hey superstars, i need a change of (s)pace so i’ll be moving blogs. the url will be shared upon request but before you decide to join me over there, let it be known that i likely will not be posting fandom writing. at the moment i just want to be present without feeling the pressure to contribute so i hope that's okay :3
hey superstars, i need a change of (s)pace so i’ll be moving blogs. the url will be shared upon request but before you decide to join me over there, let it be known that i likely will not be posting fandom writing. at the moment i just want to be present without feeling the pressure to contribute so i hope that's okay :3
left my eye appointment with no glasses or contacts bc 1) i did not like the glasses offered and 2) my contact brand got discontinued and my prescription was not in the office
happy humpday superstars~ 🌟🌟 sua is super proud of u for making it halfway through the week! sending ur blorbos to shower u with kisses as congratulations / motivations to power through the rest of the week!
okkotsu yuuta x f!reader ﾉ 3k wc. ﾉ smut ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ oral (f!receiving, mentions of m!receiving) ﾉ face sitting :3 ﾉ clothed sex ﾉ subby yuta ﾉ reader is a little mean at moments ﾉ jealousy
You can’t say that you normally time how long it takes Yuuta to answer his door, but you can say that it never takes this long. You add the oddity to your growing mental list titled: “Ways Yuuta has changed since having sex for the first time.” It’s not one you ever saw yourself making, but life has a way of throwing curve balls at people, and this seems to be the one pitched to you.
Maybe Yuuta feels a bit different these days, but he’s still Yuuta. You’re sure you’ll get used to this new version of him soon enough.
A few more long seconds pass before you hear footsteps on the other side of the door and the barrier swings open, revealing Yuuta in all his glory.
“So you are home,” you comment with a smile upon finally being met with the sight of him. You don’t see him as often these days and that fact makes you sadder than you’d like to admit. So, you soak him in silently—the perpetual dark crescents beneath his eyes, the dark hair that hangs over the left side of his forehead, the way his hand almost unconsciously always finds its way to rest on his neck.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes with that familiar, sheepish grin of his. At least some things never change. “Come in.”
The way he ushers you in and guides you back to his bedroom leads you to believe that you unintentionally interrupted him. He’s thumbing through the shirts in his closet when you come to stand by his bed and ask, “Did I catch you in the middle of something?”
“Oh, I’m heading out later so I was just getting ready.” You stop yourself from getting comfortable on his mattress at his response, although, when he turns around with a button up in hand, he uses his other to wave the misunderstanding away. “You can hang out though.”
“Where are you going?” you ask him, plopping down on his bed. The scent lingering on his pillowcase and sheets is fresh like he just washed the bedding. However, you can still pick out a hint of the fragrance he wears regularly—warm and just a little woody.
“Out for drinks,” he tells you. He’s in the process of trading out the t-shirt he’s been lounging in for the one he just picked out when your silence finally registers. A look over his shoulder at you is enough to tell him that the answer doesn’t satisfy you. The expression you’re wearing is telling—like you know there’s more that he chose not to say. It doesn’t seem like you’re backing down, either. With your silent prompting, he adds, “With a girl.”
“Another date?” You have to stop yourself from frowning. “Didn’t you go out with some other chick over the weekend?”
This is exactly why you haven’t seen him lately—he’s so busy meeting women and taking them home to fuck that he barely has time to spare for you. You’ve always thought that if he’s happy, you would be, too, but you have to admit that that isn’t the case. It’s worrying—how quickly he went from such a timid guy with no sexual experience to one who’s getting laid every three days.
You aren’t sure if this is coming from a place of concern for the girls crossing paths with him or if the whole fuckboy persona is beginning to become off putting to you, but you find yourself asking, “And they all know this is casual? That you’re seeing other girls two days after you hook up with them?”
“It sounds bad when you put it like that…” he starts, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. He’s only gotten around to fastening the bottom half of them, leaving the unblemished skin of his chest on display. “But yeah, we’re all on the same page.”
It’s still hard to believe that the shy little Yuuta you’ve come to know has turned over a promiscuous new leaf. It would be one thing if he simply lost his virginity and settled down with one partner, but the extent of his sexual activities has truly surprised you. A question comes to mind—one that you normally wouldn’t ask your other friends but an important one considering Yuuta only just started sleeping around. “You’re getting tested, right?”
The question doesn’t phase him the way you think it will. You expect his eyes to widen and a furious red to overtake his cheeks and the tips of his ears, but neither happens. He simply nods. “Yes, of course.”
“And you’re wearing condoms?” You follow up.
“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into place. “Who knows how many women I’ve gotten pregnant by now.”
You can’t hide the disbelief that paints your features—the way your mouth hangs open and your unblinking gaze is glued on the man before you. The shock of his words makes it difficult to find your voice, and you’re sure it comes out higher than usual when you finally do. “Yuuta, you cannot—“
“I’m joking!” he exclaims with a wide smile. It shrinks into something smaller when he sees how serious you are. “Yes, I am wearing condoms. Geez, what’s with the third degree?”
“It’s nothing, just wanna make sure you’re being safe.” You had planned on sticking around until it was time for him to leave, but the thought of staying here while he’s getting ready to see—to fuck—someone else isn’t a pleasant one. You swing your legs over the side of his bed and stand up, making your way to the door. “I’m leaving. Have fun fucking your flavor of the day.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Yuuta reaches out to grab your arm. His calloused grip is warm and firm, though, you’re sure you could pull away if you wanted to—he’s made sure of that much. Despite that, you don’t. “You aren’t jealous, are you?”
“Wow,” you scoff and turn to face him. There’s a sparkling glint in his eyes, one that has no place being there. “You have seriously let this inflate your ego.”
Your comment doesn’t offend him, doesn’t hurt him the way you secretly wished it would. Instead, his thumb glides against your wrist, runs over your pulse as he leans down closer to you. His voice comes out just above a whisper. “You aren’t curious? Not even a little?”
“Not everyone wants you, Yuuta.” You finally pull your hand back. “Someone should really put you in your place.”
Your words put a smile on his face. “Are you volunteering?”
You have no idea what’s gotten into him, why he’s poking you like a bear and looking for a reaction, but his incessant goading has done its job. Reflexively, almost without a thought, your hands come up to shove the broad chest before you. Yuuta stumbles back and his legs hit the mattress, causing him to fall back against it.
For the first time since you walked in, shock washes over Yuuta’s face the moment you begin to approach him. You find yourself crawling on the bed and straddling him, your hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his head. His lips are parted now and they only seal when he swallows the lump lodged in his throat.
It’s almost enough to make you laugh—how quickly his tune changed from confident to a bundle of nerves. You guess this has yet to happen to him—not being the one who’s calling the shots, that is. Maybe you aren’t quite laughing, but it does make a grin stretch across your lips.
“What happened, Yuuta?” you ask him, sitting back on your calves. You lift your hand and bring it to his face, letting your finger drag along the curve of his jaw. It may just be your imagination, but you swear you can feel him shiver at your touch. “You were practically begging for this just a second ago. But if you changed your mind, I’ll get up and go.”
“No.” He shakes his head, the hair against his comforter growing frizzy with the careless movement. His hands come up to rest on your hips. “Please stay.”
“Ah-ah.” You knock his hands away and panic flashes over the man’s face. “No touching. You have to earn that.”
He swallows thickly and gazes up at you with curiosity swimming in his eyes. “H-how?”
“Be good for me,” you tell him, the grin apparent in your voice. You brush the stray strands of hair away from his face before leaning down just like Yuuta had to you only moments earlier. This time, you’re sure that he shivers when your whispered voice tickles him as you ask, “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Your fingernails graze over his exposed skin—down his neck, over his shoulders, along his collarbone, anywhere you reach. It’s meant to be no more than a way to keep you busy while you wait for a reply from Yuuta, but he seems to enjoy the touch and the way goosebumps raise following the drag of your nails. Although his quiet moans are easy on the ears, it’s a bit boring for your taste. Your hand slows on its path in search of an answer. “Hmm?”
You’re almost convinced that his voice is stuck in his throat when his request finally fills the air. “K-kiss me, please.”
You waste no time fulfilling his wish, brushing your lips over the same spots your fingers had just been, stopping every now and then to press them down in soft kisses. They grow deeper as you traverse against his smooth skin, love bites marking the once spotless canvas. By the time you make your way up to his lips, your kiss is hungry, almost desperate on your end and his—like the both of you have been silently waiting for this moment to come.
As much as you enjoy Yuuta’s pillowy lips against yours and the way he melts for you when your tongue slips past them, you have a desire for more. You keep that bit to yourself so as not to feed Yuuta’s existing albeit dormant cockiness, though, you are willing to nudge him in the right direction.
You pull back from the kiss, still close enough that Yuuta can feel your breath when you speak. “Don’t tell me all you want is for me to kiss you. There must be something else…”
There are a lot of things that come to mind, a lot of things Yuuta has dreamt of doing with you, but one rises above the rest. He can only hope that you’re willing to indulge him. “Would you…” his voice trails off as he turns his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.
“Go ahead,” you start, grabbing his chin and turning his head so that he’s looking at you, “Ask me.”
He’s never felt this hesitant before, but none of the women he’s slept with have been you. They’ve never made him ask for what he wants, patiently waited until he verbalized his desires. And he hasn’t wanted that, no, not from them. As foreign as the task is, he’ll do it if that means finally getting a taste of you.
Despite the warmth spreading over his cheeks, Yuuta forces himself to hold your eye. “Can you—can you please sit on my face?”
Hearing the words pass his lips makes your heart jump in your chest. The goal had been to get him to admit what he craved the most, but part of you believed that Yuuta was still holding onto his old ways, too bashful and shy to come clean about his needs. Perhaps you’re holding onto a version of him that he’s left behind for good, though, you want to see for yourself. “You really want me to?”
“God, yes, please.” His fingers dig into the comforter beneath him in an attempt to keep from touching you like you told him, even though he’s itching to. He’ll be patient, be good—for you. “I want to taste you so bad.”
Shy little Yuuta really is gone.
But you suppose it isn’t all that bad.
You crawl forward over him to situate yourself. His breath is warm against your bare thighs and it makes your skin prickle. You hike the skirt you’re wearing up your legs so the fabric doesn’t obstruct your view of his face—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see the show.
“You aren’t going to take off your panties?” Yuuta asks. He’s only inches away now, and he’s sure if he tilted his head up just a little bit, he’d be able to stick his tongue out and reach you.
You shake your head with a smile. “I’ll tell you when you can move them. You can lick me through them for now.”
There’s a complaint ready on the tip of his tongue about how he wants to taste and feel you—only you, but he bites it back, figuring that you’ll revoke your generosity entirely if he seems ungrateful. Patience, he reminds himself. If he’s patient, he’ll have all of you soon enough.
He wets his lips before diving in, tongue sloppily licking at the layer of cotton keeping him from you. Despite the barrier, he can make out your landmarks—the lips he’s wishing his tongue could slip between and your clit that he desperately wants to suck on. Even though it isn’t quite what he was expecting, he eats you out through your panties like a man starved.
The fabric is soaked through now and if it weren’t for the hint of you on his tongue, Yuuta would wonder whether it was his spit or your arousal leaving a darkened spot on your panties. The thought that he got you wound up enough to soak through your underwear oddly fills him with a sense of pride—feeds the ego you claimed he had earlier. He had brushed it off then but it’s hard to ignore now considering that you’re the woman he’s wanted to do this with for the longest.
Yuuta is a lot more talented with his tongue than you anticipated he would be. You can’t remember the last time someone drew such satisfied noises from you—sharp gasps that you suck in whenever he happens to brush against your clit and musical moans that fill the room when he finds that magical rhythm. You’re beyond pleased with his performance, but an unwelcome thought nags at the back of your mind as the man eats you out; just how many women did it take him tongue-fucking for it to feel this good? You know you shouldn’t say it, but you voice your thoughts anyway. The question comes out breathy, “Did you learn to use your tongue like this on all those other girls?”
“They–” he starts, licking you once more before continuing, “they were all practice for you.”
The ache between your thighs grows all the stronger with his confession. You don’t doubt the sincerity of his words—if there’s one thing that you know Yuuta will never abandon, it’s his honesty. You can admit to yourself that you were jealous earlier, jealous of all the women Yuuta decided to sleep with instead of you. The envy has all but dissipated now that you know you’ve always been the object of his affection.
“Push them to the side,” you tell him hurriedly. Yuuta doesn’t waste a second following your command, hooking a finger on your panties to drag them to the side. Your glistening wetness is hypnotizing and if he wasn’t already salivating this sight would surely be enough to have him drooling. He thinks he could stare at your pretty pussy all day, but what he really wants is for you to come on his tongue.
Before you know it, he’s lapping at you like your arousal is the very water that he needs to survive. There’s saliva running down his chin as he savors the taste of you. The vibration of his moans against you serves as a means to work you up even more, moans and whimpers of your own bubbling up from your chest.
It’s nearly impossible for you not to grind down on him, to ride his face like there’s no tomorrow. Yuuta doesn’t mind being trapped between your thighs, only being able to breathe in your heavenly scent and taste your honey-like essence. His tongue glides between your folds, teasing your entrance with each up and down.
“Ride my tongue,” Yuuta’s muffled voice sounds from below you. “Use me to come.”
And you do, rocking your hips against his face in rhythm with the salacious movement of his tongue. Each flick of the muscle is a drop in your cup that’s filled to the brim, threatening to spill over and flood at any moment. All it takes are a few swirls of his tongue around your sensitive pearl for a wave of pleasure to wash over you. Your thighs tremble with your orgasm and your back arches as the aftershocks ripple through you, all while Yuuta continues to languidly stroke your cunt.
He hums against you as you come down from your high, leaving a kiss on your clit before telling you, “You taste so good.”
The compliment makes your heart flutter. “You think so?”
He nods, or at least tries to from his place between your legs. “The best I’ve ever had.”
“Well then I guess it’s only fair for me to return the favor,” you suggest, letting your head loll to the side. You can practically see the gears turning in Yuuta’s head, but he doesn’t speak up to question you, instead, waiting for your clarification. “What do you say; want me to suck you off?”
manon here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!
no bcs youre so right abt the panty snatcher tamsy thing... dont let anyone dim your sparkle because thats exactly what i need idc idc 💔 #needthat
forgive me for answering this so soon after getting it (i am not feral, i promise) but!!!!! doesn’t it just make sense?? his freakish nature is far too attractive bc i am 100% encouraging this behavior
