed area. jungwon’s body had shivers, tensing up at the very feel of you, he’d gone completely mute from your touch. making him cough out of nervousness.
“jungwon, let’s go north, the leopard villa” sunghoon spun. he tried his best to keep his composure, thinking of ways to help the situation— ending his live abruptly? he would if he could. yet, it just wasn’t normal for him, he could stream for hours on end without any interruptions, his fans would worry if that happened.
“mmhm, good idea, for once..” he tempered a light groan.
while he spoke you’d been busy pulling his waistband down slightly enough for you to bring his shaft into view. the boy pursed his lips feeling your touch on his hard. your hands massaged him slowly, giving it a couple light strokes until it’s been replaced by your salivated mouth. you were limited to a slow pace, that was unless you wanted to be heard. starting off with the tip, your tongue slid across the red texture. you loved his tip the most when it came to his cock, for some reason it was the most satisfying part to mingle with, and it came with different amounts of surprises everytime you greeted it.
“fuck..” he muttered under his breath, he was battling with himself, it was like he was hit with this annoying need to lean back. your head bobbed up and down around his thickness, you were annoyed with the pace, so you quickened it juuuust a little bit, a gag was held at the back of your throat at he pushed on your tonsils.
his breathing was mid hoarse, but who could blame him. poor thing :((
chewybiscuits: urmmm.. is he okay ??.. *worry worry*
munch12340: hey bro ? you don’t sound too well..
catboyjungwon: wait, what happened ???
jungwon’s eyes immediately went to the chat. he felt his reactions weren’t concealed enough, scared that it might look too obvious what he’s currently up to. “hey chat.. i-.. yeah, i’m okay, my stomach just started paining.. badly..” his hand flew to your head as if he was touching his stomach. “damn it, i’m gonna end it here, i’m not.. feeling okay” he lied, sweat beading from his forehead.
“hoon, i’ll see you.. tomorrow? jungwon nation, goodnight ! rest well ! or good day, i dunno. bye !!” he rambled, mustering a quick bye to his friend and fans before quickly turning off his stream.
he immediately let out a moan of relief, “couldn’t have waited ? needy slut.” jungwon thrusted his hips into your mouth. this time, you were more than audible, he could feel the vibrations of your vocal before you pulled from him with a loud pop.
“are you mad at me ?,” you pouted at him teasily, your hands fondling his balls.
“tch.” jungwon scoffed, pulling you into his lap.
“so, no ?” you played with his hair, riding his thighs slowly.
“so, no?” he playfully mocked you. he loved the way you looked getting off on him, he loved the sight of you in pleasure. your gentle moaning snatching him of his sanity.
he took your hips in his grasp heaving you over his length, jerking himself before closing the gap between the two of you, all he had to do was move your panties to the side since you were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts. both moaning in sync at the tight fit.
“so big.. so full...mmh..” you cried, wrapping your arms around his neck.
his hands found the flesh of your ass, guiding it into movement after slapping it once, or twice. throwing his head back at the feel. “god.. that’s right squeeze this dick baby..” he let go, pulling your shirt from it’s hem, throwing it off of your pure body. as you found it in you to bounce at a quicker pace allowing him to see your bare tits move in following.
the feel of your clit rubbing against his lower brung your high closer and closer. “fuck, so good..” your voice shakes when you clench around him. he immediately captures your lips in his.
it was as if he hoped to taste your juices through your mouth. the moment your high hit, so did his, you sat soaking his shaft— not to mention his clothes.
“you’re so fucking hot..” he panted against your mouth, picking you up and bringing you into the room next of yours before collapsing onto your figure when you’d settled back in bed.
“gonna fuck the shit out of this tight little cunt. ” he continued, “gonna fuck you so dumb.”
and he did just that, ruining you. he pumped his thick cock into your crying pussy like he depended on it. he wanted you to know you were his and his only.
“o-ahmm-,” you sighed, “jungwonnie.. so good, so good..” your left hand covered your eyes as the other went to play with your clit. the impact of his thrusting left you feeling numb.
“feels good, right ?” he chuckled at your pitiful state, he could feel you shaking beneath him.
“did i fuck this little cunt stupid ?” his body hovered over you slapping your thigh. “i did, didn’t i ?” he growls feeling himself throb inside you. your moaning and whining filled the room for a while, that was until you felt your high hit before you could even announce it.
“shit !..j-jungwon..” you panted heavily, grinding yourself on his paused figure. the pressure you had sitting on your clit drove you crazy.
jungwon pulled out, his length rubbed your folds. watching you squirm under him, he never understood the concept of shaking orgasms, but he liked to see it, he thought it looked the best on you.
“you’re so stinking cute, you know ?” his hands pleasured himself once he felt a knot flowing through his lower. coating your pretty, soaked, pussy in his pool of white.
“fuck..” he looked at you, seeing your furrowed brows looking at his phone that rang beside you. “who’s it ?” you picked it up feeling the weight of the bed shift as you read the caller ID.
“sunghoon ??” you spoke through a moan, his tongue dancing around your bud.
“answer it, princess” he says while going down on you.
“but he’ll-” he nibbled at the side of your folds.
“go on. put it on speaker.” and so you did, trying your best to keep the moaning to a minimum.
“sunghoon ?”
“y/n, hey how are you girl ! oh my gosh !”
you muster a laugh over the feeling you got between your legs. you knew sunghoon only did that high-pitched voice when you called. jungwon internally cringed..
“hi sunghoon ! what’s up?”
“not much, just checking on jungwon, he okay ? sounded like he was in pretty bad shape earlier.” he sounded genuinely concerned which made you feel a tad bit guilty— but not really.
“oh- he’s fine ..!”
now it was jungwon’s turn to take this time to put you in his shoes, he fastened the pace he put on your pussy, sucking, and kissing it’s clit before sliding his paired fingers in. he’s just getting his lick back, quite literally.
he watches you throw your hand over your mouth, arching your back at the feel of his fingers pushing into you.
“ah, good to hear then, i was thinking about coming over in a few, is that fine ? orr…”
it wouldn’t seem right if you said no, sunghoon was always welcome !
“i-.. sure, yeah ! mh.. you never have to ask.. you know that !” you felt your second high approaching, biting down on your lip to compress it..
“yeah well, i wouldn’t wanna disturb anything, i’ll be there soon, with takeout !”
“cool then ! call us when you arrive !”
“yeah, hopefully jungwon won’t be all up in your guts the next time i call, right ? ya’ll some freaks for real.”
he hung up after hearing you hum an awkward yes. you could hear jungwon laughing, retrieving his fingers from your wetness. “it’s not funny ! it’s not like you told me to stop when i went under your desk !” you whined.
“you didn’t tell me to stop either.” he looks at you with the most shit eating grin once he got closer to your face, peppering kisses on your cheeks.
“god you’re so embarrassing, and he’s coming over..” you’d rather hide in your closet until you could feel narnia arriving to snatch you from behind than see sunghoon face to face.
“it’s not that bad, at least he knows i treat you right !” he fails to make you feel any better, making you hit his chest, his laugh echoing through the room again.
“move you whore, i gotta pee.” you hear the doorbell ring, causing you to jump up and shriek. you quickly run into the bathroom closing it after yourself.
“i guess i’ll get it” the overall happy boy walks through the marbled floors.
once making it to the door, he’s met with sunghoon’s face, with some.. look ? plastered across it, whatever it was, jungwon bursted of laughter yet again.
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i may or may not have got a teensy bit carried away w this one hehehe, also thnx sm for 130+ follows btww !! (⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠(⁠^⁠ ⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠/
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veltana · 2 months ago
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Breaking point
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✦ Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~2,5k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Dub-con (proceed with caution if this might trigger you), pwp, smut and a bit of fluff at the end, possessive/protective!bucky, degredation (slut, fuck doll, cum-bucket), grinding, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, pet name (sweetheart).
✦ Summary: Bucky is done with you going out with losers.
✦ Note: This used to be called I will kill them if they touch you but I never liked that title so I renamed it! Also, you guys didn't know what you were voting for, but it was the banner for this story! Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome 💚
Masterlist | AO3
"Please don't scare this one away as you did last time," you beg and look at Bucky's reflection in the bathroom mirror. He makes a face where he's leaning against the door frame behind you and then sighs when you give him a look. "He wasn't worth shit if he didn't wanna fight for you," he points out.
Now it's your turn to sigh and you cross your arms, glaring at him. "He isn't supposed to fight for me on a first date. We're supposed to have a good time and hopefully fuck." Bucky's mouth hardens, and he looks away. He doesn’t like that, at all.
Ever since you became roommates he's been very protective of you, helping you with the smallest things, driving you everywhere you need to go, even if you can drive yourself. Sometimes it's overbearing but most of the time it's nice to have someone care for you like that.
Unfortunately, recently he's picked up a habit of intimidating the people you go on dates with. He stands behind you when they come to pick you up, and his large frame and cold stare make many of them cower. A few have turned around right away, others have asked if that's your boyfriend or something, thinking it was some type of open relationship/cuckold situation.
"Don't say shit like that," Bucky says through gritted teeth. "I don't wanna think about you fucking other people." You can't help the teasing smile that cracks your face. "Makes you jealous?" With a huff, Bucky pushes off and leaves you to continue.
Two hours later your makeup is done and your hair fixed to perfection. You sit on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, with a glass of wine, waiting until the last minute to put on the skin-tight dress. While scrolling on your phone, Bucky sits beside you with a beer. "So where's the loser taking you?" "Don't care,” you shrug. “Honestly, my priority tonight is to get laid. The previous ones were a little too… bland. But he seems promising." "What do you mean, bland?"
Putting your phone down you look at him, "You don't wanna hear this anyway, you'll just get mad," you point out. "I don't get mad," he defends. "Pfff, you're such a liar, I can see it in your eyes whenever I mention another guy." "Because you deserve the best and all I've seen is trash."
Irritated, you put your glass down too. "Why don't you pick for me then? Who would James Bucky Barnes deem worthy of fucking me?"
The grip on his beer is so hard his knuckles whiten and his lips are a thin line. When he doesn't answer you lean back and start to count people off.
"Well, Steve seems a bit too sweet for my taste but I mean I would not mind trying a slice of that all-American beefcake," you muse. "Sam is so charming and funny! That quick tongue would probably work wonders, if you know what I mean," you wink and watch as Bucky's eye twitch, his jaw clenched hard.
"Tony," you continue. "Well, he seems a little self-absorbed but maybe he's a really selfless lover. Won't hurt to check!" "Loki is so handsome," you bite your lip. "I would surrender my body to him in a heartbeat! But I've heard that he leaves people high and dry and that would be awful."
Tilting your head, you say, "Do you think Thor and Jane would be up for a threesome? I can just imagine eating her out while he fucks me from behind and then we could-"
With a slam he puts the bottle on the table and grabs your face with his hand forcefully, silencing your tirade of words and squeezing your cheeks so that your lips pucker.
The grip is close to bruising and it's an instant pull in your lower stomach. His eyes are black with anger, something you've never seen directed at you before. "No one," he hisses. "Not one of them is fucking you, I will kill them if they touch you."
His hand releases you and grabs your neck instead. You're shocked, and instantly so horny it hurts. Opening your mouth to speak he squeezes harder, making a wheezing sound come out.
"I'll give you a chance to stop this. Tell me right now you don't want this and we'll act as if nothing happened. Otherwise, I'm fucking you into this couch until you can't remember your goddamn name." When he finishes his grip lightens. The rush of blood makes you euphoric and boneless. You want to give yourself to him, let him do whatever he wants. "Fuck me," you whisper.
The kiss is more teeth than lips and the hold around your throat hardens again. You try to keep up with him but it's impossible as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch, making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. You gasp for air as he pulls away, releasing you. His gaze is brimming with lust and want now, all signs of anger gone. Then he pushes you down onto the couch.
"You're a kinky little slut, aren't you sweetheart?" he mocks and leans in over you, spreading your legs with his. All you can do is nod and try to wiggle close so you can press your center against his clothed cock. It's clearly outlined in his sweatpants and you hope it's as big as it seems. "If I put my hand down your pants, are you gonna be wet for me?" "Yes Bucky," you whine.
The throbbing is almost unbearable and his smirk is downright sinful. "Come on, rub yourself on me, show me how much you want it." With another whine, you brace yourself against the couch and lift your hips. He doesn't move a muscle to help as you struggle to find the right position.
"That's disappointing," Bucky smacks his lips and frowns. "Thought you wanted this." "I do Bucky, I do, please I'm trying," you tell him desperately. With effort, you get into a good enough position to grind your cunt on his cock through the layers of clothing. It's not nearly enough to curb the ache.
"Useless," Bucky sighs and grabs your legs. "Do I have to do everything?" He pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you in half and pushing his cock right into your core.
"Sorry," you moan. His mean words have only made you needier and you move yourself against him with abandon. Bucky is motionless above you, not making a sound or saying a word, just staring at you chasing your high. Your movements turn unsteady when you start to come close.
If you were of sound mind you would notice the glint in his eyes but instead, you’re barreling towards your climax. Until he suddenly moves away.
Gawking you stare at him and he just smiles wickedly in return. "Take off your clothes, spread your legs" he instructs and you quickly pull your pants off and discard your t-shirt and underwear, spreading your legs as best you can on the couch. Bucky takes in your bare body, moving his hands slowly down your thighs until his palms frame your pussy.
"Fucking shaved for him too,” he notes with a snarl. You're not sure why that upset him. "Sorry!" you say, just to be safe.
"I don't need your hair curled, your make-up done or your whole body shaved. I will fuck you anyway, sweetheart, no matter what you look like because you belong to me," he growls before he spits on your cunt, sending a rush through you, making you moan and spread your legs even more.
For the first time, he touches you properly, letting his fingers spread the spit all over your pussy before shoving two of them into your soaked core. He pistons them in and out, putting his thumb against your clit and making colors burst before you.
"You want to come on my fingers, you fucking slut?" When you nod frantically he instructs, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." A second after you do spit lands on your tongue and droplets on your face. It nearly tips you over.
"Swallow it," he orders and watches you as you do, some form of approval shining in his eyes for the first time. "Who do you belong to?"
The question is too complicated to understand, you can't focus on what he wants. "I don't…" is all that comes out.
"Wrong answer," he says and removes his fingers, making you shout in disappointment. Sharp slaps land on your wet cunt and you instinctively try to move away from it, but he grabs your legs, pulling you back. "Don't you fucking run from me."
"I'm sorry," you cry, looking pleadingly at him. "I'm- I'm yours James, yours to do what you want with. Please, please, please let me come!"
With a huff he pushes his fingers back in, pressing the tips into your g-spot and getting his thumb back on your clit. His unbothered state makes you feel so small and insignificant, heightening the pleasure coursing through you.
As it climbs, your body shakes, your legs trembling from being held open. "I'm- I'm- don't stop!" you beg. Closing your eyes you focus on the feeling of him, his other hand still gripping your thigh hard. You hope it bruises.
"I can feel you, slut!" Bucky's voice is the cherry on top of everything. "Come on my fingers, do it, come for me!" he commands and of course, you do as he wants. With a scream you convulse, almost pushing him out with the sensation flooding you. Bucky is talking above you but you're not sure what he's saying because all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears.
A hard tap against your cheek makes you open your eyes. "Don't pass out on me, I'm not done with you yet." "Wouldn't dream of it," you smile dumbly, and it earns you a smile in return. But it quickly passes as he pulls off his tank top and pushes down his pants. The cock is just as big as you hoped.
He rubs the head against your soaked center, sending overwhelming sparks through you, making you twitch. When he notches the head of his dick at your opening your blood freezes. "C-condom?" you stutter.
Cocking his head he asks. "Do you really want that? Doesn't a slut like you want to be filled up with cum?" "Y-yes, but, Bucky…" you gnaw your lip.
"I want to fuck my little cum-bucket raw, make sure you feel me running out of you for days," he gives a light thrust, almost pushing inside, giving you a taste of heaven. For a second you look at each other and Bucky presses in just a little bit more. It decides it for you. "Please fill me with your cum Bucky, I need it so bad!" you whine and he chuckles before shoving his fat cock into you without mercy.
Quickly you wrap your legs around his hips, meeting his hard thrusts that are sending your body into overdrive. "Feel so fucking good sweetheart, your cunt was made for me, wasn't it?" he groans. "Yes it was," you answer breathlessly.
He grabs your face. "Those other losers are never going to satisfy you." "No, Bucky, only you!" "That's right, you're my fuckdoll now, sweetheart," he says before he leans down to kiss you. It's much sweeter this time and you grab his head, carding your fingers through his hair, feeling your chest fill with another type of warmth.
When he pulls back he says, "Beg me not to come in you." Your cunt clenches and your second orgasm is suddenly a lot closer. "Bucky, please don't… I can't get pregnant," you make your voice small and frail.
In response his laugh is cruel. "Yes you will, your purpose in life is to be bred. I'm going to cum in you every day til it sticks and then everyone will know who you belong to." "Please, pull out," you beg and reach down to rub your clit, feeling the climax shimmering underneath your skin.
"Such a bad liar, sweetheart," he chuckles. "Are you going to come on my cock? Are you gonna claim me just as I claim you?" "Yes! I just need- harder!" you pant. "Fucking hell," Bucky grunts and does as you demand.
The climax rips through you with little regard for your sanity. The sound leaving your throat makes it raw and a second later Bucky moans your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It's almost good enough to feel him finish inside you that you come again, but you’re too spent to do more than shudder.
Then he kisses you again, sweetly, caringly, and pushes his arms in under your body to hug you close to him. "So perfect," he whispers against your mouth. The cums start to trickle out onto the couch but neither of you care, too caught up in each other's lips.
"How are you doing sweetheart?" he asks when he comes up for a breath. "I feel a little high," you confess. "Haven't been fucked that good in a long time."
There is something in his gaze that shifts and he leans his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry. I just… I couldn't take it anymore… I like you so much." "Lucky for you I get off on that stuff," you smile. "And if I had said stop I trust you would have."
He hugs you so hard you can hardly breathe. "Of course, I fucking would." "You can make it up to me by going tender the next time," you smile. "Next time?" "As many times as you’ll have me." He laughs into your skin. "I don't think you're ready for that!"
Suddenly the sound of the doorbell jerks the two of you apart. You stare at Bucky with wide eyes. "My date," you whisper, horrified.
With a smirk, he raises himself on his arms. "I should make you go on that date with my cum running out of you, maybe even let him get as far as spreading your legs just to see that you’re already claimed."
With a groan, you cover your face with your hands. "Don't tempt me," you tell him before wiggling out from under him, finding your clothes, and hastily pulling them on.
Opening the door just a crack, you understand you look a mess by the way your date eyes you. "Sorry," your voice is small. "I wasn't feeling great and then I fell asleep on the couch." "Yeah, you look terrible," the guy notes before handing you one of the ugliest bouquets you've ever seen. Quickly stepping away he says, "I'll call you." but you know he won't. "Great, I'll see you around," you respond before closing the door.
Bucky takes the flowers from you and shoves them in the trash before grabbing you around the waist and kissing you again. "Didn't you say he was promising?" "I have no clue what you're talking about," you answer with a completely straight face but then start to giggle as he swoops you up and carries you to his bedroom.
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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 4 months ago
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the handyman
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pairing: neighbor! joel miller x f! reader
cws/tags: pure smut, DADDY KINK, oral m & f receiving, p in v (unprotected), an abundance of pet names, reader is under 21 but over 18 (for the plot), reader is kinda stupid, big dick joel, not beta read
summary: pwp honestly. basically a porn plot? idk joel comes over to reader's grandma's house to fix the smoke detector (which she broke) and he teaches her how to be a good girl.
a/n: don't ask why reader lives with her grandma, originally this was going to be longer and it was going to be more relevant
join my taglist!
wc: 2k
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You open the front door to and see an unfamiliar man standing at your doorstep – 40 something, jeans and a t-shirt, progressively more handsome the longer you look at him. You size him up, trying to decide what his intentions are.
“Whatever it is you’re selling – I don’t wanna buy it," you say.
He opens his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “I don’t even live here anyway, and before you ask she’s not home, so you can’t talk to her.”
“I ain’t here to sell you shit.”
“Well, I don’t wanna sign anything either.”
“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you to.”
“Then why are you here? I don’t have a lot of time before One Tree Hill comes back on, so make it quick.”
“I’m Joel. I live down the street. I’m here to fix your smoke detector.”
“Oh, in that case, come on in,” you say, changing your demeanor entirely as you realize that you really need to get in this man’s good graces.
“So, you’re ‘handyman’ grandma’s been talking about?” you ask, as you lead him to the kitchen.
“She’s been talking about me?”
“Yeah. She talks about you like you’re her boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”
“I dunno. I wasn’t really listening. I thought it might just be some dementia-induced delusion.”
“Well, she’s told me quite a bit about you.”
“Good things?”
“Better than the things she says about all of your other family members.”
“You know what they say, ‘if you don’t want people to talk badly about you, then you shouldn’t ruin Christmas.’”
“Uh-huh,” he says, only half-listening as he approaches the scene of the crime - a broken smoke detector, now just wires and plastic, lays on the kitchen counter. He studies it for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”
“It just fell off the wall.” You shrug, acting nonchalant and hoping he doesn't notice your shifty eyes from across the kitchen.
“No way,” he says – not with curious incredulity, but knowing disapproval.
He turns to you and crosses his arms over his chest, and engages you in a short staring contest.
“What?” you ask, feigning innocence.
Joel swipes the dish rag from the countertop and reveals the evidence you’d hidden under it like he's performing a magic trick.
He holds up the hammer, displaying it to you. He looks mostly disappointed in you - in an oddly paternal way, but also slightly amused, likely by how poorly you’d conducted this whole covert operation of yours. “Why’d you break it?”
“I didn’t break it.”
“Kid, I’m not an idiot. Just fess up, so we can fix it and move on.”
“Are you gonna tell on me?”
“You afraid of your meemaw’s wrath?” he teases.
“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”
“Should she be?”
“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted it to stop beeping.”
“It’s supposed to beep.”
You give him a pathetic pout that you hope works. It doesn’t. It only makes his gaze harden.
“I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette, and I really, really didn’t want to get in trouble… so when it went off, I panicked and hit it with the hammer.”
He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re a piece of work, kid. Making me come out here on my lunch break-”
“-I’m sorry," you interrupt, "I won’t do it again, so just please, please don’t tell on me.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I could offer you something… something to show my infinite remorse for my actions and my infinite gratitude to you for fixing the mess I made.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s your offer?”
His smirk makes you think you’re on the same page so you get down on your knees in front of him, but when you look up into his eyes, what stares back at you is complete bewilderment.
“Get up,” he says, offering you his hand.
“I thought…”
“I don’t think you were thinking,” he says condescendingly.
“You’ve gotta learn to listen to the thoughts up here,” he says, tapping you on your temple. “Not the ones down here.” His finger brushes against your clit.
The way he speaks to you only makes it worse, the throbbing, aching feeling between your legs. You can’t find a single thing to say that isn’t ‘please’ followed by some utterly depraved suggestion.
Joel turns back to his work, somehow unfazed by the interaction.
“Normally, I’d think this sounds a bit too chauvinistic to ask, but since you owe me, can you get me a beer from the garage?”
Oh fuck. Three strikes, you’re out.
“We don’t have any beer.”
“You sure about that? I just put a six pack in there last week.”
“Maybe my grandma drank them already…”
“Your grandmother said that Budweiser tastes like cat piss.”
“It does.”
“Yeah? And how would you know that? I thought you weren’t 21 yet. Who’s buying you alcohol?”
“I didn’t know they were yours.”
“Uh-huh, but I bet your grandma would’ve told you they were if you’d asked her. But she doesn’t know about your ‘habits’, does she?”
“No,” you admit weakly.
“Come here.”
You step towards him, and wait for him to give you an earful or to threaten to reveal your secrets.
“I’m reconsidering your little offer.”
Your face lights up at the opportunity to make things right, to expunge this from your record.
“So if I did that, we’d be cool, right?”
“Depends on how good you are, darlin’.”
For a second time that afternoon, you sink to your knees, but this time, Joel gives you the go-ahead. You try to balance the coyness you’ve seen women in the movies demonstrate with the eagerness you feel inside as you undo his belt.
With his jeans halfway down his legs, you place your palm over the bulge in his boxers and feel him twitch at your touch. When his cock is finally released from its confines, you try not to be too intimidated. Your confidence is falling but your arousal only rises.
You begin by wrapping your hand around him and stroking his length, setting a steady pace. Then, you tease the tip with kitten licks and hear his breath hitch when you flick your tongue across his slit.
There’s no way you can take him all the way down your throat – you’d probably bruise your esophagus. Still, you try, sputtering and letting saliva drip down your chin. You can’t help but feel a bit proud of yourself when he has to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says through heavy breaths.
You pull away, upset at what you perceive to be a failure. “You didn’t cum…”
“I almost did, baby girl, but I don’t want to yet.”
You feel a bit pathetic imagining how you must look from his perspective, with your teary eyes, begging him to let you go on.
“You wanna give me a good apology, right?” He nods slowly, looking into your eyes, prompting you to do the same.
“Then, I want you to come sit on the couch with me.”
He takes your hand and walks you to the living room, patronizing since the two rooms are connected. When Joel sits down on the couch, he pulls you into his lap.
“I was thinkin’ about what I said before – how you’re not using your head. You could be such a smart girl – a good girl - if only you could think with your brain. You just need a little bit of help.”
You can feel his hard cock poking through his boxers and rubbing against your pussy. It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your hips, just to get a bit of friction, a bit of relief.
His hand finds its way between your legs and he asks, “What’s gonna happen if I put my hand in your panties right now, baby? Are you gonna be wet?”
While you try to form a response that doesn’t make you sound too desperate, his fingers toy with your waistband. “Remember, baby, good girls are honest,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.
“Yeah, I am… wet.”
“For me?” His hand meets your bare skin and finds that you are, indeed, dripping wet. “Did I do this to you?”
“Uh-huh.” You arch into his touch, shamelessly using his fingers for your own pleasure.
“If you want more, you have to be a good girl.”
With the promise of a reward, you follow his implied instructions and still your hips.
“I’ll be good. I promise.”
He takes your word for it and begins rubbing circles on your clit. You could cum from that alone but he slips a finger inside you, curling it upward to meet that special spot.
Joel expects a response from you, but not the one he gets.
A single word: “Daddy…”
“Oh, baby. I get it now. Been needin’ daddy to take care of you.”
He’s right. You do need this. He can take care of you, you can be good for him. When he fucks you with his fingers, you swear you could fall in love with him.
But when he takes them away, you cry.
“Shh… It’s okay,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I wanna do something else. It’s gonna make you feel even better.”
Before you have a chance to think, your panties are on the floor and his head is between your thighs. You can feel his breath on your clit when he speaks. “I want you to be a good girl and cum on my face – can you do that?”
“Yes, daddy.” The word leaves your mouth more naturally than it probably should, it's almost instinctual.
Joel wastes no more time talking, knowing his tongue can convey much more when it runs along your folds, and his lips can elicit a better response when they suck lightly on your clit.
The only thing you have for him is moans accompanied by breathless chanting of “daddy, daddy, daddy.”
He hums into your core, an affirmative, a reminder that you are a good girl. You can do this.
You can cum for him. You will cum for him – there is nothing that can stop the euphoria that rushes through you. It’s the kind that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head.
Joel was right – the orgasm clears your mind. But the realization that the situation you’ve ended up in – naked on your grandmother’s couch with her middle-aged neighbor who is supposed to be fixing your mistake, not helping you make another - is a precarious one. Being a smart girl seems to be a double edged sword.
Euphemistically, speaking.
In truth, it’s Joel’s cock that’s fully-sheathed inside you. Pain and pleasure mix as he thrusts in and out of you. You swear he might split you open, but even if he quite literally tore you to pieces, you'd die happily.
“You’re takin’ it so well,” he tells you, “knew you’d be a good girl.”
And maybe it’s the praise, or maybe it’s his thumb on your clit, but you’re rapidly approaching a second orgasm. All you can do is hold onto Joel, dragging your nails down his back. He bites your neck in response, and hopefully he doesn’t intend for it be a deterrent, because it only serves to heighten your pleasure.
He slows his pace, but his hips slam into yours harder, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin in a steady rhythm.
“Whose pussy is this?”
You can’t breathe when the weight of his cock knocks the wind out of you, so he stops, allowing you to answer.
“Yours, daddy!”
His lips on yours are your cue to cum – or so you hope because it happens regardless of your will.
He has the sense to pull out and let his release spill onto your stomach.
You sigh, relaxing into the couch. “I need a cigarette,” you say.
“Did you not learn anything from today?”
“Mm-mm,” you say grinning dumbly.
Caught up in a daze – absolutely enraptured by his need to have you – he made the mistake of fucking you stupid.
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tteokdoroki · 8 months ago
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HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.
౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )
౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.
౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
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“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.” 
“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“ 
if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had  learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.
if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels. 
all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’
just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it. 
“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth. 
there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.” 
ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.
sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend. 
but you don’t believe that. 
and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces. 
“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”
by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes. 
once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.” 
“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards. 
his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel. 
sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it. 
tonight; his prey is you. 
the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you. 
tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.
kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.
his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.
god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look. 
a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold. 
except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you. 
“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip. 
but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth. 
“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.” 
it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond. 
within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family. 
“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on.  “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”
graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch. 
the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?” 
sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him. 
from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole. 
two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.
his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you. 
“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.
a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?” 
condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:
“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!” 
“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.
not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again. 
your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom. 
ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process. 
if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire. 
and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life. 
“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.
huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”
“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like  words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.
nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you. 
at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time. 
finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.
“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there. 
even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this. 
“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.  
“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”
your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”
fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels. 
somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact. 
“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.
“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?” 
sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?” 
the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach. 
he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone. 
“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?” 
losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet. 
“mph…fuck!” 
“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.” 
“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you. 
your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.
“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.” 
“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes. 
ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?” 
a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips. 
“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a  glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.
ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you. 
you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.” 
“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!” 
silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world. 
you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies. 
you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that. 
“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly. 
“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”
“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.
sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?” 
“m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you.  “i love you, love you s’much…love you,” 
the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm. 
“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks. 
pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.” 
“ryo!” 
“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.
still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain. 
you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?” 
“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.” 
“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.” 
but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with. 
you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.” 
and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere. special thanks to @yennified for the ask below !
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heesdove · 10 days ago
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easy, ma – l.hs
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꒰ 🍒 ꒱ ℒee ℋeeseung [희승] : 𝒟rabble!
𝓰enre. smut, fluff? .˚⊹ 𝓹airing. non-idol,,best friend heeseung x fem reader. ໒꒱ 𝔀arning(s). smut, pwp, consensual sex, petname use, praise, dirty talk, nipple play, soft dom!hee, sub!reader, piv, size training?, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!). 𝔀ord 𝓬t. 1221
𝓼ynopsis .ᐟ size training with your best friend during a sleepover. <3
꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝓶i 𝓷ote. this is my very first time writing smut, please understand that i may be incorrect in descriptions– feel free to correct me and offer your feedback!
if you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog! it's always appreciated :)
enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mi. ‹𝟹
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as usual, the morning began with breakfast at your favorite café in town– headed to campus afterward for your only lecture of the day. once you'd completed class, you'd returned home to relax until your best friend texted you, granting permission for you to come over.
from there, it remained ordinary as you gathered your sleepover bag and keys, shortly arriving at heeseung's within the hour.
he'd greeted you at the front door, smile on his lips and pearly whites on display. "hey, babydoll." his voice was raspy, as though he'd awoken from a nap.
"you okay? you sound tired, hee." you commented in concern, your voice so incredibly soft and sweet to him.
with a clear of his throat, he brushed it off by muttering, "just a long day." to which led you to step inside, your shoes abandoned in the entryway.
of course, you'd made yourself at home in his small flat– hints of you sprawled across the boy's space considering how often you'd see one another. you made way into his bedroom, plopping your tote bag onto his messy, clothes-ridden floor.
however, the air seemed unusual, tense even, as heeseung entered the room behind you.
pivoting, you face the boy with a skeptical furrow of your brows, eyeing him up and down– to which he awkwardly remains still, nervously shifting from side to side.
"why're you so quiet, seung?" you question with slight worry, yet mostly confusion due to his atypical silent behavior.
"babydoll." he tries to interrupt, taking a step forward as you continue to interrogate him.
"are you sure everything's okay? do you need some alone time?–" you continued to blabber, to which the boy paused right in front of you, hands settling upon your waist.
"y/n." his low voice finally reaches your ears, causing you to glance up and meet his eyes.
"i'm okay, really. it's just.. not something we freely talk about." he eases your concern, only to pique your curiosity further.
"but 's bothering you?" you ask yet another question, causing him to let out a soft laugh– earning a hesitant, half nod from him.
"well... i suppose you could say that, doll." heeseung responds, his lips curved in a soft smile at your attentiveness to him. one of his hands reach to brush a strand of hair from your face.
"then let's talk about it." you blurt, unaware of the topic on the boy's mind at that very moment.
"oh, you want to?" he questions, eyes darkening as he bites the corner of his lip.
"if it helps, mm-hm!" you confirm in a quick hum, nodding your head in gesture.
"alright, let's talk about it." he agrees, his lips curving up into a mischievous smile.
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"see that, sweetheart?" heeseung questions ever so softly, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear as he stands behind you. one of his arms encircled around your waist, the other extended from beneath your arm, phone in hand– your instagram story from hours ago on display.
"oh! my instagram story? mm-hm." you recognize the photo of you in a pair of petite sleep shorts and the zip-up hoodie you'd borrowed from him. "is it 'bout your hoodie? can give it back, hee." you try to make reason of why he'd be upset, misunderstanding completely.
" 'course not, baby. want you to keep it, actually." the boy responds with a low murmur, his lips lingering dangerously close to your neck.
"wait, then what's botherin' you?" your obliviousness would typically annoy the boy, but in this matter, he'd hoped for you to piece things together yourself.
he stepped even closer, his figure practically molded to yours.
and that's when you realize the issue at hand.
it leaves you speechless, how erected his cock is, from viewing just a mere photo of you.
"y/n, please. i understand if you don't want to do anything intimate with me, but i need to relieve myself because it's so painful." he admits with a soft grunt spilling past his lips, his hips rutting forward and pressing his erection against the plushness of your ass.
"no!" you protest, shifting in his hold to face him. "i– i mean no, as in don't do it by yourself." you add quickly, hoping to avoid any further misunderstanding.
"i'm sorry?" he mutters in confusion, his brows furrowing in surprise at your response.
"wanna help, hee. can make the pain go away." you reassure, reaching forward to palm him through the layers of his sweatpants and boxers.
earning another grunt from the boy, he breathlessly agrees with a small "fuck," and nod of his head.
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and that's what led to you straddled upon heeseung's lap on his gaming chair, naked and bare for his gaze– a sight he'd never forget, forever engraved in his mind.
not even sank onto his mushroom tip, you stare up at him nervously. one of his hands rests beneath the plush of your ass, the other extended toward your right breast, pinching and twisting your nipple between his forefinger and thumb.
earning a whimper from your lips, the boy smiles at the sight of you visibly melting into his touch. "c'mon, baby. start with the tip, i know you can do it." he encourages in a gentle tone, continuing to pleasure you by fondling your chest.
" 'm scared, seung." you admit, exhaling as you decide to begin sinking down onto his cock, the stretch being uncomfortable– but bearable due to the fact it was only the tip.
"doing so good for me, angel." he hisses at the sensitivity, the bulb of his cock throbbing as your warm cavern enveloped him. "gonna have this pussy trained for me in no time." he adds, fighting the urge to buck his hips and rut into you successfully.
"mmph, hee." you babble in discomfort, remaining still for a moment before sinking down even further, half of his cock being swallowed up by your gunmy walls.
heeseung was evidently enjoying the experience, despite the delicious anticipation of filling you to the brim– his head thrown back as he groans, both hands now grasping your hips.
"easy, ma." he regains his bearings, returning his gaze to you as he tries to help you ease onto his thick cock.
gasping for breath, you decide to simply go for it– sinking all the way onto his size, hands grasping at his shoulders, biceps; anything to ground yourself through the pleaseurable pain.
it wasn't as though you'd never been dicked down before, just that you'd never encountered someone of heeseung's inches and girth.
"mm, you're so tight." heeseung comments, humming in satisfaction of finally being fully sucked inside of you. his hips buck, fucking his tip further past your gumminess.
"oh, fuck!" you release a high-pitched whimper, your lips parting in an 'o'.
"i know, ma. told you that you could take all that cock." he coos, fingers gripping the skin of your hips so hard that the flesh protrudes between his fingers.
it wasn't long before you'd begun to bounce against his lap, the squelching of his cock's constant enter and exit of your pussy sounding throughout the room.
between his groans and grunts, the boy continued to praise you, his newest little cockslut– only to elicit needy whines from your lips in return.
it was obvious that by the end of the night, he'd have you fucked to the brink of dumb.
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bunnys-kisses · 1 month ago
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hi bunny! May I request a s'more,honey cruller and banana bread with a side of juice and earl grey for Franco Colapinto? Thanks love 🥰
bakery menu!
want to submit your own order? hit up the menu! there's tons of things to order! i write for a variety of fandoms! so please check out all the details, i'd love to hear from you! this is my second franco fic, the first one went over well, so i wanted to write more haha! i hope it's amazing and thank you @reddingtxn !!
s'more: "the accent gets to you, doesn't it?" + honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes." + banana bread: "i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." + juice: cockwarming + earl grey: big cock served by franco colapinto (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, cockwarming, teasing (clit play), big cock!franco, dirty talk,
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you wished franco gave you the heads up when you first got intimate. while you had been with other guys before, franco was your first serious relationship so you wanted it to work. but how was it supposed to work when you saw his cock for the first time.
eight inches was something you could visualize
he ran his fingers through your hair and smiled at you, he had already perfected the kind of smile that would make anyone swoon, "i forget how small you are sometimes." and that started your training towards getting more familiar with franco's size.
you swallowed as you sat there in his bedroom a few days later. you both had the time off because he had to go for racing and you were back at school. his goal was to get you used to the feeling of his cock before he left. and that wouldn't be achieved through a quick fuck, it had to be slow.
"such a beautiful girl." he said as he approached you in just his briefs. they were dark blue with white at the waistband. he crawled into bed with you and his dazzling eyes gleamed at you, "i know, i know. i promise it's not as scary as you think. you did so good the first time, taking me in your throat like that." his words curled in your mind. you hated that in a way he had such an effect on you.
"franco." you arched your back a little as he laid himself on top of you. his kisses were scattered across your chest and you moaned a little louder. his hands wandered your sides and you felt hot all over, a flush of heat through your body with anticipation for what was to come.
"the accent gets to you, doesn't it?" he laughed even as you pushed his face away in protest. but he kept those arms around you lovingly for a moment longer. he then sat himself up against the headboard of the bed and got his briefs off, "now, come on, beautiful. i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." his words made you shudder in the best way possible.
you pulled of your panties and bra before you got over to him. you swallowed when you got close enough to his cock. you took a moment to lean over and kiss his length which made him shudder. that felt good. he grabbed you by your hips and got you straddling his waist. you were facing the television at the far end of the room and away from him.
"i thought we were fucking?" you asked.
he kissed the back of your neck, "no, no. not in that way, i want you to get comfortable with my size before i leave. so you're going to cock warm me while we watch a movie tonight." he smiled before he sank you on his impressive size and watched you arch your back a little from the feeling.
it was a bit of a pain, but franco's kisses softened the feeling as you got yourself seated on him. you could feel it so deep inside of you. you could feel him in an intense way as he lazily wrapped an arm around you.
you relaxed a little while he looked around you to choose a movie to put on. you rested against him, only to tense up with his hand started to play with your clit. you moaned a little.
"shh, shh." he said, "i want to watch the movie. keep quiet, okay?" and felt you squirm a little against him which only excited him more. his cock twitched inside of you as you moved your hips a little. he held onto one of your hips while he continued to tease your clit.
"franco. honey." you swallowed, feeling the heat bloom in your cheeks. everything felt a little hotter all of a sudden, a rush of pleasure through your body as your boyfriend of the past little while played with your clit with a skilled precision. it made your heart hammer a little, the flush of heat through your core. of course franco knew exactly how to make you crumble.
"shhh, movie's starting." he said as he relaxed further against the headboard and wrapped one arm around your middle while his other hand played with your achy cunt. when you made too much noise, he simply shushed you. him doing that only emboldened the heat between your legs.
the stretch wasn't painful when he rocked his hips a little against you. he felt you close to him and it felt like a certain euphoria. you moaned a little bit and he leaned in a little further against you.
"franco." you swallowed quietly.
"mmm, beautiful. don't make me gag you, your panties are right there." he mused for a moment. the movie played in the background but, you ended up turned around and facing your lover. your cheek against his chest as his cock remained in you.
he kissed the top of your head and tried to play with your clit some more, but you were too close to him to get his hand back between your legs. so both arms were soon around you as he moved his hips a little bit. it was hard to deny the feeling, even with minimal movement. he was feeling the heat between you two.
"i can't take it anymore." he groaned as he rocked his hips against you gently. the pleasure was flooded in your brain that it didn't take long before you both came. first you, then him. it left you breathless with his heavy breathing against your back. the movie long forgotten.
you honestly didn't even know what he put on, but the pleasure clotting your brain was more important. you kissed him gently and he groaned into the kiss. eventually you just laid against him once more. letting the pleasure wash over both of you.
"do you think it'll fit easier now?" you asked.
he shifted a little and said, "not too sure, we might have to do it again." there was heat in his words and it made you excited to become more familiar with your boyfriend's large cock.
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obscure-imagines · 1 year ago
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distraction - Sanji
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🌀staring. Vinsmoke Sanji x afab!Reader
⚔️ preview. "Good for moss head. I didn't think he had it in him to take care of a girl like you... don't take offense, love, it's just clear you can be a little... pent-up. It's part of your charm, if you ask me." Sanji flashes you a wink. "Roronoa is high-strung too. I've always just been under the impression that if you're looking for sex - good sex, the type that leaves you... unable to think about anything else - well, at least one of you has to be able to let loose a little."
tw/cw. unprotected sex, multiple reader orgasms, pussy lover Sanji, dirty talk, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, mutual masturbation, sex in Zoro's bed, talking about Zoro during sex, jealousy, overstimulation, hair pulling, breast worship, big dick Sanji, cum play/filled kink, dick/bulge outline, deep penetration, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) love, sweet thing.
💦 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 4.1k
⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, fwb!zoro, friends to lovers Sanji, pwp, etc…
❄️ mlist + an. live action Sanji has such a specific diction/accent, I did my best to replicate it :)
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You stand along the rail of the ship, watching your friends row towards the island. The anger bubbling inside of you is only getting worse, and soon, it becomes too much for you to manage. Tearing your gaze from the sea, you storm toward the kitchen, in need of someone to vent to.
Sanji's prepping dinner, and his quick knife skills are made all the more impressive when he lifts his eyes from his work to assess you. He gives you a once-over, finishing the cucumber he's dicing before setting the sharp blade down. "Come on love, take a seat. Tell me what's wrong."
The chef is always able to read you like the back of his hand, and you do as he says, releasing a deep sigh as you plop into the chair in front of him. "I just wish they'd invited me to go to the island with them."
Sanji gives you an amused look, setting his palms flat on the table while he looks at you. "I think you mean, 'I wish Zoro had invited me to go to the island.'"
"You're too perceptive for your own good," you groan. "it's going to get you in trouble one of these days."
"Lucky for me I enjoy trouble," Sanji grins. "What is going on with you and moss head? Are you two... you know, going steady?"
You hate the way he says it, 'going steady,' as if you're both kids falling in love for the first time- part of you aches for that to be the truth of it all.
"Honestly? I don't know what we're doing," you admit. "I don't know what I'm doing."
"Well, start talking, and we can figure it out together, how's that sound, love?" Sanji suggests, picking up his knife to continue chopping vegetables.
"I just..." You take a deep breath, not sure where to start. "I thought Zoro and I were getting closer-"
"How close are we talking, sweet thing?" The chef grins slyly. "A little toss and tumble between the sheets?"
"Sanji!"
"That's a yes."
"Okay, fine, I'll admit it. We've slept together. Twice."
"Good for moss head," Sanji's smirk widens. "I didn't think he had it in him to take care of a girl like you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't take offense, love, it's just clear you can be a little... pent up. It's part of your charm, if you ask me." Sanji flashes you a wink. "Roronoa is high-strung too. I've always just been under the impression that if you're looking for sex - good sex, the type that leaves you unable to think about anything else - well, at least one of you has to be able to let loose a little."
You're a little shocked at his words, and you assess the chef. He's chopping vegetables smoothly, as if he didn't just drop a bit of a sexual wisdom bomb on you.
"I can let loose."
"Love, again, don't take this the wrong way but... that has yet to be seen."
"I'll prove it to you."
"Yeah?" Sanji sets his knife down again. "And how are you planning to do that, sweet thing?"
You swallow thickly, a proposition hanging on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you find yourself admitting, "You know... Zoro didn't even kiss me goodbye today."
"Bet he didn't make you cum either."
You shake your head.
"That's a damn shame," Sanji sighs. "A pretty little thing like you... I bet you taste as good as you look. If you were my girl, I'd have you for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert."
"Sanji-"
"You know what I think you need? A distraction. I think you need to explore other options- what's the line, the grass is always greener, or should I say, the moss?" He looks you up and down. "Only if you're interested, of course. We've got the time, your lover boy will be on the island for a couple of hours at least."
Your heart is thundering in your rib cage, and you can feel it all the way down to your core. Your mind might be fixed on Roronoa Zoro, but your pussy is screaming for Vinsmoke Sanji.
"Well... he's not my boyfriend..."
"Man didn't even kiss you goodbye before leaving you here with me, that's just stupid, but I've always suspected moss head to be a few utensils short of a full set, if you know what I mean."
You find yourself laughing, and you realize how much you enjoy listening to Sanji speak.
Zoro is always so quiet in bed, hardly moaning or whispering words of praise- you'd bet your life that Sanji is verbal while making someone come undone for him. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to hear him in that headspace.
"Let's do this," you say, shocked at how quiet your voice is.
"What was that, love? I didn't quite hear ya."
"I said... let's do this. You're right... I need a distraction... I need to cum." Your skin heats at your own admission, but you see the effect it has on Sanji. His pupils dilate with interest, and his breath catches.
"Come here," he instructs, placing his knife down and wiping his hands on the towel over his shoulder before tossing that to the table too.
Your feet carry you much too quickly to Sanji, and then you're standing in front of him, looking up into the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen.
He wets his lips, hands reaching for you. One grabs your hip and the other moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin. "Are you sure about this?" he asks. "You have to be sure."
"I'm sure. Fuck Zoro."
Sanji laughs, and his whole face lights up. "Fuck Zoro," he agrees, smashing his mouth to yours a moment later.
Your entire body relaxes, lips parting to allow his tongue further exploration- but at the same time, electric heat surges across your skin. It's much too easy to get lost in Sanji, your hands reaching to grab the front of his shirt, tugging him closer while he deepens the kiss.
You love the feeling of his hand still cupping your cheek, it's like an anchor. His lips taste like smoke, mint, and desperation, as if he's been waiting to do this for much too long.
The hand on your hip slips to the small of your back, and then it dips down further, giving your ass a gentle squeeze that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.
Sanji grins against your lips, taking the opportunity to pull away from you ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter open to look at him questioningly, and he simply smiles. "I like your sounds, sweet thing."
"I'll sound even sweeter with you inside me."
"Oh, I have no doubts about that." His thumb strokes your cheek. "Come on, love, let's get you to bed."
"You're not gonna fuck me here?" you ask, looking around at the kitchen.
"I want my first time with you to be on an actual mattress. We've got more than enough opportunity for me to bend you over one of these counters another day."
"You sound pretty certain we'll be doing this again."
"I'll let my skills speak for themselves, and you can be the judge of that."
He bends down, easily throwing you over his shoulder while you release a squeal of delight.
"I'd ask your bed or mine, but I've already got a place in mind," Sanji explains as he walks you toward the sleeping quarters.
You don't question him on it, but you're also not surprised when he gently tosses you down onto Zoro's bed.
"You're so bad," you laugh, grabbing at the familiar sheets while Sanji towers over you at the foot of the mattress.
"I thought you liked it bad in this bed," he teases. "Although, I'm about to change that."
Sanji sinks to his knees, grabbing at your leg to drag you closer. He reaches for the button and zipper, tugging your pants down in record time. He tosses them aside before his gaze narrows in on your core.
You watch the way his tongue licks at his lips, that familiar smirk returning. "You definitely look good enough to eat, love," he tells you. "Soaking right through your panties-" he hooks his fingers in the fabric, "How about you give these to me for safekeeping, yeah?"
"You want to keep them?" you ask, lifting your hips to aid in the removal of the last article of clothing keeping his mouth from your pussy.
"They'll be my very own One Piece," Sanji grins. "No matter what happens between us, if you gave me these, I think I'd be happy."
You can imagine him keeping them in his pocket as a constant reminder of you. Can imagine him reaching into his pants to touch them- wrapping your panties around his cock and using them to reach his own end-
God, Sanji is a bit of a perv, but you kind of love it.
You love knowing exactly the effect you have on him. Love knowing that he wants you like this.
You never know where you stand with Zoro, but with Sanji, things seem quite clear.
"You can keep them," you whisper, as he tugs the panties off your feet. "I want you to keep them."
"That's a sweet girl," he praises you, warm hands finding your calves to tug you even closer to his awaiting mouth. "Gonna taste you now. Feel free to grab my hair and pull- in fact, I kinda wish you would."
"God, Sanji-" you whimper, feeling his breath on your hot core.
"My name has never sounded prettier than right now, moaned from your lips," Sanji tells you, flashing you a wink as you reach for his hair.
He all but dives into you, pressing himself close to your pussy and licking you for all you're worth. His tongue parts your folds, teasing up to your clit and circling before dipping down, pushing gently into your hole and licking-
Sanji is everywhere, worshiping every part of your pussy while you whimper and moan. Your eyes close, your head lolling back against the mattress, your body consumed by his motions.
You can feel him smirking against you, and it's clear he's enjoying the sounds he's already working out of you. His hands massage your thighs, keeping them spread so he has full access to you with his perfect tongue.
When his lips suction around your clit, your pussy throbs desperately, and you tighten your grip in his hair, crying out his name while you begin to rut against his face.
Sanji groans against you, and you realize he enjoys the way you're trying to use him for your own satisfaction. He doesn't tease, doesn't move his tongue away, he keeps doing exactly what he'd done to earn this reaction from you.
No one has ever sucked on your clit like this, his mouth hot and wet while his tongue flicks at the sensitive bud- You can feel an orgasm rising quickly in the pit of your stomach.
Your skin is tingling with pleasure, muscles tightening with your impending release.
"Sanji-" you whine, "Fuck, please don't stop, I'm so close-"
If anything, he works your clit even harder, and it's all you need to topple over the edge. Your thighs shake around his head, his hands keeping them spread while your orgasm surges through you like wildfire.
Your hips buck toward his face, pussy clenching around nothing as he works you through your high. His tongue laps at your pussy, collecting every drop of your cum that begins to drip out of your pussy from how deep your pleasure contractions are.
Sanji is moaning as he worships you, and each vibration against your clit has your body shaking again, prolonging your orgasm until you feel tears in your eyes and your stomach almost hurts from how hard you've just cum.
He pulls away from your pussy and you let out a whimper, closing your legs and trying to catch your breath.
"You definitely taste as sweet as you look, pretty thing," he praises you. Then you feel his hand cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Sorry for making you cry."
"It's okay," you say, but your voice is shaky. "I've just... I've never cum like that."
"Just wait till you feel what I'm going to give you next, love." Sanji pinches your chin. "If you can take another."
You swallow thickly, opening your eyes to look up at him. "I can take another. I want your cock-" Your pussy throbs at the mere idea of him, and you stifle a groan. "Please-"
"How could I say no to a pretty thing like you?" he asks, bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips before standing up again.
You watch as he begins to undo his button-up, and after a moment of being transfixed by each newly exposed piece of skin, you remove your own shirt.
"Fucking hell," Sanji shrugs off his top, and you nearly drool at his ripped physique, "Roronoa really fumbled this one, didn't he, love? Look at you- you're an absolute stunner."
"You're not so bad yourself," you grin, relaxing back against the bed and spreading your legs for him. "Come on, Sanji, I think we both need a distraction."
"Am I talking about Zoro too much?" he laughs, undoing his pants. "My bad, guess I just can't stop thanking the guy- if he hadn't messed up, I would have never gotten this chance with you."
"Have you been waiting for a chance for a while?"
"Since I first laid eyes on ya," Sanji admits. "But, it was clear you had a thing for moss head, so I kept my distance."
"I'm glad you're not keeping your distance anymore."
"We're about to be closer than ever," he agrees. "Lemme just grab a condom-"
"No condom," you insist. "I'm uh- I've got birth control."
Sanji looks you up and down. "Sorry, it's just- you're telling me, you let Roronoa fuck you raw, and he still didn't bother to kiss you goodbye today?"
"Thanks for rubbing it in," you frown.
"My bad, love," Sanji gets onto the bed between your legs, leaning over you so he can kiss you gently. "I'm just- a little shocked is all."
"You're not only fucking me to get back at him, right?" you ask, wrapping your arms around Sanji's strong shoulders. "I mean... I know you two don't really get along-"
"Don't ever think that," he tells you. "I like you because you're you- this whole Roronoa thing is just an added bonus."
"An added bonus," you sigh. "You make it sound like you're toddlers fighting over a toy."
"Trust me, sweet thing, after this, you're going to be mine. If you're not already. What was it you said? You've never cum like I just made you cum?"
You laugh. "I want another," you grin, teasing your lips over his own.
"In a moment," he responds, slipping his hand down to your core, teasing you with two fingers. "Gotta make sure you're ready for me."
As he pushes his digits into your pussy, you reach for his cock. It's already leaking sticky precum against your abdomen, and you collect it, using it as lube so you can stroke him gently, teasing your thumb over the tip.
"Fuck, sweet thing," Sanji groans, dipping his head so he can look down at where you're both touching each other. "You already feel so good."
Instead of responding, you simply kiss him, using your free hand to grab the back of his head. You don't want him pulling away, you want to feel his tongue while his fingers fuck you harder, pumping easily into your wet core as you stroke his pretty cock.
You love the sounds he's making. When you squeeze him harder, he practically whimpers, hips thrusting forward, cock gliding through your hold.
Your pussy throbs desperately around his fingers as he scissors them inside of you, spreading you open.
"Please, Sanji," you groan, "I need you-"
He pulls his digits from your core, lifting them to his lips to suck clean. You watch in awe at the way he moans from your taste- no one has ever reacted to you like this before, acting as if you're their favorite dessert, and it does something to you-
Sanji is changing everything you thought you knew about sex. Where most men have eaten you out as a duty, Sanji treats it like it's his pleasure, and you know he's being genuine.
He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you let go of him to steady your grip on his strong shoulders, heart racing as he lines himself up with your aching hole.
"Please, please, please-" you whimper, leaning up to kiss him feverishly while he sinks the head of his cock into you.
The stretch is amazing- as much as you've enjoyed Zoro, Sanji is definitely girthier. The swordsman might have half an inch on the chef, but nothing feels like being split open on the cock of a man who just made you cum so hard you saw stars and cried about it.
You groan as his tongue swiped by your own, and he swallows up your sounds while your pussy swallows up his cock, inch after delicious inch. When he bottoms out, you throw your head back against the pillows, digging your nails into his shoulders. His lips find your throat and he peppers your skin in wet kisses, allowing you to get used to his size.
"Fuck me," you instruct, core throbbing around him- you need movement like you need Sanji, desperately.
"Only cuz ya asked so nicely, love," he grins.
His first thrust has your toes curling. His mouth picks up on your throat again, and he finds your sweet spot much too easily while he begins fucking you. Sanji's motions are fluid, almost dancer-like, and each smack of his hips against your own has the tip of his cock kissing your cervix-
"Oh my God," you whimper, threading a hand through his soft hair and gently tugging, earning yourself a moan against your neck. "You're so deep-"
"Roronoa never took care of you properly, did he, sweet thing?"
You don't want to talk about Zoro anymore. You want to focus on Sanji. He's not much of a distraction if he keeps bringing up the moss-haired man.
Instead of answering, you simply push on his chest. Sanji is quick to pull away, and you roll on top of him, straddling his hips. You sit up, pressing your palms flat to his chest while he stares up at you.
Zoro's only ever fucked you doggy style and missionary. He doesn't let you top, doesn't let you have control like this. And even if he ever had, you doubt he'd be looking up at you the way Sanji is.
"Tell me how good it feels," you instruct, rolling your hips. At this angle, Sanji's buried completely in your wet cunt, and the slightest of motions feels like heaven.
"Fuck, love," Sanji's hands move up to cup your breasts, rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers. "You feel perfect. I could watch you ride me for hours and I'd be the happiest man on the ship- Happiest man in the entire ocean."
You throw your head back, riding him gently, getting used to the rhythm and the sensation in your thighs.
"There's no one like you," Sanji continues. "You're taking me so well- It's like this pussy was made for me." He sits up abruptly, pressing one hand to the bed to hold himself up while his breath ghosts over your chest. "You were made for me, weren't you, sweetheart?"
"Maybe you were made for me," you counter, riding him faster.
"Made for each other," he concedes, leaning forward to capture one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive nub.
You groan at the feeling, your pussy clenching tight around his cock.
"I'd love to watch you cum like this," he tells you, looking up at you, eyes twinkling with adoration. "If you cum while on top, I might just have to worship you forever."
"Forever?"
"'M never gonna be able to get this out of my head. You're all I'm going to be thinking about, day and night."
"Sanji," you whimper, loving what his words do to you.
"That's it, love, squeezing me so well- I want to watch you cum again. You're so beautiful when you cum."
You grab at his shoulders, using him for leverage as you bounce harder on his cock. Each meeting of your hips has his cock driving as deep as possible.
"Lean back for me, love," Sanji prompts, gentle fingers finding your throat, helping you tilt your body ever so slightly- "Fuck," he grabs your hand, placing your palm over your abdomen. "Feel how fucking deep I am?"
You can definitely feel the slight outline of his cock, made more obvious by the slight contortion of your body.
It's one of the sexiest things you've ever experienced.
"Sanji-" you whisper again, mind completely numb except for his name, repeated like a mantra-
"I know, love, I know. I'm close too- can't believe you're gonna let me fill you up- It's gonna feel so good. You're gonna be right propper full, the way you deserve-"
"Oh my God-" It's getting harder and harder for you to ride him, body teetering on the edge of pleasure-
"C'm here," Sanji instructs, hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you back down with him as he falls onto the bed again, adjusting bellow you. "I can feel you shaking love, let me take over."
You practically collapse against his strong chest, holding yourself over his cock as he begins to drive up into you. One of his hands is on your hip, but the other slips between your bodies, expert fingers finding your clit-
You practically explode on his cock, letting out a squeal as you bury your face in against his throat, pressing gasped kisses to his skin. Your pussy contracts tightly around his thick length, and from the moans leaving Sanji's lips, you can tell he's fallen over the edge too.
You can feel his thick cum coating your inner walls- there's so much of it, you can even feel it on his shaft with each bounce. He fucks you through your highs, making the prettiest sounds, holding you tight to his chest.
You allow yourself to get lost in the sensation of him. Mind going numb. All that matters is you and him.
As Sanji's thrusts begin to slow, he grabs your hips with both hands. One slips to the small of your back, and then to your ass, squeezing as he helps you seat yourself entirely on his cock, your bodies flush together.
He's breathing heavily in your ear as you continue to kiss his throat.
You stay like that while your heart rates begin to slow again. Sanji strokes your skin, and you simply kiss him neck, teasing by his ear and making him shiver.
"Please tell me this won't be the only time," he says finally.
"It won't be the only time."
"What are you going to tell Roronoa?"
You sigh. "The truth. That I don't see him and me going anywhere, and that I have a better connection with you."
"Thank God."
"Were you really that worried?" you ask, pulling away from his neck. You sit up, and Sanji groans a little as his cock shifts inside your pussy. His hands find your hips.
"I guess..." He licks his lips, swallowing thickly. "I guess maybe I'm just used to rejection."
You like that he's being vulnerable with you like this. "You don't have to worry about that with me."
"No?" Sanji grins.
"Never."
"So if I asked for round two, you wouldn't reject me?"
You laugh. "You're horrible."
"Come on, sweet thing, you love it," he winks.
And honestly, he's kind of right.
He's right about a lot of things. He'd definitely been right about you needing to let loose a little, and now that he's shown you how to do that, you can't imagine ever going back.
Zoro may have been the start of your journey, but Sanji is the next chapter, and you can't wait to see what happens next.
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this one, check out my recent Mihawk fic here or my new Zoro one here
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here
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miaountainmama · 2 months ago
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capable
characters: jing yuan, fembodied!reader contains: pwp, shameless smut, gentle sex, lots of praise. he calls you beloved and bends you over his desk and also eats you out. also he's larger than you because he's like 6'3" so sorry if you're somehow his size. minors dni or i'll eat your bones
wc: 3829
a/n: FIRST HSR POST WOOOOO boothill is my man but i wrote this for my bf. he then told me jing yuan is talking to reader like a horse. everyone stone him
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“The Cloud Knights are already stretched thin as they are, so I don’t think it would be wise to dispatch them for this.”
You stare unseeing at Yanqing as he reports before the stairs in front of the desk in the Seat of Divine Foresight. On a normal day, you were a gold star employee, the perfect picture of Jing Yuan’s assistant: attentive, well-mannered, and adept at many things. However, it’s impossible to focus on Yanqing from where you stand by the railing— impossible to focus on anything but the feeling of the General’s golden eyes resting upon your form. You feel yourself being picked apart by his gaze, and though you attempt to maintain a cool facade, leaning against one of the posts of the railing, you can feel your collar getting a little hot under the unwavering attention. You can feel his eyes traveling, alternating between your face and the plush of your thighs being squeezed by your shorts. It’s an exposing feeling… not that you mind.
Jing Yuan, on the other hand, seems to have no problem paying attention to two things at once. He leans forward against his desk, his honeyed stare finally moving off of your body and back to the poor boy just doing his job. You try your best not to think about the way his hands flexed around the wooden surface, try your best not to think about how they’d feel holding you down instead. Your mouth slowly twists into a sly smirk at the idea as he opens his mouth to speak.
“I see. I suppose I will take care of this matter personally, as it seems my assistant looks a little… preoccupied at the moment. I am more than capable.”
Your eyes snap to his, losing their unfocused haze, and they narrow, a little embarrassed but not entirely displeased at being caught thinking about him. He’s already looking at you again, eyes half-lidded and glinting with mirth and unspoken hunger, and you match his expression.
“Oh… more than capable? Are we underestimating me now, General? I don’t take kindly to that, you know. Perhaps I’ll need you to show me just how… capable you can be,” you purr, wrapping your fingers around the railing and tilting your head forward to look at him through your lashes. His eyebrows raise minutely before he lets out a low rumble of a laugh from deep in his chest, looking pleased at the way you responded. He shifts forward as well, lips curling upwards, and he looks about ready to tease you right back before a voice cuts through the tension.
“Of course the General is capable. He’s the General, are you crazy?” Both of you look at Yanqing, completely oblivious to the mood in the room, and you resist the urge to sigh (and/or strangle him). Still, you take the interruption in stride. You can’t fault him for being just a boy.
“Seeing is believing, and I’m sure there’s a lot the General hasn’t shown me,” you say, not missing a beat. Yanqing looks about ready to interject again, ready to defend the General’s honor, but before he can, you hear the smooth lilt of Jing Yuan’s voice interrupt.
“It seems I haven’t been entirely open with my assistant. Yanqing, you’re free to go. I’ll work out the finer details with them. We’ll take it from here.”
“Are you sure? You don’t need me here to-”
“Yes, Yanqing, I’m sure. You have the rest of the day to do as you wish. Please, leave us,” Jing Yuan says, eyes never leaving you, and Yanqing gives a short bow and a “yes, General” before following orders, softly shutting the door and leaving the two of you alone. The two of you don’t blink, staring into each other’s eyes as you hear his quick footsteps fading away.
The moment the echoes disappear, he’s on you.
He has one large hand on your thigh, the other pulling you close by the small of your back, and your eyes immediately flutter shut in triumph. Yes, this is what you’ve been thinking of, yearning for all day. Your hands are in his hair, tugging his face closer and capturing his lips in a heated kiss, thumb brushing against the mole on his cheekbone. He’s bent over, neck craning down to reach you, and he walks you back slowly to sit you on his desk. You barely notice the cool feeling of the wood against your thighs, too preoccupied with getting more, feeling more. You reach for one of the belts around his waist, wanting to waste no time, but are stopped by Jing Yuan grabbing your wrist.
“What’s the rush, beloved?” he asks in a low voice, the slightest hint of a laugh gracing his tone. He guides your hand back up to hold his face and hair again before tilting your chin up and to the side with a finger. 
Everything Jing Yuan does to you, he does slowly. Painfully slowly, at times. This was one of those times.
“General,” you whine as he goes for where your neck meets your jaw, pressing a long, lingering kiss there. Still, he remains unbothered, though he does lightly nip at the skin with his teeth.
“Jing Yuan. You know you can call me anything you like when we’re alone,” he corrects, soothing the new red mark with his tongue. Already, he’s leaving you breathless, and you nod, feeling the heat rushing through your body at the pleasurable sensation. It’s not enough, though, and you tell him as much, pulling him closer by the hips,
“Then, Jing Yuan,” you say. “Hurry up already.”
Another kiss to your neck, another gentle laugh. “I have a whole lifetime to do as I please with you. Besides, you haven't pleaded your case convincingly enough,” he says, though he does indulge you a little by unhooking the clasp around your collar. You whine again as he pushes the fabric to the side, now pressing his lips against the crook of your neck.
“Pleaded my case? What, do you want me to beg you?” you ask, hands threading through his long white hair and tugging lightly, and you feel his lips curl into a lazy grin at the thought.
“Now that doesn’t sound so bad,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your thigh. His other hand wanders, caressing the curve of your waist, sliding upwards until it reaches the cutout in your shirt above your breasts. He moves his face from your neck as he slips his hand under the fabric, returning to kiss your lips as he cups a breast and teases a nipple with a finger. Your entire body jolts forward at the touch, back arching, and you let out a small noise into Jing Yuan’s lips as he kisses you. Again, you can feel his mouth curve into a slight smile at the action.
You’re incredibly needy by this point, heart racing, and you swear you’re probably going to have a wet spot through your shorts if he keeps going at this rate. Your core is aching for sensation, for sweet release.
“Jing Yuan,” you pant, pulling away from his kiss slightly. His eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze with his own golden eyes before he closes them again and pulls you back in, seeming just as unhurried as ever. You pull back a second time, more insistently this time.
“Jing Yuan, please,” you say, and you see something flash in his expression as his eyes open to look at you again. He reaches up to touch your face, and you realize you’ve found a sensitive spot— and you’ll exploit it as much as possible.
“Please,” you repeat, lacing your voice with as much need as possible, making sure to look directly into his eyes. On the outer rim of your vision you can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows once, something sparking through his face a second time. Once you drop a hand down to trail along his chest, he’s done for.
“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” he says, looking pleased, and he maneuvers you to stand with his hands. You follow his movements without complaint, though your face does burn as his fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts and pull down. He motions for you to sit back on the desk, so you step out of your shorts and do so, feeling the cool surface of the wood against your bare body. You swear you can feel your quickened pulse between your legs as he nudges them open and spreads them slightly, and you make a softly embarrassed noise as it displays how wet you are for him to see. However, his eyes sparkle with delight, and his right hand drops down to lightly touch you. When his finger pulls away from your core, it’s shiny from slick.
“Oh… now that’s a sight to see. Mind if I take a closer look?” he murmurs lowly, and you nod, not sure what he means but willing to let him do anything to you at this point. You blink in surprise as he drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling in between your legs, and you resist the urge to close them around his head in embarrassment as he comes face to face with your heat. He reaches out to touch again, gently spreading you open with his thumb, and your breath catches at the feeling. You say nothing, opting to let him do as he pleases, and he switches to tracing the lines of your folds with his middle finger. He’s slow, careful with it, and you feel incredibly lewd as his finger gets coated with your wetness. He traces his finger down again, and with one motion sends you reeling as he sticks it inside you to the knuckle.
He looks up at you from below, taking in your face as you watch him, your breath coming out in heavy pants as you feel your walls clenching and unclenching around his finger to adjust to the feeling. He gives you a moment of brief reprieve before he’s gently pumping it in and out, finding your clit with a thumb then leaning in to latch his lips around it. You let out a strangled moan at the feeling as he sucks on it, languidly stroking his tongue across the bud, your hands flying to his hair to steady yourself as he eats you out. It feels humiliatingly good, every slow drag of his tongue around your clit and every measured thrust of his finger sending you further into ecstasy. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand to muffle your sounds, but the moment you do so, Jing Yuan ceases in his actions, slowing to a stop and pulling away to look at you. 
“I don’t intend to hold anything back, so you shouldn’t either,” he says, coaxing you to lower your hand, and he hums in approval as you return it back to his hair. “Very good. Always so good for me.” 
He dives back in, sucking and swirling his tongue around, pumping his finger, and this time, you let your shaky moan of pleasure free. His hand tightens around your thigh when he hears it, going at you a little harder, and you respond in kind, tugging at the strands of his silky white hair. You’re so worked up that he’s getting you there embarrassingly fast— your walls begin to clench around his finger, and it doesn’t help when he slides a second one in, curled just right and hitting just the right places. His unhurried pace continues even as you suddenly jerk forward, a groan of his name leaving your lips as you release all over his fingers. Your head tilts back, mouth gasping and whimpering and making all sorts of wanton noises as your body twitches from the relentless stimulation. It’s not until your moans subdue somewhat that he pulls back, resting a cheek against your thigh and looking up at you with adoring eyes. You’re breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, though they twitch a bit when he removes his fingers from inside you. He wipes them on his pants, lightly caressing your inner thigh with the other hand. He presses a kiss to the skin there as you recover at least a little bit, though he doesn’t let you waste all the time he spent preparing you. After a few more seconds he’s smoothly climbing to his feet to tower over you again.
Jing Yuan grabs you by the hips, gently pulling you off the table. His grip is firm, and despite the slight weakness in your knees, he doesn’t let you fall.
“Careful, beloved. We can’t have you hurting yourself, now,” he says, still wearing that smug, lazy smile. You hum in acknowledgement, grabbing onto him to steady yourself, and he leans down to kiss you softly before turning you around so your back is to him. He pushes at the small of your back, carefully coaxing you to bend over at the waist over his desk and tracing down your spine as you fold over. You can feel his hands massage your hips for a brief moment before they’re gone, leaving you cold and wanting for his touch. You try your best to keep your eyes straight forward, though, looking out the window behind his desk as you hear the clink of his metal belt buckles. The belts are quickly tossed beside you on the desk, followed by the sound of fabric rustling, and your heart is pounding from anticipation as you hear him take a controlled, slow breath from behind. 
A warm hand returns to your hip, and you unconsciously lean into the touch.. “Are you ready, my love?” he asks, stepping closer, and you can feel the heat radiating from him— it makes you nearly salivate, imagining just what he’s going to do to you in a moment.
“Yeah. Please,” you reply, urging him on, and he chuckles lowly before you feel him slide his cockhead along the wetness between your legs. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the contact you’ve been waiting for for hours, hips bucking backwards.
“Easy, now,” he says, light laughter in his voice, though it sounds a little strained. Perhaps the need is getting to him too— it’s certainly getting to you, evident by the shallow, rushed breaths you’re taking. You don’t complain though as he coats himself in your slick, knowing it’ll help it feel better in the long run and knowing he’ll take his time no matter what you do. After he deems himself sufficiently lubricated, he holds himself steady, not quite inside you yet but prodding at your entrance. He holds still, just taking in the sight, the view of you at his complete mercy, and just when you’re about to turn around and tell him to hurry up he pushes forward, slowly, not wanting to hurt you. He’s always been large, but considering how much smaller you were than him, he feels he has to be extra careful.
Your breath hitches as he splits you open inch by inch, eyes fluttering half shut as you feel the stretch. A shaky moan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, his hands going to stroke your hips to soothe you.
“There we are. You’re doing well, beloved,” he says, voice smooth and soft, and you swear that him speaking just makes you feel that much better. He pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before lazily thrusting in again— it rips a heavy moan from deep in his chest, and, true to his word from earlier, he doesn’t hold anything back. As he sets a steady, slow pace, he’s not loud by any means, but he certainly doesn’t care to muffle his noises. His occasional groans and frequent words of praise make you clench around him, which just makes him groan even more. The room is filled with your noises, his noises, and the sound of slick skin against skin— and you get even louder when he reaches around you, swiping a finger against your wetness before beginning to gently rub at your clit. Your back arches further, head tilting back, as you let out the most debauched moan you ever have in your life. Jing Yuan chuckles from behind you.
“Does it feel good?” he teases, and your head lolls forward, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth from the feeling of him both inside and outside of you. 
“Yeah,” you whine. “So good.”
He hums in satisfaction, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder blade and upping his pace just a little bit. He’s certainly not going fast— it’s always been his style to carefully work you towards your climax, to enjoy the buildup rather than get you there immediately. Still, it sets pleasurable fire running through your veins, and your hands clench from where they’re holding onto the desk. Every drag of his cock inside you sends you closer to the edge, your body beginning to shake slightly. Your eyes are unseeing, too caught up in the feeling of in and out, in and out, circling around, rubbing, in and out. A warm feeling is beginning to stir in your gut, a tightness forming in your core, and you nearly salivate as you want more, need more. 
“Jing Yuan,” you whimper, wanting to convey as such but not having the capability to utter more than a few words at a time. “Jing Yuan,” you try again, and you hear the smile in his voice as he gently shushes you, thumb caressing your hip.
“It’s all right, my love, I understand. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and he begins to snap his hips deeper, still gentle but deeper. It rips a strangled moan from your throat, your eyelids fluttering, and that pleasured feeling grows tenfold. Your moans grow more frequent, more desperate, and you clench around him, trying your best to hold yourself back from cumming too fast. You’re breathing heavily, trying to control yourself, but then you feel him lean in over you again, murmuring close into your ear.
“You don’t have to hold back, beloved. Go ahead. I promise it’ll feel better,” he says, voice all warm and soft, and you take his words in stride— who are you to deny your General? A few more thrusts, a few more circles on your clit and you’re gone, neck snapping backwards as you let out a choked wail of pleasure, electricity flying through your entire body as your hands nearly leave imprints in the surface of the desk. Your vision blurs, likely due to the crystalline tears that have sprung to your eyes, and your back arches as your body seizes. Jing Yuan holds you steady, murmuring placating praises as your hips buck. He doesn’t stop his motions, fucking you through your high, and you swear your knees almost give out on you as the heat just doesn’t stop. Even once the ecstasy dulls somewhat, your moans subsiding by just a hair, pleasure remains, and you want him to keep going, keep going until you’re spent, until he’s spent, until the both of you collapse. You yourself are probably near the point of collapse at this point, legs like jelly, and, sensing this from where he’s half holding you up, Jing Yuan nudges one of your legs up so you’re half perched on his desk now.
“Careful, my love,” he says, still thrusting lazily into you, and you just whine back, now resting all your weight on the wood surface. He readjusts the hand that circles your clit to the new position, and the type of friction changes— all your nerves feel like they fry in response. Behind you, Jing Yuan’s breathing has deepened, though it remains steady and controlled. Only you know that it means he’s close— he only sounds this disciplined, this restrained when he’s trying not to cum. Occasionally, deep “mmmhh”s and “ah”s leave his lips, though they’re quiet, and Aeons, the thought of him letting go is so hot it makes your walls flutter and pulse around him. 
“Oh, beloved,” he groans at the feeling, hands tightening around your hips, and his thrusts are starting to get a bit sloppy, a little less rhythmic. The heat rises between the two of you, the air growing more frantic, and both of you are close, so close— you whimper his name, and his movements are getting shallower, a little more rapid. He leans down, pressing more of his body against yours, as if he’s suddenly desperate to feel you against him. One of his hands leaves your hip to brace himself against the desk, holding himself above you, and you can feel the feverish temperature radiating off his skin. His head lolls, a needy, strangled groan escaping his mouth, and that’s all it takes for the feeling to become unbearable again.
You come for the third time, and this time it’s the strongest it’s been— your noises reflect that. For a second you worry it sounds like you’re getting killed, but it feels so good you can’t even care. The noises are guttural, from deep in your chest, and as your hands tense you can feel Jing Yuan’s hand tense on your hip as well. 
“Ah, beloved,” he moans shamelessly into your ear, and then he’s gone too, delivering a thrust deep into you as you feel him spurt thick ropes of cum inside you. He doesn’t stop moving, still lazily grinding into you, both of you moaning, you whimpering as the pleasure plateaus and you become sensitive. Your hips jerk backwards, and he lets out a breathy, pleasure-coated laugh, following you and not letting up.
“Jing Yuan, too much, sensitive,” you gasp, and at this he finally slows, eventually coming to a stop still buried inside you. You’re panting, shaking slightly, and he hums in appreciation, straightening up with a groan and reaching forward to run a hand along the back of your shoulder. You both just stand there for a minute, breathing hard, before he sighs slightly in satisfaction and slowly pulls out, taking all his warmth with him. You make a disgruntled noise at the loss, though you know you can’t stay like this forever, and he gently rights you as well, tucking himself back into his pants. You turn to face him, sitting back on the desk while you recover, and watch as he leaves you to walk across the room, rummaging around for a second before returning with a glass of water.
“So, my dear assistant. Have I shown you how capable I can be, then?” he asks, that gleam in his eye returning, and you laugh, taking the glass from him and taking a big sip.
“Yeah. I dare say you have.”
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