"VORFREUDE."
Summary: Sakusa thinks of you as his vorfreude, his intense anticipation from imagining future pleasures. He swears it's not mere delusions.
Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x F!Reader / slight Komori Motoya x Reader
Word count: 4.5k
Genre & Content Warnings: Slight angst. NSFW. Dark content. Yandere behavior. Porn with Plot. Incel/Bully!Sakusa. Virgin!Reader. Abuse. Non-con. Blackmail. Coercion. Misogyny. Slut-shaming. Slight manipulation and mindbreak. Fingering. Corruption. Defloration. Degradation. Vaginal penetration. Creampie.
Notes: Thank you soooo much to the lovely anon who commissioned this! Took a lot longer than it should've cause academics kept cutting in & joint with my anxiety. But yeah, thank you so much :') Thank you Faiwy for the final beta !! <3
If you're thinking about commissioning me, please refer to this post.
Youâre a constant, Sakusa thinks.
For as long as he can remember, youâve been following him and Komori like a lost puppyâwhenever they were, you were sure to be there. He canât think far back enough to remember when it started, but you were insignia of constancy, that was all Sakusa knew.
He listens intently while you talk to Komori from beside him, voice low and stumbling over your words every so oftenâhe knows you're going out of your way to avoid saying something he could use to pull you apart with, piece by piece like a frail little toy.
"How did the test from yesterday go?" Komori questions you, right as your trio made it to the cafeteria.
Your easy-going smile falters at the mention of it. Sakusa already knows the answer. He shares that class with you, after all. He had the front row seat to see your face flushed with humiliation and how rigid your body grew when the professor told you Sakusa would be tutoring you.
Reminding him that out of everything about you, the way you wore your heart on your sleeve is something that insistently rubbed him the wrong way.
First, because he starts thinking about how easy you make it for people to take advantage of you; it makes his blood boil. Then, he starts thinking about every reaction he could get out of you, like how you'd look from beneath him as he used your body the way you wanted him to.
Because you do, don't you? Why else would you go out of your way to adjust to his habits? To carry around your personal sanitizer and wipes, always making sure the space you were in with them was clean.
Nothing else could explain how you strung along with them like loose thread.
It tugs at the heart beneath his ribcageâbut whenever he sees you give all your attention to Komori, the betrayal sinks in, and he's reminded what kind of a woman you are.
A whore.
As you laughed nervously, taking a seat across from them, Sakusa wonders if you're having fun, wonders if for a moment you're riddled with guilt as you flirt with his cousin and him at the same time, in the same breath.
"N-no, it didn't turn out very well," you admit in between stutters, embarrassment creeping back in.
Komori frowns empathetically, "I could help you, you knowâ"
The sparkle in your eyes is quick to appear. God, you're so cunning. It makes Sakusa consider that maybe you failed the test on purpose, thinking this would happenâbut that would be giving you more credit than due. You're just a dumb little girl.
"I'm already tutoring them," Sakusa interrupts, and he's unsure whether to be delighted or angered at the way your face falls sullen.
"O-oh right, butâbut I'd love to get your help, Motoya-kunâ"
The scoff Sakusa lets out is loud, loud enough to make you wince. "You're dumb enough as it is, you don't need distractions," his words come slicing like knife. You sink in your seat.
Komori laughs awkwardly, giving you a smileâsheepish and apologeticâhe's so kind, he's always so kind.
Sometimes you wonder how they're actually cousins; until you're reminded that Sakusa hadn't always been this mean to you. He had always been cautious, but he wasn't ever mean like he was out to get you at every ragged edge.
Somehow, though, the closer you got to himâpast his defenses and indifference towards youâthe meaner he's gotten.
You were like a moth to a flame, not in the sense that you were attracted to its light, but more so like being punished with burn after burn the closer you got.
But your feelings for Komori begged you at every instance to swallow the humiliation down, at each of Sakusaâs degrading remarks.
You take out your packed bento, wiping at the table with wipes before placing it down, the cousins moving to do the same out of adapted habit, until you notice Komori digging in his bag, eyebrows furrowed like he's confused.
"Motoya-kun? What's wrong?"
He turns to you, scratching at the back of his head, "I think I forgot my sanitizer."
You're quick on your hands, offering him yours without missing a beat and Sakusa's reminded of why he even likes you at all.
You were persistent with being able to stick around them. He thought that was remarkable. That you'd never been freaked out by his habits, you respected his spaceâsomething he couldn't say with the people who pushed and disregarded his boundaries. That instead of forcing him to adjust to you, you went out of your way for him to be comfortable with you around.
And he's flattered, really. He doesn't have to wonder if he had a chance with you because surely, he does.
Since he's so niceânicer than a whore like you deserves, he'll let you know your feelings are reciprocated, then he'll fuck you, because surely, that's what you want⊠Right?
Then maybe, when you're finally his girlfriend, he can start training you to stop being such a flirty slut, that you belong only to him and that youâre nothing but his property.
But for now, he can settle with the warmth in his chest as he notices all the ways you try to get his attention.
Being with Sakusa is hard, even with Komori around, it was nerve wracking. Conversations with him weren't any easier, if anything, they were more dreadful.
When you ask Sakusa about tutoring you, you do it over lunch just so you avoid having to walk up to him alone. His answer is curt when he tells you to come over tomorrow, and that heâll pick you up from your place; because you can try all you want to outsmart him, but heâd always catch on.
Because Sakusa was smart, and you were just you.
After lunch, you feel nothing but the dread bubbling in the pit of your stomachâchurning and thrashingâbecause no matter how hard you try to push it down, the fact is that youâre actually scared of him.
Scared of the nitpicking he'll scrutinize you withâthe way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way you trembled in his presence alone. You start thinking of what to wear, because even something as little as that can put him offâalways commenting about how short your skirt is, how you're showing too much skin, how you're probably doing it on purpose.
But it's nothing you're not used to anymore.
So you tug on your fear, push it into a corner, and you tell yourself that Sakusa is mean, and condescending, and harsh, but he wouldnât hurt you. You pick yourself up from the corner of your mind, and you repeat in your head like a mantra. Sakusa wouldnât hurt you.
The ring of the bell breaks you out of your reverie. It reminds you that the day has almost ended, and that it felt like a blink faster than it shouldâve been. Still, you pull on your things, gathering them to leave the classroom slowly emptying out.
You make a small sound of surprise when your eyes dart over to the door, where Komori stood, an anxious smile on his lips. He looks like he's been waiting for you, making your heart hammer against your chest like it wants to leap out.
Face-flushed and giddy, you walk towards him.
âHey, Motoya-kun. Whatâs up?â You smile, all sweet and bright-eyed. From the pit of Komoriâs stomach, something flutters. You only ever look like this when your eyes are on him; he thinks he wants to keep it to himself.
He brings a hand up to his hair, lightly scratching at the back of his head with a nervous smile, and itâs awkward in an adorable sort of way. Heâs walking beside you along the corridor, itâs slow and the bit of silence between you is calm.
âAh, wellâŠâ He starts, gaze flickering to the floor and back to you indecisively, âI was wondering if I could ask you to the newly opened cafĂ© tomorrow. A-after you study with Sakusa-kun, of course,â He stutters a bit, offering you a boyish grin.
It so nearly pulls a squeak out of you, surprised in the most love struck sort of way. Your heart beats out of your chest unlike the way Sakusa makes you feel.
Your heart hammers out of fear of himâbut with Komori, it's nothing but pleasant and warm and intoxicating.
Your smile is instantaneous; it comforts Komori as your lips part.
"I'd love to," you answer him softly, though an octave higher.
Sakusa finds you both like this, shyly smiling at each other like lovesick doves. There's nothing pure about you, you shouldn't be smiling that way. Especially not at the face of his cousin.
"Oi," he calls out, even through the face mask, his annoyance seeps into your skin and makes you feel small.
The blood that had rushed to your cheeks dries you pale at the glare he gives you.
"Coach is looking for you, Komori," he follows, yet never taking his eyes off of you.
"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N!"
Sakusa takes another step closer to you the moment Komori's out of sight. Your grip on your bag tightening, instinctively taking a step backwards.
The action alone makes him practically sneer with you cowering in response.
"Disgusting," he mutters, brimming with venom. "There's nothing I hate more than girls who throw themselves at any guy they see."
Maybe it's the sheer malice in his voice, or the way your eyes catch how his hand moves upâbut you flinch, like expecting a hit to come across your cheek.
The pain never comes and when your eyelids flutter open, you're met with hard eyes the color of obsidian yet gleaming with a newfound resolve despite his furrowed eyebrows that suggested hitting you was far from the origin of his intentions.
Without a word, Sakusa walks away from you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.
You let your body slump against the wall. His eyes burn in the back of your head, almost like theyâre warning you.
Right before you head to bed, your phone chimes once, then twice and itâs bittersweet. One from Komori, telling you heâs excited to see you tomorrow, and one from Sakusaânot beating around the bush, it says nothing but â9 AM.â
Itâs firm and unyielding. Even as your head hits the pillow, forcing your eyes shut, sleep doesnât come easyânot even at the thought of seeing Komori on a date.
Itâs not the sunlight peeking in between your curtains that wake you, nor the sound of birds chirping outside your window. Instead, itâs the ache in your body acting like a bad omen. Nevertheless, you drag your body out of bed.
Your stomach churns but you get ready for the day.
You think the next hour couldnât come any quicker, because youâre fidgeting on the balls of your feet and somehow, thereâs goosebumps rising against your bare skin.
Your phone blinks back at you with a minute before nine oâclock but you already hear the knock on your door. Your breathing halts even as you move hurriedly to open itâand even when the air hits you as you find Sakusa on your doorstep.
You feel his eyes wander, from the very top of your head, down to your feet, and he mutters, âYou look nice today.â
The blush that creeps on your cheeks is only natural. Compliments in any form that came from Sakusa were hard to come byâonly because they were compliments in the most genuine, honest of ways.
Sakusa is mean, and if you were more honest with yourself, heâs a bully. But Sakusa, mean or not, is still Komoriâs cousin; so you give him a smile, palms going clammy.
âThank you, Sakusa-kunâŠâ You trail off, hesitating on your next words, âYou look nice today, too.â
And he does. The dark color of his clothes complimented his pale skin and dark, curly hair, and despite being covered by the mask, his pristine beauty seems to gleam through. Even seemingly unfazed, his gaze on you softens by a fraction.
As abrupt as it appeared, heâs already turning away, âHurry up,â he quips, but his voice is softer because you look nice today were words that confessed his truest feelingsâthe ones that reminded him heâs so in love with you and that youâre the cause of warmth in chest.
Even when you strut around trying to get Komori to like you, Sakusa doesnât attempt to deny the feelings he harbored, because you look nice today, too should mean something, shouldnât it?
You know youâre dressed up for your date with Komori, but Sakusa doesnât know that; so in that moment, he appreciates you. For once, there isn't one insult that lingers in his tongue or even in his head as he walks slowly.
Sakusa is nice today, you note as he keys the lock to his place. He had awkwardly placed his hand on the small of your back on the short walk it took from your place to his, guiding you along the sidewalk.
You've only been to his place once or twice, both times were with Komori, so you weren't familiar with the directions. The walk was silent, and in his silence, you found a reason to relaxâjust enough to make you think that this might go well.
Despite all awkwardness, Sakusa is forward. Seeing you sat on his couch so comfortably, the skirt of your dress riding up slightly, does nothing to hold back his urge to keep his hands on you.
It's a good thing he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself now, right? Since you like him so much, you'd let him fuck you now⊠Right?
Sakusa's movements are sly, that's why you don't question how he walks closer towards you, sitting so, so close to youâthat's why you choke on the lump in your throat when his hand shoots out to grab you by the wrist, pulls you in, then presses his lips on yours.
The second that passes is only because you couldn't wrap your head around Sakusaâlips pressed against yours and body so close.
But the next second, you're pushing him off roughly enough to stop him and he's looking at you confused.
"Sakusa-kun, I think you misunderstoodâI like, I like Motoya-kun, I didn't mean toâthis isâ" you're trampling over your words, looking at him with panicked eyes.
Sakusa mutes out the sound of your voice, all he can hear is the beating in his chest and the ache of itâthe sound of his heart dropping to his stomach. He shouldâve known.
All the softness in his eyes are gone. His hand, still wrapped around your wrist, gripping tighter and tighter; your heart skipping obnoxiously against your chest. Something about the way he's looking at you now petrifies you.
His silence feels deadlier than his destructive words, deadlier when you wince at his grip, whimpering, "Sakusa, you're hurting meâplease," and still, he doesn't let up.
Not when he's roughly tugging you from the couch, taking your arm with a bruising grip, then he's hauling you somewhere. You thrash, panicked pleas calling out to him and apologies he doesn't deserve but you offer him anyway. All your protests are rewarded when he halts, turning to you without a hint of remorse, pushing you to the floorâhis foot comes to your side, kicking you with a force that knocks the breath out of your lungs.
Bile is rising up your throat, coughing and arms shooting to your stomach to protect yourself. Scared feels too small of a word to describe the feeling that looms over you as he takes your arm again, dragging your curled up body.
Sakusa shoves you inside a room, even as you flail around and beg for help, his face remains impassive; whatever force youâre putting in the way you try to break free from his hold is futile. Of course heâs stronger. Of course, but you canât possibly accept this, can you?
You made Sakusa yearnâdisgustingly grapple on his feelings so needlessly, and nothing, he thinks, could be more unforgivable.
So he secures you on the bed, bound and within his claws, for you to take responsibility for the yearning you've planted inside of him.
"S-Sakusa, please," your begging sounds like a whimper. "I-I won't tell anyone! N-not even Motoya-kuâ!"
You hear ringing in your ears before feeling the sting across your cheek. From inside your mouth, you can taste metal.
"You won't tell anyone either way," he mutters apathetically, like the idea of you telling anyone isn't a threat, "No one would believe youâŠ"
He pauses, gaze on you hardening for a second, "You don't want Komori finding out you only got close to him because you wanted me, right?"
The sound of disbelief that escapes you is small, even the wide-eyed betrayal that flashes in your eyes does nothing to make him even pity you.
"YouâI, I didn'tâ"
At your stuttering, Sakusa clicks his tongue, "You're such a dumb girl you don't even know what you want."
"That's not true, Sakusaâ"
He glares down on you. The bed dips, bracketing your body between his knees, hovering over you, then leaning forward. His hands move slowly as if caressing you before grabbing your hair with a stinging tug.
The fear pooling your eyes only makes him even angrier.
"I hate that face," he grits out, "Always looking at me all scared, then you look at Komori like a shy innocent bitch, it pisses me off."
Pretty as you are, he lands another hit across your cheekâhard enough that you can feel a cut on your cheek trickling down with blood, the side of your ear going deaf. Youâre not sure anymore if it was a slap or a punchâall that you know is that it hurts. Your vision is blurred when you open your eyes, but even through them, the insanely expressionless eyes of Sakusa are clear.
It dawns on Sakusa that you wouldnât date him. Of course you wouldnât. Sluts like you go for guys like Komoriâso heâd just have to take you by force, make you date him by force, make you love him by force.
Besides, you look prettier forced, he observes. Your face tear-stained and bloody makes his cock throb in his pants. With your body weak underneath him, so helpless that it disgusts him and fuels him with desire all at once.
Something about your weakness, the innocence that spills from you contradicting his firm idea that youâre a dirty whore makes him livid. He pictures you painted with bruises and cuts, the image sending a shiver down his spine. Clenched fists pull back, only to land on your sides, on the same places he kicked you.
What makes you feel sick at the stomach more than the abuse he inflicts on you is the way Sakusaâs movements lack hesitation as his hands travel to your bare thighs.
"W-what are you doing?â
It's disgusting. Women like you are disgusting. You lead him on just so you can take advantage of his feelings like thisâthat even if he knew better, he'd still soften up for you.
It's you who lured him into this, he almost sneers at the thought. You were truly vile, and yet he loves you all the sameâwants you all to himself all the same.
"Omi?' You breathe, frightened. The nickname falls affectionately, though, putting all your hope into it, wishing it would tug on his heart enough for him to let you go.
âLetâs talk about this, Omi? Please?â You cry, searching for his eyesâthe ones trained on your thighs as he glides his hands against them, your dress bunched up to your hips revealing your baby pink panties. Your sobs only grow louder as he goes further up, going on as if heâs in a trance where he canât hear you groveling at him to stop.
Strong, calloused hands stop at the band of your panties, fingers hooking, and only then does he look back up at you. Dark eyes drown you as he tugs them down torturously slow, exposing you to him in your most vulnerable state.
The same second you attempt to force your legs shut, comes a biting pain on the inside of your thighs, instantly blooming his handprint at the force. Your mouth opens to wail at the pain, but itâs the same wail that Sakusa swallows as he brings his lips to yours with a kiss so treacherously passionate.
Sakusa pulls away quickly though, eyeing your bare cunt, he brings his fingers to your slit, experimentally rubbing up and down and your response is immediate, somehow. Your slick gathers on his fingers, body squirming from beneath him.
âK-Kiyoomi, it feels weirdâstop, please,â yet your hips buck into his fingers as he prods at your tight hole, âDonâtâNot thereâN-no one has touchedââ
He lifts an eyebrow, âYouâre a virgin?â His question sounding more of a comment, because the hesitant nod you give him is almost needless when you hiss at the intrusion of his digit pushing inside of you; your walls clamping down on it, body tensing, he brings a thumb to your clit, circling with enough pressure to make it feel good.
And itâs wrong. So wrong, but it feels good because youâre moaning against your will, whimpering at the curl of his finger and at the additional finger heâs slowly sinking into you.
The stretch is uncomfortable and foreign. Nothing is in Sakusaâs mind but at the thought of you absolutely untouched, absolutely all for him to ruin. Your body instinctively leaning to his, submitting to his ministrationsâfingers scissoring and pushing in and out of your pussy, the sound of your slick echoing in your ears as if to taunt you, but your legs are trembling, your gasps are broken and thereâs a pressure in your pelvis about to snap.
âYouâre so filthy,â he mutters, but he looks at you like youâre the farthest thing from filthy, and his comment is exactly what makes you break, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and cunt creaming around his fingers pathetically.
You feel so dirty, especially at the sound of your slick as he pulls his fingers out and shoves them inside your mouthâthe taste of you tainting your tongue. Shaking your head profusely, you beg him with your eyes, âNo moreâplease, I donât want this.â you weep, muffled.
âSuck,â he commands, but your defiance is clear before you even shake your head, so he pushes his fingers down further, choking you until you gag and find it hard to breathe.
âSuck,â he repeats, and you relent.
Watching you suck messily on his fingers, drool and tears disheveling you, dried blood sticking to your skin, he frees his twitching cock out of its constraints.
Though hazy, your eyes catch it, the thickness of his cockâhard and flushed at the tipâyour hands tugging at your restraints feebly making you panic and choke on his fingers, nearly biting down on them.
Heâs quick to pull them out, glaring down at you with dark eyes, jaw ticking as his hands curl into fists; knowing whatâs to come doesnât prepare you any more at the excruciating pain of his abuse, even more so at his length pressing against your wet foldsâcockhead nudging your puffy clit and making your cunt drool on him.
Both hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. The pain on your face numbs at the sensation of him prodding on your entrance, ripping you apart and increasing the painâyour head throbs as he stretches your cunt with his fat cock, barely giving you time to adjust as he starts to move slowly despite your tense walls barely allowing him.
He curses as he ruts into you, bathing in your cries and moans, violating and invading the entirety of you. The pleasure of feeling you and having you just like this seeps into his bones, turning his languid thrusts more desperate.
âYou make desperation look so pretty,â he groans, âYouâre making such a mess, you like being forced like this?â
He insults you, but youâre everything he always wanted and moreâthe taste of your skin as he sucks marks onto your neck as if you were his to own, the clenching and humiliating sound of your cunt squelching as he pounds into you and grunts against your skin. His cock throbs inside you and drags along your velvety walls deliciously; all you can think is that you hate this.
Pressure, pain, the drowning pleasure of Sakusa all over you and inside you donât allow you to retreat to the back of your head and forget. Not with the burning euphoria building up in your stomach or the moan that slips from your lips as Sakusa brings one of your legs down, bringing his hand to your breasts and thumb swiping around your sensitive nipples.
âO-Omi, please,â you sob, weak and submissiveâjust how you should be. Your nails dig into your palms, arms aching from your restraints. âI-Iâm gonnaâI think Iââ
âY-you really are a whore,â he spits, voice strained yet patronizing, still. âDo it, then. Cum on my cock.â
His hand moves in between your thighs, fingers pressing and rubbing circles on your clit as you cry out, tight walls clamping down on him and stuttering his already sloppy thrusts, your arousal running down his length and down to his heavy balls slapping against your ass.
Your moans come out as squeals of his name, your back arching and breath catching in your throat, vision going white as he continues to fuck into you.
His breathing is ragged, moving to bury his face into the crook of your neck in an odd show of affection, your swollen cunt pulsating around his cock as he suddenly stills, his low groan vibrating against your skin as he empties inside you.
You want to cryâbut nothing comes out, all you can feel is the bruises on your skin, Sakusaâs cock buried deep inside you and his cum leaking from your abused hole, the stickiness and the sweat.
Maybe Sakusaâs right. Maybe you are disgusting, because as he peels himself from you, thinking itâs all overâSakusa doesnât undo the ties keeping you on the bed.
He reaches towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone. The sound of the shutter going off once, twice, over and over with the camera directed at you pulls your soul out of you.
âOmiâ?â Your question remains a lump in your throat, but Sakusa is smart. He doesnât need to hear your question.
âYouâre my girlfriend nowâŠâ He mutters carelessly, âbut Iâm sure you donât want Komori to see how you like to be fucked, right?â
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