Touya Todoroki Completes Community Service Hours At An Aquarium.
touya todoroki completes community service hours at an aquarium.
your supervisors, understandably, were adamantly against having the convicted criminal anywhere near the facility, its staff, and its animals. however, after being reassured time and time again that he wouldn't be working in public areas, you were assigned to be his unofficial parole officer (or off-fish-er you called it) because of your hydrokinetic quirk. not only were you responsible for watching a criminal, you were also the first line of defense in case he decided to make the facility into a seafood boil.
you'd better be getting a stellar letter of recommendation after all this.
as luck would have it, word spread quickly among aquarium staff about the new volunteer and his...messy...history. you received many texts wishing you good luck and stating that you're in many people's prayers as if working with him would be a death sentence. but, to your surprise, your first day with touya is actually...not terrible.
"you're doing a nice job. you can cut them into larger chunks if you want," you recommend kindly as he slices pieces of shrimp and fish for the penguins and drops them into the gray bucket.
"don't want them to choke," he mumbles almost imperceptibly. from what you've heard about him, touya was physically incapable of shutting up and always had some snarky insult to mutter under his breath. the man you were working with, however, kept his thoughts to himself and only engaged you with curt acknowledgments of tasks. "these got bones in 'em still?"
"digestible ones, yeah," you confirm, a little confused about why he's so curious. he struck you as the type of guy to just work and finish his assignments with as little energy exertion as possible. but here he was, concerned for the animals' safety even when he hadn't even seen them yet. "we just need to cut them up because some of them try to swallow the big ones whole, and we don't need them blocking their throats."
"how many are there?"
"the penguins?" he hums in assent, never taking his eyes off the precise cuts on the food. "i think our colony is a few dozen, maybe twenty-two?"
"do they get along well?"
"some of them are a little feistier than others," you admit with a fond smile. "but the majority of them are really sweet. you'll see when you meet them."
"meet them?"
"you're not walking out with me, of course," you quickly correct. "my shift lead's gonna have my head on a stake if you so much as show a finger to the public." he nods, an odd sort of quiet falling between you two that was more awkward than the previous silence. if you knew any better, you would interpret his expression for disappointment. "there's one recovering from an illness backstage named peach. she gets fed on her own, but if there's some left over i can take you over there to feed her."
"it's fine. don't wanna bother your routine," he mutters with a shrug, but you catch the renewed glint in his eyes at the prospect of meeting one of the animals personally. after feeding the main colony and not-so-accidentally leaving a few treats at the bottom of the bucket, touya follows you through the back halls of the vet center to peach's holding area.
"be warned, she's one of the feisty ones," you caution him, carefully stepping into the plexiglass-enclosed space. he copies your motions exactly and you're surprised, again, from the great care he seems to take when interacting with the small penguin. "so, all you need to do is hand out the fish to her and let her take it in her beak."
"does she dislike new people?" he asks as peach aggressively inspects his shins, prodding them with her beak when touya tries to step away. "i don't think she likes me."
"it's the opposite, believe it or not; you're making her angry when you try to give her space like that," you reply with a stifled laugh.
"oh. i see." peach continues to slap touya with her fins and poke him until he gives her what she wants, a large chunk of fish straight from his hand. you kneel down next to him when he has a seat on the floor, his eyes curiously observing the spunky bird. "she always this sassy with you?"
"only when she gets jealous," you smile, running your hand over the top of her head. her eyes close in contentment before returning to touya's outstretched food offering. "what do you think?"
"about what?"
"do you think this arrangement is gonna be a nightmare for you?" he pauses and, for the millionth time that day, surprises you with how much thought he put into his actions.
"if everyone i meet is as easy as you and her," he says, gesturing to peach but speaking soft enough to make your cheeks heat, "i think i'll get by."
---
"peach duty today?"
"schedule got mixed around, so we'll be giving her dinner instead of lunch today," you reply and touya hums at your side, an answer that could be considered rude if you didn't already know he was a man of few words.
few words, that is, if he was speaking to anyone other than the animals. after a month of touya shadowing you, you could pick up on the little conversations he had with the different animals he took care of: asking the cownose rays to calm down during feeding time, warning the reef sharks that they might need braces if they keep losing so many teeth (he kept forgetting it was normal for them to lose that many teeth), quietly cheering on the day octopus as he breaks into a jar full of crabs.
"who've we got today?"
"took a hell of a lotta convincing, but my boss is letting you meet my best friend today," you inform him. touya walks in step beside you like he'd memorized the fishy-smelling back halls of the aquarium, barely sparing passing wary staff so much as a glance. you'd be intimidated, too, if he wasn't your partner; he was formidable in his favorite blue windbreaker with his hands stuffed casually in its pockets that subtly accented the lean muscle in his arms. not that you were paying much attention to his body, anyway.
"and who would that be?"
"her name is donna, but i call her mama donna." he follows you down a corridor he'd never taken before, toward the very back of the medical wing. "take that hall on the right and change into a wetsuit; i'll meet you back over here, okay?"
"why do i need to change?"
"well, because you're getting in the water with me."
shit.
it's the first time touya hesitates in a long time when you beckon him to join you in the shallow pool. you'd already summoned donna, who was much larger of an animal than he expected. you said she was an adult zebra shark, but all he could register is the tiny tank of brown sacks the size of his hand just outside the walls of the pool.
"i don't think it's the best--"
"get in the water, touya, or i'm gonna report you for insubordination," you interrupt, waist-deep in the water. you don't mean it, of course, but you did need a hand with donna if you were going to check on the status of her eggs.
"i shouldn't be in the water with her, 'specially if she's a mother."
"what, you got something against moms?" he flinches and you suddenly regret speaking so brashly, something about his reaction indicating that you'd hit a nerve. "sorry, that was insensitive--"
"i don't wanna hurt her if i..." his voice trails off and he looks down at his scarred hands, the tissue dark enough to almost match the color of his wetsuit. "it's better for everyone if i don't get close to her if she's vulnerable." you wait for him to look you dead in the eyes before answering.
"i wouldn't bring you to meet her if i didn't think you were ready, touya," you begin gently. "i don't think of you the same way as the rest of the staff because you've proven that you're different from the gossip."
"but what if i--"
"did you forget why i'm paired with you in the first place?" donna swims around you impatiently, nudging you with her nose while you continue to convince touya to get in the water. "i'm the only one on staff that can neutralize you, but i know i won't need to."
"how are you so sure?"
"because i hear you talk to them," you state simply, rubbing your hand on donna's nose as her tail splashes your upper body. "your little conversations tell me you care, even if i'm not allowed to be a part of them." you shoot him a wry smile and he finally scoffs, partly a chuckle and partly an exhale; he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. "i'll drown you if you heat this water by even half a degree, so help me with donna and then we can go visit peach, yeah?"
---
you'd fallen into an unexpectedly fond partnership over the course of your six months of touya-duty. he was a pretty damn good listener, letting you boss him this way and that and only retaliating with a lighthearted eyeroll. on certain occasions, he would open up about his history, and you followed along intently. he insisted on doing the heavy lifting and opening every door for you, even if you weren't carrying anything. he remembered every animal by name and could tell apart the most similar looking creatures, pointing out their differences with an expression that screamed 'is it not obvious?' towards the end of his assignment, you both faced an unexpected surprise.
his family came to visit.
well, not all of his family, only the ones touya maintained somewhat of a relationship with. in the times he'd opened up, he briefly mentioned his now-graduated little brother, shoto, and the work he'd done to mend the tears between him, his mother, and his other siblings. you consider it a blessing that only his mother and siblings appear when you round the corner to the 'vip only' waiting area (from your talks, you'd also learned it'd be on sight if touya's retired father stepped on the property). he freezes when he sees his family as the guests who would be shadowing him, becoming uncharacteristically stiff as petrified wood.
"welcome, todoroki family. i'm so glad you could join us today," you greet with a polite smile. only when your hand gently settles on touya's shoulder, the reminder of your presence melting the chill in his veins, does the tension in his body dissipate. "touya? d'you wanna introduce me to your family?" he glances at you, your unwavering trust in him, and his eyes soften as he nods.
"yeah," he affirms quietly. "yeah, i can do that."
"doing great, partner," you whisper once you're acquainted with the family and on the move, heading toward the back halls of the tropical gallery. "i'll only talk if you need me to, today, because i want this to be about you and them."
"but you're not gonna leave me, right?"
"wouldn't dream of it," you reassure him, something in your heart stumbling when he gives you an easy smile. as the day goes on and touya guides his family through the back corridors of the facility, he's able to ramble about all the knowledge he'd acquired while working with you. at each exhibit, he points out every species with total accuracy and shares his favorite quirks about certain animals. you have a front-row seat for the way his eyes, usually so molten and intense, have a star-like quality to them when he talks about his new friends, the abalone and the otters and the sea bass. his family observes him in awe, and you catch his mother watching you watch him several times. touya ends the day by introducing peach, his self-proclaimed 'number one girl,' and helping his family with her nightly feeding. though all the todoroki siblings struck you as reserved when you first met them, their conversations were full of life as they walked ahead and you trailed behind with his mother.
"this suits him," rei states with a thoughtful smile.
"i'm biased, but i agree," you reply. she fixes you again with that curious stare, analyzing you. "do i have fish scales on my face?" she laughs and shakes her head.
"no, i'm just indebted to you for getting through to him." you blink, taken aback by her genuine response. "being with you makes him happy. i haven't seen him like this in a long while." she turns back to her children, walking in one raucous group and making plans to get dinner after his shift. "he doesn't talk with them like this often."
"i imagine it's all a mother would want after everything they've been through, if i may," you add and she hums in agreement.
"it is. it's also why, i hope you wouldn't mind," she trails off and her eyebrows pinch slightly, like she's thinking of something worrisome. "if he could stay here."
"of course. i've noticed that he has a knack for husbandry, so--"
"he wants to stay with you," she cuts in, her voice soft as powdered snow. "and i'd like him to stay with you, if it means we can see him more like--"
"this," you finish for her, gesturing to the pile of adult men wrestling each other just ahead, their sister shaking her head from afar. rei sighs, her smile turning sad.
"exactly." before you can give her your reply, touya has escaped his brothers and approached to steal you from his mother.
"if you take those double doors and turn left, you'll end up in the gift shop. wait there and we can get dinner once i'm off," he tells rei, taking her hand and squeezing it once. "i won't be long." she nods and joins her other children, leaving you alone with touya in front of the staff-only window of the sea lion pool. the fading afternoon light catches in the water's rippling and sends a soft beam of light across the cavern. the largest of the lions, boris, floats from below to observe you and touya standing in front of his tank.
"he moves like a slinky," touya states and you can't help but laugh.
"he does move like a slinky, you're right." you turn to him and find he's already looking back at you, not boris. "i loved meeting your family today," you offer in the silence that makes the heartbeat in your ears sound so much louder. "they're very sweet, especially your mother."
"what were you two talking about while we were away?"
"she wanted to show me baby photos," you tease and he gives his signature eyeroll. "but really," you inhale and steady yourself, "she was saying how much this suits you."
"i'd have to agree," he murmurs, his eyes glowing like dying embers. you're close enough to smell him, smoky and rich and only the slightest bit like fish. the proximity feels comforting, like home. "if...if you'd let me--"
"stay with me," you blurt. he blinks at you, the rosy color on the tips of his ears standing out against the bright white. "i-i want you to stay with me." you wait and the quiet stews, nothing moving except slinky-like boris in the water beside you. touya's reply is barely above a whisper.
"i want to stay with you." you release a shaky exhale and let your head fall forward against his chest, steadied by his arms securing themselves around your waist. your hands slide over his shoulders and rest at the nape of his neck, fiddling with the tuft of hair at its base. "please let me stay with you," he breathes in your ear. his arms flex as his grip tightens, like you'd turn to water if he held you too loosely. touya feels like his heart is rattling in his ribcage, bouncing around uncontrollably the longer he has you in his arms. he hasn't felt his chest ache like this before.
"yes, i want you to stay with me," you confirm and he melts into you, breathing you in like fresh oxygen.
"for how long?"
"as long as you'd let me," you answer honestly. the corner of his mouth turns upward in a teasing smirk.
"and if i said forever?"
"then i guess i'd have to oblige," you beam. your hands cup his face, tracing the seam of his scars, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours. it's careful, the first time he kisses you, and he's terrified you'd slip from his fingers. but you don't disappear, so he lets himself lace your fingers with his and drag you out to the rest of his loved ones, hand-in-hand and finally feeling like he can do something good.
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toji x crybaby reader <3
content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !
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toji is a flawed man.
short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.
he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear.
you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.
his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.
he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.
you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him.
he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.
it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.
it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?
he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge.
instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.
you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands.
physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.
his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.
toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.
you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul.
he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words.
“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours.
“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”
and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.
he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over.
the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.
you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.
toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start.
🏐 wttcsms written works, haikyuu ;
last updated feb 23, 2024
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles and i can't make you stay (in this broken place) — ( nsfw ) i sin too much to pray for you — no one can believe that one of the most powerful crime lords in the underground world of japan, atsumu miya, is wrapped around the finger of a naive girl like you, but love doesn’t really care about boundaries anyway. take care of you — ( nsfw ) atsumu just wants to give you everything he can offer: an easy job, a brand new car, a baby… wanting was enough (for me, it was enough) — ( sfw ) "He carries your confession home in the to-go box from the diner. It’s heavy, matching the American theme of burgers containing his weight in meat and fries slick with oil and grease. The two of you are walking together, and he wants to ask you, specifically, what did you mean when you told the team you liked me?" paper rings — ( sfw ) the tiffany blue ring box currently resides in the second drawer of his night stand, unceremoniously buried underneath several pairs of calvin klein briefs. when you know, you know — ( sfw ) atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn’t long enough
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : domesticity with atsumu — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : ex!atsumu seeing you're engaged to oikawa — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : how atsumu says i love you — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : atsumu and you having "non-dates" — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : atsumu's green flags — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : dating atsumu — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : dad!atsumu — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : mastermind inspired — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : atsumu randomly showing you his camera roll — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : in a world of boys, he's a gentleman — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : atsumu as a college interviewer tiktoker — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : husband atsumu using ur purse — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : you're the first person atsumu wants to tell anything to — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : the miya divide — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : girl dad atsumu — ( sfw )
multipart afterglow — ( nsfw ) finding out that his hot supermodel girlfriend is dumping him for some baseball player? that sucks. finding out via her red carpet debut with her new man as her plus one? sucks a bit more. having this happen to him the same day he just lost the last game of the season? yeah, it’s starting to feel like the universe has it out for him at this point, right? but atsumu miya is nothing if not petty, childish, and immature. he’ll get back at her. after all, there’s a secret dating app created by publicists and agents that pair up perfect matches for brightening up any celebrity’s public image. all atsumu has to do is pay a pretty sum of money to convince the media (and mainly his ex) that atsumu miya is still on top of the world and living his best life with the best (albeit, fake) girlfriend ever. unfortunately for him, his perfect match just so happens to be you — his first girlfriend, his highschool sweetheart turned sour, and the first girl who ever broke his heart. you know what they say: when it rains, it pours.
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles customer satisfaction — ( nsfw ) you go above and beyond for your customers...
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : engaged to oikawa when atsumu's your ex (yikes) — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : ex husband!oikawa still in love with you — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : ice skating au — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : royal au — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : learning about the tradition of giving the first slice of cake to who you love the most — ( sfw )
multipart forever golden — ( nsfw ) everything is going fine: you just graduated with your first degree, you get to work alongside your older brother for the 2021 olympics, and you think now might be the perfect time to finally jumpstart your dating life (atsumu miya certainly seems cute...). there's no time for you to think about torn acls, shattered dreams, and the fact that this was never your original goal in life. and there's certainly no time for you to worry about tooru oikawa, the boy who practically grew up in your house now turned into the man who poses as your team's fiercest competitor. you definitely don't have the free time to remember how he's the first boy who ever had (and subsequently broke) your heart. or that the two of you went from practically joined at the hip to total strangers for the past four years. you don't even bother wondering why he suddenly wants to repair the broken bond between you two, and you totally don't give in to him (except for the times that you do... which is almost all the time). yeah. everything is going fine.
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles rapture — ( nsfw ) his tenacity and stamina prove to be a deadly combination indeed. you know you make my cold heart warm with a touch — ( nsfw ) how else can kiyoomi show you how close to his heart he keeps you than by fucking into you so deep, you’re pretty sure you can feel him reaching for yours?
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : how kiyoomi says i love you — ( sfw )
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles as the world caves in — ( sfw ) they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. if that’s the case, then that explains why kageyama only sees you.
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : kags' act of service — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : tobio craves your attention — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : vampire hunter!reader x vampire!kags — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : he responds to all your texts individually — ( sfw )
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 ✩ ✭
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : domesticity with iwaizumi — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : shoujo concept with iwaizumi — ( sfw )
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender — ( sfw ) you never do get over your first love. / you fell first, he fell harder.
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : domesticity with suna — ( sfw )
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀 ✩ ✭
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : marriage of convenience with ushi — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : underground fighter ushi — ( sfw )
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles in every universe, it's still you — ( sfw ) in all the universes, in all the different versions of you and kuroo, you’re certain of two things: that he’s always a good person, and that you love him.
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : fake dating au — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : business school academic rivals to lovers — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : kuroo tweet — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : dad!kuroo is the best — ( sfw ) ✩✮ : single!mom reader x kuroo office romance — ( sfw )
multipart get him back! — ( nsfw ) so, in an attempt to get back at your ex - who posted a sex tape of himself cheating on you with your best friend - you decide that you’re going to upload your own film, and it’s going to be even hotter than theirs. you don’t anticipate your class’s teaching assistant being your co-star, especially considering that he’s the one who took your virginity, and after all was said and done, you ran out on him. but there’s no running from him now, especially whenever your tape does better than expected. now, you’re one of the hottest up and coming content creators on the platform, and the cash is too good to let this opportunity go to waste. what starts as a petty revenge scheme results in a lucrative business partnership with three simple rules: profits are split 50/50, all videos remain faceless, and this newfound partnership means absolutely nothing. just because you two fuck on a daily basis does not mean you’re friends, and you’re certainly not lovers. then again, things hardly ever are that simple.
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles paper rings — ( sfw ) shinsuke kita is a creature of habit.
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : influencer!reader x kita — ( sfw )
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles xoxo — ( nsfw ) just thinking about recreating the infamous maison margiela kiss button-down shirt for your boyfriend osamu
headcanons & concepts ✩✮ : the miya divide — ( sfw )
( 🏐 ) ⸺ 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈 ✩ ✭
one shots & drabbles everything's blurry but you — ( sfw ) barely in your baby twenties, and you think life is so over for you. then, while at rock bottom, you run into futakuchi, and realize that 1) he’s kinda pathetic, and 2) someone else’s pathetic-ness totally distracts you from your own. so, guess you two are in it together.
when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.
being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:
"will you take my virginity?"
maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.
"okay."
and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.
but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.
still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”
“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.
and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.
“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”
his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”
“yes. please, gojo.”
“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”
the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.
you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.
you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”
you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”
satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”
you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”
one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.
he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.
that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”
you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”
his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”
snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.
“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”
“ngh, what do you mean?”
another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”
your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”
“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”
your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.
“satoru i’m gonna—”
he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.
his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.
a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?
he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.
“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.
“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”
“hear what?”
he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”
SWEET
Haitani Rindou/Lana Del Rey - Meet me at the pale moonlight
I found a wheel decider app or whatever and I put a few random songs from my playlists with a few TR characters in another wheel. I decided to write imagines with the songs and characters I’ll get from the wheels.
A masterlist for what’s more to come
Childhood enemies to teenagers in love, a few swear words, Rindou is an asshole and a bully, Y/N is smart, the words “sucking dick” are mentioned once but that’s about all.
Haitani Rindou x gn!reader. 1.9k words
Understand this, I been likin' you since I was small / I'm the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean?
Haitani Rindou was always mean. When he was just a kid he would make fun of other children, push them off of swing sets and slides, he would throw sand at them and push them around. He was a bully and no kids ever tried to stop him. Even if the kid’s on the playground would go and cry to their moms and moms did try and discipline him, he would never listen. And Ran didn’t care enough to try and do anything about it. After all he was only one year older and didn’t know any better. He even found it amusing and entertaining.
Even though Rindou bullied everyone, you were his main target. He hated how pure and innocent you were. He hated how you always smiled at everyone and tried to be friends with every single kid. He hated your voice, your laugh, your stupid face. Just hearing your name made him cringe.
He was the meanest kid in school when he started first grade. The bullying got worse and everyone tried to avoid him. He sat alone in all classes and sometimes even during lunch. His table was empty, besides the days when Ran was with him. You, unfortunately, were classmates. And what was even worse was that you sat in front of him. That was a complete accident. He came in last on the first day of school and the only empty seat was behind you. He poked your back, put trash into your backpack and kick your seat. He made sure to make every single day of yours in that school - hell.
Once middle school started, you moved seats. You sat further away from Rindou and for some reason that annoyed him. He was mad that he didn’t see your face in front of him anymore. Instead he started seeing the ugliest guy in class, in his opinion. On his face there were often boogers, he always had extremely messy hair, his clothes were always dirty, because him and his friends liked to play outside. Rindou thought it was stupid. They weren’t children anymore so what was the point of that? Going back to the topic of you, Rindou was sure that even though you escaped him for now, he’d still manage to ruin your days. He looked for you during breaks. He pushed you into lockers, he made sure that you’d trip in front of everyone and he even stuck his gum on your school uniform. Though at the end of middle school, Rindou disappeared. It left you with both shock and satisfaction. Turns out he was in juvie for killing someone with his brother. After that, you started fearing your all time enemy Haitani Rindou.
When high school started, Rindou wasn’t alone anymore. He was friends with the older and younger guys who were nothing but trouble. He became a well known delinquent and ruled Roppongi with his older brother Ran. Now whenever you’d walk in the halls you’d see the scariest group in school. It consisted of the Haitani brothers, Mochizuki Kanji, Kurokawa Izana, Kakucho, Hanma Shuji, Kisaki Tetta, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Shion Madarame and Muto Yasuhiro. Rindou didn’t bully you as much anymore. Mostly because he wasn’t in school as often. So it was just your luck. Though when he was in school his teasing was worse than before, since his new friends would laugh at you and make snarky comments too. You’d just throw a small smile their way, or grip your bag and walk past them whilst looking at the school’s corridor tiles that would all of a sudden grab your interest. You never knew what caused this hatred for the younger Haitani. Of course he treated everyone with malice. But you were treated even worse. After all when you both were children you liked him a lot and tried to be his friend too. But all he ever did was make fun of you.
Today was different than the other days. Rindou was alone the moment he saw you in the corridor and so were you. And it wasn’t only that, no. There were only the two of you which made you tense up. You were always one of the first students to show up in school since you had to take the first bus there. But what was the Haitani doing here so early too? Once you saw a smirk show up on his face you let out a sigh.
“What a freak. Not only are you a teachers pet, you’re always so early here.” He snorted. “Do you suck the teacher’s dicks or something? That’s probably why your grades are so high, huh.” He started tapping his jaw with his pointer finger, pretending to be deep in thought.
“What did I ever do to you..?” You mumble.
“Huh? Speak up, dumbass.” He gritted his teeth.
“Why are you so mean to me?!” You yell while poking his chest with your finger. “All I’ve ever done is be nice to you and your stupid brother. I’ve never said one bad thing about either of you. So what the hell is your issue?!” Your voice was becoming louder by the second. You were tired. You’ve already gone through enough. “Fuck you, Haitani. You and all of your stupid little friends. You all suck.” You turned around and left him standing alone. After that Rindou and his friends didn’t bother you anymore.
When you turned seventeen, you were one of the prettiest people in school. Boys and girls adored you, your looks and your personality. Everyone wanted to be your friend and your lunch table was never empty. Almost every single day there were different people around you. There was even a fan club made for you in school. People would give you love letters every week and you received many gifts from your admirers. Haitani Rindou though was never at school. As much as you knew - he was roaming around the streets of Japan with his gang known as Tenjiku. Of course it had all of his buddies there and they were getting bigger by the day. Sometimes to pass his grades, he’d randomly pop up in school. You’d walk into maths and he wouldn’t be there, but he’d be in the next period. Sitting alone, looking at his phone. Sometimes a random friend of his would walk into the class during break time and they’d talk about the violent things they did the day before, making sure everyone heard. He never bothered you, but to your surprise he started talking to you. It started with a greeting once he’d see you and then it got to small conversations that he’d try to initiate. This year, you once again had to sit in front of him. But instead of bullying you, he’d give you small notes asking about your day, he’d compliment your perfume or jewellery. And with pure confusion and suspicion you’d talk back to him.
At the age of eighteen you both became kind of friends. He’d walk with you in the school halls and the both of you sometimes even sat together at lunch (though when that did happen, none of your friends dared to sit with you. They were too scared of Haitani Rindou and there would only be the two of you there. Not like you blamed them). It was friday when your classes ended and you walked out of school alone, after waving everyone goodbye and having small talk with the random people that stopped you before you left. You started walking towards your bus stop when something caught your attention. Rindou was yelling your name while sitting on his bike in front of his friends. That made you feel anxious and you stood in one place, frozen. Would your friendship with the Haitani end so soon? You knew it was weird how fast he changed. It was all too good to be true. Your thoughts were disturbed when the sound of a bike sounded way closer than it should.
“C’mon I’ll give you a ride home, (L/N).” Rindou smiled at you.
“Huh?” You turned your head to the side and you could swear you hear a quiet ‘cute’ leave his mouth.
“I’ll drive you home. There’s still an hour left before your bus comes, right?” He looks straight into your eyes. Behind him you could see his brother snd friends smirking and that made you feel even more uncomfortable. Rindou turned around to see what you were looking at and let out a groan. “Don’t worry about them. That’s just the way they are. You can trust me, you know that right? Sit down.” He patted the seat behind him. You let out a shaky breath and nodded.
“Fine. But don’t try anything stupid, Haitani.”
“Would never dream of it.” He grabbed onto your sweater and pulled you closer. After that your vision was dark for a second as he put on a helmet on your head.
That day you realised how fun it was to ride a bike. As you held onto his waist you felt free. Like you were on a magical cloud. The wind was caressing your body and everything felt so great. The adrenaline was running throughout your whole body and it made your senses heightened. You were introduced to a whole new world and Rindou could only smile while looking at you through the small mirror attached to his motorcycle.
At summer Rindou asked you to go the Sumidagawa Fireworks Festival* with him. You asked why he didn’t want to go with his brother and friends, but his answer was short. “I want to spend it with you.” To that you only nodded and agreed to go with him. That day he showed up in front of your house with his bike and took the both of you to the festival. You bought some food and drinks and hung out for a while, before the fireworks began. After some thinking he took you to a more discreet place, but he promised you that you’d still see the fireworks from there. The both of you sat in an abandoned parking lot that was on a hill and you asked him how he’d even find this place. “Me and my brother found it a while ago. We like to come here when we feel like running away from the world.”
And when they did start, you were in awe. Everything looked like it was from a fairy tale. And as the fireworks painted the sky in many different colours, Rindou’s gang jacket was around your shoulders and so was his arm.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” You smiled at him.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered while looking at you. Rindou looked scared and he was. He didn’t want to ruin whatever he had with you. After all he was an asshole to you for so long and he was glad that you’ve managed to forgive him.
“Yeah.” You nodded slowly. “Yeah, you can.”
His hand reached the back of your head and pulled you close. Once your lips touched it felt like the world went quiet. Like you just finished a puzzle by putting the last two pieces together. And as the two of you parted from the kiss, the sky was flashing in many different colours. Rindou could swear that you were still far more beautiful than any view. So he did what he felt was right and leaned in for a second kiss.
———
*It’s one of Tokyo's largest and most urban fireworks displays
gentle man — ushijima wakatoshi drabble (unedited)
ushijima wakatoshi was big. big in more ways than none, and they always say big men are either intimidating and distant or they're down bad needy for their women, ready to worship the ground they walk on.
and ushijima was both, but more so the latter.
without avail, he'd come home from practise every single day and bury his face into your tummy. rubbing his cheek against you and squeezing your plush thighs with his huge hands. he'd trap you against him with his bulky arms wrapped around you. outside your home, he was a big beefy silent guy, but at home in his comfort zone, he was the complete opposite. in your home, he would cling and follow you around like a puppy.
most days after he comes home, you would gently ask him about his day and inquire about how practise went. your fingers would run through his hair, gently soothing him to relax in your arms. you'd only get simple mumbles from him, which often made you giggle at his baby behaviour. he wasn't a man of many words, but mumbling was his way of saying that he's too relaxed to talk about some random stuff that happened in his day. not that he was much a talker to begin with.
and what you loved most was letting him nap on the bed before leaving ushijima to go cook a meal for him, only to find him barely a few minutes later pressed up against your back with his face in your neck, smelling and rubbing your hair and skin like you were gone for weeks.
"weren't you napping ushi?" your cute little nickname you gave him always made him feel relaxed and safe. "hm," he would hum and watch you cook his favourite meal before sitting down to enjoy the food you prepared for his growling stomach. "ushi try this," you would coo a 'say aaaa' and feed him something new from your plate. he'd chew it with a blank expression and nod if he found it to his liking.
ushijima wakatoshi was a man of few words, but at heart, he was your gentle bear who showed his affection with touch rather than words. and with a pat of your head and kiss to your forehead, another day of practise would take place, and you would be there longing his towering gentle presence in your home.
❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | daichi sawamura and toru oikawa
warnings: timeskip! daichi and oikawa, fem! reader, tinder, unprotected sex, protected sex, bondage/handcuffs, multiple orgasms, biting/hickeys, fangirl fucking, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling, missionary and doggy style, fluff at the end, pwp, this made my editor loose their mind (ily opal mwah)
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 1.5k
Daichi Sawamura | Stress relief
Being a cop was a good job. Steady income, health benefits, all that jazz. And there really wasn’t a lot of crime in Miyagi, so there was little to no stress. Perfect for a guy who spent his high school years screaming at underclassmen to behave, right? Wrong. Paperwork was a pain in the ass, and his only relief was going home to an empty apartment, along with the occasional visit from his younger siblings or old teammates. Overall, Daichi was stressed as hell. Did he have an early grey?
Anonymous sex was his only relief. Yeah, it was unlike Daichi to not know the girl before making her see stars repeatedly, but he just didn’t have the time. Balancing being a police officer with his sex life was hard work, and emotions just complicated things. He didn’t see women as objects, absolutely not. Daichi was a gentleman (at least in the streets.) He just sees the sex as a good way to let himself go, to pound his frustration out into a gorgeous angel beneath him, her moans and cries of euphoria filling his apartment.
So when he saw your pretty face appear on his Tinder feed, how could he say no? Swiped right immediately, and the two of you were a match.
“F-fuck, Daichi!” you mewled into his neck, attempting to hide your flushed face in his tan skin. Your hands were cuffed together in front of you, wrapped around his broad and gorgeous shoulders. “M’gonna cum again, shit!” your wanton sobs were like music to his ears, although they were slightly muffled by your hiding.
“Hey, I told you I don’t like it when pretty girls hide from me,” Daichi purred, stopping his thrusts inside your sobbing core to adjust your body. He pulled your face away from hiding by gripping your messy and tangled hair; a dark desire pooled in his chestnut eyes. “I wanna see that face of yours make cute little expressions as I fuck you, baby.” Fuck, his voice was so fucking filthy, and it made your legs quiver beneath him.
You pathetically nodded as Daichi pushed your legs further up into your chest, placing your arms around his neck. The cold metal from the handcuffs tickled the hairs on the back of his neck, the steel sensation only further adding to the pleasure of your warm pussy squeezing onto his pulsating cock. “God, you feel so fucking good.” he punctuated his sentence with a harsh thrust, feeling his orgasm approach. He usually lasted much longer than this, but the sensation of your gummy walls pulling him impossibly deep was driving him insane. Fuck, were you trying to kill him?
“Fuck!” he growled into your ear, biting down on the cartilage of the shell. “You’re gonna cum with me, yeah? I know you’re fucking close, baby girl. I can feel you squeezing around me like a slut. You’re gonna milk me for all I’m worth, huh?”
“Yes, fuck!” his words sent you over the edge, his rough and powerful thrusts only making your release even sweeter. You made a mess all over his cock, sweet moans escaping your puffy and bruised lips. An animalistic, almost feral grunt emerged from Daichi’s throat as he slammed his mouth against yours, drowning out his moans as he came inside, hot ropes of cum filling you up so nicely.
“Good fucking girl,” he pulled himself out of you, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The bed felt lighter as he got up to put on the rest of his casual clothes, his jeans pooling at his ankles. He didn’t say anything, causing you to raise an eyebrow in suspicion.
“What, no aftercare?”
Daichi turned to look at you, equally confused. “I thought girls who wanted to hook up got grossed out if a guy stays too long.”
You shook your head and gestured to the handcuffs on your wrist, a displeased expression on your flushed face. “First of all, you’re sleeping with idiots. Second of all, please uncuff me.”
Daichi let out a nervous chuckle, unlocking the handcuffs. He noticed a faint purple bruising on your wrists, which rubbed him incorrectly. “Do…do you want me to stay a little while?” He just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all. He wasn’t catching feelings for a girl he wanted to hook up with, right?
“You’re more than happy to stay if that’s what you want.” your smile is so sweet and sincere. How could he refuse some after-sex cuddles? Especially with you.
“I’d very much like that.”
Toru Oikawa | Fangirl fucker
It was no secret that Oikawa had plenty of fan girls. No matter which team he played for, there were always several hundred pretty faces in the crowd ready to cheer his name. It fueled his already massive ego, that was for sure.
Being a professional athlete came with rules, of course. Sure, he was allowed to have sex. It was against the law to prevent sex between two consenting adults, no matter what league or team he played for. However, one of the unspoken rules of being a professional athlete was not to sleep with your fans by any means necessary. It would ruin your career and tarnish the reputation of the team. But Oikawa didn’t care. It didn’t stop him from setting up a Tinder profile that very clearly showed off his athletic ability, getting so many matches a day. Fucking fangirl after fangirl was the best, and you weren’t any different. You were still a fan even though you only had an “I <3 Toru Oikawa” button on your lanyard displayed on your profile. His fan.
“Say my name again, princess,” Oikawa huffed from behind, his soft yet calloused hands tightly gripping your hips. His fingers squished the flesh between them, rolling it sensually. You looked so pretty like this; face down, ass up, mascara running down your face, and his handprints beautifully decorating your round ass. Fuck, you looked so perfect for him. “Say my fucking name.”
“Oikawa!” you mewled, your walls fluttering around his pulsating cock. You knew he was strong from the various shirtless photos of himself floating around, but he was showing you no mercy as his member pounded in and out of you, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your sweaty form filling the expensive hotel room.
His hand cracked down onto your ass in disapproval, his bottom lip pouting in mockey. “Nuh-uh, pretty girll. That’s not my name. You wanna try again?” he purred, slapping you ass a second time, not as harsh as the first. “C’mon now, don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid?” Oikawa loved teasing you, your cunt became tigher with each word that fell from his lips.
“T-Toru! Fuck!” you sobbed in both pain and pleasure, your knuckles turning white from gripping onto the silky sheets that were drenched in your sweat. “Harder, fuck me harder! W-Wanna cum all over you!” Your desperate little begs and pleads were music to his ear, filling his head with dark and twisted thoughts. Fucking his fan girls was a high in of itself, but you were a special kind of breed. You made him want more, more than just a random fuck on a Saturday night. No, Oikawa could definitely get used to this.
“Cutie,” he decided to indulge you, grabbing onto your messy ponytail so your back could arch in an even more beautiful way. Oikawa’s other hand left your hip and chose to massage your throbbing clit, rubbing and pinching the sensitive bud. “Cum on my cock be a good fucking girl and cum on my cock for me.”
You let out a wanton shriek as your orgasm hit you like a runaway freight train, making a mess all over Oikawa’s cock and hand. Fuck, no one has ever made you cum that hard before. “T-Toru! Fuck…”
His thrusts were becoming disorganized and sloppy as Oikawa’s orgasm washed over him as well, his cum filling up the condom. “Mm, fuck,” he sighed, pulling himself out of you with a small squelching sound. Oikawa tied the condom off and tossed it into the nearby waste basket, landing it perfectly. He pulled you into his arms, cuddling his face into your bruised neck from an earlier hickey assault. “You feel good, cutie? It’s my job to make sure my pretty fans feel good.”
You slowly nodded, giggling slightly as his taped fingers massaged your pert nipple. “Mhm, I feel fucking amazing. I never thought I would ever live out my fantasy of having sex with you, this feels like a dream.”
“Fantasy, hm?” he playfully purred, licking your collarbone with a glint of mischief in his milky brown eyes. “Do you…have any other fantasies about me? I’d be more than happy to help you make them come to life.”
You blushed and covered your face with your hands, earning a dissapoving look from Oikawa. “Y-yeah, I got a lot of other fantasies about you…but don’t you have other fangirls you need to, uh, attend to?”
Oikawa shrugged and pulled you closer to his chest, your cheek landing on his right pectoral. You could feel his heartbeat, calm and steady. It was relaxing, welcoming, and warm. “Eh, they can wait a little longer. I’d much rather keep cuddling you than drive to another hotel.”
“You’re a sweetheart.” you smiled at him, feeling comfortable enough to give him a peck on the cheek.”
“I know, cutie. I know.”
kuroo, bokuto, and ushijima are next! should i do other guys as well? what positons?
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟcan't stop thinking about yuuta who overhears you confidently telling your little friends, "i don't fuck virgins," at a party. listens intently as you go on and on and on about how you hate how inexperienced they are, how they require so much hand holding and fussing over the whole ordeal. "i wanna fuck someone who can fuck me the way i need it."
you're unimpressed when you first spot him across the party, rolling your eyes in a way that should not send excitement thrumming up and down his skin, sharp eyes twinkling under the harsh neon lights.
knows he's been looking for way too long when you finally make your way over, joining him at his solitary spot on the couch, surrounded by various levels of debauchery. "you going to make a move or just stare at me all day, lover boy?"
"i—no! wait, i mean yes, i want to make a move, but i—you see," he's tumbling over his own words under your scrutinizing gaze, and god, this has to be the world's worst impression ever, he knows there's no way you could possibly want him⸺
your eyes narrow. "spit it out."
"i'm a virgin."
for a moment, you let your eyes drift over his entire figure. you hum, a disappointed, low sound that makes his heart drop to his stomach. "a shame. you're actually real cute up close."
yuuta slumps, as if basking in the fact that he's hopeless, and it's almost funny, but then you remember how intently he looked at you, with so much unfiltered desire and need.
"i don't do charity cases," his ears perk up. you know you've got him, hook, line, and sinker as he nods so eagerly, invested in what you've got to say next, and it's delicious. you grin. you're going to devour him whole. "say, what if we just took a practice run?"
when you give him a sloppy, rough handjob in a tiny little bathroom sequestered off upstairs, he cums, embarrassingly fast and oh-so-loud, forcing you to have to cover his mouth with a spare hand.
"keep it quiet," you hiss as his eyes roll back, rutting uselessly into the palm of your hand, whimpering when you keep milking him for all his worth even as he cums. "but that's it, there you go. so pretty for me, huh, lover boy?"
he nods uselessly, back bowing at all of the unexpected sensations, but keeps his eyes trained to the way you pull your hand back to sneak a taste of him, pink tongue swiping across the glistening pad of your fingertip. eagerly accepts your fingers in turn to taste himself and your saliva. he closes his eyes at the taste, moaning softly.
when he opens his eyes, you're shimmying out of that tiny little skirt he's been eyeing all night, a glimmer of something devilish in your eyes. "you ready to lose your mind, yuuta?"
© ROSESAINTS ᐟ — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. requests are OPEN .ᐟ
Shitty pervy roommate Dazai who's always just a little bit too comfortable with you. He has weird hours so you never really know when he'll show up, draped over your couch or stealing food from your part of the fridge. He never seems to be fully dressed, always has some ratty old sweats hanging low around his hips, always walks barefoot, never wears a shirt. An unzipped hoodie if you're lucky, maybe, but he always insists this is his house too and he'll wear whatever he wants. He encourages you to wear less stuff as well, always with a sly little grin that makes you wonder why exactly he's so invested in what you wear.
The walls are thin, thin enough for you to hear him moaning when he jerks off, but he's always so unashamed when you find him 5 minutes later flicking through TV channels that you never bring it up. His room is dark and always smells of weed and cheap alcohol, and you're sure it would be a mess if he actually bothered to own more than 5 things at any one time. But the rent is always on time, he never makes too much noise when he brings people over for his infrequent one night stands, and it's hard enough to find a decent place to live as is.... you can't exactly justify leaving.
─ 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.”
˗ˏˋ ✞ ˎˊ˗ Dabi Bullying the New Recruit ˗ˏˋ ✞ ˎˊ˗
─━╋ Dabi who likes to take deep whiffs of your neck and hair from behind in order to make you, a new member, uncomfortable and creeped out. It's his form of initiating members, except such a cute one gets his special treatment.
─━╋ You become his new obsession, and any chance he gets to terrify you is a riveting experience. "Thrill seeking," he calls it. “‘M bored, and you’re free entertainment. Gimme a good time, and I’ll keep you in my good graces”
─━╋ Sometimes, he'll flick his long, burning tongue against your earlobe, exposed shoulder, or the nape of your neck when you least expect it, and when you turn around to either reprimand him or squeak in terror, he's grinning and walking away smug as hell.
─━╋ "Fuck, You taste mighty fine... one of these days, I'll have to gnaw that pretty collarbone. Cya around, fresh meat.”
─━╋ You fear the unpredictable, rabid dog in his heart, ready to feast on your insides and worm his way into your paranoid-stricken mind.
Maybe he’s just kidding…
─━╋ On missions, when you have your guard down and he's suddenly out of your line of sight, he's behind and grabbing you until you're both shuffling pinning to the ground. Pinning you down, blue flames burst from his hands, and you start to think he's not kidding anymore.
─━╋ "Is that your fight? All y'got in you? You're lucky it's me and not some damn hero. Come on, Shigaraki didn't just let you waltz into that door because you looked cute, right? Who knows with that fuckin’ weirdo.”
─━╋ He's sure to have left bruises, but you're far too disoriented both by his body heat and strength, as well as the way he's grinding right into you in a way that goes far beyond just rough housing.
And Dabi is a very observant man.
─━╋ "Oh man, don't tell me you enjoy gettin' fucked up by your superior? Geez, what a masochist!" He taunts. “N after all those complaints about me teasing you. Y’should be more honest, rookie.”
─━╋ He feels you coming around to his "affections" though... And one of these days when you least expect it, he'll probably fuck you senseless — as a “joke.”
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