LITTLE DARK AGE

Speak Easy Part 6

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 4954

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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You had attempted to rush off to your room, but you hardly made it back into the house before your knees gave out. It wasn’t even because your legs were tired. If that were the case, you would have gladly crawled just to get away from him. No, you fell because your head was spinning.

You couldn’t seem to catch your breath as the world spun around you. You curled up on your side and let the tears silently stream down your cheeks. You didn’t know how to make it stop because you didn’t even know what was happening. Were you having another panic attack? Was it a side effect of drowning? Was this what it felt like to break Cogernot’s quirk?

Regardless you did as Dabi taught you. You closed your eyes, you took as deep of breaths as you could manage, and you counted.

You heard him step into the house and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he sat next to you. He made no attempts to touch you or say anything. Which was probably for the best because you could feel yourself on the verge of a mental break.

This was going to be the thing that pushed you over the edge. The whole time you’ve been here you’ve kept your shit together. In all fairness it was mostly due to Dabi’s strict routine. He didn’t give you time to wallow of feel sorry for yourself. From day one he focused on your recovery. But it wasn’t until now that you realized you never talked to him about what happened to you. It was almost as if he thought if the two of you didn’t talk about it, you would just somehow magically forget it ever happened. You bottled it up and pushed it away, but it was still there. Threatening to explode all over the progress you had made. Today just might be the day.

“I know you want nothing to do with me right now… but –“

Your eyes shot open to see him reaching a hand out to you. You smacked it away. ~Don’t touch~

Dabi visibly flinched. Why had you just signed at him? Had he not just broken you free of that shitty quirk? Had he failed? Was this all for nothing? He almost started to panic himself but then he remembered you HAD spoken. Even if your words dripped with hatred and your eyes cut him to the bone. You spoke… out loud…

He desperately wanted to pull you into his lap. To calm you down. To praise you and comfort you. But he knows he can’t. He’s lost that privilege. You don’t even need him anymore. You’re starting to walk just fine on your own now. You don’t need him… and he was the one who helped you get there.

The thought upset him more than it should have. He didn’t even want you here to begin with. How had you managed to crawl under his skin so much? You had wormed your way into his life and now every thought was consumed by you. Taking care of you, feeding you, making you strong again.

You slowly stood up and gave him one last glare before storming off to your room. Well in your head you stormed off, but in reality, it was more like a drunken wobble. You were still soaked to the bone and you were starting to shiver. You had made a puddle on the kitchen floor where you had been lying, and because that was just the kind of day you were having you slipped right through it.

Dabi was on his feet and hovering behind you. His hand gripped your elbow to steady you. You activated your quirk and let him feel the rage bubbling inside you. You wanted him to know how angry you were, how hurt and betrayed you felt. At first he gripped you tighter, but eventually your emotions overwhelmed him and he had to let go, just so he didn’t have to feel them anymore.

You ripped your arm away the second he dropped it and continued towards your room. You threw the door open and slammed it behind you. You slumped to the floor and did something you had needed to do for weeks now. You screamed. You let all of it out. Your anger, your fear, your heartache. You screamed until your throat was raw and your head pounded.

When you were done you took a deep breath, picked your head up, and let the numb wash over you. You stripped out of your wet clothes and hoped into a warm shower. The whole time the only thought in your head was ‘Why?’

The next few hours passed in a blur. You managed to get out of the shower and get into bed, but you couldn’t sleep. Your adrenaline was pumping. You couldn’t convince your body you were safe enough to sleep. It remained in fight or flight. You sat there in silence hugging the pillow to your chest.

It was so quiet that the creek of the floorboards outside you room made you jump. “Y/n… I know you’re mad at me… but you still need to eat something.” You heard him shuffle around a bit. “I’ll just leave it out here by the door. I’ll be in my room….”

You didn’t move from your spot on the bed until you heard his door close across the hall. Part of you knew that you needed to eat. But a larger part of you just… couldn’t. You didn’t understand. The food was right there, you just needed to open the door. But for some reason you just couldn’t make yourself do it. So instead you rolled over and pulled out your journal.

There was something ironic about you didn’t really need it anymore, yet now was the time you were most desperate to write in it. So you did. You poured your thoughts out page after page. Everything you wanted to say to Dabi, everything you wanted to say to Katsuki, to Izuku, to Todoroki and Kirishima. You started writing down memories of what had happened to you, in as much gory detail as you could remember. You wrote and you wrote and hours passed as you hunched over your notebook just looking for the right words to take the pain away. What would it take? What did you need to do to make yourself feel better?

It wasn’t until there was a soft knock on the door that you realized how deep into it you were. “Y/n… Be mad at me all you want, but don’t take it out on yourself. You need to eat something. Please. I made lunch. I’ll leave it here.” You heard the scraping of a plate being put on the floor outside your room.

How was that man capable of being such a monster, and yet so soft? He literally tried to kill you and now here he is worrying over you because you’re not hungry? Funny how dying tends to fuck with a person’s appetite.

You began to really think about Dabi. His motivation in all of this, what did he gain from helping you? Was he just doing his little brother a favor? Sometimes he treated you like his bratty little sister, and then there were nights like last night… You felt your face heat at the memory of you riding his thigh. It had felt so right at the time, but now it makes your stomach twist.

“Y/N! Can you at least say something, so I know that you’re fucking alive?”

The audacity of this fucking man. He wants to make sure you’re alive… after he almost killed you….

You picked up a cup that had been sitting on your nightstand and threw it at the door. It shattered on impact and it had felt to fucking good. There, that should be enough confirmation for him.

“GOD DAMNIT! ENOUGH Y/N! I’ve let you have your pity party. I don’t care if you’re mad at me. I don’t care if you want to throw a fucking tantrum. But you WILL eat something. This is getting fucking ridiculous.”

You picked up the lamp and threw that next. It was sturdier than the cup had been, so it wasn’t as satisfying but it got your point across none the less.

“Y/n… open the door please. We can talk about this.”

He had to have known your door wasn’t locked. It was one of the laws. It was one of your laws. Yet he made no attempt to open it. He remained on the other side with your uneaten food.

“Well if that’s how you want to be then fine. I guess I’ll just have to sit here and talk to the door then.” You heard him slide down the door as he sat down, leaning against it. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I need you to know that. I need you to know that I realize how fucked up what I did was. I don’t want to make excuses, but I do want to explain. And I want to do it when you can look me in the eye, so you know I’m not lying.”

Again, he was met with radio silence. He sat there for a long time. Finally, after what felt like hours he stood up, “I guess I’ll go start dinner then…”

You looked at the clock on the wall and was surprised to see how late it was. Usually around this time you’d be finishing up with the pool, you cringed. Yeah safe to safe you won’t be getting back in, probably ever.

Dabi forced himself to leave your door, carrying your second uneaten meal of the day with him. He woke up his laptop and started up the video for today’s lesson for sign language. He watched it as he cooked, but he didn’t absorb anything. He was too focused on trying to find a way to fix this.

His hands kept clenching and unclenching. He knew what he needed to do. But it was going to suck. If it would get you to eat though then he didn’t care.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew you wouldn’t die from not eating for a day. He was more worried about the psychological part of it. When he got out of the league, he had started messing around this hot shrink. She had a real savior complex, but the one thing she got right about him was his need for control. After being abused for so long he had to have control over every situation. Which sometimes when he really felt helpless included his eating habits. When everything else felt out of control, at least he could control that. At least he could decide when and if he ate. He was nervous you were pulling the same shit. He didn’t want to see you waste away because you were desperate for something you could control.

He’d swallow his pride. He’d do this for you.

A knock on the door had you groaning.

“Hey dork. It’s me. Dabi called and said you weren’t feeling well. I made some spicy ramen with pork… You gonna let me in before it gets cold?”

You jumped to your feet and ran to the door. You cracked it open at first to make sure it really was Katsuki and that he was alone.

He smirked at you through the small gap, “Don’t worry he’s not with me, now let me in before I kick the door down.”

He opened it enough for Katsuki to enter and then quickly shut it again. He waited and followed you over to you bed and took a seat at the foot of it. “So, Scarface was a little vague on the details, but he said you were mad at him and refusing to eat.” He placed the warm bowl of ramen into your hands, “Want to talk about it?”

Your stomach started to rumble at the familiar smell of Katsuki’s cooking. You couldn’t deny yourself any longer. You took a huge bite and almost moaned at how good it tasted. You quickly took a few more bites before wiping you mouth on your sleeve and sighing. You needed to talk about it, but was Katsuki really the best option for that? The chances of him blowing up the house was pretty high.

You reached a hand out and put in on top of his and released a calming feeling. “Uh oh…must be bad you’re already trying to calm me down.”

You gave him a halfhearted smile, “Uh… well…” The sound of your own voice made your skin crawl. It sounded wrong, even though you were pretty sure that’s how it always sounded. It made you pause for a moment to collect yourself.

In that brief pause Katauki’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, “Wait a fuckin minute! You’re talking again? Since when? Holy shit!” You could feel his excitement bubbling up along with pride and admiration. It was sweet, and it gave you the boost you needed to keep going.

You played with a strand of your hair, “Since…. Now…. I guess.” You averted your eyes embarrassed, “Or well… since I… well I kind of drowned… briefly.” You looked back up and saw fire behind Katsuki’s eyes and anger was coming off of him in waves.

“And where was Dabi when this happened?”

You knew you were practically signing Dabi’s death certificate but telling Katsuki this, but you weren’t going to cover for him either. “He was there….”

Katsuki’s fist clenched, “Don’t tell me the bastard watched you almost die and didn’t help you.” You bit your lip. “Y/n… what are you not telling me?”

You put both hands on him now desperately trying to overwhelm him with calm emotions. “He was the one who held me under…”

His hands tore away from yours as they crackled with a very real threat of explosions. He stood and stomped towards your door, not even bothering to ask you to elaborate. You knew you needed to stop him, there was no scenario where this ended well for anyone. “Katsuki stop.” He ignored you as he reached for the door. “Katsuki… please.”

He froze with his hand hovering over the doorknob. His voice was dark and oddly low,“Y/n… there is nothing you could possibly say to me right now that would change my mind about killing the mother fucker.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually about to defend Dabi, but it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t at least tell Katsuki the whole story. “Even I told you he did so I could talk again?”

He turned to look at you and signed as he spoke, “I still don’t care! You were learning sign… you were communicating just fine.” He threw his hands up in exasperation, “Why was him drowning you even fucking necessary?”

Katsuki was starting to take that familiar condescending tone with you and you honestly were not in the mood for it. He had done this a million times growing up. He’d make up his mind about something and make you feel dumb until you agreed with him. “Look I’m not saying that what he did was right. I’m not saying I’m not furious with him. Me not speaking was because of some guys quirk.” You stood and made your way over to Katsuki and began pushing him away from the door. “Dabi knew the guy and said if my brain thought I was dying it would somehow reverse the quirks affects.”

He stopped walking and it was like pushing against a brick wall. “You could have fucking died y/n!”

“Do you think I DON’T KNOW THAT?” You pushed on him again, “Do you think I’ve just been sitting here all day twiddling my thumbs? Today has been fucking awful! I don’t need you to talk sense into me. I don’t need you to kick the shit out of Dabi. What I need if for you to just sit down with me, and just- just let me be. I don’t know!” You gave him one final hard shove which lead to him sitting back at the end of your bed.

His eyes were a mixture of sadness and hurt. “I’m not trying to make this harder on you, I promise. But he put your life at risk and that’s not just something I can just be okay with.” His hands reached up and cupped your cheeks and brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized was there. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this yet, but I would kind of prefer you to stay alive… you aren’t allowed to die before me. Especially at the hands of some ugly sociopath.”

You leaned into his touch, “Please, for me. Just let it go for now. Let this be between me and Dabi. Be mad all you want, believe me I’m pissed, but you don’t need to get involved. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

He pulled you towards him and moved one hand to cradle the back of your head and pulled you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Only because you said please. But I hope you know this means I’m coming to check on you more often now.” His fingers carded through your hair. “Actually… if you’re not comfortable here anymore… You could always come stay with me.”

“I thought that was too dangerous, what with heroes and villains alike apparently looking for me.”

He chuckled, “I’d love to see someone try. They’d have to go through me.”

“Yeah, but you can’t always be around… you have a job to do. An important one.”

He gave a sad sigh as his grip on you loosened enough for you to pull back and look at him, “Yeah… I do.” There were a few tense moments when your eyes connected, and you could see the way his eyes drifted to your lips as he licked his own. Ever so slightly he started leaning in closer to you.

Your breath hitched in your chest, as your brain went a mile a minute. Sure, you always had a feeling things might end up this way between you and Katsuki. There was a time when you went to bed every night fantasizing about the moment he would finally break down and admit he liked you. You had known him since you were children and there was always this feeling that if ever given the opportunity the two of you would end up together. But, for some reason it felt… off.

You leaned your forehead against his. “I don’t think right now is the best time for this.” You watched his eyes close as he tried to school his emotions. “It’s not that I don’t want to, because believe me I’ve thought about it. But right now, my life is in shambles. It’s not your job to fix me. That’s my job. And I need you to let me do it. Okay? I need you to let me do this on my own.”

He groaned but nodded as he pulled his head away from yours. “I don’t like it, but I get that I have to respect it.” His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your thigh. “I don’t want you to have to do this alone. I’ve always… Fuck.” His cheeks tinted the lightest shade of red. “I can’t stand to watch you struggle. It sucks knowing you’re out here stuck with him, dealing with so much shit that you should never have to deal with.” He hung his head low, “I just wish I could fight your demons for you. I wish I could lock you away and keep you safe from all the evil of this world.”

You pulled his chin up to make him look at you. “Katsuki you have always been there for me. There hasn’t been many problems in my life that I haven’t solved leaning on you for help.” You saw a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “But this isn’t something you can punch away. It isn’t something you can yell at until it stops hurting. I have to do this on my own.”

Tension was thick in the air. You knew there was so much he wanted to say. You could tell he was ready to fight you on this. But he surprised you by nodding and untangling himself from you. “I need to get going. I have a lot of work to do.” You could see the subtle sting of rejection in his eyes but he quickly covered it with his trademark smirk. “You say you don’t want my help but I’m going to anyway. I’ll help by locking up every single shithead that anything to do with your kidnapping.” He stood up and gave you one more, quick hug. “And that’s a fucking promise.”

You followed him as he left your room, intent on walking him to the door. You wanted to make sure he actually left instead of picking a fight with Dabi. But luck never had been on your side. You exited the main hallway and Dabi was sitting in his normal recliner. He looked up eyes cold as they landed on Katsuki, much softer when they found yours. You tried to give Katsuki a push in the direction of the door, but he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Oi! When I gave you the fucking list of things to do to help her with her period, I don’t remember drowning her being on it!”

Dabi’s eyes returned to Katsuki’s agitated one and for a while you thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Did you get her to eat something?”

“Don’t avoid the subject. You’re fucking lucky she begged me not to hurt you. Otherwise your ass would be dead.”

You something like surprise flash in Dabi’s expression. “Bold of you to assume that I am the lucky one here. It seems to me she was just trying to protect her little pet Pomeranian from getting hurt.” He grinned at the way Katsuki’s hands popped in anger. “But thank you for getting her to eat. She had me worried.”Bakugo lunged at him but you quickly stepped in the way and put a hand on his chest. You looked him in the eyes shaking your head and have him a shove towards the door.

Dabi could feel his stomach sink at the fact that the only words he had heard you say was “fuck you” He knew you had been in your room chatting away with man boobs and it stressed him out. Even now you refused to speak in his presence, and it killed him. He was the reason you could speak again and yet you refused to speak to him. That idiot Bakugo had nothing to do with it and yet gets to reap the benefit of Dabi’s sacrifice.

Dabi’s blood began to boil. He knew Bakugo would never in a hundred years have the balls to do what he did. He wouldn’t have the nerve to go through with it. Dabi did what he did for you, even if you refused to see it that way. Does he hate that he had to do it? Yes. Is he sorry, of course. But does he regret it… not really.

He watched as you pushed until Bakugo was successfully out of the house. As soon as the door was closed you turned and started to run back towards your room “OH NO YOU DON’T!”

He stood up and chased after you. “We are talking about this weather you want to or not. You can’t hide from me forever. You can’t mope around all day, not eating and expect me to just let that go. Law number seven we eat three full meals a day!” He got to your door just in time for you to slam it in his face. He had been so patient with you today. Not once had he forced himself into your room even the door was unlocked. He respected the fact you needed space. However, when he reached down and noticed that you had locked the door, he didn’t feel so bad about what he was about to do.

“Law number six! No locked doors!” His pressed his palm flat against the wooden door and burned straight through it. He burned a hole big enough for him to reach his hand through and unlock it from the inside.

He carefully avoided all of the broken glass on the ground from earlier. And stomped over to where you were trying to ignore him. You went through your dresser, picking out what you planned to wear to bed. You took a step towards the bathroom, but he stepped in your way.

“Y/n. Can we please talk about this?” You tried to step around him, but he just moved to block you again. “FINE! We don’t have to talk about it, but you will listen to what I have to say!”

You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and avoided making eye contact with him.

“I know what I did sucked. But I HAD to DO IT!” His voice was steadily getting louder. “You had to think you were dying. What did you want me to do? Hold your hand, tell you everything was going to be fine, and then pretend to drown you? It wouldn’t have worked!” He leaned over you and grabbed your chin forcing you took look at him. “I knew you’d be mad. I knew it might fuck up all the progress we’ve made. But I did it anyway! I did it for you!”

You slapped his hand away. “You DID IT FOR ME!? YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!”

There it was. Your voice. It hit him like a truck and it was enough to spur him on. “Yes for you! So you could talk again! So you could start to take back what those fuckers took from you! I decided you liking me wasn’t as important as you being able to talk again. Go ahead and hate me, but I need you to understand why I did it! What I was willing to sacrifice!”

Your eyes bore into his and it honestly almost sent shivers down his spine. “I understand just fine! You see me as this sad little broken girl. You thought I was so broken that you were willing to risk my life to fix me. Let that sink in Dabi… you gambled with MY life. What the hell were you sacrificing?”

“YOU!” His voice dripped with emotion. “I was sacrificing any chance I had with you so that one day I could watch you take back your life and get revenge on the people who hurt you.” He ran a hand through his white hair. “I would literally burn every single one of those monsters and piss on their ashes if I thought it’d help. But I know it wouldn’t! That’s a privilege that only belongs to you and I’d do anything to be able to watch you do it. Because I know you’re not broken! You’re a badass who doesn’t need anyone’s help. You are one strong bitch!”

There was pain in his eyes “I didn’t gamble with your life y/n, because I was so sure I wouldn’t let anything happen to you I was so sure nothing would go wrong.” He reached a hand out to touch your cheek, and surprisingly you let him. “Go ahead and activate your quirk. Feel what I feel. Feel what it was like to think I killed you. Feel what it was like to think that I am the monster everyone thinks I am…”

You activated your quirk and was hit so hard with anguish that you practically choked. He was grieving, even now, and somewhere buried under all his pain was something else entirely. But you weren’t ready to address that. “I hate what I did to you, but I don’t regret it, because it worked. It made you stronger. And in this fucked up world, only the strong make it out alive. So yes, Y/n… I did it for you.”

You felt you heart pounding in your chest. This was either the most fucked up or romantic thing you had ever heard, and you couldn’t figure out which one it was. Your hand came up to his that was still on your cheek. For a while you just stood there. Absorbing each other’s presence, then out of nowhere his lips cashed to yours.

Some animalistic instinct took over as you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. He leaned over cupping your ass in hands and picking you up until your legs wrapped around his waist.

His lips pulled away from yours to start kissing down your neck nipping at your ear before returning to your lips. You squealed when his hand lightly slapped at your ass.

He made his way to the bathroom and sat your ass on the counter, his hands sliding up your thighs as he pulled back to look at you. “Law number thirteen?”

Part of you wanted to say no. You were still furious with him, but all your brain could think about was the orgasm you had just from riding his thigh. Your body was aching to be touched and from the look he was giving you, he was aching to touch you.

You slid your hand under his shirt and so lightly he almost didn’t hear it you muttered, “please.”

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┌─ “ ! „ WINTER ROSES

tw. dubcon/noncon, babytrapping, manipulation, gaslighting, captivity, yandere oikawa, dacryphilia, a lot of praise, Stockholm syndrome, biting, one sided obsession/love, spit, kinda corruption-y wordcount. 10k

a/n. each other scene is the present timeline - just in case mWUAH ♡ commissioned by an amazing amazing follower ♡ it was just such a pleasure to write this piece even though it really pushed my two braincells! thank you so so much for commissioning me!! i really hope you enjoy <33

oikawa tooru x fem!reader

It’s surprisingly easy to catch yourself in a lie; Oikawa discovers this at the wrong time, the wrong place.

It’s plenty easy to have good intentions in words- and words only, but actions always speak louder. And sadly, his actions are not those of an ever forgiving, gracious person. He’s never claimed to be perfect, far from it. No, he’s many things, but never perfect— and that’s how he likes it. Because Oikawa Tooru might not be perfect, but he’s a bit of everything else in between. He’s intelligent, he knows this much. Could read quicker than Iwaizumi could, and his spatial awareness is unparallelled by almost anyone in his circle.

He’s cunning, never sly— an easy combination that keeps him from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He’s been told many a time he’s far from bad on the eyes, and well— though he’s not opposed to using it to his advantage here and there, he’s no show-off by nature. He’s perfectly imperfect, the shining jewel of a bustling city where standing out is about your greatest luck in life. After all, all his imperfection is what keeps the human form entertaining.

But lies like this- you’re happy, you’re in love, you would do anything for him; they’re easy to dispute when you are dropping your head off the side of the bed and your tears are dripping onto the floor. His ‘don’t make me see you cry’ order is taken a bit too literal for his liking, but he guesses it’s a stubborn, resilient defiance of yours. It’s surprisingly easy to catch yourself in a lie. You still get this way when you are reminded of home, of your brother and your parents and everything you were forced to leave behind for him. All sniveling and making him feel, quite honestly, really shitty.

And he’s not delusional, he knows it was forced. Forcefully taken. He’s just good at making you doubt it. Doubt it and give into him when he offers you a few tissues and helps you back up onto the covers, opening his arms for you. As hard as he’s tried to make it into a tightly woven truth, there’s nothing about the way you sink into his arms and bury your face into the soft crook of his neck that is authentic. He’s a million lies in with no intention of stopping, and that’s fine. He’ll be fine with the mountain of lies at the end of the day.

If it means running his hands along the back of your head and laying sweet kisses on the top of your crown that you so gladly nuzzle into. Whatever you need to do for love, right? However much you need to lie?

He clears his voice in the darkness of the room, shivering a little at the jangle of the chain around your ankle. He softly nudges up your face to face him, studies the pretty planes of your face and your puffy eyes, the way your bottom lip is more swollen and flushed full of blood. You’re so beautiful to him. More beautiful than he could ever ask for, more beautiful than he deserves. He brushes a stray strand away from your face before smiling into the night, wrapping his strong arms around your body. “You’re so beautiful, angel.”

You don’t say much in return, shyly nuzzling his jaw as you hide away in embarrassment, and the tenderness gives him shivers. “Another nightmare?”

“S’nothing,” you mumble back, kissing along the marks he demanded you lay on him the night before, a promise of your love or his. “I love you, Tooru.” You’re already laying back down between his legs, allowing him to prop himself up against the headboard as you slowly sink back into sleep. The ‘I love you more’ on his tongue remains unspoken, not willing to wake you up again in fear of more memories crawling back up to the surface. He sees the way you look over your shoulder to watch him sometimes, eyes growing a bit too wide with revelations.

Wild, like a prey animal caught in a trap. An appropriate visual that doesn’t clear his head from the countless thoughts that swim in circles and keep him from pushing any further. You might break if he tries, and he loves you way too much to break you. This is a first to him too, you know. Uncharted territory. It’s a dance he’s unpracticed in, a little clumsy as he appraises you with your mouth half open on his chest. Isn’t it enough for him to be trying? Despite all his losses and his flaws.

He taps his foot impatiently against the metal chain crossing half of the bed with a sigh, before wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. Iwaizumi never warned him it would be this hard, but then again, Oikawa’s sure his friend isn’t exactly familiar with the comings and goings of this situation either. He can only assure himself that one day you’ll wake up and have forgotten all about his imperfections. One day you’ll forgive him for his lovestruck problems and his selfishness.

+

Tooru Oikawa isn’t a bad person, not in his eyes, and not in the eyes of the people who know him. He enjoys his fair share of issues, but at the end of the day— when it comes down to the wire— the brunet is as clever as he is tall and as charming as he can be sweet. He knows it.

Until he catches himself judging yet another fine young lady a bit too harshly in his head, lowering his head in the upteenth courtesy for the night and feeling absolutely nothing. The night is going to waste, and everyone is getting frustrated. He is, his father is, and above all; his mother is. She no longer holds her glass with a raised pinky and a coy smile, instead clamping her fist around the stem of the crystal with all the class and grace of a lumbering woodworker. He’s scared she might hit him over the head with it before the night is over— but alas, he’s far too clever to get fooled by his own lie.

Because though he knows that imperfection is the spice of everything sweet, one can’t help but scrutinize when scrutiny is all you have to go on. He smiles wide and warm when letting the pretty blonde’s hand go to escape the dance, undoing the cotton tie looped around the base of his neck before it chokes him. “Kill me already.” He might be a class act in pretending to enjoy life more than most, but God— are these people dull. All of them raised with golden spoons and delicate praises. Nothing behind the eyes other than a distinct knowledge of the rest of their lives written in glossy ink.

And on paper he is no different. Only son of a familial empire, the heir of a generation. His older sister has long gone and married off to a quiet, kind man and is busy securing the family legacy; so it’s no wonder his mother is getting flushed in the cheeks when no more of the girls invited remain for a first dance. He’s gone through them all, and as always, taken notice of none. It’s not that they’re not pretty, or kind, or -in some cases- have the shape of every girl he’s ever so much as dreamed about.

He just… feels indifferent about spending his life with any of them. And indifference is harder to distinguish between than adoration or disgust. Which just leaves him annoyed at the effort.

It wasn’t this way when his older sibling was of courting age. She had always wanted to get married, even from childhood, the effect of a well meaning mom making her expectations clear. She had accepted her fate with elegance and poise expected of an heir to a great inheritance, and she’d done it all under the guise of love. Tooru on the other hand— he’s many things indeed, and one of them is also indecisive at heart. He wants to think anyone would have a difficult time in choosing the rest of their damn lives. Not that his parents seem to take this into consideration much. Bonds are waiting to be laid and all that.

He stops at the table adjacent to the wall for a clear glass of water to soothe the headache threatening to bloom at his temples, suit too restricting and tight for the night. He’s sick of this theatrical shit. Of pretending to smile genuinely when a young lady flutters her eyelashes in his direction, hoping they’re the one to sweep him off his feet. It’s not exactly custom, but Oikawa can’t help but think that it’ll happen when it happens— and that’s exactly where the problem lies.

A soft huff of acknowledgement is accompanied by the creaky sigh of the table when another body comes to lean against it, and Oikawa doesn’t need to look up from his clasped hands to know that Iwaizumi was basically waiting for an opportunity to have a word. If not the ladies grabbing at his ankles and pulling him around, it’s one of his friends he has to deal with. The thought passes with a quick smirk, but it’s unneeded, and unearned. Of all the people in this room, the one he knows isn’t here to bother him, is Iwa.

He looks up into the crowd first, making eye contact with his mother from across the dim room to watch her sour a little further. People mingle and dance, sure, but there’s no denying. The tension is higher than ever, and only because he’s running out the clock yet again. There will be words after this, that much is clear. He sighs, takes a sip of his cool drink, and waits for his best friend to come with the unasked, sage advice. Unasked, but not unneeded.

“What’re you waiting for?” Iwa asks, dry and to anyone else’s ear, it might come across uncaring. But Tooru knows better.

“Dunno.” He sways the glass in his hand until there’s rings in the water that travel to the edges. “I’m just not feeling it tonight, I think.”

There’s an unconvinced noise, then a silence. “I’m just saying you’d save yourself and everyone in this room a lot of trouble and unearned broken hearts if you went and made a decision. Don’t lead them on, don’t…” Iwa grunts, clearly getting flustered at having to be the voice of reason, but he still pushes through. “Think of anyone other than yourself for once. If you don’t wanna pick, then make that clear to your old woman and get it done with. We’re all tired of this too, you know.”

Iwa doesn’t have to stay. He could walk off like this and leave the words said and sinking, serving a real ‘told ya’ moment in the future. But he doesn’t, and so Oikawa swallows his instinct to snap something back for the sake of it. As per usual… Iwaizumi knows what he’s talking about.

“I’m not trying to, if that’s what you think.”

“You’re not trying to stop her either.” And… correct again. The self-righteous feeling of annoyance that sits under his ribs doesn’t fade as he thinks that over, but it does waver a bit. Definitely when Iwa turns to him, arms crossed tightly over his chest and he mumbles a harsh but needed “get it together”. Then he lands his hand hard onto Oikawa’s shoulder, and the dramatics are out before the brunet can stop them.

“Ow, Iwa-chan.”

He puts the drink down though, slides it over the lacquered table for a few more seconds of break from all the bustle, and hums. “You’re right. Hold down the fort without me for a second.” Iwa’s eyebrows shoot up at the sudden exclamation, but Tooru’s already walking towards the heavy doors for some much needed fresh air.

“Where are you going?!” Iwa hisses after him, but he’s not quite close enough to stop his best friend from making it to the door and slipping out through it with a satisfied grin on his cheeks. Now he’ll definitely have words with the old ones at home. And it’s worth it. The cool, freshness of the air clears out the drowsy feeling of too much wine and dull conversation almost instantly, letting him make it halfway past the courtyard before the door is pulled open after him and what he knows to be Iwa to slip out after. “Shitty-kawa!” the man calls after him, and Tooru gives him a smiley salute before hopping over the stone wall into the alley below.

He lands with a soft ‘uph’, undoes the buttons of his pants and arms, before stretching out to the night sky and beginning to walk. If he knows anything about Iwa, and he knows almost a sad amount too much, it’s that the guy won’t chase. He could, but he doesn’t— a quite ample metaphor for the guy’s stale love life. It makes him smile, but he doesn’t linger on the thought for long. If he’s going to disgrace his parents right in front of their noses with his actions, he might as well enjoy the night out.

The streets here are still clean, quiet save for the stray cat passing through. He doesn’t allow himself to remain within these childhood streets though, or else he might go crawling back with his tail tucked between his legs. Even the one and only Oikawa Tooru is a slave to habit. So he walks, past the cramped alleyways and familiar houses under the same sky he always has. Walks until the birds scare at his presence and he gets to an area he no longer recognizes at the outskirts of the sprawling city. There’s no cleanly spaced lanterns on the walls, no polished stone and aquamarine banners hung above the houses anymore to celebrate name days or inheritances.

There is a growing sound though, people laughing and cheering somewhere in the distance. He can hear it, practically taste the excitement in the air. It’s in that second he also realizes that he’s never come here before for longer than a few brief appearances; and for good reason. But the curiosity is too pressing, taking over his feet before he can really think it over.

Two children push him to the side as he walks down the torch lit alley as they laugh, and he follows the giggles even into the dark. Now this— Iwa would call a bad idea. It probably is, and if anyone were to recognize him this far out of his family’s territory, it could spell some serious issues back home. But as he presses a hand to the cold, gritty plaster of the house and ascends a few stairs, he’s much too far into the den to turn back now. He doesn’t bother covering his face as he comes into the round marketplace, avoiding the people walking past him left and right to find a spot out of the direct eye. 

It doesn’t escape him that the flag hanging limply from the central post isn’t his own. It’s exciting enough being out without anyone at his side for the first time in… what must be a couple years, but the possibility of getting to see his sworn family enemy walking about is even greater a jitter. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and lingers at the edge of the alley, tall enough to look over most people towards the little group that are allowed a bit more space. It’s not hard to spot them, by the fancier dress than just a simple shirt and moccasins. 

But what really gives it away is the purple stones that glint so bright under the flicker of the candle lit square that the shine of them reflects on the walls, stitched onto clothes and woven into metal necklaces, hairpins, sword handles. One taller guy with silver-ish, tan hair, and a shorter girl hiding behind him. You. The older pair of people next to you mingle with others, wide smiles as they engage in frivolous conversation— but you; you’re nosing into the bicep of the man you’re standing next to, long lashes framing bright eyes where they flit around the square and only linger on people’s faces very briefly, before glancing up at the sky instead. You’re a vision, top to bottom dressed up like a blooming flower, the prettiest star in the night sky.

It’s not the beauty that stays with him though. It’s the pouty lip, the frown that makes it’s way onto your face when you’re dragged around and have to cling to the man’s arm with a tightness he can only describe as inseparable by human hands. You’re high society, there’s no doubt of it, with that hair and those clothes and even the easy steps on pointed heels. But you’re childishly brewing up a storm, and that’s what really takes him aback. You’re nothing like what he’s learned a high society young lady to be, even when you shake off the young man’s hand with a pout and playfully slap it away, only for it to quickly be replaced again.

He’s too far away to hear the conversation, too caught up to really pay attention anyway — so it almost passes him by when you come to a halt again for more conversation, repeat the same dance and motion until your eyes meet his. Oikawa freezes. He wasn’t planning on moving, but he finds he can’t so much as breathe while your eyes are on his, though he can feel his eyebrows raising at being caught. And you blink a few times, before tilting your head in confusion. You’re even prettier head on. Pretty brows and a pretty nose and the curve of your lips like delicate flower petals that take over his heart in an instant.

You look away. He finds himself shuffling to the side a little more as you get dragged back into the masses, if only to catch your eyes again; face your curious judgment again. Maybe this is how those poor girls at his own ball feel. Maybe he sees the appeal. “Sorry, s’cuse me.” Like a spark that catches fire to his flammable insides, he follows behind until he bumps up against an older man who refuses to get out of his way quick enough, and you’re gone. Whisked into the whir of all the people that laugh and cheers, as he is left a burnt pile of rubble.

It’s not a challenge. It’s not. And still he’s already convinced that something about you— he has to have it. He moves back to the alleyway from which he came, down the stairs. His jacket is pulled a bit tighter around himself as he trails back down the streets; excitement of a night out long forgotten. Instead your curious gaze stays with him like you’re just out of reach, and the tingles it sends down his spine are almost too good to be true.

+

Your wavering comfort is slipping quickly as you watch him pace around the room, eyes flicking over at you every so often. Your one leg feels a lot heavier than the other as you wait for him to settle down, and hopefully— let you be. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asks, brows pulled tight and handsome face more antagonizing than usual. His arms are crossed over his chest as he comes to a halt a few feet away from you, to watch you where you’re propped up against the bed. You hate it when he gets mad. When he gets mad, he gets mean; and when he gets mean, the waterworks and the endless self-doubt are never far off.

“Of course I do—”

“Then why would you ask me that?” He bites his bottom lip hard, so hard you’re worried he might split it right open if it continues. “Why- Your brother is fine- Your family is fine. I’m the one you should be thinking about,” he sends you a look of total defeat, gritting his teeth. “Don’t do this to us, angel.” Tooru is good when he’s kind. When he wants to be, he’s the most loving person you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting and then some. With all the praise in the world he gives himself to you, a gift offered with open palms that you can only be grateful for. You believe it’s all he could ever give you.

When he’s doing well, he’s your favorite person in the world— as much as you would’ve hated to admit it a few weeks ago. Or months. It’s hard to remember how long it’s really been when you can only look out the window to see the sun crawl through the sky, but never reach.

But when he isn’t… your body is covered in cold goosebumps that have your limbs sore and wooden. You mirror his habit of biting down too hard, and slump into yourself. “I’m sorry, Tooru.” There’s a deep despair where your stomach would normally sit, that seems to needlessly press down on yourself. Your body is tired and cold, and this isn’t helping your anxiety. Before you can really process it, your breathing is short and choppy and there’s tears glazing your eyes as you stare at the expensive floors. “I- I just…” you mumble, shaking a little as you lift a hand to brush under your nose.

Tooru is good to you. Tooru is so good to you when you let him.

“I just wanted to know if Eita was… doing okay.” Your squeezed voice manages to spit the words out, though you don’t really want to. But you know better than to make him wait for an explanation, so when the tears start to wobble along your waterline and blur your vision, you just close your eyes and swallow it down. “I wasn’t trying to be ungrateful.”

You hear the creak of the lacquered planks underneath his feet before his fingers come to your cheek, smoothing along the soft skin to let out a deep sigh. “I know you weren’t, sweet girl. You’re my little angel, hm?” However unfair it feels to lean into his touch, you feel all warm when he steps close enough to let you bury yourself back into his chest, protected from the world. Protected from him— by his own doing. The irony doesn’t escape you; but the chain around your ankle is so heavy. It’s much easier to just melt into his touch.

Tooru’s gentle when he motions to pick you up into his arms, large body not faltering to lift you up against him like the floor might swallow you up with too much touch. Instead you’re forced to hang onto him, cling to his body for support— as you always end up doing. “You miss him?” His lips are soft against your collarbone where he places a few kisses, then makes you pull away enough to kiss your lips. You hum, at least you think you do, before he kisses you harder to shut you up. He’s not really listening anyway; or if he is, it wouldn’t change anything.

You know this just as well as Tooru makes you cling tightly onto his body to crawl onto the mattress and set you down under him, hands roaming along your ass, your thighs, up your sides to slip under your flowy dress. He chuckles when you squeak at his chilly fingers on your skin, but doesn’t apologize. He won’t. You’re used to it by now— and even if he did it wouldn’t make anything easier.

+

You’re not comfortable. And you have no problem showing it as you pace around the entrance and knock at the door again, hissing little curses under your breath. Until the door is pulled open, and a very unimpressed Eita stares you down with narrowed eyes. You don’t wait for your big brother’s permission to step around him into the room as you tie your hair up away from your neck, before plopping down into his extremely luxurious bed. “Oh, come inside, please,” Eita grimaces sarcastically at the place where you stood, waving his hand about with an unenthused motion, closing the door again.

“Don’t leave me alone with these people, niisan,” is the first thing out of your mouth, before he even has a chance to ask. “Don’t leave me alone with these people, please. I don’t want to do it.” You’re knowingly childish and dramatic and you roll onto your back, because it works a little too well on him. You stare at him with the best teary puppy eyes you have -not that they’re really an act- and suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “And besides, mom and dad are giving me no choice in the matter, and you know how I feel about crowded parties.”

Your older brother sighs as he regards you, eyebrows already tilting up in a sort of angled motion that shows his concern clearly on his face, before gripping one of the bed posts and leaning his shoulder into it. “It’s your name day.” The soft draw of his voice and his little smile go back to quiet too fast, and you can’t help but mirror the gesture.

“Don’t wanna have a ball. Just wanna stay in here with you.” You’re splayed out onto his covers when he sits down and hums, brushes a gentle hand along your head that falls still after a few pets. He can’t say anything about it, even if he did have a good solution— and by the expression, you’re guessing he doesn’t. After a few more seconds of extended silence, you shuffle a bit closer to put your head on his thigh as his hand follows. “If I hide myself under your bed before tonight, you can just pretend like you never even saw me- and I’ll be really quiet. The guards won’t check here. Please, niichan?”

Eita chuckles when you pull his soft shirt, amusement at your actions never far off, but eventually the smile wears off for a tighter lipped expression. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay tonight. We have a patrol around the bridge; and dad isn’t going to let me off the hook for just any old reason.” He looks worried, something that upsets you more than you’d like it to. But his doubts always soon turn into your doubts too, and Eita isn’t one to make a big deal out of nothing.

“Problems?” He nods yes.

“Oikawa-san related problems?” He doesn’t nod for that one, but you can read him well enough to know. “Don’t go, niichan, please don’t go. I heard they stabbed one of our guards last time for no reason, who knows what they’ll do if any of them notice you’re there too. What if you get hurt- o-or worse?”

“Relax, okay? Calm. Dad’s not putting me in charge of being on the front lines. I’m there for any possible amiable talks if one of the Oikawa’s does show. The father or the son, either works.” He lets out a deep sigh, rolls his eyes at the mere thought. Eita’s good at being a voice for your family, charming and kind, but self-aware enough not to get trampled all over by other smooth talkers. He’s good at it, even if he doesn’t like it. His hand moves back over your head from your forehead to your crown. “Which means you’ll be in this alone, ‘m sorry.”

Ugh.

Sorry doesn’t help you.

You get painfully restless when you have to deal with it alone. Not nearly as prickly as you like to posture yourself, because at the end of the night, it’s really all you have. Without Eita here— you’re losing your edge quick. 

You want another drink. The allied families have gathered for your name day ball, their sons and daughters and guards sprawling all over the place as you try to make it across the room without being halted. Which you manage, walking with downcast eyes as the chill of the room travels up your spine. You only steal a flute of something strong to nurse on, stomach too tight for anything more, before making your way back towards the dancefloor. Only, you barely make it halfway before you’re tapped on the shoulder passing the back room, and a sigh makes way out of your body before you can think. A strong hand pulls at the edge of your sleeve, stopping you with a soft ‘psst’. You turn to face the sound, only to stumble back a step at the tall man leaning into your space.

“Hello again,” his grin grows wide and wolfish when you don’t respond, before he motions behind him. Into the space hidden from direct view by the mosaic accent wall, not dark enough to cause any worry. “Come out here with me for a second,” he asks, his pretty voice lilting up like a song.

You can’t place his face, but he feels so familiar.

+

You don’t know why you’re remembering this now. Not when Tooru is over you, pushing your knees up to your chest to let his tongue peek out between his teeth and a loud groan bounces around the room. He’s breathing heavily, lazy circles of his thumbs into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your silky nightgown is shoved up on your belly and digs into your shoulders a little, but he soon decides that’s not enough either. One large hand coming onto your belly to pet and paw at the soft, vulnerable skin and moving your clothing aside further. “Tooru,” you mewl, and he hums.

“So fucking pretty. So pretty for me, that’s a good girl.” His strong, lined thighs flex as he pushes up against you, letting your nails run along to skin with a soft sigh. You love hearing him. It’s funny in a way, because how loud and vocal he was about enjoying you was the thing you hated most just a little while ago. Even when he smacked and groaned into your cunt, or bit marks down your neck, or forced his fingers into you with a gleeful chuckle. Now it gives you shivers down your spine, and you’re fighting to even pull them out of him more. Praises, and the way he says your name like a prayer. “My angel, all mine.”

His body is too wide to comfortably fit, so he urges your legs up either side of his shoulders; his pretty, flushed cock twitching up against his belly and the soft trail of hair running down. “Gonna fill you back up, ‘kay? Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re whining without help, pussy drooling and keeping everything a wet, sticky mess. How he likes you most, is like this. Giving fully into his depraved way of hauling you around like a doll. His fingertips are a little coarse when rubbing around the top of your slit, just teasing your entrance enough to have you choked up. “Tooru~ give it to me please. Want to feel your hands on my tits and your cock filling me up. ‘M so cold without you. Please— p-please.” He shudders above you as you whine his name so sweetly, so needy.

“Yeah?” He knows it, you can tell by the way his mouth corners quirk up and his free hand wraps around his cock to give himself a few lazy strokes, before lining up with you. It didn’t used to be true, but everything before Tooru seems so long ago now. So long ago it barely feels real anymore. The rubbing of your clit doesn’t let up, and the tingles spread all through your body. Then he leans into you more, using the pushback of your legs as all the encouragement he needs to slide the head into your tight, little cunt— force your wiggling lower half still as he slips the head in with one smooth motion. “Ahgh, fuck. That’s a good girl. So good.”

You’re shaking, one orgasm in from before and now he’s pushing in, it’s an almost unbearable fit. “Uhn- Tooru, T-tooru, you’re so…” Your mouth drops open as he works more of his thick, heavy cock into you, slick squelching of your body accepting him too loud in the silence. You shiver and pant as he places a hand next to your head to hold himself up over you to kiss you. His muscles flex as he pulls you down onto him more, stretching you out inch by inch until you’re only half aware of the reality around you.

“This is what you wanted,” he sighs, filling you up all the way for an almost painfully tight fit, bottomed out with a soft moan. His hand comes to capture your face, forcing another kiss on your lips. “You asked for this, y’know that?” You can’t really listen well as he’s talking and taking you all the same, pulling his hips back to study your face like you’re really a gift from God— something for him to keep and cherish. His eyes are a little unfocussed as they take in every detail of your expression, fucking back into you.

“Holy— f-fuck, ah-huh, Tooru. Tooru!”

“You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to steal you away.” He’s still talking, leaning in as his rhythm slowly is building and the lewd slapping of skin to skin becomes undeniable. All you know is that one second he’s kissing you, the next he’s spewing filt into your ear, brushing the shell with his plush lips. “You wanted to be fucked full of my cum and bred like a little wife. Say it.” His breath along your sensitive throat. Everything is sensitive as he fucking into you deep and hard, bumping your cervix with the angle.

Your legs tighten around his shoulders as you let him force his cock in and out of your messy hole, slick pooling under your body onto the mattress. “Say it for me. Say ‘I wanted to be Oikawa Tooru’s little wife’. C’mon.” He stops thrusting for a few seconds to brush his thumb along the seam of your lips, forcing your mouth open and your tongue jutting out. On instinct, you moan when he pushes the rough pad of his thumb onto it, spit collecting on the pink muscle. “Oh, you’re such a dream, baby. Drive me fucking wild.”

He does look wild leaning down to kiss you even with his thumb still holding your mouth open, making the motion exceedingly messy. His tongue taking over yours into a sloppy, open mouth kiss with his obnoxious sucking noises driving you totally into a daze. He kisses and licks until you’re out of breath and push at his shoulder softly, before pulling away to watch you gasp as he forces his cock back right against your deepest point. To drive the point home he places his back to cup your stomach and pushes a little to make the fit even tighter, if possible. “Tell me what I wanna hear. Don’t make me get upset.”

“W-wanna—” you interrupt yourself with a long while, thighs shaking around his wide stature with how relentlessly he’s fucking into you now. The loud pap, pap, pap makes you distracted, so you squeeze your eyes closed. “Wanted t’ be Oikawa Tooru’s little wife—uhh.” He grunts, fucks into your slick walls hard enough to bounce you up on the bed. You grab your tits to pinch the pebbled buds between your fingers as he kisses you again, then moaning too.

“Yeah?”

“Yea~” you quickly agree, teary eyes cracking open to watch his perfect lips quirk into a knowing smile.

“Mean it?” You nod again, and he grabs your hips with two hands to piston himself out of your sloppy pussy, making even more wetness run down each time he pulls back. His neck and chest is flushed from the effort, forehead a little glossy. But he still keeps going without break, heavy balls slapping against you as he pounds into your cunt. “Say you’re going to be mine forever.”

“Forever.” You’re crying, and Tooru doesn’t stop. In fact, his grin grows a bit wider as he watches you struggle to place all the emotions you’re feeling right now. His hand is impatient as it brushes over the soft roundness of your growing belly, knowing it to be true. You can’t go anywhere even if you tried. Not with the little pouch under his hand growing a little more each day.

The deeply mangled mix between affection and disgust rears it’s head loud and ugly as he pulls out of you for a bit to watch your hole clench around nothing, forcing so much wetness out of you. You’re glistening by no effort of his own, and he beams in glee. When he leans back to your face you can only stare at the way his pupils are wide enough to take up almost the entire ring of chestnut brown, and he tells you to stick out your tongue.

You do, to let Tooru stick out his own and lick up the length of your sensitive tongue, before sucking on the tip of it until your chin and lips are covered in spit. Then he makes you hold open your mouth for him to spit onto, warm and degrading right onto the middle of your squirming, little tongue. “Swallow it.” You shake your head once, tears rolling down your cheeks as you sniffle, holding out your tongue for his display. But he doesn’t take it, and lines himself back up with your cunt for another ruthless pace, deeper and slower. “You belong to me. Don’t fucking drop any of it.” With a sharp thrust right into your sensitive cunt he pushes your mouth closed and places his hand over your mouth until you do as you’re told.

His spit goes down with your cry of his name, letting him rub your clit until you’re spasming around his heavy girth. Your body can’t take any more. He knows it, feels the way you’re clenching around him to circle the over-stimulated nub and fucks you through a brain-numbing high. Your vision blurs into explosions of black and white as you cum so hard your toes curl and your back lifts off the plush mattress, pulling at the soft, wispy hairs at the base of his skull. And Tooru doesn’t stop until you’re trembling from the touch, until he’s shooting his hot, white load into your pussy.

You drop back exhausted, trembling for Tooru to let you off gently. He doesn’t though, fingers sliding between your legs to force his cum back into your hole with a love-struck expression.

+

“Iwaizumi saaan~” Oikawa whines long and loud, throwing around the food on his plate with all the theatrics of a toddler. It gets on Iwa’s nerves quickly, the dark haired man slamming his fist down hard enough to shock him into silence for a few seconds. Only a few though, before he clicks his tongue. “If I knew you were going to be such a bad sport about it, I wouldn’t have told you.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” his friend glares, tenseness in his brows making him look a couple years older than he is. “You’re still not forgiven for your stunt the other night, and now you tell me — this? Of all the mind-numbingly stupid things you could say…”

“What if it’s real love, Iwa-chan?”

“It’s not.”

You don’t know that. Oikawa doesn’t say it out loud, launching one of the green beans into the grass by his feet. The sun is hot and high in the sky, which means he has about 6 hours to convince Iwa to go with him, or at least to figure out a way to get around his best friend stopping him. He really stabbed himself in the foot by telling.

The thought of your eyes meeting his flashes through his mind, and he picks up the napkin from his lap to place it on the table as he stands. He’s already made up his mind, whether or not Iwa comes.

“The Semi family isn’t to be messed with, Shitty-kawa. If your parents knew- Hell, if anyone else knew- they’d sit you on permanent house arrest. You can’t go back there again.” His friend messes with the tie of his sword that secures it to his waist, and rolls his eyes. “Not for some long lashes and a tight-”

“Iwa,” his voice is low and warning, teeth clenched, “watch your mouth.” The anger that fills him at the insult to even your mere existence is irrational, considering he felt this same way days ago, but— all of that is in the past, isn’t it? Family feuds are silly when it comes to new generations. You made him realize that, in the few days it’s been since he’s had to miss you. Truth is, he can’t get you out of his head. The feeling has taken over him, and he’s not interested in putting a downer on it. Not when it feels so goddamn good.

“I have a plan,” he admits after a second, glancing aside to the other man with a wide grin. “We’d be in and out, that’s all. A quick, friendly visit, if you will.”

+

You know you shouldn’t have asked him. Every time in the past year when Tooru would manage to sneak into your gardens, leaving your own house a few guards weaker all the while, you’re still pretty sure that was mostly the stern guard’s doing. You never asked to confirm, but the way he hovers around the two of you whenever your husband allows you an afternoon in the courtyard or strolling down the street says enough. Iwaizumi isn’t on your side in this, and the roughened knuckles or splatters of blood on his arms are enough to have you keeping quiet on most things.

Unlike the brunet who’s demanding at best, Iwaizumi just seems uninterested. Even when Tooru parades you down the halls of his palace-like home once in a blue moon, there’s no doubt that the quiet footsteps following not too far behind are his. But— you didn’t have any other choice, and as days turn into weeks of not a word spoken about your family; you break the mock peace a little. Just enough to see the light—

Just enough to let Tooru in even deeper, putting his roots firmly into you. It doesn’t surprise you anymore when he takes the entire morning bathing with you, kissing your stomach each chance he gets. The fingers he trails down your spine, the thumb he brushes over your ring. You’re sure that if he could, he’d have made your ring a few sizes too small, so that you could never take it off again. You’re sure he’d make you regret it if you did. But when all of the routine, practiced gestures of love are done; the feeling doesn’t linger.

There’s no more surprise at just how cruel he can be with his ideas— you thought, you said that to him too, one of those nights shattering under painful insecurity and solitude. If only you never asked Iwaizumi about the truth, the traitor wouldn’t have told Oikawa about it. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now, skin a few shades lighter than normal and tearing up as he clamps your arm under his like a real couple. You wouldn’t be forced to stare straight into your brother’s disbelieving eyes as he takes you in with pure betrayal under the guise of “peace talks”.

“I’m sure our families will be able to find common ground.” Tooru’s smiling. You haven’t tore your eyes from Eita’s restless stature from the second you spotted him in this mess; but you know he is. That perfectly composed smile that’d be able to make houses crumple under the pressure. The same picture perfect way of saying every right word that made you fall into his hands. And there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say. You can only stare in shame at your brother’s defeated expression when he makes a face at the ring on your finger.

Tooru’s gloating feels normal now. The warmth of his body on yours is comforting. It makes you sick. “After all, for our future generations,” his voice is a soft, amused lilt when you shiver slightly under the meanly timed rubbing of your belly, “for our children… holding grudges won’t help, will it?”

“R-Right…” Eita blanks when looking between the two of you for a few times. “So you—”

“We did have to rush our wedding a little, so you have my apologies,” your husband stares straight into the other’s eyes, eyes glittering with his words. “We sent letters, but they might have gotten to you late, I presume.”

“No letters. W-We didn’t get any letters. Or any word as to where you’d gone,” your brother angles that last comment at you, and it takes everything in your power not to reach out and grab his hand; beg you to take you back into the family. For his help.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tooru cuts off your thoughts by petting down your back, soft enough to set your skin on end. “We both really wanted you there.” A little while ago, you would’ve believed his expression genuine. But every part of it is a cruel reminder that if you hadn’t been so damn naïve, maybe things would be different. Maybe you wouldn’t be forced to clamp your fingers a little harder around his just to soothe him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to fight yourself to smile, as your heart is being ripped out by his greedy hands. If you get through this, if you can just make it back home—

The image that flashes through your mind first is your shared bed with Tooru, the heat of his body warming your skin. Your bottom lip wobbles. As you have to face Eita again, his brows angle into a frown, but his eyes are glossy. You didn’t ever get to see your brother cry that much, you suppose. Tooru pulls you closer into him when he notices your drop in mood, softening up just a little. Eita nods, lost for words, his eyes only just settling on yours before he’s turning away. You didn’t get to explain, and you… you probably won’t. It’s been months. There’s nothing more to say that hasn’t been made clear right here.

And Tooru squeezes your hand, before nudging your eyes back to his, laying a sweet kiss on your lips. “You’re the one who wanted us to get along, right? You’re the one who wanted to see how your brother was doing…” He raises an eyebrow, cupping your cheeks to pet the lines of tears away. “Don’t cry, my love. You did so well. Always do so well for me, angel.” Then he kisses you again, a proper one now— and you let him pull you to his body like you’re two lovesick fools. These days… that might not be so far off anymore.

+

It’s not like you to talk to strangers.

But your curiosity is a bit too much to contain. And you know you’ve seen this man before, you just can’t— place where from. Your hands are laced politely behind your back as you stroll side to side for a few steps, the outer porch at peace this late at night. “Tooru?” you try the name out in your mouth as your feet plant steps from the door, knowing full well you shouldn’t run off.

“Yes,” the brunet lifts his shoulders, before stuffing one hand into his pocket. “Just Tooru, I— live not too far down the street from here. My parents are acquainted with yours.” That must be where you’ve seen him from… The way he speaks is easy, a confident smile on his lips as he rocks onto his heels. “That’s Iwa-chan,” he suddenly says then, pointing over his shoulder at the man poised against the far wall with his arms crossed over a wide chest— looking none too pleased.

Still, he throws up a hand in greeting, mumbling a tight “hi.” You return it, curtoseing a bit lower than your dress really allows you.

“So…” you glance back at the one to your side, eyes going a bit bigger as you have to look up at him. “Won’t you come in? It’s pretty cold out here. Besides, I’m not r-really supposed to… sneak off.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Tooru nods, sitting down onto the edge of the railing with a thoughtful pout, glancing between you and the door, “you’re probably a bit too beautiful to leave unattended. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes from you either.” He says it so easily that heat instantly flies to your ears and cheeks, mouth cracking open for a retort that doesn’t come. “But… it is a bit cruel to keep you locked away in here, isn’t it?”

He smiles wide enough for his eyes to crinkle into charming little moons, his handsome face getting a pink tinge to his nose and cheeks. “Ah, forget that, I’m sure you don’t mind it. I’m not here to start trouble… I didn’t bring you a proper present, angel,” he straightens up, stepping right up to your body, and goosebumps break out over your arms, “sorry.” His face is lit so nicely by the moon, making his delicate features look even nicer framed by dark hair and long lashes. He knows he’s charming- but damn him, is it working.

“Oh, it- it’s really no problem…” you flush with heat when he hums, pursing his pretty lips into a little frown.

“But can I at least offer the birthday girl a dance?”

He holds his large palm out for you, expression soft and weirdly genuine. You can’t help but wonder how this is the very first time you can recall hearing his voice, or his name— since you used to play with all the kids down the street since you were little. But it’s easy to brush off any doubts when you place your hand in his and he lays a soft kiss on it, squeezing a little. His other hand comes to rest on the small of your back, pulling you in close enough to have you swooning. You’re not normally so weak to a bit of flirtation, that’s common in high society anyway.

But something about the way he looks at you, so full of affection and care— it’s endearing. You let him lead you into a dance and hold onto his shoulder with a giggle. He sways you side to side to the soft melody of the piano somewhere in the building with a grin as he breathes a ‘left, right, left- left, right, left’ on beat, laughing with you as it sends you into a fit of giggles. “Stop laughing, I’m trying to be serious here,” he huffs, though it’s not long before he’s back to smiling down at you like you put the stars in the sky.

“Then don’t make me laugh,” you whisper back, voice lowering in volume as he leans into you so close you can make out his individual eyelashes. It’s too close for comfort, and you jerk back to place a respectable distance between your faces.

He notices, and gives a quick grimace. “Sorry. I just- I’ve never…” The reflection of the moon in his pretty brown eyes is enough to keep you hanging onto his every word, “I’ve just never seen anyone like you before.” It’s a landing hit, striking right into your poor, romantic heart. The softness with which he handles you, pats your dress down from the breeze before running a hand through his full head of hair is a little too practiced, a little too polished— but who cares.

“O— Tooru,” Iwa-chan suddenly calls from his spot away, you’d completely forgotten he was even there. His brows are wound tightly together as he places a hand on the handle of his sword. A… sword? You don’t get to linger on the thought before he steps nearer and your heart sinks to your feet. Did they come to— “We have to get going, more guards will come.”

If Tooru notices the way you’ve been spooked, he doesn’t mind it, too busy being love-struck to think through his actions. He clasps your hands between his and tilts your face back to focus on him, smiling wide. “I’ll come see you again, angel.”

“Tooru!”

“Yeah, yeah-” he hisses back, before leaning into his bow and placing a quick kiss on your cheek, as you freeze in place. “Later, pretty girl,” he nods, leaning in for another kiss to the back of your hand before you can pull it away. “I’ll come back for you!” he says it like he means it, winking as his friend slips back into the darkness of the stretched out flower beds. But despite everything he just said, you force yourself back towards the door. And tell yourself this will be the last of your chance encounters.

You’re wrong.

There’s no real buildup. Just the darkness surrounding you and the panicked wheezing of your breath against the cloth tied over your head. You hear steps, and voices, but nothing to prepare you for the soft, familiar sound of his sing-song voice only steps away from you. “Close the door behind you. Oh and Iwa-chan? I owe you.”

“I don’t wanna hear about this ever again,” the other voice sighs, before the click of a door sounds. And though you have the pressing, terrifying realization that you know those voices, it doesn’t really connect. Not as he squats beside you to take your hand in his like he’s done about a dozen times by this point, or not even when the claustrophobic rag is removed and you’re staring at those sweet, brown eyes. You can’t breathe, can’t so much as blink as Tooru brushes his fingers along your cheeks with that sickening kind of kindness. The kind that demands trust, even when people don’t deserve it.

You shiver under his touch, before he takes a deep breath and sits down fully in front of you. “There you are. No need to look so shaken, angel.” There’s a tense silence as you watch him watch you, every fiber of your being screaming in sync. After a few seconds, he cracks a smile after sighing. “A lot happened, so you’ll have to give me a moment to explain, love.”

Your mouth drops open without thought. “Explain? Wh-What are you— where are we? Why am I here? What are you doing, Tooru?!” Tears spring up behind your eyes, as you try to bite through them. “Were you the- the one who— took me?”

“I saved you,” he breathes out, low enough to make your skin itch. His eyes turn ice cold for only a second, before going back to the cheery nonchalance you’ve come to expect these last few weeks. “I saved you,” he repeats, “though I wouldn’t expect you to know that. That doesn’t matter though. You’re safe now, and look…” He motions around the room then, which you take as the first real opportunity to do.

And—

The banner hung right above the bed is painfully familiar, a pretty teal that shines under the sunlight. “We’ve made it home safe.”

“Oikawa…”

“I know, right?” His chuckle is awfully distracting to your already muffled thoughts, only amplified more when he scoots a bit closer so you’re knees to knees. “The chance of us two falling in love is… some kind of curse, I’m sure. You’re lucky I’m no quitter. It definitely wasn’t easy to get into your room from the balcony. But I always manage.” His pretty brown hair falls messily over his forehead as he reaches for your second hand, pushing your bound legs aside a bit.

Brown, floppy hair, long legs, deadly handsome smile on an equally pretty face— something in the back of your mind slowly clicks into place as you remember one summer years ago. How Eita had told you about the world, about the people wanting you gone; and their son, only a few years older than you. “You’re Oikawa Tooru.” Fear keeps you frozen in place when he laughs again, leaning in so he can rest his forehead against yours.

“Ding ding ding. Knew you’d get it.”

He leans in to place a kiss onto your mouth, when you finally gather yourself enough to break out of the trace to shove at him and scoot back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Have you lost your mind?”

He doesn’t even miss a beat, getting up from the floor to reach for you with a concerned look. “Ah, come now. Don’t be so dramatic, angel.” He stops you from trying to untie the rope by your feet by yanking your arms away with a tight grip, and tilts his head. “Stop it, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Your eyes go wide when he calmly forces your arms behind you without too much effort, so much bigger and stronger now that it’s being used against you. You squeak out a desperate ‘help me’, but even as you do, the shaking of your voice overtakes it. No one here is on your side. You know that.

“Your parents were — stop that— going to marry you off. I helped you!” He’s strong enough to even hold your arms in his one hand as you fight against him, as Tooru slots an arm under your thighs to throw you over his shoulder. Your tears taste salty as you cry at your useless struggle, breath knocked out of you when you’re tossed ungracefully on the bed. “I’m going to protect you, angel.” As he tries to get on too, you kick both your feet hard onto his right thigh and he tumbles. “God— ah, damn! That hurt, baby.”

You can’t get anywhere though, trying to dig your nails into the rope without results. It’s not giving in. “If you’re going to hurt me,” he mumbles while grabbing your face, looking more saddened than annoyed, “who knows what might happen to you? I don’t like getting violent, angel.” He takes a short pause to brush some hair out of your eyes, before placing his knees onto your thighs and painfully pinning you in place. “Don’t struggle so much. I’ll make this so easy for you.”

His scent is sweet as ever, as your sniffles are shut up by a soft kiss, before he shushes you with his hands softly moving up and down your shoulders. “All you have to do,” a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “-it’s simple-”, a kiss under your jaw, “all I need you to do is let it happen.” A kiss on your sensitive throat, as you try to close your eyes against the pools of tears rolling thickly out of your eyes. “It’s so, so easy, angel. Just let me.” Large, warm hands travel along your thighs over your dress, before slipping the silk upwards.

“You don’t want to marry some brat you barely know. I know you don’t.” He shakes his head side to side once against the skin of your neck, his breathing brushing down your cleavage, before clicking his tongue with a decisive word. “No. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Tooru,” is the pathetic one word you manage to squeak out, grabbing at his shoulders with shaky hands. You’re tired. You’re awfully cold too. And as he noses down the valley of your tits over your flimsy dress, shivers make their way up your spine. He lets one hand move back to your legs to slip his long fingers in between, petting your sensitive pussy over your panties. “Please, I don’t— c-can’t-”

“I know, angel. I know it’s a little fast; trust me— if it were up to me I’d take it more slowly too.” He pulls the front of the dress until your nipple is exposed, before pressing a kiss to the place where your heart is pounding like a hummingbird in your chest. Then he licks over the pebbled nub, sucking in into his mouth with a soft hum.

“Uhuh, so pretty for me. That’s a good girl.” He pushes your legs apart until he can fit in between them, and yanks the last bit of coverage you have aside, not allowing you to cover yourself with your hands. “Just relax. Just have to- ah- make sure,” he rubs a thumb over your pussy as you throw your head back, burying your tear-ridden face in your arms, “you can’t run. Put up with it for me, angel.”

He’s impatient as he spits onto your pussy, rubbing it over your hole with an entranced look, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. His fingers making sure that despite the crying, your body can’t help but accept the pleasure. It feels different when Tooru’s doing it.

“Let me give you a little Oikawa of your own, hm? You’ll get used to it for me. I know you can.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2022. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

"an inconvenient attachment"

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Written by: Dawn Taglist link

jordy’s 2k celebration ⤸

in celebration of this blog reaching 2k followers, i’ve decided to hold a mini celebration as a special thanks for all of the support that i’ve received so far! ♡

to celebrate, i’ll write a mini drabble (500 words, max) for you, and a character of your choosing. this can be either fluff or smut, but whichever you choose, please only enter if you’re aged eighteen or over. to enter, please see the rules below:

via ask, please send in your preferred pronouns, and which character/s that you’d like to be paired with ~

please also let me know whether you’d like your piece to be fluff or smut ~

it would also help if you could tell me a little about what you like about your chosen character/s. these asks won’t be published, they’re just to help me with building an image for your drabble, so feel free to ramble away ~

reblogs would be greatly appreciated ~

depending on how many requests i receive, it’ll probably take a few days to write these, so please note that i won’t start posting until 8/1/23 at the earliest >.<

again, thank you all so, so much for your support over the last few months—i cannot put it into words just how eternally grateful i am to have not only joined this little corner of the internet, but also for each n every one of you who has made this experience as wonderful as it has been so far ♡ thank you ♡

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

˖⁺ ⊹୨ Y2KISSME ! ୧⊹ ⁺˖ ━━ kinktober 2023 !

let’s kick it back to the year two thousand, but this time it’s wetter, wilder and raunchier aka the sexier versions of your fav y2k films.

୨୧ — NOTES. here it is my loves!! kinktober 2023. i hope you guys like it i’m super excited. some things might be scrapped but idk !! we’ll see. click here ! to join the taglist. rbs are totally fetch ! ♡ ⋆｡˚

୨୧ — RATED R: the following films contain nsfw and dark themes. fem!reader. each fic comes with its own warnings. ugh, as if ! minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact.

╰₊✧ OCT 1ST PRINCESS DIARIES - starring; satoru gojo ! ྀི

movie contents: thirty days until you become queen, thirty days to get married and thirty days to stop sneaking around with the man trying to steal your crown…

KINK: breeding ft. spit, infidelity, agoraphilia, daddy kink, baby trapping, breast play, royalty!au.

╰₊✧ OCT 3RD MEAN GIRLS - starring; katsuki bakugou ! ྀི

movie contents: in girl world, halloween is the only time of the year when katsuki bakugou can slut girls out and no one can say anything about it. boo, you whore!

KINK: free use ft. dub-con, cum-play, voyeurism, humiliation, manipulation, dacryphilia.

╰₊✧ OCT 8TH 2 FAST 2 FURIOUS - starring; yoichi isagi ! ྀི

movie contents: if winning a street race means getting ravaged by your ex boyfriend over the hood of your car then… move bitch! get out the way!

KINK: overstimulation ft. scratching, car sex, public sex, food play, sweat kink, dry humping.

╰₊✧ OCT 16TH CLUELESS - starring; megumi fushiguro ! ྀི

movie contents: are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you?

KINK: step cest ft. photos, videos, soft sex, praise kink, body worship, panty sniffing, stuffed animals.

╰₊✧ OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY - starring; eijirou kirishima ! ྀི

movie contents: there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot.

KINK: monsterfucking ft. gags, claiming, choking, branding, blood kink, cock warming.

╰₊✧ OCT 29TH LEGALLY BLONDE - starring; seishiro nagi ! ྀི

movie contents: there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…

KINK: coercion ft. dumbification, overstimulation, mind break, oral fixation, cherry chasing, power imbalance.

╰₊✧ OCT 31ST CHARLIE'S ANGELS - starring; bakugou, kirishima ‘n midoriya ! ྀི

movie contents: your three precious angels deserve a little reward for all the hard work that they do, don’t you think, charlie?

KINK: gangbang ft. dvp, frottage, blowjobs, voice kink, running a train.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Aberration - Chapter 9

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 2.6k

A/N: After 1000 years, chapter 9 is FINALLY COMPLETED. I hope it’s good enough. It’s a wee bit shorter than the last but I wanted to leave this on a specific cliff hanger~ Enjoy!

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, torture, abuse, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing, death and description of dead bodies.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

~~~

Aberration Masterlist

~~~

Move your legs, Y/N!’

It’s like time slowed down as you notice the inmates have been freed. Fear rises inside you knowing each and every single one of these people are dangerous.

‘Move your fucking legs, Y/N!’

You couldn’t move, couldn’t flee. Your body is frozen in pure terror. You KNOW you need to move. You KNOW you need to back out of that goddamn room or you will not survive. But no matter how much you will your legs to move, they’re practically paralyzed underneath you.

“MS. Y/N, YOU NEED TO LEAVE! NOW!”

Keep reading

No Harm List | Pt. 8

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 11,800+

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is one of the most powerful crime lord’s heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, mentions of blow job, mentions of sex trafficking, metions of underage sex trafficking, descirption of panic attack

Genre: Gang/mafia AU, romance, angst, violence, fluff

Rating:  18+

Banner Credit: @mindays

Beta Reader: @punkisnotdead2318

A/N: I’m so sorry it’s been so long!!! I’ve missed you guys so much! University is crazy busy and as you’ll see this chapter was an emotional rollercoaster to write. I had it drafted for over a month but was still hesitent to share. Please note the trigger warnings!!! If you would still like to read I will have an additional warning at the spot where the sex trafficking stuff starts so you can skip that part. Please tell me what you think!!!

Prev.                                           Masterlist 

———————–

You tried not to fidget or appear nervous as you waited in the empty conference room in the East Wing of the Den. You still marveled at the fact that one side of the home was an upscale bachelor pad with all the amenities of a luxury apartment complex under one roof, while the other side held the sterile and professional atmosphere of an office building. 

You gave yourself a moment to take in the architecture of the room; there were three tall windows on the wall across from you, giving you a view of the manicured lawn and what looked to be a rose garden on the far left of the grounds. The walls were painted a deep blue, which gave an atmosphere of professionalism and restraint. The long, walnut-colored conference table was surrounded by black, straight-backed office chairs, and one of the far walls had what looked to be a roll-up projector screen. 

You passed some time imagining what kind of presentations a gang had any business doing in a conference room, amused by the thought of RM making powerpoint presentations for their organized crime. You wondered if RM likes his bar graphs in neutrals or earth tones. 

You adjusted your blouse to make sure it was falling perfectly and saw that the knuckles on your right hand were already showing faint signs of bruising. 

You knew you were too rough this morning. 

RM wasn’t able to meet until noon, so Jungkook insisted you started your morning on the West side of the Den, training with him in the private gym. In the past week and a half since Nox, a notorious smuggler and newly initiated member of the Black Tips followed you through the alleyways of the 7th Ward, Jungkook has been adamant about your protection. Proudly informing you, it was his duty to oversee your safety and surveillance, and that included your ability to defend yourself. 

Keep reading

his dream.

part of the lovetimes7 yandere drabble series (except this isn’t really a drabble anymore bruh).

pairing. jeongguk x f!reader

word count. 2.6k

warnings. yandere behavior. obsessive behavior. stalking. recording without consent. smut (male masterbation, fantasizing about handjobs and blowjobs and penetrative sex). gguk’s awkward as fuck.

would recommend reading shy. before this.

dirty apartment.

dirty boy.

my masterlist!

the first thing jeongguk does when he gets to his apartment is toss his backpack to the side and scream into his pillow.

then, he makes sure that none of his supplies are damaged from the throw before screaming into his pillow again.

the neighbors may file a complaint about how loud he is, but jeongguk doesn’t care. after all, he can probably say that today has been one of the happiest days of his life (aside from the day he saw you for the first time, or the day he went to your apartment alone); because today is the day you asked him for tutoring.

he recalls how you walked into the lecture hall before class started, sitting in your spot a few seats below him (jeongguk made sure to arrive early like he usually does; that way, he could take the chair that allowed him to have the best view of you). it started out like any other lecture. jeongguk, being the smart boy he is, studied the lesson beforehand so he could use the time to watch you listen to the professor. his eyes were glued to you, observing how you squinted at the board with confusion, how you tapped your pen on your chin, how you flipped through your notes and scribbled onto your paper with haste; jeongguk wanted to squeal from how cute you were! aside from watching you, the boy did a lot of daydreaming. he imagined how it would be like to give you his notes, and how you would compliment how neat they were. it had him smiling down at his lap and suppressing a giggle. his fantasies distracted him from realizing that the lecture was over; distracted him from noticing you approaching him; distracted him from your sweet voice calling out to him. poor jeongguk was so confused when you said his name (sh.. she knows my name?!) and asked if he could help you with the lessons, to which he replied with “uh– oh– uh– i mean– y-y-yes!” (poor, shy jeongguk wanted to slap himself for being so awkward, but what could he do? it was his goddess talking to him!).

your smile at his response had him stunned, completely dazed, and the memory plays on repeat in his head even when he opens his apartment door (he couldn’t follow you home today; if he did, he would probably pass out the second he saw your face again!).

jeongguk’s hands ruffle his hair as his ears turn pink. half of him still doesn’t believe that you talked to him. another part thanks himself for all those nights of studying and being at the top of the class; maybe he secretly fantasized about teaching you concepts you were stuck on. the thought of you creeps back into his mind again, and flustered jeongguk searches for a pretty, pink boxes in his drawer. his hands reach for the one labeled ‘_____’s fashion’ (his hand ghosts over the one named ‘_____ sleeping’ before he shakes his head).

jeongguk opens it and carefully takes each picture out, one by one, laying them side by side before opening his closet.

he wanted to look his best for you. he wanted you to compliment his clothes, all while he makes sure that the two of you don’t look out of place for the study… date.

jeongguk was going on a date with you tomorrow.

he jumps on his bed and screams into his pillow again.

Keep reading

AHHHHHHH

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 1

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

A/N: if you couldn’t already tell, I have planned this as a series/full story. I was torn between writing it on here or on Wattpad or something, but ultimately decided on Tumblr … but let me know if you would prefer it on another platform as well! Also, this series will eventually include smut/NSFW content but that will be tagged appropriately when the time comes. As always, I hope you enjoy. 

Next →Part 2

Slamming the front door behind yourself on your way out that morning, you quickly stuffed your earbuds into your ears and cranked your music as loud as you could to drown out the sounds of your parents yelling after you and, consequently, at one another after you had dropped the bomb about your new job on them seconds before you had left, giving them as little time as possible to shame you for it.

After graduating high school and turning 18, you had decided it was time to take your life into your hands, which wasn’t too easy while you were still living under your parents’ roof, but you had to start somewhere and that somewhere was getting a job at the local corner store, Sakanoshita Market. 

You knew that your parents wanted you to go to university and ‘make something of yourself’, but you also knew that you could never truly be happy under their dictatorship-like ruling, so you decided to get a job, no matter how shitty, save your money, move out as soon as possible, and go from there. 

It was definitely going to be a process, and not an easy one, but all you had to do was take it one step at a time.

Keep reading

ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.

୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

let’s get one thing straight. 

not all daddy’s girls are dumb.

on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.

but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.

perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older half sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.

it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.

and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.

“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked. 

it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree. 

you were such a good person. 

turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…

“can i come?” 

with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.” 

“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.

rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.” 

you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).

however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banger the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with. 

instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi  constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried. 

“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?” 

“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips. 

megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him. 

you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t  expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan. 

he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice. 

fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and longing them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.” 

he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too. 

you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it? 

megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time. 

finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”  

the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.

the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.

your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress! 

the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi. 

he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head. 

“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.” 

like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be. 

“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.” 

fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?” 

“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.” 

“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.” 

flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips. 

“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly. 

you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.

everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal. 

this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body. 

“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“

he lets go of your wrists.

tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twist against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree. 

“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.

you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company. 

“quite staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…” 

he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.” 

fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”

it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now. 

“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.” 

his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.

“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?” 

the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.” 

heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly. 

“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze. 

the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.” 

you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more. 

“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?” 

“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.

he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.” 

fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing yo i to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.” 

he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him. 

because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all. 

“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.” 

the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later. 

pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?” 

he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease. 

they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you. 

“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers. 

he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.

tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.” 

you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.

you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last. 

“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs. 

a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.

“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.

you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless. 

now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today. 

your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself.  “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.” 

his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand. 

“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself. 

this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?” 

you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there. 

“fuck…yes.” 

“and you won’t touch me?” 

“not until i’m satisfied, princess.” 

and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs. 

“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”

he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.

even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.

“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”

megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.

one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.

each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.

“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.

sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.

“s-shut up.” 

“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.” 

he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.

you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows  “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.” 

you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until  a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.

you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs. 

clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much. 

“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?” 

nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.

he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi. 

your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.

there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb. 

“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”

your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.

“f-fuck, g-gumi!” 

fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you.  “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.” 

your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.” 

fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.” 

the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.

he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you. 

“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit. 

“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.” 

megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response. 

“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”

“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”

the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hardly that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.

your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.” 

despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.

“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you fish all fucking over me.” 

that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.

“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.” 

he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.

“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect. 

“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.

he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.” 

your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?” 

“really. if it means that much to you.” 

sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chest kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.” 

“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?” 

“maybe.” 

“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest. 

you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight. 

except this time, you’re not as clueless. 

you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.