꒰ s. itoshi ꒱ : you dirty talk him… a lot.
cw ⌇ lot of dirty talk ◞ sex
He thought it would be slow and careful. Maybe a little awkward. You were quiet most of the time, at least when it comes to the usual chit chatting. You simply didn’t waste your breath.
So when you whispered “Take it off, Sae. I want to see you.” as your fingers curled in the waistband of his sweatpants, he figured it was the heat talking.
When you kissed him again, all wet and deep, with your hips writhing up against his thigh, he thought he had you figured out.
Maybe you liked control. Maybe you were bolder than he realized.
But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.
You were on his bed. Sheets half pulled down, a warm summer night creeping in through the window and the scent of your perfume soaked into his pillow. You were already naked beneath him, skin flushed and glowing in the dimmed light.
Sae had just sunk into you. His breath caught, his jaw tight, hands clenched in the sheets beside your head when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in deeper.
“You feel so fucking good inside me, Sae. You’re stretching me just right. I’m already so full.” you moaned.
He froze. His hips stuttered once, his breath punched out of him and you smiled. Smiled like you’d just won something.
Your nails scratched lightly down his back and you tilted her head, licking into his jaw as you added. “Do you like it when I say that?”
His mouth opened, then closed. Heat raced up the back of his neck, blooming across his cheeks. He never blushed, but right now he felt it, high and hot and humiliating. “Y-you…” he managed, but you just kept going.
“You’re fucking me so well, baby. Every time you push in, I feel it right up in my stomach. Want me to say it again? Want me to tell you how big you are? How deep?”
An embarrassing loud groan slipped out. His hand moved quick to cover your mouth - like you’d let him. You caught his wrist and locked your fingers together. Wicked little thing.
“Oh, no no,” you whispered, syrup sweet and obscene. “You wanted to take your time, right? Be slow, be gentle?” your eyes fluttered, then met his again. “Then you’re gonna hear every fucking word, Sae. Because I’m not stopping.”
He could barely breathe. He tried to stay composed, truly he did. He tried to keep pace, keep rhythm, act unaffected, but the more you talked, the worse it got. Every roll of your hips came with something new, something even filthier.
“God, you’re so deep. I bet you’d love watching yourself fuck me from the back, huh? Bet you’d lose your mind if I moaned your name like this while I came on your cock.”
“Shut up,” he growled desperately.
His hand found your throat before he could think better of it, holding you still, steady. His rhythm stuttered into something rougher, more ragged. Forehead dropped to yours.
“You’re insane,” he whispered.
“And you’re blushing,” you shot back, triumphant.
He was. He knew he was. His whole body was running hot. His usual calm shattered somewhere around the second “Fuck me harder, Sae,” and now he was thrusting into you like he had a point to prove. His hand moved from your throat to your jaw, then slid down to your tits, squeezing hard.
You moaned at that, arching into him. “That’s it. Don’t you wanna hear me? Wanna hear what you do to me?”
“I already know,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“Then fuck it into me. You want me to come around your cock, don’t you? Want me to scream for you? I will. I will if you keep fucking me like that—”
He cut you off with a kiss, messy and biting. Your mouth would not stop moving, but your cunt clamped down even tighter the dirtier you got. And sae realized, with no small amount of panic, that if he didn’t shut you up soon, he was going to come way, way faster than planned. He buried his face in your neck, breathing hard, sweat clinging to both of them.
“You love it,” you gasped. “Love hearing me talk about your cock like it’s the only thing I want. And you’re right, ‘cause right now, it is.”
You clenched around him and he whined. An actual, broken sound that slipped from his throat before he could catch it. He hadn’t made a noise like that since he was a teenager.
You giggled, breathless and cocky, and kissed the shell of his ear. “You gonna come, baby? Just from my voice? That’s so fucking cute.”
“I’m going to gag you next time,” he muttered.
But there was no next time yet. Only now. Only you wrapping your legs around him tighter, moaning louder, dragging him closer to the edge with every filthy word.
And when you whispered, “Come for me, Sae. Fill me up, please. I wanna feel you dripping out of me when you pull out,” he snapped.
He growled into your neck. Shoved in deep and came with a stuttering curse, his hips jerking, the heat rushing through him like wildfire. Your words didn’t stop even then and that somehow made it worse. Better. More overwhelming.
He collapsed against you, heart pounding, still buried to the hilt. “You’re trouble,” he said against your skin.
You grinned, smug and satisfied, dragging your fingers through his sweaty hair. “You’re welcome.”
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