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calummss · 6 months

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Sweet Ultraviolence | Klaus Mikaelson

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summary: it was no secret that klaus mikaelson felt for you, but you didn’t, maybe deep down but not enough. so how do you react when the nortorious serial killer gives you the most fucked up surprise?

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 4k

a/n: scene taken from the sexiest ahs scene ever. here’s a link !! probably my favourite klaus fic i have written. also smut!! i’ve written smut?? i’m not a smut writer so if it’s bad pretend it never happened….

‘Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean it means anything.’

‘This date?’

‘Don’t call this a date.’

‘Why?’ Klaus asked,grabbing his wine glass, his gaze sitting on your frame as he sipped the red liquor. ‘We’re at my house, eating a lovely dinner with a beautiful girl. By my definition it is a date.’

‘Please,’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you felt the warmth of the fireplace hit your bare skin, engulfing you in a hug. ‘You are fully aware of why I am here so let’s not read something into this.’

Sitting at a table with Klaus Mikaelson was not as romantic as it sounded. The dark walls pushing in on you, a dark gaze staring at you, darkness that made up the house. Even the plate of meat, potatoes and vegetables seemed less appetising as they normally would. Maybe it was the blood seeping out of the flesh that made you feel agitated, maybe it was the notorious vampire serial killer that so desperately wanted you to be his.

‘Still,’ he paused for a second, ‘you came.’

You yourself took a sip of the white wine you had mixed with sparkling water, the subtle bitterness biting your tongue, the warm fuzzy feeling of the alcohol leaving a familiar taste of comfort.

‘Klaus, sometimes I think you are so delusional, like how are you functioning?’

‘I function just fine, love.’

‘Get me another one of these,’ you held up your glass, lifting it to your red painted lips to drown the last drop of its contents. ‘And maybe I’ll continue to act like I am loving this dinner date from hell.’ You gave him a wide grin displaying your obvious sarcasm.

Klaus smirked, his twisted smile making your stomach churn. This would be a lot easier if he weren’t attractive but of course the maniac looks like he was carved by Lucifer himself.

‘That’s a tempting offer.’

He barely lifted his hand signalling the compelled boy that he wanted something. ‘Another white wine with sparkling water for my ravishing date, Taylor.’

‘Wow,’ you jested in fake astonishment, ‘so intimidating. Raising your hand, getting whatever you want…do you enjoy it? Getting everything with the snap of your fingers.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘You compel people to do stuff for you. Don’t you want people to do things because they want to? Care for you?’

‘No one cares about me, love.’ He chuckles, ‘I’m the monster, remember?’

You didn’t reply. You stayed silent, staring at him being the only communication amongst the quiet room, only the cracking of burning wood to be heard. ‘Why do you like me?’ You shoved the potato around your plate, using it to smear the watered down blood across the porcelain.

‘What’s not to like?’ Klaus shrugged his shoulders, leaning back into the chair, the definition of his abs to see seen through the thin material of his shirt.

You looked up from your plate. ‘Just answer the question, please.’

‘You’re like a ray of sunshine on a bad day. When I’m near you I feel you good nature rub off on me—makes me want to stay close. You’re kind even if not to me, you treat everyone the same and give chances to people that probably don’t deserve them. You help when help is needed and disregard yourself for others. You’re beautiful. You smell good, and the fact that I cannot have you makes me want you even more.’

‘I’m not something you can own, Klaus,’

‘I can’t own you love, but I can own your heart if you let me.’

Again you stayed quiet, scared that if you speak he could hear the smitteness in your tone, knowing that for a second he had gotten under your skin.

‘Admit that you are drawn to darkness, Y/n,’ his eyes stared into the most inner part of your soul, ‘even the purest of heart are drawn to it.’

‘I never said I’m not, Klaus,’ you took a sip of wine. ‘I like darkness. The unknown, the excitement…Just because I don’t like your darkness Klaus doesn’t mean I’m denying my thoughts or feelings.’

‘Keep telling yourself that.’

‘You aggravate me.’ You downed the rest of your drink again, setting it down with a loud thud.

‘Makes you more attractive.’

‘Taylor?’ You smiled over at the boy Klaus had compelled for tonight’s dinner, that what you had hoped anyway, ‘Do you by chance have any earplugs, sweetheart?’

Taylor’s eyes grew wide, pressing his lips together as he turned his head towards Klaus for further instructions. Klaus felt his stare but continued to stare at you with a grin.

‘What are you staring at, Taylor? Get the lady some earplugs.’

Taylor left soon after, leaving the two of you alone which made you chuckle at Klaus who didn’t deny your request.

‘What?’ He asked plainly.

‘Nothing.’ You cut a piece of the steak and let the blood coat your tongue, continuing to feel his eyes linger on your for the rest of the night.

A week later and you were back at school. Vacation was over and reality hit. Thankfully you were seeing Mr. Saltzman today. A class you could pay a little less attention to since you sat in the back of the room, daydreaming away. You were too busy talking to friends that you didn’t realise a pair of eyes that stalked you from afar. Eyes watching your every move.

Finishing up the conversation you said your goodbyes to Dana and Heather and turned around to head towards the gym but when you took a step back you collided with a body making them stumble and spill their drink on the floor.

‘Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you okay?’ You reach out to help Connor find his balance but he slapped away your arms, letting out a deep growl.

‘What is your fucking problem, bitch?!’

‘Excuse me?’ You drew your eyebrows together. It was clearly an accident. Why was he getting so worked up?

‘I said what is your problem?’ He came dangerously close.

‘Hey,’ his friend pulled him back, trying to reassure him that it was an honest accident.

‘You better apologise.’

‘I literally apologised, asshole. How about you pipe down on your ego and take a long second to reevaluate your life? Pathetic.’

Connor’s face turned red, his strength releasing him from his friends grip, his face too close to yours for your liking. ‘I’ve disliked you since I’ve known you, Y/n. Don’t give me more reasons to hate you.’

‘Get a life.’ You laughed out loud.

‘You better watch your back!’

‘Okay, Connor. Will do.’ You called after him as he left the scene,his head turning your way as you cleaned off the few drops of water that caught themselves on your fabric. Chuckling to yourself, you headed the way you were supposed to go and headed towards cheerleading practice, the anger giving you a surge of adrenaline that reassured you that you were going to nail the landing you had failed to complete for weeks.

Klaus had watched the scene from afar, his eyes trailing Connor as he walked past Klaus whose forehead creased, his eyes turning lifeless as he turned around and followed Connor to wherever it was he was heading to.

Practice was good and you were right; you managed to pull off the stunt earning you praise from the coach, letting you know that if you keep up the good work you will be the best cheerleader Mystic Falls ever had. You hated saying it but you lived off of praise. Was there a better feeling than being seen for your hard work and determination? Not really, but that was your opinion. You headed towards the locker room, your red cheer uniform starting to slowly take up some of the sweat from practice. It was late. Everyone went home instead of you. You wanted to perfect the new choreography and stayed long after practice ended. So when you entered the locker room it was dead silent. The squeaking of the locker made you flinch as you placed your water bottle into the side pocket of your bag. You were about to take out your bag to change when you heard the sound of droplets hitting the floor. Wet drops. Only then had you noticed that your feet were also wet. And it wasn’t sweat…it was too much for it to be just that… When you looked up to where the sound was coming from you froze. Staring up at the ceiling just above the lockers, the body of Connor hung from the wall. Broken arms and legs that were twisted inhumane. His intestines spilling from his torso, head hanging from his neck like it was about to fall off. His blood was dripping onto your locker, the smell of blood prominent and not something that could be ignored. As you stared up at him, taking in his lifeless body, a faint smile spread across your lips as you thought back on the scene earlier in the hallway.

‘You like my surprise?’ A voice sounded from behind you and you knew exactly who it was so you didn’t bother to turn around, too fascinated by the body hanging like a spider.

‘You did this?’

You heard his footsteps come closer, his heavy footsteps giving away his exact location whenever he moved, so much that after a few seconds you knew that he was standing right behind you, him too staring at the body.

‘I didn’t like how he talked to you or his lack of respect, his entitlement.’

You rubbed your lips against each other, turning around to slap Klaus across the face, feeling a painful sting across the palm of your hand, grabbing a handful of his shirt and getting up on the bench looking down at him. Vertical wrinkles appeared between his eyebrows, his eyes bigger than before. Fear. Fear that he had fucked up the last chance he had of being with you. Scared that you would never ever look at him again. Fear that he had lost you before he even had you.

You took your finger and slowly dragged it across his face, pulling down his bottom lips as you stared at him. ‘That is the most fucked up thing anyone has ever done for me,’ you stared into his eyes that were still wide, your lack of transparency making him feel sick. ‘That’s so hot.’ You dragged out, taking that fistful of his shirt and crashing your lips onto him, your hands roaming his hair, tugging as you felt him against you. His tongue running across your bottom lip, tasting what he had craved for so long. He continued to place wet kisses down your cleavage, continuing to kiss your legs, holding onto your ankle as he came face-to-face with the blood on your foot. Looking up through his lashes he saw you wipe away a single tear, inhaling the scent of blood before dragging his tongue across the top of your foot, licking the sweet taste of blood. Coming back up to kiss you again, you could feel his hot breath ricochet off your cheeks, his growling making your cunt ache from between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

‘I thought you hated violence.’ He breathed, allowing you to catch your breath.

‘I was wrong.’

‘Does that mean—‘

‘Shut up and kiss me.’

Klaus had never shut up so quickly, pressing his body against yours wanting to be one with you. Ripping off his shirt you felt him against your skin. His fingers curled around the hem of your panties, dragging them down your legs. You curled the finger around your top, ready to take it off but Klaus’ hands shot up to hold them still. ‘Don’t take it off. I want to fuck you in it.’

You suppress a moan as he lowered his head underneath your skirt, feeling his breath on the inside of your thighs, already making your legs tremble. You let out a quiet yelp as you felt his tongue licked your slit, closing his lips around your clit as he started to swirl his tongue around your cunt, sending vibrations through your stomach as you moaned. ‘Fuck,’ your hands grabbed his hair, trying to give yourself some stability. Klaus noticed your legs growing weaker. He picked you up with your legs over his shoulders and laid you down on the blood covered floor, feeling the blood go up your ass. Klaus continued to suck on your clit, concealed groans vibrating against your cunt, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as his tongue focused on your most sensitive spot. You could feel your thighs go numb from holding them up. Your breath becoming shorter the more Klaus dragged his tongue across your cunt, collecting your juices, making you realise you were about to come. You felt your muscles contract, your legs starting to shake as the knot tightened faster than it had ever before.

‘Fuck,’ you pressed air past your lips, ‘please don’t stop.’

Close to coming, Klaus gave one last suck before you felt your stomach explode, squirming underneath him as he continued to flick his tongue over your sensitive clit, making your body shudder with aftershocks.

‘Fuck Klaus, fuck fuck fuck.’

You felt Klaus press a kiss on your cunt before coming out from underneath your skirt, catching your lips so you could taste yoursef.

‘You like this don’t you?’

You nodded.

‘You like the way I touch you?’

You nodded again, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt again.

‘Stop,’ you breathed, stopping his hand trailing down to your cunt that had craved his touch the moment he stared into your eyes. ‘Let me,’ You slowly dropped to your knees, blood staining them s you reached for his trousers, starting to unbuckle his belt, your fingers slipping off the buckle.

‘What are you doing?’ Klaus let out a suppressed smile, his head hanging low to see your hands undoing his belt, your lips caught between your teeth.

‘I want this.’

‘My cock?’

‘Yes.’ Another deep breath.

‘I thought you hadn't done this before?’

‘I haven’t.’ Having undone his buckle and strap, you grabbed his front pockets and pulled down the rough fabric, the bulge beneath his boxer meeting your eyes, a warm heat spreading through your legs. ‘But how do you know that?’

‘Watching you is my favourite pastime.’

‘You’re fucked up…’

‘So are you, love.’

Taking a gulp, you pulled down his boxers to release his cock that sprang against his stomach. Your breath caught your throat. It’s big. Klaus could feel his pre-cum pumping through him just thinking of your innocent lips tucked around the head of his tip. His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs, as you watched him come towards you, knowing that his size would make it hard to breathe. His hand stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre-cum. You grabbed his thick pulsing length, a groan leaving his throat as your fingers wrapped around him. You leaned over, carefully licking his tip, slowly building your way to sucking on his head, spitting on it as you wet his pink cock.

‘Fuck,’ Klaus hissed, his dirty blond curls falling back as his hand tangled itself in your hair.

You gagged on his size, but you refused to let go of him, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. Saliva filled your mouth as you focused, moaning against him as he gently started thrust in and out, not wanting to hurt you.

‘So, so eager for me, aren’t you?’ He groaned.

His hands found their way to your hair, pulling your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum dribbled from between your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his pink lips. The slight sound of you gagging letting his moans increase in sound.

‘Such a pretty face. Look at you.’ He glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking my cock. Your first time having a cock down your throat and you’re doing so well.’

A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn’t help it, you were so turned on. You needed him. You need him inside of you soon. Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Klaus tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing length, earning a huffed moan. You continue stroking him, your hand gliding along his shaft, your own arousal starring to grow

‘You’re so fucking good at taking my cock,’ he thrusted in and out of my aching mouth. ‘Your first time and you already know how to send me over the edge.’

He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe. You gasped out for air, before he slid back inside of you. Pre-cum was leaking from his tip, the salty taste mixing in with your own spit. You pulled in your lips around his cock, sucking harder, your tongue pressing up against the head and circling around it. Your lips and throat we’re starting to turn numb, every thrust releasing a tear, every salty tear mixing with the shaft.

‘Look at me,’

Your eyes shot up and stared into his.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ He moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth; hot jets hitting the back of your throat. ‘Be a doll and swallow.’ He worked hard to suppress a moan, jerking himself through his orgasm. Both of your chests were heavy—you had almost forgotten what breathing felt like. He huffed and dragged his fingers across your face, stroking your cheeks as he stared at you with sparks in his eyes. ‘You did so well, my love.’

Carefully grabbing you by your throat, Klaus pulled you up and swiftly turned you around, his hard cock pressing up against your firm ass as his hands glided over your tits, smearing the blood across your uniform and cleavage; drops of blood running down your chest as you placed your arms behind your head as Klaus started to place kisses again the thin skin on your neck, gently sucking on it, making the hairs on your body stand up.

‘God, you’re so fucking hot.’

You hummed in response, his mouth on your neck making it hard to concentrate.

Klaus brushed the tip of his cock against your slit, teasing you as his moved it along your cunt, adoring the way you whimpered at his slightest touch.

‘I thought you were a gentleman and wouldn’t fuck a girl so shortly after the first dinner.’

‘I’m not a gentleman tonight, my love. You make it hard to control myself,’ Klaus whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your spine that stopped before it reached your toes as he thrusted into your core making you shout out.

‘Oh my god, Klaus. Fuck you feel so fucking good.’

His cock stretched out the walls of your cunt that welcomed him, each thrust slowly adjusting to his size. His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving trails of dark marks. Hickeys or blood, it was hard to tell. You could feel the blood slowly dry out on your skin, but new blood spread across your body as Connor’s blood continued to seep out of him, letting you and Klaus be covered in his surprise. He began to pump his cock out of you with pace. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more. Throwing your head back onto his chest as one hand wrapped around your throat, the other holding your waist.

‘Not satisfied darling?' He smirked against your skin, picking up pace as he pounded into you. Your tits moving with every thrust, the sound of skin filling the locker room.

‘You're so fucking tight.’ He grunted into your neck. 'It's like you were made to take my cock. Look at you, taking my cock like the good girl you are. Who would’ve thought you were so sick and twisted?’ You felt a new bundle tighten in your stomach. ‘Fucking in a school locker room covered in blood. God made me immortal because you are my match. Fuck, you feel so good.’

Those words felt like fireworks exploding inside of your gut.

‘Shit!’ You cried out in ecstasy, as he pulled you into a climax, sending your body over the edge. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, and filled you up with his cum. Klaus stayed inside of you for a few seconds, breathing heavily as a sweat pearl rolled down his forehead, holding you tight in case your legs were to give in.

‘Your body was made for me.’ He huffed. Klaus slid his cock out of you, staring at you, slowly lowering you to the red messy floor, setting you down before laying down next to you, holding his head up with the palm of his hand.

You took a few seconds to breathe, catching your breath as your high started to fade, catching a glimpse of the body up high. ‘You can’t leave that there. I’ve got class at seven in the morning.’ You mused, gazing at Klaus who had blood spread across his chest. He looked so hot you could fuck him again.

‘Don’t worry, love,’ he reached for the bag behind him. ‘I know how to clean up messes. I’ve done this for over a thousand years.’ He placed a cigarette between lips, pulling out a lighter and taking a drag of the hot smoke. He truly was irresistible.

‘Have you killed a lot of people?’

‘Yes.’

You grabbed a knife that laid behind your back, the knife Klaus probably used to cut certain parts of Connor. ‘Would you kill me?’

Klaus took another drag over the cigarette, the smoke making his voice sound deeper than it was. ‘No.’ He shook his head.

‘Would you kill for me?’

Klaus stared up at Connor pointing at him, ‘You have to ask?’

‘There’s this guy, Dean Gabriel. He took away the only person I ever loved.’ You said, staring at the knife, feeling Klaus prop himself up. ‘He violated my sister. Made her feel disgusted, defiled her without her consent. She took her own life because that man ruined her life in twenty minutes. And whilst she is no longer here, he gets to roam around like nothing happened…’

Klaus leaned forward, his voice sounding huskier, ‘Just tell me where he is and he won’t see any more sunrises after I find him.’

Gazing at the knife, you swung your leg over Klaus to straddle him.

‘Promise me he’ll suffer.’ A tear fell down the apple of your cheeks, ‘I want it to be painful.’

‘I promise.’

You lowered yourself to kiss him, your tears mixing with the blood on your face as your heart was finally lighter than it had been for a while. All because of a surprise you enjoyed more than he had anticipated.

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invisiblerhythmcat · 2 years

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oh, they finally changed the work from home policy at work so that everyone can have one work from home day

which is great

but are we ripping up the piece of paper where I basically had to say I could come in at a moment's notice no matter what? Nope. That's still signed and official

like, everyone else just gets a wfh day, but I'm still on accommodation first and yes, I need this accommodation. I wouldn't be able to work at all if I didn't work from home one day a week.

But like? Maybe now we've dealt with the policy, we should talk about how fucking humiliating and dehumanizing it was that I had to go through that?

and not make it an issue of "ohmygod, now the most underpaid people in the office won't always be there to open the door for me when I forget my keycard"

#i am really really happy about the changed policy #it was disgusting #it's still disgusting but at least it's better #i just #like I literally signed away my commute times on the days I work from home #on the off chance that they NEED me to come into the office #and in reality I know they'll never call me in with less than a day's notice #and if they do I have enough sick to days to just not #but the fact that they are claiming MY COMMUTE HOURS and not even acknowledging this is a problem #well they should be paying for those honestly if I'm holding those for them #and also I still stand by the fact that I should not have had to EXPLAIN my anxiety in disgusting amounts of detail #to the point of being nearly in tears and not able to talk #for the bare minimum of what I need to function #and then get lectured for having resentment because it's bad for relationships #basically the way organizations do accommodations for disabled people #even organization that are well meaning and truly think they are doing the Right THing #is bullshit

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kiyoomi-levin · 4 months

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Morning Routine [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads.

He doesn’t even need an alarm now.

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper.

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still.

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them.

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient.

I should stop.

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you.

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him.

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief.

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly.

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all.

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you.

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate.

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning.

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today.

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin.

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body.

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago.

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down.

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always.

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good.

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off.

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer.

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results.

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off.

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?”

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately.

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning.

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms...

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you!

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy.

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway.

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared.

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university.

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right.

But he only wanted you.

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish.

Fine then.

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month.

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause.

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you.

Obviously none were taken by him!

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries.

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum.

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities.

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done.

He wants to finish with you so bad.

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters.

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price.

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough.

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!”

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs.

“Fuck!”

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop.

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going.

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you.

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours.

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know.

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him.

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent.

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you.

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon.

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a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu wakatoshi #hq wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader

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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months

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...

#hmm its been an interesting week i suppose #very busy in a good way. but that is always how it starts. i make myself so busy and it feels good and then i wobble and fall out of my body #so im feeling wary. also bc ive been under sleeping more than ususal but im not really tired but im also not boiling out of my skin with #energy. i just feel ok. so thats good. but also a demon in the back of my head is always like: then stay up all night. lets see how far we #can push this. which is not good. and in fact ive been proscribed like basically emergency mood stablizers to knock me out if i start like #losing my mind and not sleeping lol. bc i dont wanna b getting ready for something big and like completely unavailable to control my #ability to think. and ive also been proscribed birth control to get a handke on my fucked up hormones. so we'll see if that makes things #less all over the place. hopefully it works bc im so busy i kinda dont have time to like freak thr fuck out #but i am a lil apprehensive bc like i can count on my hormones to make me feel things when a lot of the time i dont have much emotional #range. so its like fuck finally i can cry abt this. or like fuck this is so beautiful. but then i also cant function sometimes #so i guess i just gotta see what happens. sigh. also the typical frustrating in having to read so much. like ppl hear im dyslexic and r like #oh do u want accommodation? like literally wtf r u gonna do to help me as a grad student? it just takes an agonizing amount of time to #understand thing. i have my computer read to me and i suffer. theres literally nothing else to b done abt it. and fucking next week i have #to teach a fucking lab abt reading scientific papers. they have to read a paper in class. fuck off. those r the types of exercises that make #me feel so fucking stupid. like do this thing right now. read it right here and answer questions abt it. and i fucking read it and retain #fucking nothing. im fucking 26 and literally in my grant writing class i have to apologize to every person before i give them feedback like #lol sorry i can barely fucking read. i fucking cant understand language. its fine but it sucks. theres nothing to do abt it. it just makes #me mad i have to teach a class that would have made me cry as an undergrad. so ill prob hold their hands thru it more than the other TAs #will. bc fuck u im not making them read a whole fucking paper in class. fuck u #plus the frustration of not being able to express myself well in thr moments. like theres a delay in my brain so i feel so dumb when im #trying to convey myself off the top of my head. like give me time and ill write it all out for u i just cant actually process wtf ur saying #to me. also i probably spaced out for a sec so i missed part of the convo lol. frustrating but at this point its just how it is. it makes me #more empathetic when i have to teach i guess. like listen ive got all kinds of fucking learning probs i just wanna help u learn something #how can i help? fucking dyslexia. god. i dont wanna prep for class this weekend. ive gotta show up like yea i kno reading papers is hard at #first but it gets easier! fuck u. its worth the suffering if i enjoy to topic but its always suffering. but thats what i get for going into #academia. thr dr who proscribed me stuff was like well sounds like u have a stress trigger and ur a phd student where life is stress... u #gotta figure out whats gonna work for u. sometimes thats a career change. not in like a pushy way just like: if what u do makes u suffer #then wtf r u doing? and hes got a point. but in contrast to what i was doing this is a massive improvement #well see if its manageable. ugh. i just wanna draw #unrelated

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luveline · 5 months

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hiii, can you do something for aaron comforting pregnant!reader? just lots of comfort and softness (ily<3)

You thought you liked being pregnant. Aaron says you're as beautiful as you've ever been, and there's something comforting about the bump forming. The knowledge that you have a new love so close, maybe.

But there's something off about it too. Your body isn't solely yours, or that's the way it feels, and though you'd never wish for the baby to be away from you before it's time, you'd like a break. He's a heavy weight to carry, your little Hotchner. He makes your back hurt, your legs ache. Your hands shake before breakfast every day and the morning sickness gets old.

The hormones are intense, too. All in all, you're overwhelmed. It affects everything you do.

A dropped cup becomes something else.

“You okay?” Aaron asks.

You've broken a glass before, you've done it twice in his kitchen alone, but this time it's the last straw. You bend down to clean it up, realise you can't really bend, and then that you can't do it without gloves anyhow. “What am I doing?” you say, your voice dripping with disdain.

“What are you doing?” Aaron asks, quieter now. “I'll do it. Sit down.”

He doesn't speak without love. In fact, you'd say that the very infrastructure of his voice is imbued with affection, like every sentence could end in a pet name.

“I can do it.” You shake your head. “I can't do anything. I'm useless, I'm–” worthless, you want to say. Completely worthless, nothing to give, hardly functioning, and now you can barely clean up after yourself.

You squeeze your hands together and take a few steps back. Aaron meets your eyes unflinching, impossible to look away from as he follows you, closing the gap.

“You're not useless. You're less agile than usual for good reason.”

“I'm useless,” you repeat, self-hatred (not hatred, something different, more pitying, more shameful) thick on the tongue.

“Honey. You're not useless.”

“I am.” The first tear wells and races down your cheek within the same second. Your lip begins trembling. “I can't do anything anymore.”

“You think so?” he asks gently.

“I can't do it,” you say.

Your voice breaks. Aaron doesn't need much more instruction, gathering you into his arms for a hug, the bump of your stomach no match for his height. “It's okay,” he says, again so gently, “it's okay.”

“It's not.” You cry and it aches. You cry like a little kid, wildly out of control of your life.

“It is, honey, it is. I know… it's not only a glass. You've been rearing up to this for a while.”

You cry harder, wrists crossed around his back and your face rammed hard into his neck. It must hurt. You're trying to hide from the ache of your panic but there isn't anywhere to go —you're pregnant and you want to be, but you're trapped, too.

“Aw, I don't know what's wrong with me,” you choke out, spluttering into his collar.

He doesn't complain. “Nothing–”

“I know it's not easy–”

“–is wrong with you. Exactly. It's not easy.” He's calm in the face of your bleeding heart. “Honey, this is one of the hardest things a person can do, and that alone means you're the opposite of useless right now. You're making a big change, a sacrifice, to bring someone new into the world.”

He pulls your face back from his neck with a kind hand. “Your baby doesn't think you're useless. I can tell you that for sure.”

“I wish I could take a break,” you admit, shamefaced.”I'm such a bad mom already.”

He doesn't agree. It's in the line of his mouth, the stillness of his gaze. Aaron takes your hand from his back and pulls it slowly to your stomach, flattening your fingers over the very apex of its hill, his own warm and large covering it surely. “You're not a bad mom, not even close. I don't think so, the baby doesn't think so.” He smiles. “Jack certainly doesn't think so.”

You take a deep breath. “Really?”

“Jack couldn't have asked for a better step mom, honey. Wanting a break from the side effects doesn't mean you don't love him, does it?”

Him as in the baby, the heartbeat, the little head and arms and legs, the tiny brain. Wanting a break from your pregnancy and its constant barrage of symptoms doesn't make you a bad mom.

“You aren't useless,” Aaron says, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “You're my partner, and you're his mother, and if you can't do some of the things you'd usually do right now, that's okay, because I'm here to do them for you.”

That makes you cry more. Aaron drops his face to yours and presses your noses together, shushing your sobs. You, much less composed, grasp at the swell of your stomach. “Sorry,” you say in a weak whisper, hot all over and not sure how to cope. “I'm sorry, baby.”

“You don't need to say sorry to him. He's the one at fault, anyway.”

A laugh slips past your lips before you can think about it. “Don't say that.”

“No?” Aaron pulls away, taking the fat of your arm into his hand. “I suppose it could be my fault. But it was your idea.”

“No it wasn't.”

“No, it wasn't,” he says, his fingers sliding a slow path down to your elbow, “but you do want this, don't you?”

“Of course I do.”

Your quick answer makes him smile. He wipes your wet cheeks dry with an infinite carefulness, thumb trailing down the apple of your cheek to catch a last little tear. “Let me sit you down, sweetheart. I bet you feel even more tired than you did to begin with.”

Pregnancy isn't always (or really often) fun, nor is crying your eyes out into the unfailing arms of your husband (though that had it's redeeming factors, mainly the smell of him, and the way he held you like he knew exactly how to make it all better), but you feel better for it, rather than worse as he's suggesting. Still, you soak up Aaron's quiet doting, a hand pressed to your baby bump as he kisses the side of your head.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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