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pluviophile-imagines · 4 years ago

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Grandkittens

in which you come home one day to find another cat in your apartment, and the last thing you expect is for her to end up pregnant. but she does, and now you're apparently in-laws with your annoyingly hot neighbor

kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 3.4k genre: fluff, neighbor au, canon divergence (kuroo’s a grad student) type: one-shot reader: neutral (no pronouns, neutral terms, neutral clothing) warnings: light animal neglect (resolved prior to the fic’s beginning)

part of the falling for you collab

“no, it’s too cold out there today.” kuroo shook his head, dropping his keys and jacket on the counter and all but sprinting back to his bedroom as he kept talking louder. “and you don’t have time to stop by your apartment, so here.”

he re-emerged with his red hoodie and didn’t give you time to protest as he bent down and shoved it over your head. you spluttered slightly, flailing in the cottony bindings, and by the time you’d detangled yourself by putting it on fully kuroo was halfway out the door.

“thanks again! stay warm!”

and with that, he was gone, leaving you with burning ears and a dazed expression in a hoodie that smelled overwhelmingly like him.

There were two cats on your kitchen counter when you came home.

It seemed they were getting into the autumn spirit—one black, the other an orange tabby, two pairs of yellow eyes staring at you where you stood at the entrance. There was just one problem: you didn’t have two cats.

You had one cat. The orange one was your troublesome Kabo, a stray you’d taken in just yesterday but had been feeding for months, who seemed quite proud of himself for making a new friend and showing her the joys of sitting where they were not supposed to be. The black one you recognized as Mika, belonging to your (Acquaintance? Friend?) neighbor, Kuroo.

Scaring both cats off your counter as you walked into your home, you pulled out your phone to dial his number.

“‘Sup,” came Kuroo’s voice when he answered.

“I’ve got a visitor.”

Through the phone, you could practically hear the gears in his head slowly turning as he processed your statement. Then he gave a low curse. “Mika got out?”

“I’ve got her. She’s fine. But I’ll remind you that I’ve got a cat now, just by the way.”

“Did they get in a fight?”

“No, they seem to be getting along just fine.” You glanced down as Mika came up to rub at your leg.

“I’m on my way down.”

Kuroo showed up at your door empty-handed, greeting you with a cheshire grin and a breathless apology on behalf of his cat as you allowed him inside.

You had a strange sort of relationship with him; not quite good friends, certainly a little more than a simple acquaintanceship, filled with banter and awkward but endearing flirting whenever you ran into each other in the elevators or outside, grabbing a drink or two and texting occasionally. He’d moved into the apartment directly above yours about six months ago and you’d run into him that first day, offering to help him move in (which he politely declined, citing a group of friends who’d apparently volunteered to help him) and take him to dinner as a welcome (which he accepted, though he brought along the aforementioned group of volunteers and very apologetically paid for you after).

You’d always been attracted to him, not that it was particularly difficult or unusual; he was very tall and rarely let you forget it, decorated with silver piercings all over his face and swirling multicolored tattoos along his skin. Though he wore a hoodie as he came into your home, your favorite—a stylized black cat made to look like watercolor—was slightly visible if you looked just the right way under his collar, and he flashed you the silver stud in his tongue in his special greeting to you (he did it to fluster you, he openly told you as much, but over the months you’d learned to disguise how much the gesture affected you).

“Where’s my girl?” he called out. At the sound of his voice, Mika came bounding over, Kabo right behind. You wondered briefly how Kuroo intended to transport her without a carrier, but the question was never voiced as he reached over his own shoulders and tugged his red hoodie off.

You tried not to let him see you checking out his inked shoulders, now covered only by a loose tank, but you were fairly sure he was well aware.

“That Kabo?” he asked conversationally as he dropped to a squat in front of the cats and bundled Mika into his arms securely with the hoodie around her.

“Yeah.”

“Big guy, huh? Looks like he clipped his ear. Scrappy.” Cat tucked under one arm, he reached out to give Kabo a pet before rising to his feet.

“I’m taking him to the vet tomorrow. I didn’t have any time sooner.”

“Ah, you found him yesterday, right? Two days can’t hurt.”

“Well. I guess let’s hope he didn’t give anything to Mika.”

Kuroo pursed his lips, glancing down at the bundle in his arms. “I hadn’t thought about that. Lemme know the verdict, yea?”

“Of course.”

With that, you saw him out.

Kabo didn’t have any contagious diseases other than fleas, which you happily passed on to Kuroo, who told you that Mika hadn’t even caught those, much to your relief.

Which was why, two weeks after the incident, you were genuinely surprised and concerned to find Kuroo at your door exclaiming, slightly panicked but not entirely accusational, that I really hope you got your scoundrel cat neutered.

You didn’t get a full explanation from him until a few minutes later when you’d shoved a hot mug of tea in his hands and sat him down at your kotatsu.

“Mika’s pregnant?”

If you’d been taking a sip of tea, you’d have spat it out.

Kuroo groaned, nodding. “Yeah. I took her to get spayed this morning. Imagine my surprise when the vet came back and told me the procedure couldn’t be done because she had kittens in there.”

“And you think it was Kabo?”

“She hasn’t gotten out since that week, and she wasn’t gone very long. I guess she might have run into another cat, but…”

“Doubtful,” you agreed. “Kabo wasn’t neutered then—he is now,” you rushed to assure your guest as he opened his mouth, “I got it done when I first took him in, but he could have done it.”

“Good. Your damn cat is a miscreant.” Despite his words, Kuroo reached down to stroke Kabo’s back as the orange feline passed near him.

“Don’t talk about my son that way!”

“He knocked up my daughter! I blame bad parenting.”

“You should.” You leaned back, raising a challenging eyebrow and relishing the excited look in Kuroo’s eye. “He gets it from me.”

“He gets it from you? You go around impregnating poor hapless women?”

“Yep, I’ve got so many kids. Really. Child support is kind of insane. Which is why I won’t mind paying a little more.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to continue, but then his eyes widened. “Wait, no, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

You shook your head. “I’m not asking. I’ll pay for half.”

“Nah, really, I’m the one who let her out.”

“I should have taken Kabo to the vet right away and none of this would have happened,” you countered.

“Okay, but I chose to wait to spay Mika, so it’s more my fault.”

You eyed him, not willing to back down but deciding to catch him by surprise later in the conversation. “Why didn’t you?”

Kuroo laughed sheepishly, raising his free hand to rub at the back of his neck as he leaned forward. The motion let you see under his hoodie again (that same red one that he’d worn before; autumn was chilling the air and though he always felt like a furnace whenever you were near him he also often complained about the cold) and let you peek at that pretty black cat tail wrapping around to the front of his chest. He’d had it long before he’d gotten Mika; in fact, it had been on his chest the day you met him. Apparently, it was for his high school volleyball team, who seemed to still be pretty close from what you’d heard though you’d only really met one (Kozume Kenma, quiet but apparently a goddamn millionaire from playing video games because why the fuck not).

“The old lady didn’t really take good care of Mika,” Kuroo began. The old lady meant his previous next-door neighbor and Mika’s former owner; a sweet woman, but forgetful. About a month prior her son had moved her in with his family and sold the apartment, and considering his wife and kids were allergic to cats was going to send Mika off for adoption when Kuroo stepped up and offered. If you had to say it, that was probably when you realized your simple attraction to Kuroo was perhaps a bit more like a crush. “I don’t blame her, she was getting on in years so I was feeding Mika and I had a litter box that she used more than her real one by the time I adopted her, I think you knew all that. But when I took her to the vet he said he recommended waiting to spay because her hormones were off due to her malnourishment. So we set up the meeting today, a month later, to see if she was any better, but…”

“She was pregnant.”

“Yup. Two weeks. Which lines up, but to be fair I also haven’t let her out since that day…” He blinked, pouting slightly. “I promise I’m a good cat dad, really.”

“I believe you!” you laughed.

“Even though I got my girl pregnant?”

“Hey, look at it this way, now we’ll have kittens.”

“Oh, so that’s why you want to pay for half the medical fees. The grandkittens. One cat’s not enough for you.”

You snorted. “Grandkittens?”

“We’re gonna be grandparents,” he said seriously. “And if you really wanna help out the baby mama, I’ll let you. Grandparent privileges.”

It was a brilliant plan if you did say so yourself.

Over the course of the two months while Mika was pregnant, you and Kuroo grew close. Close as in you were having dinner together at each others’ apartments regularly, alternating whose and who was cooking (though you often ended up cooking together, shifting around the kitchen with one acting sous chef and the other directing). You had breakfast together often at the nearby cafe, finding yourselves regulars and earning a usual table tucked into the corner where you could sit across from each other with big mugs of coffee and breakfast pastries that you ended up sharing more often than not. And you texted more than regularly throughout the day (you were amused to find that Kuroo was much more smooth over text than in person, though you found yourself missing his occasional misspeak and blush—though not for long because you saw each other nearly every day). You soon found him a regular in your life, not a day passing where you didn’t interact in some manner, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Plus, there was the promise of kittens looming in the future.

And, of course, you took Mika to the vet. Often that was a duo thing, both of you going and splitting the tab. At first, Kuroo would go alone on occasion, but eventually he came to rely on you to do some on your own as well.

That was what he’d called you to do this morning. Apparently, some issue had happened at his graduate mentor’s lab (he was getting a PhD in chemistry, which you’d known in theory before but now you’d heard him talk for a whole dinner about his research and wow he was so hot) and he’d been called in, but Mika had a checkup so he’d asked you to help out.

So you ran upstairs and let yourself in (oh, that too; he’d given you a spare key, just in case he needed you to get Mika ready or help her for whatever reason) just as he was getting her in a carrier.

“Good, you’re here. Her appointment’s in five minutes. I’m sorry to ask so last-minute but—”

“Her due date’s soon,” you agreed. “It’s important to get her there. I’m on it. You go.”

“Thanks. You’re amazing.” He shot you that cheshire grin and ran back to his room briefly.

You approached Mika’s carrier, crouching down where it rested on an ottoman. “Hey sweetie, I’ve gotcha today. How’re the kitties?”

She didn’t respond, which was for the best considering in your experience Kuroo never wanted to leave her alone when she expressed any form of discontent. Speaking of Kuroo, he rushed out of his room with keys in his hand and a jacket draped over his arm.

“All right, I’m out. We’re still on for dinner tonight, right?” You nodded, waving him towards the door, but he frowned. “Is that what you’re wearing out?”

You frowned, glancing down. “I mean, yeah? I’m just going to the vet, it’s a short walk—”

“No, it’s too cold out there today.” Kuroo shook his head, dropping his keys and jacket on the counter and all but sprinting back to his bedroom as he kept talking louder. “And you don’t have time to stop by your apartment, so here.”

He re-emerged with his red hoodie and didn’t give you time to protest as he bent down and shoved it over your head. You spluttered slightly, flailing in the cottony bindings, and by the time you’d detangled yourself by putting it on fully Kuroo was halfway out the door.

“Thanks again! Stay warm!”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you with burning ears and a dazed expression in a hoodie that smelled overwhelmingly like him.

A week later, Kabo didn’t greet you when you got home. You frowned as you hung up your coat. That was a little concerning; he always came running when you opened the door.

As you made your way through the apartment, you also noted with confusion that Kuroo’s hoodie was missing. You recalled draping it over the couch that morning (you still hadn’t given it back; not that you meant to steal it entirely but rather that he always smiled when he saw you in it and you always told him you’d wash it first so you just kept it), but the familiar red fabric was distinctly missing when you passed your living room.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket just when you turned away. You reached in to take it out, glancing at the caller ID to find that it was Kuroo and bringing it to your ear just as you entered your bedroom.

And froze.

“Mika’s gone,” was Kuroo’s greeting, panicked and loud and fearful. “I came home and I can’t find her anywhere and—”

You cut him off. “She’s here. Come down.”

He hung up immediately.

Mika had apparently snuck into your apartment in your absence and made herself at home in the corner of your room, lying upon the bunched-up form of Kuroo’s red hoodie with Kabo and three tiny bundles of fur snuggled into her.

Kuroo was knocking at your door within minutes. You dashed to let him in, opening to find him doubled over and panting. Apparently, he’d sprinted down. You grabbed him by the bicep and hefted him up, dragging him into your home, not bothering to make him take off his shoes or coat as you led him to your bedroom.

“She had them,” you told him breathlessly.

The sentence was all it took for him to start running with you, bursting into your bedroom at your side and earning the both of you a berating meow from Kabo.

Kuroo only laughed at that. “Alright, dad, got it.”

Slowly, carefully, you both approached and then eased yourselves down in front of the little family of five. You expected him to pull away now that you were in a larger space, but instead, he eased himself closer, sliding in beside where you were kneeling so that your legs touched and bracing himself with an arm against the floor behind you. You could feel his head just beside your right arm, breath fanning out against your wrist and sending goosebumps rising across your skin. It was all so light, though; hesitant, until you reached over and rested a hand on his thigh and he relaxed, moving his own arm slightly closer to you so that it almost touched your waist.

You wrenched your attention away, scared (though you knew it was a stupid fear) that he’d hear your heavy heartbeat, and focused on the kittens. While you’d been too preoccupied thinking about telling Kuroo where his cat was before, you now were able to fully look at them.

There were three little newborns lying there, with tiny pink noses and little wiggly ears and twelve teeny paws total. Two of the kits were the spitting image of their mother and father, respectively; the pure black and the orange tabby, still too young to open their eyes and see if the matches were identical. The last one, smaller than that others but more ferocious in shoving them away for their mother’s milk, was a black and orange tortoiseshell.

“Well,” you spoke up, “we’ve got at least one female.”

“They’re so small!” Kuroo cooed. “Look at my girl, she’s such a good mother.”

You snorted. “Kabo’s not a bad dad either.”

“Yeah, but we both know who’s doing all the work.”

You had to stifle the barking laugh that threatened to disturb the peace.

“Hey,” Kuroo said as your muffled giggles faded, “is that my hoodie?”

“Looks like it.” You hummed. “She must have dragged it all the way here, ‘cause I certainly didn’t have it before.”

“Oh, really? Mika started giving birth and decided to come visit you but also grabbed my hoodie from my closet and— oh?” Kuroo’s teasing voice cut off, going soft and quiet. You snapped back to where he was looking to find that Mika had apparently heard her name.

She’d stood up, grabbed the tortoiseshell by the scruff, and was now making her way towards you and Kuroo leaving a nervous looking Kabo and two very confused (one very loud) kittens.

“For me?” Kuroo asked reverently, but she bypassed him entirely to approach you. You gasped softly, holding out your hand for her clear desire to place the kitten in your palm.

“Wow,” Kuroo drawled out. “D’you believe this Kabo? I’m her own father and she picks the neighbor to show her kids first.”

You weren’t really looking at him, too enthralled by the little bundle of fur in your palms (she was so small, all soft and squirmy, quietly mewling for her mother until you lifted a singer finger to stroke at her head and placate her), but you spared Kuroo a brief glance to stick your tongue out at him childishly.

You didn’t expect him to peck you on the nose in retaliation.

That got your attention. You blinked in surprise, mouth going slack, but the expression Kuroo gave you said he was just as surprised as you were by the action. His eyes grew wide as it registered, red rising on his face and crawling down his neck. He opened his mouth, and something told you he was going to apologize, but then Mika approached him and he was given a solid distraction in the form of a black kitten being dropped into his large hand.

His embarrassment was clearly forgotten in favor of the creature he was now being given the chance to hold. You understood; it was kind of incredible, new life literally resting in the palm of your hand. And Mika willing to let you hold them; that was special, you knew.

Though right now, despite the tortoiseshell in your hand, you only had eyes for the way Kuroo was looking at his own bundle of joy. Deciding not to think too much about it, you inched your way closer and eased yourself up on your knees to press your own fleeting kiss against his cheek.

There. Now he wouldn’t get into his head about kissing you before.

You looked back to Mika, still softly stroking the kitten in your hand. She’d returned to her spot on the hoodie, grooming the remaining third kitten as Kabo groomed her.

“We agreed on keeping three, right?” you asked.

Kuroo didn’t respond. You glanced back at him to find him staring at you. The eye contact snapped him out of it, making him shake his head and blink rapidly before shooting you that familiar cheshire grin.

“Yeah, we’re keeping three.”

“Good. Think of any names?”

Kuroo hummed in response. “Yami.”

For the one in his hand, obviously. You glanced down at yours. “Shinrin?”

“I like it.”

“Koba was almost called Kaede,” you said. “We could use that, too.”

“Yami, Shinrin, and Kaede. That was easy.” Kuroo nudged you. “Now give me back my hoodie.”

“That’s so cruel! Mika’s using it!”

“After she’s done, then.”

“I wouldn’t want it anyway, she probably gave birth on it.”

“Oh, so now that the miracle of life happened on my hoodie you’re too good for it?”

“It needs to be washed first.”

“I’ll wash it and give it back to you, then.”

“Fine by me.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #kuroo x reader #kuroo imagines #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu server collab #mine.🌧#char.🌧 kuroo #fic.🌧 grandkittens

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inaflashimagine · 4 years ago

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Pumpkin King

Pairing: Ushijima x Reader

A/N: My first Haikyuu HQ collab piece and I’m so excited! I hope you all enjoy, and check out the other fics from the collab (goes live tomorrow) here!

Warnings: Pure fluff

WC: 2.2k + bonus featuring Tendou silliness

–

You still can’t tell if forgetting your jacket was a blessing or curse.

In reality, you didn’t forget it. Rather, it was the weather that deceived you, your phone assuring you that it would be an unusually sunny and warm autumn day.

But here you were, slightly shivering in the middle of a pumpkin patch alongside a quiet 6′2″ giant, his presence yet another surprise on this Sunday afternoon.

“Ushijima, how are you not freezing?”

The man just blinked, unfazed. “I rarely feel cold.”

Today was the last day of the annual Miyagi Pumpkin Festival, a tradition you’ve held close to your heart since childhood. For the past two years, your roommate had accompanied you to the event to celebrate finishing the first two months of the hectic semester. Considering this would be your last year at Shiratorizawa, you were excited to cherish the last festival with them before going off to University.

But earlier this morning you were immediately shocked to wake up to the sounds of your friend sneezing and hacking up a lung.

“I feel like crap, there’s no way I’m going. I’m sorry!”

“But it’s the last day of the festival!”

“Yeah, and if I go, it’ll be my last day on Earth.”

You knew you couldn’t blame your roommate for something beyond their control and even offered to stay to take care of them. But they only refused.

“Why don’t you find someone else?” Another sneeze. “I don’t want to pass my germs onto you and I know you really wanted to go.”

Which is why you found yourself knocking and opening the door to a certain dorm, immediately begging Tendou to join you.

“Sorry, Y/N-kun, I’m a bit behind on my school-work~!” sang your red-headed friend, who seemed more occupied with reading this week’s Jump instead of his textbook.

You sighed dejectedly, ready to leave the room.

“I can accompany you, if you’d like.”

Tendou stopped his page mid-turn and looked curiously at his serious roommate, wondering if those words actually came out of his mouth.

You halted, stuttering, “R-really?”

Ushijima nodded. “Yes, I read about the festival in an ad. It sounds interesting and I don’t have volleyball practice or homework.”

Tendou smirked at your wide eyes and gaping mouth. He—and possibly all of Shiratorizawa but Ushijima—knew about your three-year-long crush on the Ace. He was also painfully aware about your fear of immediate rejection by the blunt man. In fact, this was likely the longest conversation you’ve held with Ushiwaka.

Deciding to play Devil’s advocate Cupid for the day, Tendou instantly ushered you and his roommate out of the dorm before shouting, “Have fun!” and slamming the door.

After a silent bus trip and now standing in the cold, you found yourself unabashedly staring at the powerful volleyball player, still processing how a socially awkward man of few words could cause your brain to feel so muddled.

The intense gaze he returned caused a warming sensation in the pit in your stomach. But you continued shivering, a trembling feeling you couldn’t solely attribute to the crispy air.

“Well,” you mumbled as you broke eye contact, “my arms are about to fall off.”

Suddenly, you felt something wrapped around your shoulders. You looked up at Ushijima, surprised to see that he only wore his long-sleeve sweatshirt while his Shiratorizawa jacket was on you.

Despite the material being quite light, the realization that his jacket was engulfing you caused your body to feel like it was on fire.

And although he still held that stoic expression, you couldn’t help but look the opposite, a growing grin on your flushed face as you thanked him.

He gave a curt nod before changing the topic, as if his actions weren’t a big deal.

“I’d like to see the 50-kilo pumpkin, if that is alright with you.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

It was as if a light was switched on after the incident, emboldening you. During the hayride taken to see the large pumpkin, you ignored the ample space on the wagon and sat closer to him, intentionally brushing your shoulders with his and attempting to see how long of a conversation you could strike with Ushiwaka.

And maybe your brain was still malfunctioning from earlier, but you swore he was just as curious.

As you marveled at the sight of the large pumpkins, gushing about how much you loved pumpkin pie, Ushijima occasionally recited some random fact about the squash in the most monotonous tone.

“Pumpkins were brought to Japan in 1542 by the Portuguese.”

“Kabocha can refer to the Western pumpkin, the winter green squash, or other squashes.”

“The Miyazaki prefecture is known for their hyuga pumpkins, which are black-skinned squash.”

You blinked slowly at the Wikipedia bot in front of you. “How do you know all of this?”

There was a pause and a furtive, almost shy, glance at his surroundings, as if he was debating whether he should tell you. His olive eyes hesitantly met yours again, a vulnerability you never imagined would come from the confident Ace.

“I took an agricultural class for an elective last year. I like to grow vegetables.”

Despite his emotionless explanation, you couldn’t help your excitement upon learning that he liked something other than volleyball. “That’s awesome! I wish I could do the same. What do you like to plant?”

Ushijima blinked as he tried to hide his shock at your enthusiasm. He’d never seen someone listen so intently to his words as he described his favorite vegetables to grow in the enormous Shiratorizawa Academy Greenhouse.

It was weirdly satisfying to see your constant encouraging nods and hearing the occasional, “Very cool!” He enjoyed volleyball, and that took precedence over everything, but it was oddly comforting to hear someone support his other interests. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever discussed this much information about agriculture to someone other than his own mind.

“Oh, I forgot to mention it earlier when you were stating those facts, but you have a great voice for those BBC documentaries.”

“I do?”

“Definitely, you sound like Morgan Freeman! But better.”

“Who is that?”

You never answered his question because you couldn’t stop laughing over his perplexed expression. It was quite a boisterous sound that he’d usually find annoying if it came from anyone else.

But seeing your body covered with his humongous jacket and shaking with that constant loud giggling actually made a weird feeling rise in his chest. Ushijima simultaneously wanted to dispel the feeling but continue sensing its lingering presence. He felt something lodged in his throat, and he tried clearing it.

“Oh, your throat must be hurting since we’ve been talking so much in the cold.”

“Yes, you’re right.” At least that’s what he wanted to believe.

“Well then, follow me, I have an idea!”

You suddenly took his wrist, your cold fingers refreshingly cooling him as the heat radiating off him provided you much-needed warmth.

And he slightly missed the light squeezing pressure of your hand on his wrist as you let go and entered the gift shop, Ushijima trailing behind.

“I didn’t realize we were ending the trip so soon.”

You chuckled lightly. Were your ears deceiving you or did you hear disappointment laced in that statement? “We’re not, but there’s a cafe in the corner. Wait around here.”

While Ushijima wondered if he should buy a pumpkin-themed calendar or a pumpkin keychain for Tendou, he felt someone nudge him.

“If it’s for Tendou, definitely get the calendar. That boy needs some organization in his life.”

The Ace nodded and grunted in agreement before turning around and seeing your smiling figure holding two hot beverage cups, the steam graciously warming both of your faces.

“What’s that?”

“A pumpkin spice latte! Try some.”

Wakatoshi had never heard of such a bizarre drink but thanked you before grabbing the cup and sipping generously.

It took all his might to not spit it at you. How could something be so sweet and pungent at the same time?!

“Are you sure this has pumpkin?”

You rolled your eyes at his uncharacteristically puckered face and tried your best not to erupt into laughter. “Guess it’s not for everyone. How about we just get tea?”

As you and Ushijima exited the shop and walked toward the last stop of the festival, teas in hand, you couldn’t help but smirk as he complained about the farm’s reputation of pumpkin-growing if they could not make good pumpkin-flavored beverages.

“We should find the owners and talk with them about this.”

“Sure, Pumpkin King, but let’s do that after we decorate these pumpkins.”

Ushijima didn’t even realize where he was, his mind preoccupied with the nickname you spontaneously gave him, until he saw a few tables containing medium-sized pumpkins and paint sets.

“Painting?”

“Yup! We just design them to our liking and then a judge chooses the best one.”

While you both painted the pumpkins, Wakatoshi was less focused on the task before him and found himself listening to you explain how significant this festival was for you.

The way you described your family and friends, a large grin reaching your shining eyes, caused that strange sensation he felt earlier to resurface. But this time, he definitely didn’t want it to go away.

“Earth to Ushiwaka?”

“Yes?”

You laughed softly. “You have paint on your cheek.”

Without hesitation, you dipped your finger in a clean water bowl before gingerly rubbing the paint off. As soon as the orange smear was gone, you realized how invasive that might have seemed and your cheeks became as bright as the red autumn leaves around you two.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened as he uttered your first name. His face was still unfazed, although he touched his cheek, wondering why it was slightly tingling.

Before either of you could say anything else, one of the judges stopped by. “Oh, is that a volleyball you made? What a change from the usual designs!”

You felt your face burn even more when the judge sent a pointed look toward your pumpkin, littered with paintings of bats and ghosts.

“Yes, they both have similar shapes. A volleyball is rounder, though.”

“I would hope so! Here, I’ll put a ribbon on yours for ‘Most Eccentric’!”

You laughed at Ushijima’s dumbfounded expression, a slight frown tugging his lips when the ribbon was placed on the part of pumpkin still drying from the paint, ruining his perfect volleyball.

“I guess you’re a Pumpkin King after all!”

—

“I can’t believe you said that to the farm owner!” Your teasing tone was not evident to Ushijima’s ears, who suddenly felt conscientious about his actions.

“What did I say wrong?”

You only shook your head amusedly as you and Ushijima entered the school grounds, seamlessly continuing the non-stop conversation you two held on the bus ride home.

“You said that his drinks were deserving of ‘zero stars out of five’.”

He merely blinked and nodded as you both walked to his dorm. “Yes, I just said the truth. I used the online ranking system that sports stores have when I purchase volleyball equipment.”

“Well, hopefully this trip to the festival wasn’t a 0/5.”

“No, it wasn’t. I’d say the date was a 5/5.”

You both were now standing a few feet away from his dorm door, a large grin spreading on your face as he said that certain word. He probably didn’t even intend for it to be interpreted that way, but his typical blunt tone was softened, the overall meaning behind his statement as sweet as that sugary latte you drank earlier.

A few seconds passed, both of you just staring at each other, the air far more comfortable than the initial awkwardness in the morning.

You were the first to look away as you crossed your arms, hoping your next words wouldn’t make the atmosphere weird. “Well, thanks again for coming with me. I had a lot of fun.”

“Yes, I enjoyed it, too.”

“Oh, and thanks for this jacket. You saved me there.”

You shrugged off the large clothing, reluctantly returning it to the owner with an embarrassed smile. Forgetting your own jacket was a definitely a blessing rather than a curse.

He nodded before putting the jacket on. “Of course. Or we wouldn’t be able to see the 50-kilo pumpkin.”

You rolled your eyes, internally laughing at yourself for falling for such a dork. “Right. Anyway, I hope to see you around soon.”

“Me too, L/N Y/N.”

Feeling a sudden surge of courage, you balanced on your toes and whispered in his ear, “Look in your pockets,” before leaving a chaste kiss on his cheek.

You refused to look back at Ushijima as you sped to your dorm, hoping to contain the nervous excitement coursing through your veins. But he certainly heard your frantic, “Oh my gosh, ohmygosh,” as you rounded the corner of the hallways, no longer in sight.

Curious, Ushijima placed his hands in his pocket, trying to ignore your scent lingering on his jacket as he felt for anything strange.

When his left hand pulled out the object, he couldn’t control the tiny trace of a smile playing on his lips when he saw an envelope containing pumpkin seeds, a small note attached:

What’s a Pumpkin King without his patch of pumpkins?

BONUS:

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu fluff #ushijima imagine #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima fluff #haikyuu discord server #haikyuu server collab

243 notes · View notes

seokiloquy · 4 years ago

Text

Pumpkin Spice - Miya Osamu

AU: Regular, coffee shop(?)

Server Collab (Linked)

Tags/Warnings: GN Reader, swearing, time-skip spoilers

Word Count: 9.2k+

Working at a cafe in the middle of the busy streets of Tokyo’s business sector often led to many customers in need of a nice brew and in association, tips. Lots of tips that often fell into your pocket at the end of the day. The pay was good enough and made up for the moderately long commute from your campus that you spent sleeping on the train. On top of that, your boss was the nicest and most supportive old woman in downtown Tokyo.

The interior of the cafe was soft and homey in comparison to the reflective silver exterior of the building outside. Seats with red vinyl cushions filled the open area leading to the wooden top counter that you worked behind, mixing up whatever ludicrous drink they asked for. The customers loved you. You loved the money. It was the best.

It was sunny that day, people were smiling for once as they walked to work for once. The traffic was light, people weren’t running late, and to top it all off you had just gotten an email that morning with the mark for your latest assignment, a perfect grade.

“We’re closing.”

“Like, just for today, right?” you asked Juri, brows furrowed as a disbelieving smile pulled on your face as if you were being pranked. She gave you a sad look. “Right?” you repeated, pouring in a measured amount of coffee beans into the espresso machine.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Juri gasped. “The building owner jacked up the renting price and I just can’t afford it now.”

You reached behind you for the counter, gripping it tightly between your fingers as you pulled yourself closer to slump onto it. A dull ache began to grow right between your eyes. “Don’t apologize, Juri. There’s nothing you can do. I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s a lie,” she spoke after a moment, skating over the thin ice that froze over your conversation. “You can spend more time studying now at least, university gets harder in your final year.”

“University’s the reason I needed this job though.” You walked around Juri’s stout form, reaching for the coffee machine, grabbing hold of a mug and readying yourself for the freshly pressed beans. “I have to pay for it somehow.”

“(Y/N), darling, maybe a three shot espresso isn’t the best thing to have right now.”

You gave the old woman a sour look over your shoulder before shooting back the mug of dark bean soup. Immediately, your tongue tried to escape your mouth. “Oh god, you,” you gagged momentarily. “You were right. That was horrid.” An uncomfortable shiver ran over your shoulders and through your spine.

Juri’s wrinkled hand came to rest over the black strap of your apron that hung desperately to your shoulder, squeezing it tightly to the point of bruising. She pulled you down roughly and flicked your forehead with her nail. “Stupid,” she chastised.

Walking to the sink, she grabbed the mug you held and rinsed it out before handing it back to you, filled to the brim with cold water. She rubbed your back, encouraging you to suck back the water to rid the bitter taste from the corners of your mouth. “If you want, I’ll write up a letter of recommendation for your resume.”

“I’m not sure whoever would hire me would take the time to read it, no one uses reference letters anymore. But thank you, I’d appreciate it.”

She smiled, making the wrinkles on her face shift slightly. “Anything for you sweetheart. Besides, you’ll need every advantage you can get with your horrid cooking.”

On your last day of work, Juri sent you off into the dark streets of Tokyo with a notebook filled with homebrew, baking and cooking recipes —the last two being one’s you have never and likely never will touch— and a container of cookies that she had made that morning.

The book, in and of itself, was innocent enough. A relatively mute earthy colour palette that made flowery designs from one edge to the other. But, you knew there had to be some secret spells of torture within the pages, or just something that you’d injure yourself with.

Not even a day later, far into the night, a sugar-covered cookie was left forgotten on your table as you scrolled through job listings on your computer, occasionally getting distracted by the scantily clad fictional characters that promoted a game on the edges of the webpage. You reached for the cookie, shooting your eyes back to the list and scrolling.

Your dorm was rather modest, more like a small apartment when compared to some of the other dorms on campus though. Which admittedly saved you money and made it more expensive at once. With your own kitchen and modest living space attached to a bedroom and bathroom, you successfully managed to isolate yourself from any other students in the building for just an extra fee. Luckily, having a kitchen meant that the school didn’t supply you with food, saving you money, but also leaving you starving since the only recipes you had in your head were for coffee. Moment’s spent in your kitchen alone with a grumbling stomach sometimes made you wish you were roomed with another person, or had taken the university's food plan. Curse your late teenage pride.

The walls were off white, surrounding a room filled with mostly dark furniture —namely navy— and reflecting the light that came off your computer screen. They made large shadows against your floor and walls. Your two fingers swept along the mousepad, moving the dry list up your screen. You bit into the cookie, quickly scarfing it down and clawing for another, mumbling to yourself as you skimmed over all the nanny jobs, and full-time positions. Corporations that would likely not give you enough pay were quickly forgotten, also.

The neighbours above you were playing study music rather loudly, letting the smooth sounds seep through the walls gently, it made you want to sleep, they probably had an essay to work on. You sighed, rubbing your eyes before sparing a glance at the time displayed in the corner of your screen. 1:32 am. Swallowing down the tired taste in your mouth, you swiped your fingers harshly against the pad, entirely too tired to do any more thinking and letting the loading screen of the website choose your job for you. You threw your head back, slumping into your seat with a worried wince, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t regret it.

You squinted at the top result of the most recent listings. “Huh.”

The black uniform wearing man scratched his head through his matching, logo crested hat, making it shift slightly to reveal his dyed hair underneath it. You sat silently on the plush stool at the counter as the older man —he couldn’t be much older than you, could he?— skimmed through your resume lightly before reading the reference letter Juri had written for you. The sweater he wore tightened at each opening, puffing out into what looked like a cozy crewneck. Definitely not the most common uniform for a food establishment, but you wouldn’t complain, it was starting to get colder. He rested his elbow on the counter-table, turning the top of his stool to face you directly.

“You’ve never worked in food before?”

The open-concept space of the man’s restaurant/cafe seemed to close in rapidly, making the light brown tables and decorations blend in with the white walls and red seats. The colours spun in your vision, blurring all your surroundings except for the tall, hunched man in front of you. He seemed to pop off the screen of your static vision with a halo of light surrounding him. You blinked rapidly, mentally shooing away the loopy visions. There wasn’t enough sleep in your system. That and it felt like you were about to be penalized.

Noticing his intense, stoic eye-contact, heat from your stomach rushed up to your cheeks and ears. He had pretty, grey eyes. Your lungs vibrated under your sternum as you tried to suck in enough air to speak. A bashful smile crept onto your face as your fingers fiddled together, occasionally dragging the pad of your thumb over the length of your nails.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve never been very good in the kitchen. Juri, my old boss, wouldn’t let me help her with baking the pastries because I would always burn myself. I’m working on it though.” That was a lie, a total lie. You weren’t working at it at all. You continued, laughing at yourself, “Because of that, Juri always had me doing beverages. So when I saw you were looking for a barista, I applied.” Well, that was only a partial lie.

The silver-haired man chuckled lightly, “I received your request for an interview, your request, 5 minutes after I posted the listing.”

Biting your lip, you reached for a napkin from one of the dispensers as you forced yourself to maintain eye contact. He seemed to enjoy watching your fingers fiddle with the limp piece of paper. You coughed, “Is that a good thing? Cause my desperate self is in need of a job. I’ll even risk burning my hands off if that’s what’s needed.”

He laughed again, taking the black, curve-rimmed hat off his head and set your papers down next to it on the sleek wooden counter. “(L/N), relax. I am looking for another barista, I had my previous one go work at our second location because it’s closer to home. So I’m short-handed and know only the basics about coffee, and with winter fast approaching I need help.”

You ripped the tissue paper in your hand in half before compiling it and stuffing it quickly into your pocket. “Does that mean I’m hired? Cause I need to pay for my tuition.” He watched, an amused smile pulling at his face, he stood up gesturing for you to follow him. With an awkward grin, you followed his silent instruction.

The rectangular counter you were sitting at wrapped around the back corner, creating a two-metre space walkway that led to the bathrooms and cut off an unlabeled wooden door from being easily accessed by customers. You followed his steps, watching his black Adidas sneakers step over the lines of the large wood floor panels. He opened the wooden door, gesturing you inside, before pulling a box off of the shelf that sat against the back wall and dropping it onto the counter next to a sink. Pulling out a cozy-looking crewneck sweater with a proud and yet desperate smile.

“This is the kitchen and break room,” he said, throwing out an arm to the rest of the large space, before walking back over to you, sweater and cap in hand. “Can you come in tomorrow? I can show you the ropes.”

“I’m sorry Miss, but we don’t have that drink here, it's not the season yet.” You smiled apologetically at the older woman who was digging through her bag in frustration. You hated telling customers little white lies, the feeling dug at the sides of your stomach each time you had to. It was becoming more frequent with October fast approaching.

“I’m sorry too,” she replied, letting her purse drop onto the counter with a smack. “My daughter has been nagging me all day to pick up one of these drinks and no one has it yet.”

You flexed and clenched your fist underneath the counter before adjusting your cap to try and give the woman a confident facade. “We’ll be getting the ingredients next week, so hopefully she can hold off until then. For now, would you like some onigiri? They’re freshly made.”

“Please.”

After ringing up the woman’s total and sending her out the door with a wave, you turned to your co-worker with an anxious grin. Taichi scoffed in response, openly laughing in your face. “You have to stop lying to our customers!” he berated with a lopsided expression.

“I know, I know! But I hate seeing them annoyed or upset. I can’t help it that they keep asking for a drink that we can’t make!”

The 1st year university student (who you quickly found out went to the same school as you) chuckled, leaning against the onigiri display. “What are the ingredients for it anyway?” he asked, watching you rest your hip against the counter next to the cash register.

“One cup of pumpkin puree, half a cup of sugar, half a teaspoon of pumpkin spice seasoning but that’s optional. That’s to make the pumpkin sauce. Then you need a quarter cup of pumpkin sauce, two ounces of espresso, eight ounces of milk, and then whipped cream and cinnamon on top,” you listed, staring off onto the floor.

“You have that memorized?” Taichi asked rhetorically, mouth hanging open.

You crossed your arms. “I’ve been working as a barista for over 3 years now. You start to remember things.”

Taichi lifted his hat, taking a moment to ruffle his straight cut black hair before setting it back down on his head. “Well, you can just ask Miya to order some, right?”

Snapping your finger, you sent the younger boy a finger gun with a pensive look pulling your eyebrows upward, “I hadn’t thought about that.”

On your next shift, after an early morning lecture about the global economy and stock market (which you tried not to sleep through), you walked into the break room to find your silver-headed boss curl over the edge of the small round table in the corner of the room while sitting on the old futon next to it, hair tousled in an oddly pleasant way. His hands moved quickly as he scribbled into the papers before him, the tight grip on his pen making his muscles flex slightly in his arm, that was made visible by his rolled up sleeves.

You quickly looked to your shoes, trying to calm your breathing down. “Um, Miya,” you called lightly, trying not to startle him. Nearly dropping the pen in his hand, he looked up. “Sorry,” you said, pulling your hands into the sleeves of your uniform.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m almost done,” he said, watching your fidgeting hands. “Did you need something?”

“Pumpkin sauce.”

He gave you a strange look, nose scrunching as a single eyebrow lifted. “Pumpkin sauce? Oh right, that’s a thing isn’t it?” Miya said as if just remembering the time of year, looking away from your wiggling fingers to the empty kitchen across from him.

You gulped. “Yes, for pumpkin spice lattes. A lot of customers have been asking about it.”

He raised the other eyebrow in your direction, trying to strangle down a teasing laugh. “You lied to the customers didn’t you?”

“I might have told a little white lie so they wouldn’t get upset.”

Miya sighed, holding eye contact with you for a moment, before signing the last sheet of paper in front of him with an entertained smile. He looked back up while gathering the papers into a neat pile. “I’ll get an order in by next week.”

“Thank you.”

Why did you ever decide that philosophy was a good thing to take in university? Seriously. What were you thinking? You stared at the empty document before you, blinking tiredly as you groaned.

Aesthetics. The first unit that your professor chose to discuss for a university-level because it’s likely the easiest to discuss. The essay itself was more introductory than anything. The instructions were to write an essay about how aesthetics and attraction to particular aesthetics are created, how society plays a role, and finally, your own personal stance.

You clearly remember glaring at the young professor when she said she wanted to gain a deeper understanding of each student. That’s for high school, you thought, mentally going over the three years of university you’ve already suffered through. Then again, maybe an easy grade. The only downside was that even though you’ve gone through nearly a decade and a half of school, you’ve never been good at writing an introspective piece.

“Professor Suzuki, How introspective should it be exactly?” you had asked her after the lecture had finished.

She gave you a sharp pointy smile with a light, slow shrug. “However much you think is needed. But I do want to learn about you and your experiences.”

Your brows were pinched together tightly, as you tried to understand. “So like an attraction autobiography?” That's deeply concerning.

She never did give you a clear response after that. Dancing around the direct answer you needed to hear. She must’ve been a high school literature teacher at some point.

A self-deprecating chuckle escaped you, making the younger boy who was lazing about on your couch turn his attention away from the tv. “What crawled into your pants?” Taichi asked, pouring the last remains of your chip bag into his mouth.

“I have to write about stuff for a philosophy essay.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of an essay?” The empty chip bag crinkled loudly in his hands as they folded the plastic messily.

You scowled at him. “If you’re going to be a smart ass you can stop eating my food and go back to your dorm.” Standing up from your kitchen counter, you scanned the junk-filled counters, eyes landing on the small carpet patterned notebook that sat sadly on the corner edge.

Taichi ran up from his seat, pleading for you to not send him out, claiming that his roommate was mean and hogged up the whole space. You partially ignored him, letting his yapping ring numbly in your ear as you flipped through Juri’s old recipe book.

“Wanna help me make cookies?” you asked, turning your head his way and effectively cutting off his rambling.

He paused, letting his bottom lip hang open before snapping it shut in a cautious sneer. “You’re deciding to bake? I’d rather risk getting bullied by my roommate. Bye.” He ran out of the dorm. Ran.

“God, my baking skills don’t warrant that kind of a reaction, jeez,” you huffed to yourself, slamming the notebook shut. No longer in the mood to experiment in the kitchen.

“Did the new rice come in?” the blond asked, letting his whole torso lie flat on the short table extension of the main counter.

The light click of a plate resonated in the empty restaurant. “You’re lucky,” the grey-haired one said, monotone response making the other look up to the large, meat-filled onigiri waiting for him on the porcelain plate. “Fresh shipment just came in this morning.” At the entrance of the building, the bell attached to the door sang lightly as it opened. Notifying your entrance, while a cool autumn breeze rolled past you. “Speaking of shipment. (L/N), the pumpkin sauce came in!”

You unravelled the scarf around your neck as you walked, giving your boss a large grin that made him gulp slightly. “Really? That's amazing, Miya..” The blond, noticing the other man’s reaction upon your entrance, spun in his chair, making his honey brown eyes meet yours. “There’s t-two. Two of you?” The scarf you had taken off sat limply in your hand as you stared off blankly at the two identical men.

“(L/N), this is my brother. You can call him Atsumu.”

The blonde sent you a small vibrating wave and a smirk, leaning his elbow against the counter as he tilted his head in your direction. With tightened brows and a tight, awkward smile, you nodded in response, bowing as your hand began to grip your colourful scarf a bit tighter. The blond followed up his brother’s introduction. “If you’re gonna call me Atsumu, you might as well address him as Samu.”

“Samu?” You questioned.

Over the table, ‘Samu’ smacked his brother with the black cap from his head. Hitting his shoulder with a loud smack before facing you. “Osamu is fine.”

You nodded hesitantly before bowing again. “Call me (Y/N), then. The both of you.” Facing your silver-haired boss, who still gripped his black baseball cap tightly between his fingers, you pointed to the back room with a meek smile. “I’m gonna go put my stuff down. Sorry for being a bit behind. I was up late working on an essay.”

Osamu nodded. “Sure thing, I have a new recipe for you to try out when you come back out,” giving you an understanding smile before ushering you off to the back, watching the folds of your jacket move with each step. He gulped. As soon as your back fell behind the door frame's edge, he weaponized his flimsy hat again, making the older twin howl as the top button hit his temple.

“What was that for?!” the fake blond screeched.

Osamu sent him a deadly glare. “Don’t flirt with my employee. They’re too young for you.”

“We’re the same age, Samu,” Atsumu teased, as he dropped his voice a couple of semitones. “I don’t see you restraining yourself.”

Atsumu left Onigiri Miya with a number of small bruises running along his hairline that morning. Though, he refused to leave without sending you a request to watch his upcoming game. “I want to have everyone watching,” he said, forgetting to even tell you what you’d be seeing, leaving his younger twin to take the burden.

You sat on one of the red plush stools, swinging it side to side and Osamu stood on the other side of the counter, onigiri filled plate in hand. He wore a hesitant grin as he set the plate down in front of you. Then, he started talking as he walked around the counter. “They’re slightly different than the ones I usually make so they look a bit weird, but we had the ingredients so I thought I'd play around with the different flavours.”

The store was empty. As expected for an early Saturday morning. It was also windy outside, making the inside of Onigiri Miya feel that much warmer as the howling wind ran loudly against the glass wall of the entrance, occasionally making the polyester awning above the entrance flap around like paper.

You gave him an encouraging smile as he walked around your seated form, nearest hand brushing over the length of your shoulders through the black sweater. A chill ran down your spine as his hand fell from the end of your shoulder. He sat down beside you, spinning the stool to face you head-on, much like how you both were during your interview. “I’m sure they taste great. What are the fillings?” you asked, reaching for one-half of the two pairs of onigiri on the plate.

“Well, since the pumpkin sauce came in, I figured I would play around with it a bit,” he said, reaching for one of his own.

Once you bit into the centre of the rice ball the smooth sweet flavour of the sauce rolled over your tongue. The orange sauce dyed the rice on the inside, making the colour soak in the individual grains. You let the flavour sit on your tongue for a moment. “Were you going for a sweet onigiri?”

Osamu chuckled a bit. “Kind of. I made the other one more savoury though.”

You looked at the other slightly misshapen onigiri on the plate, then up at the maker of them, meeting his eyes with a kind supportive smile. “The choice is yours,” you said, taking one off the platter and taking a large bite out of it. “But I think they’re both pretty tasty.”

“Really?” he asked, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you in earnest. “Not too sweet or bland?”

“They’re perfect. Just like the chef who made them," you complimented happily.

Osamu flushed slightly, trying to pout as he chewed away at his onigiri. "You don't have to be so nice, they still look a bit lopsided."

"Does the appearance of the food really matter? I thought the taste was the biggest factor," you teased lightly. Whenever you made a brew for a customer, most never really cared if there was a cute design sprinkled on the top, or if the layers were visible from the side of their plastic cup if they took it to go. All you ever focused on was the taste, and when the 7 am rush comes through, patrons are typically too tired to even care about the look so long as they get their dose of coffee in.

"Do you never look at the exterior of things? Most consumers judge their first impressions of things based on their appearance. Like book covers."

You furrowed your brow. "I've never really thought about it. A lot of the books I read are digital now so there's no need for a fancy cover."

"What about people then," he prompted, leaning further forward, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. His normally grey eyes seemed to hold tints of the honey brown from those of his sibling. "Have you ever... let's say, been attracted to someone based on their appearance alone?"

Your gaze shot back and forth between his eyes and the fringe of his silver lightly brushing over his eyebrow before finally settling on his left, blown out pupil that started more directly at yours. "Maybe subconsciously." It came out in a light whisper.

The bell at the entrance rang, a ragged, tired looking suit-clad woman wobbled in. Eyes blinking slowly as she waved her hand in the air. "Light roast, double shot espresso with whipped cream! I am running late!"

You shot out of your seat, knocking off Osamu's hat by the brim with your own, before grabbing a mug from over the counter and rushing to the mixtures. "On it!"

"Thank you," she panted, handing her card to Osamu to ring up.

Your head and shoulder twitched as you bounced on your toes outside the glass wall of Onigiri Miya. The wet concrete and frozen air of the early morning made the idea of curling against the polished glass with your face tucked into your scarf all the more tempting. Another silver tickled your spine.

Groaning you spun around to face the golden brown and red streets. Wind carried the dry leaves over their drowned sibling until falling into a puddle themselves. You closed your eyes, trying to redirect the heat in your body to your hands that were tucked into your pockets, clenched tightly.

Something cold lightly smacked against your nose and eyelids.

Cracking your eyes open, your lashes pushed against a brown decaying wall that blocked out all the light of the early morning. When it was away, leaving a cold residue behind, the light made your squint.

“You're here early,” the silver haired man said, tossing the old leaf over his shoulder before pulling a collection of keys from his coat pocket and gently tucked you out of the door with his free hand. Opening it up, he placed the keys into his back jean pocket.

“Did you just give me a face mask with an old leaf?”

“Sure did,” he said, matter-a-factly. “Why are you here so early? You’re not a morning person.”

You followed him through the glass door, letting him take the responsibility of flicking off the lights as you pulled your coats and scarf off. “You said today was your brother's game, I didn’t know what time, so I figured I'd be here a bit early.”

Mouth open, Osamu stared at you without blinking, as if searching for a joke. “You know most post games happen in the evening right?”

“So I’m here early for nothing then.”

The two of you walked through the empty restaurant, coats slung over your arms as you conversed.

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” he teased, hanging up his coat on the hanger in the back, lifting the bottom hem of his shirt slightly. “You get to work.”

“Yay,” you yawned, reaching for your uniform sweatshirt.

“For money.” He added.

He had trouble making you laugh throughout the morning, only receiving yawns and frustrated pout in response as you made coffee for all the equally tired customers.

You’ve never seen a volleyball game before, only ever having tried to play during gym class in high school. On top of that, you never understood the rules, but you blamed that on the phys ed teacher rather than your own inability.

The live recording of Astumu’s game was being played on multiple sports channels. It got pulled up on the large screen of the tv that sat against the wall 30 minutes before the game even started. Osamu stood with you and Taichi —who had made it to work at a reasonable time to watch the game—, explaining the rules and positions over layers of customer chatter, as he made onigiri in view of the game instead of in the back where he normally worked. He pointed to the screen.

“That’s Hinata in the opposite hitter position. He pretty much does the same thing as Bokuto,” he shifted his arms angle to point to the duo-tones haired player on the screen. “An outside hitter.” Then, facing you, he watched as your nose scrunched in thought.

“What makes them different, then?” Beside you, Taichi nodded along, handing a customer a plate of onigiri.

“Their orientation with the setter,” Osamu replied. Before letting out a loud cheer, fist clenched and elbow tucking quickly into his side as his brother scored another point.

You let out a loud, exasperated laugh, shaking your head slightly. “There are a lot of rules and stuff you want me to memorize.” On the other side of the counter, a girl came up to stand in front of you, asking for a pumpkin spice latte. “Sure thing. Taichi, ring her up for me would you?” you asked, making your way to the coffee machines that sat along the length of the counters, continuing to talk to Osamu.

You looked at the available ingredients. “We’re gonna need more pumpkin sauce.”

“I’ll order it. Is it that confusing?” He asked, following you to the machines.

Mug in hand, you gave Osamu an unsure look as you reached for the whipped cream, stretching your arm only to knock it farther away. “A little? But at least their mascot is cute.”

“The black jackal?” he laughed, taking hold of the whipped sugar and placing it in your open palm, to which you smiled in thanks. He quickly diverted his gaze, staring at the blank walls as he bit inside of his cheek. “Didn’t even bother to listen to me ramble then, too busy gushing over the cute mascot. I thought visual exteriors weren’t important to you.”

“Oh shut up, I was listening,” you scoffed haughtily, smacking Osamu’s shoulder as you walked past his tall figure to give the girl her mug. “And he was interacting with the young fans, it was cute.” You looked at the clock. “It’s 6:30, I’m gonna take my break. I got an essay to write.”

Taichi laughed mockingly. “Good luck. We’ll hold down the fort.”

Osamu watched your back as you walked away, adjusting his hat as he turned to face the upcoming customer that had just walked in.

“Bake at 450? Oh, that's Fahrenheit? Why, though? Okay, got it. Oh shit, did preheat it too much then?”

Juri, as lovely a lady as she is, had terrible handwriting, or terrible in your opinion because you couldn’t read it. Whether it was a letter, or note for an order of cookies and bread, the intricate curls of her connected lettering always made your brain feel like it hit a brick wall. Holding the book in your right hand, you used the other to carry the tray of separated butter cookie dough and hooked your foot underneath the oven handle to pull it open. Still glaring at the writing, you slowly lowered the metal tray onto the racks.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Can—”

“Fuck!”

Taichi let himself in, turning the corner of your kitchen counter to quickly pull your hand away from the immense heat source. You clenched your teeth tightly, airy and painful laugh falling through your grimace. Dropping the notebook, you wrapped your hand around your left wrist, squeezing it tightly as Taichi helped you stand up. An endless series of insults left you, directed at the large cubic fire instrument.

“Okay cold water, here we go.” Taichi then left your side to finish tucking in the metal tray, silicone glove on his hand. He turned back around to see you hunched form leaning over the running sink, choppy breaths flying out of you. “Why are you baking?” he scolded.

“Oh, I can’t bake now?”

“You’ve never been able to bake.”

“Oh screw you, dude. I’m trying to learn a new skill.”

“Learning how to kill, more like it.”

Hand still stuck under the cold running water, and pain still crawling up your arm like red ants deciding to feast on your flesh, you slowly turned your head to face the younger boy, smacking your lips. You glared, “Why are you here, Taichi?”

The new university student dug his socked toe into the tiled floor of your kitchen. Pursing his lips and sending you a pair of finger guns as soon as he met your glare. He lowered them when you didn’t laugh. “I was hoping you could take care of my closing shift tonight? I have a group assignment due tomorrow and no one did any work.”

Spinning your head and torso uncomfortably to look behind you, you stared at the clock on your wall. You bit your lip. “Taichi, your shift starts at 6.”

“Uh, ya.”

“It’s 5:30.”

“Uh-huh,” he continued, barefaced, as he tucked his hands into his jean pockets.

“You're working here and waiting for the cookie timer to go off.”

Taichi nodded, moving his feet to look at the oven counting down. “Okay, got it. Do I get to eat some of them?”

You sneered at him as your blistered hand throbbed painfully at the movement of you grabbing your things, notebook included, in haste. “If they don’t kill you.”

“Osamu! I’m so sorry for being late!” You yelled rushing through the main door and startling a few customers. You ran towards the staff only door unravelling the warm scarf from around your neck and letting your jacket fall off your shoulders as you went.

Osamu’s eyes followed your frazzled movements, chuckling lightly as you kicked the wooden door open. He yelled through the door as you changed into your cozy uniform. “Calm down, (Y/N). You’re not late. Taichi called in too, so don’t worry.”

You poked your head through the door, brows pinched in the center before slowly walking up to stand next to him. “So I’m not late?” you asked, adjusting your hat.

The customers had gone back to their individual activities, typing away at their computers or reading whatever book in hand or chatting over a simple brew and snack Osamu had put together for them. You looked out the front window, the sun was already beginning to set over the darkening leaves, letting a warm glow pour in through the glass to cover every surface inside the cafe despite the temperature outside being the opposite.

The evening was spent with both of you helping the late-night customers with their requests, often having to dance around each other's forms with a light ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’ to notify the other.

“Thank you both. Have a good night!” the last customer called, waving, as they walked through the door.

Osamu waved back as you collected the mugs and plates that were left at the tables, taking them to the back room. “I’m gonna wash these up then take my break. Is that alright?”

“No problem, we probably won't see anyone else for the night so I can handle it.”

The door swung shut behind you.

When you turned on the tap hot water poured out quickly, and without thinking much of it, you stuck your left hand under it. You flinched, letting out a strangled yelp before switching the water to cold, letting it wash over somehow forgotten burn on the back of your hand. You sighed at your own stupidity, grabbing a dirty plate. Luckily the dishes were quick to clean, the light music you set up on your computer beforehand helped. Before you even realized, the dishes were washed and dried, and you could get some work done on your essay.

You sat down on the couch futon, blowing cold air onto your burnt hand that you switched tabs on your laptop. The constant yawns escaping you only seemed to make lying on the slightly deformed seat way more tempting than trying to get some school work done.

“Can’t do beauty standards, everyone’s gonna do beauty standards,” you yawned again, taking your fingers off the keyboard and turning your eyes away from the bright screen. Your eyes burned as you closed them, leaning your head back against the back of the folded futon. Another yawn. “Maybe books covers?” you breathed slowly. “Hmmm.”

On the other side of the door, Osamu wiped down the table seats and counters until they were spotless, letting the red vinyl and wood patterns shine through uninterrupted. As he cleaned the glass front, squeegeeing it to crystal clear perfection, Osamu watched as the last bit of sunlight that bounced off the top of the buildings across the street disappeared. It suddenly looked a lot colder in the streets.

Hanging up the damp towel, he made his way into the backroom, flicking off the lights in the main area as he walked through the door. “(Y/N) how’s the essay going?” he trailed off, catching sight of your curled up body lying sideways along the old couch, laptop continuing to play a soft tune.

You had one foot off the couch, touching the floor, and another resting on the wooden armrest. The open legged sweats you often wore were crunched up at the knees. Your torso was twisted so you were partially on your side and your hands were pulled into your chest. Mouth slightly parted, Osamu could hear your small breaths as your chest rose and fell.

He chuckled, walking over to your side, and glancing slightly to your screen. The essay you had been rushing to complete was left open, unfinished. He closed the computer, tucking it into your bag, pulling out a small notebook to make space. The bookmarked page fell open as he set in down on the table. With a curious huff, he read the recipe over.

“Huh, simple enough.”

As he reached to gently shake your shoulder in hopes to wake you up, he caught sight of the burn that ran along the back of your hand. Huffing, he lifted his hand, put the book back in its place —tucked between your laptop and the side of your bag—, and walked over to where the first aid kit was.

A scratchy hum was the first noise you made upon waking up. Bleary-eyed, and drained of energy, you slowly blink up to see your hand being gently wrapped in a soft cloth-like bandage. You squinted up to the black-clothed man as he fastened the bandage together.

“Did I really fall asleep?” you asked sadly, voice slightly hoarse. “I have to… write.”

The light in the room was dreadfully bright, making you squint as you tried to look at Osamu’s face. All his features were hard to see, leaving only his hair as an anchor point for you to admire as the light bounced off of it.

He said something, but in your delirious state, all you could make out was the smooth deep hum of his voice reverberating in your head like a slow waltz. You hummed again, letting out a lethargic ‘nice’. Your eyes shut again, and you drifted off to his low, breathy chuckle. An unconscious mumble followed, but you were too tired to hear his immediate response.

“Come on (Y/N),” he cooed, massaging your shoulder gently. “Time to wake up.”

Another incoherent mumble bubbled out of your mouth as Osamu tried to sit you up. Your head bobbled as you moved to be upright, falling backwards before he could catch it. Chuckling at his own mistake, he stuck an arm out, curling his hand around the back of your neck to bring it forward again. As he cradled your head gently in one hand, he used the other to continue prodding at your shoulder.

“Okay, sleepyhead. You gotta wake up now.”

There are those moments where people wake up and they think they see an alien, or shadowy figure at the edge of their bed. Those scary figures that seemed to carry a negative connotation a majority of the time. Most people, if they were to wake up, eyes fuzzy, and see a silhouette immediately before them they would very likely think the same, flail about, and duck for cover. You were not most people.

Eyelids hanging millimetres away from shutting, you gazed drowsily at the blurry from before you, tired mind trying to put together the dark shape as your body swayed back and forth. Falling forward slightly to get a closer look.

Osamu grunted slightly, catching your limp weight. The hand he used to rub your shoulder had now made its way around your back, lifting you from a different angle. His other hand still protected your neck from strain, holding your head closer to his chest. He looked down at your hazy gaze, perfectly timed with your own sudden need to lean upwards.

A near chortle of a huff forced its way out of Osamu’s nose, painting your cheek in warm air as your eyes shut fully. The feeling of your lashes dancing against the bridge of his nose tickled, making his shoulders scrunched up slightly. His grip tightened, pulling you ever so slightly closer. The light scent emitting off of your hair washed over him like a wave of fresh air, and the heat radiating off your body felt like a warm blanket on a cold night. There was a light tug at the end of his sweater as you wrapped the fabric gently between your fingers. Tough dried from being parted in your sleep, Osamu could feel the malleability of your lips as they pushed against his.

This one last surge forward, you let your arms relax, falling almost entirely limp in Osamu’s arms as you pulled away.

He blinked slowly, trying to look at the colour of your eyes between the slits of your lashlines.

Another warm hum left you was your head curled into his shoulder. “Cute.”

Osamu scoffed quietly to himself, laughing as he shook his head. “You never stop lying.”

Osamu liked to think he was a nice brother, a good brother, the best even. He kept his twin out of trouble, made sure he didn’t get injured and protected him from bullies. All for the payment of letting Osamu torment him for all eternity with repeated punches and kicks. Osamu liked to think he was a nice brother, but he wasn’t.

“Assumu, shut up or I’m gonna punch the daylight out of you.”

“Vulgar. That’s a new one, Samu. Try me.”

Hinata grabbed hold of the blond twin’s forearm as he made taunting motions to his brother, pinning it down onto the table. The smaller red-head cried out for the two brothers to stop, calling for Bokuto’s aid.

“Ya, both of you stop it. I’m trying to eat here.”

From behind his white mask, Sakusa let out an exasperated sigh, brushing a hand through his wavy hair at the part. “Would you all calm down?”

Atsumu teased out a laugh as he settled back into his seat between Hinata and Bokuto, who both happily went back to eating their donated snacks. The blonde leaned his elbows onto the counter and bounced a leg beneath him as he looked up to his uniform wearing brother.

“So,” he drawled, smirking at the grey-haired man. “You kissed (Y/N). While they were asleep no less. Doesn’t that seem kind of rapey to you?”

Osamu groaned, ripping the black cap off his head before throwing his arms into the air. “I didn’t force it! (Y/N) was hardly even awake, definitely in some sort of dreamscape, and then just kissed me.” He groaned again, knocking his forehead into one of the coffee machines, making it rattle lightly.

“Damn,” Atsumu replied, finally relenting his mockery and reached for his own onigiri. “Guess I lost my chance then. Do you know if they even remembered it though?”

Setting down his hat, Osamu walked around the counter, pulling up a chair from one of the tables to sit with the four teammates, making them spin in the stools.

“No idea. I just drove (Y/N) back to the university dorms with Taichi’s help.”

Bokuto’s muffled voice spoke up, as he tried to talk through his full mouth. “How is Taichi doing anyway. It’s been a while since we’ve seen him.”

Osamu grimaced at the visible mushed rice poking out between the duo-toned man’s teeth. “He had a project to finish, that’s why (Y/N) was here last night. Overall he’s been doing good though.”

Hinata swallowed his last bit of onigiri, turning the top of his stool to face the older man more clearly. “When will we get to meet (Y/N), then? We could probably see them both at the same time.”

Osamu scrunched his nose up, digging his face into the palms of his hands and let out a tired, run-down laugh. “Hopefully soon if I don’t get arrested for sexual misconduct.”

Sakusa glanced at the drink orders that were written in chalk against the side wall. “Hey Atsumu,” he switched the subject. “Can you make me a pumpkin spice latte?”

Sighing, the owner of the restaurant got up from his chair and walked back to the coffee machines he had earlier abused with his forehead. “I can give it a go, but it definitely won’t be up to (Y/N)’s standards.”

Sakusa just waved it off, not caring.

“I mean, they’re still bad, but at least they’re better than last time.”

You stopped your slow typing and let out a puff of hot air. “If you actually helped maybe you’d be eating better cookies.”

“Hey hey, no no no,” Taichi laughed, munching into another dry cookie from the pile. “You’re the one that wanted to learn a new skill.”

You threw your head back into the soft couch of your living room and grabbed one of the throw pillows from the corner, shoving your face into it to muffle your angered scream. Running out of air, you dropped the pillow into your lap, shutting your eye tightly as you panted for air.

“Here,” he said, stuffing one of the burnt biscuits into your open mouth. “Eat a cookie.”

Taking the box of poorly made cookies with him, Taichi stood up from the wooden bench at your kitchen counter and made his way to flop down onto the other side of your couch. He stuffed another straight into his mouth as he kicked his slipper clad feet onto the coffee table right next to your laptop.

“So, What’s got you all wound up? It has to be more than these cookies.”

“I,” you paused, taking a large intake of decaying leaf air into your lungs through the open window. You got up, wiping your hands on your well worn sweats, and shut the window lightly, so the only thing coming in though it would be the view of red leaves. The palms of your hands dug into the window sill. “I need to get this essay done. It’s due in two days.”

“Not buying it. Keep going,” he said, flicking his finger in a circular motion in the air.

You sighed, still looking at the old piles of leaves in the courtyard outside your dorm. “My baking skills still suck, this essay is due in two days, and I still haven’t written the personal reflection portion of it.” You spun around and leaned against the window, challenging Taichi’s disapproving expression.

He tsked, sucking in the air. “There’s something you're not telling me. What happened?”

You quickly diverted your gaze to the top corner near the exit. Your nails made a clicking sound as they flicked against each other. “I, I can’t.”

“(Y/N),” he strained.

“Nope.”

“(Y/N).”

“I can’t.” You played with the bandage on your hand.

“(Y/N). You’re lying to yourself.”

“I’m gonna get fired.”

Taichi stood up from the couch, stalking over in your direction, meaning to pin you into the corner. He stood tall in front of you, arm crossed as if he were a principal. “(Y/N), what happened?”

“I kissed our boss.”

“You did what?”

You squeaked uncomfortably, thrashing your arms about and shaking your hands to calm your nerves. Head thrown back, you yelled. “I kissed Osamu!”

His arm dropped. Taichi threw his back into a curve, spinning around as he laughed wildly in sharp honks. “That’s amazing!” he squealed, throwing himself onto the couch and kicking his feet into the plush armrest.

“Shut up, I could get fired!”

Taichi, gasping for air, sat up from his fit of giggles and sighed. “Okay, what the hell happened?”

You puffed out an annoyed gulp of air and waddled over to the couch, slumping into the open space next to him. He leaned forward, beckoning you to talk.

“I was half awake, delirious after trying to write an essay about fucking aesthetics and attraction of all things. Osamu tries to wake me up, and I plant a big one on him before falling asleep again.”

Taichi laughed, happy to hear your tale. “That’s what happened yesterday? I just thought you were overworked.”

“I was!” He smirked, watching you squirm around. “Don’t take it out of context, you know what I'm talking about.”

“Fine, fine.” He relented and reached for the half-empty box of cookies, holding it in your direction. “Eat one. You need it.”

You frowned as you bit into the over-salted cookie, swallowing it as fast as you could before the taste settled in your mouth.

“Besides,” He said, grabbing another for himself. “I don’t think getting fired is something you’ll have to worry about.”

Long night shift. The sun had fully set, making the neighbouring stores’ exterior decorations glow in all their spooky glory. You shivered as you yawned, feeling cold air run over the length of your shoulders underneath your sweater.

With a spray bottle and damp towel, you swiped down all the counters, really digging into the coffee stains that were left by an overworked mother and her grumpy toddler. For the umpteenth time that night, another yawn tore it’s way out of you as you walked toward the sink behind the counter to wash the dirtied cloth. You kept your bandaged hand out of the hot water, doing your best to just use the one.

After ringing out the both you grabbed one of the clean mugs from the counter, stalking over to the coffee machines to whip up something for yourself. You yawned again.

“Tired?” From the backroom, Osamu emerged, hands tucked neatly behind his back.

“Hmm? Oh ya. I’m whipping up a pumpkin spice mocha of sorts. Don’t want to fall asleep again.”

Osamu coughed and leaned against the counter next to you, setting down a small box that you didn’t bother to look at, too busy with your coffee. “Ah, right. Do you mind making one for me too? I’d like to be coherent, tonight. I’ll grab some fresh onigiri too.” He smiled at you.

Trying to beat the heat that was quickly climbing up your neck to try and darken the colour of your cheeks, you bit your lip and poured all your focus into the orange-hued liquid in front of you. Behind you, Osamu reached for the freshly made onigiri from the chilled display case. You could hear the fabric of his sweater shuffle as he bent down to pull it out. You reached for the whipped cream with your eye tightly sewn shut.

“Got it,” he said as you turned around with both mugs in hand.

Once in the back room, you set down both mugs onto the table, before sitting down in one of the corners of the futon, letting him take up the other half. Osamu sat down slowly, pushing the second onigiri your way. “Eat up. You can restore some energy.”

You thanked him before taking a bite from the rice ball, it was filled with spicy salmon. Smiling, you took another bite.

Osamu took a sip from his coffee, trying to lick off the leftover whipped cream from his upper lip. It looked like a small mustache, and you laughed.

“Enjoying the food, over there?”

You chuckled again. “It’s great, but. Jeez, you have a mustache.”

Osamu grumbled, whipping the top of his lip with his thumb. “Here,” he said, grabbing the small box off the table and holding it out to you. “These are for you.”

Setting down the half-eaten Onigiri, hesitantly took the box between your fingers. You gave him a confused look as you brought it into your lap. Lifting up the attached paper lid, you found yourself staring at a small collection of cookies, iced and cut to look like the adorable black jackal mascot from his brother's team.

“I saw the recipe in your notebook that...night. I wanted to make you something as an apology, and you said that the mascot was cute.” You looked up to see him scratched back of his head, staring pensively into his mug before glancing up to meet your eyes. He flinched back, pursing his lips and racing to look at the mug again.

“You don’t have to apologize, Osamu. I initiated it.” you reached into the box, pulling out one of the cookies and took a small bite out of the jackal’s ear. “I didn’t hate it either.”

You chuckled in embarrassment, watching from the side as his ears turned a rosy colour. Taking another bite from the cookie, you leaned forward a bit, trying to catch sight of his pink cheeks through his hanging fringe. You prodded.

“I did call you cute too, remember?”

Your fingers danced over your laptop’s keyboard.

I don’t often find myself thinking about the way aesthetics affect my opinions. Looks, trends, and opinions are always evolving and changing. I don’t have the capacity to keep up with such superficial things in the same way a majority of people do. Though, on a rare occasion, I will find something endearing enough to call ‘cute’. /

Outside your window, you could see the last few leaves fall off their branches. You sat down, curled up on your dorm’s couch as you saved the final copy of your essay, nibbling away at the cookies that sat on the table next to you, pumpkin spice latte in hand.

This is now the longest thing I’ve written thus far, and so the next few I write will be short cause I’m lazy.

Once again, this oneshot is part of a fall themed server collab, the masterlist is linked at the top, so I recommend that you give all the other stories a read, I would appreciate it. -Bacon

Posted: 25/09/2020

47 notes · View notes

xmyshya · 3 years ago

Text

What the fvck

summary: Your long term boyfriend leaves you for someone else (no cheating), so you decide to take revenge on the most important person in his life. But it takes an unexpected turn... genre: angst, smut, a pinch of fluff? warnings: fighting, falling out of love, breakup, swearing, MINORS DNI betas: @vivianvampyric thank you so much, my love. What would I do without you <3 special thanks: to @karasunowo for this beautiful Osamu doodle <3 and my soulmate @bokutosace for pushing me past my block <3 a/n: Fic is a part of the Anilysium server collab with a prompt: hate/revenge fucking. You can find the masterlist here. @hqintheclub wc: 3.2k edit a/n2: thank you so much for the love and all the feedback I got from you, you're seriously amazing <3 I'd like to officially announce that there will be part 2, once I figure out my irl urgencies! If you'd like to be tagged in its release, let me know!

“What the fuck?!”

Eight years. Eight fucking years reduced to this one sentence.

“Am sorry, I really am.”

To be fair, Atsumu does look sorry—with pain besmirching his big brown eyes, usually so warm and bright; a quiver of his bottom lip and muscles shifting in his jaw; and the way he’s fiddling with his fingers, something he almost never does. Something about precious setter fingertips.

“I don’t give a fuck, Atsumu! How could you?!” He shrinks in on himself.

“I— We haven’t done anythin’, I just— A wanted ta be fair ta ya.”

You scoff. Fair. How is dumping a girlfriend of eight years after living together for five for some other chick fair? How is falling in love with someone else after making promises of forever since high school fair?

You’re surprised you haven’t started crying yet—maybe it’s because of the shock, maybe it’s the rage, or maybe it’s your pride and not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you break down. Although between the breakdown and your current outburst, you’re not sure which is worse.

“Look, yer free to stay ‘ere fer as long as ya want. I have a place ta stay, I’ll grab ma things when yer out. I owe ya this much.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”

“I do. I— I better go now. Bye, Y/n.”

Closing the door of your shared apartment (not anymore, you realise) opens a door somewhere inside of you, and you burst in tears. And then you cry, and cry, and cry, until your eyes are swollen and burning, and you can’t open them anymore.

The next few days are a blur; you're not quite sure if it's a day or night with your closed curtains, you fall in and out of an uneasy slumber, and don't remember the last time you ate or showered.

The rage has burnt everything in you, leaving nothing but ashes and dried tear trails. It's bizarre, not feeling anything—a little bit like drowning, a little bit like floating, a little bit like suffocating.

On the fifth day of this timeless suspension you realise that the noise you hear isn't an earthquake; it's just your stomach demanding something, anything. But there's nothing at the apartment, you've already ate whatever was still consumable, and the rest is spoiled.

You're still standing in front of the open empty fridge, deciding on whether to go shopping or not, but the loud grumbling makes the decision for you. But first, you need a shower.

The water feels magical as it flows down your body. It's warm, bringing back sensations in your numb limbs. It cleanses the dread, removes dust, and all the dirt and worries disappear down the drain.

It's kind of refreshing to wear clean clothes after these few days and leaving the apartment, even if it's to go to the grocery store right next to your building. It's almost normal to pick the rice, vegetables, meat, and fruits.

Back at a home that isn't yours, the ingredients for a simple dish are simmering in the pot, and you hum happily while mixing. It's a sound that these walls haven't heard in a while, and it still lingers when you pour the soup in a bowl.

You sit at the table, clasp your hands together with an echoing clap and mutter an itadakimasu. And then it hits you, again. You're at the table, alone. About to eat dinner, alone. You're in this flat, alone. He's not here anymore, not yours anymore.

The dish is forced down your throat, spoon after spoon, even when you choke back the tears. It burns, it hurts, it threatens to go back up, but you continue, swallow after swallow. Because the world hasn't come to a halt, even if yours did.

There's a soft knock on the door, and you notice the room is filled with a red-ish, pink-ish light. You have survived another day, you think glancing at the setting sun.

---

"What the fuck." Osamu mutters under his breath and considers running away. "Why am I even doing this for that dick?"

He knows what Atsumu did. He knows that sometimes things like this happen and it's not necessarily anyone's fault. He's mad because he would never treat you like that. Maybe giving you up back in high school in favour of his twin was a mistake.

The man drags a hand down his face and knocks. Part of him hopes you're out, that you won't open the door and he won't have to pretend that he doesn't see your red, puffy eyes. Another part hopes that upon seeing him you'll just throw yourself into his arms in search of comfort.

There's a click of a lock and then a voice,

"'Samu?"

---

"'Samu? Come in, please."

It hurts how identical they are. Even despite different-coloured eyes, despite Osamu going back to his natural hair, they are so undeniably identical twins. Fuck.

"Would you like some tea? I don't have any coffee, sorry."

He hates the expression you're wearing, he hates how obvious it is that you're in pain, and he hates how it's probably because of his face. He shouldn't overstay his welcome, shouldn't break you any more, but he just can't leave.

When the drinks are ready, both of you sit at the table, the same one that you used to dine at with his brother. Judging by the look in your eyes, he's occupying Atsumu's chair, inflicting damage yet again.

The awkward silence fills the room; neither of you know what to say, because really what is there to say? Between the sips of a hot brew he opts for a meaningless small talk, one of about weather, because any other topic seems dangerous.

Time passes, and after many deafening tick-tocks it's suddenly too dark to see your undereye bags. You stand to turn the lights on.

"'Samu?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

He looks at you and gulps, not sure of your reaction when he says his name.

"To— to grab 'Tsumu's stuff."

"Did he— he asked you to?"

Osamu nods, and you can feel your blood boil. He was with you for eight fucking years, and he doesn't have the decency to come himself? He threw you away like trash, and he doesn't have the courage to look you in the eyes? He has to drag his brother into this?

You're angry, you're so angry, and the only thing you want is to devastate, to hurt, to break, to trample, just like you were devastated, hurt, broken, and trampled. Osamu stands in front of you.

"Am sorry, Y/n. Am so incredibly sorry."

Blinded by the rage, you hide your face in Osamu's chest, crumple his shirt in your fists, as you decide to destroy the only constant in Atsumu's life. To rip off something that was always his and claim it as yours, even if it’s just for one night.

He’s mad too; he gave you up all those years ago for his brother, only for him to step on it, and in the name of what? He’s spent all those years watching your relationship bloom, wishing you were his instead, but you belonged to his twin, you were untouchable, unattainable. But now, the very same brother left you, spat on Osamu’s sacrifice, and ran away. So he’s going to steal you away, claim you as finally his, even if it’s just for one night.

He hugs you tight, rubbing soothing patterns on your back, and mumbles apology after apology. If there was anything he could do, he'd do it in a heartbeat. There's not one thing he wouldn't do for you.

"'Samu, what's wrong with me? Am I not enough?" You mutter into the fabric. Hook.

"Huh? No, Y/n, look at me." You lift your face and look at him with doe eyes. Line. "There's nothing wrong with ya, yer a wonderful woman." Sinker.

You keep your gaze on him for a moment, pull him down by his shirt as you stand on your toes… and then you kiss him. A gentle peck right on his lips, then another one before you capture his bottom lip between yours.

"I— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I don't—"

You push yourself off of him, babbling and pretending to panic, but in the corner of your eye you see how much he liked it. Perfect. So you place a finger on your lips, as if the sensation of him still lingered there, and shift your gaze at him.

Everything becomes a blur when you keep looking at each other, millions of feelings swarming in his eyes, a dangerous glint in yours. Everything is hazed over when he pulls you in and crashes his lips on yours.

His warm hands slide under your shirt against your cool skin and you gasp at the sensation. He wastes no time and kisses you deeper, harsher, with a tongue teasing at yours. You wonder if it tastes as sweet to him as it does to you.

Your impatient fingers tug at his shirt, wanting to feel him closer, sooner, right now. The kiss is broken and as if on command, both of you take your shirts off. Osamu's arms snake around your waist again, pulling you into him and into another searing kiss.

It's full of longing, full of hunger, overtaking your senses like a storm. There's just Osamu and the taste of his tongue, the feeling of it sliding and swirling around yours, and the stinging of his bites on your bottom lip.

He pushes you backwards until your thighs hit the edge of the table; you're lifted to sit on it as the black haired twin sucks hot marks onto your neck. His hands are on your thighs, digging in the soft flesh through your pants, and he moves them towards your ass, not forgetting to tease the creases with his thumbs.

A shiver runs down your spine and straight to your cunt; it’s a forbidden fruit with an alluring scent, and you want to bite into it, devour it whole, even if it consumes you back. Just the idea of the act is so sinful, that you can’t help but wonder if the heat inside you is arousal or hellfire.

Osamu’s huge hands unclasp your bra and throw it somewhere on the floor, then they move to cup your tits and squeeze them. His lips are on yours again, kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, as if he’s been waiting for it for a lifetime. A pinch on your nipples makes you release the sweetest little ‘ah’ he’s ever heard in his life.

You’re growing impatient, you want him to finally fill you up, so you tug on the band of his sweats and he gets it. Leaning on your palms you lift your hips us, giving him the opportunity to take both your pants and panties off. Where they land afterwards, you don’t know.

One of his hands reaches straight to your pussy, fingertips prod at the entrance and smear your juices all around your folds.

“Fuck.” He breathes into the kiss. “Yer so fuckin’ wet.”

He flicks your clit a few times and you arch your back in response. Osamu smirks; you’re so sensitive, so responsive, he can’t wait to pull all kinds of sounds from your lips, especially his name. He doesn’t have to wait long though, a few rubs and pinches on your nub and you let out a breathy “‘Samu…”, and he swears he could cum at that moment.

His touch feels so much different from his brother’s—his hands are rougher, fingers thicker, which you notice as the man slips one of them into your cunt. It’s so different but so good, intoxicating even, and you nearly lose your mind when another one joins in.

There’s a steady pace of the pumping of his digits, in and out, in and out, with each time the base of his fingers rubs against your clit. Your walls are squeezing him, nails digging in his shoulders, and when you moan his name again, he has to be inside you. Now.

Osamu pushes you gently so you lay down on the table, and gets rid of his sweats and boxers in the meantime. Your knees are spread wide to invite him into your leaking hole, and he enters in one swift motion. The next few seconds are still, it’s time to adjust to his size, to this new experience, but soon enough he moves again. Tea cups fall to the floor and shatter, but neither of you notices.

At first the thrusts are slow, careful, and he’s watching your face closely for any signs of discomfort. They don’t appear, so the pace is a little quicker, the push a little harder. It’s happening, it’s finally happening, the moment he’s been dreaming of for years at last coming true. It’s difficult to control himself, and soon enough his cock is drilling into you with a force that will surely bruise your cervix.

You’re so full of him, he’s invaded your pussy, your mind—in this moment your whole existence screams “Osamu, Osamu, ‘Samu.” You tell him to go even faster, even harder, to hammer out every thought out of your head. He complies, pulls you closer to the edge of the table and leans down over you. His hands grip the opposite edge of the furniture and Osamu makes an experimental thrust.

And then he’s ramming into you, pushing his cock even further in your cunt, and it’s a miracle that your table is still in one piece. You wrap your arms around his, nails digging in his shoulder blades, as the familiar heat blooms in your abdomen. One of your hands reaches down between your bodies, the other still holding onto him for dear life.

You rub your clit in circles, his cock covered in your slick gliding against your fingers, and you suppose you can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can he, both your brains turned into mush, and between incoherent moans and groans of oh gods and fuckfuckfucks only three words are exchanged.

“Where?”

“Inside. Pill.”

Your thighs shake around him, body arches off the tabletop, and your cunt sucks him deeper and deeper with every clench. His cock twitches at every spasm but he needs to be patient, you need to fall first. And you do, after he suckles harshly on your nipple, with a loud scream of his name. His name. This is what pushes him off the edge, and he spills inside your throbbing pussy in hot spurts.

There’s a moment of silence, only your quickened pants fill the air. You’re still wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and Osamu thinks that maybe this is his chance. Only chance.

“Lemme take ya to bed.” He whispers in your ear and you nod, so he lifts you off the table and carries you to the bedroom.

He lays you down gently, hovering over you, and captures your lips between his once again. Only this time it’s slow, gentle, full of all the words he’s never said. Because this time is not about the hot eruption of anger, not about revenge. It’s about you (and maybe him, if you allow it), about the worship and unspoken feelings.

His kisses trail down, caressing every inch of your skin, every crease and mound of your body, until you ask him to fill you up again. Only then does he push in again, rolling his hips calmly, almost lovingly. Only then does he whisper how beautiful you are in your ear. Only then does he make love to you, until you both fall asleep.

---

You’re woken up by a clinking noise coming from the kitchen, but it takes a moment before your awareness comes back enough to actually process what’s happening. There’s still a faint scent of a cologne and sex in the air; the pillow next to you is rumpled, same as the sheet.

Then it dawns on you—memories of the last night and who you spent it with flow freely into your mind. You wonder if the noise coming from outside of your bedroom is made by your latest hook-up, who just so happens to be your ex-boyfriend’s twin. Your feet search for the slippers but find none; you just throw some t-shirt from the floor on you and patter barefoot to the kitchen.

You’re welcomed with a sight of Osamu’s bare back, very muscular back, marked with long red stripes and a bite mark on his shoulder. There’s a familiar throbbing between your thighs, and it suddenly feels so empty without his cock; even though it’s wrong, it’s wicked, it’s salacious. What the fuck?

The man is still unaware of your presence, digging through the cupboards in search of bowls, plates, chopsticks—anything to serve the breakfast in. For one person, as you notice. Everything is ready, so he places the dishes on a tray and turns to put them on a table, only to be startled by your figure.

“Oh god, ya scared me.”

“Good morning to you too, ‘Samu.”

There’s an awkward silence; you’re still standing facing each other—you in his shirt, him with a tray.

“I made ya breakfast. Thought you’d be hungry when ya wake up.”

“You’re not gonna eat?”

He’s still standing there, but now his eyes are trained on the food, as if he was counting the grains of rice.

“A don’t think ya’d want my company.”

“I do. Stay. Please?”

The smile that shows up on his face is faint, even less visible than the sudden glint in his irises. But he stays, plates another set of dishes and sits by you at the table. The rest of the meal passes in silence; only after the bowls are empty do you speak,

“‘Samu, I’m sorry, I- I used you to—”

“Do ya regret it?” He doesn’t let you finish, his gaze is intense, taking in your confused expression. “Sleepin’ with me. D’ya regret it?”

You let the question sit in your mind for a moment, wait for your conscience to object but it doesn’t happen, so you reply simply, “No.”

“Good. I don’t either. I used ya too, ya know.” Your confusion changes into disbelief, so he leans back on the chair with a sigh and continues. “I got mad. Back in high school I stepped back from pursuing ya. I told ‘im that if he’s serious about ya, A won’t stand in the way. And then looked at ya both wishin’ t’was me. With you. But that dickhead threw it away. I was so mad that I wanted ya to be mine, even just for a moment, yanno?”

It’s a lot to take in, what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? Twin brother of your now ex-boyfriend, the one you have just spent a very pleasant night with, has been feeling something for you? For this whole time? You watch as Osamu shifts to lean on his elbows on the table, face hidden in his palms.

“Sorry for droppin’ that bomb on ya.”

“Do you… Do you still…”

“Love ya? Yeah.” Your heart skips a beat at his words.

“Wait for me. Wait until I heal.”

It’s a selfish request, you know it, but Osamu nods anyway. There’s something to look forward to now, because when you heal, maybe you’ll make the choice you were deprived of.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu smut #miya osamu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #osamu x y/n #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #hq smut #hq x reader #hq x y/n #anilysium server collab #mysh.supernova.[hq]

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bratdesire · 4 years ago

Text

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house.

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you.

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is.

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be.

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she?

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you.

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.”

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.”

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?”

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible.

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.”

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him.

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease.

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face.

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair.

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other.

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric.

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans.

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks.

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need.

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game.

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce.

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his.

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him.

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond.

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue.

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.”

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room.

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin.

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make.

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you.

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices.

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see.

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy.

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples.

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore.

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end?

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more.

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse.

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck.

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

#haikyuu smut #ukai x reader #ukai smut #haikyuu x reader #ukai keishin #server collab #bunny scribbles #hq smut #hq fanfic #hq reader insert #haikyuu imagines

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bokuroskitten · 3 years ago

Text

“𝔥-𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫⁉️”

〈 Being Kuroo’s secretary, how can you can no ti him? Even when it seems like risky business.

❦ genre: 18+ MINORS DNI, Ceo Kuroo x Secretary Fem!Reader

❦ word count: 2.1k

❦ warnings: slight dubcon, power imbalance, daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Public sex (sex on a train), one coochie slap, dumbification, daddy kink, pantie gag.

❦ hello! This piece is for the HQHQ server collab “Risky Business.” I’m so exited to be apart of this server and this collab, as well as read everyone pieces! Y’all should check out the other creators involved as well! I hope everyone has as lovely day today. Please let me know what you think of this piece !

You didn’t want to be that girl. The girl that started wearing shorter and tighter pencil skirts to work. The girl who started leaving three buttons of her blouse undone instead of one. The girl who wore lip gloss that was just a little too shiny for the office.

But you just couldn’t help yourself. Not when Kuroo Tetsuro himself, CEO and head of the company started taking an interest in you.

You were nothing more than a secretary, fresh out of business school and trying your very best to create some sort of name for yourself in a male-dominated field. You never expected that on your very first day you’d be escorted into his office.

Never expected to see a man with such handsome features, a shit-eating grin, and to top it all off a millionaire to take an interest in you.

Things had escalated from the moment he said “My, aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

Professional touches had turned into lingering ones, fingertips trailing to the edge of your skirt and threatening to sneak underneath. Business talk had turned into hushed whispers, mumbled into your ear as you were pressed up against a desk. Meetings in his office had gotten a lot longer, and rather than leaving to scurry off to the next task, you usually left with a bit of a stumble, hair tousled and lips bit swollen.

Any thought of moving up, making a name for yourself had been washed away

They were replaced with him, Kuroo Tetsuro.

He was all you seemed to care about. All you thought about when you got ready in the morning, put on his favourite shade of lipstick. All you thought about when you managed to sneak glances at him, all you thought about when you got home, fingers knuckle deep in your cunt.

He took up all the space in your brain, and he knew it too.

Which is why he loved keeping you around, which is why he constantly pushed the boundaries with you.

He wanted to see just how obsessed you’d become, what lengths you’d go to keep him pleased.

Sure it was a little messed up taking advantage of a pretty little thing like you, but how could he not? When you followed him around like a needy little puppy, wearing his favourite things and basically begging to be used?

So that's how the two of you ended up here, on the train.

Kuroo usually never had to take the train, he had drivers at his beck and call. But since his pretty little secretary had to take it, sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.

He always loved seeing the way you’d light up when he met you at the station. When he snaked his hand over your hip and whispered a soft “good morning.”

It was still early, but the morning rush was in full effect. People filled the tram in their business attire, some chugging coffees like their life depended on it, others lost on their cellphones. The two of you found a comfy spot in the back. Kuroo held the pole above both of your heads, while you leaned against the wall before him.

Even when he wasn’t looking at you, your eyes were always on him. Scanning the buttons of his crisp white button-up, watching the way his arm muscles would ripple under the fabric when the train took an odd turn. Finally, when he brought that cat-like gaze down to meet yours you could have sighed.

“You’re staring.” He didn’t hold back the tease in his tone, he never did anymore.

“Sorry…” You murmured, but still didn’t take your gaze away from him, not when he was smirking at you like that, not when the small pool of arousal began to sit in the crotch of your panties.

It was sad really, all it took was his gaze.

And Kuroo knew that. He didn’t even need to see the crotch of your panties to know they were currently soaked. Amber eyes lifted from yours only to take a look around the train over his shoulder.

Yea the cart may have been filled, but no one was paying attention to the two of them. Of course they weren’t, everyone was either zoned out or thinking of work.

And since you were just so eager, it seemed like a good time to indulge you.

Keeping his hand on the pole above him his other hand landed on your hip. It seemed innocent enough, large palm rubbing soft circles into your side. You snapped out of the little happy trance of yours when his long fingers travelled up, fingers brushing over each one of the buttons on your blouse.

And undoing them.

“K-Kuroo-San…” you muttered. Frozen. You never said no to him, why would you? But you were on a public train right now, surrounded by a bunch of people.

His facial expression never changed, the same old smirk on his face, brows raised and a little hum leaving his lips when his warm palm slipped into your blouse. He squeezed your clothed breast, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Kuroo-San” you repeated, this time a little more desperate.

“What, Kitten?”

“I—We’re on..”

“On the train? Yes smart Kitty, we are.” He was so condescending, long fingers slipping under your bra to tweak at your perk nipple.

You would have squeaked if you were in his office, but instead, you just bit the inside of your cheek, hard, back pressing into the wall of the train.

“S-So maybe we shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” He murmured, brows rose in amusement. His other hand finally left the pole to rest on your hip. It slid low, just low enough that the tips of his long fingers slipped under the skirt you wore, brushed along your inner thighs.

Along with him pinching your nipple, you were having a hard time keeping still. Not trusting your own mouth you just clenched your thighs around his fingertip in hopes that he’d slow down—

You gasped from the sudden smack that landed over your clothed cunt. Your eyes quickly darted around the cart, in hopes that no one had heard or seen—

But Kuroo was quick to grab your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. Despite the playfulness that still shone in his eyes, there was a sternness there that made you want to sink into the wall.

“Eyes on me, Kitty. Are you really trying to stop me from touching what’s mine?”

“Kuroo-San w-we’re”

“W-We’re on a train. Yes. I fucking know. I want to have my way with you, now. So, gimme your panties.”

You could feel it, the way you squirmed in place, the way heat flared all over your face, travelling down your chest. The way that your fingers trembled when they slowly reached up under your pencil skirts, tugging down at your panties.

Which were completely soaked, they actually left a shiny trail down your thigh.

There was no way people didn’t notice now, not when you bent a bit to scoop the material from off your ankles, fingers still trembling as you dropped the damp fabric into his palm. How could they not when he sniffed them so obnoxiously?

He didn’t say another word when he turned you over, pressed your cheek into the train wall. You should have said no again, should have at least cleaned the surface from god knows what could be on the public walls.

But you couldn’t seem to form any words or coherent thought for that matter. Not when he pulled your hips back, arching your back just enough so the bulge in his slacks could rub up against your pussy. Not when he slowly stuffed your soiled panties between your lips, whispering close to your ear.

“Stay quiet Kitten. Daddy needs to use you right here, right now. Be my good girl and take it, yea?”

You could only nod, muffling a weak ‘yes Daddy’ as your own arousal saturated your tongue. Kuroo wasted no time in pulling out his cock, sliding into you from behind with ease considering just how wet you were.

And it was thrilling, so very thrilling as he felt your walls tighten around his cock, as people shuffled by and scooted around the train just right behind them. Some people must have known, they must know that he’s currently balls deep in your perfect cunts, velvet walls already threatening to milk him for everything he’s worth.

And he couldn’t care less. If anything, he wanted them to see.

Wanted them to see just how lucky he was to have the perfect little toy, who let him fuck her anywhere. Like right here on the train.

His thrusts were quick and short, his hips humping into your ass and making the smallest of clapping sounds. His hands were firmly pressing you into the wall, keeping you still as drool bubbled from your lips, right past the pantie gag. He knew it wouldn’t take him long at all, not in a place like this, not when your cunt kept fluttering, dribbling around his cock and begging to be filled full of cum

He was so lucky to have a precious kitten who only thought with her cunt.

“Gunna fill this kitty cunt up, right here on the train, you want that, don’t you baby?”

His teeth were grazing your ear, making your eyes flutter and your head nod desperately. The angle he was at allowed for his tip to tap up against your sweet spot with every jerk, making your legs feel weak. Had it not been for the wall, or the bruising grip he had on your waist, you probably would have tumbled over by now.

“My good girl, get ready. Once daddy fucks you full, you’re gonna put those panties back on and stay full with me all day.”

Your cunt clenched around him again. There was nothing better, going into work already stuffed with Kuroo. You knew his arousal would probably find its way down your thigh while at the office.

But honestly, you didn’t care, everyone should know anyway that you're his.

His thrusts were a little harder as he came, a muffled grunt slipping from his lips despite the way he bit down on his lower lip. The feeling of his warm, thick cum filling you up made you mewl, body relaxing into the wall. This was always the best part. When his thrusts became a little messy as he fucked his seed deep into your pussy.

You just wanted to be filled with him always.

“Good fucking girl.” He murmured, spreading your cheeks apart as he pulled himself free. You must had cum right along with him, too fucked dumb to even realize your own pleasure. His cock was coated, a sheen of slick outlining his veins.

“My stupid little kitty, didn’t even know you were creaming on my cock did you?”

You couldn’t respond, breath coming out short and shaky from your nose. How could you focus on your own high anyway when his cum took up every space in your brain?

One of Kuroo’s hands shuffled through his briefcase to find a pack of tissues. He was quick to wipe off his cock, tucking it back into his slacks with ease. He used the tissue to block your stretched hole, giving your hip an expectant squeeze.

“C’mon dumb little baby, put those panties back on. You can’t lose a single drop, or else you won’t be able to think straight.”

And he was right, functioning without him inside you seemed harder and harder these days.

You pulled your panties out of your mouth, and despite the material being heavy with drool and cum you still slid them up your legs. The crotch felt cold against your pussy, which was still so sensitive post-orgasm. It made goosebumps rise along your flesh.

Kuroo gave your pussy a couple of pats before pulling your skirt back down to its proper placement. Despite the tremble in your fingers you still managed to do up your blouse as well.

When he turned you back around he sighed at the fucked out look in your eyes, the way your lips still hung slightly open. He gave you a kiss, one much too intimate for the train.

But so was what you just did, moments before.

“You look a little dishevelled baby. You should probably freshen up before we head into the office, yea?”

#dubcon tw #exhibitionism tw #dumbification tw #hqhq server collab #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo smut #kuroo fanfic #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader

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pazumane · 3 years ago

Text

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi x CisFem!Reader

Summary: After a disastrous holiday gathering with your overbearing parents, Suga comforts you in the best way he knows how.

Genre/WC: Comfort, Smut, Established Relationship, 2.5k.

THIS WORK IS NSFW SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. Blog rules are clearly stated in my pinned post.

Warnings: Oral (f! receiving), dry humping, vanilla af, this is canon-compliant and takes place after the timeskip so TIMESKIP-SPOILERS.

Notes:

Written for Anilysium’s NSFW Winter Collab (Masterlist can be found here).

Do not mention me/my blog or repost my work on here or other platforms with lots of minors, such as TikTok or Wattpad.

Reblogs are very much appreciated! <3 Fic is under the cut. Hope you enjoy <3

The holiday season is hard. Holidays mean visiting your parents. Your overbearing, hypercritical parents. They’re not awful people by any stretch of the imagination, but their high expectations and passive-aggressive comments make you feel like you’re letting them down every time you come home. Every year, you try to tell yourself that that’s not true, but it’s hard not to feel that way, especially when you compare yourself with your sisters. They’re lovely people, but it’s next to impossible to compete with them in your mom and dad’s eyes.

Your older sister and her lawyer husband have three kids already and another on the way. Your younger sister managed to graduate college before you and is engaged to a doctor. And here you are, still doing entry-level work well into your twenties and never having dated anyone except your current boyfriend, Sugawara Koushi.

You haven’t been together for long, but Suga is everything you could possibly want in a partner – kind, sensitive, and patient, but never boring, always cracking jokes and making you laugh. The children he teaches love him, judging by the stacks of little handwritten notes and drawings he brings home every week, several of which are from students that have since aged out of his class. The moms love him too, as evidenced by the dirty looks some of them throw your way whenever you go to pick Suga up from work. You’re not quite sure how you landed someone as wonderful as him.

So by the time the holiday season rolls around and it’s time for your annual visit home, you’re confident that your parents will love him and optimistic that they’ll finally get off your back. Despite this, you make sure to give Suga a clear heads-up, and he readily accepts the challenge, assuring you of his excitement about meeting your family for the first time.

Things seemed to be going well at first. Your sisters loved his friendly disposition and his willingness to swap embarrassing stories about you. Your nieces and nephew gravitated towards him and listened in amazement as he regaled them with stories of his kouhai who had just played in the Olympics a few months prior.

But your parents… well, they’re another story.

As soon as dinner starts, the interrogation begins.

How long have the two of you really been together? What are your intentions with our daughter? She’s old enough that she should be settling down soon. Our eldest is married to a lawyer, but I suppose a school teacher is respectable enough. She should be with somebody who isn’t going to waste her time.

Suga handles their incessant questioning well, answering each of their questions thoughtfully and skillfully dodging their passive-aggressive barbs. However, you don’t handle it as well, and end up asking him to take you home before dessert is served, spending most of the ride back in tears.

When the two of you finally arrive back to your apartment, you flop down on your bed, feeling completely drained. Suga follows closely, laying down next to you and taking you into his arms. You weep quietly into his chest, tears soaking the fabric of his shirt. He holds you through it, rubbing your back and running his fingers through your hair until you start to settle down. Once your sobs finally begin to ease up, Suga coaxes you into a seated position and passes you the tissue box on your bedside table.

“I’m sorry,” you say, sniffling. “I don’t think I’ve ever cried in front of you like this before. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing at all, sweetheart,” he says. “I know how stressed you were about this.”

“It’s not just that,” you groan. “It’s just… you’re the first boyfriend I’ve brought home and they spent the whole night talking down to you and treating you like dirt. It’s not okay.”

“Sweetheart…”

“It’s one thing when they treat me like that, but it’s another when they do it to you, too,” you say tearfully. “It’s not right. I’m just… I’m just really sorry.”

“Hey,” Suga says firmly, laying back on the bed and gesturing towards himself. “Come here.”

You lay back down next to him, burrowing into his chest. You force yourself to focus on the sound of his heart beating, and you feel yourself beginning to relax into his soothing touch.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Suga whispers, gently combing his fingers through your hair and lightly scratching your scalp. “It’s not your fault.”

The two of you lay there in a peaceful silence, yet more words linger at the tip of your tongue. Suga seems to sense it too, because he guides your face up towards his and peppers it in light kisses.

“I feel like you’ve got more you want to say,” he says. “What’s on your mind?” “I just feel like I’m always disappointing them,” you admit quietly. “I just don’t want to disappoint you too.”

“You’ve never disappointed me, sweetheart,” he says.

“I know, I just… I really like you, Kou. I don’t want some stupid holiday gathering with my parents to be the thing that scares you off.”

“Hey,” he whispers, gently wiping your tear-stained cheeks with his thumb and softly pressing his lips to yours. “I know your parents can be difficult, but that won’t change anything for me. I’m with you for you, not for your parents. I’m really proud of you, and I’m proud of being with you. And sweetheart?

“Yeah?”

“I really like you too,” he murmurs, gently rolling you onto your back. Carefully climbing over you, Suga dips down and leaves a trail of wet kisses across the curve of your jaw until his lips just barely hover over your ear.

“Can I show you just how much I like you?” he asks.

You barely manage to give him a breathy yes before his lips are back on yours again. This kiss, while still soft, carries a greater intensity than the others he’s given you since you got back to your apartment. You gasp when he nibbles on your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His lips and tongue are insistent against yours, demanding to be kissed back, and it lights a fire in your core that threatens to rage out of control.

Suga runs his hands down your sides and when he reaches your hips, he pushes them under your shirt. His hands are warm as he trails them up your bare skin, his touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You mewl when his fingertips trace over the lace of your bra and you arch into him, desperate to feel more.

“Kou,” you whimper. “Please.”

“I know,” he says quietly, carefully pushing your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. He discards your clothes to the side, baring your body to the chill of your bedroom. Suga sits back on his heels and drinks in your exposed form.

The way he looks at you, with so much pure adoration and reverence in his gaze… it’s almost like he’s seeing you for the first time again, and it sends a nervous heat through your body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Suga whispers reassuringly, gently palming at your breasts. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

He quickly unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the side and moving back over you. He carefully sinks down over you, his weight slowly pressing into you. It’s comforting, feeling him on top of you, bare chest to bare chest. You could almost fall asleep like this, if it weren’t for the pair of lips gliding across your collarbone and down your chest. Suga suddenly latches his lips around your nipple, suckling gently on the sensitive flesh and pulling a quiet moan from your throat. Quiet little whimpers pass your lips as Suga laves his tongue around the stiffening peak, sucking harder as you mewl his name and palming your other breast.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, voice muffled from the way he’s buried between your tits.

“So good,” you murmur.

Suga pulls away, but not before sucking a mark in the valley of your breasts hard enough to leave a bruise that will almost certainly be there come morning-time. Moving his hands to your hips, he quickly unzips your jeans and tugs them down along with your damp panties. His hands are gentle and his touches are so light as he trails his hands down your body all the way down to your core. You keen when he ghosts the pad of his thumb on your clit, sending a pleasurable heat all the way through your body. He settles between your naked thighs, throwing them over his shoulders. His warm breath lightly fans over your wet cunt, making it pulse with needy anticipation.

“Don’t tease,” you say, your voice coming out as much breathier and more desperate than you would’ve liked.

“Can I eat you out?” Suga asks, nudging his nose on your clit and making you unconsciously push yourself even closer to his face.

“Please,” you plead, weaving your fingers into his silvery locks.

Suga chuckles, placing a light kiss on your thigh before descending on your warm, wet cunt. His mouth is careful and methodical as he laps away at your pussy. Long, languid strokes of his tongue send fire through your veins and slick down his chin.

You’re not sure which is flustering you more – the sounds of your boyfriend slurping away at your pussy, or the obscene sounds his forcing from you as he eats you out with unmatched intensity. You can’t help but whimper at the feeling of him practically devouring you, rolling your hips up to match his movements.

“Want you to come all over my tongue,” he groans as he flattens his tongue on your pussy, slowly running it up and down and sending a chill down your spine. “Wanna taste how good I make you feel.”

He looks up at you and swirls his tongue one, two, three times around your throbbing clit and making your pussy clench.

“Please,” you mewl, scrabbling for a pillow, the bedsheets, anything. Anything to ground yourself. “Fuck me with your tongue, please.”

“Anything for you, my sweetheart,” he says lowly, sucking your clit into his mouth one more time before dragging his tongue back down towards your weeping hole. Suga hums contentedly as he pushes it past your entrance, thrusting it in and out until your thighs are shaking around his head.

“Your fingers, Koushi, need your fingers now,” you moan, tightening your grip in his hair and grinding down on his face.

Suga eagerly obliges, moving his tongue up to your clit and quickly replacing it with one of his fingers. Your back arches almost painfully when he pumps it in and out of you, curling it over that spot inside of you that makes you scream his name every time.

“More, more, please, I need more,” you chant like a prayer.

Suga’s gaze is hazy with lust as it lands on you, but you can feel his gratified smirk as he slips a second finger inside of you, and then another. Part of you wants to cover your face in shame, but he’s clearly enjoying this just as much as you are, judging by the way he rolls his hips into the mattress, matching the pace with which his fingers thrust in and out of you.

You can feel yourself rapidly approaching your peak, waves of euphoria washing over your whole body as your boyfriend makes a complete mess of your pussy. When he closes his lips over your clit and sucks hard, the tight rope in your core holding you together snaps.

“Kou, I’m gonna… fuuuck…”

You cry out as your orgasm washes over you, sending surges of electric heat through your entire being. Your thighs quake around Suga’s head and a violent shudder runs through his whole body at the feeling. He groans loudly as you gush all over his face, lapping up your cum until you’re a quivering mess underneath his mouth.

“Koushi, ‘s too much,” you whimper, trying to wiggle away from him. “Can’t take anymore.”

Suga obliges, pulling away and laying several messy, open-mouthed kisses on the insides of your thighs before making his way back up to your mouth. You sigh as he kisses you and floods your mouth with the taste of your own arousal.

“Please, let me touch you,” you say breathlessly when he pulls away.

Suga simply shakes his head, instead leaning down and giving you another soft kiss.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I don’t need anything in return.”

Your eyes trail down his flushed body down to the telltale stain on the crotch of his jeans, and you find yourself blushing in spite of yourself. Suga maneuvers to your side, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaving a featherlight kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be right back sweetheart,” he whispers.

Suga ducks into the bathroom and by the time you gather the energy to sit up, he’s already back with a glass of water and wearing his sleep clothes. You take the glass from him, downing the entire glass in a matter of seconds. Suga’s gaze on you is tender as you flop back boneless on the bed.

“Feel any better?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” you reply tiredly, burrowing into him as soon as he lays down next to you. Suga gathers you in his arms, holding you as close as he comfortably can and gently caressing your back.

“You’re so good to me,” you murmur, pressing a row of soft kisses along his neck.

“You deserve somebody who is good to you,” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And if I’m ever giving you less than you deserve, please, please, be honest with me.”

“Kou…”

“I mean it,” he says insistently. “You are enough. I promise. It doesn’t matter what your parents say. I will keep saying it until you finally believe it yourself, and then I will say it even more.”

You can’t find it in yourself to respond, squeezing his hand instead and snuggling further into him. Tears prick at your eyes once more, threatening to spill over. Whatever you did to deserve a man so good and gentle is beyond you.

“Are you gonna be okay, sweetheart?” Suga asks, tenderly stroking your back.

“I think so,” you reply. “Sorry that I made us leave before dessert.”

“It’s okay, I still ate, didn’t I?” he says cheekily.

“Koushi!”

#sugawara x reader #suga x reader #sugawara koushi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #sugawara smut #sugawara x you #haikyuu smut #phoenix collabs #phoenix.fics #i wish that this could be more thematically relevant but my brain was FRIED when i wrote this skskskskks #and it's so vanilla lmfaooooo #in case you couldn't tell my main kink is being cuddled and told that i'm loved #anyway hope you enjoy lolololol #anilysium server collab

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tetsurouskuro · 4 years ago

Text

Reunion

pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, slight angst, breeding kink, unprotected sex, public sex, bokuto does the kabedon

word count: 5,006

a/n: this is my submission for the Haikyuu Headquarters second NSFW server collab! this time it’s the prompt “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” you can find the masterlist HERE by the amazing @vixen-scribbles who is my queen so go give her a follow! 💖

thank you @deathcab4daddy & @gallickingun for beta reading, ily guys so much (go give them a follow if you aren’t already)! 💖

now enjoy; feedback is always appreciated! <3

tag list: @miamiya (message me if you want to be included)

Synopsis: Three years has passed since you got your heart broken by your one true love Bokuto Koutarou. A high school reunion is about to take place at Fukurodani Academy. What will happen when you finally meet your ex boyfriend?

MASTERLIST!

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Your eyes scanned the invitation card from your high school. Reading every word that’s written. A high school reunion. The thought alone makes you think of him. Wondering how he’s doing. He may be your ex and the boy who broke your heart, but he was your first and still to this day, your only love, and you knew why he did it. He had his reasons.

He had talked you through it before you both graduated high school. He had told you that he wanted to focus on volleyball and that he was going to move away from Tokyo, and you were not the type to try and stop him. You wanted him to succeed. You also had to think about your future and what you wanted to achieve. Both of you went your separate ways, heartbroken that you could not be together anymore.

Bokuto succeeded in achieving his dream. He was playing in big arenas with huge crowds, on TV and he was a well-known volleyball player. The number 4 ace and captain from Fukurodani made it big, just like he promised you all those years ago.

You sighed and placed the card onto your fridge. There was still one week left until the reunion, and it wasn’t like Bokuto would show up. He was busy with volleyball, especially since a new season just started.

You sigh and turn around to grab the warm coffee cup and head to your couch. Once seated you turn on Netflix and start a random show. Grabbing your phone, you go to the search bar on Facebook and search for your ex-boyfriend. Once the two of you had broken up you had unfriended him immediately. You knew it was going to be hard to get over him, so to save you from having to see his posts and face on Facebook, you removed him.

He’s the first one that pops up. You share mutual friends, so it isn’t that weird. You go to pictures and see him with all sorts of different people, smiling and laughing. Sometimes even looking, upset?

Sighing you close the application, lock your phone, and toss it next to you on the couch. Closing your eyes, you throw your head back against the headrest, hoping and praying that Bokuto doesn’t show up to the reunion.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Wearing a black evening gown with a front slit, thin shoulder straps, and a pair of black heels you step into the big gymnasium where the rest of all the third years are gathered. A waitress walks up to you with a tray in hand, offering you a welcome drink, probably champagne. You take a glass and nod your thanks. Taking a sip, you sigh and take in your surroundings. People are standing in groups, chatting, and laughing. You see Yamato, Konoha, Haruki, Yukie, and Kaori in the middle. Konoha looks your way and you lock eyes. He smiles widely and waves you over. The rest of the gang turns around and sees you too, all of them start to yell at you to rush over.

You smile at them and head towards the squad.

“(y/n)! you’re here!” Yukie excitedly exclaims.

“Yes. Here I am,” you laugh. “How’s everyone? Haven’t seen you all in ages.”

You stand there talking with everyone. You chug the rest of your glass and turn around to grab another just as a round of applause is heard. You follow everyone’s gaze and see someone enter the gymnasium.

“Hey, hey, heeeeeey!” The voice echoes. A familiar voice.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You chant and shove your champagne glass to Yukie. “I need to use the loo.”

“Wait- (y/n)!” She yells after you, but you’re already headed for the door that leads you towards the nearest toilet.

Your heart is beating hard, you can feel your pulse rising. Adrenaline has kicked in and you feel nervous. You’re breathing heavily as you reach the door, turning around slightly to just peek at the man that has made you react this way.

He hasn’t spotted you yet. He’s surrounded by girls and boys, welcoming their former ace to the reunion. You stand there, the door slightly opened, your body halfway through the doorframe and take him in.

He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a matching black tee, black vans, and a light blue jean jacket. His hair is spiked the same way as usual and his golden eyes are filled with happiness. He laughs loudly and scans the room like he’s looking for someone and then his orbs land on you. The way he gazes at you makes your whole-body shiver and you feel like you can’t breathe. You stand still, watching him watch you for a second more until you turn your body back and go through the door and towards the ladies’ room.

Once inside you stand by the door, back against it, trying to control your breathing.

Okay (y/n), calm down! Act normal and don’t freak out!

After 5 minutes you turn around and push the door and walk out, walking back to the gymnasium. You pass a hallway when suddenly-

“(y/n)?”

“Jesus fucking christ!” You jump. “Don’t scare me like that.” You exclaim and turn around and are met with a pair of golden eyes.

“Ah sorry,” Bokuto speaks, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “I just wanted to see how you were feeling. You rushed out so fast.”

“I’m fine,” you sigh. “I just needed to use the toilet.”

“Oh. Okay.” There’s a long pause. Both of you are silent.

“Bokuto-kun!” A female voice yells out, interrupting the awkward silence and you turn around to see where the female is.

“I should head back. Yukie is probably waiting for me,” you lie. “It was nice seeing you Bokuto,” you smile at him and turn around to leave, but he grabs you by the forearm and pulls you towards him.

“Let’s take a walk around the school. I don’t wanna head back just yet.”

“Bokuto I-“

“Please (y/n)? I haven’t seen you in ages and I just wanna talk.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

“Great,” he smiles. “Let’s go then!” He grabbed your hand instead and intertwined his fingers with yours as he dragged you down the hallway and escaped the voice of the girl that was calling his name.

He suddenly stops outside of your old classroom and you both stand there, panting and trying to control each other’s breathing.

“Felt like a teenager doing that,” he laughs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just need a moment.” Still panting, you stay silent, and watch his tall frame. You stand up straight and clear your throat. Bokuto turns his body sideways and looks at you.

“Do you think it’s open?”

“I don’t know, but what do you wanna talk about Bokuto?” You speak up, wanting to get away from this situation. “We broke up. We’re exes, we’re not supposed to be like this.”

The silence returns, Bokuto’s eyes never leaving yours. You watch him, still out of breath you feel an aching pain in your chest. You fist both of your hands beside your body, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“I- shit,” you curse and let out a small laugh. “I need to leave.” You’re just about to turn around when Bokuto’s right arm slams itself on the wall to your left, stopping you in your tracks. You press your back to the wall and raise your head so you can meet his gaze. His tall frame towering over you.

“Don’t,” he sighs. “Don’t leave.” You don’t listen to his plea and try to leave again but this time he slams his left arm on the wall, caging you in.

“Bokuto. Let me go!”

“No!”

“I- What?”

“I came to this reunion mainly so I could see you,” he pauses before continuing. “I made up my mind that if you came, I would try to get you back, ‘cause I still fucking love you.” His golden eyes stare right into yours. You can see the determination in them.

“The way we broke things off, I should never have ended it that way. We shouldn’t have ended it that way. If I could go back and change it, I would’ve made you come with me. I was stupid to let you go.”

“Bokuto, I-“

“And stop calling me Bokuto!” he fumes. “You never called me that while we were dating and-“

“We’re not dating now!” You respond, interrupting him.

“I know!” He slams his right fist on the wall, making you jump. You have never seen Bokuto this upset before, not even when you broke up.

“I’m sorry. Shit (y/n) I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I-“

“It’s okay, Bo! It’s… fine,” you sigh out that last word. You let your head hang low, watching the ground, seeing how close his body is to you. You gulp, trying to contain your thoughts. You haven’t had any sexual contact with anyone for as long as you can remember, and seeing Bokuto now, here, this close makes you clench your thighs together. But you would not let your sexual desires over him take over. If he wanted you back, he had to tell you, and apologize.

“When I- We broke up I did it because I wanted to focus on volleyball.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Wait, let me finish.” You stay silent and let him continue.

“I wanted you to come with me, I wanted you with me so badly and I thought that I couldn’t let you come with me because I didn’t want you to stop chasing your dreams. Volleyball was my ambition, not yours.” He pauses for a second, collecting his thoughts and breathing before continuing.

“But I was wrong and dumb. I didn’t ask what you wanted, I just assumed and chose for you. I should’ve talked it out with you, asked you if you wanted to come with me and I didn’t. I fucked up,” he takes a deep breath before yet again continuing talking, expressing his emotions.

“Over these past few years, I haven’t been able to let you go. You were always on my mind. You had taken over my head so bad that I started seeing things. Seeing you on the streets, in the audience while I was playing. I never stopped thinking about you. I even stalked your Facebook multiple times and-”

“You stalked my Facebook?” You look up, watching him. Your heart beating fast against your ribcage.

“Yeah, not my proudest moment but I did. I needed to see your face, needed to see what you were doing, and if you were seeing someone. If you were as miserable as I was,” he sighs, his eyes watching yours. “Please (y/n) I am desperate. I want you back. Give me a second chance. I need you back in my life. If you just give me a small chance, I will prove it to you that I will be one of the best decisions you’ll ever make.”

Bokuto sighs out loudly, like he was in pain, and places a kiss on top of your head before sinking so his eyes are in front of yours. His face just mere inches from yours.

“Just give me one chance. Just one so I can have you back. I want you (y/n). I want to be able to call you mine again. I just need one-“

You decide to instead of using words you crash your lips against his. Cutting him off mid-sentence, wrapping your arms around his neck. It only takes Bokuto a few seconds to respond by kissing you back, his body pressing itself close to yours, his forearms bracing him on the wall.

You break off the kiss, bite your lip, and look into his golden shimmering eyes. “I never stopped loving you either.”

“Really? I expected you to have a boyfriend or fiancé by now.”

“No,” you groan. “I tried dating, but nobody compares to you.” He smiles widely at your words. Like a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’ll try to give you everything I can Bo, I’ll try-“

“Everything means nothing if I can’t have you (y/n)!” Blushing you look down, but Bokuto grabs your face in his hands and presses a kiss on your lips again. And again. You fist a handful of his shirt in your palms and press your body close to his, feeling his semi poking you and showing how much he wants you.

“You’re mine, (y/n). I love you so much,” he moans against your lips and then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth. His hands moving to grab your ass, pushing your pelvis against his. “I’m gonna prove it to you. I need you now. No time to waste.”

He pushes himself off you and turns around, trying to open your old classroom door and to his luck it does. His wide smile is back as he ushers you in.

“Wait- Bo! We can’t, not here.”

“Aww c’mon baby, it’ll be fun and besides,” he pauses, still looking at you as he undoes his belt. “I always wanted to fuck you in this classroom back in the day.”

His sentence makes you hurry inside, and you look around the now unfamiliar classroom. You hear Bokuto close and lock the door, the sound of his zipper being pulled down makes you turn around and face him. His pants are undone but still around his hips.

“Come here baby,” obeying, you take a few steps forward and stop once you’re in front of him. Both of his hands grab you by the waist and pull you forward, his lips instantly crashing to yours. His lips don’t stay on yours too long as they start to travel down the side of your neck towards your exposed collarbone. While his lips are giving your upper body some attention, his hands push your dress up, exposing your black lace thong to his fingertips.

Bokuto recognizes the material and stops his movements just so he can peek at your underwear. He grunts.

“Do you… like them?”

“I love them, baby. Jesus Christ.” Bokuto’s lips return to yours, his index and middle finger tracing the outline of your slit, making you squirm. He then removes them and ushers you to get up on one of the desks, and you do, but not before you remove your thong as sexy as you can, and throw it on the ground nearby.

“Babe, you’re gonna be the death of me!” he exclaims in a groan and hurries back to you. His body standing between your thighs. A slight breeze passes making you shudder, your nipples peek through your dress. Bokuto notices this and instantly with both of his hands, he pushes your dress down your arms and chest, making your breast spring free.

“Haven’t touched these girls in years,” he speaks while palming them both. “So beautiful.”

“Bo- I-“

“Shh love. It’s all about you now,” he removes his right hand just so he can tease your opening. Lubricating your core with your wetness before inserting a finger inside you, making you moan and throw your head back.

“Baby. Look at me,” he groans. You pull your head back and watch him. He removes his left hand and places it beside you, bracing all his weight on it while his other hand is occupied with your cunt. His finger going in and out of you, your walls clamping around him tightly. He snickers at how wet you feel around him and adds another finger, his middle and ring finger are fucking you slowly, too slow for your liking.

“Bokuto, please. I want more,” you moan.

“Easy now baby, I wanna savor this moment. Feeling your wet cunt around my fingers after such a long time,” he grunts. “God baby, you’re so wet.”

“I know, it’s all for you Bokuto.”

He licks his lips seductively and leans in closer to you, his breath hits your neck and makes your whole body shudder. His tongue comes out and licks you up from your collarbone to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you let out a sigh in pleasure.

“Do you like that, hmm?” He snickers. “Do you like my fingers inside you (y/n)?”

“Y-Yes Bo, I-I love them,” you moan. He lets out a slight “fuck” as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and thrusts his digits harder inside your wet and aching core. Wanting you to cum so badly. He arches his fingers inside you, making them hit your g-spot.

“Bo, please. I’m so close,” you groan. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You keep on whining to him, the once familiar feeling returning to the pit of your stomach. The pressure in your lower abdomen is getting higher and higher. Your legs start to shake and in just a couple of seconds, you’re releasing yourself around his fingers, your right-hand wraps itself around his wrist, nails digging into his soft skin as you moan out loudly from orgasming.

“Kou!” you scream, your walls clamping themselves around him, his fingers still going in and out of you, your legs shaking and your pelvis grinding itself on his hand. Eyes closed and mouth wide open and panting, trying to get your breathing under control.

After a minute, you open your eyes and are met by a smug smile as he removes his fingers and raises his hand to his lips, licking your juices off his fingers while still maintaining eye contact with you.

“I missed the taste of you baby,” he groans. His long fingers going inside that beautiful mouth of his. A big smile on his lips, his excitement palpable.

Once he has licked his fingers clean, he moves his hands to his pants and starts to pull them down his long legs along with his briefs, his cock springing free and colliding with his lower abdomen. Precum leaking from the tip.

Your eyes are glued on his hard member. It’s as beautiful as you remember, two veins going around his shaft, the pink head craving attention.

Your eyes never leave his crotch as his hand goes down and wraps itself around his hard cock, moving up and down slowly.

“You’re so eager, I love it baby, so sexy when you look at me like that,” his voice speaks, making you look up and meet his golden eyes. He takes a small step forward and with his hand that’s around his cock he traces your lips, mixing his precum with your wetness.

“Wait Kou- Condom!” You moan. The fact that you managed to even utter those words surprised you, but you didn’t know who he’s been with.

“I didn’t bring one,” he answers. “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you instead,” he groans and rams himself inside you. Your walls clenching around him tightly. Your heat making his cock twitch from excitement.

“Fuck Kou, you- you feel amazing.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. I can feel you pulsating around me.” He’s still for a moment, letting you get used to him. Had he gotten bigger since you last were with him? Or had it just been such a long time since you’ve had sex? It didn’t matter to you, you loved the feeling of him stretching your walls, making your tight cunt ache for him to move.

His hips backtrack only to force themself back to you, colliding and hitting your g-spot, making you throw your head back and grip the edge of the table hard. Your eyes are closed as you take in all the pleasure that he’s giving you. He repeats the same action, he grunts and you moan at the friction.

“Baby look at me,” he moans, his hand going to your cheek, holding it with his large palm. “I want you to look at me.”

You answer him by moaning, opening your (y/e/c) eyes looking at him, pleasure displayed on his handsome face as he starts to increase both his speed and the power of his thrusts. His hips colliding against yours with a strong force. The pleasure is displayed on your face, a lewd look as you’re loving the way he continues to ram himself inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum inside of that pretty cunt, baby. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he moans loudly, not caring if anyone hears him. He loved the excitement of knowing you could get busted having sex in your old classroom but he didn’t care. He had craved you for 3 long years and he wasn’t going to let this moment pass up.

“I want a future with you,” he continues. “I want to marry you. I want to get you pregnant.”

This makes your cunt clench for him. Your walls clamping themselves tightly around him. Marrying him? Pregnant?

"Oh, you'd like that baby? You want me to breed you, baby?" His thrust hits hard, his cock going deep into your core. His eyes travel down, watching his cock going and out of you. The wetness surrounding it like lube, making it easy for him to thrust in and out of you. His gaze is locked on where both of you connect, watching the way your cunt swallows him whole.

"Fuck baby. Beg for me to fill you, I know you love the feel of my cum inside you."

"Oh god Kou, please fill me with your cum. Breed me," you almost sing. Your voice is filled with all kinds of emotions, pleasure consuming you.

"You want me to breed you, baby? Fill you up with all my sperm," he moans, his hands holding your hips in place as his thrusts got deeper and deeper inside you. The tip of his cock grazing your g-spot viciously, the pressure in your abdomen getting stronger after each thrust. The thought of you swollen with his child made him even harder and closer to reaching his climax.

"Cum for me baby, I want you to cum for me. Cum with me. I'm so close," his thrusts get sloppier and you know he is near his release.

"Cum with me Koutarou. Let's do it together."

"Fuck (y/n)," his whole body stills as he ejaculates inside you. The warmth of his semen spurting in you, coating your walls and you follow him soon afterward. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you coat his cock with your release.

Your body is shaking from the intense orgasm you just had, your teeth biting into your lower lip and you feel him move, his still hard cock going in and out of you. Bokuto is making sure that his cum doesn’t come out, to make sure you’re bred and hoping you get pregnant from this.

"Mhm Kou," you moan. Your eyes glance up to his face. A big smile was plastered on his lips.

"That was so hot baby. I want more."

"I don't think I can stand," you giggle. His eyes are watching you, the smile on your face making his heart squeeze harder and being filled with all his love for you.

"What now?" Your tender voice asks.

"I'm waiting."

"... On what?"

"For you to calm down before I go for round two,” he smirks.

“W-Wait. Hold on. Round two?”

“You didn’t think I was already finished with you, baby? I’m just getting started.” With that being said, he flips you over. The action making his cock get pulled out from your heat.

You’re bent over and your front is pressed against the now warm desk. His hands start to caress your body, from the base of your neck to your naked ass. He gives your ass some attention before slapping each cheek, making you jump from the sudden action.

"I could just cum from the sight of you," he grunts. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, to make sure you're bred."

"Kou-tarou~," you moan as he enters you without warning, his cock rock hard and coated in both your juices and his semen. His hands holding your hips still as he thrusts deep inside you. Ramming his cock hard into your wet and tight core. His fingertips are digging hard into your flawless skin, leaving a mark but you don’t care. The only thing that’s going through your mind right now is the way his cock is pounding into your wet and swollen cunt.

"I won't stop until you're dripping with my cum, to be sure you're pregnant with my child," he almost screams. "Jesus fuck baby the way you clench around me is wonderful."

Your cunt clenches harder around his cock, the thought of being pregnant with his child makes you reach some kind of bliss that you never thought you could. The soft image pops up in your mind for a second, but it’s soon gone as one of his hands grabs your shoulder, his other following suit.

You can feel his semen leaking out as he continues to ram into you, and you know he notices it cause he lets out a snicker.

"My cum is seeping out of your pussy, but I'll fill you up again baby. I'll fill you up again and again."

"Kou- I'm gonna cum again," you moan. Your left hand holding the edge of the desk while your right one is in front of you, trying to grab something and it does as Bokuto's right hand comes forward and intertwines with yours, clamping around it. His body pressed against yours. Feeling his breath on your neck.

"Say it, baby, say what I want to hear."

"P-Put a baby inside me Koutarou please."

"Fuck yes," he moans vocally, biting down on your neck as he fills your cunt with his cum, the feel of his cum inside you again makes you clench around him and you reach your climax.

"Yeah, my cum makes you orgasm so fucking hard right baby?"

"Mhm," you answer, too worn out to even form your own words.

You press the side of your face on the desk and close your eyes. You're breathing heavily, so is Bokuto. His warm breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps form on all of your body.

"(y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm getting soft."

"Oh my god!" You giggle.

"Stop. You're making me fall out, stop it!" This makes you laugh out loud, this man who just minutes ago went all sex god on you is now filled with concern.

"Are you alright though? I wasn't too hard? Or rough? Or-"

"Baby, you were perfect," you answer in a giggle, interrupting his worrying self.

There's a comfortable silence surrounding you both, not a single word is uttered. The only sound is the sound of your breathing.

Suddenly you feel him move and pull himself out of you. Bokuto is fast with tucking himself inside his briefs and pulling his pants up, buckling his belt too. While doing this, you feel his cum seeping out from your hole.

"Hold on I'm on it," his voice speaks and you can hear him look for something to clean you up with. "This will do."

He's back fast and with some paper towels that are not very nice to your lady parts, and he cleans you up. The feeling of the paper made you wince, both from being sensitive and roughly fucked by your ex and now boyfriend, but also from the paper not being soft enough for your liking.

"I'm done, there," he softly speaks, his voice filled with tenderness but also worry, that it was hurting you. He wasn't. He was doing something so much more, and you loved him for that.

Getting up and getting dressed was the part where it got uncomfortable for you, his eyes stared at you as you dressed, fixing both your gown and hair, making it not look like you’ve just been fucked.

Your thoughts wander to what had just happened. Was this just some kind of roleplay or did he want to impregnate you? Not that it mattered for you, you couldn’t care less because you got what you had wanted for years. Him.

Once you’re done you turn around and see that Bokuto is already watching you, a big smile on his lips.

"What?"

"Nothing. You’re just so beautiful I can stare at you all night.”

"I-" you blush. “Thank you.”

"Now,” he says as he takes a small step forward and grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. His smile still there and you can see how his eyes are glowing.

“I love you,” he kisses you. “I love you so much (y/n). You’re the love of my life.”

"Again."

"Huh?" He turns his head to the side, not knowing what you mean.

"Say it again. I need to hear it again." With confidence, he grabs your face in his hands and holds you in place. His eyes watching yours and with the softest smile on his lips, he says:

"I love you.”

"I love you too." You sigh in happiness and he seals your lips with a passionate kiss. Both of you smiling through the kiss in pure bliss.

He pulls away and grabs your hand and starts to lead you out of the classroom and in the opposite direction of the party. Confusion consumes you as you speak.

"Kou, baby. The party is that way," you giggle and point down the other side of the hall.

"I know. We're not returning."

"We're not?" You ask in confusion.

"No."

"Why not?" He stops in his tracks and you collide with his rock hardback. He turns around, smirking.

"We have 3 years of lovemaking to do and I want you in my bed when doing that." He returns and walks you out and into the parking lot, leading to his car and a future of you and him together again. Nothing could stop you now.

#haikyuu!!#bokuto koutarou #haikyuu!! smut #hqhq server collab #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #sanda writes #my writing #smut

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nicka-nell · 3 years ago

Text

Just one stop

Pairing: Suna Rintarou x reader

Words: 4.348

Warning: public sex, train sex, dubcon, smut, NSFW, filming, photography, virginity loss, unprotected sex, lack of prep, degradation/humiliation, fingering/mastrubating, pet name (whore), a bit of voyeurism, mention of marking (hickeys), Minors DNI!

Summary: Suna is the man who twists the heads of all the girls. His charm doesn't even spare you. Often enough you have wet daydreams of the man with his beautiful green eyes. But what if your daydreams suddenly come true? When you least expect it?

This Fic is part of a HQHQ Server Collab with the topic public sex. You can find the other fics here. So check out all the other baeutiful writer/artist too ♥

Suna is probably the first name that would come to mind when you talk about the school favorite of all girls. You, too, were not spared by his charm. These piercing green eyes, that mocking, slightly arrogant but beautiful smile. You’ve been to every one of his games. Even in training, you watch him sometimes.

It was rare, but once or twice a month your girls’ volleyball team had training at the same time as the boys’ volleyball team. Most of the time you were busy watching Suna how he turned elegantly and skillfully, using his body as a kind of weapon to manipulate his opponents.

You’re even in a class together, only you’re sure that unlike you, he doesn’t know who you are and what your name is. Therefore, you have nothing more than your imagination, which shows you the pictures of his muscular body. How he rubs his body against yours, undressing you with his eyes alone.

“Suna…” It gently escapes your lips, and you suddenly open your eyes to see if someone heard you. But the people around you don't pay attention to you. Are busy themselves with their mobile phones or other people and wait like you for the next train.

Just then, the announcement rings, clarifies that everybody should step back from the train tracks, because the train will enter at any moment. All faces look forward. The phones disappear for a blink of an eye in their pockets or jacket, before everyone approaches the increasingly slow train and squeezes their bodies through the doors.

As always, you are in the last carriage, also because Suna and his team usually enter it whenever they use the train. Most people have headphones on or even sleep. Only rarely is there someone in this carriage who looks attentively through the area. Today, the people who occupied a few seats in the front part, looked disinterested like every other day. Lack of sleep is written on their faces due to all the hard work or school. They distract themself with music, sleep or the view from the dreary window.

With your thoughts at the handsome man Suna, you stroll to the back, into the empty and small standing area and stick at the large window decorated with some odd advertising. Sadly, there’s no sign of Suna. At least you think that for a moment, as you hear his casual laughter, his voice and turn around.

With a bored, yet somehow triumphant look, he shows Atsumu something on his mobile phone. Astonished, but also envious, he stares at the photo on the cell phone, knocking Suna on the shoulder like a good friend, before both, with a few other men of his team, enter the train.

What did he show Atsumu on his phone? Any volleyball articles? Or was it a pretty actress? Some nice food? You don’t want to think about the most obvious thing. Because it was probably one of his conquests. A pretty girl from school, probably even a few classes over you. But the thought of seeing your crush with another girl in your thoughts makes your heart groan painfully.

Your eyes are still discreetly directed at the men as Suna’s gaze sweeps from his phone and his piercing green eyes cross yours. His look is unreadable, but he nudges Atsumu’s shoulder, points with his chin in your direction, so that the fake blonde looks at your form now.

Embarrassed, you startle, turn around hastily and look out the window at the grey concrete wall, which is still visible since you are in a tunnel. He must have noticed you were watching him. Had he noticed all the other stuff you did, too? As if you would become invisible when you close your eyes, you squeeze them tight and hope that Suna doesn’t notice you anymore. But at the same time, you’re hoping he won’t take his eyes off you.

It’s crazy what he does to your body, even though you’re nothing more than air to him. With all the pretty girls at school, he’s got no reason to keep an eye on you. Yet you just can’t forget his eyes. His big hand that has wrapped his mobile phone with a lightness and can certainly grasp other things like that as well. Again you dive into your wet daydreams. How Suna buries his fingers in the soft fat of your breasts, playing on your nipple, pinching it, while sucking on your neck.

Instinctively you rub your thighs, keep thinking of him as an icy shiver flows down your spine.

“Think about me again, huh?”

Suna was aware of his role. He knew he is popular with girls. That most of them would spread their legs directly without him even having to do anything for it. It’s hardly reprehensible that he sometimes takes advantage of his role. Although the constant turmoil around him is quite exhausting for him, and he actually only wants his peace, sometimes there is a pretty girl so that he can’t resist.

The small niche behind the chemistry room has almost become a regular place for him and some plays with other girls. But at a certain point, he only focused his attention on one person. On you.

Just a few weeks ago, he heard someone in the locker room. He was sure it could only be one girl on the volleyball team. After all, you had your training that day before the men. Only half an hour separated you.

Actually, he would have ignored you, gone outside and played around on his phone until you got out, but your words were too appealing. Full of passion, one groan after another leaves your trembling lips, followed by a certain name. Suna’s.

His eyes form a slit, before he looks around to check the area while quietly approaching the locker room, studying the room to check where these wonderful sounds come from. His eyes soon grow larger when he sees you sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Your look is feverish, eyes shiny. A black fabric with an embroidered ten catches his eye. That’s his spare jersey.

Although he wonders how in the world you got it, he is impressed that you could just grab it without him noticing anything. Suna’s gaze does not last long with the fabric you now hold under your nose to absorb its smell. Yet, his eyes stray further down to your widespread legs, the skirt that no longer covers anything and the thin fabric of your panties shoved to the side. Your fingers spread your bare folds, exposing your entrance shimmering by the juice you had already produced. Your tiny finger slowly slides into your little cunt. It’s cute how you have to moan from such a small thing. He’s sure you’re still a virgin.

Oh god, he would like to replace your hands with his, but he would much rather hold you on the camera right now. Parallel to the words he forms in his thoughts, he grabs his mobile phone and presses the little play-button. It takes a while for the camera to focus, but after seconds he has you completely on his bright display.

He’s enjoying the view of you. How you satisfy yourself in front of his cell phone camera. No matter if you or another person catch him, he strokes his erect cock with his free hand. Won’t hold back his pleasure when you invited him for such a good show. Together with your rising moans, he grit his teeth to swallow his grunts as he cums and messes up his pants. Fortunately, he has to put on his sports pants right away, so the stain doesn’t really stand out.

With an arrogant grin he presses the stop button for the video, looks in the gallery, to make sure he really saved it and looks forward to hearing your moans later as often as he wants. Which is what he does. Suna listens to the sound of your voice as you yearn for him breathlessly. Almost every night he plays the few minutes he captured you on camera.

Each time he looks at your throbbing entrance. Your exhausted face after you had your orgasm before he also comes and re-watched the video with the words “you needy whore, let’s show me again how beautiful you can sing.”

Several weeks have passed since then. As almost every evening Suna enters the train with his friends and teammates, but can not resist showing Atsumu the video of you. After all, even the setter noticed that Suna hangs out with his teammates more often, than with some random girls. He doesn't disappear anymore for half an hour to fuck around with some beauties. At least not so often.

When Suna saw you on the train today, he didn’t miss your look that you were thinking about him. And he wants to let you know that he’s aware of it. That he knew your little dirty secret. The brown-haired man won’t let your gaze go. Just then he pokes at the blond man’s shoulder and whispers to him he should line up with the boys close to Suna. Atsumu looks at him irritated, doesn’t quite understand what he wants from him.

“Eh? And then? Are we playing duck, duck goose, just the other way around or what?”

“No, man, look up there. You recognize her?” With his chin he points to your shape, leads Atsumu to look forward as well, as the fake blonde just nods with a stupid smirk.

“I just want to question our little doll a bit. But for that, I need you to give me a little privacy.”

“Do you want to…” Atsumu does not need to pronounce his question. Suna’s look tells him he’s right about his guess. Yet, he does not stop his friend, on the contrary. He carries out his mission and gets the other men to gather around Suna as he sneaks up on you.

“Thinking about me again, huh?” He whispers near your ear from behind, brings his hand to the side of your hip as you startle and try to turn around. But his chest stops you.

“Don’t turn around. You know who I am. I was watching you the other day. You owe me another spare jersey.” His breath gives you goosebumps as he pushes your hair back from your shoulder and watches your arm hairs stand up with his fiery breath landing on your skin.

Your heart drops into your shoes. That’s how scared you are when you hear what he says. Did he see you masturbating in the locker room with his jersey? If so, you guess that’s it for you now. He’ll think you’re a perverted stalker. You have to come up with an excuse, but something hard on your lower back stops you.

“S-Suna, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stutter suddenly, know for a fact that he won’t believe your lie.

“You don’t? You want me to refresh your memories? You were in the locker room putting your fingers in your slutty cunt and moaning my name. I’m sure you imagined what it’s like to feel my dick in you, didn’t you?”

With his words, he rubs his now rock hard cock at your lower back, brings his hand which was earlier on your hip to the end of your skirt, as his long fingers slide under it and he frames your curves with his cold fingertips. You’re supposed to be panicking, should scream for help, but a part of you stops you.

Around you, you see his friends turning their backs to you. Their tall bodies block the view of other people here on the train. Did he plan this? It can’t be a coincidence. But why you? Why?

“What are you so quiet about? You were so talkative in the locker room. Or are you afraid my fat cock will rip your virgin pussy apart?” His deep voice glides straight to your core, tingles in your abdomen and eliciting a soft moan.

“I, ah… I don’t know what you mean. I would never, ever… ah do such a dirty lewd thing.” You lie again, but your words only make Suna laugh.

“Mhm sure. That’s why you’re not calling for help, right? That’s why you let me touch your round, hot ass. If I move my fingers further forward, between your legs, you certainly won’t be wet, right, doll?” His warm lips float over your skin, but they don’t touch you directly.

The heat rises through your face. Ashamed, you bite your lower lip. You know that Suna could say anything to you and you’d still long for him. Then a long time ago, without knowing it himself, he already put a spell on you. You can’t stop your juice from sticky moistening the fabric of your panties. Even in a place like this.

The train is moving, you see the concrete wall slowly disappearing, and the daylight fills the carriage. At the fast speed of the moving train, nobody can see you. But as soon as the train comes to a standstill, people could stare through the window right into your face.

You can’t let that happen, you think, but your body does the opposite of what your mind tries to tell you. Yet, your ass is pushing itself against Suna, like you want to invite him to all this dirty stuff.

“Theh…” he scoffs. His mocking laughter only makes you understand more that you have fallen for him. And this time you can’t help but moan as his fingers rub the damp fabric of the fine lace that covers your most feminine body part.

“Suna” You moan sweetly, lay your hand flat on your mouth and look around in a panic. Osamu looks back at you for a short time, but doesn’t twist his face as he turns around and pretends he didn’t hear or see anything.

“Look at that. You’re already so wet, I don’t have to prepare you, tsk. I could ram my dick right into you, push you against the windowpane, so people can see your face when I’m fucking you as we pull into the next stop.”

“That… hah. That’s not true.” Again you lie, make Suna smirk before he brings his free hand to the buttons of your blouse.

“Maybe we should show the people your plump breasts, too. I saw them in the locker room. You were such a needy whore, didn’t even manage to put on your shirt properly. Your sweet nipples were as hard as my cock now.”

With a hot breath, he skilfully opens the buttons of your blouse and pushes your sports bra so far down that the fresh air tickles your now bare breasts. The vibrating of his chuckle brings a flood over your body. His fingers pat your already hard nipples teasingly but also carefully.

“Oh god Suna…” You whimper softly. Despite the danger of being seen, you cannot hold back your excitement from being touched by the man you have a crush on.

As soon as his chilly fingers pinch your nipple, your mouth opens with a dull grunt. But they leave your skin as fast as they touch you. You open your eyes, want to turn around, to ask him why he stopped, but again he cuts off your words.

“Shush, I told you not to turn around, doll. You better be good and spread these legs.” Suna gives you a soft slap on the inner thigh with his hand still resting between your legs, letting your pulse rise.

You expected that he knew exactly how to use his words and body. Not only in volleyball, he manipulates his opponents. Still your body doesn’t act fast enough for him, as you can feel his shoe on your ankle, how the cold leather knocks against your skin and thus pushes your legs a bit apart. His fingers easily slide under your panties, pushing them to the side while his middle finger glides over your slit to your already dripping hole.

“Ah S-Suna stop. What if people see us? Besides, it won’t be long before the next st- ah!” You can’t finish your sentence, as your muscles press together his long finger glides into your entrance. You never got in that deep with your Fingers. You sigh in relief.

“Doesn’t seem like the people here are bothering you, with as wet as you are. Ten minutes, until we arrive the next stop. If your little pussy gets tense with my cock as much as it does with my finger now, we won’t even need five minutes. It’s up to you, my needy little whore.”

Your walls press even tighter against his finger, your legs bend slightly, almost as if you want to feel him better and deeper inside you. Muttering, Suna loosens his belt buckle with his other hand, opens the zipper and frees his dick covered with pre-cum.

As if he doesn’t want to waste time, he pushes his length between your warm thighs, takes his finger out of your entrance and starts rubbing his cock on your slit. Unlike his fingers, his length is warm, almost glowing, and makes you feel a desire that is incredibly strong.

“Ah! Suna!” You scream, bite your lower lip and look around once again if someone heard you, but no one seems to have noticed your sounds.

Your entire body is hot. The touch of his massive length between your folds is enough to make more of your juice flow right out of your hole. His tip brushes your clit every time he moves himself forward. Controlling your own body was never harder than now. It wants more, doesn’t want to be teased anymore. Without thinking, you rub your ass against the fabric of his pants, trying to look into his eyes from the window.

It doesn’t take long for your juice to cover his dick, which starts twitching more and more. Suna hit a virgin jackpot with you. A needy little virgin who has nothing in her head except to be fucked by Suna, whether you are in some closet, in his bed or in a train like this. You’re just perfect for him.

“What’s up, baby girl, you want me to put my dick in you?” He teases you with a mocking laugh, starts nibbling on your earlobe before licking your neck and starts sucking it. If he goes on like this, he’ll leave visible hickeys. But you don’t care right now. It’s just like in your dreams. Only that all this feels so real, is real.

“Come on, say what you want.”

You just want one thing, and that’s obvious. “Don’t tease me. Fuck me. I want your dick in me. Fill me up, Suna. Make me yours.” You leaned your head back onto his chest and peeked up through your lashes, pounting.

An absolute jackpot. You don’t see his smirk, just feel his lips separating from your neck while his warmth comes back to a different part of your body. With little preparation, he pushes his tip against your entrance, notices your eyes grow large and you suddenly give a loud sound.

“Ah, so big!” While he looks uninterestedly out of the window, as if the tip of his cock is not stuffing you, you look around in panic again. This time you see an elderly man looking in your direction. With a grumpy look, he shakes his head before turning back to his newspaper. Through Osamu and his brother, the man would have seen nothing but your head, yet you are embarrassed and put your hand in front of your mouth. And you’re glad you did so. Then Suna doesn’t wait any longer before he shoves the rest of his length between your tight walls. He now uses his hand to hold you at your hip, the other to push you forward against the window in front of you.

“Shit, didn’t you have a vibrator in you before? Fuck, you are tighter than I thought. God... feels good, doll.” He grunts, pushes his length out of you again, before ramming his entire dick inside of you, squeezes you tighter against the window and listens to your whining voice. Your pussy literally vibrates on his cock. It squeezes him like his finger minutes ago, wants him to come before the next stop.

Although his length slides easily into you, you sense that your womb will tear to pieces. Nevertheless, the pain is pleasant, exciting, because you can hardly keep your mouth still, everything in you feels like a huge emotional rollercoaster. You want to scream, cry, moan… but above all, you want more.

You want to feel him harder, deeper, want him to fuck you stupid. Instinctively you stand on your toes, pressing your butt against his pelvis, which only amuses him more.

“Such a needy whore.”

Even he feels how he can thrust deeper, how your breasts press harder against the window and your whine is only half swallowed by your hand. He notices a few of his teammates, especially Osamu, turn around, look at your bare ass as your skirt has slipped up through the thrusts of Suna. The other man stares at Suna’s cock covered by your liquid, how your ass and thighs wobble as he presses his pelvis against yours, and continues his stare following your body until his gaze settles right into your eyes. Gleaming with tingling tears that clump your long eyelashes.

“Suna hah, he’s watching…” You cry as you see the gray-haired one studying you. What you don’t realize is that Osamu is holding his cell phone camera on you both, secretly filming you to have some of the show later for himself.

“And? Let him. You won’t think of anything more than my cock fucking you numb. Your sloppy pussy will be so sore that you should worry about how to get out of the train today. The people here are the least of your problems now.” Hissing, he bites his teeth, thrusts aggressively and wraps the hand that was just lying on your hip around your thigh to pull it up.

Perfect for Suna, as he can hit a spot in you he knows will make you moan loudly. Perfect for Osamu, as he now also has your swollen pussy on camera fucked by Suna’s cock without mercy.

“Fuck, ah hah Suna!”

“What? Speak clearly, doll.”

“So good. Oh god, that’s so good! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!”

“So needy. Look what a whore you are. Drunk for my dick, yeah? Then let me show you how I can fuck you sore.” As his arm holds your leg higher up, his fingers press on your clit, rubbing against it and make your body tremble. Like on fire, you pinch your eyes closed, wanting to enjoy this feeling deeper while you try to suppress your moan. But the desire rises more and more inside you. You sense you are close, notice how you don’t care about everything around you, and your loud breathing changes more and more into a loud moan.

“You fuck me so well. I’m coming Sun- ahh!”

“Such a talkative little whore.” You really are the best snack he’s had in a long time. Grinning, he looks at your cunt, watches it pounding, as you tense your body for a few seconds.

“Haaah fuck!” You grunt before a gush of lust leaves your core and makes your warm body tremble. Your leg in his arms is shaking, just like the rest of your suddenly so tired form. You’re out of breath, can’t see everything around you, just think about Suna’s cock suddenly grows a few inches bigger. At least that’s how it feels. Everything in you throbs, hurts, pulls at the same time. Only unfinished words leave your mouth. Swallowed by your breath.

Suna’s length twitches in your inner. His eyebrows squeeze and he knows he will come any second. Actually, he wanted to enjoy all this for a while longer, but your pulsating walls are stopping him.

“Want me to stuff you with my cum?” His husky voice shovers your skin, shows you with his words in which position you actually are in.

“No, no. Pull it out!” It’s a pity, then your words only make him laugh. And before you can push away from him, you feel his pelvis pressing against your entrance, something warm filling your inner, searching its way to your womb as his tip hits the spongy spot inside of you.

“Too bad, squeeze it out, then. Just as it should be for such a little needy whore like you.”

Before he pulls his cock out of you, he looks at his friend Osamu, who is still filming your entrance with the camera. A sperm thread still connects you to his tip before it tears and sticks to his length. Both men look at your hole, at the mix of sperm that slowly runs down your leg and at your pulsating walls.

Your eyes are wide open when Suna finally places your leg down to the ground and puts his pants back on to close his belt in the end. You’re still shaking, but this time out of panic. The vision blurred by the tears that suddenly form in your eyes, as the train comes to a standstill and the first people point at you with their fingers. Then your breasts are still pressed against the windowpane.

Some young guys take their phones out, make pictures of you, but you don’t care. The only thing that keeps your thoughts busy is that Suna actually came inside you, even though you didn’t want to. You want to turn around, ask him why he did that, but his hand stops you again.

“I told you not to turn around.” He says, kisses your neck while straightening your bra before his mouth bites your earlobe in a teasing way.

“See you tomorrow, doll.”

#haikyuu smut #suna smut #suna x reader #hqhq server collab #haikyuu x reader #tw public sex #tw train sex #tw dubcon #tw degradation #tw humiliation #tw mastrubating #tw voyeurism #tw marking

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pluviophile-imagines · 4 years ago

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Falling For You

This is a SFW Autumn-themed server collab for @bokutokotaruwu‘s discord server! Come join us here if you’ve liked our fics (if the link is inactive, you can still join! Just send an ask or a DM to myself or Mia)

EVERYONE LOVES HOT CHOCOLATE by @kuroos-cult Bokuto decides it’s about time to take his fiance out on a small date

bokuto x reader |🍁| read here

GRANDKITTENS by @pluviophile-imagines When you come home one day to find another cat in your apartment, the last thing you expect is for her to end up pregnant. But she does, and now you're apparently in-laws with your annoyingly hot neighbor

kuroo x reader |🍁| read here

SWEATER THIEF by @smol-enby Oversized sweaters are always comfy to wear... especially when you've stolen them from your boyfriend because you can never remember to bring your own.

kenma x reader |🍁| read here

PUMPKIN SPICE by @seokiloquy Osamu, in desperate need of a barista as the fall season quickly approaches, hires the first one available. A sleep deprived college student who keeps insisting for pumpkin extract as the demand for seasonal brews rapidly increases.

osamu x reader |🍁| read here

CATCHING YOUR FALL by @settersandsmaus Suga has met the love of his life...well he's met them once. While out at a pumpkin patch, he watched them trip and fall, but luckily he was able to catch them just in time. Fast forward to a week later, he and his new found crush are to meet at the same patch, where he can hopefully call it a date.

sugawara x reader |🍁| read here

#haikyuu server collab #server collab #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #fall fluff #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #osamu x reader #sugawara x reader

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bakubabes-tatakae · 3 years ago

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Another event with the Konoha Simps has begun! The two-year anniversary of the server is coming up and we're doing another week-long event! And this year we're opening it up to all of you. Each day will have a different theme and will be released starting on 4/10/2022 @ 12am EST. Once the masterlist for each day is dropped feel free to claim characters!

Dates: June 30th-July 6th

Overall Rules:

The anniversary collab will be open for any fandom. We will be allowing you to choose whomever you would like, and we will sort everything by fandom on the masterlist for each separate day!

Each day of the week will have a different theme/AU for everyone to follow in their art/writing and you’re welcome to have creative control as long as you follow the theme/AU.

Feel free to share the post for the collab around wherever you’d like! All requests to join can be sent right to this blog! Just be sure to let me know what character you'd like and for which day.

We can have up to three repeats of the same character per fandom in this year's anniversary collab that way we can have more of a variety! We’re hoping this will help make choices for people a little easier.

OC characters are accepted for each day and theme, but keep in mind that there's an entire day dedicated to that as well!

Each day can have a different character and since this won’t be beginning until the 30th of June we’ll be spacing out the character choices so that everyone can have a chance at getting the character that they want. Below the cut will be the schedule for when we release the masterlist for the day so that people can begin making choices.

There is no word count for any of the writing pieces. They can be headcanons, drabbles, full-length pieces, whatever your heart desires!

This is open to both writing pieces and art pieces so if you know a friend that might be interested give them a shout!

If you'd like to be tagged in a reblog once the posts for each day have been added please send an ask or a DM to @/bakubabes-tatakae or comment on this post so that we can make sure that you can be notified to pick your characters.

Day 1: June 30th "Domesticity": Give us all the domestic stuff that you can think of with the character of your choice! (Released 4/10/2022)

Day 2: July 1st "Hurt/Comfort": The typical character gets hurt by something and is comforted by another character. (Released 4/11/2022)

Day 3: July 2nd "Friends/Enemies to Lovers": You can pick either option and do with it as you please! (Released 4/12/2022)

Day 4: July 3rd "Betrayal": The only thing that we ask for with these writing pieces is that we don’t have a happy ending with them. The betrayal needs to be lasting. (Released 4/13/2022)

Day 5: July 4th "OC Day/Free Day": If you don’t have an OC to write or draw a piece for then this is a free day! Feel free to do as you please with it! (Released 4/14/2022)

Day 6: July 5th "Kinks": You can write for one kink, multiple kinks, and DC is allowed here, just make sure it is tagged properly or those pieces will not be added to the taglist. (Released 4/15/2022)

Day 7: July 6th "Alternate Universe Day": Pick any alternate universe that you would like! The world is your oyster. (Released 4/16/2022)

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jayeray-hq · 3 years ago

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Deal With a Devil

Hey everyone! Welcome to my part of the new NSFW Anilysium Server Collab! The theme for it this time is Halloween! Please check out some of the other amazing writers and artists in the collab by following the link! I'm a little late this time sorry!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️😖😭

If you like my writing for Kuroo, check out my other stories in his character masterlist!

Summary: You get dragged into a demonic summoning ritual on Halloweeen and somehow end up in a Deal with a Devil.

10.9K+ Words

General Warnings: Swearing, NSFW 18+ minors dni!, Demon Summoning Ritual, mentions of past rape/non-con (but none in story), mentions of death/murder/selling your soul, relationship negotiations, mentions of demon babies

NSFW Warnings: Smut and a bit of fluff, monster fucking, demon!Kuroo, switch!reader and switch!Kuroo, slight somnophilia (Could maybe be classed dubcon but is actually enthusiastically consented to), brief/minor choking, degradation/praise, sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, overstimulation, strange dick, slight cock-warming, very mild blood play (vampire type stuff), breeding kink

“Why did I let you talk me into this again?” you asked your friend, keeping your voice low as you eyed your surroundings dubiously.

It was Halloween and still fairly early in the evening, the sun was just about to set, and both you and she were dressed to kill in costumes that made you feel utterly sexy. You’d been looking forward to a night out, to cutting loose and having fun, barhopping or maybe finding a nice club to dance the night away in. Unfortunately your friend had other plans.

She’d always been into the occult, absolutely one of those who believed in things like demons and ghosts without question. She was superstitious as hell, refusing to step on cracks in the sidewalk, zealously avoiding ladders, refusing to kill ladybugs, and practically barricading herself inside her room whenever Friday the 13th rolled around. The one time she’d accidentally broken a mirror she’d been near hysterical and had gone to get herself cleansed.

You weren’t nearly as wary as she was, and were far more skeptical of the supernatural, finding her a bit too needlessly dramatic over things you personally viewed as inconsequential and silly. Still she was a good friend outside of that, and it wasn’t hurting you or her to let her believe as she pleased so you let it go and simply indulged or ignored her little habits.

Which was how you somehow found yourself here, not scouting a nice bar or standing in line for a club, but in the middle of a forest clearing, your nice heels sinking into the dirt as you desperately tried not to roll an ankle.

“You said you were having a dry spell, right?” she sassed, though she kept the words quiet so as to not disturb the other women who were shuffling around the clearing, making preparations, drawing strange lines and symbols on the grass with a black tarry looking substance, “Well this is going to put an end to that!”

It was true you’d broken up with your boyfriend months ago, the two of you parting on amicable terms, the spark of your relationship having simply died out and while you’d had a few dates since, there hadn’t been any sort of chemistry with them, definitely nothing that made you want to bring them home with you even just for a one night stand. Thus you’d been making do with your good friend Mr. Rabbit but it was nowhere near as fulfilling as you knew a partner could be.

“And how is this supposed to do that exactly?” you asked her skeptically as you eyed the candles that were being placed around the circle, “Wouldn’t being at a club and finding a nice man to dance with be more productive?”

“Madame Carver says this ritual will increase your drives and fulfill your desires,” your friend told you excitedly, practically bouncing in place, “Apparently it will help with just about anything you want to do. I personally, am hoping it helps me with finishing my stupid Thesis at long last.”

You don’t get the chance to ask her just who this Madame Carver is as a woman approaches and passes both of you red candles before ushering you into a place around the circle they’ve created. You’re not sure how they’re arranging people, but you end up separated from your friend, standing between two strangers.

A quick glance around the circle shows that everyone present is female, and while some are clearly eager, some nervous, others, the ones you relate to most, look just as skeptical as you feel about this whole thing, which does make you feel better. Honestly, you feel more than a bit ridiculous, but for your friend’s sake you’ll stay and get whatever the hell this is over with so you can go out and actually enjoy yourself without her sulking about missing it. Personally you think heightened desires isn’t exactly what you’re looking for at the moment, you’re pent up enough as it is, but you doubt this silly thing is going to hurt anyone so you see no harm in going through with it.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you almost miss the entrance of a woman dressed all in red, the shade a bright crimson that reminds you of blood. She was a regal looking woman, not traditionally beautiful but striking nonetheless with dark riotous curls and strong features, bronze skin almost glowing in the little light left from the quickly setting sun.

As she stepped into the center of the circle you’d formed with the other women she took a glance around and you had to admire her dedication to her roll. Her eyes had been a shocking crimson color, one that matched her dress, and had what almost looked like a cat’s slut pupil. You wondered if after the ceremony or whatever she’d be offended if you asked where she got her colored contacts from, because they’d looked seriously impressive.

“Welcome, my sisters,” she greeted, her voice a warm, deep, mesmerizing contralto. Just listening to those three brief words you could see how she could con people into believing she was some kind of witch or mystic, she certainly sounded the part and you had no doubt that this was the Madam Carver your friend had mentioned.

“Before we begin our ceremony this Samhain night a final warning,” she told the group, spinning in a slow circle to make eye contact with everyone as if to impress the seriousness of her words, “While this ceremony is meant to ensure you’re granted your deepest of desires, never forget that for everything received there must be something given, a price paid in body, blood, or soul. Demons will always fulfill their end of the bargain, their very being demands it, however they are demons at the end of the day, they will never grant you something for nothing.”

Your friend had definitely not mentioned anything about paying any sort of price for this whacko ritual and if she’d been in your line of sight you would’ve been glaring at her. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for you she was somewhere off to your right and you couldn’t actually see her unless you stepped out of your place, something you weren’t quite willing to do just yet.

However, the minute someone asked you to cut yourself to donate blood, tried to sacrifice someone or started an orgy you were nope-ing the fuck out. Like hell were you going to participate in anything like that. The orgy might’ve been something you could be down for if there were men present, but you simply weren’t all that sexually attracted to women.

“If anyone wants to leave, now is the time to do so,” Madame Carver warned seriously, pulling you from your slightly panicked thoughts, “Once the pact is made there is no turning back.”

Several of the women around the circle shifted anxiously, but none of them actually made a move to go, the power of peer pressure and either fervent belief or blatant skepticism keeping everyone in place.

You tried to reassure yourself that your friend would never be involved in blood or human sacrifice of any kind, which was reassuring, though the reminder that she was apparently willing to deal with so called demons wasn’t exactly comforting. You didn’t particularly believe in them, but you knew she did, so either she was more desperate to finish her Thesis than you’d thought or she thought the ritual was harmless, either way it probably wouldn’t be too bad right?

“Very well, if everyone is ready, let’s begin,” Madame Carver announced solemnly after a few seconds when no one moved, “Don’t forget that during the ritual you must think of that which you desire most, hold it tightly in your mind lest you accidentally leave your contract open ended.”

With that final warning she stepped forward to the woman who was standing at what looked like some kind of nexus point in the circle, hand reaching out. You were sure how she hid the lighter but a small flame sprang forth and lit the candle the woman was holding in an impressive bit of sleight of hand. The woman lit the candle of the woman to her left, who did the same with the woman to her left, each woman continuing on as they passed the flame carefully around the circle.

You’d been a bit anxious about your turn afraid you’d embarrass yourself by dropping your candle or somehow setting something on fire, but you managed to accept the flame from the woman next to you, a pretty blonde with the brightest green eyes you’d ever seen, who also seemed to be wearing some kind of colored contact lenses that gave her a slit pupil, and passed the flame on to the woman next to you.

Once everyone was holding a lit candle Madam Carver went back to the center of the circle and began to chant. You had no idea what she was saying or what language it was, if it was any sort of language at all or just speaking tongues, but it sounded impressive at least. Skeptical though you were you couldn’t deny there was definitely something in the air, though you put that down to anticipation from the true believers among the women you couldn’t help but be a little drawn into it yourself.

As she chanted a strange sort of wind began to blow, a scent filling the clearing that was strangely alluring, spicy, and masculine, the kind of scent that would’ve caught your attention no matter the man wearing it, it was that tempting. The sound of faint whispers, interspersed with low grumbles, like the vibration of a man’s voice when you had your ear pressed to their chest swirled through the air around you, humming deep in your bones as Madame Carver continued to chant, her voice slowly but surely rising in volume, her body appearing to be under an almost physical strain as the scent grew stronger and the voices grew louder.

You didn’t even realized how utterly enraptured you were by it, drawn in by sight, smell and sound the faint wind almost like the caress of fingers against your skin. Something in the air made you feel hypnotized, almost hazy, everything feeling a bit not quite right, something flickering in and out of the corner of your vision as if daring you to turn your head to look, only it felt far too heavy to move.

It felt like there were eyes on you, looking, judging, inspecting, appraising your worthiness, and yet instead of feeling intimidated you instead felt oddly aroused your skin tingling with eager anticipation. A strange feeling, almost like hand caressed the back of your neck, not quite grasping it, but hovering close enough you could feel the heat of it on your skin.

The strange whispering had become more coherent almost forming words you could understand now as what felt like warm slow breaths puffed against your cheek, each one bringing a new wave of that dizzying scent that sent little sparks of arousal trembling down your limbs.

“Be mine, kitten,” a warm voice cooed in your ear, the sound sultry, low and tempting, the kind that had your thighs clamping together your panties dampening in want, a voice practically made for the bedroom, “Be mine, enter covenant with me, be mine.”

The voice kept whispering, coaxing, cajoling, as Madame Carver continued to chant, combined with the sweet scent, the warmth you could now feel traveling up your spine as if a strong body as bare millimeters from being plastered to your back, and that terrible, tempting voice that made all of you quake with need was too much. Even if you hadn’t been going through a dry spell you already knew your answer would’ve been the same.

“Yes,” you agreed, unsure whether you were saying the word aloud or just thinking it to yourself but hoping to convey acceptance, your want, your need, to whatever being was whispering away in your ear.

“Then, it’s a deal my pretty kitten,” the voice agreed with a pleased sounding chuckle, something that felt like lips pressed themselves to the space just behind your ear, sending a strange scorching heat through you, making you feel weak with desire.

Madame Carver’s voice was almost at a fever pitch, rising higher and higher before giving a final shout. It was like being dunked in a bucket of ice water, the word catching your attention, making your whole body stiffen, the warmth against your back disappearing so quickly it left you question whether it had ever been there at all, as suddenly every candle in the circle went out at the same time, leaving only the ones at the center of the circle surrounding Madame Carver still alight.

Goosebumps rippled across your skin as you tried to make head or tails of what had just happened. It felt as if you’d been deep below the surface of a lake or ocean and suddenly broke through taking a deep rasping breath that returned you to a dizzying sort of clarity as you tried desperately to catch your bearings.

“Congratulations,” Madame Carver’s voice was like a lifesaver an anchor that managed to help ground you back into reality. A distant part of you was surprised at how smooth it still sounded given she’d been chanting and shouting nearly nonstop for who knows how long, “Your deals are now set, and you are free to go about your evening as you will.”

“However,” she warned, “Don’t forget the deal you’ve struck, for they surely will not and to renege upon it would be disastrous. For your own sake be careful.”

You shivered slightly at her ominous words, not quite sure what to make of them. You’d gotten so caught up in that strange ritual, in the atmosphere, in everything that all your skepticism had disappeared. However, now that it had finished you found clarity returning, your logical mind slowly coming up with explanations for what had happened.

The voices? Cleverly hidden speakers, surround sound no doubt with a queued soundtrack. The scent? The candles obviously, if a woman wasn’t coming around to collect them you’d be tempted to take yours home, but in the end surrendered it graciously. The warmth at your back? The feeling of it all? Obviously your admittedly vivid imagination and your desperate need to get laid playing tricks on you.

“That was intense!” your friend told you as she practically bounded up to you, eyes a little wild and smile almost manic in its intensity.

“You could say that again,” you agreed wholeheartedly, gladly linking your arm with hers as the two of you made your way back to where you’d left your car, surrounded by the other women who all looked as swept away or dazed as you felt.

“I can’t wait to work on my Thesis, I’m going to be so inspired I’m sure of it,” your friend babbled eagerly as the two of you climbed in the car.

“I’m sure,” you assured her, indulgent, mostly because while you doubted the ritual actually worked the placebo effect wasn’t to be underestimated and even this was the most inspired you’d seen her to work on it in a long time.

The two of you both drove back into town as she babbled on, clearly energized and excited, high on the adrenaline of it all and ready to fulfill her goal. Personally you were more than ready to fulfill yours too, now more than ever you were determined to find someone tonight and finally get laid, especially since your libido was apparently causing you to hallucinate.

Except, unfortunately it didn’t seem to work out that way. Several men approached as you and your friend clubbed and bar hopped into the early hours of the morning, and while you’d had a good time dancing with a few, none of them really caught your interest, even if they were clearly more than interested in you.

The most action you’d gotten were a few sloppy kisses before deciding you weren’t into it and promptly bailing. Even stranger, all night you’d felt like there were eyes on you, as if someone was constantly watching. It shouldn’t have been so strange, you’d dressed to attract male eyes on purpose, you’d wanted people to look at you. However, there was something almost dangerous about his particular gaze, even though you couldn’t tell where it was coming from no matter how hard you looked.

It felt predatory in a way that sent shivers down your spine, though strangely not fearful ones. It almost felt like you were playing a game with someone, pleasurable and mutual and doubtless going to end in pleasure on both ends, especially since your gut insisted it was the same person every time.

Which should’ve been utterly ridiculous, especially as you’d kept very aware of your surroundings, not even touching the freely flowing alcohol since you were designated driver for the night. Not once did you see anyone following you when you migrated from bar to club to bar and back again, meeting up with mutual friends and just generally having a good time. It should’ve been impossible for someone to follow you all night long and yet…

In the end your friend had stayed with a group of mutual friends you knew and trusted and you went home feeling a combination of exhausted and wired, frustrated and yet strangely anticipatory as if something else was going to happen. That was completely and utterly ridiculous of course, as the only thing that could happen was finally getting out of your heels, washing your face, and stripping off your costume which stank of sweat and alcohol not surprising considering the night you’d had. You took a quick shower to wash the night off you, not bothering with more clothing than a pair of underwear before trundling over to your bed.

Unsure what exactly to do with yourself, feeling pent up and wired despite it being almost four in the morning you’d pulled out your laptop to watch some Netflix but only got ten minutes into the episode of the show you were watching before exhaustion hit like a freight train. You only just managed to put the laptop away before collapsing into your pillows.

You felt strange, oddly weightless, in a place between dreaming and waking. There was sensation, warm hands running slowly up and down your bare sides as warm lips traced a path down the center of your throat, your body arching into the sensation, pressing closer as a face nuzzled between your bare breasts.

There was a warm heavy weight between your legs pressing you into the mattress, and your hands came up automatically one hand tangling into thick silky hair and the other finding a strongly muscled back as a quiet moan left your lips.

To your displeasure the mouth lifted away from your body, and you slowly blinked your eyes open, a pout on your lips as you stared up at the shape hovering above you.

“Awake are you kitten?” his voice was a deep, rumbling purr, seductive and teasing sending shivers of arousal through you as you tried to focus your eyes even as your entire body felt heavy and languid.

The man above you was probably the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on and a distant part of you quietly congratulated your imagination and your subconscious for dreaming him up for you. His eyes were glowing golden with a vertically slit pupil that vaguely reminded you of the contacts Madame Carver had been wearing at the ritual.

His hair was thick and dark, with bangs that were swept to the side nearly covering one of his eyes and the rest of it stuck out at odd angles despite how soft it felt against your fingers. There was a devious looking smirk curling his lips that revealed canines that looked slightly too sharp, set beneath a thin bladed nose and high cheekbones.

However, what really drew your eyes were the two black horns growing from his scalp just behind his hair line, and the strange glittering patches of color on his skin that looked almost like scales, trailing over his cheekbones, down the sides of his face and down his neck. It was utterly inhuman, and curiously you untangled your fingers from his hair, tracing them down the side of his face towards his neck feeling the odd ridges beneath your fingers.

Despite the strangeness of it, you found yourself unbothered, as even with the strange looking adornments that clearly marked him as something not human he was still one of the most attractive men you’d ever laid eyes on. Looking at him you didn’t think you’d ever wanted anyone more in your life.

You figured your subconscious was still focused on Halloween and the strange ritual you’d agreed to participate in earlier, after all why else would he have the same voice as the one you’d heard before? Still you weren’t about to protest.

A content hum slipped past your lips as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and tugged him forward. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he came along willingly enough, his lips meeting your own in a kiss that left you utterly breathless. The hand that had lingered at his back traced up his spine, relishing the strange feel of scales beneath your palm as you tasted him.

He was a fantastic kisser, teasing your mouth open with kitten licks and sharp little nips, his clever tongue tangling with your own, the heat of it making you moan into his mouth, which had his lips curling up beneath yours in clear amusement and masculine satisfaction.

You shifted your hips slightly, thighs spreading wider to accommodate his weight between them aware of the needy ache in your core, and the wetness that pooled in your panties with every movement of his mouth against yours.

Tracing your hand further down his spine you were surprised to feel something strange beneath your fingers, jutting out from his tailbone. Distracted for a brief moment from his kiss you realized that he had a tail of all things, and as your fingers probed curiously around the base he let out a low, pleased groan into your mouth, his hips grinding into yours, letting you feel a very prominent bulge that felt like nothing you’d ever had between your legs before.

“Careful now kitten,” he urged, his voice practically a growl in your ear, “I’m going nice and easy on you now, since you’re being so nice and compliant, but if you tease me like that I might have to get rough.”

“Mm and what if I like that?” you teased, utterly breathless but still able to find your tongue.

He jolted, clearly a bit surprised as he pulled away so he could peer into your eyes, before a slow smirk spread across his face, clear delight in his glowing eyes as he crooned at you, “Oh kitten, you and I are going to have such fun together. I knew there was a reason I was so drawn to you.”

“You think so do you?” you challenged, something about him making you feel wild, daring and somehow utterly sexy, no doubt the sheer desire clear on his face, “Why don’t you show me then pretty boy?”

He let out a wild cackle of laughter, the sound at complete odds with his dangerous appearance, and sexy demeanor in a way that was surprisingly endearing for something you were almost sure was a demon, amusement and enthralled wonder on his face as he informed you, “I’m no boy, kitten and I’m going to spend the rest of the day proving it to you if you keep taunting me like that.”

“Do it,” you agreed, with the complete and utter confidence that only those who are fully aware they’re dreaming and therefore invincible could have, “Give me everything you’ve got demon.”

“Oh kitten, let’s pray you don’t regret that,” he cooed, eyes alight with triumph and blazing desire, before leaning down to recapture your lips with his.

If your previous kisses had been steamy if languid this was on a whole other level. It felt as if he was trying to consume you, every brush of his lips and flick of his tongue shooting sparks of desire down your spine where they pooled in your belly as he began to trace a warm wet path down the side of your neck with open mouthed kisses until he found a sweet spot at the junction of your shoulder that had you moaning, and arching into his steady hold, kept in place by the firm hand that was cupping your jaw and part of your throat.

You hissed at the sharp nip of his teeth at the tender skin, almost but not quite enough to break it, the little zing of pain heightening your pleasure as he laved and soothed the area with his tongue before slowly moving downwards.

One of his large hands found your bare breast, cupping and gently massaging the pliant flesh, rolling your pebbled nipple between skilled fingers, and gently tweaking the sensitive little bud in a way that had you writhing, little gasps and sighs leaving your mouth as he worked diligently to leave several marks on the sensitive skin of your upper chest and collarbones.

“Like that do you kitten?” he crooned at you, his words a dark promise against your skin, “Your body is so responsive to me, so sensitive.”

You gasped as his hot wet mouth closed around the other nipple, sucking lightly at it, and flicking it with his tongue. Your hips were desperately seeking friction, grinding up against him as your legs wrapped around his waist, hoping to bring him closer to your aching center.

He let out a rasping chuckle against your skin, but let you pull him close, and you were suddenly reminded that he wasn’t quite the same down there as normal human men. You couldn’t see him, not pinned and prone as you were, but you could certainly feel him, the alien ridges that reminded you of some of the more exotic dildos you’d seen that claimed to be ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ clear even through the fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you swore, in both surprise and pleasure and he slowly ground himself against you, letting you feel every ridge and bump against the soaked cloth and proving that he wasn’t just shaped differently he was also considerably gifted. You weren’t sure what exactly he was packing, but the thought of taking it inside you made you feel as if you were dripping, sheer want making you feel more than a bit dizzy.

“Like that do you kitten?” he purred at you, “Like the feel of demon cock?”

“Fuck I want you so bad,” you admitted grinding your hips into his again, wishing you’d been even lazier and not bothered with the panties after your shower either and just slept fully nude so you wouldn’t have to deal with the cloth barrier and could feel him against your slick folds.

“Mm, so damn responsive,” he purred approvingly, “Such a good girl for me kitten.”

“Nngh… feels so good,” you told him, something between a moan and a gasp leaving your lips as his warm hands swept downwards, finding your hips as he sank his teeth into the top of your right breast, no doubt leaving a bruise that would be livid my tomorrow.

You whined unhappily as he pulled away from you, moving so that he was sat back on his heels, and you might’ve verbally protested, if not for the utterly fantastic view his positioning afforded you.

His body was just as desirable as his face, with broad shoulders covered in those same shimmering red scales, that crawled over the sides of his well-muscled chest before following the V of his hips, everything below that line nothing but scales instead of skin even if you could see the strong muscle underneath them. A long thin tail was lashing about behind him, reminding you a bit of a cat about to pounce, covered in bright red scales that faded into a black forked tip, it’s movement caught your attention though not for long as your eyes were drawn downwards to what you’d really wanted to see.

His cock was jutting up proudly between his hips, a darker maroon at the base, but flushed bright red at the weeping tip. The mushroomed head was the same as any normal human males, but the shaft was composed of layered ridges with two sets of bumps running along the underside that reminded you of a Jacob’s ladder piercing and that you knew would rub deliciously inside of you.

You could practically feel your mouth watering, desire making you dizzy with want as he watched you, that same sinful smirk on his lips, masculine pride written all over his face as he teased, “Like what you see kitten?”

“Mm like a walking wet dream,” you affirmed, utterly shameless even as a distant part of you began to wonder if this wasn’t actually a dream after all.

He let out another surprised cackle of laughter, his whole face lighting up in a way that was almost boyish despite his clearly demonic appearance before assuring you, “Don’t worry kitten, I’m better than any dream could hope to be.”

He made good on his words a second later as he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, drawing them down your legs as you noted with some surprise that his nails were pitch black and surprisingly sharp looking, the backs of his veiny hands completely covered in scales, though the insides, fingertips and palms were human skin.

You’d always liked hands and his were surprisingly fascinating, an alien contrast against your own clearly human skin, and the feel of them as they caressed your thighs, nails dragging teasingly over the soft flesh sending a shiver of want down your spine.

A surprised yip left your mouth as he took hold of your hips and lifted, forcing your shoulders and head into the mattress as your back arched in surprise. It seemed utterly effortless as he hooked your knees over his broad shoulders, leaving his face planted squarely between the junction of your thighs, his hands digging into the flesh of your ass.

“You’re so wet for me already,” he cooed, staring shamelessly at the open flower between your legs as he breathed in, clearly taking in your scent, “Fuck, you’re already dripping wet kitten, and here I was thinking I might actually have to work to prep you to take me.”

You flushed a bit, but the blatant appreciation in his eyes and voice kept any embarrassment at bay as he leaned in to feast between your legs. His tongue was hot against your slick folds, the heat of it actually a bit shocking as he swiped it teasingly over your sensitive clit, making you jerk and whimper in his hold.

“That’s right kitten,” he encouraged, golden eyes never leaving yours as he laved his tongue against your folds, gathering up your wetness and adding his own slick saliva to the mess between your legs, the slurping sounds he made between words utterly obscene as he commanded, “Mewl for me.”

You were helpless to do anything but what he’d asked, his skilled mouth making an utter mess of you as he sucked and laved at your folds, swirling his tongue teasingly around your clit before thrusting it as deep as it could reach inside your hole, which you knew on instinct was much further than a normal human tongue should allow. His firm grip on your ass kept your locked in place even as you writhed unsure whether to press closer to him or pull away as he danced on the edge of perfect sensation and just over the edge of too much.

You were practically putty in his hands and that was before he laid the slick appendage that you weren’t even sure could be properly called a tongue across your clit and hissed, the sound making the thing vibrate against the sensitive swollen nub making you practically levitate off the bed, a mewling cry escaping your lips as you came harder than you’d done in your entire life.

He barely gave you any time to recover, just enough to shift your weight so he was holding the small of your back with one hand to free up the other, and bite off three of his nails in quick succession before slicking one up and plunging it into your still quivering core.

It was a testament to his inhuman strength that he managed to keep you from jerking away, the pebbled rasp from the scales on the back of his finger, combined with the unerring crook of his finger right into the soft spot at the front of your walls that had you seeing stars enough to make you arch and writhe.

It was too much at sensation too soon after such an intense orgasm, the pleasure bordering on painful as he snuck another finger in, you could barely comprehend what he was saying past your own mindless pleasure as he cooed praise about how wet and tight you were.

With the addition of a third finger, stretching you open wide came another orgasm, not quite as powerful as the first, but perhaps even more pleasurable bordering on painful as you practically sobbed at the feel of it.

Luckily it seemed the demon was willing to have some mercy, because all he did was watch as you came down from your high, thighs quivering next to his ears, though the site of him as he slowly licked his fingers clean of your juices, eyes never once leaving yours was enough to keep your desire and your attention at a high.

You’d never in your life felt this needy, and two orgasms that had been that good felt like they should’ve been more than enough, and yet you found yourself wanting more, a part of you firmly resolved that whatever this was, dream, vision, or reality you weren’t going to let it end until you got to feel him move inside you.

“You taste so sweet kitten,” your demon lover praised a wicked grin on his lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you and was savoring every single second of it, “And you look so good like this, spread and helpless for me, but we’re nowhere near done yet. You told me to give you everything I had after all, which means we’ve barely gotten started.”

“Give it to me,” you intended it to come out more like a command, but the breathless exhilaration in your voice made it sound more like a plea instead, “I want you.”

“So eager for demon cock, kitten,” he tutted, though from the way his eyes were burning into you, you knew he was loving every second, as he carefully lowered your still weak legs from his shoulders and gently tugging you so your hips were closer to his, palming his cock and dragging the blunt head through your soaked folds as he taunted, “This what you want pretty kitten? You want this cock inside you?”

“Fuck yes,” you breathed, desperate to know what he’d feel like as he moved inside you, “I want it. I want you.”

The hungry look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine, your own need flaring up with just that look as he began to ease himself inside you. Even with how soaked you were and how he’d prepped you beforehand it was still a stretch as he slid inside inch by slow inch.

You let out a shuddering gasp as he bottomed out inside you, the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix in a way that made you shudder at the strange sensation of pain/pleasure deep inside you.

“Fuck, look at you kitten, taking me so well,” he praised, his voice low and guttural as he eyed the place where you were joined with something almost like awe on his face, “So tight and wet for me, like your pussy was made to take demon cock.”

Your walls clenched automatically at the words, something about them sending a deep sense of pleasure through you and he let out a low almost pained groan in response, as he slowly shifted, giving one careful, shallow thrust that pulled a pleasured mewl from your lips.

“So fucking tight,” he gasped, as his hips slowly thrust in and out of you the ribbed sensation of his cock enough to make you dizzy with pleasure, the sensation of it almost too much especially with the feel of those Jacob’s Ladder bumps rubbing up against your walls. A part of you wondered what it might feel like if you were up on your hands and knees so those bumps could rub up against your g-spot but you were quickly distracted from it as he reached for you, one hand holding your hips in place and the other pressing into your belly below your belly button, his thumb dipping between your outer lips to flick teasingly across your clit.

“Pay attention, kitten,” he ordered, eyes locked on yours and his tail swishing behind him, “Or I’ll be forced to make you.”

A part of you wanted to challenge him on it, but you couldn’t muster up the energy, not when every stroke of his cock had you seeing stars, your hands twisting into the sheets in order to find something to ground yourself with.

“That’s right kitten,” he growled at you as his hips slowly began to pick up the pace, “Focus on me, and only on me, on my dick in your perfect little pussy, your sweet little pussy that I’m going to fill up and taint with demon seed. Better learn to love the sensation pretty kitten because I’m going to fuck you over and over and over until you overflow with my cum. I’m going to completely ruin you, turn you into a slut for this demon cock.”

You’d been right. His voice was utterly perfect for the bedroom, hypnotic, enticing and enough to make you spasm around him with every word, doing something to you that you didn’t completely understand but enjoyed every moment of.

Overwhelming pleasure was building in your gut, higher and higher with each thrust of his hips, and before you’d really had any time to really process it you were falling apart, your orgasm making your inner walls ripple and squeeze around his cock letting you feel every bump and ridge of it.

A choked moan left his lips as he continued to drive into you, pace frantic, clearly chasing his own end and prolonging your orgasm as each twitch of his hips made your walls flutter. His hands dug into your thighs holding you steady, not letting you move an inch that he didn’t allow his grip tight enough you were sure you were going to have nice hand shaped bruises.

You felt it deep inside you as he sheathed himself to the hilt, the blunt head of his cock right up against your cervix. Your whole body spasmed as you felt hot jets of cum right up against the entrance to your womb, the sensation wringing a final small but intense orgasm from your limp body as you watched him, his beautiful face twisted in ecstasy, a low deep, rumbling growl of a moan leaving his lips as he finished.

For several long seconds, neither of you moved the only sound in the room that of your harsh breathing, before his eyes slowly found yours. Feeling lazy and utterly sated you held out your hand toward him, limply gesturing for him to come forward.

The bemused expression on his face told you the gesture was entirely unexpected, but he came anyway, laying his weight on you in a way you felt inexplicably comforting, his elbows braced on either side of your head.

You hummed in utter contentment your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, the other stroking along his spine again in the same position you’d been in when you’d first woken in earlier. Your lips found his in an easy, lazy sensual kiss as you gently scratched your nails over his scalp.

He returned your kiss easily, lips turning upwards in clear pleasure as the two of you spent a pleasant couple minutes simply basking in the other’s presence. When you pulled back he carefully rolled the two of you to the side, the sensation sending a ripple of pleasure through you as you were still connected to him, his cock still hard and buried deep inside you.

Your hand found his face, utterly fascinated by the feel of his scales beneath your fingers. He let you touch him, an amused smile on his face that only dipped slightly when you reached into his hair to run along one of his horns, though judging from the way his cock twitched inside you and the lustful half-lidded look he was giving you, it was because the protrusions were sensitive rather than out of any sort of displeasure.

“So, I’m not dreaming am I,” you stated idly as you ran your hand over his scaled side, “That whole demon summoning ritual or whatever that I let my friend talk me into, it was real after all huh?”

“That’s right,” he agreed slowly, his face slowly settling into an oddly blank expression, “Did you think it wasn’t?”

“I’ve never been a big believer in the occult or the supernatural,” you confessed easily, “But it’s hard to argue with the truth when it’s right in front of your face, and even my most vivid dreams aren’t as real as you are.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow so that he was peering down at you, “You’re taking this awfully well for a human who didn’t believe, usually there’s a lot more screaming, or crying, or denial.”

“Mm, well it helps when the demon in your bed looks as tempting as you do, so what are you exactly, some kind of incubus?” you asked, still idly tracing your fingers over his scales, drawing unthinking patterns on his strange almost too warm skin.

“Something like that,” he agreed with a slight smirk.

“So what happens now?” you asked him curiously, “Madame Carver said something about payment?”

“That depends on what exactly it is you want kitten,” he teased, clearly recovered from whatever he was thinking earlier, “Normally with humans like you we have to ask for blood price because that’s what they’re willing to offer, but you paid in body just fine. We only take souls for really big requests though that’s fallen somewhat out of favor these days.”

“So that’s what she meant by body?” you asked incredulously, “Sex? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he agreed amused, “Though you’d be surprised how very few people want sex with a demon.”

“Why not?” you questioned utterly baffled, “That was the most orgasms I’ve had in a single session ever in my life, and was a hell of a lot better than the ritualistic sacrifice I thought she meant.”

The demon gave a surprised cackle of laughter, shooting you a slow prideful grin that was all masculine satisfaction as he told you, “While I wouldn’t necessarily say no to a sacrifice of some kind, sex will do just fine for whatever you’re asking for kitten, unless it’s something really big, like bringing someone back from the dead or making someone fall in love with you, or making you the richest woman in the world kind of thing. Then we might have to renegotiate a bit.”

“But I already got what I wanted,” you told him with a puzzled frown.

“You did?” he asked you, looking nonplussed, “What exactly were you thinking you were going to ask for?”

“Really good sex,” you told him bluntly, earning a snort of laughter from the demon.

“No, but really,” he urged, “You left your contract very open ended, you didn’t ask for anything, which means now that you’ve begun payment we need to negotiate.”

“I did?” you asked, puzzled, but then you thought back to Madame Carver’s words, how she’d told you to keep your desire at the forefront of your mind for the ritual, but you’d been too distracted by your skepticism at first and then your enthrallment with the sensual being now lying beside you to really think of what you’d originally wanted, or what your friend had brought you there to ask for.

“Huh,” you acknowledged aloud, “So how exactly do these negotiations work?”

“It’s pretty simple kitten,” he told you, clearly amused, “You name what you want, I name my price. You can attempt to change my mind, but let me assure you we demon’s don’t like to bargain and we always get the best end of the deal.”

“But I told you I already got what I wanted,” you informed him, tilting your head to the side and studying his face, turning an idea over in your head for a moment before nodding decisively and adding on, “But I wouldn’t say no to a regular booty call if you’re up for it.”

“You’re joking,” he countered skeptically, a slight frown on his face, “You, a human, want to have sex regularly with me, a demon?”

“Thought you were the one who said you were going to turn me into a slut for demon cock huh?” you teased, reaching out to tug lightly at the hair covering his eye and running your fingers through the soft strands, “Didn’t you hear me when I said you were the best I’ve ever had? I wasn’t kidding.”

“You can’t just take my payment and turn it into what you want, that’s not the way this works,” he informed you, looking surprisingly sulky for a creature who was purportedly from hell.

“But you’re what I want,” you told him puzzled, “You’re fascinating, and sexy and physically we have great chemistry so why not?”

“Because even though we demons always get the better end of the deal, even we’re not allowed to accept everything for nothing,” he informed you, studying you as if you were the strangest creature he’d ever met.

Maybe you were being too casual about this whole thing, but you’d always been the laidback roll with the punches type and frankly this deal with him sounded just about perfect to you. You’d get sex when you wanted it without having to spend all that time dating and trying to find some kind of connection, one that you already somewhat felt for this strange demon male, more than you’d felt with any human, including your ex despite only knowing him for a few hours at most. There was just something there, something you couldn’t quite put your finger one, but he’d claimed earlier that he’d been drawn to you, and you couldn’t deny you were drawn to him to. You wanted to keep seeing him, you just needed to figure out how.

“Your name,” you decided at last, “I want to know your name, so I can stop calling you sexy demon man in my head.”

“You don’t know what you ask for,” he warned her seriously, his hand sliding up from where it had been resting on your hip to cup your face.

“I thought the names had power thing was a Fae myth not a demon one,” you told him thoughtfully.

“Humans have called us many strange things over the years,” he told you with a casual shrug as if he hadn’t accidentally tilted your whole world view sideways.

“And what other myths are true?” you asked, more thinking aloud rather than actually asking, “Can you lie? What about iron? Holy water? Salt?”

“We can’t lie,” he admitted, “We can imply, dance around and omit, but it’s impossible for a demon to lie or to break the boundaries of a contract once set. The rest is just wishful human thinking and religious myth, made up by the corrupt priests of the middle ages in order to steal more from the uneducated human masses.”

“And saying thank you to a demon?” you prompted, utterly fascinated.

“Is probably one of the greatest pranks demons have ever played on humankind, but don’t tell anyone it isn’t true,” he told you freely, a little too freely as you realized that while his words implied one thing it could potentially mean something else entirely.

“I will promise not to tell anyone, if you tell me flat out yes or no, is it true you can’t thank a demon without proclaiming a debt between the two of you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ho? What a clever little human you are,” he praised, something almost predatory in his gaze that sent pleasant tingles down your spine. You probably should’ve been afraid considering what he was, but all you really felt was intrigue and the slightest bit of arousal.

“Deal,” he agreed with a toothy smile, the word seeming to settle over your skin in a way that felt a bit like a net, sinking into your core in a way that you knew instinctively would cause you excruciating pain if you attempted to renege on your deal.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone that demons are pranking humans by spreading potentially false rumors about their abilities,” you promised immediately, and felt that strange net fade away almost instantaneously.

“No, it doesn’t create a debt,” he assured you, “And because I’m so kind I’ll even tell you that thanking a demon does nothing it wouldn’t do if you thanked a human.”

“Then since you’re so generous I also promise I won’t tell people that the Fae are pranking humans by spreading potentially false rumors about their abilities,” you countered, unable to help the slightly smug tilt to your lips, not that you’d actually been intending to exploit that particular loophole, though you found it amusing that he’d let you leave one nonetheless.”

“Oya, oya, my cunning little kitten,” he half scolded, half praised you, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he eyed you hungrily, “Careful now, keep being so intriguing and I might just try to trap you by my side for eternity.”

“A thought for later,” you told him absently, the words coming without you giving any real thought to them, “What do you mean when you say names have power?”

“If a demon gives their name to a human it will allow the human to call upon them at any time, to ask for almost anything within the demon’s power, and to command them to some extent,” he told you honestly, looking a bit nonplussed.

“Then, how about you give me your name, and I’ll promise you can refuse if I call, and say no to any command I give though I would like you to promise to at least consider any request I make,” you proposed idly.

“And what exactly do I get out of this deal of yours?” he asked, raising a brow at you in clear amusement, though you thought you could also detect some interest in his tone.

“Hmm, what happens if a human gives a demon their full name?” you asked curiously, well aware that it was something the stories cautioned against doing.

“Then, little kitten you would have no choice but to do anything I say,” he purred at you, a clear taunt in his voice, making it obvious he was sure you’d back away from it.

“Could be interesting,” you told him, your walls clenching, reminding you or the still hard cock buried between your thighs, judging by the shocked hiss and the sudden heat of his gaze he clearly knew exactly where your thoughts had gone, “Never outside when we’re having sex, and only if I give you the go ahead for it. No piss, scat or mutilation, nothing that would cause me permanent harm and a safe word if I need it.”

“That sounds entirely too restrictive,” he told you casually, though you could tell he was actually interested, very interested if the sudden agitation of his tail was any indication.

“I could be talked into blood if you’re good to me,” you teased lightly, reaching for his face and running your finger over his lower lip. He parted them for you obligingly and you deliberately swiped the pad hard over the too sharp canine, teasing your now bloody finger over his lips like a strange lipstick as he watched you with heavy lidded calculating eyes, “Something tells me Demons might’ve been called vampires here and there given how hard you bit me earlier, tell me demon do you want to suck my blood?”

You gasped slightly as his hand lashed out, snagging your wrist, and tugging it forward, drawing your bleeding finger to his mouth again as his tongue flicked out, cleaning the blood off his lips before sucking the tip of your finger into his mouth. The wet, hot, tight sensation and the slight pull of blood as it left the cut in your finger was intoxicating, and you could feel yourself starting to become wet again, juices oozing out around his cock, your core fluttering on the thick appendage as a dazed part of you wondered what it would feel like to have him do that as he fucked you, something you didn’t doubt would appeal to him given the way he was twitching inside you.

The sight of him as he sucked was utterly mesmerized, his eyes locked on yours as his mouth worked along the appendage, his tongue flicking over it, soothing the small cut, the look on his face one of pure ecstasy before he released your finger with an almost obscene pop though he didn’t release your hand, instead pressing his mouth to your open palm and then to your wrist, scraping those sharp teeth teasingly along the sensitive flesh there, his eyes searching your face for something.

You weren’t sure if he found it or not as he pulled away, though not before leaving one more, almost tender kiss on your fingertip, which was surprisingly fully healed, not even a scab to show you’d cut it before.

“You really are too tempting kitten,” he told you, voice rough with desire, “If I didn’t know how fully human you are I’d think you were a succubae.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you assured him with an amused smile, “Though now I’m curious, succubae exist? Earlier you said you were something like an incubus does that mean Merlin existed and really was a cambion?”

“Ah, succubae is just another name for female demon, though they tend to be more on the magical and ritualistic side of things than us male demons,” Kuroo told you with an amused quirk of his lips, “But of course they exist you met one not all that long ago after all a couple of them even.”

You blinked at him startled, your mind running through possibilities before your mouth dropped open as you remembered the colored contacts or what you’d thought were colored contacts and slight of hand at the ritual earlier, “That woman next to me! And Madame Carver?”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, lips curling in a smirk, seemingly uncaring that he’d managed to tilt your world sideways again as he continued, “And as for Merlin, a fine example of a demon, but no, Cambion’s don’t exist.”

“So you can’t breed with humans?” you probed, interested.

“Oh we can, it’s actually our fellow demons we can’t breed with, but all beings born from demon seed or womb are full demon, there are no halves,” he told you amused.

“Do I have something to worry about then?” you asked, trying not to panic, you might want children someday, but not at the moment and you’d have no idea what to do with a demon child anyway.

“Relax kitten,” he assured you, cupping the back of your neck in one of his large hands and running his thumb soothingly over your jaw, “Demon children aren’t conceived unless they’re negotiated for beforehand.”

If you hadn’t been paying close attention you might’ve missed the hint of wistfulness in his voice, but fortunately for you and perhaps unfortunately for him you couldn’t help but pay him the utmost attention at all times.

You took a moment to think it over, giving yourself time to roll it over in your mind, knowing once the words were out you couldn’t exactly unsay them once they were out in the ether. However, the more you thought about it, the more it appealed, you’d always had a bit of a breeding kink and you didn’t think he’d say no, though you’d have to learn more about what it would mean first it wasn’t something you were automatically opposed to.

“Does that mean that, that’s on the table?” you asked him, trying to keep your voice casual even as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. This more than anything would tell you how your relationship might pan out in the future, especially with how inexplicably fond you found yourself of the demon in your bed.

Are you…?” he trailed off eyebrows raised as he swallowed hard, clearly trying to find his voice before he demanded, “Are you seriously offering to let me breed you kitten, to put my baby inside you?”

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, his hips involuntarily giving slight thrusts that made you temporarily lose focus, the sensation heady, your libido thoroughly recovered after your earlier romp and apparently more than ready to go again. However, you forced yourself to focus back on the present and keep your head in the game. This negotiation was far more important than temporary satisfaction after all.

“There’s something viscerally appealing about letting you fuck your baby into me,” you admitted honestly, though you cautioned, “I’d need to learn more first, and I’d want to know you better, but so long as it’s not significantly more dangerous to my health than carrying a human baby I have no objections if you want to try in a year or two.”

“Fuck, kitten,” he moaned, his hips inadvertently giving a strong thrust and making you shudder and gasp in his hold, “Are you trying to drive me to the brink of insanity? What kind of male would I be if I said no to an offer like that?”

Does that mean you accept my terms?” you asked, taking him by surprise as you pushed at his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back. You rolled with him to keep him from slipping out of you, and found yourself straddling his hips your hands on his chest.

“Lay them out for me then, kitten,” he ordered seriously, pulling you out of your newfound bliss at the way he felt in this new position. You nodded, took a deep breath to center yourself and began to state your terms.

“You will give me your full name, and when I call you’ll answer unless you can’t or have no desire to see me, when I give commands you don’t have to obey if you don’t want to, but you will give all my requests thought and fair consideration,” you listed out carefully, making sure to keep your wording as firm as possible leaving as few loopholes as you could.

“In return I’ll give you my full name, with the caveat that you aren’t allowed to use it outside of times where I give you explicit, verbal permission to use it to command me. You will not share my full name with anyone or even speak it aloud outside my presence and I will not share yours or speak it unless I’m with you or calling for you,” you continued.

“I will also give you my blood and my body with the caveat that if I say stop you will, and only with permission to take it granted beforehand, and will attempt to be generous about it so long as my physical, emotional and mental health allow,” you listed off.

“My home is open to you at any time for any reason, so long as you behave with courtesy, paying for or replacing anything you use without my explicit permission within reason,” it wasn’t something you’d mentioned to him before, and you’d clearly caught him a bit off guard with it, judging by the raising of his eyebrows, but you did want him to feel welcome.

“In a year’s time on All Hallows Eve next year, so long as we are still on good terms and both agree I will negotiate having a child with you, so long as I am thoroughly educated in demon pregnancy beforehand, and it doesn’t pose extraordinary risk to my wellbeing,” you told him, trying hard not to think about it too much lest you become unfocused by your lust and let something slip.

“This contract can between us can be terminated or renegotiated at any time by my will or by yours,” you finished up with a firm nod, “Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal, my precious, clever, kitten,” he assured you, his eyes glittering with triumph and something you thought might actually be affection.

This time when you felt the weight of your deal it was far heavier. It was if the first net had been composed of thread and this one of tight steel cable. It might’ve been uncomfortable except unlike with the other deal, this one was accompanied by a feeling of warmth unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, zinging through you like electricity and making you feel oddly powerful and alive, a bit like you’d felt after the ritual Madame Carver had completed earlier that had brought the sexy demon laying beneath you to you in the first place.

Hoping to lessen some of the weight you turned to him, leaning down to press a warm kiss to his willing mouth before quietly giving him your full name. As you’d suspected a large amount of the weight lifted leaving behind only the humming buzz or warmth under your skin.

“My name Kuroo, Kuroo Tetsurou, kitten at your service,” he told you with a slow enticing smile, one that was just teasing enough that you wanted to see if you could lean down and kiss it away, make him lose some of that smug arrogance he seemed to wear like a cloak.

“Tetsurou,” you repeated, rolling it around in your mouth, tasting the word on your tongue as you purred it back at him, something he evidently enjoyed if the way his cock twitched inside you meant anything, “It’s nice to officially meet you, Tetsurou.”

You leaned down, one hand pressed over where a human heart would be and the other sliding into his hair and grasping one of his horns your thumb rubbing against the base for a moment before stroking it between your fingers like you would a cock, something he evidently enjoyed if the way he shuddered under you was any indication, his eyes dark with lust even as he stared a bit wide-eyed, clearly taken aback by your daring.

“Now tell me Tetsurou do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” you asked even as you continued to run your thumb teasingly over the base of his horn, “Because you see someone promised to make me a slut for his demon cock and that he’d prove to me just how much of a man he is, but he has yet to fulfill that particular promise.”

He let out a low moan of pleasure as his hands found your hips and you deliberately tightened your walls around him, milking his cock, still hard and clearly ready inside you. After all he was here and with the contract out of the way you were more than ready to start round two, you doubted it could be better than round one, but you were more than willing to try.

“Oh kitten,” he purred at you, voice low and dangerous even as delight swam in his unnatural glowing red eyes, “You and I are going to have such fun together.”

You let out a pleasured gasp as he used his firm grip to lift you up before slamming you back down on his cock as if you weighed nothing, like you were a doll to be made for his pleasure alone.

“I look forward to it,” you teased breathlessly, though you meant every word, after all unconventional though it may be and despite what the stories might say you didn’t think you’d ever regret making a deal with a devil, especially one as sinfully seductive as Kuroo Tetsurou.

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multifandhoem · 4 years ago

Text

server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

“Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

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