#ryuji smut

The only thing that would satisfy Ryūji was the blood of Eighth’s leader on his hands, but having the man’s lover crushed underneath him in the back of his car was almost enough to make him reconsider.

Almost.

“Ryūji! Slow down, slow down— it’s too much!”

He could see how even someone like Wang was charmed by you; you were just so fucking perfect.

It was one thing to see you at the park, waiting so patiently for your shitty boyfriend to pick you up, but when he had you pinned underneath him and begging him to slow down, he understood exactly what about you made even a person like Wang so enamoured by you.

The look in your tear-filled eyes as you clawed at his back went straight down south, where you practically locked him in place with your legs coiled tightly around his hips. His ilia dug straight into your thighs, the sheer impact forcing your stiff limbs apart to accommodate to his size.

You were literally perfect. And you weren’t his, which made it just that much more satisfying.

He could feel his armed Humvee rocking under your combined weight, the sound of skin on skin mingling with your shallow breaths and hiccupping whines, reverberating through the humid space.

As you fluttered around his girth, he caught a soft vibration from the pocket of your coat, discarded somewhere on the car’s floor from when you climbed into the backseat with little regard for the whereabouts of your clothes.

Though you were too far gone to catch it, he managed to answer the call, a renewed sense of anticipation shooting through his body as he read the four-stroked caller ID, framed in hearts: Wang.

“Where the hell are you? You said you were here over an hour ago.”

At the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you should’ve froze. You should’ve stopped what you were doing. But you couldn’t hear him, you couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t feel anything. You felt nothing but the bulge in your stomach at that moment.

“Sorry, they’re busy right now. Who is this?”

Even he could practically hear the smug look on his face. He didn’t doubt that Wang could too.

“Who the hell is this?”

He didn’t respond. The fact that he couldn’t even recognise his voice soured his mood. Instead, he held the phone to your shaking, panting form, putting the phone on speaker.

No one said a thing, both just listening to the soft breaths that Ryuuji pushed out of your body forcefully. There was long silence, then the sound of something breaking.

“—kill that bastard—” the line crackled with the chaos on the other end, as if even the connection was afraid of your boyfriend, “—find them!”

The line went dead just as you tensed around Ryuuji, back arching off of the soaked seats while you dug your nails into his back, sucking in a pitchy gasp.

He didn’t think you’d be going back to Wang any time soon.