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batterygarden · 12 days

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trapped in a bomb shelter with your big bro naoya

cw: big bro! naoya x fem & afab! reader, dead dove do not eat, misogyny! (and it's my kink so it's not like.. refuted), mild degradation (naoya calls u dumb), but naoya's sweet too, depression and nihilism, masturbation (both of u), sorta dubcon (tagged), fingering, and light mentions of: p in v, somno, cunnilingus, bondage, cowgirl, humiliation kink (on you), naoya being possessive, 1.7 k words

18+, minors don't interact

It’s surprising when the attack is announced how quickly Naoya moves to grab you. The gears in your mind haven’t even processed the news—that doomsday is upon you—by the time your brother has you snatched up in his arms and he’s running.

Most of the clan’s away at a local festival—a whole kilometer’s walk from the great zenin estate and the bomb shelter your esteemed (and wealthy) clan head installed. You and Naoya are the only ones to make it in time.

Naoya has never been the warmest big brother. In fact, there have been plenty of times where you thought you hated him. But at the end of the day you know he cares for you—even if it’s in his twisted, roundabout way. Still, enough that you were his first and only priority to shove into the little bunker beneath your estate surprised you a bit.

You aren’t sure Naoya thought his decision out—you know he didn’t have time to properly. The way he rushed to your room and scooped you in his arms, no pit stops before locking the thick bunker door closed behind him—before anyone else had the chance to join. It ended up being for the best, explosions outside were heard only too shortly after—still, you hope he doesn’t regret it.

You’re nearing day 10 inside your small shelter, and if the shaking ground and dire radio warnings Naoya managed to pick up are any indicator—the world outside isn’t going to be inhabitable again for a while.

Naoya is handling things better than expected. He’s thrown himself to small tasks—keeping the mind sharp he calls it. He’s less grumpy than he could be—resilient. Honestly the one lacking in mental fortitude is you.

“You can’t just sit there watching me do push ups. You need to move around too, dummy.”

“Nii-san im starting to lose the point.”

“The point?”

“I don’t understand why anything matters anymore if we’re all that’s left.”

He wipes sweat from his brow, glaring at you while he drinks some water.

“You just said it. Things still matter because we are still here. Eventually outside will be safe again and we’ll get out and start over. Don’t get all stupid and weepy in the meantime.”

You try to stay occupied, you try to do as Naoya says, but still, you struggle. Spending day after monotonous day trapped in here, you can’t help but start to get depressed.

Then one day Naoya says he needs to touch himself.

And there’s no room for you to avoid him while he does. You’re uncomfortable—-giving him a look that conveys it. But he insists he has to.

“I’m a man. Don’t be dense.”

Before you know it his cock is out and he’s fisting it at a leisurely pace, leaning back on the bed with his other hand. You face away from him, trying and failing to focus on rereading your book. But then he says your name, and when you look he’s still exposed and hard, but he beckons for you to come closer. He isn’t satisfied with your closeness till you’re sitting beside him on the bed.

He’s still stroking himself slowly when he says: “You need this, too. Touch yourself.”

You freeze for a minute then shake your head. Is this some kind of test? It’s shameful…

“Saving yourself for marriage doesn’t matter anymore if we’re all that’s left. You’re practically mine now anyways, since our entire clan is obliterated. It’s just me ‘n you.”

...You need to collect your thoughts. In the first place… you’re unsure how far you could get away with disobeying your big brother. He’s been somewhat softer in the shelter, better behaved than he was outside, at least. But you haven’t forgotten the way he used to act when he didn’t get his way… conniving and nasty—you’ve witnessed his wrath more times than you can count. Notably, though, It wasn’t ever pointed at you—his attitude towards his little sister has only ever been mischievous at worst. He’d simply mock and pick apart, invade your personal space and mess up your hair—though you’re sure he’d have been much worse if you didn’t go out of your way to be inoffensive. All in all, a hard no from you now would be a first inside the shelter.

Then there’s the honest truth of the matter: he’s right. Naoya may as well be the last person on earth for all you know, and you have been going crazy with hormones and neediness—but too afraid to touch yourself with no alone time. It’s a week after your period so you’re pretty sure you’re ovulating, and Naoya’s been walking around shirtless, acting just as touchy as always, but kinder than usual—and it’s not like he’s unattractive.

It’s sick that you’re even considering it. Touching yourself at your brother’s command—you’re a daughter of a distinguished clan! Maybe this little bunker truly is making you crazy…

In the end, the same idea that’s been infecting your mind constantly post doomsday wins out: nothing matters anymore anyways.

That thought is how you justify laying back on the bed beside your brother, stripped of your robes and spread-legged, two fingers pumping in and out of your pussy while you buck against your palm.

Naoya’s sharp eyes watch from beside you, never missing a thing while he continues stroking his cock. You’re so relieved to be giving your pussy attention after so long, you don’t even dwell on how messed up it all is.

After a while of trying to cum but barely reaching that special spot inside you to do so, Naoya can’t take watching anymore.

“My sweet sister, how old are you, again? You can’t even make yourself cum?” Naoya tucks his hard-on in the waistband of his pants, focusing entirely on you.

The mattress squeaks as he scoots closer, large hand around your ankle to spread you wider for his gaze.

You stop pumping your fingers, giving him a slow stare. He frowns. “No, no, keep trying. Let me see what’s the matter.”

So you do, working yourself up while you and Naoya watch each other, humping your palm when you get close again. You whine, biting your lip while you brush against the part inside you that feels best. Still, it’s not enough. You’re on the edge of tears searching for that release when—

“Okay, stop, sweet thing. You clearly need a man to do this.”

You pant while you look up at him, remembering what exactly is going on here when you pull your messy fingers away. It only makes you wetter when you think of the nastiness of it all.

“Nii-san?”

It shouldn’t surprise you when his fingers replace yours, but it does, Naoya’s warm touch with no warning earning a little jump.

He doesn’t comment, only sets to work with his middle and ring finger sinking deep into your hole, curling right where you need them but couldn’t reach yourself, pressing his thumb to your clit at the same time.

It feels heavenly. So good you almost close your eyes, but you can’t somehow. You wouldn’t want to lose a glimpse of Naoya—his eyes are transfixing.

And, like always, Naoya watches you back.

His expression while he does is patient and relaxed in a way that reminds you of when he helped you with homework or something as a kid. Patient and bored if you ever struggled or needed help—like he always had low expectations for you. You suppose that’s why he had so much more patience for you than he did for other family members—your shortcomings were at times endearing while those he thought were supposed to be strong had stricter standards.

Ultimately, an inability to make yourself cum seems like something Naoya expected of you.

And he wasn’t lying about his ability to help—his bigger fingers fit inside you just where you need them, and it takes your brother only minutes to earn your release, clamping down on him while you make a mess on the bed, crying out and arching—after edging for so long the orgasm lasts what feels like forever.

Noaya fucks you after that. He may as well, he tells you—he still needs to get off and it’ll feel good for you this way too. And he’s right, he may as well. It’s the end of the world and your brother may as well fuck you. And of course his cock feels amazing—it manages to feel like a solace in this bunker where nothing matters.

After that day, miraculously, you start to perk up. Naoya figured out the key to your depression, the key to keeping you occupied—it’s sex. Everyday your big brother fucks you and every day you get better.

Things stay interesting because when you’re fucking every day—you experiment. Or at least, Naoya does—he’s the creative one between the two of you, you’re just along for the ride.

You wake up in knots of rope one morning with Naoya’s tongue between your legs—you’re in the middle of an orgasm. He splits you open on his cock afterwards for good measure. He lets you ride him another day, something you’re fairly sure he’s never let a woman do. You cockwarm him while the two of you read a book at the same time—it’s silly. He’s kept you tied up almost an entire day before, doing whatever he wanted, exposed and embarrassed. You’re his little cock sleeve of a sister, he says.

“You know I’m actually glad that at least this way, stuck in here, no other clan can have you. They wouldn’t deserve you as a wife, not one of them. It’s a silver lining—this way, you’re all mine.”

#naoya x reader #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #naoya zenin x reader #naoya fic #naoya smut #jjk fic #naoya zenin fic #tw.incest #tw.dubcon #tw.misogyny #tw.degradation #tw.somnophilia #🐞 writes

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

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┌─ “ ! „ ADORE L'AMOUR

tw. noncon/dubcon, implied yandere, forced emotional cheating, virginity, service dom, coercion/manipulation, corruption kink, size kink, creampie, service dom! tsumu, degradation and praise wordcount. 5.5k

a/n. commissioned by a lovely person who wanted to stay anonymous, thank you so much for commissioning me and trusting me with your story, and i really really hope it delivers and you enjoy!!! this is kinda softer than my usual stuff but also still read the tws pretty please ♡♡♡ ya and ty and enJOYyy some tsumu

miya atsumu x fem!reader

“Come up, will ya?” he smiles, grabbing your hand and swinging the interlaced pair back and forth. You can’t help but have to bite back a tiny smile at the way his rougher hand links into yours, and butterflies still erupt any time his hazel eyes find you.

“Shin, I-” you sigh back, before quietly chuckling as he heaves you up onto the bleachers and tugs you along to slide in right next to the familiar face. Aran rolls his eyes, but you can tell that there’s too much fondness in his look to seriously mind the lovey-dovey shit— and really, you can’t help it.

Any girl your age would be expected to go all heart eyes when their boyfriend looks at them that way. “Happy now?” you ask as you’re pushed between Aran and the escape to the outside fresh air, void of all the sweaty teen musk and squeaking sneakers, and Shinsuke smiles ever so slightly at the sight.

“Yes, I am. Keep our long-suffering ace company for a bit while he patches up his ankle, won’t ya?” He’s already escaping down from the stands with the knowledge that you will, because if nothing else, you love watching the guys play. You’ve loved watching Shinsuke play ever since middle school, and Aran’s expression gives you the idea that he knows this too. Because he simply shrugs, and re-wraps the ice pack a little better around that wounded ankle.

“Aye aye, Captain,” you shoot back as he makes his way back to the court, and this time, he gives you that wonderfully cheeky smile that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. “And you, you’re a third year. You’re supposed to be one of the responsible ones.” You give the tall ace to your side a side-eye as he laughs full and loud, and nods.

“Sorry, Mrs. Kita. It won’t happen again.” Practice continues for another half an hour in peace, as you joke around with your boyfriend’s best friend for a while, tossing the occasional stray ball back onto the court, but mainly, just watching the guys play. You didn’t use to have such a love for the sport. When you were a ball-girl back in middle school, you only did it because it was an easy extra grade on your report card, and kept you sort of busy during hours you wouldn’t have anything else to do.

But now, sometimes it seems as much your life blood as it is theirs. You probably wouldn’t have developed such a crush on the quiet, well-spoken boy with the fluffy tufts of hair that flopped about if you hadn’t kept with it, wouldn’t have dated him, wouldn’t have laid in the dark talking about what your life together might look like. Watched Shin grow into the person he is today.

You smile and wave as Shinsuke looks up at you yet again and throws back a wink, and a few of the guys follow his gaze. Familiar lazy gazes of differing shades of brown. But they stay quiet, for now, and the team captain claps his hands to call for a break. And the lankiest of your middle blockers groans and reaches for a bench too quickly, as everyone disperses. Aran makes his way down the stands for the toilet, Ginjima follows suit, and your boyfriend goes through the trouble to start collecting the balls with the same single-minded focus he always has while practicing. But before you can so much as manage to make it down the stairs to help him out, a familiar figure comes up beside you.

“Captain’s got it, I think,” Atsumu smiles as he comes to walk beside you, not the slightest bit winded despite having jogged up to you after an hour of intensive training— and blinks down at you with the self-assured grin you’ve come to expect of the star setter. “Yer still comin’ to our practices, huh?”

“Yes, Miya. Believe it or not, I actually like watching you guys play, ‘m not just here to waste time and gawk.”

“Whoa, doll,” the blond isn’t fazed, and simply throws up his hands in mock-defense, “I wouldn’t dare question the validity of yer visits. I mean, ya brighten up the place, really.” The comfortable way he swings an arm over your shoulder and leans in a little isn’t too far out of how he usually acts, and you do know that Atsumu’s pretty damn touchy with everyone. But his smile, and the way his eyes flick down your face with an almost grating intensity— will never stop feeling flirty- and therefore- inappropriate. Though you try to find something fitting to say, he’s already running his mouth again before you get the chance to.

“Would be even better if ya’d put on a shirt with my name on it and took some cheer classes,” he gloats, and the way he walks leaned into you keeps his face much too close to yours as you go to frown at him, “bet ya’d really suit the Inarizaki colors when you glare like that.” It sets you off, and he knows it does, because he’s dodging the way you go to swing at his arm with a chuckle before you get to, and catches your fist in his hand to squeeze it a little. “Hah, always so mean to me. Getting predictable, pretty girl.”

Your bottom lip is sucked to slot between your teeth, and you roll your eyes, shrugging off the other hand that he tried to ruffle through your hair. “You’re exhausting.”

“Sure is,” Shinsuke suddenly mumbles, tossing a ball at the setter that he manages to catch, before raising a brow. “That’s my girlfriend, Atsumu. If you would, please.”

“Ya got it, Cap’n. Of course,” he chants back with a sing-song-y voice, but his thumb still rubs another few circles into the soft skin of your hand before he goes to annoy Osamu and Suna instead. It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but he’s pulling away before you have the chance to really acknowledge the touch. And if Kita has any concerns about what he just saw, you sure as hell can’t tell, when he pulls you close and places a loving kiss between your brows. But you still have to force yourself to ignore the way Atsumu gives you a once over and -if you didn’t know the guy better than that- undresses you with his eyes.

Graduation should feel a little bittersweet, you guess. The party isn’t too wild, considering, but it’s still loud and a little over the top— so you confine yourself to the area further away from the pounding music and sip reasonably mild drinks while the rest of the team and their plus-ones take their best attempt at rattling Suna’s house off its’ foundations. It’s warm for a spring night, and sweat sticks to the back of your neck and chest from the earlier forced dancing you were pulled into. But now the pool table has been abandoned for the garden, and you take the few quiet moments to breathe.

Most of the guys will be moving on to professional level, a few of them to university, and another few have jobs lined up. Just last year, Shinsuke moved back out to the countryside, and Aran to Tokyo; and while you’ve all tried to keep up communications, distance really does play a big part in it. And now it’s all your turns… It’ll be safe to say you won’t see some of them again much in just a few quick months. The thought already fills you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You don’t get too much rest though, because a flash of blonde followed by an equally handsome, dark-haired copy filter back into the house. Atsumu brightens a little when he spots you, lazy eyes sharper and more calculating in the low light of the house. Of course he does, he seems to have a strange fascination with annoying you to bits.

“Well, pretty girl, ‘ve ya been abandoned by yer human defense robot?” His handsome face paints on a grin, with slightly rosy cheeks and ears, that almost makes him look a few years younger. Almost makes him look innocent. You know better though, and swallow down the want to give back some snarky comment that would surely have you in a battle of wits until someone puts a stop to it. And his twin… isn’t that person. You wonder how much he’s had to drink. Not that you’re doing much better, anyway. You can feel the buzz in your blood and the heat on your face.

Osamu’s hair is messy and fluffier than usual, probably courtesy of the girlfriend he brought and— with a quick glance around the room— has been left on her lonesome somewhere in the partying group outside. You pity her just a little bit, but it doesn’t exactly surprise you that the Miya twins aren’t the most consistent with their affections. The guys started having groupies all the way back in freshman year, and the years have only built upon that fame. The darker haired of the two puts a fist into Atsumu’s shoulder, before crossing his arms. “That’s our last Captain yer talkin’ about, stupid Tsumu. Show some respect.”

“Aw, Samu. I’m sorry, alright.”

You smile softly, and nod your head towards the door. “Not abandoned. He stepped out for a minute for a smoke,” you cut them off, knowing full well they could continue their bickering for hours if left to it. It’s not like you don’t like the twins. They’re obnoxious, and boisterous and hyper at the best of times, but they’re insanely talented too. You would like them, if not for— Atsumu feeling too comfortable hanging his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a hug, heavy cologne mixed with a scent that is distinctly more him enveloping you as you freeze up. “Miya-”

“‘S gonna be weird without everyone ‘round, huh? I’ll miss ‘em,” he lowers his voice as he keeps your face into his chest, and simply out of a desire not to feel too awkward, you allow your arms to wrap loosely around his back. You give a little motion to be let out of the hug to nod, and smooth your hands down your pants.

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s a sort of glint in Atsumu’s eyes that seems like tenderness as he pats your shoulder, then smiles. “Well, a’least you’ll know me.” Your expression must give away your confusion, because he continues. “Yer goin’ to Tokyo uni, I’m goin’ to Tokyo to check out some of the teams there. It’ll be good. Don’t tell me yer just gonna ignore me when we’re gonna live so close together.”

You don’t think it over- Shinsuke must’ve told him. As the buzz washes over you and the music picks up outside, Atsumu’s large hands find your shoulders and he turns you around towards Osamu, who has already poured three large shots. “Oh, I don’t-”

“Come on~ for prosperity,” Osamu chants, his hand finding yours to unfurl it and place one of the large shot glasses in your hand. And Atsumu nods behind you, basically glittering from excitement. You’re normally a bit more -standoffish, by necessity- but the atmosphere of the night is light. And Tsumu’s hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards one of the chairs and sits you down is nice; even if you only realize a second or two after that he’s sat below you.

“Ya owe me a couple cheers at least,” Atsumu basically coos into your neck as he taps his own glass to yours. “‘Sides, I think Shin went ta go drop off some of the other guys, no need ta wait up for ‘em. Right Samu?”

“That’s what I heard, Tsumu.”

You don’t expect university to be the thing that breaks you, but the distance, the lack of communication, of support— all drag on you. You and Shin both promised to make it work, but he’s busy a lot. The farm keeps him occupied. At least- that’s what you have to assume when most of your messages get read and not answered. It isn’t like Shin, but then again, you suppose it’s a growing period. It’s natural.

More surprising than that is that through it all, Atsumu is there a lot more than you expected. The giant, prestigious sport center where he trains isn’t too far from your campus, but he still goes out of his way to swing by whenever he can to keep you company, which isn’t so self explanatory as you had hoped it would be. It’s not that you don’t make friends, or can’t make friends, it’s just that- after a few weeks- they just seem to vanish off of the face of the earth. Like they were never even there to begin with. You even catch some people purposefully avoiding you on campus as the year goes on.

But the workloads are heavy, and hard, so you sadly don’t have enough time in a day to worry about it as much as you would like to. You still have Atsumu, at least, and as much as you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it shy of a few months ago, his persistence about wanting to be by your side does slowly have you bending just a little.

“I swear it, cross ma little heart,” the blonde dramatically says while walking the grounds with you- on his free day- “am I not the best goddamn setter in the prefecture? What choice is there?” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks over at you to pout. “Make me feel better, c’mon.” Before you can really analyze the moment or how he looks at you with those warm brown eyes and too much fondness, his hand wraps around yours, slipping his fingers between yours with a strange determination.

You stop walking, and your school bag hits your thigh hard because of the abrupt stop. “Atsumu.” You’ve had this conversation with him about a million times. You are with Shinsuke. You have been with Shinsuke since middle school, and though dealing with the distance is hard right now, you promised to try. And he says he understands, and you’re making a big deal out of nothing— but it sure doesn’t seem like he does. “I am d-dating Sh-”

“Ya keep sayin’ yer dating, but where is yer boyfriend? Didn’t ya say he hasn’t been responding to yer messages?” Though he tries to keep his voice down, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and stares like he’ll burn holes through the shape of you. “Ain’t that proof enough?”

“I know Shinsuke, and you know Shinsuke. If he wanted to break up, he would say it.” You puff your chest out a little, and swallow, trying to untangle your hands from his grip. “He’s busy, and this is a transition period for us both, and I just- I want to make it work.” Atsumu seems to cling on for a second longer with a slight kink in his brow, but then he lets go and sighs, rubbing his hands back and forth through his lighter blonde hair with a groan.

“Fine— fine! If ya gotta hear ‘im say it…”

The irony tastes bitter. It stings with every swallow, really.

‘I think it’s not working out. I’m sorry. We should break up.’

You’re staring at the message for the nth time this evening, burying yourself in your cocoon of blankets and an almost empty back of chips yet again. You must’ve breathed it into existence, right? There’s no way around the timing of the message, and the sick way it churns in your stomach. You’re halfway towards another crying fit when Atsumu plops himself down onto your bed and grimaces. “Put that down,” he mumbles, snatching the phone out of your hand despite your glare, “you’ve been cryin’ all fucking evening. You really wanna do more of that?”

“I didn’t ask you to come over,” your voice is a murmur, pinched and sad and tiny, because who wouldn’t be heartbroken at a moment like this. “You just invited yourself in, which- hck- is the worst timing you’ve ever had.”

“But yer glad I’m here. I know ya are.” Whatever. Maybe you’re a little glad for the company, but Atsumu’s flavor of bluntness is really doing a number on you. Instead you reach for a tissue and blow your nose again, and try not to cry yourself to death. “He didn’t treat ya right anyway, don’t lie t’ yerself. Hey- look- look at me, c’mon,” his hands are on your face as he tugs it towards him and stares too deep into your eyes, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “No more cryin’ about yer shitty high school crush. Not while I’m here, and I’m yer amazing, incredible support system that yer so very grateful for-” He breaks off in laughter when you have to bite a chuckle back despite your heartache, and try to pull your face out of his touch.

But he lingers, and leans in a little. “What? Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong, and I- I’m glad you’re here-” It isn’t a lie, but he’s still leaning in, and his face is growing awfully close and it’s- it’s too soon— and you shrink into your cocoon and look away in an attempt to save the situation. Shin broke up with you hours ago. “Atsumu-” you start, only to be cut off as he tugs the blankets down somewhat harshly, and clicks his tongue.

“Stop runnin’. Yer always doing this crap, I’m…” He sighs, and tries to coach you back out with thinly veiled patience. “Am I really so bad to ya? Hm?”

“Of course you’re not.”

He sits back, before patting his lap, and looks at you. In the last light of the sun that falls through your window he’s cast in the prettiest oranges and pinks, and looks almost ethereal to the world. You’re not blind. That was never in question. “Come here.” Despite being conflicted, there’s a glint in his eye that worries you. That if you were to disagree, he’d leave. And you’re not sure you could handle that right about now. As he leads you out of the blankets you notice how cold your room is in just a shirt and some ugly shorts, and Atsumu mumbles something under his breath. “Ya weren’t this shy at graduation, y’know.”

Your frown digs into your face, but his hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in and pushes you down into his lap with a soft hum. “What do you mean- graduation?”

“Just settle down, will ya? Jeez.” Warm hands that slide to the small of your back to force you ever so close to him, your heart basically stuttering out of your ribcage. “Always so damn skittish ‘round me.” You always wondered a little, truthfully. If the way Atsumu’s touches would linger on you was something to worry about, keep an eye on. If you should have been more careful about setting boundaries- and how he looks at you now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he gives you an up and down… it says enough. Too much, even.

And though you admit that your heart is pattering like a hummingbird, there’s a much larger issue here. You love Shinsuke, you want- Shinsuke, p-promised you’d make it work for him— and it's barely been a few hours. You can’t, so you try to find the words to say; but the blond leans down to start pressing kisses down the side of your neck with a soft chuckle. His arms wrap tightly around your back, even though you place a hand on his chest and shake your head. “Tsumu, no. We can’t, I- can’t, let go.”

The noise he makes into the kisses trembles through your skin and seems to reach bone, before he squeezes a little harder to keep you slotted against him. “Yer so pretty, baby. Always were so fuckin’ pretty,” he goes from keeping you in his lap to slowly pushing you back in bed, sending your breathing into shallow spikes.

“Tsumu, cut it out!”

“I know yer nervous,” his pretty brown eyes are blown out when he pushes you down by your shoulders and you’re buried in your blankets, before he descends on your throat and chest again, kissing and leaving biting nicks, “didn’t do nothin’ like this before right? Know ya were waitin’- but I got ya now. Relax, I’ll make ya feel good. Promise.” The idea that Tsumu knows something so personal about you doesn’t even cross your mind— though it should, more than the way his weight and size locks you in place under his strong, athletic body.

“No, no, I- Shin just broke up with me- and I-”

His expression darkens, eyes narrowing a little as he comes to hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek as the other wraps tight around your wrist. “Don’t say another man’s name when I got ya under me.” He takes a long breath, before descending on you, mouth to mouth, and then pushing his tongue into your mouth too hard for you to keep him out. You try to call his name, but he kisses you without regard, uncaring as he grips your face and makes a noise of agreement when you relax your jaw out of sheer necessity. “Ya’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted ya, doll. Really, hah.”

His hand slides down your chest to start picking the shirt up your body, and though your rapidly rising and falling chest is exposed, his eyes stay sharp on you, and you can’t help but choke on your cries. He doesn’t look right. His eyes are wide and so sharp, mouth slightly curled as he forces your both wrists next to your head. “Thought I was gonna have ta kill ‘im for you ta finally give in, but-” He kisses you again, before the hand gripping your face snakes down between your bodies to grab your tits through your shirt as he repositions his thighs to lock your lower half in place under him. “Yer gonna be a good little thing for me, ain’t ya?”

“Tsumu,” you squeak, fisting your hands into his shirt by his shoulders, but it only makes him groan in response. “Let me go, I want-”

“You don’t know what ya want.” He takes a deep breath, before slipping his hands under the garment and brushing his thumb over your raised nipples, peeked from the cold air. “But I do. ‘N I’m gonna make ya beg for me so fuckin’ good.” He lets you go for a moment to take your shirt off with rough tugs, before staring again. “See, Samu said I should give it a rest. But how can I, when I knew you’d be the prettiest little virgin cunt ever? Hm?” He licks his lips, before leaning down to start kissing all over your tits, sucking and tugging at your nipples with noises that make you grow from the inside. A cold shiver rolls down your spine, and you find yourself pulling his hair despite yourself. Because it feels good, and heat pools low in your belly.

“Tell me ya want it. Tell me ya want me.” The fire that seems to glint behind his eyes takes you aback, and you try to scramble from under him, but he’s back over you before you get a chance to. Gripping your face and forcing you into another kiss, the taste of his tongue on yours, deep and heavy. “People here hate ya, don’t ya know that? Think yer a real bitch. That’s why no one wants to be yer friend.” He rests his forehead to yours, so that you’re basically breathing each other’s air, and hums. His free hand starts taking off the sweats he’s wearing in a smooth motion, leaving him hard in just boxers. “But I’ve been ‘ere for you.” Another kiss. “I’m good to ya, too.”

The room is so hot, and your brain completely thrown off with the mix of all emotions you’ve felt in these short few hours; and it has you all fucked up. Tsumu must know this, but he doesn’t care. And you take a few panted breaths, looking between your two bodies at the was your tits brush up against him each time you move— he’s so close. “So say you want it, or I’m leavin’.”

“I want it.” Your voice shakes as it comes out, eyes stinging, head floaty— it barely feels like you said anything at all. “I want you.” He takes that as all he needs before grinning, kissing your temple and shuffling off you to shove his boxers down his thighs, before grabbing himself by the base and stroking a few lazy pumps along himself.

“Here, kiss it,” he nods his head towards it, helping you up and then right back down so you’re on your hands and knees. You’re getting wet. Sadly, you didn’t exactly think to put on any nice panties, but Tsumu doesn’t care as he makes you lean in and down until you can rest your lips to his cock, and he makes another noise. “I know it’s kinda bad but- I’ve been wanting ta fuck yer face for years now. Put- yer tongue out.” The admission only makes you feel more hot and hazy, and you do as you’re told. “Ahh, mhm.” He tastes weird when he pushes the glossy head to your tongue, translucent precum coating your tongue, but he takes a few more pumps, then pushes you back over.

“But not now, I wanna fuck you first. Yer gonna let me fuck your tight, little cunt, right?” The plush in your face doesn’t hide the heat as it floods to your face, your belly, down your legs— and he manhandles your legs up to start peeling off your shorts and panties. You can feel the strings of slick as they connect your wet pussy and the fabric, and hide your face into your shoulder before he groans your name again. “Yer so fuckin’ wet, look atcha. Already a little cock tease, and I haven’t even done nothin’ yet.” Your hot, puffy pussy is revealed, and he swipes two fingers out to circle around the wet hole without hesitation, only pulling back to slot the digits in his mouth. He shrugs his shirt off and tosses it next to the bed, then comes to kiss you again.

“Ya taste that? That’s yer pussy gushin’ like a whore for me. Only me.” He kisses like he’s got something to prove, taking your mouth up until all you can think of is him, and the places where your skin seems to zap under his rough hands. Each touch leaving you more breathless than the next. And you’re forced to just nod along and abide, because you couldn’t ask for what you need if you tried. He plays with your tits while pushing first one prodding digit in, but soon pushes up with two. “Gotta- prep this little hole before I fill you up, right? That’d be the nice thing to do. Even though ya haven’t been very nice to me, babe.”

“‘m sorry- Tsumu-” you hold back a whimpering moan as he squeezes your tits hard and flicks your nipples, and his fingers slowly push into you. The wetness dripping down your slit and along your inner thighs is hot, and your body curves instinctively as he slowly slides in and out a few times, while the man above you chuckles.

“No, you ain’t, little minx.” His grin is still wide though, hiking your one leg higher to get a better look at the way your greedy pussy swallows up his long fingers and he fucks you open so easily. “S’okay tho, I forgive ya. ‘Cus I’m gonna get to fuck this pretty pussy first.” The slick sounds fill the room and sound so, so loud, and lewd, and yet, there’s still more noise coming from your throat as he goes deeper again and his thumb finds your puffy clit with a little hum. “Uhuh, that feel good? Look at you enjoying this. Didn’t you want me ta stop? Huh?”

“Hm,” you just answer, grabbing your own chest with one hand, his arm with the other. He’s so much bigger than you like this, so muscular and intimidating. You look between your bodies to watch his fingers bottom out, and though the stretch is a little uncomfortable, it’s mostly just really, really good, filling your head with fog. Tsumu’s thick cock twitches between his legs, and he leans in to kiss you again. This time pulling his hand back to slide it into your mouth instead, making you gag when his fingers hit the back of your throat. You taste heady, a little musky, and lick your lips for the thin thread of spit when he pulls back.

“Alright, say thank you, Tsumu.”

“-thank you, Tsum-” you parrot, and also freeze under him when he goes to reposition himself and his cock head pushes at your sloppy, wet slit. “Wait- condom-”

“Shhh, just relax. If you freak out it’ll hurt ya.” He places one elbow next to your head, and lines himself up better, before starting to push into you already, and your leg jerks. He’s really big. Too big, you think, trying to take a deep breath as he starts breaking open your slick walls and slowly moving back and forth through it. “Aghh, that’s- it, that’s it, thatsithatsit-” He moans loudly, pushing your cheek up and kissing you back long and deep, tongues messily tangling and tasting each other, bumping noses as he fucks in, and in, and in. It pulls every thought out of you, every fiber filled with electricity. The tightness is painful, but you don’t want him to pull back, and judging by the way he groans into your mouth, he won’t anyway.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m fucking my tiny virgin cunt with a condom,” he pants when pulling back, eyes blown wide. His hand pushes your knee up more to stare at where you’re connected, before pulling back halfway and fucking back in, and the pressure on your womb and belly is enough to have you whining out so loud it barely sounds human. “That good, huh?” He bottoms out again, feels so fucking deep inside you that you can feel him high up in yourself bumping against your walls, and it feels so good, so, so good your toes curl and your knees lock around him.

“Fuck,” you can just barely gasp, before he pumps into you again, and starts really grinding himself into you. Slick drips out of you with each thrust, and makes the bed rattle under his weight. His hair sticks matt to his forehead, his lip pulled between his teeth, and the wet slapping of his hips meeting your skin is so distracting. Everything aches. Everything feels so good. You can barely even feel the sting anymore, jerking on his cock like you are. “Tsumu, I-”

“Gon’ have ta wait, princess,” he suddenly chokes, “yer clamping down on me like crazy— fuck.” He lifts one knee to push your legs open more, and then just shakes his head as he starts speeding up. “Oh, fuck it, gonna fill you up first. So fuckin’ tight, god, fuck-” The heavy thrusts go more sloppy, rapid as he chases his own orgasm and squeezes your thigh hard, yanking your teary cheeks back towards him as you pant to slide a finger between your lips and dropping a glob of his own spit into your mouth like it’s normal. Groaning into your mouth, and fucking his fat cock so deep into you you see stars. “One experience at a time, right?”

“Ah, Tsumu- p-please, fuck-me more, more, touch- more.” Your head rolls back as he pulls your hips back into him again and again, before suddenly locking up, and feeling how hot ropes of cum fill you up and he pants out your name in between a string of swears that all melt into a long growled moan as he stills. Only for a second though, because he’s quick to pull out and roll you back so that your knees are by your head, and he’s on top of you. He strokes his cock a few times, watching the last of the strings of thick cum land between your thighs. “Tsumu-” you pant, and take a breath, and pout- all at once. Because he stares at the way his cum comes out of your sloppy hole, before pushing it back inside. “Ughn-”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not done. Not even close.” He spits onto his hand before bringing two fingers back to your pussy, and his thumb over your needy, puffy bud. And you jerk, blinks stuttering as you moan high and needy. Can’t help it. “Yer gonna wish I was done with ya long before I let ya out of this bed. I’m not done playing with my pussy.”

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.virginity #tw.noncon #tw.degradation #tw.dubcon #tw.size kink #tw.dark content #tw.creampie #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.atsumu

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miyaagis · 6 months

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may i request a part 2 of yandere kuroo-nii😔💳💥💳💥💳💥

tetsu-nii part 1 here

+ pairing. kuroo t. / fem reader

+ warnings. incest, vaginal penetration, breeding, degradation. im not sure if this counts as yandere but u asked for tetsu-nii so here he is ♡

he had seen you cum under his touch twice already, the first time just by playing with your little clit and the second one by fucking your entrance with two of his fingers.

and yet, he craved more.

you were already babbling nonsense, bent over the kitchen counter with your sweet cunt fluttering as you waited for him to stretch it around his cock. the skin of your thighs looked beautiful with your juices running down them, inciting him to push through your folds once and for all.

"this pussy's so warm... all mine," the fit of your muscles around his cock was heavenly, waking up every nerve and inducing a state of hyper awareness on him, "you want my cum, yeah?"

"yes, please... n-need it."

"such an obedient little whore," his hand caressed the skin of your ass, mapping the space where your hip met your thigh and then bringing it back to your ass cheek, "what would mom and dad say? seeing their precious daughter begging for her brother's cock, hm?"

kuroo finally allowed his hips to move backwards before thrusting harshly into your pussy, watching you hold onto the granite as your whines resounded all over the place with each slap.

"getting bred like a fucking bitch."

it was way too much, and way too fast—but you'd rather feel so full of his cock than go months without it again. the line between pleasure and pain blurred and whimpers and moans escaped your throat involuntarily the faster he went, so close to his orgasm already.

"shh, s'okay baby. i'll give you what you want," his grunts were low and breathless, his entire strength going to the muscles of his pelvis, "gonna give my baby sis all the babies she wants."

a minute later and you were being used as a cum dump, his seed overflowing your pussy and dripping down his length.

your walls and heart fluttered in synchrony, something waking up deep in your soul that begged for more of him, more of his cum. wanting kuroo to cover every inch of skin with it and to fill your womb.

the thought caused your hips to push against his, your moans whiny and desperate as your hands went to your ass to spread out the plush skin, presenting your little cunt to him.

"fuck– more?" he laughed at the desperate 'yes!' you let out, running a hand through his hair and giving a gentle thrust just to see your ass bounce, "alright, you're not leaving then. ever."

#💌.thirst #kuroo.xo #tw.incest #tw.degradation #if i missed a tag lmk !#long overdue ik ik SOWWY

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dark-and-kawaii · 5 months

Text

༺ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐔𝐬𝐞 ༻

The rest of the lesser devils in court stood around you both, watching your disgrace unfold as you were used by Raphael.

Raphael | NSFW - Voyeurism - Exhibition

Your hands grip the armrests of the throne he had forced you into when he started this little game of his. You had refused to play along at first but it became clear quickly that Raphael wasn't looking for a challenge. You were no match for the Devil, especially not since you handed him the crown. The throne was an odd shape and your legs were spread uncomfortably wide as your feet struggled to find purchase somewhere.

The rest of the lesser devils in court stood around you both, watching your disgrace unfold as you were used as nothing more than a hole for their newfound leader. You can't bear to meet their gaze, knowing the shame and disgrace that fills the air. Your eyes fluttered shut, you could feel your release coming, it wouldn't be the first time you came from Raphael using your body in front of others. You hated yourself for it but your body was trained to react this way, you had been conditioned to love it. To crave it. To respond to his every command.

Raphael can feel your walls tightening around him, signaling your impending release. He revels in the control he has over you, relishing the power he holds. Suddenly, he stops his thrusting, his cock buried deep inside you. He watches you intently, a sick grin spreading across his face. You open your eyes, tears streaming down your face, your body trembling with need.

Your head falls back against the throne, your throat dry from panting. You swallow hard, aware of Raphael's gaze fixed upon you. He wants you to beg, to surrender the last shred of control you have left. You fight against it, but deep down, you know you must comply.

"Beg for it, little mouse," he demands, his claws digging into the fabric of the throne as he grips it. His hips slamming into you, the force of his thrusts leaving you breathless. You gasp, your voice shaky as you plead, "Pl-please!"

But it was far too late, you crossed the line. You came without his permission, and Raphael's annoyance is evident. He seizes your hair, twisting it harshly, causing pain to shoot through your body. He cranks your neck, his grip unyielding. "Vermin," he growls, "it appears you elude growth. Untameable creatures, sworn to stay loath."

You whimper, desperate to please him. "P-please. I-I can do better," you plead, hoping to regain his favor.

Raphael throws your head back, the impact against his throne forgotten as he continues his relentless assault. Your body responds, twitching with every thrust, your moans growing louder. You can't fight it anymore. Your walls tighten around him once more, and you can feel his release building.

With a primal low groan, Raphael leans forward and sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing a mix of pain and pleasure to surge through you. Your body convulses, your mind going blank as your release crashes over you again. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream of ecstasy.

As you tremble, drained and lifeless against the throne, Raphael withdraws from you, his seed leaking from your spent body. He grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him, his voice filled with sadistic delight. "Tell me, oh Apple of my eye… What should your punishment be? Perhaps I should allow one of these devils below to enjoy you."

Hot tears stream down your face as you realize Raphael's words are meant to provoke you. The thought of being used by another other than Haarlep or himself, of being treated like a mere toy, fills you with dread. "R-Raphael, no, please..." you plead, your voice filled with a mix of fear and desperation. A chill ran down your spine at the thought of one of them releasing their own seed into you…

You wanted to trust he wouldn’t… But deep down, you know that in the realm of Hell, trust is a fragile thing, and the wickedness that resides within the souls of devils runs deep and untamed.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tav #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #baldurs gate #tw.degradation #tw.voyeurism #tw.exhibitionism #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 smut #raphael #bg3 x reader

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halfwashedgooch · 4 months

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best friend who challenges you to see who has a higher tolerance but you don’t think you remember them taking more than 1 hit

“there’s no way you have any chance of beating me, i can out smoke you any day pretty. what are you talking about? this is like my 4th hit, i swear.”

best friend who watches you take hit after hit, not even trying to stop you. just smiling, watching you become more and more dazed

“i think you actually did it pretty! you should take a celebratory b0ng hit. what do you mean your head feels funny? you just jumped up too quickly when i said you won. yes, i do think you’re being silly, you’re fine.”

best friend who uses your impaired sense of judgment to their advantage.

“come sit up here near me, you can relax ya know. i won’t bite unless you let me. it’s a joke — i’m joking pretty, i promise. you should unzip your hoodie, it’s so hot in here. i really don’t think you need it. fine, if you don’t want to take it off you can just leave it unzipped.”

best friend who speaks sweetly, whispering lewd thoughts and promises in your ear, watching as your brain leaks out your ear and you slowly become increasingly pliant in their hands.

“have i ever told you how pretty your eyes are? especially when they’re all low and glassy like that. i think you would look so pretty on your knees looking up at me, don’t you think so too? do you tremble like this when you cum? do you get all teary eyed when you do it? you don’t know? well maybe you’ll let me see for myself, how’s that sound pretty? what, of course i’m joking.”

best friend who notices you soaking a wet patch through the front of your sweats, instructing you to take them off

“why have you got your thighs pressed together so tightly? what are you hiding? let me see. aww, that’s so cute. are you turned on or something? from what. are you some type of slut? i didn’t even say anything to you for real. you always make innocent things so filthy. i didn’t say anything like that. i’m being mean?you’re calling me mean? after you just made up these lies about me. i don’t have to be nice to you, i could leave and go back to my place instead of taking care of you. shh it’s ok, it’s ok, you don’t have to cry pretty. now here, you’re gonna get sick if you leave them on. you might as well take them off, you’re gonna mess up my couch. i’m only looking out for you, they’re gonna be uncomfortable when they get cold.”

best friend who sits you down on their lap with your back to their chest in just your boxers and hoodie. feeling them rub circles in your thighs and pinch your nipples.

“i know you’re probably freezing without any pants on, come sit up here. i’m not asking you, i’m telling you. i’ll keep us both warm. what, no, i’m only rubbing to keep you warm. no, there’s no other way, i have to keep pinching them because you’re dozing off during the movie. how could you fall asleep in the middle of it? you’re the one that picked it, i wouldn’t really be happy if you did.”

best friend who sighs in faux annoyance noticing you soaked the front of your boxers, instructing you to take those off too with a huff

“ really? you did it again? seriously, what’s wrong with you. all weird over some friendly touching. i did not touch you like that, what do mean i did this on purpose. are you crazy? why would i ever do something like this on purpose? why would i intentionally risk messing up my couch or my pants? you might as well take those off too. it’s the same thing as your pants. you’re not gonna like them when they get cold. i wouldn’t want you being uncomfortable for no reason.”

best friend who sneaks their hand in between your thighs, pressing their fingers against your clit

“i’m not doing anything, you’re making it all up. you literally just put my hand down there. i’m only doing what you wanted me to do. you didn’t need to say you wanted me to do this. you put my hand here. you’re my best friend, how could i ever say no to you?”

best friend who laughs at you as you squirm and cry out from the heightened sense of pleasure

“is this movie seriously what turns you on? are you sure it’s not the movie? i don’t knowww, i’m not even doing anything to you really. listen to how wet you are. sit still, you can’t hear it properly if you’re moving around so much. shhh this is the good part, you’re gonna miss it if you keep making all those noises. i can’t even hear it over all the sounds you’re making.”

best friend who keeps going long after you’ve made a mess of their lower half and you’ve tried to pull their hand away

“you can’t be possibly be finished yet, we just started. give me one more, you can do one more. stop whining about it, i know your body better than you know your body. i thought you were tough, you beat me and now i’m trying to give you your reward and you’re complaining. move your hands, don’t touch mine again. i can’t believe you. when did my best friend turn into such an ungrateful brat. you’re really hurting my feelings, i think you should apologize to me. yeah, you should and we’re gonna keep going pretty, until i think i can forgive you for being so rude to me.”

best friend who lets you clean their fingers off and relax into them as you doze off

“thereee we go, open up, stick your tongue out. taste good doesn’t it? what do we say when we get rewards? good girl, you’re welcome! yes, of course you did an amazing job. see i knew you were going to enjoy the challenge. shhh, it’s ok, i know you’re sleepy pretty, just lie back. is this blanket warm enough? do you want me to turn the tv down? it’s ok, just close your eyes. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

#tw.dumbification #bunny girl #bunny sub #tw.manipulation #tw.overstimulation #tw.degradation #intox kink #intoxication kink #intox cnc #daddy's good girl #female #condescension #attention wh0r3 #w33d #manipulation #male manipulator #aftercare

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plutopitou · 10 months

Text

◇ Cry for me

gojo satoru x female reader

genre: smut, angst

Gojo is not the type to love so easily. Every falling tear you spill he revels in like a moth to a flame. What did you have to do for him to stay? Easy. Just cry for him even harder. | MDNI 18+

word count: 1.4k

warnings: yandere!gojo, sadistic gojo, degradation, dacryphilia, dub/con, smut, rough sex, dumbification, not for the lighthearted, he’s mean oof, he has a god complex, you have an inferiority complex

im back everyone, please enjoy what rots my infected brain <3

“Go on..” he urges in a lulling whisper.

“Cry for me.”

He wanted to laugh in your face as your wails and whines wisp into the air- his favorite sound to hear out of you.

Gojo couldn’t help but admire just how beautiful you looked when you cried.

It fueled his stomach to spit such vile and callous words while pounding your sensitive pussy, watching the tears bubble up beneath your wet lashes as you latch onto him even harder to match his vicious thrusts.

Carnal instinct takes over to jackrabbit your aching hole with sharp plunges as your face becomes wet on your flush cheeks.

He holds a harsh grip on your chin, forcing you to meet his sweet and cold eyes. “Are you shy? Don’t look away from me..” He gasps out, his heavy breaths constricted from the sensation of fucking your soft plush body.

His words convey a playful tease but is laced with threat. You’re too fucked full to feel his energy shift to something more sinister. Your eyes feel heavy and your mind feels high. Feeling him slide in and out as you focus on his snow-white hair rustle against his pale sheen forehead.

Moaning and writhing beneath him, you’re entranced by his lean and milky body arch and maneuver in such an obscene manner that pleases you infinitely. The glimpse of his back muscles constricting and relaxing as he pushes forward another hard thrust leaves you aching.

Each pump into your soaking pussy has meaning.

He grips onto the soft, fragile flesh of your neck, sending shivers up your spine from the dominance of his touch.

Your vision is drunkenly hazy. His mouth is moving and you can barely make out the muffled words from his soft lips.

Look at you moan baby..

You gotta like this, don’t you?

C’mon, tell me sweetheart..

He liked you so much he just wanted to practically hurt you. Watching you mewl to stop while still begging for more as he bullies your insides was like pretending to throw a ball for an eager dog. You both loved every second of it.

It was so good he almost convinced you he actually loved you - loved by thee Satoru Gojo.

Gojo Satoru was not the type to love or be loved so easily.

He was a white rose with thorns. It irked him why you always seemed to not get the hint you were supposed to keep away.

Months of trying to redirect you away from his path, you still always ended up following his pace. His red flags looked green if you were infactuated enough.

Your fingers are pricked and you bled and bled trying to get a firm grip on the stem, no matter how much it hurt.

Can anyone really blame you for following him like a lost puppy?

Everyone knew a man like him belonged in the middle of a marble museum. He’s always been the main attraction. The center of an exhibit of a series of the most exquisite, bodily sculptures there is. He was the type to be guarded by red velvet rope, so tempting to be touched and admired by anyone who looked, but never touched. Tempting to run your finger through the cold and hard ridges of his abdomen and muscle that was attentively carved.

Satoru Gojo is a man that was carefully crafted by god himself.

A type of man rumored to have some of god’s power as well.

To think someone so divine as him would settle down after he got his fill was a joke. Did you think you were special?

Yet with every pump to your leaking hole you started to doubt if your uncertainty was warranted.

Gojo pulls out and rolls you onto your stomach, wasting no time as he pushed himself right back into your pussy with a gasp, squeezing his shaft from tip to base so good it makes him lightheaded. He grips the base root of your hair, keeping you flat down, the perfect position to keep fuck how he wants, how he needs.

Your eyes are lidded, a euphoric buzz down your body as your tears soak into the pillow..

“Look at your pretty pussy cry for me, too, baby..”

Gojo shuffles his hand to grip onto your lower pelvic, pushing and massaging your sensitive area. “Does it feel good right here, hm? Does it?” You flinch from the sudden arousel, fueling the claps of your skin and squelch of both your sex. You whine feeling yourself drip down your thigh to the white sheets below as you lazily try to push his hand away.

“Don’t you feel pathetic, sweetheart? How easy you make this?” He whispers against the shell of your ear, panting. “Does it feel good to be used like this? Like a fucking fleshlight?”

The sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass echos against the walls of the room, the sound bouncing back into your ears just as aggressively as he’s fucking you.

“Are you gonna be my good baby and hold all my cum in like one, too?”

“Mhm.. I wanna take all of it-“ You mumble, forcing yourself to sound coherent, face still laced with tears.

Tilting your head to the side you wanted to look at him. You wanted to see how he made you feel what you are feeling. How every light touch of his sent shivers down your back and every raspy word made your tummy flutter.

You could shed down that power into tiny fragments from one sensual look and didn’t even know.

He couldn’t let himself fall apart like this.

You yelp as he pushes your head back into the fluffy pillow before you can see past his shoulder. His force and sudden demeanor to not just make you moan, but to make you scream.

He revels in it.

Your pillow soaking in every teardrop and moan, muffled to try and hide your eager desperation. Your ass pushing back on his hard cock, both of your arousel building at the base.

His restricted moans vibrate down your sheen body. Gojo bends his arm to grip your neck, the light sensation of his abs hits your back with his carnal digs to kiss your cervix and give it a sweet gift.

“I want it, please, I want it.” You breathe. Your stream of tears roll down to his hand, and he found it erotic.

“Should I finish, huh? You want my cum, baby?” He prods. “You want me to cum right here?”

God, for your subservient nature there was no other place meant for you. You let this happen to yourself, and he never had a problem letting himself be a little selfish.

“Yeah, you’re gonna take all of it. It’s the least you could do..” Through your encased ecstasy you can hear Gojo’s brief repeated mumbles of just how much you owe him this.

Such a compromising position you were in yet you’re the one still begging.

Gojo couldn’t stop himself from wanting to send himself over the edge. He basked in that euphoric feeling of rapture with every drop of his cum pushed into your pussy, letting his hips roll back in for safe measure.

Little drips of your cum mixed with his seeps out the corners of your hole.

Lifting his weight off your back, you roll to the side in exhaustion. Catching your breath, you feel a sudden clasp on your hand.

He softly guides your fingers down to where your cum is mixed, letting the soft pads run through your slippery folds. Such a lewd position he puts you in. You can feel where his cum runs down your thigh.

Gasping, Gojo pushes your fingers into yourself. “What do you say?” He murmurs softly. His face can be read as expressionless, but his words are condescending.

For a second, you wonder how many more tears you have to spill until he realizes they are more than what he thinks.

Did you have to bottle them up in a jar as a gift for him to see you will give everything you have for his assurance and love?

It is a rocky climb up the pedestal of which he is the center of.

All you wanted was to be by his side.

He watches you carefully for your next choice of words, following the last stray tear tumbling down your flushed cheek.

“Thank you.”

These past couple months have been so rough for me mentally, i struggled to write but im glad I was able to finish this :)

This was inspired by twice’s cry for me who I recently saw on tour and they were amazing.

Ok love you guys hopefully I can finish Dabi, sorry for the absence, I will work harder!

Please like, follow and reblog ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

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tj-ivy · 2 years

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roommate!eren who loves to fuck with you. it's so obvious you have a little crush on him. you're always just so nice to him despite his antics. you're always baking cookies when he asks you to, and cleaning the house after he throws a party while you're gone for a night or two. you're just so sweet to him. and, he loves to see his sweet little roommate even the slightest bit annoyed.

god, the way you react when he teases you. you shiver n squirm after he calls you 'pretty girl' or 'sweetheart.' his absolute favorite way to tease you is to bring different girls over late at night and fuck them so good that you hear their squeals and pussy squelches through the thin walls.

he loves it—the thought of making you jealous—ugh, it makes his dick hard. so hard, that for the past month he's brought home a new girl just to make you a little more jealous. he wants to see how far he can push you before your sweet little attitude turns sour. he knows you're listening, and whimpering as you use your little fingers to try to fill your cunt, desperately wishing that they were eren's.

mornings have been about the same, too. you wake up, bags feeling heavier than the day before because of your lack of sleep. you trudge to the kitchen, and surprise surprise whatever girl was getting their back blown by eren the night before would take her little walk of shame with eren slowly trailing behind her to close the door. he always turns and greets you with a sweet, low and raspy, "good morning." from there, you pick your sickeningly sweet attitude out of your seething jealousy, and carry on with your day.

but, today. today, you were tired. eren had been fucking another random girl. the only difference this time from all the other times was that you had asked eren to keep it down because you really need to sleep.

in fact, you walked straight into his bedroom earlier the day before just to ask him in your sugary sweet tone, "hey eren, could you please keep it down tonight? please? I just have class in the morning at like 8:30 and-" He cut you off and chuckled a bit, "ok, ok, i'll try to keep it down, sweetheart." while tapping the side of your waist. you responded with a simple "thank you." and, with that you smiled sweetly and were off to accomplish whatever else you needed to for the day.

you expected him to do what he said, and "try to keep it down." but, to your dismay, he brought another girl over. this time, it sounded like it was even louder. you could hear each and every one of his thrusts and every word he was spewing from his mouth. your blood was boiling. from calling the random bitch underneath him his "good girl" to hearing her scream as he seemingly hit her spot just right, it all made your simmering jealousy finally boil over.

oh, and don't think eren didn't notice. he was a little shocked at first, but was quickly amused when you started snapping at him. all he had to say was a simple "you look tired, sweetheart." and you were already yelling at him, calling him, "a loud, greasy-haired, cheap whore, who can't keep his limp ass dick in his pants." before lecturing him about why he should shut the fuck up.

when you finished your little rant, he stood in silence. not in fear or shock, but in pure amusement. you really looked like you were about to cry, and that made it even better. his lips curled into a smirk as he patronized you. "aww, you 'bout to cry?"

a weak "no" left your lips as big tears blurred your vision. "aww, baby, i think you are." he grabbed your wrist and walked you through his room and to the bathroom. he roughly squished your chubby cheeks together, forcing you to look the reflection of the mirror. "c'mon, honey. you can cry. did i make you jealous?" hot tears burned your cheeks clearing your vision to see his smug smirk in the mirror.

his hands left your cheeks and moved to your waist as your hiccups died down. keeping his eyes on your tear-filled ones in the mirror, he whispered, "let me make it up to you, yeah? I'll make you feel better before you go to class." you slowly nodded, and he turned you around to face him. he kissed your teary cheeks, and moved to kneel before you. you were perfect. just as he’d imagined. your attitude was always sweet but to him your pussy was way sweeter.

#eren aot #eren x reader #eren x you #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #aot smut #smut #eren <3 #mirror smut #tw.degradation #tw.dacryphilia #aot x reader #eren smut #eren thirst #sorry i haven't been posting much #gonna post again tmrw probably :)

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marimology · 7 months

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LO’AKS PEAKTOBER

nsfw fics for one piece characters during the month of october with a transmasc reader!, reply to be in the taglist or follow the peaktober tag

week 1 october 1-7th

shanks + boa : breeding + pegging + threesome + cnc

shanks : stepcest

week 2 october 8th- 14th

sabo + ace : stepcest, cnc , threesome , sabo and ace do not interact with eachother

nami + robin : sub reader, inappropriate usage of devil fruits

WEEK 3 october 15th - 21st

vinsmoke brothers : gang bang, reading being used like a flesh light, reader is a strawhat

kid + killer : threesome,somno

OCTOBER 22nd - 28th

charlotte katakuri : inappropriate usage of devil fruits,

monster trio: overstim , sub luffy, threesome

strawhats : gangbang , overstim, pegging , toy usage

october 31st

opla!buggy : inappropriate usage of devil fruit, toys, switch buggy,

arlong : non con, hate fucking because reader is a human, technically monster fucking, degradation

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nkogneatho · 5 months

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choso is the kinda man that if you ask him to degrade you in bed, he'll call you a "bitch" in the softest tone and then proceed to cry for an hour because he can never insult you.

#i am sorry but i don't see him as a mean dom ever. he's my meow meow #my chosito #tw.degradation #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen

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dailydoseofsluttythoughts · 4 days

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♡ Not Finished ♡

"You cryin' doll?" He teased, smirking at the streaks of mascara you were leaving behind as you pressed your face harder into the couch cushion. He'd worry about the stains later. For now it's all about you.

He's been pounding your sweet little pussy non-stop for the last 15 minutes. He'd gotten tired of playing his video game and finally turned his concentration to you.

Nothing about this man is small either. Not his devotion to you, nor the size of his cock. He sets a pace that is down right brutal. With the only sound leaving your mouth being screams of pleasure, timed precisely with his harsh thrusts.

"S'too b-big" you stuttered out, tiny hands gripping the blanket you had been cuddling up with whilst you watched Aoi play Fallout. He loved the game but he loved you more. He'd seen you squirming out if the corner of his eye the while time.

"Seen you take toys bigger than this baby, so yer' gonna take what I give you. Or are you not my good little girl?" His question had your eyes popping open as you shook your head side-to-side, smearing more mascara along the couch. "No, m' a good girl, I can take it!" You proclaimed, the only thought in your head is to take his cock as well as you can.

Aoi shifted his position and placed on of his knees on the couch while his other leg stayed put. The angle forced his cock to ram up against that sweet spongey spot that damn near made your vision go black. "Fuck, right there baby, right fucking there, don't stop"

Your screeching did nothing but spur him on more, his hips drilling into you harder with each deep stroke. His girth was filling you up more satisfyingly than any toy you've played with.

This wasn't normal Aoi behavior either. Normally he was gentle and patient, but sometimes, if he was pent up enough, you would end up like this. Face down ass up, and letting him take you for whatever he wanted.

His right hand rose into the air and came crashing down on your ass check, jiggling the soft flesh and leaving a pleasant sting where it had made contact.

"Tha's it baby girl, such a good slut f'me, taking my cock so well, without any prep too. I'll be sure to give you a nice big reward after this" He uttered out, in between thrusts. Chasing his own release as well as yours becoming his next goal.

His thrusts were sporadic and rough as he gripped the flesh of your waist tighter, bringing your ass back to meet the slap of his thighs.

"Aoi, m'gunna cum, keep going, keep going.." He was knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Your mouth just repeating those words like it's your own personal mantra.

"Oh yeah? Make a mess for me baby" His voice deepened slightly, a trait you had come to love, and you could tell he was close to his orgasm.

"fffuuck, Yesss" sheer bliss consumed your body, and the pounding of his cock never ceased as waves of pleasure rolled over your body. Aoi's hand came down to rub quick back and forth motions on your swollen, puffy clit, sending you deeper into your release, as a clear, sticky liquid gushed out of your cunt. This pushed him into the throws of his own release.

Thick, hot spurts of cum roped into your pussy as his thrusting slowed to a stop. Heavy breathing was all that you could hear before he slowly pulled his softening dick out of your abused hole.

Aoi flipped you over onto the dryest part of the couch and walked out of the room to the kitchen. He returned with a glass of ice water and a warm towel.

Getting on his knees in front of you he carefully wiped the remnants of your spend off of your thighs, and legs before softly dabbing your aching pussy.

"Thank you Aoi" Even though your head was cloudy and you could barley form a thought, your first instinct was to thank him.

"Hell'r you thanking me for, jus' doin' ma job" He replied, clapping his hands softly to replace one of the ice cubes in ur drink for a straw, knowing you can't bring yourself to lift the cup for that long.

"Did I... Did I take it too far?" He asked, not realy knowing if he wanted to know the answer.

"Of course not baby, that was amazing" You smiled softly as u spoke.

"Oh okay, good.. But you know what that means, right, baby?"

"What?"

"Means I'm not finished with you" He smirked.

And that's a wrap for my first post‼️‼️hope y'all had fun reading bc I had fun writing😋

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iwaasfairy · 8 months

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┌─ “ ! „ MAGNESIUM

tw. noncon, blood, branding/marking, some pretty egregious dirty talk and degradation, threats, mirror sex, horror elements, knife play, manipulation, murder, little bit of gore, there be a dead body in here somewhere wordcount. 6.3k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely lovely person whomst im so grateful for ♡ i reallyyy liked writing sakusa a lot so i hope you like it and it is what you hAd IN MINDDD!! this was such a fun commission thank yoUU a ton seriously! mwUah ♡♡♡ i hopeee you enjoy!!! kiSsES once again a million million kisses to everyone who helped read through it when i was struggling you're the bestest ilY

sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader

It’s almost impossible to believe that everything led up to - this. You’re slumped against the car door in the back, and though you’re not knocked out, you sort of wish you were. Instead you have to feel the hard glare Kiyoomi sends you through the rear view mirror each time his eyes flick up as he reverses out of the street. There’s tension so thick that you can’t just cut it, but it’s troubling the air between you two like polluted water. Silence drags on until you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm up.

“Where are we going?” You whisper.

The man in front smoothly turns the corner, as an almost impalpable furrow moves his brow. It takes him too long to answer for your liking, as you shuffle in the leather seat, unable to get comfortable. “I don’t like fighting with you, but you always push me.” The dry tone and answer says everything his eyes can’t. “Tonight pissed me off, you know? I’m not ever gonna let you go.”

“All this because Atsumu complimented me?” You try, and when that doesn’t get a reaction - not even a blink, your hands clamp together. “He’s like that to everyone. He was calling Hinata ‘real handsome’ all evening.” Nothing. The Kiyoomi you fell in love with was a bit sarcastic and clumsy in his words, but he wasn’t ever cruel. Wasn’t ever purposefully standoffish. What seems left of him is only the brittle, icy void. You would’ve been better off breaking up days ago.

He also would’ve given the blond the benefit of the doubt.

You can basically feel the smile shine off of your face closing the billowing curtains against the golden light, looking back at the dark-haired beauty splayed out over your bed. You clear your voice. “So what’s the deal with your teammate- that Miya guy?” Kiyoomi’s brow raises a few millimeters. “He’s serious? He’s really like that all the time?”

“The whole flirtatious act?” Your boyfriend yawns into the question, before rolling over so that his muscular shoulders, pecks, and that pretty waist are even more distracting. It’s infuriating how good he looks. But you nod, and place yourself down on the edge - where he trails a lazy hand over the back of your hand. “Oh, yeah. He has this overflowing… charisma that you can’t help but get used to, and learn to appreciate.” He chuckles when you frown. “He drives me up the wall. But he’s a good guy.”

“Hmm?” Your pout is instantly enough to have him reaching around to pull you down onto him. “You’re not worried?”

You try to blink away tears, and stare out the window instead, at every light that flashes past. More to yourself than to him, you hiccup as you brush away the wobbly lines of heat down your cheeks. “You’ve been acting so— different.” He barely glances before turning too comfortably at the next lights, speeding up enough to make your chest feel tight. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I want you to go back to how you were.” That’s the only way you can put it. It’s like there’s nothing left.

Kiyoomi’s mouth corners drop at your confession, but he doesn’t speak. You’re not sure you want him to anyway. His free hand runs through his brushed back hair, long fingers sitting still against the steering wheel when they land. And they don’t move again as you sit in the quiet cold.

“Worried?” He repeats, calm expression changing into a grin. “Please, Miya fucking wishes.” You laugh when his lips start dragging down your pulse and he softly moans against you. “You’ve got way better taste than that. In neighbors - and,” his kisses get a little more hot and needy when his large hands glide down your body to grab your ass and pull you closer, “in boyfriends- and in perfume— you smell sexy, ‘s that new?”

You giggle harder, can’t help but get flustered when he gets so touchy. “I’ll get an inflated ego if you compliment me so much.” He shrugs, and positions you better onto his broad chest. But still. “How don’t you get jealous? I’m pretty sure I would if the roles were reversed.” His dark hair is splayed out over the pillow when he drops his head back, and those pretty eyes flick over your face for a second, thinking.

“I do,” he eventually breathes, “but not because of you, and definitely not with Miya Atsumu.” When you start giggling again, he frowns. “I mean, truly- genuinely-” You snort, and he stares at you with an affronted look. “If you wanna run into the egotistical, bombastic, borderline- pathetic sunset with that guy, I might have to take a long, hard look at myself. Wonder what horrible traits you’re dating me for.” His eyes fall back to you when you take a deep breath, and he goes a little bit softer as you nuzzle up under his chin. “You wanna leave me for a shitty dye job?”

“I don’t think so,” you whisper back. He looks much too at ease in the comfort of your now shared apartment.

The silence that once felt so comfortable, now squeezes the life out of you with all it’s got. Only after a few minutes, Kiyoomi’s voice reaches out, and the shiver down your neck seems to screw the icy collar down tighter.

“Y’know, I hate how that Miya looks at you. Makes me want to carve his fucking eyes out.”

About a week into living in Tokyo, you decide it’s not all that bad. Hauling along the giant box of fresh veggies and two more bags of groceries, you can barely look over enough to watch the elevator open, and hasten your steps. “Hold the door, please! There’s no way I’m doing the stairs today,” you sigh, and watch as the doors ping. You slide in just in time, and a deep chuckle follows when your arms start slowly folding with the weight.

“That’s … some collection you’ve got there,” the deep voice continues, “did I miss the call on doomsday?”

You manage to turn yourself enough to see the pair of warm, obsidian eyes staring down at you - soft curly hair freshly wet from a shower. The eggplants and pumpkins in your box start rolling toward the edge, so you shift the box onto your side with a struggling smile. “No, I- I like to buy in big batches and pre-chop everything to freeze. I don’t really love cooking so… that way I save- some time while still…” You fall quiet when he keeps your gaze without any reaction, and clear your voice. Most of his face is kept behind a black surgical mask, hiding what you imagine to be the rest of a handsome face.

But no one likes being stuck in unwanted small talk, do they. He nods though, right as you arrive on your floor and the doors slide open. “That’s smart. I’ll have to try that sometime.” The box starts slipping further. The noiret’s eyes go from your face to your white-knuckled grip, and then back. “Would you like some help with that?”

“Please,” you can’t say quickly enough, afraid that one wrong move will send the entire box rolling across the floor. It’s not like you to admit defeat so easily, but currently your pride could cost you a hundred on fresh produce, and— he doesn’t seem like the type to ask if he’d mind. Your neighbor doesn’t say anything, but his eyes crinkle a little with a smile. Aside from some very brief passings in the hallway, you haven’t had the chance to meet any of your building’s occupants yet. He doesn’t bat an eye when lifting the very heavy box out of your arms, and you fluster. “Sorry for the hassle.”

“No, it’s alright. I have the afternoon off - ‘s nothing. You’re the new 3B tennant, right?” He frees one hand just to slide his mask down when you nod your face towards your door. He’s probably the prettiest guy you’ve seen to date, strong jawline, full lips and an almost perfectly straight nose; dark curls framing smart, observant eyes. So not only is he tall and charming, he’s also hot. When you mumble a soft acknowledgement, he gives you a little smile, and you can’t help but feel a bit too seen. “I’m Kiyoomi.”

You think you like Kiyoomi.

The heat of hands shakes you out of sleep with a slight startle, and the surprise soon makes way for a wave of rolling pleasure mixed under a heavy layer of embarrassment - at the way Kiyoomi’s toying with your body like it’s his own, and the low chuckle he lets out when you let out a pinched whimper. One of his hands is two fingers deep inside your pussy by the time you can even blink the sleep out of your eyes, feeling the warmth flood onto your face. As slick gathers between your thighs, he pushes himself up above you, and squeezes your throat between his free fingers.

“Sorry for waking you up, baby.” There’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you can’t miss even with the low light, deep from within. His hand slides down the curve of your spine to settle around your hip, pressing you further into bed as your back arches when he curls his fingers without any mercy. Though you are leaving wetness all over his hand, the sudden invasion is still a little jarring, definitely when he starts sucking at your tits and bites down. “Omi, ow,” you breathe, and he only grunts as he nudges a thigh between your knees, spreading you apart. “Right now?”

“Shhh, just bear it for a bit,” he mumbles back, as his hand trails down your ribcage and forces your body to adjust to him when he hikes your leg over his shoulder. “Woke up so hard thinking of you, and- you were so cute just sleeping here next to me without a worry in the world.” His fingers are replaced quickly by the hot head of his cock, that is slid a few inches too deep right away, and your whimpering only drives him further. “Ah, fuck, there it is. Good- fucking- girl…” By the time he bottoms out there’s silvery slivers running down your face and you’re shaking your head as the ache has you moaning with pain.

But the dark haired man above you barely gives you any time to adjust, before he starts rocking himself against your center and rubbing himself deep enough to force your mouth shut. “You trust me, don’t you, angel?” He pants, stroking the inside of your thigh a few times, before starting a punishing rhythm that rocks the bed hard. The question takes you off guard, but it doesn’t seem like Kiyoomi needs an answer to keep going anyway, and you swallow down your whimper to hide your face in the pillow. He’s so big and rough and your body can’t keep up. “Oh, your pussy’s so fucking good. So tight and- warm, agh, fuck.”

Jutting out your lip into a little pout, you let out a little noise. You’re trying not to let the way he’s basically getting himself off inside you ruin your mood. After a moment, you blink up at him with wobbly vision. “Can you kiss me?” He takes a few seconds before the words register, fucking you harder each time he bottoms out— before his dark eyes go from your eyes to your lips like he’s having to debate it. And that hurts. He decides maybe against better judgment to lean in anyway, and presses his lips to yours with a low sigh, an almost moan that you suppose you have to be content with.

He pushes your knee up to your chest as he gets closer, and the heavy pressure of his body on yours gets even more unbearable when his free hand wraps around your neck and presses until you’re gasping out. Your boyfriend’s eyes glint as they flick all over your face, and a small grin starts to travel up his lips. “Don’t you like me better like this?” You’re too distracted by the pounding in your head to answer, and whine out his name as your back arches off the bed. And Kiyoomi pants as he forces you to take each thrust. “I like you a lot. Wanna keep you.” You throw your head back, and reach around his wide shoulders to pull him even closer, trying to lock your legs around his waist with a sigh.

“Shit, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he pants into your mouth as he rocks himself into you, forehead to forehead as your nails dig into his skin. You feel bad, but you can’t help but pull him closer by his shoulders as the shower water trickles between you two and makes the entire room a steamy mix of pants and sweaty touches. “So-” he kisses messily, making you smile as his tongue swipes yours, “-damn pretty. I love your body so much.”

“And me?” You breathe back, letting your body tremble in his strong hands as he rocks himself so deep inside you that it’s making you breathless. Your little whine makes him stare, and nod.

“Of course I love you even more— don’t be silly- agh, fuck.” You move one hand to brush the wet tresses of hair out of his face and let yourself get moved up and down him, thighs wrapped ever so tight around his narrow waist. He breathes your name like the word itself is lovely, and you can’t help but moan a long whimper of his name when he hits the right spot so perfectly. “You feel so good, taking my cock right in there- that tight, little pussy. Drooling all over me, huh.” Another kiss as you swallow your mix of spit and rest your hand on his cheek. “You drive me crazy. I really- ugh- really love you, baby.”

Your tits brush up against his chest. “Promise?”

“Uhuh, mh-ahg. Promise. I can’t get enough of you.”

Sometimes you swear you can hear the house close in around you with heavy breaths.

The door to your apartment already hangs open when you notice the noise. The low thumping that is only audible when you slide the headphones off, a vaguely rhythmic noise that makes the hairs on your neck stand. You slide off the bed with a little frown, and smooth the wrinkles in your camisole as you peer into the open apartment area - which is empty. “Babe?” The door wobbles when the wind passes through, and your frown only digs deeper into your face when there’s no answer.

“Kiyoomi?”

The noise is louder when you walk towards the hall, and fist your hands into the bottom of the flimsy dress to pull it down. Only after a few moments of thought, your instinct drives you across the hall to pull open the door of the neighbors’, a young guy who moved in after you two did. Sure enough, your stomach drops as the scene splays out before you. There’s red all over the floor, Kiyoomi’s hands, and most horrifying - all over Ryouta’s nose and mouth as the barrage of fists lands over and over again— and you let out a horrified gasp. The damage has already been done, the brunet lays back with swollen eyes and is no longer fighting back, and you’re basically stunned in place as his knuckles crack on his cheek again.

When you manage the next breath, you force out a call of his name between tears. “Hck- Kiyoomi- w-what are you-,” your voice sounds too tiny to be your own, but any more volume doesn’t make it out of your throat, “please stop.” The last crack that resounds before he stops is even harder than any of the ones before— and he gets up without a word, smoothing his jersey back in place. He only quiets a moment, before turning over his shoulder to look at you. You, wobbling toward him like a baby deer.

Honestly, you don’t want to worry about him. But you can’t help but take his hands in yours to inspect the split knuckles, bloody and bruised— as if this is some bizarre dream. Kiyoomi’s precious about his hands. They’re his dreams, his passions, and his opportunities all in one, something to be cared for, rested gently like they mattered more than anything else. And now they’re bloodied like animals at the slaughter. When you look up at him- there’s no regret, no worry or care or concern. Just a blank sort of faux-understanding of your worry when he reaches out to brush your cheek.

You pull back away to look instead at the young man on the floor, because if you think about it too hard, you might start sobbing. Your hands drop by your thighs and feel so heavy, tears drying on your face. “Why did you-”

“Got back from my run and he said he needed your help.” There’s a cold, detached resolution in his voice. “And I told him to forget it, and then he asked me what ‘the fuck’ my problem was.” You find yourself shrinking into yourself when his dark eyes shift to you, with that unreadable look in his eye once more. His hands are slid into his pant pockets with a soft sigh, but he still raises an eyebrow your way. “Why would another guy need my girl?” Ryouta’s been nothing but nice to you since he moved in. You believed, maybe mistakenly, that that niceness had extended to your boyfriend.

But staring at the poor, battered face of the guy on the floor— something tells you that even if it did, Kiyoomi no longer cares. It feels like really, he’ll take any excuse to lash out. Your eyes flick over his face again, before swallowing. “I don’t know. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.” For the first time since you’ve noticed this new side to him, you’re truly scared when he eyes you down. You’ve been upset, and worried, and angry before - but this is new. As the only sound between you two is the shallow rise and fall of your chest, you try to walk up and wrap your arms around his bicep. “I love you, Kiyoomi. I have only ever… loved you.”

He frees a hand to run it over your hair, before leaning down to rest his nose at your crown. “I know you do. You’re a smart little thing, that’s why I like you.” His training jacket still smells like mint and eucalyptus wash sheets, and it does absolutely nothing to soothe the aching pressure that makes its way between your ears and squeezes. And the soft kiss to your forehead doesn’t, either. “Get back inside. I’ll be right there in a bit.”

Your apartment is barely a shell of itself now. You realize it -truly realize it- when you toss and turn in your bed and can’t help but get stuck on little things that shouldn’t matter, but they do. The sheets are different, silkier somehow. Kiyoomi got new toothbrushes instead of the old ones with dolphins, and your entire apartment smells just different enough to make it pressing. Slightly bleachy, and too hospital-like. A blue haze is cast through the window by the moon when you softly slip out of bed, ignoring the way a soft puff comes from your boyfriend. He doesn’t stir as you move, though his empty hand seems to reach for the heat you left. Normally you’d wonder if he misses you when you go, but instead the reach just feels possessive.

It’s like living with a brand new boyfriend all over again.

You don’t like it as much the second time, you realize, trying to choke down the bad air you’re breathing. As you wobble around in the dark, it’s hard to find your footing. The door clicks too loud for your liking when you brush it closed behind you, and slide down onto the couch as your eyes adjust to the dark. You feel like you’re hanging off the edge of falling apart as you look around the room— and try to think. That night when he came home, when he stared off into space and wouldn’t talk to you, your first thought was of another woman. Kiyoomi had never given you any reason to doubt.

He was handsome and intelligent and you were lucky to have him, but he always made it easy to trust him. If he wanted to be with you he’d be with you.

But as more and more days passed, small things got bigger. Not letting you call friends, not letting you dress how you wanted to, glaring at anyone who so much as looked up at you on the street. He’d never been so possessive when things were good. Still, you don’t want to mourn a relationship that isn’t even over yet. You cover your sniffles into your hand, and get up from the couch to go search through his jacket for his phone, or wallet. A stray bobby pin or earring, anything to make sense of the mess inside your head. You wouldn’t be proud of this in the morning - but your brain is eating itself alive. The apartment’s so quiet at night, and the old building pants and moans in the darkness.

The small closet is hotter than the rest of the apartment, more damp too. The jackets are piled high on the dryer, and though you shove your hand down every pocket, your search turns up empty. After a few seconds of turning the last pair of pockets inside out, you sink down into a crouch— and take a deep breath. Just a few weeks ago, you’d thought that you could see yourself marrying Kiyoomi. You’d spent hours by his side, convinced that no one in the world knew you better than he did.

A soft whistling noise sounds from behind the dryer, and makes you wipe your hand under your nose. There’s an old door to a bricked up stairway here, that you never got any use out of. Kiyoomi once stored some brooms there, you think. You don’t know what possesses you to slide your hands into the narrow space between the dryer and the wall and pull, but with some force- it moves. You strain to drag it aside until you jerk, scrambling up.

A track of blood.

Smeared over your normally proper linoleum, there’s a dried off-maroon that can only be blood, crusted onto the wood as a dark patch between the dryer and the door. Your chest caves. Instead of normal breaths, shallow gasps start making your entire body go solid and cold, and your throat dries up. This can’t … it isn’t real. Can’t be. Everything inside you tries to convince you that this is just a nightmare, but even as you pinch your arm hard, nothing happens.

Blood rushes to your bruised knees as you look around, trying not to panic too hard— instead put a shaky hand on the handle. It could be rusty water. A busted pipe. As you move at a glacial pace to open the door, it creaks, and you lick your lips. You can’t cry. You want nothing more than to explode into a dam of tears and unload, but it’s like your body refuses. Every second makes your body pump with adrenaline, until the door clicks open and reveals the narrow space - and in it, something that doesn’t make sense.

Blood pools on the floor, dulled, matted and a disgusting, sticky mess that has you gasping; only to hold back a gag. But in it, sits the slumped, unmoving body of your boyfriend.

The same boyfriend you were sleeping next to just a few minutes ago.

Every hair on your body rises when you choke on the smell, and sink down to press your fingers to his pulse— even when the off white pallor of his face says everything it should. “Omi?” You whisper, and when you breathe out, your throat closes up. You want to wake up. Your first coherent thought is that you can’t breathe; the next, to run. There’s no more heat in his skin, icy to the touch, and it frightens you so much that you jerk back and slam the door to the closet, stopping abruptly between the couch and the door.

It’s when the lights flick on that you do regret that.

Kiyoomi’s voice sounds deeper when you turn. As he stares at you, he brushes his messy curls out of his face. “What are you doing?” You don’t speak. Nothing but a shallow hiccup makes it out of your mouth, but you’re still holding out your hands like they’ve been burned, and maybe that’s enough for him to slide his eyes over to the closet. For a moment it stays quiet. So quiet that you can hear the blood rush beneath your skin, pumping with adrenaline you have no room for. Kiyoomi’s dead. Your Kiyoomi’s dead, isn’t he. “Ah.”

“I- I-”

“You weren’t supposed to go snooping, angel. You’re really making things difficult.” The noiret’s quiet calmness makes way for a slight smile, before he steps out of the doorway towards you. And you flatten yourself to the wall on shaky legs, but moving any more than that feels impossible. You’ve never been so scared in your life— literally frozen solid to the wall as your panicked hiccups send tears welling up in thick, childish bubbles that refuse to tip. He gives you an up and down, before pointing at you as he walks over to the closet, and sighs. “Don’t move.”

You couldn’t, even if you had the courage to. And you very much don’t. It’s so cold— you watch as he pushes into the small room only to drag the body you’d left there out of it. The heavy scraping noise of a limp body across the floor is almost enough to have you totally break. When he dumps the body in the middle of your shared living room, you manage to let out a few noises, strangled, pathetic noises, before you wring your hands together. “W-what did you do to Kiyoomi?”

“I am Kiyoomi,” he says back with enough certainty to shake you, and then smiles a little when finally the tears spill, and you shake your head left and right through your panic.

“You’re not—” is all you can squeak before he walks up to you too close and grabs your face, leaving sticky cold blood with his touch. Your cheek is almost held lovingly, but one glance up at his eyes convinces you that it’s anything but. It’s predatory, a mean glitter of amusement that plays in the darkness, and the harder you cry, the giddier it seems to get. “Let me go, p-please,” you sniffle, “let me go. I won’t tell, I just don’t wanna be- h-here.”

“Shhh, we might as well pretend I’m him still. You look so cute whining that name like it’s your fucking job.” He takes you by the hand after pressing a brief kiss on your forehead, and then sits you down onto the couch. And your chest still feels much too rattled to think about running anywhere, but when he pushes one finger into your mouth with a slight grin, you consider it. “Don’t know any better, do you?” He groans. You want to bite and run, and hide until everything stops pounding— but run where? Your boyfriend’s cold on the floor of your apartment. You can barely stop crying for long enough to take a breath, and the man above you pushes another finger down your throat. “Such a pretty little girlfriend I’ve got- look here-”

You do - can’t help it when the pressure starts choking you, and whatever frightened look you’re giving him, is enough to make him groan long and hard. It fucks with your brain. It’s still your boyfriend- looks, smells, tastes the same- and if you stop paying attention for a few seconds, it’s almost like everything is back to normal. It’s almost like you’re safe as long as you pretend not to notice what’s going on around just you and the invasive touches that are forced onto you. “Man, you look so fucking wrecked, baby. Say my name, won’t you?” His grin is wide and cheshire-like when he leans in and starts nudging your top down your shoulders. “Say ‘please, Kiyoomi’.”

He doesn’t move his fingers out of the way to allow you. Instead you whimper around his fingers, and try not to choke as spit gets all over your chin and his hand. “Pwea-se, Kiy-oomi.”

“Hahah, you’re so fucking nasty, getting spit all over me. Drooling like a fucking dog while you’re being forced— You like whining and moaning for me?” He takes his fingers out to wipe them on your flimsy camisole and stands to start sliding down his boxers, pushing you back towards the couch. The small grin changes to a tight grimace when you try to grab at him for comfort. “Ah ah ah, don’t think so.” There’s a fistful of hair in his hand before you can apologize, as he shoves you face down towards the couch and holds you there, cheek pressed to the rough fabric. Until your face is hung just off the side, and you’re forced to face the trail of blood that ends in a familiar face.

It’s horrible, and the harder you squeeze your eyes shut against the wave of fresh tears, the deeper the image seems to force itself into your brain. “Kiyoomi~” You whimper pathetically, and he hums in response. Everything’s too close, too loud, his touch is too real and too pressing and warm— burning you from the inside out as he yanks your clothing the last bit down until it hangs around your waist and he drags his fingers up and down your slit through your panties a few times. It leaves the wet fabric awfully sticky against your pussy, and your cheeks get hotter. It’s not your fault, his fingers work you in ways that always work. That thought has your eyes flicking open, but the horrific sight has yet to disappear. “Mh-hck,” you start up again, and try to roll aside as he grabs your thigh hard to hold you in place. “I wanna stop. I wanna stop.”

“Aw, poor baby. Poor angel.” The dismissive tone is cooed as a loving mockery when he pushes you down between your shoulder blades and yanks your panties the rest of the way down. “You don’t even know what to do with yourself, huh?” He then yanks your head up so you’re forced to stare at your reflection in the window, unable to see anything else. You can’t close your eyes to hide from it. Kiyoomi’s grabbing you tight enough to have you unable to move. “I’ll give you a hint. You lay here and you take it. You just listen nice and sweet, ugh-” He groans low when pushing the hot head of his cock against your entrance, patting it with a patient sigh— only to push in with a force that makes you jerk.

Why does it hurt so much? You wanna cry harder when he forces all the heavy girth of his cock inside you and the wetness dripping between your legs squelches loud, but your throat’s too clogged to. Instead only a pinched moan comes out, and he grunts when bottoming out deep inside you. “Girls who don’t listen make me wanna cut them open and eat their insides out. Would you like that?” The pull on your hair forcing your head up is making you lightheaded. That, and the stinging, uncomfortable tightness inside your pussy, squeezing and clenching against the intrusion - still isn’t enough to drown out the horror of those words as he whispers them.

Almost instantly you shake your head left and right, and your muffled ‘no’s melt into a childish cry. “No, nonono, Omi- ‘yoomi- I, no~ pleas-hck- stop. Wanna stop.” He pulls back his hips for long enough to really let you feel the ache of your walls as they cling to his cock, but then thrusts back in and bounces you on his cock. He drops your head back to the side of the couch, and places a hand in the middle of your spine to anchor you down under his weight.

“You don’t? I think you’re lying. You want to be treated like a sack of meat.” His hips make a loud sound when connecting with your ass. “You don’t like this?”

“Ow, oww, Omi- ‘hurts-” You’re fighting against the caving of your chest each time you exhale, and forced to take shorter breaths each time he fucks back into you. “Ah, ow.” And your pussy hurts, but the rolling of his hips and the stubborn, deep grinding is too overwhelming. You hate that you can hear the wetness of your cunt squeezing around the pumping of him inside, you hate the way he breathes above you, how you can feel him everywhere. It makes you sick. It’s all too much, and still it feels so fucking good that you’re hot in the face. “Mhm~ ‘m sorry. I’m sorry.” You blink through the tears to stare just a second at the trail of blood that he made from the closet to the couch— but you can’t make yourself look any closer. Instead you aim your eyes back at your reflection, and meet other eyes.

“You haven’t wanted to play with me much since I got here. ‘S your own fault that I’m all pent up now, stupid girl.” The steady rhythm in and out of your needy pussy is too much. It feels so good— and you hate it. You clench your hands into the couch as best you can and try to hang on, until your knuckles turn white. The noiret’s voice is back to taunt you, this time as his other hand reaches around to grab the soft of your throat and squeeze, shaking you back to him. “If you want your nice, reliable Kiyoomi, look- he’s right here for you.” You can’t. You can’t. Your tears well over in ugly rivers that you shut behind your lids, and Kiyoomi makes a noise.

You can’t tell if it’s a pleased noise or not, you don’t care. He rolls his hips, and your cunny accepts too eagerly. But it still feels so fucking good. And you can’t stop yourself from feeling like the worst person in the world. Your hands shake, and your head feels faint. Kiyoomi’s dead. There’s nothing else to know. Kiyoomi’s dead and you’re about to cum getting fucked— your whimper gives you away. It’s faint, but he hears it. “Hm, you don’t like him either now huh?” Instead of squeezing your throat, his hand moves to grab your tit instead, pinching your puffy nipple until you can’t help but make a noise. You’re so gross. And your pussy’s still pulling him back in, clenching to the pulsing heat as it fucks right into the softest part of your walls. “I- agh, f- I like bullying my pretty little cock sleeve to tears. So- f-fucking cute like this.”

He ruts into you until your belly feels hot and tingly, and you grind back against him on instinct. You’re getting so close, the pinching, the precise way he hits the needy spot deep inside you - you don’t even want to. “No, no- Omi, I’m- agh, please stop.” You really don’t. “I’m- I’m gonna—” But before you can stop it, your eyes squeeze shut, and your entire body goes tense. The tight ball of heat that’s been expanding all over your body with each pump, each time his heavy balls slap against you, explodes into a million pieces. “Kiyoomi, I love you, I’m so- sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s— all my fault.”

As he fucks you through the blooming heat and the white and black spots that play on your lids, he groans your name low and possessive. Your clenching only slows way after you’ve grinded yourself back against him and drooled all over the couch, until your tired body drops back into the plush. And Kiyoomi lets out a little chuckle. “Yea, it’s all your fault, stupid girl. You lay here and stay— I’ll be right back.” You barely feel the heat leave until it comes back, shoving some of the wetness from your sensitive pussy right back inside with a grunt, and a harsh tap of his hand to your pussy. The sting is sharp, and you glare through your tears as you look up. Not that he cares. “Here. Look. Kiss it.”

The sharp blade that’s basically shoved in your face glints when you hesitate, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth. “Come on. Or else I’ll put it to use on him instead, and you don’t want that, do you?” Your lips press against the cold metal, but your eyes stay resolutely on his face. Dark curls framing dark eyes and long lashes — you often told him he was the most beautiful man you knew. You wonder if he remembered it in the end. You suppose it doesn’t matter though, watching his mirror click his tongue.

“Good girl, such a good baby girl under all the crying and mess, aren’t you? Almost make me think you like me better like this after all.” You can’t answer, but the tears that wobble sadly along your waterline spill over in the silence— and your lip wobbles. And Kiyoomi only brushes a thumb along your lip, before shrugging. “No? That’s a shame. Because you are mine now. Mine. All of you.” He points the knife into the top of your leg, and leaves behind a mark that immediately wells up with dotted red. The immediate pain and sting of hot blood sears through your skin. “Tell me again what name you want me to write? Say it nice and sweet, angel.”

Your voice doesn’t shake as much as you think it should. “Kiyoomi.”

#sakusa x reader #sakusa smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq!! smut #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #tw.noncon #tw.degradation #tw.blood #tw.branding #tw.horror #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.sakusa

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