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content: DUBCON, THREATS OF SUICIDE, toxic relationship, possessive!steve, fem!reader, manipulation, coercion, unprotected sex, forced (?) breeding
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"Break up?" Steve said incredulously. "What do you mean 'break up'?" He runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head slightly, "no, you can't leave. We're not breaking up."
What has gotten into you? You've gone insane, surely. There was no way you'd get away from him. He felt anger and frustration at the way you stood near the door. Your hair was nicely done and your clothes were ironed. He could smell your sweet perfume and see your lucky socks poking out from your favorite shoes. You're trying to build confidence. You're still weak.
"I-" you paused, looking away from him, "I can't do this anymore, Steve."
"Why not? You promised. You remember that, don't you? You said we'd be together forever and what, now you're leaving me because of some stupid mistake?" The thought of you slipping through his fingers made his skin itch.
"It wasn't a mistake!" Your lips wobbled, "You're insane, Steve! You're making shit up, twisting reality. I can't do it anymore." You look dejected, tired.
Steve scoffed, "making shit up?"
Your piece of shit coworker has a crush on you, it's clear as day. He meddles in your relationship, planting false ideations into your head. He's a little too possessive, he tells you, that can't be healthy. Who is he to speak? He doesn't know you or Steve and he sure as hell doesn't know anything about your relationship.
"Steve," you plead, "he's my friend. He's just a friend looking out for me."
"So you agree with him? You're ridiculous. He got was coming to him." Steve's expressionless, staring at your look of disbelief. He can see the wheels in your head spinning, trying to figure him out.
"You've lost it," you breathe. "I'm sorry, Steve, but I really can't do this anymore." You turned to leave.
Slipping, slipping, slipping.
Your fingers only brushed the door handle when he spoke again, panic laced in his voice, "baby, please, I can't live without you."
You stopped and he could hear your breath hitch. "I'd rather die than live without you." It's a sensitive topic, he knows that but what else was he to do? You've left him with no other choice. You're silent for a few seconds, "what would I do without you?"
"Stevie, please don't say that," your voice is small, weak, and broken.
"I will if you leave me. You don't want me to hurt myself, do you?"
Your back moves as you sob, head falling forward, "no."
Steve feels a sense of satisfaction. Your hand dropped from the handle and moved to cover your face as you cried. He stood and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your shaking body, "s'okay, baby, I'm safe as long as you're with me. We can get through this."
You nod, finally meeting his eyes. Your eyes are lined with smudged makeup, red and glassy from crying. He leans in to kiss you, happy when you melt into his touch, eagerly kissing him back. Your tears slide into the cracks of your lips and the salty taste makes him sigh.
Steve picks you up, carries you to your shared bed, and gently climbs over you. Your skin is soft under his fingers as he feels up every crevice of your body, focusing on the places you liked most. How could he be a bad boyfriend if he had every part of you committed to memory? You're the only thing on his mind, day and night.
He sucks your thighs, leaving marks as he gets closer and closer to your little cunt. You whimper when he takes your clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and diving into your folds. He pulls away once he's satisfied, savoring the taste of your - his - pretty pussy.
His cock aligns with your clenching hole that aches to be filled. He sinks in with a shaky breath, slowly thrusting into your dripping heat. He'll never tire of the look of pleasure on your face as you squirm under him, tears still leaking from your eyes and mouth slightly ajar, whining and whimpering.
He can't believe he almost lost you. It could never happen again. It would never happen again. "I told you we'd be together forever," his voice is raspy as he reaches to cradle your face, passionately kissing your puckering lips. "I love you so much."
You'll be his forever once he fucks his cum into your womb, breeding you, tying you to him. A symbol of your love in the form of a growing entity. A piece of him tethered to you.
"M'gonna cum inside you," he groaned. The head of his cock kisses your cervix as he thrusts harder.
The look on your face shifted from pleasure to pain and he found himself just as entranced by the hurt so evident in your eyes where he could see the light flickering almost like you were succumbing to your fate. He knew you wouldn't resist with the threat of his life hanging above your head.
You may not want it now, but you will. Eventually, you'll see and feel what he does. You don't need anybody else.
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pretty boy. [chigiri hyoma x f!reader]
notes: a bit of cursings, unmentioned but post-canon aka pro-player!chigiri, pinning.
“You are prettier than me,” you bemoaned your fate to your pillow. From your side, Chigiri Hyoma didn’t even bother to sigh at your unimportant complains anymore.
Hidden from your eyes, Hyoma wondered if he should scold you or do something else. 10 years of friendship and 3 years of crushing—he still couldn’t really grasp the situation whenever you were like this. Two seconds and you were the sunshine of his life, then on a rare one second you kept screaming how his face was the reason no one on earth is pretty.
The fuck was he supposed to say to that?
He tried “Thanks.” When you were chill, you squealed and praised him even more and he became a mess of a goo as he tried to act cool. When you were like this, you cried for real thrice and he really didn’t need a fourth time.
He tried “Of course.” The normal response was to poke his cheek—which reddened in response much to your oblivious ass’ and his unfortunate ass’ charging. The this response would be a confusing session of skincare steps tutorial followed with more whining.
Other responses too produced similar result. Either his crush acted up like some chronic back pain or whatever spirit possessing you became the bane of Hyoma’s existence which is a big fuck not again no matter how much affection he hold for you.
(Also, good God, somehow the latter made him felt miserable because while overcoming a fatal, life-changing injury is possible for him of course making progression in his love life from the goddamn friendzone is impossible.)
(Every celebration night, his whole fucking team poked him to death with that fact. Bitch.)
As those terrible recollection went through his mind, Hyoma jokingly wondered if this time he should actually grew a spine and be a man who charged at everything recklessly.
Which he did, because as Chigiri Hyoma had realized—
He is an impatient dumbass. Might as well shut down his brain for a moment and follow his ego out of field for once.
“Hey,” Hyoma called your name.
“Hm?” you turned your head slightly from the—holy shit seriously—tear soaked pillowcase. Hyoma’s pillowcase. Hyoma sharpened his eyes at that realization, but as of the moment he was a man on a mission.
Gently, Hyoma brought his face closer to you. You, as usual, didn’t gave him even a blink of nervousness even as heat crept up to his cheeks.
(Your heart beat faster. You silently asked if Hyoma would ever realize what being close to him does to you. But, out of respect, out of affection, and out of many things—you said nothing.)
“You do realize you are pretty, right?” Hyoma asked, his eyes looking straight at yours.
(You forced a pout, trying to hide the overwhelming, bubbling feelings inside the cavity of your heart.)
“You are just saying that, pretty princess!” you protested, pushing your face closer to him. Out of habit, Hyoma realized, and yet it still did things to him. Fuck his highschooler-in-love ass.
Hyoma raised an eyebrow. Through sheer determination and lovesickness, he pressed his forehead to yours, “Am I now?”
“Yeah,” you said, sniffing. “You are handsome, too. Unfair. So unfair.”
Hyoma pursed his lips. He could end this with a kiss and risked it all. Or he could get to the point on confess. Or he could chicken out for another year.
(A part of you wanted to risk it all and kiss him. But, you were a chicken who hold a crush for 13 years in its beak—)
But, in the end, he might have loved you too much to risk it all.
(—like a professional and trained clown, you held the urge in.)
Hyoma drew his face away from yours, “You are pretty too, dumbass. If it’s between us, it’s fair.”
You—who definitely, yet again, didn’t realize the blazing blushes on his cheeks—blinked in confusion, “…really?”
You are a dumbfuck—Chigiri Hyoma noted affectionately. He will be in love for an eternity and he is just as dumb for thinking it wouldn’t be so bad.
Bitterly, Hyoma smiled at that.
(You wanted to blurt out to your long time friend that his smile was the dearest thing on earth.)
“At least,” Hyoma began. “You are the prettiest girl on earth for me.”
Once again, dumbly, you blinked. Hyoma saw speck of red on your cheeks—mirroring his—before you immediately hid behind his pillow again.
Then, like a hint of happy ending—whispering, almost like a dream—he heard you reply, “…yeah, you too.”
Under the sunset, with a voice that could only be heard by him who sat mere inches away from you, you continued.
“I love you, Hyoma.”
(Hyoma knew his teammates would never let him hear the end of it if they knew you confessed first.)
(But, hey, the chicken is fucking dead and he is certain he could win a bar fight if its for the sake of his and your honor.)
“…yeah, love you too.”
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