#yeah i'm putting this in my selfship tag bc reader is how i'd act lmfao

[saetiate]

itoshi sae x f!reader smut, reader's mad at him for the media reporting he's dating someone else and he fucks you like it's an apology

“you know what they’re saying? ah-, about you and that girl?"

your voice is filled with malice even with his dick so far up inside of you that you can feel it in your throat, even with each gasp that leaves you as he slams into you hard, his hips meeting yours again and again.

truthfully, he doesn’t. he didn’t spare the article more than a glance. what some bullshit reporter chasing a title for cash said has never phased him.

he grabs you gently by the chin, fingers wrapping around either side of your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “if i fuck you on the balcony and let everyone see, would that satisfy you?” the way he thrusts into you doesn’t falter once, even as he presses a hungry kiss to your mouth, teeth nipping at your lower lip, breath ghosting over as he speaks. “then everyone will see i’m yours.”

you jerk your face out of his grip, eyes sharp. “the only thing they’ll see is what a fucking womanizer you are, you asshole.”

maybe they will, maybe they won’t. but he can feel the way you’re gushing around his cock when he mentions it, wetness seeping down to his balls, glints like moonbeam. he presses a thumb to your clit and watches your back arch into a crescent moon, always so responsive to him.

“please, please please —,” your voice comes out so wrecked it has him taking in a sharp breath. even as you hate him, slap your hands against his chest as you tell him exactly that, “i hate you i hate you,” followed by please, please.

if it was any other day, if it wasn’t truly his fault for even allowing himself to get photographed standing just a little too close to someone that wasn’t you, he might’ve teased you for it. made you beg even more, cooed at you for being so needy. but it is his fault, so he relents. gives you exactly what you want, circles your slick pearl and fucks you so hard the words you say turn into nothing, until the way you hit his chest turns into your nails scraping over his shoulders, down his back.

he watches you as you come, has to, with tears on your lashline and a high pitched whine. at least this way, he knows the tears are a good thing, that he’s fucked you right.

(he doesn't let himself come, considers it some kind of penance, like it might be the thing that sways the guilt that eats at his heart.)

“you’re so pretty.”

“fuck you,” you spit. “this doesn’t make us even.”

he grabs you by either side of your thighs and slams you back down onto his cock with a scream.

“yeah,” his hand presses against the headboard above you, until the wood creaks down with his weight, his warmth radiating against yours. “i got that.”