#yasu x reader

You know, the type of man who’s scrawny, awkward and with a small ribcage (not from working out, genetics, you cuss). The one who doesn't put emphasis on his clothing, wearing whichever clean tshirt he can find, a pile of dirty clothes accumulating in his bedroom. The one who has water bottles, take out bags, cigarettes or weed papers and a nasty sink in his apartment. The one who has messy hair, tired eyes and cannot socialize for the life of him. The one who scratches his head, looks down awkwardly as he crosses his legs and sits weirdly on a chair. The type to never initiate a first move, friendship.. let’s not even talk about sex. There’s something about these men, you wouldn't call it a fetish, no, you don’t judge people by body types, that’s weird. It’s just that you notice a pattern here. Cause everytime you find these traits, you kind of guess their personality too. And maybe sometimes..you’re wrong.

They’re the same ones that will bend you in half, once they get the slightest hint you might be into them. The type to inexplicably know how to work their fingers in your little cunt, hell, you’d think they were pros in another life, the mastery in pace, roughness and multitasking is crazy here. These guys have you wet your panties like you can’t. By yourself. Alone. They kiss you while they’re at it too, don’t think they can’t do both. They kiss softly, open mouthed but desperately at the same time, kind of like they don’t want you to be able to breathe anymore. And… you can’t, but they don’t stop until you push their shoulders back, breathing through your nose isn't enough.

They’re the type to stay silent when you suck them off, concentrated and focused on your performance. They might bite their lips and hum softly, you’d think they don’t even like it even when you’re gagging down their whole length (palm included, as they’re large and girthy). Your throat aches and you haven’t even stopped the act and here they are silent and unappreciative, you might think. Well, you’re wrong. They appreciate it more than they let on. Do you know what it took for them to master this composure? Endless nights of jerking off just to the sight of your pretty pussy, cumming and cumming until they could build up some endurance. Mind you, they are talented but lack in the sexual experience department. Porn doesn’t get them off, they think it’s performative and staged, can’t get hard watching some poor woman fake moan and look at the camera, they think it’s embarrassing. No, instead they can easily picture you, with your legs spread and your pretty cunt glistening — anticipating their touch. Be it their skilled, slender fingers, their drooling mouth (yes, they drool inside) or their throbbing cock, they can’t get enough of your widened eyes and parted mouth and you can't stop silently begging just for a touch. And they cum, they aren’t too loud even when alone so imagine how much they try to stifle their moans when with you. You may have started deepthroating them, but their cock jerked the moment you ran your tongue down their shaft once, didn’t you notice it? They take it, you didn’t. They are close to cumming, they bite their tongue and can feel the metallic taste of blood their sinking teeth left, shit, they wouldn’t be able to taste you properly later on; they think and cuss instead of thinking the trouble they'll have swallowing down food. 

They quietly push you off, they really want to cum but these men are selfless. They don’t want to put anyone's pleasure above yours so they throw you on the bed. That’s where you were wrong too. You see them, a skeleton in clothes and think ‘’damn, this guy really is a loser’’..well, if he is, then he certainly is a strong one, these dudes have muscles you can’t even see and the rage that fuels them, makes up for it. They want to lick up a strip from your hole trickling down your left thigh, shit, they're so tempted, they might come on the mattress for all they care but their cock throbs when you ask them to fuck you instead.. if that's what you want, who are they to say no?

Their lanky chest presses against you, you can feel the pressure from their protruding bones on your skin, as they sigh, their sticky slit coming in contact with your also wet (soaked) entrance. They might just sigh but their brain is fighting a hard battle right now, to not cum just by the friction and the mess of fluids. Once you beg repeatedly (‘’please—baby, please!’’) and they can’t take it anymore, they awkwardly push the length past your folds, it slams in you violently as their sternum clashes onto you. You moan, it feels heavenly, a remarkable girth that stuffs you to the brim. They don't bottom out yet, you think fuck it, there's more? Oh sure, there is. They will shyly push more in, inch after inch, these men are NOT talkative but will make sure you are ok for good measure, wouldn't want you fainting or in pain due to their stupid cock. Little do they know, you want more and fast, but that's ok, whatever you order, they deliver. You can't tell, if they do it with skill or instinct but the thrusts are calculated and timed and they bring you close to an intense orgasm, they know it — they are observers, noticing the type and volume of moans that exit your mouth each time, that is why a slender pad of their finger is brought against your clit. They know how to hover and tilt their hips inside you simultaneously as they tease you. ‘’B–baby, oh my god.. please’’ you mewl, you shut your eyes and they’re close too. You just squeeze too damn much, whether you know it or not (they never tell you that they'd sell their soul to feel like this every day). Soon enough you're cumming, screaming loudly, only.. it's real with you, your body can’t lie and so can’t your eyes, glossy and ready to spill teardrops. These men will not be vocal (or at least they'll try not to be) but this is their breaking point, it's too much — you're too much and they finally whimper, not loud but just enough for you to hear as they let a big load inside you. They’re a deprived and awkward mess, that doesn't believe you would even bat them an eye, when you met them. Well, maybe it's their time to re-evaluate you.

—

(wrote this with surprise surprise.. Shiggy in mind but it suits others too)

Ren wears your perfume when he’s away for work, whether he’s on stage or just leaving to do a photo shoot overseas. Any perfume or oils you use are now in rotation until he gets back. When he’s asked about his choice of scent the answer is the same no matter who’s asking, be it a fan, interview, or his band mates. “It smells like home”

Osaki Nana deeply cherishes the time you spend together, but she doesn’t know how to tell you. How does she tell you that she’s counting down the seconds til she’s in your arms again without sounding so…needy? Wouldn’t that be off putting, knowing that she’s constantly thinking of your physical presence and that feeling that comes only when you’re around?

You already guessed that Nobu’s cheesy was using your relationship as inspiration for lyrics sometimes. You’ve heard the songs he wrote for your ears alone. Have you found the scrapbook? He takes plenty of pictures when the two of you are together, but his favorite ones are added to a scrapbook that he’s been working on. It’s clear he poured his heart and soul into it because there’s glitter, so many stickers, cute little poems next to the photos, and more. While he isn’t exactly embarrassed, Nobu is a little shy about it seeing that you might think it’s a bit much.

Bright red and white lights against an obsidian backdrop, loud, blasting rock music, the coolest alt styles you've ever seen, millions of piercings and tattooed, Nana's cool, husky vocals, her band, her past, her friend and roommate who was also named Nana (apparently) next to you, and moshes that weren't too aggressive but still frenzied for the band. This was your average weekend, attending a loud show, slightly out of your element (or maybe completely in your element, what do I know about the kinds of scenes you run?)—supporting your boyfriend, the drummer for Blast and the guy who joked that he'd be your lawyer if you went to jail, Yasu.

When the band had played their set, you were always one of the first at the side of the venue's stage, bright-eyed and excited to see Yasu post-show. He was always so happy; his gaze searched for you throughout all of his shows, and when he saw you, he kept his eye on you the entire time. Waiting for the show to go on, the music to end, the crowd to part—he always made sure the security or managers for their gigs knew your face, that you weren't to be trifled with and that you were allowed backstage with him and the band. He'd always get straight up from the drums and pull you up, into his arms, then kiss you all over while you laughed and showered him praise.

"Su! You were great, you looked so good—"

"Yeah, to hell with what I did, gorgeous. You were what kept me energized the entire time." He grinned against your neck when you wrapped your arms around him and allowed him to spin you around, your feet dangling above the ground. "So glad my best girl got to see me rock. Which song was your favorite, huh? C'mon, we're going to clean up the equipment and then go to a bar. Want you on my arm the entire time."

You two met through Nana Osaki and Nana Komatsu, believe it or not. You were one of the Nana's friends, and at a drunken, loud housewarming party alongside many other people you came to know (Junko, Nobu, Shoji, Kyosuke), you met Yasu. The only one anywhere near sober, smoking near an open window, you two shared a cigarette and a long conversation about life, dreams, hopes, basically everything and anything you could think to talk about. You two ended up talking for the rest of the party, and he drove you home after everyone else passed out from the booze and lack of music (the stereo had died a while ago, and nobody noticed).

You'd met a guy in the city, and he seemed perfect. Reliable, handsome, kind, cultured, a rockstar, obsessed with you. And he had passions—he'd told you about his past, about how his parents died in an accident, his friendship with his bandmates and the cryptid Ren. Yasu loved you, he told you early on. It seemed you two were meant to be.

Whatever you were doing in Tokyo, though, kept you there, and he had his commitments in other places while training to be a lawyer. Before Yasu moved to the city (to both be with you and pursue a different life from being a lawyer), it was hard being long distance with you. Though he wasn't too far away, and it was more of a medium distance dynamic, you two hated having to schedule time together and make trips out of home to do anything.

Of course Yasu frequently visited Nana and Hachi, and he used those visits as an excuse to come and see you. And eventually he stopped searching for excuses and just came to see you. He was on the bullet train at the end of every week practically, bag packed to spend the weekend with you, no shame in the world at all the money he was flushing down the drain on tickets and travel expenses.

Evidently he'd foregone becoming a lawyer at some point—stuck it to the man metaphorically—and moved to Tokyo permanently. You wanted him to move in with you, but both of you knew your box of an apartment wasn't enough to subsist two people—so you bought a bigger place together and plotted it out with each other like Nana and Hachi were doing.

You attended band practice with Su, sat and listened while chatting with Hachi. Nobu tried to constantly make you laugh with stupid jokes and little stunts; Shin let you pluck a few strings off his bass once in a while, and Nana O. made an effort to include you in everything the band did. And between work and stabilizing your young adult life, it seemed that everything was just... perfect. Perfect, peaceful, happy with your boyfriend, who made sure to contribute to your life together with a day job (of course while making sure his passion for the band didn't diminish).

Though, this wasn't to say there weren't bumps in your relationship. Like when you learned about Yasu's admittance to having feelings for Nana at some time in the past. Of course he was with you, and she was with Ren then, but to learn about that... it hurt.

The argument you had over it wasn't instantaneous. You told Yasu that it was fine, it was in the past and everyone had feelings, romantic or not—it was natural. Natural, right?

It went without saying that you internalized some things and didn't express your insecurity until everything got to be too much—and you broke down into tears one night after Yasu came home particularly moody after work. You can still recall that night vividly.

"You loved her! You loved her, and you still love her, don't her? You can't help it—"

You cried, unable to stop the tears from flowing. You moved back when Yasu tried to touch your face, and you hated the hurt that flashed over your boyfriend's face.

"I did love her," Yasu said, trying to be the calm and collected one, though you could see his resolve cracking with how his shoulders shook. "And I do still love her, but I don't want to pursue something romantic. God no. I have you. I've had you, haven't I? There's nothing that can take me away from you, and, by god, I hope nothing that can take you from me. I don't want to be with Nana, baby—"

"You're in a band with her. You see her almost every day!"

"I come home to you. I love you. I look at rings for you!"

"What did you say?"

Safe to say, you two made up. In more ways than one. He apologized to you over and over for not being more reassuring, for not looking past the surface, and you apologized for being irrational and letting things build up—and you two were definitely healed by the words you shared. However, on that occasion, and others where you two fought or simply just needed to do something else than talk, Yasu expressed his feelings in another manner.

"Eyes on me, angel."

Your back was flush against his chest. Yasu had sat down on the couch after a stressful day, slightly pissed at you, mostly pissed at work and the utter stupidity people could encompass, and sat you on his lap to calm himself.

He was two fingers deep in your pussy, thumb circling your clit in a vicious, slow movement. Not giving you enough, but giving himself enough to appease himself by watching your body squirm, your face contort in disappointment and pleasure. He'd already given you one orgasm—now he was just toying with you until he decided what to do with you next.

i write for...

honjo ren / ichinose takumi / komatsu nana / layla ‘reira’ serizawa / osaki nana / shinichi okazaki / takagi yasushi / terashima nobuo

Profiles & Studies.

okazaki shinichi (upcoming)

honjo ren (upcoming)

Headcanons.

Ficlets.

Fanfictions.

[working title demolition lovers - okazaki shinichi] (upcoming)

ao3 / wattpad .

Betraying him was the worst mistake of your life.

He was the perfect man in all aspects, the type of man that anyone would kill to have... and yet, you lost him. All because of one stupid decision you made after a petty argument and a bottle of wine.

It was years ago, yet you had never been sober enough to regret it until tonight. Maybe you hadn't been drinking at each and every moment of every day for the past two years, but in the frenzy of your hedonistic life, it felt like you had.

The weight of sobriety hit you like a brick that night in the doctor's office. The realisation that you would never be able to return to your old life felt like icy claws on your throat.

With every question she asked, the knot in your stomach twisted another loop. Without even knowing it, she was forcing you to see the gravity of your situation. To grasp the way your fate's strings unravelled at once.

'Any family nearby?' No. 'A significant other?' No. 'A stable source of income?' No.

And the list went on, with each question draining you of the satisfaction that you had built for your life throughout the years.

You didn't need anyone, really, but the thought of something going wrong again and leaving you even worse off... it scared you, as much as you hated to admit it.

It made you think seriously. What did you want to do for the rest of your life? Continuing as you did now would only deteriorate your health and, quite honestly, you weren't sure you would enjoy it after everything.

Did you even want to settle down, though? Getting married and having a family... it would be a big decision to make. One you couldn't commit to, especially so soon.

And so, you went to the only person you could count on...

"Why are you calling me?"

Your ex-boyfriend, who you cheated on two years ago.

"Yasu... can we talk?"

You couldn't lie. It was entirely your fault. He was actively trying to solve the problem, but your pettiness overshadowed your reason, and you just... threw it all away. You knew it was your fault, but you couldn't find yourself invested enough to care. At least, not until now.

The street felt dark despite the lights illuminating your path, and the chill in the breeze felt bitingly cold against your bare arms.

Still, Yasushi seemed perfectly fine, a Black Stone American Cherry flavoured cigarette perched between his lips. He used to bore you with how constant he was, but now, it brought a strange sense of comfort amidst all the anxiety.

"I..." You swallowed as you broke the tense silence, stuffing your cold hands into your pockets. "I'm sorry."

He took a deep drag, smoke billowing past his head as he walked, a pensive crease just above his sunglasses as he repeated you.

"You're sorry."

"I know it's late, but... I'm really sorry. I... wasn't mature enough for a relationship, and I just..." You continued uneasily. "I cheated on you, and I blamed it on you, even if it was only me being petty."

He responded after a moment, considering your words. "I'm glad you apologised. But it's been two years. Why now?"

"I've been thinking more about my choices recently. Reflecting on myself." You crossed your freezing arms. "I don't think I can keep doing this... but I don't know where to go from here, Yasu..."

You could tell that your tearful voice struck a chord in him, his shoulders tensing under his suit. His mind was racing at a mile a minute, no doubt, the gears turning as he weighed each option.

"What are you asking?" He finally asked.

"I want to get back together." You swallowed, looking at him head-on. "I'll put in the work to rebuild our — your trust. I'm not expecting you to say yes, but I can't give up without trying."

"Why the sudden change?" He sighed, smoke curling around his lip. "You can't expect me to believe this just came out of nowhere. You're in trouble, aren't you?"

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat. You were afraid you would cry if you attempted to speak.

"You can tell me." He gingerly took your hand, warmth spreading down your blue fingers. "I'll take care of it."

And that broke you. Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, cooling in the night air as they rolled past your skin and dropped to the floor. You hiccupped and sobbed into the rigid fabric of his suit, the guilt and the thankfulness roiling into a mess in your pounding head.

You tried to explain, but the tears had gone and sewn your mouth shut. The only sounds you could let out were broken sobs or shuddering breaths. But it was okay with him. He didn't need an explanation, even if he deserved one. That was just how he was. Ever considerate Yasu, who always put others before himself. Not like selfish, selfish you.

"Hey," he swiped away your tears with a warm thumb, "we don't need to rush it. It's late. You should get some sleep."

You wanted to rush it. You needed to. "But—"

"This conversation isn't over. But I think this conversation is better suited for the daytime..."

"It can't!" You insisted, stumbling over your warbling words. "It can't wait, Yasu... Yasu..."

"I really don't think—"

"Yasushi, I'm sick!" You sobbed, fingers locking around his head to bring his gaze to yours. "Don't you understand?! I'm sick, Yasushi! Listen to me, damn it! I can't— I—I don't—!"

Your words left you in a series of sobs, the admission making your knees buckle underneath you. He caught you before you fell, but ultimately fell with you, the revelation shaking him as well, no doubt.

He didn't say anything, out of surprise or consideration, you weren't sure, but you were thankful for it. The way he cradled you made you want to stay there forever, hidden away from the rest of the world... from all your problems.

Finally, the small voice that nagged in the back of your mind wormed itself past your lips:

"Will you take care of me, Yasu? Even after everything?"

He was silent for a moment.

"I don't know."