Ode To A Conversation Stuck In Your Throat

┌─ “ ! „ SHE’S ‘TAKEN’

tw. a/b/o, forced cheating, alpha!umemiya is sort of sleazy, noncon/dubcon, a lot of alpha/omega, spit, breeding, knotting, size kink, reader called short/tiny/little, squirting, snowballing, calling ume daddy, pseudo-cesty, niichan, unrelated vomit mention, possessiveness, praise, degradation, a lot of orgasms, (belly bulge), fighting

wordcount. 9.1k

a/n. alternate title: oh is she?,, a million thank yous to mel @gimme-hiragi for helping me with my wb questions and rhi @seijorhi loml you’re the best for always reading my writing through for me ur the backbone of my life couldn’t do nothing without you ♡ and thank you aki for letting me joIN yOUR LOVELY EVENt it is adorable i had such a good time writing!!!

for @xrux’s into the omegaverse collab

umemiya hajime x fem!reader x kaji ren

“Let go, I’m over it!” Everyone’s looking at the way you yank up the edge of your top to make sure you’re covered, yank the edge of your ripped jeans skirt a bit lower. You’re wobbling side to side on your heels as you bend to take one off, almost falling in the process only to lean your head against Kaji’s lower stomach, whimpering all the while. You hick, and pout— ungraceful in a way only drunk people can be.

The icy blond by your side still has his sweater held out to you, as he pants, fists balled to his side with gritted teeth. “Don’t made a scene. Put it on.”

They’d been out on their own, ‘til Kaji suddenly slammed his phone down on the table and left behind their orders of yakiniku. To drag his very sloppy girlfriend, you, out of some sleazy bar lined with jerks smoking enough to make the entire alley cloudy. Now he has a forming black eye to match his bad attitude, but the other guy was worse off. The -not getting up, nose crooked and bloody- kind of worse.

You’re not Hajime’s girlfriend, so he’s in no position to judge, but at the very least he’d also feel sort of uncomfortable leaving any girl in a place like this. Former gang territory. Whole lot of grimy types, the kind they protect people from. If you’re dating Kaji, he’s sure you know that.

You bend over your knees to gag up nothing, pushing away Kaji’s hand when he reaches to hold your hair back.

You’re a mess, from what he can tell perched against the wall along with Sakura, Nirei and Hiragi. The former two who look mildly uncomfortable, the latter who’s own distracted hands search his jacket for his phone. “What do you wanna do? Call it a night?”

Umemiya’s honestly off as bad as you are, curtesy of the badly mixed drinks he’d been throwing back, and he guesses none of the guys are any better off. Sakura can’t hold his drinks at the best of times, and it’s been a long night of celebrations. 5:08, the display of Hiragi’s phone shows.

His mind ticks a bit slower than he’d like.

A moment where he debates getting involved, but then sighs. “I’d like to let them fix it on their own, though~”

You’re still leaning against your boyfriend’s hip as you try again to work something out with your shoe, hair flopped forward all over your face. Round and soft and totally out of place in a spot like this, though the way you’re dressed you definitely could have him fooled if you tried. It’s in the way your eyes flick up all big and innocent-like at your boyfriend’s call, that he can tell.

Kaji’s already draped the sweater over your shoulders, something you don’t seem to realize— because when he tries to help you up you only snap more. “Stop touching me, I’m gonna go home!”

“Go home faster then.” Kaji fumes, though one hand remains around your waist until you’re done with whatever needed adjusting on your terribly flimsy looking heels. “Can’t you just once do what I ask of you? You make me crazy,” he breathes back, and you get- what he supposes should be nose to nose. You’re a couple inches too short to square up to anyone.

“You know what, Ren.” Your pretty lips sound out the words slowly. “Fuck you.”

At that, one of the onlookers hoots enthusiastically, and Kaji’s brows get even more furrowed— but he only stares you down. With neither side backing down, he eventually plops one of his signature suckers in his mouth to cut the conversation short.

You turn and start wobbling down the stairs of the club, not even sparing them a glance.

Your big eyes are dark and blown and you’ve got a nose that’s bitten by the cold with tears, or snot, dripping— he’s not sure when you started crying, but you definitely are now. “‘M so sick of your goddamn attitude.” You breathe. Kaji’s close behind to pull you back by your wrist, but this time you let out a whimper. You yank your arm out of his grip as you plant both feet against the way he tries not so graciously to drag you, and the sandy blond has a vein that thumps in his temple.

“Don’t touch me! Leave me alone. Go be a possessive prick to someone else.” You take the sweater from around your shoulders and shove it back into his chest hard enough to make him step back. Then you finally start walking off down the wet, littered street under the encouraging whistling of the drunkards lined up against the other wall.

When Kaji no longer makes an attempt to stop you, the few of them slowly make their way over to the young man— and Umemiya places an empathetic hand on the other’s shoulder. Kaji’s steely blue eyes trace you even as you swing your hips, eye twitching. “Stubborn fucking-,” he pants, “Omega brat- can’t hold a drop of her liquor.” Ah. Kaji runs a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand up every which way, before he finally grits his teeth.

“Someone please fucking go after her. She’s days out from heat and restless to shit, she’ll get herself hurt.” Yeah, that’ll do it. That explains the big blinkers and the sweetness. Hiragi’s quick to start looking for his motorcycle keys, but the oldest waves his hand at that.

“You can’t drive in this state, Hiragi. You’ll hit someone. We still have to pay and our food is waiting for us, too.” Sakura and Nirei wouldn’t speak up about it, but leaving the food behind must’ve stung. He hands his card to Kaji with a smile. “I got ‘er. You guys are staying at my place anyway, right? Take a few hours to round off a good night.” He winks. “Leave it up to your niichan!”

He only has to follow you about two blocks before you crouch down and start sniffling, and he stops a few feet short of you as not to scare you. Even without Kaji’s explanation, he’d be able to tell that the honeyed, enticing scent emanating from you is too sugary to be anything other. With how close he comes to a halt by your side it’s almost choking on his lungs. Umemiya clears his throat. “Hey, you remember me?”

You’re crying into your palms, skirt halfway up your ass and exposing your panties— he’s just glad it’s just you two here. “I- hck- didn’t mean it. ‘M sorry, Ren kun. Jus’ wanna- I’m all over the place. Just- feel weird right now. I’m sorry, I really am.” Pre-heat mood swings. You’re cute, even cuter when you suck your bottom lip in between your teeth and wipe the tears to look up at him. When you notice he’s not in fact ‘Ren-kun’, you get a bit embarrassed.

Even though he doesn’t know you too well, he does notice you’re definitely pretty. Hot, even. Despite the mascara and eyeliner smudged onto your lower eyelids, your lips look soft as they open to say -nothing-, and you breathe in and out.

He can’t help but let eyes flick down to your ass resting on your ankles, how your plush thighs stick out from under the tightened skirt and you’re not even thinking of covering up. It’s not your fault. He’s trying not to get too much of your scent down deep into his lungs, but way he’s guessing, you’ve probably got a day before your body will start heating from the inside out- leave your pussy a wet, wanton clenching mess to get bred full-

He needs something else to think about. Something other than those sheer lace panties that show all of your pussy if he really tries to look.

“You’re… Kaji’s friend. Bofurin, right? We’ve seen each other before, though it’s the first time we’ve really talked.” You’re calmed down enough to get flustered when he too comes to sit on his heels, nice leather jacket brushing the floor. Good to know that the presence of an Alpha doesn’t scare you off. If anything, you’re calm enough to get affected by him, and it makes pride bloom inside his chest. “It’s Ume…”

“Umemiya Hajime.”

Since you’ll be staying at his place with your boyfriend for a good two weeks anyway, you might as well stay a little sooner. He’s pretty sure that’d be fine, but he’ll have to text to check. “Kaji asked me to take you home since he can’t. When you’re ready.”

You start gathering your hair into a pony as you nod. “Sorry about earlier, Umemiya-san. Don’t know what came over me. I think I’m just a little -overly emotional right now. I- might’ve drank too much too.” Probably Kaji’s frustration about the situation that set you off in the first place. You stare at a dent in the road with a lidded look as you talk- then clear your voice. “Mh.”

He smiles, before reaching out to pet your head. Being this close to an Omega getting into heat just feels electric, he can’t help it. He wants to pick you up and lick your tears from your face. Not that he will. You’re a precious kouhai’s, and that’s stronger than anything his animalistic nature demands he do. You’re quiet until he pulls his hand back, holds the urge to wind it down to your little neck and bite down on soft skin. You’re just so affected right now.

He’s sort of surprised Kaji didn’t start an all out brawl with whoever was no doubt drooling all over you in that club. He’s about halfway there himself, and he’s only got honourable intentions.

If you’re bothered by his silence, you don’t say anything. So he nods.

“Kaji said something about holding your liquor, yeah- but I-” A guttural groan rings between you two. When he looks back at you, you’re bending over your own knees to gag, placing both hands on the dirty street to hold yourself. “Oh- whoops,” he chuckles, and reaches out to hold your hair back, as you throw up away from your nice shoes as best you can. “You got it, sweetheart. I’ve got water in my car.”

+

He’s halfway through a cup of coffee when he hears you rummaging in the other room. A bit of shuffling, before you put your clothes from last night back on, probably. He only got you halfway through the door before you started stripping against the warmth. “Ren? Huh- babe?” You ask into the hall, and your cute, little voice rings out. You’re scenting up his whole apartment, have been since he woke up first thing at daybreak. It’s definitely stronger than it was even last night when he dropped you into his bed with the explicit intention of washing the sheets as soon as you woke up.

He clears his voice. “Ren said he’d be over in the afternoon. Apparently Sakura puked all over his car…”

”Oh.”

It doesn’t take too long for you to come out of his room wrapped in a blanket over the terribly short mini skirt, and the definite glow of a sheen of sweat on your cheeks as you process. 

In the morning light it’s even easier to see that you’re an Omega through and through. Every part of you is soft and rounded and supple for grabbing, flushed face blinking away sleep. Truth is, he really doesn’t know you all that well. He knows you met Kaji through Enomoto in high school. Knows you started dating somewhere around university— and that some of the Furin guys got into a bit of a scuffle over it. Didn’t think you should be dating Kaji, or Kaji you- he can’t remember.

Seeing how you pop your hip out to watch him, blink those big doe eyes up at him— he think he sort of understands. After a few seconds too long where you start to giggle at the silence, he stops studying you to grin. “Coffee? A cold water?”

“I appreciate that you’re so willing to brush my behavior from yesterday aside, but I’m still sorry. That you Bofurin lot always have to step up. And that I ended up causing trouble for Ren again...” It might be the heat in the room, but his collar feels a bit too tight when you rest your ass against the cupboards with a little smile. Your heat is not just close, it’s full-on started. His chest feels heavier, and skin a bit tight.

You hum. “…Something cold would be great, thank you. I’m feeling a little hot.”

The way you look up at him from under your lashes tells him you aren’t entirely unaware of it, either. He can’t decide if you’re coy, or just trusting. He pulls his sweater over his head and tosses it onto the table, smoothing his shirt out in agreement. “Might be hot in here, yeah.”

It’s so quick he almost misses it. But you eyes definitely slip to the sliver of skin that shows when the fabric rides up. It makes his groin stir in his shorts to watch how you catch yourself, and heat makes its way up to the tips of your ears and nose.

He hums as he bends for the fridge, not bothering to watch you as he talks. Your scent is so strong you could hide across the street and he’d be able to sniff you out. A thought that, however guilty he feels about it, sounds really fucking good right about now. Chasing you down to sink his hot cock into that needy, fertile Omega cunt. His heart’s pounding like you’ll run any second, and he’s no longer as sure as he was last night that he could stop himself from chasing. Was it like this when his ex was going into heat too?

The cold water drips condensation down his arm when he hands it over to you. “You mean you cause trouble for Kaji often?”

You bite your lip. “We just have …discussions like that a lot, even though I love him very much. I guess we just still aren’t entirely used to each other.” When he lifts his eyebrow in question, you rub your both palms over your cheeks to get rid of the heat, dragging them through your hair. “You might’ve noticed that I’m an Omega.” Baby, ‘might’ve’ isn’t the word he’d use. It’s all he’s been able to think about since you stepped foot into his apartment yesterday.

His mind flashes to his precious kouhai for a moment, but the way your throat hitches snaps it out of him instantly.

You seem to get even hotter as you talk, and your voice pitches up into a softer sort of noise that makes the hairs on his neck stand upright. “It’s not like we’re a dying breed or anything… But ratio wise, people are used to Beta’s. Ren- would know how to handle a Beta. Most heat blockers don’t work too well on me,” you confess, “and Ren can’t just sit pretty for a week every other month to… s-service- me-”

You’re struggling on the words, like even mentioning the possible sex you’ll have pains you.

It’s so fucking cute. Poor little Omega doesn’t know what to do with herself. You’re not wrong though. He doesn’t know what it’s like for you, but without effective blockers, it’s not hard to imagine it really is all consuming.

“We’re still- trying to find our rhythm, and last time we couldn’t, a whole bunch of Furin got dragged into it because I couldn’t contain myself. It’s just embarrassing.” His breathing gets laboured just seeing you shift uncomfortably. Watches how your eyes dialate as your lashes flutter desperately up and down. You’re a fruit ripe for picking, baby. He tastes sugar in the air when he smiles, and your gaze finds his.

A stray sane thought reminds him he should back up. Open a window or something.

The Alpha in him is pounding on his brain though, making everything hard to stomach. He licks his bottom lip. “I don’t know, maybe he should consider it.”

“Wh- taking time off for me every heat?” You ask back, as your brows furrow. As you back up against the cupboards and squeak in surprise when you knock your heels against them.

Fuck, he’s getting so hard. If only he could lean you back a little further. He reaches out to take your face between his fingers and watch how your lips drop open. “Are you saying Kaji doesn’t want to?” Pretty, pink little tongue darting out to wet them. It’s only when you stop talking wide-eyd, that he notices he closed the distance at some point and is now basically towering over you, feet to feet with your face at his chest. 

”I-I’m saying I don’t want him to- pu- put his life on hold… and- Umemiya-san.” Fuck. He can hear the way your heart beats like a hummingbird in your chest. “You’re too close,” you’re starting to get that signature scared bunny look. Your eyes go anywhere but up at him where he wants you, as you swallow and ignore the cold shiver going through your body. The blanket’s pooled at your feet. “Where’s my phone, Ren should come now.”

“Hm, I put it somewhere…” He does try to think. It’s just that you’re looking so woefully vulnerable and flushed and desperate to get rid of that itch that’s starting to build in your belly. He leans in, you push against his chest. It honestly only turns him on more. He shouldn’t be this eager to take a bite of you right from under Ren’s nose, right? His hands wind down your waist and you honest-to-God mewl like a fucking kit- whining when he leans in.

Just a few little kisses won’t kill either of you. His shorts feel way too tight, and a nagging little voice in the back of his head asks him to just fill you up, knot inside you. Bite an ugly mark right over the faded one Kaji gave you. “Umemiya-san.” He’s big enough that he could take your boyfriend on if he had to. He pushes in and grabs the back of your neck. “Umemiya!” You force out, before his mouth finds yours and he hikes you up against the kitchen cupboards for better access.

Your head falls back instinctively, letting his lips push against you, tongue pushing against yours as he steps up to your body. Large hands that glide up under your top and brush the sensitive skin under your tits- until you moan softly into his mouth, arching your back. He can’t help but chuckle. It’s not exactly proper to use a girl’s heat against her, feeling you spread your legs wider to make room. He kisses deeper, licks against your gums to make you taste of him, before whispering. “So vocal. What would Kaji say?”

It only takes a second of instinct, thump ringing out.

You punch him in the cheek. More surprised than anything, he grunts low and drawn out as he grabs his jaw, and watches how you scramble back to the floor and far away from him. The punch didn’t actually hurt much, you didn’t put any weight into it. Your anxious energy is what really does it, searching for his eyes with tears in your own. “My phone,” you beg more than say, hands now protectively around yourself.

He blinks a few times, until he can store away that predatory scow for long enough to speak. “Sorry. I got carried away.” Your face gets hot again, shoulders dropping. “You’re okay, I promise. The strength of it just took me aback, ‘is all. You did good socking me out of it.” The silver blond puts on a smile.

Besides that, he just wanted it more than he wanted to stop it.

He can’t exactly say that though, instead perching himself back against the cupboards. A safe distance away from where you’re rubbing the backs of your hands over your cheeks full of embarrassment, trying not to push your thighs together. It only makes him want to pin you down even more. His eyes glide down your body again. “We were switching apartments, right? You should probably head over there now. Tell Ren to head over quicker, that my heat came early.” You swallow heavily.

He definitely can’t tell you that right now, he’d rather do anything else. That would make him a bad guy. Someone Kaji shouldn’t have trusted with you. He’s got better things to do than obsess over some animalistic breeding instinct, doesn’t he? He should be worrying about making sure his little brothers are alright, that Sakura isn’t dying.

He nods as he stands to make his way past you. The scent is so heavy now that it’s taking everything in his power not to drool, and his chubbed up cock twitches to life in his boxers at the way you stare him down.

+

“Umemiya.” The dinner place is too loud, or the call too quiet for him to pay attention the first time. “Umemiya.” Hiragi repeats louder, and when that still doesn’t get results, he punches his arm softly. A bit harder than he could, for good measure. “Umemiya, what’s up with you? You keep spacing out on me midway conversation.”

Hiragi pops the cigarette back between his lips, watching him through his eyelashes as he sparks the lighter with one hand. In response, the blond wafts away some of the smoke, then hums. “My bad. You know the girl from the bar this morning, right- the cute, little thing… big eyes, short skirt, uhm- y’know the Omega,” he distractedly picks up his beer to tilt it edge to edge as Hiragi lifts a brow.

“Are you talking about Kaji’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s the one.” He makes a bit of a show of tapping his fingers on his bottom lip, before resting his head in his palm. “I’m just trying to figure out where I’ve seen her before.”

“Uhuh.”

If his long lasting friend thinks anything about his sudden curiosity, he has enough sense not to say it. Hiragi’s a good guy. Probably good enough to put a stop to Umemiya himself if he acted out too much. When the silvery blond doesn’t elaborate, Hiragi just clears his voice, tapping ash into the tray. “Not sure. I know she didn’t go to Furin or San Middle though.” He furrows his brows when Umemiya only drinks. “Didn’t you run into her with Kaji before? They’ve been dating for a good while now.”

“No, no, I would’ve remembered that. It was before Kaji. I could’ve sworn…” He swings his arms next to his chair, before tapping his hand on the table when he ‘remembers’. “Oh, wasn’t she- one of the Shishitoren girls back when.” A genial smile tugs at his lips before taking another sip. “Before, when they were still using girls like expensive cars and Togame would drag them around town to patrol our borders. Would drive all the Beta’s up the walls. I think I even remember Kaji getting-”

“-Into a fight over it with some of our guys, yeah.” Hiragi suddenly clicks his fingers, “that might’ve been her, after all.” He takes a drink of his own glass, humming along the rim. “I scolded him for it back then, but looking back, he was probably just protecting the person he loved. In his way.”

Sure… Umemiya stares off into the rest of the bar instead of replying. Always so genuine, Tamon’s team captain. Can’t fault the guy. But his honesty really does get in the way. Across from him, Hiragi lifts his own bottle. “So?”

He knows his eyes are too sharp in the low light. Umemiya puts on his best smile. “No, nothing. I’m just glad Togame turned a new leaf since then.” He finally allows himself to grab one of the delicious looking skewers, humming around the mouth full. “I mean, it would be some real shit for Kaji if Shishitoren suddenly wanted their Omega pet back.”

+

He crashes his mouth to yours, hands either side of you ass to lift you off the floor and drop you ask into bed, grunting. “Mh-hgh, came as,” he growls against your mouth, tongue tasting so much like strawberry lollipop, “soon as I fucking could. Stupid extra patrols gettin’ in my way.” His hands grab anywhere he can reach, digging in deep.

He’s short of breath, and you know it’s your scent that’s got him all rattled. Sinking his cock into you is one of the few moments he allows himself to let loose- you can tell by the way he’s chubbed up in his pants he’s been thinking about you for a while. He grunts into your mouth, tongue tasting yours. “Knew- you were- mhm-gonna get there. Been twitchy all day.”

“Uhuh, missed you. Missed you so much, all day- wan’it.” Your nails rake along his back to pull him closer, all his weight on top of you, and obnoxious kissing noises fill the room. You can’t help yourself, the heat travels down every vein, settles in your toes, your hands, in your tongue. The tongue currently being sucked into your boyfriend’s mouth as he grunts your name and makes you rock your center against the seam of his jeans until he pulls back. “Ren, Ren, Ren~”

Umemiya’s bed squeaks under the weight as he gets on top of you halfway, one thigh straddling you against the mattress.

More. You want more. Your heart is banging like a battering ram against your ribs as you slide your hands under his sweatshirt, and drag your fingers up the ridges and dents of his muscles, the thin scars. All while whimpering like an animal, something you might not be aware of, but is driving your Alpha absolutely insane.

A low rumble falls from his chest as he grips your face harshly, and steely blues flick over your expression. He black eye has started turning pretty purple under his skin, cut still on his brow. “Still a brat? Gonna fight me again for taking care of ya?”

“Nuh uh,” you quickly say back, and press sweet, messy kisses on his pink lips. They’ve gone all puffy, and it’s making it hard to think straight.

“Wanna take some medicine? Just in case,” Kaji pants after a few seconds in concern, hand worming its way between your bodies for his fingers to swipe over the absolute mess you’ve made out of your panties. They’re soaked straight through— something that once he notices, he takes a laboured breath so slow it makes him flush all the way up his chest. “Fu—ck, pretty girl. You’ve been wet and empty all day like this?”

”Mhm.” You nod again. Don’t have even a single thought to tell him that you sat with the terrible ache ever since another blond fought his way out of the door, because that was a stupid accident. Stupid. Single. Accident. “Ren, Ren- please. Mh-ghuh,” you moan, and your body curls to rub against his crotch despite yourself, “can’t take any more. Please~ please, please, please. Want- my Alpha.” Sticky, translucent slick is all over your pussy, ran down your thighs and ass and you’re now getting it all over his pants.

Your boyfriend looks so wild and unfocused it could honestly be kind of scary- if you weren’t already scenting up the whole house and terribly shaky yourself. Your legs wrap around his glutes to pull him closer, as the icy blond tries to stutter out a groan. “Your pills…”

“Don’t want ‘m if you’re here. Ren, I want your cock already~”

The tiniest twitch to his lips proves he’s smiling into another messy kiss he lays on you, before starting to drag his teeth along your neck. “So fucking whiny. ‘S cute. Yeah, you wanna have me fucking you full for days? Get stuffed full of cock ‘til you can’t stand?” Yes. Yes yes yesyesyes. You’re not sure if you’re nodding, because all you can feel is his fingers pressing into your thighs, grabbing your ass and forcing you right up against the seam of his pants.

When he reaches the spot you’re the most sensitive with his mouth, your body stills in anticipation, and almost explodes when instead of bitin down, Ren’s hot tongue makes circles over the tiniest scar he left last time. “My little Omega bitch, mine, mine.”

His eyes have gone all blown out. Your own face is burning hot, and so is everything else as you let him mark up your neck, sniffing around the area without any other thought. You want his bite, you want his cock and his knot in you, filling you up to the brim ‘til you’re nice and full and round and you’re good to nest up— you want to be bred full so bad it’s all you can think about.

”Mh-mghh, Ren~” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own. It barely belongs to you, pitched and tiny and so fucking desperate.

You don’t notice the way your moans are filling the room or how wet and messy your pussy’s getting his pants. Just that his heartbeat’s in his tongue as he sucks harder and harder until his teeth grate over your throat. Ren grunts as he pulls back, one hand grabbing your one of your tits to kneed greedily in the flesh, as the other starts pulling your underwear off from under your skirt. “Smells too much like Umemiya in here-” It’s angry but not accusing, as he stands back to watch your glistening pussy clench around nothing.

“Turn over.” Your legs shake, and without much will of your own you start rolling over to stick your ass in the air to give him a better view. Kaji’s voice just gets quiet, as two fingers slide the slick around your pussy down to your clit. When you mewl, jerking at the touch, he throws his head back and groans deep and animalistically, before holding the fingers to his nose. His eyes clench shut when they roll back in his skull. “Shhh-Stay down. Everything off- fuck, fucking shit, babe. ‘S fucking hot —all mine.”

It’s instinct that makes you oblige. Not a single coherent thought makes it through your brain. Just him, in you, your pussy, your mouth, you want Ren, Ren, Ren, your Alpha fucking you, over you, breeding you. It’s so hot, but you’re still cold without the heat of his fat cock in you. The top goes first, ungracefully pull it over your face and lose an earring in the process. You want him. Your poor pussy wants to be so full, full full full you can’t walk fo a week.

“Alpha, n- hurry, hurry. Hurts without you, really, really does. Wan’get bred. Hurry~”

His headphones land somewhere with a thump as he pulls sweatshirt and shirt over his head in one go, then grabs himself through his jeans with a rumbled swear. You’ve soaked a wet patch through his jeans too. As soon as your skirt’s down the curve of your ass Ren’s already leaning into you, buries his face against your pretty, sloppy pussy and starts to lick and kiss, slurping as he tongue fucks your hole every few seconds.

When he locks lips around your clit you have to force your face down into the blankets to cry out, biting down on the blanket. Spit gets on your cheek when you cry out for him, and grind back against his face. Strong hands and long fingers hold your ass open until he can lick your pussy clean, before pulling back just to spit on it again. “Alpha, alpha, need your c-knot. Please.” You’re babbling to yourself more than to him, because he’s entranced with the way your sloppy pussy winks around nothing, how the slick mixes with his spit to drip down your folds. “Ren, your cock. Puh—lease!”

His long fingers land on your ass a few times, rings stinging upon impact, before he pushes your back down into an even more extreme arch and lets out another groan. “Prettiest Omega pussy I’ve ever seen, only one I want. Ain’t that right? You can act out and be a brat, but this is mine.” You look back over your shoulder just enough to watch him drool, slick down his chin when he pulls back and gives you a look.

Dark eyes almost entirely glossed over, he pinches your clit meanly- and your squeak makes the tiniest curl grace his lips. “Say it for me. Who does this little pussy belong to?”

”You.”

His thumb swipes over your clit before grinding down, two other fingertips pushing into you. “Mh. Who?” He’s mean, he’s so mean it’s making you tear up, forcing your head back into the blankets as your cunt tingles and aches and the touch is making you push back against him.

“You, Ren! It belongs to. My. Alpha. My- aaah-ah- Ren~, fucking please put it in. Ren, Ren please. It hurts.” Tears dampen the fabric, the two fingers sliding in halfway isn’t enough. You need- need more. “Please. Please.” He places another kiss on your clit before his touch vanishes, and you can hear the lewd sound of him licking his own fingers clean. You’re so hot sweat tickles on your hairline, the base of your neck.

And then, the click of his belt makes you moan, loud.

The familiar sound has you biting down on your hand, legs almost giving in. The smell of his musk is making it hard to stay upright. You can barely hear yourself think over the rushing blood between your ears, and the heartbeat thumping in your pussy. He groans, “Look at me. Look here,” and long fingers tangle in your hair to force you. Watch your boyfriend squeeze his pretty, extremely flushed cock a bit too tight. The head’s a blushy purple glossy with precum, that drips as he holds back a little pant.

”Wan’it?”

You don’t speak- can’t. Just back yourself up against him until the cock is rubbing against your ass and the warm pre gets all over you, as you moan. As you try to form a coherent thought, and Ren chuckles. “That’s a sweet way of sayin’ yes. Open your mouth.” He leans in while rubbing geedy circles over your ass, then lets a glob of spit land on your awaiting tongue with another huff. “So good for me.”

His hand spanks you again, hard enough to have you forced forward, before lining up properly. The wet sound of his cock patting on your pussy is the only for a moment, one that seem to last entirely too long— before finally, finally you feel the hot mushroom head push in. Into your slick, wet cunt and pushing past the ring of muscle inside and deeper. Deeper, deeper, until Kaji grunts low and gutturally and his thighs hit against yours as he bottoms out.

It feels so fucking right. Good, full, you want more, wan’ stay like this and your head’s spinning so good— Your breathing only continues when he groans a low ‘breathe’, pulling your hair and shaking your head. “Breathe, baby. Don’t pass out.” Your hands are fisted so tight into the blankets your knuckles show, only managing to lift your head enough to cry out a moan.

”Move, please. Please, move- ghhuh, fuck—ing God.” His hips move back with the squelch of your clamping pussy, then dives back in. The first pump is strained, the second is heaven. It’s only when he starts to move in you that you feel how full you are- how fucking deep he’s hitting inside you and rocking the bed with his weight. He’s moaning so pretty each time he bottoms out- fucking your walls open with each thrust. His balls his against you with a wet ‘pap’, and your tits feel too- too needy.

Your Alpha’s inside, finally, finally, you can’t hold the moaned whimpers. “Ah, agh, ahhRen, t-touch me more, please. Touch me.” You search for his hand that’s holding you down to drag it under your body, making him grunt— only breathing deeper when his nose nuzzles into your neck. Something’s ringing, but you don’t have the free thoughts to think about it.

He’s gonna make you cum. His one hand on your tits, other on your clit, he fucks you like he’s made to be there. Stretches your clenching walls around his curved shaft too perfectly- every thrust makes more slick drip out down your thighs. He feels so good. So- fucking- good. And his panting in your ear, low rumbled voice grating on your brain. He licks along your jaw to wipe some of the sweat, or tears, you can’t tell anymore. “Gonna fuck y’full, breed that stupid Omega pussy like a bunny.”

It just- feels- so so good. You’re gonna cum. You want him to get stuck in you and knock you up. There’s only his breathing and your banging heart, as his cock drives in and out and hits that perfect spot, made for you. His fingers swipe over your clit so good your eyes squeeze shut, and thighs clench. “‘S what you deserve, huh, yeah? You want that? Wan’ me to fuck my knot into you and pump you full of my pups?” You can’t help lock around him, hand digging into his arm. Your entire body stutters and goes white—

Shuddering around his cock as the coil inside you snaps. ”Alpha, R-ah, aghh- ahg, gon’- Mh-ugh Ren!” He drives in again and again and again until your toes stop curling and the desperate hold on his forearm loosens and- the ringing is back. “Mhm-Ren.”

He’s barely conscious as you feel his lashes flutter against your cheek, and he turns to the sound. “Fucking’—” He doesn’t pull out of you, but does reach for the phone just to groan loud, annoyed, clicks his tongue. When he picks up he puts his free hand over your mouth, but presses a kiss to your ear. “Fucking what?” He hisses into the device, rests his head against yours. Still feels good, he still- feels so good. You can’t help clenching around him and making him choke— before he continues. “Short. Enomoto, as short as you fucking can.”

”It’s Kuguri,” you hear him through the phone, “he’s alone, and I’m out of town, so is half of Bofurin. They— it’s bad, Ren. You need to come help.” You know he doesn’t mean to, but a desperate groan is forced out of his throat.

You can tell, it’s entirely instinct the way he desperately tries a little longer to rock himself into you, before letting out a sharp breath through his nose. “W- why is he alone— what are you talking about? What the fuck happened?”

“It’s Shishitoren! Don’t know. They’ve beat his face black and blue, I don’t know either! Hurry to the Ori.” Kaji’s body’s gone entirely tight. Enomoto just says a last, “Umemiya’s orders,” before ending the call, and Ren smashes his phone down into the pillows.

“Ren,” you pant desperately, you want more. “Nhg- Alpha, please, Ren.” You know, it’s not fair, but you’re so- hot. The sane thought that rings through your mind is just so quiet when compared to the budding flower that is your heat. You’re so empty. It’s not enough.

Your Alpha looks like he might burst.

“I- I can’t- fuck,” his hand moves from your mouth to push himself back against you, before he starts sliding out. You turn onto your back to look at him, watch his internal struggle as his thin brows dig such a deep frown it must hurt. Hurt bad— you sit up to grab his hand. You can finish him off! His steely eyes find yours as he clenches his teeth. “Don’t. You say that, I’ll stay and if I stay I won’t wan’ go ever. I don’t wanna go.”

It takes everything in you to keep your mouth shut against the Omega desperately mewling inside you— as a loud bang comes at the door. “Kaji!” It’s Umemiya. “I’m sorry, man. It’s an emergency!”

“Shit- fuck,” the blond grunts out, throws his head back, before grabbing his clothes from the floor. You can’t look or you’ll cry.

“I just heard- came to pick you up. We’re taking my car,” his superior calls through the door, oblivious. It hurts. It physically hurts to watch the way he puts his boxers back on over his incredibly hard cock, breathing deeply all the while. His cock is still so slick it creates a wet imprint through the fabric. “Kaji?”

You hate him a little right now. You hate them both, pushing your hand between your legs to clamp your too little fingers where something much better just filled it— The sound of his quick dressing makes you nauseous. The ache only worsens when your boyfriend sends you an awfully guilty look and wraps his hand around your ankle to squeeze, and you have to shut your eyes against the welling up of an onslaught of tears.

“Coming!” Ren snaps when the fists pound again, and he clicks his tongue.

You know, really, but can’t help but shudder as your fingers rub over your pussy and leave it so unsatisfied. So empty it makes you go cold. Kaji groans out under his breath and opens a new sucker. He leans in to place a kiss on your shin, clenches his eyes shut hard, desperate. “Be right back, baby.”

“Fucking- go, I can’t,” you squeak back, and also cry- there’s no way this is happening. Your skin feels like it’s being turned inside out when his touch leaves you, first slow and then all at once. “Ah-Quickly, Ren, it hurts so bad- hck- agh-ahhh.” You can just manage to clamp your free hand down into the blankets to keep yourself from sliding off the bed in pursuit of more— pushing the image out of your head until you feel the fade of his presence and your body burns.

It hurts so bad.

“You were in the middle of something? Oh. —Oh.”

You hear the latch of the door, but you can’t focus on it, only roll back over to bury your face into the sheets. “Mh-hck—mn hah-Alpha, Alpha, no no no don’t leave, don’t leave. It hurts, it hurts so bad, baby- come back. Come back please. Please, Ren, please, please. Pl- gh-please.” You’re calling your voice hoarse. Your lip is pulled between your teeth at the smell of Alpha all over you, and your whining, needy pussy slicks even more obnoxiously.

“Need t’ fucking leave. Now. I’m gonna -lose it.”

Kaji growls deep and loud, coming from deep in his chest in the other room; even more Alpha scent fills your lungs. Makes you burn from the tips of your ears to your toes, as every cell seems to submit. Another familiar, normally smooth, lithe voice is more raspy when it filters through the wall. “Right behind you, man. You hurry on— I’m just gonna-”

“Where’s Hiragi and the others?”

“I’m calling them now,” Umemiya agrees.

Everything makes your clit thump with blood, your tongue thick and wet licking your lips. The door slams and keys jingle in the lock, and you whine out like a dying welp. “No! Wait, Ren— Alpha, Alpha, please. Please, please I need- I need to- be full. I’m gonna die, hurts so bad.” You’re panting makes everything worse, unsteady, shaking with that horrible feeling of emptiness. “Aw, ah! Don’t leave.”

“Shhh, shh sh shh.”

You claw at the blankets. Alpha scent fills you, and your scenting goes crazy- spiking all over the room. Umemiya’s room. His face flicks through your head, you don’t know why. “Poor pet. Does it hurt that bad?”

You find yourself rubbing your cheek into the blankets up and down weekly, rolled onto your side. Fat tears roll out of your closed eyes. “Hurts. Hurts, please. Help me, I need it- wanna be full. Hck.” A finger drags along your sweaty hairline and makes you mewl, before it's taken away to be sucked clean.

“Fuck, poor, sweet girl. Smell so good in my bed. And you’re dripping sugar-” The hand comes to your neck, down your collar to your tits, and just the single flick of his finger over your perked, puffy nipple makes your pussy gush, mouth dropping open with moans. Drool drips out of your lips and someone wipes it away, as your eyes flutter against the miserable migraine you’re having. “Such a sweet, pretty little Omega. Little breeding bitch ready to get filled up?”

“Please, please, please!” You’re pushed over onto your back, and your legs drop open in response, back curling off the mattress to get a bit closer to the hand dragging down your belly to your leaking cunny. You’re so tired, your eyes won’t work. Someone hooks your leg around them, and two fingertips trace barely sensible over your folds. “Ah! Ah, ah, ah!”

“I know, I know it hurts. Just appreciating the view.” You wanna look. Your cunt aches like the worst cramps you’ve ever had. It takes everything not to start bawling. Luckily, he takes your hand in his and tangles fingers with yours, while the clicking of metal -a belt- and shuffling happens quick. “There we go, pretty baby. Open up, —daddy’s got you.”

“Ah, ah, quickly, hurry~”

It’s only when a warm palm comes to your cheek that you manage to finally force your eyes open, right when a hot, drooling cockhead pushes at your stretched entrance. Blue, gunmetal eyes stare back at yours as an unfamiliar feeling fills you up top to bottom. Your view is wobbly because of the tears, tongue trapped between your teeth. The face before you doesn’t make sense— not until the hand forces your face to his and a kiss is laid on you.

That taste. And he groans, low, rumbly. “Ohh, there- gh- we fucking go.”

An indescribable feeling of relief washes over you so strong that your legs clamp around him and shove him inside up to the hilt, as the coiled spring pulling in your cunt snaps, you claw at him and cry out. “Ume—miya! Ah, agh- Alpha, d-daddy, thank you, thank you, than-gh uhuhh~”

“Come on my -cock, that’s a good cockslut. Such a tight, little whore.”

Your orgasm barrels through you so hard that your feet cramp and you’re locked around him, moans getting swallowed by his tongue. Your vision goes blotchy and black, and the silver blond above you groans out your name as your pussy swallows him to his balls. “Ughd-daddy, more, more, more please! Please! Cum’ feelsso gud.”

“You’re so cute, so- fuck—ing cute.” He chuckles into a messy kiss, bites your lip for you until the tingling makes your legs shake. You can barely feel where you begin and he ends, with the way he’s gripping your thigh so thigh it’ll bruise, pulling you back against his thrusts. “Polite even when you’re cumming. D’ our little Kaji train you like that? Or is that just- for,” every word is accentuated by his cock hitting an entirely different spot, higher up in your belly, “me?”

You’re not sure you even stopped cumming before he starts rubbing your clit hard and fast, but before you know it you’re feeling an entirely different sensation— wetness squirting out around his cock in forceful gushes and getting all over his hands, his thighs and his bed. “Yeah, yeah yeah cum, just like that. So pretty.” Umemiya actually growls at the sight, slipping the wetness over your raw clit over and over and over. “Perfect little Omega whore— fuck.”

”Knew you’d take it if I offered. Isn’t that right, pet?” He yanks your leg up to put it around his bicep, and the thrusts get deeper and harder when he uses all his body weight to slam into you. The sound is filthy. It echoes the walls, and makes your pussy suction around him like you’re willing him to stay. You are, you want to be bred. You want-

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy, please. Want your cum. You need’t cum- hah- in me. Please, daddy. Please, fucking— I need-.”

He’s smiling so wide it looks a bit deranged. Every lewd pap makes you more mindless, and you’re not sure when you laced your hand in his, but they feel molten together. “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“K-knot, your knot, please. Breed me. I need to be fucked full.”

His laugh is high pitched, a slight bit hysterical before it dies out when staring deep into your eyes. “Does another Alpha’s cock feel that good inside you? Even better?” He’s sucking the taste of your boyfriend off your tongue, before fucking into your puffy, swollen folds with a satisfied hum. You’re floating, as his fingers dig into your tits. As your poor cunt is filled up, stretched in a completely different way.

He fucks in and out, in and out until he pulls out entirely, then forces the swollen head back in with a guttural grunt. “Good enough that you want to get fucked pregnant, fill you up with my kids? Yeah? You want your boyfriend’s bigger brother?”

”Yes, yes yes yes, please. Breed me full, Ume— Hajime! Hajime!”

He angles his hips a little to fold both your legs to your chest, baring teeth. It shifts his cock in you to the spongy spot in you like nothing else did, and has him moaning. “Oh, fuck, little girl. My cock’s reaching your womb, look— right here.” It makes him pant like a dog. Makes his eyes go wide, dipping his forehead to yours. He’s just so much bigger, so much stronger. Alpha in every sense.

“You know,” he chuckles, short before he hisses at the way your cunt squirms around him. “Since you’re Ren’s, you’re also sort of- my- hgh little sister too. Gonna let niichan fuck you ‘til you get bred?” You’re lost to the world as he bounces you up and down and your pussy spills over into the bed. Umemiya doesn’t care. The flush has crept up on his ears, his chest, he’s pink and sweaty to his fingertips and the way they dig into your skin. “Let it take, let it— that’s a good cheating, little cunt- so- pretty. Ask niichan to cum in you.”

“Cum, pl- pleas,” you slur against his mouth, let him get his face all up in yours. Let him nuzzle your cheek aside for purchase on your neck. “Niichan, niichan, nii-”

His cock pulses the last few sloppy thrusts, letting your cervix create a nice little seal around his cockhead— then he grunts. “Ah- that’s it, thatsit- fuck!” His sucking turns into teeth, and then a bite. One that has your entire body shivering, before your legs stretch out around his hips with another orgasm travelling through you. He swells inside you with a moan, and pushes you deep, even deeper onto him.

The weight of his pervic bone rubbing over your clit and his strong, muscular thighs pressing into your own is all you need to ride out another high ‘til you can’t see straight. It all has you wrapping your arms around him in an embrace that has your mouth open, panting and letting drool spill out.

The cum that hits is hot at first, rutting against you like you’re a fucktoy- but it doesn’t stop. There’s so much of it you try to shift, only to have Umemiya bite down harder on the juncture of you neck, until he breaks skin. “Stay,” he grunts, “take it a—ll. Let me fill you up.” Cum that makes you so hot inside, and squelches when he repositions to push more of himself inside, spilling out every which way. His cock is in until the thick base, and has swollen inside so wide you can’t even shift without it aching. “Ugh, so much cum inside that little body.”

Only after a couple minutes of staying that way, him growling into your skin when you try to escape, does he allow himself to pull back and watch the damage. His knot’s not deflated, but he still slowly starts moving out just to watch his cock flop out over your pussy and let the last squirts of hot cum spill over your clit. The ring of creamy white at the base of his cock and the mess he’s made of your raw pussy is nothing of proof like the bruised, mean bite right between your throat and your shoulder.

You’re too fucked out to notice. It’s cute. You’re cute all over. He squeezes his cock as he lets go of your legs and they stay that way, then laughs when trailing kisses down your thigh. “Kaji had a good thing going. I see why he went to bat over you.” Your eyelids flutter when he thumbs your pussy open, and buries his nose into it. His tongue delves into it just to lap up most of the extra cum, then leans over you to push your lips open. You just let him spill the mess of cum and spit and slick into your mouth, swallow it like a good little pet.

“And I don’t just mean your pussy either. I know you’re more than just that. If you weren’t, Togame wouldn’t bitch so much to see you again.” It makes him hum softly, and lay down beside you with a gentle motion to pull you in. Willing or not, you’re gonna snuggle into him a little longer. This is only the first of many days you two will spend like this. “We’re gonna have to make a visit to your old friends one of these days, ‘kay?”

He feels bad about the situation Kaji’s run into by now, beat hard enough to break a few ribs. It’s not enough to kill him, but Togame doesn’t know when to quit. Or rather, he quits only when he’s been told to quit. Your smell feels so nice wrapped around him, watching how you drift into a dreamless sleep with your cunt full of his cum. He could honestly go again, but maybe not right now.

“Niichan’s promised to make a diplomatic little gesture. You get it, right?”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 — ft. rin itoshi/sae itoshi

────────────✧ ˚ · “ ɪ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱᴋ ᴛʜᴇ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴏ ᴀɴxɪᴏᴜꜱ, ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ..

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ.

ɪ. ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — itoshi rin & fem reader (ft. itoshi sae)

ɪɪ. ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ

ɪɪɪ. ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ — nsfw & dark content, dub-con, infidelity, jealousy, heavy angst, foul language, characters are aged up (in their 20's), revenge, & more coming soon

ɪᴠ. ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ — when a family holiday comes around and rin has to face his brother, he’s not surprised to see you, sae’s sweet fiancée, tagging along. what he doesn’t expect, though, is his urges slipping out of control.

ᴠ. ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴅᴇx — coming soon

ᴠɪ. ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴀɢ — ✧˖*°࿐ series: after dark

· ˚ ✧──────── ..ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ, ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ʟᴏꜱᴛ „

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ — open! reply / send ask to be added:

@xatsumuxluvrx , @oo-mi-ru-oo , @hellokittykuroo , @sagejin , @aclownstay , @katasstrophy, @caramelcandescence, @kittysinon137, @xxkaeya , @strawberriesandcream12 , @sqno , @somemydayy

reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

just hit 12k

thank you so much<3<3<3

and sorry for being so quiet these last weeks

so so so so good!!!! :,)

sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Keep reading

fracture v

ran x reader

ran x reader w bonten sprankled in

summary: old friends become enemies. ran shows a bit more of his hand. so does mikey.

cw - drugs, smut, guns, murder, praise, degradation, dub!con, reader is a sex worker w a sick brother. ran likes you!!! likes you a lot!! too much probably, probably far too much. a/n extra long because i made you wait.

minors dni

prev

“Listen,” he says, “Kakucho said this shit to me once, that the only things in life that matter are the things that bring you happiness. I like the girl, so I’m keeping the girl.” A small spark burns in your chest as he speaks. “I like Mcallan 25 so I drink Mcallan 25. I like my  Bentley, I like my penthouse, I like workin’ hard but not too hard. You overcomplicate things,” he wrinkles his nose at the very idea of it. “You,” he says, “Get stuck between duty and happiness, and expectation, which, is a fuckin’ minefield considering our line of work.” Ran shrugs. “Me, I just go with the flow.” The car slows to a stop. “I gotta go have dinner with a beautiful woman and talk a bit about drugs over the best bolognese in the city. Try not to get your panties in an existential twist, maybe try finding some of that bratty pussy you like so much.” 

“Ugh.” Rindou groans. “Call me when you’re done.” 

“I won’t.” Ran grins, reaching for the door. “But you can call me. You can always call me.” Years flash in Rindou’s eyes, Izana, Juvie, their last halcyon days in Roppongi. 

“I know,” Rindou says. “I know I can.” 

Ran hangs up and sighs before wrapping an arm around you, and rubbing your shoulder. He presses his lips together before speaking. 

“This could get rough.” He says quietly and then brightens. “Big day for you, though, huh?” You nod, nuzzling closer to him. “It won’t be like this all the time,” he explains, “But we’ll need to sort out this mess.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you look up at him, “I’m so sorry about your friend.” A muscle in Ran’s jaw tightens, and he nods. 

“I’m alright, sweetheart.” He looks over at Yuuta, “Didja bring it?” Yuuta nods, palming him a box wrapped in white paper. “For you.” Ran grins, and you open it carefully, lifting the object out of tissue paper with reverence. It’s a purple leather holster, so dark it’s nearly black, with a short buckle, clearly meant to be worn around your thigh, and tucked inside is a tiny, adorable silver gun. “It’s a 4.25 Lilliput pistol.” He explains, “And I want you to have it everywhere we go.” You nod. 

“Yes, sir,” you run your fingers over the leather seam, and look up at him, eyes wide, “Thank you.” He shoots you a wolfish smile. 

“You don’t use it without my permission.” He says, and his stern tone flies you back to one of your teachers, nearly ten years ago. “Understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” You repeat. Yuuta looks away, fidgeting as Ran pulls you closer. 

___

“Heard you were in a bit of trouble,” Rodrigo Alfizi shakes Ran’s hand, standing up from his chair at the restaurant. He’s tall but still shorter than Ran, and his dark eyes sparkle in the candlelight of the private dining room. It’s luxe, with soft white tablecloths, adorned with votive candles and lush greenery. The hostess ushered you back here without asking any questions and Ran only drops your hand when Rodrigo offers his. 

“Nothin’ I can’t handle.” Ran pulls out a chair for you, and you sit, delicately dressed in an outfit he chose, hands folded in your lap. “This is my assistant.” Rodrigo nods, reaching a hand out to you. You look to Ran, who nods, and you take it. Rodrigo brings it to his lips and then releases it quickly. 

“I’m afraid my wife was feeling under the weather.” He says, and you see Ran cock his head just the slightest degree. 

“Sorry to hear that.” The two men sit at the table and Ran glances at the menu and answers before the waitress opens her mouth. “We’ll have the Chateau Mouton red blend, and start with the carpaccio.” 

“Yes sir,” she stammers and then looks to Rodrigo, who shrugs. 

“I’ll stick to a negroni,” he smiles, “And the eggplant crostini.” She nods and disappears, and when the door closes he leans forward, leaning on the table. “So, Mr. Haitani,” he says, “I hear I owe you my condolences.” Ran shrugs. 

“Thank you.” He says, and it strikes you how he doesn’t engage in his usual banter, eyes flicking to the closed door. “I wanted to talk to you about the docks.” The other man raises his bushy eyebrows. 

“Yes, you’ve told me that there’s a chance you’d take your business to Sakusa.” Rodrigo leans back in his chair. “I have to say, disappointing to hear, given, of course, our long relationship.” Ran nods. 

“I don’t wanna do it, buddy, but you’re forcing my hand here. We’ve had three shipments lost in the last few months, that’s more than 150K of product.” The waitress comes, holding a bottle of dark red wine. They pause their conversation as she opens it in front of you both, Ran tastes it and then nods to her, she fills both of your glasses and leaves again. 

“Surely,” Rodrigo says, and you hear it now, an edge to his tone. “Surely you’re not willing to throw away years of friendship over a few lost boxes.” Ran shrugs. 

“S’not me, Rodrigo, it’s Koko.” Ran takes a sip of his wine, and you notice that Rodrigo waits to speak until Ran sets the glass back on the table. Ran wipes his mouth delicately, taking his time, measuring the power he still held. “Of course, I’d like to keep you on, but I can’t justify the losses at this point.” There’s another silence, and you feel Ran relax a little. 

“I think I may have a solution,” Rodrigo says, just as the waitress comes in with his cocktail. “I may be able to track a few of those boxes down.” Ran hums, leaning forward and drumming his fingers on the table. “And I could offer you something more valuable, as, let’s say, a token of gratitude.” He brings the cocktail to his lips and Ran hums, it’s a deep, grumbling sound. 

“Whatcha thinkin’,” He says, and you’re struck by how fluid his speech patterns are, how he can go from high falutin and prissy to talking low and dangerous. 

“About that trouble you’ve been having.” Rodrigo says, “I might know something.” Ran sighs, taking another sip of his wine. You bring your glass to your lips and have to stop yourself from reacting. It’s the strangest thing, deep and sweet and rich, grounded in bitterness. Ran notices in his peripherals and rests a hand on your bare thigh. “I heard you had a regrettable loss.” Ran nods. 

“Knew Shion a long time. The service is on Thursday if you’d like to make an appearance.” 

“Of course,” Rodrigo says and he clears his throat before continuing. “I’ve got a lead for you, about the Silver Dragons.” You stiffen next to Ran and he feels it but squeezes your thigh tightly. “You were thinking about Daito Yagami, weren’t you?” Ran’s face remains impassive. “And I assume Mikey might have been wondering if a certain Osanai had any living relatives, and I wonder if Kakucho even remembers Honda Amaya.” Ran withdraws his hand from you. “You’ve been in the game a long time,” Rodrigo says, and you swear the room drops two degrees in temperature. You watch Ran’s hand fly to the waistband of his pants. “You’ve all left a trail of bodies in your wake, and you thought the day would never come where you’d have to answer to that?” He leans forward, but Ran doesn’t back down. “All men must answer for their sins.” 

“Is this the part where you monologue and feel self-righteous?” Ran says, hand flicking the safety off on his gun and you swallow nervously, mentally calculating how fast you could run, how far away Isami and Yuuta were outside. “Because I’ll skip to the part where I put a bullet in your head.” Rodrigo balks, and Ran puts the gun on the table, eyes narrowed. “You wanna fuck me over, Rodrigo Alfizi?” Ran says. “Go ahead.” 

“Easy,” Rodrigo purrs attempting to regain his composure, “Easy, Haitani. You know I’m not dirty, or you wouldn’t have shown up here. I’m just providing you with,” he trails off, thinking, you can see the flicker of the votives in his dark eyes, “Information.” Ran doesn’t frown, but the slight downturn of one corner of his mouth is enough. He squeezes your thigh and stands. 

“I won’t be played with.” His tone is short and clipped. “Come on.” You stand, pushing your chair in. 

“Wait,” Rodrigo sputters, “You don’t-” 

“Did you consider,” Ran says, whirling around, one hand on your wrist, “That we came here because we knew you were dirty?” There’s a silence, you can hear the clang of pots and pans in the kitchen nearby. “And I was offering you one last chance?” 

“I’m not-” Rodrigo starts, but Ran doesn’t let him speak.

“Did you consider?” Ran says, tone frigid, “That I’m a dangerous fucking man, Rodrigo Alfizzi?” 

“Of course I did,” Rodrigo’s eyes narrowed, “Which is why I’d never cross you.” Ran doesn’t move. “I’ll, I can give up my contact.” He says, shoulders slumping a little. “If you won’t go to Sakusa.” 

“We’re already going to Sakusa,” Ran snaps, “You lost 150K of product, even if it was a genuine mistake which,” Ran shakes his head, “You’re far too smart to think I buy that bullshit. You’ve been skimming off the top for years, but this time you took it too far, so we’re going to Sakusa.” A vein in Rodrigo’s forehead pulses. “Give me your contact and I won’t have my men kill your fucking family.” He drops your hand and takes a back towards the table. Rodrigo looks frozen, your own hands are trembling in a way you hope isn’t visible. “I know where your wife gets her nails done,” Ran says, eyes narrowed, “I know which window in your apartment your son sleeps underneath. You’ll give me the contacts.” A bead of sweat rolls down Rodrigo’s face. “Coulda played nice,” Ran coos, which is somehow more terrifying than his anger. “Coulda had a nice dinner, but you decided to push me. Was that smart?” Ran takes another step forward, Rodrigo is looking anywhere but at him. “I said, was that fucking smart?” He darts around the table when Rodrigo doesn’t respond and the other man speaks quickly.

“No, sir.” Rodrigo manages, and Ran breaks into a wide smile, drawing his weapon and whipping it across the man's face, blood spurting into the white tablecloth. 

“What was that?” Ran repeats, still sounding like a teacher reprimanding a child. 

“I said,” Rodrigo doesn’t look up, his voice small and broken, “No sir.” 

“This isn’t fucking amateur hour.” Rans's eyes darken. “There is one fucking way you walk outta here with a heartbeat, and it’s if you give up who you’re working with.” Rodrigo is sweating, you can see it glistening on his cheeks in the candlelight. Your heart thrums in your chest. “I just wanted to have one normal night out with my girl,” Ran sighs. “Sorry, sweetheart, that daddy’s friends don’t have any manners.” 

“That’s alright.” You chirp, you’re settling into a strange cool calm as if you’re far away from your body. Ran can handle this. Ran can handle anything. You know he can. “I can go outside and get Isami and Yuuta?” You offer.

“Nah,” Ran shrugs, smiling widely, lips pulled back over sharp teeth, and he shoots the gun, the silencer doing little to help with the immediate popping sound, the bullet entering Rodrigo’s shoulder, blood spatters on the tablecloth. “We got what, three minutes before your men get here?” Ran says, as Rodrigo swears violently, “‘Cept, are they coming? Because,” he shoots him again, this time in the thigh, blood staining the man's white shirt, “Maybe I got to ‘em first.” 

“Fuck you,” Rodrigo spits some blood on the floor, “I’m not saying shit.” Ran sighs deeply, cocking the gun again. “You’re all fucked,” he spits again, “Bonten is over, you just don’t realize it yet.” 

“Do I look over ?” Ran snarls, and in one short movement, he shoves the table over, wine staining the white carpet, glasses shattering. “I’m not fucking around,” he moves so quickly you’re not entirely sure you even saw him go, but when you blink he’s got the barrel of his gun pressed to Rodrigo’s forehead. “150K of missing product and you think I came here without backup? Without suspicion?” 

“You-” Rodrigo is struggling to breathe at this point, frozen, his eyes flick to you, “You brought your-” 

“She can handle herself,” Ran says, and his tone cuts like a knife. “Don’t you even fuckin’ look at her, you goddamn coward. Jesus Christ,” he presses the barrel harder, “Tell me. You’re gonna tell me right fucking now.” You hear movement, a crash in the hallway, but Ran ignores it. “Tell me who’s coming for us,” the noises get louder, and you hear Yuuta shout. Ran leans forward, “You think I won’t kill you,” he hisses, “You think I would hesitate to get your brains all over this pretty white room, but I don’t give a shit .” There’s another moment, and you hear Rodrigo choke out a sob, you stand up as he says, 

“It’s, it’s not just,” the tears fall from his eyes, “Please, don’t fucking shoot me, Haitani, I, if I give them up they’ll-” 

“I will sleep so fucking well tonight,” Ran says, ice cold, fully calm. “I don’t care what happens to you.” 

“I, it’s not just Yagami,” He says, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, “It’s, it’s all of them-” The doors burst open and you let out a gasp of pain as Yuuta plucks you up off the ground and throws you over his shoulder. 

“We gotta go,” He says, and Ran sighs. “Car’s out back.” 

“Fine.” Ran shoots Rodrigo one more time, in the opposite shoulder and this time the man yells. Yuuta turns on his heels and in the hallway you watch Isami’s hand collide with a man’s face, his blood flecking the white walls of the restaurant, and nonsensically your mind flies to the thousand-dollar bottle of wine that was now pooling on the carpet. The three of you leave quickly out the back, Isami following, you leap into the car and the tires squeal as Isami drives off. Yuuta hands you immediately to Ran, who fumbles with his Juul, angrily taking a puff, and yanking you half into his lap. 

“Fuckin’ liked that restaurant.” He grumbles, annoyed. He tosses the Juul in a cupholder as the car speeds through the city. His phone rings in his pocket. He answers without a greeting. 

“Alfizzi’s fuckin’ dirty, have Koko officially move us to Sakusa.” 

“Shit,” you hear Rindou’s voice on the other end of the phone. “What the hell happened?” Ran digs his fingers into your hip. 

“Weirdest fuckin’ thing, he essentially confessed,” Ran says, shaking his head, “Dangled information in front of me like I wouldn’t shoot him in his own goddamn restaurant for crossing me.” He rolls his eyes. 

“You shot him in his own-” 

“We got out already.” Ran says quickly, “I’ll lay low for a bit but he’s not stupid enough to go to the cops,” he holds you tightly, “You at the offices?” 

“Yeah,” Rin says, “Hold on, Mikey and Sanzu are still here.” You hear some muffled movement on the end and the click of the phone being put on speaker. “Alfizzi crossed us,” Rindou explains, bursting into the room where Mikey and Sanzu are working, or more accurately, Mikey is clicking through emails and Sanzu is napping on the couch. 

“Oh shit?” Sanzu rubs his eyes. 

“Ran got out,” Rindou explains, “But he said Alfizzi’s in bed with the Silver Dragons.” You tug Ran’s sleeve in the limo, having something to tell him, but he brushes you off. 

“Yeah,” Ran jumps in, “He brought up uh,” Ran hesitates, and you see an emotion you’re unfamiliar with cross his face. “He brought up Osanai. And Honda Amaya, and uh, Yagami of course.” 

“Haitani,” You can picture Mikey frowning. “Did you have to make a scene?” Ran rolls his eyes in the car, squeezing you affectionately. 

“In this case, I actually minimized the damage boss,” He shrugs, taking another puff of his Juul, “My fault for not just putting a bullet in his head the second I thought he’d turned on us a few months ago.” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of restraint,” Mikey says dryly, and Ran laughs, you look down at the red spots on your dress, unsure if they’re blood or wine. 

“I’ve got a girl to come home to now,” Ran quips, “I’m a changed man.” You hear a rush of static on the other end of the phone. “You want me to come by?” 

“No.” Mikey stares out the window. “No, go to bed. We can talk tomorrow.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Ran says, and Mikey hangs up. Ran turns his attention back to you, tugging your soft body into his lap protectively. “You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “But you weren’t afraid there, were you?” You look up at him, twisting in his arms to meet his cool gaze. 

“No, sir.” You whisper. 

“Why’s that?” He says, hand settling on your hip, as always he touches you with little regard for the other men in the car. You think about your answer, before taking his free hand in both of yours, and bringing it to your chest like a child might hold a security blanket. 

“As long as you’re here,” you hold his gaze, “I know I don’t have to be afraid.” Surprise breaks over him for a moment before it melts into a smirk and he leans down and kisses your forehead. 

“That’s my girl.” His hand slips from your waist to push your skirt up, and your breath hitches in your throat, was he about to touch you in front of his men, did he want- your thoughts are cut off when you realize he’s touching the gun strapped to your thigh. “Safety’s still on.” 

“You said to ask permission before using it.” You answer, feeling Yuuta’s eyes on your back. 

“I did.” He shrugs, withdrawing his hand. “Just surprised you listened, since you grabbed Rin’s gun.” A thought bubbles to the surface of your mind, but you don’t speak it. Ran reads the hesitation on your face. “You can say it, sweetheart.” 

“I, I don’t belong to Rindou.” You say softly, so quietly it’s almost lost in the hum of the engine. Ran chuckles darkly. 

“No. No, you don’t.” 

_________

The next few days are calmer, you don’t have any missions or any work at all. You tail Ran at the office, doing your best to be invisible. He doesn’t let you stray far, he keeps you close whenever possible, tucking you against his chest when Sanzu’s eyes linger on your body, when Kokonoi scowls in your general direction. You spend the nights in his bed, and that’s where you are when you can sense his mind drifting far away from you. You scoot up on his chest, twisting your body in a way you haven’t been able to since you met him for the first time, feeling only a morsel of the previous pain that would have accompanied such a movement. 

“I,” He starts, rubbing circles in your back. “I like having you here.” You hum softly, holding onto him tightly. “Sit up for me.” He pats his thighs and you straddle him obediently, “Pretty girl,” he coos, reaching up and cupping your face, and you nuzzle against his hand affectionately. 

“I like being here.” You whisper, and he pulls you down, crushing you against his chest, “Thank you.” He hums. 

“You feeling better?” He asks, and you nod. “Good ‘cause uh, Mikey’s insisting you learn how to fight.” You stiffen against him, eyes wide. “Yeah, it’s par for the course. I know you’re a good shot,” he pats your back, “But uh, I don’t like it. I got overruled.” 

“Oh.” You whisper. 

“Rin’s gonna be real gentle with you,” Ran grumbles, “Or I’m gonna kick his fuckin’ ass.” 

He shakes his head. You realize this is an admission of sorts, that he seems more present after sharing it. That worries your physical safety was enough to keep him awake. 

“You want me to get you a pill,” you offer, and he nods, kissing your cheek. 

“You take one too.” You reach into his nightstand and brush past his loaded Glock, taking 

two purple pills, placing one of them in Ran’s mouth, and the other on your own tongue. He pulls you down again, and rolls half on top of you, burying his face in your neck. 

“Hate it when they look at you.” He mutters. “I fuckin’ hate it. You’re so goddamn lucky we didn’t meet while you were working, I’d have killed everyone else scheduled to see you that day.” You shiver, and he ignores it. 

“Daddy,” you whisper, and fuck, your soft little voice in the darkness drives him insane. “I, I wouldn’t want you to hurt anyone on my behalf, and I know it’s not my choice and you’ll do what you want, I know.” He nods, half opening his eyes to look down at you. “But I don’t, if it’s ever up to me, I don’t want you to.” 

“Okay,” he breathes, “Okay, baby.” He squeezes you. “Okay.” 

____

“I,” you swallow, even though he’s shorter than Ran, Rindou towers over you, eyes narrowed and impatient. “Are you sure this is necessary?” He nods, a single tendril of purple hair flopping from his headband onto his forehead as he crouches into a fighting stance. You’re at a gym that Bonten owns, and you’d assumed you’d be able to stretch, maybe run on a treadmill, but Rindou had immediately ferried you right to a back room with a mat on the ground. 

“You need to learn how to fight for your own good.” He says. “If you’re not gonna listen to me when I tell you to run,” you bite back your response, that he didn’t in fact, tell you to run. “If you’re gonna be reckless you gotta learn to handle shit.” You nod. Your hair is tied away from your face, and for the first time in days, you can stand without pain. 

“O-okay, am I, am I standing right?” You ask, and he softens a little, moving to correct your stance. His hands only briefly brush your hips. Sanzu and Mikey are in the corner, Mikey’s stretching and Sanzu’s curling a barbell, but you feel like you have their attention. 

“So if I swing at you,” Rindou says, “What are you going to do?” You press your lips together. 

“Um, duck?” 

“Sure.” He nods. “Let’s try it.” He swings a fist at you slowly, and you drop down underneath his hand before your heart breaks into a sprint and instinct overrides you. You spring up, pushing off the ground and punching Rindou under the chin with a hard uppercut. He looks at you, shocked, for just a second, before the life leaves his eyes and he crumples to the floor. 

“Oh god!” You cry out, and immediately Sanzu and Mikey are at your side, Mikey pulls you backward and Sanzu kneels and presses his fingers to the side of Rindou’s neck. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just instinct took over, I-” Sanzu cuts you off with a high-pitched cackle.

“Have you ever been in a fight,” Mikey says, turning to you, his grip on your arm iron. He watches you swallow and fidget. 

“I, I, my dad went to jail and it was, it was in the news I, people, um, they tried to, tried to say things to my brother about it, they'd um, they’d find me at recess but it’s been years, I, god Rindou I’m so sorry,” Rindou struggles to a seated position. “Sorry, sorry, sorry-” Sanzu snorts. 

“Nah,” He grins, his scars rippling around his mouth. “Nah, C’mon, get up Rin.” 

“Fuck off.” Rindou snarls, pushing to his feet. “I was going easy on you.” 

“I, I know,” you stammer, “I’m, I’m sure, I’m sorry, I-” 

“Stop apologizing.” Mikey snaps, and your mouth shuts. “Like this.” Mikey adjusts your stance. “Rindou, back off.” 

“I can-” Rindou starts and Mikey scowls. Rindou matches his expression but flashes his palms and steps away. 

“You won’t be able to hit me,” Mikey says quietly. “Let’s try this.” He moves in front of you on the mat, and sees your hands shaking. “You won’t, you won’t be able to.” You nod, still unsure. You take a deep breath, and Rindou and Sanzu watch, equally trepidatious. 

“Ran’s gonna blow his lid if anyone lays a hand on her,” Rindou mutters. “Even if it’s Mikey.” 

“He didn’t say shit to me,” Sanzu says, smirking, and Rindou’s fist clenches in his pocket. “Course, how could he? And he won’t say shit to Mikey either.” Rindou rubs his sore jaw. “Because he knows his place, and you do too.” Rindou doesn’t respond, watching the way you square your hips, leaning onto your heels. 

“Hit me,” Mikey says quietly. “Go ahead.”  You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and instinct overtakes you once more, you reach one hand out like lightning, and for a millisecond Mikey’s not sure if he’ll be able to block it, for a fraction of a breath he wonders if he’ll let you hit him, wonders if he wants to feel the pain you could cause him before he knocks your hand away effortlessly. Your jaw sets, you knew it, knew you couldn’t be that good. “Interesting.” He says softly, glancing at Sanzu across the room, and you see the scarred man break into a wide smile, blue eyes practically glowing in the shadow of his brow. “Again,” Mikey says, and the two of you square up, sparring for the better part of an hour, before your chest is heaving and your thighs start to ache. He seems unphased, if you didn’t know better you’d swear the corners of his mouth turn up in almost, amusement. Rindou takes his phone out. 

Rindou: your bitch packs a punch

Ran: not my sweet little baby

Rindou: your sweet little baby practically dislocated my jaw Ran: LMFAO NO FUCKEN WAY

Ran: god thats hot 

Rindou: yeah well you know who else thinks its hot? Mikey. 

Ran: ….

Rindou: they’ve been sparring for almost an hour, she looks like she’s about to collapse. 

Ran: well fucking say something she’s still recovering Ran: or should I come down there, if you can’t handle it? Rindou: I can! I can handle it. It’s not about what I can  handle. 

Ran: if Mikey wants her he’ll take her and then lose her like he loses his keys. She’ll be back in my bed in a week, I’m not concerned. 

Ran: she knows what’s good for her. 

Rindou: She asked me on the way over here when she can see her brother

Ran: shit yeah

Ran: I wanna take her but Mikey doesn’t want any of us leaving town. 

Rindou: can you send her with Isami and Yuuta?

Ran: yeah if I wanted them both dead lmfao i could do that 

Ran: she’ll wait. I’ve got a surprise for her, anyway. She’s gonna be tired yeah? 

Rindou: If she doesn’t sleep the whole way home I’ll be shocked. 

Ran: that’s a good girl. 

While everyone showers up, Sanzu takes out his phone, standing in just a white fluffy towel in the mens locker room. Sanzu: yo hakkai

unknown number: what the hell do you want 

unknown number: I thought I told you if I ever saw you again you'd be dead. 

sanzu: I need a favor

unknown number: fuck straight off 

sanzu: better turn that frown upside down

sanzu: unless you want everyone to know what I know. 

the story you reblogged said weiterlesen so i was like wait a damn minute and did the math, i feel mad stalkerish now 😩

this might be really weird but are you by any chance german ? 🥺im sorry if this is a weird question

Yepp I'm german😋 How did you know?🤔

"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

┌─ “ ! „ 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.

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

Loved it so much 🥺 👑

Lineage (M)

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 6.7K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

Warnings:  HEAVY yandere themes, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, dubcon smut (reader is a virgin, fingering, unprotected sex), 18+, explicit language

A/N: Part 1 of Lineage! Took 3 months, a messy outline, and 2 drafts that I decided I hated halfway through writing and deleted before starting over to finish one part. Tags of people who replied to the preview will be added in a reblog. Thank you for everyone who has been waiting and has shown support for the preview of Lineage and my writing account overall! This is inspired by the multitude of Korean webnovels I’ve been reading during quarantine. If you like it, please leave a comment because I will cry out of joy and this took me a WHILE to get out of the drafts. Enjoy!

‘‘Duke,’’ the king’s teeth chattered in terror as he spoke, his voice low. “What have you come to visit me for?”

Yoongi closed his eyes briefly as if he was in thought. Normally, he’d be furious at the lack of efficiency, but something stopped him from simply slicing the fool’s head off with his sword. After all, there was a much more important matter at hand that he needed to deal with.

‘‘My king, you do,’’ Yoongi spoke slowly,’’ remember our deal, don’t you? I win the war against the bordering kingdom and give you a considerable sum, and you…’’

Yoongi directed a pointed look at the king, and the king flinched before hurrying over to his desk. He fumbled around with the papers on it, even knocking down a stack of sealed and stamped documents with his shaking elbows, before extracting a small silver-framed portrait.

Yoongi could see the tremor in the man’s hands as he handed him the portrait, but Yoongi only exhaled softly, almost as if he was relieved, as he took hold of the small painted picture.

Pretty long-lashed eyes that warmly sparkled despite paint being the only medium used, curved lips like budding flowers, and silky tresses that swooped past her delicate shoulders. The maiden etched into the canvas was not known as a beauty compared to her extravagantly dressed older sisters, but to Yoongi, she was worth much more than the other princesses combined. Yoongi gripped the portrait a little tighter, his hands slightly clammy.

‘‘You wanted the 8th princess, Princess [Y/N], as your bride,’’ the ruler before him sputtered. “As soon as you’re ready, I will have the engagement officially announced.”

Yoongi broke out of his reverie and tucked the portrait into the pocket of his coat before getting up from his seat. ‘’Thank you, my King. I will never forget the kindness you have bestowed upon the House of Min.’’

As Yoongi was about to open the door, the king called out once again.

‘‘Duke Min, if I may ask, why do you have so much interest in the 8th princess? I would have never thought she would suit your preferences. If you wanted, you could have the crown princess. Her beauty is known even in distant lands, and she is skilled—”

Yoongi coldly smiled at the pathetically shivering man, interrupting him sharply,’’ Do not interfere in personal matters, my King. Long live the Sun of the Kingdom.’’

The door clicked shut behind him, and the king sagged further into his extravagantly plush ruby couch. For the first time in his greedy life, the king truly felt sympathy for the young princess he had just sold to the notoriously named Duke of Hell.

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