MDNI/18+ only, voyeurism, masturbation, use of toys, unprotected sex, creampie
Pervy Roommate!Shidou walks around the house in nothing but boxers. If it were up to him, he’d just be walking around naked—hell he was, before you complained to him.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou grabs your hips and fake thrusts whenever you bend over to grab something from the ground.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou who’s jerking off on the couch. The floor plan is open, so you’d definitely see him if you were to come home—which, oh! What a great timing. The front door clicks open. And in you walk. He feels his cock stir in his hand.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou only tilts his head back onto the couch. “Welcome home,” he grunts. Not once stopping his ministrations. You still in the door opening, mouth opening and closing. Eventually you hiss out a “What the hell, Shidou!” and stumble—almost sprint—to your room. Your face bright red. Just before you close your door he hears a ‘perv’ fall from your lips.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou who fists his cock to the sweet, sweet sounds you make while playing with yourself. You probably don't even realise how thin the walls are. The shlick shlick shlick of his fist pumping his cock almost drowns out your sound. Now that won’t do, would it?
Pervy Roommate!Shidou stands up and quietly opens his door. Tiptoeing his way over your door, he opens it slightly. There you are on your bed. Tank top pushed over your tits, completely naked from the waist down. Your back is arched, biting down on your knuckles. You’re pumping a hot pink dildo into that sweet cunt of yours, plump lips gripping around the toy.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou nearly groans at the sight. A few beads of pre leaking out of his slit. His hand moves in tandem with your toy, hoping, wishing, it was him instead. Biting down on his lower lip, he closes his eyes for a second. God you’d grip him so good. Opening his eyes, he looks at you once more.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou realises—albeit a bit late—that the pink of your dildo matches his eyes. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— his abs tighten, fist speeding up slightly, before he cums right then and there. Hot white spilling over his hand, his abs, and even on the door. Teeth sinking into his plush lip even harder until they draw blood. His cock jumps at the sensation, a bit more of cum splurting out.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou stays there like that—cum everywhere, blood dripping down his lip—until you cum with a cry. Your back arches so violently, thighs trembling, eyes closed. His cock springs to life in his hand, again. The cum from his hand is dripping down onto the floor pathetically, forming a small puddle near his feet.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou is about to walk away when he hears it. “Fuck Ryu—”his head snaps back to the door, heart pounding. Did you see him? If so, he’d just walk in honestly. Instead he’s greeted by you straddling the pink toy, hovering just above it. Being able to see it fully now, he sizes the thing up. It's definitely not as girthy or lengthy as he is.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou almost opens the door when you sink down onto the toy with a ‘Fuck Ryusei, so big.’ He stays there, watching, for the rest of the evening.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou who walks up behind you the next morning. You’re sitting on the couch, a book in hand, completely immersed. He feels his cock jump the moment he sees you, images of last night running rampant through his mind. Leaning in his lips graze the shell of your ear.
“Had a fun time last night?” he breathes out. Voice fully cocky.
Your head turns so fast, he wonders if you’ve given yourself whiplash.
“What?” you blurt out, cheeks heating up.
He just smirks. “Y’know, when you were bouncing on that pretty pink-colored toy of yours moaning out my name. ‘Ohhhh Ryusei, plea—’”
He gets cut off when your hand connects to his cheek. A red handprint instantly blooming.
“You were watching?!” you hiss out, mortified.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou feels himself get fully hard the moment you slapped him. A small whimper falling from his lips. Yes, he fucking whimpered the moment you slapped him. You gape out at him. Eyes traveling down his body to see his evident boner. “You cannot be serious.”
Pervy Roommate!Shidou has you bent over the couch a mere ten minutes later. Ass up, head into the cushions, your cunt dripping.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou drags his cockhead through your slit, bumping your clit once. Twice. Teasing your quivering hole, he pushes in slightly before popping it back out. You whine out. “Quit teasin’”
He just hums, grabbing both your ass cheeks and pulling them apart. He groans at the sight. One hand leaves your cheek to grip his shaft instead. Lining himself up, he leans forward.
“Biiiig stretch,” he whispers while pushing in. You're clawing at the cushions, trying to find something to grip onto.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou throws his head back. Fuuuckk, you feel even more amazing than he could’ve imagined; so wet, warm, and tight. He stills, not even halfway inside. Shidou’s had hookups before—a lot of them, actually—but none of them have ever felt like this. Your hips buck back against his. An impatient whine rips itself from your throat. He smacks your ass, watching it jiggle.
“You always this pathetic for your roommates’ cock?”
Pervy Roommate!Shidou sets a brutal pace from the start, not letting you get used to the way he’s stretching out your walls in the slightest. Your walls are clamping down onto him like a vice. “Look at her, doesn't even wanna let go of me,” he chuckles. The only sounds that can be heard are the moans, groans and the faint creak of the couch moving inch by inch with each harsh trust.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou rubs your clit in small circle eights, and then tries to discreetly spell out his name on your clit. You’re too far gone to even notice it. Drool collecting on the couch below you in a small puddle. “Whose pussy is this?”
When you don't reply he stills. Thrust ceasing, finger gone from your clit. “Asked you a question, roomie.”
“Yours, please Shidou, it's yours. Please move,” tears are collecting on your waterline, the high you were chasing ebbing away with each second that he's not moving.
“Thaaat’s right, slutty girl.”
Pervy Roommate!Shidou has you cumming not even two minutes later; walls spasming around him, thighs trembling, hips jerking, forming a creamy ring around his base. Laughing he leans his chest against your back. “Feel her gripping me. You love letting your roommate fuck you, don’t you.”
Pervy Roommate!Shidou is emptying his balls inside of you mere minutes later, painting your entire womb a shade of white.
Pervy Roommate!Shidou now walks around the house naked whenever he so pleases. You haven’t done anything since, haven’t even looked at him, but he knows it only takes so much time before you come crawling back to him. Have him fill you up again. And he can only wish that it’s sooner rather than later.
A/n: This is honestly just for me to practice smut, and what better way than to use the horniest boy in Blue Lock. Anyway constructive criticism is always welcome.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who made it his mission to get every living, breathing female creature on campus to scream his name in pleasure. Getting his dick wet in every hole they offered until graduation.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who was about 80 % there already. Even having managed to stick his cock into the hot exchange professor after class once. To everyones suffering, he still brags about it.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who's so into it, he even made a list of names that are still missing to achieve his perverted little goal. And your name sticks out like lightning to him.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who tries to make deliberate advances towards you at the next party. Only to get his ego bruised when you decline all of them with a simple ‘Not interested. Sorry.’ and a shrug of your shoulders.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who flirts with the secretary to get your timetable and sits a few rows behind you in your classes instead of attending his own and follows you around town when you're out meeting friends, just to get a feel for what you like.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who can't get over someone saying no to his charm and starts courting you to the point he forgets all about other girls.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who finally gets you to say yes to a date. Only to realize that he doesn't have any clue on how to prepare something like that. How was he supposed to impress you enough you'd let him into your pants?!
Fuckboy Shidou! Who seemingly did manage to impress you enough to have you sprawled in his sheets the same night. Completely impressed by the way you can keep up and match his freak.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who can't get enough of you and your sweet body. The way your desperate begging and pleas for more, turn into whimpers of his name with your trembling legs locked around his hips even though you say it's too much.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who was never one for giving oral. Not seeing the point in wasting his limited time with a chick on something he doesn't get any stimulation from when his dick always seemed plenty enough to get them to limp out of his room satisfied. But who then is greedily licking in between your thighs, never wanting to stop tasting.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who was so intent on throwing you out in the morning, like every other girl, but finds himself pulling you closer into his chest on instinct when the first rays of sunshine hit his eyes.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who gets made fun of by his whole frat for finally succumbing to one simple girl after strutting downstairs with hickeys, bite marks and scratches all over his shirtless self.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who takes his friends' comments as an insult to your striking beauty, your perfect body and overwhelmingly tight cunt and is ready to throw punches at his mates for it. They just don't understand.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who gets all tense when your smaller hand finds his and whose ears turn a bright red at how you stand there in just his shirt, rubbing your tired eyes and mumbling something about breakfast.
Fuckboy Shidou! Who's tugging you along out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, grunting in displeasure over his own stupid behavior and muttering something about showing everyone who's boss. His mates are still dying in a fit of laughter as he pounds you into the mattress again for good measure.
@missyonmission
This work is entirely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, places, organizations, or events is purely coincidental. No factual representations are intended.
you’re minding your business at the courtyard when a tan man with ombre hair approaches you.
“hey there, beautiful. my name’s ryusei.”
“shut the fuck up, i’m not here to make friends,” you say, flipping through another page in your book.
“oh yeah, i love ‘em feisty!” his pupils practically form into hearts as he takes a seat next to you, making you sigh heavily. “what are you in for, baby? hold on, lemme guess…” he holds up a finger as you stare at him, his eyes scanning you. “it can’t be an eating disorder ‘cause that ass is fat!” he points over at you, hooting like a maniac in an attempt to hype himself up.
“can you leave me alone, pink tips?” you scowl.
“oh, i got a pink tip for you, alright,” he smirks, nodding to himself proudly before you smack him with a book.
“nurse!” you yell out.
“you smacked me and you’re snitching?!” he says, looking at you with sad puppy dog eyes as the nurses pull you two apart.
TOP 10 REASONS WHY I THINK SAE IS THE FREAKIEST GUY IN BLUE LOCK 😱😳🫣🤭🤪
note: this is all just fun in games and some are taken WAYYY out of context, but I genuinely do think from the bottom of my heart that Sae is a freaky guy and I love it 😈 🙏 I do mention Shidou here and there but that doesn’t imply that I ship 😭 although I prefer ryusae over fucking buns bunnysae 🙁
bllk! masterlist
main! masterlist
1. Sae has a fucking ass fetish, tbf this is kinda common knowledge but LET ME FURTHER EXPAND.
First of all, it’s stated that he has a butt fetish. A fetish. Now let’s take a look at the Oxford Dictionary definition of the word ‘fetish’ and place our thinking hats on for a sec. 🤨🤨🤨
Anyone with a brain cell or two knows what a fucking fetish is , but the bllk bible facts tells us straight up that Sae has a form of sexual desire to bum cheeks 💔 (lucky for me bc my ass is so fat). Okay, this could just be an exaggeration. Perhaps the word that the author was meant to use wasn’t exactly definitive of the word ‘fetish’. So let’s give Sae the benefit of the doubt and hear him out.
When he says that he can determine athletic ability by looking at asscheeks, he means specifically the shape and I acc totally understand what he means by this and wholeheartedly agree. However, how the hell did he even come to that realisation in the first place? Sae must’ve had to stare at asscheeks, and not just once, BUT MULTIPLE TIMES AND IN DIFFERENT ENVIRONMENTS. He must’ve taken many samples from across different types of people to determine whether there truly was a correlation (of size and shape of bum) by causation (athletic abilities) 💔
2. This leads to my next point, his affinity towards the sea.
Some people have stated that it’s bc Sae often hanged around the sea with Rin in their younger years, and yeah I get that. But the sea/beach is where you also see SWIMSUITS AND SUMMER BODIES! 😈🙏
3. Next is his favourite season, end of summer.
Oh I’m sure that’s why buddy 🤓. Give me a fucking break, I’m sure it’s not bc the end of summer is the last time you get to see swimsuits and ass cheeks 😒🙏
4. It was originally Sae that spoke to Shidou, AND FROM THE START IT WAS HIM THAT WAS NOT NORMAL.
I mean who the hell just calls someone ‘my little demon’ upon first greetings 😭. Like Sae has no idea who this is and he’s already using possessive pronouns, now imagine him saying that to you 😏
5. Sae acknowledges what being freaky is, so he’s got a definition of what it means to be so. He also matches Shidou’s freak majority of the time and just goes along with the latter’s shenanigans.
He calls Shidou ‘horny’, and this makes me think about the common proverb, “It takes one to know one”. This implies that the person making the accusation (Sae) possesses the same quality as the one who he’s criticising (Shidou). Sae is only able to recognise Shidou’s hypersexual tendencies bc he himself exhibits it (on a nonchalant level ofc).
6. On the note of Sae matching Shidou’s freak, there was a specific panel that stuck out to me.
Sae’s response to Shidou jizzing mid game be kind of taken out of context. “Don’t blow your load just yet.” If you squint, you can see the implication of Sae’s words, “just yet.” Sae doesn’t tell him to hold his nut it, he just says to do it later. Nonchalant king isn’t even shocked that somebody wants to fucking come mid-match, like wtf 😭
Furthermore, I’d like to also point out that his comment can be an indication that he prolly also says stuff like, “You can only come when I tell you to/when I give you permission” to whoever he’s getting freaky with, and all the other variants of that dom top 😈 FREAKYYYY? I THINK YES!
7. The depth of Sae’s greed/ego
When he says that his ‘singular interest is becoming the best in the world’ as opposed to Sendou who is going to be ‘the top scorer in the nation’, Sae is comparing the measures of both their greeds. Just even the word ‘greed’ is thought provoking as well. He then mentions how Sendou will mostly likely settle down with a ‘gravure idol’, and that got me thinking, what kind of person would Sae settle for? Especially with his excessive greed and insatiable desire. How much can a gravure idol (who’s known nationally) compare to a WORLD WIDELY KNOWN, BIG TITTED, FAT CHEEKED BADDIE to Sae🗣️
8. Constantly has lotion on him
Was the obscene sound effects rlly necessary? Was it supposed to be a sexual innuendo? Makes me wonder what else he uses his lotion for 😞
9. Need I say more to the next one
I can’t tell if he’s casually lounging or if he’s gonna film an R-Rated adult movie with me 😂 like why does he have his legs spread wide open? All that room for the third leg? COUNT ME IN 😈
10. Itoshi Sae, the brat tamer (I needed smth for no 10 bc I didn’t know what else to put 💔)
Just look at that FOUL expression 🤭 His irritation towards Bunny who must’ve clearly pissed him off which leads him to acc want to play in Japan u20 team??? Chalant king would be ready to go thru the extra mile just to humiliate you (freakily) 😭🙏
Guys reason 10 is so buns Idek what I’m saying anymore💔 BUT TRUSSTTT SAE IS FREAKY ASSF IK FIRST HAND HOW FREAKY HE GETS GUYS 🤪🥱
SYNOPSIS ᯓ★ All you wanted was a quiet anniversary with the man who’s been away for international matches and sponsorships. But when plans change and you hang up the phone on him, he’ll soon make you realise that you should’ve just cooperated with him to begin with…
CONTENT ᯓ★ +18 (MDNI) Modern AU, set in France, Pro Footballer! Shidou, Dom! Shidou, reader is French, foul language, miscommunication, cunninglus, degradation, dom/sub dynamic, brat taming, power play, minor choking, creampie, sofa fucking, backshots, missionary, hair pulling, fluff ending (gotta end it with something sweet)
Wc ᯓ★ 5.4k
Did I take long to release a Shidou fic for his birthday? Yes but we don’t talk about that 🙂↕️ Now please enjoy my king’s fic — 🐉 ⋆｡°·𓂃🖊
It started with a pair of broken Mikage Corp earphones and a six-foot pro footballer who looked like he was on the verge of crashing out.
Even in the streets of Paris, tourists cluster with their tour guide leading the way, the never-ending taxis honking for pedestrians to get a move on, and the street performers urging others to put their attention on them.
His voice was way louder than the rest.
You weren’t in any rush; especially not on a Friday. Your day off work meant wandering around the city with AirPods plugged in and simply minding your business.
Not stopping in your tracks and accidentally locking eyes with him.
You couldn’t put your finger on it but he looked so familiar. The longer you gaped at him, the sooner you caught a glimpse of the PXG logo poking out from inside his black hoodie. If you remember correctly, your colleagues at work couldn’t stop gossiping about some new players from Japan recently moving to France and joining the PXG team.
You weren't into football, but that didn't stop you from finding him fine as fuck.
Your guess was that he was having a difficult time trying to navigate his way around. He looked out of place and agitated. You could’ve simply minded your business and avoided him like everyone else.
But you didn’t. He seemed like the type of person who clearly needed assistance but would rather suffer in silence.
Thank God that you took up those online Japanese lessons six months ago since your feet moved before you could talk yourself out of talking to him.
And even till this day, you can recall the look that he gave you that contrasted from the rest. His face transitioned from scowling to his eyes softening to the sight of you, like he wasn’t expecting you to be his aid.
“Tch. Finally, someone who doesn’t run away when I look at them.”
That was the start.
Surprisingly, he opened up to you. Showed you a pair of open wired Mikage Corp earphones that needed repairing. And being the person you were, you were his assistance with navigating the repair shop.
And by the end of that afternoon, you’d exchanged numbers. What turned with translation help turned into him texting you at 1 AM asking how to say "You're cute” in French. Which followed by voice notes where he tried (and failed) to pronounce it and you rejected his advances back at him in French.
Then came late-night calls. Teaching him phrases in your low, tired voice that has him holding him back from palming himself through his sweatpants.
Then came the constant invitations to every game he had.
Sitting in the VIP box seat’s, you can’t help but smile when you can see the way Shidou scans the crowd after every game until his wolf-ish gaze lands on you.
“That one of your flings?” Karasu grins, watching you wave sweetly from afar. “Been seeing her at every game we have now. Ya better cuff her before someone beats you to it.”
In a composed manner, Shidou only smirks through gritted teeth while gripping his shoulder. If it wasn’t for the cameraman, his agents and you watching, he would’ve done a lot more to him.
Charles, who just yawns with his fanged tooth on display, shrugs nonchalantly. “Bro she’s clearly more than a fling, she’s pretty cool though.”
And Shidou knew that he was right. You're far from a fling. So far from it that he invited you to another event where all his teammates are drunkenly flirting with numerous women. But he’s the only one that doesn’t partake in their foolishness. Not when he pulls you from your side and kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment.
Lights, camera, paparazzi, gasps and whispers. It all feels too much for you. When it’s just you and him, you're at peace. Even if he takes you on spontaneous dates and takes the lead with everything in your life. You’d rather much prefer that than being in the spotlight.
“No take backs, yeah?”
But for him, you smile through it all.
That was three years ago.
Now, you share a sleek apartment just outside Paris. High-rise view, heated floors, chrome and plush velvet furnishings. You added your own personal touch to it but it’s exactly the kind of place you’d expect a pro footballer to live.
Tonight is your three-year anniversary.
He’s been gone for a week and a half to an away game in Brazil, and you’ve missed him more than you’d admit out loud. Thankfully for you, today is the day he told you that he was flying back home. So what better way than to spend the night together.
The whole evening, you focus on prepping dinner. His favorite? Yukhoe. Your favourite? Steak, medium rare, of course. Paired with garlic mashed potatoes, sticky rice and your secret spicy green sauce he pretends not to like but always finishes.
Whatever Netflix show you decided to put on flickers in the background as you stir the pan, humming quietly to yourself. You’ve definitely gotten used to being alone whenever Shidou would part ways for his away games.
But that didn’t stop you from wishing for him to be by your side, yapping your ear off while his calloused hands smoothing down the sides of your maxi crimson skirt that brushes against your thighs as you move.
Shaking the thoughts away, you glance at the clock. He should be landing right about now.
And almost on cue, your ring tone goes off. You wipe your hands on a towel and check the screen. You were expecting it to be him but not everything works in your favour since it’s his best friend and teammate, Charles, calling you instead.
As much as you're a little disheartened, your smile doesn’t falter one bit.
If anything, he could just be letting you know that himself and Shidou have landed safely. You and Charles had gotten surprisingly close all thanks to Shidou. As Shidou’s teammate and occasional babysitter, he’d naturally become one of your favorite people.
Even if he’s just as batshit crazy as Shidou.
“Hey, Charles.”
“Bonsoir, belle,” he greets you warmly, his singular fanged tooth brushing past his bottom lip while grinning uncontrollably. “We just landed.”
“Good,” you responded, a sigh of relief managing to linger from your lips. “Tell Shidou to get his ass home. Dinner’s almost ready.”
There’s a pause. An awkward yet long one and it’s enough for you to regret ever sighing in relief.
“That’s actually why I’m calling…” feigning casualness, he clears his throat as he manages to continue. “Look, don’t shoot the messenger but Shidou isn’t coming straight home.”
“Huh?”
“He said there's an after-party. One of his sponsors rented out a place. Something lavish as usual but I think you’ll love it.”
Your lips fail to keep its structure, soon crumbling into a frown as you stare at the stove for a second.
“But… tonight’s our anniversary.”
“I know, I know,” Charles says carefully. “I thought he might’ve forgotten, but when I mentioned it, he just said not to worry. That he’s handling it.”
“What does that even mean?” you mutter.
Before he can try to further reassure you, your phone rings again. But this time from Shidou.
Speak of the devil.
You exhale through your nose, already feeling your chest tighten.
“I’ll talk to you later,” you muttered, voice already tight. “He’s calling.”
You didn’t wait for a reply before ending the call and answering Shidou’s.
“Ryu.”
His voice is warm, almost smug and it’s taking everything within you to not end this phone call. “Baby, get dressed.”
“What?”
“I’m sending one of those damn chauffeur’s to come pick you up. Dress real good. Remember that sexy red dress I got for you to wear only for special occasions? Wear that one.”
The more you listen to him babble on, the more your jaw clenches. So for now, you’re holding back from saying anything you’ll regret later. “Do you even know what day it is?”
For once, he goes silent, something that is unexpected from him. Then, his voice drops into that cocky, teasing tone you know too well.
“Of course I do. Don't be silly, it’s the day I get to show you off to everyone what it means to be mine.”
If you didn't know any better, you’d think that he was purposely trying to get a rise out of you. You go quiet for a second, heart pounding but in the way that makes you wish he’d just stop.
“I made dinner,” you say, voice low. “I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks. I thought… we’d spend the night together. Just us.”
“Yeah, but this party’s exclusive, doll. Sponsors, media, big deals. I know you’ll love it.”
“Ryusei,” you say flatly, squeezing your phone tight. “This was supposed to be our night. Just you and me. Not cameras. Not crowds. Us.”
“I’m still with you tonight,” he says, voice tinged with impatience. “What’s up with you? You’ll look stunning, I’ll brag that you’re mine, take photos. I need you to come.”
You shake your head, anger bubbling beneath your skin.
“You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it.”
“I didn’t want lavish or the press. I wanted you. Just you. For one fucking night.”
There’s a pause. Then, he sharply exhales as if you’re being an inconvenience for him, as if you’re the one who’s made last minute plans.
“Fucks sake, don’t make this a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” you snap. “But of course you don’t see that.”
“C’mon, don’t do that, doll.”
“I’m not your damn doll.”
He exhales sharply. “Don’t make me—”
You hang up before he can finish his sentence.
You stare at the dinner you just spent hours preparing. The candles you lit. The soft playlist playing in the background. The gorgeous make up and outfit you put time into.
It all feels like a waste now.
The apartment is quiet yet you prefer it that way if it means you don’t have to hear that idiot’s voice. It's just the sound of lit candles that flicker quietly, now burned halfway and the red wine that clashes from side to side as you swirl your glass around.
You sit curled up on the sofa, hair slightly messy, your face now completely bare after removing your make up.
The plan you had in your mind so far was to give him silent treatment and sleep on the sofa. After the shit he pulled, there was no way you could sleep in the same bed with him or speak to him.
But you’re a fool if you genuinely believe that he’d give you space.
You don’t turn when you hear the front door slam shut. You don’t flinch either.
He’s back and his heavy footsteps echo against the hardwood, fast and careless. He storms into the living room, blonde and pink streaks that’s tousled from travel and a disheveled button down shirt that looked like it had been through way worse than him.
But you don’t look at him.
You keep your gaze locked on the blank TV screen that you switched off long ago, sipping your wine, pretending you’re not aware of the sheer weight of him standing in the room.
He says nothing at first. Not even your name. But from the corner of his eye, his gaze flickers.
The plate of his favourite dish sits before him on the kitchen counter. It's stiff, untouched, the egg yolk has burst long ago and the sauce is now separated. But most importantly, the portion size was what had him popping a vein at his temple.
The effort you put into dinner? Sitting there, unbothered. Just like you, the same way you take another slow sip.
“What the fuck,” He walks to the plate and glares at it, lifting it up before dropping it back down, causing it to clatter. “The fuck is this portion? You rationing or somethin’?”
He’s lucky the plate didn't smash to pieces against the marble counter since that would’ve been the reason you finally spoke up.
Still, you don’t respond. Just set the wine down and rest your head against the back of the sofa. The fact that you still won't speak to him, punishing him with your silent treatment is what aggravates him more.
He slips out a muttered curse, pacing now until his footsteps disappear down the hallway. He sounds like he’s rushed to the bedroom.
Not that you care what the hell he’s doing.
You stay put, still watching your dull reflection through the TV. But minutes later, his footsteps return. And this time… he’s holding something.
You turn your head and it’s the same damn red dress he told you to wear.
You can’t seem to catch a break
His voice is low, sharp, and laced with frustration. “Put it on.”
“Excuse me?”
“Put. It. On.” He tosses it at you, not harsh, but not soft either. It lands on the armrest beside you. “I’m not playin’ with you. We’re going.”
For the first time, you finally snap your head to where he now stands before you. Even with his flared nostrils and gritted teeth, you still don’t back down. “And I said no.”
“No?” he raises his voice, stepping forward. “You’re really doing this right now? After hanging up on me like some brat?”
The harsh scoff escaping from you causes you to cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t you start with me, Ryusei.”
“Oh, I will start,” he growls. “Because you don’t get to cut the line and act like I ruined everything–“
“You forgot our anniversary!”
“I didn’t fuckin’ forget it! I came all the way back here, didn't I? I planned for us to spend it together… Just not here.”
Standing up now, your first instinct is to dig your acrylic nail right in the opening of his button down shirt. “Not here? God, why are you like this? I cooked for us. Wanted us to spend the night together and I waited for you like an idiot–”
Your words die on you instantly where he yanks your wrist, now holding it in place. “Stubborn as fuckin’ ever… if only you knew. I just had a different plan–”
“For yourself,” you cut in. “Not for us. You didn’t ask what I wanted. I wanted to feel like I still fucking matter to you when no one's watching.”
Your words hit the air like a slap. You see the flicker in his eyes, your words hitting him to his core and that does something to him. He gets closer and it’s only now your mouth becomes extremely dry.
“You matter so much I flew straight home to drag your stubborn ass with me.”
Your breath catches as he closes the space between you.
His voice is controlled yet low, you’re close enough to now feel the heat rolling off him. “You matter so much I told three reporters to shut the fuck up about interviews just to make it here.”
“Then act like it!”
“You know what I see?” he mutters, his gaze drops to your mouth. “A spoiled little brat who threw a tantrum because her night didn’t go exactly how she imagined.”
Your narrowed eyes bore into his. “And I see a selfish, cocky bastard who thinks the world should bend just for him.”
His smirk is sinister and its the kind that has you now realising that you’re done for. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t fixed that attitude of yours from the moment he arrived home.
But you’ve spoken too soon.
“Put the fuckin’ dress on,” he says for the nth time, but it’s different this time. It’s rough conjoined with frustration, the last demand he’s giving you yet your actions is what reaches his breaking point.
All it took was for you to grab the dress from the sofa, throwing it back at him, and in an instant, his calloused hands were on your waist. The hold he has on you is unforgiving, calculated and he doesn’t plan being gentle with you.
He could care less if he’s broken a yelp out of you, spinning you around and bending you over the armrest of the couch. In his mind, this is what you need. To be corrected. To follow simple instructions.
Your cheek presses into the cushion. The position’s humiliating; your ass slightly raised, your shorts riding up from the motion.
You hear the sound of his shirt being tugged off and tossed aside. Then it's the low rustle of his belt.
“Since you like slamming phones,” his towering frame hovers over your back. “And since you like talkin’ back,” leaning closer till his lips fan over your ear. “Let’s see if you still have that mouth when I’m done with you.”
From your heart to your chest and your fluttering core, you squirm, but his hand presses into your lower back, pinning you down.
“Stay. Just like that.”
His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your frilly shorts and yank them down along with your lace panties. You gasp as the cool air kisses your exposed skin that's vulnerable and already aching.
“You knew what tonight was,” you breathe out, “but you–”
SMACK.
The slap lands hard and sharp on your ass. You gasp, the burn spreading instantly.
“Ryu–”
“Don’t ‘Ryu’ me.” Another smack. “You don’t hang up on me.” And another. “You don’t ignore me.” And then another. “And you sure as hell don’t get to act spoiled as fuck and expect me to go easy on you.”
Every connection made fills the room along with your sniffles and cries, your hands clutching onto the sofa to brace yourself.
Your thighs uncontrollably tremble but even more so when he leans in close to your ear, with the same dark and low tone he’s been carrying once he got his hands on you.
“You want attention? Fine. But you’ll take it my way.”
A choked gasp sneaks away from your lips when his fingers slide between your thighs, finding you soaked and needy despite everything. He groans, pleased.
“Fuuck, you like this…” he drags out, stuck in a trance as he peers at his white-ringed beefy fingers getting sucked in. “You get off on pushing me.”
As much as you try to answer, you’re incapable of doing so. His fingers digging inside you cut your words short with a broken moan. His pace fluctuates, pumping you slow at first to rapidly curling his fingers and then returning back to a pace that has you whimpering for more.
Your frustrated whining is music to his ears. He doesn’t feel regretful nor does he give in to your desperate pleas, it just causes him to drag his thumb over your clit until your legs nearly buckle.
But he pulls out suddenly, hand grabbing your hip, holding you in place while the other fondles lowering down his trousers and boxers with ease. He takes in his creation of your stinging ass like it's a piece of art work. Bruised, sensitive and flushed is what has him grinning from ear to ear.
In punishments like these, there's no use in him giving you any sort of warning. His oozing pre-cum tip kisses your pulsing folds before diving into you. Inch after inch, stretch after another agonising stretch, he has you pleading and even trying to pull yourself away.
You’d think that after being with him for three years that you would’ve adjusted to him by now. But no, hence why he’s more than willing to always talk you through it, hold you down gently so you wouldn't slip away and ease you into the pain.
But your new reality now crying, nails digging deep into the sofa where he doesn’t care to let you adjust. His hips slam into yours with punishing rhythm, the couch creaking beneath you both. Every thrust pushes you forward, pressing you into the cushions.
“This what you wanted, doll?” he growls behind you. “Me using you like this? Splittin’ you open until you can’t talk back?”
You try to speak, but it comes out as a whimper. Each time he slams into you, your tits reach the point of spilling out your bralette, bouncing at every motion.
He reaches forward, fists your hair, pulls your head back so your back arches for him.
“Speak. Up.”
You shake your head, defiant. “Mmph– shut up!”
He groans, hips snapping harder. “Stubborn little thing you are—shiit.”
The sound of skin against skin fills the room. Your body rocks with every thrust, pleasure winding tight in your belly.
“You gonna cum already?” he pants against your shoulder. “Of course you are. That’s why you’re always mouthing off. You want this. You want me like this.”
You nod, barely able to breathe.
“Well I ain't lettin’ you cum.”
“N-No! Wait–!”
To stop you from babbling any further, his hand that pops with veins wraps around your throat, pulling you back into his chest, still pounding into you, voice ragged and croaked. “See what you do to me?”
Even if you wanted to respond, he doesn’t give you an opportunity to do so. With one hand, he swiftly reaches for your face, clasping down hard to the point your lips smoosh to puffing out your plump lips. His lips devour yours, canine teeth grazing your lips and all.
Your breath becomes hitched, your mind hazy from the pounding he's giving you and the messy kiss you can’t deny from. As much as you’re upset with him, you can’t deny how good he is at making you feel, making you crumble for him every time and you prove his point more when your slick tongue swirls with his.
“I hate you.” You manage to pant out, your eyes meeting his devilish gaze.
“Yeah, yeah, you lil’ liar,” he breathes, biting your lower lip before kissing you again, harder this time. “If that’s the case then why’re takin’ me so well like this, huh?”
A structured response is replaced with a strangled cry, your orgasm hitting fast and violent. You clench around him, your body trembling uncontrollably. Your eyes flutter shut but reopen the moment you feel your aching body get pushed down further on the sofa by him.
He pulls out of you slowly, deliberately, like he knows how sensitive you are. You feel the wetness drip down your thighs, a filthy, shameful reminder of how thoroughly he just fucked you.
He doesn’t give you time to recover. Especially when he already told you not to cum the first time.
“Turn over.”
You blink, barely lifting your head. “Ryusei–”
“I said,” he growls, grabbing your hips. “Turn. Over.”
You obey, limbs heavy and trembling as you flip onto your back, your sopping pussy exposed just like your tits that have spilled out your bralette top long ago.
“Look at you,” he mutters, almost to himself. “One round and you’re already fucked dumb.”
You glare weakly, urging to snap back at him but you know damn well that it wouldn’t end well. It's like he could read your mind, already knowing you still wanted to defy him, his mouth twitches into a smirk.
“Still got attitude? Why am I not surprised?”
He grabs your thighs and yanks you down the couch until your hips are right on the edge, legs splayed open for him. You gasp, trying to sit up, but he presses a palm to your sternum and shoves you back down.
“Don’t even think about pissin’ me off more than you already have.”
Your breath hitches and that earns you a devilish grin.
“That’s what I thought.”
Without warning, he sinks to his knees between your legs. You barely have time to process it before his mouth is on your slick folds. You moan, hips trying to jerk up off the couch, but his arms wrap around your thighs and pin you in place. His tongue flicks over your clit in tight, merciless circles, then sucks hard until your head slams back into the cushion and your legs start to tremble all over again.
“F-Fuck–Ryusei–!”
He groans into you, the sound vibrating through your core. He lives for this, hearing you fall apart, knowing he’s the one doing it to you.
“Thaat’s right,” he growls, voice muffled as his nose nuzzles against your pelvis. “Say my damn name. Say it just like that.”
And you do. Over and over and he’s getting off to your own moans while his hand lingers down to his shaft to pump his throbbing cock.
“You gonna come again?” he murmurs, voice muffled against your soaked folds. “Bet you are. Bet you’ll soak my tongue like the desperate little thing you are.”
Your body’s already spiraling again, too fast and too soon. He flattens his tongue and drags it up and down, then sucks again, just enough pressure to make your legs spasm.
“I dare you to cum for a second time. Just see what happens,” he warns.
You choke on a sob. “Please–”
He pulls back, mouth shiny, breath ragged, eyes dark. Once again he invades your space, one leg over his broad shoulder, the other dangling off the sofa.
“I should just leave you like this,” his bruised mushroom tip repeatedly slaps your already bruised and sensitive tip, ripping whimpers and sniffles out of you. “Dripping and needy for me. Ruined all for me–“
“I-I just want you to prove I matter.”
With the dazed state that you’re in, your eyes flutter shut, you can’t see the softening gaze he's finally giving you. His fuschia eyes are no longer dark and instead replaced with warmth.
He sinks into you in one deep thrust, and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. But to your surprise, he’s actually giving you time to adjust, calloused palms grip your hips but it's firm, his nails no longer digging into your plush skin. He sets a slow yet deep rhythm, hips snapping against yours over and over.
“You matter. You’re everything. My woman. You matter so much.”
Every word he delivers to you earns you a peck against your bruised lips. You finally open your eyes and his gaze is steady on you. Glistening forehead, furrowed brows, a look of gentleness plastered all over his face.
His thrusts slow, grow deeper, more intense, hitting every spot that makes you shudder. His hand slides between your legs again, finding your clit with practiced skill and that has you moaning his name for an nth time, fingers clutching at him to pull him closer.
You can’t think straight, unable to think of why his demeanour has suddenly changed but it doesn’t matter now. Not when he has you trembling under him, kissing and nibbling the shell of your ear as he stretches you over your limits.
“Cum for me,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder. “C’mon doll, cum with me. Now.”
You’re already there.
You unravel around him with a cry, trembling beneath the force of it and seconds later, with a low growl, he follows. He presses deep and stills, breath heavy against your neck.
“Happy fuckin’ anniversary.” He finally grunts, his voice breaking the silence as his thick cum buries deep inside of you, making sure not a drop spills out of you.
He’s expecting a snappy comeback from you, maybe even a ‘there’s nothing happy about this anniversary’. But the energy is gone from you. You’ve already passed out, mumbling something incoherent in your sleep that has him chuckling at you.
“Looks like I’ll have to do it tomorrow.”
Whatever that meant would soon be revealed by the time you finally awake from your sore slumber. The first thing you notice when you wake up is the soft ache between your thighs.
The second is that you’re not on the sofa anymore.
You’re warm, tucked beneath clean sheets, lying in your shared bed, wearing a new lingerie set where the shoulder strap is falling slightly off your shoulder. His scent lingers in the fabric, a heady mix of expensive cologne and something undeniably him.
You blink slowly. The morning light spills in through the blinds. Your body feels heavy but clean, like you’ve been wiped down yet your skin still tingling from last night.
Even in your slumber, he still did your aftercare.
You stretch slightly, groaning from the soreness, when something catches your eye.
A dozen of red and pink petals, scattered across the bed that lead down the side of the mattress, forming a soft trail that snakes out of the room and into the hallway.
Your brows furrow, swinging your legs over the side, the cool floor kissing your bare feet as you stand. You step quietly out of the room, following the trail barefoot, heart tight in your chest. As you round the corner into the living room, you freeze.
There he is.
Shidou stands in the middle of the high ceiling apartment, freshly showered, shirt undone over his abs, tie hanging loose, hair brushed back for once but still a little tousled in the way only he can pull off.
There's a table set up behind him with croissants, fruit, two cups of coffee, even your favorite juice. The set up was most likely his idea but with how chaotic he is, he definitely had someone else set it up accordingly.
But that’s not what hits you hardest.
It’s the way he’s holding a ring box in one hand, nestled in his palm with care and ease. He looks up, and when your eyes meet, he smirks, not cocky this time but it’s soft. Nervous, even.
“Morning, baby,” he says. “Sleep alright?”
You don’t answer. You just stare at the box and he notices your reaction which makes him take a step closer, tone still laced with teasing confidence.
“So. Funny story… Last night wasn’t just supposed to be a party.”
You breathe in slowly. “Ryusei…”
“I wasn’t just dragging you to a party,” he murmurs. “It wasn’t about the cameras or the champagne. One of my sponsors helped me rent a private gallery space. I had your dress picked out, your favorite flowers sent there, even had Charles be the one to help with the playlist.”
Your breath hitches. “You… what?”
“I meant what I said last night… the day I get to show you off to everyone… what it means to be mine.”
“I… I ruined it,” you whisper, voice catching in your throat. “I threw a tantrum. I yelled at you. I didn’t trust you. I–” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “I don’t deserve this.”
His expression hardens, not in anger, but in certainty.
“Stop,” he says. “Right now.”
He walks up to you, tilts your chin up, his eyes locked on yours like he's trying to speak directly to your soul.
“You didn’t even know,” he reassures you even when you feel like you don’t deserve it, the pad of his thumb swiping away at the singular tear running down your flushed cheek. “So don't work yourself up over what happened last night, you hear me?”
Gradually, you melt into his touch, nuzzling your cheek further into his strong hand before he releases you from his hold.
“And anyways, we’re too locked in to be calling off the proposal.”
“Ryu–“
He drops to one knee. Just like that, with no hesitation and with no nerves like he means it. Down on the floor, looking up at you with tenderness only he can pull off. One hand popping open the ring box, the other reaching for yours.
“Be my wife,” he says simply.
"Even when you slam the phone down. Even when you try to feed me the portion size for a damn toddler… it’ll always be you I want.”
He smirks. “Just be the poor soul who has to deal with my shit forever.”
You laugh, tearful and breathless. “This is so unfair.”
“How so?”
“Because you make it impossible to stay mad at you.”
He smirks, cocking a brow. “Is that a yes? No take backs.”
You take a step forward, leaning down to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his.
“are you 100% sure this brand..err..dye is washable?”
“of course babe! I use this brand every time! works like a chaaarrrmmm!”
“alright..I guess we can use this brand of dye then..”
strolling through the aisle of bazillions of colors and shades you fixate your eyes on a color
“We can do a good natural color..?”
you looked up at shidou to see his reaction..trying to guess his take on it
“oh cmonnn..! thats so boring! we came here so you can pop out!
he pouts before looking around and grabbing a box and lifting it in the air like a trophy
“purple! we can match!”
you raised a brow at the statement
“pink and purple isnt the same color..how are we matching?”
“yea but it’s canon pink and purple are dating. we’ve known this since daycare age..you never looked at the colors and assumed they were lesbian together or something?”
you scoffed grabbing the box from his hands without even thinking about processing what he just said
“how do you even know it’s purple? it doesn’t have to color on it presented on it or anything…”
he points at the name of the dye
“has grape in the name! grapes are purple! trust me this will totally rock with your personality!”
you give him a skeptical look..of unsureness
he sighs then his signature smirk grows on his face
“here, if it turns out bad you have permission to give me a purple bruise.”
“as in a punch?”
“well—“
you grab the box and make your way towards the front in a heartbeat yelling out behind you
“deal!”
NOW..
“see this is why I told you to get gloves! now look!”
“calm down..it’ll fade off soon! washable always does that!”
you sigh, regretting even trusting shidou of all people to do your hair
the timer on your phone goes off and he reaches to turn it off
but you swat his hand away
“no you have dye on your hands, it’s gonna get on my phone babe.”
he shrugged and hands you the blindfold
“okay! put the this on! this is gonna be a surprise~!”
you reach for the black blindfold..giving him a glare before putting it on struggling to tie it
“so obedient, we’ll get through this in no time!”
the texture of unwrapping and different temperatures of water on your scalp felt nice to say the least. made you more calmer. and the way his hands worked was actually unbelievable
“hm..”
anddd you spoke too soon
you perk up
“what? whats the matter?”
“nothing nothing! just hm’ing..”
“oh okay…dont play around in my hair shidou..”
he leans you forward brushing and blow drying your hair occasionally blowing some in your face on purpose
maybe this wasnt so bad..shidou wasnt as bad either. maybe he was actually more trustworthy than people made him out to be.
or because you were his baby and you got a side others dont get to see
you never know! but you could definitely get used to this
“ok. so..it’s great! very..but it seems we forgot something..”
you raise a brow trying to un-do the blindfold
“wait! wait! you just have to understand me when you see! I just made a simple mistake! if you think about it..it’s the box’s fault!”
