Where have you been these past few days, I wondered, and then I realized you were taking exams. I wish you good luck! All A+, 100/100!!!!
Afterwards, please come back to us girlie and drop us another Rock Lee fic. Can I ask for something? Like when he hasn't seen his girlfriend for 5 days and he can't take it anymore 😋?? I love you and your fic
— threads | rock lee ˎˊ˗
pairing: rock lee x fem!reader
content: established relationship, porn with plot, soft dom!lee, lee is freaked out, descriptions of masturbation, kissing, making out, lee giving hickeys, lee giving praise, dry-humping, pussyjob, cumshots, body worship, lee being a slight tease, oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, crying during sex, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
w/c: 5.7k words
ˎˊ˗ art credit: @virtuno on twitter
five days.
as a successful ninja, lee knew that five days was, objectively, nothing.
there were shinobi who would leave their villages to embark on missions lasting for weeks on end, sometimes spanning into months if it proved to be considerably challenging. on many occasions in the past, lee sustained wounds, cuts, and bruises that took longer than five days to heal. throughout history, there were wars and battles that raged for five years and beyond that, nevermind a mere five days.
with that logic, five days without your presence should have been exceptionally easy to endure.
except, it wasn't. by the first night of his mission, lee could already hear the sound of your voice humming a million melodies in his mind, like an echo chamber driving him into hypnosis. imagining the way you sound would not be enough, and it wouldn't ever be. he won't settle, not until he can have your lips a thread away from his lended ear, whispering all the things he wants to hear.
by the second night, the absence of your warm body next to him in bed made him restless. lee had never really considered himself a particularly needy person, but his tactile fantasies were keen on disproving that notion. all those little touches he took for granted, he needed. in this moment, the ordinary began to feel special. he craved the weight of your hands slipping into his palms. he wanted to feel your legs grazing against his own when you sit next to each other; your head resting against his shoulder; and your playful shoves whenever he said something you found funny. he wanted those simplicities back now more than ever.
and if the second night wasn't already intolerable, the third day of separation became even more so.
lee started to look for you in the mundane.
whether it was a street vendor serving your favourite snack, or seeing a pretty flower that managed to capture your energy in every petal, you would taunt him by showing up everywhere without actually being here. if at any time anybody spoke, he would take an upwards glance, half-expecting you to be the one speaking, even if the odds of it being you were slim. and when nightfall arrived, he would fall into the exact same ritual, except this time, he’d be peeling back the blankets constantly in the hopes of finding you underneath them, laying next to him between the sheets.
the fourth and final night was agonisingly slow, and the most torturous of them all. lee’s thoughts continued to grow more and more dangerous as the night aged. he had a hankering for the more provocative, more sensual touches you lavished him in. he wanted to drink up the taste of your lips, to hold onto the flesh of your figure, and to knead your skin under his fingertips. lee sighs. he both loved and hated how vivid his imagination could be. he loved how warm you made his heart feel, but he could almost hate how you made his blood boil with sickly desire, to the extent of him kicking his blanket off his body. he stares down in the darkness at the soft grey fabric tented over his hard dick, feeling conflicted by equal parts discipline and equal parts self-indulgence. making this wild decision would be easy so late at night. he could quickly pull down his boxers, stroke himself to completion, and sleep it off. it wouldn't matter much. he'd be absolved of his act by the time he wakes up, but what's the point? you're only a day—no—a few hours away, he reminds himself. losing control now, of all times and so soon, would be meaningless. there's nothing he can do other than sleep. he decides to conclude his thoughts for the night before draping the blanket back over himself. lee hopes that when he opens his eyes, morning will be there to greet him instead of a night interrupted by his own sleeplessness.
lee's hopes had worked.
at long last, the morning of the fifth day was finally here.
the mission was accomplished, and it had finished simply without complication. there were no noteworthy threats, or any major causes of concern to be intercepted. while it was undeniably good news, lee couldn't bring himself to properly celebrate that. he didn't care about reports or anything of the sort. you were finally within reach, and it was the only thing he could think about. the true celebration would take place at your doorstep upon reunion, so it was only natural that lee would sprint back to konoha as if you'd disappear if he wasted any time. he was fueled by nothing but raw longing for you, and his heart pounded harder and harder with every step. when he passed through the village gates, it felt like he had tunnel vision. that sprint of his turned to a brisk walk where his surroundings were blurred, with his focus exclusively on the path leading to your house.
when lee rounded the final corner, he froze.
there you were. stood in the hallway with the door wide open, just for him.
you look like something divine to lee right now, with the afternoon sunlight kissing your skin and turning you to gold. he couldn't fathom how within the space of five days, you somehow managed to look even more beautiful than he had recalled. the relief of seeing you whole crashed over him in a wave so intense, that it stole his breath. he only started to breathe again when his eyes met yours. the moment he made eye contact, every ounce of discipline he spent cultivating on that mission shattered.
"hi, lee." you smiled.
the first thread of restraint snapped.
lee crossed the distance between you in a matter of seconds before you could even finish saying his name. his arms wrapped tightly around your body, and the sheer force of his embrace almost knocked you off of your feet. he barely gave you any time to react, and if it weren't for your quick reflexes, you would've tipped over and fallen flat on your back.
"lee!" you speak in-between bouts of laughter. "i'm here, i'm here."
he's not registering a single word you're saying. he's busy burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the memory of your scent like oxygen. for five days, he imagined this moment. five days of wondering, worrying, and wanting you so badly that it made his chest hurt. now that you were finally here, he couldn't bring himself to let go of you. even loosening his grip would be a crime.
"you know, lee," you tease, rubbing his back. "most people say hi back."
his answer came out muffled against your skin. "i am saying hi!"
lee raises his head from the junction between your neck and shoulders, and presses his cheek against yours before speaking gently in your ear. "i missed you," the words feel heavy with the weight of five years as opposed to five days. "i missed you so much, y/n," he repeats, breathlessly. his hands travel to the small of your back, and he presses you flush against him. chest-to-chest, you can feel his heart pounding against his ribs. "i needed you."
"i know, baby," you chuckle softly.
"no," lee swallows at the pet name falling from your lips. he missed that more than he thought. he separates his cheek from yours to look at your face. "you do not understand. it felt longer than five days, y/n."
the intensity of his words invites an atmosphere that feels heavier than before. it compels you to stop your laughter, and instead, enter a light silence. for a moment you both remain still, breathing in each other's air, and standing too close to each other for comfort, but you both wouldn't want it any other way. right now, lee wanted to regain some semblance of control, but it was futile. he's helplessly drawn to you—your touch, your voice, your comfort he missed out on for five days. the truth hit him with startling force, and the truth was that he wanted to ravage you.
lee's gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back up to your eyes. you noticed. the corner of your mouth curved upwards in response. that was all the permission lee needed from you.
the second thread of restraint snapped.
the space between your faces is sealed the instant lee's lips crash into yours. your hands roam over the back of his neck, with your fingers digging into his nape. the force of the collision is enough to make him spill a whine against your lips. you part them wider, wanting to take more of him into your mouth as he presses harder and harder against you.
lee is not a stranger to the warmth of your mouth, nor is he new to the taste of your tongue as it swirls around his, and yet, the sensation is like nothing he could've ever imagined on those five days away from you. you are beyond imagination, and you always exceed expectation. the sensation spreads underneath his flesh and through his veins, satiating the relentless hunger that had been driving him crazy for the duration of that mission. 120 hours, all released in a single instant. his hands—large and concealed with bandages that cover a story of scars—find the soft plush of your ass with a firmness. a hum rumbles deep in his chest, sending a vibration against your lips as he squeezes the flesh. it's exactly how he dreamt it would be.
you didn't fight the iron grip on your wrists as his roaming hands moved from your ass. the strength of his body pinned you right against the wall, and he silenced all of your breathless whimpers with kiss after bruising kiss. you experimentally tugged your wrists away from him, but you notice that his hold doesn't falter. his hands don't move, not even by an inch.
the sudden resistance prompts lee to loosen his grip and slowly break the kiss, just long enough to breathe against your lips. he pulls back slightly, with his dark eyes wide, scanning your face with his chest heaving.
"please tell me if i am being too forward with you, my flower," he panted. "tell me to stop, and i will. i… i have missed you to the point of madness."
and if you were being completely honest, you loved it when lee was like this. you loved it when he reminded you that he could effortlessly overpower you. it made your pussy throb with want seeing your boyfriend, a man renowned for his extraordinary discipline, coming undone at the mere sight of you. nothing could possibly be 'too forward' if it were him.
"now that you are here," he continues, "i want nothing more than to show you love. i need you." his voice is such a soft thing, tinged with desperation. "i really need you."
hearing his vulnerable confession, and looking up into his puppy-like eyes made your heart feel sore. he could have you in an instant, but still, he insists on remaining at your mercy. you didn't want him to stop though, not now, not ever—you had to let him have you. you decide to press your body closer into his, completely yielding to his strength. when you give your answer, you never once shift your gaze from his.
"i don't want you to stop, lee. just take me."
the third and final thread of restraint snapped.
lee's hands abandon your wrists, and in one fluid motion, he lifts you off your feet as if you weigh nothing to carry. it's like a reflex when you wrap your arms around his neck, and lock your ankles around his waist. his hands find purchase beneath your thighs, and he doesn't waste any time in racing to your bedroom. the movement is swift, sharpened by years of testing the limits of his speed. he kicks the bedroom door open and takes a stride to your bed—still faintly laced with the scent of you exactly as he remembers it. even though his hands are shaking with anticipation, he still lays you down on the mattress with the utmost care, like you're a monument of marble that could crack and break into thousands of fragments.
lee hovers above your laid form, looking down at you with eyes that are committed to storing every part of this moment to his starved memory. your parted lips, slightly swollen from his kisses; the way you flutter your lashes at him with half-lidded eyes; the addictive sound of your soft breaths. he can't resist you any longer.
the world outside the room seems to disappear when he slots his lips in between yours again, more fervent and hungrier than he was earlier. your fingers tangle deep into the thick dark strands of his hair, pulling him closer into you as you match the passion of the kiss. you start to arch your back and buck your hips up against him in the pursuit of more pressure, more contact, the slightest something to ease the throbbing of your cunt. lee presses the weight of his cock—hard and clothed—between your legs, but not before pinning your hips down to prevent you from having your fill. you whine softly in response.
"come on, goddess," he breathes against your neck, kissing the skin there as consolation, "i do not want to deny you either… surely, you can understand." his voice is so gentle, but his actions are less than. he rises, and his bandaged fingers grip onto the waistband of your pants, dragging them down to leave you clad in your underwear. a hum rumbles in his throat when he sees the outline of your labia, soaked and swollen with arousal, through the thin fabric of your panties. "you must have missed me too. isn't that right, y/n?"
"i did, baby," you nod, voice breathy with need. "i'm glad you're here."
"i do not doubt that, my angel."
it's his turn to strip now. he's quick to unfasten his green flak jacket, setting the heavy material aside to reveal his broad chest. your eyes trail downwards, allowing his abs to guide you as they tense and relax with every ragged breath he takes. the outline of his obliques tempt your eyes some more, taking them further south to his adonis' belt. those two lines disappear dangerously low into the waistband of his remaining clothing. you don't have to ask for more. lee is already stepping out of his pants, revealing the bulge thats threatening to escape the confines of his boxers.
"but, i think you doubt just how much i missed you."
lee crawls towards you on the mattress, chasing the gap between your bodies. his warmth is enticing. you're trapped between the stronghold of his arms.
"you were on my mind every second," his breath tickles your skin as he tracks ardent kisses from the chisel of your jawline, down to your collarbones. "you were in my dreams, and now, you are finally in front of me." he rasps, rocking his hard cock against your pussy as if his words barely hold enough conviction. "i really missed you, y/n. really, really missed you."
you feel his hands snake behind your knees, raising your legs and pushing them up as his erection exerts more pressure onto your pussy. your legs rests on his shoulders as he continues. a shiver runs through you when you feel the damp spot of precum seeping through the thin cotton of lee's boxers against you. you're both soaking each other right now, and neither of you can stop the collective outpour of gasps spilling from your lips. the feeling of his hardness rutting against your clothed clit feels heavenly, and all you can do is moan, because you know your boyfriend is far from finished.
the warmth is building up fast. he stops his grinding quickly, just to pull down his boxers and free his cock. you almost want to drool over how it stands on end, how it pulses in the air, and how his flushed tip leaks with desire. he pulls your panties to the side, slipping his hard length in between the lips of your pussy. lee shifts back and forth, allowing you to feel every vein on him as it drags along your clit. you don't know where to look, with your hungry gaze torn between his slick erection as it passes back and forth between your wet core, and his intense face, cast with a light pink flush. lee moans as he meets your eyes.
"you don't know how good you're making me feel, y/n," he whispers.
he kisses at your sternum while bucking his hips against you. the kisses reach the swell of your breasts, and his tongue swipes over one taut nipple before he seals his lips around it. you exhale when he circles his tongue around the sensitive bud, sucking at it with thirst. the suction makes your back arch further against him, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. at that, he decides to pin your wrists up against the mattress to further immobilise you. it makes you moan with need. lee refuses to leave your other breast untouched, and he focuses his attention on it with the exact same passion, with his teeth grazing against it ever so slightly.
you can feel yourself about to cum, and you know that lee is teetering on the edge of his climax too as he struggles to maintain his pace. your body feels unbearably hot, and lee is pressing harder against you like he wants your body to catch flames.
he's overwhelmed at the fact that there's so much of you. those hungry lips of his return to your neck, nipping at the skin there before settling his mouth taut over the expanse of it. he sucks hard against your throat and lingers there indefinitely, nearly consuming you. you can feel his eyelashes brushing over your skin. it adds a new dimension to your indulgence, and you can feel yourself struggling to keep your eyes open against the rapidly approaching waves of pleasure bursting from your core. you're past the point of controlling yourself now, and it's automatic when your orgasm breaks over you, sharp and intense. your legs slips off of his shoulders. your eyes shut tightly. you're clutching on fistfuls of his hair, and every muscle in your body jerks relentlessly, causing the bedsprings let out a creak of protest from beneath you. lee follows up quickly with his own climax as he soaks you with thick, hot spurts of cum that spill on your belly. the suction on your neck stops, and it's instead replaced by lee's warm breath on your skin.
"y/n-" he cuts himself off with a moan against your ear, "do you see what you do to me, my blossom?" he leaves soft pecks along your neck, giving extra to the fresh hickey. lee doesn't intend for it to be teasing, but it feels that way when he slowly rubs his slick-coated cock against your sensitive clit, still pulsating and raw from orgasm. he raises his head to look down at you—more particularly, the love-bite on your neck.
"i can not believe you belong to me," he whispers. "give me a kiss, my love."
the kiss is nothing short of greedy and obscene. you both moan into it, and you can feel the warmth settling deep in your belly once again, despite the fact that lee has just coaxed an orgasm out of you. his tongue slips past yours for a final time before he breaks the kiss.
"perfect," he pecks at your neck, "just like that, y/n. so good." he breathes, beginning a trail of kisses down your chest. each one against your skin feels like heaven as they mark the gentle slope of your belly. the ghost of his breath sets a precedent, warning you before his lips can even land on you. it makes the muscles of your stomach contract with anticipation before each kiss.
"you are truly a beauty," he purrs. "every last part of you." the kisses travel even lower, moving just above the waistband of your panties in an unbroken sequence. lee appears to have predicted your next movements, because his hands have already found the flare of your hips. you sigh with exasperation as you thrust your hips up. all you want to do is move without restraint and ride against his mouth, but he's held you hostage, anchoring your lower body flat against the mattress again.
"please, lee," you sob. "please don't make me wait."
"but you will wait, my angel. just as i have." he fans the flame even further by having the nerve to press a soft kiss to your clit. "you deserve my complete focus. i can't give you my full effort if you rush me. just let me have you, okay?"
you nod, wordlessly.
"i am glad you understand."
lee slides his tongue across your needy pussy, dragging it salaciously in a stripe that stretches from your weeping entrance to your protruding clit. he swallows. you taste like all the things he was so desperately craving in your absence, and its better than anything his mind could have mimicked to fill the you-shaped void he left behind for five days. your essence taste sweet on his tongue, exactly like the feeling of reward after discipline. he makes a vow to himself: he will savour you as to never forget you.
after that one lick, he's insatiable. his mouth engulfs your clit, and you can feel every single nerve being greeted by the slickness of his tongue as it contorts and presses patterns on the very tip of it. lee has only been starved of your proximity, but he slurps and laps away at you as if he has been starved of all sustenance; as if there is no real difference between you, food, and drink. he's not letting you run anywhere. he tugs you by your legs and pushes your cunt further into his face, keeping your thighs elevated against the force of his hands behind your knees.
"fuck, lee," you moan into the air, calling his name like a prayer. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"
he's fighting a losing battle against the sound of your voice. he wantonly moans into you, and the vibrations against your pussy drive you closer to the edge. the room is filled with nothing but your noises at this rate: the noise of your gushing cunt against lee's hungry mouth, the noise of your constant gasps—your moans and your pleas. it's addicting to lee.
he can feel your second orgasm coming to take you by storm. your head throws itself back, your thighs are start to shudder, and your body is beginning to relentlessly writhe with every ruthless flick of his tongue against your sore clit. still, he does not move from the paradise between your thighs. he doesn't care, and he'll continue to have his fill of you until he's satisfied. there is no drop of your slowly trickling essence that goes to waste as his mouth catches it with every hard pulse of your pussy. it's akin to finishing the meal of a lifetime that leaves you licking at a near-empty plate. that unyielding tongue continues to take you through each wave of orgasmic shock until tears fall out of your eyes.
every single nerve is jumping. your heart feels like it's in between your legs, and you aren't sure how long you can stay strong for. unlike you, lee remains adamant and sure of himself. he refuses to let you come down from this high. he starts to curl two fingers inside of you, reaching for that particularly sensitive spot that lies deep in your pussy.
"lee!" you cry out his name. it does nothing to grab his attention.
you're oversensitive, past your limit, and he's still fucking into you with his fingers—still sucking away at you mercilessly. your cries are deafening. they get more and more broken as his fingertips tap that place inside you, over, and over, and over. if he couldn't feel it rising inside of you before, he can feel it rising inside of you now. he's circling his tongue around you determinedly, pressing against that spot, and-
warmth.
the moan you let out is sinful. your body gives out before it locks up a final time, and suddenly, lee's face is covered in a warm gush of you, coating his mouth, dripping from his chin and down onto the mattress. he slows down the pace of his tongue, alongside the pace of his fingers as you clench around him. your boyfriend just made you squirt.
when lee finally pulls his head away, he's looking up at you in awe. you're crying softly, chest heaving, and with eyes shut as tears streak your face. for a moment, he panics, absorbed in the fear that he pushed you too far.
"y/n," lee whispers, crawling towards your face. "are you alright, angel?" his thumbs brush away at your tears.
he reaches for your hands and locks his fingers between yours. when you squeeze his hands, he doesn't even feel the slightest bit reassured. he wouldn't forgive himself if he hurt you.
"please. talk to me, angel." he whispers.
there's a drawn silence, split only by heavy breathing.
"oh my god," you finally manage. your eyes open slowly, cast with a lustful shadow as you blink at him. "that was fucking insane, lee."
the worry lee felt gets washed away with your words. you can taste yourself on his lips as he goes in to give you a kiss.
"it was?" he asks.
"it was." you confirm.
"that makes me feel relieved." he cages you with his body. "there is nothing better than the taste of you. but there is nothing worse than your tears if i am hurting you. i love you, y/n." he whispers against your lips.
"i love you too, lee." your breath exchanges with his.
"i love you so much, and it isn't even close, y/n."
lee has been hard ever since he walked through your door, dying to feel his length burrowed inside you. he can't put the last five days behind him either. he taps the tip of his dick against your still-sensitive clit, wanting a sign from you. a sign that says you'll be merciful enough to accept him in your pussy.
"do you want me? as badly as i want you, sweetness?"
"oh, fuck, lee," you whimper. "yes…"
that's all he needs.
with two orgasms under your belt, lee slides into you with minimal effort. the groan he lets out feels like an expulsion of everything he had buried when he was away. every single ridge of your warm pussy around his cock feels like salvation; like a personal apology from you to him for your absence. before long, his balls are pressed against the cleft of your ass, and he's fully bottomed out against you. every vein, every inch, and every minute pulse as he probes inside you makes you feel complete. you're happy to have him back where he belongs.
his forehead is connected to yours, cemented by the thin sheen of sweat that coats both of your bodies. you remain like that for a few seconds, held captive in each other's gaze. lee starts to move now, beginning with a long, deep stroke from tip to hilt. when his hips slam into yours, the filthiest moan comes out of him.
now that he's finally fucking you, there is nothing you can do to stop him. how many times did he think about this moment on his mission? he couldn't tell you. he doesn't want to be reminded of control or discipline—not when he's pushing himself inside you, hard and fast. your breathless calls and pleas encourage him to fuck his hips deeper into you, with each thrust being more ardent than the last.
his strong hands find the back of your thighs and pushes them upwards, leaving your feet suspended in the air. the position he's folded you in makes you cry out obscenely, and lee knows that from there, he's found the tender spot that drives you wild.
his cock curves in just the right way from this angle. he pounds right into it, over and over without fail until your eyes are fluttering shut; until your teeth are sinking into the flesh of your lower lip; and until your toes are curling with pleasure. it feels like the bed frame is going to fall apart at this rate. his tanned skin is glistening with sweat now, with beadlets flowing down his abs. his hair is dishevelled. you are soaked.
"oh, f-fuck," your words are broken by gasps, "lee, please! don't stop!"
"i would never want to!" air cushions his words as he speaks. "if-if i could, i would stay inside you for a lifetime." he plants a messy kiss on your lips.
when the kiss ends, you slip a hand downwards between your legs and rub away at your clit.
lee may be distracted by your pretty face, and occupied by your warm tightness, but there's no way he's letting that slide. he catches on almost immediately, severing his eye contact to look down at your fingers rolling around your clit.
“stop,” he said huskily. "i am here. do not do that."
he seizes your free hand and pins it right above your head. he does the same for the other, holding your wrists flat with one hand as his thumb rubs firm circles around your clit on your behalf.
once again, you can feel tears of pleasure brimming at the corner of your eyes. you are absolutely sore with blinding pleasure. you're moaning desperately now, with your words growing more and more incoherent for every snap of his hips.
"i wish you could look at yourself, blossom," he praises. "you are taking me so well."
"every," slap! "last," slap! "inch." slap!
lee is moving at a speed you can barely process. your pleasure is growing exponentially, to the point where it's getting impossible to verbalise. it's coming now: that familiar sensation brewing in the depths of your womb, like a compressed spring about to free itself.
"lee," you rasp, "lee, lee, lee, i'm—hah—so close, i can't, i can't-"
"you can, y/n," he breathes, "you can keep taking it. come on, you feel so—ngh!—good around me. "
your face is wet with tears now. lee's forehead presses harder against yours as he tastes the salt on his lips, kissing the droplets as they fall.
you don't care who hears you anymore. you're shaking as much as lee's grip allows; gasping, and crying out his name as your orgasm tears through you with ferocity. your pussy is strangling his dick, gripping him like you don't want him to escape your cunt. lee gasps for every time you clench rhythmically around his length, but still, he fucks you through your high with the same vigour, and he still presses shapes into your clit as if you really need more. it's the best kind of torture. it really couldn't get any better than this.
his grip on your wrists are getting tighter, to the point of leaving bruises. his lips stay parted. he can barely keep his eyes open as he splits you open. he's getting close.
"y/n," his voice is strained-. "wh-where do you want me to fi-"
"-inside!" you answer immediately. "fuck! please, lee, i need you to cum inside of me!"
he'll give you anything you want.
lee drags his cock all the way back, and slams into your pussy for a final time before his thighs lock, leaving him reduced to a panting, moaning mess on top of you. you swear you can feel his cock jump inside of you. you can feel every throb as he paints your womb white with spurts of hot cum. even though he's plugging your insides with his length, his seed spills out of your entrance, trickling down your ass and pooling onto the mattress. he stays like that for a few moments, wrapped in post-coital bliss as his grip on your wrists finally loosens.
"i love you, y/n." his voice is soft.
"i know, baby," you murmur. "i love you too."
"you did well, and i am so proud." his fingers intertwine with yours as he peppers soft kisses on your cheeks. "i was a bit harsh though, wasn't i?" he remarks, sheepishly. he looks down at the hickeys on your neck, up at the minor bruises on your wrists, and down at the ones blooming on your hips where he had pinned you down earlier before meeting your eyes again. you catch him blushing faintly.
a soft chuckle escapes your breath. "you didn't hurt me. you could never hurt me, lee."
"i am pleased!" he smiles, revealing dimples.
"but you were harsh."
"yes… i was..." his eyes dart around, desperate to escape the weight of your gaze. it's almost as if he didn't fold you and fuck the life out of you.
"and all because you didn't see me for five days?"
"it is only natural, y/n! i think about you all the time. not being able to have you was terrible for me." he gets over his bashfulness quickly, looking down at you with rounded eyes.
adorable, you think. how such a small span of time can have such a big impact on a person. it makes your heart flutter.
"well, i'm not going anywhere, baby," you reassure. "i'm going to be right here, lee."
it's already over. you can feel his cock twitch inside of you again.
"i know, my flower," he kisses the corner of your lips. "you are going to be here all night."
⋆˚₊‧ — INCIDENT LOG : fist bump? ‧₊˚⋆
⤷ ゛isagi experiences brain malfunction (caused by stranger). it's bachira's fault. ˎˊ˗
ᝰ.ᐟ 2.3k. gn!reader · fluff · romance · canon univ · 2nd-hand embarrassment srry · bakery meet-cute · listened 2 something super sweet by rory webley while editing
› a/n: probably one of my favorite drabbles from likeeeee 3 yrs ago . heavily edited tho lowk i have grown as a person tyvm, bllk fandom did u miss me
yoichi isagi, contrary to popular belief, is not as socially adept as he looks.
it’s lucky he’s got the manners and charmingly boyish smile to cover it all up. he’s lucky fans and friends alike see his attitude as something to praise, that they fawn and squeal over how well he takes the shit he’s put through—ignoring how he gets on the field sometimes—and get little to no opportunity to see anything more. it might crush his career. there are very few that’ve seen what he’s like when there’s not a camera to smile at or a game to play, or god knows what else.
he’s lucky most of those people are those who’ve sparingly seen him anywhere else—who he’s met on the field. first impressions are always the last, and all that. not that he wouldn’t have gone to the potluck bachira’s hosting right now if it weren’t just the guys from blue lock, but ah. it’s reassuring to know it’s just them. yoichi figured he’d be okay just being himself. as it stands, no one really seems to mind, anyway—they’re all too busy catching up with each other, because damn, everyone is here. he hadn’t, for some reason, expected bachira to invite so many people, let alone that so many of them would show up—isagi’s sure this group would look a little out of place, made up of athletes from across the fucking nation, the world.
“isagi!” calls the aforementioned host, unsurprisingly giggly and practically tipsy already given the early hour. he nearly tips yoichi over in his rush to touch—his best friend has always been a clinger, and it’s rather sweet—but catches himself with an arm looped loosely around his neck, letting yoichi bear all his weight as he leans in to pointlessly whisper in his ear at top volume.
“kunigami ‘n chigiri are gonna go grab more beer, and uhh, i think nagi’s letting reo take him with them? ’m thinkin’ we go ahead ‘nd grab some food, i know you don’ wanna be left alone but everyone’s kinda gone off already and—”, he starts whipping his head around, hair smacking yoichi in the eye as he makes for a headcount, which could take forever.
isagi cuts him off before he goes on that tangent—he’ll probably try for a guessing game to see where everyone else went, which could last far longer than whatever free time they have right now—with a soft “that sounds good, bachira.” this earns him a hearty grin, and before he knows it, they’re stepping out of his building’s elevator and hightailing it across the street. yoichi’s always been a little jealous of the neighbourhood bachira lives in—there’s a bustling little plaza a five minute walk away, the area nothing compared to the towering highrises back where he calls home now. his best friend tugs him into a bakery just off the intersection.
“mmm, smells good!”, he hears bachira say, and it’s true—it smells nutty, kinda caramel-y, perfectly paired with the faintness of something floral, likely from the various flower pots scattered throughout the shop. isagi hums in agreement and inches to the side a little bit, just short of knocking into a stool. it’s a cozy little place. the speakers are playing something r&b.
“—just give me a sec!”, he hears someone say, sees a shadow ducking out from beneath a curtain, behind which yoichi could assume hosts dry ingredients and whatever else. he hadn’t registered the ding of the bell above the door signalling their entry
“sorry, we’re near closing. what can i get you?” you ask, ripping out a couple old receipts from the machine and leaning over to toss them into what he can only, again, assume is the trash (he can’t see behind the counter), before turning and giving him and bachira—
yoichi looks around, and thinks, only a little exasperatedly, where the fuck is bachira.
—your full attention.
he offers you a small smile, which feels easier to do than expected despite the million-and-one questions running through his head right now. he doesn’t know why exactly he’s surprised, but it’s been a while since he’s had to feel like a fucking parent who just lost their kid. it’s been way too long since he last came to visit. he hadn’t even felt the guy’s weight leave his shoulders, and wonders how appropriate it would be to turn around and start calling for him like a lost cat right now ‘cause honestly, where the fuck did he go? it’s a tiny ass shop, and he’s nowhere in sight.
see, the thing is, he would, but you end up smiling back at him with something that he knows, logically, is a customer-service smile, and he’s kind of abruptly hit with the fact that he’s standing before probably one of the most attractive looking people he’s ever seen in his life—which is saying a lot, because half his time is spent around people who end up on billboards. forgive him for feeling and probably looking a little stuck between giving you his full attention and ensuring his grown ass man of a best friend is perfectly safe being left alone for all of five seconds.
he tells himself it wouldn’t be appropriate and would actually be pretty embarrassing. you’re giving him your full attention right now, so it’s only fair he returns it. bachira can fucking wait.
he glances up at the menu on the displays above your head, and just then hears someone call for you from the behind the curtain you dipped under. your name sounds like heaven to his ears, and god, he’s such a fucking sap. you sigh, letting an exasperated little chuckle slip out before shouting back a hang on, we have a customer! and looking back at him. yoichi’s tempted to test out your name on his lips, but refrains from doing so after almost actually trying it. he’s stupid.
“i’ve never been here before,” he says instead, and cringes at himself before the last word even comes out.
fortunately for him, you don’t seem to mind, glancing up at the display behind you while he opts to stare at you. who would’ve thought, yoichi isagi, world-famous football star would meet some pretty stranger in the middle of the night and act stupid because of it—whether you know who he is or not remains up for debate, actually, but the point still stands.
you hum thoughtfully, gaze locked on the weekly special on the screen furthest to the right—he has really good eyes, he’s not staring that hard, he can just tell, his peripheral vision is good, it doesn’t take a genius, okay?—before it slides back over to him and fucking rakes over his figure. he tries to pretend he doesn’t feel electricity race up his spine at the weight of your gaze.
“hmm. we’ve got an assorted box for cheap? we’ve got a bunch of random stuff left, i think, so you’d be doing me a favour. some might be a little stale, though.” you trail off, stepping to the side a bit to peek into the display, where there are a ton of things he can’t really identify, much less so while he’s busy watching you. yoichi follows you with his eyes, pulling out his wallet. if it’s for cheap, he thinks, it means he can get rid of a couple loose coins and hopefully feel that same rush up his spine at the touch of your hands. holy shit, he’s pathetic.
once again, he’s not that socially adept. sneaky is a better term.
“is that in a dozen?” he asks, and glances up at the weekly special you were looking at, which isn’t, surprisingly, what you’d offered. he pauses, “my friend also might want—”
“—a pineapple puff pastry? i can just toss that into the box, too. it actually comes in a half-dozen, but i can get you two.”
you’re tapping the screen of the register in front of you as you speak, leaving yoichi a little dumbstruck. it’s not really at the fact he’s been interrupted, but moreso.. well, you. he has to shake himself out of it the best he knows how before he gets to counting. a part of him screams you’re jealous at the thought of bachira coming in here every day, that he gets to see you often enough for you to know something as trivial as his favorite food, while the other part swoons because you’re thoughtful enough to remember it.
“that’ll be…” you trail off and glance up at him, surprised to see him sliding way too many coins across the counter and stuffing his wallet into his pocket.
it’s just then that bachira decides to reappear, almost bringing both him and his friend down as he pounces, entire body weight falling onto your customer. you can’t help but snort at the gesture of affection, so like him that you’re used to it; bachira’s come around so often he probably knows more about you than you do yourself, spending so much of his free time here even though he’s probably crazy busy just to chat with you a little in the evenings.
as you sift through the register for his change, which you’re ninety-nine percent sure isn’t even going to cover the generous ‘tip’—he’d mouthed this to you as he slid it over—you listen to the two of them bicker. it’s not hard to admit he’s caught your eye. it was his eyes first, a solid cobalt blue, then the unruly black hair, and then his smile. you’re interested, duh, and you’re far from stupid. the way he reacted to you checking him out, paired with the way he’s been looking at you since he walked in? clearly it isn’t one-sided.
you hold out a closed fist, change heavy, curled between your palm and practiced fingers, waiting for the two to notice before bachira’s friend leans a little closer to you—bachira letting go of him to wave at your coworker, who has suddenly appeared to fill the boxes and bag them up—and knocks his fist against yours in what couldn’t be interpreted as anything but a fucking fist bump?
um? the fuck? it takes you a second, but you snort before you can help it, and bachira, who also froze up, follows with a bout of laughter. before you know it, your coworker is patting your arm in consolation as she walks away, and you’re suppressing a smile. bachira’s smacking his friend’s arm and has dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, the guy looking at the two of you as if he’s just completely embarrassed himself in front of thousands of people—he looks mortified.
really you are trying your best not to laugh any more than that, but christ.
“isagi..” bachira says, clutching his friend’s arm—isagi? you think, and oh, shit, the famous football player?—as he leans in to whisper something in his ear. you really, genuinely, try your best not to stare, fist still held out between the two of you, and wait for them to finish.
once bachira’s done and leans away, this sneaky little smile on his face that should only mean trouble ever-present, he skips on away, the front door bell going off upon his exit. his friend is still standing there, the hand he’d used to do that resting loosely on the edge of the countertop. he looks like he’s at a bit of a loss, but the sigh he lets out is a quiet thing that somehow elicits that juvenile feeling of butterflies in the pit of your stomach, and man, maybe you’re the pathetic one.
you reach out and grab that hand with the hand not holding his change, carefully uncurling his fingers and dropping the coins into the palm of his hand with a cupped fist. to his chagrin—he’s not stupid, he knows he totally lost his chance with you, holy shit, this is the worst thing he’s ever done—, you don’t let go as you rip the receipt from the machine with the coin hand, holding his wrist firmly in a way his mind, traitorously, hopes leaves a bruise.
unfortunately for him, you’re holding him too gently for that, and he has to remind himself of that as you crumple up the receipt a little on top of the change, and fold his fingers back in. with both hands. he can feel how clammy his hands are, between the calloused tips of his fingers and rough edges of his palms—but all he can focus on is how the touch feels electric, something far surpassing what he’d expected from the touch he’d been seeking.
“your change,” you hum, sweet as sugar and a little mocking, taking the pastries from your coworker, who’s giving you an all-too-knowing smile and holding it out to him. you only briefly breaking eye contact to glance at the movement of his hands as he dumps all of his change into your tip jar.
“um,” his right hand, which you’d just held in both of yours, comes up to rub at the back of his neck, his left gently taking the plastic bag from you. “thanks.”
fuck it, shot in the dark, he’s fucking adorable.
“too late to ask for your number?”, you ask, and swear the pink in his cheeks increases tenfold—but he only looks bashful at the request, not uncomfortable or disgusted, which you aren’t all that surprised by. you watch as he scrambles to flatten out his receipt, then as he palms his pockets to find what you can assume is something to write with, wanting to see him fumble for only a little bit before fondness wins out and you slide a pen across the counter.
now you’re the one staring, as he scribbles the digits that make up his very, very exclusively given out number—’cause of his status and all, he’s gotta stay safe!, his mother always says—and folding it up all nicely to give it to you.
“finally,” your coworker groans from behind you, prompting a laugh from both of you.
yoichi doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone with a smile as alluring as yours.
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