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[venusxstars]

STILL WITH YOU ★

pairing: michael kaiser x gn reader suggestive + ex fwb to lovers + hurt/comfort (3.9k words)

a/n: i love kaiser but this was horrible to go through so i will never even think of writing for him again. thank you so much to mitzi (user mitsies) for helping me with this fic i love you to death you are the absolute sweetest !!!!!!!! <3 if there are mistakes just … ignore … im tired of this fic :sob:

alexis ness is an asshole.

you don’t know him personally, but given how he stood you up on the first date — which was, in all honesty, more humiliating than infuriating — that much could already be established.

“trouble in paradise?”

there’s a headache pulsing behind your eyes and through your temple, but whether it stems from your current predicament or the four shots of vodka you’ve downed is beyond you. though, when you think of it now, you’re pretty sure the answer doesn’t lie within those two options, but instead, on the guy next to you.

“not now, kaiser,” you warn, shooting him a glare for added emphasis, which he deflects with a cocky smile that soon turns into a faux pout.

“come on sweetheart,” he whines. “it’d be a shame to leave you all alone now, don’t you think?”

you tell him no in a heartbeat; without any hesitation, your conviction unwavering — and he deems you as a liar; that you answered far too quickly for it to be true. so like a complete fool, he goes, sorry? as if you’d change your mind in the span of twelve seconds.

“no,” you reiterate. “i don’t think so.”

casually, and almost too effortlessly, he moves his seat closer to yours, swiftly dragging the stool’s metal legs against ceramic tiles until he’s only an inch away from you. “really?” he drawls.

now, kaiser’s not usually one for staring; he thinks it’s unattractive for anyone to be so blatantly obvious with their intentions. at the same time, though, he can’t control the way his eyes bore into your figure; the curve of your waist, the slope of your nose— that damn outfit you’ve got on; so dangerously revealing yet somehow modest enough to leave plenty of room for anyone’s imagination to wander.

fuck, he thinks. all this for someone else?

the prospect of you being with a man other than him has kaiser losing all sense of rationality. “let me buy you a drink at least,” he offers; a calculated suggestion to keep his cool, even though his fist is balled and clenching into the fabric of his pants.

for a brief moment, you consider. if you played your cards right, he might even pick up the rest of your tab — but the last thing you need is to fall into his trap once more.

you wonder how many times he’s done this; how many strangers he’s tried to woo with his charms; how many times he’s managed to succeed, but those thoughts are dismissed just as quickly as they were conjured. because really, it’s none of your business anymore, not after he’s made it very clear to you — drew the line in bold, brutal ink — where you stood in his life.

“no thanks. i’ve had enough to drink,” you decide, unsure whether it’s for the entire night or just right now, but regardless of the answer, you need to get out of here — get far away from him before the alcohol catches up to your system and rewires your brain to go along with whatever plan he has.

“enough for you to come back to me?”

“i’m not coming back to you.”

kaiser places a hand over his chest, clutching at his shirt theatrically as if your words amounted to being struck by lightning. though, for someone as dramatic as him, it doesn't come to you as a surprise anymore; just another one of his antics to roll your eyes at.

“you pain me, liebling," he remarks.

“don’t call me that,” you respond sharply.

and it’s so resentful, the way the sentence slips past your lips, like you’re still bitter and seething with rancor; like you still haven’t managed to wash away the remnants of your past relationship—arrangement, with him, even after all this time.

it’s fucking humiliating, but it’s true. you have never known kaiser the way you thought you did, and you will never have him the way you wish you could.

unfortunately for you, he’s oblivious to the way your mood sours. “but you are my darling,” he drawls, grinning at how you’ve gone quiet, chalking your silence up to some sort of compliance. and so he keeps on prodding; keeps on poking at you until you’re patience wears thin and the thread snaps.

"shut up."

“i’m just saying—”

“kaiser,” you interject, every trace of tolerance now drained from your body. “stop it. i’m serious.”

"i just want to talk,” he explains, smile falling then, voice lowering to a serious note when he now catches the expression on your face; eyebrows knitted as you will yourself to maintain your composure. you’re on the verge of blowing up, and while you wouldn’t mind unloading the burden on him, you don’t want to do it here — not in public. that’s too shameless.

"i don't care about what you want."

“i’m sorry, really. let’s talk, okay? please.”

the shooting pain of your headache increases tenfold at his determination. with how persistent he’s being, you might assume he loves you — that he wants you — but you know better than to think you have any control over him, and you’re sick of this twisted game of tug of war he’s trying to play.

without another word, you stand up — grab whatever you can that you think belongs to you, and motion for the bartender to accept a wad of cash that carries far too many bills for just four shots of liquor.

whatever, it’s fine. they might have needed it more than you did, but what you need right now is to leave.

kaiser, unyielding as ever, doesn’t fail to trail behind, keeping his steps at a careful distance so as not to further upset you. he observes the way you stumble as you make your way out the exit, and takes it upon himself to look after you — not that he has any right, but he can’t leave you alone in this state now, can he?

not like he ever had any plan on doing so.

“you’re drunk,” he points out, arms folded against his chest as he watches you hunch over a potted plant. it’s surprising how you managed to go this far into the night without toppling over, really; you’ve always been a lightweight.

and kaiser knows that. he knows so much more than just that, actually. from the soft whines you let out, breathy and desperate, as you claw at him to give you more, to the way your face falls flat in disappointment every time he tells you he can’t spend the night.

which is horrible, in all honesty — the recollection of his actions is far too cruel even for him. there are times kaiser feels the stinging impact of his words; their weight settling on his shoulders, anchoring and rooting him in guilt.

and he knows he’s an asshole; that much is obvious. but he also knows that he could never be just a stranger to you, and no matter how selfish it makes him seem to seize the sliver of opportunity that knowledge presents him, he’ll take it anyway.

“you’re drunk, liebling.”

you whip your head around to glare at him. “no shit,” you say, steadying yourself on your feet before turning to walk away, steps brisk with impatience. “and stop calling me that.”

once again, he follows. only this time, right next to you, mirroring your movements to make sure you don’t fall face flat on the concrete pavement. his presence is a bother in itself, but you don’t have it in you to push him away anymore; not when you’re exerting what little sobriety you have left on keeping your eyes open.

“i’m taking you home.”

“i’d rather get hit by a truck.”

“i’m serious, liebling,” he says, completely ignoring your prior request. not that you expected any different from him. “it’s dangerous at night.”

“shut up. i’m not—” you trip over your words. “—not in the mood.”

“it’s not safe.”

you want to tell him that he’s not safe for you either, but ultimately choose to hold back. you allow the words to die on the tip of your tongue, because you don’t need to make a fool out of yourself more than you already have. admitting that he still has some sort of reign over you might just be tantamount to death, and you’re about to feed into his egoistic, narcissistic, emperor role play.

“go to hell,” you spit.

he rolls his eyes. “stop being difficult.”

“stop being a pain in the ass.”

kaiser grits his teeth, now firm in his resolution that, at this point, there’s only one way to deal with your obstinacy. in a singular sweeping motion, he captures you in an embrace, throwing you over his left shoulder and keeping you there with a strong, steady arm despite your multiple protests for him to put you down.

because he is not going to put you down — not when you’re being so goddamn careless; not when you’re inebriated and on the verge of passing out somewhere on the streets. have you always been this stubborn?

“let me go!”

“quiet.”

“kais—fuck you!” you writhe in his grasp, throwing a few weak punches at him from behind, eventually giving up when you realize they only encourage him.

when he feels you go slack, he knows you’ve finally surrendered, which is enough to coax a triumphant smile to adorn his face.

“you’re the worst,” you murmur.

and he laughs, because god, he knows.

“angel love, i need your keys.”

“side pocket.”

“huh?”

“my bag, you fucking idiot.”

kaiser huffs, playful irritation evident in his demeanor. “so rude, my dear,” he says, reaching inside your purse, fingers searching for the familiar shape of metal amidst its contents before slotting the right one inside the door lock. it opens with a click, and kaiser, still carrying you on his shoulder, weaves his way through your apartment unit with ease, because he's been here before — far too many times for both of you to count — so he knows the quickest route to your bedroom.

"put me down!” you demand.

"soon."

"soon?!"

carefully, he lowers you into the bed. "yes, soon," he says. "now, actually." it's accompanied with a laugh, soft and light, and you can't help the way your heart flutters at the sound. part of you is convinced it's only because you're drunk. the other, bigger part, however, knows that it's because it belongs to him.

when you sink into the mattress, for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe. you slip your eyes shut in hopes to call it a day, but kaiser makes it impossible for you to remain in that fleeting moment of tranquility.

“we need to talk,” he says, planting himself down next to you.

“tomorrow,” you tell him, even though you have no intention of carrying it out.

he’s persistent, though, and knows it’s an excuse; a momentary escape from the present. “no, liebling. we need to talk about it now.”

you sit up, disgruntled; your back now resting against the headboard, legs folded. it feels odd, in all honesty, to have kaiser look so earnest when he tells you this. it makes you feel vulnerable—exposed, which says a lot, because he’s stripped you of every article of clothing in the past. several times, by the way.

“there’s nothing to talk about.”

“there is everything to talk about, love.”

“i told you to stop calling me that.”

“you said to stop calling you liebling,” he rebuts, wearing a cheeky grin. “not that i will, but you deserve a break from time to time.”

you hate it, the way he speaks to you so casually — so familiar, like he didn't break your heart months ago; as if you weren't just acquaintances, but friends.

everything is too much right now.

it’s too much — too fucking much.

and perhaps, it’s just the alcohol invading your senses; wholly responsible for turning you into an emotional wreckage and rendering you speechless. that’s plausible enough of a reason.

“y/n?” he calls out upon noticing how you've gone quiet.

or maybe it’s kaiser. kaiser, who has consumed you whole; infiltrated you body, mind, and soul — dipped into your life and remained even after he left. kaiser, with his ocean blue eyes, poisonous and beautiful all at once; a pandora box you should have never opened.

it’s impossible to orbit around him without falling a little bit in love — you knew this. you just didn’t reckon it would stay that way forever.

“y/n? are you—”

“you said it was just sex.”

the air around you stills.

“you said it would never be more than sex,” you tell him; half angry, and half ashamed for letting yourself get carried away by emotion. “what right do you think you have to come back for me now?"

a note of silence.

kaiser digests your words, allowing them to sink in — what they entail, where they'll lead him, what this means for the both of you — and swallows the lump building in his throat to prevent it from devouring him whole. this was surprising yet expected, to say the least. he'd ran through his head countless times the list of things he'd confess if given the chance, but now that he's right in front of you, he has no clue on what to say.

honesty and an egoist, what a terrible combination. it's a collision of feelings, a clash of treacherous emotion and a perpetual, confrontational turmoil with arrogance — all of which only lead to inevitable destruction.

it had never been his strong suit.

because for kaiser, to be honest meant to be bare; to allow himself to become susceptible to danger. to him, honesty and vulnerability were akin to death. it was like laying himself down on a surgical table and handing over the scalpel to a stranger. a stranger, who could always change their mind and take a stab at him instead.

and he has always been conceited; pompous and overbearing, haughty and condescending — so love was never meant to be in the equation, and he had never thought it would exist to him. but there's been a ringing in his ear since he left you, and an unusual prickliness buzzing in the air, imploring him to do something, which was easy to overlook at first, but soon became difficult to ignore.

so the days passed by with dormant yearning, and ended with his thoughts cycling back to you like clockwork, which he didn’t understand at all, because it was never meant to escalate past a physical relationship, anyway, and he figured it was unavoidable to part ways with you; that it was for the best. but there was an ache that settled in his chest; brooding and poking, until it hit him one night, like a punch in the gut, that it wasn’t just lust when it came to you, but love.

kaiser had arrived at two conclusions that day.

number one, that he had been in love.

and number two, that he was still in love.

dragging him back to the present, thought, he is struck with another — that he can no longer keep this love to himself. in the confines of your apartment; the sanctuary of his nighttime rendezvous and surreptitious escapades with you, kaiser feels the dam break. he feels all the repression, all the emotion he's shoved into the deepest recesses of his mind, let loose and break free from the chains of restriction.

it's wholly terrifying. there's an invasive worry within him that urges him to stop while he still can; to retreat before everything crumbles apart and leaves him in the rubble, but everything starts with denial, and everything ends with acceptance — this is his.

everything he's pushed in the back of his mind now lays on the tip of his tongue, aching for sweet release, begging for liberation, and this time, he allows it to happen.

"i don't have any right," kaiser tells you, honest. and then pauses to take a deep breath, trying to sort out his thoughts and gather his emotions; to compose himself, because his heart is racing and he doesn't think he's ever been this nervous before.

finally, in a low whisper, he continues.

"everything about me should've pointed at you to stay away. i know i don't deserve it; to love is one thing, but to be loved is another — for someone like me, with this much insolence and pride, i know i don't deserve any of them, but i can't stop myself from loving you, and i'm sick of trying to pretend otherwise."

it feels foreign on his tongue, the word love; it's so strange, so heavy and unfamiliar, but it's the truth — he had loved you. he still does, and if you allow him to, he'll keep it that way forever.

but you can't find it in yourself to put any faith in his words. not yet. it's still too much. "no—no. you're lying. i don't—i can't believe you. you're lying."

"liebling, i promise you—"

"don't promise me shit!"

"—i am many things, but i'm not a liar."

"do you think i'm going to believe you?! do you think i can?! after everything you've done to me? you put me through hell, kaiser! i loved you, and you put me through hell!" more than angry, you feel defeated; like you've been put through the wringer and lost all the fight left in you.

"it's not—"

"you don't get to speak yet!" you let out an aborted sound of frustration. everything you had tried to bury just clawed their way out from six feet underground and shrouded you in anger. it wasn't even the alcohol talking anymore, you were sure of it. "i knew — god, i knew it was always just sex to you, but it was everything to me, and i allowed it to happen. i let you ruin me because i knew it was the closest thing i'd get to having you, and you still hurt me. and now you want to tell me that you love me?!"

"i do love you!" he says miserably. "i know it's hard to believe—"

"it's impossible to."

"let me fix things, please. i'll fix it. i'll fix us."

"there was never an us!"

kaiser smiles wryly, his heart on his sleeve. everything unspoken shines in his eyes; you want to refuse it, but it's so undeniable that you can't. "please give me one more chance, liebling. i promise, if you do, i'll never break us again."

"you told me you could never love me."

"i was wrong."

"you said you didn't need me anymore."

"i do. more than anything else, i need you."

"you broke me, kaiser."

“i know,” he says, taking your hand into his own, because you aren’t looking at him, and he needs you to look at him. “and i’m sorry. i'm so fucking sorry; for hurting you and taking too long to realize that i love you. but i do, i really do, and i’m here now. if you let me fix things, i'll show you that it could never be anything but love.”

“though—” he places a gentle kiss on the heel of your palm, eyes slipping shut like a prayer before unveiling to look at you once more. “—if you’re not ready, i can wait for as long as you need.”

you know it’s a promise; hear it in the way he says it with so much sincerity that it breaks you, see it in the way he gazes at you, sanguine and rueful — it’s so unlike kaiser — you don’t recall ever having witnessed this side of him, and you’re not sure what to think of it just yet. so for a long moment, you stay silent, motionless as you feel your heart hammer in your chest — and then you start to cry.

an abrupt fear slashes at him then. he reaches for your face, letting his slender fingers run along the apple of your cheek before wiping away a tear with his thumb. your cheeks, already flushed from the alcohol, grow patchy and streaky with your crying. a whirlpool opens in his stomach, a pit of guilt widening as you lurch into his hands.

“i'm sorry. please, i didn't mean to upset you.”

“you said—” you hiccup, sobbing uncontrollably, rendering kaiser’s pathetic attempt at damage control useless. “—you said it was just sex."

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” he tries calming you down, smoothing the back of your shirt with a gentle hand as if he was trying to work all the worry, all the ache, out from under your skin, internally sighing when your breaths start to even. “i’m sorry. forgive me. it’s all love now. i promise. i love you.”

you choke out, “you’re only saying that 'cause you're drunk.”

he laughs. “no, liebling. you’re drunk. i’m sober, and i love you.” he takes a brief pause, thinking. “though, even drunk, i'd still love you.”

“well, i hate you.”

another laugh. “i know.”

“you’re a bitch.”

and another. “well, this bitch is yours.”

“stop laughing. this isn’t funny.”

he leans in, nudges his nose against yours, and then pulls away. there's a beautiful smile plastered all over his devastatingly handsome face, and it lightens the load in your chest almost instantaneously. you can’t tell if you want to keep it there or slap it off of him.

“i love you, liebling. let me kiss you.”

you shake your head. “no.”

“please?” he frowns, lips jutted out into an exaggerated pout.

god, he’s unbearable.

you hate kaiser; you're sure of it. he's been the bane of your existence for the past few months, and the only reason you bail out on one night stands before they can even take your top off. he’s a hurricane in every sense of the term, and he drives you absolutely insane — makes your desperation border madness, and always has you second guessing yourself.

he’s downright horrible. he's the fucking worst.

and yet, inside of your chest, there is still only love.

“fine.”

with that, his lips are on yours immediately.

you taste like alcohol, and everything he wants in his life; it’s a sweetness that makes his head swim, drowns him in all his longing, strikes him with a fervent passion — desperate, as he presses himself against you, until you fall flat on the bed and he’s hovering on top of you, heavily panting, cheeks flushed with need, eyes flooding with desire. all for you. only for you. a summer storm, for you, forever. and he knows you see it – what you’ve turned him into. a tempest. because his expression is mirrored in your own.

"i love you," he breathes out.

you don't say anything in return. you don't need to. the two of you have always transcended past the need for words, so when you curl a hand around his neck, fingertips resting on his nape for a brief second before pulling him in for another kiss, he knows that you love him, too. your touch is cold ice against the heat building beneath his skin, the boiling of his chest. the only salve, his salvation.

and when you lift your hips to roll against the growing tent in his jeans — your breath shuddering into soft whimpers at the contact, hands slipping under his shirt in a familiar, fluid motion — he knows you want him just as bad.

"mihya," you whine, clawing at his back. "i need more. i need you."

and he laughs, deep and throaty, because god, he knows.

[venusxstars]

x : LOVIN' YOU RIGHT :*+ﾟ all of me i'm offering, show you what devotion is !

in which: reo keeps chasing after you because the one thing he knows how to do is love you right.

warnings: 2.2k words, FLUFF, gn!reader, reo is an athlete, post-argument fic inspired by jungkook's 'seven' mv, mentions of food, pet names used by reader and reo, reo is a little bit of a flirt and a lot in love and pathetic bc that's how we like our men!

a/n: I LOVE REO

“what are you doing here?” 

reo looks at the direction of your voice, eyes widening in surprise upon seeing you. there are grocery bags in your hands, you’re wearing the sweater you always wear when running errands, and you’re looking at him like he’s a fly that’s invaded your home, annoyance and exasperation seeping right off you. despite it, his heart flutters alive and reo feels like he can finally breathe after the few days you spent ignoring him. 

“y/n!” he exclaims, a smile making its way onto his face. “hi baby, i’ve missed you!”

just as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, you swerve aside smoothly, causing the purple-haired’s smile to drop.

“y/n? what was that for?” you don’t answer him, instead slipping past his figure to stand in front of your door, perhaps pressing a little too close for it to be normal, but reo keeps quiet about it. “at least let me help you with your groceries, you can’t unlock a door with both hands-”

“don’t.” you command, struggling with getting your keys out. “why are you here?” 

“wh-what do you mean? i haven’t seen you in three days and i missed you so i came to visit,” he pouts. “did you not miss me?” 

your eye twitches. “i’m still mad at you,” you finally unlock your door, pushing it open and closing it before reo could come in. 

however, that plan is much easier said than done because your boyfriend has better reflexes and is considerably faster than you, so he jams his shoe in between the doorway before you could close it. he makes no move to push it open though. 

“i’m sorry!” he calls out guiltily and he hopes his words reach you through the thin space. “you know i am, i didn’t mean to upset you, and i came to talk it out and make it up to you!”

you peek through the gap, looking reo in the eye. “as much as i appreciate your apology reo, there’s no point in letting you in, i need to go run some errands soon so why don’t you leave and come back later when we can talk.”

“then can i come with you?”

“why? you’re just going to be bored following me around.”

“i’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you allowed me.” 

the silence is deafening, utterly suffocating as reo awaits for a response. he has never wanted to kick down a door so badly in his life because if you spend another millisecond not speaking to him then he might lose his mind, he’d rather die than have you shut him out. 

thankfully, you open up the gap just a little more, allowing him to see more of you, but you don’t meet his eye, looking to the side bashfully instead. “fine, but i’m still mad at you, so don’t get any ideas.”

heaven is on his side, reo decides as he fails miserably at hiding his smile.

“you wait outside though, i’ll be out in a bit.”

“wait, can’t i help you put your groceries away?”

“you don’t even know how to do it properly.”

“i’ll learn for you.”

“another time.”

reo retracts his foot and you close the door with a gentle click, the sight of you being replaced with a wooden plank souring his mood significantly. better than you slamming the door in his face, he supposes, but nevertheless, the purple-haired sighs, moping in front of your door like it was his birthright. 

he only broods for a few minutes maximum because soon enough, he’s reunited with you, trailing behind you like a second shadow as you both make your way through your neighbourhood. the excitement that reo feels practically tangible, leaving a trail of undying devotion, powered by the love he feels for you.

the walk is quiet, filled by sounds of passing cars, birds chirping, and people strolling by that stare a little too long at the purple-haired, either subtly admiring him or wondering why he seemed so familiar. you’re acutely aware of the stares and how strange the sight must be to them. world-class soccer player and multimillionaire trailing behind a nobody as if it was just another day, how unfathomable. 

you wonder if reo gets tired of it.

“what are you doing today?” your boyfriend asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“i need to drop by the bank first of all, then i have some things to return, and then i need to buy some new headphones because mine broke.”

“oh, good to know!”

“reo, i swear, don’t even get the idea about paying for any of it. use your credit card today and i will personally-”

“-okay, okay!” he jokes, defensively putting up his hands. “i won’t.”

“promise?”

“promise.”

you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion, very clearly not believing him before continuing your journey. you know your boyfriend better than anyone and if it’s one thing he’s stubborn with, it’s never letting you pay, but you’re determined and reo is plotting the many ways to break his promise. 

the first method is dropped in front of him like a divine gift, which took shape through a flower stall in front of the mall you planned on going to. reo is a man of taking his chances whenever he sees it. grabbing your hand to stop you from walking any further, reo doesn’t explain his intentions as he wordlessly drags you to the quaint store that had set itself up. 

“reo, no-”

“-this one, please,” reo demands as he hands the bouquet of his choice to the store owner, keeping you in a tight grip before you could run away. 

“reo!”

“that’ll be 7700 yen.”

“that’s too much! reo, stop it! i told you you couldn’t use your credit card today!”

from his pocket, reo fishes out a crisp ‘10000’ bill, dropping it on the platter for cash before speed walking away with the bouquet. “thank you very much, no need for change!”

the protests of the store attendant fades in the background and reo turns to you with a boyish smile, pushing the bouquet into your arms as if you hadn’t witnessed everything that just happened. 

“reo,” you murmur, resolve crumbling as the beautiful arrangement shines up at you and it doesn’t help that your (very charming) boyfriend is looking at you with a pleading look in his eyes, practically begging for you to accept. “i told you not to buy anything-”

“-with my card! you never said anything about cash.” 

“that’s not the point- oh my goodness,” you pinch the bridge of your nose whilst shaking your head, but you quickly admit defeat when a small giggle slips through your lips. 

glancing back up at him, there’s scorn in your eyes but it’s easily contrasted by the gentle smile that dances along your lips. reo feels a warmth spread in his chest, as if he had swallowed the sun and made itself home beside his heart, the same one that begins to race at the sight of you laughing. he is so pathetically devoted to you that it makes him stupid, but he’d buy all the flowers in the world if it will make you smile at him like this. 

“you’re so silly, reo,” taking the bouquet from his relaxed grip, you hug it close to your chest. “thank you though, i love them.”

“i love you,” slips past his lips before he can think.

“ever the smoothtalker, aren’t you?”

you walk away without another word, causing reo to chase after you. “wait, why aren’t you saying it back?”

“still mad.”

reo shuts his mouth, complaints dying on his tongue as he continues following you through the mall. slowly but surely, you make your way through your list of things to do, with the world-class athlete silently losing his mind more and more with each second that you weren’t giving him attention. he needs to plot more ways that would break your resolve, and fast.

his opportunity comes up when the two of you pass by a bakery that catches your eye, your gaze to lingering a little too long on the display of baked goods for reo not to notice. without a second thought, he drags you in with him, your immediate complaints falling on deaf ears. 

“i don’t want anything!” you hiss, trying to keep loyal your stubbornness despite the enchanting smell of baked goods wafting through the air.

“too bad, either you tell me what you want or i’m buying out the whole store,” reo promises, eyes alight with determination.

“i want to go home.”

“aren’t you hungry?”

“there’s food at home, i don’t want to waste any unnecessary money.” 

“it’s not wasting if it’s spent on you, though,” he reasons before ordering the baked goods that he knows you will like, and once again, paying for it with cash. 

“if you’re trying to get me to forgive you by spending your money then forget it,” you mutter, ripping your hand out of his grasp before walking out of the store.

“y/n-” reo begins, cutting himself off as he waits impatiently for his order to get finished packing; not that it takes long before he leaves the store with a branded paper bag in hand, filled with perhaps multiple boxes of baked goods as dashes out to the entrance, prepared to chase after you.

except he doesn’t need to, because you’re standing outside patiently waiting for him, the bouquet of flowers still snug in your arms. its beauty could never compare to yours, reo thinks offhandedly as he approaches you like a magnet. 

“i thought me walking out would deter you,” you murmur, eyeing the bag in his hand. “should’ve known that it wouldn’t work.” 

reo grins, partly out of adoration, mostly because he’s just glad you didn’t actually leave him behind, not that you ever would or could do such a thing. 

“you treat me too well, don’t you think?” you hug the flowers closer to your chest. 

“what? where did that come from?” 

you shrug, not meeting his eyes. “i don’t know, you’re just too good for me sometimes. aren’t you tired?”

a crack resonates through his heart, causing a few pieces to crumble and shatter on the ground. “how could you ever think that?” he says in a panic. “do i need to give you more flowers? i need to call to make you an arrangement soon, i’m so inconsiderate! we can go out next week, i’ll clear my sche-”

two hands are placed of either side of his face and the words die on reo’s tongue. you look at him with a look of fondness that almost makes him cry and fall to his knees. “-i’m sorry, i don’t know where that came from. i just think i got really lucky having someone like you in my life.” 

reo wants to say that its reverse, that he’s the one who landed in a pot of fortune and came out with someone as kind and beautiful as you, but he’ll find the words some other day because he wants to kiss you, badly. 

finally, you say, “thank you love, i appreciate your gifts.” 

he beams and falls harder in love than he already was.

by the time the two of you arrive at your apartment, the sun is beginning to dip belong the horizon and you hold a lot more goods than anticipated, your boyfriend being the one to blame for most of them.

“are you gonna call someone to drive you home?” you ask, stopping in front of your door.

reo frowns, “i guess i could do that.” 

he makes no move for his phone and his pout is a strong indication of what he truly wants. you’ve always been good at reading reo but you’ve never been good at resisting his wishes, so it’s with a faked sigh that you give in.

“fine,” you hold out your hand for him to take and he very happily complies, beaming with a hope so bright that it blinds you. “want to stay the night?”

he almost drops to one knee but doesn’t get the time to because you’re unlocking your door. this time, you’re leaving it open and reo storms in like its his birth right (which it could be. he thinks he was put on this earth to love you and being welcomed in to your apartment might as well be another declaration of love.)

its refreshing to be in your space once more, to bathe in your presence and be welcomed in instead of shut out. as much as you may scorn him, reo’s only place in the universe is beside you, and he’ll take whatever you give so long as it’s you he gets to see at the end of the day.

“reo!” you call out from the kitchen, disrupting his thoughts. “should we have some of those cakes you bought earlier?”

“yeah, i’m coming!” shouts reo, happy, content, and grateful that you will let him love you, because he’s the only one that could do it right.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[venusxstars]

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.5k | content: fluff, pining, mentions of fake dating, jealousy, reader is kind of an idiot, sae loves to tease, best friend otoya, cussing

notes: hello hello i’m on board the sae love train once more , are you guys still with me ^_^

summary: what do you do when your best friend kind of sort of forces you to confess your two-year long crush when you’re not ready to? pray and hope for the best.

“i could just tell him for you.”

“eita, fuck no,” you throw him a warning glare as you chop the vegetables up with scary precision despite not having an eye on them. only because you know if you don’t explicitly tell him not to, that he’d think it’s no big deal and do it anyway.

and let’s say, you’d rather die than let that happen.

sure, you and sae had been closer back in high school; he sat behind you and entertained the secret notes you passed to him, he used to ruffle the top of your head whenever you pouted, he used to buy food for you during breaks.

but that’s all in the past and somehow, the both of you had drifted since then.

otoya deadpans, an unamused pair of eyes looking back at you from their spot across the island. “it’s been what, four fucking years since you graduated? grow a pair,” he retorts, attempting to steal a carrot but getting a slap on the back of his hand instead.

“bold of you to say that to a girl with a knife,” you snap at him, pointing the blade at his face.

to which he merely rolls his eyes, using two fingers to push it aside. “not like you’re that good at using it.” but he sighs when you silently turn your attention back to chopping vegetables. “does that mean i have to put up with your miserable face even longer?”

you and otoya continue to bicker, and you’re beginning to wonder how you’ve tolerated being best friends with him for the past four years. he’s a real piece of work.

“fine, fine,” otoya grumbles after you’re done with lunch, bangs over his eyes. “i promise i won’t tell sae anything, okay?”

that’s after you threatened not to let him hijack your house anymore for food. for someone who’s earning big bucks being a famous soccer player, you can’t make sense of why he won’t just get food delivered. maybe he just likes to annoy you.

“good. or else i’ll kill you.”

your crush on itoshi sae has been somewhat dormant for the past few years. and by dormant you mean that you haven’t tried making any moves because you’re too scared.

itoshi sae. one of the most famous international breakout stars in soccer. one of the most talented playmakers the world has ever seen. that comes with its own sets of pros and cons.

pros? he definitely doesn’t seem like he has much trouble doing anything he wants. he gets paid for every game. he gets paid for gigs. he gets sponsorships all over the place. which basically means that financially, he doesn’t need to give a shit.

cons? the media can be brutal. sae does something that’s remotely questionable and they’re all over it. he doesn’t thank a waiter that one time? automatically labeled as a rude brat by the paparazzi. and not to mention—the amount of girls he’s forced to fake date just for the sake of publicity.

you’re mostly pressed on that last part though, because they’re all supermodels or olympic stars or rich socialites. and compared to them, well, you’re just someone who happens to be in the same friend group and hang out together every once in a while when he’s back in japan. sae doesn’t even hang out much with the group, to your dismay.

it’s a pain, or so he says.

you wonder how you drifted in the first place. maybe it’s just the fame. you wonder if he thinks of you too sometimes.

must be your wishful thinking.

kind of makes you wonder whether he does have a secret girlfriend that he’s keeping from everyone. you wouldn’t really put it past him. it’s not like he has any super deep emotional bonds with any of you (that you know of). eita says he’s definitely single, but you think he’s just saying that to appease you. he already has his hands full having to watch you mope whenever you see news of sae and another girl and yet another dating rumor.

just as well. you think sae could do better than you, spending your friday nights at home, washing dishes at the sink and looking out at the tokyo skyline instead of out partying and living life with countless friends.

you don’t think you’re too shabby though. you’re a fresh graduate with a job at one of the most prestigious companies in tokyo you can think of. it’s not bad. but you can’t help but feel it’s worlds away from the one sae lives in.

the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts, nearly dropping the white marble plate you’re washing. your eyes snap to the clock in the living room. it’s almost 9pm—right about the time when eita usually comes knocking and asking you for supper.

groaning, you wash whatever’s left of the dish soap away from your hands and sloppily dry them against the bottom of your shirt, grumbling out loud about how you really should stop coming here whenever the fuck you want, eita while you stomp over to the front door.

you open the door, messy hair and bare face and baggy clothes, fully expecting to smack some sense into otoya eita when you feel yourself freeze up at the pair of eyes looking back at you.

they’re teal and framed by pretty long lashes and definitely don’t belong to your best friend.

what the fuck is he doing here?

this is one of the rare times that you’d actually prefer to see eita at your front door instead.

sae raises a brow, giving you a once-over. of course, he’s never seen you in this state—hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, not a trace of makeup on your face. you’d made sure that whenever there was a possibility that sae would see you that you dressed yourself up as nice as possible. if you’d known he was coming over, you’d have at least dressed decently. definitely not baggy shirt and pants that you can barely see.

“uh… w-what are you doing here?” stupid, but the best you can manage.

he has his hands in his gray sweat pockets, and fuck him for wearing a black compression top. you can just make out the outline of his abs under there, the muscles on his arms already much too obvious with those short sleeves.

“dunno, eita said there was an emergency and i needed to get here,” sae says, wholly unbothered, monotonous as usual. he lets himself in, toeing his shoes off at the entryway, positioning them neatly beside your everyday sneakers.

fucking eita.

judging by what you know, sae was probably on his way for an evening jog when otoya called him. he still has his wireless earbuds in. you wonder if anything’s even playing.

sae takes it off once he catches you staring.

he’s not carrying anything. it’s just him. you wonder if anyone managed to catch him coming over. is his most recent pr stunt already over? won’t do either of you any good if he’s labeled as a cheater.

“so? what is it?” sae asks you, again, while he walks himself inside, curious eyes looking around your apartment, and suddenly you’re hyper aware. you hope to god you didn’t leave any of your inner wear lying around at random places.

in a panic, you rush over to him, blocking his path inside, both hands on his chest as you attempt to push him back to the front door. unfortunately for you, sae’s much stronger than you are, his body not budging an inch.

“it’s nothing, he made a mistake,” you sigh, giving up when you figure that sae’s only going to move of his own accord. “he’s probably just playing a prank on you, that’s all.”

you’re hoping, praying, wishing that sae will just take your word for it and go. because that’s what he does; he doesn’t hover much, doesn’t care about anything much at all. you don’t even know the last time he’s asked about how any of your lives are doing.

the world must hate you though, because sae only offers a grunt in response before looking towards your kitchen (you’re internally sighing in relief, glad that you cleaned your kitchen up before this). “i’m thirsty, you have anything to drink?”

you blink at him, stumped that sae is wasting his precious time in your apartment, but who are you to say no to sae, of all people?

“yeah, sure, juice?”

sae shrugs, “whatever.”

you turn your back on him, slowly taking your carton of apple juice and finding the nicest glass that exists in your cupboard, cursing yourself internally for not preparing for unexpected guests enough. you do this slowly partly because you’re trying to calm your stupid heart down, still not fathoming why on earth sae’s wasting his time with you.

carefully, you rehearse yourself in your head, where you’re going to step, how you’re going to walk over to him—you really are just hopeless. count it your bad luck that the moment you turn around, you nearly drop the glass because you’re forgetting a really fundamental issue here: your merch.

“no no no, uh—” you leave the glass on the countertop, scurrying over to where sae’s staring and thumbing at something on your coffee table.

sae looks at your flustered reaction, giving you way to grab your things off the table and stuff them in the drawer where they’re out of sight. he blinks at you, a slight amusement bubbling inside him.

“wow, big fan, huh?”

you don’t know what’s worse: you being your most unpresentable self right now or that sae just caught you having some of his merch.

“so you have some of eita’s merch lying around too or is it just mine?”

you could die of embarrassment right now.

back still turned to sae, you desperately search your brain for answers. thinking on the spot doesn’t seem like your strong suit right now.

“it… was a gift.” believable, right?

sae hums, as though he’s contemplating. “why just mine then? why not oliver’s or my brother’s?”

fuck.

“i don’t know, maybe yours was the only one that wasn’t sold out.”

“ouch.”

you didn’t mean to indirectly insult him but what’s a drowning girl to do?

sae sighs when you keep quiet, still staying out where you are, trembling too much to move. “didn’t know you were in love with me.”

this time, you whip your head around to face him—that same stoic expression of his unchanging on his face. “am not!”

his brows shoot up. “but you bought some of my merch.”

“i told you, it was a gift.”

you need to get paid for still standing up on your own two feet right now. your head’s way too giddy from the interaction, considering.

“even that figurine over there?” sae’s finger points to a small toy just barely visible behind the nooks of the bookshelf. it’s a small figurine; something sold a few years back when sae was just first starting out. you’d bought it because, well, you’d thought chibi sae looked cuter than actual sae. (especially now when he’s just staring blankly at you.)

“that was…”

“a gift?”

you think he’s making fun of you now at this point.

“anyway, we’ve established that there’s no emergency here so why don’t you just go?” you’re pretty sure sae won’t ever talk to you again—not after coming across what he did tonight. he probably thinks you’re a freak, probably questions why he even considers you his friend (to which you’re now wondering if that’s even true at all).

you make a mental reminder to yourself to kill otoya eita tomorrow.

sae lets you push him towards the entryway, apple juice long forgotten on the countertop, collecting condensation with water pooling below the glass.

“you must like me a lot, huh?” he ponders out loud as you continue pushing him towards the door. you see a hint of cockiness in his stare now, the slightest tug of a smirk on the corner of his lips.

“i do n—”

“be careful what you say,” sae cuts you off, toeing his shoes back on, looking glamorous as ever and you nearly forget that he looks straight out of a magazine even in his sportswear. “‘cause i’ll believe you.”

part of you wants him to just go already so your knees can buckle under, but part of you wants to ask him what he means. what’s he insinuating? isn’t the answer clear enough.

but now it’s way past nine and he’s all ready to go yet he’s still standing at your doorway, waiting for your answer. you want to scream no, you want to keep your secret safe, you don’t want him to know about the crush you’d been harbouring. but he told you to be careful what you say because he’ll believe you.

“s-so what if i do?” you stutter, failing to look him in the eyes, your stare focused on the air in between you.

sae’s features soften ever so slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to give in so quickly, but it isn’t one of disgust. it’s more like one of pleasant surprise.

after what seems like an eternity, sae finally opens his mouth.

“you must’ve gotten jealous a lot with all those girls i’d gone out with.”

your fist instinctively connect with his arm, his stoic finally giving way to a grimace, palm rubbing his triceps in pain. out of all the things to say, he chooses to say that? you think he deserves it.

“you know what, sae? you can go back to your fake girlfriends, i could care less,” you snap at him, pouting. you hate that despite how ignorant his words are that you can’t find it in yourself to hate him.

sae exhales sharply, chuckling softly when he sees your pout, and you feel as though it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this even though it’s not. his hand comes up to ruffle the top of your head gently, and you’re reminded of when he did this to you back in high school.

“can’t do that, can i?” he tells you, that soft disposition gone and the stoic mischief coming right back. “not when i’m in front of who could be my real girlfriend.”

your heart might’ve forgotten how to beat.

sae leaves you standing there, left to your own devices as he exits your apartment, fully aware of his effect on you.

not long after he leaves (while you’re still standing in the doorway), your phone buzzes in your pocket. you fish it out and see his name there for the first time in a long time.

you smile to yourself as you read his message. okay, so maybe you’ll spare eita’s life for now.

[venusxstars]

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄 ⸻ nsfw.

nagi seishiro x fem!reader

nagi just thinks that you feel so good. nothing else other than that matters.

keynotes ⸻ reader with implied sagging breasts. implied body insecurities. breast fondling / sucking. fingering. penetration.

venus’ note ⸻ boobs of all different shapes and sizes are beautiful. no one can fight me on this one.

YOUR BREATH COMES OUT SHARP and ragged as you feel Nagi’s soft lips connect lazily against your neck, tongue running in small and slow circles on the skin before he gently nips on it. Your place on his lap was a constant thing, after all, Nagi wasn’t one to put effort into hovering himself on top of you whilst going through the trouble of balancing himself with his two elbows. He voiced out his concerns repeatedly the last time you both tried before settling back to your usual positions—you sitting snug on his lap as he sits comfortably on the couch with his broad back leaning against the soft rest.

You squeal as he suddenly lifts up your shirt and you instinctively move back, pulling your shirt back down. It was an irrational concern, truly, to hold such insecurities over breasts that functioned normally. But you didn’t like the way the weighed down above your abdomen whenever you’d sit down nor could you seem to get used to the image of them without your bra lifting them up more ‘attractively’.

See, lookism has become more prevalent along the recent years with the constant increase of the usage of social media that wordlessly promoted unattainable beauty standards. Everyone had their own certain charm to themselves, but with every comment thoughtlessly uttered, apparently certain groups of people had a surplus amount of it. And that only fed onto the irrational thoughts on your mind.

“What’s the matter?” Your boyfriend furrows his brows in genuine confusion. His hand moved down to clutch onto the edge of your shirt, frowning a little at the way you pulled them down.

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, looking away. “Can I keep my shirt on?”

He tilts his head, dark and round eyes gazing into yours quizzically. He speaks bluntly. “Why? … I mean, it’s your choice, but I wanna touch ‘em.”

You chuckle at the way the words roll out of his mouth with a certain lack of care and genuine confusion, and perhaps, that nearly enough to convince you out of your irrational thoughts completely. You cup his large hand that was still holding onto the shirt you were wearing before explaining softly. “It’s a weird reason, but I just don’t like the way they look.”

He nods in agreement at your first statement, looking down at your clothed breasts shamelessly, muttering. “It is a weird reason. Dunno, but they look fine to me. Besides… don’t really care, just wanna touch ‘em…”

He dips his head down onto the crook of your neck once again, breathing in your natural scent before kissing your skin lazily again. He mumbles quietly against your neck, slowly snaking his large hands up to grope your clothed breasts. He squeezes them gently before running his thumbs down onto your nipples that were poking against the shirt.

You breathe out shakily, holding onto his bare shoulders as he plays with your tits mindlessly. You see the way he subtly pulls back a little, head dipped down to stare intently at the way his own large hands were fondling with your soft breasts—the weight on his palm nearly satisfying him, along with the way the fabric of your shirt forms creases every time he squeezed.

“Come on… let me see ‘em, please…” His hands move a bit more roughly and you gasp at the movements. “S'not enough…”

This time, you don’t stop him when he lifts his shirt up completely above your head and throws it onto the floor. You don’t know what he’s thinking as he stares down at your tits wordlessly for a few seconds, dark eyes pinned on it without moving away for a single second. Finally, he snaps out of his stupor with a soft whine when you smack the back of his head lightly.

“Seishiro…” You begin to grumble. “What are you—”

You gasp when he suddenly dips his head down, lifting your breasts up a little with his hands, before sucking on the tips of your puffy nipples. You shudder, unconsciously tightening your legs around his waist as you pull yourself closer to him.

He groans quietly against your breast, looking up at your contorted expressions. “Looks fine to me, baby… so pretty, even. Feels good in my hands and mouth… Wonder how good my cock would feel between your tits…”

He presses his lips all over the surface of your chest—soft moans tumbling out of his own lips as if his own ministrations were pleasurable for himself—alternating between each of your breast. He sucks on the skin, leaving soft red marks in its wake, and soon, your breasts is painted with a harmony of colors like a simple abstract painting of the picturesque lust.

Your bodies are both hot, and you can feel the wetness seeping out of your pussy through your thin panties, leaving a patch on your boyfriend’s gray sweatpants. He pauses his ministrations to dip his hand down against your heat, cupping your clothed pussy completely.

“Ah, fuck… it’s so wet, baby” He mumbles, cheeks and ears dusted a light shade of rosy red. “Got some on my pants. Let’s take ‘em off…”

You lift your hips up as he pulls your underwear down and throwing them onto the floor before making a move to take off his own sweatpants. Soon, you’re both bare for each other to see and admire. You rub the side of your arm a bit shyly at the exposure especially with the bright fluorescent lights of the living room glaring down over your figures. It shows every single part of yourselves—every crevice and color marking your skin.

Nagi slowly reaches up to touch the back of your neck and push you forward to capture his lips with yours. It’s soft and gentle, just like how kisses between the two of you were always shared—exploring every part of each other through tongues slowly slipping in.

You pull away breathlessly. “Want more, Sei…”

“Me too…” He mumbles, immediately moving his fingers down against your pussy again. He rubs slow circles with his middle and ring finger around your wet clit, keeping his eyes trained on your face to watch your expression contort, presenting varying feelings of the pleasure he was providing you. He feels the wetness on the pads of his fingers, pressing them a little more against the area before slowly easing a finger in. His cock hardens, pressing against his lower abdomen as he hears your drawn-out moan dragging out of your parted lips.

“Got me so hard with those sounds, baby… let me hear some more…” He groans out softly, pumping his middle finger inside your pussy, searching for your g-spot. He moves in a little deeper, touching the bundle of nerves inside of you and rubbing it a little with the pad of his finger. He watches you jolt on top of him before deciding to do the same movement twice. Next, he pulls his finger back slowly, experimentally bumping the pad of his finger against the spot.

You were in cloud nine at his seemingly mindless and entertained movements, feeling every part of his finger with your walls clamping down on it tightly. Warmth spreads around under your belly and you can feel it building up with each passing second. You whine when he pulls his finger out again, watching him pump his cock slowly with his head thrown back against the back rest of the couch.

“W-Wait just a second, baby…” He gasps a little, pumping his cock that was oozing with pre-cum. It drips down on the length of his cock and he sighs before aligning the tip against your entrance. “Hurts so much— wanna be inside you so bad…”

He pushes his cock in and you both simultaneously let out a moan. It was thick inside of you and you can feel every single crevice and vein with your gummy walls clamping down on it as he slowly helps you ease down on his cock. His long fingers were digging down against your hips, pulling you down breathlessly until he’s completely sheathed inside of you.

You both take a short pause as you accommodate his length inside of you.

“You okay?” He asks a little breathlessly, chest rising and falling deeply. You can see him grind his teeth a little.

You nod after a while before slowly lifting your hips up again and dropping it with the same pace down on his cock. You furrow your brows, biting your lip at the pleasure that seemed to swarm throughout your lower body.

“H-Help…” You request as your thighs burned slightly at the continuous movements you were making. Obediently, he places his hands onto your ass, helping you lift and drop your hips against his.

“F-Fuck, s’good, baby…” He moans, watching the way you repeatedly bouncing on his dick. He lifts his gaze up and groans this time at the way your tits bounced along with the movements of your whole body. He moves his head forward, burying his face between the valley of your breasts, loving how the warmth engulfed his skin comfortingly. “Love your tits so much…”

He lifts and drops your hips a little faster, digging his fingers down on your ass more that it seemed to be leaving marks behind. His clouded mind and pleasure-filled body taking control of the pace each time he feels your soft yet tight walls squeeze and pulse around him deliciously.

“S-Sei!” You gasp, bouncing on his cock harder and following along with his wordless command.

“H-Huh? F-Fuck… yes, baby?” He bites his bottom lip hard, leaving it swollen and pink before he starts babbling between your bouncing chest. “Love having you fuck yourself on my dick like this… Wanna see you cum around my— c-cock, shiiit…”

He throws his head back, forcibly picking up the pace as he lifts and drops your hips on his cock before he then begins to meet your movements by thrusting his own hips up. The sound of skin-slapping fills the area along with the breathy moans leaving both of your lips.

“S’too fast, S-Sei— a-ah!” You gasp, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back.

“Looks so f-fucked out, baby—” He groans out, thrusting his hips up faster and deeper inside of you as you meet his hips—the impact leaving your clit hard and aching as it slaps against his skin, sending waves of sharp delicious heat up and around your core.

“G-Gonna… gonna cum!” You moan, digging your nails against his shoulder as you suddenly twitch, pussy pulsing and walls clamping down hard around his cock. Your mind blanks when you reach your climax and you shudder as your boyfriend continues to move.

“S-Shit, got so tight… W-Wanna cum too—“ He buries his cock deep one last time before it twitches, then pulling out to shoot his milky white cum on your breasts. “H-Haah—”

You both pant loudly at the exertion then you drop your head down against his shoulder, laying against him limply and tiredly. You can hear his heart beat even with your ears up from where you were and you were certain that he could hear yours too.

“Thanks, Sei” You blurt out quietly.

“For what?” His words come out a little breathlessly.

“For everything”

You can feel him tilt his head and you chuckle when you hear him utter his response cluelessly.

“Don’t really know why you’re thanking me, but… no problem, I guess…”

[venusxstars]

𝐋𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐈 𝐋𝐀 ⸻ nsfw.

mikage reo x fem!reader

reo finds his life approaching perfection through your existence.

keynotes ⸻ soft dom!reo mikage, implied reader body insecurities, body worship, fingering, breast fondling, squirting.

venus' note ⸻ i don't typically write body appearances so they're pretty much always ambiguous. but i would like to slowly start incorporating features such as stretch marks, discoloration, different breast shapes, etc. they won't be specifically stated, but they may be implied in future works, so keep an open mind.

MANY THINGS IN LIFE APPEARED to be fickle through the lenses of one who constantly looked forward to the unknown future. Reo knows this much too well. The way the leaves changed color over time and releases its hold onto a small twig, or how clouds move forward and slowly disperses to be replaced with new ones.

Changes are inevitable, and Reo finds himself wistful over how the development of individual things typically required independence—independence from things that hindered their natural evolution.

See, viewing life forward has always been the norm for Reo. The past and the present are merely building blocks for what is to come next no matter how significant they may be. It’s a subconscious response—his typical way of viewing life. Because every single day of his life as a child was painfully monotonous and boring. There is nothing particularly exciting about things you know will be handed down to you each day. The past and the present weren’t anything that was too interesting.

Well, usually, until he finds you.

Every single second that trickles down the hourglass, imprints itself onto his mind the picture-perfect pleasure that runs deep and hot across connected bodies. The way you were splayed over the bed, face contorted to one of pleasure as he presses kisses all over your warm skin.

He loves the way you catch you bottom lip down under the top row your teeth before letting them go to moan, leaving an imprint of what had just occurred. He loves the way your tits move and lift a little as you arch your spine; their own unique shape moving along to your body’s rhythm as he pumps his long and thick fingers in and out of you. He loves the little colors and lines that are painted across your skin that you seemed to hate so much—the little light streaks that mimicked the image of thunder-strikes running across your inner thighs, your belly, your breasts, your arms, and anywhere else they may be; the darker spots filled with stories you’ve yet to tell him about; the scars and small indentations that marked your skin. He loves to kiss them; to worship every single part of your body as if you were his saving grace.

And he finds that he doesn’t mind living in the present nor looking into the past so long as he gets to see you, you, and you.

“Ah, fuck, sweetheart…” He groans, deep and raspy as it rolls out of his tongue with warm air catching between his throat. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he keeps his violet irises pinned on you. It moves everywhere you are, trying to capture every little feature and action. But he thinks that he likes looking at your face the most along with the expressions you make. “So, so beautiful for me…”

He curls his middle and ring finger slightly; the rough pads touching the fuzzy and spongey spot inside you that causes you to gasp. He presses the part repeatedly, sucking his breath and muttering in fixation when he hears you moan breathlessly. “So that’s the spot, hm?”

He brings his other hand up and presses a thumb onto your clit, rubbing slow circles as two fingers thrust and curl in and out of you rhythmically. He turns his gaze momentarily from your wet pussy up to your breasts then your face, lips curling up in delight. He requests gently. “Play with with your tits for me, sweetheart? Yeah, just like that. Circle your fingers around your nipples. Don’t— don’t pinch them unless I tell you to.”

He watches you do just that. You circle your index fingers around your nipples and you feel pleasure to increase along with his simultaneous movement along your pussy. Your belly feels warm and as if it was surrounded by a thousand butterflies as the seconds tick by along with the continuous ministrations. You bite your lip, wanting the pleasure to elevate even more that what you were already getting.

“R-Reo—“ You furrow your brows, closing your eyes shut tightly. “More...”

“Oh, you want more?” His voice curls upwards teasingly and he suddenly begins to thrust his fingers a little faster inside of you. He rubs his thumb up and down your clit, causing a shock of pleasure to suddenly shoot across your belly. He grins a little, looking up at you touching your breasts the way he had told you to. He chuckles. “Pinch your cute nipples for me, would you, sweetheart? Uhuh, yeah, fuck— look at you…”

He thrusts his finger fasters before adding his index finger in. He watches you jolt at the sudden addition, laughing at the way you cry out a little in pleasure. “Pinch them harder, sweetheart. Roll them between your fingers just like how I do it all the time… That’s right, good girl.”

“A-Ah— Reo!”

His eyes widens at the way you suddenly twitch, hips trembling and mindlessly thrusting up repeatedly when you cum. Your liquid shooting out transparent and slick, dripping down across his rough palms and down his forearms. He watches the entire thing in wild fascination, admiring the way your cries left your lips much louder than a few seconds earlier and the way your body shuddered.

The air seems to be knocked out of his lungs as he tries to speak, words coming out a half groan and half a whisper as he rides out your high with thrusts that slows down to a halt. “Shit, yeah, that’s a good fucking girl, sweetheart.”

He pulls his fingers out, gently grasping your hips as he leans forward to press a soft kiss onto your inner thigh. He moves up slowly, halting each time to press kiss onto your skin—his lips landing above your clit, below your belly, up your abdomen, your chest, and neck—before capturing your lips in a kiss. His cock feels so painfully hard under his boxers, yet still, all he could think about was you.

“Did so great for me, sweetheart.” He whispers with a gently smile, pecking your lips gently before playfully laying on top of you and burying his face against the crook of your neck.

You wheeze a little at the sudden weight. “You’re heavy, Reo.”

“Mmm…” He whines softly, refusing to get up as he presses his lips against your neck. “Let me stay here for now.”

You chuckle, settling down as you slowly get used to his weight. You pat his back. “Fine, but my boobs kind of hurt with your chest pressing on them, you know?”

“Oh!” He gets up and lays beside you instead. He smiles at you apologetically, bringing his hand up to gently massage one of your breasts. “Sorry about that.”

You press your lips against his cheek quickly.

His cheekbones turn pink at the action before he’s pressing his cheek against the top of your head. He mumbles under his breath with his eyes closed, listening to your breathing.

“Being with you is like being in paradise. I never want to leave. I never will leave.”

[venusxstars]

i've been seeing a lot of smut that usually caters to conventionally attractive bodies ( and that's fine, you do you, boo! ), but i am seriously thirsting for works that are a little different!!

i'm talking about worshipping stretch marks, saggy breasts, discoloration, natural body hair, hip dips, etc.

i honestly cannot seem to find a lot, so i might as well write em : > hope you guys look forward to my future works ; )

[venusxstars]

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 ⸻ nsfw.

otoya eita × fem!reader

keynotes ⸻ teasing, lap dance, breast fondling, grinding. short one-shot. wherein you give otoya a lap dance as a reward for his hard-work.

venus' note ⸻ thought of this idea when a lap dance tutorial appeared in my tiktok fyp. also, this man is so hot ( except for his green highlight ). also, i apologize for the late post; i've been busy.

"I'M HOME." Eita calls out as he enters through your shared home and closes the door right behind him. Usually, he'd see you cooking something strange up in kitchen or you'd be watching television in the living room. To his surprise, you weren't there to greet him at all.

He furrows his brows in confusion before wordlessly walking towards your shared room. As he opens the bedroom door, he freezes in place, accidentally dropping his heavy gym bag onto the floor in surprise at the sight.

You were there, sitting so prettily at the center of the bed with your bare feet pressed flat on the floor. Your body clad in dark rosy red lace that barely covered your skin—breasts peeking out around the corners of the fabric—and your hair set down loosely. You regarded him coolly with your lips stretched upwards the slightest bit while your sharp eyes sliced knowingly through his hungry gaze.

He swallowed and breathed out shakily, staring at you with slightly wide eyes. His lips part and he immediately takes a step towards you.

"Fuck, come here, princess—" He mutters in a daze before bumping into a chair that he hadn't even noticed was standing at the center of the bedroom. His cheeks flush a little when you laugh.

You stand up, walking over to him as his eyes are pinned on you. You place your hand flat on his chest and push him to sit down onto the chair. His eyes widens even more and he yelps quietly at your sudden actions.

"What are you..." The words die down in his throat as you begin circling around him wordlessly, your hand tracing against his clothed chest then standing behind him.

You dip your head down, brushing your lips gently against his ear and you see him shudder. He balls his fist in his lap and crosses his arms over his chest in anticipation. "Relax, darling. Sit down and just enjoy the show, would you?"

He nods wordlessly, swallowing.

You walk over slowly in front of him and trail your hands towards the back rest of the chair, leaning your face closer towards his. He tilts his head forward as if expecting a kiss but you move away immediately and turn your back against him, arching your spine as your lightly press your ass against his hips—not too close, just enough to leave him wanting more.

You see his legs spreading more and his large calloused hands grasping your sides. You roll your hips slowly and sensually, but never putting enough pressure between his legs. Just a light sort of pressure, slowly feeling his cock hardening and pressing against the fat of your ass. You hear him suck in a breath and mutter out a quiet, raspy "Fuck".

You sit on him completely with your back agains his chest, arching your spine outwards a little. You lean your head back against his shoulder, running your right hand against the side of his cheek and upwards, tugging on his soft snowy hair. You catch your bottom lip underneath the top row of your teeth, purposely breathing louder and heavier against his ear, and easing out the most silent moan.

His breathing grows rapid as it almost looses its rhythm. You feel it against your back as his pecs push themselves against your shoulder blades back and forth as he lets air in and out through his parted pink lips. His hands snake onto the sides yours waist, fingers digging down against the soft flesh as if trying not to run desperately past the line of losing his self-control.

"Are you watching me, darling?" You murmur breathily, watching yourself do a body roll. Your hips thrust forward slowly and smoothly like a passing wave across the sea, before your ass presses back against his hardened cock underneath his sweatpants. You feel his burning stare over your shoulder as he looks down at your hips. His long and slender fingers dig against your flesh more, trimmed nails biting the skin.

"Oh, I'm watching, baby." He drawls out deeply with a rasp as he keeps his emerald eyes pinned on your swaying and rolling hips.

You spread your legs, hooking it over his knees. You pull his hands away from your waist, guiding it throughout the expanse of your body; the soft skin of your thighs and inching towards its inner areas to touch the lacy red fabric before leading it towards your belly, slowly trailing upwards to your rib cage. His knuckles touch the underside of your breasts and you shudder, breathing against his ear.

Suddenly, he brings his hands up to cup your breasts over your lingerie before squeezing your mounds.

Your movements stutter and you press your ass back down a bit harder on his lap when you feel a wave of heat engulfing your belly and your core. You grind your teeth when he inserts his hands under your lacy bralette, bringing the pads of his index fingers over your puffy nipples.

The puffy buds catch under the pads of his fingers as he rubs downwards. You jolt, pressing your legs together and throwing your head back against his shoulder.

"Go on," He pulls his hands away completely from you, denying you of more pleasure like the same thing you have been doing. You furrow your brows in frustration as his deep voice hum against your ear teasingly.

"Move your body, darling."

[venusxstars]

I'm waiting for the Chigiri smut.. 👉🏼👈🏼

i've already posted it, darling! go ahead and browse through my masterlist <33

[venusxstars]

“what did you just call me?” rin asks, whipping his head faster than an owl turning to you.

“i asked if you wanna order pizza, or if you're in the mood for chinese?” you repeat.

“no, that's not what you said.” he raises an eyebrow.

“i did though? that's all i said.” you seem to be enjoying this, whatever you're trying to do. rin knows you're messing with him, with your amused little smile and the way you're tilting your head to the side to feign innocence tells him enough.

“i was sure i heard you call me something...” his voice trails off, gaze slowly going back to the tv screen.

you're trying not to snicker at the poor man, who was peacefully watching a soccer match until now when you called out to him.

“dunno what you're talking about... bro.” you say with a casual shrug and rin shoots you a look with eyes as wide as saucers, lips parting slightly with mild surprise and utter disbelief.

he's now fully turned to you, eyes narrowing with each word, “dont. call. me. that.”

“hmm? what do you mean?” you chuckle playfully, and rin's glare darkens ten times more.

“you know what i mean, y/n.”

you almost feel guilty, with the way he's frowning at you like a pouting child. it's cute really, because you know exactly what he's talking about.

“oh, you mean ‘bro’? you don't like that? why not?” you bring a hand to caress his cheeks.

“what if i called you ‘sis’ huh? then what? you wouldn't like it either,” he grumbles, grabbing your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“valid point,” you laugh, and it soothes rin's frown to a much softer stroke of his lips. he breathes against your hand, closing his eyes and pressing a few more kisses to the tips of your fingers.

“well then, what do you want for dinner babygirl? ”

it's hilarious— the way his eyes shot open, the slight twitch of his eyebrows and the look of pure horror on rin's face. he's puzzled, eyeing you up and down, “what the fuck?”

“c'mon, it's cute! it's full of affection and endearment,” rin's frown is returned with ten times more intensity, he's actually scowling now, “i mean look at you—” you bring you other hand to cup his cheeks, “you're so babygirl.”

“i. am. not.” he says, cheeks sweetly puffed against your palms in annoyance but there's also a faint glow of strawberries, “you're insufferable.”

“whatever you say babygirl” you kiss him.

and he kisses you back, “shut up.”

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

[venusxstars]

nagis the type of bf to be jealous if a mosquito bit ur tit

so true he’s so possessive and it’s so cute. he’d be cuddling up to you in bed one night, running his hands up your shirt to soothe himself. nagi likes to sleep on your chest or your tummy cause you’re warm, kissing at the flesh he exposes cause he likes to hear you giggle and sigh happily. makes his head all tingly but in a good way.

then his hand sort of smooths over the bump where you’ve been bitten by a mosquito and his mood instantly sours bc… why has something else bitten you in his favourite spot. like that’s nagi’s favourite place.

he’d try to play it cool at first, probably squeezing your boobs or massaging them cause he’s always playing with your chest for comfort and then after a while (when you don’t ask him what’s up) he speaks up. “pretty thing, what’s that?” he’d ask you quietly, teething at the fabric of your shirt.

“what’s what, seishiro?”

“this.” nagi is such a troll, he’d like pinch the healing bite just to make you hiss and finally pay attention to him. “it looks like a hickey. you seein’ other guys, got other boyfriends b’sides me?” soooo annoying, and whiny istg. “‘m supposed to be the only one giving you hickeys.”

“sei, that’s a bug bite.” you swat at him and he’s still whining and complaining, rolling around in your lap like it’s the end of the world. “you’re my only boyfriend, stupid.”

“so mean to me,” after that he’d push up your shirt a little bit more despite your protests or how flustered you are and just… start sucking on the underside of your boob to give you a bigger bruise/mark compared to the bite — he’s so possessive and jealous he wants to be the only one leaving marks on you. “thas’ better. ‘m the only one allowed to mark you up here. kay, angel.”

“o-okay, sei.”

but he doesn’t stop there, nagi doesn’t stop until your entire chest is covered in his love bites <3

[venusxstars]

planning to write a steamy delicious one-shot of the reader giving otoya eita a lap dance !!! your boyfriend had just come home from practice and you decide to give him a lil somethin' to reward him for all his hard work. imagine making him sit on a chair in the middle of your shared bedroom and grinding your ass between his spread legs and against his hips teasingly—

drooling at just the thought omg. stay tuned for this! i'll post it some time this week : ]

[venusxstars]

𝐋𝐔𝐕 𝐌𝐄! 𝐋𝐔𝐕 𝐌𝐄! ⸻ sfw.

blue lock boys having a crush on you

( nagi seishiro & mikage reo )

keynotes ⸻ crush head-canons. fluff.

venus' note ⸻ this is how i think the blue lock boys would be like having a crush. i made it as realistic as possible based on their canon personalities.

nagi seishiro

based on nagi's personality and way of thinking, i think that even he himself wouldn't notice that he had actually started liking someone.

he just finds himself looking at you whenever you're around, just wordlessly and openly staring with that expressionless look. but on the other hand, his mind is in a slight buzz. he's wondering to himself as to why he was looking at you.

sometimes when he'd be playing games, his thoughts would suddenly just lead back to you. the way you looked today, or the way you acted, or the way you spoke and what you said. he'd think about that and he's suddenly groaning to himself about how it's so annoying that you're in his head. ( then he's silently groaning again when he realizes that he's died in the game he's playing )

he consults reo about this and his friend makes him realize that he likes you. and with this realization, thoughts of you become even more rampant and he wishes that he never even realized it in the first place. it's troublesome and it seems insincere if he's suddenly doing something so out of the ordinary for him.

after thinking about it so much, it gets troublesome for him to the point that he just talks to you out of nowhere and so randomly just to try and settle down his thoughts. he tries to be casual.

it's awkward between the two of you if you're introverted but he makes the effort to ask questions because he wants to get you out of his head as soon as possible. this plan back-fires when he thinks about the conversation between the two of you even after days have past since the event took place. he's also subconsciously berating himself for having zero social skills to lead the conversation and thought that the way he went about it was cringey.

if you're extroverted, he finds himself listening to whatever you have to say. his mind strangely doesn't drift off or his eyes don't droop sleepily unlike when he's listening to other people talk. he doesn't ask much questions; just a quiet "mhm" or "and then?" from time to time to let you know that he's listening. doesn't laugh or likely wouldn't understand if you made a joke, so it gets awkward. ( but days after, as he realizes that you actually made a joke, he's subconsciously berating himself for being slow and "cringey" )

he'd ask for advice from reo, but he probably wouldn't even try to do whatever reo told him to do. he's simulating the techniques that reo told him and he thinks that it'd be cringey for him to do. he can't even imagine himself flirting without wrinkling his face in disgust.

he'd probably confess to you out of nowhere. when he thinks that his mind's going to burst from thinking of you, you'll find him suddenly blurting out that he likes you. you could be entering the washroom that time, or drinking water, or opening the door. then he'll tell you that it was troublesome to try and keep it hidden while also trying to get close with you.

he sucks at dealing with feelings, but hey, it's part of his charm.

mikage reo

he's a confident guy. he's aware of the things that he has—money, power, academic prowess, and interpersonal skills—and he's not afraid to use it especially getting his crush to like him back.

based on his personality, i think that when he likes someone, he'd view it as some sort of challenge. he's making it his goal to make you fall for him just as much as he's fallen for you. he's using his money to buy you gifts that he knows you like. he's sweet-talking you; praising you even for the smallest achievements.

i wouldn't say that he thinks about you so much. he's much more emotionally-intelligent compared to nagi, so i'd say that you wouldn't be the center of his world. he likes you a lot, but he also pays attention to his own goals as well. he knows how to manage the thoughts of having a crush, basically.

if you're introverted, he'd be more careful in approaching you. he's making sure to take the lead in conversations if you don't know what to say. he cracks jokes here and there to get you to relax and he's bringing up topics that he knows you have an interest in.

if you're extroverted, he's going along with your vibe since he's quite extroverted himself. he listens to whatever stories you have to say and he's adding comments here and there based on what you're telling him.

i bet he talks about his crush on you to nagi. nagi's just humming mindlessly here and there, pretending to listen to reo while he's playing games, while reo's telling him about the conversation he had with you earlier in complete detail.

he has a plan for making you fall for him and it's pretty simple: be your special friend that you can rely on even with the toughest things. relationships thrive in trust and reo abides by this, so he firstly would want to be your closest friend more than anything.

once you're friends, he would flirt with you sometimes. he'd notice even the slightest shifts in styles that you have and he's complimenting you for it. he's basically sending you subtle romantic signals that he thinks will have your heart and head in a buzz.

he'd probably consult romance books. he'd nitpick at the scenes that he thinks are subtle and romantic enough but also not cringey. he'd be placing emphasis on pulling you towards the safer side of the sidewalk, or he's holding your arm when you're crossing the street together, or he's placing his palm on the edge of the table in case you're picking up something on the floor that you dropped.

he's very careful about when he'll be confessing. once he sees concrete signs of you liking him back, then that's the time he'd be confessing.

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* hi, darlings! any requests on who i should do next?

[venusxstars]

𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬' 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬!

reo mikage x fem!reader

sensory depravation. blind fold. voice kink ( whimpering audio ). sex toy ( dildo ). nipple play. teasing.

thinkin' about reo mikage and sensory depravation. picture this: you in a blind fold with headphones covering your ears blasting whimpering sounds of reo who had recorded it some time ago while he was teasing himself. you're laying down on the king-sized bed of your shared bedroom inside the luxurious house; your hips elevated a little with a pillow pressed under your ass with your hands gripping the sheets tightly. you're trembling in anticipation; pussy drooling and twitching over hearing his deep, raspy moans playing loudly against your ears. but no, you can't squeeze your legs shut in an attempt to relieve yourself, because you feel reo's broad shoulders blocking the way.

you don't know what to expect; you don't know when he's going to start doing anything other than letting his warm breath flutter gently over your hardened clit. suddenly, you feel the tip of a dildo thrusting slowly inside of you. it's long and thick, but your wet pussy swallows it greedily. your shoulders tense and your hips buck against it. it was pure torture with how slow he was going with you while you're hearing his pretty deep moans playing against your ear.

you're needy and very much so when some of your senses have been blocked. every touch sends shock of pleasure through your heated belly. you're so sensitive that just after a few slow thrusts of the long, curved dildo hitting your fuzzy g-spot, you're already twitching and cumming so hard. you're pleading for reo to touch you, but your voice is drowned out with the audio blasting through your eardrums. you don't know how loud you're being, but with the way you feel his hand cover your mouth, it must be quite loud.

reo doesn't take off your earphones and blindfold just yet, proceeding to tease your nipples this time. the rough pads of his thumbs are circling over your puffy buds before his nail catches it as he rubs down. you twitch, arching your back and parting your lips. suddenly, he's pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers. you're legs squeeze shut, crossing them together and humping your own thigh before you're cumming again like a sensitive and needy girl that you are.

reo takes off your earphones and blindfold and his purple eyes look down at you, glinting with amusement.

"let me fuck you properly this time, yeah?"

( venus is horny af i want a boyfriend )

[venusxstars]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 ⸻ nsfw.

chigiri hyoma × fem!reader

keynotes ⸻ dom chigiri hyoma. clit rubbing. fingering. dirty talk. praise. squirting. aftercare. wherein your boyfriend catches you reading smut.

venus' note ⸻ he's so beautiful. pretty pretty princess has a place in my heart <33 i'm also in love with him.

'RELAX, BABY. LET ME DO ALL THE WORK.' She shudders as his voice—as deep and raspy as the ocean that crashes against the sandy shores—whisper against the shell of her ear.

You feel a slight heat building between your legs as your eyes rapidly consume the words printed on the book's pages, biting your lip a little in need.

His hands are wandering, like a sailor floating on the sea, and discovering every part of her body. She feels it as his slender finger touches the valley between her hip, sliding against the hardened, slick nub carefully as if he was afraid the might break her—touching it delicately like a wet flower's bud and feeling its softness rub against his fingers. A soft moan leaves her—

"What are you reading?" Your heart drops beneath your chest as your boyfriend's voice suddenly spills into the room's initial empty silence. You shut your book immediately and look at your boyfriend who was standing behind you.

He had his brow raised and his arms crossed, but with the way you see the slight quirk at the corner of his lips, you know that he knows what you were reading.

"So?" He chuckles, glancing down at the book in your hands before snatching it quickly. You try to retrieve the book desperately but he pulls it away from your reach. He opens the page you were on earlier and began reading it softly, mumbling the words under his breath with his eyes concentrated on the page. And with each word that rolls smoothly out of his lips, you bite your lip harder in embarrassment.

"Do you like how my fingers feel, baby? You're so fucking wet." Your boyfriend glances up at you while reading the line, his voice dipping down teasingly.

"H-Hyoma—" You stutter, listening to his low voice reading the erotic dialogues.

He tears his eyes away from the book to look at you properly. "You like this stuff?" He closes the book momentarily with his finger inserted between the pages to mark where he was previously reading. "It's... well, something"

"Hyoma!" You hit his shoulder lightly, feeling a little annoyed at his teasing. He had just disturbed you while you were immersed into reading the best part of the book. The heat you felt from earlier was still quite there and it burned even more with each word that he softly uttered as he teasingly read to you.

He raises his hand up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." He walks around the couch to sit beside you, pressing his lips against your cheek gently.

You huff out a little at his attempt at apologizing, but it still works nevertheless. You lean your head against his shoulder and press against his side more.

Not even a few minutes pass until he's talking again.

"Say... why don't we read it together, hm?" His voice dips a little deeply as he brushes his lips against your ear. "I like a good book too, you know?"

"W-What... but it's—" You halt, squirming in place awkwardly and looking down at his hands. His right hand holds the book with his index finger still tucking between the page. He begins to open it again, eyeing you momentarily. He places it in your hands.

"Come on" He hums nonchalantly, leaning his head on top of yours. "Read it."

You snap your gaze towards him with wide eyes. "O-Out loud?"

"It's easier to follow that way, isn't it?" He chuckles before pointing at the last paragraph that he was reading.

You notice how his hand other slowly travels down your bare thigh, squeezing the flesh, causing you to gasp quietly. His finger lightly traces a heart on your skin and it almost tickles you across the process while your heart beats faster under your chest.

"H-Hyoma..."

"Come on, baby." He repeats the nickname of the characters in the book. "Read it for me."

Reluctantly, you begin to read. Your words tumble out clumsily and quietly past your lips, jaw stuttering from time to time with each dirty description read out loud. You shiver when your boyfriend's fingers move up from your thigh, nearing the edge of your underwear.

He hums with his lips near your ear. "Mhm? Keep going"

You stutter again, halting when his finger stretches the band of your underwear and releases it with a quiet snap! You jolt with the hairs around your body rising and the heat between your legs pooling up more and more. The added sensations and the erotic words that leave your lips seem to rapidly make you feel needy all the more.

"And then? How did he do it, baby?" He asks breathily against your ear. You could hear his heart beating rapidly underneath his chest as well and how heavy he was breathing.

"H-His fingers continue rub against h-her clit—" You stumble over your words and moan when you feel your boyfriend move your underwear to the side to gently rub your swollen nub. He gathers the wetness seeping down from you pussy and rubs it up towards your clit, circling gently.

"Like this?" He asks with a muffled rasp. He halts his movements when you moan. He coos mockingly against your ear. "Keep reading, baby. Otherwise, I wouldn't know what to do."

"H-Haah— H-Hyoma..." Your brows furrow as you desperately look down onto the book to read just to make him continue his motions. "H-He slowly pushes a finger in a-and she feels her walls clamp d-down around— a-ah!"

You halt again when you feel your boyfriend begin ease his middle finger inside you. You twitch, throwing your head back a little against the rest.

"Continue, baby." He requests softly, moaning beside your ear. "C'mon, you can do it. Your pussy's so wet already. Want to feel you more."

You nod shakily, pulling your gaze down onto the book in your hands. Your knuckles tense as you hold the book tightly, almost clumping the edges of the paper.

"H-He— He begins to move his finger deeper before curling it a little to touch the upper w-walls—" You moan as your boyfriend does the exact same thing. The tip of his finger hits a sensitive spot inside you, so you close your eyes tightly and drop the book onto the floor. "H-Hyoma, c-can't go on. Please do something—"

He groans at your words and begin thrusting his finger in and out of your wet pussy; a pool of thick, transparent substance coating his finger. It allows his finger to move in easier as he occasionally curls it to repeatedly touch your sensitive g-spot.

"Fuck, baby. Look how nicely my finger's thrusting inside of you" He groans out deeply, watching his finger go in and out of your pussy. "So fucking wet for me, hm? You get off reading dirty little things like a naughty girl, hm?"

He brings his thumb up to rub your clit as he thrusts his middle finger into you a little faster. Your lips part, pushing your head back against the rest as you spread your legs more. You groan in frustration when he halts his movements to quickly take off your underwear and throwing it against the floor. But it doesn't take long for him to shove his finger in again with the same intensity and same rhythm as he tries to push you towards your high.

His thrusts grow faster, almost slamming finger knuckles-deep inside you. Each impact causes a shock of pleasure to travel through your belly. His thumb goes back to rubbing against your clit, and so you arch into his touch more, moaning loudly.

"Mhm, baby. Bet you feel so good right now, hm?" His words are breathless and a little shaky. "Love hearing your moans while I fuck you with my finger. How much louder will you get if I fuck you with my cock?"

His words shoot right to your pussy as your clit hardens. You throw your hands onto your breasts under your shirt, pinching and rolling your nipples before rubbing the puffy buds up and down with your middle fingers.

His pinkish-ruby eyes stare down at your appearance with palpable lust. "Shit, you look so cute right now. So pretty while fondling with your tits like that."

His finger thrusts against your sensitive spot repeatedly and you twitch.

"Gonna cum, baby? Go on and cum—" Your pussy pulses repeatedly around his finger before liquid gushes out, spraying onto his arm and hands. His eyes widen at the sight of you squirting. He rides out your orgasm with more slow rhythmic thrusts, watching the liquid squirt out bit my bit every time he pulls his finger back. "Shiiit! Oh yeah baby, look at that— she's gushing for me."

You twitch as you slowly come down from your high and as the last drops of liquid spilling out of you. You breathe in and out deeply, falling against your boyfriend's shoulder limply, thighs twitching every now and then.

"Let me get you a towel, okay?" He takes a pillow and places it beside you so you could lean onto it before standing up. He comes back and begins wiping your legs before moving to wipe your inner thighs gently. He folds it neatly and grabs your underwear on the floor, tucking it between the folded towel. He throws the cloths onto the wash before coming back to sit beside you.

"Thanks, Hyoma." You breathe out with a small smile.

He winks. "So... you read erotica, huh?"

"Shut up."

[venusxstars]

planning to write a chigiri smut?! imagine reading an adult romance book on the couch and just as you get to the steamy part, pretty boyfriend hyoma pops up from behind you and sees what you're reading. he smirks, grabbing your book from you and begins reading the book. soon enough, this man's fucking you exactly the way the characters are doing it on the book, using it as a guide.

frothing in the mouth at the idea. i'm writing this today, so stay tuned, my pretty darlings!

[venusxstars]

real or not real — nagi seishiro x reader !

warnings. indecent language, ooc nagi.

tropes. meet-ugly, enemies to lovers.

you hate nagi seishiro.

he was stone cold, often referred to as socially awkward— but you feel like those were just excuses to make up for his rude and nasty behavior. personally, you think he’s overrated just because he’s considered a soccer genius. of course, no one ever believes you. they think your hatred clouds your judgement (it obviously does not).

you first met him when you were in grade school, deskmates for the first day of class. he was shorter than you at that time, but aside from his height, everything about him stayed the same. he still has the same gunmetal gray eyes that’s either reflected with boredom or reflected by the screen of his gray nintendo gameboy. he still has the same white hair, as clean as the first drop of snow, but as wild as a lion’s mane.

to you, there was absolutely nothing about him that’s fascinating— he was the same as any average boy. playing mobile games was his favorite past time, so much so that you believed that it was his lifeline at one point. or so you’d assume. he always kept to himself and was left to his own devices (quite literally), most things that kids enjoy don’t seem to pique his interest. you guess those were the reasons why he didn’t have many friends.

no, scratch that— he didn’t have any friends.

at first you wondered why. if there’s one thing you noticed about him even at a very young age, it’s that he’s handsome. he doesn’t have to be the “rich kid” with amazing gadgets and fancy toys, or the “cool kid” who knows what right words to say and way to say it, but he’s nagi. he was conventionally attractive without even trying. however, that fact doesn’t seem to make up for the fact that he looks lonely.

so, you’ve devised a plan to talk to him.

“hey. sei-chan, wanna be my friend?” you’re everyone’s friend. the sunshine child, the one who always lends her classmate crayons or pencils, the kid with pigtails who smile at strangers for no reason. you’re the kid that everyone loves, and if by some miracle, someone hates you (which has never happened and will never happen)— everyone would simply take your side. you’re loved by all.

if nagi was shocked by your sudden proposal, his features didn’t show any signs of it. what he does is pause his current game and faces you. it’s the first time you’ve ever stared at him eye-to-eye. your heart jumps.

uh oh. is this what they call a crush?

eyes filled with hope, you patiently waited for nagi’s response. you expected him to utter “sure” wearing his usual monotone voice, but it doesn’t come. and what he says instead ruins you. your heart does a somersault and tumbles, crashing onto the pavement and breaking into tiny, gliterring pieces. it did not feel good.

“no thanks. i despise people like you.”

you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong at that very moment. maybe you were too blunt, too cheery, too whatever — just something too much to be able to upset someone like nagi seishiro, who doesn’t feel strongly about anything or anyone. you didn’t have the courage to ask him what you’ve done wrong because your vision blurs. you always reckoned that it was due to anger, but your mother who saw you run home with tear-streaked cheeks says otherwise.

you still don’t know how you managed to piss off nagi, even until your very first year of college. after grade school, you never saw him again. you heard he studied at some prestigious high school but that was the end of it, you never really asked because you had no interest whatsoever. you somehow managed to assure yourself that there was no way you’d ever cross paths with him once again— so why is he here?

why, of all places, would he be your deskmate for your politics class?

at this point, you thought maybe the gods above despised you, too. did they hate you enough to not only be schoolmates, not only be classmates with this man, but to be deskmates? hate is the only logical explanation for this fucked-up coincidence. you’re not keen on fates or invisible strings so you’re sure this was just a punishment for you.

oh god. you hate it so much. you hate him so much.

without a word, you took the seat right next to him, taking the opportunity while he’s sound asleep. you’re not sure why he would take politics as his subject, because as far as you know about him, all he ever cares about is his mobile games. maybe soccer as well, but that’s not exactly related to politics, either.

when the professor enters the class, you found no reason to wake him up. he could get screamed at for all you care, but there was no way you’d ever converse with him at your own accord. because the only way you’d ever survive sitting next to him for the whole semester is by not acknowledging him at all. you can do that. you can avoid talking or looking at him. he’s not that talkative (and he’s not even awake) to begin with.

until your plan crashes and burns.

he turns out to be your partner for a school project— a big one, at that. you considered going solo, but the whole point of the project is to make sure two people are working together. it was a community development kind of plan, so unless he works with you and you work with him, you’d be getting an F for your politics class. that, you can’t have. even if it meant talking to him and enduring his presence.

he wakes up right after the class ended and you could barely contain your scoff. he sat through the whole 2 hour lecture just like that, does he have no care for his grades? doesn’t matter. it’s none of your business if he fails, that simply means that you won’t see him much anymore (which is a win for you).

you sighed. he should’ve been paired with someone else. why did it have to be you? why did it have to be your deskmate? and why did he have to be your deskmate? it was too much. how could you ever work with someone you hate? with someone who hates you?

you’re going to fail politics. you’re 100% sure of that. there was just no way that you’d ever accomplish this task— or you could beg your professor to let you switch partners. or you could ask your classmates to let you switch... but who would ever want someone as lazy as nagi to be their partner? fuck.

from the corner of your eye, you saw nagi yawn. it took all of you to swallow your pride whole and gulp it down to ever approach him, but it’s better than not trying. if you fail, at least you tried. even if it meant battling your inner demons.

so, clutching your bag straps tightly as if it would ever help, you turned to your sleepy deskmate. “nagi. it seems like we’re partners for the politics subject. i’m expecting you’d cooperate willingly so that—”

“sorry,” he interrupts with half lidded eyes. “do i know you?”

“you’re going to rip your paper to shreds.” nagi commented from behind you, peering over your shoulder as you aggressively wrote on your notebook. you imagined the page to be nagi’s face as you cruelly stabbed it, not caring about your pen or your paper’s state. you cannot believe that for some reason, you’re still stuck with the snow white haired guy. you’ve tried everything there is to get rid of him but nothing seemed to work.

“right,” your teeth could break with how hard you clenched your jaw. “will you be free later?”

“oh. i have soccer training.”

of course he fucking has soccer training.

you gave him the strongest deadpan you could muster before exhaling a deep breath. once to calm yourself down, twice to clear your head and thrice in hopes of losing all of your lungs’ air so you could shrivel and die on the spot. nagi seems to be unaware of your thoughts— and even if he had understood your facial expression and body language, he simply did not care.

“i’ll be free after, though.” he adds, as if you’d ever know that information if he hasn’t uttered it. this at least gives you the sense that he might care about the group project, and that he won’t be a complete inconvenience.

“okay. let’s meet up at the coffee shop near school. will you be done at 8?”

“yeah. but,” he pauses. “i thought we’d just do the project at my place.”

“who died and made you king?” you blurt out before you could think of a proper response. you wondered if you’d ever feel so strongly about a person the same way you did for nagi. he was driving you mad.

“what?” his clueless face almost made you feel guilt— almost. but you ignored the sensation and frowned instead. the least you could do was give him a clearer sentence:

“there’s no way i’d ever step a foot at your house.”

“it’s fine. no one’s home anyway.”

“that’s even worse.”

“huh? oh. don’t worry. you’re not my type.”

the conversations you somehow hold with nagi infuriates you. he has this way of making you feel like shit for some reason, and he does it with so much nonchalance you’d wonder if he insults everyone. but you know better and you know he definitely doesn’t, because you’re the only one he treats like this. it’s the absolute worst.

what does he mean you’re not his type? were you not pretty enough? not tall enough? not skinny enough? not fair enough? not what? ever since grade school, you’ve always thought that he sees you as someone “too much” and yet as he stands here with you, in an empty classroom— you wondered how you could be “too much” and yet be “not enough” at the same time.

and since when did you care about how he views you? since you were kids, apparently. because the words he would utter up until this day shatters you all the same. and you hate him— so goddamn much. but beyond all that anger, there’s grief. it doesn’t subside even as you grabbed all your things and shoved 6”3 foot tall nagi aside.

for some reason, he shows up at the café you mentioned at exactly 8 o’clock in the evening. you were typing away on your laptop, while a cup of caramel macchiato and a bunch of scattered papers littered your desk. you didn’t expect him to come, and it would’ve been better if he didn’t. but somehow, he’s here and he looks a little apologetic.

“are you upset?” he asks. his sports bag slumped over his shoulder as he stands right next to you. there’s an unoccupied seat in front but he doesn’t take it— at least, not yet. his whole, undivided attention was poured onto you and you alone. it makes you squirm in your seat, so you decided not to look up from your screen to greet him.

“no. take a seat.”

“you look upset.”

“do you want me to be upset?”

“no.”

“then shut up.”

wordlessly, he takes the seat right in front of you and slouches. he looks battered and fatigued from practice, but he doesn’t say a word to complain (to your absolute shock). you guessed that he walked straight from the field to the café without even changing or taking a shower, because his clothes clung to him like a shirt a few sizes smaller.

“shouldn’t you go change?”

“yeah. but i left my clean clothes at my apartment.”

fifteen minutes pass and you suddenly closed your laptop shut, eyes fixated on nagi’s gunmetal gray ones. he looks surprised from your sudden move, a look that you didn’t expect to recognize due to how miniscule it was. you felt bad for him. the café was getting too cold for comfort and all he wore was his jersey (one that’s drenched with his sweat). if you stayed any longer, he’d probably catch a cold.

why you care, however, that was not a question you could currently answer.

“let’s just go to your place.”

despite his constant need to laze around, his place wasn’t a complete mess— well, yes, there are (presumably dirty) clothes on the floor and used dishes on the sink, but you’ve seen worse. you expected his apartment to be so much worse. it seems like he’s not a complete monkey to not understand basic hygiene and cleanliness.

your only problem is that nagi seems to be bored. you caught him dozing off the coffee table as you ramble about your politics project, and you don’t even have to ask if he cares at all— because he’s trying to hide his obvious distate and boredom. so, even though you’d rather proceed to do your work rather than humoring this 6 foot tall giant, you pipe up:

“wanna play a game?”

“what game? i don’t like games that require effort.”

“it’s called real or not real. we take turns in guessing if the other person’s sentence is real or not real.”

“sounds like a pain.” he groans.

“you know what truly is a pain?” you turned to look at him. “this politics project. so take it or leave it. i’m kind enough to give you a break.”

“shouldn’t we play a different game? a mobile game, maybe.”

“what about a wager, then? the winner’s the boss.”

the game was a piece of cake— to you, at least. nagi’s an open book and it’s easy to read him. you explained that the mechanics goes like this: you take turns in giving very specific sentences about yourself, and the other party has to guess whether it’s real or not real. five wrong guesses means that the other person wins. so the only thing you have to do is to make sure that nagi loses first.

unfortunately, you were down to four mistakes while nagi only had one. the game wasn’t going like how you imagined it would be. how were you supposed to know that nagi keeps a cactus as a pet? how were you supposed to know that he only figured out how to play soccer when he was in high school? how were you supposed to know that he’s got a picture of his crush under his study table? (you still had no idea who that crush is, and it quite literally shocked you). how were you supposed to know that someone like nagi seishiro, was capable of liking someone romantically?

on the other hand, out of the six sentences you threw at him— he had only guessed wrong once. you don’t know how he’s so good at this game, too. it was either he knew awfully a lot about you, or was really good at second guessing things. you’re pretty sure it was the former. how could he know a lot about you, when he doesn’t even know your name?

“real or not real: i hate you.” you stated. his nonchalance was putting you off, but you’re not sure if you were uneasy because of it or if you felt guilty for saying that sentence out loud. you told yourself you could just take it back and act as if it’s not real but nagi himself looked so convinced when he said:

“real.”

he was right once again. but you didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whole thing when his sentence comes.

“real or not real: i want to kiss you right now.”

the silence was so loud it pierces your ears— or maybe you have gone deaf with that sentence. you’re not sure of anything at the moment because it feels like your senses were slowly slipping from your own fingers. if nagi was joking, his face didn’t show any signs of him laughing soon. but maybe you should know better, maybe he could joke like that with a straight face.

so you waited for a few minutes, for him to tell you that it was a joke— that it’s not part of the goddamn game because how could it be part of it? but nothing comes. his eyes were simply on you as he patiently awaits your answer. your make it or break it answer, at that. and it only dawns on you that this is real, this is his sentence and he’s expecting you to play. he’s expecting you to answer real or not real. because you were the one who proposed the game in the first place.

you wanted to scream and to run away, but you were rooted on the spot. time stood still and it froze you under nagi’s unblinking gunmetal gray eyes, as if the situation’s not bad at all. but this is a trick question, your rational mind says. he told you when you were younger that he despises people like you, asked you if he knows you upon meeting at your politics class, and told you that you’re not exactly his type— so there’s no way he’d want to kiss you. right?

you meet his gaze. right, nagi?

against your better judgement to think it through, you suddenly blurted: “real.”

his face doesn’t shift and nor did the mood of the room. your heart was beating erratically as if you’re not facing the guy you clearly hated with a passion, but the silence ensues. you were screaming at yourself, why the fuck did you say real? were you out of your goddamned mind? were you crazy? the answer’s clearly not real!

nagi, however, only looks away. “huh.”

“what?”

“i almost won. what a pity.”

“the answer’s real?”

“yeah.” he tilts his head and answers as if you were stupid. as if you were the one who’s weird and doesn’t get what’s happening— but maybe that really is the case. because you’re mind hasn’t caught up yet. what does he mean the answer’s real? does that mean he wants to kiss you, right now? how is that possible after all the things he had said to you?

you laugh. not the quiet giggle or the chuckle you were accustomed to doing, but a belly laugh— one that could rival a hyena’s. because this was funny. too funny. he’s definitely joking and you’ve only figured out that now.

“okay, fine. you got me.”

“what do you mean?”

“the joke. you’re so serious that i almost missed it.”

confusion marrs his face. “what joke?”

“about the kiss.”

“i wasn’t joking.”

“well, i’d rather have you joking than for that sentence to be real.”

“you hate me that much?”

he almost sounds hurt, but you knew better. how could he be hurt, out of all people? if there’s anyone who’s hurt, it would be you. how can he say all those hurtful things with so much nonchalance and tell you things like he wants to kiss you? how cruel must he be to toy with you like this? it was not funny. none of this was funny.

and it reminds you of your childhood— of your little crush on nagi that never seemed to go away. somehow, the little you screams that you should not fall for something like this. that it is easier to hate nagi than to love him. that it is easier to stand up from your seat, smile, and tell him: “yeah. i do.”

it has been a week. maybe two. or three? you’ve lost count. you’ve never visisted nagi again after the whole real or not real game, and you never saw him often because he’s been excused. something about soccer championship that you didn’t bother listening to. besides, you liked the comfortable silence now that he’s not around.

your phone dings. and it’s from an unknown number. but somehow, you guessed it has something to do with nagi.

unknown

real or not real: i’m sorry

oh. that’s right. the game technically hasn’t finished yet because no one has won. you told yourself numerous time that you won’t reply to his message, but against your better judgement, you somehow still did.

you

real

when your class ended, nagi seishiro was right outside. he was panting and sweaty— as if he ran just to get where you were. but this is nagi we’re talking about. there’s no way he’d actually do something like that, despite his lingering look on you. what’s that supposed to mean, anyway?

breathless, he speaks up to catch your attention. you were busy stuffing your books inside your locker, back against him as you completely ignored his presence. you did not say hi. you did not meet his gaze. but even without direct contact, your heart was drumming against your rib just by knowing that he’s near. what the heck.

“we won the game.”

there’s a lot of responses that entered your mind at that very moment. entry #1, who asked? entry #2, who cares? entry #3, why are you telling me this? and the list goes on. you’re pretty sure none of them were positive— but this was all so confusing. why was nagi chasing after you like a lost puppy who lost its mom? what’s he going for here?

“that’s good for you.” you slammed your locker shut and walked away. nagi eventually follows after you, as if there’s something in his throat that he wants to let out, but you didn’t give him the chance to. you’re sure nothing that would come out of his mouth is good. you’re sure he’s running after you because of the politics project, or because he wants to annoy you.

and you hate it. you hate him. your gut twists at the thought of him running after you like this is some shoujo manga and that’s the annoying part. how is your heart flipping with your every waking step if you hate him so much? you’re supposed to hate nagi, god fucking damn it.

you finally stop in your tracks, whipping around to face the 6 foot tall soccer player. to get it all over with.

“is there something you need to tell me?”

“we haven’t finished the game.”

“i don’t care about the game. leave me alone.”

“it’s your turn. your real or not real.”

this was stupid no matter what angle you look at it. it was just some game you made up and decided to try with nagi. it didn’t mean anything to you because all you wanted by then was to get his attention, so why did it matter so much to him? you don’t get it. you’re not sure how nagi circuits because everything he does confuses you. and before you know it, your irrational side takes over. reason left your body when you blurted the words:

“stop it. fucking stop this.”

why are you so persistent?

“was it fun to toy with me? was it fun when you told me you despised me when we were kids? was it fun when you told me i was not your type? i don’t fucking get it.”

you were angry. mad. seething. your blood boiled underneath your skin and you feared that it would leave your whole being in nothing but dust. through it all, you’re also confused. perplexed. lost. your mind can’t understand the fine line between hate and love anymore. your feelings overlap with each other and merges— you’re not sure what you’re feeling now. you’ve wondered how long you’ve buried this string of emotions you’ve had for nagi. that would explain why you’re nothing but a ticking time bomb now.

“if my playing with my feelings give you so much fun— then do it elsewhere. i have no time for things like this, nagi.”

“but i’m not playing, though. i’ve liked you for quite awhile now.”

excuse me?

“oops. i accidentally gave the answer to my next sentence. what a pain,” he scratches the nape of his nexk and looks away.

how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that?

“do you expect me to believe you?”

“i’ve got no reason to lie,” he shrugs. “plus, lying’s a pain. i don’t like it.”

“but— what you said back then...”

“i, well. i go blank when i talk to you. i guess. my stomach flips when you’re around and my throat goes dry.” nagi doesn’t look at you once while he utters this. tinge of red coats the tip of his ears and this is where you think ‘this is it’. he’s not lying. this is real, and you know that much— nagi never looked nervous until now. you think maybe that explains why he would avoid your gaze and why he would say the most confusing things. you think maybe this is nagi. the socially awkward nagi. the one who can’t talk to people properly nagi.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty. i despise pretty things because it makes me feel things. it’s a pain.” he mumbles. “of course i know you. of course i know your name. but it’s the first thing i thought to say because your face was too close. you’re prettier up close.”

he should stop talking. he should drop it all together and just kiss you, but you could never say these words because you haven’t wrapped your head around the whole thing yet. nagi likes you. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi short circuits when you’re around. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi’s actually confessing. nagi likes you. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes you.

“i don’t like pretty things. that’s not my type at all. but reo said i might be in love with you.” he finally turns to look at you and tilts his head. your face burns— and you swore it was because of the remnants of your anger, but everyone else could tell that it was not. your heart does a somersault, but this time it does not drop. it stays in the air, lingering like nagi’s perfume scent, until he carefully waits for it to land on his palms when he said: “i think he’s right. i’m in love with you.”

for the duration of your game with nagi and with all the truths shared between the both of you— this is probably the most real out of them. this is the only time he doesn’t ask the question ‘real or not real’ because his face says it all. his face says that it’s the real and raw truth. his face says that you must believe this because he’s not making it up. it was the first time you could read his expression. it was the first time that you’re not confused by nagi.

“fucking dumbass,” you comment. “that’s not how it works.”

you reach over to grab his collar, on your highest tip-toes because of his height. you’re pretty sure you’re the only ones present in the secluded corridor but the clamors of your heart makes an illusion of people cheering for you. somewhere in the parallel worlds of your universe, you think maybe those cheers exist. it only silences when you pulled nagi down with you, whispering:

“i hope you still want to kiss me, then.”

when he closes in the gap between the both of you, his answer was loud and clear.

i do. always.

notes. YES YES YES i finally finished this long ass fic! i’ve been writing it since forever & im just SO glad i finally get to finish it 🥹 as u can see, there is nothing on my mind rn but nagi seishiro. he’s literally living in my head rent-free and i’m not complaining. i love him too much. i hope u enjoyed this ‼️ as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you so so much for ur patience & love for this blog ❤️

ִ ࣪𖤐 masterlist !

[venusxstars]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇! ⸻ nsfw.

itoshi sae × fem!reader

keynotes ⸻ dom itoshi sae. slight mention of penetration. clit stimulation. nipple play. praise. dirty talking. thigh humping. wherein you have a hard time cumming from finger to clit stimulation and penetration, so sae let's you do what you think feels best for you.

venus' note ⸻ just wanted to put this here since everyone's bodies don't work and feel the same. what may be pleasurable for others may not be for you, and that's normal. ( also, sae's thighs are so thick & hot i wanna smother my face— )

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK—" Sae breathy groans brushes against the side of your ear as his cock pounds into you desperately. "So fucking tight around my cock, shiiit—"

You moan softly in response, his obscene words shooting directly through your pussy, but nothing too good enough to pull you closer to the edge. You feel as if you're simply standing at the edge of a cliff, but never actually falling into a sort of mind-blanking orgasm that you hear your friends and other people in the internet talk about.

Your brows furrow, gripping his shoulders tighter with your nails digging against his skin. You buck your hips upward in need and this causes your boyfriend to pound into you harder.

"I'm gonna fucking cum, baby— fuck! cum for me please, cum with me—" He licks his middle and index finger and brings it to your clit, rubbing fast circles. "Come on, baby— you can do it—"

You clench your pussy purposely tighter, bucking your hips more as you feel his cock twitch inside you. You bite your lip, tearing up a little as he pulls out to shoot spurts of cum all over your stomach, squeezing and pumping his dick to ride out his own orgasm.

You lay down on the bed, frustrated and frowning. Why is it that nothing seems to work? You've gone and went to different websites, obtaining knowledge on your own anatomy and learning about other people's sex experiences to guide you, but nothing seems to work in bed with your boyfriend. You clench the sheets tighter, frowning further.

"Is there something wrong with me?" Your words tumble out of your mouth before you could think about it further.

You jolt when a hand lightly chops your forehead. You turn your gaze up to see your boyfriend staring blankly at you, now calming down from his high but still breathing heavily.

"There's nothing wrong with you, stupid." He shakes his head.

"T-Then, why didn't I—" You halt, scratching your head in irritation.

"Hey, hey, relax." He catches your hand and gently places it down on the bed. "Everyone's bodies are different."

"I know, it's just..." You sigh. "It still doesn't change the fact that I'm pretty boring in bed."

He lightly sends a chop on your head again you pout. "You're not boring in bed." A light shade of red spreads across the apples of his cheeks as he mutters under his breath. "You're the only person who's ever made me feel this way. Now..."

You gasp when he pulls you to sit up, running his palms against the side of your neck as he gazes at you intensely with his greenish-cerulean eyes. He tilts your head up with a thumb to your chin, and soon, he's pulling you in for a soft kiss. You move closer, clenching your thighs together tightly as the earlier frustration blooms into your body once more.

He pulls away a few minutes later, a string of saliva stretching between your previously connected lips. His lips then lands onto your neck, licking and nipping at the skin lightly, causing you to moan.

"Let's find out what makes you feel good" He rasps out and bites the shell of your ear.

Your fingers dig onto his back and pull him closer. You gasp once more when his hands that were once holding the back of your neck and your waist moves up to grasp your breasts suddenly. His hands hovering ever so slightly against your puffy nipples, poke against the center of his palms before he's grasping your breasts completely. His hands are rough against your skin, kneading the flesh and pinching the little swollen buds.

Your lips part as a moan erupts from your throat.

"How do you touch yourself, baby? How do you make yourself cum? Come on, tell me" He breathes out against your ear roughly, still kneading your tits.

"A-Ah—" All that you could seem to respond with are soft noises and unintelligible words.

He halts and pinches your nipples a little harder all of a sudden, causing you to gasp. "Come on, baby, tell me. Do you shove your fingers up into your cute cunt?"

You shook your head shakily as he continues to pinch your nipples.

"Then what?" He licks the side of your neck before biting and sucking onto the skin. "Can't help you if you won't tell me"

He pulls you to sit on his lap and grabs your ass as he continues to place kisses on your neck and collarbone. You buck your hips a little against his and he pulls back slightly with a groan. His eyes are half-lidded as he smirks. "Bet you like to hump my pillow whenever I'm away."

Your hips move as you paw at his shoulders, trying to gain more friction.

"Oh? So I'm right?" He chuckles, adjusting your position so your straddling his left thigh. He clenches his muscle and push you down with hands on your ass. He feels a slight pulse coming from your pussy and he smirks. "I'm right, hm? Come on. Use me then, baby. Bet I feel a thousand times better than just my fucking pillow."

You whine, bucking your hips against his muscled thighs and placing your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. Fuck, he was so right. Not just in the aspect of humping his pillow while he was away, but also the fact that he feels a thousand times better. You twitch, moving your hips desperately, wetting his thigh with your arousal.

"Fuck, she's drooling for me, baby" He grunts against your ears, getting you even more riled up. He dips his head down and catches one of your nipples between his teeth before he's sucking and biting on it.

"H-Haah, S-Sae!"

He hums against your breast, eyes pinned to your face to watch your expressions contort to one of pleasure. "Hm? Yes, baby? Talk to me."

You only respond with a moan, throwing your head back and pushing your chest against him more. You buck your hips desperately, and when he notices that you were losing your rhythm, he guides your hips with his hands on your waist. He pulls you down against his thigh further, your cunt brushing against his skin more.

"A-Ah!"

"Good?" He chuckles breathlessly, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. He brushes his hair back quickly before continuing to guide your hips. "Look at you... so pretty humping my thigh like a bunny in heat. You like that hm?"

You bite your lip hard, sliding your cunt back and forth against his thigh with a slight bounce, and with each time your clit slaps lightly against his skin, a shock of pleasure runs through your belly. The pleasure multiplies as his mouth comes in contact with your neck again as one of his hands play with your breast and while the other grips your hips tightly.

"I-I'm gonna—"

"Gonna cum?" He rasps, lips more desperate against your neck. "Come on, baby, cum for me. You can do it, fucking cum. Yeah, just like that..."

You twitch before your pussy stutters as your orgasm washes over you like a strong tidal wave, rushing all over your body. You shake a little, riding your orgasm with slow bucks of your hips before you eventually calm down and fall onto the bed. Your chest rise and fall deeply as you lay down in exhaustion.

You make eye contact with your boyfriend and he sends you a wink with his expressionless face. "Knew you could do it."

You throw a pillow onto his face.