synopsis : as children, it was easy to promise forever. hoshina and you swore you’d marry each other one day, promises made beneath the summer sky. convinced he has long forgotten, she buries her feelings — until sips of alcohol slips out her sober thoughts.
content: yearning, a bit of angst, plot heavy
word count: 6.7k
note: not proof read & this is an unfamiliar style for me, i wanted to explore lmao
the air is crisp and your ears are filled with the cacophony of children’s laughter. one corner of the estate had adults talking and catching up with one another while the other had three small children beaming to each other while their hands dirty with mud that they’ve decided to play with.
soshiro was in front of you, “[name]—! don’t do that!” he yelled out but really it was quiet.
only you and soichiro could hear his desperate protests that you stop throwing mud to him, his hands up in the air while he’s actively dodging the sloppy dirt you’re throwing at him.
he’s questioning whether whatever you’re doing is playing or you’re really just bullying him.
there’s a frown on his face and when you notice that the smile he wore just a while ago has disappeared, you decided to listen. putting your mud-stained hand down, and letting the clump of dirt fall onto the ground.
soshiro sighs, patting his clothes off but the stain doesn’t leave. he gives a glare to soichiro who has been snickering from a distance.
“this is your fault.” he complains, “you’re giving [name] weird ideas you know she will do.” his frown now turning into a pout.
soichiro merely shrugs at this, a smug smile on the older boy’s face.
a gasp.
you hear a shriek coming from the right side of the estate where the adults have been tending to their own businesses. you immediately shoot your heads towards where the sound came from and you see mrs. hoshina sprinting to your direction.
you cower, bracing for impact, assuming that you’re in trouble for playing with dirt. but the air hugs you instead.
you open your tightly shut eyes and see soshiro in his mother’s arms. one of her hands is caressing soshiro’s hair while the other wipes away the stain of the mud you’ve thrown to soshiro.
you feel sudden guilt wash over you, seeing as how soshiro is covered in filthy mud all because you thought it was a good idea — soichiro’s the one to blame though, he’s the one who influenced you.
but you don’t hear his mother reprimanding you. she’s solely focused on cleaning off the mess you made on soshiro’s clothes. you wonder if she hasn’t noticed or if she’s just really that kind.
you’ve known the hoshina family for a long time now—family friends is how you see it. but to the adults, they’re merely acquaintances. mere business partners in the force. so having both of your parents as partners also means seeing their children whenever you tag along on these meetings.
“what did you do, soshiro?” she asks while desperately cleaning off his clothes that he was supposed to wear for the entire day.
but soshiro’s an honest kid. he points his finger to you. and your eyes widen — are you about to be berated right now?
your eyes avert from soshiro to his mother. those unkind eyes that contradict the gentle hands that settle on her son’s back. she bore a callous demeanor when she catches your eyes in her gaze and you feel the coldness to it. the chill runs down your spine and you’re certain of it. even as a young child, you notice it: mrs. hoshina isn’t very fond of you.
you feel the urge to apologize immediately. “i’m sorry.” your head dips down into an apologetic bow. your lips are trembling, and your hands are shaking with shame.
you’ve known soshiro for a long time now, these mere playful stunts should be normal by now. it’s just this one instance that didn't go unnoticed by his mother. and you’re in a bad position.
she scoffs, “what went into that head of yours to play with dirty mud?” and she finally criticizes. they go right through your head, her words. even though they lacked biting comments, the harsh tone was still there. that judging, and hostile tone that slices right through you.
you’re overcome with shame when you realize that soshiro and soichiro are just staring at you. should you have been more mature? for a child’s play, was that truly unforgiving?
you hear cascading footsteps and your father rushes to you. he takes note of the sullen atmosphere and immediately realizes what is going on. the dirty clothes, your mud-stained hands that clutches against the hem of your skirt. it is a self-explanatory painting. he holds you by the head, pushes you down to apologize again.
“but i alre—”
“we are sorry, dear soshiro.” he smiles to soshiro while he merely looks back at him with a look so questioning.
he tilts his head to the side, a pout on his lips. “why are you sorry? we were just playing.” he asks the obvious and his mother gasps again.
a harsh pull to his nape and his clothes feel tighter—his mother has always been strict and somehow, he’s gotten used to her small gestures of lecture. “because it’s not kind to throw mud, soshiro!”
his pout exaggerates more and you can’t help but smile a bit when you stare at soshiro doubting his mother’s words. his back slumps and he scratches his head, messing his hair up and his mother breathes out another exhausted sigh.
“are you saying [name] is unkind?” he peers up to his mother and she’s lost for words. truly, that’s what she thinks but she can never say it outloud. not when you’re in front and your father — an important business partner — beside you.
but you notice the hesitation. the way her lips trembled a bit and her eyes twitched along with the way her hand stopped for a second. you look away, biting your lips down until you taste blood on the tip of your tongue.
“that’s not good mama.” soshiro tilts his head again, leaning away from his mother’s touch. “you can’t think that.”
for a split second, everything goes silent and soshiro’s words echo in your ears. you snap your head back to his direction, widened eyes beaming questioningly.
mrs. hoshina’s lips are agape before she hastily looks at you with a guilty smile. averting to shoot an apologetic laugh to your father who is all but aware of the whole picture. you avoid her gaze, opting to look back at soshiro who is already looking at you.
he smiles a bit, eyes crinkling close to an eye-smile. he points to you again. “i’m going to marry [name] when we’re older, mama.” once he’s said it, it’s set in stone. “so you can’t think that [name] is unkind.”
your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat. dumbfoundedly staring back at the deep violet hue of his eyes. the wind blows harshly and you feel like everything’s stopped because of the lack of reaction from the people around you. did you mishear it after all?
“i’ve decided i will make [name] my wife, mama!”
then it’s all but a fleeting moment. you stand there dumbfounded. you feel everything all at once—your father’s hand on your nape, the crisp wind blowing gently and soshiro’s enthusiasm. your eyes are wider than ever, and you feel strange on the inside. warmth spreads across your cheeks and you feel the blood rushing.
then the silence is interrupted when his mother laughs out loud and you hear the wincing disapproval behind her laugh. your father laughs alongside her to lighten up the tension that soshiro had created.
“don’t be foolish, soshiro.” his mother lightly called out. she rubbed across his cheeks while the little boy merely pouted.
“but i’m telling the truth.” he shook his head before looking back at you, regal purple eyes shaded with determination. “i’m promising to her now.” and there’s a whole-hearted smile settling over his features.
but to the adults, it’s nothing more than a child’s word that ought to be forgotten in a year or two.
but to you it’s nothing as light as that. you can’t possibly downplay what he just said when your cheeks are brighter than usual and your ears are obvious with the pink tint. you can’t look at soshiro in the eyes.
perhaps that is where it all began. maybe it all started when soshiro proposed that he marry you when you’re older in front of his mother, brother and in front of your father whom he’s never even had one conversation with yet.
now, a few years later, inside of a conference room in the 3rd division headquarters, you’re seated opposite to the man who promised to marry you when you’re “older”. but that promise seems to be all but kept now. because you’re both adults, in the right age, in the same line of profession but nothing has been done.
if anything, it’s the opposite. you can’t remember when’s the last time you had a proper conversation with soshiro that didn’t involve talking about work.
your eyes wander across the empty notepad that settled on the desk. your pen spinning on your fingers while your hair lazily falls when your head dips down from the last of attention you’re paying to whatever that speaker had to say about an incident that happened weeks ago.
you are a competent soldier. you’ve memorized the reports he’s overviewing right now. simply because you were one of the people who wrote it.
you breathe out a sigh before tilting your to the side to effortlessly move your hair out of the way and finally spare a glance towards the speaker. but your eyes don’t miss the way his figure sits with his arms crossed against his bulk chest. purple hair laying flat while his eyes are closed and focused to whatever’s being said right now.
among all the people inside this conference room, only you are all aware of him. you surprise yourself, the way you can focus on someone this attentively but not to the one who’s actually speaking.
the promise swings by the back of your head again and you’re distracted. you shut your eyes close before finally looking away before you catch yourself in that trance again. that trance where you’re left wondering what went wrong with the promise — how come, after all those years, why can’t he bat an eye to you anymore?
it was evident. the distance. gap was bound to form between you two when both of your parents broke off the partnership they had. the only form of bridge you had with soshiro had been burned down when you noticed that your family stopped visiting their estate.
how long has it been? did he forget about it after all? but how could he? when to you, the promise was the only thing that made you want to look forward to adulthood.
“ms. [name] can you provide the statistical interpretation? we need the most precise answer for this from you. surely you can, you after all, are this force’s most competent statistician.”
your eyes hover on the screen that showed graphs and numbers that you already went through a hundred times when you wrote the report. you lick your lips before smiling, rising from your seat to walk up front.
you raise your hand up to point to the graph, “the subject of interest showed regenerative properties, sir. and it maintained combat for approximately forty three minutes while sustaining artillery fire from the third division.” you start, eyes scanning the graph for a few seconds before switching to speak to the audience.
they nod and you feel your throat tighten. not because you fear speaking in front of all these high-ranking officials. but because you catch him. staring at you. and you know you shouldn’t think much about it because you’re simply explaining the data. it’s a given he’s paying attention to you. but there’s a smile on his lips.
“based on the collected data, sir—” your breath hitches evidently. the room falls silent when you try to regain back composure but the way their eyebrows raise immediately makes it hard.
your eyes avert from one corner to the other, lips twitching before it finally lands back on soshiro. he gives you a nod. one that surely tells you, keep going.
everything feels balanced now. you swallow a lump before looking away, clearing your throat to speak once more.
“its fortitude level exceeded standard honju properties by nearly 32%, making it one of the most durable kaiju encountered this year…” you end your report with reluctance and you hope the people don’t catch it.
the speaker nods his head before telling you you’re free to return to your seat. by the time you reached your seat, your body language is closed off. you know the eyes have already left you and nobody is paying attention to you anymore but there’s still this lingering feeling that you’re being watched.
you look up from your lap. as if by habitual instinct, your eyes search for him. and he’s there, on the other side of the room, listening to the speaker with a fair smile on his lips. you can’t help but stare again. the speaker’s words blur in your ears and all of the sudden everything feels like water and you’re floating on top of it.
but you’re caught. his head turns to the side, feeling eyes on him and he’s right. he catches your eyes for a split second before you realize and look away. he’s confused — were you staring at him?
you play it cool, licking your lips as you protrude your chin out to act as if the speaker’s words were the most interesting you’ve heard of.
and this time, he’s the one watching you. he stares, observing if you’d look again. eyes slightly open unlike the usual eye-closed smile, purple orbs watching every twitch of your lips and every blink of your eyes. but soshiro would be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping that you’d look again.
but you don’t. you don’t spare a glance towards his direction anymore. not when you feel as though you’ve been caught. and as much as you try to ignore the way you feel like you’re being watched, you just can’t brush off the feeling.
you swallow a lump before clearing your throat. and this, unintentionally, catches everyone’s attention. the speaker stops talking and everyone looks at you. you lick your lips wet to speak, “oh uh — i’m sorry, please continue.” you nod down and he begins talking again.
you fear this — everyone’s eyes on you. your hands tremble in the slightest and your legs move on their own. you stand up subtly from where you sat, and stealthily move towards the door.
outside the conference room, the warm air hits you and you finally let out that one sigh you’ve been holding back.
“[name]-san?”
you hear someone call out your name and when you look behind, you see kafka by the corner. you turn around, facing him.
“kafka.” you bow your head a bit and he does the same. “did you need something?” you nod your head, encouraging him to speak.
he shakes his head. “uh, can i ask? is the meeting over? i really need to get to the vice-captain if he’s available.” he purses his lips tight, a bit embarrassed with the reason he’s telling you right now.
you stare back to the door and shake your head, “unfortunately, not yet.” kafka tilts his head at this, “unfortunately?”
you chuckle a bit when he catches your snide remark. “yes, unfortunately. the speaker is taking a lot of our time, you see.” you put a hand on your hips, shaking your head in disapproval.
kafka laughs at this, finding your rant a tad bit relatable to whenever he feels like going home when he’s stuck listening to after-incident debriefs.
you two chat for a while until someone else came into the picture.
the conference room door opens and kafka peers through your shoulder to check. “oh, vice-captain hoshina!” he yells out with a wave of his hand and when hoshina looks towards his direction, kafka bows down.
hoshina smiles at him before walking towards you two. his hands in his pockets, his steps are light and it’s obvious that he’s feeling laid-back.
kafka asks, “is the meeting over, sir?” hoshina shakes his head at this, standing at a distance from you and closer to kafka. “oh? so then why are you outside, sir?”
hoshina shrugs his shoulder, opting to answer in the vaguest of ways that makes kafka even more confused. he lets out a sigh before nudging his head towards your direction, “shouldn’t you be asking that to her as well?”
kafka’s lips are open when he realizes. “oh, i apologize! i’m sorry if i kept you occupied, [name]-san.” he immediately says, bowing down to emphasize his apology even more but you can only shake your head at this.
“don’t mind him.” you tell to kafka. “it’s okay. i told you anyways, i got bored listening to that speaker revisit my reports. you’re far more entertaining to listen to, kafka.” you shake your head while rolling your eyes, crossing both of your arms against your chest. you don’t notice but your body language begins to show — you start leaning away from hoshina when he pertains to you.
hoshina catches this though. the way you move a tad bit far back when he nudged towards your direction. or how you refused to acknowledge his presence with a mere salute or one glance spared to his direction.
soshiro looks back to kafka who had a sheepish smile etched across his face whilst looking at you. that, somehow, irked him in some way. he waved a hand in front of kafka, “you need something or what?”
kafka snaps out of his trance and jumps with a shy smile when asked about his reason. “uh…” he beats around the bush, “it’s — vice-captain hoshina! please monitor my progress!” he finally spits out but his words don’t make any sense to soshiro.
soshiro tilts his head to the side, a dumbfounded expression on his face. “huh?”
you roll your eyes before sighing, “he’s asking you to watch him train. constructive criticism.” you explain, tone condescending as if you’re undermining his comprehension.
soshiro side-eyes you. “i knew that.” he juts out his lower lip, not appreciating your condescending tone in the slightest.
you roll your eyes again, “yeah, right.” but that’s there is to it. there’s no sharp bite to your tone when you say it. the teasing is evident, and you hope that soshiro doesn’t misunderstand.
he catches up and a small smirk draws itself upon his features. leaning back a tad bit to get a good look upon the mocking expression that graces your beautiful face. that’s how soshiro sees it.
“still the oblivious one, huh.” you say before walking away, opting to return back to the conference room than to listen to the two bicker again considering their rather friendly relationship despite their work positions.
and kafka, on the other hand, witnesses everything. including how you two are subtly teasing each other even with the lack of words exchanged. with mere looks and body language, it’s obvious that you two understood each other.
he’s confused, naturally. unaware of your relationship with each other, kafka is quick to assume. “... sir? i didn’t know you and [name]-san were close.” he chuckles, innocence wrapping around it.
soshiro’s smile drops, his expression turning solemn. lips licks his lips before clearing his throat, an attempt to keep kafka out of his business. kafka catches on and immediately purses his lips into a thin line, nodding his head down a bit before whispering a soft apology.
soshiro sighs, shoulders dropping. “nevermind that. let’s go.” he begins walking, leaving kafka behind confused. “but sir what about the confe—”
“are you coming or not?”
“i am sir!”
the conference is finally done after 3 suffocating hours of doing nothing but scribbling on your notepad and letting the speaker’s words enter one ear and exit in the other.
when you step foot outside the conference room again, you pulled down your necktie, letting yourself heave out a tired sigh. you roll your neck back, hearing it pop and you groan out in satisfaction. you put your small notepad inside of your blazer’s pocket before pivoting to walk down the hallway where your office is located.
but you’re stopped by an incredibly irritating sight.
“care for a drink, [name]?” he asks, a teasing look on his face. “you look awfully tired, don’t let this opportunity slip by; my treat.” he adds, now fully convincing you to a drink.
you walk past him but he follows, “come on.” he begs this time. tone reaching a higher pitch, whining in your ears and you can’t help but snicker.
your steps come to a halt just beside your office door. you turn your head to the side, shooting the braided man a look — a side-eye along with a stupidly sheepish smile that says let’s do it.
“give me five minutes.” you push open your door and he merely gives you a lazy smile before leaning against the wall, waiting for you just by the hallway.
five minutes isn’t that short of a waiting time. because apparently for him, a lot can happen in a minute, let alone, five minutes. leaning against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest, having little to no care about whoever is passing by until this one person came by.
“soichiro?”
he hears his name gets called out by an incredibly familiar voice. his usually closed cat eyes are now open in surprise. he jumps in place, arms out wide, ready to tackle the man in front of him. but the other swiftly dodges with a quick swerve to the side and soichiro ends up hugging the air instead.
soichiro sighs, “ah, really, soshiro?” he shakes his head disapprovingly while his younger brother seethes. “not even a hug?”
soshiro rolls his eyes before leaning against the wall adjacent to your office door. “why are you here?” he immediately asks, demanding for an answer. “you didn’t even contact me or anything, what’s up with you and your surprise appearances?”
soichiro looks at him, his eyes closing once again before leaning back to where he was perched against a while ago. “i’m not here for you or any of that sort.” he corrects, crossing his arms again. but instead of hearing a response, silence engulfs the two of them and the only thing he got was a scoff from soshiro.
“oh, i see.” he says before pushing himself off of the wall to walk away.
but before he can walk away, soichiro calls out. “join us.” he invites making soshiro stop in his tracks. “[name] and i are going out for drinks. no occasion, just… drinks.”
soshiro considers for a second but nonetheless waves his hand off. “duty.” he makes up an excuse in which soichiro rolls his eyes at, “lame.”
just when soshiro is out of view, the door to your office opens. you stare at soichiro who is directly in front of you, lips pursed into a thin line as if wordlessly scolding him for something that he exactly knew he was doing.
soichiro surrenders, raises his hands up, “he rejected my offer anyways.”
you groan out before finally slamming the door to your office close. whispering a soft, “asshole.” before finally walking out the building with him.
the bar itself is quiet, the ambiance is warm and it’s very obviously an establishment for working adults in dire need of calm and serenity and not for teenagers looking for fun. there’s soft music floating through the space, if not the classical piano that was expertly played in the background. you two took a seat on the bar stools that lined up in front of the illuminated liquor display and the bartender.
your eyes settle on the collection of alcohol that is perched on the display, “yamazaki 18, please.” you smiled towards the bartender who obliged and prepared your drink immediately.
while the winemaster is busy preparing your drinks, you lean against the counter. chin against your propped up palm, “so…” you shrug, “care to tell me why you’re here?”
soichiro merely looks back at you, the same lazy smile etched on his face. “[name], you can’t hide forever.” he starts and it’s awfully thrilling. you’re curious as to what meaning his words hold.
you bite your lips down before shaking your head, “no idea what you’re talking about here, soichiro.” you shrug your shoulders, teasing your childhood friend with an innocent act. but deep inside, you knew all too well what he meant. the reminder settles inside you like a warning.
your drinks arrive and you finally take a sip. the harsh bitter bite to it reaching your throat deep and you hiss. “this sure hits the spot.”
soichiro puts his glass down. “i went home a few weeks ago. visited parents.” he starts, not even daring to look you in the eyes because he knows how much it will sting for you when he finally stops beating around the bush. he looks for the words; proper ones. the best ones to convey the awful news.
he doesn’t get them. and he can’t help but feel bad for telling you so directly. “he’s a subject for marriage, [name].”
as if time has stopped for you, everything falls silent and unmoving. your head hurts and you don’t know if it’s from downing two shots at once or the fact that you’ve finally heard the news. you pursed your lips into a thin line, head lowering down until your hair covers the entirety of your face from his view. but he doesn’t need to look at you to even know how you feel.
“you gotta tell her [name], he ain’t going anywhere if you tell him how you really feel.” soichiro’s words strike you like a piercing bullet. your eyes are shut close, listening to him as you slowly push deeper into your frustration. “you know he feels the same, [name].”
that’s it. you can’t help but not believe him and his words. it all comes down to soshiro feeling the same but really, you’ve never felt even one second of that feeling from him. you choose to believe that assuming he feels the same would be wishful thinking — that it’s all empty words and people are just whispering nonsense in your ears. all to make you say it out loud, all to make you feel vulnerable.
soichiro sighs, giving up with whatever motive he has by coaxing a confession out of you. he nods to the bartender, juts his finger towards your cup, a gesture to tell him that you’d fancy a refill.
it’s quiet now. the storm inside your head dies down when you finally down another shot of yamazaki 18. you finally face the world again, but when soichiro peeks to take a closer look at you, the redness in the corners of your eyes don’t go unnoticed.
he chooses not to push the topic about soshiro anymore but decides to ask about whatever love life you have anyways. “so, marriage? any plans?”
you buffer for a second, processing whatever he means by his question. you look at him, dead in the eyes. “are you seriously asking me that?”
soichiro shrugs, tilting his glass towards your direction. a scoff leaves your lips when you realize he’s seriously asking you about it. a smile makes its way to your lips, biting back a laugh when you try to think of an answer but only a certain memory comes into mind.
soichiro chuckles, catching the hesitation in you when you stop yourself from answering too quickly. “come on, i know you.” he teases, shoulder nudging yours.
you roll your eyes, “then why ask when you know already.” you deadpan before the both of you burst out laughing, the sound of you two giggling echoing in the rather empty and silent bar.
you physically cringe when you realize the volume of your shenanigans. “sorry.” you apologize to the bartender who merely shrugs it off.
a sigh escapes from your pursed lips. “i can’t keep holding onto that, soichiro.” the humor dies down, and solemnity makes its return with your words. “you know that. for all i know, he probably have forgotten all about it now.”
soichiro looks at you, eyes a tad bit open to observe you. he’s conflicted, but he comes to a compensating conclusion. he innerly apologizes to his brother, wincing for what he’s about to do.
“[name], he hasn’t.” he’s a snitch. and if soshiro were to know, who knows what will happen to their godforsaken, almost no-contact brotherhood? nonetheless, soichiro views you as an important person in his life who still deserves the truth.
you down another shot, “how are you so sure about that? you two barely even talk.” you shoot.
“because he’s my brother. i should know that much.”
there he goes, pulling the brother card. but you’re nowhere near convinced. you roll your eyes, downing shot after shot until the alcohol finally combines in your system and soberness is a mile away.
“is that why you came here? to patronize me?” you spit back to soichiro, the alcohol speaking for you and you’re no longer in the right headspace to even be talking.
soichiro shakes his head, one hand taking away the shot glass in front of you before the bartender decides to refill it again.
“no,” his tone is stern and it makes you laugh. “i came here to tell you to stop beating around the bush and tell him how you feel.” he stands up, taking his phone and coat before dialing a number.
his eyes are situated on you and your slumped position, one hand reaching out to the bartender for a refill but soichiro tells him no.
the line rings and finally it's connected.
“hello?” the person calls out.
soichiro looks at you one last time before speaking, “nocturne lounge. pick her up, take care of her. i’m giving you this chance, soshiro.” and without even waiting for soshiro’s reply, he ends the call.
he bows to the trusted bartender before leaving, “please look after her until vice-captain hoshina arrives.” the bartender nods discreetly while wiping glasses.
on the other end, soshiro is undecided. he clutches his handphone is one hand before finally saying fuck it internally and goes out after flapping his coat onto his shoulder. “i’ll be back later, tell captain ashiro i won’t be gone for long.” he tells to his squadmates before finally leaving the headquarters.
his squad members look at each other in confusion, “why is the vice captain in such a rush…?”
soshiro enters the car in one swift motion, his seatbelt is buckled and within a second, his engine revs and he’s steering the wheel with precision. he goes to drive on the freeway, one hand propped against the car door, leaning against it.
he passes by multiple establishments but he doesn’t slow down until he’s in front of the nocturne lounge. he sighs before exiting, slamming the door harshly and he’s off stomping his way towards the bar.
you hear the small bell on the door tinkle but you don’t bother looking up, assuming it’s just another customer and besides, the alcohol hasn’t fully washed out of your system despite the bartender’s desperate attempts to make you drink a glass of water.
he tips off the bartender before taking a seat beside you. the atmosphere changes in an instant and you feel it shift. you look up, to the bartender first then to the man who chose to sit beside you even though the bar is empty.
he’s unoccupied, lips slightly agape like he’s unsure of what to say. your eyes widen almost immediately because no amount of alcohol can hypnotize you from recognizing the subject of your yearning.
you stumble back on your chair, astounded with the view in front of you. “soshiro—!?” you yell out his name and he looks at you, a frown on his lips.
he tips the bartender to take the glass away from you. “let’s go. i’m going to take you home.” he nods off, going down from the stool, offering you a hand.
but you don’t take it immediately. his hand is in front of you, and it will only take a second for you to finally come in contact with his warmth again. there’s an even deeper frown on your lips when you realize the bigger picture.
“did soichiro tell you to come?”
soshiro looks at you dead in the eye because he knows he can’t lie about it. you roll your eyes, feeling pathetic before finally turning around to face the bartender again.
“come on.” soshiro calls out again, tone becoming audibly impatient.
but you’re stubborn. you can’t give in that easily, not when you’ve just been tipped off by your friend because he knows how much you like his brother. it’s almost as if they’re throwing you a pity party.
but when you don’t give in, soshiro’s patience has worn out. he pulls you in by grasping your wrist, you stumble in your steps but soshiro’s grip grounds you back to stability. both of you leave the bar with a harsh ring of the door’s bell.
he opens the door to the passenger seat, and you oblige. when you enter, he’s buckling his seat in the driver’s seat. the car is silent now, it takes him a while to even start it because the tension is evident. he sighs, turning the keys to fully start the engine.
“look, [name]—”
“soichiro told me you’re going to get married.”
the tension deepens now that you’ve opened the subject. soshiro’s hand grips tighter on the steering wheel, frustrated about the fact that you’ve heard the news when his plan was to keep quiet about it to you.
“that’s all? that he said?”
and it was in fact not all, but what good would it make if you told no?
“yeah.” you nod your head, tossing your body lazily onto the side to lean against the window. “congrats, soshiro.” you swallow, pathetically throwing your pride under the bus.
“can i know who the woman is?” you giggle, attempting to lighten up the mood.
“[name] that’s…” but he can’t find the words. after all, at the end of the day, soshiro has become so fragile that he can’t even afford to be vulnerable in front of the person who he has so much to say to.
he merely licks his lips wet before finally asking, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “are ya sober?” you shake your head, “not at all.”
he purses his lips tight, “i tried to argue. i made a promise to ya, [name].” his eyes are locked onto the road now, unable to look at you through the mirror anymore. he doesn’t wish to see your intoxicated gaze that won’t remember a single word of what he’s saying right now.
but one thing about you is you’re a liar.
you bite down your lips, swallowing and the sound echoes in your ears. you shake your head before your hand starts to grip themselves into fists. “promise? you still remember that?”
soshiro chuckles, “how can i forget?”
a smile makes its way to your lips and your head drops, your lips are trembling now. “how different would this be if i were sober, soshiro?” you can’t help but let out a sarcastic remark.
you scoff when you hear no answer. just when you’ve realized that you’ve fully engraved the idea of you being drunk in soshiro’s head, you decide to take advantage of it. “i want to resign.” you blurt out so suddenly that it shakes soshiro up.
“why?”
“because.” you shrug but soshiro doesn’t buy it. “don’t down play it like that.” he scolds you and you can only laugh out in your drunken state.
“i joined the force because i was following someone, soshiro. and that someone is… guess what?” you joke around, but the truth is getting caught up in your throat you can barely speak without choking. “that’s right, he’s getting married!”
soshiro’s grip tightens and he pushes the brake abruptly making the car stutter and come to a stop at the highway’s side.
you can’t look at him. not when his knuckles are turning white and he can’t take his eyes off the busy road in front of him and his head spirals down.
“yer drunk, [name].” and good thing he’s your knight-in-shining armor, ready to save you from the embarrassment of confessing your sober thoughts in a drunken state.
but it’s pissing you off really.
“i’m not, don’t tell me i’m drunk, soshiro!” you yell out, finally looking at him, lips protruding into a frustrated pout. “i’m not drunk… i’m… desperately, hopelessly… ardently yearning for you, soshiro.” you breathe out, eyes half-lidded with the unbearable ache of keeping these feelings to yourself for so long.
you’re yelling at him now, tears pooling on your lower eyes until they’re finally let go with every word you’re spilling out. you feel ashamed, pathetic even, that you’re feeling vulnerable in front of this man who is most probably engaged.
“you… consume my mind… you make my heart your shelter and you… you’ve been here ever since, soshiro.” your volume dies down when you realize. you swallow harshly before your body begins to lean away.
he stares back at you, lips agape and eyes wandering over every feature on your face. he sees the hesitation return in your eyes and when you lips begin to shake he knows what’s about to happen.
“i — ah, i’m sorry—” your hands tremble when you try to break free from the seatbelt but it won’t budge. you’re too shaken up to even do the one thing that will set you free from the situation that will forever haunt you.
but while you’re busy occupying yourself with undoing the rather sturdy seatbelt, a hand makes its way to your own. making you come to a halt when the warmth settles in. you look up and come face to face with soshiro, a committed look on his face and you can’t bear to look even deeper so you avert your gaze.
“[name], listen to me.” he whispers, he leans in ever so slowly, breath fanning against your cheek. “please.” he begs, “look at me.” and again.
you consider it and for a fraction of moment, you look at him but when you do, you can’t keep your eyes off of him anymore. not when his eyes are desperately seeking yours, and when his lips are plump close to your own.
“give me a chance.” he speaks out, one hand making its way to rest against your cheek. “let me convince my parents.” you can’t help but lean against it when he does but another tear falls and you shake your head disapprovingly.
you chuckle softly, it comes out choked because of the frustration that settled right inside of you. “your mother… is not very fond of me, soshiro.”
soshiro sighs, eyebrows furrowed before talking once more. you can see it, he’s determined, he wants this. “i… please, [name].” he fears that he may have gone a bit too selfish for own good. “i love you.” to even say those words, he truly has gone far beyond what he deserves.
“i don’t do empty promises, [name].” he presses his forehead against yours, lips itching to become one with you. “please—”
his lips finally touch yours when your hand makes its way to caress his cheek like how he’s caressing yours. it’s soft — his cheeks and his lips. he’s molding into you, as if this kiss is his only chance to show you how he truly feels.
your breath hitches and tears come splashing down. what good did years of waiting and yearning do to you? “i love you too.”
synopsis : you and kei agreed to keep things casual—no strings attached. but he finds himself slipping almost-confessions that he always swallows at the last second
content: 18+. nsfw — smut. a lot of plot. friends with benefits. smoking — cigs after sex. public sex. choking. fingering. car sex. unprotected sex.
word count: 14k
note: not proof read + didn’t want to make separate parts
"you staying for the bands?"
your thinking process resets when you hear your friend, yachi, ask beside you. she's all over your ear and it doesn't take a lot to even notice her. you swallow a lump in your throat, turning the pen in your hand when you think about her question.
there's a soft hum in the night wind, it's a bit chilly but nothing that your denim jacket can't block. you look up to the stage where the lights are dimmed and the college interschool festival are preparing for the next segment — the showdown of the bands. the sound of it all echoes in your ears — the wind rustling, the lights flickering, your pen spinning, and the faint chattering of the students behind and all around you.
you turn your wrist around to check your analog clock. it read 8:37. you wonder if it's too late already or should you stay to enjoy the rest of the festival.
you look at yachi beside you, opting to ask her if she's staying, "are you?"
she thinks for a while but nods her head after a while. "yep. hinata's staying anyway, and he has a ride. if you need one, i'll ask him for you."
ah right, hinata. yachi's close friend because they've been classmates since high school. you've only became closer to yachi just this college — first person who approached you after you moved to this unfamiliar place.
you shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows. "no, no. no need. i'll take the train. it's just one ride anyways." you purse your lips into a thin line, giving her an assuring smile and she nods her head.
you both look back to the stage, it was far away from where you two sat. away from the crowd that formed right behind the barricade of the main stage. the speaker buzz frequency trials and the mic echoes, they've begun sound checks. there's was a group in front, tuning their guitars until the sound director told them it's all good.
a familiar figure catches your eye — tall, blond, and lean. you wonder where you've seen him before but no specific situation comes into mind. but you do remember him somewhere.
you nudge yachi's elbow, "hm?" you point towards the stage, swaying your finger left to right, gesturing towards the group that is preparing the instruments. "aren't those... uh, hinata's friends? i think i've seen them around him before..."
yachi squints her eyes, focusing her vision to see the people on the stage more clearly. with folded arms she hums, "oh yeah, one of them's my friend." she nods convincingly, "they're probably the reason why hinata's staying."
among the band members, one struck out to you. his fingers expertly tune out the guitar he's holding, one is strumming with mastery while his eyes remain hyperfocused on the sound director who is giving him instructions. but when he's unsatisfied, he sternly asks the sound director that his guitar sound be amplified.
and that, somehow, was attractive to you.
you look away immediately when you get too absorbed in the view in front of you. all more reason is when you can't even see his face clearly because the lights are still dimmed and you're too far away to even catch a glimpse of the light in his eyes. but his figure, it tells you everything that you need to know.
you glance at yachi, scrolling down on her phone, and for a second you consider asking her for his name. but you realize that she might not know him, after all they're hinata's friends, not hers.
but what if she knows—
"what's his name?" startled by your sudden question, yachi jumps before looking at you and towards where your gaze is directed. she catches your view — the band's electric guitarist in the flesh. yachi squints again, but this time, it's a teasing gesture towards you. because she knows this man all too well, and the fact that you're asking for a name invites her to tease you for it.
"tsukishima kei, close friend of me and hinata." she tells you and the name blurs out in your ears.
wow, even the name sounds attractive.
your mind betrays your expression on the outside — nonchalant and laid-back, as if you've got no hidden intentions behind it.
yachi nudges you to the side and you lose balance when you realize that you've been too absorbed in your thoughts. she chuckles, a teasing sound of "oooh" coming out of her lips. her eyes are smiling too, amused by this and everything else. typical yachi, quick to give malice to everything.
"why? you like him?" she drops the question and you furrow your eyebrows.
you don't know why but you've become so defensive to a normally asked question. and when you answer, there's a scowl on your face, "no way. i can't even see his face."
yachi is not convinced and her teasing just continues. but it dies down when you stop talking about it.
but that doesn't necessarily mean that you've stop stealing glances. not when he's down from the stage and he's now staying with this group at the side, leaning against the barricade with his guitar bag on one shoulder. phone on one hand, scrolling and his glasses are reflecting the light from his phone.
this time, you can actually see just a tad bit of his face. you can see his eyes now, hidden beneath the transparency of his glasses. and his lips, pursed into a tight line as he focuses on whatever he's busying himself on his phone. he towers over everyone else on his team. and he's quiet, only giving out snide remarks to hate on his members playfully. he's occupied with his phone but he listens to their rambles — the way that he smirks and chuckles to every joke the group throws albeit his eyes still on his phone is proof of his attentiveness.
you catch yourself looking over at them once in a while and you can't help but let your gaze linger a little bit longer on him. every member looked interesting — they all similar fashion senses. but something about this blond man who hovers over everyone else there because of his height just pulls you in.
you lean back against the chair you're sitting on and groan, "when is it starting, yachi?" you hum out in impatience, staring at the bright moon above and the stars indicating that there would be no rain coming.
yachi hums beside you, and gestures to the side of the stage. "they're drawing lots. it must be starting in a few minutes." you sit back up to see the leaders of each team drawing lots to determine the order of performances.
"i hope they play first." you sound out and yachi hums, not quite catching what you said. but you realize what you're saying and you shake your head, telling her that it's nothing.
in the end, they play last.
hinata arrives to the scene and you nod your head at him, not feeling quite comfortable because you're not all that close with him. you talked here and there, but you've never been this close to him.
"you like watching live bands too?"
just between the moment of having been caught up by your train of thoughts and paying attention to your surroundings, hinata's unfamiliar voice pulls you out. he's leaning towards yachi to face you and you don't process his words immediately — too surprised that he initiated a conversation with you.
you nod your head, choosing to say yes. "if i get the chance too, yeah." the tone is casual and you wonder if you've made a new friend. but with hinata, comfort is easy. he's a natural.
yachi shoots to look at hinata after realizing something. "so right, hinata, [name] here likes tsukishima." her words echo like the reverberating speakers inside your ear and you can't find any opening to deny what she just said when hinata begins to make a big deal out of it.
he yells out a, "whaaaaat?" prolonged and emphasized. the least you can do is shake your head and put your hand out to defend yourself from this nonsense of a rumor that yachi is starting.
the speaker hisses with feedback and the mic echoes when the host speaks on the stage catching each and everyone's attention. the outdoor stadium is loud with the crowd cheering when the segment is finally starting. you and the two's attention now drifting away from the situation and focusing on the host.
"all right, this is everyone's favorite segment! the showdown of the bands! the order of performance is as follows—" the monitor up front shows the list of bands performing and their band name is written as the last performer.
you catch hinata slumping on his seat. "sucks, why do they have to perform last? this is going to be such a long wait." he complains but yachi consoles him. "hey now, we might enjoy the others. besides, isn't it better that they're last—save the best for last, they say." she raises an eyebrow, proud of her reasoning.
you pursed your eyes shut, sleep slowly taking over you. you glance at your watch and see it has already clicked 9 in the evening. and the fact that they're only starting doesn't help.
mid-performance, your head is bopping up and down and you realize that you're falling asleep. you don't know how many groups have performed or how long you are into the segment.
yachi notices you from her peripheral vision and chuckles. "you wanna go home?" she whispers but she catches hinata's attention too. "need a ride? i can give you one." hinata offers upon seeing your eyes heavy with sleep already.
the loud sound of the drums echoing in your ears but it's still not enough to grip you out of your tiredness. you shake your head, telling them there's no need. "i'll finish the showdown. i just need uhm..." you think for a while and your eyes catch a sweets kiosk. "yeah, that will do the job."
you stand up from where you stood, leaving hinata and yachi alone to watch the performance of another group while you tend to your sleepiness and opting to buy something sweet to wake yourself up.
it's a waffle stand, with choices of toppings and syrups. you order something that will definitely wake you up, along with a can of soda. just when you were about to pay, you realize that you left your wallet in your bag. your bag which you left in yachi's care.
that was all it took for you to wake up. you are too embarrassed to even tell the seller because she already had your order wrapped up.
but divine intervention, "here you go." a voice sounds out and you look up — your mind shatters into a million pieces and your heartbeat picks up. no sleep left in your system.
the seller takes the money from the man and you've now essentially borrowed money from someone you don't know.
except you do know this person.
blond hair, tall figure, and a glasses tucked in his ears. it's not hard to recognize when all you've been doing to tonight aside from fighting back sleep was steal glances to this man.
"thank you. but you didn't have to do that." you call out to him, tone low and filtered with shame and embarrassment that you had someone, especially him, pay for your food. he merely shrugs, "noticed your struggle."
you look away and you can't bring yourself to look at him. the waffle is hot on one hand and your soda is cold on the other. you feel your cheeks are warm and the coldness of the wind brushes up against you making your loose trousers sway. silence engulfs briefly before the crowd cheers loudly, signalling that the current performance had ended.
"oh shit," you hear him curse. he quickly puts his wallet back into his pocket before turning around. but he stops mid-way, "uh, you can pay me back anytime—hinata's friend right? good to know we have a mutual." he tells you before running off towards the side of the main stage and in between where the barricades meet.
how does he know you're acquianted with hinata though?
you thank the seller before rushing off back to your seat as the next performance—their performance—is about to begin. you hand yachi your soda, telling her to take a sip because you know she hasn't let a single drop of fluid enter her mouth ever since the event started.
"hey, [name]." yachi calls out after she has gulped down half the soda. you hum, turning to face her. "need something that'll surely wake you up?" she asks and you wonder, tilting your head to the side, acknowleding her to continue.
"get tsukishima's number after this." your eyebrows furrow almost immediately. baffled by the nonsense dare she told you.
you instantly shake your head, "don't be ridiculous." you tell her, "even if i do ask, i don't know anything about him—he might have a girlfriend or something."
"no way." yachi cuts in, "tsukishima doesn't have one."
everything is silent for a few seconds and in that time range, you consider yachi's words.
you give up thinking about it when the stadium lights begin to flicker. yachi pats your thighs excitedly as she repositions to face the stage. you do the same, and the next thing you hear is the drums blaring in your ears as an intro.
the distortion from the amplifiers loudens when the guitarist strums harshly. you try and squint your eyes to filter out the blinding lights to see who is who—and alas, the one currently strumming the intro is him. his guitar is wailing with every strum, and the drums pick up the rhythm when the bass crawls under your skin.
it's starting.
and even though the electrifying sound resonates harmony from all sorts of instruments, your ears blur them all out and the lead guitar sounds louder than any instrument. and your eyes can only focus on one person.
he holds his guitar low on his waist, finger strumming and plucking with expertise. they're long, you notice. and he is pale. you start noticing every bit now that he's under the spotlight. his guitar is embellished with his personality—decorated with stickers and doodled on with names and signatures.
and with the way he's performing, you can really say that he loves what he's doing.
but your thoughts whisper to you, he's very attractive.
the vocalist hypes up the crowd and from your peripheral vision, you could see that yachi and hinata are into it as well. but you can't seem to find your own tempo. you can't bring yourself to jump around and cheer outloud when your thoughts are occupied with the thought of him and his guitar.
all you can see is him and everything else is blurry.
and that's all that you can remember—your attention solely focused on him for the entirety of the performance.
the next second, you're in an unavoidable situation because apparently hinata is close with all of the members.
they all gather after the performance, walking over to us. to where hinata is. immediately throwing inside jokes while congratulating them for doing a great job.
"you did really well!" hinata yells out the moment they are closer. you and yachi distance yourselves a bit, letting circle of friends chat with each other to let their nerves down.
tsukishima stood behind the others. sweat dripped down from his forehead and his shirt is a tad bit see through from the sweat that accumulated during their hyped up performance. he held his guitar in one hand, settling it to lean against a chair before wiping his sweat with a handkerchief. and you are all too aware of it.
he's still riding the high, the adrenaline of performing such piece. and you can see it with the way he's catching his breath and his fingers slightly trembling with the intense strumming he had done.
yachi nudges you. huffing to herself as she indirectly gestures to tsukishima. you turn your head to her with furrowed eyebrows and in disbelief.
she's really into whatever she's trying to start.
"go on." she whispers to you and reluctance washes over you because for a second there, you're considering doing it—getting his number and all.
you bite your lip back, wondering if you should let the midnight impulse get to you or be mature and think of the consequences that is waiting for you if you give in.
but no, the moon is bright and the skies are dark. and you are too star-struck to even think properly. who would miss such a chance to seize the opportunity in front of you?
and besides, you've missed the thrill of doing whatever you are about to do.
"hey."
you call out and he looks to your side, assuming that you've called him. and when he sees you looking up at him, he raises an eyebrow. his actions intimidate you. you were not expecting such a dominant vibe from him—not when he was just paying for your food back then because he claimed he saw you struggling.
"about the money," you start and he listens. turning his body to the side to face you, giving you, what some would call, undivided attention. "i don't have spare change right now, so..." you feel embarrassment creep up again. "can i just have your number so i can transfer it back?"
the air stills between you two for a second before tsukishima’s shuffling through his pockets, fishing for his phone. once it’s out, he gestures that you show yours too so that you can exchange numbers. “oh, right.”
you both take each other’s phones, typing in your personal numbers. when you get your phone back it’s unreal, because yachi is snickering behind you and you feel everything all at once.
“same number i use for my transactions, just send it to me anytime.” he clicks his phone off after saving your number.
you nod your head, “thank you.” you finally express, after feeling bothered the whole performance because you haven’t thanked him properly. he shrugs his shoulders, feeling nonchalant about the whole thing.
“you were good tonight.” your words startle him is all, because his eyes suddenly widen. he’s not expecting this small talk at all.
he looks back at you and you weren’t looking at him at all. a snicker makes its way to his lips and his knack for teasing gets activated. only meeting for the first time but both of you are feeling frisky so what is there to lose?
“oh yeah?” the mocking lilt in his voice pulls you out of your bashful state and your head shoots up to come in eye-contact with him. there’s a smile on his lips and you don’t know what he’s up to with that oddly attractive smirk plastered on his face.
you decide to play along, “oh gee, you’ve got your head in the clouds now that someone complimented you.” you mock back and tsukishima scoffs at this, taking your playful offense as an invitation for a banter.
“real, because i was the one who asked for someone’s number here.” he fires back and your expression is incredulous when you hear him say that.
“would you be okay if i didn’t pay you back then?” you huff out, offended with his words but tsukishima merely laughs.
the banter came naturally, and the teasing along with feign offense. it came off easy. and you’ve missed feeling like this. so everything just blurs out in the background because you’re having the time of your life bantering with the expert electric guitarist you’ve had your eyes on since soundcheck.
it doesn’t take long for the group to finally adopt you and yachi.
when hinata begins taking you along to hang outs with the group, it’s mostly just you with yachi, hinata and his two other friends—tsukishima and kageyama. the four were close friends since high school so you were hesitant at first, but tsukishima made it all so easy.
especially when his mission in life right now is to get on your nerves every time you two see each other.
thanks to the continuous teasing, and similar humor, you found yourself feeling rather closer to tsukishima than the others in the group. and he too, found himself laughing more often when you were around to play along with the jokes that only you two share.
“oh look, it’s miss. who haven’t paid me for the waffle she bought last interschool festival.”
you wanted to drag it for long because you liked having a reason to talk to him. and it worked—the mere waffle became the reason why you two get to have something to talk about.
you glare at him for the long nickname he’s given you. he towers over you with a smirk on his face. eyeing you carefully, reciprocating the glare you’re giving him with playful intentions.
you roll your eyes before taking a seat on the bench beside yachi, “i’m not paying you anymore. i’ve decided.” you scoff away, crossing your arms against your chest and tsukishima lets out a huff in disbelief but the smile never leaves.
“and why is that?” he asks, tone a bit lower than usual. he props his elbow on his knee to lean forward, taking a good look at you without having yachi or hinata in the way. you side-eye him, “because you’re giving me that bad attitude.”
tsukishima chuckles at this, “thank you for noticing. i’m honored to be the subject of your observations.” he teases and you can’t help but smile because it’s witty and it takes a lot to even know that it’s subtle flirting.
the background noises take over the situation and when tsukishima sits straight up, you avert your gaze towards the view in front of you—the entirety of the campus. green grass, college students all over the place, and the antique building standing tall surrounding the field.
“speaking of,” yachi breaks the peaceful silence, “hinata, your birthday is coming up.” she turns to look at hinata who merely nodded his head, blankly looking up ahead.
kageyama quips in with a hum, “any plans?”
but there’s nothing. a second passes by, then a minute. a tumbleweed passing by when the vibe gets awkward with the silence taking over after a question.
hinata does not speak. his eyes are unblinking as he looks up front, obvious that his mind is blank. lips unmoving without any sign of speaking up any time soon.
yachi groans. “don’t tell me you don’t have any plans, hinata!” she puts both of her hands flat on his broad shoulders and flapping him in and outwards as if to snap him out of his thoughtless trance. “don’t be such a killjoy, hinata! your birthday is on a weekend, make the best of it!”
but hinata has ran out of creative juices, and no matter how hard she convinces him, he can’t think of anything fun to do on his birthday.
“let’s just crash his apartment and drink the night away.” kageyama leans back the bench, looking up the sky after nonchalantly suggesting the best idea to hinata’s ears.
hinata perks up to this and immediately turns to look at kageyama with stars for eyes. “you’re actually a genius, kageyama!” he exclaimed, clutching kageyama’s hands in his making the ravenette lean back in surprise to the suddenty of the close distance.
“invite the band, tsukki.” hinata calls out, a smile plastered across his face as excitement slowly takes over him—the idea of having a party with nothing but friends and drinks after one hell of an academic week tasted like a drug.
tsukishima leans back the bench, sighing out before complaining, “too much work. invite them yourself. it’s your birthday.” he waves his hand towards hinata’s direction, an emphasis for the trouble he sees in inviting his bandmates. hinata rolls his eyes at this, “fine.”
you lean back against the bench too, letting your head fall against the rest. you turn your head to the side and the material is cold to your ears but you immediately warm up when you meet tsukishima’s eyes almost immediately. he’s in the same position as you—both of you looking at each other’s direction. the contact lasts for a while until tsukishima decided to be an asshole and shoot you a mocking smirk. with that, you immediately sit back up.
then all of the sudden, everything—and you mean from head down to your ankles—is hot and warm and unfamiliar to the feeling.
it’s hinata’s birthday and you’re dressed casually when you meet with yachi so that you can go together. the night is young, and the skies are filled with stars—an indication that rain won’t be coming to crash the party. and everything else feels the same as how you did when you stayed for the night to watch tsukishima play.
you arrive to hinata’s apartment in no less than ten minutes, and when you do, his apartment is packed. suddenly, you feel all too out of place when you see unfamiliar faces from corner to corner. and the fact that yachi knows them all doesn’t help your outsider syndrome. when you follow her to greet everyone else with a polite bow while she gives them a friendly hug, you feel like leaving.
“hey,” a voice interrupts your inner argument and you turn around sharply to see tsukishima holding two glasses of drink. and as always, a smirk is plastered on his lips.
the frown on your lips is quick to be replaced with a smile that mirrored his. reaching your hand out when he offers the other drink to you. you show him a toothy smile when he brings your glasses together for a toast.
“thank you.” you loll out with your lips protruding out to take a sip of the drink. it’s rich and the alcohol tastes bitterly sweet on your tongue. there’s a hiss coming to shred your throat into pieces but that’s the best part, because you get to meet eyes with tsukishima who had just gulped his glass down.
he raises his eyebrows, reaching out to take the empty glass from you. a lazy smirk rested on his alcohol-stained lips. “want more?” he asks and you nod your head.
he gestures that you follow him to wherever the mini bar was located in hinata’s apartment. leaving yachi to catch up with her other friends. you followed behind tsukishima and you are all too aware of the denim jacket he’s wearing that emphasizes the broadness of his shoulders and the leanness of his figure.
when you two reach the kitchen where the other drinks were, he immediately opens a new bottle and points that you sit down on one of the high stools. he sits beside you and pours you a glass.
cheers, and you both down another glass.
his cheeks are getting redder and you see his features glow in the dim light of the kitchen. you bite your lips as you look down when the alcohol begins to hit. your vision is blurry and when you see hinata and the others coming to crash your solo drinking session with tsukishima, you’re relieved. because you really need to take a break from the rotation.
“hey, don’t leave us out.” hinata pouts, running over yo where tsukishima is seated and takes a seat beside him so that tsukishima can pour him a glass.
“to the birthday boy.” he raises a glass, “happy birthday.”
you grin brightly at the scene and the party goes wild when hinata gets a sip of his nth glass for the night. everything feels alive and you start feeling hot when the kitchen is full of lively people asking for glass after glass.
you get too absorbed in the atmosphere that you didn’t even notice tsukishima’s absence. you pat your pockets for a cig and when you feel two sticks you sigh out. feeling overwhelmed with everything, you decided to excuse yourself for a smoke.
exiting through the front door, deciding to smoke on the patio. but when you open the door, you see tsukishima there, leaning against a pillar, cigarette in between his fingers as he puffs out the smoke.
“you smoke?” your voice catches him off guard and he makes a lousy attempt to clear the smoke he just puffed out. you chuckled at this, “don’t worry.” you show him the stick of cigar you’re holding between two fingers, indirectly telling him that you smoke too.
you pat your pockets again for a lighter as the cold concrete of the pillar next to tsukishima hits your back. but you groan out when you feel nothing like the lighter you owned.
“aw shit, i forgot my lighter.”
tsukishima snickers at this, smoke leaving his lips when he does and you see how his chest moves down with the exhale he does.
you stare at him for a few second while he puts the material in between his lips, inhaling that bitter taste of nicotine. he lets it linger inside his system for long before puffing out the smoke, and his eyes are half-lidded when he does.
he's enjoying this.
“you got one?” you ask him. reaching your hand out to borrow a lighter but he only looks at you.
he places his hand down, letting the ashes of the cigarette fall onto the concrete floor.
he licks his lips and he tastes the bitterness there. for a second, you’re expecting that he gives you his lighter to borrow when he reaches out his hand, but no. instead, you’re met with a half-smoked cigarette in front of you.
he nods his head towards it and you’re left dumbfounded. what are you supposed to do with his half-smoked cigar?
“you know usually people would offer a lighter, not their own cigarette.” you laugh out before tossing your stick back into your pockets to take his lit up, half-smoked one.
you bring it to your lips and inhale the relieving feeling of the smoke engulfing your throat.
you hear him snicker beside you, “yeah but i’m not ‘usual people’ aren’t i?”
you roll your eyes at this before letting the smoke leave your lips with a cough. it’s unfamiliar to you. “your stick is so damn bitter.” you furrow your eyebrows at him, showing your disapproval with the brand that he uses.
he reaches his hand out again, this time, holding your hand that held the cigarette and placing it between his lips to take in a good amount and huffing it out before releasing your hand.
you’re startled with the gesture, he’s so close when he smoked the cigarette. so close that you heard him inhale in the substance. your cheeks are flushed and you don’t know from what—from the drinks, from the smoke, or from the distance.
nonetheless, tsukishima is amused.
“you wanna try something new?” he offers and you wonder what he’s up to. curious of what he means by new, you nod your head.
he looks at you before scratching his neck, leaning back to think about it first. frustrated with the way he’s beating around the bush, you rolled your eyes. “come on, do it. you’re taking too long.” you groaned.
he chuckles at this but he asks anyways, “you sure?” it’s a permission disguised as a regular question.
you pursed your lips out, now even more curious with how careful he’s acting. you shrug your shoulders, “yeah.”
it doesn’t take him long before he’s bending a tad bit down. taking your hand—the one holding the cigarette—in his and inhaling in smoke from the almost finished cigarette. he lets go and the smoke hovers on the roof of his mouth as he’s gesturing you to come closer. his fingers moving and you do what you’re told to.
when you both get on a closer distance, he wraps one hand around your neck. using his strength to pull you in and it doesn’t take him a lot because your body is obliging to him.
for a split second, you’re confused. but when the smoke enters your own mouth, you realize what he’s doing. his lips are locked and pressed against your tightly, not allowing any speck of smoke to leak. he’s essentially kissing you, if not passing the smoke from mouth-to-mouth.
your eyes widen but you feel relief when you feel the substance hit your throat. tsukishima’s eyes are open, staring at you while he pulls the most outrageous stunt.
when you both let go, you instinctively lick your lips. a smile making its way to your face when you see tsukishima smirking down on you, seemingly proud of what he has done.
“just say you want to kiss me, why go through all that trouble?” and you never miss the chance to tease the situation.
tsukishima rolls his eyes at this, “alright.” he mocks back with the same energy.
but he takes it seriously.
he puts an arm around your shoulders before pulling you upwards, forcing you to be on your tippy toes. he leans down and just when he’s inches away from kissing you, he stops. the close distance without contact frustrates you and he doesn’t miss the way your lips are pouting, desperate for contact.
“no strings?” he raises an eyebrow.
“no way.” you reply.
and when you do, his lips land on yours. and it’s honestly sexy that you two are sharing a kiss in the middle of the night, outside your friend’s apartment, with the road right in front of you.
the arm that he had wrapped around you tightens with the desperation that seeps out of the kiss you two are sharing out of impulsivity. your hand lets go of the cigarette and it dies down when it hits the concrete hard. with empty hands, your arms wrap themselves around his waist, pulling him closer when the kiss begins to feel deeper.
and it doesn’t help when tsukishima begins pushing you and you begin to stumble in your steps. the ground is level and after a few steps, you two are hidden in plain sight in the dark corner of hinata’s apartment.
he pushes you against the wall of the apartment, one hand on your waist and the other attached to the wall beside your head. you on your tippy toes and him bending a tad bit down. no matter how much you try, the height difference still yells.
and it turns tsukishima on—how the size difference between you two is making him look so much bigger. and you swear, while in this position, tsukishima’s broad shoulders block you out of everyone’s view.
his lips never leave yours until he begins to feel the lack of air. a string of saliva is connecting you both and whilst catching for air, he pushes away a strand of hair off your forehead and everything feels so intimate all of the sudden. shying away, you bury yourself onto his chest when you lean towards him.
he chuckles and you feel the vibration against his chest.
“do you wanna…” you whisper out, biting back your embarrassment. “continue?” but you need it. especially when he’s so good at kissing it leaves you wanting for more.
“never knew you were into voyeurism, [name].” typical tsukishima, never misses the chance to make fun of you and your freaked out state.
you paw against him, desperate to ease the ache forming in between your thighs. “it’s dark—nobody’s going to see us.”
he snickers at your words, one hand trailing down to your lower back and he begins to caress slowly. its achingly slow, it's making you look pathetic. he chuckles lowly and it echoes in your ears, the hand you held against his chest vibrating along. his other hands repositions and it settles firmly on your shoulder blade, as if grounding you to listen to him.
“are we really doing this?” he leans down a bit, eyes searching for yours—asking for a verbal affirmation from you. his eyes, albeit filled with excitement, were still laced with worry. doubting whether you’re completely sane or did the alcohol kick in.
you shake your head before slipping out a mumbled, “yeah.” your breath hitches, alcohol swirling in and all around your system like an aphrodisiac making you desperate for tsukishima’s touch. “come on, you said it yourself: no strings attached.”
he rolls his eyes before finally giving in when he’s got your affirmation. he’s much of a gentleman to attend to your needs, after all.
a hand slips off of your shoulder and his calloused fingertips—from excessive strumming—touch your skin featherlight. they aren’t unpleasant to the touch, if anything, they are magnetic. continuously intoxicating you to desire for more.
his fingers act on their own and before he knows it, he’s got you in a chokehold. your eyes are lidded when he tilts you upwards so that you can meet eyes. a proud smile resting on his lips when your position yells out possessiveness.
he tightens it and he watches your eyes roll back to your head. using his strength, he pulls you in. sticking his tongue out before closing the gap between you two. you held against his wrist, tip toeing to press yourself against him even more.
your lips move in perfect sync, his tongue swirling against yours, saliva mixing with perfectness. he tastes sweet like the alcohol that you’ve been drinking. but there’s a hint of bitterness, the smoke lingering in the back of his throat.
he’s irresistible.
he doesn’t pull back. instead, he moves down. his lips touch your chin and your neck. he leans your head to the side so he can kiss along every skin exposed until your clothes get in the way.
he bends down, kissing against the bone of your clavicles. he looks up at you briefly, with slits for eyes and the lust is obvious—you’ve got him turned on. your hand makes its way to your chest, trying to unbutton your blouse—it’s a lame attempt because your fingers are trembling. but he stops you, swatting your hand away to do the job himself.
with one hand, he unbuttons the few first buttons of your blouse. when he does, he’s met with the view of your naked body. your breasts are covered with the privacy of your lace bra.
he can’t help but groan. to tease, you jerked your hips upwards, only to be met with his aching erection pressing against your inner thighs.
he hisses when he feels you against him, he harshly pushes you behind. “let’s go slow, yeah? i’m trying my best here.” he cackles out sarcastically while his hand caresses your nape, touch dripping with sensuality.
the softness lasted for a fleeting amount of time when tsukishima suddenly inserts his hand inside of your blouse. his warm hand roaming to explore every inch of your bare back, he pinches a fleshy part and laughs out mockingly when you hiss. it doesn’t take long before his fingers tug on the lace of your bra. he watches as you bite down your lips as he unclasps it with ease.
“hm, you seem experienced.”
he merely shrugs at this. your bra is loose, the strap being the only thing that’s keeping your breasts covered. he relocates his big hand, this time going under your bra and palming you underneath your clothes. your nipples are perked up below his calloused hands, he gropes and pinches them, taking in satisfaction when your face contorts with pleasure from his insane handwork.
“you like that?” he asks, raising one eyebrow while his voice is low and seductive to your ears. you mindlessly nod your head, overtaken with immense delight after having been touched lightly.
you don’t know the reason behind your over sensitivity but you’re certain that you want more.
tsukishima lowers down his head, you have your eyes closed making you unaware of what he’s about to do. but when you hear your blouse unbutton the rest of the buttons restricting him from a view, you’re eyes shoot up. your surprise is fueled even more when he latches onto you without notice.
his teeth graze your nipples and it’s driving you crazy. so instead of reprimanding him, your agape lips let out a sound of bliss. a hitched moan, choked just right below your throat—indication that he caught you off guard.
you squirm beneath him and he adjusts. he breathes out when he detaches from you, your hands trembling when they land on his shoulders. he looks you dead in the eye, “do we continue?”
and you shamelessly nod your head.
he scoffs out a contemptuous laugh, finding the way you’re practically begging for dick ridiculous.
but he wastes no time in repositioning his hand so that they rest on your inner thighs. with little struggle, he pushes them apart—your skirt flapping open—and you’re spread out leaning against a wall—it strains you a bit but nothing too much for what is about to happen.
he keeps a knee in between your own, keeping your legs apart before he brushes his fingers against the bareness of your skin. and he reaches your cloth-covered pussy and he hisses out when he feels the wet patch on it.
“you’re actually so fucking needy for this.” he huffs out in disbelief.
you roll your head back, moaning out softly when he brushes his finger against the slit of your overflowing pussy. “can’t blame me—” you choke on your words when he inserts two fingers inside, curling them upwards before thrusting back and forth.
“hm? continue.” he hums, mocking the way that you’re suddenly speechless when the wave of pleasure from his fingers knocks air out of you.
meanwhile, you had your lips pursed in a thin line, determined not to let out sounds that would be too loud for the people inside the apartment to hear. “ah, fuck—” you groan out, eyes rolling to the back of your eyes as your legs begin to tremble and your hand makes it way to grip on his bicep tightly.
“oh, fuck you, tsukishima.” your eyes open and your lips open wide when you finally reach your high and tsukishima slows his pace down to retract his finger.
he watches as your wetness slides down your thighs and there’s a proud smile on his face. eyes adorning his work of art—you trembling against the wall, lips quivering and unable to form coherent words.
“you’re pathetic right now, you should know.”
the consistency of this man—never misses the chance to tease you. albeit his mean words, there is a scornful smile on his lips that stretches widely, obvious that he’s enjoying everything.
he wraps an arm around you. for the record, he takes his time in letting you ride down your high—even putting in the effort to nestle you into his hold, his warmth acting as some sort of soothing method.
“still good?” his voice is softer this time. his arms around you are comforting rather than firm and suffocating. and despite the throbbing pain that shoots down his lower extremities, he still asks.
you nod your head, patting your hands against his chest before clearing your throat and gesturing below to where his erection is obviously up. his eyes follow to where you’re pointing and chuckles when he sees the evidence of his own arousal.
“i can’t do this out here, [name].” he whispers out, chuckling in between words.
you look up at him, “then take me to your apartment.” certainty is apparent with the way you say it—no hesitation and words clear.
he laughs again, finding the entire situation worth the laugh. “then get into my car, princess.” he points to where his car is parked, bending a bit down to show his princely charms.
you see his car across the street, pursing your lips tight before clearing your throat again. you close your blouse with one hand and you squiggle a bit, trying to realign your panties back into position. and you began walking with tsukishima snickering behind you.
you clasped the seatbelt tight as tsukishima starts the engine, when it does, it revs quietly.
when the car starts moving, you ask, “aren’t they going to wonder why we left without saying anything?” tsukishima shrugs, steering the wheel with one hand while the other rests on the gear.
“they’re too drunk to even notice i bet.”
you chuckle at this because he has a point.
along the quiet highway, his speed begins to pick up and you wonder what’s got him all worked up. “aren’t we driving a bit too fast?” you chuckle nervously, firmly holding onto the handle before you hear tsukishima smack his wet lips together.
“[name],” he swerves to the side. a highway lit up with nothing but streetlight and a few 24/7 convenience stores in the distance, you and him inside of a car with nothing but the empty road in the vicinity. truly dangerous. “i can’t do this.”
you hear him say it lowly then it’s followed by the sound of his seatbelt clicking and the next thing you realize is him pulling you towards him with his hand around your neck.
your eyes widen for the first few seconds of his lips roughly crashing into yours. but it doesn’t take you long before you start feeling like butter when you melt into the passion he pours into the kiss. his fingers tangle themselves into your hair while his other hand trespass the privacy of your clothes to grope you again.
“fuck, you taste so fucking good.” he moans out into the kiss and you feel like you’re being tugged towards the driver’s seat when his hand leaves your breast to land on your waist.
and he indeed, pulls you into his seat. the car wobbles a bit when you relocate, now sitting on his lap with your back arched when your clothes pussy makes contact with his erection.
even with just a mere erection, you can feel his thickness. and the thought of having it inside you made you want it even more.
so, you begin to grind shamelessly on his lap. the wet patch on your pussy forming on his own as you roughly grind back and forth on his arousal.
“oh fuck.” he groans into the kiss before jerking his hips upwards to meet your grinds. but he’s unsatisfied. he plants his hands firmly on your waist and stops you, making you whine.
“wha—why?”
he begins unbuckling his belt and his dick is released of any restriction. “oh my, fuck you.” he curses and you watch how his dick twitches with excitement.
you plant your knees on either side of him before putting your panties to the side and palming his tip. your fingertips caress his sensitiveness tip before you finally let it touch your entrance.
you bite your lips down when the feeling of it rushes to every part of your body. with closed eyes and a half-assed moan of his name, you let yourself sink into his lengthy girth. his dick is unsurprisingly big that it stretches you out and it strains you. his thumb draws circles on your waist, a lame attempt in easing your discomfort on trying to adjust to his size.
“fuck, you feel so good, baby.” you lean back when his tip finally makes contact to your good spot and his entire length is gone from vision—inside of you.
he can’t speak. because you’re squeezing him so damn tight it’s driving him crazy. “loosen up, baby. i can’t move…” he groans out, firmly clasping his hand on your hips.
he feels your pussy loosens and his dick twitches. seated on his lap, you began to bounce up and down. letting his tip hit your good spot over and over again. but tsukishima is left wanting for more when he’s discontented with your pace. so, he helps you by jerking his hips upwards again. the sound of skin slapping echoing in the small car.
“ah fuck, [name], you’re squeezing me so—ah.” he moans out loud and you hear it because he has his lips next to you ear when you’re slumped weakly on his shoulder. “ah—tight… so good, baby…”
“fuck, tsukishima—” you bite your lips down before opting to bite onto his shoulder. “im so—ngh—close…” your hips bounce even faster with your body desperate to chase that high.
tsukishima immediately puts his hands on your waist, pulling himself out of you before he shoots his load—white cum decorating your stomach. while your body trembles with cum leaking out of your pussy staining his pants.
your body is weak when the orgasm ends. you can’t help but lean against him, let your eyes close as sleepiness tries to take over.
tsukishima sighs out, breathes out heavy breaths. looking to his side to see you asleep on his shoulder while you straddled his lap. he lets out a laugh.
“ah, so you’re the type to get sleepy after it, huh.”
when you wake up, you’re not met with the black sheets of your bed. instead, you’re met with fluffier white sheets and on a bed far wider than your twin-sized bed. and you’re not wearing anything of the thin fabric clothes you own but you’re covered in an oddly oversized cotton fabric shirt.
the space beside you is empty. and the surroundings are cold, eyes slowly drifting to the turned on air conditioning system. you feel the cotton fabric stick to your naked skin, and when you peel below, you wore nothing except your underwear.
you shoot up, standing and the cold tiles of the floor make contact with your bare feet—it's a relief when you remember the hell you went through last night wearing heels.
your eyes scan the entirety of the room you’re in—black-painted walls, cabinets holding oddly masculine things, and two electric guitars hanging on the wall.
this is definitely not your room.
you walk on eggshells, traversing across the room to get to the slightly agape door. you perk through the small crack and see the living room. the couch, facing forward, was occupied by someone.
someone so familiar. his broad shoulders are out in the open as he keeps one arm resting against the couch rest. his hair is disheveled, obvious that he had just woken up. the television is running sone sort of channel—a volleyball match.
you absentmindedly push the door further open and it creaks loudly. you hiss when it does because the man slowly turns his head around.
“had a good night’s sleep?”
his voice is lower than usual, an even more apparent sign that he just got up. his face is free of any of the usual glasses that you see, bare-faced and slightly wet from facial wash.
“is this…” you tread lightly as you inch towards him, holding the shirt around you tighter. “your apartment?”
he nods his head before patting the space beside him, encouraging you to sit. you do as he tells you but you let a bit of distance get in between, intimidated by the size of his apartment.
“i took you home since you fell asleep in my car. didn’t know where yours is so yeah.” he lowers the volume on his television. “you wanna go? i can give you a ride.”
you stay quiet, the clothes around you feel cold when the centralized air conditioning system finally settles in the deep parts of your exposed skin.
he notices your discomfort, “oh right. your clothes.” he stands up, goes around the room to get your clothes that hang loosely on one of his dining chairs.
he hands you them but he doesn’t miss the faint surprise in your face. then some thought troubles him.
“do you not remember what happened?” his voice is a bit higher than usual—nervous that you might say no and that he might have taken advantage of you.
you don’t overlook the obvious anticipation and immediately shake your head. “of course i do—” your breath hitches when your eyes lower themselves to catch a glimpse of his swollen red lips. “i’m just… really surprised, that's all.” you look away.
you immediately scatter from where you sat, “oh my, i’m not overstaying am i?”
tsukishima chuckles at this, “nah.” he waves his hands off, “you can stay if you want. matter of fact, i’d rather that you do stay.” he raises one eyebrow before finally settling back to sit on the couch and taking your wrist along with him.
when the couch hits your back, you don’t only feel the comfort of his warm cushions. but the warmth of his arms as well because he has you underneath his arm. his palm planted firmly on your shoulder as he looks up in front to watch the television.
“is this necessary?” you chuckle, but nonetheless curling up into his arms.
his chest vibrates when he laughs with you. “thought you might be cold wearing nothing underneath my shirt.” he says smoothly and your cheeks blush red.
he feels you shrink under him and he rumbles in amusement. “you know, you’re shy for someone who was so damn bold last night.”
your eyebrows furrow and your cheeks redden almost instantly. you shoot up, firmly placing your hands on his thighs as you look up. “well i’m sorry but i got to say you were really good—made me forget about a lot of things so i’m looking forward to this partnership.”
he’s silent with a patronizingly amused expression on his face. it’s obvious that he’s growing pretentious with your words, proud that he’s made you feel good.
“yeah? call me when you need some serious forgetting then—and i’ll call you for mine.”
you’re all dressed up for a date. cheeks all pink from blush, lips are red like blood and your hair is all done like you’re about to star on a met gala.
but your clothes are ruffled from all the time you’ve spent sitting on a high stool in some bar that a guy decided to take you for a first date. except the guy never showed up. and you’re stuck in your seat, holding a glass of dark liquor.
when you take a sip, it’s bland. the ice had already melted and it tasted horrible.
your phone rings beside you and the caller i.d read his name—tsukishima. you roll your eyes before finally answering, putting the phone at a distance from your ear. “hello? why are you calling me—i’m not in the mood to fuck i’m sorry—”
“yachi said you didn’t show up for the afterparty.”
oh right, the afterparty of your college block that you ditched on purpose because you had this stupid date that you got stood up on.
“uh, yeah, tell her i’m sorry about that too.”
tsukishima stays silent on the line but you don’t hang up. the thought of someone on the other end of the call, listening to the noisy ambiance of the bar felt reassuring.
“where are you?” he finally speaks.
you lick your lips before biting, “i have a really bad night tsukishima, i can’t do shit right now.”
“that’s why i’m asking—isn’t that why i’m here?” he cuts in the line and you’re pissed off. why can’t he just leave you alone for this one night.
“listen, i just got stood up. i really can’t fuck you right now.” you bluntly confess and there’s a mocking scoff on the other end before he speaks out. “someone stood you up? what an asshole.”
you rolls your eyes, “why do you care?”
“yeah why do i? location, please.” he doesn’t care how pathetic he sounds right now, tone desperate that he come to your side to be your knight-in-shining-armor.
the call ends once you tell him the name of the bar and you sit quiet in the noisy bar, a glass of bland dark tequila in your hand and an aching lips that is needy for one makeout session with tsukishima. that’s all that you need right now to forget the fact that you’ve been stood up.
the bell on the door rings and you look straight to the entrance. seeing him wearing a denim jacket and disheveled hair. you raise your hand up and he spots you, immediately making his way to you right after he orders a drink.
he sits beside you, both you facing the window and your backs facing everyone else in the bar. the distance between you two are almost non-existent with the way he’s constantly trying to evade your personal space.
“why are you still staying here?” his voice is sultry when he asks, taking two glasses off the waiter’s tray before they move on. he pushes the other one to you and you take it, immediately gulping the entire shot.
you groan out the spice that you feel when it hits your throat with maximum flavor. “because i need a drink. because i got stood up.”
he chuckles at this, he observes how your cheeks are flushed from the drink and your lips are slightly plumpier than usual.
“i think you need more than a drink.”
his hands get under the table, away from prying eyes and they land on your thighs. his fingers immediately caress the plump flesh inside and it’s dangerously close to your aching core.
you bite your lips down when his fingertips touch your clothes pussy. “really? here?” you hiss quietly, only for him to hear, subconsciously closing your legs.
he snickers and there is a mocking edge to it, especially when he says, “isn’t this what we always do? why should it feel different when we do it secretly around people?” his fingers slip inside and his nails graze the inside, he feels you tighten almost instantly.
you lower your head, propping your elbow on the table when he picks up a steady pace. you hear your own heavy breathing echoing when you finally plant your head down.
there’s lewd noises coming out in whispers that only you and him can hear. it’s all muffled and silent when the surroundings is loud with multiple chit chattering happening all at once.
a waiter approaches and offers a drink. tsukishima smiles politely before telling that he will purchase two. meanwhile, you are being tortured under the table, lips bleeding when you bite down onto it to try and keep your noises to yourself.
but he feels so good.
“ngh…” escapes your lips and fortunately, the waiter has already gone to another table.
he picks up his speed even more and your body jerks up. your hand then plant on his thighs, gripping tightly when the know begins to unfold. his fingers are coated in your white goodness and there is an arrogant smile on his lips.
“drink up. i’ll drive you back home.”
you shake your head at this, “why would you do that?” you spit out, alcohol speaking for you.
but it’s a question you’ve been meaning to ask. a question that you need to hear an answer for because you two are in a roundabout that does nothing but confuse you.
tsukishima’s breath falters for a second, wondering what he would reply but there’s already a response in his head that he dares not say.
it’s three words and eight letters.
he dares not say it because he knows you have a point. why would he go all the way as to drive you home when you have your own car waiting in the parking lot—when you two are merely in this intimate partnership and nothing more.
just two people using each other to forget things.
his silence is all you need. silence that clarifies everything. nothingness that teaches you regret.
maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself in this kind of set up in the first place.
especially when you’ve had your eyes set on him the moment you saw him up on the stage, artistic in design and magnetizing to the eyes.
while munching on whatever snack you decided to feast on, you get a notification.
tsukishima: come over, studio. yachi is here.
your eyebrows furrowed, confused on why he’s suddenly inviting you to their band practices. “well, this is new.” you swallow your food before tossing the wrapper inside the bin, whilst typing in your reply:
you: 5 mins
there’s hesitation when your finger presses onto the send button, waiting for you to let go for the function to be activated.
but when your eyes close and you see a vision of you in that room, front row to the art that made you fall deep, there’s a haptic sound from your phone indicating that the message has been sent.
oh, he’s got you helpless.
tsukishima puts his phone back into his pockets when he reads your response on the notification window. immediately focusing back on whatever arrangement they are working on.
you walk towards the campus studio, where the college band works on new pieces to play when representing the name of the university. you haven’t been inside the studio yet, and you don’t know what to expect when tsukishima suddenly invites you.
a bunch of cologne-reeking men playing their instruments with mastery. and an expert electric guitarist that had you in a mating press just last night in his apartment because he was fed up with the way his drummer is constantly ordering him around.
and now that you’re invited, you’re actually excited to see what their drummer looks like.
and when you step foot inside, you certainly weren't expecting such appeal—his black shirt is loose, draping in one shoulder making an off-shoulder appearance. ripped jeans and drumsticks swirling in between his fingers as he tapped on the bass drum below. and there’s a smug smile resting on his lips.
“oh, [name]!” yachi catches you by the door and immediately stands up from the floor. hinata follow then, seems like the two were just slacking around.
your eyes search for a certain blond anyways, closing the door behind you to catch yachi in your arms. “why are you here?” she asks you with wide eyes. you look around and your heart beat faster when you see no sight of the man who invited you in the first place and now you feel like you’re intruding.
“i called her over.” tsukishima’s voice sounds from behind you and you see him busying himself with an amplifier. “thought it’d be a good idea since you’re here too.”
yachi shoots you a teasing look and you shake your head disapprovingly before she drags you towards an empty space where she and hinata were sitting before you arrived.
their a faint buzz from their electric driven instruments. and with the count of the drummer’s sticks, the band begins to play an unfamiliar arrangement. all of them seemingly on their game when a smile spreads on their lips.
but they’re interrupted when their drummer makes a mistake in the timing.
“my bad.” he chuckles lowly and your eyes scan his actions.
he’s everything that tsukishima described to you while you moaned out his name. everything that he complained to you while you’re catching your high, your legs spread apart and his cock deep inside you.
the man that he speaks of all night while he’s buried inside you is sitting on a stool, chuckling innocently all for a mistake he did.
you can see tsukishima’s annoyance from where you sat, inattentively listening to yachi and hinata. he snaps his gaze towards you as if indirectly telling you a “see” and you chuckle at this.
but the drummer catches you. a smile snaking its way to his lips as he nods his head to your direction when your eyes meet. “you’re a new face. tsukishima’s?”
you immediately shake your head, “a friend.” you purse your lips into a thin line but the air gets awkward when tsukishima’s hand slips and accidentally strums a loud note that echoes repeatedly.
“oh yeah?” the drummer lolls out. “nice to meet ya. suna rintarou. as you can see—drummer.”
yeah, you’ve known his name all this time, only because tsukishima has been cursing him over and over again with every thrust that he delivers sending shivers down your spine to how good it feels when the tip of his cock hits your good spot.
he begins drumming a piece that doesn’t sound anything like the arrangement they’re playing. and it sounds so familiar. he keeps his eyes on you while he bangs on the drum set.
you look down and realize you’re wearing a band shirt. and he’s playing a song of theirs.
“yeah?” he nods along and there’s a smile on your face when you realize that he just recognized them. “fellow obscure artist listener?” he ends the piece with a chuckle, bopping his head when you finally vibe with him.
there’s a wide smile on your lips when you inch closer, dragging yourself so you can speak a bit closer. “oh yeah.” you point to your shirt and he laughs.
“tell me your favorites.” and the conversation lasts for another five minutes or so until suna is finally pulled out of the interaction when the bassist strums harshly, ushering him to continue with the practice.
“really sorry, but we need to practice, yeah?”
tsukishima is fed up again. a deadpan expression on his face as his grip on the guitar’s neck tightens and he almost snaps his pick into two. he looks up before finally strumming it harshly when his part comes in.
his guitar is louder and suna looks back at him, “yo. too loud. turn it down.”
he subtly rolls his eyes under his closed eyes before obliging, tuning down his amp so that their instruments blend smoothly again.
and you’re unaware of everything.
you spend the entire afternoon listening to their arrangement over and over again. and along the way, you actually build some sort of connection with suna when he remarks out comments that only you catch the reference to because it’s about your favorite band.
when the practice is over, tsukishima calls out to you while he’s putting his things back into his bag, swirling the wire around his fingers so it’s tucked neatly. you walk over to his side with raised eyebrows, “yeah?”
he tucks the wire inside the bag, “let me take you home.” he stand in front you, exhausted with the extensive practice they just did and his shoulders slump lazily. he looks down on you, begging that you say yes.
you swallow a lump before pathetically looking away, “you really don’t have to.” you try but he insists. “please.”
you can hear the yearning in his voice. although his expressions don’t say much, you’ve grown closer to him that even with the slightest shift of tone in his voice, you notice.
and while you’re as emotionally wrecked as he is right now, your body lets out a sigh and your head nods. “alright.”
and you don’t understand how you’re easily giving into him and his selfish needs that he uses you to forget his own problems. perhaps, your mind has adapted to the lifestyle that you two have agreed on.
you follow him to his car outside the campus. you’re comfortable in the passenger seat—there is a tube of lip gloss, a compact mirror along with an unused handkerchief and a packet of rubber in his compartment, evidence that you’re expected every time.
you notice it, even if it’s a small detail, because your heart warms to the fact that he does these little things.
little things that barely mean anything. and the fact that you let it linger in your mind longer than necessary, haunts you.
because it shouldn’t be anything.
it shouldn’t occupy such a vulnerable space inside of your mind. but it does, and that scares you.
that’s why little by little, you’re trying to say no. to refuse when he asks for you and your body. because you’re opening up piece by piece and to you, he’s still a hard shell you’ve yet to unravel. and it’s hard because there’s unwillingness from him.
there’s obvious reluctance in opening up to you—as if you’re unwelcome to the raw version of him. while you are slowly being unveiled unintentionally by him and his confusing actions.
the engine revs and the car finally starts moving. there’s quiet silence in the way that you two are just sitting, eyes up front to the view of the road and lips unmoving without words.
but you want to talk. you want to talk to him about everything.
but you’re scared that if you do, you’d cross another boundary in your so-called partnership.
so instead of initiating a conversation, you wait. even if it takes minutes before he finally speaks, you’ll hold on to that little hope that tsukishima’s lips will moves to say words that you’d hear out.
“you were really happy with suna back there.”
he breaks the silence with the words you least expected you’d hear from him.
your head snaps to the side, eyes a tad bit wider than normal as you peer your head to see his expression. you can’t see his face clearly—it’s hidden underneath the stray bangs that covered half of his face when he has his chin on his propped hand, one hand on the steering wheel.
you lean back to your seat when the seatbelt restricted you from leaning in further. there’s a frustrated thud when you do.
“really? i didn’t even notice.”
there’s a disbelieved scoff exiting his lips when you say the last word. “yeah, hard to notice when you’re so into the conversation you two were having.” there’s a sarcastic sneer when he says it and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
you chuckle mockingly when you realize the story.
“yeah?” you taunt, “what’s it to you if i had fun?” there’s wit when you say it, a hidden intention to push tsukishima’s buttons.
his hand turns white when his grip onto the steering wheel tightens, eyebrows furrowing when your words get to him.
you decide to push further, “does it make you jealous?” a toothy grin up your lips and your eyes side-eye him to check his expressions.
his jaw tightens and you see the firm grip he has on the steering wheel. then after a fleeting moment, a scoff is all that he can give you as a response.
not a sentence, no word, just a scoff.
it weirds you out—the way that he doesn’t put in any effort to deny what you just said. a simple no would’ve been nice.
“why would it? it’s not like we’re together or what—” you look away immediately but your words get interrupted with a harsh screech from his car. and when you look out the window, your apartment’s in view.
“get out,” the lock of the doors to his car clicks open as he firmly tells you to get out of his car.
out of surprise, you aren’t able to move in time when his patience finally runs out. his own seatbelt clicks before he’s hovering over you, pulling the seatbelt off of you before grabbing you by your collar and the next thing you realize happening is your lips against him in a harsh kiss.
his teeth graze your lips and it feels suffocating because he does it with so much force. the hand he has on your collar loosens and relocates to grip your chin with the same amount of intensity.
your hand immediately comes up to push against his chest and he pulls away, eyes lingering on your widened ones.
“the fuck?” you curse out before patting your shirt back down when he gripped it upwards earlier. “what’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”
he sighs out before running a hand through his hair and adjusting his glasses as he leans back to his seat to grip the wheel again.
he clicks his own door open before spitting out a cold “i said get out.”
he gets off the car and walks around to open your door, his hand slips around your wrist to tug you out. it’s firm but the careful gentleness is still there. the door slams close and he clicks his key to lock the doors. he yanks you again, this time towards your apartment door where he opens with zero hesitation with his own keys that you gave him.
the door creaks open and he pushes you inside before intruding in himself. at this point, you’re just going with everything that he’s doing, too startled to even form a coherent sentence to ask him what’s wrong.
and it all becomes clear when the door closes with a slam and you’re pressed against it. the lock clicks when he turns it.
“is this what this is about?” you finally speak out when he hovers quietly over you, head resting low, powerless from your words. “me and him talking and you don’t like that?” there’s a laugh in between your words, as if to mock his current situation that he so dreaded from happening.
your head turns to the side to look away with an unamused grin on your lips because he’s refusing to speak clearly to you.
as much as you want him to man up and speak, you know he has no obligations in doing that to you. because again, this is mere physical intimacy—nothing emotional is supposed to be going on.
“talk to me, tsukishima.” your voice is low, desperation still seeping through as your hand tightens into a fist.
the hand he had planted next to your hand snakes surrenderingly to the side of your head. cupping your cheeks and caressing the softness of your skin before he leans in to kiss you again.
“kei.” he corrects you but it does nothing to soothe the fast beating of your heart.
your lips are molding into one another again when he pulls you back in, plump flesh intertwined into a passionate share of kiss. his lips are trying to open yours and when you get the signal, you let his tongue inside. he’s tangling you both into a knot, as if he’s desperate to become one with you.
you let out a lewd sound when his fingers make contact with your neck, slowly encasing until he’s got you in a chokehold—perks of this partnership is that he knows what you want.
he only gets more and more aroused when he feels your throat vibrating with your muffled sounds, helpless when his lips are devouring your own.
he pulls away but his grip tightens, “you know how i feel about him.” he spits out and your eyebrows furrow—did you actually make him jealous?
“why—” your breath hitches when his free hand leaves your waist and moves to lazily push the buttons of your blouse off. you try to pay no mind to his sensual shenanigans, “—do you care? why should… i adjust for you?”
you know what game you’re playing here, you are all too aware that you have the upperhand. just a few more words and you can coax the words that you’ve been meaning to hear from his own red and swollen lips.
“are you seriously jealous?”
your words hold humor but there’s clear intention behind them. and when tsukishima doesn’t speak, you take it as a yes.
“but why?” you ask breathily when his hand falls flat on your stomach—your blouse now open and your torso out in the air. “we agreed to no strings attached.” you chuckle sarcastically but your teasing lilt falls silent when his hand makes its way around you to unclasp your bra with ease.
it falls onto the ground and you’re half-naked in front of him, still begging that he tells you something.
it's ironic to you, you're asking questions and telling words that contradict your own feelings. because, since when did you ever see this as something so light as "no strings attached"?
his lips twitch when he hears you ask why, but his body refuses to listen to his unorganized mind that begs him to take a moment. he lowers his body before tilting his head to latch onto your nipple, his other hand stroking your breast and it only fuels his desires when he hears you failing to hold back your moans.
“i asked… ngh—you why.” you’re close to crying when the desperation to keep him so close to you and the restless need for answers begin to combine.
your fingers tangle themselves into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer when his tongue starts to do wonders on your perked up nipples. your knees buck and you melt in between the door and him sucking on your nipple. your core is aching and you feel your panties getting wetter with every passing moment.
he pulls back, “i’m sorry.” he mumbles out while his hand is slowly undoing the lock on your pants, pulling
down the zipper before he takes it halfway off of you.
he’s not even letting you catch your breath when he kneels down, takes your leg and puts it over his shoulder.
“why—” you’re lost for words when his nose hits your aching core. he sniffs your panties without shame, making your cheeks warmer than ever and your thighs painful with the need to close them but his head is in between them. “why are you saying sorry…?”
he acts as if he doesn’t hear you when his teeth makes contact with your wet pussy, he pulls your panties off with his teeth and you let out a moan of his name, “fuck, kei—!” and without sparing another second, he clings onto your hot sensitiveness with his tongue entering you in a matter of seconds.
with just this, you feel overstimulated. your shoulders and hands are trembling when you hold onto his broad shoulders, he’s constantly nipping and sucking onto your wetness without breaks and it feels like you’re about to break any second.
there are tears forming in your eyes, lips bleeding when you bite onto them hard when his tongue continues to please you up until he’s had you squirting all over his face.
“kei… it feels so fucking—ah—good.”
he pulls back, holds onto your waist when you start to fall under your own weight—the orgasm taking over your strength and you feel like a melting candle under his flame hot passion to make you his.
he then carries you bridal style, moves across the living area to meet with your bed’s edge. he tosses you harshly onto the bed, pulls off your pants completely along with your underwear.
you try to fight back, in hopes that you come down from your high completely first but he doesn’t back down. instead, he kisses all over stomach while actively taking his shirt off.
he stands tall over you, eyes free of the glasses he usually wore and his eyebrows furrowed. there’s evident confusion in his eyes, but there’s also a lingering need behind them. and you can’t exactly pinpoint what kind of need—it’s not the usual glint of lust you see when you two do this, it’s far more intense to just be labeled as a sign of lust.
he reaches out for your wrist and guides your hand over his toned abs. his fingers caressing your own while he does so.
when you two are looking into each other’s eyes, your lips move to speak.
“do you love me?”
your hand drops to your side when he lets go abruptly. there’s a frown on his lips before he tilted his head to the side while his fingers were busy undoing his pants.
“what would you want to hear?”
he places both of his hand beside your head and he hovers completely, his dick hangs loose off the restriction of his pants and it’s fully erect with arousal, the tip touching your stomach when he teases you unintentionally.
the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes finally fell loose. your eyebrows furrowed with emotions and your body is shaking when you reach out to wrap your arms around him.
he lowers himself a little and the next thing you feel is your inside slowly growing fuller and fuller with his length.
“oh fuck.” he groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels you pulsating against him. it’s utterly sexy to him—the way you feel so welcoming when he’s fully inside, as if your pussy has been waiting for his dick.
you bite your lips down and there’s an loving feel to your expression.
“i can’t do this anymore, [name].” is what he says before he begins to thrust into you at a slow pace. his hips hitting yours when he does so, “i can’t fuck you properly when you’ve just talked like that with him.”
he speaks as if his name is not worth muttering.
his pace grows faster, groaning with every hit. his hair is disheveled and there is sweat rolling down his face, “i can’t have you talking with him when you’re like this with me.” he watches your face contort with pleasure.
“so fucking vulnerable with me and you let him talk to you like that?”
now it’s obvious.
he’s faster than ever now, the bed creaks and you’re scared it might break with his pace and intensity. you’re crying now, begging that he go slow because it feels like he’s splitting you open. but he doesn’t falter.
“go… fuck—ah—slower!” you mewl out with a loud moan, your heartbeat fast when you realize your volume. “kei—!”
“i can’t slow down baby,” he groans out, his hips bucking into you making your body vibrate and jiggle. “not when you’ve made me feel like this.”
you close your eyes, mind circling with stars as you’re drunk with the feeling of his dick becoming one with you. you’re tightening with every second, pleasure washing over you like never before. he groans out loudly when he begins aching from the suffocating hold you had on him.
tsukishima plants his hands on your hips firmly when he feels his high coming, and before you know it, you feel empty when he pulls out. he doesn’t even need to give it a stroke before white goodness starts gushing out of his dick and he’s spraying it onto your stomach.
he notices that you’re still not coming so he immediately puts three fingers inside of you before muttering a small, “sorry.” as he pumps them in and out in lightning speed that has you trembling in no time.
“fuck fuck, wait—kei—” you yell out, holding onto his hands as if telling him that your body is in pain and when he pulls away, your body releases. white cum and you’re squirting all over him too.
he breathes out heavily as he watches you come undone beneath him. your breasts are red with bite marks, pussy wet with clear and white liquids and your hair disheveled when he tugged onto them a while ago.
he licks his lips before lowering himself onto you, giving your swollen, lonely lips a fat kiss.
when you two are sitting side by side on the edge of the bed with the covers around your naked body and him half-naked holding a lit up cigarette in one hand, there is comforting silence. he hands you the cigarette and lets you take a blow.
“let me stay by your side, i promise i’ll make it worthwhile.”
im my no1 hater when it comes to my own works <3 this is pure word vomit & kinda rushed bcs i got lazy
synopsis : sae comes home expecting comfort, only to find his girlfriend avoiding him for reasons he doesn’t understand, forcing him to confront the growing tension between them.
content: 18+, nsfw, plot heavy
word count: 5.3k
note: not proof read but nasty
the video appears randomly on your feed—a new interview that happened just a while ago while sae was attending a celebration as a guest.
a journalist comes up to him with a hot topic, and the question blurs in your ears the moment you heard the journalist ask. "rising athlete itoshi sae, the people are asking: is there or is there not a girl behind the scenes?"
sae doesn't answer instead he just looks at the journalist with a stoic expression on his face, intimidating the writer.
and upon not having any answers, the journalist puts matters into their own hands. "okay, you get it guys? silence means... no!"
wasn't it the other way around?
"you heard it girls and guys, rising athlete itoshi sae is single!"
the reporter had easily twisted sae's actions. the camera swiftly switches to the next public figure adjacent to sae leaving him no choice but to accept the fact that he fucked up.
perhaps his choice to stay quiet in hopes that the reporter second guesses his decision to ask him such a private question was wrong. perhaps, privacy isn't such a big deal in social media today.
sae subtly rolls his eyes before ushering his manager to the mini bar station where the party was offering cocktails, in hopes to relieve his stress.
unfortunately for you, the video online ends where the journalist announces that rising star itoshi sae is single.
your eyebrows furrow, ears hearing a deafening silence when the video goes off. your eye twitches as soon as you open the comment section. thousands of fans commenting as if they're going to secure a spot next to the itoshi sae.
you knew what you were signing up for when you began dating sae. but you never expected that fame would take him from you this fast.
the denial, the non-committal effort to correct the journalist all point out to how sae's slowly getting farther and farther from you. and the fact that he's never home these days doesn't help.
maybe it was wishful thinking that this relationship could last.
or maybe you're just thinking too much into it for your overthinking mind to bear.
you don't know what it is that fills you. is it sorrow or is it your temper slowly seeping out of you? that, you cannot know for sure right now.
nonetheless, you can't bring yourself to scroll down the comments any further. there's a clutch in your chest and it gets tighter with every passing moment that your eyes skim over the fan commentary of the video.
the house is surrounded with white noise as you try to get your mind off of it. you clean, you read, you watch tv. anything that doesn't include holding your phone you did already. because once your fingers are wrapped around your phone, you'd be consumed by the need to check the video again.
that night, sae comes home clad in his black slacks and a plain white tee. seems like he had the time to change outfit before coming home to you.
the front door opens and your heart skips a beat from where you were eating in the dining area. you swallow a lump but you remain composed, acting as though you're not about to give sae the most gut wrenching silent treatment.
there's a thud in the floor, signalling that sae had put his bags down with little to no effort. the shoes in the front door scratch the wooden floor and it's all so loud. all of the sudden, you're hyper conscious of every little sound that emits from every corner of the house.
"i'm home." he calls out from the living area. his steps are light as he traverses the bridge between the living and dining area, looking for you.
he spots you sitting on the dining table munching on a dessert bowl you prepared yourself. sae looks around, searching for signs of food but he sees nothing except your dessert bowl.
he stands at the edge of the dining table, plants his palms on them and peers down at you. "you're not eating proper dinner?" he assumes already and you feel ticked by it.
normally, you'd be used to sae's small sessions of scolding you for not eating your meals properly but this one particular time you're kind of pissed off to hear him scold you.
your eyebrows furrow but you don't speak just yet.
"hey," he calls out again. "answer." there's that stern tone he uses when he's berating you for not taking care of yourself.
but really, this time, he's just annoying you and your perfectly curated dessert bown of nothing but sweet goodness and one speck of fruit.
when he realizes that you don't have any plans on responding, he scoffs out an offended huff. tossing his head to the side to avoid looking at you with an exasperated expression. he licks his lips wet before pushing himself off of the table.
"i've got no energy to deal with this, [name]." he dismisses it altogether easily, and your lips turn downwards into a frown when you hear the door to your shared room slam close loudly.
you don't acknowledge yourself for being petty because you remember the video again.
you bite onto your dessert with gritted teeth, upset with the fact that he dismisses you like that after denying you on public television.
it's not like you two ever agreed to keep this all a secret, so why is he acting like you're some sort of forbidden treasure he's got to keep a secret from the world?
you value your privacy really, but to be denied is another thing. especially when it's inviting wandering eyes into the situation because sae is, without mistake, a public figure. it is wrong to want him to be yours and yours alone only?
you roll your eyes to yourself, slamming the wooden spoon onto the empty bowl before harshly standing up and hearing the seat screech against the tiles. your actions are now reflecting your unquiet insecurity that your overthinking mind brought you.
the harsh slam echoes against the thin walls of the house and it reaches your shared room to where sae is currently in, dressing out of his clothes to wear comfortable ones.
he hisses in the sharpness of it and wonders what's got you in such a mood.
he turns the doorknob with the same intensity, the oak door flying open as he searches for your to ask what's going in but he finds no sign of you.
he furrows his eyebrows in frustration but he hears the sink in the bathroom run in gentle current and his mind settles again, at ease to know you haven't left the house.
he's restless. the fact that you haven't spoken a word to him ever since he came back from work has had him at his wit's ends. and all of the sudden, he's got no courage to open up a random topic to you and yap about his day because your demeanor has intimidated him.
at the end of the day, itoshi sae is still your long term partner who has surrendered his strong front in exchange for intimacy and vulnerability that is exclusive to you and only you.
the evening drives by fast and in the blink of an eye, sae is laid on the bed, staring up to the ceiling with coldness emitting from beside him. your side of the bed is empty, and sae's all so aware of this.
last time he had seen you was when you were busying yourself with your monitor back in the living area. he washed up hoping you'd be ready for bed the moment he's out but no.
he's done with everything and yet, you're still outside the bedroom. indulged in whatever work that's keeping you occupied. with one lamp turned on in a warm setting and the bright light from your monitor, the entire house is shrouded in darkness except in your small work corner where you stay, refusing to speak or acknowledge his presence.
now that he's settled in this oddly spacious bed, his thoughts are rowdy in the quiet calmness of his solitude.
he can't help but think about it. why is his usually bubbly girlfriend refusing to acknowledge his presence? or is he thinking too much into it and you're merely too busy to even bat an eye.
sae's patience wears thin.
the next morning comes around fast. sae closes his eyes and the next when he's opening them, he's met wit the bright light of dawn and an empty space beside him. his alarm goes off a few moment after he wakes up.
seems like the strangely cold ambiance of the room drove him to open his eyes and be met with no source of warmth beside him.
he groans when he realizes that you're really nowhere to be seen in your supposed shared room. the usually warm morning he wakes up is non-existent. he runs a hand through his hair, frustration slowly building up.
but sae's got no idea how to cope. does he willingly commit to whatever you're pulling and just let you be? or does he put in effort to coax out whatever the problem is going on with you that is getting in the way of your relationship?
he's in a slump.
nonetheless, he doesn't act on it immediately. he decides to wait until you break out of your bratty character that refuses to recognize his on going frustration.
he gets ready for the day after checking his packed schedule. he thinks for a moment while buttoning up the shirt he decided to wear.
does he tell you about the schedule and be ignored? or does he stay quiet and play along with whatever's wrong with you and let his frustration build even further?
sae's dilemma continues.
up until he's munching on a piece of bread he toasted himself because you're too occupied with your work for the day to even bat him an eye and offer that you cook up something quick so that he doesn't tire himself throughout the day for not eating the most important meal of the day.
he's getting tired.
he watches you by the kitchen island. leaning against the marble furniture, lips wet with water that he drank, eyes studying as you squirm in your reclining chair, looming over the data on your monitor.
he becomes all hyperconscious of what your wearing and how you're perched up on the recliner chair that he bought you. a thin oversized shirt draped over your figure with nothing underneath it. the shirt settles gently just beneath the flesh of thighs and he gets a peek when you place your legs onto the chair.
he looks away immediately. throat closing in and his jaw tightening. he tosses the glass onto the sink, running water over it as he leans lazily against it. his lips are pursed together tightly.
he leaves the kitchen, goes around towards the living room, grabs a coat from the rack and hangs it over one shoulder.
"i'm going to work." he calls out while putting on his shoes. "be back before dinner." he reminds but you don't listen.
he waits by the doorway for a while, an irk mark appearing on his forehead when he realizes that you’re not paying any attention to him again.
you stay focused on your work. or at least, you tried to.
you heave out a sigh when an unfamiliar data comes across your screen. you lean back and the chair reclines, you cross your arms over your chest and you think about how to manage this.
the house is suddenly quiet. you wonder if sae’s gone to work. so you look around. slowly turning your chair to see if everything’s safe. but that’s where it goes downhill.
when you turn around, you’re met with sae standing in front of you and your eyes meet for the first time since last night. he looks down on you as if you’ve wronged him, and for a fraction of second, you feel so small. the way he towers over you is intimidating, not to mention the way his one hand is settled on his hip.
he’s mad, and it’s evident in his gaze.
you bite back your shame, trying to recover by turning back around but that just made everything even worse.
one hand firmly lands on your chair’s arm rest and you’re quick to be rotated back to face him. this time, sae’s leaning down. crouching down to stare at you at an eye’s level.
your eyes meet his immediately. but it doesn’t take you long to regain composure and you remember what he’s done so your head turns to the side at light speed, avoiding his gaze altogether.
sae rolls his eyes at your pathetic move to avoid his gaze.
his free hand moves and the next thing you realize is him holding you by your chin, forcing you look back at him. his grip is harsh, the frustration he’s feeling is evident with the way that it’s undeniably firm.
you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a bratty look. he scoffs at this. but that’s all he does before going in for a rough kiss.
he’s moulding his lips with yours, inserting his tongue in between when he notices your lips are slightly agape from surprise. your eyes are wide while his are staring back at you with nothing but rage. but the way that you’re not doing a lot to fight against his kiss tells him that you’ve been waiting for this too.
so instead of pulling away to give you time to breathe, he pulls you in even further. you almost choke with the way that he’s kissing you with so much heat. it makes you look pathetic but he knows you so well that he’s got a kiss memorized to the way that it makes you moan out in satisfaction.
when he hears you, he immediately pulls away. and you’re left with swollen lips when he pushes you against the chair’s back. your eyebrows furrow and he knows that he left you unsatisfied when he pulled away so suddenly when you’ve just begun enjoying it.
“don’t know what’s gotten you so upset but don’t go depriving me of my kisses, yeah?”
he says that and he leaves for work.
you roll your eyes when he waves a mocking goodbye before leaving.
the door shuts close and you’re left alone with the deafening silence of the house. whatever you’re doing it frustrating not only him, but you too.
and you only realize it when your lower extremities starts pulsating with the way that he kissed you just now. and to edge you with an unfinished make out session? you start questioning if this is still worth the act.
you recline your chair to the maximum, groaning with the way your body is tingling with the unsatisfied feeling of having your desires unmet with the man that you love. there’s a frown on your lips and an on going heat forming underneath your panties.
the hand on your face slowly makes its way to your neck and you hear yourself breathing heavily when everything else is so silent. your monitor hums softly and your chest heaves up and down in a slow tempo.
your fingers begin to tease your buds. you bite down onto your lips when one finger begins to rub your nipple. your eyes close as you begin fondling your breast, and the need to have sae’s tongue circling your nipple grows stronger with every rub you do to yourself.
you’re torturing yourself. and it gets even more painful when your free hand starts to trace down your hips and to your clothes pussy. your panties are soaked and your finger starts to circle on the wet patch.
your shame is non-existent when you put your panties to the side to have your slender fingers make contact with the wet result of your sexual frustration.
your lips are agape when you let your fingers rub against the entrance of your soaking pussy. the friction feels insane to you, and it leaves you wanting more. you speed up and you feel a tight knot forming in your lower stomach. but it’s not enough.
your nails graze the insides of your sensitiveness. and it feels surreal. it doesn’t take long before your impatience gets the best of you and you begin pumping your two digits in and out. there’s a wet sound resonating through the living room and you can’t hear anything else except it—not even your muffled moans because you have your lips in between your teeth.
you can’t help but echo out sae’s name when your fingers are speeding up. but it’s nowhere near the speed and the length of sae’s fingers. it doesn’t quite reach the good spot that leaves you empty in the head.
so when you come, it feels unfinished. your hands are soaked with your cum and everything else.
it’s nasty. the view of you with your fingers tucked inside your pussy and the other hand fondling your breast. your lips agape, saliva dripping down on one corner.
oh what would sae say.
the front door clicks open and there’s shuffling. you swallow a lump, turning a page of your book, trying to act all nonchalant with your boyfriend’s arrival from work at a rather early time.
you want to ask him why’s home so early but you can’t bring yourself to speak with him without thinking about how he has denied you on national television.
“i’m back.” he calls out and expects a reply but still nothing so he huffs out when he realizes you’re still on this silent treatment game that is making him look desperate and pathetic.
sae enters the living area and sees you by the couch, occupied with a book. you wore an oversized shirt and very short shorts underneath that if not seen in view, one would mistake you as half-naked.
he places his bag on the table. “what have you been up to all day?” he asks, attempting small talk. “reading books?”
but nothing.
and there’s no more of sae’s patience.
“alright,” he starts. voice dropping an octave. “why are you so upset? you don’t even speak to me anymore.” he calls out and your heart skips a beat, realizing that he’s talking about it.
but he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know why you’re so upset and somehow, that made you even more upset.
you don’t answer again. “hey.” he perks his head up. “i’m talking to you?” his voice is sarcastic now, offended with the way that you’re really committed to this silent treatment shit.
there’s a moment of silence before your book suddenly leaves your hand. he slams the book onto the glass table and his bag tumbles down. alarmed with the way he’s acting, you push yourself back against the couch but he doesn’t let you.
he catches your ankle and pulls you back in. he puts his arm beneath your knee and the other on your back, he hoists you off the couch with almost zero effort and you’re left limply trying to get off of him but his tight hold against you made it hard.
he stomps across the living room and he reaches the front door of your shared room. he kicks it open with one foot and pushes it forward.
upset, he tosses you onto the bed and you bounce against the mattress. you immediately crawl back until your back it against the bed rest but again he doesn’t let you. he pulls you back onto the edge and your legs are on either side of his hips now.
“still not gonna tell me?”
he stares down at you as if to make you feel dumb. you feel small under him, and it doesn’t help when he puts a hand beside you and he leans in making you fall flat on your back. the distance slowly disappears and the next second he’s talking directly to your face.
his breath fans your nose, “what’s up?” he raises an eyebrow, licks his lips and you catch the way his eyes travel down to your reddened cheeks and lips.
there’s a slow silence in between now when sae falls silent. he’s gazing down to every inch of whatever is in front of his view—the entirety of your beautiful face and your perked up nipples beneath the thin oversized shirt you’re wearing.
you grows equally frustrated. “come on, baby.” he whimpers and the desperation is obvious with the way he’s trailing his words.
his head hangs low and you can’t see his expression anymore. next thing you know is he’s leaning down onto your neck. his hand searching for yours before he bites down onto the flesh of your skin. it’s harsh and his teeth dig into your skin, desperate that he marks you.
you wince and your eyes close in pleasure. there’s now a red mark on your neck and he licks over it to ease the pain that he has inflicted on you. he apologizes lowly before moving to the other side and kiss the upper part of your neck just below your jaw.
you crane your neck to the side unconsciously, giving him more space to kiss all over your vulnerable neck. his tongue traces down a trail of saliva and he bites down on the flesh part of your neck again. he sucks against it, lapping on it and when he releases, there’s a bruise.
“tell me.” the hums out, his throat vibrating against your skin and he continues to mark you. he goes down to your collarbone, biting down to every fleshy part he comes across. not even minding if it can’t be covered.
you shake your head. squirming under him, “can’t tell you—ah,” you huff out a breathy moan when his hand invades you beneath your shirt. he wastes no time and starts fondling your breast. “you gotta…” you breathe out, “remember what you did.”
he rolls his eyes before he uses one hand to push the shirt over your head. you let him do so, giving him a nonverbal permission. you’re sprawled out on the bed with your upper body in the view for him to adore and mark.
his lips tug upward and he’s never been this turned on. your chest heaving up and down in a slow pace. but it’s deep—the way you’re looking right into his eyes. as if you’re desperate for him.
how are you able to make his dick ache with so much pain by just laying down beneath him? it’s honestly magic to him. how he’s still so down bad for you even after you’ve made him so sexually, physically, and emotionally frustrated.
“say it.” he nods to you.
but you don’t reply immediately, instead you shake your waist sensually against him. arching your hips just a tad bit so that your wetness comes in contact with his bricked up dick.
he rolls his eyes back and he doesn’t care one bit if he looks so pathetic in front of you right now. because he needs you so bad, and it doesn’t help his situation that you’re actively seducing him to do rough sex just so that you’ll admit whatever is on your mind.
he lowers himself down onto your perked up bud, lapping onto it and he stares up at you when he does so. you make eye-contact and you melt. your back arches, inviting him to bite against your nipple to get a reaction.
and he gets what he wants.
“ah, fuck. sae—” you moan out his name when both of your breasts are so full of his attention. one receiving mouth game from him and the other is being loved by the slenderness of his fingers.
but he’s not convinced at all. he licks your stomach while he tugs your shorts off. you bite your lips as you look down to see him kissing the space between your navel and pussy. the distance between the two drives you crazy because you just want him inside of you and nothing else.
he watches as you squirm when his lips make in contact with your bare inner thigh.
“stop teasing for fuck’s sake.” you curse out, feet pushing him away but he catches your ankles and uses it as leverage to push your thighs open. you wince when the pain hits your bones.
“oh yeah?” he hums out before finally placing his wet lips onto your equally wet pussy.
he begins to expertly circle around your sensitive bud. two of his hands settle firmly on your thighs, trying to keep them open when you’re trying to close them to avoid overstimulation. he closes his eyes, focused in the way that his saliva is mixing with your fluids. his lips feel sticky but that’s the way that he likes it.
how can he not like it when you’re slowly unfolding before him? when the way that his tongue is exploring the inside of you is the reason for your eager moaning?
you cry out his name when you unravel. “fuck you, sae.” you curse him out when your thighs tremble and your body shivers with the gravity of the pleasure that’s taking over you.
he stares back at you with a smirk. proud of what he has done. he looms over with the way that your body is unravelling and your pussy leaks out your white goodness.
he stands in front of you and he cups your pussy with one hand, pushing in his middle finger just when your cum stops spilling out. he begins to pump it in and out and your eyes widen.
“w—wait, i’m still—”
you call out but you stutter when he adds his ring finger in. he raises an eyebrow, ushering you to continue but his speed and length makes it hard to speak and organize your thoughts again. he mocks you by adding another finger in and his speed accelerates. he holds your thigh down when you begin trembling, fingers hitting that one spot and it doesn’t take you long to spill out again.
sae retracts his fingers when your thighs close from the wave of pleasure washing over you. he shakes off the wetness on his hands and he unbuckles his pants with one hand. pulling out his belt and tosses it onto the floor before letting his pants pool on the floor.
your whining out your overstimulation when you see sae stroking his dick in front of you. a tear falls out of your eyes and it trickles down your cheek. it doesn’t go unnoticed by sae, so when he leans down, the tip of his dick touches your entrance. he crawls over you, wipes the tear away and kisses your cheek before slowly sliding into you.
you moan out his name when his dick fills you to the hilt. his size and girth overfilling every corner of you tight pussy. he groans when he feels suffocated inside you.
“fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” he moans out, stroking the bump on your stomach, asking that you loosen up before he cums inside youwithout even starting.
you do as you’re told and you calm yourself down but the fact that he’s so big doesn’t help. your lips trembles and your eyes water again. when sae’s busy adjusting to your tightness, you’re crying beneath him. your arms over your eyes, whimpering out your sobs.
“you said—” you choke out and sae shoot up to look at you immediately when he hears how your voice is incomplete and you’re sobbing out your words. you sniffle, “on national television that you don’t have a girlfriend.”
you finally reveal it when your tears swallow your face. every inch of your cheeks wet with your tears. you’re crying and it’s because of him—from both angst and overstimulation.
sae listens, and your pussy loosens around him when you finally let your feelings out.
“mhm.” he hums out, acknowledging that you continue with your rant. he props his hand flat on the matress and begins to move inside you. he thrusts gently at first when he waits for you to continue.
you whimper, “why would you, ah, d—deny me?” you croak, now crying out without restrictions.
when sae hears your words, his pace fastens and his thrusts go harsher. he copes with the idea of his wrongdoings by firmly holding onto one side of your waist and heatedly smashing both of your bodies together with every thrust that he initiates.
“yeah?” he groans out, a moan exiting when pleasure begins building up inside him too. you feel so good around him right now and that fact that you’re crying over him turns him even more and he’s motivated with the fact that he needs to do some serious making up because he has made his pretty girl upset.
he lets go of your hips and he circles his thumb around your clit. he positions one of your legs over his shoulder and he thrusts even deeper. your moaning out every echoing slap of your skin together, a choked moan for every thrust that he does.
he leans over you, kisses your lips and you catch him with ease. he leans back and kisses away your tears. “i’m sorry.” an apology from him and you’re back to moaning out his name.
“fuck your apologies.” you curse out, almost spitting on him and he understands your frustration. he lets you curse him but with the way you’re actively moaning with every thrust assures him that you don’t mean a thing.
he pushes in harshly, shoots his load deep inside you as you do the same by spilling out around his cock. he groans, tilts his head back.
“oh fuck [name], you feel so fucking good.” he curses underneath his breath and he lays flat on you. he breathes out muffled words, “what should i do to make you feel better about it, hm?”
when he’s vulnerable, you turn both of you around so that he’d be the one laying down and you’re on top straddling him. he looks up at you in disbelief and he only scoffs.
“let me ride you while you beg for my forgiveness.” he begin to move yourself back and forth on his cock and it feels sticky with the cum residue that sticks on your skin. but the sensation isn’t bothering you and sae’s dick is pulsating inside of you.
you place both of your hands onto his chest before you begin to bounce. sae is amused. with the way that you’re jumping on his cock, your boobs bouncing with every ride and your lips agape, unable to conceal the sexiness of your frustration.
he finds you beautiful even like this. naked on top of him, ready to challenge his dominance. eyes staring blankly down at him, asking that he say sorry for what he’s done.
he rests his hands on your hips, circling his thumb around your skin before he thrusts his hips up and you’re recoiling with the way that he does it so suddenly. his speed takes over you and you’re now lowering yourself onto him.
“oh, fuck—” you mewl out lewdly, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and it’s honestly music to his ears.
“would you take it as an apology if i married you, so we could announce it to the whole world?”
@/bluelock_news: athlete ITOSHI SAE announces marriage to non-showbiz, long-term girlfriend!
[one pic attached: itoshi sae’s bare back in the view with a girl wrapped around his arms. a glint of a diamond ring can be seen.]
synopsis : what began as simple teasing and speculation gradually turned into a consistent habit
content: slight nsfw – making out, plot heavy, lowkey ooc yuta
word count: 5.7k
note: not proof read, highkey word vomit
yuji exits from the rear door and sees you and yuta alongside a few others—no, the whole group. he waves a hello and yells out a loud, “hey!”
everyone turns their head to the side to see yuji skipping his way to them at a near distance.
“oh, yuji, are you done with clean-up duties?” maki grins out and yuji rolls his eyes knowing that he’s been assigned to do clean-up duties alone because he lost a game.
“i asked him to pick between morning clean-up duties or afternoon and he chose morning.” fushiguro says while yuji eyes him carefully.
the whole group laughs when he stomps the remaining steps towards the empty space beside fushiguro and nobara. settling down onto the green grass, he can’t help but chuckle when nobara pinches his waist to tease him further.
the sun is bright and out and everything feels just right. sat beside yuta under an oak tree, you watch how the group converse with each other with obvious familiarity and comfort. a smile makes its way to your lips when you realize how strangely warm you’re feeling right now.
“you alright?”
a voice steals you back to reality. his voice fading the background of laughter and your attention focuses solely on him now.
you tilt your head to the side to see yuta leaning down, face close to your own, and his eyes wide in interest as to why your cheeks are blaring red right now.
“huh?” was the only thing you can blurt out.
having yuta’s face so close to your own and his hand resting behind you to prop himself straight so he can lean down with no problem is not exactly the most ideal situation to be in considering how your face can often betray how you actually feel.
“you’re like really red right now, [name].”
your eyes stare back at him when he asks that and for a second, you question why are you both staring at each other so deeply as if you’ve got your own little world.
but the tension dies down when you shake your head frantically, causing him to back away. more so when you put a hand between you two to create some sort of gap because the proximity is driving you a tad bit crazy.
“yeah, i’m okay just… suffocated.” you breathed out, opening one button on the upper part of your uniform revealing a white shirt underneath it.
“ah, training.” panda blurts out, completely ruining the happy mood that everyone’s in by reminding that they still got quota for the day.
nobara rolls her eyes, “let’s go [name]-senpai, maki-senpai.” she stands up lazily from the green grass, inviting you two to change with her.
before standing up, you spare yuta a glance. a smile makes its way to your lips before following nobara and maki.
when finished with changing, you three made your way to the open field to see everyone else warming up before starting. descending the flight of concrete stairs towards them, your eyes stilled on yuta who is clad in a loose navy blue shirt and loose pants. katana clutched in hand as he gives you a closed-eyed smile when he catches your gaze.
“do you wanna do drills with me?” yuta is the first one to approach you, taking long strides to meet you halfway.
he stands before you, a smile plastered on his lips as he shakes the two wooden swords in his hands, hoping you’d say yes. he hovers over your figure but his eyes never look down, he bends just a tad bit so that he can speak on eye-level with you.
perhaps, that’s the part where your heart should begin racing, right?
you nod your head and he hands you the other wooden sword, a silent yet victorious huff escaping his lips.
with the sword in your hand, you two distance yourselves from the others. “go easy on me, [name].” yuta chuckles when he sees you roll your eyes at his words.
“yeah, as if i need to go easy on you.” you shake your head in disapproval, not buying his weak-guy act. “if there’s anyone who should be going easy, it should be you.”
“i won’t hurt you on purpose, you know that.”
yeah, because that means something.
it leaves his lips in the smoothest way possible and you can’t help but stagger in your movements and freeze in place for a fraction of time wondering whatever he meant by that.
your swords clash each other, bouncing off impact time to time. the echoes of the wooden weapon making contact with one another is rippling right into your ears and you can’t hear anything else in the background.
not even yuji yelling.
“[name]-senpai—! spar with me too!”
you only hear it the third time he’s yelled because yuta jerks his head to yuji’s direction. you follow the direction and see yuji beaming at you with sparkling eyes. practically begging his upperclassman to spar with him.
you look back at yuta who shrugs his shoulders in defeat. “i yield.” he raises his arms in the air and with that, yuji leaps through the air to take the wooden sword from yuta.
the air is light when yuji looks at you with innocent eyes. your lips tugging into an equally wide smile when you realize that yuji's been looking forward to this. so, as his most esteemed upperclassman, you can't really let him down.
with a leap on your dominant feet, the air shifts and the next thing you see is yuji right in front of you. the sword clashing in between you two and your strength equals each other.
"i've been meaning to ask you, senpai." yuji says as you two repositions.
yuji slices through the air when you dodge but your swords come in contact again when he blocks your next attack. your eyes staring back at him with your eyebrows furrowed this time, confused why he's got a somehow somewhat unexpected question for you.
you hum in acknowledgement and yuji's smile widens even more.
your confusion only reaches its peak when yuji suddenly takes a big breath—
"[name]-senpai, are you and okkotsu-senpai going out?"
your vision blurs because he doesn't only whisper it to you—he yelled it out. his loud volume echoing through, probably, the entirety of the campus and obviously, the whole group heard it. your arm weakens and yuji's able to push you, making you stumble behind.
but what's even worse is that, the people around don't exactly discourage yuji for yelling so loud. in fact, they join in.
"right! i've been wondering, too!" nobara grins like crazy, "they're totally dating, itadori. why are you even asking that?"
you're too shocked to even deny it as of the moment. their voices blurring into the background and you're too deep into disbelief.
megumi doesn't do a lot to scold them, instead he just watches, listens, and nods.
you regain back your sense of reality and you stood back up straight. waddling towards them with en exhausted expression, sweat dripping down your forehead.
"no way." you deadpan at them. glaring at the three first years. "he's a friend. a best friend even, maybe." desperately shaking your head to debunk whatever has been planted into their heads.
steps make their way towards you and behind you, you feel him already. your heart skips a bit, scared for whatever reaction he has.
"yeah, she's right." yuta nods his head, a pout evident in his tone. "don't go yelling stuff like that, itadori." he scolds with a grin.
maki hums from the side and she crosses her arm, "but really, you two wouldn't mind dating right?" her glasses shine as she eyes you both carefully. the three first years doing the same, anticipating your replies.
but nothing came.
a minute passes by and neither of you got to open your mouths to answer—to deny, or to say yes. just mere silence encasing the awkward situation.
but good thing, panda's there to save the day.
"yeah, totally dating."
or not.
"salmon." you sneer and glare at toge when he makes a sound. he hisses back and puts both of his arms in the air. guilty, he says.
yuta shuffles behind you and you don't have the heart to even look around and face him. because after all that, yuta still didn't answer on his own accord to save himself or you from whatever rumor is about to start.
and suddenly, you feel tension between you two. as if magnetic opposing each other, too tight to even go unnoticed. did what just happened change everything?
you bit your lips until blood seeped out faintly and you feel the metallic taste on your tongue.
you hate how it all suddenly feels heavy.
how all of the sudden, you can't even look at him the same way you did just a moment ago.
everyone resumes training like usual, but you feel tugged by something intangible. as if something is keeping you from staying in the same vicinity as yuta because of what happened.
the distance is obvious. how, you are purposely sparring with someone far away from him, or inviting someone and letting them walk the long way so that you'd be doing drills meters away from him.
yuta's focus has been disturbed. his strikes get lousier, his defense becomes destructible and his eyes are wandering.
when training finally comes to and end, the entire group collapses onto the ground. arms and legs spread out as if to make a snow angel, a sigh leaving their lips as a sign of exhaustion.
you look to your side to see yuta by the concrete stairs, head leaned back, eyes staring at the white sky. his chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath from the extensive sparring he just did with maki.
maybe you've been mistaken and that you're just looking too much into the situation.
you decide to toss away the distracting thoughts. quickly shaking your head side to side in attempt to relieve yourself of the confusing thoughts that the situation earlier brought you.
"water?"
there's a cold sensation on your cheek now, bringing you back to reality when you've been completely consumed by your thoughts again.
your hand reaches out to take it from them, casually opening it as if you haven't been offered a cold bottle of water by the same man who haunts your peace right now.
when you do take it, he takes a seat beside you. you scoot over to the side to give him some space and when the background noises blur again, leaving you alone with yuta's presence so close behind you, you feel like running away from whatever this situation is.
"thanks." you hand the bottle back to him.
yuta looks at you, "you okay? training didn't tire you out, didn't it?" he asks indifferently and it makes you think if you're the only who looks at the situation as if it's the oddest thing on the planet.
you shake your head to spare him a response, "all right."
"good."
"[name], let's go to the cafeteria." maki calls out to you, making you look up from the material you're reading. you set the book down to join the other second years.
sat by the benchers of the cafeteria waiting for panda to finish buying snacks for the group, you placed a hand against your cheek, lazily looking out to the distance. mind slowly wandering to sensitive topics such as your best friend suddenly acting as though you two have something going on. and the fact that he does it consistently doesn't help.
"earth to [name],"
maki's voice pulls you out of your dreamland again. these days, you've been staying more and more into your archive of thoughts. wandering and skimming through every question that only you and your mind have access to.
"yeah? sorry." you blink rapidly, straightening your posture as panda approaches with a bunch of snacks in his arms. your eyes sparkle when you catch a glimpse of your favorite snack—though, not exactly a snack but a rice meal.
you reached out your hands to panda and he instinctively gives you your favorite thing to eat. "wow, real thanks, panda! you know me so well." you hum in satisfaction, slowly peeling the upper cover away to reveal the delicious goodness inside.
panda huffs at this. maki sighs while watching you devour the entire meal in one go. "slow down, [name]."
her voice is muffled by the sensational flavor of the meal. the rice is cooked just right and the sweetness along with the saltiness of the food melts on your mouth. everything is just right.
however, mid-chewing, your mind asks you again.
where is yuta?
"hey," and your lips betray you by asking out loud. "have you seen yuta?" you eye the three of them and they shrug.
"probably with gojo-sensei or something." maki tosses you a tissue as you throw the empty packaging inside of a trashbin beside you. wiping your fingers against the tissue you snort, "yeah, probably."
then, silence engulfs the group.
"nothing beats lazy afternoons like this when gojo-sensei is occupied with something else that doesn't include making us train."
your body slowly leans against the bench, hands laid on your stomach as you let out a yawn. the wind blows warmly with the hot weather and now you're craving something sweet and cold.
"it's so hot..."
"salmon..."
you slowly close your eyes when you feel the heat radiating through the air, humidity making your skin sticky and your forehead sweaty. "real hot..."
"you guys are here?" yuta's voice is obvious when he calls from behind you.
maki hums first then panda who grunts, inconvenienced by the heat that's making his fur stick to one another.
you pay no mind to yuta—or, you tried to. which you fail miserably when he casually, again, takes a seat beside you on the bench. but in hopes to seem indifferent, you don't open your eyes nor make big movements to show that his unexpectedness has made your heart race just a tad bit faster.
it's hard not to be flustered when the subject of your confusion and overthinking suddenly arrives and takes a seat beaide you.
"hey,"
maybe, you were too overstimulated from the heat to even hear his voice calling out to you, or maybe you're just ignoring him on purpose. but surely, you can't ignore the way his pinky is hovering over yours in hopes yo get your attention in some way.
you purse your lips into a thin line because ignoring him would just be a waste of your time. "yeah?"
"have you eaten?" he asks out of the blue and now the questions have doubled.
you nod your head, still keeping your eyes closed. not wanting to open them and see yuta right beside you and have your cheeks blare in the color of scarlet red and have everything, including your feelings for him, out in the world.
"[name] still has space for dessert, though." now what was that for, maki?
you cursed in your head, swallowing a lump when you hear yuta chuckle. "then let's eat ice cream. it's good for the weather, too." he invites.
"you know what, i'm gonna to take a bath. i'll pass." maki is quick to reject. "i need airconditioning, yuta." and panda, too. "salmon." and of course, inumaki does too.
"come on, my treat, [name]."
having no choice but to give in, you nodded your head. slumping your body against the wooden bench and the group snickers as they scatter away to do their businesses that most certainly doesn't include buying ice cream with yuta to relieve the heat of the sunny day.
yuta is the first one to stand, stretching out his arms, letting out a groan before complaining, "it's really hot."
you hum in agreement before following behind him. the ice cream shop isn't that far away from the campus, surely it's just a five minute walk.
but a five minute walk with yuta meant agony to you.
it's basically like inviting awkwardness, silence, and combined introvertness into the already tense atmosphere.
but, with you, yuta will find whatever topic there is that will make you talk. because, simply, he likes hearing you talk.
and that, you don't know about. because yuta keeps secrets. a lot of them. big ones too. and most of them include you.
halfway to the ice cream shop, yuta asks, "you mastered your technique yet?"
it's been a while since you last spoke to each other properly. he came back from africa not too long ago and the way that he's changed a lot intimidated you; making you less confident in walking up to him and striking up a conversation.
it's strange because you used to do it without any hesitations before.
but now, it's hard to even maintain eye contact with your so-called best friend when his figure is now a lot broader than what you are used to. now that his voice is a tad bit deeper but the innocence still lingers. now that he towers of you at an obvious difference.
"i'm almost there." you reply, voice timid, unsettled with the way that you're casually conversing with the one who disrupts your sleep because you overthink every little detail of the interaction you have, and will have with him.
he nods and he sways his body to it. and when he does, he gets closer to you.
you don't know if it's intentional or it's just because of the way he's swaying. but nonetheless, you don't want to know.
“they’re really…” you trail off, hesitating before continuing. “onto this matchmaker thingy, aren’t they?”
and an awkward laugh escapes with a choked breath when you finally say it. yuta laughs alongside you, although the only difference is that he’s laughing as if he’s heard the lamest joke ever.
it’s not that hard to realize that yuta’s not laughing whole-heartedly. because when you look up to see his expression, he’s not beaming the wide smile that you’re used to.
“yeah… really into it.” there’s an emphasis on the second word that you don’t miss.
and now, you wonder why he’s so awkward with it.
the walk was agonizing to you. and when you finally reach the ice cream shop, you feel the lump in your throat undoing in relief.
he enters the shop and looks over the array of displayed flavors. he points to one flavor specifically, “you should get this one. it’s really good.” he recommends.
your eyes follow where his finger is pointing, nodding when you find the name and appearance satisfactory. “i’ll get that, thank you.”
yuta’s lips tug upwards into a smile at this, opening the freezer to take two—one for you and for him.
but when you see how he’s about to take two of the same flavor you stop him. “get this one,” your hand clasps around a different flavored ice cream. “totally recommend this. balanced stuff, right here.”
yuta raises his eyebrows and looks the product in your hand when you raise it up to show him. it doesn’t take long before he’s chuckling, “alright.” he says in between laughter.
you two ended up eating ice cream of the flavors that you recommended to each other. perched on the bench outside, you both nod enthusiastically, letting the foreign flavor melt on your tongue like gold.
satisfaction builds up when the heat is finally replaced with the cold goodness of the ice cream that tastes a bit better because you’re having it with yuta. not to mention, he paid for it. and, it’s apparently his favorite flavor.
“let’s go back?” he asks you, tossing out the trash for the both of you.
you raise a hand, “wait for a minute, i want to buy them something too.”
it’s not always your day off from jujutsu-related things so when you do have them, you want to spend it in the best way possible—and that being cleaning your room.
what started off a mere teasing and you didn’t to think much of, became somewhat somehow a routine.
spotting yuta by the end of the hallway as you’re on your way back to your dorm room after tossing out your trash, you wave a hello.
“[name],” he smiles, waving an equally enthusiastic hello back. “have you eaten?”
there it is again. smooth and casual. yuta asking you if you’ve eaten for the day.
you’ve grown used to it—yuta asking you if you’ve had your share of the day’s meal. but you can never understand why he does it. consistently, too. he never misses a day, never goes by without asking you. whether it’d be in personal, or on your social media connected accounts.
you shake your head, dusting off dirt from your hands. “i’ve been cleaning since i woke up so… yeah, nope.”
and as much as you wanted to clean up some more, yuta’s makes that so hard to do.
“let’s go out? my treat.” because he will always, always, ask you out to eat when he receives a no answer from you to his practiced question. “i know a restaurant that just opened by the block.”
you look around for a second, wondering if you’ll give in or just stay cooped up in your room the whole day cleaning up things that will never seem clean to you.
sighing, you decide to go for the former. you nod your head, “give me time to get ready, please.”
yuta smiles at this, “see you by the gate in 20.”
you enter back into your dorm room and you’re met with neatness. sighing and slumping yourself onto the sheets of your mattress before realizing an incredible dilemma.
clothes.
you immediately shoot up from your bed and run to your closet, quickly rummaging through folded and hanged clothes. but to no avail, you slump yourself onto the floor and against the side of your bed.
maybe this isn’t a big deal at all. maybe your usual clothes that you wear whenever you’re with friends will do. because, in hindsight, yuta is your best friend.
but your mind can’t decide. all of the sudden, everything looks so out of place. one set of clothes feel too home-y and the next feels too over the top.
everything feels so wrong now that you have this small feeling inside of you that feels the need to impress yuta in your own way.
not that you’ll ever admit that.
20 minutes and now you find yourself face to face with yuta by the gates of the campus. he wore nothing too flashy, just casual and just right for this experience one may call a date.
and you on the other hand—
“nice outfit. you look really pretty.”
and the compliment just slides out of his lips like it’s nothing. as if he’d just thrown your dilemma right under the bus because it felt so easy, too easy, to compliment you that it felt like you didn’t need to go through all that trouble to coax that one statement from him.
your cheeks betray you. they grow red and you can feel blood rushing up to your cheeks and ears.
you hide behind a handkerchief in the guise of a cough. looking away before replying with a timid and shy, “you don’t look bad yourself too.”
you two began walking to where the restaurant was located right down the block. the walk was silent, he did throw some random facts here and there to not make it obviously awkward and you appreciate his efforts.
finally sat onto the soft velvet cushions of the restaurant and opposite to each other, quite literally facing each other as if on a date.
he hands you the other menu while he skims his own.
“which one you want?”
now this is where your indecisiveness comes to ruin the day. your lips agape, hesitating whether to speak words that you will probably regret because everything seems so good right now.
yuta notices the reluctance in your shoulders and he lets out a low chuckle, “get this one.” he recommends something and you let out a sigh of relief. nodding your head and going with whatever he just recommended.
menus are taken back when your order has been placed so now it’s just you, unoccupied, and a seemingly enthusiastic yuta in front of you.
you thought of what to say for a short time before remembering a certain encounter.
“hey,” you called out to him and he hums. “you know, last time someone came up to me.” you continued, tone slowly becoming less and less awkward and now leaning more into comfort.
yuta nods his head in anticipation, “yeah?”
“they asked me who i was with, then i said your name because you, yeah, we were together at that time.” you shrugged, “they asked me for your socials—i think they’ve taken a liking to you.”
he laughs at your final statement. a whole-hearted at that one, as if he found yours words the most hilarious thing on the planet.
“so that’s why i had one friend request the other day.”
you nod your head, trailing off a long “yeah…” before apologizing, “sorry i gave them your socials without asking.”
he shakes it off saying it’s not big deal.
“but really, yuta,” hearing his name has caught his attention and he’s now back to intently listening to you. “what’s your type? like relationship-wise. because that girl… seemed to be really into you.”
yuta thinks for a while. and you feel quite relieved that he doesn’t find the question weird at all.
as if a bulb lit up on his head when he perks up the moment he’s done thinking. “i really like it when people go along with my plans—even the most spontaneous of them.” he looks at you, deeply at that.
and for a second, you feel like drowning into his stare. it’s intense, as if he’s begging that you get the message.
but you don’t because you’re too hard on yourself to even believe in that sort of thing. to assume.
you nod your head in strong agreement. “yeah, well, that sure is a must…”
but there’s a lingering thought in you that you refuse to acknowledge. it gets the same treatment as you give to your own feelings—denial.
you thank the restaurant when the food arrives just in time before you drown even further into your thoughts as they come unsolicited together with yuta’s intense stare.
you thank the waiter that delivered your food and you accept the utensils that yuta hands you.
a few bites into the meal, he gets this one question in his head that he so wanted you to answer.
“just a quick question—” he says mid-chewing, swallowing it before speaking again, “be honest, what was your first impression of me?” your utensils freeze in place when he asks that but before he could catch you in another staring contest again, you dig into your meal.
the question is unexpected to you but you think anyway.
but vulnerability creeps in, hesitating whether you let him in one of your most treasured secrets. you look up at him and he’s anticipating your answer, eyes staring back, hoping he’ll get some serious answer to quench his curiosity.
“i wanted to get close to you when we first met.” you reveal, “you were like this cowardly boy who doesn’t have any clue about the world i grew up in and i because of that… i kind of wanted to protect you.”
the warmth is evident with the way that yuta’s eyes widen ever so subtly. expression reflecting the surprise he’s feeling within. it’s all mixed up—fuzziness, fluster, and joy. all of his feelings are jumbled into one big ball and he’s unsure if he can take it still.
you continue, deciding to just tell him, “but ever since you came back from africa…” you hesitate again, “you changed a lot and i don’t think you need my protection anymore.” swiftly redirecting the mood with a laugh and humorous words.
yuta laughs along, his chest vibrating with every meaningful laughter that exits his lips. “then, i should be the one protecting you now, yeah?”
but you don’t say anything. you just roll your eyes, shrugging it off and treating it like one of his jokes. but a part of you whispers desires that you want him to mean it.
the next day is an equally laid-back day. having been finished with your lessons and training earlier than usual, the entire group decides that it’s the best time to watch a show at yuji’s small dorm room.
it started with nobara crashing yuji’s room, with fushiguro hanging on by a thread with nobara’s tight grip on him as she drags him along to her shenanigans. then it’s followed by panda and toge who just, on accident, walks by yuji’s room and sees the television turned on with a movie running its intro.
maki doesn’t follow much later, she ends up inside the oddly crowded room of yuji after looking for panda with you and yuta following behind her.
and that’s how it ended up being a get together inside of yuji’s cramped room.
you sit beside yuta as always—it’s not even intentional, it’s instinct at this point. perhaps, yuta has wired the routine into you.
he’s a bit too close to you. both of you sat behind everyone else, and while their occupied with the movie, you are too busy becoming one with your thoughts.
but the usually organized array of thoughts that you have are now scrambled into pieces when it’s disturbed by yuta placing his head on your shoulder. you let him do so, finding the act normal as he usually does it on a daily basis whenever he can.
and you just never really called him out for it. justifying it inside your head as some sort of best friendly act.
you don’t know when it started though. the fact that you started seeing him as someone who wouldn’t do this with the intention of being your best friend. you don’t recall having an exact date when you began wanting for more.
but you’ve confirmed it all during that one date. when his words alone have smashed through the boundary between your feelings and reality.
you realized that you may have been dragging it for too long now that if you do it for longer, you’ll end up being more confused.
because, what is there to be confused about? when yuta’s actions and words say everything.
they have always done so. you just never had the heart to acknowledge them in fear of losing whatever best friend shit you have going on with him.
but you want him more than you want your peace of mind. because there’s this lit up hope in you telling that he’s going to bring nothing but clarity to you.
when everyone else was too indulged in the movie, you whispered to him in a way that only you two will be able to hear.
“when did you start seeing me as more than a friend, yuta?”
he doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t make any movements to startle the calmness in this. instead, he replies with certainty. “from the very moment you first spoke to me.”
silence ensues in between you two and you lay your head on top of his. letting it all sink in.
but something is missing. you’d hate to disrupt the sweet ambiance of your small moment but you have this strange attachment with your belonging. “i think i left my phone in my room, i’ll get it real quick.” you shoot him an apology before excusing yourself.
when the door closes, yuta feels something cold make contact with his hand and when he looks down, he finds your phone there. settled behind to where you were sitting.
he sighs before excusing himself too to catch up and give it to you.
he knocks on your door and you let him in. “it was just behind you.” he hands you the phone and you sigh in relief, “thank goodness. i couldn’t find it anywhere here so i got nervous for a sec.”
he chuckles. but that’s all because it doesn’t take long before awkwardness wraps around you two again. standing in the middle of your room, face to face with each other and no word is spoken.
“look, i need to tell you—”
your words are cut off before you can even finish when he leans in suddenly. he’s sure, and the way that he kisses you so softly is evidence of that certainty. you don’t do anything to tell him to get off, you don’t effort much to go against the kiss.
instead, you mould your lips with him as well. your hands wrapping themselves around his bicep as his hand finds settlement in your waist.
he leans back an inch away before locking lips with you again. your hands gripping tightly as you try to keep up with the desperation that you feel when he’s hungrily chasing after you.
you feel yourself slowly being backed up against the edge of your bed. his hold against your waist is secure so when you fall flat onto your mattress, it doesn’t hurt. your hands move to clutch and card through his hair, lips never leaving one another.
his thumb draw circles on your waist and you feel like going crazy. you let your hands fall onto his shoulders, pulling him closer as his tongue finds entrance into your mouth. swirling against one another, saliva mixing as you reach peak intimacy with just a kiss.
you both finally let go of each other when air becomes a need. you stare at each other for a few moments before yuta decides to speak first.
“let’s go out.”
is the first thing he says and you can’t find an ounce of sanity in you to handle that kind of directness. your mind is in a haze but there’s sureness when you nod your head.
“i like you. yeah.”
with your swollen lips beaming brightly, proud that you’ve finally let your feelings out after denying them to yourself for a year.
he catches your lips again for yet another makeout session. but when he feels your hands tugging against his shirt, as if asking him to take them off, he stops.
he leans back and stares at you with hesitant eyes. you tilt your head to the side, wondering if you’ve done something wrong. “why? it’s all right.” you give assurance but yuta doesn’t give in.
“i’ll take a rain check for now, [name]. i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.”
thats a wrap, the idea was kind of repetitive lol i tried
synopsis : demanding that the fire lord marries, fire lord zuko finds himself in front of an officiant with a rather daring lady beside him and with a marriage to consummate
content: 18+, smut, fluff, body image, a lot of plot
word count: 8.1k
note: not proof read just self indulgently written in the crack of dawn
the wind is cold tonight.
the way it tickled your exposed arm while you stand by the railing of the ship felt as though needles were piercing right through your flesh.
you stared in the near distance, where the palace stood tall and the flag waving with the wind's current. truly, it was a prideful sight. pride. the feeling that you should be feeling right now. but no, having been told that you've been chosen to marry the well-off lord of the fire nation makes pride a tad bit difficult to feel.
the wind carries its speed and you clutch onto your shawl to keep yourself from freezing.
"come inside," a voice says from behind you and need not to turn to check who it was. "you'll freeze out here, [name]." she called out and you finally pivot on your heel to face her.
her eyes widen in shock. your eyes held tears in them. and she can't quite point out why. is it happy tears? sad? what are you feeling?
"[name], why are you crying?" she immediately rushes to your side and you shake your head when she gets close enough to touch your arm. she backs away when you do so.
"ling." you call out her name and she hums in response. her tone higher than usual, laced with worry. "thank you."
it was selfish. you were selfish to ask her of something this great.
the day you got the letter that you've been asked to marry the lord of the fire nation, you've felt as though your world broke into million little pieces of nothing but conflict. every single shard a fragment of what could be the outcome of your decision from there on.
conflict had this little voice that went into your head a little to easily sometime. you wonder what would be best to do.
to go and be tethered to a stranger or stay where you feel restricted and taken for granted?
but the message felt as though it was opportunity when time went by. because even though the devil slipped right into your head easily, hope still fought its way back.
can this be a chance for freedom?
but you can't do it by yourself. at first, you rejected it. you can't live somewhere unfamiliar, nor leave everything you've built behind. because even though the place where you worked at was dysfunctional, you've got this one friend.
ling. the one who taught you the true ways to become a great courtesan. years you've spent together you've formed a bond. an unbreakable one at that.
because just one day, few weeks after receiving the letter. you were writing back to them. you've asked for a favor. to have ling as your appointed lady-in-waiting if the marriage happens and you're tied to royal customs that require ladies of rulers to have a loyal assistant by their side.
"why are you saying thank you?" ling catches you out of your trance. her dainty arms coming around to embrace your figure from the front. now, she's got all tightly wrapped around her, nuzzled in her softness and gentleness.
"if not thank you," you start, "then i need to say sorry... for dragging you into whatever mess is about to happen. but i need you, ling."
not once did ling ever see you as selfish for making that kind of decision. not once even after also receiving a letter that she's been asked to become a staff at the royal palace of the fire nation as the lady-in-waiting of the fire lord's wife.
"don't apologize."
and the ship comes to a halt. both of you startled by the crash it caused when the bottom hits the shore. and in an even nearer distance, stands proud the palace.
your new home.
"it is an honor to welcome you firsthand to the fire nation, my lady."
my lady, he calls. and the title is unfamiliar to you and you wouldn't even realize that he's pertaining to you until ling nudged you from behind.
he reaches an arm out and you get down from the ship with both his help and ling's. you bit your lip when you feel the concrete of the dock beneath your heels. you tilt your head in a bow, "thank you."
you stand up straight, fixing your clothes before you look up to observe the man in front of you. he wore clothes in the hue of red and orange, a fire nation statement. not only that, beneath his robes are even more layers, an indicative of high status.
and now, when you catch a glimpse of his face and his eyes that was subtly looking down on you, you felt small. awfully small. and all of the sudden, you feel so out of place in this unfamiliar land.
you look around, hoping to get one clue on his this man is. "i'm sorry but i need to ask, you are...?" you shake your head while asking, biting back your shame when you do.
"the grand chamberlain, my lady. i oversee logistics, staff, and resources of the fire lord's palace. of course, i work directly under him." he introduces himself and as expected, he is a man of high-status, the imperial steward. "i am the person you speak with the letters as well, my lady." he smiles at you before peeking behind you where ling stood.
oh, so he's the man who approved of ling's employment.
"now, we shouldn't be wasting time, my lady. you need to get ready."
ah right. the day you land on the fire nation's territory is the day you become the fire lord's wife. ergo, it's the day of your wedding.
you three enter the palanquin that waited by the side of the road. sat beside ling and in front of the grand chamberlain inside of a rather fancy vehicle, you felt as though anytime you can jump out into the road to escape.
the ride to the palace was long and tedious. the door of the palanquin opened and you're met with such a sight. the palace of the fire lord was architected with explicit perfection. because even a child can recognize such an articulate work.
"this way, my lady." the grand chamberlain leads you both to your private chambers.
when you reach the door, you're met yet again with picturesque composition. the interior was aesthetically pleasing to the eyes. every color, every hue and every furniture matched each and everything like a puzzle piece.
when you reach your own private room, it was spacious. and to think that you'll be calling something like this as your own felt wrong.
"the fire lord is currently occupied with his own preparation. and fire nation customs tell us that the bride and groom musn't see each other until the hour of their wedding, so i apologize if the fire lord cannot greet you until then." it feels unfamiliar. and wrong. but somehow, you feel thrill. and chasing it would be just right.
a thrill that tells you that the fire lord may be worth the long wait and the impulsive decisions.
"your wedding preparations are set on the bed, my lady. your lady-in-waiting shall assist you. if there should be any questions, i will be nearby tending to staff." the grand chamberlain bows before leaving you and ling to tend to your wedding preparations.
the door shuts close and you can finally breathe out what you've been holding in since from the dock.
"ling!" you yell out with widened eyes and she looks over at you. "this is crazy!" behind closed doors, in the careful solitude where you are alone with the person you trusted the most, you are an entirely different person.
"i'm about to marry a fire lord and inside this big room that is a lot bigger than the courtesan's lobby back at home and... and..."
and it has hit you. the harsh slap that you're actually nowhere near you home. instead, you're inside of a palace. as if just yesterday you weren't laughing with your fellow courtesans over a customer's drunken confession to one of them.
"enough crying over spilled milk, my lady. we'll get used to this." an attempt to console you, "it won't be easy... but we'll make it happen." ling shoots a smile at you.
"now, now... shall we get you ready for your big moment, my lady?" you roll your eyes at her. "my lady? all set to the role, yeah?" you tease. she nudges you and you both laugh, sound resonating across the room but never leaving the privacy of the chamber.
on the edge of the bed rested the ensemble of layers that you are to wear for the ceremonious event they call a wedding. a silk mantle draped below a few other layers that glowed the same hues of cinnabar, scarlet, and vermillion. the outer robe had the insignia of the nation embroidered. and gazing at the archicture of the entire wardrobe collection just made you think if you were worthy of beholding yourself in such imperial and sophisticated image.
ling wastes no time in veiling with the seemingly endless layers of wedding apparel. her fingers expertly tying and cinching everything that needs to be closed.
and when done with it, everything feels... heavy.
you look to the full body mirror beside you and you don't see yourself at all.
ling notices the obvious dismay in your expression. "it takes a while, [name]." she reminds and you can only nod your head.
"should we get your hair ready too?" ling beckons you to come closer to the vanity table where a few other accessories settled as well.
gold jewelries all lined up ready to make contact with your skin, and you hope they don't sting with the feeling of unfamiliarity because they are all so beautiful and you'd hate to feel sick in such things.
you sat on the stood and your reflection in the mirror stares back at you. your hair now carefully encased in a beautiful hairdo. ling slips a golden hairpin in and your lips quivers.
should the person in front of you look like the fire lady you are about to become? because she sure doesn't look like one at all.
with a few more embellishments here and there, you are finally done.
and in the blink of an eye—
across the hall stares back at you a tall figure of a man. a leader. authority spurs out of him like it's the most natural thing. it's intimidating. more so because it's the man you are about to marry.
your heels clank within the silence of the tall pillars that hold the weight of the spacious hall. on the other end of the aisle is him. adorned in his wedding attire and a crown resting on his head. he's rather ravishing.
he stares back at you. assessing your everything as you do the same. doing what is natural when you've just met your betrothed on your wedding day.
first meeting and you're already going to be tethered to him like the wife that you will become.
you stood tall beside him. a bouquet of roses held in your hand as the officiant clears his throat. it's bad because when he does, you feel like running away.
the man beside you is warm. albeit the cold demeanor he puts up, he's warm in proximity and in eye-contact. you notice his scar and you wonder how he's got it. nonetheless, he's the most beautiful man you've seen.
perhaps, it's because you don't see neat-looking man like him back at home often. or, he's just that beautiful.
truly it was as if in the blink of an eye.
"do you, fire lord zuko, take this woman to be your wedded wife, to be your equal, to kindle a shared fire that shall serve as a beacon to this nation, and to navigate trials side by side?"
you swallow a lump.
"yes, i do."
and when he answers you finally get a piece of how he sounds like. and in contrary to his authoritative position, fire lord zuko actually sounds soft and unguarded.
the officiant nods his head and turns to you.
you feel your throat close in.
"do you, lady [name], take this man to be your wedded husband, to be your equal, to kindle a shared fire that shall serve as a beacon to this nation, and to navigate trials side by side?"
the hall quiets down and you don't find your words anywhere. is this all too sudden? should you have not accepted it after all? who is this man beside you? you look around and you see nothing but intricate designs for the ceremony.
and alas, you're caught up.
but you fall out of your trance when a comforting warmth makes its way to your fingertips. it's subtle but it's there.
"i.. do."
it sounds hesitant but you finally got the courage to answer.
you try to take a peek beside you. to the man who just lit a fire in you. to the man you subtly touched your hands to catch you back to reality. to the reality where you two are—
"then i shall pronounce you as husband and wife."
your eyes catch his for a second before everything goes loud. the crowd is cheering. the fire lord of the fire nation has finally found an equal. one to make his cold days a little warmer.
"you may now kiss the bride, my lord."
and it gets even louder when zuko finally turns his body to face you and you do the same.
and you don't know what to expect. should you really kiss? for this façade of a marriage?
but zuko's eyes are asking for permission. those amber eyes that you've been staring into ever since you set foot into his spacious hall for ceremonies is now requesting that you share a kiss with him.
you leaned in. an indirect answer to his plea. and he does too.
when his lips finally land on his, it's softly warm. the first lips to touch yours are his, and you're somehow somewhat glad that he's your husband. first hands to touch your fingertips with such intentions. first eyes to stare at you with that kind of heat.
and you wonder, why? why does it feel so easy when it comes to him?
why does he make it so easy for you?
when the ceremony meets its end, you are left with zuko to roam the hallway leading to your shared room.
the walk there is quiet. as if there's a gap between you two that you yet to bridge connected. he stops at the room farthest from the wandering eyes of open halls. he opens the door for you and inside was an even more extraordinary view.
the room was clad in all sorts of decoration. furniture all across corners of this spacious area. you swallow a nervous lamp. can you really be comfortable in such seemingly limitless room? alongside a rather enticing fire lord you call your husband whom you just shared your first kiss with?
on the clothes rack near the window hang comfortable clothes. still in the statement color of red and oranges.
you hear a clank behind you and when you turn around you see zuko ridding himself of the suffocating accessories. he notices you staring and shoots back a stare. he takes in your appearance before sighing.
"you can change here. i'll call for your lady-in-waiting to help you." he clutches a set of clothes in his hands for himself before he turns around to leave the room.
he spares you those words before finally retiring husband routines for his fire lord duties.
when you're free from the tightness of the stifling ceremony apparel, you feel the wind tickle your skin against your thin night gown. the room is kind of cold with the absence of your new husband who emits warmth like it's natural to him.
you set yourself onto the mattress, bouncing on it to test the comfort it can bring you and to your surprise, it's fluffier than the one you rested on back at home. well, that is to be expected, this is the fire nation's palace after all.
the responsibility you hold is high and it feels heavy. and so with a heavy heart, you lie on your side of bed. turning to sleep on your side, facing away from the door, hoping that sleep will ease the worry that you feel.
the morning came and when you sit up your bed is cold. as if the fire lord never came by to rest. but judging by the loose silk on the other side of the bed, your husband did sleep beside you after all while you were deep into your slumber.
but he's left early in the morning to tend to his duties once again.
but that's where you've cut it short because you have duties as well. you ask for the grand chamberlain's instructions and you do them with precision, a habit you obtained while working as a courtesan.
but this went on for days. it felt like a tragedy. you and your new husband hasn't spoken in a real conversation yet and it feels unbearable. to think that this is how your married life is supposed to go.
but to zuko, you were quiet. he feels intimidated by you. a fraction of him feels rather shy. you're beautiful in his eyes, that he won't deny. even more beautiful than the day he married you. clad in your fire lady attire, he would steal glances but never acts upon it.
but despite the quiet image you portray in front of him, the man is determined to know more about his dearest wife.
"would you like to have tea with me?" he asks in a dim hallway, a few guards stationed at the end but too far away to even hear.
your breath hitches when he asks. so unexpectedly, he comes up to you and invites you to a tea session.
you look around for a second, the scarlet walls caving in before finally releasing the breath you were holding. “i don’t see why not, my lord.”
you two settled for the balcony you had in your shared chamber. after having a servant deliver you a specially brewed tea, you were now alone in the quietness of the palace with the whole fire nation as your view.
you had your legs crossed, leaning in to link your hand around the cup and take a sip of it.
“your tea here, my lord, is delicious.” your lips smack with the sweetness and bitterness combining, eyes squinting when the unfamiliar taste hits your throat and taste buds.
zuko nods his head, “it’s fire nation specialty. i’m glad you like it.” and you never really noticed it until now, but you really like how zuko speaks. his tone is confident yet it hides softness beneath it, as if he’s scared of vulnerability but he has so much of it that it seeps out.
“i’ve heard from chamberlain how competent you are in your duties. considering you are new to this line of work, i must say that you never fail to impress me.” the compliment leaves his tongue carelessly and you freeze in your spot. but a smile makes its way to your lips.
your work has been acknowledged. “thank you, my lord. it’s mere professionalism, i’ve learned it the hard way back in my home.” you nod your head. zuko hums at this before he takes a sip of his tea.
“you… worked as a courtesan, am i right? how was that like?” an attempt to get closer to your circle. to your world. he asks the question and the intention of wanting to get to know you more is evident but you don’t see through it.
you think for a bit, how to say it without intimidating him. “it was… careful. much like this work. well, not exactly much but it was still work. i met a lot of good people because of it and i guess… that’s the part i’m most grateful about.” you bute your tongue back when you realize you may have been speaking too carelessly that your talkative side is showing.
zuko pays mo mind to it, in fact he listens. “and one of them is your lady-in-waiting? ling… was it? i’ve heard from chamberlain, i had him approve your request.” your eyes widen.
so it was him after all that approved of your request. and not the chamberlain.
you tilt your head back straight, “well, i’ve got to thank you, my lord. for approving my… rather selfish favor.” zuko shakes his head and a low chuckle leaves his mouth as he leans back on his chair lazily.
“it’s just right. if anyone is selfish it should be me, right?”
whatever that means, my lord?
the word never leaves your mouth because he is yet again being called for duty. “i need to attend a meeting. i apologize if i have to leave you alone so soon again. i’ll call for the maid to clean this up.”
you shake your head reaching out to hold his arm out of habit. you retract it once you realize. “no need, my lord. i’ll finish my tea while watching the sunset. then i’ll ask them to clean up. thank you.”
zuko stares at you for a second and nods his head. “i’ll leave you to it. i’ll see you later.”
zuko leaves you all by yourself and the door clicks close. the sunset in front of you is beautiful. the wind is warm and the ambiance is just right. the whole scenery washing your thoughts away and you feel as though everything is falling into place.
night falls and you’re still alone. the room awfully big without the presence of your husband but it’s a good thing that you’ve grown used to the feeling.
you were hoping to sleep early as to compensate for your overtime duties last night. so when ling enters and invites you for a bath you do so right away.
you slipped into the bath tub. it’s hot and it makes your insides tingle. it’s just what you needed. your muscles loosening and your mind is becoming lighter. the water sways you left and right as you lean against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and unguarded.
your bath didn’t run long because the water’s temperatures gradually dropped as time went by. the cold water was painful to the touch and you didn’t like how it made your skin tighter. you exited the tub and you see ling by the door way waiting for you with a towel in her hands.
“my lady.” she bows and you don’t feel like acting the fire lady role in front of her at all. “don’t do that ling, i don’t like it.” you frowned and she smiles. “you need to get used to it, [name].” she drops the formalities and your lips tug upwards.
she patted the towel up and down your body until you’re dry. she tells you to open your arms out so she can drape you into your night gown and you do as you’re told. one thing you’re good at; a habit from when you were a courtesan.
“as usual,” ling starts, “your skin is flawless.” she compliments and you can’t count how many times you’ve heard those words.
from women and men alike. they all say the same when they get to touch your skin. customers or courtesans alike.
you smile when ling’s finished tending to you. “you can retire for the evening, ling. i’m sure you’re tired.” you usher her to leave and rest and after a few more convincing, she finally does.
now you’re left alone again. the clock on the wall is now so loud when silence engulfs you.
you sit on the stool in front of the vanity table before opening the drawer. inside rested a few of your skin care regimen. a skin this flawless is ought to be maintained. especially when it’s one asset that got you through your courtesan job.
you take each one out and began tending to your skin. the products are soft to the touch and cold but you’ve grown used to this tedious routine that it’s your definition of normal now.
but your peaceful routine is cut short when a knock is heard from your door.
you freeze in your spot as you call out, “who is it?” loudly enough for them to hear.
“it’s me.”
his voice resonates again the door and the familiarity of it brings your heart to a race. “come on in, my lord.” you reply, hoping to resume your routine when he’s back inside but you don’t.
he looks exhausted. tired of his never ending duties as this nation’s leader. he enters and his eyes search for you immediately and when he catches your eyes he dare not break it.
he sees you seated on the vanity, wearing a thin night gown of the same material you always wore during the night. it’s open right down your neck and your clavicles are exposed. he notices how your skin glows with the firelamp by your vanity and realizes that it must be the product you’re holding right now.
his lips are agape before moving forward, approaching you with careful steps.
“excuse me, my lord. i’ve occupied your vanity for my routines. i will be done in a minute.” when the contact becomes unbearable, you switch to stare back at your reflection and continue your skin care routine.
“no need to hurry up, take your time.” a sigh leaves his lips as he undoes his hair. the accessory on his hair leaving making his hair fall without restriction. he places the accessory on the vanity and he approaches the bed to sit on the edge.
he removes his outer robe and places it carefully onto the bed beside him. and through the vanity’s mirror, you are all too conscious of how he’s tending to himself as if he’s about to rest.
you cleared your throat, “are you perhaps… done for the evening, my lord?” you ask, looking at him through the mirror and when he hears your voice, he catches your gaze in the mirror as well.
“yes.”
you nod your head before continuing back to finish up your skin care. but zuko’s gaze doesn’t leave you. he watches carefully through the mirror and takes notice on how your fingertips are lightly touching your skin with expert precision. the particularity is obvious with the way your hands are delicate against your cheek.
zuko’s amber eyes makes its way down to your neck, glossy with the product, as well as your neck that is pink with whatever you’re putting on your skin. nonetheless, you are pretty under the firelamp’s light.
“is there a reason…” he stands up, “on why you are so meticulous with this routine?” you don’t even notice the proximity until your hair is wrapped around his finger.
you swallow yet another lump.
“when you’re already so beautiful?” his words leave his lips carelessly and you question why such words even leave to voice out his thoughts. the hand that travels across your strands leaves to caress the skin on your neck.
he feels the substance stick to his fingertips. his index finger running through your clavicle and across until it reaches your throat. his fingers wrap around it and you feel heat rushing, and suddenly you’re shy.
“there is a reason,” you pause when you look up to see zuko staring at you through the mirror. amber eyes lidded with evident intention. “my lord.”
zuko leans down until his chin touches your shoulder. one last look at you through the mirror before he turns his head to face you. your cheeks, blocked by strands of hair, is warm when his breath fans over. and it doesn’t help when his lips brush faintly.
“would you like to tell me?” he hums out before looking back at you through the mirror with pleading eyes as if desperate that he knows about it. “i would…” his arms come to wrap themselves around your torso, “love to know more about you, my dearest wife.”
and the view in front of you is a reflection of zuko embracing you from behind.
his eyes once again subtly ask for permission. “there’s not much to know about me, my lord.” your hands come up to hesitantly hold his hands that rested on your stomach, as if testing the water, with trembling hands they land on his rather big hands.
“but if you insist.” and that’s the confirmation that zuko has been waiting for.
zuko lips makes its way to your cheek. his lips are soft and scarred, as if he’s been biting through them for the countless of hours he spends stressed and bent against his desk.
you watch him through the mirror and the hand that you’ve been holding leaves yours for a second as he roams your body. his big and calloused hands make their way to caress the skin on your forearm and finally to your waist and hips. he runs them up and down until you squirm with the repetitive action.
he laughs at this softly. “your routine is paying off. you have very soft skin.” he comments and you tilt your head to the side when his lips come in contact with your neck.
“i really hope they do. these products… they cost a fortune.” you comment and the man huffs, you wince when one hand makes its way a tad bit closer to your breast. you are bare beneath the night gown and you feel his fingertips very closely.
“then more reason why you should tell me why you do this routine.” he hums, the thrill finally coming to and end when one hand finally cups your breast in a gentle hold. “tell me.”
your cheeks are flushed and you can’t seem to organize your thoughts properly.
this is the first time.
first time that you’ve been touched in this kind of way with this kind of intentions.
his hand gropes you in a gentle kind of way and when he’s unsatisfied with the fabric between you two, he tugs his hand away.
“would you rather tell me in bed?” zuko asks, a faint and shy question on your end but he asks it with confidence. he looks at you through the mirror, eyes asking once more if you’d like to continue.
you lean your head against his and your hand falls back to hold his hand. “you’re quite clingy, aren’t you, my lord?” zuko merely shoots you smile before sliding his arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your back to carry you bridal style to the bed where he tosses you with care.
you scoot over to the middle before zuko hovers above you. with his hands on either side of your head you stare back at him, a wave of confidence rushes over you and you wrap your hands around his neck pulling him down closer to you.
“mind dimming the lights, my lord? my figure is rather unsightly.” the firelord backs away to your words.
he looks as though he is in disbelief with what you had just said. “don’t say that.” his voice drops an octave lower and you chuckle with the sudden vulnerability he’s showing.
a hand runs up and down your waist and hips until it cups your breast once again. you whimper when his fingers pinch your aroused nipples. “this body i’m touching is unsightly, you say?” he leans down, eyes lidded when his lips trail down your silk covered chest area.
“i would tear down nations just to touch this soft skin, my love. and you dare call it unsightly?”
the room dims because he gives into your request. the gentleman he is, he keeps one firelamp open. “but i would love to see your face. you are beautiful.” a hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it.
it doesn’t take you long before you’re frowning again. zuko’s fingers expertly going below to take your long night gown off. you let him, you’ve given him permission after all.
but you’re frowning.
with nothing underneath, zuko frees you from the comfort of the silk night gown. and thanks to the dimmed lights, he doesn’t make out the shape of your actual figure. one lacking curves, one that doesn’t compare to the body of an actual courtesan.
but it doesn’t take long before your husband notices you frowning beneath him. a hand stops roaming, stops memorizing your body because his dear wife is unhappy.
“why are you frowning, my love?” he asks and the endearment feels natural. feels right.
and that’s why it’s confusing.
you swallow a lump. “why are we doing this, my lord?” but you don’t return the endearment and you settle with calling him by his title. the one that everyone calls him.
zuko stops entirely and he leans away. taking a good look at you from a distance but still hovering over you. “because,” he starts, “we have a marriage to consummate, or do we not?”
he’s got a point. but why? is he in love with you? is that why he’s doing this?
the hands that wrap around his neck abruptly pulls him down gentle and you got him at an even closer distance.
“kiss me.”
ever since the wedding. you’ve got this little voice telling you, “zuko’s a great kisser, i bet.” and it’s evil. because it had you craving for another kiss for days.
zuko obliges immediately. he parts his lips before sinking down to connect both of your lips. his lips are soft against yours and you can only think about how easy it is to become addicted to this kind of intimacy. he continues to mould your lips together until finally seeking entrance to your own mouth. unfamiliar with the practice, you don’t know what to do when his tongue intrudes.
your eyes shoot open at the weird feeling of his tongue intertwining with your own. you almost choke you think. but after a while, it becomes satisfying. the way he keeps chasing after you whenever you try to retract. he becomes unwilling to let go. and the lack of air is the only reason he does.
he pulls away and when he stares at your swollen lips he goes crazy. he doesn’t know what to do anymore because his mind goes blank. in the lens of his eyes, you are so utterly beautiful that he can’t help but rest his head against the crevice of your neck.
“i have a question.” your fingers run through his hair. “why me when you’ve been given the choice to pick your own bride?” zuko doesn’t move his upper body, instead, he moves his hand.
he pulls himself up and runs his body across your waist and hips. he doesn’t answer just yet. he just slowly sinks back into you but this time lower. the firelamp’s light no longer reaching him. without a warning, his lips come in contact with the flesh underneath your breast.
your eyes widen and your breath hitches, a small wince exiting your lips along with a choked breath.
“i’ve been watching you.” his lips latches onto your nipple this time. tongue swirling across the boundary of your perked up buds. he lifts his eyelids up to peek at your expression and he sees you holding back, lips pursed into a thin line and eyebrows creased in pleasure.
he realizes that you might have not heard him.
“i’ve been watching you.” he repeats and this time you catch his words.
“huh?”
it came out choked, mixed with a whimper when zuko detaches from your sensitive breast. he turns to the side to give the other one some love while his hand gropes your other, firmly wrapping the flesh in his hand.
“ever since i visited your homeland as an envoy of the fire nation.” he confesses out of the blue. your mind is trapped in a hazy trance when zuko continues to lap across your nipples, seemingly addicted to the way your body vibrates whenever he does this one thing with his tongue. as if you’ve only been touched for the first time.
you hear his words but you never register them. mind too focused on the sensation of his tongue expertly licking and lapping across your skin until you’re lathered in his saliva.
zuko notices your absent-mindedness and clicks you back to reality with an innocent kiss on your chin. “listen for a while, my love. i’m pouring my heart out here.” zuko chuckles when you finally meet his eyes that are equally half-lidded with lust.
you clear your throat before squirming to usher yourself back against the head rest of the bed using your elbows. “go on.” you nod your head as your hand reaches out to hold his cheek, a part of you actively seeking the compelling warmth that he brings inevitably.
“ever since i came to your homeland in the guise of a fire nation envoy, i’ve been watching you.” he reveals, a hand making its way to remove the hair stained with sweat away from your forehead.
“during the night banquet,” he starts but stops when he feels you tugging on his arm. With your eyes still staring back at him and your attention unmistakably still on him, you requested that he pull himself off of the distracting layers he wore that felt unfair considering you are completely bare beneath him.
he nods his head, lets you undo the buttons in front before finally yanking the layers off. “you danced.” he continues. “i sat in the front row and saw how you danced for the delegates of other nations. for me.” there a glint of desire sparking through the amber irises of his eyes. and without hesitation, he dives back in.
he connects both of your lips once more as you finally rid of his entire upper clothing. your hands waste no time in exploring the entirety of his bare skin. this unfamiliar territory becomes less intimidating when done with him, your husband.
“ever since then, i started looking for you.”
he says it so casually as if it was the obvious thing on the planet but he’s unaware of the effect that he has on you for his mere words have your heart racing and your blood coursing all through out your body. most especially to your cheeks and down there.
zuko moves further down and his warmth is absent from your hands. you cope with the absence by opting to tug onto his hair.
You squirm underneath his touch when his lips press over your stomach and his hands firmly on your hips. thumb caressing the flawless skin before trailing his tongue down. he stops midway and sinks back to suck on your inner thigh.
at first it felt painful. the firelord had this teeth digging deep into your flesh and his lips sucking against it. you shut your lips close, afraid that even the slightest of sound would startle him and he’d stop. you have no idea how to navigate this strange experience you’re partaking in for the first time. and your heart races, mixed with feelings of satisfaction and with fear that you make a mistake and the firelord changes his mind.
you let out a quiet moan when zuko’s breath fans over your pussy. your breath hitches and you sit up when you feel a foreign feeling touching so close to your untouched bud.
zuko is startled when you sit up. he straightens for a second to seek any discomfort in your expression, but instead of finding one, he sees confusion.
“are you alright? have i done something wrong? please, tell me.” he begs. as if the thought of ever being responsible for your discomfort is a nightmare to him. desperate for your answer, he gets none. in lieu on an answer, he gets a worried hand atop of his on your stomach.
“i-i’m sorry… i’m really…” you breathed out, “unused to this, my lord.” you admit.
zuko realizes the root of the problem and gives you an assuring smile.
“please, relax, my love.” he ushers before finding himself face to face with your pussy once more. he feels your muscles relax and after confirming you’re all good, he sinks into your warmth.
you don’t have the words to describe it. but you’re sure he’s an expert. because in just a mere second of beginning, he’s already got you in an arch. your eyes closed as you fisted the bedsheet beneath your hand trying to fight off the satisfying ache of his tongue against your sensitiveness.
“m-my lord,” you moan out, turning your head to the side to bury yourself into the creases of the pillow that make you rest comfortably. but the way zuko’s tongue enters inside of you doesn’t help. you let out a loud moan muffled by the pillows while your dear husband continues to satisfy you with his tongue.
he starts circling his thumb on your clit and you’ve reached overstimulation.
you don’t know how this goes but you feel this wave slowly building and it’s going to crash down very soon. a few more strokes and kisses and you yell out a moan. your body trembles as zuko leans away when your cum comes spilling out, adorning his work of art. You turn sideways, closing your legs as you curl up, feeling as though you have a knot in your stomach.
zuko watches you tremble as you come down from your high. he peeks at your expression hidden in your forearm and catches a glimpse of tears streaming down your eyes.
he pulls your arm away from your face and turns you over so you’re back to facing him. he hovers over you before asking, “are you alright?” with teary eyes, you assure him with a nod of your head. “good.”
he captures both of your wrists and pins them above your head. he ignites a small flame in his fingertip and he traces it across your body to get a brighter view. his eyes are glinting his desire and his lips are glossy with your juices.
“your skin is flawless.”
he remarks. Noticing the scar-free skin that his hand is currently holding. he looks back at you. “you still haven’t told me the reason, beautiful.” he pinches the flesh in your waist, coaxing you to tell him all about your habit and routine and essentially, more about yourself and the secrets that you carry.
“if you compare my figure to those other courtesan at the house,” you begin. “you’d realize that i don’t have the typical courtesan figure.” you stare at him. lips pursed into a hateful line, as if you’re hating yourself that you’re telling him this because the only person that’s ever come close to your vulnerability is ling alone.
“does that make you less of a courtesan?”
zuko slips a finger into your wetness and you whimper at the contact. zuko ushes you to continue while he pumps his fingers in and out of you.
you shake your head. “but I didn’t have many—ah—clients to begin.” you moaned while talking, biting your lip to focus back on your story while you jerk beneath him, feeling the knot form again. “so to attract more customers…” you breath out sharply, “ah—I had to use what I had. I took care of my skin… more than ah—nything.”
he fastens his pace all of the sudden and you feel as if you’re going to break. the knot forming in your stomach becomes tighter and tighter. you wiggle again as if trying to ease the immense satisfaction you’re feeling. his fingers are long and they’re reaching a deep part inside you, a part that seems to leave on edge.
“f-fuck, my lord—i’m a-ah close…”
“customers?” zuko finally asks, picking up his pace even more and seeing your face contort with pleasure, he leans down to give your lonely lips a kiss. “have you done this before with them?”
and when his fingertips hit your good spot for the last time, you finally come undone on his fingers. cum oozing out to cover his fingers but instead of wiping it away, your husband licks it off of himself.
“no way,” you answer his question before he leans down to kiss you again. making out with you for the nth time of the night.
“why not? you are delectable.” he teases, referencing to how sweet you tasted.
you look away with furrowed eyebrows and an embarrassed blush, “that’s not how courtesans work, my lord.” you huff out.
you bite your lip before sharply turning your head back in front to watch as zuko line up his cock at your entrance. he looks at you when he sees you staring, you nod your head then push yourself to elevation using your elbows.
“hm,” zuko hums out. “then do share, my love.”
his tip sinks out of view and into you. you whimper at the thickness and size. he’s big. and an inexperienced wife like you would need some time adjusting. you bite your lips until it bleed. zuko groans, trying to push himself inside of your tight hole but it was no use, you were still too tense.
“my love,” he breathlessly calls out. “you’re going to break my dick off.”
you apologize, “please relax, it’s just me.”
and you wonder why it’s so easy when it’s with him.
his entire length disappears, moulding inside of you and the unusual feeling of fullness makes your mind all hazy and you feel drunk. zuko pressed onto your stomach before he begins to push in and out.
“you’ve still got a story to tell, my love.” he reminds but all you can feel is pleasure from the sensation of having zuko’s dick thrust in and out of you in a quickened pace. your breast bounces with the thrusting and zuko latches on one of them, swirling his tongue around your nipple and your mind goes haywire with overstimulation.
“a—ah a c-courtesan’s value is… ah—” you moan, words inconsistently leaving your lips. “b-based off of her—ah fuck—pureness.” you groan when zuko picks his pace up even more. the sound of skin slapping resonates across the spacious room and your bed creaks with the impact of thrusting. the wetness that you hear is vile and the room reeks of sex.
“go on,” zuko hums, attaching a finger on your clit as he thrusts in a steady pace, the other hand wrapped around your hips to pull you back in.
“essentially, one’s… a—fuck ch-chastity…”
when you say that last word, zuko’s lips came to kiss you harshly on the lips. pride swallows him when he realizes he’s your first. His lips chase after yours as you try and keep up with his thrusts.
“ah fuck—fuck… i’m so—so ah close, my lord.” you wrap your arms around him.
“because of that, i’ve never really let a man touch my skin because it’s my most valued asset that got my through life.” you whisper while you bury yourself in the crevice of his toned neck. voice muffled as you begin to cry again, feeling the knot slowly on the edge of undoing.
“then it’s a good thing you’re not a courtesan anymore but my wife now.” his thrusts quicken and they become harsher that you feel the tip of his dick hitting your good spot in the best way possible.
he repositions you, he holds your legs above and places them on his shoulders and his thrusts get even deeper. your mind is hazy and you’re free from any form of thought right now.
“because i’d never forgive myself for tainting such skin with my marks if i weren’t your husband.”
the knot finally comes undone and you’re left trembling underneath him again. your legs slowly descend from his shoulders and settle on either side of his hips. your body shaking as you come down from your hair, white cum oozing out of your pussy with his dick still inside of you.
but it’s not just you who’s stimulated with orgasmic pleasure. he groans, calling out for your name when he shoots his load deep inside of you. you feel his dick spasming inside of you and you clench around him. his head drops and he rests on your chest.
“a—ah, my lord—”
“zuko.”
“please give me a chance, [name].”
that was crazy y is tumblr so hard to write with countless typos so sorry for that i cant write smut ffs
