꒰ r. shidou ꒱ : the devil eats good. shidou eats better.
“I’ll eat you out right here on the turf, princess.”
You blinked up at him, still catching your breath from practice you had joined for fun, your legs aching and skin slick with heat. His voice was smug, dragging through you like syrup.
The way he grinned sharp, teasing, wild? You should’ve run. Of course you didn’t. Stupid, stupid girl. Didn’t you know not to play games with the pink devil?
You stayed right in the middle of the pitch while the REST of the players filtered out, sweaty and exhausted, too focused on water bottles and cooldowns to notice the wolf in cleats circling you. By the time the last person disappeared through the gate, shidou was already walking toward you again. His tongue poked at his cheek, that wild look in his eye growing darker by the second.
You opened your mouth to say something. Not that he’d let you. Like an animal he tackled you down onto the turf. The air whooshed from your lungs.
There was no finesse as he pulled your shorts down, revealing the pink undies you definitively hadn’t chosen because of him. Shidou saw that otherwise.
“Fuck,” he muttered hotly as he looked down at you, “You wore this on purpose. You wanted me crazy.”
You shrieked as he spread your legs impossibly wide before pushing them up to your chest. Your panties clung to dear life against your lips.
Not that they’d stay there for long as he pushed them aside. You weren’t safe. Not from the cool air that hit your most sensitive area, nor from the crazed look in his eyes.
Another embarrassing noise escaped you as he bit your thighs. He was marking you, daring to mark you.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he groaned. “Fuck baby. All miiine.”
That man had a point to prove as he went down on you. His mouth was hot, starving and so messy. With his tongue he worked tight circles around your clit before he dipped longer. He was licking into your slit, tongue-fucking it like this was the winning goal.
He groaned when you moaned. He grinned when you gasped. He giggled when your feet started kicking.
When you tried to put your legs down from being too overwhelmed he downright growled. His hands shoot out to press your legs back to your chest.
“Don’t fuckin’ run from it,” he panted. “You made me like this. Now take it.”
His tongue was relentless. You were speechless.
Your legs shook and your back arched off the ground. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, but louder still was the obscene sound of his mouth working between your thighs, slurping and sucking and moaning like he was high on you.
He glanced up, eyes gleaming. “Say it louder.”
You tried. You were babbling now. Please, yes, more, and he was eating it up. Literally and figuratively. He held you steady as your thighs trembled.
“Tell me who’s makin’ you cum,” he muttered, voice muffled against your clit.
You could barely think. “Thirteen—fuck—thirteen!”
Your orgasm crashed into you like a train, white-hot, relentless. You writhed under him, moaning his number into the sky as your whole body jolted, soaked, ruined.
And shidou, that menace of a man, kept going until you were twitching, didn’t pull away until your legs finally dropped limp on either side of his head, chest heaving, body spent.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sat up between your thighs and grinned like he’d just won the world cup. “Tastes like victory.”
