hqintheclub - Tumblr blog

hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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Repentance

your mother has always told you to be wary of the woods. girls get lost in there, only to wind up dead, their bodies and faces twisted in pleasure and agony. you've followed that rule diligently your entire life—only to find that belief shaken when a beautiful demon appears on your doorstep in need of your help.

pairing: demon!tetsurou kuroo x fem!reader, 8.4k, nsfw/dc so minors begone

warnings: monsterfucking, biting, slight blood play, tailfucking, multiple orgasms, pussy slaps, male masturbation, breeding kink, creampie, baby degradation (no namecalling), reader is a virgin but it's not central to the plot

notes: a sister piece to the osamu fic deliverance. part of asellus' 2022 follower's event. requested, betaed, and nearly brought to life thanks to @anime-nymph <3 <3 i actually really love this fic so i hope you do too

The woods are a dangerous place.

It’s what you’ve heard your entire life, what you’ve grown up dreading every time night falls. Demons lurk in those woods, luring innocent women into their clutches to bewitch them and feast on their bodies and souls. It’s not safe for people like you, who lives on the edge of the forest, the most susceptible to fall for the demon’s wicked tricks. You don’t remember when your mother started boarding the windows, but it continued for decades: every night, she would tell you the horrors of the forest, of the girls lost to sin incarnate, of their bloody and deceased bodies found as soon as the sun peaked above the horizon.

“Don’t you look them in the eyes,” your mother would practically chant as she fixed the thick plank over the windows so no one could come in or out until sunrise. “You will be gone the moment you do.”

You had seen the evidence for yourself so you knew it to be true. Aki, Haruka, Rumi. Girls you knew from around town, girls you had seen at church, girls you considered acquaintances. It didn’t matter who it was—their bodies would appear on the edge of the forest, limbs twisted in pain while their faces were twisted in pleasure. The demon hunters tried their best, but the bodies remained and you knew it was only a matter of time before you were taken next. Your house was on the edge of the forest after all, a cozy little cottage that you lived in with your single mother after your father left early in her pregnancy.

She passed away just after you came of age, leaving you to take up a job as a seamstress to keep afloat. Every night you walked home after dark, hurrying into your cottage so you could keep the same routine: shutting the door, boarding the windows, and saying a prayer to keep you safe until dawn. It was the same for years, a routine you never once deviated from so that you could uphold your last promise to your mother. To live.

Tonight the moon hangs high in the sky, thick clouds covering the path back to your house. There’s a chill in the air that wasn’t there when you went to work, and you curl into yourself as you hurry back. Sometimes the silence in the town gives you comfort and allows you a small bit of peace after a busy day; tonight it feels like an omen, clinging to you like a shadow that wormed its way underneath your skin.

It’s dark when you make it home, so dark that you almost don’t see it. A dark shadow crouched over near the edge of the forest, the hiss of a man in pain. You stop, staring at the black mass as it moves, a sick feeling gripping at your stomach when you see not one, but two thin tails swinging in annoyance like a cat’s. Demon. Fear grips you, keeping you rooted to the ground as the demon sits hunched over.

Then, seemingly as if he noticed your presence, a pair of dark red eyes lift and land directly on you.

Through a sliver of moonlight, you can see him more clearly. Messy black hair, sharp teeth, strong jawline above a billowed white blouse that is stained on the arm with blood. He doesn’t move as he regards you, a hand covering the wound on his arm that continuously bleeds and drips down to the grassy area he sits on. Your eyes flick over to the front door of your house. Will you be able to make it? If you do, will you be able to board the windows and doors before the demon can come to get you?

“Love,” the demon’s voice calls out. It’s oddly calming, charming, a whisper in the wind that ruffles your cloak. “I could use some help here.”

Your answer is a whimpered, “No.”

“No?” The demon laughs as he stands. In the darkness, he looks as towering as the trees, his sharp teeth almost as bright as his eyes. “I only need a needle and thread.”

“I… I can’t help a demon.” You take a smell step toward your cottage, eyes on him the entire time. He doesn’t move, even as you slowly creep forward. “Ask somebody else.”

“I might not make it to someone else,” he counters, and you jump when he turns toward you. He still hasn’t taken a step forward but you cower into yourself anyway, clutching into the ends of your cloak. “I promise I won’t do anything.”

“Demons can’t be trusted,” you spit, sounding just like your mother all those years ago.

Don’t you look them in the eyes. You had already broken her one cardinal rule. But still… he hadn’t come for you yet. He had let you slowly walk over to the wooden porch outside of your house. If he wanted, he could lure you in with his eyes and make you do his bidding anyway. The demon was bargaining with you, as if he wanted to do things your way. The human way.

Mama, this is too strange.

“Listen, love. If I don’t sew up my arm, I’m going to die on your grounds. Is that what you would like? You would have a lot of explaining to do to the church, wouldn’t you?”

“I—no!”

You watch the blood trickle down from his fingertips onto the grass, biting at your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. You shouldn’t care, not after the stories you’ve heard, not after women have disappeared into the forest and returned in death’s cold clutches from the same type of demon who stands before you. And yet this one seems… harmless. He stares at you, tilting his head to the side with a curious grin, and you have to rip your gaze away so you don’t fall further into the pools of his eyes.

“You must stay on the porch,” you insist as you turn your back on him. “You cannot come inside. I’ll bring it to you.”

“Agreed,” the demon says, but you barely hear him over the thunder of your footsteps up your stairs and into your house.

You use a match to light your fireplace to get some heat and light in your cottage before you fish around for your needle and thread. The demon keeps his word, standing outside on your porch, his red eyes shining through the window in the door as he watches you. It makes goosebumps rise on your flesh, your stomach churning as you hurry back toward him. Your mother would be so angry with you for helping a demon after her constant warnings, but you don’t want to hear the whispers of townsfolk. You already get enough of them anyway thanks to the way you were raised—“a blight against the Lord”, if you use the former priest’s words.

“Here,” you softly say as you open the door only enough to hand out the spool of thread and needle. “You can keep it, I’ll buy more.”

“No, I'll give it back.”

When his fingers brush yours, you swallow. He’s warm, hotter than the flame burning in your fireplace, and sending a tingle down your spine. You jerk your hand back, shutting the door to keep a protective barrier between the two of you. You watch through the window as he tries to thread the needle, his eyes squinting as he fails over and over again to get it in the small hole. When he eventually does, he uses his sharp teeth to tear a long piece of thread, knotting it haphazardly before he looks down at his injured arm.

You open the door again before you can think about it. “You should double the thread.”

His eyebrow arches playfully when he glances back up at you. “Sorry? Couldn’t hear you.”

“You should… double the thread. It’s too thin. Doubling would hold better and keep the stitches shut.”

“Would you like to do it for me?” The demon asks, and you shake your head adamantly. It makes him laugh. “Think about it. If you help me, I’ll leave faster. If not, I’ll be stuck on your porch all night, which I’m sure you—”

“Okay!” You squeak quickly. Anything to make him go quiet and get him away from you. “Okay, hand it over.”

Your steps are tentative as you emerge from the house, and you take back the offered needle and thread, careful not to brush hands with him again. There’s blood on the top of the spool, and you ignore it as you fix the thread. The demon is compliant when you hold up the spool to his teeth to cut, and soon there’s a red-colored makeshift way to stitch his skin in your hand.

“It might hurt,” you offer quietly, lining up the needle with the top of his wound.

“Wait.” At his request, you pause. His white teeth shine even brighter when he asks, “What’s your name?”

“Does that matter?”

“It would be nice to know who to yell at when it hurts,” he quips. When you scrunch your nose in annoyance, he laughs. “I want to know who is helping me.”

You swallow back the words that nearly slip from your lips. You won’t tell him—no, you can’t. It’s already blaspheme to be patching him up. If the demon hunter finds out you kept a demon alive, you’ll be even more ostracized than you already are. It’s not a risk you’re willing to take, especially not after helping the demon instead of leaving him to die. You lick your lips and shake your head, refusing to answer his question, but that doesn’t deter him.

“I’m Kuroo. Tetsurou Kuroo. You can call me whatever you’d like.”

“I’ll call you a demon, because that’s what you are,” you offer instead, not waiting for his rebuttal to get to work.

It feels like you’re stitching together tough material for a new dress. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you patch Kuroo up, focusing on the process instead of the person you’re helping. Kuroo doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t even make a sound as you stitch him up the best you can without other materials. You tie off the thread, keeping your eyes on the way his blood stains your fingertips so you don’t look back up into his eyes. You’ve already given him too much of your time, and your mother’s foreboding words eat at your conscience the longer you stand next to the demon.

“I’m finished, so… go.”

“I can’t even thank you?”

“I don't want a thank you,” you answer quickly, taking a step back toward your house with another shake of your head. “I want you to go away.”

There isn’t a shred of surprise on Kuroo’s face as he eyes your trembling form. “You really won’t tell me your name?”

“Good night,” you answer instead, slipping back into your house without looking at him.

You bustle around your house doing your usual nighttime routine: locking the door, barricading the windows, throwing the curtains closed to pretend you aren’t home. By the time you’re done, Kuroo no longer stands on your porch. The only thing left is slivers of moonlight that peek through the thick clouds and show the entrance to the woods. Dark. Mysterious. Inviting. You can’t stand to look at it, afraid you might be pulled into the unknown. Instead you focus on washing up and getting ready for bed so you can pretend the events of the night were just a strange dream.

But no matter how hard you scrub your fingers in the bucket of cold water in your kitchen, Kuroo’s blood lingers beneath your fingernails.

The night is warm and lively, distant calls of children playing ball behind you as you make your way home. The sun is setting over the trees, casting an orange and yellow glow around the town that makes it look like it’s on fire. Tonight is an early night, thanks to your boss’s surely needed kindness. You had taken a verbal lashing, the old woman hemming and hawing about your “sad background” as you hemed her coat. You know her well—she always sits front row in church while you linger in the back, listening to Father Osamu Miya talk about love and forgiveness. Halfway through her snide comments about your absent father and poor mother, you realized that her attentive presence is merely for show.

One of the children hollers at his friend, squealing loud enough that you turn around to check. Your boots crush the gravel beneath your feet, animals hoot and holler in the woods in front of you, and there’s a whisper of a name in the wind.

Your name.

You whip around toward your cabin but there’s no one there. Your name remains a murmur, so quiet and already long forgotten. As you take tentative steps home, you idly wonder if you were hearing things. It seems possible, seeing as how there’s no one around and the boys’ attention is on their game. You try to push it to the back of your mind, hurrying to light the fire and barricade yourself in the cabin for the night.

Just as you’re about to latch the window, you hear it again. A mumble, this time louder, more insistent, calling out to you. From the edge of the grass, with red eyes shining even brighter than the setting sun, stands Tetsurou Kuroo. It’s been three days since you’ve seen him last, but you’ll never forget how his blood stained your fingers for a whole day after you helped him.

You back up in alarm, eyes wide as the demon stalks closer without a care for boundaries or the sanctity of your safeguards.

“Will you let me in?” His question is distorted by your window, but his happy grin isn’t.

“How… how do you know my name?”

You never told him, refusing to let the demon know who you are. You had been right to do so, because when he says it again, it sounds like honey rolling off of his tongue.

“I heard your boss say it,” he offers. “I think it’s a pretty name.”

“Why are you here?” You demand next, taking a step forward. It’s only to block the window, you promise yourself, but your hand doesn’t even reach out toward the board you use to keep yourself inside at night. “Leave me alone.”

“I want to thank you for helping me. Let me take you somewhere.”

“No,” you refute immediately.

Kuroo doesn’t like that. His nose scrunches up, and then faster than you can blink, he’s up against the window, tapping on the glass with his sharp nails.

“I don’t like being in debt to others. Just for one night.” And then, contrary to everything your mother always told you about selfish and bastardly demons, Kuroo actually adds: “Please?”

A demon asking for your favor and permission? It’s unheard of, preposterous, and downright unbelievable. And yet you find yourself wavering, drawn into his eyes like a moth to the flame. Oh, how you wish your mother were here to talk some sense into you. Without her strong conviction, it isn’t another refusal that tumbles from your lips, but a quiet,

“Alright. Just for one night.”

Kuroo’s smile is almost as blinding as the moonlight that illuminates your path through the forest. It’s a clear night, letting you clearly see where the demon is taking you. You follow him for a while, keeping a safe distance behind just in case, but Kuroo does nothing. His tails swish behind him like a content cat’s, occasionally rising to push a branch out of the way so he can venture further toward the west side of the woods, closer to the neighboring town than your own.

Eventually you emerge on a cliff face with a little wooden chair on the edge. You can hear rushing water past the drop off, and you know if you look down, you’ll see the river that separates your town and the neighboring one. From here, the stars are bright and unfiltered, lighting up the sky like a beautiful painting, the moon casting a warm glow over the expansive horizon ahead of you. You can see the neighboring town completely from here—the smoking chimneys, the torchlights, the small shadows that you know are buggies and horses that roam the streets even at night.

“It’s… beautiful.”

“I know,” Kuroo grins, gesturing forward toward the chair. You take slow, tentative steps around him, eyes carefully watching his flicking tail as you take a seat. Kuroo follows, laying down next to your left side, his chin in his palm as he stares at you. “I’ve only shown three people this place.”

“Oh?” You try not to look at him, at his piercing gaze as he continues to watch your expressions. “Then why me?”

“A beautiful act deserves a beautiful reward.”

You finally turn to regard him, blinking as he rolls up the sleeve of his blouse. Your tight stitches are now gone, but a thick red scar remains, like a burn on his arm that looks unnatural against his tanned skin.

“You shouldn’t have taken them out yet!” You scold, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. “Now it won’t—”

“It never will.” His tone is icier than his usual jovial and playful quips. Kuroo rolls down his sleeve to hide the scar as he scowls. “It was from the demon hunter’s iron blade. No matter how fast I can heal myself, this will never go away.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Your lips open and close so many times that you’re sure you look like a fish out of water. You should agree with the demon hunter—everything you know about them means they’re dangerous and conniving, willing to say anything to get their claws in you. Yet Kuroo has the same sharp claws and not once has he touched you. Not once has he tried to reach into your chest and rip out your heart, just like your mother said the demons would. Pain throbs at your temples when you think about it, so you decide to pivot to something else.

“The demon hunter. She’s getting married.”

Kuroo pauses, a strange smile on his face. “To whom?”

“Father Osamu Miya. It was announced this morning at the church service.”

The demon’s cackle is so loud that it echoes over the cliff face and even scares a few owls that linger in the trees behind you. You jump in surprise, but he doesn’t stop laughing, his tails slapping the rock underneath his body, pebbles bouncing with every slam.

“I thought I had problems,” Kuroo says when he finally calms down. “But that girl is far worse off than me.”

“What do you mean?”

Kuroo doesn’t answer. He only smiles that charming smile as he stares at you, like he’s trying to make you figure it out on your own, as if that is one secret he will take with him when he leaves. You look away, back to the town in front of you as you think about what to say. Silence weighs heavy, and you’re scrambling for something to talk about to fill the empty void. You tell Kuroo about the neighboring town, about your town, about your mother before she passed. It spills from your lips as easily as the river flows beneath you, and Kuroo is such a good listener that you keep talking even though your brain yells at you to be quiet.

When there’s nothing else to be said, you let the silence settle over you like a blanket, but this time it isn’t as bad. There’s a strange comfort in the rushing of the stream, in Kuroo’s soft gaze on the side of your head, in the swishes of his tail. The stars calm you, and you trace every constellation you know before making up your own to pass the time. It’s so peaceful that you feel your eyelids drooping, and you nod off once before Kuroo’s gentle voice brings you back.

“Let me take you home.”

You open your eyes to see him kneeling right beside you. You gasp, moving back slightly as you stare at him. When had he gotten so close? It gives you an opportunity to look at him more in depth. He really is beautiful, his eyes like rubies, his face angular in all the right places. You can see why people would—

No. No, you can’t think this. You need to go home and separate yourself from the demon with the captivating eyes and easy-going smiles. You follow him back to your cabin silently, and it takes so much less time to get back than it did to get to the cliff. Soon you can see your house, fire in the fireplace still flickering through the windows, making it seem so welcoming. But for some reason you linger at the edge, standing next to Kuroo as he turns to you.

“Go on home,” Kuroo says softly, and then even quieter adds your name. You stare at him, the unspoken question of how he knew passing between you. “I heard her. The old woman from the shop earlier this morning.”

“Then you’ve been…” You can’t say it. You swallow, the words “watching me” dying on your lips.

Kuroo nods. “You intrigue me.”

“We shouldn’t…”

Your words trail off again. What is wrong with you? Why can’t you finish a single coherent thought now?

“Go home,” Kuroo urges. “I’ll see you again.”

As you exit the woods and ascend the steps of your porch, you glance back. Kuroo still watches you. His gaze stays on you until you’re back in the safety of your house, your door bolted shut. You go through the motions, barricading your windows half-heartedly as you think back to his words.

I’ll see you again.

A cold grip seizes your heart when you realize just how desperately you want that to be true.

The wind cuts into your bones as you shuffle back to your cabin, clutching your flimsy coat closer to your body. You almost never go to night service, but today was a special day—the entire community had come out to celebrate the impending wedding of the demon hunter and Pastor Osamu Miya, due to happen at the end of the week. It had been a lively event, one you had stayed to the rear of, exiting as soon as you were able to sneak off.

It felt like there were so many eyes on you, watching your every move, every conversation, every breath. Whenever you looked off to the side, there was nothing—only another group of old women gossiping about people and families in town. You knew your name would fall from their lips as soon as you slipped out the front door. It always did. It didn’t bother you anymore, but tonight it felt like their eyes were following you the entire time, their heated gazes marking you like prey.

When you finally see your house in the distance, someone stands on your porch. Kuroo. It’s been four days since you’ve seen him last, since he took you to that overlook and promised to see you again. You falter in your steps, unsure of how to approach. Your heart is racing, and a sick streak races through you at the reason why: you missed him. Missed his presence, his touch, his low voice that sends shivers down your spine.

You had prayed to the Lord for days for reprieve from your thoughts of the demon, but he came to your mind more often than you wished. When you were working and thinking about him eavesdropping like last time; when you barricaded your door and windows, wondering if he would appear and coax you out one more time; when you were alone at night, hands wandering your body, his red eyes staring you down as you came undone beneath your fingers.

And there he stands, waiting like a scorned lover, sitting on the edge of your wooden railing with a grin on his lips. You think about what to say as you come closer. Does he know how often he’s been on your mind? How you whispered his name in want of his presence? Or worse: how you wanted him to step inside your home and wrap his arms around you instead of lingering touches?

You don’t have to say anything; a cold voice from behind you does it for you.

“Don’t go to him.”

Spinning around on your heel, you come face-to-face with a boy nearly your age. You know him from church, where he bows his head next to old, whispering women. Bad seed that one. Needed a father figure in his life. No wonder he turned out so cold. According to the stories, his mother had been a single mother, just like yours, though her story had ended more tragically. You had never believed the rumors of his coldness, chalking up the town talk to old judgemental women with too much time on their hands, but his glare now is less than friendly, making you shiver into your coat.

“I’m sorry?”

“He will ruin you. Just like he ruined my—”

“Takeru.” Kuroo’s voice makes the hair on your arms stand. He stands so close to you now, body pressed up against your back, the graze of his claws running down your back as he keeps a hold on you protectively. “What do you want?”

“Hello father.”

Father? Your gasp is louder than the ringing in your ears, head swimming at the new information. Takeru is a half-demon? Is that why he’s always been shunned, only able to find solace in Father Miya’s congregation? Kuroo doesn’t say anything to the title; he only shifts you so you’re close to his side rather than his chest.

“I’ve come to warn her of your ways.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You shouldn’t be here. It’s a tense moment between family, one that burns at your chest and makes it hard to breathe. You’re only able to take one step to your left before Takeru’s eyes land on yours, and you’re able to see the flicker of dark red mixed in with his brown irises.

“He’ll use you until he grows tired of you, leaving you to deal with the—”

Kuroo’s voice is a low growl. “Enough.”

Takeru doesn’t even pause. “—consequences. You can’t trust him. As soon as he realizes you’re pregnant, you’ll be thrown any just like my mother—”

“Your mother threw herself away.” There’s a bitterness in Kuroo’s tone as he spits, “It isn’t my fault she chose to end her own life instead of—”

It happens faster than you can process it. Takeru moves; Kuroo moves; you’re flung down to the dirt ground, landing with a thud that rattles your brain and makes your cheek and lip twinge with pain. There are growls and clangs in front of you, and for a moment you’re sure it’s because of your double vision, but then your eyes focus and you realize it isn’t. The two of them move quickly—faster than your human mind can keep up—and you only see swings and turns as the two fight each other. You scoot back, something warm running down your lip as you try to scramble away from the ruckus.

It’s over as fast as it began. Kuroo grabs Takeru’s head and forces it down into the dirt, his knee in the middle of the boy’s back. There’s a cut above his eyebrow and bruises around his jaw, but Takeru looks even worse. Blood is all over his face, and he huffs for breath as he squirms to get away.

“Don’t come near her again,” Kuroo grounds out, tugging on Takeru’s matching black locks to force him to meet his eye. “Or I won’t stop, whether you’re my son or not.”

“Monster,” Takeru spits in return, full of so much acid that it cuts you down to your core. “Fine. Get off of me.”

Kuroo relents, and the half-demon stands, brushing dirt off of his clothes. He gives you one last look—fleeting and pitying—before he’s hurrying down the street back toward the town. You stare at his retreating back long enough that Kuroo has to help you to your feet, and your limbs feel like lead as the demon helps you onto your porch.

“Go inside,” he commands.

“You… He… what was that? Who was that?”

“Your lip is bleeding,” Kuroo insists, hand tightening on your upper arm. “Go inside and tend to yourself.”

“You are too,” you answer, as quiet as the forest to your right. “Let me—”

“I’m a demon.” His laugh is deep, twinged with bitterness and hollowness that you’ve never heard from him before. His red eyes gleam in the moonlight that shines high above you. “You saw what I did. What I do. Are you scared?”

“I…”

You feel like you can’t breathe, your body on fire as Kuroo takes one step, then two steps closer. Your back lightly hits your front door, the wood clanging as he sets a hand above your head to trap you beneath him. You should be scared. From the stories around town and from your mother, to the dead bodies of girls your age on the edge of the forest, to the way Kuroo lingers outside your house lately. You should be. Maybe that’s why your fingers are trembling as you reach up to grab his shirt, or maybe it’s the warmth flushing through places they shouldn’t be as his gaze drifts down to your split lip.

His free hand grabs onto your chin, forcing your eyes to lock onto his. They’re a sea of emotion, swirling and pulling you deeper and deeper until you’re leaning into his rough grip.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs before leaning in.

As soon as his tongue touches your chin, you gasp. It’s hot, like a trail of fire running up your flesh as he laps up the spilled and drying blood. It grows even worse when only one side of his tongue trails up further, running over the cut on your lip, while the other continues to feast on the blood on your chin. It’s strange, feeling two different things at once from the same body part, but it feels good. You have to bite the inside of your lip to keep from making any noise as Kuroo runs his split tongue all over your cut.

But then he’s trailing further, running both ends of his tongue along your bottom lip until your legs are trembling. Your eyes are hooded as you stare at him, and you nearly moan when his hand squeezes your chin a little bit harder, a little bit more possessive.

“Open,” he commands, and the spell he casts over you means there’s no way you’ll disobey him.

You part for him, allowing him to worm his tongue into your mouth with a low and quiet sound. Kuroo steps closer, keeping you pressed against the door while his snake-like tongue runs over yours. You follow his lead, unsure of what else to do. This is your first time ever kissing someone like this. Though you’ve heard stories from giggly women your age about their trysts with the locals, you never once believed them when they waxed poetic about how good it felt, how they melted underneath light touches and skilled mouths. But that’s exactly what you’re doing now, having to cling to Kuroo’s shirt to stay standing as he keeps command over your mouth, tasting faintly like iron.

“Go inside,” he rumbles again between little bites to your lips and swirls of his tongue.

“Come with me,” you’re pleading before you can stop yourself, before your mother’s voice rings in your head, shrill and angry: Deceitful child, how could you?

“That’s dangerous,” Kuroo chides, but he follows you, pressed tightly against your body as you fumble to open the door, to let in the one thing you’ve been trying to keep out for decades.

The cabin is cold thanks to the lack of fire, sending a chill running down your spine. You almost pull away and tell Kuroo to wait, but then his eyes flash toward your fireplace and a fire roars to life. Your surprised gasp is swallowed by his mouth again, his sharp teeth running over your lips until there’s pinprick pain radiating from your flesh. He soothes it over with his tongue, healing you only to do it again, making your lips swell and tingle with his work. You can taste the blood on his lips but you don’t care, not when your legs hit the back of your bed and you tumble on top of the sheets.

Your eyes are dazed as you stare up at him, your skirts pooling around your upper thighs as he slips a knee between your legs. It’s sinful how he presses up against your underwear, how he leans down on one arm to regard you. His sharp fingernails trail over and pop the buttons at the top of your dress. One, two, three—until your chest is exposed to his slanted and darkening eyes.

“I’m the first,” he states matter-of-factly, like it’s a point of pride for him, like being the first person to ever touch you or even see you like this fills him with smug satisfaction. “Were you waiting to be ruined?”

Ruined. That’s what Takeru said, wasn’t it? It makes your body go rigid, makes you freeze even as his warm fingers ghost over your nipples. Kuroo is fast to understand when you don’t respond—he grips your breasts, rolling your nipples between his thumbs as he speaks.

“I loved her. I really did.” It’s hard to concentrate when he moves his knee along your wet underwear, his fingers pebbling your nipples when he tugs lightly. “But I couldn’t be a husband to her, and she couldn’t handle the rumors. The gossip.” Your whine is quiet when Kuroo leans down, grazing his teeth over your earlobe to speak to you directly. “But not you, little dove, isn’t that right? You can, because you already have. Isn’t that right?”

He doesn’t let you answer. His nose pushes aside the cloth of your dress and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, the pain and heat from the bite making you cry out. You squirm to get away, but that only makes you grind against his thigh and arch into his touch as he circles and tugs at your nipples. Though it stings, pleasure also buds in your stomach, especially when he runs his tongue over the spot and does it again. Pain and pleasure, demon and human.

Your head is too clouded to think straight, so you only nod and release a breathy, “Uh-huh.”

“That’s a good girl,” he compliments in a murmur before moving down further.

His tongue around your nipple feels foreign but amazing, his mouth warm as he sucks on your bud. You don’t realize he’s pushing your skirts up until his hand is warm against your outer thigh, squeezing and gently running his nails over your sensitive flesh. You shiver, arching into his mouth as the two ends of his tongue circle around your nipple and pull a moan from your parted lips. It feels like you can’t breathe, and it grows worse when he nips a trail to your other nipple, taking it in his mouth just as his fingers find your underwear.

You cling to your blankets as he slips a hand inside, pads of his fingers running up and down your folds. It’s so much different from when you’ve explored yourself, your core throbbing as he trails back and forth, teasing as he sucks and licks your chest. His touch is electric but not enough, and you tell him that with a faint whisper of his name and the press of your hips against his hand.

“What was that?” He teases, middle fingertip pressing between your folds, gathering slick that he coats your folds with when he teases again. “One more time.”

“Tetsurou,” you gasp, biting your sensitive lip and moving your hands to his covered biceps. “...Please?”

“You’re begging for a demon,” he reminds you with a snort, dipping his fingertip into you one more time. He doesn’t pull out this time, letting you grind down into him so you can take more of his finger thanks to the rolls of your hips. “Yeah? You want a demon to take you and make you his? To make you curse God and beg for more?”

You can’t answer; you can’t form words. Everything you’ve learned until now screams at you that this is a bad idea, that he’s toying with you just like the stories said he would. But then he pushes his finger fully into your tight, wet heat, and you learn what you can do: whimper his name, tug at his shirt to get it off, and roll your hips into his slow strokes that leave you aching.

He answers your impatient tugs of fabric with a headshake. “Not yet.” His breath is hot against your chest as his finger moves in and out, the sound of his skin against yours and your squelching wetness sounding so loud in your ears. For a moment you gain clarity: the portrait of you and your mother hangs above the fireplace and reminds you of what you’re doing. But then Kuroo kisses you, commanding your attention and making you forget everything that’s not his heat or his touches.

Another finger pushes into you, scissoring at your walls as he drags them in and out, pushing deeper and harder when you grip onto his shoulders. Your mind goes blank the moment his wet fingers slide out and circle around your throbbing clit; your cry is too loud for his mouth to muffle, the jerk of your hips too strong from him to keep you pinned down to the bed. Your entire being is aching for him, the heat in your stomach growing worse as he circles with the pads of two fingers, dipping into your pulsing walls to wet his fingers and do it again. His touches are harder now, more relentless, and he lets out a growl when you pull back to breathe.

Kuroo immediately latches onto your neck, nipping and soothing as his fingers make a mess of you. You can’t stop shaking, pleasure rippling throughout your entire body until you’re gasping for air, head tilting back as white explodes behind your eyelids.

“Tetsu, Tetsu—oh.”

His dark chuckle is lost to your orgasm, your body arching and shuddering into him as pleasure floods you. Kuroo doesn’t stop touching your clit until you’re tugging on his raven locks, and even then he pushes his fingers back into you, wetness dripping onto your folds as he thrusts his fingers between your spasming walls.

You haven’t caught your breath when he rips his fingers from inside, pushing them between your lips. You close down around his fingers, sucking your own essence off him with a moan. Kuroo isn’t gentle as he lifts your legs, settling between your thighs and your once again covered cunt. You can feel his straining cock against you, pushing against your still sensitive core as he grinds against you through layers of cloth.

“Yeah, yeah,” he pants, watching you twist your body against his for more friction, before tearing his fingers from your mouth and replacing them with his tongue. Kuroo groans when he tastes you for the first time, claws tearing at the front of your dress while he dominates your mouth. He still grinds against you, tugging at your underwear until you finally feel him against your core.

His cock glides against your wet folds, and you pull away enough to blink down to see—oh. Oh God. His pants hang down enough to free his cock, but his tail holds your panties to the side, allowing him to glide easily between your folds. The tip of his cock bumps your clit and makes you keen, and there’s a smirk on his face when his tail jerks again. Your underwear is easily in tatters, falling uselessly to the bed as his two-headed tail runs over your heated skin. Kuroo finds your mouth again, sucking and swirling around your tongue just as his tail finds your clit and slaps down.

“Ah!”

Pleasure spikes through your veins when one of the heads of his tail circles your swollen nub and slaps down again. It’s hard to focus on kissing him when his cock continues to run along your folds, the tip pressing in and then pulling back as a tease. His tail circles one more time, slapping down before moving lower and entering you. It’s strange, your walls pulsing as the two heads of his tail spread you out while his fingers tug and rip at your dress until you’re completely naked and in a pool of useless fabric.

Kuroo pulls away, finally shrugging out of his shirt and throwing it off to the side. His pants go next, his tail still fucking you as he joins you in nakedness. He wraps a hand around his cock, stroking as he watches his tail disappear into you over and over, your legs parted, trembling, and beckoning him forward.

“Please,” you beg quietly, thighs clenching when one of the heads of his tail comes out to graze your clit again. It’s not enough, your body strung tight like a bowstring and ready to snap if he keeps touching you like that. “Oh, please.”

“Looks good,” he croaks, hand speeding up as he watches you pathetically grind into his tail. He takes a step forward, his thighs splitting yours even further as he leans closer to watch. With his free hand, he finds where you ache most, making you cry out as your second orgasm grows closer and closer. “So good.”

It’s all too much—the way his tail fucks you, the way his fingers work your slick and pulsing clit, the way he fucks his fist to match you. You bring a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself as you cum again, walls clamping down around his tails as he continues to work you. Your body jerks into his touch, hot and needy, tugging on the sheets as broken sounds pour from your mouth. Then you feel something even warmer, and look down with bleary eyes to see his cum splash on your lower stomach and folds, coating the end of his tail.

It’s frightening how angelic Kuroo looks, sweat beaded on his tan skin, hair sticking to his forehead, a satisfied grin on his features. He moves his hand, and you see his cock twitching to life again, his hand still wrapped around it, sticky and white with his cum. You murmur his name, heat in your face as his tail pulls from you and wraps around you to jerk you further up the bed. He slips between easily, two hands holding your hips down so you can’t escape him, even if you tried. His half-hard cocks rubs all over your stomach to your thighs, but he avoids your folds until you’re whimpering and grabbing onto his shoulders.

“I… Tetsu, I—”

“Can’t waste it,” he tells you with a grin, and it isn’t until he pushes into you that you realize he was cleaning you. That he was gathering his spilled cum and stuffing it back into you, his cock filling you to the brim as he bottoms out.

It’s a tight fit, and there’s a twinge of pain that fades into a dull ache when Kuroo pulls back out and in. It only takes a few thrusts for you to get used to him, and when pleasure creeps through your body, you bring him closer with legs wrapped around his waist. It’s easy to get lost in him, lost in the feeling of his length stretching you, in his hands groping your chest as he fucks you. His tail runs all over your stomach and sides, squeezing at the doughy flesh until you’re squirming for more.

“You’ll look even better,” he grunts, tail tapping your lower stomach over and over, just above your pussy. Oh God, he can’t possibly mean— “All swollen, won’t you? You want it.”

“No,” you groan, but you’re clinging to him anyway, grinding your hips into his quick thrusts that keep you pinned down.

“Mm, shit, don’t lie.” His tone is chastising but there’s a playful grin on his face that only makes your walls clamp down harder on his thick length. “See? You’re practically begging for it.”

“No, no, I—” You don’t finish your sentence because your rebuttal dies on your lips as fast as it came. You can’t argue against him when your body is flaming hot, his nails biting into your hips make you groan, and when the thought of Kuroo filling you up makes you choke on a breath because it’s exactly what you want. “Oh God.”

“There it is,” Kuroo laughs, grabbing onto your thighs to push them into your chest. He fucks you even harder, keeping you pinned down as his cock drags along your walls with abandon. All you can do is cling to him, nails digging into his dewy shoulders as he uses you for his own pleasure. “I told you.”

“Tetsu.”

You want him—all of him. Want to feel him touching you, kissing you, marking you as his own, anything to prolong the heat blossoming in every crevice of your body. It’s overwhelming, and just when you think you can’t take anymore, his tail finds you again, rubbing your swollen clit with an intensity that makes you cry out.

His face is pinched like he’s the needy one, like he’s the one teetering on the edge instead of you. Your walls suck him in even harder when he lets out the most beautiful groan, pulsing wildly as his tail circles so quickly that you can’t breathe. You were so sure you couldn’t handle another, but your pleasure spikes again when his cock hits something deep that you didn’t know was there. It forces your eyes to flutter closed, legs and hands clinging to him like he’s the last bit of sanity you have left.

“Take it.” His growl is low, raising goosebumps on your arms as his thrusts threaten to split you in half. Kuroo seems gone, lost to carnal desire and his need to fill you up. You don’t realize you’re begging between your labored breaths until he laughs, deep and hoarse, angling you a little more to hit that spot over and over. “Listen to you, pleading for a demon. You want it?”

“Want it, want it—” You’re babbling, scratching down his arms as pleasure builds and builds one last time. You aren’t sure if you’re talking about your own orgasm or his cum, but you continue to whine: “Please, please, so bad, I—ah—there—”

Something within you snaps, and you lose track of how many times you moan, whimper, and sigh his name as you reach your third high. There’s a pounding in your head that mimics the slap of his hips, the slick sounds of your wet cunt, and the grunts Kuroo releases as he chases after you. You can only cling to him as he pins you down, nearly knocking the breath from your already tight lungs with how he bends you in half. There’s a broken groan that you think is your name, but it’s lost in a curse as he floods your cunt with his seed. It’s so warm, warmer than the hand he presses against your shoulder, keeping you still as his choppy thrusts make sure you’re stuffed full. His cock twitches within you even when he stops moving, dark red eyes focused on the creaminess on his length as he pulls out then pushes back in one more time.

“Good girl,” he grins, sharp teeth glinting in the firelight.

It’s only when you’re in your right mind again that you realize what you’ve just done. Laying with a demon, giving him your body, entrance to your house, and worse—your heart. You squeeze your eyes shut as he rocks into you, pushing his cum deeper, making sure you remember how warm and perfect he feels within you.

When you wake up, he’s gone.

It’s no surprise, but part of you still aches worse than your sore body as you reach for him and find him missing. You’re cleaned and dressed in a soft nightgown, but you’re still alone, left with only the nearly burnt out fire.

You feel like a doll, picking out a dress with a high collar to hide the evidence, squeezing your thighs together to keep Kuroo’s cum within you. You don’t speak as you work at the tailor shop, letting the women who need their dresses and skirts fixed gossip in front of you. The wedding will be this Saturday. Do you think they’ll have children? I bet that Takeru—

The name makes you poke yourself with your needle, wincing as you set down the fabric in your lap. Blood pools on your fingertip, just like blood pooled on your lips and shoulder last night before Kuroo healed you.

Was what Takeru said true? Was he telling the truth: that it’s Kuroo’s fault Takeru’s mother took her own life, too in love with a greedy demon to accept the fact that he never wanted her? Or was Kuroo who was being truthful, his love for her pure and overcoming the boundaries of human and demon? What of the women in town, lost to pleasure, just like you last night, only to meet the worst of fates? Did Kuroo have something to do with them… and would that happen to you, too?

You don’t have any answers by the time you make it back home. The routine is always the same—lighting the fire, locking the door, and barricading the window—only tonight it’s half-hearted. Lethargic. Regretful. You’re about to close your curtains when you see them and pause.

A pair of blood red eyes in the darkness, watching, waiting, and focused only on you.

#by: meiansmistress #dark reads #ch: kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x reader #f: fic #tw | monster fucking #tw | blood #tw | overstimulation #tw | tailfucking #kink: blood play #kink: creampie #kink: pussy spanking

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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not really a romantic (but for you i’d give you the world)

semi eita x fem. reader

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, lots of l-bombs, very sappy and romantic, soft sex, light praise, light nipple play

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: he would never call himself a romantic person but for you, he’d do absolutely anything

Keep reading

#by: semisgroupie #light reads #ch: semi eita #semi x reader #g: fluff #f: oneshot #kink: creampie #kink: nipple play

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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𝔎𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩

〈 you were normally their good kitty girl, so what happens when they come home to find you breaking their one rule?

𖤐 Bokuto x Kuroo x Catgirl!Reader

𖤐 warning(s): NSFW 18 + MINORS DNI, Hybrid reader (cat girl), daddy kin/k dynamics (daddy & papa titles used), clit slaps, manhandling, punishments, face fucking, rough fucking, lowkey size kink squirting, creampie, soft dom kuroo, mean dom bo, they both end up being soft tho <33

𖤐 author notes: hi! This piece was written for @bokutobabie ‘s furever collab <33 i was so excited to see this collab cause I knew I could make the piece hella self indulgent cause ya know, I’m bokuro’s kitty girl 🥺💋✨ I missed writing for the hubbies! I’ll have to do it again sometime soon! <3 reblogs, comments, and feebback are greatly appreciated!

You were usually so sweet for them, their precious little kitty girl. Laying on the couch as you waited for them to get home, ears perking up at the sounds of their voices, purring as soon as their scent hit your nose. You were always so quick to greet them, nuzzling into each one of their broad chests as they pet along your ears, showering you in the kisses they weren’t able to give you at work.

It’s what they were used to, what they expected of you. So when they came home After work after work on a Friday evening, Bokuto already buzzing about being off for the weekend, they were a bit disappointed with the lack of attention they received.

“Kitty?” Kuroo called, brows furrowed as he pulled his hand free from Bokuto’s. His eyes scanned the apartment, maybe you had just been napping, and would pop up from your usual place on the couch at the familiar sound of his voice.

But still, nothing.

“She’s gotta be sleeping,” Bokuto spoke, despite the pout that was etched onto his lips. Kuroo couldn’t help but be a little worried. You were their precious kitty girl, had something happened. Did you leave? Why would you ever?

Once in the kitchen, his ears perked up, the sweet little tinkle of the bell on your collar coming from your shared bedroom. Bokuto must have heard it too because his pout quickly faded in turn for a grin, his volleyball bag being abandoned by the door in favour of him reaching the bedroom door.

“Kitty~ Are ya sleeping in here? Wakey wakey, Papa and Daddy are–”

His voice caught in his throat, something that was usual for the spiker, well unless he was flustered of course. Kuroo noticed right away, brows drawn together as he headed to his boyfriend’s side. “What?”

But Bokuto didn’t need to answer, not when the sound of your cute little mewls sounded much louder with the door open. Kuroo needed to see for himself, and there you were

Ass up on the bed, body naked with a little layer of sheen along your soft skin. Your tail was a bit puffed from shock, ears pressed against your head as your fingers faltered with the thoroughly soaked toy. It slipped away from your fingers, leaving your swollen pussy lonely as it started to clench just from the looks Bokuto and Kuroo were sending your way.

Kuroo couldn’t hold back his laughter as you scrambled onto your hunches, an attempt to hide the fact that you were breaking their one and only rule.

And that was that your kitty cunt was theirs and only theirs. You didn’t need to touch it without them. Hell, there were two of them even, surely you could be good and patient for them to please you, which they always did without question.

And yet here you were, panting as you snatched up the little toy to quickly flip off the vibrations.

“Well, what’s up with stopping the show? I was enjoying that?” Kuroo said with that shit-eating grin of his, arms crossed about his chest despite his playful demeanour. It was to make up for the frown etched onto Bokuto’s face, who was very much not in a playful mood seeing you being such a bad girl.

“I wasn’t.” Bokuto’s voice was gruffer than usual, chest puffed out a bit as he approached the bed. He snatched the toy from your hands, ignoring your whines and attempted excuses as he examed it, watched the way the light reflected off your arousal which coated the silicon.

“Fucking filthy.” He all but growled, tossing the toy somewhere forgotten while his free hand snatched up your ankle. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, your yelp only making him roll his eyes as he easily held your thighs open to get a good look at your pussy. “You’re dribbling, all over the bed? How nasty.”

“What got you so worked up that you couldn’t wait, huh? Hopefully, it was at least the thought of us.” Kuroo was still sounding playful as he joined Bokuto’s side, his grin only getting bigger when you started to squirm, skin heating up with embarrassment at just how close Bokuto was getting to your soak cunt.

“M’sorry, m’sorry” You simply muttered, squeaking when Bokuto’s palm came down flat onto your throbbing clit. The impact was unexpected, making tears swell to your lashline that quickly spilled over when two more spanks join the first in quick succession.

“Not even gunna try and come up with an excuse, huh?” Kuroo’s tone became mocking as he grabbed at your other thigh, the one that attempted to snap shut as Bokuto raised his hand for another spank. You cried out with this one, the sting making your ears perk up and your lower lip tremble. “Well, Papa wouldn’t wanna hear it anyway–”

“One rule, princess,” Bokuto emphasized his words with smacks, each one sounding sloppier as your pussy shamelessly gushed from his harsh treatment. “You have One. Rule. what happened to our good kitty? Did she decide to just fuck off?”

“N-No Papa, m’sorry~!” Your voice was pushed out between sad little sobs, the disappointment laced in Bokuto’s tone only making you feel that much more embarrassed about the whole thing. Bokuto clicked his tongue, lips twisted in what you perceived as disgust as he spat onto your swollen cunt, smeared it there just to make an even bigger mess. The simple touch made your back arch, the sting remaining on your folds from the previous slaps.

Bokuto was ignoring you at this point, pupils blown out as he stared at the way your cunt trembled, little hole just begging to be stuffed as it clenched and clenched at the air.

“Gotta fuck the bad behaviour right out of you, dumb cat.”

That made you sob again, seeing him so mad, not once had he ever called you ‘cat’

Cause you were their kitty.

“It’s for your own good, sweet girl, no more crying~” Kuroo cooed, still condescending as ever as he eased himself onto the bed, bringing your thigh closer to your chest to give Bokuto more space to ruin you. He pressed little kisses along your tear-stained face, which you happily leamed into, desperate for the sweet affection you were so used to. He eased your claws out of the sheets, placed them right on the zipper of his pants to distract you from Bokuto who was getting rid of his shorts and boxers altogether.

“Bad girls need to be punished, but daddy thinks Papa is being just a little too hard on you.” That was meant from a quick ‘fuck off from Bokuto, but Kuroo quickly laughed it off as your trembly fingers worked his cock free. “So go on, suck it, makes ya feel good doesn’t it~?” Smoothing the damp hair away from your face, cupping your head to turn it towards his cock so you could slip it between your lips.

“You’re too soft.” Bokuto simply muttered, the grip on your hips suddenly becoming bruising as he pushed the fat head of his cock into you all in one go. Your eyes widened, your squeals being muffled by Kuroo’s cock as his hand tightened on the back of your neck, making sure your pretty lips stayed locked around his dick as Bokuto fucked into you at a harsh, sloppy pace.

“Mm, maybe. But I also knew you’d tell her to stop being so loud and take the punishment. This will keep her quiet~” A groan slipped off his tongue, eyes lit up with amusement as your claws clung to his slacks, lips suckling obediently around his cock even as your eyes rolled back from Bokuto’s relentless pace.

It was already hard for him to fit into your sweet cunt as is, usually easing himself in after one or two orgasms, or Kuroo had worked you open with his own. Instead, he bullied himself into your hole with each thrust, grunts puffing from his lips as your kitty cunt squeezed him for dear life, pulse and pleaded for anything gentler, anything softer.

But you knew you wouldn’t get that, knew that he was far past going easy when he started to pinch at your puffy clit each time his thick tip tapped against your cervix

Your sob was muffled into Kuroo’s cock, fresh tears spilling on your heated cheeks. Kuroo bit his lip, hushed you as his thumb smoothed away the tears. “You can take it, gotta take it kitty~” He encouraged, his dick only getting more hard at the way his length bulged against your cheek, at the way Bokuto’s balls started to make a wet clap echo in the room. It was mean of him, to get so much more turned on by the sight of your tears, by the way, Bokuto was cursing under his breath when he finally bottomed out in your sloppy pussy.

But, punishment was punishment. And you’d take it, even if it was a little mean.

“Finally, fuck.” Bokuto gritted through clenched teeth, thrusts only seeming to pick up in pace now that he had forced your cute pussy open, just enough that his cock was snuggly held, being squeezed tighter each time his hips met yours. Seeing the light ring of white that already started to form around the base of his cock finally made him coo, his voice sounding so much softer than it did moments before.

“Little kitty getting so worked up over a punishment, getting papa’s cock all dirty, is that it?” He followed Kuroo’s lead, his tone being nothing short of condescending. It only made you gush harder, cheeks hallowing around Kuroo’s length with a mewl.

Kuroo groaned, the grip of the back of your neck tightening so he could fuck himself into your mouth. Sure, he had said this was for you, but how was he supposed to just let you suckle when your throat was just begging to be fucked just as hard as your pussy was?

You were their needy kitty for a reason.

You became pliant so easily, eyes dazed with tears as you continued to look up at Kuroo. The sting Bokuto’s cock left on your gummy walls became a dull throb as your orgasm neared. You wanted to hold back, force the knot in your tummy to loosen back up so your owners could continue to have their way with you, to teach you a lesson.

But you just couldn’t help yourself. Your ears began to twitch, tail puffing up from the pleasure of them using you. Because your sweet kitty cunt adored everything they gave to you, even if it was punishment.

With a squeal that was easily muffled by the way Kuroo’s cock sat snuggly in your throat, you made a mess of Bokuto’s pistoning dick. The cute spew of your arousal onto Bokuto’s abdomen only made him sneer, sinister grin growing from the perfect sight of your swollen pussy milking away at his length, at the way your eyes rolled back and your ears laid flat against your head like they always did when you came undone.

“Nasty lil thing, getting all worked up like this from a punishment.” Bokuto couldn’t even keep the amusement from his tone, the calloused pad of this thumb smearing your slick over your clit to prolong your pleasure. It has your back arching, claws digging into the material of Kuroo’s pants as some sort of anchor as the high makes your vision blur.

“It’s cute” Kuroo mumbles, teeth biting down on his lower lip as your throat clutches at his cock, practically milking away at it while you gag just like your cunt would. He groans when finally comes, eyes lit up from the way your throat bulges as his hot seed spills within you. He’s tempted to pinch at your nose until you swallow every drop, but it's unneeded. Because despite your tears, gags and fucked out expression you swallow the thick load without hesitation, purring as you do so. It makes Kuroo sigh in adoration, pulling his cock out just enough so you can still toy around with his tip with your tongue.

“Good girl… that's our good girl, she’s back... Never left did ya?” Kuroo hums, his palm moving from the back of your neck to pet along your ears that still twitch with each thrust of Bokuto’s hips. You try to respond, lips leaving Kuroo’s slowly lowering cock with little strings of saliva keeping you connected to it, but all that comes out is whines of pleasure as Bokuto fucks into you a few more times.

His hips stutter with the force, making your skin ripple and your tail jolt when he finally does empty his heavy load into you. His balls clench as rope after rope fills your pretty pussy. And Bokuto of course doesn't hold back fucking the mess into you, only to watch how sloppy your hole becomes his arousal and your own bubbling free.

“What do you say, Kitten?” Bokuto asks, the bite from earlier faded away from his tone as he smoothes a large palm over your body. He gently massages at your plush sides, just enough to bring your glazed-over expression to him. You blink out a couple more tears before responding, head settling against Kuroo’s palm as you continue to clench lovingly around Bokuto’s cock.

“Thank you, papa, Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome, Princess.” They say it in unison, of course. And got rid of the toys.

You didn’t need any, not when you had them <3

Property of bokuroskitten™️ Please do not repost onto any other platform.

Member of @hanayanetwork @anime-central @hqintheclub

#by: bokuroskitten #light reads #ch: tetsurō kuroo #ch: bokuto kōtarō #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x kuroo x reader #f: fic #tw | hybrid reader #kink: daddy kink #kink: creampie #kink: face fucking #kink: hard dom #kink: soft dom #kink: manhandling

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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Pairing: Suna x f!reader

Tags/tw: Breeding, Somnophilia, mating press, oral (m. receive), established relationship

WC: 2k

A/N: Here it is @tetsurousharlot ! This one came to me easy I hope you like it! 😩

You’re not sure what it is that wakes you initially, but you do know that sleep is evading you entirely now. It’s the middle of the night and you’re standing in the kitchen with a glass of water, pulling your robe tighter around your body to chase away the chill. Between your boyfriend and his roommate, you’re always outvoted when it comes to the thermostat.

Grumbling internally about Suna and Osamu and their stupid hot-blooded bodies, you finish your water and pad back down the hall to your boyfriend’s bedroom and push the door open softly.

Suna is right where you left him when you snuck out of the bedroom for a drink, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slumbers on. You’re half annoyed but mostly amused at how deeply he can sleep almost every night, more than a little jealous. If it weren’t for his loud and many many alarms, he’d never wake up on time in the mornings.

He shifts only slightly as you slide back into the bed with him, watching him carefully for signs that he’s waking as you run your palm down towards his inner thighs. When you get little more than a soft inhale, you smile and inch your hands higher until your fingers are hooked in his waistband.

Keep reading

#by: anime-nymph #light reads #ch: suna rintarō #suna x reader #f: oneshot #g: smut #tw | somnophilia #kink: breeding kink

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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One Night

pairing: dilf and widowed!meian shuugo x stripper fem!reader word count: 4.5k, canon compliant smut warnings: angst in the beginning (meian's wife passed away), pullout method, a good, fun ass smackin', against the wall time requested by: @antique-remains—sorry I read the request wrong (I think Meian was supposed to be the stripper? lol) but I hope this is okay too <3 written for: Asellus' 2022 Follower's Event thanks to: @vanille--kiss for the banner. literally what I do without you and @anime-nymph to save my ass every time? (the answer is perish)

Music thumps from the speakers as he watches you twirl around the pole in the middle of the stage, the tassels of your bra moving with you. You’re enticing as you jump up, using your strength to climb to the top before swinging yourself around. He’d never really thought he’d be sitting here on his 40th birthday, watching a pretty little young thing dance for the money currently being thrown on the stage.

Then again, Meian Shuugo didn’t really think the last year of his life would ever happen, either.

He’d retired from volleyball at the top of his game, excited to spend time with his son before he went off to college, and his wife to rekindle the romance. High school sweethearts, she had been there for him since day one—supporting him through team changes, overseas moves, injuries, and a scandal that shook their foundation but ultimately led to a stronger marriage.

And he had been there for her when she took her last breath, a sudden illness over seven months ago that ended with her grasping his hand and smiling weakly.

“Promise me you’ll love again,” she had whispered. “Because you have so much love and life left in you.”

He’d made the promise, given her his word that he would move on, but how could he when she was the only thing he knew?

He spent the last seven months focused on his son, bonding with him, making sure he was alright to go to university, seeing him off for the first day before driving home. The quietness of the house was the worst. He was used to his wife humming songs in the kitchen, listening to old classics through the speakers, laughing at movies he didn’t find very funny but could smile at anyway, all because of her.

It took him two weeks wallowing in the emptiness and solitude to reach out to his friend, Hirugami Fukurou.

“Listen man,” his friend had said over dinner and drinks. “You have to do something for your 40th birthday.”

“I don’t know,” Meian sighed, running a hand through his floppy hair. He hadn’t bothered to style it or cut it since his wife passed away. “It doesn’t feel right since it’s the first without her.”

“She’s the one who told you to move on,” Hirugami reminded him softly, lifting his drink like he was toasting to her memory. “I think she’d want you to get out of the house a little, if only for one night, yeah?”

That’s how Meian ended up at the strip club—or should he say “entertainment establishment”, as Hirugami had put it?

He had expected a club or some kind of bar, not you swiveling your hips to the music as you bat your eyes at the crowd. But he has to admit that he’s entranced with your movements. You move like the ocean: fluid, calm, making his mind twist and turn to get more of you. It wasn’t like this for the last three dancers, but there’s something about you that has him downing his shot and leaning forward in the booth to somehow get closer.

“Gonna go to the bathroom, be right back,” Hirugami says as soon as your set is finished, leaving Meian to his thoughts.

He doesn’t belong here. Even in his youth, he never went to a place like this. He was content with his family, with his volleyball training, and never really saw the need for anything else. Meian contemplates leaving, heading out before Hirugami can come back and shooting him a text thanking him for hanging out, but in the middle of considering it, he’s interrupted by Hirugami approaching the table.

Next to him stands you.

Now that he can see you better, you look much too young for him, your face made up and glittering in the strobe lights, your body even better up close. Don’t look at her cleavage, don’t look at her cleavage.

“Hi,” you coo, voice light and smile even lighter. “Aren’t you a handsome one? A little birdie told me it’s your birthday.”

Hirugami looks absolutely amused as his gaze flicks from him to you.

Meian stiffles his sigh and nods. “It is.”

“Oh good, because I have a present for you, if you’d follow me.”

Meian immediately looks at Hirugami, and his friend is wearing a shit-eating grin that tells him he paid the big bucks for a private show.

“Fukurou—”

“Have fun!” His friend answers as he claps him on the shoulder, helping him up with a hand on his elbow. “I’ll be waiting here.”

Meian doesn’t feel like he’s in control of his body when he follows you, focusing his eyes forward as you lead him past the stage. The security guards mean mug him until you giggle, placing a hand on the bigger of the guard’s shoulders.

“Paid for. See you in a bit.”

You lead him to a back room, opening the door and letting him walk in first. There’s a long couch against the wall and a table with a bottle of whiskey and cup on it . You offer him a drink when you follow, but he declines, taking a seat on the plush couch. Meian feels like a schoolboy again on the first day of class, sitting straight up, not knowing what to expect. You’re more relaxed—seasoned might be a better word for it—your heels clicking against the tile flooring as you come closer.

Your hand on his shoulder makes him jolt, eyes locked on yours as you gently open his legs and settle in between. You don’t say anything as you start to dance for him, swaying your hips to a slow beat even though there’s no music. It feels like fire dances down his arms as your hands move, and then you turn around and start grinding your ass against his hips.

Oh God, this is bad. He could probably be your father—hell, you look his son’s age, maybe even in university yourself—but he has to hold tight to the edge of the sofa to keep from touching you. Meian can feel his dick springing to life, and he has to stare at the ceiling to will away his erection. Only it’s near impossible when your fingers dig into his thighs and you whisper,

“You can touch me.”

He wants nothing more than to do that, but even with your permission, it seems wrong. You circle your hips one more time and he lets out a faint breath, thighs starting to shake with how hard he’s flexing his legs.

“Really.”

“Probably shouldn’t do that,” he laughs to keep calm, but you make an impatient sound in the back of your throat and grab his hand.

Your tit feels good under his palm, even through the thin fabric of your bra. You squeeze his hand over your chest to let him know it’s okay before you start dancing again, and Meian feels like he’s about to lose his mind. He slowly trails his palm up your side, cock twitching when you gasp, then palms both of your tits in his hands. It earns him a sharp roll of your hips that makes him do it again and again.

He’s achingly hard, embarrassingly hard, especially when you move from his grip and turn around. You straddle his hips, rolling and shaking your body for him, a pretty grin on your face. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, batting your eyes at him when he squeezes your bare sides.

“Your time is almost up. Is there anything else you’d like to do?”

Meian swallows, forcing his hips down so he doesn’t grind into the slow rocks of your hips. “No… no, this was enough, thank you.”

“Thank you?” You giggle, fingers moving to his hair and playing with the gelled back ends. He really needs a haircut. ��I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I get off in an hour,” you whisper, one hand trailing down his chest until it hovers over his hard cock. You don’t touch it and that makes it worse, because there’s a plea on his lips that he has to swallow back. “And I honestly never do this, but there’s more I’d like to do with you.”

His chortle is sarcastic. “I’m probably old enough to be your father.”

“And I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” you counter with a glint in your eye that jolts his heart. “So if you'd like to continue, then meet me here in an hour.”

When you let go of him, Meian feels a strange sense of loss and he has to clench his hands to keep from reaching out. You wink at him but don’t say anything else as you re-open the door for him to exit. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, and yet after taking Hirugami back home, he’s back at the club, sitting in his car as he waits for the hour to tick by. Five minutes, three, one. He should go home, go to sleep, and pretend like he’s not here to take you back to his house for a night of fun. But then the hour turns, and you walk out not even five minutes later, your bag slung over your shoulder as you look around.

He’s out of his car in a second, holding a hand up so you see him, and there’s a sly smile on your face when you wander over.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you respond, thanking him when he holds the door open for you then crosses to the other side. You wait for him to get back into the driver’s seat before asking, “Where are you taking me?”

“My house.” Meian isn’t expecting the look of alarm on your face as he starts to drive away, so he asks, “What?”

“You don’t do this very often, do you?” You chastise, but there’s a smile on your face when you hold up your phone. “Can I have your address so I can tell my friend? In case you turn out to be some weird serial killer.”

Oh shit. He didn’t think about it like that. Meian resists the urge to slam his head into the steering wheel as he recites his address then stutters, “Listen, sorry, I didn’t consider—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you cut him off gently. “You didn’t seem well-versed in the ways of the club, either.”

“My first time,” he admits. “Never really had a need for them when my wife was alive.”

Oh. Oh no. Silence fills the car as he exits the highway, and the urge to faceplant into the steering wheel is back ten-fold. Why did he say that?

“It’s actually my first time, too,” you answer, staring at the red light you’re stopped at. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

“I’m honored,” he jokes as he accelerates again and makes it into his apartment complex. “Especially since it’s an old man like me.”

“I see nothing old about you,” you smile, fingers grazing over the worn air-freshener hanging from his rearview mirror. “Except maybe this.”

It makes him chuckle, and he makes a mental note to buy more air fresheners as he leads you up to his apartment. It feels strange to have you silently following behind him, taking in everything about his expensive building. He’d worked hard over the last two decades to prepare for life after retirement, and yet… yet. It’s not his wife who slips her shoes off behind him, but you, your young eyes darting around the large open space, a smile on your face.

“Wow,” you breathe as you walk in, gaze lingering on the photos on the wall. “Nice place. You were a volleyball player?”

“Ah, yeah. Middle blocker for a bunch of teams.”

He scratches the back of his head as he heads to the kitchen, the sudden need for another shot overwhelming. That one at the club a few hours ago wasn’t nearly enough. When he grabs two shot glasses and wanders back out with his bottle of vodka, you’re still staring at the pictures on the wall.

“Was this your wife?”

Shit. He should have taken the extra time to come back and hide those pictures. He isn’t sure how you can look so casual when he feels so awkward, nodding once then offering the shot glass out to you. You take a shot together, the heat running down his body when he swallows adding to the already burning heat boiling underneath his skin.

“She’s pretty,” you compliment, humming as you cycle through all the pictures. “Your son, too?”

“He’s at university now,” Meian answers, taking another shot before offering you one.

You take it gratefully, a sly smile on your lips. “A little younger than me then.”

God, he should have thought about this more. But if he had been thinking, you wouldn’t be standing in his living room doing shots with him as he tries not to think about how badly he wants to shut you up with his tongue down your throat.

“Sorry, I should have taken them down.”

You look positively confused when you turn to him and ask, “Why?”

“You’re not weirded out or anything?”

“Nah, it’s cool,” you shrug, pointing to the gleaming band that still sits on his ring finger, even seven months later. “You can keep that on, too. This is your house, I’m not going to tell you what you can and can’t do.”

“Wow,” Meian chortles in surprise. “That’s very mature of you.”

“Oh, please,” you huff with the ghost of a laugh, raising your eyebrows at him. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘but she has an old soul!’ type of men who seek out young girls for their maturity.”

“If I remember correctly, you came onto me,” he retorts jokingly as he lifts the vodka bottle. When you shake your head, he sets it and his empty shot glass on the TV stand. “I meant it’s very respectful.”

“Respectful,” you repeat as you turn to him, and there’s a shift in the way you look at him, eyes batting as you take one step closer, then another. You’re nearly pressed up against him, fingers playing with the ends of his shirt as you smile. “I thought you were really respectful, too, you know.” Your fingers trail up his stomach, to his pecs, to the collarbone peeking out from the edge of his shirt. “I was curious if you’d be just as respectful if I gave you full permission.”

“Are you giving me full permission?” Meian questions, trying to even out his breath. He feels a bit lost, out of his element for sure, but he decides he can make it up as he goes along. You look like you’re about to say something smart, mouth opening in annoyance, and he tuts. “It’s a yes or no question, don’t give me attitude.”

“Oh?” You giggle, tugging on the collar of his shirt. “I think this is enough of an answer.”

Then you lean up and kiss him.

His deceased wife and son, the pictures on the wall, the vodka on the TV stand. Meian is thinking about none of those as he slips his hand to the back of your neck and his tongue into your mouth. All he’s thinking about is how good it feels to have your mouth on his, heat flashing in his stomach when you eagerly kiss him back. You press yourself up against him, and Meian almost moans when your breasts press against his chest, hands groping down his sides. He’s still toned from decades of volleyball, body strong as he holds you against him, and you let him know you like that with cute little sounds as you grope all along his arms.

You break the kiss to breathe, but it’s short-lived. After a few huffs for breath, your lips are on his once more, and he’s dragging you back toward the bedroom, fingers tightening on the back of your neck. Your fingers push underneath his shirt, feeling all over his chest and sides as he stumbles back, pulling you with him. He makes it as far as the bathroom before he can’t stand it and presses you against the wall, his large body towering over yours as he continues to devour your mouth.

Your dress is barely anything, giving him a perfect opportunity to squeeze at your thighs and your covered ass, ripping a whine from you. When you pull back, your lips are swollen, your cheeks flushed as you pant for breath. He moves his mouth down your jaw, dragging his tongue down your skin until he can nuzzle into the crook of your neck and nip at your flesh. It would be a cute gesture if not for the way you grind against him, cunt dragging along his thigh as you moan and rake your fingers down his stomach.

“Maybe I should take you here,” he muses, the words muffled into your skin as he lifts your ass a little so you can grind into his cock instead. “You seem a little desperate.”

“Can you blame me?” You respond breathlessly, pushing his shirt up to his pecs to try and get it off. He’s loath to take his body off yours, but he pulls back enough to oblige before he’s back on you, teeth and tongue all over your exposed chest. When your barely-covered cunt grazes against his hardening cock, you both grunt. “Seems I’m not the only one.”

“Far from it,” he agrees, fingers finding their way into your skirt again so he can tug your panties down enough to expose your cunt. You whimper when he cups it in his large hand, fingers patting at your folds as he rubs up and down. Fuck, he can already feel a little wetness without even pushing his fingers inside. “Shit, you’re already this wet, huh?”

“Touch me,” you beg, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another kiss that’s a mash of swollen lips and messy tongues.

Meian obliges, pushing one of his thick fingers into your heat, groaning himself at how good you feel. He wants to tease you, take it slowly so you’re pleading for him to fuck you, so he’s surprised at how a sick sense of urgency ripples through him. He’s moving quickly in no time, holding your hips at an angle with one hand while fucking you with the other. Your head falls back against the wall, little sighs and whimpers falling from your mouth as you grind into his hand.

You look and sound so pretty, especially when you make that sound as he pushes a second finger into your cunt. Your eyes are lidded as you stare down at him, fingers wandering down his stomach until your fingers tug on his belt loops. When your hands move down further, one hand cupping his hard cock in your grip, he can’t contain his groan.

“You’re big all over, aren’t you?”

Meian thinks it’s supposed to be playful, but it’s absolutely breathless, eyes flashing when he curls his fingers. You keen, humping his fingers as he stretches you, the sound of your wetness louder than his heavy breathing.

“You wanna find out?”

He isn’t sure if that’s what you want to hear—he’s not really sure of much right now, other than the pressing need to feel your tight cunt for himself—but the way you bite your lip and nod a few times makes him swallow. He would laugh at how desperate you look to get fucked, if he wasn’t the exact same right now.

“Go ahead then,” he urges against your lips, brushing them once, twice, before pulling back and making you chase him. “See it for yourself.”

A swift push of his wrist and his fingers are no longer in you. It barely takes you a moment to throw your dress over your head, panties and bra following in the next moment. Meian is about to tell you to move to the bedroom when you drop to your knees, his belt and jeans open with barely a movement. He helps you tugs his clothes down, kicking off the remaining garments until he’s as naked as you, and you exhale heavily as you stare at his hard cock.

“God,” you whine as your hands wrap around his waist and squeeze his ass. “I can’t wait.”

Your mouth is warm when you take him, and Meian lets out a surprised sound, placing a gentle hand on the back of your head. You start bobbing, eyelashes fluttering as you stare up at him. It’s too hot—between your darkened gaze and the sight of you taking as much of his cock as you can, he can’t stop himself from bucking into your mouth. It makes you moan, fingers digging into his ass as you suck, lick, and hollow out your cheeks, anything to force sounds from his mouth again.

It’s been so long since he’s been touched that Meian can feel the ripple of pleasure budding in his stomach, sprouting and growing up his spine until he’s pushing you down harder, body shaking. He feels you laugh, obviously pleased with the way you’re making him feel based on the vibrations throughout his cock; when your fingers move down and graze his full balls, he jerks you off his length with a huff. Your mouth is still open, cheeks flushed and shiny with your sweat, and Meian thinks he might cum from just how perfect you look on your knees in front of him, legs spread and waiting for him.

“I can’t wait either,” he admits gruffly, grabbing your arm to help you stand. In the next moment you’re pushed against the wall, your body bent over as you hold onto the wall, biting on your bottom lip as you look back at him. Meian runs his hands over your ass, brushing his fingers over your wet folds then retreating, doing it over and over again until you’re whining and pushing back toward him, trying to get more. “Now that’s a pretty sight.”

You open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off with a swift slap to your ass. You gasp at the sting, hips pushing forward before you settle back into your original position, fingers digging into the wall.

“Too hard?” Meian questions as he runs his hands up and down the cheek he just smacked, and his throat goes dry when you shake your head.

“Good,” you murmur, and it’s the first time you look not in control, the first time you’re nearly begging him for something instead of the other way around. “Again.”

He obliges. Meian smacks your ass over and over, holding your body still with a firm hand on your stomach, until your ass is stinging and hot, until you’re pushing back at him with a low, needy moan and watery eyes.

“Please fuck me,” you beg quietly, bottom lip swollen from his earlier kisses and how hard you’ve been biting it.

He should take you to the bed, should pamper you and treat you well, should make your first time together anywhere but against the wall next to his bathroom. But then you whisper, “Please,” and he’s on you in a second, molding his body against yours as his cock slips into your waiting pussy.

Holy shit, you’re wet, much wetter than you were when he was fingering you. Wet enough that he slips inside easily, burying himself to the hilt and making you gasp. He covers your hands with his own, and his heart skips a beat when you intertwine your fingers, clinging to him as he starts to rock into you slowly. Meian kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of saliva until he reaches your shoulder and bites down hard. You whimper, grinding back against him as he starts to fuck you, slowly at first until you’re breathlessly whispering his name and moving your hips faster.

Only then does he let go of one of your hands, groping all over your body. He squeezes your tits; tugs at your nipples, swirls his fingers around your stomach until he moves further down, dancing over your mound. As soon as he finds your clit, you jolt against him, body shuddering as your head tips forward with your groan. Shit, he can feel himself growing close again, your walls sucking him in, tightening around him as he fucks you harder. It’s why he moves his fingers faster, circling and pressing down on your clit enough to make you cry out and squeeze him even harder.

When he hits that spot that makes you see stars, you whimper and fall to your elbows, and he has to keep you upright with a firm hand on your chest. It only lets him move faster, angling his hips to hit just right as he keeps playing with your nub. Your walls start spasming, and that familiar heat in his body, that tightening in his balls, signal that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Where?” He grunts through his labored breaths.

Your voice is barely recognizable when you babble, “In-inside, please, fill me up, ah—”

But he doesn’t. You feel so good, so warm and tight, but the rational side of him wins out. As soon as he feels himself cumming, he pulls out, coating your pussy lips and upper thighs with spurts of his seed, the white creamy cum dripping onto the floor. You whine at the loss, so Meian immediately stuffs his fingers into your cunt again, fingers once more circling your clit until you’re crying his name and clamping down around him. Shit, you sound good whimpering for him, body trembling as you barely manage to keep yourself upright, moaning that it’s too sensitive even as you’re humping his thrusting fingers.

When you finally grow quiet, Meian carefully pulls his fingers from you, pressing light kisses to your back as he helps you stand. He takes you back to his room, helping you kneel on the bed before going back to the bathroom. He grabs a warm towel to clean you up and massage into your sore ass. You hum happily, looking at him as you set your forehead on your crossed arms, a small smile on your face.

“You still have all your volleyball strength, huh?”

“I only retired a few months ago,” he snorts, trying to look anywhere but at you bent over and spread for him. He can feel his cock twitching again when his fingers slip a little too far in and brush over your asshole, and you gasp and shake your hips at him. “It’s not like I stopped working out.”

“So then you still have your stamina?” You giggle, shaking your hips again as if you saw his reaction and are trying to make him do it one more time. He does, fingers trailing down to your core, rubbing over your swollen folds and making you whimper.

“I sure do,” he retorts as he flips you onto your back, careful with your ass as he drags you to the edge of the bed. He spreads your thighs, kneeling on the floor and settling in between, a grin on his lips as he parts your folds and sees your pretty, wet cunt all on display for him. “Would you like me to show you?”

#by: meiansmistress #light reads #meian x reader #ch: meian shūgo #f: fic #g: hurt/comfort #tw | unprotected sex #tw | age gap #kink: spanking #kink: creampie

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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monopoly.

featuring. possessive!kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader

wc. 1.6k

genre. dark/taboo, smut

tw. 18+ nsfw, non/dubcon, toxic relationship, manipulation, daddy kink, oral, penetration, creampie, implied breeding

synopsis. you’re kuroo’s, now and forever, one way or another.

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#by: fishstyx #dark reads #kuroo x reader #ch: kuroo tetsurō #f: oneshot #g: smut #tw | dubcon #tw | noncon #tw | toxic behavior #kink: daddy kink #kink: creampie #kink: breeding kink

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

Text

Yellow Eyes, White Lies

pairing: vampire!bokuto koutarou x vampire!hinata shouyou x fem!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: threesome, dubcon/coercion (reader stays stop once before the smut), blood play (biting), anal (for character x character), dryhumping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie requested by: 🎱 (i hope you enjoy!)

written as a spinoff from a heart rekindled (but you don't need to read it to understand) | asellus' 2022 follower's event

The club is foggy thanks to the smoke machine near the stage, and loud bass bangs against the speakers to his right as he takes a sip of his drink. Clubs aren’t exactly Bokuto Koutarou’s scene, but he doesn’t mind coming every once and a while, just so he can see the smile on Hinata Shouyou’s face. The boy’s orange hair is visible through the streaks of green strobe lights, and when he catches Bokuto’s fierce stare, his white smile is even more blinding than the lights.

If he thinks about it, Bokuto never expected their relationship to last as long as it has. Perhaps it was love at first sight when he spotted the boy walking home from his job as a paper delivery boy. Though it was too early in the morning to follow him then, Bokuto waited for complete darkness the next night to go to the newspaper company, waiting outside the doors for the delivery boy to show up before the dawn’s rays could peek over the horizon. Even in the twilight, the orange-haired boy’s smile was as bright as the sun, so who could blame Bokuto when he ‘accidentally’ bumped into him as he was leaving the building?

“My apologies, sir,” the boy had said, his voice a bit high-pitched for the age Bokuto assumed he was. “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s quite alright,” Bokuto drawled back, flashing a blinding smile. “I’ll accept your apologies if you give me your name.”

Hinata Shouyou had slipped from his lips quietly, but when Bokuto’s name slipped from his lips instead, it was much the opposite. The way Hinata begged for more as Bokuto rutted inside of him always made a ripple of pleasure run down his spine, and he forced Hinata down into the mattress even further, more than happy to provide.

He didn’t bite him the first night, the second night, or even the third. With Akaashi, he had moved quickly, the man’s beauty too appealing to pass up. He wanted to covet the book lover, keep his beauty all to himself until he grew tired of the same routine and moved on, just like he always did. Bokuto saw the way Akaashi looked at him: like Bokuto was the sun, the center of his universe. But he couldn’t say the same. While Bokuto felt a hot sense of want for the man, he didn’t know what love was, nor did he care to.

Yet, when Hinata whispered his name and tightened his hand in his hair, face twisted in pure bliss, Bokuto believed, for the first time, that he might soon find out.

“Run away with me,” Bokuto whispered into Hinata’s sweaty neck one night as the boy lay curled up on his chest, hours before Hinata was due back at work. His tone was more nervous than he cared to admit. People were starting to get suspicious, Bokuto knew. He wasn’t aging, he only came out at night, and whispers had begun after he was spotted leaving the forest with blood on his collar. He needed to leave soon, but he didn’t want to go alone. Not this time. “We can go wherever we want.”

“Do you have the funds?” Hinata joked, his fingers trailing down Bokuto’s bare chest to run along the hair decorating his happy trail. “Enough to buy a castle, and perhaps two sheep? One for you and one for me.”

“I have plenty more than that,” he answered honestly, eyes disappearing with his smile. Money had never been one of Bokuto’s worries, not after being alive for over a century. “And I know a way we can be together forever, if you let me.”

Hinata wasn’t as perceptive as Akaashi. It took until Bokuto’s fangs scraped against his neck then sunk into his skin for Hinata to gasp, “Vampire.”

Bokuto kept watch over Hinata as he transformed, waiting in the shadows until the orange-haired boy’s eyes had turned from brown to ruby red when they popped open for the first time in days. They left the next morning, leaving town without saying goodbye to anyone to move countries and start anew. Hinata was sloppy at first, leaving blood all over his clothes and face as he drank from animals or Bokuto himself, making the townspeople well-aware of their presence. So they traveled on and on, until Hinata learned to control himself, and they could leave a relatively peaceful life with those two sheeps and the castle Hinata wanted.

Over the centuries the castle turned into houses, that turned into cottages, that eventually turned into large apartments in the heart of the city. They had been there for decades now, moving around enough to never be found out but always coming back home to each other. The only thing that hadn’t changed was their love, and Hinata’s insatiableness. The orange-haired man always wanted to try something new, whether it was a sport, a game, or a third or fourth person brought into their bedroom. Bokuto certainly didn’t mind—after being alive for so long, he needed something to keep the fun in living forever.

And that’s what he watches Hinata do, his chest pressed against the back of a pretty girl who sways to the beat. He can hear you say your name when Hinata asks, and what Hinata is whispering to you is loud and clear with his super hearing. You’re so beautiful, can I take you home? Hinata asks as his hand slips to the hem of your short dress to brush along the skin of your inner thigh. Bokuto sees you hesitate for the briefest moment before you let out a little whimper when Hinata’s hand cups your cunt through your panties.

“Come on, say yes,” Hinata urges over the beat, and Bokuto knows you will. His cock throbs in his pants when you whimper again and let out a faint uh-huh, and he downs his shot, catching Hinata’s gaze and winking at his lover before heading home to wait.

He’s barely home for more than ten minutes when he hears Hinata’s footsteps in the hallway.

This is part of their game, their fun. Bokuto lets Hinata pick their partners because he truly doesn’t have a preference either way. Sometimes it’s stoic men that look like they’ve drunk sour milk before Hinata’s mouth makes them fall apart; sometimes it’s hesitant women whose eyes flutter in confusion when Bokuto steps into the bedroom and pretends to be surprised to see them together.

You’re not like that, Bokuto can tell as soon as you step into the apartment. You haven’t noticed him standing in the hallway yet, too entranced with moving your mouth against Hinata’s incessant kisses. Your arms are around his shoulders for more leverage, and one of your legs is wrapped around his waist, keeping his hips pressed flush against yours. A whine falls from your mouth when Hinata grinds his hard cock against your cunt, and you match him grind-for-grind, tugging Hinata’s shirt out of his pants to run your nails down his back.

Bokuto can’t help but palm his cock through his pants when Hinata groans, nipping at your lower lip until Bokuto can smell the metallic scent of your blood. You groan even louder when Hinata begins moving down your neck, marking little bites his entire way down until there are little cuts and droplets of blood gathering on your skin. Bokuto almost laughs at how impatient Hinata is, the boy bending down on his knees and pushing your skirt up so he can take a long inhale against your panties.

“You smell so good,” Hinata whines, giving long licks up and down your panties until you’re whimpering and pushing against his face.

Hinata doesn’t even take your panties off—he moves them to the side so he can lick up and down your folds, sucking at the skin until his saliva covers it all. Your fingers disappear into his hair, holding him close as he parts your folds to dip inside. Fuck, Bokuto is achingly hard, his hand not doing much to alleviate the throbbing as he watches Hinata work. The boy’s always been a bit sloppy; it’s a small part of his charm that he makes up for with his enthusiasm and stamina.

He proves it now too, his tongue circling your clit, sounds loud as he sucks until you’re gasping and writhing against the wall. His fingers push into your cunt, and Bokuto can smell you even better. He isn’t sure what’s better, the smell of your arousal or the smell of your blood, but he is sure that he wants to taste both for himself.

“Oh, God,” you whine, head thrown back against the wall to expose your beautiful throat.

Bokuto has to swallow down his thirst immediately. It’s perfect for him to sink his teeth into, shining with your sweat from the club and the way Hinata eats you out. He can practically feel the thrum of your racing heartbeat, the way your blood rushes through your veins, and his sharp teeth knick his lower lip when he bites a little too hard. His fantasy of your blood spilling into his mouth is interrupted with a sharp gasp—your eyes are open and on him now, mouth falling open in shock.

You look like you don’t know what to say for a moment, so Bokuto only smiles and lifts his hand in greeting. You tug on Hinata’s hair a few times a little too hard, but Hinata only takes that as a signal to move faster, a hand on your hips practically forcing you to glide your cunt along his tongue. Your eyes are still on Bokuto when your orgasm is ripped from you, your cry ringing in the living room as you shudder into the pleasure. Hinata holds you steady as you shake and twitch, his face lost underneath your skirt that fell when he grabbed your hips to keep your pussy close.

“Hinata-san, who…”

Hinata peeks his head up from underneath your skirt, and when he catches Bokuto’s eye, his smile grows blinding.

“Kou! How long have you been standing there?”

“Too long,” Bokuto pouts as he shuffles into the room. “It was a nice sight though!”

“Wait, wait—are… are you two…?” You try to pull away, but Hinata keeps you firmly against the wall, a cute scrunch in his nose that shows he’s unsatisfied still. “You didn’t tell me—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bokuto placates you. He doesn’t even have to flash his eyes to get you to calm down. You slump back against the wall as he comes over to your side. “Sho-kun likes to bring me home presents.”

“I—stop.”

Hinata doesn’t let go of your hips even at your protest, but you push him away with strange strength that makes Bokuto chuckle. You’re awkward as you hurry back over to the front door, but Bokuto is on you in a second, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from slipping your shoes on. You squirm on his gasp, but the minute he runs his sharp teeth over the pulse point on your neck, you gasp.

“Where ya going?”

“I didn’t agree to a—”

You shift in his grasp when he bites down a little harder, his fingers wandering down to your thighs. He pats at your cunt through your dress, fingers dancing as he laughs against your skin.

“It’ll be fun, I promise. Right, Sho?”

Hinata is right next to your other ear before Bokuto is even finished talking. You jump in surprise when Hinata’s hand joins Bokuto’s in running over your pussy, both of their fingers drawing circles that make your thighs shake.

“Right!”

“Wait,” you whine indignantly, but it’s all for show.

As soon as Bokuto bends you over, you nearly collapse to the wall, nails digging into the wall when he follows. His cock ruts between your thighs as he forces your hips back to meet his thrusts. Hinata is right behind him, teeth running over the spot on Bokuto’s neck that Hinata knows he loves. Bokuto groans when Hinata bites down, his fingers digging into your hips as Hinata feeds from him.

“Wait, please.”

Your whimper is so cute and makes Bokuto dip his hand into your panties. You’re so wet, your pussy pulsing when he glides his fingers and easily as he glides his cock between your thighs.

“What are you going to do about this?” Bokuto asks breathlessly. His whole body is hot as Hinata continues to feed from him, blood trickling down his neck as Hinata’s hands grope at his stomach and your exposed ass.

“I—” You moan when Bokuto finds your clit, swift fingers rubbing circles until you can’t stop grinding back against him for more.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans as he ruts a little harder, like he’s actually fucking you through the barrier of the clothes you both have on. Hinata separates from his neck, licking up the spilled blood that trickles from the puncture wounds, before he turns Bokuto’s neck and kisses him.

It’s loud and sloppy, Hinata’s mouth tasting like metallic iron thanks to his blood, and the sound of their tongues are mixed with Bokuto’s grunts and your cute whimpers as Bokuto plays with your clit. You look back with dazed eyes, biting on your bottom lip as you watch them make out, until Bokuto catches your eye and gives you a half-smirk.

“I want to see it,” Hinata murmurs breathlessly, eyes focused on the way Bokuto’s covered cock disappears between your thighs.

“You’re eager tonight,” Bokuto jokes, pulling his hand from your panties and making you whine at the loss of pleasure and friction.

“Usually you’re watching me!” Hinata counters.

Your head is spinning as they talk casually, like you’re not panting and nearly boneless, clinging to the wall of their foyer ,stuck between leaving and giving into the threesome. This isn’t what you signed up for—not that you’re against it, but you have rules about threesomes, that include conversation and not stumbling into getting caught by a pair of very handsome boyfriends. You’re about to say something when you’re caught in Bokuto’s grip, your yelp in surprise swallowed by his mouth. He tastes funny though you can’t place it, not that you care to when you’re pulled back into the living room. Something presses up against your back as you stumble forward, and Hinata’s lips are immediately on your shoulder and neck, his hands pushing at your dress eagerly.

You’re about to ask them to wait again. You need your bearings, need to get your mind straight, but then Bokuto lays down on the living room faster than you can blink. You’re on top of him in a second, your dress discarded to the side as you straddle his lap. Bokuto’s cock pulses as Hinata grabs your hips and helps you glide along his covered cock, his hands fumbling to get his pants off. Fuck, he’s hard as a rock, ready to sink into you and make you sing his name.

“You’re gonna look so good on his cock,” Hinata murmurs, grabbing your earlobe and tugging down. There’s a sharp pinch that makes you gasp, but it’s soothed away by his warm tongue and mouth when he sucks on it.

“Ah, we need a—ugh, a condom and—”

Your words are cut off with a sharp inhale when Bokuto’s dick presses up against your folds, thanks to Hinata holding onto your panties. Wait, what? The orange-haired boy holds the fabric in his hands, the middle tattered like someone sliced right through it. You’re speechless as he brings it to his nose and inhales, but your wonder doesn’t last long when the tip of Bokuto’s cock presses against your folds.

Hinata helps you slide down onto Bokuto’s cock, pushing up your bra so he can grab at your tits. It’s overwhelming, your senses overloaded with the pleasure buzzing through your body at how big Bokuto is and how Hinata’s fingers twist and tug on your nipples until they’re hard.

“Mm, feels good.” Bokuto’s grin is huge, his hand on your hips forcing you to start bouncing on him. “Yeah, fuck yeah, like that.”

“This is his favorite position,” Hinata explains as he squeezes and kneads your tits, breath hot on your cheek. His tongue dances around the edge of your lips until you’re trying to meet him for a sloppy kiss that makes you whine.

“Can you blame me?” Bokuto asks with a chuckle.

You barely have to move—Hinata and Bokuto do it for you, helping you ride Bokuto as he lifts his legs and bucks into you. Your nails dig into their hands on your hips as you move, head falling back against Hinata’s shoulder with your stream of grunts and whimpers. Bokuto hits deep, and when his thumb finds your clit again, you jolt into his touch and shudder against Hinata’s still-covered chest. You can feel Hinata’s cock pressed up against your back, and your voice is barely audible over how heavy you’re breathing.

“Take it off, please.”

They both listen, throwing their shirts off to the side before they’re on you again. Hands are all over your body, squeezing, kneading, and touching your flesh until you’re shaking against both of them. Hinata’s lips and teeth are all over, biting and sucking enough to make you dizzy with want. You have to catch yourself on Bokuto’s pecs, squeezing at his chest as you fuck yourself on his cock, trying to chase your high.

“Shit, you were right, Sho,” Bokuto gasps, his hand worming between your bodies to find your clit again. “She looks good.”

Hinata chuckles against your back, his mouth trailing down your back, nipping his way down to where you and Bokuto are joined. His widened eyes watch Bokuto’s cock disappear into your wet cunt, and you’re about to ask what he’s doing when you feel it. His tongue. He pushes you down toward Bokuto a little further so he can lick and suck at Bokuto’s balls, his tongue sometimes trailing a little higher and catching your folds as you move. Fuck, it’s strange but it’s so good, especially when he groans and tries to taste more of the two of you. Hinata’s hands grab your ass to spread your cheeks, helping you move even faster.

Your thighs burn with the effort but you’re so close to your second orgasm that you keep going. Bokuto’s fingers, wet with your combined slick, make a mess of your clit, his eyes focused on your face as it twists in pleasure.

“Come on, let me feel it,” Bokuto begs, bucking up into you with enough force that it feels inhuman. “Wanna feel you cum, let go.”

Something about his voice is so soothing, wrapping around you like a chain that keeps you hooked on him. You lean down into him as your orgasm hits, burying your face into his shoulder as you cry out. Your walls pulse around him, squeezing him until he grunts and forces you to keep moving to prolong both of your pleasure. When he finally slows down and lets you go, your entire body is buzzing and ready to fall over onto the living room floor.

“What a good girl,” Bokuto sighs into your ear. You shiver at the closeness, then shiver again at the loss of contact when you’re nearly ripped from Bokuto’s lap.

You don’t even have time to squeak before Hinata is on you. The living room floor is cool against your back, but Hinata’s touch is somehow even colder, his hands lifting your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. Your moan is hoarse when he slips inside, your cunt still sensitive from your two orgasms.

“Hinata-sa-ah, I need a break—”

“But it’s my turn to have you.”

His smile is so blinding, and when he ruts into you, you quickly forget about the sharpness you saw in it. Your eyes roll back as his cock drags along your walls, his pace already quick and spiking heat all over your sore body. He leans forward, nearly folding you in half as his thrusts become choppy. When you open your eyes, you see why. Bokuto is behind him, a bottle of lube next to his knee, and his fingers have disappeared into the space between Hinata’s cheeks.

Hinata looks so good with his eyes squeezed shut and his cheeks flushed pink, and it makes you clamp down around him and paw at his shoulders. He falls forward into a kiss that’s mostly tongue, grunts fanning across your lips thanks to Bokuto’s thrusting fingers. Hinata stills for a moment and when you glance back, you see Bokuto is now pressed up against him, sweaty chest to Hinata’s back as he bottoms out. Bokuto said something about you being the present earlier, but it strangely feels like a gift to you—sharing the man who thrusts into you thanks to the slap of Bokuto’s hips.

“Bend over a little more,” Bokuto whispers to Hinata.

Hinata drops your legs so he can listen, and the two of them work in tandem to find a rhythm that has you nearly begging for more. Bokuto’s powerful thrusts make Hinata hit even harder, and when he brushes against your cervix, you cry out, biting down on your finger to keep quiet. Hinata doesn’t bother to hide his moans, his mouth open in high-pitched grunts and pants that spike heat in your stomach one more time. Bokuto is just as vocal, his sounds muffled into the back of Hinata’s neck as he fucks him.

There’s a drop of something on your shoulder, and you open your bleary eyes, expecting to see Hinata dripping sweat. What you don’t expect is blood. It drips down from the side of Hinata’s neck, his face twisted in pleasure as Bokuto makes a mess of the back of his neck. You nearly scream, but then Bokuto’s sharp and red eyes land right on you. A blink and they’re back to the usual yellow, but there’s a smirk on his face as he laps up the dripping blood before you can get another bit on you.

It feels like you can’t breathe, and it grows even worse when Bokuto’s fingers wrap around to find your clit again. Hinata’s hands on your tits, pulling and tugging as he fucks you senseless, his rhythm a copy of Bokuto’s commanding presence.

“No, no, I can’t, ah—”

“Yes, you can,” Bokuto soothes cheerfully, rubbing like he already knows what you like, as if he already knows your body like the back of his hand.

“I want to feel it, too,” Hinata begs, his mouth and teeth all over your shoulders and neck as if he’s trying to find something to tether himself to. “Please, please, let me feel it.”

Even though you’re sure you can’t handle a third, your body doesn’t listen. Pleasure spreads throughout your entire being as Bokuto moves even faster with his thrusts and fingers, Hinata trying to keep up with his pace while also grinding back into his boyfriend’s cock. Everything is so sensitive that you’re twitching and trembling in no time, hands clinging to Hinata’s shoulders as you’re fucked into the floor without mercy. There are tears in your eyes when you cum for the third time, the feeling so intense that you don’t even make a sound for a moment. Then you’re tumbling head first off the cliff, nails digging into Hinata’s cold skin, your feet finding Bokuto’s hips to keep him moving.

Your head is still fuzzy when you hear Bokuto curse. He’s the first to release, fucking Hinata through his orgasm. Hinata isn’t far behind, giving a few more sharp thrusts before bending down and biting at your shoulder. You moan tiredly, eyes slipping closed as a flood of heat fills your cunt and makes you light-headed. You know you can’t fall asleep here, not in a stranger’s house, unsure of what just happened and what you just saw, but you’re so tired. Your entire body is aching from your position on the floor, your shoulders and neck stinging with the men’s constant bites, and you’re nearly fading when you hear Hinata and Bokuto murmur.

“Aw, I wanted her together.”

“You ruined her neck,” Bokuto laughs. There’s the sound of muffled kissing but you can’t even crack an eye open to see. “Maybe next time.”

Next time? You want to ask, but it’s already too late.

It takes a moment to get re-oriented to your surroundings. Light streams in from a window—your bedroom window, you realize when you sit up. You’re back in your bedroom in your apartment, wearing a long white nightgown you haven’t worn in years. Your clubbing clothes are in the hamper, and when you pad out to your living room, you’re all alone.

Was last night a dream? You’re convinced of it for only an hour. Then you go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and see the truth. You’re sore down beneath, still filled to the brim with leaking cum. You’re also covered in little red marks that look like scratches all over your neck, and there’s a puncture mark in your shoulder like someone took a bite from you. It reminds you of the blood that dripped onto your shoulder and the flash of Bokuto’s red eyes—was that real, too?

You go about your day in a daze, meeting friends, running your errands, trying to wrap your head around how you got home last night. You’re still thinking about it when you make it back home, now deep in the night, a small shiver running down your spine as you lock your front door. Never again, you promise yourself. That club is officially off your list for the rest of your life.

You walk into your bedroom to drop your bag and change, but before you can, two pairs of glowing eyes make you scream. They sit outside your window—your fourth floor window—hanging from a thick branch that sways in the night breeze. Hinata’s smile is blinding as he points to the lock on top of the windowsill, tilting his head as he waits for you to let him in. You don’t move, too entranced by Bokuto sitting next to him, kicking his legs as he smiles and blinks at you.

“Don’t you want to talk?” You hear Hinata say through the window, and you swallow, daring to walk over to him. You unlock and crack the window slightly so you can answer.

“There’s… there’s nothing—How did you get up here? What’s going on?”

“Let us in,” Bokuto smiles. “We’ll tell you then.”

It’s probably a bad idea, but Bokuto’s yellow eyes are so enticing that you find yourself nodding, pushing the window open even further so they can come in. They were good to you last night, weren’t they? Treated your body well, took you home, even dressed you, didn’t they? There’s no reason to be afraid, you tell yourself, even as your hands tremble and your legs lock up.

They saunter through the window like they knew you would say yes, and you don’t even get another breath before they’re both on you, trapping you between their bodies as you gasp in surprise.

“Wait, you said we could talk!”

“Later,” Hinata hums against your ear, running his tongue along your chin until you’re pushing back against Bokuto’s chest.

“It’s been so long since we’re both found someone we enjoy,” Bokuto explains next, groping at your ass through your pants and keeping you firmly against him. “Maybe 100 years?”

“I think longer!”

“Oh my God,” you whisper, trying to push Hinata away from you.

It can’t be. The marks, the blood, the red eyes, the visit at night. Vampires, your mind screams. And you just broke the cardinal rule.

You let them in.

“So we want to have you together,” Bokuto answers as he unbuttons your pants, fingers pushing inside to run over your underwear. “Let us.”

“I can’t,” you gasp, but it’s already too late.

Hinata and Bokuto have you trapped under their spell, spun into a web you couldn’t escape from, even if you tried.

tagging: @amarinthe, @erinoikawa, @lovelyunholyc, @miyarinrin, @quanyeon, @tehehebri, @meanshiggy, @bakarinnie, @eros-miya, @etoilezone, @rinsangel, @jojowantstocry, @kellyyween, @sunaspillowprincess, @kittycatkrissa, @darth-papi, @scentedflower, @crystal-lilac, @inarizaki-manager, @TheHaplessFrog, @pazumane, @rosesandtoshi, @luna-vitae-suae, @ebiharachan, @savantsoulfinder, @Animehero666, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @callmeraids, @kemakoshume, @lazarusstorm, @bananabossbitch, @devilgirlcrybabiey, @abcdemporio, @antique-remains, @hannas16, @rory-cakes, @chloee0x0, @dreeming-dree, @osanoya, @tirzamisu, @icelyn20, @japanesevenom, @dakumarauder, @5sos-wdw, @tdntu0, @reeseelise, @hitoshitoshi, @wolffmaiden, @hqintheclub, @anime-central, @hanayanetwork

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#by: meiansmistress #light reads #bokuto x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto x hinata x reader #ch: bokuto kōtarō #ch: hinata shoyo #f: fic #tw | dubcon #tw | blood #tw | coercion #kink: threesome #kink: blood play #kink: overstimulation #kink: multiple orgasms #kink: creampie

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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atta girl

pairing/s; daichi sawamura x fem!reader

warning/s; (18+) minors dni, pwp, dubcon, infidelity

word count; 1.8k

summary; police chief daichi who knows he should be packing up and clocking out in time for christmas dinner with his family but he’s too busy folding you in half against the cabinets in the file room, hissing against your ear to “shut up and take my cock quietly and then maybe i’ll drop the charges,” as he rams his cock into your squelching pussy over and over again, tugging against the handcuffs he never bothered to unlock to even remember the name of his loving, doting wife patiently waiting for him at home.

a/n; hi @ingeniumswhore i’m your secret santa! i’m so sorry this is so late, i was supposed to have finished and posted this christmas day, but guess who lost her job, had to apply for a new one, and got struck down by a fever all in the same month? :< i also made a moodboard to pair with this as an apology for being so late here.

you don’t remember how you got here, lewd slurping sounds reverberating throughout the small room as some stranger repeatedly pulled you on and off of his prick. vaguely, you think you were arrested for petty theft, but with every lazy buck of his hips that squeezed his shaft halfway down your throat, whatever picture of a thought you could piece together would slip through your fingers like sand.

the stranger—daichi sawamura, his shiny badge says—smirked only slightly, peeking at you with half-lidded eyes, having seen just how much of a fighter you were before he manhandled you to your knees and shut you up with his cock. now he was seeing a side of you that was much more pliant, a side of you that looked so pretty sucking him off.

he’d like to think his face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes swam with mirth, flickering with heat, and you tried to look away from the intensity of it all. but that was practically impossible, all you could see was him. your senses were constantly overloaded with him; his scent, his slick, his hands, him, him, daichi, daichi, daichi.

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#by: httpbakugou #light reads #daichi x reader #ch: sawamura daichi #f: oneshot #g: angst #tw | infidelity #tw | dubcon

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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haikyuu!! bad boyfriends: matsukawa issei

includes: DARK CONTENT // 18+ // minors DO NOT INTERACT please // NONCON + extreeeme misogyny and sexism, bully!mattsun, toxic relationship, oral (m! receiving), f! reader, lots of cumplay, sadism, degradation, dacryphilia, slap to the face (f! receiving), jealousy, annoying asshole antics

summary: Mattsun likes women where they belong. On their knees and covered in his cum.

this is for @diavohoe cumllab which means the main character is not mattsun, it’s mattsun’s cum. thanks for letting me join!

wc: 1.7k

bad boyf m. list

tagging the lovelies @hanayanetwork 🌸 @hqintheclub

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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Greedy, Part Two

mid-30s pool hall owner, biker tattooed!ukai keishin x mid-20s fem!reader 5.4k barely smut with too much plot, part two of two requested by @vivianvampyric

thank you to @anime-nymph and @vivianvampyric for beta reading this for me! <3 also for giving the consensus that you want to fuck ukai's son lmAOOO

part one | part two | Asellus’ 2022 Follower’s Event

You aren’t sure what to call this relationship you have with Ukai.

That night in your apartment lit a fire in both of you, and you found yourself in bed with the pool hall owner more times than you cared to admit. He knew he had you, smirking as he used his fingers, his mouth, his cock, whatever to make you shudder and moan his name over and over again. It didn’t matter if you were tired or busy the next day—if Ukai Keishin called and asked to come over, you let him, no questions asked.

You might have been embarrassed at how needy it made you seem, but it wasn’t just you. Ukai texted you much more often than appropriate for friends with benefits, inviting you for another round of darts or a drive around the city. The last time he came to your apartment, you hadn’t even slept together. You had curled up under his arm, watching a movie that made you cry, and made Ukai laugh at your crying. You had shared a kiss good night (okay, a few of them) before he left with a wave and a grin.

It had to mean something more than a casual fling, right? You wanted to ask but it made you nervous, not wanting to cut off the only friend you had. Takinoue and his wife were always nice to you, and you’d made friends with a girl named Kiyoko who managed the place every other weekend, but those were all Ukai’s friends. If something were to go south, you would be on your own again because you’re sure they wouldn’t split hairs over it.

Your thoughts are like a storm cloud hanging over your head as you open the door to the pool hall. You’d come earlier than usual on this Thursday at Ukai’s request, not even changing from your work attire before you caught a taxi and stepped into the place. Ukai sits at the bar with a drink in one hand, his face lighting up when he sees you.

“Is that pretty dress for me, girlie?”

“Someone was impatient today and asked me to come straight here,” you lament as you set down your belongings on the chair next to his, putting a hand on your hip. “Care to tell me why?”

“You asked me to show you how to play pool, didn’t you?” He meets your challenging gaze with a raised eyebrow of his own. “What better timing than just before the annual pool competition?”

“You think I’ll be good enough to enter?” You question with a giggle. “Maybe I’ll be a pro like I am at darts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ukai grumbles as he stands. He hates to be reminded that he has yet to win against you. “We’ll see about that.”

You’re the farthest thing from a pro at pool, and if you use Ukai’s wording, you could probably call yourself “horseshit.” The first few strokes, you’d missed the cue ball completely, and you still struggled with holding the stick correctly to hit them. You unknowingly sank the 8-ball the first time before Ukai laughed and told you he won automatically. (The second time was an accident.)

“Damn girlie, still not getting it, huh?” Ukai questions as he walks behind you.

You’re about to tell him off when you feel his body pressed up against yours. You’ll never tire of feeling him against you, his broad chest molding into your back as his hands grip yours. Ukai shows you the correct way to position the cue stick and where to hit the cue ball, but it’s lost to the thrumming in your veins and the feeling of his hips pressed against your ass. You wiggle your hips slightly and he makes a quiet sound that spikes heat in your body.

His voice is close to your ear, low and gritty when he asks, “Are you even paying attention?”

“Of course I am,” you answer, but it’s breathless and needy.

“Okay, then show me,” he demands. He moves away from you only enough to position the cue ball in front of the 7 and 9 ball, but then he’s right back behind you, body flush against yours. You line up your stick, about to shoot, when you feel his fingers graze along your inner thighs. It makes you pause, hips pushing back when his fingers run along your panties.

“Keishin,” you whine as you part your legs a little wider, bend over a little more for him.

“You’re supposed to be focusing, girlie,” he chastises with a deep chuckle that vibrates down to your core. His fingers move under your panties, pushing the fabric aside so he can cup your sex with his large hand. “How are you gonna win the competition like that, huh?”

“Don’t… don't wanna win the competition,” you gasp when his fingers pry your wet folds open to dip his fingertips inside.

“What do you want then?” He whispers lowly. Dangerously. Like he’s trying to make you beg for him with barely a brush of his thick fingers on your throbbing cunt.

“You.”

Ukai’s middle finger sinks into your pussy and rips a gasp from you as he pumps slowly. “Me what? What do you want me to do to you?”

God, you can’t say it. Your cheeks and body are already aflame, nails digging into the felt of the pool table as you push your ass back against his hips. You can feel his hardening cock against your ass when you do, and your walls clamp down on his finger as he moves much too slowly.

“I—please, you know what I want.”

Your voice is small, quiet, eyes dark as you look back at him with your neediest expression. But there’s only a smirk on his face that grows when he takes his middle finger out of your cunt and runs it along your clit instead.

“You gotta say it, girlie.”

Your body is already buzzing, desire flooding you as you stare at his satisfied expression. He has you, doesn’t he? Molded to his wants as easily as putty and you don’t even care to protest him.

“Make me cum, Keishin,” you beg. “Touch me, I need you.”

“Fuck,” he chuckles to hide the little intake of breath you definitely heard. “How can I say no when you look so pretty begging for me?”

Ukai doesn’t just touch you. Your skirt is suddenly around your hips, panties down by your knees, and his face is between your thighs. You squeal when you feel his tongue run all over your folds, parting your legs for him to move deeper. He eats you out like he hasn’t in years, fingers gripping your thighs to drag you closer to his mouth. His tongue runs all over your clit and makes you moan his name over and over, muffled into the pool table.

“Shit,” you whine as your hips buck into his mouth, his tongue dragging all over your walls before spreading your slick all over your clit and folds. It’s so messy, but his desperation and neediness only spurs you closer to your rising orgasm. “Kei—Keishin, please—”

The moan he lets out into your cunt makes you throb, and when he takes your clit into his mouth, you snap. The sound you make is loud, echoing in the quiet pool hall as you shake, gripping the pool table with your pleasure. You’re still whimpering when he stands up, smacking your ass once before fumbling with his belt.

You turn, ass hanging off the side of the pool table as you tug him down for a sloppy kiss. The taste of your cum on his lips makes you groan, and he helps you onto the edge of the pool table without breaking the kiss. You’re light-headed when he pushes you down, forcing you onto your elbows so he can run his cock along your folds for lubrication.

“Don’t tease me,” you demand through labored breaths, but he only grins and dips the head of his cock into your folds before pulling back out. You whine at the loss, pawing at his tattooed upper arms as you buck for more. “Keishin.”

“Greedy,” he mutters, rocking the tip of his cock in and out of you, much too shallow for your liking. “Aren’t ya, girlie? Greedy and messy—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. The little bell above the front door rings and a boy who looks remarkably like Ukai steps into the pool hall.

“Hey, dad—Whoa!”

Your scream is louder than Ukai’s curse, and you push him away from you to throw your skirt down and cover yourself. Ukai fumbles with his pants to pull them back up, and once the shock of being caught begins to wane, you realize what the boy just said.

Dad?

“What the fuck are you doing here, Hiroshi?”

Ukai is glaring at the boy—or maybe you should call him Ukai’s son? They look nearly identical, though Hiroshi’s shaggy hair is brown and his eyes are a lighter color of amber. Hiroshi regards you only for a moment before he sighs deeply.

“Another one, dad? She looks barely older than me.”

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

God, this is awkward. The tension in the room wraps its hands around your neck and squeezes, making it hard to keep your breathing even. You keep your hands firmly over the skirt of your dress, ignoring the fact that your wet panties sit uselessly near your feet. You try not to look at Ukai’s son but it’s so difficult. He wasn’t kidding—Hiroshi looks to be university age, and you’re definitely closer in age to him than his father. His father. What the fuck.

“Keishin?” You question softly. The blond turns to you, already digging into his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “This is your son?”

“You didn’t tell her about me?” Hiroshi chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Knock if off, kid,” Ukai growls, unlit cigarette in his hand as he points at his son. “You’re supposed to be at university so don’t change the subject.”

“I came back for the pool tournament, but if you’re busy…” Hiroshi’s amber eyes flick over to you before shrugging. He really is Ukai, down to the mannerisms and all. “I’ll give you two time to talk.”

You’re still rendered speechless as Hiroshi disappears into the back room, blinking a few times at Ukai as he lights his cigarette and flings his hair band uselessly off to the side. His hand disappears into his locks not a second later, running through the strands like he’s thinking about what to say.

“Keishin,” you say again as you push to your feet, slipping your panties back on now that Hiroshi isn’t there to see you. “Why didn’t you tell me about your son?”

“Was I supposed to?” Ukai counters, an edge in his tone that you’ve never heard from him before.

It makes your eyes narrow. “It would have been nice to know about.”

“I don’t see why you need to know, it’s not like we—”

He pauses, eyes on you as your expression twists sourly. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s thinking anyway. It’s not like we’re dating. It’s not like we mean anything. It’s enough to punch a hole in your chest, heart aching from the answer to the question you never asked.

“What are we, Keishin?”

Your quiet question pulls a sigh from his lips. “We’re fuck buddies, girlie.”

“Is that it?” When he nods, you scoff. “Okay, then why are you texting me good morning and good night? Why are you cuddling with me on the couch? Why are you inviting me here to spend more time with you?”

Your barrage of questions makes his eyes widen. He looks like he’s thinking about something, eyebrows pinching, mouth opening and closing a few times before he settles on, “It’s…” He takes a drag of his cigarette before exhaling. “Fun. It’s for fun.”

“And that’s all it’s ever going to be if you keep running away from your feelings,” you spit as you stalk over toward your belongings at the bar. Ukai says something behind you but you whirl on your heel, eyes like daggers as you glare at him. “Listen here, Ukai Keishin. I like you and I’m not afraid to admit it.” Your confession makes him choke on the smoke of his cigarette, but you keep pressing on anyway. “But I’m not going to wait around for you to figure out your feelings or get over whatever it is that keeps you from a solid long-term commitment. Think about it and call me.”

You don’t look back at him as you stalk out the front door, bitterness on your tongue tasting even more sour than his cigarettes.

The next day at work moves so slowly you think you might go crazy. You only have to survive today before the weekend hits, one last Friday before you can wallow in your own apartment. Ukai hasn’t messaged, not that you were expecting him to. You had given him a harsh ultimatum and you knew he needed time, but anger burns deep in your belly whenever you check your phone to see no messages.

It’s near the end of the day when Risako approaches your desk with a much-too-innocent smile that you know will end badly.

“So remember how you said you would go to a mixer next time?” She asks after short pleasantries.

Shit.

“Is it next time?” You groan, leaning back in your office chair.

“It sure is.” She slaps her hands together in a prayer motion, bowing her head slightly. “Someone had to pull out and we need one last girl!”

Isn't that always the excuse? You sigh, glancing at your phone again. It’s not like you have anyone waiting for you. Ukai has his bar and tomorrow’s pool competition, and you have a phone empty of messages from anyone, just like you predicted.

“Yeah,” you eventually agree, hoping this stupid mixer will get your mind off of everything going wrong in your life.

Except that’s not possible, because as soon as you arrive at the bar, you’re greeted by familiar light amber eyes and an incredulous, eerily uncanny smile.

Hiroshi.

“You have to be kidding,” blurts out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. He raises his hand slowly, shaking his head as you take the open seat across from him.

Risako glances at Hiroshi as she sits next to you before asking, “Do you know each other already?”

“Yeah, we met.” Hiroshi looks like he’s trying to hold back his laughter and you’re ready to smack that Ukai family grin off of his face. “Decently well in fact.”

“I thought you’d be at Moe’s,” you grumble as you grab the menu, looking for a drink to get you as trashed as possible. “What the hell are you doing here? What about the pool competition?”

“Here as a favor cause it’s tomorrow.” Hiroshi glances to his left at his brown-haired friend, making sure no one else is listening when he adds: “Aren’t you with my dad? Why are you here?”

“Maybe you should ask him that.” You don’t mean for it to be as sharp as it is, but he leans back with a whistle as soon as it’s out of your mouth. “Sorry… sorry. Look, I’m here to…”

You pause. You don’t know why you’re here exactly. To forget him? To move on? To wallow for a day to get your bearings straight? Hiroshi raises his eyebrows as he stares at you, and you exhale heavily.

“To get trashed.”

“Something I can get behind,” he smiles, and you wish he wouldn’t, because it’s like Ukai sits across from you. It makes your heart ache.

You find out very quickly that Hiroshi can drink. You handle your alcohol well but going toe-to-toe with the university student makes your head swim very quickly. It feels good to let loose at least, so you don’t mind ordering shot after shot of tequila to make yourself forget everything.

“You know, my dad’s kind of a dumbass,” Hiroshi slurs as he leans on his arm against the bartop. You’d wandered over thirty minutes ago to drink more, leaving the other pairs to fake niceties and talk to each other. “You’re kinda cool.”

“Why, cause I can drink you under the table?” You question back with a giggle, slapping his chest. “Tell Keishin that because he’s stuuupid. I am cool and he should see it.”

“He’s a good dad,” Hiroshi says as he lifts the next shot to his lips. He takes it, letting out a hiss before setting the empty glass down. “Was always around for my sports and shit, took care of me after mom left. Took way too much of her bullshit, too. But after the divorce he… well.” He makes an explosion sound that makes him laugh to himself.

You aren’t sure what to say to that so you just nod. Hiroshi looks like he’s considering something, face scrunched awkwardly, a calculating glint in his glossy eyes, then he smiles.

“Let’s mess with him.”

“What? Who?”

He takes his phone out of his pocket, and he’s dialing a number before you can stop him. It’s not even thirty seconds later before he yells, “Dad!”

You nearly spit out your shot, throat burning when you choke on your tequila. “Hiroshi!”

Ukai’s voice is impossible to hear over the sound of the bar, but based on Hiroshi’s shit-eating (and uncannily Ukai) grin, you know he heard your voice.

“Yeah, actually, I’m at the bar with her right now,” Hiroshi says, keeping his eyes on you as his grin grows bigger. “If you don’t want her, I’ll take her. She’s cool as hell.”

He cackles when you push his shoulder, your voice drunkenly slurring, “Hiroshi, oh my god, stoooop.”

“Fine, fine, fine.” He can’t stop cackling, even after he hangs up the phone without even saying goodbye to his father. “He sounds busy. Another drink?”

It’s a blur after that, faces and actions lost in a haze of tequila and way-too-funny stories. You don’t know how much time has passed when there’s a firm hand on your shoulder, and Ukai Keishin’s face swims double before settling into one angry-looking bar owner.

“The fuck are you two doing?” He grounds out, jaw tense just like it was yesterday when you scolded him at Moe’s Bar.

You try to flick him off but it’s too weak in your drunkenness. “What’s it to you?” You berate him, nearly falling into Hiroshi’s lap face first when you try to get off your stool to stand. Ukai has to keep you upright with a jerk to your shoulder. “You don’t want me, Keishin, so go away.”

“This is your fault, kid,” Ukai chides Hiroshi as he tugs you to stand with a strong grip on your arm. “Not everyone can drink like you.”

“No dad, it’s your fault for being such an ass,” Hiroshi counters, his words slurring at the ends. “I’ll stay at a friend’s so work it out.”

“I don’t—” Ukai stops himself, exhaling through his nose when you fall into his chest trying to get out of his grip. “Fine. I’ll take her back. We need to have a talk before you go home, kiddo, so don’t think you’re getting out of this one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hiroshi waves his dad off with an overexaggerated wave of his hand. “Lecture me later.”

“Two Ukais is too manyyy,” you whine as Ukai tries to pull you away, out of the bar and into the warm night. “He’s just like you and that’s too muuuch.”

“Sit in front of me.” Ukai ignores your drunken rambling, helping you onto the motorcycle seat. “Or else you’ll fall off and crack your head open like the drunken idiot you are.”

“And whose fault is that!” You shout back at him with a frown, fumbling with the helmet he hands you and nearly tripping over the bike trying to get on.

The way home is a blur, your head swimming as the night air rushes past you. You don’t remember making it home, and you certainly don’t remember making it upstairs. You’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow, giving one last groan when someone pulls the covers around your shoulders and tucks you in.

Pain.

That’s what registers first.

Next is the dryness in your throat and the soreness in your limbs as you sit up, rubbing your tired eyes.

Then comes the realization: this isn’t your apartment.

Aspirin and water sit on a side table that is assuredly not yours, and your eyes bounce around the room as you take them and finish the water in a few large gulps. There’s a bunch of clothes on the floor, and a very telling leather jacket is thrown over a chair in the corner, a cigarette box peeking out of the corner of one of the pockets.

This is definitely Ukai’s place.

You set your head in your hands, trying to think about what the fuck happened last night, but it’s too painful. Your head throbs when you try to recall anything after Hiroshi complaining about his childhood. When did Ukai show up? How did he know where you were? You need to get out of here. How embarrassing to sleep in his bed and not even remember him coming to get you.

You fix yourself as best you can in his vanity mirror before padding out to the living room. If you’re quiet enough, you could leave without him nothing, without—

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Shit.

Ukai looks well-rested, half-smoked cigarette smoking in his hands, a bottle of Gatorade sitting in front of him. He gestures at it with his chin before taking another puff of his cigarette.

“Morning,” you weakly respond, shuffling over to take the offered drink. “Thanks for bringing me back.”

“Yeah,” is all he says before taking another drag. “You want breakfast?”

Even the thought of food right now turns your stomach so you shake your head. “No. I’ll call a taxi and get out of here.”

“Lemme take you back.”

“Keishin,” you sigh, clinging harder to the bottle in your hands. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Stop being impossible,” he snaps, grounding out his cigarette in the ashtray before standing. “I’ll take you back.”

“Just like you took me back last night?” You demand, eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Why did you come, Keishin?”

“You were wasted, what else was I supposed to do?” He throws up a hand, smacking it on his leg before setting both hands on his hips. “Leave you there to black out and stumble home?”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” you counter. Your head is hurting even more now, the pounding enough to make your eyes hurt. “I’m asking why you’re being so nice to me.”

“I can’t be nice to you now?”

Frustration wells up inside you, your voice hoarse as you yell, “No, you can’t be nice to me because it’s sending me mixed signals!”

He doesn’t say anything, his dark eyes widening slightly before settling into that annoyed grimace you’ve come to know well.

“I’m hurting, Keishin, and these games aren’t helping.”

“I never—“ He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair with a frown. “I’m not playin’ games and I never meant to hurt you. It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like, Keishin?” You ask quietly.

Your heart feels like it might fall out of your chest, all that tequila you had last night threatening to make an appearance. A thousand thoughts run through your head, trying to guess what he’s going to say. Is he going to let you down easy? Going to tell you it meant something?

“I…” Ukai starts.

You’re rising higher than the clouds, chest tight in an anticipation—

“Let me take you home, girlie.”

—and then you’re careening off the side of the mountain, freefalling without a parachute.

You don’t trust yourself to say anything so you nod, blinking back tears as you turn away from him. Usually the motorcycle rides feel freeing, but this one is like a death sentence, like Ukai is driving you home and sealing your fate. You let yourself hold him, memorizing his musty scent, his firm body, and the sound of his bike one last time.

It feels like no time until you’re pulling into your parking lot and swinging your leg off the bike, unbuckling the helmet and taking a deep breath.

“Girlie—“

You don’t let him finish whatever he’s going to say. You don’t want to hear it—no, you can’t hear it.

“Goodbye, Keishin,” you whisper as you hand his helmet back, and you wait for him to take it before you turn on your heel and walk away.

Your phone sits empty of messages from Ukai the rest of the week, not that you expected any differently. You had said goodbye and he hadn’t responded (though you admittedly didn’t give him much time to respond). As much as you didn’t want it to, that meant the end, didn’t it? Your heart sinks into your stomach and refuses to go back to where it belongs the longer the days stretch on without him around.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up at the beginning. You try to tell yourself it was all just for fun, just like Ukai said, but your heart fractures little by little the longer Ukai doesn’t message you. You were a fool, weren’t you? It’s not like you’d agreed to any relationship in the first place, and you had been the one to invite him up to your apartment the first time without expressing your feelings.

Stupid. That’s the only word on your mind when you head into work the next Friday. You feel stupid; Ukai is stupid; it was stupid to move away from Tokyo and try to run away from your problems when they only repeated themselves in another town. You even agreed to go to another mixer this weekend but thinking about it at your desk afterwards just made you feel like shit. Everything is all so stupid.

It’s just before your lunch break when Risako approaches your desk, eyes wide as she stares at you.

“Security says a guy on a motorcycle is asking for you in the lobby.”

You look up at her in alarm. “What?!”

“Is it the guy from Friday? It looks just like him!”

There’s no fucking way. You leave behind her follow-up questions as you rush to the elevator, pressing the down button over and over in your anxiety. The ride feels like it takes forever, and you’re nearly sprinting out as soon as the door opens.

Ukai Keishin stands in the middle of your lobby, looking extremely out of place in a leather jacket in between the men in business suits. He isn’t holding onto his usual cigarettes but a carrier with coffee, and his usually pushed back hair is slightly styled and slicked out of his face.

“Hey,” is the only thing he offers as you stalk over, and you don’t even grace him with an answer before you’re tugging him out of the front door by his upper arm.

“Whoa girlie, calm down,” he chuckles, but his light-hearted demeanor only makes your frown deepen.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, eyes flicking down to the cardboard coffee carrier. “And… with coffee?”

“Shit, I don’t know, I thought you working types liked coffee or something.”

“Keishin,” you sigh, your anger still sizzling even though you know he’s trying.

“Look, I’m not good with words, okay?” He ruffles the back of his hair as he looks away before shrugging. “I thought about everything and you’re right.”

“Which part?”

“Oh, come on,” he grumbles. “You know which part.”

“No, I want you to say it,” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ve waited a long time for you to figure it out.”

“Fine,” Ukai grits out, setting the carrier by the tire of his bike. He takes a deep breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he explains, “My ex-wife… Hiroshi’s mom. She got pregnant in high school and I married her out of obligation, but she was a deadbeat. I practically raised that kid on my own since she was in and out so much, and we finally got divorced five years ago after she cheated on me one too many times.”

You aren’t sure what to say, so you give a pathetic, “Oh.”

In your silence, he continues. “So yeah, I played around a little bit because I didn’t want to settle down again. Lord knows I’m fucking bad at it.” He laughs mirthlessly, shrugging his hands from inside his leather jacket. “But… I dunno, you’re... sweet.”

“Sweet?” You try not to laugh at his description of you, biting down on your bottom lip to keep serious. “That’s it? After I kicked your ass at darts?”

“I remember it being more even.”

You have to swallow a laugh. “I’m going to kick your ass now if you don’t give me something else.”

“Look, I got a thing for you, alright? Is that what you want to hear?”

It’s cute how flustered he gets, his cheeks tinting pink before he turns away to hide it. He grumbles under his breath about annoying women but you don’t care one bit. You throw your arms around his shoulders, launching yourself into his arms. Ukai barely has time to catch you before you press your lips to his, but you can feel him smiling as he kisses you back. There are whispers around you, probably people you work with or know of, but you couldn’t care less, not when Ukai holds you to his chest and kisses you over and over, like he’s drinking you in and can’t get enough.

“Did you make up with Hiroshi?” You ask in between kisses, and it takes three more of them for Ukai to answer.

“Yeah, yeah. He won the pool competition, too.”

“Oh?” You run your fingers through the back of his hair, kissing him once, twice, before you follow up with, “Sounds like your son.”

“I’ll tell you about him,” he promises, kissing you one last time before tugging himself away. “Shit, you better get inside girlie, before I make you lose your job.”

“I could always get one at your place,” you giggle, punching his chest lightly.

He makes a sound of mock offense. “What was that for?”

“For being dumb. You deserve more if you ask me.”

“Yeah, well, you like me, so who’s the dumb one here?”

“Me,” you sigh as you punch him again, a grin stretching across your face. “So pick me up after work and take me on a date.”

“You know, if I would have known how demanding you are, I woulda never let you into my place,” he grumbles before shooing you off. “Get back to work.”

“6 o’clock,” you tell him as you pick up the coffee and flash him a smile. “Maybe afterwards, we can finish what we started on the pool table.”

His eyes flash before he grins and swings a leg over his motorcycle, turning the key to start the engine.

“See, that’s why I like you.”

You watch him drive off with a silly smile stuck to your face, imagining what this might turn into. With a start, you realize that a deep relationship with Keishin means you’d be becoming a stepmom to a kid close to your age. Jesus. The thought makes the smile slightly fall from your lips but you figure you can come to that when you get there.

Completely fixated on that new realization, you don’t notice that your co-worker has approached you, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Was that guy on the motorcycle your boyfriend?” Risako asks with raised eyebrows, a surprised smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

“Yeah,” you grin, letting the worries fade into the heat from just the memory of his kisses. “Yeah, it was.”

tagging: @hanayanetwork, @anime-central, @hqintheclub, @amarinthe, @erinoikawa, @betheydochaos, @lovelyunholyc, @miyarinrin, @tehehebri, @meanshiggy, @antique-remains, @bakarinnie, @eros-miya, @etoilezone, @chims-kookies, @jojowantstocry, @kellyyween, @sunaspillowprincess, @kittycatkrissa, @darth-papi, @scentedflower, @sleepy-demon-baby, @crystal-lilac, @inarizaki-manager, @TheHaplessFrog, @pazumane, @rosesandtoshi, @luna-vitae-suae, @ebiharachan, @crapimahuman, @savantsoulfinder, @Animehero666, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @callmeraids, @kemakoshume, @lazarusstorm, @bananabossbitch, @devilgirlcrybabiey, @abcdemporio, @hannas16, @rory-cakes, @chloee0x0, @dreeming-dree, @tomankitten, @osanoya, @tirzamisu, @icelyn20, @japanesevenom, @dakumarauder, @bakugobaki

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#by: meiansmistress #light reads #ukai x reader #ch: ukai keishin #f: fic #g: smut #kink: oral

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

Text

Greedy, Part One

mid-30s pool hall owner, biker tattooed!ukai keishin x mid-20s fem!reader 5.2k smut with too much plot, part one of two requested by @vivianvampyric warnings: quickie, spit as lube, spanking, ukai calls reader 'girlie' a shit ton

thank you to @anime-nymph and @vivianvampyric for beta reading this for me! <3

part one | part two | Asellus' 2022 Follower's Event

Even though you watch a bunch of dramas in your free time, you never expected your life to turn out like one.

New in town? Check. Getting lost while walking around? Check. Sudden rainstorm that wasn’t on the morning’s weather report? Check. Someone call the Screenwriter’s Guild because you somehow just became the lead actress in Saturday’s new hit show, ‘Lost in Miyagi.’

You stand under the awning of what looks like a bar, watching the rain pour down without a clue of what to do. It’s not like you know where you are, and there isn’t much to go on. Plus the bar isn’t open yet, and there are no lights on at the other businesses surrounding it. To add to the calamity of your life, water got into your phone and you turned it off for safe measure. In conclusion: you are effectively screwed.

You don’t know how long you stand there waiting for the rain to calm down, but eventually there’s a light rumbling in the distance. It takes a moment to register that it isn’t thunder, but the roar of a motorcycle headed your way. The headlight from the vehicle makes you squint when it pulls up into the parking lot to your right, and the driver swings off, their face covered by a sleek and wet black helmet.

It’s not like you can avoid them—you’re standing right in front of the front door, most likely looking like a drowned rat thanks to how you got caught in the storm earlier. Still, you avoid their face, looking straight at the fields across the street instead, ignoring how they stop close to your left.

You can see them shuffling and unbuckling their helmet, and then a mop of blonde hair falls from the helmet when it’s tugged over their head.

“Can I help you, girlie?” A deep voice asks, and you have to take a breath before turning your attention to them.

It’s a man. A very attractive man, his blonde hair flopping over his eyes, pushed back by one of his wet gloves. He’s got piercings all over his ears, and a curious grin on his face as he regards you.

“Um… it’s raining?” You offer lamely like it explains everything.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“I uh… don’t exactly know where I am.”

The man digs through his pockets as he laughs, “Figured. You don’t exactly look like the type to come to a pool hall.”

Pool hall? So it isn’t a bar? You blink at him curiously as he unlocks the top and bottom locks before pushing the door open. “Come in, I’ll give you a towel.”

You’ll need more than a towel to get back home but you’re not complaining. It beats being out in the rain and the chilly weather, a rarity for the late summer.

When you step into the building, you feel like you’ve been warped out of Japan. Signs and posters on the wall sport pictures of motorcycles, slogans and mottos written in English instead of Japanese. There are several pool tables, along with pinball machines and dart boards on the far right wall. The man throws his keys down on the bar to his left and gestures to you to follow him to a back room. You follow obediently, excusing yourself when you step inside, standing awkwardly in the doorway as the man fishes around in a locker in the middle of the room.

“Here.” A towel and a black t-shirt are suddenly thrown your way, and you fumble to catch both of them before holding them to your chest. “You shouldn’t wear a white t-shirt when it’s raining.”

You squeak loudly, cheeks flushing hot, and the man laughs as he turns away from you. “Hurry up and change then.”

“Um, thank you,” you say as you hurry to strip off your wet t-shirt, dry yourself, and slip his on instead. It’s much too big and not your style at all (do girls your age even wear shirts with motorcycles and Harley Davidson logos on them?) but you’re thankful to be dry and warm nonetheless. “I haven’t gotten your name.”

“Ukai. Ukai Keishin. You?”

It’s kind of funny, telling your name to the back of a handsome stranger who saved you, but you do anyway before saying, “You can turn around now.”

Ukai isn’t subtle as he turns back and scans his eyes up and down your body before shrugging. “Looks better on you than Takinoue.”

“Wait, this isn’t your shirt?”

“No, it’s mine, but that asshole steals my clothes all the time.” Ukai digs around in the locker for a black shirt, and you barely have time to turn away before he’s stripping, throwing his jacket and shirt haphazardly into the locker. “I’ll call him to come give you a ride home.”

“Oh, um, you… you don’t have to, I’m sure I can—”

“A cute girl like you, wearing a pleated skirt in the middle of the night, lost and in the rain? You’re asking for trouble, girlie. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a naive university student.”

“Excuse me! I’ll have you know—” You whip around to give him a piece of your mind before you come face-to-face with his abs as he tugs the shirt down. You pretend you weren’t ogling his firm body and were reading the “Moe’s Bar” logo on his shirt instead, cheeks flushing hot. Underneath the short sleeves you see tattoos covering every inch of his arms, swirls of designs of black lines and a myriad of colors, wrapping around his biceps and disappearing under the material.

“What?”

“I’m not a university student. I just moved here for work and got lost walking around.”

“Doesn’t change my point about your skirt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with pleated skirts,” you counter with a frown. “And who’s Moe? I thought your name was Ukai.”

“The American guy I bought this place from really liked The Simpsons,” Ukai shrugs and sets his hands on his hips. “Any other questions or demands, girlie? I got a bar to open and a co-worker to call.”

“No… no. But thank you.” You bow your head to him before you remember your half-dead phone sitting uselessly in your bra. “Wait, maybe a phone charger?”

“So is it no or yes on the demand?” He grins before gesturing out the door. “Get out, I’ll get you your charger.”

Ukai doesn’t just get you a charger—he also makes you an old-fashioned, and you sit at the bar, sipping on the drink as you watch him set up for the night. He flips over the chairs, makes sure chalk is on the pool tables, and wipes down the tables and stools before wandering back over. He checks his phone before digging into his pants’ pocket and lighting a cigarette.

“Takinoue’s in the doghouse so it’s gonna take a little bit. You can stay here ‘til then.”

“What did he do?”

“What didn’t he do?” Ukai laughs as he starts cleaning a few glasses and setting them on the bartop. “Half the time, I’m surprised his old woman’s still with him.”

“What about you?” You ask innocently, trying not to sound as eager as you feel inside. “Do you have an old woman?”

“Full of questions, aren’t ya, girlie?” Ukai grins as he takes a puff of his cigarette before exhaling away from you. “Nah, I’m as free as a bird.”

The information sits warm in your stomach, and you take a sip of your drink to pretend it’s heat from the alcohol instead.

“Is that a Lynyrd Skynyrd joke?” You ask from behind your glass. “You know, my dad—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Ukai groans and rubs his temples. “Please.”

You hide your amused smile behind a hand. “So this bar is yours now?”

“Yep, and it’s also about to open,” Ukai cuts you off as he finishes his cigarette and stamps it out in the ashtray. He doesn’t look annoyed with your constant questions; instead there’s an amused tilt to his lips like you’re entertaining him as he gets ready for business. “So make yourself useful and flip the sign, would you?”

You mumble an affirmative before doing as you’re ordered. It doesn’t even take five minutes before the first patron walks through the door. The second and third are next ten minutes after, and soon, the entire bar is packed with men with tattoos and denim vests and women with ripped jeans and boots. Now you understand clearly what Ukai meant about your pleated skirt. You stick out like a sore thumb between this type of clientele, but at least the people at the bar who make conversation with you are nice enough.

Ukai laughs, drinks, and smokes with his regulars, making it impossible to continue conversation with him. Eventually a younger kid takes his place, and Ukai gives you a nod before he ventures out to greet those around the pool tables and dart boards. It’s like a reunion: there’s loud cheers before arms get thrown over shoulders, and you don’t think you’ll ever forget Ukai’s name with how many people say, “Keishin, you sly dog, I’ll kick your ass at pool next time!”

It’s about thirty minutes later when you get bored enough to start walking around. You linger around the pool tables, too nervous to strike up conversation with the people who eye you as you do. You move over to the pinball machines, playing a quick game before taking a seat in front of the dart boards. There’s a couple playing—well, it’s more flirting than playing, really—but you watch as the man beats the girl anyway and she pouts as she walks off.

“You wanna play?”

Ukai’s voice startles you, nearly knocking you out of the chair. When had he slid up behind you? He gestures to a dart board with his head, a smoking cigarette in one hand and a sweating bottle of beer in the other. “Darts. You wanna play?”

“Oh, no, I’m okay.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll lose?” He grins as he takes a swig of his beer. “I’m undefeated against pretty girls.”

“Oh?” Your cheeks warm and you have to clear your throat to ward it off. That’s the second time he’s complimented you, and you’re pretty sure he’s just trying to fluster you. “I’d be careful, if I were you. I’m pretty good, especially against handsome men.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Ukai laughs. “Maybe if you come back.”

“I mean, I have to return your shirt,” you mumble, trying not to sound too eager at the thought of seeing him again. “So…”

“Nah, you keep it. Looks better on you.”

Does this mean he doesn’t want to see you again? The mixed signals he’s sending make your head spin, and you take a breath before your anxiety tries to decipher every little clue he’s sending.

“I couldn’t!”

“Not your style?” His little ribbing makes you flush harder, but then his phone vibrates in his pocket and quiets him. Ukai sets his cigarette in his mouth as he checks the message, then puts it back before taking a puff and exhaling. “Takinoue’s here. He’ll take you back.”

“Oh. Oh, um, okay.”

You push off of the stool and gather your things from the back room before you emerge to see Ukai talking with another tall blond man. A strange sense of longing hits you then. You don’t exactly want to leave. Ukai’s been welcoming and nice, more than you can say for your landlady or your apartment neighbors. Though the pool hall smells like beer and stale cigarettes, it’s the happiest and most included you’ve felt in a while, even when you arrived in town a few days ago. You can see why the place is packed on a Saturday, and it wouldn’t surprise you to see it packed every weekend.

“Girlie, come here.” Ukai calls you over with a wave, and introduces Takinoue to you as soon as you wander over. He claps his friend’s shoulder once the introductions are done and warns jokingly, “Don’t scare her too much, yeah? Your wife would kill me.”

“Not if she kills me first,” Takinoue answers jovially, but by the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, you suspect he’s still in the doghouse.

“See you around,” Ukai greets with a two-fingered salute. Then your blond-haired savior is gone, lost in a sea of smoke, motorcycle jackets, and animated voices.

It takes you nearly a week before you gather the courage to visit Moe’s Bar again. You washed his shirt and your wet shirt as soon as you got home, and left it drying on a hanging rack for the last few days. Your eyes wandered over to it way too many times to be a coincidence, especially with the way you looked up the pool hall on social media during your down time. It has a surprising presence and following, especially for the smaller town you moved to, and you find yourself staring at a picture of Ukai from the side more times than you would like to admit.

“Do you know Moe’s Bar?” you ask your co-worker Risako over lunch on Friday.

To your surprise, she scoffs.

“That American biker bar on the edge of town? It’s an eyesore. The city’s been trying to push them out.”

“Wait, really?” You blink in surprise. It was definitely not an eyesore when you visited it and everyone had been friendly. “Why?”

“The rumor is that it’s a front for the yakuza.”

“And you believe that?”

Risako’s voice drops to a whisper. “Have you seen the tattoos and motorcycles they have? It wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

I have! You want to yell, One of those guys helped me! But you keep quiet, mulling over how to answer professionally. If this were a friend, you’d be telling her to knock it off with her stereotypes, but as she’s technically your trainer, you can’t just tell her off in the middle of the lunch room.

After a while, you settle on, “Maybe we should go together to check it out? I’m sure it’s not that bad!”

“Pass,” your co-worker shrugs as she sets down her spoon. “Besides, tonight is the mixer! You’re single, right? Are you coming?”

You’d rather be caught dead than at one of those stuffy mixers, awkwardly holding your drink as boys fight to get in your pants. You make up some excuse to get out of it, and luckily she doesn’t press, but she does make you promise to come “next time.” As soon as work is over, you’re changing into something more fit for a pool hall, grabbing Ukai’s shirt, and hailing a taxi over to Moe’s Bar.

The place is already packed by the time you walk in, and you clutch your fingers tighter to the shirt as you look around. You don’t see Ukai yet, but you do see Takinoue (who must be out of the doghouse) playing pinball with a woman with long black hair. There’s people at every seat at the bar, so you wait your turn to order a drink before wandering around the room. The blond owner is nowhere to be seen, so you take a spot at an empty table near the dart boards, eyeing the empty game.

“Hey,” Takinoue greets as he slides up, setting an elbow on the table. “Nice to see you.”

“You too. I came to return Ukai’s shirt.” You point to the garment neatly folded on the other side of the table. “But I can’t find him.”

“He ran out to get some more ice for the bar. Do you want to play while you wait?”

Takinoue gestures toward the dart board, and you figure, why not? It’ll kill time while you wait for Ukai to show back up and give you a chance to polish off your skills. It’s been a while, but you beat Takinoue readily, which makes his partner laugh and the man sputter for a rematch. You win that one too, and that only brings another man over who challenges your win streak. He even bets money on the match—something you gladly take out of his hands when you beat him, too. You’re halfway through facing a third man with black hair and glasses (and about to win), when the squeak of a chair behind you catches your attention.

Ukai Keishin sits in the stool you once sat at, eyeing you with amusement. A cigarette hangs from his lips and his long, blond hair is pushed back with a black hair band. It sends your heart into a frenzy, and you have to clear your throat to make the dryness subside.

“What?”

“I heard someone was besting my friends at darts, and here you are.”

“I told you I’m good,” you tease. You take a second to throw your three darts, and the man next to you makes a sound of annoyance when you hit a bullseye. You turn back to Ukai with an innocent smile, “You didn’t believe me?”

“I didn’t think you’d come back.”

You want to ask him, “Why wouldn’t I?”, but then you remember what Risako said earlier: that the bar doesn’t have the best reputation and the town is trying to run them out. You puff out your cheeks instead, gesturing with one of the darts to his shirt on the table.

“I said I’d bring it back, and I don’t go back on my word, mister.”

“Clearly,” he laughs before smacking the table and standing up. “Beat Shimada already so you can face me next.”

“Kei!” The man protests, but it’s no use. Next turn, you hand him his loss and he hands you the bills he bet on the game.

You turn to Ukai with a playful grin and wave the blue bills in his face. “Are you going to bet, too?”

“Don’t want your money, girlie.”

“Then what would you like?”

His eyes run up and down your body quickly before he stamps his cigarette butt out, running his hand over his clean-shaven jaw. You can see him trying to hide a smile as he turns back to you.

“For you to wear something more fitting for my establishment.” You look down at your plain t-shirt and jeans, wondering what was wrong with your outfit, when he answers for you. “Maybe a shirt with a Harley Davidson logo on it?”

You know you should probably be creeped out by this. A near stranger openly ogling you, insisting you wear his shirt, inviting you back to his bar again. But with Ukai Keishin, you can tell it’s nothing like that—there’s a warmth in his words and on his face that is inviting and settles over you like a thick blanket.

“If you win,” you quip back. “But if I win, you have to take me for a ride on your motorcycle.”

Ukai hums as if he’s thinking about it before he holds his hand out, shaking on your shared deal. The game is a close one; Ukai wasn’t kidding when he said he was “undefeated against pretty girls”, giving you a run for your money. Takinoue, Shimada, and a few others hang around, watching you trade dart after dart, the scores close. But eventually, with one last dart to the outside ring of the bullseye, you clench the victory.

You can’t suppress the grin that rises to your face when you turn back toward Ukai. “I’m free next Saturday.”

The man chuckles, taking a swig of his drink before throwing up his hands in defeat. “I guess I will be, too.”

The wind is colder than you expected it to be, but Ukai’s leather jacket is warm and loose around your arms. You cling to him as he speeds down the highway, weaving in and out of lanes with a controlled freedom you’ve come to expect from the man. Eventually he turns off at an exit, going slower on the rural roads so you can take in your surroundings. It’s a blur of green rice paddies and colorful flowers until he eventually pulls into a small park and turns off the motorcycle.

He has to help you off, your legs unused to clinging to the side of a motorcycle, and he’s smirking when you take your helmet off.

“What?” You ask, suddenly self-conscious as he studies you. You wore his shirt today, knotted near the top of your frayed skinny jeans (that you’d bought on a whim earlier that week), Ukai’s jacket hanging off your shoulders as you fix the collar.

“Was it what you expected?” He grabs your helmet and swings them both over the handlebars before gesturing you to follow him.

“I mean, my legs hurt,” you lament as he takes you toward a bench by the edge of a small man-made lake. “And it was a little cold.”

“I can’t believe you showed up without a jacket,” Ukai laughs, and you nudge him with a playful frown.

“Don’t laugh at me, it was my first time.” Then you sigh, looking out to the calm water. “But it was really nice. Freeing. Wind whipping all around you, no cares in the world, that kind of thing.”

“Wow.” Ukai nods a few times before swinging an arm over the back of the bench. “Maybe I should get the mayor on the bike with me then.”

You purse your lips, unsure of what to say. You don’t want to pry and you can’t exactly bring up your co-worker’s rumor about the yakuza without saying you've been asking about the bar. The light breeze whips around you, rippling the water as you think of a conversation starter.

Eventually you settle on, “What made you want to buy Moe’s Bar?”

Ukai takes a breath before he tells you all about his life—barely finishing high school, working manual labor jobs in town, a little jack-of-all-trades. He found the pool hall in his late twenties and became a regular patron, helping out the Japanese-American man who ran the place. When he decided to move back to America to be with his family, he sold the bar to Ukai, and he’s run it for nearly a decade.

“Wait, you—you’re 36?!” You gape. He doesn’t look at a day over thirty, even with his chain smoking and drinking. “You’re kidding.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“No! I just thought you were my age. You know, mid-20s.”

“Been there, done that,” Ukai jokes as he swats the air. “What about you, girlie? Why’d you move here of all places?”

You tell him about how your job let you go and you found something in the countryside instead, willing to give it a shot. Tokyo had become too much for you: a bit too crowded, too expensive, too depressing thanks to your lack of friends or love life. You figured Miyagi might be a fresh start but so far, it’s been exactly the same.

“You know, maybe it wasn’t the best plan to come to a small town to try and find more friends.”

“I know,” you mutter, kicking at the grass beneath your feet, but thinking on Moe’s Bar and the man next to you, you’re quick to add: “I think I’m doing okay so far.”

“Yeah.” There’s a strange flint in Ukai’s eye, there and gone in a flash, making you think you imagined it. “Yeah, I think so, too.” Before you can ask him what he means, he slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright, let’s head back before you make off with another piece of my clothing.”

“Hey!” You call after him, his loud laugh warming your body, making it impossible to stay mad at him.

The ride back feels so much shorter, and it isn’t long before you’re back at your apartment complex and handing over your helmet. You start to shrug out of Ukai’s jacket, but don't hand it to him just yet. He blinks at you, leaning back in his seat, fingers tapping his helmet that sits in his lap. The setting sun reflects off the lens of the helmet and makes Ukai look even more handsome than usual.

“What’s up?”

“It’s almost dark out. If you want, I could make you dinner…?”

Ukai’s voice is awkwardly even as he questions, “Come up to your apartment?”

“Yes.”

He breathes out of his nose, hooking his helmet on the handle bar before fishing in his jacket. There’s a cigarette on his lips and a lighter in his hand in a flash, and his voice is calculated when he responds, “No thanks.”

Your heart sinks slightly, fingers clutching tighter to the leather jacket in your hands as you ask, “Why not?”

“Listen girlie, if I come up there, it’s not just going to be for dinner.”

“I know, that’s why I’m asking.”

Your blunt answer must surprise him because his eyes are immediately on you, the hand holding the lighter dropping to his side. It’s embarrassing, being so open about what you’re asking for. You’re both single, attractive, and obviously get along well enough that you want to see each other again, so why not? Dinner is always in the cards, but you also want everything that happens after—the moans, the scratches, the squeaks. All of it.

“You’re sure?”

Your response is more confident than you actually feel. “Yes.”

“Well, shit.”

He’s like lightning with how fast he drops the cigarette and lighter, swinging his leg off the bike. His fingers are cold from his leather gloves, but his lips are warm as they crash to yours. You drop his jacket at your feet so you can clutch your fingers in his shirt, pulling him close as his lips move against yours.

Ukai Keishin tastes like tobacco, something you always said you hated, but with him you find it intoxicating. One of his hands moves to your ass and cups, squeezing the flesh as he pulls you flush against him. His tongue is quick, circling against yours and pushing back when you try to overpower him. His hand on your neck tightens when you make a low sound, and he’s breathing heavily when he pulls away.

“Upstairs, now.”

The command sends a shiver down your spine, but you don’t listen to him. You lean up to kiss him again, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down. His chuckle vibrates against your skin and makes you smile as your tongues meet again, this time even faster, dirtier. Ukai’s hands grope at everything they can, ghosting over your ass, your thighs, your sides; you return the favor and pull his crotch against yours with a harsh tug to his belt loops.

You only remember that you’re standing in the middle of your complex’s parking lot when a car drives over some gravel. It makes you squeak and pull back, cheeks warm and growing even hotter at the hooded look on Ukai’s face.

“Upstairs,” you repeat, throat thick with desire.

You don’t remember picking up his jacket and fumbling to get to the elevator, feet carrying you too quickly to care about anything else, but you do remember Ukai on you the second you step inside. The doors are barely shut when he presses you against the back wall, the mirror shaking with how much force he uses. Your moan is swallowed by his lips and tongue, his hands openly groping all over your ass and tits, thigh pressed between your legs. You grind against him, tugging on his shirt to pull him against you.

The elevator dings and you pull him to your apartment, hurrying to unlock the door and step inside. You don’t even bother making it to the bedroom—your clothes are flung off in messy piles as he fishes in his jeans’ pocket for his wallet before kicking them aside. As soon as he finds the condom, the wallet is thrown to the side and you’re bent over the edge of the couch.

“Sorry, girlie,” he chuckles airily as he slides the condom on, and you crane your head back to see him spit in his hand before using it to lube up his hard cock. “Need to be in that pussy.”

“We can take it slow next time,” you groan, shaking your hips as a sign for him to get inside you already. “Just—”

“Next time, huh?”

The force he slams into you makes you lose your breath. It burns slightly from the lack of prep, but the way he stretches your walls as he shallowly thrusts in and out until he bottoms out makes you groan. He barely gives you time to adjust before he sets a quick pace, fingers tightening on your hips as he forces you to meet him. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your couch as he fucks you into it, your moans and whimpers echoing in your ears.

“God, fuck,” he whispers, and you cry out when he sends a hand to your ass, the sharp sound ringing in your apartment. The couch creaks when you match his pace, grinding against his harsh ruts to get him even deeper.

“Again,” you beg, one hand reaching back for him. You wrap a hand around his thigh, nails digging into his skin when he slaps the other cheek, just as hard and relentless. He alternates between cheeks as he slaps your ass again and again, until your flesh is hot and stinging oh so good.

Ukai shifts, angling you to hit just right, and you whine the second his fingers find your clit. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, fluttering as he rubs quick and harsh circles that send a hot streak up your spine. The slapping of his skin against yours and the soft groans that tumble from his mouth bring your orgasm quickly, and you’re barely able to warn him before you’re tumbling over the edge, fingernails digging so hard into his flesh that you hear him hiss. The intensity makes you light-headed, sweat dripping down your nose and chin as Ukai fucks you without abandon to reach his own peak.

You’re able to peek back at him just in time to see his face scrunch up, eyes tightly closed as he cums. God, he’s beautiful—thick lips parted, hoarse and deep voice groaning, hips tightly against yours, blond hair messy from the force of his thrusts. It’s a sight you want to see all the time.

He takes a second to catch his breath before his eyes pop open, and you whine lightly when he pulls himself from you.

“What, you want another round or something?” He chuckles as he ties the condom off and throws it in the small trash can in your kitchen.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no,” you counter as you right yourself. You stretch your back out before turning to him with a playful grin. “Unless you actually wanted dinner.”

“A guy needs energy, don’t you think?”

“Oh, and a girl doesn’t?” You joke as you pad toward the kitchen.

You don’t make it more than two steps past him before he grabs your waist, tugging you into his embrace. His body is hot and sweaty, breath even hotter against your ear as he murmurs, “No, you’re going to need all the energy you can get, girlie.”

With the way you can feel his cock twitching on the back of your thigh, you know he’ll keep his promise.

tagging: @hanayanetwork, @anime-central, @hqintheclub, @amarinthe, @erinoikawa, @betheydochaos, @lovelyunholyc, @miyarinrin, @tehehebri, @meanshiggy, @antique-remains, @bakarinnie, @eros-miya, @etoilezone, @chims-kookies, @jojowantstocry, @kellyyween, @sunaspillowprincess, @kittycatkrissa, @darth-papi, @scentedflower, @sleepy-demon-baby, @crystal-lilac, @inarizaki-manager, @TheHaplessFrog, @pazumane, @rosesandtoshi, @luna-vitae-suae, @ebiharachan, @crapimahuman, @savantsoulfinder, @Animehero666, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @callmeraids, @kemakoshume, @lazarusstorm, @bananabossbitch, @devilgirlcrybabiey, @abcdemporio, @antique-remains, @hannas16, @rory-cakes, @chloee0x0, @dreeming-dree, @tomankitten, @osanoya, @tirzamisu, @icelyn20, @japanesevenom, @dakumarauder, @bakugobaki

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#by: meiansmistress #light reads #ukai x reader #ch: ukai keishin #f: fic #g: smut #kink: spit #kink: spanking

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

Text

Pairing: Kenma x f!reader

Tags/tw: reader has hair long enough to run fingers through, story points to her being spoiled, implied kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, yandere, heavy pet play, oral sex, toy use (anal plug), “Kitten”, use of both “Master” and “Daddy”, timeskip spoilers

WC: 3.6k

A/N: Beta read by 💙 @meiansmistress + @vanille--kiss 💙 Just in case the tags were ignored, reminding you all that this is dark content. Merry Christmas Eve!!!

Cute shoes, jewelry, maybe a better phone.

A few years ago if someone asked you what you wanted for Christmas, that's probably what you would have responded with.

When you were younger, you remembered writing up your wishlists with all the toys you wanted. How you whined and cried to have all up-to-date technology and games, and as you got older the small gadgets turned into phones and nice cars.

As a teenager you would throw fits if you didn't unwrap name brand clothes or high-end accessories. You were so sure that those things would bring you happiness, but as you look around yourself now, you know you couldn't have been more wrong.

Materialistically, you want for nothing. You have closets—yes, closets—full of luxury clothes. Every color and style you could think of. Silks, satins, lace, lamé… everything from lush loungewear to things you've only seen on televised red carpet events. You have an outfit for every occasion, not that you'd ever need them of course. Nothing you wear is cheap. Even the simple sleep shorts and soft sweater you’re wearing now cost more than you'd ever gotten in a paycheck back home. You shudder to consider how much the gem-plated watch on your wrist and the delicate bands of silver on your fingers come to.

However much your clothes had cost is barely the tip of the iceberg compared to the house you now live in. The ceilings are high and every sound seems to echo throughout the large space. There are huge TVs, state-of-the-art game systems (both PC and console), a huge kitchen, a small but well stocked library, and even a personal service that will fetch anything you ask for. Anything except a conversation or a way out. There are plenty of things to keep your attention and keep you busy, but you still feel hollow. You spend all your free time sitting in your room. It’s the only place you have to yourself. It’s the only place where the eyes of the "security" stop following you. It feels safer but it’s far from ideal.

There’s really only one thing you want now.

Your room looks like something out of a romance movie. The “windows” stretch around the entire room, allowing soft light to pour across the large space. Today they’re looking out at a beautiful snowfall in the mountains—it must be December. You’d learned early on that the large HD screens would show you incredibly clear pictures of any outdoor scene you wished to see. Master said you should only see snow during the winter months, so that was the only way you can guess the seasons changing.

The bed is bigger than king size, something you didn't even know was possible until you stepped foot here, with lush, dainty, pink sheets made in a ridiculous thread count. It’s like sleeping on a cloud, but every night you sleep there only serves to make you feel small and lonely, by design you once suspected. You’re embarrassed by how well it worked, too. Every time your master steps into your room, you can't stop the warm rush of happiness that blooms in your chest at the sight of him, mewling happily for him as he graces you with gentle touches, so desperate for the contact. He always speaks kindly to you, offering you soft words of praise for being so good for him while he’s away.

Unless you weren’t good.

You shiver, remembering the last time you had upset him. How quickly those gentle hands of his had taken your face in a vice grip, leaving dark bruises that are still fading today. His soft spoken voice was unusually sharp and cutting as he spewed words that made the world cave in around you.

He’s all you really have, and you upset him. He hasn’t been by in a week, or so you think. Your watch is only decorative, and it’s hard to judge the time passing by the changing scenes on the TV screens. Food is placed inside your door twice a day, and you’ve eaten fifteen meals without him.

You really hope Master will come back soon.

You look back to the snowfall, watching how the wind picks up and the flurries grow denser. Last year if someone asked you what you wanted, you might have asked to see the sky, or smell fresh air again. To see your friends or your family. All you wanted back then was to go home, your freedom.

But that was last year.

The door handle to your room turns with a soft click and you perk up. The staff are always much louder, less considerate when opening your door. A soft entry could only mean—

"Master!" You cry joyfully, throwing yourself out of the bed as the familiar loose black bun comes into view. "You're back! I missed you so much, I'm so sorry! Please don't leave me again, I'm sorry I'm—"

Before you know it you're bawling. On your knees, your arms wrapped around one of his legs, fat salty tears soaking into his pants as you cling to him desperately. After days of being alone, the endorphin rush that comes from seeing him again has you high strung and your emotions are balanced on the edge of a knife.

"Oh, Kitten," Kenma sighs, "you really missed me, didn't you?"

You whimper your affirmative, lifting your head to see his face. Warmth rushes through you when you see his smile, see him gazing at you so fondly. He isn't angry with you anymore.

"Back to the bed, kitten."

You're quick to do as he says, eager to keep him happy. He follows you, sitting down and patting his lap, which you climb into, practically purring and letting out happy sounds as he runs his fingers through your hair and scratches your scalp gently. Master is in a very good mood today.

"Daddy bought you something," he murmurs, cupping your chin and raising it.

Your eyes light up. You’re only allowed to call him that when he thinks you’re being good. "You did?"

"Mhm." He slips a slim box out of his pocket and offers it to you, watching carefully as you take it and hold it delicately. "Thought you might be missing the one you broke."

You flinch upon remembering your tantrum. Every now and then you have bad days where you won’t behave and be a good kitten for him. Master says they’re normal, and that the punishments will help them go away for good. You hate those days. All you want is to be good for him; upsetting him makes your heart ache.

The smell of leather greets you upon opening the box, and you let out a delighted gasp. "Oh, Daddy! It's so pretty, did you really get this for me?" You turn, wide, round eyes on him, letting all your adoration shine through them.

Kenma smiles, "Of course, kitten. Want help putting it on?" He laughs softly as you nod impatiently, lifting your chin even further to give him better access.

Once the smooth leather circlet is secured around your neck, you wriggle in his lap excitedly. "Can I go look?" At his nod you shoot out of his lap, skipping over to the full length mirror to study how it looks on you.

You love how the red leather of the collar seems to pop against your skin, the silver buckle and various rings contrasting beautifully, but it’s the silver plate placed right over the column of your throat that really catches your eye. There’s an engraved inscription in an elegant looping script. It reads: _____

You whirl around, pouting as you return to his side. "This was really expensive, wasn't it?"

"Only the best for you, you know that." He pulls you back into him, smoothing his hands down your sides and placing a gentle kiss under your jaw. "Alright, Daddy's gotta go now."

"No!" You can't stop yourself, throwing yourself into his lap once more and hugging him tightly. Your tears start anew as you cry into his shoulder, mumbling over and over that you miss him and don't want him to go. "You just got here!"

"I can't stay, kitten," He says soothingly, pleased by the progress he's seeing with your attachment. "I've got a livestream tonight, it can't wait."

At those words you perk up hopefully. "Can I come with you? I can help like I used to. Please let me help you, Daddy!"

Kenma's eyes darken appreciatively. "Hmm. I don't know. It's been a long time since you've done that," he muses thoughtfully, but your eyes glow when you see that he's at least considering it. "Do you remember the rules?"

"No talking!" You chirp immediately, beginning to bounce in pre-celebration. Of course you remember his rules, reciting them with ease. "No noise or moving during any sponsor announcements—"

His eyes are half-lidded, enjoying your eager compliance.

You continue, "—and Daddy cums first. Then if I want to feel good, I have to ask. I can't cum until the camera is off."

"Good girl," Kenma purrs, gracing you with a soft kiss on the lips that makes your heart flutter, flushing with pride. "Go get dressed then kitten, make yourself pretty for me."

"Can I keep wearing this?" You ask shyly, running a finger over the words on your collar tag. The beginnings of arousal stir low in your stomach as he grips your hips instinctively, eyes a glowing molten gold.

"Yes."

You happily jump up, shamelessly stripping in front of his lustful gaze before slipping into your closet to ponder what to put on. You're drawn to a particular outfit that you know he loves. Normally Daddy only lets you wear this one to bed, but you think he might like it now.

Just to be sure, you step out of the closet to show him and ask for his approval. "What about this one?"

The sound of approval he gives makes you shiver with delight, standing still as he approaches you slowly, eyes roaming how the sheer material of the camisole floats over your body, stopping right at the tops of your thighs, one hand teasing the material just above your hips.

"Perfect," he hums, a low husk to his tone. "Don't forget the rest."

Obediently you dash back into the closet for your gloves, tail, and the headband with the fluffy pink cat ears, which he places on your head the moment you hand them to him. He's gentle but firm as he straps the velcro cuffs around your wrists tight enough that they won't fall off. With these it’s like you have giant fluffy paws and you can't use your hands very well or splay your fingers while they’re on, but they always seem to make Kenma very happy so you didn't mind too much.

When he brings out the leash, you instantly drop to your knees and let out a sweet mewl, to which Kenma coos softly. "Such a good kitten, you remembered. Kittens don't talk. Now, you know what’s next—"

You’re already on all fours, ass in the air by the time your daddy kneels besides you, a lubed finger probing your hole. You gasp and mewl as Kenma attentively but quickly stretches your hole enough before replacing his fingers with the object in his other hand.

You love your tail. It’s cute and fluffy and it matches your ears, and the amount of attention your daddy lavishes you with when you wear it is enough to keep you sated and buzzing for days.

“Ah!” You whine as it finally slides in, thick and snug deep in your ass.

“Careful, that almost sounded human.” Kenma’s warning is paired with a pointed tug on the pink tail, making you whimper apologetically. “You promised to be good.”

You give him wide eyes and another mewl, and his golden eyes soften as he stands. A gentle click sounds and a red leash is attached to your new collar; it matches perfectly. You’re only given a moment to admire it and then you're following him out of the room as he takes you to his recording studio.

You lower your eyes, mildly embarrassed each time a maid passes by, but they keep their eyes firmly forward as Kenma tugs the leash to keep you moving. Your shyness doesn't stop the pleasurable flush you feel when you remember how much he likes to show you off like this. You can't hate it when you know it makes him happy.

But you don't pass anyone else and Kenma opens the door, leading you in and instructing you to go under his desk. You do, and listen to the quiet whirs as he flicks on his monitors and consoles, checks his lights, and situates the camera before taking his seat. He doesn't offer you any instructions because he knows you don't need them.

He sits down in his chair and you shift to make space for his legs so you're both comfortable. He spreads them and you crawl between them, resting your cheek on his clothed thigh to wait. His streams always start with a welcome message followed by a short thank you message to his sponsors, so there’s no point in starting now.

Kenma smiles down at you, giving your cheek one last loving caress that you soak in with an almost dazed delight, before switching the stream live. "Welcome back to another stream with Kodzuken. Today we'll be continuing the campaign from last week, but first I'd like to take a moment to—"

You allow your eyes to flutter closed, his soothing voice washing over you. The warm feeling of endearment begins to fade as the sounds of his opening announcements end and the sounds of gameplay fills your ears. It’s replaced with hot excitement for what you’re about to do instead.

Your daddy had told you once that the challenge of keeping still and quiet while his kitten pleasures him makes his streams better. He always gets more views because his normally passive face would grow intense and concentrated, and it makes his fans go crazy. Plus, it’s a fun test for him to play well under pressure.

So with hands shaking with adrenaline, you start reaching for daddy's cock only to remember that you can't use your hands with the fluffy kitten paws. You'll have to use your mouth because Kenma can't help you. With determination you begin licking the front of his sweatpants and rubbing your cheek against his slowly hardening cock to at least start showing him how much you want to make him feel good.

It doesn’t take long for him to be straining against the fabric. When a mix of your saliva and his precum forms a wet patch on the front of his pants, you feel Kenma's thighs close around your neck for a moment. You understand immediately his silent "get on with it" so you carefully and laboriously use your teeth to tug his sweats down his legs, and he inconspicuously shifts to allow you an easier time of it. When they’re partway down his thighs, you press a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh in thanks before eagerly inhaling the scent of his manhood.

The slightly sweaty, but familiar clean scent of him makes your mouth water and you lean forward to run your tongue up the underside of his stiff length before sucking lightly on the sensitive skin of his balls, making his cock pulse against your face. Stifling a giggle, you suck one of them into your mouth, laving your tongue against it before letting it pop free. You feel your body growing hot as his thighs tense on either side of your head, knowing that you’re making your daddy feel good.

You wrap your lips lightly around the tip of his cock, poking your tongue into the weeping slit and lapping at the salty precum leaking from the tip. Elation surges through you at the soft "fuck" that Kenma bites out, wondering if it was you or the game causing the gamer to curse, wanting to believe it was you. You sink lower, making sure to keep your teeth wrapped in your lips as your tongue traces the veins on his length, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head slowly.

Your other hole clenches around the plug of your tail as your cunt flutters around nothing, mind clouding as your arousal grows. You want nothing more than to crawl in your Daddy's lap and sink down on his cock, but you stay focused as you feel his length begin to enter your throat. It takes a lot of concentration to stay silent when he’s this deep. Sometimes it will jump and trigger your gag reflex, and that’s always bad because you can’t keep quiet when you’re coughing. Your eyes widen when his knee bounces twice, signaling for you, mentally cursing the timing as Kenma begins to speak. You remain completely still, knees starting to ache as his cock pulses in your throat. You can feel his warm precum sliding down your throat, closing your eyes as you try hard not to swallow in case it messes him up.

"—and don't forget to use my discount code KK10 to get a 10% discount for your next purchase. Okay back to it, on this difficulty setting, the next level will get really nasty."

Biting back a moan of relief, your thighs rub together as you begin sucking in earnest. Harder levels mean you can go harder, any huffs or curses Kenma let out would be seen as noises of frustration at his game, not the toe-curling pleasure his kitten is giving him.

You lose track of time, lost to the feel of his length throbbing on your tongue. Just when you start to wonder how much longer you can keep up, you feel his hips begin to shake and pride courses your veins, tinged with hot impatience. You’re soaked, slick stickying your thighs as it seeps down the doughy flesh. You want nothing more than to reach down and rub your poor clit and make yourself feel good but you knew better—Daddy cums first.

A surprised huff slips past your lips, stretched tight around his cock, as he suddenly sits forward, thrusting his length deep into your mouth, and you hope the small gag goes unnoticed. There's no time to think about it as his cock begins to jump in your throat. Several long spurts of thick cum shoot down your throat but some of it still spills past your lips.

"Shit! I died," Kenma grumbles, slumping back in his chair. From this angle he’s able to see how the cum and drool slides down your chin, to see the bright smile you give him as you lick your lips. He’s also able to see the pleading eyes you give him as you tilt your hips back to show him how wet you are.

In response, he slides one of his legs between yours, eyes going back to the screen. With a relieved sigh, you begin to grind your hips down on his leg, eyes nearly rolling back at the sweet friction it provides. In lieu of the whimpers that you want to let out, you bite into the material of his sweatpants to make sure any sounds you make are too muffled for the cameras to pick up.

You’re practically humping his leg, uncaring about the pool of your arousal soaking through Kenma's clothes, drooling as the sweet pressure makes heat rush throughout your body. The pace of your hips begins to shake and stutter, your mind growing fuzzy as the pleasure threatens to snap and wash over you. You want to cum so bad, back arching as you forcibly stop your hips from moving. Any more movement and you know you'll cream all over his leg.

Desperate for a distraction, you lift your head and suckle on his still half-hard cock, eagerly licking away the remnants of his orgasm.

Kenma hardly refrains from jumping in his chair as you tease his over-sensitive member, loudly proclaiming to his viewers that he'll be taking a short break to rehydrate. "Back in a few everyone!" he says with a smile, activating the standby function.

Instantly, he's dragging you out from beneath the desk, and your eyes widen fearfully, hoping you haven't messed up. "But Daddy, what about your..." you mumble, panting as he positions you on the floor, sprawling you on your back.

"I told them I was rehydrating, didn't I?"

His breath blasts over your throbbing clit, slapping it lightly and making you mewl and arch into his touch. "And kittens don't talk." He reminds you sternly and you nod, eyes round and filled with gratitude as his tongue slides between your folds, dipping teasingly at your entrance, grateful that he is taking care of your aching pussy, head dropping back with a loud cry.

This year there’s nothing on your wish list. You have your daddy, and he gives you whatever you need. What else is there to wish for?

Networks: @anime-central @hqintheclub

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#by: anime-nymph #dark reads #kenma x reader #ch: kozume kenma #f: fic #tw | yandere #tw | kidnapping #tw | stockholm syndrome #kink: pet play #kink: toys #kink: pet names #kink: daddy kink #kink: master kink

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

Text

Last Happiness

All you want is to feel like a normal girl, free of the limitations of being princess. A chance meeting with the capital's local carpenter Shuugo Meian gives you that opportunity, so you won't let it go, no matter what.

pairing: fantasy au!carpenter shuugo meian x (fem) princess!reader length: 9.2k, nsfw (18+, mdni) warnings: slight manhandling, birth control mention, creampie, oral (m!, f! receiving), 69, maybe slightly bittersweet notes: written for Anilysium's Winter Collab and @introloves' Once Upon a Time collab! thank you to: @vanille--kiss and @anime-nymph for betaing and helping me with this monster <3 i'm back on my 5k+ bullshit hehe

happy late winter solstice everyone!

The kingdom is beautiful in the winter. Snow settles on the tops of the trees outside your window, blanketing the streets in a cold white wonderland. Townspeople wear their fuzzy coats and gloves, laughing as they traverse through town with their wares, while children play with their friends, throwing snowballs and making snowmen. There are torches lit up around the paths, lighting the way into town and offering a welcome to everyone—townsfolk and traveler alike.

Well, everyone except you.

Because you’re only allowed to watch them from your castle room, staring longingly out the window for a chance to experience the capital city for yourself.

You can understand your father’s reservations. As the only princess, it’s your duty to focus on your etiquette classes and training to become the proper wife to a neighboring prince. Trips into town are reserved for special occasions, such as parades or speeches, which means you don’t get out of the stone castle too often. You usually do these things without complaint, believing that it’s all for a far off future that won’t happen until your father or mother are on their deathbed.

Only that idea came to a screeching halt this morning.

“We will be welcoming a suitor for you soon,” your father had said over his morning coffee, making you pause as you were about to take a bite of your breakfast.

“I’m… sorry?”

He looked at you over his wired spectacles, a soft smile on his face. “I believe you’ll like him. He is from the neighboring kingdom of Fukurodani. His father is growing older and now is the time for him to take the throne.”

His family. Why did you never think of that? Your future husband’s family could have been the one who was sick instead of your parents. That far off fantasy was quickly becoming a reality, the idea shifting into a knife that plunged into your idealistic hope that you wouldn’t be married for quite some time.

“But… the solstice party,” you objected.

The solstice party was one of the largest in the kingdom, allowing aristocrats and wealthy families to mingle with your royal family for one of the only opportunities of the year. You were always required to play the part, smiling at guests as you flitted around the ballroom in your best gown, bashfully accepting their compliments about how beautiful you had become. It was the same every year, a show to keep those your father deemed important enough happy with his rule.

“He will come after the solstice festivities,” your mother agreed, her smile just as warm. You hated it. “Speaking of, the tailor will be here tomorrow for your gown fitting.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. It was all too much too quickly. You finished your breakfast before excusing yourself to your room, sitting in front of your favorite window to watch the outside world.

As you watch them, you wonder if they know how lucky they have it. You’re sure anyone would say the same about you. You’ve been blessed with anything you could dream of, and yet you’re still selfishly unsatisfied. You’ve never been able to make a decision for yourself, or even leave the premises without someone attending to you. Meanwhile, they can play in the falling snow with their friends (a concept that you barely understand, if you’re honest) without a care in the world.

A decision. That’s all you want—a chance to do something for yourself for once, without the limitations of your father’s expectations. Glancing around your empty room, a wicked plan starts to form in your head. You don’t have any classes today and often spend the afternoons in your room reading books. If you call your attendant off, it wouldn’t be difficult to slip out of the castle without being detected… would it? There’s a rarely used passage close to your room that leads out to the back stables. If you leave from there, you could walk around the palace and slip out via the grove of trees in front of the stone gate.

It’s crazy, it’s dangerous, but it’s also everything you want, so you’re willing to risk it. You’re on your feet in a moment, searching frantically for a dress that won’t give away your royal status. There are only two, and you pull one out, along with one of your thick white cloaks so you won’t be too obvious. When you’re ready, you take a seat at your desk to pretend you’ve been reading and call for your attendant.

Kiyoko Shimizu walks into the room immediately, bowing her head before asking, “Is there something you need?”

“Could you bring me some tea and a sandwich? That will be all I will need until dinner,” you answer stoically. You make sure to thumb the page of your book so she gets the hint that you want to be left alone.

She bows her head and leaves the room, leaving you stewing in your anxiety until she returns. You map out the route you’re going to take approximately four times, checking out the window to make sure there are no guards where you’re planning to hop the gate, then settle back in your chair, tapping your feet against the floor. Eventually, Kiyoko returns with a teapot on a tray and enough sandwiches to last a whole week.

“Kiyoko, I didn’t need this many,” you laugh as she sets down the tray next to your book, but she only shakes her head with a smile.

“I know how you get when you enjoy a book. You’ll eat them.”

Even though she’s your age, Kiyoko has been your attendant for years now, growing up with her family taking care of yours. She’s the closest thing you have to a friend, but it’s still strange how well she knows you, maybe even better than you know yourself.

“Thank you,” you answer gratefully, then to make sure she doesn’t come back, add: “I’ll call on you if I need you again.”

“Of course.”

Kiyoko bows her head, and as soon as she leaves the room, you move. You pour yourself a cup of tea then throw it out the window to make it look like you had a cup. Then you take a scarf from your closet, carefully wrapping up more than half the sandwiches to make it look like you ate. You flip to the middle half of the book and leave it face down, so just in case Kiyoko comes in, you can make it look like you went to the bathroom or for a walk around the castle.

As soon as you change into the dress (that’s a little too small, though you’re not surprised with how long it’s been since you’ve worn it) and shrug the coat on, you grab your sandwiches and slip from the door. There’s no one in the hallway as you slip down, moving downstairs to make it toward the back hallway. It’s colder than you thought it would be when you make it outside, but that doesn’t stop you from pushing forward into the grove of trees to make it to the gate. You carefully climb over the wall, checking to make sure no one saw you before taking off.

The town is a bit further than you remember, but you don’t care at all. No one even notices you slip into the crowd of townspeople as they go about their business, talking about people you don’t know and some party that is quickly approaching. You eavesdrop with a smile, happy to just feel like a normal girl for once. The town is much different than it is from your usual carriage. Now you can actually wander through the snowy streets, looking at the displays of books, bread, chocolates, and toys in the shops that make up the city.

It’s a shop full of different woodworks that makes you stop. Through the window, you can see different toys, trinkets, furniture making up the little shop. But it’s a small jewelry box that catches your eye. The wood is stained dark, gold paint lining grooves in the wood that are carved into intricate designs. There’s a gold lock on the front, the rectangular button turned so you can’t see the inside. It’s beautiful, and you don’t realize you’re staring with your hand on the window until someone behind you clears their throat.

“Do you like that box?”

“Oh!” You jump back, a puff of white air rising when you exhale in surprise.

Standing next to you is one of the handsomest men you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s tall, black hair slicked back and littered with snowflakes as they fall from the thick clouds. His dark eyes are filled with curiosity as he stares down at you, and you can’t see his lips thanks to his red scarf, but you’re sure they’re quirked up in a grin. He’s big too, his jacket tight against his frame, gloved hands holding onto a small box under his arm.

“Do you like it?” He asks again when you don’t answer. His voice is as smooth as silk, deep and sending your cheeks flooding with heat.

“Um, yes,” you answer breathlessly. All those years of training to be the perfect hostess and wife, and one admittedly gorgeous man makes you forget all about it. Get it together. You clear your throat, giving him a smile. “Yes, it’s beautiful. The crafter did an amazing job. I’m curious if the inside is as gorgeous.”

“Why don’t you look?”

He tilts his head toward the door before pushing it open. The bell at the top of the entryway rings when he steps inside, and you follow. The workshop is warm and inviting, smelling like wood and trees from the forest, but part of you is still tentative. Can he really walk in and touch it? Won’t the owner be mad? The man sets down his items and takes off his scarf, throwing it over top. When he saunters over to the jewelry box, you call out to stop him.

“Wait! I think we should wait for the owner to come back.”

“He won’t mind,” the man laughs, and you forget all your objections.

He hands you the box so you can feel it for yourself. You hold it in your hand with the scarf full of sandwiches, your free hand tracing over the gold paint in the divots on top. You look up at him for permission, and he nods once. With careful fingers, you undo the lock in the front, opening the lid so you can glance inside. It’s lined with black velvet, the inside empty, but there is a small mirror on top that shows your flushed complexion from the cold. It’s a beautiful little box that for some reason is calling for you to buy. Except—

“Do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful,” you gush, closing the box again, carefully so you don’t damage anything about it. “I wish I could buy it, but…”

He tilts his head. “But?”

“I, um, didn’t bring any money with me,” you admit as you try to hand the box back. “I only brought sandwiches…?”

“Sandwiches.” The man’s thick eyebrows crinkle as he looks down at your scarf and back up to your face. Then he starts laughing, placing a fist over his mouth and clearing his throat to ward off more chuckles. “Are they good sandwiches?”

“My—” You pause. You can’t say your attendant or it will be too obvious. He hasn’t recognized you yet—at least you don’t think he has—so you have to be careful. “—sister,” you finish with a smile. “She made them for me. They’re very delicious.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal,” the man says as he gestures for you to follow him deeper into the workshop. You hold onto the box as you do, waiting for him to clear a space at a table so you can set it down. He gestures for you to take a seat, which you do with a quiet thank you. “I’ll let you have the box if you share your sandwiches with me.”

“What?” You gasp, wide eyes on him as he sits across from him. “I couldn’t!”

“I want you to have it.” His smile is dazzling as he starts to unbutton his jacket. “I like my works to go to a good home.”

You go speechless for a moment. He’s the owner and maker of all of these woodworks? The man slips his jacket off and you see how big he really is, his yellow sweater tight against his bulky frame. You set the box down on the table before you, then set the scarf full of sandwiches next to it.

“I still don’t think that’s a good trade… isn’t it expensive?”

“Then your name,” he answers back with a smile that sets your cheeks aflame. “That’s a good payment, too.”

You murmur your first name for him, suddenly shy at how he’s smiling at you, and he nods a few times.

“My name is Shuugo. Shuugo Meian.” Then he gestures toward your scarf. “Let’s see if your sister’s sandwiches pass the test.”

Meian is easy to talk to, and you find yourself listening to his stories about life in the city. He easily accepts your fake story about moving in with your sister but being from Fukurodani. You spend hours talking with him, enraptured by even the little things, like going to the market during a snowstorm or drinking with his neighbors and friends.

The sandwiches are long gone, but the tea he brewed steams in the cup in front of you as you chat. It’s only when the door chimes and the Baker comes in looking for a new cutting board do you realize that it’s much too late, and if you don’t hurry, then you’ll be caught red-handed.

“Thank you for the tea and chat,” you say hurriedly as you slip your coat back on and grab your scarf. “I must be going to help my sister with dinner.”

You’re already halfway to the door when Meian calls you back. “Your box.”

“No, really, I couldn’t. The sandwiches weren’t enough payment.”

“I want you to have it,” he insists. You can’t avoid him when he grabs your hands and places the box inside. Your cheeks blaze with the contact and grow even hotter with the happy look on his face. “I know you’ll take care of it.”

“I’ll come back,” you breathe as you cling to the box. “With payment. I promise.”

“Forget it. Use the money to buy gloves,” Meian says. He still hasn’t let go of your hands, looming close enough that you can feel his warmth. “Maybe a new dress that’ll better fit your beauty.”

How embarrassing. It’s not like you don’t have any of those things. You just didn’t want to make it obvious so you didn’t bring gloves. Between his compliment and his playful rebuff, you’re a big mess. You squeak an affirmative before Meian ushers you to the door, sending you home with a warm hand on the back.

You wrap the box in your empty scarf and hurry back as fast as you can. The wind whips your cheeks as you hop the gate and scurry back to your room, and you’re out of breath when you make it up the stairs. Your heart nearly stops when you see Kiyoko heading for your room from the opposite end of the hallway. You call out to her to make her stop, shuffling the box covered behind your back.

“Is it time for dinner?”

“Yes, miss.” She glances curiously at what you’re hiding, but you only smile and ward her off.

“I’ll change and come down. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“I can—”

“No, no, it’s okay! Go help, I’ll be down soon!”

You race into your room before she can speak again, shutting the door behind you. You make sure she doesn’t follow before you bring the box out, setting it on your desk next to your still folded book. Your fingers trace the lock as you stare at it, your heart fluttering wildly as you remember the smile of the man who gave it to you.

“Shuugo Meian,” you whisper.

The box doesn’t answer, but for some reason, you can hear his happy laugh ringing in your mind anyway.

You know it’s dangerous, pulling the same stunt you did a few days prior so you can sneak out of the castle again. It’s not snowing today, but it is cold, so you make sure to slip your gloves in the waistband of your undergarments. You remember what Meian told you clearly: spend the money on real gloves and a pretty dress. You don’t need any of that—the dresses and accessories littering your room attest to that clearly—so you decided to use that money to pay Meian back for the box. It sits in your dresser where only you know about, allowing you to run your fingers over the top whenever you think about him.

Just after lunch, you call off Kiyoko, don your best dress, make sure you have your gloves and money pouch, and slip out the back of the castle once more.

There’s a pep in your step that you know isn’t just from the thrill of sneaking out again. It’s because of the carpenter you’ve been dying to see for the past few days. The tea time replayed over and over in your mind, his soothing voice and warm smile appearing even in your dreams. No one had treated you so gently; no one had been so kind in offering their wares to a total stranger. You wanted to get to know him better, even if it meant the chance that someone found out you were leaving your confines. To you, it was a risk worth taking.

Your first stop isn’t the workshop, but the bakery to buy bread to share, if Meian is available. Your heart flutters as the baker wrapped up the small cakes you purchased, and you’re careful as you carry them over toward Meian’s workshop. This time you don’t linger outside. You walk straight in, the bell ringing over your head as you duck in.

The grinding of a saw overpowers your quiet, “Hello?”

Meian stands near the rear of the shop, carving a piece of wood with a long handsaw. He doesn’t acknowledge that he heard neither you nor the bell, so you carefully pad over so you don’t scare him with your presence. It takes a minute, but when he stops sawing, you clear your throat to announce yourself.

The way his face lights up at the sight of you nearly takes your breath away.

“You bought gloves,” he jokes as he sets the saw aside. His gloves come off next, then his apron, until he’s only standing in his tight shirt and pants.

“I always had gloves, you know,” you retort playfully as you take a step forward. Being with him again is so nerve-wracking because he looks so handsome as he leans against his workbench, arms crossed over his chest. “I just didn't bring them last time.”

“Looks like you brought something else, too.”

He motions to the wrapped up cakes in your hands, so you set them on an empty space on the table. You take off your coat and set it aside so you can fumble for your coin pouch around your waist, digging inside.

“I, um, I brought payment for the box, too. It’s too beautiful for me not to buy it, so…”

You hold out a palmful of gold coins, and Meian stares at them strangely before reaching out. When his fingers touch yours, your heart skips a beat in your chest, but he only closes your hand into a fist and shakes his head. He doesn’t let go of your hand even as he speaks.

“I told you I didn’t want your money.” Then he grins, pushing off the table so he can come closer to you. “You bought a new dress though.”

“Did it work?” You ask breathlessly, staring up at him as he keeps hold of your hand. He’s close enough that you can catch a waft of his scent—musty pine wood, most likely from the wood he continuously works with.

He tilts his head at you curiously. “Did what work?”

“You said to wear a dress that will fit my beauty,” you recant, a slight shake in your words that betrays the confident facade you’re trying to maintain. “Did it work…?”

He laughs, joyfully, loudly, echoing in the workshop like it echoed in your mind the past three days. “I’d say it did,” Meian grins, squeezing your hand before finally letting go. “You’re even prettier than I remember.”

The honest compliment throws you off-guard and you squeak an answer, too flustered for anything else. You fuss over the cakes instead, requesting that he bring tea like last time so you can eat together. He obliges, taking his time so you can unwrap the cakes and set them up. When he’s done, you take a seat across the table just like you did three days ago.

Conversation flows easily, but you’re careful not to tell him specific details about your life. You never outright lie, but you fudge some details—Kiyoko becomes your sister, your palace becomes a cottage in Fukurodani, your job becomes a student at an etiquette school. When Meian asks what you’re doing in this kingdom, you fumble for an answer.

“I came for the solstice!” The lie makes a perfect excuse, as the party is quickly approaching, as much as you hate it.

“Oh, then you heard about the celebration?” Meian asks, a wicked glint in his eye that tells you he’s not talking about the stuffy ballroom party you’re used to. “Will you come?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know…”

Meian taps the handle of his tea cup with a hum, leaning back in his chair before stating, “I’d like you to come.”

“I…”

Your throat is dry with regret. You want to go with him, you really do, but you know you can’t sneak out of the palace in the middle of the ball. Not without a valid excuse anyway, and you’re sure that ‘I have a crush on the carpenter in town’ won’t be enough for your family. Your mind whirls with the need to come up with an excuse, but then Meian’s confidant expression cracks the tiniest bit and your heart plunges into your stomach.

“If I ask you to attend with me… would you?”

Yes, yes, a million times yes, you want to shout but somehow contain the buzzing in your veins. Instead, you try a different approach.

“Are you sure you want to go with me?”

“Why would I not?” He grins. “A pretty girl on my arm will make everyone jealous, won’t it?”

“You’re doing it for jealousy, then?”

“Wait, no, I only meant—”

You giggle at his flustered response, and the tension in his shoulders dissipates slightly.

It’s a bad idea, and you know it. Meeting more people in town means your story will get more convoluted. You might meet his friends, his neighbors, and grow more intertwined into his life. It will be hard to keep up the constant lies, hard to find someone who doesn’t know who you are or what you look like. You’re already lucky enough that Meian hasn’t guessed yet, but meeting his friends and attending a party with them is dangerous.

“Yes.” It falls from your lips so easily, despite the consequences. “I’ll go with you. Should I meet you here?”

“Yeah… yeah.” Meian’s smile is so bright that you think he could light the whole sky. “After sundown, meet me here.”

You nod, lowering your head so he can’t see your flushed cheeks.

You’ll think about the consequences later. Right now you only care about the satisfied smile on the man’s face.

The solstice party is just how you imagined it would be. You’re stuffed in a long white gown that shows off your shoulders and your chest, the fabric thick and heavy as it cascades to the floor in a heap of chiffon. Your cheeks hurt from fake smiling at your father’s guests, languid string music filling the ballroom and nearly making you fall asleep. Whenever you can, you check over your shoulder, out the large double doors and out toward the city in the distance.

It’s not night yet, but it’s close. You had been trying to come up with a reason to miss the rest of the party, but nothing had worked. I don’t feel so well, had been met with, I’ll send for a doctor. I’m a bit tired, had been shot down with, Get some rest, there’s plenty of time. Now that the sun has nearly set, you’re a bundle of nerves, jumping every time someone says your name and asks you to dance.

When a noble you aren’t particularly fond of asks for your hand, you realize this is the perfect chance. You need to get out of the ballroom quickly before you break your promise to Meian. You’re already pushing your luck—the light trickle of snow this afternoon had turned into a heavy downfall about an hour ago, causing all the families to grumble under their breath about getting home later.

“You look ravishing today, dear,” the old man says, and you feign a smile that’s more like a grimace.

“I look much better than I feel, sir,” you act, stumbling in your steps on purpose. The man catches you, and you let out a breathy gasp. “Oh, my, I’m sorry, I—”

He doesn’t have enough strength in him to hold you when you faint.

The ballroom floor is cold and it takes everything in you not to react when the guests gasp and start fussing. One of your guards grabs you and hoists you up, and you play dead to the world as best you can as he hurries you out. Peeking open an eye, you catch Kiyoko following close behind you, her face morphing into surprised shock when she sees you’re awake. You go back to fake sleeping after that, letting the guard take you back to your bedroom and gently set you on your bed.

“Thank you, Daichi.”

“Should I stay?”

There’s a hint of worry in Daichi’s voice that makes you feel guilty. You know the guard is fond of you and the history you share. It had been your little secret, after all. Late nights spent kissing and exploring each other, hidden meetings spent laying in your bed together so you could learn both giving and receiving pleasure. You trust him more than any other man in the palace, which is why you asked him to help you years ago, and why your heart hurts so much to be lying to both him and Kiyoko now.

“No, it’s alright. I will handle it from here.”

Daichi sounds hesitant as he says, “Alright. Take care of her.”

Boots recede and the door closes, but you don’t pop open your eyes until Kiyoko commands, “Sit up. I know you’re awake.”

“Why did you have to catch me?” You grumble as you listen, sitting in a pool of heavy fabric that you can’t wait to get off of you. Low and blocked sunlight filters through the room and casts an orange glow on everything, reminding you of the fire in Meian’s workshop, and making your heart pang to be back there once more.

“My Lady, if you’ll let me speak…” Kiyoko waits for you to nod before continuing, “Who is it you’re going to see in town?”

She’s too perceptive for her own good. You swallow, trying to hide the flush in your cheeks when you whisper, “The carpenter. Shuugo Meian.”

Kiyoko nods a few times before sighing, “Are you supposed to meet him tonight…?”

“Yes.” You spring up from bed in a flurry of fabric, hurrying over to Kiyoko and grabbing her hands so quickly that it makes her squeak. “Yes, Kiyoko, I promised I would see him. Only for a few hours. I can be there and be back before midnight.”

“My Lady—”

“Tell everyone I’m resting and that you’ll watch over me. Please, Kiyoko, I beg you. This…” You take a breath, your voice going quiet. “This may be the last happiness I have before my betrothal. Please?”

Your servant looks so torn, her gaze flitting between your tortured expression and the heavy snowfall outside the window. When you squeeze her hands, she exhales and nods once.

“You have to come back as soon as possible. I can’t keep your family unknowing forever.”

You squeal and throw your arms around her, hugging her so tightly you hear her grunt for air. You haven’t pulled away when there’s a knock on the door, and your father’s voice asks to come in from the other side. You rush back into bed, throwing yourself down like you’re still unconscious, and Kiyoko hurries over to the door to let him in.

“How is she?” Your father asks. His boots click against the floor as he stalks closer, and you feel his warm hand press against your forehead. “Has she woken?”

“Not yet, Your Grace,” Kiyoko murmurs. “I will watch over her all night. Please enjoy the rest of your party.”

“It may be an all night party. The weather grows worse,” he muses, but his tone is certainly unamused. “Please keep me informed, Kiyoko. I will let her rest and come to see her first thing in the morning.”

“Understood, Your Grace.”

You hold your breath until your father leaves the room, and as soon as his footsteps recede down the hall, you spring up one more time.

“My Lady, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Kiyoko tries to tell you, but you’re too busy tugging at all of the strings and ties holding you into this monstrosity of a dress.

As soon as it’s off, you breathe a sigh of relief before rummaging around for something better. You find a soft, floor-length gown that makes you look like an angel in white and gold. Kiyoko goes quiet when you glance over at her, and you exhale as you fit on your cloak, gloves, and boots.

“I promise I’ll be back before my father knows,” you reassure her, and then you’re out your bedroom door and down the side passage you’ve come to know quite well.

It’s hard to make it to town. The snow is thick now, sinking into your boots as you push through the flurry of flakes. Your legs and nose are frozen by the time you make it, and against what you thought, no one is on the streets. In fact, there’s not much light to guide your path, but there is a welcoming glow from the workshop window that you gladly hurry towards.

Meian’s workshop is warm when you step inside and shake off the chill of the night.

“You’re here.”

Meian stands from the table and nearly takes your breath away. He looks so dashing in his button-up shirt and fitted black pants, his hair slicked back and near his ears. You hurry over, ignoring the wetness and chill in your boots, to stand before him.

“I’m sorry. I… something came up, and the weather is awful, and…”

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

His admission makes you hitch a breath. “Never.” You shake your head. “I wanted to see you.”

“Me, too.” He reaches out, brushing a wet spot from melted snow off of your cheek. “The party is at the bar next door, but…”

You swallow, trying not to reach out and hold his hand. “But?”

“Can I be selfish?” His smile is charming and makes your heart race. “You look so beautiful. I don’t want to show you to anyone else.”

“Then don’t.” The words slip from your lips without thinking, but you mean every single one. “Stay with me.”

“Are you sure?” Meian asks, more to be polite than anything. You can already see him moving closer like he wants you all to himself.

You nod, reaching out to grab his hand. He laces your fingers together easily, and the heat radiating from his body is even warmer than the dwindling fire in his workshop.

“Okay,” he breathes quietly, the electricity in the air amplifying when he squeezes your hand and tugs you toward him. “Come upstairs with me.”

Meian leads you to the stairwell at the end of his workshop close to the fireplace, and brings you up to his house. It’s small but quaint, a plush couch in the middle of the room in front of another fireplace that keeps the room toasty. He sits you down on the couch before going to make some tea, so you’re able to look around. There are flowers in vases on shelves that line the wall, next to sketches and paintings of the city and what you assume is his family. In a bookshelf, there are classics you’ve read and loved yourself, the binding looking worn like he has read them far too often. You can’t help but stand to ogle them, and you’re running your fingers over the spines when he comes back into the living room with the tea.

“See anything you enjoy?”

“This fairytale book,” you smile, turning to him and pointing to it. “I’ve read it plenty of times myself.”

“It’s my sister’s,” he explains as he sets down the tray and wanders over. “She gave it to me for safekeeping when she left for Nekoma. She said something about sending it to her when she finds a husband, but so far, she’s as carefree as a bird.”

“Seems to run in the family,” you laugh, cheeks warm when you ask, “Are you not looking to get married?”

“I’m looking,” he hums, and you pretend he isn’t staring at you with a wicked gleam in his eye. You turn to face him, realizing that he’s far too close when your back grazes the bookshelf. “And you? A pretty thing like yourself is sure to have a lot of suitors.”

If only you knew. You try not to grimace, shaking your head. “I don’t want them. I want—”

You catch yourself before you can admit it. Meian is staring at you so expectantly that you think you might melt from the heat, a trickle of sweat rolling down your neck when he steps closer and traps you against the bookshelf.

“What?” He questions quietly, his breath fanning across your lips that are practically begging for him to claim them. “What do you want?”

“You.” It’s so easy to say, especially when his hand comes up and runs over your collarbones as you struggle to breathe. “I want you.”

“Do you?” He murmurs, eyes dropping to your parted and waiting lips. “So if I kiss you, you’ll let me?”

You nod, swallowing your nerves so you can sound confident when you declare, “I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he chastises, but there’s a grin on his lips that matches yours before he swoops in to kiss you.

It’s warmer than you imagined, his body trapping you against the bookshelf as he gently cradles the back of your head. It feels like he’s hesitant for some reason, at least until you kiss him back, fingers digging into his shirt to tug him flush against you. That’s when he loses his abandon, his kiss growing a bit harder, more insistent. His mouth moves against yours until you’re clinging to him like your last lifeline, and when he pulls away, you immediately seek him and his warmth again.

He chuckles against your lips as he claims them, and when you feel his tongue against your bottom lip, you willingly part for him. It should be embarrassing how needy you are for him—you’ve never been like this with Daichi—but it’s so easy to fall into him when he wraps his arms around you and practically crushes you to his chest. You let him guide you back, your tongues dancing together as your bodies dance around the room, trying to find a place to lie down. You don’t care where he’s taking you, and your knees hit the back of something before you’re pressed against another wall.

You feel something hard against your thigh, making you gasp when you pull back.

“Shuugo.” Your call of his name is breathy and quiet, making him grunt in response.

“This is okay, right?” He questions as his hands dance from the bottom of your breasts to your waist.

It’s heartwarming that he’s so considerate, but the pulsing of your cunt only wants him to ravish you like you’ve been dreaming of.

“Yes. Please.”

“Lift your pretty skirt for me, princess.”

The name makes your blood run cold, your body instinctively freezing. Does he know? Is he telling you he figured out you’re lying? He studies your ghastly face before murmuring, “Should I call you something else?”

A pet name. Oh God, it’s just a pet name. You exhale, a light smile on your face when you shake your head.

“No, call me whatever you want, just… hurry.”

“Impatient,” he chuckles. “Go on then.”

Your fingers grip your skirt as you pull it up for him, bunching it in your fists to expose your thick winter leggings. When his fingers run over your covered cunt, you gasp. It’s swallowed by Meian’s lips on yours again, his tongue pushing into your mouth to run over everything it can. He’s careful as he tugs the fabric down, kissing you senseless until your leggings and underwear are bunched by your knees. It’s almost frustrating how delicate he’s treating you, like a flower, or one of the glass sculptures in his workshop.

You’re about to complain when his large hand cups your pussy, fingers stroking over your slit. You whimper his name, arching off the wall as he leans down to press wet and breathy kisses to your cheek and neck. As he finds a spot on your neck that makes you moan, his fingers part your folds so he can dip inside your pussy for the first time.

His finger is so thick as it slides into your core, pushing all the way to the hilt. You lean your head back against the wall, whimpering as he keeps kissing all along your neck and collarbones. You’re already wet enough from his kisses that he can start to thrust in and out, and you meet him stroke for stroke with rolls of your hips to meet his finger.

The sound you make when his thumb grazes your clit is muffled when he claims your lips again, hasty in his movements, pushing another finger inside of you. Even his thrusts are gentle, and you make a noise of frustration, tugging at his locks to bring him closer. Every time you roll your hips, your body grazes his hard cock, and his moan sounds like a melody as it rings in your ears.

At another impatient tug of his hair, Meian speeds up his thrusts, thumb running over your clit in fast circles. You whimper against his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip as you grind into him. With one hand, you hold onto your heavy skirts, and with the other, you run down his front, cupping his cock through his pants.

He grunts, pushing into your hand, both of you grinding into each other as he fingers you. Heat flames through your veins, body shaking as your orgasm approaches. The sounds from your wet cunt are so sinful, skin slapping against skin, his heavy pants against your cheek as you both give into each other.

“Shuugo,” you gasp as you tilt your head, giving him more room to work with. He licks and sucks up your neck, nipping as he bumps his nose against your chin.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Please.”

You don’t know whether you’re begging to cum or you’re begging for more, but he compiles away, scissoring and curling his fingers just right. His kiss is intoxicating, a little less controlled than he’s been all night, and you cling to him as heat threatens to overwhelm you. When he circles your clit faster and drags his teeth along your bottom lip, you snap. Your entire body pitches forward, both hands coming to rest on his shoulders as you moan and tremble. Your skirt falls over his hands but he doesn’t stop, fingers slamming into you as your walls squeeze them, his breath hot and heavy in your ear and bringing goosebumps to your arms.

Even when you’re done trembling, your walls still pulse around his lazily pumping fingers, wetness sticking to your folds as he continues to work you.

“More,” you gasp as you hurriedly tug at his shirt, wanting to feel him on you. “I want all of you.”

“Take it slow, princess,” he chides playfully. “We have all night.”

It only makes you grunt in annoyance. You don’t have time to take it slow—with the storm outside and your insatiable want for him, you need all of him now.

“Don’t treat me like I’m made of porcelain,” you beg. “I want… want you to have your way with me, so—”

You trail off, suddenly unsure of how to respond, but it’s not needed. Meian’s eyes grow darker, pupils dilated at your permission, and his kiss is nearly bruising as he brings you against him. The walk back to his bedroom is clumsy, full of heated kisses, near falls, and bumps into the wall. When you make it, he doesn’t give you another breath before you’re pushed onto his bed unceremoniously. You squeak as you bounce a few times, his gaze nearly predatory as he watches you heave for breath. With barely a tug, his shirt is thrown off and discarded to the side.

“Take it off,” he demands lowly as he unbuckles his belt. “Let me see you.”

Your entire body burns as your trembling fingers start to peel away your dress. He watches you like a hawk as you set the garments aside, unmoving until you’re laying back on his bed fully nude. He licks his lips, a piece of his slicked back hair falling in front of his face and covering his eye.

“Spread your legs for me.”

You listen, slowly lifting your legs onto his mattress so you can spread them for him. He inhales at the sight of your bare and wet pussy, your fingers dancing along your thighs as you look up at him. You see his cock twitch through his pants when you run your fingers along your folds, and he tries (and fails) to contain the quick jerks of his pants and underwear down.

When you finally see him naked for the first time, you lose your breath for a moment. He’s like a statue: built arms, thick thighs, a solid stomach you want to run your tongue over. The faint exhale you let out when he stalks closer, his warm hands sliding over your knees and down to your thighs. His hands land on your hips, and he kneads the flesh once before jerking you closer to the edge of the bed. You gasp as you’re flipped over none-too-gently, placed on your hands and knees, his thigh spreading you apart even further.

“Yeah, I like that,” he comments under his breath and makes you whine.

You shake your ass at him, looking back as best you can as you bite your lip. “Shuugo.”

“Hold on, I have to get—”

“No, wait.” You know what he’s going to say, and you know you should be safer, but you’re not thinking rationally. All you want is to feel him, all of him, especially when he drags his bare cock along your walls and fills you up, your last piece of him remaining. “I take herbs to prevent pregnancy, so…”

There’s hesitation in his eyes and movements, your gazes locked on each other’s. It’s like the world stops, your head ringing as he only stares into your eyes with an expression that’s much too gentle for how you’re feeling. Then he nods, the trust between you unspoken but very much there.

The feeling of his cock sliding against your folds has you moaning, as does the feeling of him pushing the tip inside. Meian teases you by pausing, only using his strong grip to rock your hips back and forth while he stays perfectly still. It makes you huff impatiently, shimmying to get closer to him as he gropes at your ass and your sides.

All it takes for him to break is a needy whisper of his name and your batted eyelashes as you set your head against his sheets.

It’s been a while, so you feel full, walls stretched out and clamping down on his thick girth. Your fingers dig into his sheets as he rocks in and out of you, your body shivering at the pleasure coursing through your veins. You’ve laid with others, but it’s never felt like this, never felt like you were about to burst at the seams just from his cock filling you.

Then Meian snaps his hips forward so hard you’re nearly knocked to your front.

“You better hang on,” he jokes as he pulls out and slams back in again.

You think he might be kidding, but as soon as he picks up his rhythm, you know you were wrong. He’s not gentle at all as he slaps his hips into yours, holding onto your hips as he picks up the pace. Each drag of his cock along your walls has you moaning and clinging to the sheets, your body falling forward with the force. All you can do is arch down further for him and try to stay upright, relishing in the heat of your body and the squelching of your wet cunt.

Even with you bracing yourself, one sharp thrust sends you falling forward with a squeal. You don’t have time to pull yourself back up; Meian is right there over you, not pulling out as he climbs onto the bed and leans down. His chest is warm and sweaty against your back, his breath tickling your ear as he starts to fuck you into the mattress. All you can do is lift your hips so he can hit deeper, and as soon as he brushes your cervix, you cry out. It’s muffled by his fingers that worm their way into your mouth, and you immediately suck on them, your staccato whines ringing into his skin.

Your entire body is hot and flushed, practically singing for him—and it only increases when he pulls his wet fingers from your mouth and moves down your body. You lift enough so that he can maneuver underneath, and you moan when he gropes around and finds your clit again. He lets go of your hip to grab onto your hand, fingers twining with yours above your head. It’s intimate and overwhelming, especially when he pants and groans right into your ear, his cock striking places you didn’t even know existed.

“Shuugo, ah, I’m—”

You don’t even know how to put it in words. It’s like your body has a mind of its own, mind dizzy with his spicy scent and the way he splits you open. All you can do is clamp your eyes shut, giving into the heat spiking through your body as you fall into another orgasm. Your moans and whimpers don’t even sound like yourself, your body lost to the pleasure his cock and fingers are giving you, riding your high until you’re a boneless mess, limp against his bed.

“Shit,” he murmurs, the low and coarse word right in your ear making you shiver.

Meian gives a few more thrusts until he pulls out from you, making you whine at the emptiness. It isn’t until you feel warmth spread across your back and your asscheeks that you open your eyes to see him fisting his cock, cum spurting along your flesh. It’s so hot to see him like this, hand dirty, length leaking, chest heaving for breath. You bite your lip, trying not to show how disappointed you are.

When he’s finally caught his breath, he gives you a smirk. “What’s that look for?”

You relax your face, cheeks flaming at being caught. “It’s… nothing! Nothing, I just thought you would… finish inside because I said you could?”

“Oh, I’m going to,” he muses as he flips you over. You start to protest about how his sheets will be dirty thanks to the drying cum on your back, but he ignores you, pulling you back to the edge of the bed and leaning down on his knees. You gasp when you realize how close he is to your pulsing cunt, your wetness dripping down when he parts your sticky folds. “I wanted a taste of you first.”

Your still thrumming body jumps when he puts his mouth on you. He grips onto your outer thighs so you can’t squirm away, even though everything still feels so sensitive. His tongue makes a mess of your slit, running up and down to gather your taste before pushing inside with a low moan. He runs along your walls, tongue flicking and twirling until you’re whimpering and threading your fingers into his hair. When he touches your clit, you jolt, tugging at his locks with a low whine.

“I want—” It’s interrupted with a gasp when he sucks on your clit, his groan vibrating into your pussy. “Shuugo, I want to taste you, too.”

Your breathy request doesn’t go unheard. He sits up, helping you push further up the bed so there’s room enough for both of you. You expect him to climb on top of you but he lays down, tugging you on top of him with a chuckle.

“I’m too heavy for you, princess,” he says before he positions your cunt over his face with ease.

You want to retort, you really do, but he puts his mouth back on you and makes you forget everything. His half-hard cock sits against his thigh so you wrap your hand around it, bringing it to your mouth so you can suck. It’s strange to taste yourself mixed with his salty pre-cum, but you don’t mind, sinking down even further to take as much of him as you can. You try to concentrate on sucking him and twirling your tongue around the head of his dick, but it’s so hard when he sucks on your clit and pushes two fingers into your dripping core. You ache for him to fill you again, stuffing his cum in you until there’s a little evidence of him left after this night is over.

You pant against his thigh as you jerk him off instead, mind too clouded with the movements of his mouth on you. Your body trembles when his fingers curl, and you bring his cock back to his mouth, the vibrations of your moans making him hiss. His cock twitches in your mouth, fully hard again thanks to your ministrations, and when your fingers drift over his balls to squeeze, he pulls away from you. You don’t even have time to whine before you’re thrown off of him, rolled so your body is underneath his sturdy one.

Meian’s lips mold against yours like it belongs there, your taste on his tongue as he delves into your mouth. You cling to his broad shoulders as he lines up with your heat again, nails digging into his flesh when he pushes in and bottoms out. His pace is slightly slower this time, strokes deeper as he continues kissing you until you’re both panting for breath. Then he pulls back, grabbing onto your thighs and jerking you closer, until your knees practically touch your chest with how far he leans forward.

This position makes him hit even deeper, your mind going blank as his cock drags over your throbbing walls over and over again. All you can do is cling to him and cry out, hazy pleasure clouding your mind and making it hard to breathe and think. He’s so deep, so strong as he pulls your body against his, your entire body buzzing with everything the carpenter gives you.

“Fuck, so good,” he slurs, sounding completely drunk on love and pleasure. You’re about to answer when his arms circle both your legs and pull them against his chest; his thumb finds your clit again, and you can only answer with a broken moan, walls squeezing him so hard that he has to exhale sharply. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“I want it,” you babble between heavy breaths, your legs trembling under his touch and sharp ruts of his cock in your sensitive hole. “Please, please.”

Meian’s answer is a groan into your calf, teeth biting at your flesh as he works you even faster. You don’t even realize your orgasm was rising until you’re drowning in it, body shaking and jerking as you milk his cock. It feels like you can’t breathe, your lungs and stomach tight with the fire spreading from your head to your toes. Your bleary eyes open just in time to see Meian cum: his eyebrows scrunch together, his teeth grit, and then he’s shooting hot and deep into your pussy, filling you to the brim just like you wanted. You keep him close with your heels against his shoulders, your nails digging into his thighs so hard that you know he’ll have marks tomorrow morning.

“Shit,” he moans as he thrusts shallowly, goosebumps all over his flesh.

You can feel your mixed essence dripping onto the sheets, but you don’t care, not when he throws your legs open to lean down and kiss you again. You could get lost in his kisses, in the slow drags of lips and tongue against yours, in the juxtaposition of the strength of his hips but the tenderness in his heart. His fingers brush along your warm cheeks as he pours himself into you, and when he’s finally satisfied, he sets his forehead on your shoulder with a contented sigh.

You have to go. You know you do. But the wind outside is howling, and the warmth of his body makes you feel protected and loved. When he turns his head to look at you, running his thumb over your swollen lips, you know it’s too late.

“Stay the night?” He asks quietly, like he’s asking your permission, like he is nervous you’ll say no and leave him here alone.

“Yes,” you respond just as breathlessly, bringing him onto him, two, three kisses before you sigh. “Yes.”

All the consequences lingering in the back of your mind vanish as soon as he smiles and brings you into his embrace, his chin tucked on the top of your head as your legs tangle together. Your parents, your title, your lingering nuptials, your promised return before the morning—none of it matters when Meian’s arms tighten around you and make you feel, for the first time in your life, like a normal girl in love.

tagging: @hqintheclub, @hanayanetwork, @anime-central, @amarinthe, @erinoikawa, @miyarinrin, @bakarinnie, @eros-miya, @sunaspillowprincess, @jojowantstocry, @scentedflower, @crystal-lilac, @pazumane, @rosesandtoshi, @luna-vitae-suae, @kittycatkrissa, @ebiharachan, @etoilezone, @bresilienne-ami, @crapimahuman, @lovelyunholyc, @quanyeon, @tehehebri, @meanshiggy, @antique-remains, @rinsangel, @chims-kookies, @darth-papi, @kellyyween, @tomankitten, @savantsoulfinder, @animehero666, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @callmeraids, @lazarusstorm, @bananabossbitch, @thevillagehiddenintheinternet, @devilgirlcrybabiey, @abcdemporio, @hannas16, @rory-cakes, @chloee0x0, @kemakoshume, @dreeming-dree, @tirzamisu

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#by: meiansmistress #light reads #meian x reader #ch: meian shūgo #f: fic #g: smut #kink: manhandling #kink: creampie #kink: 69

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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Favourite

Idol!(f)reader x Bodyguard!Iwaizumi smut

Submission for my Idolverse Collab

1.1k

Warnings: smut 18+ minors do not interact, afab reader, unprotected sex, slight choking, biting, dry humping, praise/minor degradation, ‘sir’ used once, ‘good girl’ mentioned, creampie

You wave happily at you fans as you exit the venue. Stopping ever few seconds to take selfies and sign autographs. It was a rush greeting them all, the hands reaching out for you and chanting your name. But your bodyguard was always behind you to keep you safe.

A sign catches your eye and makes you stop in your steps. ‘Good luck kiss for my exams?’ You grin as you reach up to the fan and give them a peck on the corner of their mouth. The surrounding crowd screams as you walk away.

When you finally make it out, you feel yourself cool down. Stretching as you make your way to your hotel room. You open the door and throw yourself onto the bed, sighing into the soft covers. You turn to see your bodyguard staring at you.

“It was just a little kiss.” You explain but his jaw ticks.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” You stand up and strut towards him. He looks so handsome in his uniform. Shirt fitting just right to highlight the bulges in his arms.

You raise your hand to fix his in-ear piece becoming loose. Running your fingers down his jaw and over his throat. You bite your lip as you watch his Adam’s apple bounce, leaning forward to hover you lips over his and smirking when his lips part slightly. You try to turn and walk away but he catches your wrist and traps your back against the wall.

“Always get what you want, don’t you?” He stares into your eyes, licking his lips.

“So hot…wanna just fuck you on stage.” He confesses and you chuckle at him.

“Getting tired of the hotels, baby?” You smirk at you bodyguard. He knew you in and out, and always knew how to fuck you after you tease him with fans.

“Maybe. Maybe I should just show your fans how much of a slut their idol really is. Should I show them how much you cream around my cock, baby?” His lewd words makes your stomach heat up.

You bite your lip as you crawl your hands over his torso, pulling him closer so you can grind yourself against his thigh.

“Hajime…” you whine, his thigh inching higher to give you contact.

He grabs your jaw and makes you focus on him, rubbing his thumb over your lips before sliding it inside your mouth.

“Fuck. You make me so hard…gonna fuck that pussy until it’s full. You got that?” He raises his eyebrows and you nod.

“Yes, sir.” He groans as he smashes his lips to yours.

You moan onto his mouth, his hand pushing your lower back into him. He spreads you thighs apart with his knee, sliding his thigh to nudge your entrance. You whine at the touch, griping his shirt as he moves his lips onto your neck.

He licks over your skin, sucking and pulling at it before giving it a little bite. He groans deeply when you thrust your hips against his bulge. This cock twitches in his trousers when he gazes into your blown out pupils. He looks over your dazed expression and quickly drags you into bed. He lays you on the bed, discarding his shirt as he kisses you. You slide your hand over his chiselled chest, fingers bumping over his abs before you tug with his waistband.

“Off Haji…” you pout and he laughs.

“So impatient.” He raises the bottom of your shirt up, trailing kisses over your stomach before reaching your chest.

He runs a finger over your bra, unhooking it quickly to free your tits.

“Fucking beautiful.” He stretches his neck to fill his mouth with your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around it as he grinds against your core.

You grip his hair, tugging it when he adds more pressure.

“Please Hajiii…inside me, please” you beg, lifting your hips up for more.

He lets you free his erection. You lick your lips as you watch it bounces. Hard and thick. He smirks at your expression, pulling off your own clothes until he’s spreading your thighs open. His cock twitches when he eyes how wet you are, rubbing his finger over your slit and putting it into his mouth.

“Mmm, I’ll eat you out later.” He promises and you hum.

He lines his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding it in until he hunches over you. You grab his shoulders as he pounds into you, moaning out his name as he fucks you.

“Shit…who’s pussy is this? Huh? Your fans wish they could fuck you like this. Only me though, right? Your favourite bodyguard.” He grunts, wrapping his hand around your neck as he leans back.

“Yea Hajime, ahh fuck, only you…always you.” He pulls back and thrusts into you sharply, making you arch your back from the force.

“That’s it baby, take my cock like a good girl. Pretty, talents girl. You’re so wet, yeah squeeze me just like that, baby.” He moans, bending your knee and fucking you faster.

Your chest raises rapidly, eyes drooping as you feel him hit your spot over and over. You open your mouth wide, moaning and screaming out his name as he angles deeper. You can feel your stomach turning, your pussy fluttering against his cock. You almost jerk forward when you feel his wet thumb circle your clit, slowly adding pressure as he watches your tits bounce.

“G’cum haji-fuck! Don’t stop please please please-“ you plead, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as his balls slap against you.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock?” He growls and you mewl in response.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum on my cock like a good girl.” He leans forward and kisses you again, hips starting to stutter as he feels himself getting close.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him close as you cry out in pleasure. He fucks you through your high, chasing his as he fills your cunt up. He shudders and lets out a deep groan, panting over you as his hips jerk forward a little.

He sloppily kisses the top of your head, looking down to see his cum drool out your cunt when he pulls out. You grab his face and kiss him passionately, rubbing his cheeks and smiling tiredly against his lips.

You’re about to say something when a knock interrupts you. A voice letting you know you’re needed in hair and make up for a short interview. You sigh against his lips, shouting out a quick response. He sits you up, wiping your face and smiling.

“Time to go, superstar.” He grumbles.

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@hqintheclub

#by: sunatooru #light reads #iwaizumi x reader #ch: iwaizumi hajime #f: oneshot #g: smut #tw | unprotected sex #tw | degradation #kink: choking #kink: praise kink #kink: sir kink #kink: creampie

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hqintheclub · 3 years ago

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From This Moment ❀ Ushijima Wakatoshi

❀ Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x plus size female!reader

❀ WC: 4.7k

❀ Tags/Warnings: a bit of angst/hurt at the beginning, comfort later, friends to lovers, love confessions, Ushijima is blunt as always, reader has body insecurities, height difference but not stated (he is taller than reader) fingering, f!oral, Ushijima lifts you up, praise, daddy kink, pretty vanilla really, creampie. Please let me know if missed anything else.

❀ Part of 6 collabs lol (please don't judge me). The first is the first ever Hanaya Holiday Server Collab @hanayanetwork. Masterlist for all the other wonderful works and creators can be found here!

❀ Second is my Enemies to Lovers collab. Masterlist for all the other wonderful works and creators can be found here!

❀ Third collab is the Rainy Love collab by @kirakirasaku. Thank you for letting me join! Masterlist for all the other wonderful works and creators can be found here!

❀ Fourth collab is the Heartsick collab by @lovemeian. Thank you letting me join! Masterlist for all the other wonderful works and creators can be found here!

❀ Fifth is the Anilysium NSFW Holiday Collab. Masterlist for all the other wonderful works and creators can be found here!

❀ Sixth and final collab is The Chubby Chasers Collab by @kyovtani. Thank you for hosting this! Us bigger loves, need some love well! Masterlist for all the other wonderful works and creators can be found here!

❀ As always, I am very grateful to my wonderful betas. @thesimphouse @oneblonded @stopisa

❀ This is very self indulgent. Reader is plus sized and reader does celebrate Christmas. I tried to make it not inclusive, but some aspects I did have to write and put Christmas in. I do apologize in advance. Also this intro is really long. Yikes. Anyways, please enjoy!! And Happy Holidays everyone!

You cheered as Shiratorizawa won the match, jumping up and down from the bench by the coaches. This meant that they would face Karasuno High in the finals. As everyone cleared the bleachers and started to leave, you helped the boys gather their things to head home. Being the team manager was not an easy job for you, especially dealing with such a powerhouse team.

You remembered the day like it was yesterday, all the stares you got as your uncle, Washijou, introduced you to the team. Everyone seemed to be fine with it, everyone except the captain, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

“I don’t understand why we need a manager. We do just fine.” He stated bluntly. You eyed him up and down before letting out a small laugh.

“Mhmm sure. I’m really not here to help you. I am here to help my uncle.” You snapped back. The whole team looked at you in awe; your uncle giving you a glare. Ushijima held his gaze as did you, neither one of you budging.

“Alright. That’s enough. She just transferred here and needs to do an activity. I offered her to become the manager and that’s final.” Washijo said, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah whatever.” You grabbed the empty water and left to go fill them up as the team began their practice.

Ever since the beginning you and Ushijima seemed to butt heads at each other. Some days he would completely ignore you, which honestly hurt your feelings. Since you were new to Shiratorizawa and in your final year, you didn’t have any friends except the volleyball team. Semi and Tendou seemed to take a liking to you and helped you out a lot.

“Wakatoshi is hard to get along with. Don’t worry about him, okay?” Tendou said to you one night while you brought up him ignoring you.

“But what did I do wrong?” You asked, tears threatening to fall down your face.

“He is just very one track minded. Please don’t let him make you feel like this. He’ll come around.” Semi said, patting your back.

“He’s a big dummy. That’s what he is.” You mumbled as they chuckled.

What you didn’t know was that Ushijima had a crush on you. When he first saw you walk in the gym, he felt his breath get caught in his throat. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. The way your hair flowed around your face and how your eyes sparkled made his heart race a bit more every time he saw you. He cursed himself for being so rude to you the first day you two met but couldn’t help but smirk to himself as you snapped back at him. You were strong willed, he could tell by your comment. He tried not to be awkward around you, but sometimes ended up ignoring you. It wasn’t until Tendou brought up what he was doing when he realized he had feelings for you.

“You like her, don’t you?” Tendou poked at Ushijima one day. Tendou had watched how Ushijima would watch you, almost like he was analyzing you.

“I do not.” Ushijima furrowed his eyebrows at Tendou and walked away from him. Tendou followed him and smiled a bit.

“You don’t have to deny it. I see the way you look at her.” Tendou said, walking past him to go get his water.

Ushijima pondered on his feelings for a while, eventually warming up just a tad bit. He still ignored you some days, but made an effort to at least tell you hi and he always told you thank you for helping. Slowly but surely, you started to develop some feelings for the stoic ace as he warmed up to you. Tendou encouraged you to tell him how you felt after the match between Karasuno. But as the final match came, your heart sunk deep into your stomach watching them lose. After that day, Ushijima completely ignored you for the rest of the week. As you were walking into the gym one day, you heard the words that would end up boring into your brain forever.

“If I didn’t have this stupid crush on her, then we could’ve won. This is her fault.” Ushijima’s words dripped like venom as you accidentally dropped the water bottle you were holding. Everyone snapped their heads to you and Ushijima’s eyes widened.

“Wait, I didn’t—”

“Save your bullshit.” You snapped, cutting him off and walking out.

That was the last time you spoke to the volleyball team. You choose to stay away from them; knowing graduation was coming up and you didn’t have to see them anymore. As you got your diploma and made your way to leave with your parents, Tendou stopped you. Your parents left the two of you alone and you gave Tendou a small smile.

“Thanks for being my friend.”

“You know I always had fun hanging out with you. Keep in touch, okay?” Tendou said, giving you a hug. Ushijima watched from a distance as he felt his heart sink. He knew it was wrong to say what he did, but his stupid brain couldn’t help it. He tried over and over again to apologize to you, but every time you would avoid him. You had every right too. He had hurt your feelings and knew he would have to make it up to you someday.

You smiled as the students left your class. WInter break was finally here and you had a whole plan to stay home and do nothing. After graduating high school, you left Miyagi and went to Tokyo for school, studying teaching. After earning your degree and settling down with a job, you couldn’t be happier. You choose to focus on your career instead of dating, having casual flings here and there. Tonight you had planned to go out with some of the other teachers to celebrate winter break being here. After getting home and changing your clothes, you found yourself at the bar, drinking and laughing as you all had a good time. A group of men entered the bar and your friends all giggled.

“That’s Kageyama Tobio from Adlers. He’s so much hotter in person.”

“Where’s Ushijima?” Your head snapped up at what one of them said and you looked at the group of men. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you saw Ushijima with the group of men. Over the years you had forgotten about Ushijima and the way he treated you, choosing to forget him. But you couldn’t deny he had grown far more attractive since high school. Still having the stoic look on his face like always, he and the group sat down at a table near you. You turned back and smiled at your friends. The rest of the night went on and you could feel eyes staring at you. You knew Ushijima saw you and was staring at you.

“Ushijima is staring at you.” Your friend nudged you. You didn’t look back as you rolled your eyes.

“I knew him in high school. No big deal.” You shrugged.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over here!!” Your friends squealed as you glanced behind you and saw Ushijima walking over to your table.

‘Be cool. You can do this.’ You thought to yourself.

“Hello.” You name fell from his as his deep voice rang out to you. You turned around and gave him a small smile.

“Ushijima, hello, nice to see you again.”

“Do you mind if we talk for a moment?” He asked, gesturing towards an empty booth.

“Oh umm, sure.” You got off the stool and realized he got a lot taller from highschool. He towered over you as you made your way to the booth. You sat down and he slid in across from you. You looked down at the table, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry. I treated you horrible after that game that day when it wasn’t your fault. I spent years regretting what I did and always wished you well and hoped the best for you. I hope you can forgive me.” You noticed he was sincere with his apology and you felt yourself start to relax.

“You really hurt me, Ushijima. I really liked and cared about you and it wasn’t my fault. I spent years taking the blame when I shouldn't have. I appreciate your apology. Now, I must get back to my friends.” You started to leave the booth when he grabbed your wrist. A spark instantly went through your body as he looked at you.

“Let me make it up to you. Can I take you out to dinner?” He asked, letting go of your wrist.

“I’ll have to think about it. I can give you my number in the meantime.” You took out your phones and he handed you his and vice versa, typing your name and number into his phone. After putting your phone back into your purse, you gave him a small smile.

“It was nice to see you, Ushijima. I hope things have been well for you too.”

You went back to your friends, with them teasing the shit out of you for getting his number. You rolled your eyes and glanced over at the Adlers table, catching Ushijima’s eye. You turned away, heat rising to your face.

“You like him.”

“I do not. I had a stupid high school crush on him. And it never went anywhere.” You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your drink.

“Uh huh, that’s why you're blushing.” You gave your friend a slight punch and told her to shut up.

After the night at the bar, you and Ushijima had seemed to be texting non stop. A week had gone by and you agreed to meet Ushijima for dinner. As you smoothed out your favorite winter dress and fixed your hair, the doorbell to your apartment rang and you grabbed your jacket and purse, opened the door and saw Ushijima standing there holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I remember from high school you said that you loved flowers. So I got you these.” He handed them to you and you felt your heart swell. It had been several years and you were surprised he remembered.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you. They’re beautiful. Come in and let me put these in some water before we go.” You set your things back down and went to the kitchen, grabbing a vase and filling it with water. Ushijima looked around your apartment, looking at all your decorations. The holidays were coming up so you had a tree with lights and ornaments as well as some stockings and other festive decorations up.

“I really like your decorations. They’re pretty like you.” You dropped the flowers in the water, splashing you a bit. You bit your lip and got a good look at him. He looked really handsome. His dress slacks and dress shirt were snug on him, and you could slightly see his muscles against the fabric. You swallowed and finished putting the flowers in the vase.

“You ready?” He nodded and you went around from the sink and made your way to the door, him following you.

After putting your shoes and jacket on, the two of you left your place. Ushijima helped you into the car and the two of you made small talk on the way to the restaurant. You felt relaxed as things seemed to not be tense between the two of you like you had initially thought. You honestly never knew what you would do if you ever saw Ushijima Wakatoshi again. He was just a memory for all these years until that night at the bar when the two of you met again. Maybe it was fate for the two of you to meet again. You did really like him back in high school and secretly wished things had worked out back then, but that never happened. As he pulled up to the restaurant and helped you out of the car, you smiled as he held your hand, cheeks warming up. As the waiter sat you in a quieter area, grabbed the menu and scanned it over.

“This place is really nice.”

“The team comes here sometimes. The food is really good.” He said, setting his menu down. “Order whatever you want, okay?” You nodded and waited as the waiter came by and took your order. As they took the menus away, the two of you fell into a silence.

Ushijima hadn’t changed much from what you gathered. After high school he got recruited to play on the Adlers and then went on to the 2014 Olympics three years ago. You didn’t keep much contact with people from high school since you moved to Shiratorizawa in your last year, but had found out Ushijima kept in close contact with Tendou. Volleyball had always been his passion and you were happy he followed his dream. As the two of you continued to talk about things, the food arrived and Ushijima was right, the food was indeed really good. As you finished your meals, you noticed Uhsijima looking at you all night. The warmth in your cheeks never left as the night continued.

“You have really gotten more beautiful over the years, you know.” He said, setting his fork down. You smiled a bit and couldn’t help but feel like a schoolgirl with how giddy you got.

“You’re pretty handsome yourself. You got taller. Really tall.” You giggled a bit.

“We do tend to grow when we get older.” He bluntly stated. You rolled your eyes a bit.

“I stopped growing in my first year of high school.”

“Well you’re the perfect height to me.” You shook your head and took a drink of your water.

“You are just so charming aren’t you?”

“You know I did really like you back then. I just let my emotions get in the way. And that, that is something I’ll always regret. And I am so thankful I can get this chance again.” You felt like your face couldn’t get any hotter as he confessed his feelings to you. He was always blunt.

“I am glad as well. I really liked you as well. And I was deeply hurt with how things ended. I spent years wondering what I did wrong before and then realized I didn’t do anything. All I wanted to do was love and support you.” You felt yourself tearing up at your words and wiped your eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you for forgiving me and giving me a second chance.” He smiled and reached his hand out, grabbing yours and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, before bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to them. “Let me take you home now.”

The ride home, he held your hand in his as you felt your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. As he pulled up into your apartment, he walked you to your door, his hand on the small of your back.

“When can I see you again?”

“I’ll be free in a couple days. Maybe I can make dinner for you?”

“In a couple days it’ll be Christmas. Are you sure?” He asked.

“I’m sure. My parents are out of the country. Unless you have plans?” You asked sheepishly, not even considering that he might already have Christmas plans.

“No. I don’t. My mother is also out of the country. So I’ll be here.” He gave you a small smile.

“It’s a date then. Be here at 6.”

“Can I kiss you?” You nodded and he slowly brought his lips to yours as your two kissed each other good night.

Christmas came and you frantically cleaned your apartment and gathered all your ingredients to make a holiday meal. Today has been planned to be very low key. A couple of your friends had stopped by for a gift exchange, all while teasing you about your multiple dates with Ushijima. You shooed them out to finish the last minute preparations for your meal and got ready. You opted to be comfortable and had told Ushijima to also come casual as it was a cold night. A rain/snow storm was moving in and was supposed to be over by the end of the night. Hoping Ushijima could make it, you made sure to let him know if he needed to stay, he was welcomed to stay. The doorbell rang and you finished the meal and went to the door. You opened it and Ushijima stood there in a heavy jacket and a duffle bag. Flowers and small gift in his hand.

“I brought a bag in case we get snowed in. I hope that’s okay?”

“Yes of course. Hopefully the snow won’t be too bad. Come in. I’ll take the flowers. Thank you.” You just smiled and took the flowers to add to the current ones you had. As he came into the kitchen he noticed the meal on the counter.

“Hayashi rice.” His lips curled in a small smile. “You remembered.”

“I did. I hope you like it.” You took out two plates and served him. “I was thinking we could watch some movies after this?”

“I would like that very much.” He said, taking a bit of his food. He smiled a bit as he swallowed and looked to you. “This is amazing. Better than I have ever had.”

“I’m glad! I am so glad you like it.” You smiled as you sat down next to him, taking a bite of the food as well.

As the two of you finished eating, Ushijima helped you clean. Once everything was cleaned, you made a fire in your fireplace, turned off all the lights except the lights on your tree and turned on a movie. As the snow fell outside, you made hot chocolate and curled up on the couch with a blanket. Ushijma sat next to you as the movie went on. Half way through, you both got a notification on your phone that there was a storm warning and that it was advised to not go anywhere.

“Well, I guess I am staying. I hope that’s okay?” Ushijima asked again.

“Of course. Do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?” He shook his head and you got up to go to your bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. As you finished changing into some sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt, Ushijima came out of the bathroom wearing something similar to you. You both made your way back to the kitchen when he stopped you and pointed above you.

“I didn't notice the mistletoe. And we’re under it.” Your cheeks heated up as Ushijima pinned you in between the wall and him. “May I please kiss you?”

You nodded your head and Ushijima slowly moved his lips towards yours. His lips ghosted over yours before he pulled you closer, pressing his lips onto yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He bent down and picked you up with ease as gasped into the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to your bedroom and laid you down on the bed, never once breaking the kiss. As things heated up, he suddenly pulled away from you.

“Can I touch you?” He sat up on knees and looked at your flushed form beneath him, making his cock strain in his underwear.

“I umm, I really want to do this Ushi—”

“Wakatoshi. Call me Wakatoshi.” He said, cutting you off.

“I really want to do this Toshi, I do, but I umm, I’m probably not the thinnest person you’ve been with.” You said.

“Okay. And?”

“I— I’m just…”

“I like you for you. And to me, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever met. And I was so foolishly let you go all those years ago. And I want you. I want this. But only if you want to do this as well?” You felt the tears well in your eyes as no one had ever told you something like this before. You grabbed him by his short hair and pulled him into a kiss.

“I want you, Ushijima Wakatoshi. I’ve wanted you for years. I’m yours. All yours.” You moaned into his mouth. You felt him smile into the kiss as his hand moved down to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ghosted over stomach as they moved up to your breasts.

“No bra, hm?”

His hand found purchase on your right breast as he started to knead it. You pushed your chest up into his hand, wanting more from him. He broke the kiss and kissed down your chin to your neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin as one of your hands moved up to thread in his hair. He pulled away and grabbed your shirt, pulling it over your head. You moved and helped him out of his shirt, pulling it off and lightly raking your nails down his sculpted body. He groaned as he kissed you again, lips moving down to capture your pert nipple as his tongue swirled the bud. You arched your back more into his as his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling your closer to him. He broke away and went to your other nipple. Your head fell back against the pillow as moans slipped from your lips. One hand moved down to your sweatpants. His hand slowly pulled down both your sweatpants and panties, a string of your slick coming from them. He tossed them to the floor as his finger ghosted over your clit. You gasped as he made small circles, his middle finger rubbing up and down your slit.

“Toshi please.” You begged.

“Please what? Tell me.” He left your nipple, placing small kisses between your breasts.

“I need you. Need your fingers.”

“Need my fingers, need daddy to stuff that pussy of yours?” Your hole fluttered around nothing.

“Toshi! Daddy. Please. Please.” You begged more.

“Such a good girl begging for your daddy.”

His pointer finger swirled around your hole before he slowly pushed into your awaiting core. You moaned loudly as his finger stretched you. He started to move in and out, his mouth latching onto your nipple again. The other hand moved up to knead your other breast. He pushed another finger into you, setting a pace as his thumb moved up to rub circles on your clit again.

“More. Please. I need more.”

He didn’t say anything but kissed down your stomach to your thighs. He pressed soft kisses on your inner thighs as his pace on his fingers slowed. Your breath became shaky as you felt his hot breath ghosting over your clit before he pressed a soft kiss to it. He kissed it over and over again before sticking his tongue out and dragging a long strip against it. Your hand moved down, gripping his hair once more as his tongue made work on your clit. His fingers started to move again adding more stimulation. Your slick covered his mouth and chin as the slurping noise from him eating your pussy drove you mad. Your hand gripped the bed sheets tightly as you felt your orgasm building.

“I’m close.” You panted out.

“Come for me. Come all over my face. Show me how good I can make you come.” His words and tongue sent you over the edge as you came all over his face. Your chest heaved up and down as he helped you through your orgasm. As you came down from your high, he slowly pulled his fingers from your core, earning a mewl from you. He stood up and pulled the rest of his clothes off, his cock springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Long, thick, with an angry red tip. You moved to go to him and he stopped you.

“No. This is about you. I want to make you feel good.” Wakatoshi said.

He pushed you lightly back down on the bed and crawled on top of you. He gripped his cock in his hand and rubbed it up and down your slit. He started to push in, making both of you gasp. Tears sprang to your eyes as the stretch burned. You had had sex before but not with anyone else this big. Your head went back into the pillow as he continued to push in, When he bottomed out he stopped, one of his hands moving up and wiping your tears away.

“God, you feel amazing. I fit so perfectly. Like your pussy was made for me. Mine. All mine.” He groaned, burying his face into neck.

He pulled back and started to thrust slowly. The drag of his cock along your gummy walls made your eyes roll back into your head. You felt every inch of him, every vein of his cock. He kept the pace slow, wanting to savor this moment with you. He had waited years for this. Waited years for you. No other woman compared to you. No other woman had made him feel the way you.

“I love you.” He whispered lips by your ear. Your breath got caught in your throat as he said those words.

“Say that again.” You whispered.

“I love you.” He repeated, his pace picking up. The tears rolled down your cheeks as he pounded into you.

“I love you too, Wakatoshi.” You cried out as his tip hit your sweet spot over and over again. His pelvic bone rubbed your clit just right. “Right there. Right there.”

He sat up on his knees and gripped your hips, slightly pulling you up. He watched as your tits bounced up and down as he fucked into you. You moaned out his name as one of his hands started to rub your clit. You felt your second orgasm building as your pussy started to clamp around his cock.

“I’m close. I’m so close.” You cried out.

“Yeah? Come for me. Come all over daddy’s cock.”

You screamed as you gushed around his cock, a white ring of your slick coating the base of his cock. His thrusting continued as his hand moved back to your hips. His fingers dug deep into the plush of your hips, surely to leave marks in the morning.

“Where can I come?” He panted out.

“In me please. I’m on the pill. Need you to fill me up.” You cried, feeling yourself becoming overstimulated. He nodded as the sweat dripped down his face. His muscle constricted as he felt his own orgasm building. He thrusted a couple more times before letting out a loud groan, hips stilling as he shot his load in you. Chests heaved up and down as you both came down. He pulled out of your slow and went to your restroom. You heard the shower turn on and Wakatoshi came back and picked you up bridal style. Once the water was at the right temperature, he set you down and helped you in the shower, climbing in after you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed soft kisses against your neck.

“You were amazing.” You smiled, leaning into his touch.

“I had an amazing partner doing it with me.” You giggled and closed your eyes, letting both the warmth of the water and being in Wakatoshi’s arms consume you. “Did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?” He questioned.

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” He turned you around so you were facing each other. His hands cupped your face and he pressed a kiss to your forehead first and then kissed your lips softly.

“I love you. And I meant every word.” Your eyes welled up with tears again as you could feel his love consume your every being.

“I love you too, Wakatoshi. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you gave me a second chance. Without it, I’d never be here.”

“Well, you’re mine now.”

“All yours. And you are mine. All mine.” He pressed kisses to your lips again. “Now, let’s get you all cleaned so we can finish our movies.”

You giggled and nodded your head. From this moment on, you knew things were going to be amazing with your new life with Ushijima Wakatoshi.

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#by: rosesandtoshi #light reads #ushijima x reader #ch: ushijima wakatoshi #g: smut #f: fic #kink: daddy kink #kink: praise kink #kink: creampie #kink: fingering

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