Best Friend’s Brother

you, me, our dreams.

cw ; thirdyear!hinata shoyo x f!reader, angst to fluff.

Dating Shoyo is like throwing yourself into a tornado, you never know what will be the next spin off of your relationship. During the last years of highschool, your relationship have gone still, his more preoccupied now on trying to make his dreams come true.

But what about finding from other people that his going abroad after finishing highschool?

"One more lap!"

The voice of your coach reach your ears even though you've gone underwater and when you finally finish your training, you got out from the pool and excuse yourself from the team. Changing back to your uniform, the note you got earlier from your locker, in which you put on the pocket of your skirt fell down

'Let's have a date! See ya afterschool, babe.'

You don't feel the usual tingling sensation, not even the butterflies in your stomach. You hurriedly put on your uniform and grab your bag, waving to your teammates you finally exited the pool area and run from there to your house. It's not that far but it really got you gasping for air once you arrive at your doorstep

A hot bath always relaxes your mind and body everytime you get home and you know that you need it now.

After taking a bath you just blow dried your hair and throw yourself at your bed, by the time you close your eyes you are once again reminded on what you've heard hours ago that you wish you'll just forget

"Oh the memories!"

You stop at your tracks when you heard some familiar voices, peeking out from where you are. You can see the faces of some of the alumni of Karasuno Voleyball Team

"I'm so excited to see Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi! Hope those four didn't stress Hitoka-chan."

"You're such a worry rat Asahi! I mean, same. I will teach Kageyama what to do with his sign once he get popular!"

The three men laugh and you can't help but admire how strong their bond is. You transferred to Karasuno during second year and that's where when the voleyball team are at the top. It also didn't help that you are at the same class of Shoyo and Kageyama, you three became friends and they always invites you over to watch some of their practice match

Although your relationship with Shoyo went from friends to lovers, his a ray of sunshine that you can't help but want to get close. It was valentines day when he surprise you with chocolates and flowers, remembering the teasing face of Tsukishima and Kageyama seeing how Shoyo almost fumble his surprise

"Though is Hinata really sure of his plans after graduation?"

It was Sawamura who spoke and it got you more curious so you went a little closer to hear more better

'Shoyo's plans after graduation?' He never told you about it

"I know. Brazil is so far away! Our lil'tangerine really grew up huh."

"Never saw it coming."

Their voices slowly fades away as you ponder your mind on what you just heard, why didn't Shoyo told you? Is that why his always busy and away? Just why?

You were brought back to your senses when your phone suddenly vibrated, you forgot that you set it to silent mode. You look at the caller and frown seeing that it's Shoyo

"Hi babe! I think you didn't see the letter I put on your locker, just trying to be romantic, heh. Anyways! I'm at the gate waiting for you."

Hearing his cheery voice makes your heart clench, not in a joyous way but the most saddest way.

"I'm sorry, I went home already."

"Eh? Then I'll go-"

"Not today, Hinata."

That's a warning the moment he heard you call him by his last name, you never call him that on a daily basis except when you're not in the mood

"Did something happen? Are you okay?"

You bit your lower lip before answering him, suppressing your emotions

"I'm fine. Bye."

The call ended and it was just the start of you slowly drifting away from Shoyo.

Morning came and you arrived at the classroom earlier than usual, you also exited the room before Shoyo can even go up and talk to you. You also manage to avoid him during lunch and recess by going with your friends. Last but not the least, you always go home earlier than usual.

2 weeks later

You were about to go home when a text from Hitoka arrive stating that she needs to tell you something, she said that you're the only class president left who hasn't know about it yet because she couldn't catch you.

Arriving at the gym, you notice that there's no people and that maybe Hitoka left since her text was sent 20 mins after you finish your training

"I'll just- *slam*"

You quickly turn around but to be only greeted by a hug, the familiar scent and warm immediately let your body be at rest. You didn't move nor pat him on the back, you only stood still and just look down even after he break away from the hug

"You're killing me, y'know that? 2 weeks without hearing your voice, feeling your warm embrace. I miss everything about you, ____."

His hand touches your face but you refuse to meet his gaze because you know that the moment you lift your face, all the strong facade you've put up will crumble

"I'm just busy. The swimming tournament is just around the corner so I've been practicing."

He knows that's a lie, Shoyo just knows. He learn from your teammates that the tournament got push back to next month and that you're pushing yourself to your limits everytime you train

"Why are you lying?"

That irk you

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are! The tournament is on next month and that you're just extra training trying to avoid me."

That did it, you push him away from you

"So what? Not like you care, Hinata. We're both athletes so you know how important our sports to us."

Still, you kept your head hang low. Fuck, your tears are already pooling on your eyes and you just hope that your voice won't waver for a second

"But you're important to me too! Look, I know I'm not the best boyfriend but I think about you all the time! Not being near you these past few days is torture, ____."

You scoff and Shoyo heard it loud and clear, something's wrong and it's telling him to reach out to you or else you'll really slip away from him

"Think about me? What a joke! Ever since we became third years, our relationship have gone astray. We only meet each other once a week or maybe none!"

His not understanding a word you're saying and his heart is beating so fast

"We are adults now, we can big decision without trying to consult or tell others about it, right?"

"What are you saying?"

Shoyo lift his hand to reach out to you but

"Don't touch me!"

He got taken back at the sudden raise of your voice, he also notice how you kept fiddling with your hands

"What I'm trying to say is, let's just break up!"

"No. No, you can't just say that."

Shoyo immediately grab your shoulders but you kept on pushing him

"Let go of me, Hinata!"

"I can't do that. Please, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, just let me go!"

"Saying we break up is not nothing!"

Using all your strength you manage to push him hard and he landed on the floor, his eyes studied your actions and saw how you balled your fist and when he was about to speak up, tears drip down from your face to the floor

"I'm nothing to you! You don't think of me! Aren't you glad that I'm breaking up with you?! It will be more easier for you to just forget about me and go to Brazil, right?!"

"Where did you-"

"I'm doing you a favor so please just forget about me, think nothing of me!"

You gasp when he stood up and pulls you in for a tight hug

"Shoyo, please!"

"I'm not letting you go. Never."

"I hate you! I hate you!"

You cried on to his arm that you didn't notice your shoulder getting wet from his own tears, you two stood at the center of the gym, crying. When you calmed down and stop resisting, he pulled away enough to get a closer look of your face, he tilt your face up and capture your lips for a sweet and long kiss.

"I hate you.." you said in between kisses "I know.." and he replied but that didn't make Shoyo pull away. He broke the kiss when he felt your hands on his back, he looks at you but you averted his gaze.

Shoyo pulled you towards the stage and he lifts you up effortlessly and made you sit on the stage floor. He place his arms on each side of your body as he captures your lips for a kiss again. This time, your hands started to play on his orange locks, you feel like drowning each time he moves his lips. You hate how much grip he has on you, but what you hate the most is knowing you'll never be the same once you two part ways

"Open your mouth for me.."

"Mhm..!"

His now standing in between your thighs, one hand is place on your back while the other one is on the back of your neck. The deeper the kiss goes, the deeper you let yourself drown on to his love. When the both of you pulled away, a string of saliva appeared and you quickly cover your lips

"I planned to tell you that I'm going to Brazil the day I left the note on your locker. I guess you heard it from my teammates."

"No, not from your teammates. Didn't your seniors visited that day? I was passing by the gym when I heard them talk about it."

Shoyo hums and rest his head on the crook of your neck, his lips leaving soft feathering kiss there

"I love you, ____. I think about you all the time, every day and night. Even when I'm about to sleep, you're always on my mind. Not a day passes by where you're not included on my thoughts. I know that not telling you a little bit earlier of my plans is a bad move but it's because I'm also having trouble with it."

You softly stroke his hair and held hands with him, you miss being this close with him

"Trouble?"

"Mhm the thought of me leaving you all alone, the thought of me going somewhere where I'm away from the people I treasure, away from the person I love the most. It gives me so much pain, seeing your tears flow down from your cheeks while ago, it makes me want to back out from my own decision."

"No, I was being selfish. I want you to go after your dreams, I want you to shine more, Shoyo. I want the world to know just how good you are, I want to show the world what they're missing. Don't let my meaningless words and actions hold you back. Chase it, chase your dreams."

"But you're one of my dreams too. I want you to be at my side as I slowly reach the top. I want you near me. I want you to be there."

He cup your cheeks and kisses you lips which made you smile warmly and Shoyo couldn't help but fall even more harder

"And I will be there. I'm sorry for acting out of character. It was dumb for me."

"No, you're feelings are valid. If you were the one who did that to me, I'll have the same reaction."

You laugh softly and Shoyo kisses you once again, this time it's more full of his overflowing passion and desire for you.

"Stop pushing!"

"Fuck- I can't hear their voices."

"Guys we shouldn't be eavesdropping..."

"Tadashi is right guys!"

"The hell King! Move your ass!"

"What did you say Tsukishima?!"

"Stop it you two!"

You jolted away making you break away from the kiss and Shoyo let's out a annoyed sigh making you giggle and as soon the doors of the gym burst open and revealed Hitoka, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Kageyama.

"____, Hinata! Have you guys fix things up?"

Hitoka is the first one who spoke

"Just how long were you guys eavesdropping?" Shoyo ask

"When we heard ____ gasp for air." Kageyama answered

"What?!" You scream "Kageyama!" The setter look at his friends with annoyed expression, silently asking if what he said is wrong

"And that's why you can never have a girlfriend."

Tsukishima deadpans and that was the cue of them two bickering and you just can't help but shake your head. Shoyo squeezes your hand and you turn your head to look at him, he stole a quick kiss and press his forehead to yours

"I love you, ____."

"I love you too, Shoyo."

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─  The two of you have argued before, there was nothing new or strange about it. Sometimes, though not very often, you'd get upset at something he had said or done. He’d act without thinking, or speak without consideration; words sharpened by negligence, actions spurred on without thought. 

Like a wheel that is fated to see no end, spinning and turning on its axis — over and over, again and again — you watch the cycle of anger unfold. He’d drag a hand across his face and tell you to stop overreacting. You’d get irritated and he’d change his tone with you. Lower. Stricter. Harsher. 

“This was nothing” or “That didn’t mean anything,” — “You’re overthinking,” he’d say. 

And though it was a vicious cycle, patient and damning, you’d learned to adapt to its maliciousness; to the parts of it that drew out the worst in you. You’ve molded yourself to its shape and tried to understand where it stemmed from. Twisting and turning, pulling and pushing — the worst parts of him met the miserable parts of you.

You tried. You really did try. 

But the carelessness in which he'd started to approach said arguments was new, and his dismissive manner was starting to thin your patience. 

He ignores you as you walk behind him, trying to keep up with his long strides in the heels you’d worn for the night. 

“Why won’t you listen to me?” You plead with him as he stops abruptly at the penthouse door, shoving the key into the slot aggressively. You were getting tired of arguing about the same thing — worn out from having to bring it up so often. Why wouldn’t he listen? Why did he refuse to understand?

The door had just barely closed behind you, when he turns around, slamming the wall beside your head with a heavy hand. 

“Enough.” 

Ran’s eyes are filled with fury and impatience as he stares down at you. A terrible rage fills his lavender hues and you hesitate. There was no room for your anger in this house. No room for you when he was so domineering and present. He’s never been this loud with you — has never been so upset or mean. His tone startles you. 

And though you’ve argued before, though you’ve disagreed at times, you find that you don’t know how to deal with his anger — anger that has never been directed towards you to this extent. You just don’t know. 

It’s unsettling. There's a hole in your chest that is torn open, a passiveness settling inside.

You’re upset that he has consistently brushed you and your concerns off to the side. You’re upset that your worry had been interpreted as childish jealousy. You’re upset that the only time he had decided to take you seriously was to yell at you — to shut you up. 

He runs a hand through his hair as he pulls back and heads to the kitchen, shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it onto the couch. He leans against the counter and lights a cigarette in an attempt to calm his nerves. 

He'd expected you to start crying — half expected you to apologize even. You never liked fighting with him. He was never one to blow any argument out of proportion either. But this — this had to stop. No matter how many times he’d dismissed it, no matter how many times he’d told you not to worry about it, you still brought her up. Enough was enough. He looks up at you briefly, eyes flickering towards you as he exhales. 

There's a blank look in your eyes, a fragmentation he couldn’t understand. It felt as though you were looking through him. The parts of you that sought to intertwine with him and understand — that hollowed themselves out to make room for him — they fall back in defeat. 

Your eyes aren't glassy; they don’t even sparkle. 

He clenches his jaw and looks away. Guilt and haunt reach for his throat, as he shakily exhales the smoke.

You turn around, hand reaching for the wall as you bend to unclasp your heels. The right shoe comes off first. The left one follows after. He watches as you walk away with the shoes in your hand, fingers threading through the straps.

You don't say a word. He doesn't hear you make a sound.

The cold air of the restroom makes you aware of the slight wetness on your cheek. You stare at your reflection and you can’t help but wonder if the woman in the mirror was in the wrong. Were her feelings misguided by insecurity? Was her envy so green and her thoughts so vile? You tell her not to worry; that it’ll all be alright. You stare at your bruised toes as you fidget and sigh. You don’t even have it in you to cry.

You spend time with the other woman, washing away her fury; cleaning her anguish. Her breathing has steadied and she watches you from beyond the mirror as you wipe at your face, baring yourself to her. She’s satisfied and you turn your back on her temporary satisfaction, slipping into a loose dress and finding your place on the bed. 

He hasn’t bothered to come check up on you. To apologize to you.

 You push her nagging voice out of your head, stretching your legs out and picking up your phone instead. You scroll mindlessly for a minute or so before you decide to call a friend. It’ll help distract you, you think. You’ll call your dearest friend and she’ll make you laugh. You’ll laugh and you’ll smile and the filth encompassing your heart will wither away at your joy. 

Yes, that’s it. That’s exactly what you’ll do. 

“Hello?” She says. 

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

Silence from your end. 

A minute. Then two. 

“Ah, I get it. Do you want me to pick you up? We can go eat somewhere.”

“Yes, please.” You aren’t hungry at all. She knows that too. 

“Give me 20 minutes, I’m finishing up a shift right now.”

“Okay.”

More silence, this time from her end. Another minute. Another two. 

“Did he…he didn’t hurt you, right?”

You shake your head, the rustling making its way over to her end. 

“No, never. Not physically at least.” You try to smile, but the other woman insists on tugging at the corners of your mouth, pulling them down.

‘Break,' she says. ‘Break and ruin,' she wants to scream. 

You hear a dramatized sigh of relief through the phone.

“Ah, thank God. That bastard scares the shit out of me, honestly. But I’ll kill him if he ever lays a hand on you, you know that, don’t you?” 

You laugh and she smiles. 

“He wouldn’t, I promise. He isn’t so bad.”

“You’re not seriously defending him right now, are you?” 

You find it in you to laugh a little harder. She bids you a temporary farewell and you feel a little lighter. This is okay. It'd be okay if you both took a break…if you were separated from one another for a little — just until you were both able to calm down and think things through. 

You stand and rummage through your nightstand, putting a few things in the nearest tote bag and pulling it up over your shoulder. A light cardigan is folded over your arms as you quietly leave the bedroom. Ran is still in the kitchen, leaning over the island as he wipes a hand over his face. There's a glass of water beside him. You think he's trying to sober up, even though he didn't drink much at all. 

He looks up at the sound of your feet against the tile and his eyes soften at the sight of you. He’d been waiting for you to come out of the room, not wanting to push you too far. Still, you won't meet his gaze. 

It’s then that his line of sight falls to the bag on your shoulder. Panic fills the emptiness he’d been left with since you’d walked away. 

"What're you…No, wait a second. Hold on —"

He rounds the corner and slowly approaches you.

"Wait, we can talk about this."

Your brows furrow as you slip on your shoes, voice soft as you respond. 

"You said you didn't want to anymore."

Defeat, he thinks. Defeat is what laces your tone…like you’ve given up on him. On you and him.

"No,” He shakes his head as he steps a little closer to you. “We can talk about it. Let's talk about it, baby."

His eyes are trying to read you in a panicked frenzy, but still, you won't look at him. You take a step back, grip tightening on the strap of your bag.

“I think,” you bite your lip, brows furrowing as you try to find the right words. “I think it's best if I spend the night somewhere else."

“Fuck no.” 

You hold a hand out, a weak attempt at stopping him from getting any closer. He steps forward. You step back. He reaches out for you and you deny him. 

“Come on, love. Please.” 

What you say next comes out of you so quietly — so dismissively — had he not been so close to you, he might’ve missed it. You find it in you to finally meet his gaze as you utter the word. 

"Enough."

His karma comes in the form of six letters — the ones he’d spat at you so harshly less than an hour ago. But you’re still kind, even now. How quietly the word tumbled from your lips, how beautiful you were in all your anguish. His karma grins at his misery, and rejoices at his self-induced tragedy. 

"Please," he begs.

How pitiful. How cruel.

He grips your wrist when you turn to open the door, caging you in between his arms.

"Don't," he pleads.

You try to turn in his arms, tugging at his rolled-up sleeves, nails scratching at tattooed skin. His biceps flex as he holds you to him tighter. Closer. Don’t go. Don’t leave. You feel the rise and fall of his chest behind you — the racing of his heart as he holds you against him. You sigh, deciding to ease his mind. 

"I’ll come back, Ran. Just one night.” 

"No, no. Don't walk out on me."

He shakes his head at the thought, in misery and denial at its implication.

“I'm sorry."

He apologizes and you freeze in his hold, fingers stilling against his forearms. 

“I'm sorry," He says again. "I won’t raise my voice at you again. I'll never talk to her again. Won't even look at her, baby. I’ll cut all ties right now. Please just don’t go."

He keeps one arm wrapped around you as he reaches for his back pocket, pulling his phone out in the process. You blink, watching as he brings the device over to you, his fingers unlocking the screen as he looks over your shoulder, chin propped against you. You watch as he removes her from his Facebook. You watch as he blocks her on Instagram. You watch as he goes to delete her number. It’s then that you start to cry. You cry so hard, your shoulders tremble and your hands shake. You cry and you cry until you're overcome with the urge to vomit.

“Don’t cry, love. Don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

How did he let it get this bad? To ignore the pleas and worries of the one that gave him reason and meaning for the sake of maintaining a business relationship he didn’t give a shit about ─ To brush your pain off for the sake of an organization that only brought him misery...The twisted cynicism was almost laughable. Over and over, you'd asked him to listen to you. And over and over, he’d dismissed you.

It's his fault. It's all his fault.

No one else but him. 

His arms fall to his sides and he stands there, watching you.

You wipe at your cheeks haphazardly. His hands tremble as you step back. 

"All I asked was for you to establish clear boundaries with her."

Your hands shake as you point an accusatory finger at him. Your breathing falters, salty tears meeting your tongue as you try to find your words.

The other woman licks at your wounds. 'Destroy him,' she says. ‘Leave him,’ she whispers. You dig your nails into the skin of your palm at the violence of her words.

"But you made me seem like I was crazy for wanting that."

His eyes widen as he stares at you.

No longer covered in the green of her envy and guilt, she lines you with her red. You become one with your sorrow and fury. 

"Why couldn't you establish one simple boundary until I was about to walk out? What kind of girlfriend is supposed to be okay with seeing another woman press herself up against her boyfriend?"

You quiet for a moment, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand and his heart breaks at the sight of your stuttered breathing and tear-stained face.

"Cutting her off means nothing. Not when you brushed me off every time I brought it up.”

“Love ─,” 

You cut him off, mumbling to yourself as you pick at the skin of your nails. 

"God forbid someone even looks my way. But with you —" you snort and it's void of any emotion. 

His face darkens at that. 

"Watch your mouth," He steps closer.

You look away.

Lithe fingers grip your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up at him — into his eyes. Eyes that only desire you, that only love and lust after you. You, you, you. Always you. Only you.

She was nothing more than an old Bonten business partner, but you? You were everything.

He presses his lips to yours. Neither of you wavers in closing your eyes, the haziness of his own meeting with the anger in your irises, but he kisses you anyway. He kisses you and he kisses you. You don't kiss back.

The bag slips off your shoulder and you move to lift it back up. He refuses to let go of your jaw, lips moving against yours as he speaks.

"I love you."

"Liar," you whisper against him.

He groans and kisses you harder.

"God, I love you."

You shake your head in his grip but his hands are firm, squeezing your cheeks lightly, forcing your lips into a subtle pout. 

"Get this shit off already." He pulls your bag down to the floor and throws you over his shoulder.

“I don’t want to stay here tonight.” 

“Yeah? Where exactly were you gonna go?” He squeezes your hip as he walks towards the bedroom. He knows the answer, knows you would’ve been safe had you actually left. You might have smiled more tonight had he let you go with your friend; might’ve been spared of the tears you’d shed instead. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let you go. 

You rub at your eyes in exhaustion. 

“I’m not sleeping beside you. I don’t want you.”

He smacks your ass harshly before sliding a palm beneath your slip, stroking the skin gently.

"You're a liar, baby."

Please be lying, baby. 

You grip his shirt to keep from falling.

"I hate you,” You whisper out. 

He tightens his hold on your waist.

"No, you don't, princess."

His voice is low, strained. He prays you don’t hear the tremble in his tone. 

He sits you down onto the bed, kneeling before you on the floor. You go to pull your legs up but he stops you, palms gripping your ankles as he places his forehead onto your knees. 

“Don’t leave me.” 

The room is quiet, save for the low hum of the humidifier he’d forgotten to turn off before the two of you left. It’s a steady sound — soothing in its own right. You don’t say anything as his fingers rub at your calves, as he nuzzles his face into your skin.  

"I’ll do anything.” 

You’re stunned into a deeper silence, staring down at him in shock. It’s laughable really, how terrifying he is to others. Tall and threatening, dark eyes and a prideful smile — the Bonten executive’s standing was respected by most. Feared by all. 

And here he is, kneeling before his girlfriend, begging her to stay. 

You bring a hand down to brush through lavender strands, releasing a shaky breath, as you play with his hair. You speak and your voice is soft, not disturbing the still air around you. He freezes, listening intently. 

“She’s in love with you.” 

He can’t help the slight sound of indignation that he lets out. 

“No, she’s not. She’s just-”

“Just a business partner. I know.”

There’s a tremble to his hands as he leans forward on his knees, hiding his face in your lap as he grips your waist tight. 

“I’ll talk to the rest of the executives tomorrow, we’ll find someone else to ─”

You shake your head.

“That’s not what I’m asking from you.”

He looks up at you in confusion, fingers tight against your hips. 

“Then what?”

“I can’t —” You whimper and his heart breaks. “I can’t be with you if she’s going to disrespect me like that, if you’re going to let her disrespect me like that, every time we see her.” 

He watches you with a certain softness in his eyes as he climbs up onto the bed beside you. 

“What’re you talking about, baby?”

“Is it okay for her to touch you like that? You’re okay with that?” 

You pull away from him, folding your legs up to the side as you pick at a piece of lint on the comforter. 

He hadn’t thought much of it. The woman in question had been a long-time Bonten business partner, she’d known most of the executives for a decade. Her behaviors and antics, they were all used to it by now, aware that they had to put up with it to build a false sense of trust, to lul her company into an aura of security. Of all the execs to take a liking to, she’d chosen your boyfriend. Expensive nails that didn't belong to you were often wrapped around his bicep during events, and you’d watched off to the side ─ hoping, wishing that he’d say something. Anything. 

But nothing ever came out. Nothing was ever said. 

And you’d taken the brunt of it. Time and time again. 

“I can’t ruin Bonten’s relationship with her,” He had said once, the first time you ever brought it up. “Her company is a pivotal part of our projects.”

Watching her wipe the wine stain from his lips tonight, with you seated right beside him ─ it made you wonder how far she’d gone when you weren’t around. How far she was willing to go? How far would he let her go?

You look away at the thought. The light catches onto your tear stained cheeks and he hates himself.

He furrows his brows as he stares at the pattern you were making on the comforter, the trail your fingers created and left behind. He eyes the bruised skin of your cuticles and the chipped paint of your nails — a telltale sign of your anxiety. How had he missed that? He eyes the missing ring on your right hand and his breath hitches. When had you taken that off?

He feels sick. He’d noticed that you’d declined to go with him to Bonten events as of late. You stopped attending, telling him you were too tired. Too busy. “Another time,” you’d say. “Another time,” he’d smile and agree, kissing your forehead before he made his way out and left you alone. 

You’d lied to him to keep from arguing about this anymore, to keep yourself from doubting him. You’d lied and he’d fallen for it — thinking nothing strange of your behavior. And when you’d finally given in, deciding that you missed your boyfriend and that it was well within your right to go out to dinner with him — you had to sit and watch idly as she sat on the other side of him. On this cruel and unforgiving evening, you’d watched as she touched him and stared at him. You’d listened as suggestive jokes were exchanged and loud laughter was thrown across the table. You'd watched with a quiet that only the broken could understand. He’s a fool for not pulling your hand back into his once you’d pulled it out — an idiot for not following after you when you’d excused yourself to go to the restroom. He’s a moron for not seeing the hurt that you were in and the knives that dragged through your skin as he turned a blind eye. 

Cold metal is pressed to your skin and you shiver at the feeling of his rings against your cheek. His eyes carry a sadness you don’t recognize. 

“You’re my woman. You.” 

“Then act like it.” 

You move to your side of the bed, turning off your light as you send your friend a text. You’ll explain everything when you see her, you say. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.’ 

—

You sleep with your back facing him that night. Ran can’t find it in him to sleep at all. He’s scared, terrified that you’ll try to leave in the middle of the night — that you’ll leave just as wordlessly as you let your pain settle into your bones, and that he wouldn’t notice again. 

He’d been too careless with you recently. Too comfortable and neglectful. 

You turn in your sleep, unconsciously facing him, and he leans up on his arm to watch you. Carefully, gently, he lifts your hand up to meet his lips. Soft kisses are pressed to your knuckles and cuticles, to your palm and wrist. 

You don’t stir. 

He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead before it becomes too much for him. He’s overwhelmed and it hurts. It hurts to know that you hurt, and it hurts to know that you hurt because of him. 

Ran sits up and heads over to the living room, closing the door behind him quietly. 

He leans his head back against the couch, arm coming up to cover his eyes. A part of him thinks it’s ridiculous for a man of his power and standing to get worked up over his girlfriend like this. The other part of him doesn’t understand. He’d never been one for long-term relationships. Commitment had never been the issue either. They were just too much. Too much to deal with, too much work to be done — to care and to have to care, to trust, and to be trusted. It was all too much. He never bothered with the matter in its entirety.

But then he met you. And he’d asked you to stay. So you did. 

Caring came naturally to him then. Loving was even easier.

He sits alone in this dark room and thinks about you and him. He thinks and he hurts, and he's reminded of the words Sanzu had thrown at him last night. Ran is more than ashamed.

— 

“You’re losing her.”

“What’re you on about?” He had said, lighting his coworkers cigarette before leaning back to light his own. 

Sanzu had gestured to where you were standing, away from the crowd. You had an arm loosely wrapped around the street pole as you watched the Tokyo night traffic, waiting for your boyfriend to take you home. 

“She doesn’t look too happy.”

He frowns at Sanzu’s words, irritated by his comment. For an outsider to speak on his relationship with you, for another man to act like he could read you (and for him to be right about it too), Ran’s blood boils as he crushes the cigarette between his foot. He'd turned to look at you then, at the blank look on your face, wondering briefly just how much you kept to yourself. You had smiled weakly when he took your hand and led you to the garage. You said nothing else for the rest of the car ride. Until he prodded at you. Until it was too much for you to ignore. Until you came to the conclusion that should he want any other woman, you’d rather he let go of you first. Let me go, let me go, let me go. If I’m not enough, please let me go. 

He’d gotten pissed at you for that and had sped up his walking once the two of you got out of the car. The front desk personnel lowered their gazes as the two of you walked into the building, and you had quieted down out of respect for your relationship. 

─

His stomach churns and he soaks in his self-hatred. You could've reassured her. Could've held her hand a little tighter, could've kissed her a little longer. You fool. He hopes it isn’t too late. He groans and leans forward, running his hands through his hair aggressively as he covers his face with his palms. 

He’s too in his own head to notice that you’d woken up — that you’d been standing nervously at the end of the hallway, watching him. He lets out a choked sound and your heart falls victim to his silent pleas. You make your way to him, silently asking to be let into his arms and onto his lap. He startles but quickly makes room for you, staring at you with wide eyes as you place yourself onto his thighs, settling against his chest. 

Loving arms wrap around his neck as you turn your face to his chest. Undeserving palms stroke your back, pulling you in by the waist, ever closer. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He stares down at you in shock at the words you’d chosen to utter. 

“What? What’re you –?” 

You look at him and the darkness accompanying his eyes ─ at the lilac hues rimmed with red and purple, and subtle traces of blue as his veins surface beneath his skin. He was tired. So tired. Fragile fingers stroke his cheek, finding their way to the fine lines around his mouth. His stubble pricks your palm as he nuzzles his face into your skin. It's fascinating to watch a man of his stature — a man of his strength and power — fall weak to your touch. He wonders if you knew that he’d give up all that he was for a chance at forever with you. The money didn’t mean shit and his position was for naught if it meant you were hurt — if it meant you would leave. ‘If you leave, take me with you,’ his core wants to cry out. His arms wrap around you tighter as he hides his face in your neck and you blink in surprise. 

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” 

Your hands find the hairs at the back of his neck, twisting the black and lavender strands, tugging them gently beneath your fingers. 

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

He freezes. Your voice muffles against his hold. 

“I know you have obligations. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” 

Or worse, you want to say. I don’t want to get you killed over something so…

You shake your head at the thought.  

Even now, you’re still thinking of him? Even now, you’re putting him before you? He thinks it’d be fitting if he were to dig through the earth and call out to the devil himself. With bloody fingers and a dirty face, he’d call out and he’d say, ‘Come get me, come take me. This woman is too good for me.’

“I love you, I trust you. I won’t bring it up anymore.” 

You press a kiss to his throat, directly onto his tattoo, before you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, broad shoulders comforting you. He falls in love with you all over again. He keeps one arm firmly wrapped around your waist while the other trails up and down your thigh.

“Baby.”

You hum in acknowledgment, waiting for him to continue. 

He pries you off of him, gently setting you down in his place on the couch while you look at him in confusion. You settle into the warmth of where his body once was, watching him curiously. 

Ran kneels before you for the second time that night. His head is bowed slightly and his palms are flat against the cotton of his pants 

“This is all on me. Not you. I’m sorry, love.”

“Ran, get up.” 

You sit up, anxiously reaching for his arms but he shakes his head. 

“Please just listen." He swallows, gaze fixed on the ground. "I’m a real shit boyfriend. Put you through so much shit you shouldn’t have to deal with. I know you deserve better.” 

So much better. 

“But I love you. I need you. I’m selfish and fucked, but I need you. ”

You tilt your head at him as your lip quivers. His shoulders tremble slightly and you reach for his cheeks, hands on either side of his face as you lean forward. 

You kiss him then, for the first time all night. A languid kiss. ‘Feel all of me,’ it says. ‘Feel what you do to me.’ His brows furrow as he squeezes the skin of your thighs. You whimper against him and he smiles against your mouth, teeth touching, bones aching. 

He pulls you off of the couch by the waist and onto his lap as he embraces you. The two of you find refuge in the floor of the apartment. 

You stay on top, seated right on his hips as your tongue meets his. He bites the column of your throat and you tilt your head back in need, giving him access to the skin he wanted to mark.

“I belong to you,” he whispers against your skin. You sigh, fingers in his hair as he kisses and bites, as he licks and whines. He reaches for the palm you had spread against his jaw, moving it to his hips. 

“Ah, fuck.” 

He groans in your ear at the feeling of your skin against his, at the raw affection exchanged between the two of you. He missed you, he missed you — he doesn’t deserve you. You snap his train of thought in two as you slip your hand into his pants, watching the rise and fall of his sternum. You trail your eyes back to his face and find that he’s already staring at you. One arm reaches back for the collar of his shirt, and you fixate on the flex of his bicep as he tugs it off to reveal his chest.

“My woman,” he grunts. 

You nod distractedly, cheeks heating up at the intimacy. Something in him snaps when you slip the straps of your night dress off, lifting the hem to expose your underwear to him. 

“Shit, you’re —” He cuts himself off to slip the flimsy cloth to the side. You stroke him as he prods into you, moaning into each other's mouths, staring at each other with desperate eyes. Love and lust and need and want. He wants to fill you with all the words he couldn’t properly say. Again and again, he'd find you. Should he be damned to a fate where you aren't beside him, he'd spend forever looking for you ─ for the home he'd found within you. Never again would he let it get this bad. Never again will he make you feel unwanted or unloved. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful.” 

He kisses your chest, words vibrating against the skin as he speaks. 

“I’m sorry, pretty. I’m sorry.” 

“I forgive you.” you cry out as he touches you deeper, rubs at you faster. 

“Real shitty guy, aren’t I?” He lets out a strained laugh as your hand falters against him. “Not good for you, am I?”

You shake your head, eyes shut tight as a familiar feeling washes over you. 

“I – oh,” You cry out, unable to finish your sentence as you collapse in his arms.  “I love you. Please, please.”

“Please what, baby? What is it?” 

He lays you down, hovering over you as he bites at your lower lip, appreciating the curve and swell. 

You spread your legs and he swears. 

“Please.”

“Yeah. Shit, yeah. Anything for you.” 

He can’t find it in him to strip you completely. You don’t care enough that his pants are still somewhat on. But with each snap of his hips, he finds you and you find him. 

He’s a sorry excuse of a person, a vindictive, hurtful soul. A damaged man with the world at his feet and his heart in your hands. He’d handed it to you himself with a hammer in tow. Should he ever go too far — crush his very spirit and rid of him of whatever is left of his soul. 

But he knew. He knew that he’d be forced to sit and watch as you tenderly held the flesh. He’d sit with his legs crossed and his cheek in his palm, watching as you soothed the erratic pulsing.

‘What about the dark spots?’ He had wondered. ‘The filth and the corrupted gloom. How will she handle that? Will she throw them out? Look at them in disgust and try to change them?’

(He receives his answer time and time again — answered over and over by the one person who didn’t realize they were even being questioned.) 

He'd watched as you held his heart, with all of its twisted calamities, and placed it right against yours — as if it wasn't stained, as if it wouldn't taint you for as long as you stood. And for the first time in a long, long time, Ran Haitani had resisted the urge to cry. 

—

He doesn’t let you go as you try to get up from off the floor. 

“I didn’t pull out,” He mumbles. “That’s my bad.” 

“I know,” You whisper back, into the darkness of the room.

“Are you baby trapping me?” He lifts an eyebrow, cracking one eye open as he grins at you.

“You’re the one that wouldn’t let me go, perv.” 

You flick his forehead and he laughs beside you lazily. The two of you are eye to eye and a complete mess at that. 

“I need to go clean up,” you say when he shoots his hand out to your wrist to stop you from standing. 

“No, I want to go again.”

“You’ll fall asleep midway.” 

He grins and you laugh. 

“Hey.”

“Hm?” There’s still a hint of a smile on your face as you pull your gown back into place.

“Tonight…” he turns to face you, eyes heavy with sleep. “I won’t let that happen again.”

You don’t look at him as you fiddle with the straps, tugging at them till they seem somewhat right.

“Look at me.” 

He sits and tilts your chin towards him. Hesitance. Worry. (And though you’ve forgiven him, there’s still pain in your eyes.) 

“I was in the wrong, and I hurt you for a long time. It won’t happen again.” 

You stare back into his eyes — into the aftermath of your apocalypse. You want to tuck him into your ribs, to cage him in and hold him tight. And though he was older and had lived a life that had picked him apart more times than he could count, you don’t think you have it in you to surrender him to the darkness. Your naivety has you following after him eagerly — no matter where he takes you, no matter where you go. You’d pick up the parts he threw out on the way, and you’d ease yourself into the emptiness of his soul. You’d placate his hunger for love and give him a place to belong. 

He stares at you, anxiously waiting for a response. All you can do is nod. 

He sighs in relief. You kiss his nose softly before you stand, giggling as he groans at your insistence on leaving the confines of his arms. He lays back down as you steady yourself, eyeing your hips before he reaches up to lift the hem of your nightgown, whistling when he eyes the damage he’d done.

“Nasty old man.”

He laughs and it’s full of life – filled with love and joy and you. 

“You're into nasty old guys?”

You laugh as you walk away, turning to look at him as he grins at you. 

“Just this one.” 

He groans as he gets up, long legs chasing after you as you run away. It’s late, much later than he ever liked to stay up. But he’s home. He’s in your arms as he lets you fall back onto the bed, rejoicing in your laughter as he attacks your stomach with sporadic kisses. You’re here, and he’s home. 

You lay on your side, holding him to you, as he nods off against your chest. A tattooed arm is thrown over your waist while the other falls slack near your thigh. The pain of the night lingers idly, wondering what will become of itself. You’ve killed the envy inside you, held hands with the fragility of the red woman that had insisted on coming out of you.

Ran Haitani is a large man, not small by any means. But underneath the prying moonlight, you think he looks vulnerable. Men of hurt will only know hurt, while the good of the world remains a foreign entity. He’s lucky, in that sense. There is a woman to hold him as he sleeps, a woman he trusts enough to fall victim to. And if he came home to you covered in blood from head to toe, covered in the sin of the world, baring the weight of their tragedy, he’d stare at you and say “Disgusting, isn’t it?” And he’d watch you shake your head, ‘No’.

“It isn’t so bad.”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.

Bad Medicine

Ran Haitani x f reader

Reader is a veterinary surgeon. You specialize in treating animals. You never expected your shift to end like this- a loaded gun pointed at your head, performing an emergency operation on one of the most dangerous criminal members of Bonten.

CW: fem reader, gun threats, blood mention, blackmail(?)

There's a pattern used in the underworld by criminals when they get injured badly enough to have to seek professional medical help.

Injuries that go beyond the limits of pouring vodka on a stab wound, and getting your boys to patch it up in the morning.

When these things happen, criminals prefer to avoid actual hospitals. They don't need the police sticking their noses into their affairs anymore than usual.

So the common alternative among gangs, thieves, and ex-convicts on the run, is to seek out a Veterinarian clinic.

Vets are basically doctors... right? Granted it might be harder for them to perform on an animal ten times the size they are usually operating on, or stitching up.

But you're left without much of a choice when the Haitani brothers enter your clinic just after close.

There's a whole mess of blood trailing through the lobby and a man with a gun carrying another nearly-unconscious man on his shoulder.

The conscious one with the octopus haircut is shouting so many things at you, that it's hard to process at first.

"We need help...! He's losing blood, damn it!"

"Get some towels...! and bandages.. Shit.. Shit! I don't know what to do!"

"Ran..? Ran! are you still with me? Fuck! ....Don't you dare die on me-! You hear me?!"

You have a pistol pointed between your eyes and your hands in the air screaming about how you'll give them the money if they don't shoot.

"Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up already! Just save my brother! He's been shot! You're a doctor right?"

It dawns on you that you could be killed if you don't comply. The severity of this situation is life or death. The man on his shoulder, his brother, apparently, is losing a lot of blood.

You're stunned when the bleeding man manages to raise his head a little to speak.

"You'll have to forgive my little brother's language- he's just so scared his big brother might die, ya know?"

You manage to prepare the operating table as quickly as you can under the amount of pressure you're under. Ran removes his shirt and lays on the table. There's two bullet wounds in his side.

You don't have the time to sedate him, and you aren't sure if he's even in any condition to go under anesthesia. He could stop breathing or end up choking on the contents of his stomach if he's eaten in the last 24 hours.

Ran is surprisingly tolerant of pain. He keeps this lazy smile on his face while you work on retrieving the bits of the bullet. His face will scrunch up a little if you dig the tweezers in too deeply, but he's pretty resilient for the most part.

It catches you off guard when the man bleeding on your operating table begins to strike up a friendly conversation with you, all while his brother keeps his weapon pressed to your back and a deep scowl on his face.

He's already crushed your cell phone to bits under his shoe, and you're too scared out of your wits to think about running off or contacting help.

"Hurry it up, doc," he spits at you, shoving the barrel of his gun harder into your back.

Rindou, his name you learned from the other, Ran. He clearly seems to care a lot about his brother. You can gather that much of their bond from the hours spent in your clinic, late into the night until sun rise.

Ran slipped out of consciousness sometime during the process. Rindou, despite his panic had agreed to give his blood for a transfusion. The brothers were lucky they shared the same blood type. Or he may not have survived the night.

Rindou has very obviously been fighting back tears, and exhaustion, repeating the same thing every so often with the faintest crack in his voice.

He better not die.

Over the course of the early morning, you finish up your work. You're sweaty and covered in another person's blood. Your cell phone is cracked to pieces. The lobby is stained with a substantial amount of blood as well, and the front door to your clinic has been knocked off the hinges.

Ran isn't well enough to move around, but he survives.

He's back on his feet sooner than you expect. Rindou seems to have finally calmed down. He's finally lowered his gun and took a minute to breathe.

You catch bits of their exchange as you clean up your tools and wash up your face and arms the best you can in the sink.

"You really had me scared, you son of a bitch."

"I'm not gonna go dying on you just yet. Who do you think I am? We're a team. You and me together, always."

You turn away, not wanting to seem as though you're eavesdropping. But Rindou approaches you anyway. You weren't exactly expecting any sort of thanks per say, but it did come to you as a shock when he pulls a wad of bills from his blazer, tossing it into the counter.

"Keep your mouth shut about what happened here tonight. And get that door fixed. If we hear about the cops coming around here, you'll be the next one bleeding out in this lobby."

With that, he leaves, popping a cigarette in his mouth and heading outside to smoke out front while Ran finishes fixing his hair in the mirror.

His hair should be the least of his worries, you tell him, holding out a small bottle of pain killers.

"Take two of these, evening and night. And change those bandages daily."

He really shouldn't move around so much until he's healed, but he seemed to be doing fine.

He takes the pill bottle with a look you can't quite place. He smiles at you, says thank you. But it hardly feels genuine.

You saved this man's life- but he's still a criminal. You worry about the future of your safety in this city.

Your worries are only confirmed when Ran gives you a little pat on the shoulder, speaking low into your ear. Despite the polite way he spoke, his tone still gave you chills.

"We're not finished here. I'll send some guys to help you fix up the front door tomorrow."

You sigh, hanging your head. The last thing you wanted was more men with guns near your job. You we're just trying to make a living- same as anyone else.

Why on Earth was this happening to you?

Ran speaks with a bit of sympathy. You must be exhausted. You expect he must be looking at you with some degree of disgust. You're dressed in bloody scrubs and your face and hair is damp with sweat.

His eyes soften, and he tells you he's sorry about your phone.

"Rindou doesn't like cops. I'm not fond of them myself either."

He trusts you can understand why it's necessary that you don't talk about what happened tonight with anyone else, right?

You nod, you weren't going to phone the police. You weren't that stupid. And you didn't have a death wish. You just wanted to get home and shower and get some sleep before you had to work again.

Good. Very good, Ran notes, leaving you to close up the clinic and be on your way home.

He makes a note of the street the taxi you flagged turns on as he lights up a cigarette next to Rindou. Both men watching as the vehicle disappears into traffic.

"You think that bitch is gonna go running her mouth?" Rindou asks, stomping out his second cigarette on the sidewalk.

"Should we take care of her?"

"Hmm.. We'll see."

Ran gives him a smile he's seen before. He's thinking about something.

Fuck, his sides hurt, he thinks as he climbs into the passenger side of the car. He's gonna be limping around the rest of the week. He takes two painkillers on the ride home, stretching out his long legs with a sigh.

Rindou bitches at him for bleeding all over his interior. He's back to his normal self, a good sign that this whole thing has finally slowed down.

The sunlight warms his face, and it's then that he's truly grateful he's able to feel such a thing for another day, all thanks to you.

He'd stayed calm for his brother's sake. But he really could have died today. He ought to show his thanks.

The first order of business would be fixing the door they'd kicked in. But maybe he'd get you a new phone. He'd put his number in it, of course. And he'd be expecting you to pick up when he calls.

It's funny how such a short interaction has left him so curious about you, and wanting to see you again.

You're good at your job. You're also clearly skilled at working under pressure. You didn't do anything stupid like scream or go running for the phone. Or trying to put a scalpel in his throat when his defences were left wide open. Granted Rindou was holding his gun on you the whole time, but you handled the whole situation with a level head. He couldn't help but think about how attractive that was.

He wondered what kind of life you'd lived until now. You've clearly seen blood before, at least from animals in your line of work. He wondered what you did outside of this job. He wondered where you lived. That kind of information should be easy enough to find.

You hadn't told him your name, nor had he asked, despite wanting to. There was just a better time and a place for such things.

That didn't mean he hadn't noticed the name tag pinned to your bloody lab coat you'd tossed on the floor. He knew your last name, and the location of your clinic. That should be more than enough to track you down in the days to come.

You could definitely prove useful in the future if these events ever repeat themselves. It's hard to find a good medic under the table in this city who won't try to ask for loads of cash or go blabbering off to the law.

Plus you're really cute. He wouldn't mind coming back here just to see you again. It really works out perfectly. He'll have to run this information by the rest of the gang once they make it back.

oikawa does think that tobio's baby is extremely cute and that causes an internal conflict like u would not believe

I Can Do It Better.

{ Obanai x Mitsuri x Fem! Reader} smut

Warnings: explicit sex, threesome, puthy eating, fingering, spitting, rough sex, slapping, name calling, cervix bruising, a bit of dub-con? forced cum swallowing, semi-forced sex tbh the reader didn’t realize what she getting into

A/N: I offer you more food, I hope you enjoy since I teased the shit out of this. Hopefully I didn’t set your expectations too high 😭

Word count: 6.6k

“Please?” Mitsuri was hugging Obanai’s arm tightly, blinking at him with wide eyes. How was he supposed to say no when she was batting her eyelashes like that? “I’ll think about it.” Obanai could never say no to that woman, no matter how hard he tried. “Thank you!” Her arms wrapped around his neck, practically suffocating him against her chest. “I’ll let you bring it up at lunch.” He concluded as she pulled away.

So what exactly was Mitsuri trying so desperately to convince him on? You. She was trying to convince him to let you share their bed for a night. Obanai knew how much she loved people, it was just part of her nature. While he also knew the only person she felt romantically for was him, it was still a bit jarring to hear her bring up the idea of a threesome.

Most men would probably be ecstatic if their girlfriend was bringing up the idea of adding another beautiful girl to the mix. But Obanai knew you, and well…he didn’t like you. The main reason for his dislike was because of the affection Mitsuri bestowed upon you. She treated you just a little differently than everyone else, it was starting to remind him of how she treated him. In his eyes, you were becoming competition.

“Good afternoon!” Your voice reached his ears and he visibly flinched. “Good afternoon, y/n!” Mitsuri motioned you to sit next to her at the table, leaving Obanai alone on the other side. “Nice to see you, Obanai.” You weren’t exactly fond of the snake pillar, but it was only because of his stand-off attitude towards you. For Mitsuri’s sake, you tried to suck it up.

You smiled as the waitress dropped off an ungodly amount of food, most of which would be consumed by the girl sitting next to you. It was normal for Mitsuri to arrive earlier than the other people in her party to get her food ordered. That way it would all be ready by the time others arrived. “Aren’t you going to say hello back to me, Obanai?” You thanked Mitsuri softly as she handed you a bowl of udon.

“Hi.” Was all you got, not even bothering to look at you.

“Obanai! Be nice, I’m sorry about him y/n.” You shook your head, slightly annoyed that the pink haired girl had to try and cover her boyfriend's ass. “Oh you have nothing to apologize for, I’m used to his cold attitude.” You slurped down some of your food, eyeing Obanai who didn’t have anything in front of him.

The man wouldn’t eat out in public, if it meant he had to take off the bandages. As much as you didn’t like the man, you knew better than to ever bring those scars up, at least that's what you imagined resided under there. “Will you eat later?” Obanai was watching Mitsuri down her second bowl with a smile, one that faltered when he heard your voice. “Yes.”

“Obanai always eats when we get home! I make sure of it!”

“That’s good!” You could have sworn Obanai mimicked you under his breath. You decided to ignore the man, focusing your attention on the woman beside you. “So why did you invite me to lunch, Mitsuri?” It wasn’t every day that you got the privilege of eating lunch with the two pillars. “Oh! We can get into that in a little while, enjoy your food.”

That didn’t make you feel any better, the nerves in your stomach making you lose your appetite a bit. “When you put it like that Mitsuri, it sounds bad.” You glanced over to see Kaburamaru wiggle his head in the direction of your food.“Does it?” She was replacing her empty bowl with a third as she spoke. “It sounds like we are going to off her after the meal.” Obanai’s cheek rested against his hand now.

“Well…I am certainly trying to get her off.” You choked on your food at that, a vein in Obanai’s forehead beginning to twitch. “You’re what?” Your head whipped around to face the woman, a blush apparent on her cheeks. “Okay fine, I’ll just tell you now.” Your eyes shot over to Obanai who suddenly seemed disinterested in the conversation. “I want to have a threesome. Me, you and Obanai.”

You continued to stare at the man across from you in shock, eyes not leaving him as you responded to Mitsuri. “You’re telling me this man is okay with that?” You found it hard to believe Obanai would ever agree to something like that, then again he’d give Mitsuri whatever she wanted. “I’m allowing it because Mitsuri wants it.”

“Well if that’s the case, I’d be happy to accept if Obanai stopped kicking me under the table.” You narrowed your eyes at him, Mitsuri’s head moved to look under the table. The second she did, he stopped. “Obanai! What did I tell you.” Her bottom lip trembled, effectively stopping any more attacks on you.

The rest of your lunch continued in a comfortable silence. Both you and Obanai watching as Mitsuri downed twelve whole bowls of udon and three plates of onigiri. “So I have to ask…when exactly is this threesome to happen?” You felt nervous butterflies at the idea of sharing a bed with Mitsuri. “Today? I think today will be good.” Mitsuri was writing a thank you note for the cooks and servers while Obanai paid.

“Today?” She certainly wasn’t giving you much time to prepare yourself. You didn’t realize yet that part of your nerves were coming from the idea of Obanai seeing you naked. “Is that not okay? Do you have a mission?” Mitsuri seemed to deflate at your hesitant response. “No! I just wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon.” You tried to relax the nerves you felt before you made yourself sick.

“It’s nothing to get scared about! It’s me! And Obanai…but mostly me. I know you two don’t get along all that well, but he won’t do anything you don’t want.” She finished her note with a little heart, leaving it by the empty dishes. She took your hand after, following you towards the entrance while giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Are you ready my love?” You had never heard the man use such a sweet tone.

“Sure am.” You held back a laugh as his face morphed into one of disgust at your response. Mitsuri began trying to stifle her giggles behind you. “I can’t stand you.” He was walking out the door as he spoke. “Then sit down.” Mitsuri’s giggles burst out from behind you, watching Obanai’s eyes roll. “Don’t make me change my mind.” You highly doubted he’d ever change his mind when it came to a decision involving Mitsuri.

“How about we get some drinks?” You could honestly use some liquid courage for this. You weren’t that intimidated by Mitsuri, Obanai was more daunting than she was. “Oh that’s a good idea!” Mitsuri jumped at the thought, breast bouncing in a way that had both sets of eyes zeroing in on her. “I think you could both use something to relax, help you get in the mood.”

Mitsuri hooked her arm with Obanai, pulling him to her so she was sandwiched between the two of you as she walked. You felt his eyes land on you, you decided to ignore it since you were positive it was a glare. “You get one sip, you’re a lightweight and you know it. Y/N and I get the rest, unless she’s a lightweight too.” “I’m no lightweight Obanai, you don’t have to worry about me.” You found it a bit hard to believe the man handled alcohol well. “That settles it then.”

“Well that certainly did settle it” you shook your head as you downed your third cup of sake. Obanai had yet to have any, the bandages still wrapped around his face. “You gotta take them off eventually.” Mitsuri poked his cheek, her own were slightly rosy from the single cup of sake she had thirty minutes prior.

You were sitting on the floor of their shared bedroom, your back pressed to the foot of their bed. “I’ll take them off when I’m ready.” One of your few questions had been answered by the time you reached their estate, Kaburamaru was not present when the two had sex. Turns out, Kaburamaru has his very own room.

“I think I’ll be sober by the time you’re ready.” You're feeling a bit tipsy, the sake was warming you up from the inside out. Your eyes trailed to Mitsuri’s legs, up towards her breasts and then back to her thighs. You felt your mouth water, you wished the man next to you would hurry up and join the fun so you could.

“Her eyes aren’t down there.” You felt your cheeks heat as Obanai called you out. “I know they aren’t.” You glanced up at him before looking back at Mitsuri, a dopey grin appearing on her face. “Obanai? Can we please get started? At least let us have some fun while you get ready.” She drew out nearly every word, putting her hands together in a begging motion that made her breasts look even larger.

You watched Obanai do exactly what he had just scolded you for, a scoff leaving your lips as you glared at him. “Of course you can, baby, have fun.” The sudden switch up was still catching you off guard. Mitsuri wasted no time, nearly knocking the empty cup out of your hands as she crashed her lips to yours. “Mmph! Mi-mm-Mitsuri!” You pulled away from her, drool already covering your lips.

“On the bed, I don’t want to do this on the floor.” You began to laugh, cupping her cheeks to squish them together when she began to pout. You yelped in shock when Mitsuri pulled you up and pushed you to the bed in one swift movement. You landed with a thump on your stomach, rolling over as Mitsuri climbed on top of you. “This is going to be so much fun.” She cooed softly, as if she wanted only you to hear her.

Your eyes traveled lower yet again to where her chest was pressed against your own. You felt intoxicated, and not because of the sake you had consumed. “Kiss me.” You didn’t intend to sound so desperate, the whine that left the woman above you was all you could think about as her lips met yours again in a more proper first kiss.

She began tugging at your kimono, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip to ask for entrance. “I’m not used to seeing you on top.” You barely registered Obanai’s voice, not when Mitsuri had already begun to grind herself against you. Everything was happening quickly, Mitsuri was far more eager than you had been expecting.

You gathered yourself, leg coming up to hook around Mitsuri’s waist. You used that for leverage as you flipped her over so you were on top. Her pink braids splay out around her, the kimono nearly coming undone has her breasts spilled out. “Oh…fuck.” Your cheeks went hot as you felt your clit begin to throb between your legs. The sensation fueling you to kiss her again.

“So…” you kissed her “hot…” and again “Mitsuri.” And again.

Your hands moved up her body slowly, feeling every curve through the thin kimono as you finally pulled it apart completely. You parted from her lips again, taking in every inch of her now fully exposed breasts. “Holy fuck ‘Suri…” your words were slightly slurred, the drool pooling in your mouth slightly comical to you as you looked at her breasts.

They were, in every sense of the word, perfect.

You pushed yourself upwards so you were on your knees, looking down at her and nearly crumbling at the sight.

“You are one lucky bastard, Obanai.” You nearly yelled as you looked over to see him sitting on the bed beside the two of you. When the hell did he even get up there? You glanced down at Mitsuri again, hands shakily coming up to cup both breasts.

Halfway there, it registered in your mind what you had just seen. You looked back up, staring at him in shock, this was the very first time you were seeing the man without his bandages. “Don’t look at me like that.” You didn’t say a word, mouth slightly parted but nothing would come out. When you realized how poorly that reaction may be taken, you choked it out. “You’re beautiful.”

It killed you just a bit to compliment the man, you noticed the way his eyes opened slightly wider before directing his attention on Mitsuri. What you didn’t realize was Mitsuri’s look of hope, her green eyes twinkling under the dim light of the bedroom. Your eyes shifted between the two of them, and by the two of them I mean Obanai’s scars and Mitsuri’s breasts.

You decided it was better to focus on Mitsuri, it was unlikely Obanai would even want to touch you during this whole event. Her breasts were warm and soft under your fingers, definitely better than you could have ever imagined. You glanced up every few seconds to gauge her reaction, watching her lower lip tremble as you ghosted her nipple.

You felt Obanai’s eyes boring into you, as if ready to strike if you made a single wrong move. Carefully, with shaky fingers, you pinched the sensitive pink flesh, feeling Mitsuri jolt as a choked moan left her lips. “We’ll be here all day if you move that slow.” You gasped as Obanai practically shoved you away, causing you to land on the mattress with a thump.

“How about I show you what she likes and dislikes?” You wanted to yell at him for taking your moment, but the moment his lips crashed against Mitsuri’s…you were entranced. You watched thin fingers snake up her body until they met her breast, squeezing the flesh a few times before rolling her nipple between his fingers. Mitsuri moaned against his lips, back arching slightly as he helped her remove her arms from her kimono.

Obanai was still fully dressed in his corps uniform, the first few buttons undone but that was it. You watched red splotches appear on her skin wherever the uniform lingered for too long. Maybe it was the slight buzz you had going that gave you confidence, but you pushed him off of her. “What the fuck?” He gave you a glare that was so cold you could have shivered, that was until his eyes trailed to your chest. Your breasts had fully spilled out of the kimono’s top, a small smirk tugged at his lips as you tried to cover yourself.

“Not to be rude, but your uniform was irritating her skin.” The slight red patches were already starting to fade. Obanai’s eyes actually widened a bit, looking at Mitsuri in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Obanai began undoing his uniform without hesitation. “Oh I don’t care! Deal with all the technical stuff later! Just make me feel good.” Mitsuri’s hand pulled at your kimono, causing it to fall open once more as she pulled you on top of her.

“Don’t worry about him, y/n~ just have fun with me.” You were breast to breast, your cheeks were probably on fire at this point. You reposition yourself so your thighs cage in her waist, allowing her to pull the top of your kimono off as well. You glanced beside you, Obanai was topless now, his belt also thrown off to the side but his pants were still on. You had to force your eyes down, you didn’t expect him to have the body he did.

Muscles covered his entire frame, it would make sense considering how often he trained…but still.

Your lips were back on Mitsuri’s, tongues sliding along each other as you attempted to take the rest of her kimono off. The throb between your legs became hard to ignore as you pulled the belt loose that held the material together. You wanted to pull away from her again, just to see her whole body exposed to you but she refused. Her hands came down to squeeze the flesh of your ass, holding you in place.

“Let me…taste you.” You choked out between each kiss, her grip loosening at the thought. You took the wiggle room as a yes, lips traveling down to her jaw and then her neck. You sucked along her pulse point, leaving red marks in your wake. You were going to cover her in your marks just to spite Obanai. He seemed to catch on to your little stunt, grabbing a fistful of your hair he yanked you back.

“Cut the shit.” His voice paired with his newly revealed scars actually made you shiver this time. “Make me.” His grip loosened just enough for you to go back down, teeth grazing her collarbone and making her whimper. You moved further down, lips finally meeting the plush of her chest. You sucked on each bit of sensitive flesh until it was turning purple, finally letting your teeth graze her perked nipples. “Y/n!” You felt confident when she cried your name like that.

You moved to her other breast, repeating the same motions until she had tears leaking down her cheeks. “You really are sensitive, huh Mitsuri?” You wiped her tears with your thumb, you could feel your own arousal leaking onto your underwear as you kissed her again. You decided you didn’t want to waste anymore time toying with her, not when Obanai could easily overpower you and do as he pleased. You moved yourself off the bed, falling to your knees. “You okay with this, Mitsuri?” You were tugging her kimono out from under her, tossing it to the floor.

All that was left between your mouth and her cunt was the flimsy underwear with a wet patch from her arousal. “Y-yes…please…yes.” You're pulling off the rest of your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear as well. You grabbed her thighs, dragging her towards the bed’s edge. “I’m going to enjoy this.” You were looking at Obanai as you spoke, thr scowl on his face only pushing you more.

You hooked your fingers under the waistband, tugging them off her and throwing them to the floor as well. Your eyes glanced up at him once more before turning your full attention to Mitsuri’s cunt. Your eyes widened considerably as you tried to fully absorb what you were looking at. If you thought her breasts were perfect, you clearly hadn’t taken a look at her cunt.

You ran shaky hands up her thighs, coaxing her to spread them wider for you. “You are…one lucky son of a bitch Obanai.” You could have sworn that from the corner of your eye, he smirked. He knew he was lucky, but he himself still didn’t understand how he managed to get a woman like Mitsuri. You made eye contact with the pink haired girl over her own plump chest, a slight nod of her head absolutely assured you that she was ready.

You used two fingers to carefully spread her slick lips apart, swallowing thickly as you were met with plump pink flesh and her dripping entrance. Never in your life did you think you’d wish to have a dick, you could only begin to imagine the pleasure she would be able to bring you if you did. “Fuck…” your voice felt hoarse, as if it hurt to talk. Your tongue darted outwards, wetting your lips before you moved closer, mouth hovering just over her twitching clit.

You could feel Obanai’s eyes boring into you, as if waiting for you to make a single wrong move. Lowering your mouth felt like it took an eternity, the nerves in your stomach mixing with your own needy desires were killing you. You poked at her clit with your tongue, licking up the pulsing bundle slowly until she began to whine. “Y/n…y/n…’lease~” you couldn’t keep the woman waiting, teasing clearly wasn’t something she enjoyed.

So you began to move with more intention, tongue wiggling side to side in quick motions. “O-oh!” Her hips bucked upwards, pushing you further into her fluttering cunt. You steadied yourself by holding onto the jiggling flesh of her thighs, suffocating yourself on her dripping pussy. You could feel her quivering beneath you, delicate fingers digging into your scalp just to keep you in place.

“Gonna…gonna come…” her words were slurred, as if drunk off of your tongue. Her cries weren’t enough, you wanted to hear her scream. Carefully you plunged a single digit into her wet entrance, the action alone causing her to release a high pitched moan. You pumped slowly, massaging her gooey walls with your finger before slowly introducing a second. You could tell she enjoyed the second addition by the way her cunt clenched around you, squeezing your fingers so tightly you could barely move.

You finally got the courage to look upward, mouth never leaving her pulsing clit as you locked eyes with Obanai.

The man looked livid, disappointed even. As if he had been hoping this entire time that you’d fail. That irritated you, fingers moving just a little harder until you pressed into a spongy part that ripped a scream from the pink haired woman’s throat. “O-oh! Oh! Y/n!” You felt hot all over, and not because of her thighs encasing your head. The persistent pulsing between your legs was beginning to get on your nerves.

Obanai on the other hand was fuming, he was so certain you’d fail. There were tears streaking Mitsuri’s face for fuck sake, the way her thighs trembled? He was furious at your obvious experience. You - on the other hand -felt Mitsuri grow wetter, her walls beginning to make squelching noises around your fingers as you continued. All that could be heard were her muffled cries, her thighs essentially putting your head in a chokehold as you began sucking the bundle of nerves.

You knew she was close by the way her walls nearly held your fingers in place, wails turning into breathy gasps as she reached her end. All it took was a few more pumps, just a little harsher sucking, and she was spilling over you. Or rather…on to you. You nearly yelled in surprise as warm liquid gushed down your chin and neck, leaking slowly onto your bare breasts. You pulled her thighs away from your head, gasping for breath as you looked down at the mess she had created.

After a moment of shocked silence, Obanai’s patience snapped.

He shot forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair again and yanking your off your knees. “Fuck! That hurts!” Your eyes widened considerably when his nails dug into your cheek, effectively shutting you up. “I’ve had just about enough of you.” His face was inches from yours, you were nearly standing now. You took in his face, eyes trailing down to his lips. “You think I’d kiss you? You don’t deserve that. You’re nothing to me, don’t forget it.” You flinched as he forcefully opened your mouth, spitting into it with a cruel smirk.

“Swallow it.”

You did as you were told, it’s not like you had a choice. Humiliation flooded your cheeks, eyes downcast in shame as he forced you down on the mattress. “Obanai…” Mitsuri’s voice sounded far away, as if she was about to fall asleep. “Don’t worry about anything, she’s fine.” That was a bold lie coming from him, especially as his hand came down to hold your head in place against the mattress.

“Be careful…with her please.” Mitsuri was slowly shifting to her side, pulling herself fully into the mattress to see what exactly her boyfriend planned on doing to you. “Ain’t got no need for these.” You gasped as he ripped your underwear clean off, skin burning slightly from the force. His hand moved from your head to your back, then down to your hips.

“You better listen to every fucking word I say.” He was cold, calloused fingers grazing the tender flesh of your hips as he pulled you up. Your knees now sunk into the mattress, you were too afraid to lift your head.

You heard rustling behind you, signifying he was undressing the rest of his body. You snuck a glance backwards, catching the smallest glimpse of him through your spread legs. “I can’t fuck Mitsuri like this, she’s too sensitive. You on the other hand? You’re going to take it and fucking appreciate it.” He was back by your side, pressing down on your back, forcing your ass up in the air. “Careful Obanai…don’t hurt her.” You whined at Mitsuri’s pleas, you could feel his anger just by the way he was pushing you down.

“She’ll survive, she’ll just need help walking after.”

A swift slap rang through the room, you barely had time to process what he did. Instead, red hot pain bloomed across your asscheek in a way that had you clawing at the sheets. Another hit had a scream crawling up your throat, tears burning your eyes as Obanai abused the already hot skin. “H-hey!” Those pleas fell on deaf ears as Obanai hauled off for a third time.

“I’m going to enjoy this.” He mimicked you from earlier, the bed dipping as he put his mouth right against your ear. “You did this to yourself.” The next hit wasn’t to your ass, but your pussy. You cried out this time, muscles contracting uncontrollably until the stinging stopped. “Look at you, how fucking pathetic. You’re dripping onto my sheets…filthy. At least you are a little more fucking obedient now.” His hand cupped your sex, rubbing slowly.

Two fingers parted your lips, sliding down your slit until he reached your clit. You groaned softly as he pinched it, eyes squeezing shut as he changed the pressure every few seconds. “You don’t even deserve this.” You gasped as his fingers left you, turning your head to try and look back at him. Your mouth parted as he forced both fingers inside, pressing down on your tongue so you had to taste your own arousal.

He pulled his fingers away a moment later, letting his hand fall to your waist. Your whole body stiffened, the bulbous head of his cock sliding along your slit. “You’re being cruel, Obanai.” Your eyes traveled upwards, looking at Mitsuri who seemed rather surprised by his actions. “She likes it, don’t you y/n?” His nails dug into you, forcing a choked “yes” from you. “Oh?” Mitsuri still seemed uncertain.

You watched Obanai lean towards her, coaxing her up to kiss him. “She’ll tell me to stop if it becomes too much, alright?” The nails biting into your skin told a different story. “Just sit back and enjoy the show.” Mitsuri seemed a little more trusting at that, moving to settle herself amongst the pillows by the head of the bed. You were beginning to regret this.

Obanai’s cold demeanor returned nearly instant, forcing his head through your entrance. You buried your face into the mattress, knuckles turning white as he began to spear you on his cock. It wasn’t exactly painful, just uncomfortable. Especially with the way you were second guessing the whole thing. When Mitsuri suggested a threesome, you didn’t think it would turn into Obanai forcefully entering you.

Your walls molded to every inch he pushed in, suctioning around him with a vice like grip. So much so that he was beginning to struggle. “Relax.” His nails ran down your hips to your thighs, goosebumps followed in their wake. Your walls spasmed wildly around him, easing just enough for him to bottom out. “Not as good as her, but you’ll do.” You could only whimper in response.

He pulled back slowly, only half way before slamming his hips forward again. You were silently thanking anyone who would listen for the fact that he was starting a bit slow. Anything else and you may have had to tap out…if he’d even allow it that is. Obanai’s thrusts built in tempo, from slow and steady thrusts to practically pulling all the way out of you before slamming back in.

It was as if every ounce of his frustration was being pounded out and into you. Every time he had ever held back when fucking Mitsuri was being relieved in you. You pulled your face from the mattress just a bit, pressing your cheek into the drool mark you had already made.

You were positive there would be fingerprint shaped bruises left on your skin, his grip refused to ease up. You knew part of the reason was so you couldn’t run away from him, his vice-like grip was keeping you in place. You hadn’t even realized the moans that were spilling out of you, partially dazed as you tried to figure out if this was worth it.

“C’mon you can be louder…or is this not enough for you?”

A particularly harsh thrust had his balls slapping your cunt with a wet smack. You gurgled out some sort of response, too dazed to really figure it out. You couldn’t even muster a proper yell as your hair was yanked backwards yet again, Obanai pulled you towards him as he pushed his hips forward. Pleasure and pain blossomed through your body as he hit your cervix.

“W-wait wait…fuck…” he repeated the motion regardless of your pleas, tears leaking down your cheeks as he let your hair go. You began panting, looking over at Mitsuri with blurry eyes as her boyfriend continued to abuse your cunt. You felt like you had been lit on fire, each thrust that separated your slick walls brought you closer to your release. You had to wonder if he’d even let you come.

“You know…heh…you really got some fucking nerve.” He pulled out completely, watching your arousal ooze from your abused entrance. He plunged into you again, pulling your hips towards him as he did. There was something so satisfying to Obanai each time he hit your cervix. He never did this to Mitsuri, too afraid to hurt her. You on the other hand were allowing him to release all the pent up frustration he had held in.

“H-how…how…” you tried to wipe the drool from your mouth. You finally used your elbows to give you some leverage instead of smushing your face into the mattress below. He didn’t respond to you, instead hauling back and landing another harsh blow to your ass cheek. He showed you a little bit of mercy this time, choosing the other cheek instead of the one that had a red hand shaped welt forming on it.

“You acted so shocked…so—ha—innocent at lunch. Just to come into my home and put me to shame.” Is that what it is? Had he never made her squirt before—

Another slap echoed the room, followed by your pained cry. Embarrassment flooding your cheeks for the second time as you felt yourself get wetter. “You fucking like it.” Obanai had bent over you, his chest pressing into your upper back. “How fucking sick. You actually enjoy me abusing you like this…it’s too bad we can’t do this more often. You’re a great stress reliever.” You buried your face into the mattress, he truly saw you as nothing but a fuck toy.

What was even worse was the build up you felt. You couldn’t believe you were about to come just from this man’s dick. Each thrust had you seeing stars “I can feel you. Come on, come for me. Give me the fucking satisfaction.” One hand let go of your hips, snaking around your body to pinch your clit. Your entire body jerked backwards to try and get away from his hand, but that only helped him go deeper behind you.

You moved forward to try and lessen the blow of his thrusts. Each push inside of you was becoming too much. Your hips jerked again when he pinched your clit, you had no way of escaping what Obanai wanted to do to you. Mitsuri watched a cruel smirk creep up his face as you gave up on trying to get away. “Do…do you want me to help?” Her voice snapped Obanai out of his daze, cheeks turning pink.

“No.” His voice was gruff, hand burying in your hair again to pull you up. You yelped when your back met his chest, scalp sore from his previous stunts. His mouth pressed directly into your ear now. “Nowhere to run.” His arm hooked around your abdomen, holding you in place as he continued his assault. “You act like you don’t want this yet you are prolonging your release… I can feel it.”

You wanted to hide your face, you were trying your damn hardest not to come, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You were stuck honestly, did you want to swallow your pride or prolong the “torture”? You felt it building up, it would happen whether you wanted it to or not. “There we go.” He cooed in your ear, walls spasming around him as you came.

“See that wasn’t so bad?” He let go of you completely, laughing as you fell to the mattress in a heap. You couldn’t catch your breath, not with the way he continued to slam his hips into you. “M-Mitsuri!” You wailed finally, hand reaching out for the pink haired girl’s hand. She crawled across the bed, laying on her stomach as she began to kiss your fingertips. “You’re doing so well y/n!”

“She is. I’m rather surprised.” You wailed as he buried himself deeply inside of you, head putting so much pressure on your cervix that you wanted to crawl away from him. “Are you gonna come in her, Obanai?” You didn’t expect the two to begin conversing, you glanced between them in shock. “Hell no.” He noticed you looking at him, the scars on his lips only extended his smirk. “She knows she isn’t worthy enough for that.”

He leaned down now, blocking Mitsuri from view as his eyes locked with yours. He blinked, moving closer to you while still buried inside your cunt. “You don’t get the privilege of my cum.” He growled those words right into your ear as he pulled himself out of you. You could finally breathe again, it was as if your body sighed in relief from not being stuffed so full anymore.

Obanai dragged you to the edge of the mattress. “On your knees.” His voice was gruff, irritated despite the sickly sweet voice he was using only a moment prior.. When you didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and practically ripping it out of your head as he pulled you down himself. You landed on the wood floor with a thump, lips parting to cry out in pain. He used that to his advantage, shoving his entire length down your throat in the same cruel way he had stuffed your cunt.

“Mmhmmphm!” You gagged loudly as he hit the back of your throat, clawing at his thighs for merch. “I bet you wish I was back in that tight cunt Huh? Now you gotta deal with me another way.” tears began leaking down your face, dripping to your chest and thighs. Drool coated your chin as he held you there, unmoving. You squealed as he pinched your nose shit, effectively shutting out any air. You tried to pull your head back, only to be met by a softer, delicate hand.

“Stay still and he’ll stop.” You shifted your eyes to see Mitsuri, having changed her position so she could watch you. You stilled as she said, forcing your body to relax regardless of the lack of oxygen. He finally let go, allowing his cock to slip past your lips and allow you to breathe. You gasped for breath, coughing a few times as your whole body shook. Mitsuri’s hand was still on the back of your head, not allowing you to go anywhere.

“Better?” She was reaching with her other hand to wipe your tear streaked face. “We can’t stop now. I’ve come. You’ve come. Obanai still needs to.” Her eyes were wide and innocent as if she didn’t see anything wrong with the scene before her. Obanai had even said he doesn’t go this rough with her…how was she not confused? Scared even?

“Are you okay for him to keep going?” Did you really have a choice? You nodded regardless, mouth parting as he pressed his head to your lips. He pushed in slower than he had the first time, still pushing until he hit the back of your throat. You were shocked he was actually giving you a second to adjust. “Can I move now, Mitsuri?” Oh. He didn’t move because of Mitsuri.

“Go ahead.”

Your heart picked up in pace as both hands came up to hold your head. You choked around him again, his hips beginning to move at a forceful pace. Your eyes squeezed shut as tears started falling again, embarrassment flooding your whole body as he began to moan. “So good, still not as good as Mitsuri…but damn…” the backhanded comments had you scrapping your nails down his pale thighs.

“You want my cum, don’t you? How sad that you didn’t get it where you wanted it.” His drool was covering your chin, neck and chest as he continued. “How stupid do you have to be to think I’d ever spill even a drop of my cum in you? You seriously don’t deserve that.” You cried around him when a slap hit your cheek. Not nearly as hard as the ones he dealt to your ass, but it stung nonetheless.

His release sprayed the back of your throat, the sudden intrusion making you jump. “Sh-ha-shit.” You stared up at him, struggling to swallow whatever he gave you. He looked oddly beautiful as he came. “There we go!” Mitsuri cheered beside you, using her hand again to wipe your stray tears. “You made such a mess.” She disappeared from your vision, rustling could be heard around the room. You looked back at Obanai, is it done? Is it over?”

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed with a deep sigh. You began rubbing your sore jaw, jumping a little as Mitsuri appeared in front of you with a wet cloth. “Let’s clean up a bit and take a nap.” You tried to say okay but all that came out was a hoarse jumble of noises. “Sorry.” Your eyes shot up to Obanai, for the first time he actually looked apologetic.

He seemed a little surprised when you looked at him, his face shifting into one of disinterest. “Let’s get into bed, ‘m sleepy.” She looked adorable as she yawned, helping you off the floor and onto the bed. “I-Is it okay? For me to s-stay?” You were crawling under the covers as you spoke, your entire body aching. “It’s fine, shut up and sleep.” Obanai got in bed with you, perfectly sandwiching you between the two of them.

A mix of emotions flooded you along with an endless stream of questions. Why did I enjoy that? Was the one that rang through your head the most as you slowly drifted to sleep. Obanai waited until both your breathing and Mitsuri’s had evened out, signifying you were asleep. He laid on his side for a moment, taking in your sleeping face. He held his breath, not exactly sure what compelled him to do what he did next.

With a gentle hand against your cheek he leaned forward, placing a soft, barely there kiss above your brow.

TR MEN WHO HOLD YOU UP WHEN YOUR LEGS GROW WEAK

CHARACTERS: MIKEY, DRAKEN, IZANA, RAN, SANZU

PAIRINGS: ALL X FEM!READER (FEM TERMS)

WARNINGS: UNPROTECTED VAGINAL SEX, COWGIRL, REVERSE COWGIRL, STANDING SEX, SEX OVER A SINK, CREAMPIES, SIMULATENOUS ORGASMS

𓇬 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎

You're unable to even breathe properly. The wrecking force of Mikey's hips plow into your sorry cunt with each inkling of lust that coarses throughout his body. Slamming his cockhead into the fleshy bulb of your cervix, you start to feel your knees buckle. Mikey's got you spread out for him in a variation of reverse cowgirl. Your feet planted to the cushions of the sofa and your legs parted to the ends of the earth. Mikey nestles his head in the crook of your sweaty neck, complimentary moans slipping from his soft lips and going in one ear and out the other. You can't help but crash forwards, nearly flailing on the floor before Mikey wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you back into his embrace. "I got you, sweet girl." Resuming your position, you continue to bounce up and down on Mikey's cock. Your ass slams against his base and you douse his balls in your slick. Mikey's nearly about to burst, thrusting his hips with one final push and emptying his load deep into your cunt as you milk him to completion.

𓇬 𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐉𝐈

Draken fucks you in a similar manner, though he ensures that you're facing him. Riding Draken on your knees, you're spread out for him in all of your glory. Watching you eagerly, Draken maneuvers his cock in and out of you excitedly. "This is fun, baby. Havin' ya cum on my cock over and over again." You've just about obtained your third orgasm of the night, and the shock of such a wicked climax causes you to crash forward onto Draken. Your boyfriend's quick to catch you as you fall, biceps flexing as his forearms come up. "Pretty little thing, riding me so good she almost lost her composure." Draken laughs, urging you to continue riding him. You plant your feet to the mattress, palms flush against Draken's chest as your ass claps against his heavy balls. A moaning, blissed out Draken thrusts his hips upward to meet your deranged ones. His urge to cum inside of you is strong, and before he knows it, he's milking his own cock with the friction of your tight, wet walls. Followed by a generous load of seed that coats your slit as he pulls out.

𓇬 𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀

Izana has your leg hoisted over the counter of the kitchen sink, rutting his strong hips into your ass. "Take it, baby. Take it." Mutters Izana, both of his hands grabbing at your sides as your head lightly nudges against the mirror, causing it to shake. Your legs begin to tremble, your vision failing you as Izana pushes his hips forward, his chest flush against your exhausted back and his entire weight positioned against you. "So, so deep. Izana!" You cry, feeling the head of his cock slam into your needy cervix and plow into the globe of flesh easily and relentlessly. Izana's a man of power. He's quite frankly the dominant one in your relationship, and will at any cost do what it takes to break you. "Izana... I can't." You feel your legs turn to mere mush, your jelly-like limbs supported by Izana's embrace alone. "You can, and you fuckin will," he delivers a smack to your asscheeks. "I've got you, princess. My babygirl." Izana repositions your ankle that was previously dangling from the edge of the sink. "Want me to cum?" It's almost as if there's a hint of demand in his voice. You nod excitedly, and Izana spurts a tremendous load inside of your weeping cunt. So deep that when he withdraws, you have to stall a couple moments before the creampie takes it course dribbling out of you.

𓇬 𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

Ran's a force of nature. Plowing into your tight cunt from behind in your standing position, hands placed around your hips. "Got me a nice, obedient little whore." Ran bites his lip between his teeth, licking his lips at the sight of your gorgeous body being wracked back and forth against his own. Ran stills momentarily, catching a glimpse of your hand trailing down to your clit. "It's my turn." Ran snatches your wrist away, and instead places his nimble fingers over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Ah! Ah... Ran, baby." You whine as you endure the assault of your boyfriend's fingers. "Yeah, yeah. Like that, babygirl? Like having your little clit played with, angel?" You're completely enamored with bliss. Eventually, your legs give out, and Ran's cock slips out much to his demise as your body writhes upon the floor. "Baby, what'd I do? Fuck ya too hard?" Ran aids you in standing up, repositioning you as quickly as possible. His desperation to cum was in the forefront of his brain, and as soon as he felt the noticeable twinge in his balls, he released his seed, painting your walls with the milky fluid. "I know how much you needed that, princess." He places a darling kiss on your neck.

𓇬 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔

Sanzu's not one to play games. When he's in the mood to fuck, you'd better prepare you cunt for a harsh pounding. Sanzu's strong arms lift you up, legs on either side of him as his cock recklessly slips inside of you, bottoming out immediately. "Fuck!" Sanzu gasps, the feeling of your wet walls no longer a distant memory in his mind. You're right there, he's here. There's nothing more the man could ask for. His body does not tire quickly. Each thrust is another impetus for his impending orgasm. Sanzu can feel the way your legs tremble and shake within his grasp. Embracing you, his hips pound forward into your awaiting hole as slick drips down both your thighs and his. "Such a darling cunt, and it's all mine. Mine!" He angles his hips in order to pound straight into that fleshy cervix of yours. Stationing his hands tightly around your hips and digging crescents into the soft skin. "Sanzu! Cumming..." You cry. "Cummin' too, princess. Fuck..." Sanzu elicits, body writhing as he feels your legs wrap around his waist in desperation. "Your cunt feels too fuckin' good for me not to spill my fuckin' load." His raunchy choice of words spur you on, and you're clenching hard around Sanzu's cock as he slams his hips in tangent. With a disdained wail, he unloads ribbons of seed into your soft walls, filling up your cunt with hot and sticky ropes that are sure to stain the heated flesh once he's withdrawn.

YAKU MORISUKE THIRST

a/n → inspo x y @4unnyr0se. ik his bday isn't until august but really everyday is his bday!!

tws/tags → age gap (yaku is 30, reader is ~20), vaginal, breeding, foodplay (kinda not really) & impactplay

hearing his footsteps hobble down the stairs, in a typical lazy morning fashion, you hide behind the table, peering over the top of it so that when he turns the corner to enter the kitchen, you can jump out and yell,

"surprise!" while blowing into your party horn.

yaku appears to be mid stretch, but falters when he hears your cheer, a small smile creeping onto his tired features. "what's this?" he rasps.

you motion proudly to the cake you had made that sat in the centre of the kitchen table, adorned with a single flickering candle. "birthday stuff! come, make a wish."

he sheepishly hides behind his palms as he makes his way over to the cake, "honestly, i forgot about my birthday."

"that's alright. memory loss is normal part of aging." you blow into the horn again as encouragement for yaku to proceed, but the sudden loud noise only causes him to wince, along with your cheeky comment.

"i'm not that old!" he argues, and you simply nod.

"you're right. you don't look a day over forty." you pinch his cheek and he rolls his eyes, glancing between you and the cake, subcontiously trying to decide which looks more delicious.

you hadn't changed out of your pyjamas because you wanted to be quick in preparing his surprise, and of course he wasn't expecting this at all which is why he was also still wearing his night shirt and shorts.

your hair was a mess too, you hardly had time to do it so it was currently thrown into a loose updo, with strands hanging down in front of your face. it was so sweet, and you were so cute even when dimly illuminated by the weak light of the candle; it was like you were glowing.

yaku was lost in his thoughts, staring at you, until you pulled him back to reality by asking, "make your wish. you're not getting any younger." you giggle, and he exhales sharply in huff.

"you're not getting any younger either, y'know."

"but i'm already young so that doesn't really matter."

"are you saying i'm old?" yaku tried his best to seem offended, but he struggled to suppress the wide grin that gave him away.

you shrug, averting your gaze, also doing your best not to burst out into laughter. "if the shoe fits."

"well let's see if the shoe fits up your ass!" he roars, stepping around the table to swing his leg up in your direction, to which you promptly jump away from, defensively swatting your arms at him.

"yaku!" you yelp, stumbling back against the kitchen counter.

he chuckles and you wear an expression that is a mix of irritated and amused. "make your damn wish!"

in between wheezy cackles, yaku hunches over a chair and blows out his candle, an steamy darkness engulfing the room as he does so. it's 5AM, so it's not especially bright outside, but the moon shines just enough that you can make out his toned silhouette in it's light.

he saunters towards you and captures your lips in his for a kiss charged with passion and love, he pulls you in close by your waist, and lets his hands wander downwards to grip your thighs. his soft lips work against yours in a rhythmic yet desirious manner, only parting for a gasp of air.

you meet each other's heavy gaze for a moment, until you lean forward and rest your head against his strong chest. he whispers into your hair, "thank you, baby."

you smile, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his hands trail over your supple skin, "don't thank me yet. i haven't even gave you your present."

"oh, sweet girl." he momentarily tightens his holds on you and presses an open-mouthed kiss against your neck, "i don't need a present. you're all i want and more."

you can't help but blush a little at his kind words. your hand finds his and you interlock fingers, as you slowly guide him under and up your shirt, so he gets a feel for your lacey undergarments. "i think you need this present."

he perks up at the realisation, a sly smirk tugging at lips as he feels you up, "you're right."

upon hearing his agreement, you keep a hold of his hand but pull away from the embrace, in order to guide him to the bedroom. however, he jerks you back towards him, his firm hold your lower back keeping you in place.

"no, baby. here." he commands, lifting your top up, and you instinctually raise your arms. once it's off, he tosses it onto the floor and bites his lips at the sight of your new lingerie. how it holds your tits so nicely, and covers just enough to make him want to rip it off.

naturally, he squeezes your waist as he pounces at your tits, indulging in the soft sensation against his cheeks and getting high off your intoxicating scent. he kisses up from your tits to your neck, occassionally stopping to leave love bites. one his hands eagerly slides down your shorts, and you kick it away, leaving you in the skimpy lingerie panties.

he takes a greedy handful of your ass, kneeding the flesh while his mouth keenly works at leaving a deep hickey on your neck. you moan, arching your back against the table and pressing your tits against his chest. "yaku.."

once he's satisfied with the mark he's left, he stops, only to grip your chin and force you to meet his gaze. "(y/n)?"

you're barely able to stay off of each other for a second, as you insantly slam your lips against one anothers again. he leans into your with such vigour and utilises his grip on your thighs to spin your around and push you down against the kitchen table, right beside the cake.

you into the heated kiss as your back makes contact with its cool wooden surface. he pries away, so he can stand at the edge, with your legs situated on his shoulders. two of his fingers delve between your folds, rubbing widely through your labia to soak up your juices and hooking around the fabric of your panties to move it aside.

"s' wet.." he muses, admiring your exposed figure beneath him, "such a good girl. dressed up all sexy for me." he prods at your enterance, pressing down to tease you without slipping in yet.

"got me so hard." he says while pulling down his shorts to free his length, aligning it with your pussy. "you gonna help me, (y/n)?"

you nod silently in response, but then shut your eyes tight and whine as yaku squeezes his tip inside your aching hole. a low grunt is brought out of him in response to your tight walls enveloping him, so snugly. it's like he couldn't breathe, you've truly knocked the wind out of him. he's inclined to force himself all the way in, he wants every inch of you, but he likes seeing you squirm when your desperate for more.

"since it's my birthday," he pants, watching heave of your chest and twitch of your neck. "can i cum inside?"

you nod again, and this time a shriek is prised from your throat as he pushes himself in all the way, his thick cock piercing into you. "perfect." he groans, establishing a steady yet zealous pace, "so good t' me."

even with each forceful buck of his hips, his weary smile doesn't waver, as he's entirely enamoured by the way your tits bounce with each thrust, how your nipples threaten to escape the confines of your black lace bra.

that's the least of your concerns though, as your focussed on coping with the sheer amount of pleasure yaku sends surging through you. his cock drills relentlessly into your pussy and you find yourself out of breathe at how your walls have to contort to fit him all inside you. you can feel every movement; each drag of his dick and jab of his tip.

it's so addicting, your each flutter shut and you throw your head back, starting to lose yourself in the fog of lust and bliss. though you're hastily snapped back by a harsh sting of pain against your thigh, brought on by the swift slap of yaku's palm.

"fuck." he groans, biting his lip to prevent the further stream of profanities and mindless comments about your gorgeous body or the obscene things he wants to do to you.

he continues to pound into you, observing your lewd facial expressions with a smile, "feels good, baby?"

the only intelligble reason you're able to give is a brief nod of your head, and a meek, "yes.." which is likely drowned out by your moans. yaku gets the message, though, there's not a sign on you that he'll ever miss.

something heavy grows in the pit of your stomach, until you felt like you were on the verge of exploding. "yaku, 'm close." you mewl, to which he rapidly nods in agreement. "me too."

his pace becomes wild and feverish as he nears an orgasm, the way his dick hungrily slams into you draws you closer to your own climax. his thick tip, leaking with precum, scratches an itch inside your tender walls that you didn't know you had.

soon enough, the heavy pool inside you begins to overflow; it's euphoric, your eyes roll back into your head and your entire body tenses to cope with your sweet release, accompanied by an elongated moan.

and of course, watching you come undone around his firm cock resulted in yaku spilling his seed into you shortly after, grinding his teeth togther as it happens. the sensation of your homey walls encasing him and his own fluids was like nothing he's ever experienced before, and his breath hitched as he was forced out.

being the first time he's ever left his load in your pussy, he wants to make sure he does it right. thus, he reaches down between your legs and pushes his cum deep into you, not risking any of it leaking out. once he's done, and notices his fingers are coated, he hovers them in front of your lips and watches as you lick them clean. observant as ever, he notes the slightly grimace that crosses your features at the taste.

he chuckles and digs his finger into the cake that's right beside your head so it is covered with frosting, which he then shoves into your mouth. he slowly drags it back out, amused by how thorough you are. "that taste better?" he inquires.

"mm." you furrow your brows in thought, "no. too much sugar."

Who is that? A ghost.

JUJUTSU KAISEN / 呪術廻戦 Fluctuations, Part 2, "揺蕩-弐-"

BSD men: who fell first and who harder

~~just a friendly reminder that this is my own interpretation, feel free to share your thoughts~~

Dazai: he fell first but you fell harder

Ranpo: you fell first and harder

Atsushi: he fell first and harder

Kunikida: you fell first but he fell harder

Fukuzawa: you fell first but he fell harder

Tanizaki: he fell first and harder

Katai: he fell first and harder

Chuuya: he fell first and harder

Akutagawa: you fell first and harder

Tachihara: he fell first and harder

Ango: you fell first but he fell harder

Oda: you fell first but he fell harder

Poe: he fell first and harder

Mushitarou: you fell first but he fell harder

Junō: you fell first and harder

Tecchou: you fell first but he fell harder

Sigma: you fell first but he fell harder

Nikolai: he fell first and harder

Fyodor: you fell first and harder