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kyovtani · 4 years

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𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 – 𝒊𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒛𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆

࿏ pairing: iwaizumi hajime x chubby female reader ࿏ genre: fluff, smut, angst; best friends to lovers!AU ࿏ word count: 11.6k (at this point i have no explanation, im sorry) ࿏ warnings: swearing, mentions of body image issues, self doubts, anxiety, bullying, fat shaming; as well as violence and blood (iwa gets into a fight mwah); ddlg (daddy dom-little girl) dynamics, soft dom!iwa, body worship, praising, sugarcoated degradation, spitting, choking, fingering, face riding, unprotected sex

࿏ Summary: After four years of trying to get over your stupid crush on your best friend, said male finally comes back home and all of a sudden all of those plans are thrown overboard...

Even though you‘ve known about it for so long now, you still feel your heart skip a beat when Matsukawa mentions his return to Japan and no matter how hard you try to, you can‘t help the way the disgusting mixture of anxiety, nervousness and excitement starts filling your veins.

After all it‘s been literal years since you‘ve last seen him.

Iwaizumi Hajime, former Seijoh Ace, now freshly majored athletic trainer, your best friend of ten years and — love of your life.

However, of course he doesn‘t know about the latter and as pathetic as it may sound, you‘re quite proud of yourself for hiding your feelings for him so well that he hasn‘t suspected anything in all these years the two of you have been friends.

Of course it‘s painful and basically nothing but literal torture to watch the guy you‘ve lost your heart to years ago, move on with his life thinking he‘s nothing but a friend to you, but you know you‘d always choose this pain over the one of rejection and shame.

Because after all you‘re not his type or what he looks for in a partner and you're very much aware of it.

And no matter how many times you daydream about a life as his girlfriend, you won’t ever forget about the fact that Iwaizumi Hajime, basically a literal athlete, would never date someone who looked like you.

Growing up on the bigger side, physically wise, has always been difficult and something you're struggling with to this day. You had always hoped for those extra pounds to disappear once you hit puberty, just like it had happened to all of your friends but those hopes were quickly destroyed when you still found yourself hiding from full length mirrors to avoid having to look at your own body in your third year of High School.

By the time you turned eighteen, you had tried every kind of diet in hopes of losing weight but all of them just ended with you losing motivation and every bit of your happiness and even though you still struggle with it in your mid-twenties, you‘ve come to terms with it.

This is who you are and despite taking literal decades to realize it, you‘ve slowly but surely started accepting it.

However, when it comes to relationships, you‘ve given up completely.

After years and years of being rejected, hidden, fat shamed and disrespected by men who hated their own attraction to bigger women, you stopped wasting your time and energy on dating. If you wanted to hear someone shame you for being big, you could just go home to your family or back in your memory to remember all those mean things the skinny girls in your school had thrown at you.

Or you could just look in the mirror and let your brain do the job after eating literally anything.

Just thinking about a guy like Iwaizumi looking at you in that way has you chuckling coldly and every time you imagine confessing to him, it ends with a broken heart on your side because your brain loves to keep things realistic and never once have you considered the possibility of him liking you back.

It‘s not that Iwaizumi, or any of the Seijoh Volleyball boys, have treated you badly or even slightly differently in the three years you were their manager, but after having to deal with fat shaming your whole life, it has become quite difficult for you to believe that anyone found you attractive at all.

Especially people like the widely known Seijoh third years who also happen to – still – be your closest friends.

And unfortunately, as glad as you are that Iwaizumi remains rather oblivious to your year-long crush on him, the other boys, including the professional athlete to be, Oikawa Tōru who’s currently living his best life in Argentina are pretty much aware of your feelings for the trainer.

So, just as usual whenever the topic of Iwaizumi Hajime enters the conversation between the other two, you’re met with pitying stares from Takahiro and a lot of teasing coming from Issei. But at this point you’ve gotten quite used to it and don’t mind the brunette’s words, whereas you still find yourself growing absolutely annoyed at the way Makki stared at you.

“Stop staring at me like that, Hiro!”, you hiss and roll your eyes, the pity in his face so evident, if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s mocking you.

“Just confess to him already!”, the strawberryblonde hisses, running one of his pale hands through his locks before he takes a big sip from his beer.

“Yeah, sure!”, you spit back, your words dripping in sarcasm and annoyance as you try to avoid your chest from growing even heavier at the thought of your best friend coming back after all those years.

“He broke up with that blondie months ago”, Matsukawa begins, his naturally sleepy gaze roaming your face attentively, “and he’s coming back to Japan. Now you really have no excuse left, Y/N”, and just as usual his words hit the right spot and all you can do is let out a shaky sigh before the intensity of your insecurities breaks down onto you like a huge wave.

“I‘m not his type, Mattsun”, you hiss, the bitter taste of reality coating the muscle of your tongue in the worst way possible, “and I‘ve had enough males reject and– or fat shame me. If I have to add Hajime to that list as well, it’s going to break me.”

You feel the two males’ soft gazes on you, whereas you can‘t help but focus on the napkin in between your fingers in hopes of distracting yourself from all those dark thoughts by nervously pulling at it.

“Iwa‘s not like that, Y/N”, Makki replies, brows furrowed in irritation; something you've grown quite used to seeing whenever the topic of your body image issues occured.

“Has he ever dated a big girl before, hm?”, you reply and look at him with arched brows and your lips pressed into a thin line. At the lack of response from the two men in front of you, you just lean back and nod.

“That‘s the point”, you take another deep, shaky breath; the tears threatening to spill from your glossy eyes at the thought of your pretty faced best friend and only men in your heart, “nobody likes women who look like me in that certain way, my loves. Every guy I‘ve been and slept with wanted to hide me or the relationship we had because they didn‘t want to be seen with a big girl.”

Suddenly you‘re hit with the memory of all those times you went home after any kind of intercourse with a male who had brought your hopes up with sugarcoated lies. Only to receive a harsh reality check when they asked you to not tell anyone about it, knowing it‘s simply because of the fact you aren‘t part of society‘s beauty standards.

“Y/N, we-”, “I‘m not talking about you two”, you‘re quick to interrupt Hanamaki, giving him a soft smile, “I know you don‘t care about it and sometimes I find myself wishing I would have fallen for one of you instead of the professional trainer”, you let out an empty, coldhearted chuckle before you finish your glass of wine in one go.

“I would fuck you without hesitation”, Mattsun shrugs, his plump lips stretching into a playful smirk and the tiny hint of seriousness in his gaze has you rolling your eyes with a soft scoff.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Issei”, Makki hisses and gives his best friend the same reaction as you.

“What? I‘m being serious! You know this isn‘t the first time I‘m offering this to you, pretty one”, the brunette replies and this time you can‘t help but chuckle softly at his words, showing him your appreciation for his ability to make such heavy topics vanish from the surface so easily.

“Thank you, Issei but that guy I met on Tinder has been ghosting me for two weeks after we fucked and that‘s why I‘ve had enough dick for now”, and just when you let your gaze roam over the brunette‘s handsome face, you watch Hanamaki‘s face brighten up suddenly and furrow your brows in confusion.

“Hearing Y/N talk about dick is definitely not what I was expecting to come back to but it‘s surely a surprise!”

And upon hearing the familiar voice of your best friend, you understand the reason behind the change in Makki’s expression.

You watch the other two get up from their chairs, approaching the freshly majored trainer with the biggest smiles plastered on their faces whereas you try your best to stay as calm as possible.

However, the simple thought of Iwaizumi coming back had already stressed you out and having him stand behind you in all his glory made the tightness in your chest and the struggle to take proper breaths intensify just like that.

After what feels like an eternity you finally get yourself to stand up as well, turning around literally convinced you‘re ready to see him again after all these years only for it to be the exact opposite.

Your heart skips a whole beat at the sight of Iwaizumi and for a quick second you feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen in your lungs.

“Hey”, he mumbles, his voice deep and raspy, something you‘re used to since the two of you have been talking regularly on the phone over the time yet hearing it in person again sends a jolt of hot arousal right into your core.

You nervously let your eyes roam his face; taking in the sight of his features, which have become even sharper during his absence. A soft sigh falls past your lips when you find the little scar right underneath his eyebrow which he had gotten back in middle school during one of his volleyball practices. The familiarity and feeling of security in the soft expression of his pretty, dark green eyes calms you down in an instant and by the time you feel your muscles ease up a bit, he‘s already approaching you with open arms.

Different than you’ve expected from yourself, you‘re quick to wrap your arms around his slim waist, taking him into your embrace with the intention of never letting him go again and at the feeling of his big hands on your body, you can‘t help but tear up a little.

You sniffle softly against the crook of his neck, Iwaizumi letting out a breathy chuckle at your sweet reaction as he caresses your back gently, subconsciously massaging your soft flesh to calm you down even more.

“Seems like someone missed me a lot more than she wanted to admit on the phone, hm?”, Iwa mumbles softly, placing the sweetest kiss on the top of your head as he holds you tight.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki let out a row of deep chuckles, partly laughing at your obvious reaction and partly because of their best friend‘s blatant oblivion.

“Shut up”, you reply with a sniff, taking in the light yet intense smell of his aftershave as well as the scent of detergent you had missed oh so much.

“Enough now, Y/N”, Mattsun huffs, “you can cuddle his stupid ass some other time, let‘s catch up with Mister America”, he adds and you know too well the tall brunette simply does it to stop you from falling even further into this dark hole you‘ve dug yourself; all those years ago.

Throughout the whole night, you stay rather quiet; listening to Iwaizumi‘s stories, more so to his voice but definitely his stories, too.

And every time he mentions some random girl he hooked up with or one of his ex girlfriends, you can literally feel the way he‘s avoiding your gaze; his eyes moving away from your face to focus on the guys as his voice turns a little less enthusiastic. You try your best not to read anything into it, knowing he‘s always been more hesitant towards you when it came to topics like this and in some way you find yourself appreciating it because it definitely helps to make the pain in your chest a little less heavy.

The atmosphere between the four of you remains calm; the familiarity something you‘ve always missed despite you and the other two boys spending just as much time together as you used to back in High School. Having Iwaizumi in your little circle again definitely has changed the air and it‘s in times like these you realize just how close you all actually are.

However, when Hanamaki and Matsukawa both stand up, cigarettes firmly placed between their plump lips, telling the two of you to give them a few minutes, you feel yourself slowly wandering into a state of anxiousness and slight panic.

It‘s not like you haven‘t talked to him alone during his stay in America, but the thought of having to look him in the eyes as you speak has always been something you‘ve struggled with.

Iwaizumi has this certain expression in his beautiful, dark green eyes, which makes it so much harder to not fall for him even more.

You don‘t know if it‘s the confidence and lack of insecurity or the mixture of softness and home which have the butterflies in your stomach go absolutely crazy.

Neither of you say anything for a good minute, your eyes glued to your phone screen which continuously lights up; Oikawa‘s name appearing several times.

You excuse yourself to give the professional athlete the responses he‘s waiting for, rolling your eyes at his way of telling you to shoot your shot at Iwa and “get that D”.

“Are you still talking to that one guy you told me about?”, Iwaizumi suddenly says, his eyes never once leaving yours and with a soft chuckle, you shake your head; enjoying the amount of protectiveness dripping from his words.

“We fucked and then he ghosted me”, you say casually, not realizing that it‘s not one of the other two boys you‘re talking to and with a soft gasp of embarrassment you try to mumble your way out of the situation.

“Iwa, I‘m-”, “Why the fuck would he even do that? Give me his fucking address so I can introduve his kneecaps to my baseball bat”, he‘s quick to interrupt you harshly, his tone filled with anger as his eyes gleam with wrath.

“It‘s okay”, you smile softly, placing your hand on his balled fists to calm him down again, “he told me not to tell anyone that we did it so his intentions have never been good. And on top of that – his dick game was so bad, I didn‘t even get to finish but had to take care of it myself, so it‘s definitely not worth the headache.”

You watch Iwaizumi‘s expression darken even further, his beautiful dark green eyes roaming your face with irritation oozing from his gaze and for a second you like to believe that there‘s even a hint of jealousy in between all those intense emotions but just as usual you find yourself shaking it off rather quickly.

“Why did he ask you not to tell anyone? What the fuck is even wrong with that guy?”, the brunette spits, downing the rest of his beer in one go.

You know why he‘s this angry and at this point you can’t even blame him anymore. Iwaizumi has never really understood why you put up with guys who treated you like absolute shit; continuously telling you how you deserved so much better and even though you wanted to agree, you simply couldn‘t. Because in your head, all those men who were ashamed of being with you yet still found their way to your door were exactly what was meant to be your life.

“Because being with a woman like me isn‘t anything he‘s proud of, Iwa”, you sigh, the words heavy and bitter on your tongue as you struggle to voice the hard reality.

“A woman like you?”, he replies and you see the genuine confusion on his handsome face, making his oblivion sweet almost.

“A big woman, Iwaizumi. Guys don‘t date big girls because we don‘t fit into society‘s beauty standards so being with us is something they‘re ashamed of because God forbid someone thinks they find us attractive“, you nervously play with the hem of your skirt, not having the courage to look into his face as those thing leave your lips, too embarrassed to meet his usually so welcoming and soft, but now wrath-filled gaze.

“That‘s bullshit”, Hajime is quick to spit back, hating the way you belittle yourself like that because of a random guy.

You smile, a soft scoff falling past your lips before you take a sip from the glass in front of you and even though you know you‘re going to regret those words, you still can‘t get yourself to stop from leaving you.

“Then why have you never dated a big girl, Haji?”, your voice is slightly shaky yet you remain the eye contact like a champion, never once averting your gaze from his handsome face even though the thrumming of your heart in your throat makes it so much more difficult to stay focused.

Iwaizumi seems taken aback; your words obviously hitting a place he wasn‘t expecting and that‘s when the feeling of guilt reaches its peak.

“I‘m not- It‘s not because I don‘t find them attractive I just- I uhm-”, the freshly majored professional trainer stumbles over his words like a two-year-old who just started learning how to speak and at the sight of a deep blush covering the apples of his cheeks as well as the tip of his nose and the whole of his neck, you let out a soft sigh.

“You don‘t have to explain yourself, Iwaizumi. I wasn‘t trying to accuse you of anything or offend you in any way, I promise. It’s just a topic I‘ve grown really tired of in the past few years”, you explain, making sure to choose your words carefully and when the tall male suddenly starts calming down again, you know you‘ve got him.

“Y/N, look-”, “Hey, Y/N the weak-dick-game guy is sitting at the bar with his ugly friends, just for your information”, Matsukawa‘s deep voice quickly cuts Iwaizumi off, his words sending shivers down your spine in the most disgusting way possible and with an almost painful roll of your eyes, you down the rest of your best friend‘s beer.

“Wait- What? Which one is it?”, Iwaizumi grunts, the calmness from a few seconds ago completely gone as you look at him with brows furrowed in slight irritation and annoyance.

“It doesn‘t matter, Iwa”, you say and wrap your fingers around his tattooed wrist, making him look into your eyes with another soft exhale, “he‘s not worth it. Just let it go.”

“Y/N, I said”, Iwaizumi is quick to place one of his big hands on your cheek, the dominance in his aura and the authority gleaming in his eyes has you gasping for air and just as usual you feel your panties growing wetter by the minute, “which one is it?”

His words don‘t leave room for protest; so strict and demanding, no matter how hard you try to think rationally, his naturally dominant persona has you submitting to him in a way no other guy has ever managed to.

“T-The one with the long, dark purple Hair”, you quickly reply, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight of Iwaizumi‘s anger and determination.

“Good girl”, he mumbles and pulls away, not even aware of the way his praise has your cunt throbbing like crazy and you absolutely hate him for it.

For a second you can‘t even get back to reality, the haze of arousal and longing for the tall male standing in front of you completely taking over your consciousness.

However, as soon as your brain registers Makki‘s panicked voice, you‘re quick to snap back and without missing another beat, you grab Iwaizumi‘s arm and look at him with pleading eyes.

“Please don‘t make a scene”, you whisper, knowing oh too well how much he loves to get himself in trouble because of his friends.

“He fucked then ghosted you all that while saying he doesn‘t want anyone to know he was with you because you're a big girl? That ugly fucker needs a fucking reality check because he can count himself hella fucking lucky to ever get a go with a woman as amazing and hot as you”, Iwaizumi hisses, his words filled with anger yet so, so sweet that without giving it another thought, you simply let go and try not to show him just how flustered he‘s gotten you.

“Are you guys about to kiss right now?”, Matsukawa suddenly says and with an almost audible roll of your eyes you lift your hand up, showing him your middle finger before you watch Iwaizumi‘s brows furrow even further with visible irritation.

“Then don‘t fight him”, you sigh, “please, Hajime, don‘t get yourself in trouble for a guy who‘s not worth it.”

“We‘ll see about it”, is all he says before he moves out of your tight grip, leaving you to stand at the table like that.

You feel your heart picking up its pace at the sight of the love of your life approaching your ex-hook up; several worst case scenarios popping up in your head within a few short seconds. And unfortunately every single one ends with Hajime throwing his fist into the guy‘s face because of his raging anger issues; something he‘s been trying to handle throughout his whole life.

“Makki, please do something”, you whimper and look at the strawberryblonde with glossy eyes; shivers running down your spine at the sudden sound of Hajime's deep voice cutting through the music of the bar.

“Not into you my fucking ass”, Takahiro hisses and follows Iwaizumi with quick steps, whereas Matsukawa remains next to you, watching the scene unfold with the fattest, shit eating grin on his face.

And while you‘re worried about Iwaizumi‘s well-being, said male can‘t even seem to think straight. The only thing he manages to focus on is the raging anger and hot wrath rushing through his veins at the thought of some random, small dicked guy treating you like dirt. With every step he takes, it seems to get worse and at some point the professional trainer is worried about his physical health because of the pace his heart is hammering against his rib cage with.

Iwaizumi has always struggled to understand why you put up with males who are literally unworthy of your presence yet every time he had asked, you simply shrugged and told him that this was how you were meant to be loved. Behind closed doors, hidden away from the world by people who literally worship the society‘s beauty standard.

And all of that when you‘ve had him right in front of you for all those years, ready to love and worship every bit of your body and soul.

Of course for you to let him love you he might have had to tell you about his feelings but as the years passed by, Iwaizumi slowly started to lose every bit of hope he had left. During his four year long absence you‘ve had your fair share of boyfriends and after the third one, the only choice he had left was to force himself to move on or else he would have lost his mind.

It‘s not like he never wanted to confess during High School but there was just something holding him back. The thought of losing you was heavy on his chest especially because Iwaizumi was very well aware you didn‘t feel the same. So for his own sake he chose not to tell you about his feelings for you; not even bearing the mental image of going through such rough times without you by his side.

He‘s already lost count of the amount of times he wanted to scream at you about how he would treat you just how you truly deserved to be treated and not like those douchebags who liked to use you for their own pleasure just to throw you away like a used tissue once they were done.

And after not being able to physically do anything for you because of the distance, he‘s finally got the chance to show you that no, those guys‘ behavior is not okay and yes, putting them back into their place is absolutely worth the headache.

“Hey”, the trainer hisses, coming to stand directly in front of the tall, purple haired guy, Rin Matsuoka, who‘s quick to harden his expression upon seeing the brunette.

“What can I help you with, big guy?”, Rin mumbles, placing his bottle of beer on the counter with his brows raised in curiosity.

Iwaizumi doesn‘t even waste another minute as he harshly grabs the collar of Rin‘sblack leather jacket, pulling him closer to himself. His friends rather quickly, yet Hanamaki and this time even Matsukawa are faster, coming to stand right next to each one of them with their arms firmly placed in front of their bodies to stop them from intervening.

“You‘re gonna listen to me and you‘re gonna listen good, did you fucking hear me?”, and just like a few minutes ago, Hajime‘s voice is cold and distant, not leaving room for discussion all while making sure to keep his tight grip.

The confusion and immense irritation is clearly visible on Rin‘s features; brows furrowed, jaw tensed and eyes gleaming with some kind of unnameable anger.

And the longer you watch the situation unfold, the heavier the anxiety in your system becomes and as you struggle to take proper breaths, you find yourself approaching your best friends; not wanting him to get his hands dirty on a guy like Matsuoka.

“What the-”, “Iwa please, he‘s not worth it..”, you say and wrap your fingers around his wrist, trying to find his gaze with desperate eyes only for him to gulp harshly and calmly tell you to take a step back.

“You?”, Rin spits, his dark eyes boring into your side as you try to ignore him; the amount of humiliation and shame washing over your body way too overwhelming to handle.

“Haji, let‘s just go, please”, you whisper, taking his face into your hands, his skin literally burning underneath your fingertips.

“No, Y/N, this stupid bastard has to understand that you can‘t just go and treat women like absolute dirt and get away with it”, Iwaizumi moves out of your soft touch, making Rin shift his attention back on you before the deep voice of one of his friends cuts through the tension.

“What the fuck is he talking about, Rin? Do you know her?”, the blonde says, his tone rather degrading when talking about you and at the way his eyes roam your body with a rather opposed expression show you exactly why that‘s the case.

“N-No, I don‘t!”, he‘s quick to defend himself, his eyes shifting to his friends with sheer panic filling the dark color and you feel your heart sink and the disgusting feeling of shame rushing through your veins.

“You‘re such a fucking piece of shit, Rin”, you hiss and swallow your tears; the taste bitter as the realization of being sometjing to be ashamed of hits you yet again.

“You definitely weren‘t acting like this when you fucked me”, you add and roll your eyes, taking a step back as the anger overcomes you and you basically give Iwaizumi a silent free pass to do whatever the hell he needs to, “or better said – when you tried to. It wasn‘t like I came with your weak dick game anyway so..”

“You fucked that fat bitch? Oh, yikes”, the other friend suddenly says, his words hitting you in the face like literal bricks and before you can even take your next breath or shift your eyes to the face the voice belongs to, the guy suddenly falls to the floor, holding his bloody nose.

You let out a shocked gasp, your eyes falling to Hanamaki who‘s busy shaking his hand, his knuckles already reddened and slightly bruised as he looks at you with a satisfied grin, “no one gets to call my best friend a bitch.”

“I was full on drunk and- do you really think I‘d fuck her sober?”, Rin tries to talk himself out of it and with a cold chuckle you throw your head back.

“How the fuck dare you talk to her like that”, is the last thing Iwaizumi spits before he throws his fist right into Rin‘s face with a deep grunt.

Another loud shriek escapes your lips and suddenly the anger and anxiety seem to leave your body and a huge wave of adrenaline hits you at the sight of your ex-hook up falling to the floor and Iwaizumi quickly moving with him.

For what feels like a whole hour but is probably nothing longer than a minute, you‘re literally frozen; your eyes the only moving part of your body as you watch your best friends break their knuckles on the jaws of literal strangers to them.

The following hour passes by in a blur. You can‘t really remember how or who separated them from those guys, or how you got yourself to call an uber and manage to get the four of you to your flat.

By the time the adrenaline stops making the blood rush in your ear, you‘re taking care of Matsukawa‘s wounds with shaky hands; the two others holding ice packs to their faces to ease the swelling of their bruises.

“Stop sighing so much”, Iwaizumi suddenly says, his dark eyes focusing the movements of your hands before he looks at you with a slightly softer expression, “we did what we had to do. And I‘m glad we did it. Those guys already looked so fucking punchable”, he explains and with a scolding scoff you press your lips to a thin line.

“You‘re back in Japan for how long? Two days? Yet already got yourself in trouble, a physical fight at that, Hajime. You‘re not your High School self anymore, start behaving that way, please”, you reply and hand Mattsun a plastic bag filled with ice cubes, softly caressing his bruised cheek before you stand up from your place on the floor.

“You got yourself one hell of a mouth while I was gone, huh?”, he replies cockily, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before he follows you into the bathroom.

You feel your body heating up at his words, the sexual tension laying underneath the surface slowly finding its way to you again and with a soft sigh, you ignore the brunette.

“How was I supposed to let him say all those things to you and not do anything, Y/N?”, Iwaizumi replies, a pouty word of gratitude leaving his lips when you take his big hand into yours and start cleaning up the blood on his bruised knuckles.

You try your best to stop your thoughts from wandering to sinful places yet images of those pretty, tattooed fingers wrapped around your throat and knuckle deep buried inside of your cunt have already filled your mind by the time you lower your gaze from his face.

“I‘m used to-”, “That does not make it okay, Y/N”, your best friend suddenly says, taking your chin in between his fingers to lift your head and look at you with those beautiful, dark green eyes.

“You deserve so, so much better and I‘m glad I can finally tell you this in person after all those years. Please stop letting douches like him take advantage of you”, he sighs, taking your hands into his and pulling you a little bit closer to himself.

“It‘s that or Matsukawa‘s cock and I‘d rather have a stranger emotionally pain me than my best friend, so-”, “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”, Iwaizumi interrupts you harshly, your words obviously irritating him.

“After my last boyfriend dumped me a year ago I‘ve only had casual flings because I got tired of using my hand to get off and Matsukawa offered to take care of it instead. But then again, it‘s just a lot less complicated with a stranger than it is with your best friend, that‘s why I‘m putting up with shit like this”, you explain to him and walk back into the living room where Mattsun and Makki are currently busy with your leftover take out from the previous night.

“So if it wasn‘t for that, you‘d let him fuck you?”, Iwaizumi‘s tone has turned cold again, the softness gone and replaced by something a little thicker and more intense than anger. And when you turn around to look at him, you see literal jealousy gleaming in the green color surrounding his iris, basically leaving you speechless.

“Why do you even care, Iwa?”, you reply, dramatically throwing your hands into the air as his tensed demeanor sends you in some kind of haze of irritation.

“Answer my fucking question, Y/N”, is all you get in response; the brunette closing the distance between the two of you with a few small steps and it‘s the lack of space between your faces that has you realizing just how unevenly he‘s breathing.

Your heart starts slamming against your rib cage with rather brutal pace, your head spinning from the sudden adrenaline shooting through your body and on top of all of it you feel your cunt clenching around nothing like crazy as Iwaizumi’s heavy scent fills your nose.

“Yes”, you say and feel your voice breaking, “yes, I would fuck Matsukawa because why not? Hm, Iwaizumi? There‘s nothing else stopping me from it other than-”, “You can‘t and won‘t fuck him”, he suddenly interrupts your outburst, his expression as dark as ever as he softly pushes you against wall.

“I think this is the moment where we‘re supposed to leave”, Makki mumbles, pulling Mattsun from the couch before they gather their things and leave the two of you to yourself.

As the silence surrounds the two of you, the tension grows even thicker, heavier, more present than before and with every breath you take you feel yourself growing more and more aroused.

“And why is that, hm? I can and will fuck whoever I want”, you spit back, trying so hard ot not let the arousal get to your head yet the disgusting urge to submit to Iwaizumi‘s naturally dominant personality slowly starts overwhelming you.

Hajime chuckles deeply, his eyes lazily roaming your face, pressing his strong body even further against yours as your head starts spinning more and more with every second passing by.

“Iwa…”, you whimper softly, throwing your head back and harshly digging gripping the soft fabric of his shirt; the close contact makes you a lot more nervous than before.

He slowly takes a deep breath before he bends down to let his nose graze your jawline, and eventually letting his mouth find its way to your ear.

“Because no one can fuck you like I can, pretty one”, Iwaizumi whispers, his voice a whole octave deeper than just a few seconds before and you hate the way every single one of his words sends a single, hot jolt of arousal right into your core.

“And”, you hear him inhale sharply, his hands finding their way to your hips, groping the soft flesh firmly in his palms before he takes a short break and then pulls away to look at you again, “no one can love you like I can.”

At the sound of those words, your eyes snap open within a second your heart skips a literal beat.

“W-What?”, you whisper, your throat completely dried up, your head desperately trying to process what he’s just said and just as your body is about to fall into some kind of haze, you feel yourself drowning in a wave of anxiety at the thought of having misheard him.

“I love you, Y/N”, Iwaizumi says just when those thoughts are about to take over you.

“Ha-Hajime…”, you mumble; your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears pricker at the corners of your eyes, the first few finding their way down your cheek in an instant.

A few seconds of silence pass in which you two just look at each other, Iwaizumi’s pupils blown out, cheeks tinted in the deepest shade of red and plump lips parted as he also tries to understand what just happened.

After all these years of imagining what it might be like to hear these kind of words from the love of your life, it’s finally become reality and the longer you look at him, the lighter the weight on your chest becomes.

“I’m sorry if I ruined our friendship with this but I just – couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. When I was in America I had promised myself to confess as soon as possible when I’m back so here I am. Those men don’t deserve you. Neither do I but I would have hated myself forever if I didn’t at least try. So”, he finishes his sudden explanation with another deep exhale before he takes a step back, his glossy eyes wandering from yours down to the floor, “thank you for everything and please take care.”

And fortunately your body acts a lot faster than your mind because while you still try to process his soft, sweet words – the words you’ve been dying to hear for so, so long – you find yourself tightening your grip on his shirt and pulling him back into you with a soft sob.

“I love you, too”, you whisper against his lips, pressing your forehead against his as your eyes flutter shut at the overwhelming warmth coming from his body.

“Fuck, baby”, Iwaizumi chuckles breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your body and burying his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m one lucky bastard, aren’t I?”

You smile brightly at his genuine and soft words, the feeling of coming home – a place you’ve longed for literal years – slowly breaks down onto you in the form of waves and for the first time in a really long time, you don’t mind being overwhelmed like that.

“So that means that you’re mine now?”, Iwaizumi whispers, pulling away and taking your face into his big hands, the smell of blood grazing your nose yet easily gets overshadowed by the way he’s looking at you as if you were holding the whole world in your hands.

You nod and move further into his touch, enjoying the feeling of being so safe and secure in one’s hands after not even feeling comfortable with anyone in years.

“T-Thank you for loving me, Iwa”, you gulp harshly, looking at him with teary eyes at the memory of all those who had managed to break your heart in the past years.

“No, baby”, he sighs, pressing the softest kiss right onto your lips, “thank you for letting me love you. When I say you’re literally everything I’ve ever dreamed of, I’m not even exaggerating because that’s what you are to me. A dream come true”, those are the last words Hajime mumbles before he pulls you into a proper kiss; not giving you the opportunity to reply.

The kiss starts off slow and calm. As if both of you were still trying to understand that this was actually happening because despite the hesitant movements, neither of you can hide the intense hunger lingering underneath every soft peck.

Iwaizumi, just as usual, lacks the patience to keep it going like that, not even trying to take it easier for even longer as he pulls your chin down and calmly pushes his tongue into your mouth, easily eliciting a soft moan from you. Your fingers find home in his brown curls, pulling at the thick strands and finally making him grunt right against your tongue; the deep sound sending vibrations and sweet little jolts of excitement through your whole body.

You slowly feel his hands wander; first starting off caressing your back, groping the soft flesh of your waist as well as the fingers of his right hand softly digging into your skin and for a second. You allow yourself to fall deeper and deeper into the perfect feeling of his touch until suddenly a mental image of his most recent ex-girlfriend pops up in your head and you stop functioning completely.

Iwaizumi lets his lips wander down your chin, placing a row of open mouthed kisses on your jaw before he moves to your neck and pulls the sensitive skin into his mouth without wasting another minute. The feeling of his hot tongue on your skin has your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you desperately try to distract yourself from your anxiety‘s attempt to ruin this for you.

You let out a soft whimper when Hajime wraps one of his big hands around one of your tits, harshly groping the flesh while rubbing his hard, clothed cock against your thick thigh.

His deep grunts and needy touches have you ruining your panties in no time to the point where the lacey fabric is literally sticking to your hot flesh in a rather uncomfortable way.

“Need you, baby”, Iwaizumi grunts, the movements of his hips rather sloppy and rushed yet so, so genuine and sweet, you can‘t help but smile softly.

“You got me, Haji”, you reply and take his handsome face into your hands, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs, “I‘m all yours.”

“Fuck, baby”, he moans and suddenly pulls away, his hands finding their way to the hem of your dress before he meets your eyes and wordlessly asks for your consent.

You give him a quick nod, pushing the voice of your anxiety all the way to the back of your head as Hajime slowly pushes the fabric up your thighs, revealing more and more skin before his eyes roll into the back of his eyes at the sight of your black lace panties.

He doesn‘t waste much time; quickly pulling the rest of it over your head and then taking a whole step back to let his greedy eyes roam your body with lust and nothing but adoration.

And when you realize your current, exposed state you take a deep breath to hold those insecurities back, however they‘re a lot faster than you are.

You nervously try to cover your naked body with your arms. Just the thought of him finding you and your body disgusting breaks your heart into pieces and with shivers of shame rushing down your spine, you lower your gaze.

“L-Look, I know it‘s not what you‘re used to and I- you don‘t have to touch me. I can just suck your cock or give you a handjob if you feel more comfortable that way”, you say, your voice a mere whisper and eventually breaking at the end when you give in to the tears.

“Baby…”, Iwaizumi sighs, pain evident in the tone of his voice. He calmly takes your wrists into his big hands before he pulls your arms away from your body, softly asking you to look at him and after what feels like an eternity, you manage to lift your head only to be met with nothing but warm, dark green eyes.

“You‘re fucking perfect”, he whispers and places a tiny little kiss on your lips, leaving you longing for more as he pulls away right afterwards, “there‘s literally nothing I would change about you.”

At the sound of those sweet words, you simply cannot hold back your tears any longer. You look at Iwaizumi with a quivering bottom lip as you let out a row of soft sobs; digging your nails into the skin of his wrists because you simply don‘t know what else to do.

For the first time in your life, your brain isn‘t protesting against a compliment and you know if it wasn‘t for him, there would be no way you‘d believe it.

“B-But your ex-girlfriends are the exact opposite and-”, “They don‘t matter, baby. You‘re you and it‘s all I could have asked for. I‘m in love with every part of your body and that has never been any different”, Iwaizumi interrupts you with his calm voice, placing his hands on your waist before one of them finds its way to your barely clothed ass.

“But-”, “No more buts”, the brunette says, a lot sterner and more determined, groping the flesh of your ass and then landing a firm spank on the soft flesh which has you whimpering into the crook of his neck.

Iwaizumi chuckles and pulls you into another deep kiss, sucking at your tongue, nibbling on your bottom lip all while his hands make sure to graze every bit of naked skin they can find. He pushes his leg in between your thighs, pressing it right against your cunt and without even wasting another second you find yourself grinding against the strong muscle. The fabric of his jeans rubs your throbbing clit in the best way possible, eliciting a row of needy whimpers from you.

You feel yourself soaking through the fabric of our lace panties and you know you‘re currently leaving a huge stain on Iwaizumi‘s pants but the pleasure clouding your mind makes it so easy to just ignore it.

“What a needy girl you are, baby”, Hajime mumbles, caressing the slightly dampened skin of cheeks with his thumb before he moves to graze your bottom lip and eventually pushes the digit into your open mouth.

Your lids fly open at the taste of his skin on your tongue, twirling the muscle around his thumb and then sucking on it softly, followed by some muffled moans of his name.

Iwaizumi watches you attentively for what feels like an eternity. His beautiful eyes wandering from the way you‘re rubbing your clunt against his clothed thigh to your perky nipples and then up to the way your lips look wrapped around his thumb like that and from the way his expression keeps growing darker and even hungrier, you know he‘s more than just enjoying your despair.

“I want to spit in your mouth”, he says, using the dominant tone you‘re oh so used to at this point and there‘s no way you‘d ever say no to him.

Something about being claimed in such a lewd way by the man you‘ve been dreaming of for years has you grinding your pussy into his thigh even harder; making sure to hit your clit with every rushed drag of your hips.

“Yes, p-please, Daddy”, you beg, not even overthinking any of your words as you part your lips and look at him with big, needy eyes.

When you notice the rather shocked and slightly overwhelmed expression on Iwaizumi‘s face, you gulp harshly, tilting your head to the side with your lips pushed into a concerned pout.

“What‘s wrong, Iwa?”, you whisper, way too scared of his response.

“You called me Daddy”, he replies and licks his plump lips, whereas you freeze completely at his comment.

“D-Did I? I‘m so sorry, Iwa”, the apology falls past your lips almost instantly at the realization because you know that not every guy is comfortable with such dynamic and even if Hajime definitely has a natural dominance to his personality, you should have waited a little longer before bringing this particular kink up.

“None of my boyfriends liked it and I don‘t like using it with completely strangers so I g-guess I just feel really safe with you and it slipped and I- oh, God, I‘m so sorry.”

You pull away from Iwaizumi with shaky hands, tears threatening to spill for the nth time within such a short period and you try your best to look everywhere but his eyes.

However, Iwaizumis seems to have other plans.

He takes your chin into his hand and pulls your face closer, nudges your nose with his own and then sucks your bottom lip into his mouth; making you whimper rather loudly.

“Say it again, baby”, he whispers, “tell Daddy how badly you want his spit.”

As his words echo inside of your brain, you let out a loud, high pitched whine, harshly trying to press your thigh further together ss the throbbing of your cunt becomes unbearable.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply, pushing his hand down to your neck and smiling softly when he wraps his pretty fingers around your throat, feeding right into every single fantasy you‘ve been imagining for so long, “spit in my mouth and on my cunt, I don‘t care. I just need it.”

“Good girl”, Iwa growls softly, “open up then, pretty one.”

You part your lips almost automatically at the sound of his demand, sticking your tongue out slightly and looking up at him with anticipation and such eagerness, if it wasn‘t for him, you would have never been as comfortable as this.

Iwaizumi smirks at you, keeping his grip on your throat firm but not too tight as he gathers his own saliva and spits into your mouth with a loud, lewd sound that sends shivers of pleasure straight down your spine and right into your core.

You can‘t stop your lips from stretching into a big smile when his taste coats the muscle of your tongue, swallowing it all in one go before you open your mouth yet again to show him it‘s all gone.

“Good fucking girl”, Iwaizumi praises you softly, caressing your cheek before he lets fo of your throat, “I got myself a perfect little doll, hm?”

“Thank you, Daddy”, you reply quickly, the intense urge to obey to his every word and submit to his every move absolutely overwhelming at this point, but you would never want it any other way.

“Look at you, using your manners for me. You‘re welcome, princess. What about a little reward for being so good for me, baby? Wanna sit on my face so I can eat that pretty pussy of yours?”, Iwaizumi takes you hand into his, intertwining his fingers with yours before he guides you to the couch, letting himself fall into the soft cushion whereas you try your best not to panic at his words.

Of course the thought of having his mouth on your cunt is more than just tempting but you've never sat on a guy‘s face before; the fear of literally suffocating him with your weight making it impossible for you to even think about it.

“C-Can‘t you just eat me out like this, Daddy?”, you whisper, looking down to meet Iwa‘s hungry gaze and stopping him from pulling your panties any further down your thighs.

“I‘m too heavy”, the explanation follows right away, not wanting him to think it has anything to do with him or his wishes, “I don‘t want to hurt you.”

“Baby, I want you to sit on my face so I can eat your pretty pussy. That‘s it”, Iwaizumi says, his right hand finding the clasp of your bra and quickly getting rid of it before he takes both of your tits into his big hands; toying with your nipples and attentively watching the way your gasps grow louder with every pull on the perky buds, “you don‘t have to if you don‘t want to but don‘t you dare worry about me because this has been a dream of mine for literal years. Oh, how badly I want to be squished by those pretty, thick thighs of yours – you have no idea.”

“I want to! It’s just that I’ve never done this before. A-Are you sure? Please don‘t think you have to want this to make me feel better, I‘m okay with whatever you‘re comfortable with”, you whisper, not trusting your voice when you suddenly feel Iwaizumi‘s fingers tracing patterns on the inside of your thighs.

“Enough of this, pretty one”, his words are accompanied by a firm spank on your naked ass cheek; the pain of the sting leaving your pussy a spasming mess and with a soft moan you tighten your grip in his hair, “now sit on my face or I won’t fuck you.”

“N-No! Daddy, I‘m sorry, I promise I‘ll be good”, you whine quickly letting go of him so he can lay on his back only for Iwaizumi to get rid of his black shirt; revealing his strong, well trained body and all those dark lines adorning his tanned skin to your hungry eyes.

It takes you a few good seconds to gain enough confidence to actually spread your legs over his face, your whole body shaking with nervousness. But once Iwaizumi wraps his strong arms around your thighs and pulls your body even further down to his face, you slowly start easing up.

The feeling of his hot breath fanning against the wet flesh of your cunt sends goosebumps down your back. And the sight of his pretty face between your thick thighs, something you‘ve always been so insecure about, seems to slowly take a place as one of your favorite images to ever exist.

“Look me in the eyes, baby”, Iwaizumi mumbles and sucks at the skin of your inner thigh, his tongue on your skin making more and more juices gush out of your already drenched cunt as you allow yourself to meet his hungry gaze.

And just when your eyes meet, Iwaizumi sticks his tongue out and licks a long stripe over the hor flesh of your pussy before he gently pulls your little clit into his mouth and starts sucking on it.

You let out a loud groan; the sudden stimulation on your needy clit sending literal shock waves of pleasure through your body and without even realizing you slowly grind yourself further against his mouth.

Iwaizumi moans into your flesh, the deep bass of his voice sending vibrations right into your core, making your cunt clench even harder around nothing and if it wasn‘t for the intensity of his stare, you would have looked away already. Yet just as usual, there‘s something about the way he looks at you which has you feeling at literal ease – even in such a situation.

“Come on, baby”, Iwaizumi suddenly grunts, letting go of the sensitive bud with a loud sound before placing an open mouthed kiss on your clit and landing a harsh spank on your ash which has your body jolting in antica, “don’t be shy now. Ride my face like the good girl you are, make me proud…”, he adds softly, his words encouraging you easily and with a sound of affirmation, you start grinding your hips to meet the hot muscle of his tongue.

The following minutes are filled with loud slurping noises, high pitched moans and deep grunts as well as more words of affirmation and encouragement all while Iwaizumi continues to switch between thrusting his tongue into your tight hole and sucking on your clit before he eventually starts fingerfucking you with two of his thick digits.

You can't help but throw your head back at the immense amount of pleasure; your body and mind slowly reaching a point of complete haze as you lose yourself in the feeling of his touch.

And by the time you finally feel the taste of your high coating the tip of your tongue, your grip on Iwaizumi‘s hair tightens and a row of loud, choked out begs fall past your bit swollen lips.

“Look at your greedy little pussy clenching around my fingers like that”, Iwa chuckles deeply, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he keeps his mouth way too close to your throbbing little clit, “and those pretty begs. Gosh, baby, you‘re going to drive me insane.”

“S-So close, Daddy”, you choke out, your eyes flying open when you feel a third finger joining the two inside of your tight cunt, the pain of the stretch in combination with the pleasure of your upcoming high making your head spin.

“There we go, that‘s my baby”, he takes a deep breath and starts kneading the soft flesh of your ass in his palms, “want you to cum all over my fucking face. Show me what a good fucking girl you are.”

And those are the last words your brain manages to register before you feel the first wave of your orgasm hit you. Your sight turns pitch black and then white for a good second, your whole body tensing up at the feeling of coil in your core finally snapping.

Your thighs are shaking, your breath continuously hitching as you desperately try to regain your composure and if it wasn‘t for Iwaizumi‘s touch on your sensitive pussy, you‘d stay in the beautiful haze of your orgasm.

“You came so hard for me, baby”, Iwaizumi grins and pushes his fingers into his mouth before you finally find enough energy to get off of his face.

“W-Want more”, you whisper, your voice raspy and breathy as you tell him your request; low-key scared of being too greedy yet at the sight of Iwaizumi‘s eyes sparkling with excitement, you know he‘s not one to deny you anything. He‘s never been, after all.

“How about we move this to your bedroom, baby? I‘ve been dying to press your face into the mattress and ruin that little pussy of yours.” You feel a jolt of excitement blooming inside your chest at his words, nodding eagerly before you reach for his hand and guide him down the hall to your bedroom.

“Do you want me to suck you off?”, you say when the two of you come to stand in your room, your eyes focusing on the huge bulge in his pants, which manages to scare you slightly with its impressive size.

You always knew your best friend wasn‘t on the smaller side when it came to size yet you still can‘t hide just how surprised you are by its actual size. And suddenly the three fingers make a lot more sense to you.

“Let‘s save that for another time, pretty one. I‘ve been dreaming about pumping your cute little hole full of my cum for way too long. I can‘t wait any longer”, Iwaizumi replies and finally starts unbuckling his belt.

You take the few seconds he‘s busy to let your eyes admire the beauty of his perfectly sculpted body. You follow the dark lines of his chest tattoo, take in the sight of his stone hard abs and veiny arms as you press your thighs even more together to ease some of the pressure on your cunt.

“Are you done eyefucking me, pretty one?”, Iwaizumi suddenly chuckles, casually pushing his jeans as well as his boxer briefs down his meaty thighs and exposing his hard cock for your hungry eyes to devour.

He wraps his pretty fingers around his throbbing length, the tip an angry shade of red as precum continues to leak out; making your mouth water at the mere thought of having him in your mouth.

“Everything about you is so pretty”, you sigh and look into his eyes, the genuine appreciation in the green surrounding his iris making your heart grow warmer before he comes to stand in front of you in all of his glory.

“I love you so much”, Iwaizumi replies calmly, taking your face into his big hands before he places the softest kiss on your forehead.

“I love you, too”, you mumble and get up, pressing your lips against his and sighing into his mouth when he pushes his tongue past your lips without missing a beat.

Just when Iwaizumi starts letting his hands wander over your naked body, he halts his movements and pulls away slightly, “my pretty little baby, make sure to face the mirror so you can watch while I fuck your brains out. I want you to see just how perfect you are.”

“Yes, Daddy”, you whisper, your lips stretched into a big, big smile as you move out of his strong grip to position yours on your knees just as you were told.

Your heart suddenly starts racing again when you bury your face in your arms, making sure to push your ass as high as possible to give Iwaizumi easy access to your glistening cut. The excitement in combination with the pleasure and deep, deep longing finally manage to take over your brain; shoving the anxiety alongside all those insecurities to the very back of your head and making it easy for you to put your whole focus on the tll male behind you.

Iwaizumi’s rough hands caress your bare ass softly, kneading the flesh and lightly spanking it a few times before he lets a thick drop of his spit fall right onto your clenching pussy; sending goosebumps down your back at the feeling of it sliding down your flesh and mixing with your leaking juices.

You feel the tip of his thick cock nudging your entrance, the memory of his size making you tense up subconsciously and just when you’re about to hold your breath, Iwaizumi’s deep, calming voice echoes through the silence of your room.

“Take a deep breath, baby”, he whispers, knowing you’re going to follow his orders just like the good girl you love to be, “Daddy’s got you, okay? I’m gonna go easy, I promise.”

You lift your head to meet his comforting gaze through the mirror in front of you and without another beat passing, you feel yourself calming down again; the feeling of being absolutely safe and secure in his hand making it the easiest task.

And when Iwaizumi feels the tension in your body easing up, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes his thick tip into your tight hole. You whimper at the delicious stretch, the pain easily overshadowed by the sound of Iwaizumi’s heavy breathing and little moans.

“I’m gonna go all in, baby or else it’s going to hurt a lot more”, you appreciate his warning because as he’s saying it, Iwaizumi thrusts the whole of his impressive length into your spasming cunt; pushing every bit of air out of your lungs and pushing you way too close to your second high of the night. You can’t help but whimper loudly, tears already streaming down your cheeks because of the beautiful feeling of pain and pleasure mixing inside of your veins from the intensity of the stretch.

Iwaizumi, as always the gentleman, gives you all the time you need to adjust to his size; only growing slightly impatient as you still whine softly after two whole minutes yet you’re quick to lift your head again with quivering bottom lip and teary eyes, begging him to just fuck you.

“Please, Daddy”, you sob, moving away from him in a desperate attempt for some kind of friction; your cunt spasming around his thick cock like crazy and you know you’re only a few thrust and some clit stimulation away from your next high, “please, fuck me.”

“My greedy little whore”, Iwaizumi grunts, pulling his cock out of you astonishingly slow with the sole purpose of teasing you, “you’re going to take what Daddy gives you, did you hear me?”

You moan as the feeling of his tip dragging alongside your spongy walls, your eyes rolling into the back of your head only to find your way back to reality with a couple of harsh spanks on your already sore ass.

“Good sluts answer when being talked to, pretty one”, he warns, thrusting his cock back into you with one quick snap of his hips; burying himself balls deep inside of your overly sensitive cunt.

“Yes, Daddy, yes”, you cry and look up at him with glossy eyes, “just please, fuck my stupid little cunt, please.” Iwaizumi lets out a row of deep chuckles followed by raspy groans in response to your perfect answer before he nods at you and mumbles a few soft praises right into your ear and then straightens himself again.

“Alright then, pretty one.”

Loud grunts fill your ears so beautifully, echoing through the thick air of your bedroom and in combination with the sound of skin meeting skin in a constant rhythm, you feel the exact way your body is slowly falling into the beautiful bliss of another high.

Iwaizumi fucks you fast, harsh and rough. There’s nothing soft and romantic about the way his hips are meeting yours in a steady rhythm; making sure to hit that sweet spot deep inside of your pussy with every single one of his thrusts as he continues to use his whole strength on your burning ass.

But not once do you even think about telling him to go easier on you; this iwaizumi the one you’ve been imagining for all those years.

It doesn’t take long for him to wrap his strong arm around your chest to pull you up, his fingers also finding their way back home around your delicate throat.

“Look at you, baby”, he groans right into your ear, making you open your eyes and meet your own reflection in the mirror, “you’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t comprehend it.”

You stare at yourself with your lips parted in awe, eyes falling to the sight of Iwaizumi’s thick cock stretching your tiny cunt before you go back to trying to recognize yourself.

Because for the first time in literal years, you don’t hate what you see and even if it’s because of IWaizumi’s strong body right behind you, you still feel this certain type of warmth blossoming in your chest.

"Feels so good, baby", he groans, throwing his head back as the movements of his hips start to become slightly sloppier, a little more uncontrolled, "so tight and warm, so fucking perfect", Hajime’s voice breaks at the end of his soft praise because of your walls clenching around his cock even more the closer you get to the edge.

You start feeling dizzy, your sight turning into a blurr and at some point you can’t even in- or exhale without letting out a shaky moan.

Iwaizumi looks at you with wide, hungry eyes, the feeling of your walls gripping his cock like a goddamn vice sending him into an ecstatic state and the longer he watches you getting lost in the pleasure, the more he struggles to keep his rhythm.

You’re mumbling incoherent sentences, desperately trying to tell the brunette about how close you are whereas the pleasure makes it absolutely impossible for you to form a proper sentence.

“Are you going to cum for me again, baby?”, Iwaizumi grunts, tightening his grip on your throat, making you gasp for air as you nod in response to his question.

“My perfect little slut”, he sighs, his hand reaching down to rub your hard, throbbing clit with two of his rough digits, “fucking do it. Cum for your Daddy like the good whore you are.”

And just like a few minutes prior, those words are the last straw and eventually make you stumble over the edge head first. Your walls start spasming around Iwa’s cock like crazy, your loud moans and soft cries are the only thing he can focus on and without missing another minute, Iwaizumi also lets himself get consumed by the beautiful feeling of relief.

Iwa hips still, his cock buried deeply inside of your tight sex as he coats your walls with his creamy cum. Your new boyfriend gets lost in the feeling of finally getting to cum inside of you after waiting for so many years; feeding the fantasy of getting to claim you in the most intimate way possible. He buries his face in the sweaty crook of your neck, his rapid breath fanning your skin as the two of you try to calm down from your intense highs. Your hand finds its way into his dark hair, massaging his scalp with your eyes closed and your legs still shaking from the aftermath of your breathtaking orgasm. Without pulling out of you, despite his own release leaking out of you and down the sides of his cock, Iwaizumi makes you lay down with him; just tightly holding you in his arms.

A few minutes filled with nothing but soft breathing pass by before you finally find the strength to move again; the sudden need to look at Iwaizumi’s completely fucked out face overwhelming you in the best way possible. And when you turn around to look at him, you’re met with a breathtaking sight.

Messy strands of sweaty hair falling into his flushed face, swollen lips and glossy eyes sparkling at you in a way you’ve never seen before and in that moment you feel yourself falling in love with Iwaizumi all over again.

“I’m so in love with you”, you whisper and caress the soft skin of his cheeks, loving the way he moves even further into your touch.

“Always and forever only yours, pretty one”, Iwaizumi sighs and presses his forehead against yours.

࿏ A/N: And here it finally is! My first x chubby reader fic!! As a chubby someone who’s been reading fanficion for a long time, I’ve always craved some kind of representation and now I finally got to join this side of the community and I’m more than just happy about the way it turned out. I genuinely hope you guys will enjoy this and find comfort the same way I did while writing this. Please feel free to leave any sort of feedback if you enjoyed it and thank you so much for everything.

#haikyuu smut #Iwaizumi x female reader #Iwaizumi x chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #Iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!! smut #hq!! smut #hq!! x reader #hq!! x female reader #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #kyovtani #💌.chubby reader #💌.for iwa lovers

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy’s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns.

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”

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junisfics · 3 years

Text

All This Time — Armin Arlert (2)

series masterlist

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Series Summary: Reader messages her best friend Armin late one night while she's drunk and needy, but will she remember the things she said to him in the morning, and if she does... will she regret it?

Part Summary: The morning after isn’t what either of them would expect, but after Reader pushes Armin away… she asks him to come right back

Content: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut

Content Warnings: Sexual Content, Mentions of Masturbation, Implied Smut

Armin couldn’t sleep, he didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to lay conscious in your presence forever. So, for a while, he laid there, savoring the feeling of your warm body cuddled up next to him. He would smile to himself whenever you shifted around a little in your sleep just to nuzzle up closer to him, to toss and turn to lay your head on his chest.

He never wanted the morning to come.

He knew the moment that you wake you’d be asking questions. You’d be asking questions or you’d know exactly what happened and you’d kick him out of your bed. You’d be startled and confused and he’d have to explain to you that you were drunk and asked him to stay with you. But then you’d ask why you asked him to stay, and he’d need to explain to you that, while you were drunk, you went on a series of confessions and admissions.

When the sun had just begun to rise over the horizon, and your head was nestled into his shoulder, Armin finally allowed himself to close his eyes.

He didn’t dream. He didn’t get the chance to sleep long enough so his brain could enter that deep state of rest that would even allow him to. He only had feelings. Feelings of contentment, euphoria, nostalgia all washed over him after he closed his eyes.

He’s so in love. He’s in love with you. His heart aches every minute of the day for you, and for this brief passing moment that he has you in his arms, he’s going to pretend that you’re his. He’s going to wish on the morning sun that after this mess passes over that he’ll still have you, and he doesn’t even care if it’s as a friend. Because if Armin can still be the one you cry to at night, he would gladly be your friend over your lover.

He was so grateful as he slept, grateful that whenever he would get that glimpse of consciousness as he turned in the bed that he could still feel your body up against him. He would smile at the little sighs that would leave your lips as you stretched a little in your sleep or when you grabbed ahold of his shirt to anchor you closer.

But Armin wasn’t grateful when you woke.

You had found yourself with your right leg swung over his waist as he lays on his back, your right arm wrapping itself around his neck, and your face nestled into the crook under his jaw. You were laying on top of a chest you didn’t know who it belonged to.

You laid there for a moment, with your eyes wide and staring into the pale flushed skin of his neck as you so desperately try and recall who is in your bed and why they’re there. You were frozen… like you were scared to see who it was.

Finally, you grew the courage to lift your head slightly to peek at their face.

It was Armin. Armin.

Your best friend Armin, that you’ve been in love with for years on end was beneath you in your bed in a position that was far too intimate for you to consider that he had just stayed the night as a friend.

His lips were slightly parted as he breathed, his pretty eyelashes resting against his cheeks that were flushed a cute little shade of pink. His hair was all ruffled and messed, pushed out of his eyes so you could see his entire face.

You weren’t disgusted by him being in your bed… my goodness, it was far from that. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest at the revelation and all of a sudden your body was growing hot and the sheets that remained draped over you were suffocating.

At a second realization of ‘Oh my god, Armin’s in my bed’, you jerk your entire body away from him, scramble out of the bed and stumble to the floor just as he shoots upright in his wake. Your eyes were completely blown wide, your lips were pressed into a tight line and Armin could see your arms shaking at your sides. You looked mortified.

Armin lays with his arms behind him, resting on the heels of his hand as he looks to you with an equally incredulous expression.

“What — what are you doing in my bed?” You ask, voice just above a whisper. You’re too startled to speak any louder.

“You asked me to stay,” Armin says quickly, remaining still like he’s afraid you’ll be startled by any movement.

You take your eyes off him for a moment to scan them across the ground as you think over what could have possibly happened. They flit from side to side, jerking in their sockets as you look over the hardwood floor.

“Did — did we…?” You begin, your chest beginning to visibly heave as you suck in deep breaths.

You don’t know whether you want him to answer that question with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. But some sick twisted part of you was aroused by the possibility that the answer could be ‘yes’.

“No! No — you — you were drunk, I didn’t — we didn’t.” He stammers, pulling the sheets off of him and cautiously getting off the bed.

As horrible as it sounds, Armin was relieved to see that you’d forgotten everything that happened. Although he would have to work to pull that confession out of you again, it was much better than you avoiding him out of embarrassment and regret.

But as you think over what he’s said to you in regards to the night’s events, it slowly comes back to you. It’s all blurry, and for a moment you think you could be mistaking it for a dream, but you can make out the brief image of him in your doorway, then between your legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, and then on top of you on your bed.

And then you remember the conversation that had gone along with it.

“I… I asked you to stay…” You murmur to yourself, bringing your head back up to him as he finally stands on the other side of the bed, “Oh my god.”

You bring one arm around your waist and one clasps over your mouth, and for a moment, Armin’s scared you’re going to be sick. But between your fingers, he can hear you whisper a series of expletives over and over.

“Fuck, fuck — you need to go. Fuck! Armin, I’m sorry.” You exclaim, voice wavering as you take your hand from your mouth to point at your bedroom door.

Armin’s heart sinks into his stomach as he realizes that you have remembered every last thing you’d said to him. Maybe he’s the one who’s going to be sick because the terrified and regretful look on your face as his stomach churning in all the wrong ways.

“Out! Now! Oh my God!” You shout, enunciating with another point to the door. Your voice begins to tremble and…

God, please don’t cry. Please don’t cry.

Armin shuts his mouth and clenches his jaw, keeping his eyes on you as he blindly crosses your room to get to your door. He swallows hard before pausing once he gets to the door.

“y/n —”

“Get out!” You cover your eyes with your spare hand as you feel tears beginning to prick your vision.

You’ve cried in front of Armin before, both happy and sad cries. But you’ve never cried because of him, or something you’ve done to him; and never out of frustration in front of him. And you didn’t want to start now.

Armin flinches at your volume and sheepishly exits your room. You follow him, but only to close the door behind him. You swear you could hear him gasp as it slams.

It hurts your heart to see him cowering away from you, and you add that to the things that cause the tears to finally flow over. Not only did you completely humiliate yourself in front of him last night, but you admit something to him you promised yourself you’d never admit… and on top of that, you had just yelled at him.

Fuck, you yelled at him. He didn’t deserve that.

He came over to your house in the middle of the night, worried about your wellbeing because you didn’t have the nerve to tell him you were just drunk. He babied you and cared for you while you were in his way the whole time, and even though it’s the bare minimum, he didn’t have sex with you even though you begged him to.

He was too good, he didn’t deserve that.

You rest your back to the door, sliding down it until your butt hits the floor as your breathing gets choked up and you threaten to audibly sob. You let out a noise of frustration as you cross your arms over your knees and shove your face into the crook of your right elbow.

You can hear your front door shut as he leaves and it only causes you to let out another shaky groan.

The energy towards crying and groaning does no help to the painful pressure that’s already building in your head. You can feel it ache behind your eyes, throbbing along with your heartbeat and sending jolts of sharp pain through your skull when you blink.

You felt disgusting. You were covered in sweat and tears and your fingers and lips were still sticky with remnants of alcohol. You could still taste it on your tongue; the food and the alcohol. But the medicinal taste of the vodka strongly outweighs the warming remains of the melted butter.

It’s like it was telling you that your mistakes outweighed Armin’s kindness.

You didn’t exactly know why you were crying, you only knew that it came from frustration. It was all just churning around in a pot of distress. It was a vile potion of embarrassment, regret, shame, and humiliation that was being force-fed to you as you sat there on the floor.

Even though you heard Armin’s own confession, you still were overwhelmed with regret. His words were still a little blurry, you were still trying to get a grasp on the weight of them.

I’ve always wanted you too.

You didn’t want this. You didn’t want any of it. You were satisfied with the friendship between the two of you, you never wanted it to change. It was platonic, emotionally intimate at times, but it was platonic. You were twin flames, and you didn’t want your internal desire to rip that away from you.

Being friends, best friends, with Armin was a healthy relationship. You could handle the occasional jealousy and lack of physical intimacy if it saved your friendship. You liked it that way. And now that the barriers were broken, and you had forced Armin to leave, you were terrified of losing him at the cost.

Keeping quiet about your romantic love for him was so easy when you had him in the palm of your hand and knew that he would never leave you, especially since you now know that he shared that feeling back. You both were content with the relationship you had. You both knew that neither of you was going anywhere.

It’s not that you planned to never tell him, you knew that you would eventually. But you were planning for years in the future, or maybe you were hoping to grow out of it. You would be able to sit down with him and bring it on easy, give yourself a choice in how you tell him.

But the premature and impulsive reveal of your truth had startled you and you pushed him away in the process.

So, in a way, you didn’t necessarily regret telling him… it was the way you did it.

And you weren’t the only one freaking out about the ways of your confession. Armin was an absolute mess.

In your mind, you were worried that he was taking your words as the truth, but Armin was doing the exact opposite. His thoughts were flying around like hummingbirds, wings flapping at hundreds of beats a minute. He was stuck between hitting the steering wheel out of frustration or just breaking down crying in his car.

Because in Armin’s head, you remembered exactly what you said and you had caught yourself in a lie. You had recognized that it was the alcohol talking and you didn’t mean a single thing you said; you only said it because you were lonely and needy.

And then, you had also recalled the exact words he had said to you in response. The words that were full of honesty. You had remembered the way he said it and the way he had looked at you, and you had been disgusted by it.

In your drunken lies, he had revealed his truth.

And you were regretful of your alcohol-fueled words because they led him to speak on his true desire.

Now, in his head, you were repulsed by him.

He hits the steering wheel hard, hard enough so that he’s gripping his fist with his other hand and gritting his teeth at the pain that shoots through his arm afterward. And then those tears swell in his eyes, stinging them and blurring his vision as he tries to blink them away.

He’s sucking in breaths through his teeth as he finally pulls out of your complex lot. He wipes at his eyes as he drives home as if he believes he’s not actually crying if the tears don’t fall down his cheeks.

You both were embarrassed; at what you did and what you’re doing. Both of you sniffling pathetically as you keep replaying this morning in your heads. Both of you hating yourselves; you for yelling at Armin, and Armin for what he thinks your yelling was for.

You sat on the floor for a while, eventually bringing your legs away from your chest to cross them under each other. You still sat with your head in your hands and your elbows resting on your knees as you steady your breathing before trying to continue with your day.

You wipe at your face in hopes to push the tears away, but you only spread your flaking mascara around and mix it with the sweat and oil that’s accumulated on your face. It was a gross feeling, and it was the thing that finally convinced you to get up.

Water joined your tears in wetting your face as you splash it on from the tap of your bathroom sink. You scrub a little too hard after you rub your face wash in, almost scratching at your skin to get last night’s both physical and mental remnants off your face and out of your head. The water refreshes your skin as you do a final splash to get the suds off, but it does no help to your headache. It only throbs in your head harder from leaning over the sink.

As you lift your head from spitting toothpaste into the drain, another wave of throbbing pain pulses behind your eyes. And as you stare into the mirror, you decide to prioritize getting pain medicine before continuing to refresh yourself. The cup Armin had got for you last night was still sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, and as you pick it up you let out an audible, melancholic sigh. You watch the remainder of the water swish around at the bottom of the cup as you make your way to the kitchen.

You find the pain medicine already sitting on the counter. You bite at the inside of your cheek upon the realization that he most likely placed it there last night insight of the morning.

You hate him, hate him for the way he cares for you and the way he’s so goddamn selfless. Everything about him had your heart twisting in on itself and chest tightening to where you couldn’t breathe.

That only started a few years ago, junior year of high school. You still vividly remember looking into his deep blue eyes, getting lost in their ocean as you hold his sweet face in your hands. It was after your high school had sent out emails regarding the college admission process. Both of you were unsettled with the idea of leaving.

Armin promised you, over and over, that he’d call and visit and drive to however far you go whenever you need it. And then you had grabbed his face in your hands and said to him, ‘now, don’t go replacing me’. That made him giggle a little, his cheeks heating up under your palms before he said

‘I wouldn’t dare’

That was it for you. And after he had gone home you had sat on your bed… just sitting there, wondering why your heart was feeling the way it did.

It’s been like that since. Every last time you saw him it made your whole soul ache. You fell in love with him; his voice, his touch, his mind. You were absolutely drowning in his ocean and he was holding your head underwater, but all this time you were doing the same to him.

You didn’t make breakfast. The state of the kitchen from your drunken antics was a turn-off, and the alcohol that was still swimming around in your stomach had you feeling a little too nauseous for food just yet.

Deciding to clean up the kitchen was probably the safest option for you right now. You were debating between doing as so, or returning to bed and sleeping the day away. But since Armin still lingered within your sheets, kitchen chores were decided on as you already began to shuffle away measuring spoons to their respective drawers.

As you cleaned, you allowed yourself to think forward, accepting the situation and moving on to figuring out how to deal with it. You haven’t checked your phone to see if Armin had messaged you, but you bet your chances that he hasn’t. You probably scared him, for God’s sake.

The guilt and denial were still simmering as the acceptance was poured into the pot. You knew you needed to apologize for a multitude of things that have occurred within the past twelve-ish hours, starting with the fact that you called him in the middle of the night in the first place. Armin already knows you’re sorry, he can read you like a book, but you need to say it to him. You need to call him or something.

You were at a crossroads once more; did you allow the tension to settle a little while longer, or do you apologize as soon as possible? You had to apologize before he did, because you know damn well he will eventually, even though this situation that wasn’t his fault.

When the bowl with the dry baking goods clashes with the counter and clatters to the floor, spilling its contents all around your feet, you get your answer for you. In an overflow of emotions and frustrated curses, you leave the mess on the floor and blindly search through the house for your phone. When it’s found, you call him again, sniffling and letting yourself cry in defeat.

Armin got your call not even an hour after he had arrived home. He’d ignored his grandparents as they welcomed him home, even though he knew he would regret it later, and dragged himself straight up the stairs to his bedroom to just take a seat on the edge of his bed. He had his head in his hands, heels of his palms pressing into his temples.

And he just sat. Armin sat with his teeth piercing his bottom lip and his mind telling him that he’s never going to be able to be with you the way he was before.

He looked at his phone for a few moments, watching it buzz, face-up on his nightstand. It took him a few moments to register that it was you calling him and not a spam number.

He couldn’t stop himself from picking up.

‘Armin? Armin, I’m sorry — I’m sorry for yelling, just please — please come back,’

It was safe to assume that you were crying. He could hear your hiccuping and sniffling through the phone. All sort of self-respect he had gone out the door once he heard your distress. As much as you hated him for being so kind, he hated you for having him wrapped around your finger.

“What happened?” He asks.

‘I — I need to talk to you and I spilled — spilled shit all over the kitchen. I’m just so fucking — God, Armin I’m sorry!’

The lack of communication was truly hindering both of you severely. Both of your executions were fucked and both of your receptions were equally so because of poor wording. Now, Armin didn’t know what you were mad at and you didn’t know if he was upset in return.

“Can I come help?” He says, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible.

‘Please,’ You beg, and he can still you rustling around on the other end.

Armin relaxes, but only a little, because at least he knew you weren’t mad at him. Or maybe you were, but your own guilt was outweighing it. He had a feeling you were reflecting your self-frustration onto him, he always has a feeling. He knows you too well not to.

It was almost funny how you greet him at the door you had just recently slammed in his face. You had tears running down your cheeks and you were sniffling and coughing as you tried to sputter out a string of explanations. For a moment, Armin could only stand there and watch; watch you speak nonsense while gesturing with your hands.

After a minute or so, Armin realizes that you’ve stopped. He couldn’t make out a single thing you had said, only getting an ear of something that sounded like an apology. But no matter what you had said to him, he outstretches his arms to pull your shaking body against him. And as he holds you close, as your arms wrap around his torso, you can’t stop another wave of tears that drip down your cheeks.

Armin just holds you, like he did last night when he was in your bed. Your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling into the crook of his jaw, and hands grabbing at the fabric at the back of his tee-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, “I didn’t mean to — mean to scare you or — or anything,”

His attempt to comfort you only crumbles you down more because he didn’t need to apologize, he doesn’t have to apologize.

“No, no, no Armin,” You stutter, pushing at his chest to distance yourself enough to look at his face. He lets his hands fall to your waist, keeping a tight enough grip on you to not let you escape. You look up to him for a moment before looking down to his chest, hitting against it softly out of frustration, “Don't — don’t apologize. You don’t need to apologize,”

“I want to,” He tilts his head down slightly.

“Don’t! Please. This — this is my fault. I never — I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to see you last night. I wanted to see you because I love you. I love you, like, more than I should, and I didn’t mean to tell you last night. I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry,” You grab at his shirt again, tugging on it and stretching it out.

“y/n —” He begins.

“And I scared myself because — because I didn’t mean to say it then and — and I didn’t think you were going to say it back. I just — I don’t know,” You take in a shaky exhale before letting it out.

Armin feels like he can breathe again. You were sincere last night, you were telling the truth, and you weren’t disgusted with him. Armin could breathe again because he knew the feeling was mutual.

You let yourself bring your cheek back to his chest, bending your elbows to bring yourself close to him. Armin lets his arms slide around your waist, pulling you against him again to hopefully convey that ‘this is okay’

“I embarrassed myself… and I yelled at you because of it and — and you don’t deserve that.” You mumble a little softer, into the soft skin of his neck.

You can feel his chest shift around beneath your cheek as he breathes, and you can hear his heart beating quickly but steadily under your ear. You don’t want to leave him this time, you don’t want to jerk away from his touch. But you’re also scared of what will happen when you do have to pull away from him.

So you let yourself stay like this for a while, and Armin doesn’t protest. He continues to caress the skin of your back through that skimpy tanktop you’re still wearing and rests his cheek against the top of your head. He could stay like this forever, the same way he could have when he was in your bed last night.

“I meant what I said,” Armin says, stilling his hands until only his thumb gently circles over your shirt, “That I’ve always… wanted you — and loved you,”

With your body still pressed against him you say, “All this time… it — it was always you. I just didn’t know how to say it and I didn’t want to scare you away,”

“You could never,”

“And I was worried about what would happen after I told you. I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t feel the same way. I couldn’t lose this.” Your voice has shrunk down to an almost whisper, and you’ve shut your eye and let yourself sink deeper into his skin.

“God, y/n,” Armin can’t stop the breathy laugh that leaves his lips, “You — you have no idea,” He pushes on your shoulders gently to look at your face.

“Why are you laughing?” You look up to him, a little confused and concerned look on your face.

“I’m not. I just — you have no fucking idea how — how crazy I am for you,” Armin grabs ahold of your face hard enough so your cheeks get smushed slightly beneath his palms. Your own hands come up to his forearms, just grazing them.

“I don’t know how you didn’t see it,” He whispers, looking into your wide eyes with admiration.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and you hope that Armin can feel your cheeks heat up beneath his hands. He was so close, he was right there, he was looking down to you with his nose an inch away from yours.

“Do you — do you remember what I said last night?” You breathe, leaning forward ever so slightly.

God, how could he forget?

“Which… which part?” Armin could barely think. You were rising on your toes, your breath fanning over his lips. He could feel your body trembling as you brought yourself closer to him.

“When I said that I want you,” You mumble, looking to his lips for a brief moment. Armin catches the flit of your eyes and he can feel his stomach twist, “that I need you,”

“Yeah,” Armin can’t stop his voice from shaking, “What — what do you need from me?”

And he knows the answer, he knows the answer, he just needs to hear you say it. He needs to hear your sweet voice speak words so lewd that he’ll feel like his knees have turned to jelly.

“I want you to fuck me, just like you promised. I’m sober this time, I slept it off.” Your breathing is so shaky, your voice is all strained to the point where it could pass for a whimper.

Armin can feel your words flow straight south, swimming below his navel and hardening his cock. He looks over you, over your face and your body that’s still exposed by your revealing clothes. He wants to tear them off.

“We can talk more later. I need you, so bad.” You bring your hands to his chest again, taking the stretched fabric in your fingers and tugging him closer.

“Yeah?” Armin nods in confirmation, he would tease you if he had the courage to.

“Yeah,” You nod, biting down on your bottom lip. You rise on your toes again, bringing your body flush against his. You can feel his cock hard in his sweats against your stomach, can feel his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Can — can I have you, please.” You slide one hand down his chest, shivering at the way the lean muscles in his abdomen divet under your fingertips. When you reach his waistband, you stop, toying with the strings with your right hand.

Armin answers you by grabbing ahold of the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his. They’re soft and warm, and they make your insides go all fuzzy and you practically whimper at the sensation. Your legs were already shaking due to the close proximity but now you’re deathly afraid of your knees buckling.

He felt so right up against you, with his hands holding you close and his tongue licking at the seam of your lips. He had you melting so quickly that you cannot believe you forced yourself to wait this long to tell him.

Even though your body was all tense, something inside you relaxed. Armin was here with you, he wasn’t leaving.

#armin arlert smut #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x reader smut #armin smut #armin x reader #armin x reader smut #all this time #1k

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boytouya · 3 years

Text

like real people do

pairing ★ dabi x male reader

genre ★ fluff, angst, fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff...

warnings ★ manga spoilers, blood (crying)

w.count ★ 1440

request ★ “I nearly sent an ask to Slutouya thinking it was you for the 4th time💀 I want request headcanons of bath times with Dabi where he lets you take care of him, wash and baby him.” -anon

a/n: why did i realize that you said headcanons after i wrote it- i’m so sorry!! taglist in the reblogs <3

A single droplet of red makes way to cool water, swirling in different directions until it relaxes into a pale shade of baby pink. Touya’s back rests against the cool, porcelain surface of your bathtub, his cold staples pressing into his shoulder blades. Grooves of torn skin, rotten and purple, carry flashes of pain across his torso, his neck, his arms, his jaw. But with you, it feels numb. The gentle caress of water on his skin is almost heaven, soothing to his broken skin as he presses his head against your hands. Touya doesn’t complain, not when you fill a cup with water and pour it over his white locs of hair. Not when your fingers massage his scalp so tenderly, not when you hum to him.

His eyes, squeezed painfully shut with stress he didn’t know was building behind his skull, open slowly. You. You were his boy, his everything. The reason why he watched the sun rise, the reason why his touches across your skin would linger. The reason why he looked forward to the next morning. Even if it was filled with pain. You’d be there. You made life worth living. Maybe he cared too much, maybe there wasn’t really someone there for him, maybe he was making it all up. Maybe one day you’d disappear into thin air, leaving him with a wreckage of his own body and soul. And maybe it wasn’t genuine. Maybe it was a facade. Maybe you weren’t his boy, and he was yours. But he hoped, and he pleaded to anything, anyone that you were. He knew he was yours. And he hoped to God you were his. He loved you. Tenderly, tragically. He loved you.

Tonight, he’d stare at the cool water rippling in your bathtub and ponder. About you, about himself. A gentle shade of pink, the same as the limited space of healthy skin on his face when you said something to get back at him. Tonight, he’d let blood red tears trail down his face while he loses himself in the sound of your voice. Your humming, your laughter, your positive affirmations. Tonight, he’d listen. No arguing, no awkward jokes after you compliment him. He‘ll give in, just this once, for you. Maybe even for himself. A gentle kiss on his shoulder pulls him back to reality, Dabi’s eyes shifting upwards through his eyelashes to stare up at you. A bit silly from his angle, but everything he’s always wanted nonetheless. ‘Tense’ is the word your lips form, and he can feel his eyebrows press together in confusion. Your hand, steady against his quivering shoulder, presses down gently and- oh. His shoulders are tense.

It’s a shame he cant bathe for too long, not with skin grafts. But he enjoys it anyway, shifting his weight against the bathtub so he can face you, even with suds of soap ruining his hair. He can tell you pushed it back just to kiss his forehead, and there he goes...turning just as pink as the bloodstained water. Just about everything he knew was bloodstained these days. Soaked and overflowing, spilling over the edge until he’s drowning in it. It’s thick and merciless, creeping through his staples and stitches and-

You flick water at him in his direction, a sweet smile on your face. It reaches your eyes, high on the apples of your cheeks. So perfect. You’re so perfect. A pretty boy with pretty hair, pretty eyes, pretty skin. He lifts his hands, mimicking Frankenstein for a moment (which he deems as ironic, considering he was the embodiment of such a thing) before wiggling his fingers. Droplets of water land on your face, resting on your cheeks as your hands shoot in front of yourself. The sound you make is ebullient and loud against the tiles of the bathroom. He wished he could bottle it up, keep it safe around his neck and open it whenever he needed a mood boost. All to himself, something to get drunk on over and over.

Touya can’t quite place the sound of his laugh. Airy and tarnished, completely vacant of the bright boy he used to be. But he laughs anyway. He lets it float into the air, even if it falls on his thrawn ears, anomalous to even himself. You seem to never care, your eyes glazing over with something luminous whenever you hear it. He’d never admit it out loud, but it hurts his chest. The catch lights of your eyes reflect the dim lighting of your bathroom, and he can see himself in their reflection. Through your eyes, there’s nothing distorted. Nothing wrong with him, nothing out of place. Through your eyes, he carries the secrets to the universe. Beneath the sleeve of scars is something magical, enchanted and special. But Dabi remains stubborn— slow with handing you his heart. But you knew, and he knew. The best of him belonged to you.

Your warm hands cup his cheeks, just as he’d done with you several times. Sure, a bit of soap had smeared across his face, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Touya can feel his heart do somersaults in his chest, beating against his ribcage as his heart begs him to say something. Give himself to you, offer his hands to sit atop yours, to engulf your own in his kindling flame.

Though the water had cooled long ago, the air against Dabi’s skin burns. Sets his skin on fire, surrounded by shades of blue, the same as his flames, the same as the blue chrysanthemums he gave to his mother in the hospital. It isn’t unfamiliar, Dabi is adjusted to the feeling of burning. Searing through his skin, tearing apart his grafts and leaving him weak. Weaker than before, on doe legs that can’t seem to keep him up. But that’s when he’d turn to you. He’d lean on you. He never uttered a word, not when it counted. Not about you, not about his feelings towards you, but his brain would sing about it all day. All night.

“What're you thinking about?” Dabi whispers into your palms, his eyes fluttering closed. Droplets of water rest on his long eyelashes, collecting at the tip of each strand until he blinks them away. You could only conclude that it was therapeutic for him, and it felt a bit intrusive to watch him relax in your hands. He was yours to hold, to collect the remains of his shattered bones and put back together. Something so raw, so disgusting, but so completely, utterly, undeniably Dabi.

“Just you,” You sigh longingly, dipping the discarded cup back under the water to pour it over Touya’s head. He can feel your movements against the undulation of the water occupying the tub, tilting his head back upon instink. He bares his neck to you, in its full vulnerability, no longer wrapped in bandages that were stuffed with mangled gauze. He lets your feathering touches linger, the corners of his lips blooming into a small smile when his ears pick up the sound of a twinkle in your voice. It’s small, but it’s beaming. Shining against the edge of the tub, illuminating his face. You pinch the skin on his cheek ever so gently, admiration bubbling inside your core when he swats at your hand. “What're you thinking about, Stitches?”

Dabi’s face scrunches up, his nostrils flaring as his staples pull at his skin. The nickname, though a bit unoriginal, was in homage to that cute patchwork bear in Animal Crossing. He didn’t quite understand why you thought of him, seeing as the character was cute and cuddly, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Because he did.

“This tub is big enough for two people.” He says instead, pulling your hands away from his scalp, though the rhythmic circles against his skull were good enough to lull him into a peaceful sleep. He only ever got those when he was with you. He knew you couldn’t join him, he was probably sitting in the bath for far too long anyways. But there would always be a next time, and next time he’d do the same for you. Whisper sweet words into your skin when you thought he wasn’t listening, cup your cheeks with his large hands, press his palms against the softness of your skin when you get tense. But for now, he’d relish in your familiarity. You were his sanction.

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thenovelartist · 3 years

Text

Mistaken Drink; Drunk Mistake - Tears of Themis

Up next in the "Drunk Wedding" series, we have Artem. Enjoy ;D

When Artem woke up that morning, he was in a shocking amount of pain. He didn’t want to move despite the fact he knew he needed to get up for work.

Regrettably, he forced himself up into a sitting position, only to instantly feel nauseous. He was going to have to call in sick wasn’t he?

“Artem? Are you okay?”

The sweet voice rung in his ears. Before he could even place where he’d heard that voice before, he felt a cool hand on his back. It took him far too long to realize that said hand was touching his skin, making him realize he wasn’t in a shirt.

Why wasn’t he in a shirt? He always slept in a shirt.

However, before he could think too much about it, a new wave of nausea hit him. He braced himself against the headboard of his bed, leaning his forehead on his arms in hopes that the feeling would pass.

“Do you need water?” the voice asked. A lovely, sweet, feminine voice.

“No,” he muttered weakly.

There was a pause, in which time the intense symptoms faded to manageable levels

“Are you dizzy?” the feminine voice asked. “Do you want medicine?”

“No,” he replied.

However, now he was very curious as to who the owner of that voice was. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to know. So, pushing past the pain, he slowly lifted his head up to get a look at the person who was next to him.

Oh, it was his work partner.

That was the only thought he had before he felt sick again and buried his face back in his arms, blocking the light from seeping in.

And then the nausea hit him like a truck.

“Artem? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He couldn’t answer. But he most certainly was not.

…

Fifteen minutes later, after a bathroom break that turned into him emptying the contents of his stomach and feeling all the better for it, he was laying back on his bed, eyes closed and arms draped over his face to keep the light out. He was still shirtless at the moment, but that was less because of choice and more because he could barely move from his spot to the closet to grab one.

As for work, he was fortunate enough to have realized it was a weekend. He had time to recover.

He heard a set of footsteps enter his room, and despite knowing better, he opened his eyes to watch Rosa enter, glass of water in one hand and something else in the other.

With his headache, he draped his arms over his face again. While it was originally to keep the light out of his eyes, it also doubled to cover his blush. The question of “why she was in his house” had yet to be answered.

So did the question of “why she was in his shirt”. But he could only think on everything for so long before his headache warned him to calm down.

“I brought you some medicine,” Rosa said. The space beside him on the bed sank under her weight. And while he wanted to warn her that her being here in a bedroom with him, he wasn’t particularly in a position to speak at the moment, figuratively and literally. “Are you feeling better?”

He paused to think on it. “Possibly.”

“Possibly,” she whispered to herself. Despite being out of it, he could hear the resigned smile in her tone. “Do you need anything? Or just rest?”

Honestly, he needed a lot of things. Answers, specifically.

Slowly, he removed his arms from his head so he could open his eyes and see Rosa. The light still seemed over-bright, but it wasn’t as bad as before.

She gave him a smile, and suddenly, he felt warm all over again. “Good morning.”

His heart gave a funny leap in his chest. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Her expression fell to a concerned one. “For what?”

He wasn’t fully sure. Everything, maybe.

Yes, everything.

But before he could say it, she reached forward to brush his bangs back from his eyes, and words died in his throat. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

“For last night,” she said.

He pursed his lips together, trying to think of anything she had to be sorry about, but his memories seemed too hazy to recall anything. “To be frank,” he said, voice hoarse. “I can’t remember last night.”

When her eyes widened in surprise, it took him a long moment to realize it wasn’t the good kind. And when she smiled, it was tense, which caused his own stomach to tighten up again. “Well…” she began. “Um… you really can’t remember anything at all?”

He paused, trying long and hard to think back to last night. “We were at a party,” he answered. “For the firm.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “There was that.”

The more he thought on it, the more he could recall the scene. Themis Law Firm had decided to hold a party for its associates to celebrate a major court win for a big client. It had taken months of research and many staff members, but in the end, it had come out in their favor. It had been Celestine’s idea to throw a party for the sake of the employees, congratulating them and allowing them to have a moment to enjoy themselves.

Artem had been there, of course, enjoying the atmosphere and the company of Rosa, who had sat next to him at the bar while the others grew roudy around them.

But that was all he could recall.

“What happened after?” he asked, giving up his futile mission of recalling anything further.

“I think… my best guess is the bartender mixed up someone’s double-shot mixed drinks with your mocktails,” she answered.

Ahh, that would explain it. He grimaced, letting his eyes shut again as he dragged a tired hand over his face. How did he not catch that?

“Are you here because you helped me home?” he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“Well… I mean… yes,” she answered, hesitantly.

He opened his eyes again to look back up at her. “Why didn’t you go home?”

She turned bright red.

Oh no, that wasn’t his intention. He felt bashful just looking at her.

“I… kinda… was drunk myself,” she said, her blush not dying down as she turned her gaze away from him. “So, I fell asleep beside you.”

His face began to burn. Wait, she was beside him all night?

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her shirt which was actually his shirt which caused a second wave of embarrassment to crash down on him. “Sorry, I stole one of your shirts because my dress was stained from when someone fell and dumped a Bloody Mary on us. That’s why you’re shirtless, too. So you wouldn’t ruin your sheets. Which reminds me, are you cold? Do you want me to get you something?”

His mind had already come to a screeching halt hearing her explain, so starting it back up again so he could answer was a challenge. “I-I…”

Why was talking so hard?

“Yes.”

She gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll grab one for you.”

With that, she turned her back to him, and he covered his face with his hands, silently wishing he could die and save him from this mortification.

When she returned, she helped him sit up again, and he slid on the plain shirt she’d given him.

“Thank you, for caring for me,” he eventually said, trying his very best to pull himself together. “If you give me a moment, I can give you a jacket to cover your dress and call a cab for you.”

She froze. “Uh…” She seemed to struggle to find words before turning a strained smile on him. “Well… there’s… actually another reason I hadn’t left yet.”

Artem’s brow knit together in confusion., but his gut sank like a stone with worry.

“Because…” The smile she gave him was overly-exaggerated, which worried him deeply. “We should really talk about what to do about our wedding certificate.”

Artem froze, the words somehow eluding him for a moment before registering in his mind all at once.

“I’m sorry. Our what?”

…

It seemed drinking wasn’t the only thing he did last night.

It was mid-morning now, and he was sitting at the table holding his second cup of coffee while he stared at the document in front of him. And he still couldn’t believe it. Because not only had he and Rosa had decided to get married while they were drunk.

But Celestine witnessed.

This had to be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done and likely the most embarrassing thing he would do in his entire life.

“I’m pretty sure it’s legal,” Rosa said, taking a seat beside him. She was still in his shirt, slowly killing him at the sight of her in it, sipping on her own mug of coffee.

“It is,” he lamented. “Unfortunately.”

“You say that like being married to me is a bad thing.”

His heartrate skyrocketed as he struggled for words. “No! That’s not what I—”

Before he could finish, he took in the sight of her sniggering over her coffee mug. “I was just teasing.”

Despite that, he wasn’t fully able to relax. Because if given the opportunity, he’d love to be married to the woman beside him. However, that wasn’t likely, considering he couldn’t even so much as confess his feelings to this woman.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll start on the annulment, then. It should be granted easily seeing as we were both intoxicated at the time.”

“Do we have to, though?”

He froze, shocked, then confused. “What?”

She sighed. “Celestine warned me you were this dense,” she whispered under her breath.

While Artem was still processing those words, Rosa turned in her seat to face him head on, looking him straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Whatever Rosa proceeded to say was lost on Artem. He was frozen, completely caught off guard by such a confession. He… he’d thought she wasn’t interested. She never seemed to respond to his advances the way he’d anticipated she would. So why…

How…

He was so confused.

“And I know you try hard to get my attention,” she said, her words finally registering in his mind. “I thought we were getting closer, too. But…” She looked down, disappointment written all over her face. “I must have been wrong.”

“You love me?”

She turned her wide eyes back on him, and suddenly, she was smiling again. “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

…

Back at work, Artem was working on the annulment.

It was… disappointing, in a way. He and Rosa had had a long talk about a relationship between them and where they each saw it going, and what they landed on was marriage in the future. She’d suggested keeping the marriage certificate just in case. However, Artem was adamant that this would notbe how they married. So, annulment it was until they saw fit to come together, sober, as husband and wife.

Which, Artem hoped wouldn’t be too far off in the future.

“So, how’s married life?”

Artem looked up to see Celestine grinning down at him. He fixed her with a stern glare as he picked up the wedding certificate. “You actually witnessed this sham of a marriage?”

“I did!” she cried, grin never leaving her face. “It was a sight to behold. I’m so proud of you for making the first move and asking her to marry you, even if you were drunk when you did. Maybe you and alcohol do get along after all.”

Artem sighed, suddenly feeling quite tired. “And how sober were you for the thought of stopping us to not occur to you?”

“Oh, I was perfectly sober.”

Artem nearly dropped the document. “What?”

With a laugh, she winked at him. “By the way, Rosa istaking on your last name, right? So that I know to give her the proper change of name paperwork.”

Leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, Artem wondered if a hangover could reappear days after drinking. Because his head was sure spinning right about now.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #artem wing

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment.

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly.

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches.

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.”

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest.

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement.

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room.

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you.

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up.

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently.

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric?

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends.

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back.

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.”

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school.

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High.

Cut all ties now. You have two days.

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon.

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.”

“It’s none of your business, Zara.”

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders.

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym.

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle.

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left.

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand.

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning.

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door.

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks

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messwriting · 3 years

Text

THE SMUT PILE SECRET SANTA

Golden Eyes

Demon!Kuroo Tetsurou x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Note: HOE HOE HOE INDEED! HAHAHAHA

This is my secret santa gift for my dear elf Alisha -- @rivendell101! I do hope you enjoy, I just tried to channel all of Kuroo’s wicked energy into this and sprinkled it with our beloved monsterfucking. Sorry for all the questions, I just wanted to surprise you but also include only things you’d like. ;-; Hope you enjoy and MERRY SMUTMAS <3

Big thanks and lots of kisses to my dear Tay @deathcab4daddy who read this, betaed, and said it wasn't the train wreck I thought it was 😂🥺😘💕

Warnings: This is loosely inspired by the manhwa DEAR DOOR, by Pluto, from which the art above is also from (Satan is fucking hot)! Monsterfucking - Demon. Use of tongue and tail in a very uh naughty way. Magic makes you horny at some point (tho i don’t think is dub-con?), but just to be sure Magic Manipulation. Assplay with tongue and finger penetration. Denials, oh so many denials. Sprinkle of spanking. Soft pain play. Overstim. Oral sex. Rough sex. CHOKING. BITING. MARKING. Demon uhhhh lure? aijaisajisj He’s seducing you with his devilish powers. CORRUPTION. RELIGIOUS BLASPHEMY (sorry jesus).

Word count: ~7.4k. I can’t write anything short, why?!

“So… you’re a demon?” You ask, weirdly not completely panicking over the fact that this brick wall of a man showed up out of nowhere in the middle of your living room as if this were just another Sunday night. The stranger smiles your way with a lopsided grin and the shivers that run through your body seem to support his affirmation.

“Did the horns give it away?” The dark-haired demon asks, with a smile that could make him the single male model of some sin’s propaganda. Your eyes flick to his tail, long and thick, moving calmly in waves behind him, and come up to the unbelievably wide black wings sprouting from his back and threatening to blow a hole in your ceiling.

“Sure,” You say while your eyes come back to his face, taking a second look at the long, twisted black horns sprouting from his high forehead and mixing with his thick raven hair. “Let’s say it’s the horns.”

He snickers but his golden stare is very much sharp on you. Even before it pinned you in place you had found that your legs had begrudgingly refused to move in front of the massive presence in your living room.

“You’re an interesting little thing, aren’t you?” He muses out loud, his arms crossing in front of his body while one hand cradles his own face while he looks down at you. The gold irises glint in the dark like a beacon, the small crystal-like black pupil like that of a wild animal. “Normally people would have been screaming by now. Or passing out. Maybe running.” He doesn’t move from where he stands, but his sentient tail floats over to you, lightly caressing the side of your face as a child stroking their pet; it moves under your chin, over your jaw and cheekbone, pats your hair back, and comes to circle your throat.

It doesn’t squeeze -- but the threat is pretty much clear.

“I don’t think my legs can move.” You tell him in a breathless voice, panic eating away at the corners of your sanity the more you stare at the insanity in front of you. A monstrosity of man with a tail and wings to crown it swaying in your living room as if it’s all okay, as if this is real life. You shudder in place, a whole-body wave of dread that moves along your body and makes you tremble as all the hair on your being stands in place. He grins down at you, wicked and pretty, a cheshire air of mischief in the way his golden irises glint in the dark background of his eyes and mingle with the dim lit room to go with the roll of white pearls of sharp-looking teeth in his mouth.

“Am I dreaming?” Your thoughts escape from your lips in a breath as his tail grounds you to reality, burning hot and heavy around your neck. It contrasts awkwardly with the image in front of you, which your brain keeps trying to deny as true, but the weight of his tail pulls you from the edge of disbelief and pins you in place, your limbs turning cold as you feel unable to move. “Or am I going insane, somehow?”

“Do you think your brain is failing you, little one?”

“Well, seems like the logical reason why there’s a winged man in my living room. With horns and-- a tail.” Your voice stops and you gulp right before your eyes snap once again to his devilish black and golden eyes. “Wait. Are you a demon? Is… a demon in my living room?” The more you speak the least sense it makes. The thing in front of you seems to be very amused by the twinges of panic and disbelief coloring your voice and expression. “Why?”

He smirks and his wings do a fluttering thing before they curve inside his back, two massive black things even when they’re closed. “Must be your lucky day.”

You snort even through your scared haze. “Not exactly what one thinks when considering demons.”

“Ah, bad rep.” Kuroo says and he floats as if he’s sitting on a chair, his legs crossing as he supports an elbow on his thigh and his face on his hand. It’s both parts unnerving and enthralling, and you’re struck with the fact of how big he is once again. “God’s marketing team is hella good. We get the rep for everything going on now-- the crops died? Oh, the devil. Psycho kid? Demoniac. Fucked up government? Send from hell. Sex? Devilish.” He sighs, his pretty lips jutting in a pout as his beautiful face falls into a tired mask. “It’s tiresome to be the poster-boys to all things wicked.”

“Well, seems like you do the part just fine.” You hide yourself through some small sarcasm, as you grumble the remark.

“Hah.” His sharp teeth flash in the dark at the barked laugh, a gasped sound as if he truly found your remark funny. “We get used to it,” He nods your way and then shrugs, a never-leaving smirk on his lips. “And I like the style.”

“Sure,” you say, despite the clear unconvinced tone of your voice as your eyebrows shut up slowly, eating the distance from your hairline until you blink and tiptoe around your next words, “not to be rude, Mr. Demon--”

“Call me Kuroo.” He cuts you off charmingly, as one would in flirting; a playful arch in his brows as his smile spreads just that bit more over his face. You just now realize the appeasing traces of it, the sharp angle of his jaw, the high of his square cheekbones, and the elegant line of his nose; then your eyes fly over the protruding circles of his horns, and your eyes go round almost involuntarily.

“Okay…” It breaches your lips along with a puff of breath. You blink a few times before continuing, still doubting your own eyes as they thread over the massive monster in front of you. You wonder if he’d look better if he’s bent to your height, but then again that wouldn’t do much about those broad shoulders, engulfing your wall where he stands. “Not to be rude, Mr. Kuroo, but…” you steady yourself with a deep breath before continuing, your hand flying to press against your eyes before you can reopen then and see the exact same thing from before -- a demon in your house. “What the fuck you’re doing here, exactly?”

He smiles, pleased with your cussing, apparently. Then his eyes turn focused, predatory, and they’re locked on you.

“I’ve come to offer a deal, little one.”

“A deal?” You parrot, lost in the pull of those golden eyes.

“Yes,” Kuroo smirks, lips splitting unnaturally over sharp canines. He keeps floating in his position, face supported on a big, clawed, hand. “And a quite good one, too.”

“You… You’re at my home, to offer me a deal, right after the small rant on Devil’s bad marketing.” You list the things, doubt thick in your voice.

Kuroo smiles, but it looks wrong. “Yes, dear.”

“Okay,” You risk, though it comes out as a question. Kuroo seems pleased, though. “Go ahead, I guess?”

“I need something from you.”

“Oh shit, is this the soul thing?” Your eyes widened again, hands coming to stand protectively in front of you even as you doubt you could do much to fend him off if he wanted to do you harm. “I’ve seen Supernatural, I’m not selling my fucking soul okay?!”

“Chill, kitten, I don’t really mind your soul.” He’s rather nonchalant, golden eyes completing a circle along his eyeballs before they fall once again on you while Kuroo comes out from his floating position to pace calmly over to you. Then, his sharp teeth split his face wickedly in two, an alluring characteristic in the way his lips form an overconfident grin as he bends over you in your place on the couch. “It’s your body I’m interested in.”

“My… body?”

“Have you ever heard of hell portals?” His face engulfs your line of vision as his tail angles your head back to look up at him, a clawed finger gliding over your jawline at that.

“No? Should I? Who do you think I am to know about hell doors?” It happens again, your thoughts slipping through your lips at the same rate as you think them, the sarcastic tone of your mind also dripping out much as if that had been your intention all along.

He seems rather happy at that, too.You wonder if he’s prying the truth from you somehow. “Well, you’re one.”

“What?” You ask, stupidly, as his face gets further from you and he straightens back into his full height.

“A door, to hell.” Kuroo finishes, cheerfully. It looks, once again, wrong on his face, as if it's more of a threat than a joke.

The seconds pass by as falling rocks over metal, loud and rattling, a restless moment in which you keep staring at the monster --demon-- face and even as his horns stay in place and his curved wings twitch, it stills feels wholly detached from reality; an insane, out of this plane moment in which you doubt your whole being - your eyes and your ears and your brain and your skin, where the weight and warmth of his tail still surrounds your neck.

“Now I know I’m losing my mind.” You murmur to yourself as you can’t make peace between reality and, well, this reality.

“Ah, you humans are such disbelievers. I’m here in front of you, saying you’re a portal, and you still doubt your own eyes as if they’re the origin of your offense.” Kuroo mocks you, crossing his arms in front of his body and for a second your eyes linger on the blackness of his clawed hands, the weird way they’re shaped as if something is enveloping them, elongating claws on the point of his fingers with the color of a moonless night. Still, the acidic tone in his voice makes you perk up with infuriating annoyance, and it seeps from you at the same rate as it fills you.

“Well, sorry if it’s hard for me to believe I’m a fucking hell portal.” You sass him, fiery eyes closing on gold. It’s even more annoying that he smiles through your taunt. “Ten minutes ago I didn’t even believed in hell.”

“You can keep doubting if you want. Aren’t you doing so even when you see me here? All I need is passage and then you’ll be free to doubt once again,” his eyes glow brighter as he closes in on yours in a way that has you swaying in place, a vexatious air around him that’s unmistakable; but then again he is a demon, so maybe that’s just the norm. “That is… if you want.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the promise in his voice, and your own trembles when you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That this can be a one-time thing -- or not.”

You blink, a bit lost.

“What’s this, exactly?” Your brain pulses in pain at the quantity of information it has to make sense and still try to understand. It’s too much and soon you’re pressing your hands on your face in frustration, “Dude, you’re not making sense.”

“It’s easy.” Kuroo says and suddenly you’re yanked up by thin air, floating in front of his fingers at his will as he twirls your body in the air as if you’re some sick kind of roulette. “Inside you, there’s a portal. I’ll activate it, and go to hell. In exchange, I’ll give you something.” As he speaks, clawed hands slowly and maliciously thread over the valley of your breasts and then down your middle, his golden eyes like a lighthouse to your wandering attention. “Something I know you desire, but you may not even know so. May not even accept yourself.” As his fingers approach the appex of your sex, you’re rounded in the air abruptly and set right on your feet in front of him, safe and sound and dizzy, feeling like prey to those eyes. “It may be this single time, or, if you accept my deal, it can be more.”

You breathe some big gulps of air before speaking in a wavering voice, “Something I wish? And you won’t tell me what that would be?”

“Essentially, you know. You just may be in… denial.” His eyes flash that golden glint once again, twirling molten pools of liquid sun on his face. Their constant, slow motion never-ending circles seeping inside your consciousness, making your mind blank, slowly flowing into a haze in which you feel lost but safe; warmth flowing from it over you as if you’re being dipped in melted honey, weighted down but comfortable, as moving against warm waves in a tropic beach.

It tips from your mouth as you’re swimming in the molten pools of gold, pulled out from your body as the warm breath from your lungs, heated and pliant. “Okay.”

The spell crashes as his grin spreads through his face, the self-satisfied smirk of a cat who got its prey. Just as you’re burning in embarrassment and ready to cancel whatever that was you just said yes to, a sudden wave of warmth spreads from your face to your feet, your hair undulating at the force it hits you, and travelling so quickly you can feel the way your toes curve while a buzz crosses them, a pleasant but foreign thrill settling in your bones. You send him a nasty glare.

“The fuck have you done to me?”

“Me? Nothing, kitten.” Kuroo tells you but everything from his expression, to his stance and the fucking satisfied smirk he sports tell you it’s a lie. Your glare turns worse. His lips are curved up in a telling manner but he concedes with a tilt of his head. “I just lowered your inhibitions, relax.”

“Why would you do that?” The questions zap from your mouth just as you think it, and in a fleeting thought you wonder if that isn’t exactly what he meant.

“I told you, I’m going to give you what you want.” Kuroo says as he stops in front of you, a sexy, powerful sway in the way he moves and towers over you that you can’t help but appreciate. “But I need you to accept your darker wishes,” It’s a murmur, raspy in his deep voice, and you breathe the words in as the indecent, luscious feeling swell inside your being and seems to find it’s home in your chest-- and drip from your sex. “And then embrace me.”

“I don’t want you.” You tell him, but it comes breathless, weak, and as Kuroo’s golden eyes pierce yours, you can feel as he pinpoints your lie.

“Then let’s change that, shall we?”

He wastes no time in maneuvering you into his arms, pulling you through thin air until his feral hands close around your middle and neck. Kuroo tilts your head back while grazing a single clawed finger over your pulse-point and up to your jawline, and then his breathing comes loud and misty against your bared skin.

“Wait--” You plead as your breath comes in long puffs and when you wet your lips before continuing, a freakishly long, wet and hot tongue comes to lick a big stripe of your skin and you yelp loudly, “-- the fuck!”

Kuroo, on the other hand, literally hums approvingly and brings his nose to glide over your skin, soft breathing as his hands pull you closer into his massive chest. You realize now, at the proximity, just how big and broad he is, somehow between terrifying and uncanningly acceptable.

His body runs hot, the temperature difference between yours quite clear when your skin feels so heated by his touch, clothes you found nice now feeling constricting the more of you that touches him.

The planes of his chest are hard and toned, lean muscle and strength as he moves you up without effort, your feet dangling way above the ground and still no hint of struggle as he supports your weight. As you get closer, those yellow irises centered in black globes seem to pry inside your mind, big and all encompassing; it makes something coil in your chest, much like panic but tame as agitation.

“Wait--” You breathe out and look down, shocked at the distance you found yourself from the ground. Something crawls from your chest as a distressed groan, “I--”

Kuroo tilts your head back and -- not without sending you a smirk -- delves down to close your lips together.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this -- you’re swept away by the kiss, amazed at how well your mouths work together, how perfectly plush and soft his thin lips feel on yours, how pleasing the motions of his tongue are against yours, how tasteful his movements are, and before long, you’re breaking the kiss but because you need to breathe, to pull some air inside yourself to battle the haze settling in your mind.

It does nothing to aid you though.

Your body feels achingly flushed, avid, weirdly pliant and it is with mild surprise that you feel yourself drooling inside your panties. Something tells you to be indignant, to kick him, to bite and claw, but instead you’re sighing the weakest of noises, spiralling back to his expert lips, falling deeper inside the slow seduction that this demon offers.

Kuroo moves you calmly, his big, searing hot hands threading across your body and working goosebumps in it’s trail even as all he does is touch you over your clothes. Your hands, previously abandoned by the side of your body start to move up his body, spreading your small palms over his chest, and instead of pushing him off, you’re pulling him closer, opening your mouth wider, your legs hiking over his side as if you’re begging for the moment he’ll pick you up.

“Hmm, what a nice little thing you are.” Kuroo murmurs over your lips, taking in the wrecked expression you sport with just a kiss. “So honest, too.” His claws glide over your thigh, hiked on his side. It doesn’t hurt, but the feeling of something sharp sliding against your skin makes your heart rate pick up and your panties grow wetter.

“You’ll like this too, kitten, don’t worry.” His syrupy voice enchants you as he hooks a razor-sharp claw on the side of your shorts, threads up slowly and precise until the ripping sound breaks through your haze. When you look down, your hooded eyes turn wide, taking in the fact he just ripped your shorts and how easily they slide to the ground once they’re free from your hiked leg. The panties stay, but they’re not exactly much.

“Hey!” You turn to look up at him, puffed cheeks in indignation, and one of his hands yanks your head back, angling your body in a arch as his other hand glides over your thigh to your lower belly, sharp thumb swiftly climbing up your body and with such, ripping your comfy t-shirt. The feeling of something scratching along your middle and the valley of your breasts make your breathing catch up on your lungs, too afraid it will press enough to hurt if you move. You never knew a menace could be this seductive.

Still, the anticipation coils inside you, pours from between your legs as your skin feels too small to hold all the feelings cursing to you, your breasts heavy and your lips falling open in a breath that Kuroo drinks from your lips, attentive and dedicated as his tongue comes out and slides over your lips.

His eyes glint in the dark, sharp and focused.

“You know what? I think I’ll like you.”

The air feels cold on your heated skin, especially when he holds you so close. Small trembles pass through your frame as you melt inside his kiss, falling deeper inside the pleasure he offers you and Kuroo barely started. Your nipples perk up without attention and when his rough palm rolls over them, their new-found sensitivity makes it impossible for you to not let out a sound. It’s something meek and surprised, but Kuroo seems proud of it and decided to pull more out of you.

Magically, you’re yanked up, floating until your middle is at the height of his neck.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Your head is millimeters from hitting the ceiling, your hands touching it as a way to protect yourself, you throw a nasty glare down at his face just for him to make a half-circle in the air and your upper body be launched behind.

“No!” You’re laying on thin air -- your heart beating so fast your blood pulses in your head as you look over your shoulder and notices just how impossible is the situation going on, where you’re levitating a few meters from the ground.

If he stops now, would you go down crashing? Would you die from such a fall? Questions swirl in your mind enough for you to forget whats going on - the way a sharp claw swiftly cuts the side of your panties - until something wet, firm and long prods on your dripping folds.

“What--” Your first action is to hitch your neck up so you can confirm that it is what you think it is, and, granted, Kuroo is slowly prying you open, his huge tongue threading on your most sensitive parts. As he laps a long stripe down your pussy, he looks up at you in flashing gold, seeming extremely pleased.

Kuroo winks at you, depraved.

Your blood is rushing through your veins at such a haste that you feel dizzy, and your whole body is fervent as something very loud breaks through your lips as Kuroo’s tongue moves and presses on your slit, circles your clit, and moves in serpentine movements along your puffy cunt.

You didn’t realize before how the texture of his tongue was a bit rugged but now you’re suffering the full extent of its benefits as he eats you out sloppily, enough that you’re dripping down on the carpet as his monstrously long and dexterous tongue plays with your cunt as if that’s his sole mission on earth. Kuroo hums against your clit, makes your whole body tremble with it, and at some point, he manages to press his tongue flat against your clit and still reach enough that it dips softly inside your entrance, slowly and deliciously prying the inner ring of your sex open, then broader.

You can’t help the noises falling from your lips and when one of his rough, clawed hands close around your breast, the pressure inside you peaks and you’re panicking at how close you are to your first orgasm, from his tongue alone, at an impossible long and sentient… demon tongue.

But he retreats just as your mouth falls open, your throat constricted by the scream that instead becomes an indignated gasp. “Fuck--! I was--”

“Hmmm, I know.” Kuroo answers you, his hands coming to hold your thighs open as you tremble from the effort. His thumb pulls your cunt lips apart and his golden eyes glint, fierce and pleased at the same time. “Aren’t you an interesting plaything? Skyrocketing into pleasure head first when I was just getting a taste.” He licks his lips, his canines making an appearance as his ridiculous long tongue cleans his face and chin where your juices have leaked to.

His grin should be illegal. “Delicious, by the way. But I’m not ready to end this so fast.”

“End this… fast?” You ask, still having difficulty in thinking straight when you’re floating up in the air with your legs spread open in front of his face, his thumbs spreading you open as if you’re his meal and he likes to play before eating.

“Maybe we should go somewhere more comfortable.” Kuroo muses out loud and before you can blink you’re falling, screaming in your surprise until you bounce on the comfortable cushion of your bed. The air is knocked out of you in a oof, but Kuroo just looks down at you happily, his smile still looking mischievous as if that’s his whole personality trait.

You know what, maybe it is.

“Warn a girl.” You tell him, and he winks your way, just as he pulls your naked body to the edge of the bed.

“Consider yourself warned: i’m about to eat you up.”

His massive hands engulf you and arch your body into his eager mouth, where his tongue lavish at your sex in a way that has you feeling as if they everywhere and at the same time. The muscle is thick and long, firm as it presses from your entrance to your clit, as it rounds your sensitive spot and slithers down through your pussy lips, slurping it with his lips as his wicked tongue never stops its prodding.

One of his hands circles your body, closes around your breast and tweeks your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, painfully, deliciously, something obscene curling inside you at the way the feelings mix, the pain and the bliss and it doesn’t help that Kuroo moves his mouth to the sensitive and fragile skin of your inner thighs and build a whole trail of bite marks and throbbing hickeys.

Something firm, large and hot slither up your body, circling a breast but finding it’s home at a circle around your neck -- his tail -- and the more vocal you become, the more it seems to close around your throat, your heart beating on your fingertips as they claw at anything of Kuroo’s you can reach, hazy and breathless at the way he discloses your wicked desires so plainly, the way his every move seems to discover layer after thick layer of temptations that you have hidden so deep with partners before.

“Such a pretty little thing you are,” Kuroo coos to you when he presses a thick finger past the tight ring of your cunt. “So honest and eager,” It moves, prods, another one joins and soon they’re scissoring against your walls, opening your tender flesh so he can sink himself in further.

The mere thought has you moaning out loud -- unbelievable and yet, you feel how your arousal drips from your cunt to your thighs.

“Ahhhh~” Kuroo exhales as his tongue laps a long stripe of your juices. “So pure.” He says against your pussy lips, kissing them and then letting his long tongue slide further until it prods between the cheeks of your ass, immediately falling into circular motions on the furl of muscle. You yelp but midway it becomes an embarrassing moan. “This just makes me wanna ruin you more.”

It’s too much -- he has to know it’s too much, and as Kuroo curves his fingers just right inside your sloppy cunt and his tongue breaches just the tiniest bit the resistance of your ass, your eyes are falling open in huge plates, a long moan of his name on your tongue as you’re so close to cumming you can practically taste the high already.

“No, not now.” Kuroo chastises you as he retreats his tongue and fingers from you, the arch of your body ready to snap curling in a tremble of a denied release.

“Too soon, kitten. I want to savor this.” His tone comes out between pleased and patronizing, and it makes your cunt clench, empty.

You heave, unfocused eyes blinking the wicked golden away. “What--” A deep breath. “What do you want from me?”

“Wrong question, kitten.” Kuroo tells you just as his massive frame bends over you, the wicked eyes seducing you in once again -- not that they ever stopped. “Now that I got a taste,” He murmurs practically against your lips, and you lick where his breath hits, captivated, “I want all of you.”

He lets you fall on the bed once again and maneuvers your body without difficulty until your ass is high in the air and your thighs are spread, his tail lighter around your throat, fondly slithering on your jaw. His knee presses on the mattress until it squeaks and his hands massage from your thighs to your ass, prying it open and kneading it with hard, powerful hands.

“Beautiful.” He praises you and you swear your pussy throbs and flutters hard enough to make a gushing noise. By the way Kuroo snickers, it may be true.

His tongue is the first thing you feel right after his laboured breathing on your cunt. It pries you open, thick muscle sliding inside you, big and wet and dexterous and you’re moaning against the mattress in seconds.

Kuroo seems pleased even though all he does is hum, his large hands press on your back and the other opens your cheeks wide for his assault. Something hot prods your asshole, and you’re surprised at how careful his fingers can be while maneuvering the wetness left by his tongue there. They move slowly but surely as he presses and retreats, opening you from two fronts and still seemingly not enough.

He decides to change, his tongue coming out of your sex and then sliding to your ass as his thumbs open your lips for him to watch as he dips two big fingers inside your cunt. The stretch, the massive pleasure of being assaulted by both ends make you clench and cream around his digits, once again climbing up the familiar euphoric road.

This time, however, Kuroo stops you differently.

His hard, heavy hand falls on your ass cheeks forcefully in what must be his intention of being light. You yelp loudly and groan, somehow caught between winding down and flying right over the edge.

“Oh, hoho~” Sounds from his voice and he descends his hand once again on your ass, heavy and startling. It sounds so loud and so lewd in the empty room, your whole being burns in place, trembling from the effort of holding yourself in all fours and the pure elation growing inside you, spreading from your fingertips to the depraved center of your being.

As the sting settles in your senses, it winds down your orgasm but makes a renewed wave drip from your cunt and down your thigh. You’re surprised at how it excites you, the pain, but fuck it still stings. His hand falls on your ass a couple more times but then his hot palms knead the stinging flesh, an exquisite feeling spreading over you as it throbs and burns and you melt.

“Ugh! Fuck!” You groan, biting the mattress, unable to tell him to stop and too embarrassed to tell him to keep going.

“You really are a nice plaything, aren’t you?” Kuroo asks but it seems as if it's more for himself, his digits collecting your wetness as he dips once again inside your cunt, spreading his fingers apart and sliding a third inside just as his thumb circles your clit lightly and you howl, sensitive and wanton, too eager into tasting bliss.

This time, at least you’re half-conscious he’s not letting you cum. Kuroo stops, leaving you clenching for something, anything and gives you nothing. His immoral smirk seems to sound in the air, much as the way his tail leaves your throat to circle your hair and yank you back, stuffing your open mouth with the fingers that were just inside you. You lap obediently at them and he groans in your ear, teeth nibbling at your skin. It’s almost as if he’s tempted.

“We’re almost ready, kitten.” He tells you with a hoarse voice, all sin and flames, “Hold on.”

“Ready?” You question poorly with a mouth stuffed of fingers, but he understands and nods your way, his tongue licking the spit that starts dripping from the corner of your mouth at how broad his fingers open it.

You don’t see if Kuroo undress or if he just magically gets naked behind you, the startling thing being the incredible feeling of his hot skin on yours, the dazzling feeling of his hard planes of muscle on your back, the sublime sight of his skin marked by faint scars; When you feel the scalding, throbbing thick member at the side of your thigh, however, you have to look back.

“Oh my God,” You murmur at the sight of his cock. It’s proportional to his form, but that just means it’s ridiculously big, a veiny, swollen thing that seems looming as it stands close to you, and it clicks in your slow mind just what he meant by almost ready.

“Nope, I’m on the other team here.” Kuroo grins at you as he turns you with your back on the bed, spreads you on the cushion until your thighs hurt from the effort. His tail sways behind him as if to paint a scene, and you realize his wings are nowhere to be seen now, “Though I do think it’s some kind of poetic justice to have you screaming and blaspheming jesus while I fuck you silly.”

The higher part of your cheekbones alights with flames at the implication and you gasp back the words you planned on speaking when Kuroo’s hand pivots your lower back up to his mouth and closes his efforts on your neglected clit as his freak thick tongue enters you in one go.

You cannot explain the sensation of such a soft muscle invading your walls, or the way in which it seems to focus so expertly on your weak spots, but you’re too wound up not to fall head first into rapture.

When he stops this time, you actually curse him, in the most wrecked sound that has ever left your lips.

“Ughhhhhhh--Fuck you!”

The bastard laughs, debauched, then deposits a kiss over your pussy as his golden eyes fix on you. “Now you’re ready.”

Kuroo adjusts until you’re both at the bed, pulling you up on his powerful thighs until his cock bounces over your navel and reaches way too high for you to actually be calm. But then he retreats his hips, bent over you so his lips can steal the air from your lungs just as his large hand palms at your breasts and his tail slither by your side.

“Try not to cum too fast, kitten.”

“Easier said than done,” you grumble back against his lips and let yourself fall into the ruthless ecstasy of being spread open on his cock. His lips thread on the side of your jaw, under your neck, biting and sucking on your skin as his hands divide themselves between holding you up and pawing at every bit of you they can reach.

Everything feels so good, as if he knows your inner thoughts by hint alone -- your toes curl at each newfound area that receives his onslaught, you’re contorting at how good his mouth feels on your pulsepoint as he slowly starts to sink his cock inside you. It’s a weird feeling, to feel so full and yet still so eager, but you’re welcoming him at each torturous inch he manages to squeeze inside your tight walls. Your body trembles from the effort, Kuroo’s tongue slides from your neck to your nipple as his hand climbs up and settles around your throat, his fingers enveloping your neck.

Your heart picks up enough that you feel it beating on your ears as you search for his eyes and finally you’re pinned in place under the sharp gold and their twisted intent.

“Scream for god if you want me to stop.” Is the warning he gives you before his fingers start constricting around your neck, your airways blocked as your chest starts to heave. And in between the small twinge of anxiousness and alarm, you realize just how much that entices you, how much it makes you burn and crave. Somehow you feel corrupted, falling into desires that threaten to peel you apart and leave you exposed.

Kuroo’s cock keeps slowly stretching your insides and his tongue twirls your nipple, your lungs burning for air and your eyes rolling inside your skull as you skyrocket into blissful free-fall.

“Oh, hell yes.” You listen but don’t register as your body seems to be crushed under the massive pressure of your climax, burning and bright, sound ringing in your head that you come to find out it’s from your hoarse moan, your breathing laboured as Kuroo allows you to suck in air during your peak.

It dawns on you as you’re coming back to your body that theres a twinge of soft pain indicating Kuroo has bottomed out, his muscular thighs pressing flush against yours, the feeling incredible but fuck so much right now.

As Kuroo nestles himself entirely inside of you, you feel as if your focus shifts, the task to not concentrate all of your attention on the massive hot cock spliting you in two is difficult. Your body feels tight, and not just from your fluttering walls that are constricting around him.

Kuroo sends you a big smile above your head, twinkling eyes in the dark. “Now, hold on.”

You do your best to do so, your arms latching onto him with all the strength you can muster as his hips retreat and then slam back inside you. You’re jolted at each push and pull, the sensual motions so depraved as the noises echo in the room, and you’re dragged into the ferocious pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you, and despite the fact you’ve cum just few moments before, as his tail slides between your bodies and circles and pats at your clit, you’re screaming and, quite unbelievably, cumming again.

“Now we’re very ready.” Kuroo says in a grunt above you, shameless grin as his eyes do their golden thing once again. He lets you stop trembling, peppering small kisses along your collarbone until you’re breathing normally again, but something tells you you’re just being fooled.

“What?” You tiredly question, the feeling of dread confirming your suspicion.

“We have the whole night ahead of us, little one.” Kuroo nudges at the side of your face, bites softly at the junction of your jaw. “Or we could have more. All you need to do is say yes and i’ll mark you nice and easy here--” His teeth softly nibble on your pulsepoint, “and you’ll be mine.”

“Oh, god.”

“Haha, wrong again.” His eyes pierce yours, swirling gold as molten honey dripping over your body and weighting your mind down. “Go ahead, tell me what you want.”

It tips out, softly and raw, and you have to close your eyes to hide your emotion. “To belong.”

“Oh, my little thing.” Kuroo softly murmurs on your ear, “Belong to me, then.”

You’re swaying despite lying down, something big and heavy coiling inside your chest as you blink, “I don’t want to belong to someone who isn’t mine.”

It’s a big truth to leave out -- the need for companionship, but a mutual one, a lasting one, a trusting one. You don’t want to be alone, but you also don’t want to have someone who doesn’t belong to you, too.

Kuroo just smiles, golden eyes on yours, melting you from the fierceness alone. “Exactly,” he speaks against your lips, the taste of his breath on your tongue and you eagerly gulp it down, wickedly licking at his lips. “But i’ll be yours, too.”

In your hazed state, that’s all you need to hear, so you just shyly nod -- and Kuroo growls, angles your head to the side, and sears a marking bite on your neck -- deep, and painful. You mewl, body arching into his touch, and his tongue laps at the fresh wound, making it nice and numb.

“Now, let’s go to the main course.” Kuroo gives you no rest, retreating his hips and slamming back inside. “Don’t forget to breathe!” He teases between your moans.

Once the fucking starts, it’s a frantic mess, and it goes on forever until the mere feeling of Kuroo’s cock leaving your heat is enough to make you whimper at the loss. The feeling of him inside your walls, a thing that mingles with your being, seares your memory until you cannot remember the feeling of not being split open on his thick cock. As you melt away from the overstimulation of having no rest while Kuroo contently and incessantly keeps pistoning inside you, your painful pleasure mixes until you’re climbing into something that feels weirdly uncanny, your mind -- or is it your body? -- twirls inside itself as if there’s something more than just sweet release ready to burst out.

Kuroo has made you both teeter on the edge of pleasure and fall into it so many times you can’t differentiate the feelings that come now, this sensation of something being pulled out of you like the many orgasms he caused.

“Hmmm… Yes, my time is coming.” Kuroo groans, his hips movements turning sloppy, apparently displeased with his fucking being cut short while you very much suck a thankful breath at being able to rest. Kuroo’s teeth descend on your neck once again, his hot tongue over the pulsating mark of his bite and you feel him shudder and groan your name as he finally - finally - peaks, the feeling of hot spurts spreading inside you.

As he cums, Kuroo brings a finger to rub over your abused clit softly and between your oversensitivity and the fact he angles his fat cockhead to softly pound over your sweet spot as he sails his own climax, there’s very little you can do but be ripped apart in bliss, once again, by him. This time is weird. Even as pleasure keeps swirling inside you and building up with the eerie sensation, you can do very little but hold on and wait until the waves crash and pass and you can blissfully surrender into the darkness of exhaustion.

However, the freakish sensation twirling inside yourself builds and builds until you’re light-headed from the feeling and you just then realize how you’re shining, and how Kuroo has disappeared.

You don’t even have it in yourself to panic. Your body feels heavy and used, spent in the best way possible, but still completely unused to such a frantic session as every muscle in your being throbs, and your eyelids weigh the world as they fall closed and you’re engulfed by darkness.

[bonus scene]

When you wake up in the morning, you are engulfed in a nice blanket, dressed in some mismatched set of pajamas, feeling as if you just had the best sleep of your life - and a weird vivid dream to go with it. You’re blinking up to your ceiling, stretching on your bed and satisfied with how the knots break in small noises as you sit up, when you feel just how sore you are, how your body is heavy despite satisfied, how your thighs burn and your sex throbs.

Everything crashes up on your mind way too fast, and you’re suddenly torn between passing out and bolting up, but as you try to get up your body falters and a big, hard, hot hand plants itself over your middle and pulls you right back at the bed.

Of course, you scream.

“Shh, kitten, there’s people trying to sleep here, y’know?”

“What--How--What are you doing here?” You shriek, looking at what is definitely the demon you thought you dreamed, but in a way more humanized version if the absence of his horns, claws and massive wings are anything to go by. The golden eyes are sharp as ever, but no black background to them, and you can infer by that much that his sinful tail probably isn't around too.

The grin he sends your way gives you war flashbacks that make your skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Well, yesterday was quite nice.” He tells you and you can feel your whole face burn from his tone alone. “So I decided that hell can wait a bit more while I have more fun with you.” His eyes flash with a weird energy, and Kuroo brings his fingers to glide over his bite mark at your neck. The throbbing mark you had forgotten about until now. “After all, you’re mine now.”

“Oh, fuck.”

You’re doomed.

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader smut #kuroo smut #tw monsterfucking #haikyuu smut

1K notes · View notes

zodiakuroo · 3 years

Text

copycat

18+, eren jaeger x fem!reader

part two of pierced

inspired by the 'big stick' scene from jawbreaker (iykyk)

wc: 3.7k

contains: mild dubcon, light dom/sub, ball play, choking, dumbification, degradation, spit, creampie

Eren can’t help but admire you from the doorway of your shared bedroom. One would think, that after 30 days of edging, you would learn not to be such a fucking tease. But here you are flitting around the kitchen in nothing but one of his t-shirts and a frilly pair of lilac panties.

‘Stop being a perv. It’s hot out.’ You don’t have to say it. The ‘you’ in his head is already chastising him for the lascivious nature of his thoughts.

The ‘you’ in his head is also already bent over the granite top counter, panties long discarded, presenting yourself to him, begging ‘Please Eren. Fuck me.’

He can’t help it. Everyday he’s found himself face to face with your cute little pussy, absolutely begging to get filled and not being able to do anything about it. It’s not his fault that when he sees you wearing next to nothing, he just wants to stick his cock in you.

Except it’s entirely his fault.

That’s why even though you can feel the weight of his stare as you move around the kitchen, you don’t even spare a glance in his direction.

If there’s one thing these last few weeks have taught you, its willpower. And thanks to your newfound self-discipline you’re able to resist the urge to pounce on him when your boyfriend pulls your back against the solid wall of his chest. “Baby.” He rasps. “I’m all healed up.”

The statement makes goosebumps appear on your skin despite the sweltering heat but other than that, you show no signs of exactly how pent up you are.

Eren made you swear not to touch yourself whining about how unfair it would be and how he would really appreciate your support in his hour of need. Yes he used those exact words. You kept your promise but not without intending to receive payback. It was only a matter of how. The idea hadn’t come to you yet.

“Really?” You don’t even bother to turn around, pushing past him. Partly as a way to tease him but also because you don’t trust yourself to be able to resist him once you get a good look at him. From his scent alone you can tell he’s fresh from a shower and that’s when he’s the most dangerous. He smells cool and fresh like his shower gel, spicy and warm like his aftershave and fruity and floral like his your shampoo. It’s hypnotic.

The trance is broken when he pulls you even closer to him, grinding his bulge into your backside.

“Stop buying that 2-in-1 shit if you’re gonna use mine all the time anyways.” You grumble.

Right.

Revenge first. Dick second. The voice in your head reminds you.

You wriggle out of his hold, remembering why you came into the kitchen in the first place. You breathe a sigh of relief as you open the freezer door, the cold air providing a brief reprieve from the near suffocating heat of your apartment. Once you’ve obtained your target; a cherry popsicle hidden behind some ice packs and frozen peas, you finally take a look at your tormentor.

“Babe c’mon.” Eren persists.

He looks good. Unfairly good considering the fact that he’s not even trying. Fresh from the shower, he has on a worn out white t-shirt, stretched around the neckline which gives you a mouthwatering look at his perfectly sculpted collarbones and no more than the top of his pecs that peak out above the seam. His grey athletic shorts hang low on his hips and outline his print a little too well so you know he’s not wearing boxers. Eren hasn’t bothered to tie up his long hair leaving the damp tendrils dangling above his shoulders with a few stray strands framing his handsome face. He’s putting up a nonchalant front but the tick in his eyebrow gives his irritated disposition away.

Surely he didn’t believe that you would let him have his way with you that easily.

Except he did. Because under most circumstances he would. But today, your own stubbornness (only marginally) drowns out your desire for your Adonis of a boyfriend so you push past him into the lounge, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“Later.” You bring the frozen treat to your lips. “It’s so hot.” Again, Eren tries to keep his face expressionless but you easily spot the way he clenches his jaw as his gaze fixes itself onto your mouth.

Bingo

You close your eyes, enjoying the sweet cherry taste and cool sensation that spreads throughout your body.

“On second thought,” You start, as a mischievous grin spreads across your face. “There is something else I’d rather have in my mouth.”

“Yeah?” Eren dons a matching smirk and stalks his way over to you, sitting down so that you can straddle him. “Tempting but honestly, your mouth isn’t what I had in mind.” His voice trails off, large hands moving down to cup your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze for good measure. But before he can take it any further you’re already manoeuvring your way between his knees.

“Oh. You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You pout, resting your head against his thigh, trying your best to sound disappointed.

Eren swallows whatever argument he was about to present when he sees your pretty eyes, shaded by fluttering lashes looking up at him with the tip of the crimson popsicle pressed against your sinful mouth. The same sinful mouth he’s been dreaming about for a month.

Fuck.

“Yeah, okay.” He grumbles while you watch him pull his already half hard cock out of his bottoms. It’s so pretty and long, perfectly thick in all the right places, decorated at the tip with a vertical running titanium barbell.

He’s got a hand around his base, waiting for you to replace the sweet treat in your mouth with his aching cock but much to his dismay your attention is drawn a little lower.

The sight of his plush balls all swollen and full of cum proves to be too much for you to resist. He shudders when your cold lips press against the taut skin. You know he’s sensitive from being so backed up. That’s why he starts panting as you leave wet kisses on his sac, leaving your saliva all over it while his shaft grows harder above you.

“Hold this for me.” You pass him your popsicle, that is slowly starting to melt which he takes in his free hand.

“Okay can you just- fuck.” One more kiss, right on the shiny metal of his newly healed piercing, shuts him up quickly.

Your own hands find their place on his thighs. You dip your head down again and take one of his balls in his mouth massaging it with your tongue.

“Christ.” He groans, slowly jerking himself off while you worship his balls.

“Oh poor baby…. so full.” You murmur letting go of the left to suck on the right one, savouring the weight of them.

“Yeah.” His voice is about a whole octave higher than usual. “Hurts.” He scrunches up his face when you let go of his ball with a pop.

“I bet.” You giggle. Eren is now at full mast, veiny shaft resting against his abdomen, dribbling precum which coats the shiny piercing that crowns his angry-red tip. His wrist flicks ever so elegantly as his hand moves languidly up and down, up and down, up and-”

“Princess.” Your boyfriend whines, yanking you out of your daze. “Enough with the teasing. You wanted to suck me off. Do it already.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, not losing sight of your revenge plot.

“Baby,” You pout. “I really want to but-” It’s so hard to bite back your laugh. “But I don’t remember how.”

“Wait what?” His hand stops right in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s been so long. Can you show me?”

Eren’s expression goes from perplexed to vicious but you don’t budge, blinking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

“How?” He huffs impatiently. It’s funny actually, seeing him struggle to tolerate a fraction of his own bitter medicine.

Your eyes shift to the frozen treat still in his hand that’s starting to drip down his knuckles. “I’m a visual learner.”

He moves like he’s about to stand up but you won’t make it that easy for him. “Please, Rennie? Please teach me how to suck your cock?”

As much as Eren has you wrapped around his finger, he’s just as whipped for you. So when you look at him with those sparkly eyes and call him the pet name he swears he hates but brings him to his knees when you use it, you know you have him.

Hook, line and sinker.

You use your thumb and middle finger to make a circle around his base, positioning yourself eye level with his leaking slit.

His tongue peaks out cautiously, eyes trained on yours as he flicks it across the tip, testing the waters. Immediately you follow suit, tasting his precum for the first time in so long. His hips buck off the couch, chasing the gone-too-soon sensation but you dig your nails into his thigh, reminding him who’s in control right now.

You quirk your brow at him, making sure he understands what you want.

How many times have you found yourself in this exact position: sitting between your boyfriend’s thighs while he looks down at you, both of you equally as lust drunk as the other. But this time he’s the one panting and whimpering while you have your turn to torture him.

Eren doesn’t like it. Not one bit. He wants to smack that smug little grin right off your face but instead he pulls at your hair, tugging right at the roots and making you yelp in pain. Now you’re scowling. But it’s hard to look at all intimidating sitting beneath him with your head tilted at such an awkward angle. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench together either.

Never breaking eye contact, he uses the flat of his tongue to lick a broad stripe up the length of the popsicle. You squirm in place, remembering how it feels to have him lick across your cunt exactly like that.

Fine. He’d play along with your little game. But on his own terms.

You lean forward to copy him but the hand holding your head keeps you in place. Without looking away, Eren launches a glob of spit onto the already drippy ice-cream before licking it away. It’s that simple for him to put a crack in your domineering façade and have you whimpering right at his feet as per usual.

The corners of his lips twitch as a silent challenge to you.

Never one to back down, you use your tongue to trace the vein that runs along the underside of his cock, feeling it pulsate. As you get closer to his prince Albert, you can’t hold back from swirling the wet muscle around the cold metal.

A soft whimper escapes his lips as you pull away, keeping your mouth agape, looking up at him expectantly.

It’s silent for a moment before Eren realises what you’re wordlessly pleading for. “Fucking slut.” He mutters, almost amazed before he gathers more of his saliva to drop into your mouth with a loud khwa pto echoing throughout the quiet apartment.

You close your mouth with a satisfied smile, savouring the taste of sweet, tart cherry and a flavour that is uniquely Eren, letting it mingle with your own saliva before spitting it on to his cock. You use your tongue to spread the wetness all along the shaft, leaving it covered in slick sheen.

“So fuckin’ nasty.” He groans, moving his hand from your head to push his own hair out of his face, not wanting anything to obstruct his view of you right now.

You feel the way his thigh twitches under your palm every time you come even close to his puffy cockhead and your tongue brushes across the sensitive piercing. The idea that you have him like this, desperate and whining, after weeks of him toying with you is exhilarating to say the least.

You have to rein yourself in before you end the fun too soon.

Reluctantly, you pull away and patiently await your next command.

You know what he wants next and so does he but Eren can’t help but feel self-conscious.

Of course, he loves the way you look when you’re going down him. His gallery is filled with pictures of you with your eyes filled to the brim with tears and your lips stretched impossibly wide around his girth. When you’re not around he gets off to the videos him fucking your face, relishing in the way you gag while you try to accommodate him in your throat. He doesn’t think he could ever measure up to how sexy you look with your pupils blown, lips all swollen and your spit dripping down your chin.

But just like you, he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Ever so slowly, he opens his mouth and latches on to the blunt top of the popsicle. His plump lips form a perfect O-shaped pout, stained beautiful crimson from the fruit juice. Your gaze is transfixed on his face, the sharp lines and edges tinted with an uncharacteristic blush as his cheeks hollow out, to suck it in deeper.

“So pretty baby.” You breathe out.

He shudders as the cool air fans out across his wet skin.

“Yeah? ‘m pretty?” He smirks, using his free hand to drag his cock across your face, smearing his precum on your lips. “Show me how you treat pretty boys. Please?”

And how could you deny him?

Centimeter by centimeter, you pull him in. Only the first few inches, get to enjoy the warm, slippery cavern of your mouth while the rest of him has to make do with the soft skin of your hand gliding up, down and around.

“Fucking take it inside. Christ.” He groans, frustration evident as he glares down at you.

You simply shake your head a ‘no’, far too content with the taste and the weight of him in your mouth to stop suckling at his cock. If he wants more, he knows what he has to do.

The frozen treat is back between his lips and far too quickly, with not enough thought he pushes it inside as far as it can go until his gag reflex forces him to abort his mission, sputtering out red-coloured saliva.

You pull off of him as you erupt into a fit of giggles.

Eren takes advantage of the fact that you’re unguarded and in a matter of seconds he has you pinned to the floor. The poor popsicle is left in a sad, melting puddle on your couch while his long, sticky fingers circle around both of your wrists, the other hand keeping a harsh grip on your jaw.

Yeah. Not laughing now, are you?

“Was that funny to you princess?” He questions you, almost daring you to hit back.

Knowing when to quit was never one of your strong points.

“Not funny.” You say despite your giddy smile. “My pretty boy just needs more practice.” You snicker.

You’re pushing his buttons on purpose now. At best, you expect some degrading words fitting of your bratty attitude. At worst, you expect the sting of his palm to come down against the side of your face, reminding you of your place.

What you don’t expect is a wry chuckle before he says, “I forgot how bitchy you get when you don’t get stuffed full of cock enough.”

Eren frees your hands in favour of placing both of his on your knees. He spreads apart your legs as wide as they can go, dragging his coarse palms up and up to rest at the apex of your thighs. He flicks up the hem of your shirt to reveal to him the crotch of your panties that's soaked through with your arousal. He pulls them to the side to expose your cunt to him. Eren barely stops himself from tearing the flimsy fabric right off your body and only because he thinks they're pretty and wants to see you wear them again.

He can smell you. But he suppresses the desire to bury his face between your pillowy thighs for as long as you’ll let him. He knows that’s not what either of you really want.

“This needy pussy been missing me?” He coos, keeping his voice sugary sweet and dripping with condescension. He grinds his pierced tip all along your cunt, dipping under your hood to press right against your clit.

You feel it before you realise what’s happening; the burn of his fat head of his cock prodding at your tiny hole, forcing it to stretch around him.

“Jesus fuck- ‘s tight.” He grits out, managing to pop just the tip in.

Tears gather at your waterline as he impales you further and further on his cock, reintroducing your insides to him and his newest body mod. The bulb of the piercing drags deliciously over every bump and ridge that lines your walls. It just keeps going and going until it’s all too much.

Instinctively, your hand flies to Eren’s abdomen, fingers splaying across his tummy. You want to ask him to stop or wait or at the very least prep you. But you’re just so full.

He’s not even all the way in and you’re full of him everywhere. Did it feel like this before?

He doesn't give you a chance to remember.

“Move. Your fucking. Hand.” He grunts before moving it for you and sheathing his cock fully in your spasming cunt.

“Fuck Eren. ‘s big.” Your voice breaks as you utter that last word right one Eren fills you to the hilt. Your arms fly to his biceps, squeezing the muscle so tight that you’re certain it hurts him but he doesn’t complain.

No one would believe that mere minutes ago Eren was the one under your thumb. Not when he’s so quickly managed to turn you into a blubbering mess.

“Where’s that smart mouth now?” He mocks you as if he’s doing any better. In reality he’s keeping himself still, with his pressed against yours trying to regain a semblance of control, not wanting this to end so soon.

Slowly, he starts to rock his hips against you and little by little you open up around him, offering less and less resistance. Hand on the bible, he swears he can feel your gooey pussy sucking him in every time he pulls back, almost like it’s begging him to never leave again. Hand on the bible, he swears that he won’t.

“Huh?” He taunts. “Where’s the bitch who thought she could fuck with me?” He emphasises his point with one sharp snap of his hips that hits the bull’s eye.

“Eren! Right there!” You cry out as you back arches up into him but he forces you to stay down by pressing his palm firmly against your sternum.

“Right there?” He mimics your voice, with a high pitched, nasal tone. You can’t even cringe at how it sounds because the feeling of the rounded metal hitting that squishy patch deep inside you with pinpoint accuracy is too overwhelming for you to think about anything else.

“You want me to fuck you here?” His thrusts start to pick up pace. You’re finally getting used to him again and the slick juices from your pussy let’s him move as fast as he wants, as deep as he wants so you he can use his cock to abuse all of your sweet spots

You can’t exactly speak; only nod, as you dig your nails into his shoulders and back, leaving a trail of crescent shaped indents in your wake. The coil at the base of your belly twists tighter, tighter and tighter still as all your nerve endings work overtime to register the way he fills you up completely, the way the metal rubs along all the right spots and the way Eren rams into you like a man possessed.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” Now you’re begging. It’s impossible to stop the fear bubbling in your chest. You’ve become well-acquainted with this feeling. Absolutely drowning in pleasure and right on the edge of an unimaginable peak before having it ripped away. It’s not unreasonable to be worried that Eren might leave you high and dry once again.

He halts his movements the moment he notices the doubt behind your eyes.

Your pleas become more and more frantic, already thinking the worst. “Don’t stop Eren! Please don’t stop.” You sob but go silent when his hand rests itself firmly around your throat.

“Told you.” He punctuates the sentence with one, deep thrust.

“Fuck. What did I say?” He growls as he falls back into the same brutal rhythm that had you teetering on the very brink of an orgasm before.

God above as your witness, you try and answer but all that comes out is a pathetic squeak of his name before he cuts you off completely by squeezing your neck tighter.

“S-said I was gonna fuck you stupid. Right?”

You nod as best you can, head spinning from the lack of air and your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Now fuckin’ cum for me so I can keep my promise.”

The second his hand meets your clit, you’re a goner. The calloused pad of his thumb rubs the neglected nub with exactly the right pressure to push you over the edge. Every muscle clenches as that tightening coil finally snaps. The intoxicating pleasure that shoots through your body reaches your head at the same time as the pressure on your throat is released, much needed oxygen flooding your brain and prolonging the high.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him deep inside you as cream around his cock. It’s pointless to hold off his release any longer and with nowhere else to go he spills his load deep in your pussy. The feeling of his hot cum seeping into your pussy has you twitching around him, trying to milk every last drop from him.

You may have blacked for a second, eyes fluttering open as Eren gently taps your cheek. His handsome face, all flushed and sweaty comes into focus. Both of you are wearing equally dopey grins as he asks you, “Did it feel as good as I said?”

#tw dubcon #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #attack on titan smut #eren smut #aot smut #snk smut #eren yaeger x reader smut

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

covered in bruises

word count: 2,611

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, nosebleeds, bruises, and scuffs/cuts, also a bitchy ex-boyfriend who sucks and shares some private pics. also some swearing cause it’s me (but i promise it’s fluffy!!!)

a/n: i genuinely have no clue where this idea came from but I’m a sucker for partners taking care of each other after a fight or something so tadah. thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells for helping me with the ending and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for helping me with the title! i hope you guys enjoy!

haikyuu masterlist

A few years ago, if you had told Y/N Y/L/N that she would be answering a phone call in the dead of night from Yamaguchi, she probably would’ve guessed that the two of them had forgotten about some project they were supposed to complete and the pair would’ve spent all night working on it while Tsukishima slept peacefully knowing he had finished it.

What Y/N never guessed on happening was Tsukishima stumbling through her front door, only barely being held up by Yamaguchi, the blond’s face covered in scuff marks and blood dripping from his nose and lips.

“What the hell happened?” Y/N gaped, immediately rushing to Tsukishima’s other side and helping him into the kitchen.

“Don’t even get me started,” Yamaguchi grumbled, muttering something about keeping your mouth shut and never would’ve gotten into this mess.

“Stop grumbling. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everyone’s fine,” Tsukishima huffed, pushing the two of them off but swaying a little.

“Tsukishima Kei, what the hell happened to you? You look like you got into a fight!” Y/N stared at him for a moment, watching as his gaze flickered away from hers. She glanced at Yamaguchi, as if hoping that would bring some answers, but he just glared at Tsukishima as well. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she said after a beat of silence, walking to the other room.

There was a flurry of hushed whispers as she left, Yamaguchi insisting to Tsukishima that he needed to tell her what was going and Tsukishima being blatantly stupid and insisting that there was in fact, nothing going on.

By the time that Y/N returned, hands filled with some spare tissues and bandages, sprays and cotton balls, Yamaguchi had thrown up his hands in the air in exasperation, “I give up. I brought him this far. He’s your problem now,” he groaned, shaking his head towards Y/N. “I’m sorry for dumping him on you, but maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Y/N and Tsukishima watched as Yamaguchi stormed off, leaving both of them in an awkward silence.

“Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?” Tsukishima grumbled after a bit, sitting down on a nearby dining chair.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, part of her wanting to smack him in the head but thinking better of it considering his injuries. “Here, hold this to your nose,” she insisted, handing him the tissues as she glanced over his body. From what she could see, the most damage was on his face but if he could keep his nosebleed in order, she could tend to the scrapes and cuts that were starting to bleed on his knuckles.

Pulling up a chair next to him, Y/N sprayed some hydrogen peroxide onto his knuckles. Tsukishima inhaled sharply, pulling away from her grip as he winced, “What the hell is that?” He glared at her, trying not to make it obvious just how much that fucking hurt.

“Give me your fucking hands, Kei,” Y/N demanded, holding her hands out with another vicious look. “You gotta spray them before they get all infected.”

The boy hesitated before slowly letting her hands take his, bracing himself this time as she dabbed away the blood and finally wrapped it up in some medical bandages. “I’ll get you something cold for your nose, hang on,” she mumbled, shuffling to the freezer and digging through to find something helpful.

Tsukishima shifted awkwardly, trying to glance around at anything else so he didn’t have to sit in the silence. “Are you not going to ask?” He muttered out finally, avoiding her eyes as he checked to see how much his nose was still bleeding.

“How about I assume it was something stupid?” she quipped, bringing over a cold ice pack. “Here, I use this sometimes when my muscles hurt after swimming practice.”

He nodded slowly, placing it over his nose in hopes of bringing down any swelling. Now that he was sitting here and his adrenaline was going down, everything was starting to ache a lot more.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Tsukishima murmured, glancing at her for a moment.

Y/N laughed a bit, shaking her head, “Sure it wasn’t.”

Tsukishima frowned tightly, watching her as she cleaned him up. Her fingers delicately working along his skin, checking for any other cuts or scrapes along his arm. “Why would it be something stupid?”

“Because, the Tsukishima Kei that I grew up with only fought with snarky comebacks and sneers,” Y/N laughed a bit at the memories, glancing up at him and brushing her fingers along the cut on his eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t that mean that if I had to punch someone, it would be something serious?”

The girl couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, thinking about this string bean of a boy throwing hands, “You punched someone? It kinda just looks like you got used as a punching bag.”

“Hey, it was 3 to 1. And I left some pretty good cuts on them too, thank you very much,” Tsukishima groaned a bit as Y/N dabbed a bit of the peroxide on his eyebrow, swatting at her hand, “Okay okay. I think it’s clean now!”

“So if one of these gets infected, will you be bitching like a little baby then too?” She shot back, smacking his hand away from hers. “How’s your nose?”

Tsukishima pulled the tissues and cold pack away from his face, letting Y/N examine him, “Well, I don’t think it’s broken so you’ll probably be fine. Just don’t take a volleyball to the face anytime soon.”

He just rolled his eyes as she went to start a kettle, insisting that tea was good for healing.

“If I asked what it was about would you be honest?” Y/N questioned as she brought over two cups of tea.

“Would you believe me if I said they had just such punchable faces?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, kicking at his shin from under the table and making him whine a bit more, “Hey! I’m bruised all over the place!”

“Tell me what happened! Yamaguchi thought I should know so why shouldn’t I know?”

Tsukishima just looked away, fingers drumming along the mug that was warming his hands. “Just... some dude doing some dumb shit. Saying stupid things about...”

“About?”

“About you.”

Y/N stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Tsukishima wasn’t exactly the number one best example of a friend. And it wasn’t like there weren’t people before who didn’t like her. There were bound to be people saying shit.

“What did they say? Do I know them?” She asked finally, thinking back about the list of people she had in her head who definitely didn’t like her.

“It doesn’t matter, they were just being idiots,” Tsukishima tried to insist, sipping at his tea. “I was just annoyed and so I called them out for it. And the one guy took a swing at me. Then we just... did what guys do, I dunno.”

“Is Yamaguchi okay?” Y/N’s eyes widened, looking at her front doors as if the boy would magically still be there. “Did he get hurt?”

“No way. If anything, Yamaguchi probably broke the one guy’s nose,” Tsukishima snickered, thinking back to the moment where one of the dudes crumpled up in pain after Yams smacked him around.

Y/N nodded slowly, reminding herself to text the boy later and make sure he was alright. “You’re really not gonna tell me what they said?”

Tsukishima stretched his legs out slightly, getting more comfortable in the seat and avoided her eyes some more, as if pretending she hadn’t said anything. But the awkwardness exuding from him was very evident. “He just... said something about you being average... but still kept showing off these stupid pictures,” he finally muttered out, ears going red.

Y/N felt her heart drop a little. She didn’t need to hear anything more than pictures to know that her fucking ex-boyfriend was the one who was causing all this trouble. She had so many regrets about that relationship, and one of them was the photos that she had sent.

“I deleted them,” Tsukishima commented after glancing at her expression. “When I knocked him down I grabbed his phone and deleted them. I dunno if he has other copies somewhere but...”

Y/N practically threw herself across the table, wrapping the string bean boy into a hug. There was such a relief off of her shoulders, just knowing that Tsukishima had tried to get rid of them.

He grunted in response, pulling her closer into a hug but also shifting her weight around so it wasn’t on his side (which hurt like a bitch). “Stop doing stupid things for boys who are too dumb to realize what they have,” he commented, flicking her head.

She gave a little laugh, hugging him tighter for a moment before pulling away, “Yea yea... Does that mean I should stop taking care of you all the time?”

Tsukishima’s lips made a few protesting sounds, huffing before finally standing up and stretching. “I should get going. I don’t want you to stay up too late or you’ll be yawning all day tomorrow in math.”

Y/N smacked his arm a little making him wince a bit, which just made her laugh, “Go on then. Try to take a shower and ice your bruises. And next time you beat up my ex-boyfriend, call me so I can take a swing at him too.”

Tsukishima smirked and nodded, heading to the front door and slipping his shoes on.

“Hey Tsukishima?”

He glanced back at her, surprised to find the nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet for a moment before reaching up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I mean it. Thank you.”

Tsukishima burst into a fit of stammers, insisting that it wasn’t that big of a deal and she shouldn’t make it into one, but his cheeks were glowing red while he waved it away.

The next day at school, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when her eyes landed on her black-eyed and scuffed up ex-boyfriend. For a string bean, apparently Tsukishima was pretty good at landing punches. Maybe it was the snarky expression on her face, or maybe it was just because she had walked by, but before Y/N could rush past him, her ex-boyfriend stepped in front of her, glowering down at her.

“Get out of my way, asshole,” Y/N huffed, stepping back slightly.

“You know, I always knew there was something going on with you and Four Eyes,” her ex told her in a low voice, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I should’ve known you were cheating on me.”

“Right, I cheated on you and then broke up with you for cheating on me,” Y/N raised an eyebrow up at him. “Get lost, idiot. I don’t have time for you.”

“You’re saying you weren’t seeing him behind my back? That it’s not suspicious that you two immediately started going out after we broke up?” His voice was raising, causing all the students nearby to glance in their direction, whispers filling the space around them.

“We aren’t going out,” Tsukishima’s voice thudded into the air, his heavy arm flopping onto Y/N’s shoulders. He patted her head gently as he gave her a simple smile before turning his glare onto the dude in front of him. “I didn’t ask her out when you two broke up. But if she’ll have me, I can do it here and now in front of you?”

The offer stunned everyone around them, even the whispering bunches of teens who had come around to see if these two bruised and beaten up boys would end up fighting again. Y/N looked up at Tsukishima with wide eyes, heart palpitating against her chest.

“I knew you liked her,” her ex scoffed. “Too bad she’s too good for you.”

“Well if she settled for the likes of you, I must have a pretty decent shot. I might not be the best boyfriend material, but at least I know not to talk shit about a girl like Y/N,” Tsukishima snapped back. His eyes finally met Y/N’s and she had to wonder for a moment if he was being serious or just saying this to show up the asshole in front of them.

“There’s no way she would go out with you-” the asshole glared at the two of them.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed out softly, both Asshole and Tsukishima’s eyes falling on her. “Ask me.”

Tsukshima’s usually scowling lips turned into a smile, patting her head and ruffling up her hair slightly, “Go out with me.”

Y/N nodded with a smile, still searching his eyes for any sign that this was a genuine interaction.

“Finally,” Yamaguchi huffed from behind the two of them, grinning widely as they all turned to look at him. “The two of you look good together. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late to class.”

Tsukishima grabbed Y/N’s hand before she or her ex could say anything, pulling her ahead as they followed Yams to class.

“W-Wait, Tsukishima,” Y/N stopped in her tracks as they got outside of the classroom, Yams already heading in.

“What?”

Y/N watched him carefully, still unsure of his intentions. “Thank you, for helping me out back there but...”

Tsukishima’s eyes darkened for a moment, like he was coming to some sort of realization, “If it was just a ploy to you, it’s fine. We can just say it was to get him off your back, that’s fine.”

She grabbed his arm as he started to move away, frowning as she looked up at him, “N-No, that’s... I just wanted to know if you... if you meant it.”

As his eyes met hers again, he tilted his head slightly, “Meant what?”

Y/N sighed, knowing they were going to end up going back and forth on this topic if she wasn’t straight up wit him. “Did... Did you really want to ask me out?”

He gave a smirk and Y/N’s heart started to fall - so it had been a joke this whole time then. “Obviously I wanted to ask you out. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now. Did you think I would just ask you out for no reason?”

Y/N wanted to point out that he could have just asked her out to humiliate her ex but seemed to catch onto this and just laughed. “If you think I’d actually fight a guy for just anyone, you’re stupider than I thought.”

She pouted in return, hitting his chest in defiance, “Hey!”

Tsukishima laughed and flicked her forehead, smirking down at her, “Go out with me. Seriously this time.”

Y/N glared playfully at him, pushing at his chest a little, “Fine. But you’ve got to be a bit nicer to me.”

“I took punches to the face for you, how much nicer can I get?” Tsukishima scoffed but bent down and kissed her nose gently. “Now hurry up, we’re late now, idiot.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching them as Tsukishima interlaced their fingers together and pulled her into class, dropping her off at her seat and giving her a cheeky wink, before taking his next to Yamaguchi.

She glanced at him every few seconds in class, pinching herself each time he would catch her eye and give her a small smile, wondering if her dreams had really come true. Had the guy she had fallen head over heels for really just asked her out?

Yes. And surprisingly, it was all thanks to her piece of shit ex boyfriend and a bloody nose.

haikyuu masterlist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #pies writes

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Dark Inside

Pairing | Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary | she’s locked away, by the orders of the government. And you are the guard that is chosen with the responsibility of taking her to shower. Surely nothing unprofessional could unfold...

Warnings | nudity, smut, its a little dark I guess idk, shower sex, brief mention of infection, oral sex (fem receiving obvs), fingering, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“Maximoff, get up.” You barked at the convicted avenger, whom kept her head down, staring at the cement floor of her cell. You rapped your hand against the door of her cell, as her head tilted towards you. It was her fault she was here, not yours, there was no reason for you to pity the strange woman, for her actions had come with consequences, and she knew of them before she decided to stand against the governement. “Now, I won’t ask again.”

It was a warning, and she fully understood that, no matter if her ability to read minds was restrained. That collar, metal and encrusted with a luminous red light, prohibited her from bewitching any one or any thing. Her arms were also bound together, limiting the possibility of her escape. She was the perfect prisoner, pretty and withheld, unable to exhume damage across the world, as she previously had done.

Wanda slowly came to stand, her eyes filled with emptiness as she slowly strode to the door, which you came around to. Hastily, you pulled it ajar, watching as her teammates converted their protective eyes towards you, wary for their friend. You hardly paid them mind as you escorted Maximoff through the walls of their holding, and through the corridors.

She plodded, like a barren mare, eyes sullen and downcast as you escorted her past the empty halls, and towards the shower room, where you lightly shoved her forward, lightly smirking as she did not struggle against the pressure you enjoyed roughing her up with. Out of all the government official inmates, she was by far your favourite. Her mouth remained shut, no sounds left her defined cheeks, all emotion was tucked away, in that blue suit that constricted her.

“Alright Maximoff, let’s get you out of this tight number.” You smirked at your own words, your hands pulling at the blue gear that kept her arms folded. As you stripped her, you could not help but let your hands scrape her pale sides, running down her waist as you pushed the navy suit down, keeping the collar on of course, as you reached behind her, watching as her breasts lightly bounced from the action.

Next to be removed were her panties, her feet shuffled as you dragged the material down, feeling as your eyes bore into her pussy lips, though you didn’t keep your gaze up for long. Instead of staring at her pretty cunt, you stood and tapped her ass. “Forwards girl.” She obliged with the action, moving slowly under the shower head, wrapping her arms around herself as you reached around her, your covered breasts pressing against her back as you turned the spray of water on.

As you moved away, you noticed how she tried to keep her modesty, not changing her stance of having her back turned to you. Her hands slowly raked through her dark hair, stroking the grease out of the strands as you watched, as was your job to do. Her back was thin, yet strong. She had held onto so much throughout her life, supporting her team, and that amounted to nothing more than declaring her a sentence.

People saw Wanda as a danger to society, here she was safe from causing more pain upon the world, restrained from reigning damage upon the earth. It had been ten minutes of her pathetically grazing her body with her shy fingertips, her attempts to cleanse herself were poor. “We don’t have all day inmate, if you want to actually be ridden of all that sweat and dirt that you’ve collected whilst being contained in that bag that clothes you, I suggest you get to scrubbing. Quickly.”

From you words, Wanda gulped, though nevertheless began to massage her knuckles on the midst of her chest, down to her stomach, and... she felt almost sick as she was about to wash the most private part of herself in front of someone. But she had no choice if she didn’t want to guarantee herself the severe cost of an infection down under.

Taking in a calming breath, that did little to actually calm herself, Wanda cupped her mound, lightly rubbing, her body jolting at how sensitive she was. A shuffling alerted her ears from behind, and she watched you kick her restraint suit lightly, her head prompting its gaze over her shoulder.

“Time is up, get dried and dressed.” The words sounded like a curse free falling from the curve of your lips. She didn’t want to be returned into that box, until the next time she required to use the lavatory, or her every other day shower. It was more constructing than the clothing that she was forced into, the four walls caging her in like a wild animal on show for children to see.

“Can’t I just have a couple more minutes?” Her voice was rough, sounding like seething sandpaper, for she had not used it in weeks. She usually spoke to no one, and thus it was a surprise when she finally did, more so when it was you.

“I have a tight schedule.” Your teeth gritted as you tutted deliberately at her enquiry. “But if you want my help to allow you bask in there a little longer, it’s gonna cost you, baby girl.” The sound and context of your voice made the young woman shudder, aware that your silent suggestion was an invitation for something deeper, and not one for the light hearted to take up on.

But she never considered herself weak at the knees from emotions, not anymore. There had been too much pain, and too many losses to think of herself as such. She could get through this, coil into your offered whim, or she could keep her dignity in tact, though it wouldn’t be complete for she would still remain tangled with her own dead skin clinging onto her for dear life.

“What do you want?” Her accent, which had somewhat faded a smudge, rang through your ears, making you curiously squint at her. But you said nothing, instead, pulling your shirt over your head, cocking your neck at the woman as her eyes went wide, seeing you be so forwards with your intent.

“I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate Maximoff.” You spoke as you kicked your boots off, toying with your belt, as your eyes denied to leave her bare skin. “Why don’t you turn around, so that I can see that lovely little bush I expect you’re growing.” She wasn’t sure if your words brought her somewhat comfort, or had her skin crawling, there was now a thin line between the two.

Nevertheless, the woman turned, blessing your eyes with her full silhouette. She was admittedly beautiful, especially out of her restraints, except of course, that heavy metal collar that forbade her from using her scarlet witchery. “Come closer, I’m not the one here that supposedly bites the hand that feeds.”

As her body spiralled around, to give you a clear and overall view of her body, you couldn’t admit to yourself that you were impressed. You had been right, there were hairs beginning to peak out of her skin, and her breasts, well they were like balanced bowls of water, awaiting for someone to drink from them.

At your words, Wanda gulped, though she did not stop moving, she instead, paced her feet forwards, not withholding her motions as came to stand before you, nervously licking her lips as she watched you toy with the waistband of your bottoms. It was uncertain if you were teasing her or yourself, though she figured that she best not complain, you were the one in charge here, and one step out of line could leave all her efforts for nothing.

Eventually, after moments of nerve wrecking and pent up expense, you dragged the cargos down your legs, showing her the blankness of your grey underwear. Grey was an understated colour, she saw it all around; from the falling of her country, to the walls that the government had encased her within. But this particular shade, encompassed quite literally against your skin, making her no longer envision it as a dull exterior, but instead an exciting barrier that concealed all the goods beneath its plain material.

Without instruction, Wanda dismissed herself unto her own knees, collapsing her weight down upon the back of her thighs as she tucked her hands around the back of your shins, her green eyes boring up at you, as she pressed an experimental kiss upon your thigh. “Go on Maximoff, earn yourself that extra shower time.” You kicked your panties off, leaving your bottom half bare to the enhanced woman, rolling your shoulders back as you took a steady breath through your nose.

Your fingers cascaded through her long locks, gently tugging her closer, forcing her to breathe in your scent, before her tongue darted out, licking a fine line along the outside of your lips. A frown settled upon your face at her obvious lack of knowledge when it came to pleasing a woman, though you allowed her to continue to explore herself, holding your lip between your teeth as you hungrily stared down at her.

“Good girl.” You coaxed her as she allowed her eyes to lightly flutter, her fingers, small and agile, reached up to part your pussy open, allowing her more access to what was behind its curtains. “Focus on the clit Maximoff, uses your fingers too.” Instead of your instructions leaving you as orderly, as you had planned them to pass in your head, they heaved from your chest in a breathy whisper.

Wanda complied with your verbal assistance, circling her warm and wet tongue around your special bud, rotating it around in her mouth as she pulled the pink ball of flesh into the confines of her mouth, striking it with rolls of her spinning saliva. Her hand trailed down from your lips, rubbing the pads against your slit, as you leant your head back, her nailed digits moving towards your entrance.

Her fingers fumbled, as one tried to surpass the entrance of your pussy, but slipped, only for her to try once more, succeeding to have your cunt swallow her digit into its lubricated depths, suctioning it within the confines of your walls. “Fuck, you’re not terrible at that inmate.” It wasn’t supposed to come across as a compliment, rather it was a noted observation to yourself. Though Wanda still muffled a moan against your mound, pumping her finger in and out of your walls.

Her administrations sped up, causing you to clench around her ravaging fingers, that albeit messy and irregular with their movements, were bringing you closer to fulfilling your satisfaction. It was wrong, to get off using the aid of an inmate, but she was far too compelling to just leave to her own innocent devices, alone in that little cell of hers. “Fuck.” You came over her face and fingers, rutting your hips as she lapped up your sweet nectar.

Once you had rode your orgasm out, you shoved her head away, falling down onto the tiles, and laying her down, spreading her legs wide as you by palmed at her perfect breasts. “Such a gorgeous little cunt. I knew that you’d get off on this, there’s a tantalising darkness to you, and that is what pulled me in.”

Your palms caressed her thighs, stroking soothingly down the parting of her legs and her centre piece, throwing your face between her revealed boudoir, trailing your tongue in quick motions up and down the expanse of her cunt, your fingers running languidly upon her swollen clit.

The fuzz from her growing hairs rubbed against the bottom of your face, but you cared not about the natural order of her body; in fact, it was kind of sexy. Your tongue entered her, slipping through her folds as you tasted everything that she had to offer you, tracing the shapes of figure eights within her flushed walls, your cheeks pressing against the insides of her cheeks.

“Oh my gosh.” Another few words that fell from her open mouth, her hands grasping the solid slate of the floor, as her hips lightly bucked up into your mouth, strings of moans dribbling off her tongue. “I- I-“ you soothed her thigh, confirming that it was okay, and all she had to was release all the tension building up within her.

And with that, she spilled, her swarm of essence falling onto your tongue, as your tongue eased out of her cunt, raking up the length of her pussy, cleaning up the mess that you had made of her.

“Looks like you’re gonna need another shower Maximoff.” You smirked, as you pulled your mouth away from her dripping cunt, her juices painting your rabid smirk in the most beautiful resolution. “I’ll let you have that extra time now.”

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 21}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Before Nesta even opened her eyes, she knew that she’d gotten some of the best sleep she’d had in months. She knew it was early, since Nyx hadn’t even woken them up for his morning bottle yet. Sighing comfortably, she settled deeper into her pillows, the weight of a heavy arm slung over her waist, pulling her in close.

With sudden clarity, she remembered the events of the night before. She remembered the damn kiss that had started it all. She remembered the orgasms Cassian had given her over and over. She remembered seeing something shining in his eyes that had nothing to do with lust or sex.

She was sure it was reflected in her own, but couldn’t work up the nerve to let herself think about what they’d done last night, what it may have implied. What lines they may have crossed.

And the fact that she really didn’t give a damn.

Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she was this happy, and as much as she tried to pretend it wasn’t thanks to the man sleeping soundly behind her, in her bed, she couldn’t lie to herself.

So she gently rolled over, careful not to wake him, and took in his sleeping face.

It was kind of funny.

Nesta had known Cassian for a while, for five years, and before that in passing, considering Feyre and Rhysand’s relationship. She had watched him age, had watched him grow from a young man into the man that had taken her the night before, but looking at him now…

There was an innocence about him when he slept.

He snored, quietly, completely unaware that she was awake, that she was watching him.

He was cute.

So, so cute.

If he awoke at that very moment and saw her watching him sleep, she would have surely been mortified, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, she couldn’t look away.

Memories from the night before flashed through her mind, and it only made her that much happier. She couldn’t remember the last time she had fallen asleep in a man’s arms, but with Cassian, she had fallen asleep peacefully, nearly instantly, and slept amazingly.

There was something about Cassian that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she knew that she liked it.

She dared to gently brush a kiss over his cheek, before carefully climbing out of bed, his heavy arm making that a much harder endeavor than she was expecting. But he slept on soundly, not even stirring as she slipped from beneath the sheets and hurried into her closet. She wasn’t embarrassed by her nakedness, not after everything that had happened last night, but she knew that if he caught her naked, they were likely to take far longer getting downstairs to start their morning.

Not that she would have minded, but she was pretty sure neglecting Nyx was not a good enough reason for sex.

No, she’d enjoy him again later, as thoroughly as he’d enjoyed her last night, if he was willing. And she had no doubt that he would be.

Tying her robe around her waist, Nesta slipped from the closet into her room, glancing to make sure Cassian was still fast asleep. His snore confirmed he was.

Her chuckle was quiet as she entered the hall, sneaking down a few doors and opening Nyx’s. He was still asleep, as well, and with a smile, Nesta cracked his door and quietly padded down the stairs.

The kitchen was still a mess, his half-smashed cake on the counter and their clothes strewn around the room. Blushing, she picked them up one by one and tossed them into the laundry room, before making Nyx a bottle and starting on some scrambled eggs for his breakfast.

She could hardly focus. She was constantly thinking about the man upstairs, still sleeping soundly in her bed. Mixing a little cheese into the eggs, she stirred the eggs up in the pan before dumping them directly onto Nyx’s high chair tray.

Last time they’d slept together, Cassian had made her breakfast and then they’d both agreed it would never happen again. Regardless of the fact that it very much had happened again, Nesta didn’t like the sinking feeling she felt in her heart when she thought about having to agree to that once more.

Staring at the ingredients she’d pulled out of the fridge, Nesta sighed and braced her hands on the counter in front of her.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she had feelings for Cassian anymore. At some point, he’d gone from being a pain in her ass to the favorite part of her day. And that terrified her.

Letting him continue to sleep, she crept upstairs and gently woke Nyx up before he could start screaming, and carried him down to the kitchen, his sleepy head resting on her shoulder. He rubbed his eyes as she put him in his high chair, handing him the bottle, and she started working on their breakfast.

The entire time he ate, Nyx watched Nesta curiously, as if he knew something was up.

Maybe it was just her paranoia. Then again, he was Feyre and Rhysand’s kid and they were always snooping into Cassian and Nesta’s business.

Feyre and Rhysand.

Nesta bet they were pretty damn proud of themselves at the moment.

She heard him moving around upstairs and her heart began to beat a little bit faster. This was it, the moment of truth.

She cursed, all the while Nyx kept watching her as he stuffed his mouth with scrambled eggs.

Making herself busy at the stove, she quickly dropped some bacon into the hot skillet, sizzling filling the kitchen. Within seconds, a few pieces of bread were in the toaster, and she was rummaging through the refrigerator for the blackberry jam she knew he preferred.

Nyx’s babbling announced his arrival, and she turned to find Cassian standing behind his high chair, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips. He picked up a small clump of eggs and popped it into his mouth, and Nyx angrily began talking at him, though the made up words were unintelligible.

“He doesn’t like to share,” she said, closing the fridge door with a hip.

Cassian grinned. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. I worked up an appetite last night.”

Nesta’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “Is that so?”

Cassian nodded and walked toward her, slowly. Nesta remained still until he was standing just in front of her. “I have to confess that I was hoping you’d be there when I woke up this morning.”

Nesta stepped closer to him. “Breakfast and the baby called.”

Cassian scoffed and muttered, “Priorities.”

Nesta laughed quietly, but the sound was muffled by Cassian’s lips against hers.

It was almost instinct to lean into him, to smile against his lips. When she pulled back just a hair, his hazel eyes were bright. She whispered, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he breathed, his mouth still so close to hers.

She blushed, even though she couldn’t figure out why and turned to the stove. “I…wasn’t sure what to expect this morning.”

Cassian hesitated. “What did you think I’d do?”

Nesta sighed, scratching her head. “I don’t know. I thought you might act like it never happened. Or, you’d say it was only a one time thing like last time.”

Cassian cocked his head to the side. “Last time I didn’t sleep in your bed.”

“And that changes things?” Nesta asked, quietly.

“Last night changed things,” Cassian replied, brushing her hair back out of her face. “At least, for me it did.”

“Me too,” Nesta replied, without any hesitation.

Cassian’s eyes softened. “Nesta, I-.”

“NANANANANANANANA!”

They both spun around, where Nyx was watching them with the most precious of pissed off expressions. His tray was empty, practically licked clean, and Nyx was not having it.

Cassian chuckled as he took a banana out of the fruit basket and peeled it before cutting it up into slices. “He’s awfully full of it this morning, isn’t he?”

“I think he knows,” she said, rolling her eyes as she flipped the bacon. “Not specifically what happened, but he knows something is…different between us.”

He paused his cutting and turned back to her, pausing with a hip resting on the counter. “Good different or bad different?”

“Good different,” she said, smiling. She cracked a few eggs into a bowl and mixed them up with some milk. “Definitely good different.”

For a moment, Cassian didn’t say anything, but when she turned he was grinning. “Really good different?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” She turned back around. “But yes.”

“Good,” he breathed, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “What’ve you got going on today?”

“Work,” she said. “Seeing how the bar renovation is going. Looks like you’ll have to hire your replacement soon with how quickly everything is moving.”

Cassian groaned. “That’s the part I’m looking towards the least. I hate interviews. I hate being in them, I hate giving them, they’re awful.”

“But the sooner you give them, the sooner you leave that bar and come work at mine,” she crooned.

“Yours?” he repeated, offended.

Nesta snorted. “Ours.”

He and Kallias had both given their notice to the owner of the dive bar they worked in. He wasn’t thrilled, but he had always been a gruff bastard. He’d informed Cassian he wasn’t going anywhere until he’d hired not only his replacement, but Kal’s, as well.

“Speaking of,” he sighed, glancing at the clock. “I’ve got one scheduled for eleven-thirty. What time are you going to the restaurant?”

She poured the egg mixture into the skillet she’d cooked the crispy bacon in moments before and began laying the bacon on the toast she’d made. “Whenever,” she shrugged. “Helion is opening today. What time can Viviane be here?”

“Ten. I’m not working a shift today, so after the interview I can either come back here and give her the rest of the day off, or I can come to the restaurant.”

Nesta chewed slowly as she thought about it. “I wouldn’t mind if you came to the restaurant.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Cassian said, placing the cut-up banana in front of a cranky Nyx. “And you, little man, better be good for Viv today. Because you’re grumpy.”

In response, Nyx spit out the piece of banana he had put in his mouth and smushed up the rest on his tray.

After scarfing down the breakfast that Nesta had made, and making a show of thanking her for it, Cassian was cleaning up the kitchen then hurrying upstairs to shower. Nesta was left cleaning up a fussy, banana-covered Nyx.

“I don’t even think you wanted to eat the banana, kiddo,” she muttered, cleaning off his tray, before wiping him down with an ungodly amount of baby wipes. “I think it was just to play in.”

He had plenty to say about that, just nothing Nesta could understand.

A few minutes later, freshly showered and dressed Cassian came downstairs, where Nyx was playing on the living room floor. She was up the stairs a minute later, hurrying to take her own shower. After an hour, she returned, purse and keys in hand. “I’m going to go ahead and head to the restaurant. I’ll see you in a little while?”

He nodded and as she made for the door, Cassian stood, catching her by the elbow and tugging her back to him. She stumbled a step, but he crushed her to his chest and pressed a kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, they were both grinning like fools. “I’ll see you in a little while,” he repeated.

“Okay.” She was backing towards the door, that smile looking like it was a permanent fixture on her face, before slipping out and leaving he and Nyx alone.

Who was watching him again, looking so much like Rhysand with that little eyebrow raised.

Cassian couldn’t help but snort and say, “This is your fault you know.”

A few hours later, right after Nyx had gone down for his mid- morning nap, Cassian heard a knock on the front door. Opening the door, Viviane rushed in. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, shaking her head.

Cass glanced at the clock on the mantle. “It’s barely ten-fifteen,” he chuckled. “No big deal, you’re fine.”

She nodded. “Sorry, just— It’s been a crazy morning.”

“Everything okay?” Cassian asked. Viv was usually steady, so sure of everything she did or said.

“Yeah,” she replied, waving off his question. “I’m fine. Ran into my ex at the coffee shop and— Ugh, ignore me. Don’t worry about it. Is Nyx down for his nap?”

“Yeah, he’s been out for about fifteen minutes. He had a pretty big breakfast, so I doubt he’ll be too hungry when he wakes up.” Cassian gnawed on his lip for a second debating on whether he should ask what was on his mind. After considering how well throwing caution to this wind has worked for him last night, he decided why the hell not. “Does that mean you’re single? Since you bumped into your ex?”

Viviane froze and blinked. “Yes, but I don’t date my employers—”

“No, no,” he quickly said, holding his hands out in placation. “It’s not me. It’s a friend of mine and I think you two might hit it off.”

Viviane raised a brow. “A friend, huh?”

“Guy I’ve worked with for years,” Cassian went on. “Great guy, in fact. You’ll enjoy yourself, guaranteed.”

“Guaranteed?” Viviane chuckled. “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”

Cassian grinned. “No, you can’t, and neither can he. Tomorrow night, you free?”

“I suppose I am, if my boss is giving me the night off,” she laughed.

“He is, and it’ll be great, we’ll all go out,” Cassian said. “You and Kal, and me and Nesta.”

“Kal,” she said, the shortened name rolling off her tongue. “Yeah, alright. That sounds fun.”

“Perfect,” Cassian said, patting her on the shoulder as he swept past her. “I’ve got to get going, but we should be home around five or so. Call if you need anything.”

Viviane chuckled. “You say that every time, and have I ever called?”

“It’s a habit!” he called, as he hurried out the door.

When he got to the bar, Kallias had everything under control, which meant Cassian was taking a table in the far corner, waiting for his interviewee to arrive.

Sadly, this wasn’t the interview to replace his own job. That was proving to be far more tedious than he was expecting. But an hour later, after shaking the young man’s hand, Cassian let out a sigh of relief as he left.

“And how’d that go?” Kallias asked, wiping down a few glasses that were drying atop the bar.

“Well, your position is officially filled,” he replied, sitting across from him at the bar. “So congratulations.”

“Cheers,” he chuckled, raising the empty glass towards Cassian. “When are we celebrating?”

“Tomorrow night, actually,” Cassian said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kal snorted. “Seriously? I was kidding.”

“I’m not,” Cassian replied, shrugging. “We’re going out tomorrow night. You, me, Nesta, and Viviane.”

Kallias blinked. “The hot nanny?”

Cassian grinned. “Yeah.”

Kallias looked at Cassian suspiciously. “I thought you were kidding when you said you were setting us up.”

“Oh, I never kid about love,” Cassian said, winking.

Kallias raised a brow. “Love? Who the hell are you?”

Cassian filled his glass and took a gulp of beer. “Just meet us at Rita’s at eight tomorrow.”

Kallilas continued to stare at him for a long while. “You slept with her again, didn’t you?”

Cassian’s grin widened. “Tomorrow. Rita’s. Eight.”

And with that, he chugged his beer and left.

The next night, Cassian and Nesta dropped Nyx off at Elain’s before making their way to Rita’s.

“Our first date,” Cassian crooned, reaching his hand across the car to Nesta’s.

She took it fondly. “Our first date? After all we’ve been through, do we even qualify for a first date?”

“Why?” Cassian scoffed. “Just because we’ve been sleeping together and living with each other and raising a kid together?” He snorted. “Of course, we deserve a first date.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but did not protest.

Cassian had slept in her bed last night after another night of lovemaking. Even though it didn’t seem possible, it got better with each time. The more they got to know each other’s bodies, the more familiar with one another they became, the more they became one in intimacy, the more amazing it was.

“You look amazing tonight,” Cassian said, quietly. “In case I haven’t told you that yet tonight.”

He had.

Multiple times.

But, Nesta couldn’t blame him. She did look amazing in her navy blue dress and her blush heels. She looked over at Cassian, in his jeans and button down shirt.

Coincidentally, it wasn’t much different than what he had worn on their actual first date five years before. She chuckled, and he looked over at her, brow raised.

“This is actually our second date,” she said.

Cassian shook his head, amused, before looking back out the window as he turned into the parking lot. “Well, hopefully this date goes better than that one did.”

Nesta agreed.

As soon as Cassian opened Nesta’s door, they spotted Viviane pulling into the parking lot. They knew she was a pretty girl, but she usually showed up to work with a ponytail, jeans, and a t-shirt. Now, she had really dressed to impress.

Cassian whistled as she got out of her car and Vivane blushed as Nesta’ jabbed him in the ribs.

“You look beautiful,” Nesta told Vivane.

“Thanks,” she said, and Nesta could tell the nanny was a little nervous, a little uncomfortable.

“I see Kal’s truck,” Cassian said, gesturing for the women to follow. “I guess he’s already inside.”

Indeed he was and he’d already gotten a table for the four of them and was working on a pitcher of a beer.

“Hey, man,” Cassian greeted him as Kallias stood and shook his hand. “This is Nesta,” he said, placing a hand on her back.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, reaching for his hand as well. They shook hands and Kallias smiled.

“You, too,” he replied. “I guess I should call you boss now, huh?”

“No, no, no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Please don’t.”

“And this,” Cassian interrupted, rolling his eyes at the two of them, “is Viviane.”

As if he somehow hadn’t noticed the blond beauty behind Cassian until this moment, Kallias looked up at her and blinked. He was about to make some sort of hot nanny joke when Kallias breathed, “Viv?”

She was looking at him with the same dumbfounded look Kallias had on his face. “Kallias… Hey.”

Cassian and Nesta looked between the two, then at each other, and after a moment, Nesta asked, “You two know each other?”

Kallias still looked like he was trying to figure out what planet he was on, so Viviane answered, “We were…childhood friends. But my family moved to Velaris when I started middle school.” She shook her head, but she had been looking at Kallias the whole time. “I had no idea you were in Velaris.”

He finally remembered to speak, though Cassian was beginning to wonder if he’d need to answer for him. “I came out here for college. Loved the city and decided to stay.”

“College?” Viviane repeated. “You’re telling me that you’ve been here since your freshman year, and you’ve never called?”

Kallias chuckled. “I didn’t even know you still lived here!”

“Hmm,” Viviane said, taking a seat across from him. “Well, what a small world, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Kallias repeated, “small world.”

Cassian took a seat by Kallias and Nesta sat across from them as they went a little bit more in depth into their long lost friendship. Apparently they had grown up in the same neighborhood and had always gone to the same elementary school. Kallias was a year older than Viviane, but when he went into the seventh grade and Viviane was going into sixth, her family moved to Velaris for her father’s work.

They had never talked again after that. Their friendship was nothing more than a simple, joyful memory.

Seeing them now, Nesta thought, she just knew the two of them had gotten into trouble when they were little. Between their jokes and sly looks at one another, and the obvious chemistry, they had surely been up to no good and gave both sets of parents a run for their money.

“I’m going to the bar,” Cassian announced, looking at Nesta. “Care to join?”

Nesta had a feeling that it was less about going to the bar and more about giving the newfound couple beside them a few minutes alone. She nodded, and took his hand as they walked toward the bar on the other side of the room.

“They’re cute together,” Nesta said, sitting on a barstool.

Cassian sat on the one next to her. “Oh, I know. You know, I’ve gotta say, I feel pretty damn accomplished right now. I definitely made this happen.”

Nesta couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him, even as she leaned into his embrace. She wanted nothing more than to poke fun at him, to mess with him about his unexpected matchmaking skills, but as she looked at the two happy people laughing at the table across the bar, she couldn’t help but wonder if that’s the gift that Rhysand and Feyre had tried to give them all those years ago.

Even now, Nesta’s chest tightened as she smiled, so thankful for her meddling, baby sister.

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