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sooniebby · 1 year

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ఌ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ the day life went to shit and got you a husband

Word count › 4.6k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › talk of trafficking (not actually shown)

Kinks › dub con, a/b/o, bitching

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Harada (Name) was pretty much a gem to others. An alpha so sweet that he rivaled omegas. He was beautiful, a bit feminine compared to other alphas but most didn’t mind.

His family didn’t care too much about him. Despite everyone else loving him, he was weak compared to his older brother. A stereotypical alpha that was cold and heartless. Only saw omegas as a breeding stock for their alpha pups.

Most now didn’t think that way. Omegas were equals now and had protection over themselves. Of course there was the weirdos, like (Name)’s brother and family, they were really an outlier.

The Harada family were well off to say the least. Their house was certainly large. Nothing to scoff over. But (Name) never knew just what his family did. They wouldn’t tell him. He first believed they were lawyers when he found a diploma for law school.

But they wouldn’t give him an answer. They even told him to no longer bother them about his silly questions. (Name) had stopped asking after that.

His older sister, a beta named Kokomo, was much nicer to him. Maybe the only family member that liked him. His big brother, Haru, hated him. He wasn’t even sure why.

When (Name) reached the age of 18, he was finally going off to college. But he was forced to chose a college that was close in his area so he’d stay at the house.

In hindsight, he should’ve known that it had to do something with the secrets his parents were hiding.

“(Name)! You paying attention?” Hana huffed, shaking her head. She was one of the few true friends he had recently made.

“Sorry.. a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” Kei, another friend, asked.

“My parents. They haven’t come home yet…”

“Oh,” Hana sighed. “Probably got stuck with some stuff at work. Nothing to worry about.”

Yeah, (Name) thought to himself. Maybe he was just freaking himself out. He continued the night with his friends, ending the study session with new confidence for his test tomorrow.

He walked home alone, like always. A hum on his lips as he lightly skipped home, excited to see Kokomo at home. If his parents and Haru still weren’t home, he’d get to enjoy himself with his favorite person in the whole world.

A grin spread on his lips as he picked up the pace. He was lucky enough that his house was only twenty minutes walk away from the university. Being an alpha had its perks in that he didn’t fear walking home alone.

Once he reached home, he noticed it was quiet. Way too quiet. (Name) felt a rush of panic in himself, wondering if anything went wrong. He rushed to Kokomo’s bedroom, hoping and praying that she’d just be asleep in bed.

And she was. (Name) sighed with relief, closing her bedroom door back once he confirmed she was just asleep. He shook his head, he was going crazy.

(Name) then just decided he needed a shower and to take a good nights rest for his big day tomorrow.

Once he made it to his room, he saw his window open. Weird. He shrugged it off and closed it, glancing around quickly to see if something was off.

But it was normal.

With nothing odd roaming about, he pulled off his clothes for his shower. (Name)’s body was smaller and slimmer than any other alpha he’s ever met. More feminine like—even with his facial features.

If it wasn’t for his scent, most would assume he was a taller omega. (Name) had always felt insecure about it but he still had many omegas and betas want to date him even with his features so he mainly ignored it.

“Wow, a show? Just for me, baby?”

(Name) shrieked, covering his body with his hands. A random man came out from the bathroom connected his room. Fuck, he forgot to check the bathroom. He panicked, wondering if he could just sprint to his door and run out.

But he couldn’t. The man was right near it, he could easily grab him. The window also wasn’t a good idea since he was on the second floor. Falling to the ground might break some bones.

He also couldn’t just leave Kokomo alone with this strange man.

“Who are you?!”

The man smiled. “Your mommy and daddy haven’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

He sighed, “your parents suck, huh?”

A scream was heard as (Name) felt himself freeze up. No. Why didn’t he think that this man would be alone? All this staring and trying to talk to this man gave whoever his parents were enough time to get to his sister.

(Name) gasped as the man was suddenly in front of him with a napkin in his hands. Before he could even try to dodge it, the napkin was pressed firmly onto his face, directly into his nose. Whatever was on the napkin, he quickly felt himself slipping away into a deep slumber.

All he could see was the smirk on the man’s lips before his eyes closed.

ꕥ

“(Name)!”

A groan left (Name)’s throat as he craned his neck around to get a look of what had happened. His eyes felt a little blurry, as he tried to take in what was happening. From his blurry vision, he could tell that he was still at home, just in the large living room.

He was on the floor, tied tightly around both arms and legs. A cry from his sister caused him to try and fight against the bonds but nothing happened. He wasn’t even sure if his thoughts was cooperating with his body right now.

“Harada? We have your son and daughter here… if you’re done with hiding, come and get them before we leave a nice blood splatter for ya!” A voice chuckled.

No… was his family in a gang? Just what did they do?

A grip on his hair caused him to finally see more clearly. It was the man from the bathroom looking at home, a calm and calculating look on his face.

“Hey, kid, we’ll have to use you and your sister as bait, alright? No hard feelings. We won’t hurt you.”

(Name) wasn’t sure if he believed them but he couldn’t argue. He felt so tired. The man placed his head back on the ground before walking away, leaving (Name) alone to ponder his situation.

There were more people with them. Maybe three others? Two alphas and two betas. The man was certainly an alpha and felt like a leader. (Name) couldn’t see the others but heard their whispering of something his parents and brother owed them.

Were they an omega trafficking ring? He wouldn’t put it past them to do such a thing. A grunt left him as he tried to move around to face the couch from his spot on the ground. He could hear Kokomo crying, pleading on letting her and him live.

(Name) wished he could hug her but all he could do was try and turn his body around.

“Your parents, Miss Harada, are in a bit of trouble. They decided to kidnap our boss’s sister for their little shit of a son. But they didn’t get far.” A random woman laughed, an alpha.

“Papa’s dead. So now we only have big bro and mama. Let’s see what happens to them hm?”

(Name) could heard Kokomo’s cries on the news about their father’s apparent death. He couldn’t find himself to care. They really tried to kidnap some random omega woman for Haru? Why couldn’t he just find someone?

“That’s not all,” a new voice chimed in. “Papa and mama have some crimes they must answer for. And big bro was about to join those little crimes.” A beta male said.

“What crimes..?” Kokomo asked.

“Trafficking ring.” The bathroom man said. “It was stopped a week ago. I’m sure that’s when your parents left for their little work trip.”

And it was. (Name) didn’t know how to feel but it was certainly anger building up. Was that really how they made their money? The luxury he lived in was built off the exploitation of innocent omegas?

“No! Mom and dad aren’t like that!” Kokomo yelled, but even (Name) could hear that she didn’t believe herself.

Did they really know their parents when they focused solely on Haru?

“The police…” (Name) muttered, earning eyes on him.

“We’ll send them after your mom and brother if they don’t come,” the woman said.

“Anyway, aren’t you going to go through with the plan?” A beta female said, startling (Name) when she grasped his hair and pulled him up. He grunted in pain, finally getting a clear look at Kokomo and the others.

Kokomo was clutching a pillow to her chest as she sat on the couch, staring at (Name) with a look of fear. He wished he could run to her and calm her down. But his body still felt weak.

Just what was that thing on the napkin?

“So, how do you wanna do this? They need to see it,” she said, pulling out a knife. Kokomo screamed but was quickly silenced by the male beta. She gripped the hand covering her mouth as wet tears streamed down her face.

The female beta brought the knife towards (Name)’s cheek, pressing it into his skin. He felt completely silent, wishing they wouldn’t go through with it.

But then Haru and his mother stormed into the room, looking completely calm despite the situation they were in. (Name) was not happy to see them but at least the bathroom man was distracted.

“Kimura!” His brother yelled, a snarl on his lips. His disgusting scent filled the living room of burnt marshmallows as (Name) wanted to gag. The other people in the room seemed to agree with his feeling as they also looked mildly disgusted.

The bathroom man, Kimura, smirked. “Haru-Chan! How’s it going? Thought you wouldn’t leave that new home of yours. You too, mama.”

(Name)’s mother scowled. “You already took my husband anyway from me! What more do you want?”

What…? Did she not see Kokomo and (Name) in custody of these gangsters?

Kimura hummed. “Well, I thought you’d care about your other kids but I guess I was wrong…”

His mother only laughed. “Care about a feminine alpha and a disgusting girl who became a beta? You were sadly mistaken.”

The alpha woman shook her head, “wow, no wonder you had no problem having that trafficking ring.”

“The things my family did to give us a roof over our head,” his mother exclaimed. Haru simply nodded in agreement.

“A roof over your head in favor of using those poor omegas?!” The beta woman gasped, pressing the knife deeper into his skin, causing a sliver of blood to appear on his cheek.

“Yes. I did what I could for my husband and son. Those two just happened because his condom failed.”

Oh. He knew she didn’t like him but to actually hear it…

It actually hurt. Kokomo was now sobbing, not believing her own mother would say such words about her like that. Haru’s scent that had previously dominated the room was beginning to disappear, being dominated by something else.

Kimura’s scent.

It was a scent of a rainy night in a forest. In any other time, (Name) would’ve enjoyed it. But now it was angry. He somehow felt the urge to show to Kimura that he would not disobey him. Was it because he was a much stronger alpha?

“I’m sure you do care about the reputation of your family. Now that’s basically gone, I guess I can just do what your son did to my sister.” Kimura muttered, walking over to (Name).

A look of panic washed over Haru and his mother. What they did his sister? Reputation gone? What the hell was he talking about.

Kimura grabbed the knife from the beta and pushed in deep, ignoring the cry from (Name) as he slashed downwards, effectively cutting his skin. Wet blood covered his left side of his face as Kimura soon did it to his right side, equal in length and area of his face.

(Name) felt himself whither in agony, the pain of being cut so deep as blood flowed down his face. He could hear Kokomo screaming as she was kept down on the couch by the alpha woman and the two betas.

Haru and his mother didn’t even try to help. They only stood there in fear.

(Name) glanced up as Kimura tugged at his hair. He didn’t think he could take anymore damage. His face would be permanently scarred now. Matching scars on both cheeks that traveled from his cheek bone to the middle of his cheeks.

“But scarring her wasn’t the only thing you did to her….” Kimura said, loud enough for Haru to hear. “You didn’t get to go through with fully going through with it but I will. Fair is unfair, yeah?”

With a sharp tug to pull his head back, Kimura kneeled down and bite down on (Name)’s scent gland. (Name)’s body rejected the claim, causing him to scream in pain. The physical contortion of his body rejecting the claim from an alpha almost made him completely pass out.

“(Name)!!! Please, don’t hurt him!!” Kokomo cried. “Haru!!! Mommy!! Do something!!”

Kimura leaned back in and bit down on his scent gland again, earning another scream from (Name) the rejection was less violent but he still felt himself shiver in pain.

His body was against it. It didn’t want it. He wasn’t made to handle such bites.

(Name) could only see Haru and his mother just stare in fear. They really weren’t going to do anything. He was going to be killed by the time Kimura was finished.

But (Name) wasn’t even sure what the man was doing.

Was he trying to intentionally hurt him…?

“Only need one more bite and then the process starts…” Kimura muttered, looking back at Haru as if he was waiting for him to protest. Do anything to save his little brother from the worst pain imaginable.

But he only stared.

Kimura shrugged before his sharp teeth bit down on his scent gland, making (Name)’s body actually take this time. His sharp canines went through the gland, effectively claiming him as if he was an omega.

A cry left (Name)’s lips as his body convulsed in jolts of pain. He felt himself faint soon near after, wet tears in his eyes as he knew something terrible happened to his body.

And there was no way to reverse it.

ꕥ

A heavy body on (Name) stirred him awake as he looked around. He wasn’t in the living room. And this certainly wasn’t his home. He glanced down at the body in his chest to realize it was a Shiba Inu. The dog barked happily, noticing (Name) was awake.

(Name) felt any panic in his heart, disappear as he cuddled the dog. He could oddly feel himself purr in glee at the feeling of the dog. But it was odd. He never purred before at the touch of a dog.

He’d seen other omegas do it but he never did.

(Name) reached over on the nightstand for anything but only found a tv remote. With nothing else, he turned on the tv, right to the news to see what date it was.

“Good morning! I’m Yoshida Nana! It’s October 18, at noon today. It’s only been two weeks since the capture of Harada Asa and Harada Haru for their omega trafficking ring. Others have now been caught and charged for participating.”

“The body of Harada Yuki has also been found. We once again thank the Kimura family for bringing the Harada’s to justice and saving all of the victims that were tragically captured. Please, If you find any word of other rings or people who may have participated, report to the police immediately.”

(Name) covered his mouth as he gently pushed the dog off of him and rushed to the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the toilet as he threw up. He forgot. He forgot about everything his parents and brother had done.

No way.

He couldn’t go back to normal after this. Omega traffickers?? People would think he had something to do with it. He was an alpha as well, he couldn’t just say he had no idea without proof.

The dog whined as it pressed it’s wet nose against his leg, earning a soft smile from (Name). He sighed softly before getting up and walking over to the sink, looking in the mirror to see what has become of him.

He slept for so long. Two weeks?

(Name) gasped. Two matching scars were on his face. They were light, looking to not be too recent but they were still there. He felt a bit better at the fact they’d be gone soon but how long did he have to wait?

Weeks? Years?

He glanced at over parts of his body and noticed he had gotten shorter. Much shorter. His 5’10 frame had gone down at most three inches? He had to be around 5’7 now? Maybe even 5’6. How did this happen?

His legs didn’t look as long as they were. And his body.

It was skinny before. Thin as a pole but now it was plump. His chest had actual fluff. His thighs weren’t just thin but actually had fat on it. His ass as well.. it wasn’t flat anymore. There was a curve.

Like…

Like an omega.

He had features of an omega….

No.

(Name) felt himself panic. Not when he was finally confident in his features and secondary gender. How can it just be taken away from him as if it was nothing?

Why couldn’t anything go right for him?!

Something inside of him was whining. Whining for someone to comfort him. An alpha? But he didn’t have one. (Name) stumbled over to his bed, the tv still playing the news as he collapsed on the bed.

The dog was hot on his tail, barking as if it wanted to get (Name) to calm down. (Name) felt weak. He wanted to sleep. But he couldn’t—not on a bed that didn’t feel like home.

He wanted Kokomo…

With his tired body, he lazily moved pillows and sheets around the bed as he built a makeshift nest. He reached down and pulled the dog onto the bed and laid down, finally able to sleep in something…. More homey.

It was possibly only a few minutes but an hour to (Name) when he felt the touch of someone on his head. He awoke quickly, glancing to see who it was. It was Kokomo. (Name) couldn’t help the tears form in his eyes as he got up, accidentally waking up the dog, and pulling her into a hug.

Kokomo gracefully returned it, whispering about how much she missed him. (Name) felt the sudden urge to scent her. He had never felt this way when he was an alpha. But he had never scent anyone so he wasn’t sure how.

“(Name), are you okay? I was so worried!”

“Mmh, I feel odd. But we need to get home.”

“There is no home… they took it…” Kokomo muttered.

“Why…?”

“We don’t own it. But we don’t have to worry about people thinking we were apart of it! Kimura-San proved us innocent!” Kokomo grinned.

“How?”

A blush appeared on her face. “Oh… uh… well, Kimura-San, the boss of this company, had been previous business partners with mom and dad… they knew something was odd when mom suddenly got enough money to pay off any debts.”

“So they spied of them?” (Name) asked.

“Kinda. They didn’t tell me much. Just that the police won’t need to investigate us… the public is a different story. But Kimura-San will let us stay here.”

“What’s in it for them?”

“Nothing. But it’s good for an omega to stay with his alpha.”

“Excuse me?”

Kokomo frowned. “It was probably traumatic for you. But he did bitch you. It was because his sister was almost bitched by our brother.”

(Name) felt himself frown. “So I was bitched for revenge?! I was forcibly changed and removed of any good status I had in this life because of fucking revenge?!”

He stood up from the bed as he paced around.

“Good status? (Name) you don’t mean that…”

(Name) growled. “Of course I fucking believe that. An omega!? A fucking omega!? I had a good life as an alpha! People loved me! And now I’m stuck as a fucking breeder!”

A slap rang out in the room as (Name) felt his eyes widen in shock. Kokomo had slapped him. He turned back to stare at her, wondering when she got the audacity to hit him.

“I know you are panicked! Turning into an omega isn’t something easy. But I won’t allow you to talk down about omegas or yourself. Taiki will take care of you!”

“Taiki?! Who the fuck is Taiki?!”

Kokomo sighed. “Just… allow him to help you. He’s been caring for you for awhile now.” She walked over to the door. (Name) watched as she left, leaving him alone in the unfamiliar room.

Was she… did she really turn against him?

(Name) felt tears stream down his face as he wondered if this was it. Was he screwed over forever? He glanced over at the dog on the bed as he tried to calm down.

He needed something. He wanted someone.

Despite the bright sun shining into his room, (Name) joined the dog on the bed and went right back to sleep, feeling defeated in his short life. He was sure if he wanted to wake up.

The feeling of something cool against his hot skin was healing towards him. A whisper was heard as he was manhandled into something cool. He could smell that Kimura man… was it because it was his house?

“Sana! Give him some space,” the voice said, pushing away a barking animal. (Name) stirred in the man’s arms, wanting to get a good look at who it was.

He glanced up and saw the bathroom man. Kimura. The man who turned him into this… shell of himself. But he couldn’t feel angry. He felt himself purr at the sight of him. If he had a tail, it would’ve been wagging.

“Baby, are you feeling okay? Being bitched isn’t something most alphas can handle…” Kimura muttered. “But you seem to be handling it pretty well, huh?”

(Name) hummed. “You bitched me because of my brother, right? Why are you treating me like this?”

Kimura gripped (Name)’s chin and forced him to look up at him. “I would’ve bitched you even if your brother didn’t kidnap my sister. I wanted you for awhile now.”

“Wh—wha? How did you know me?”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Kimura smirked.

“Does it look like I do?”

Kimura simply hummed as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on (Name)’s healed mating mark. A sudden mewl left (Name)’s lips as he felt his cock twitch at the touch. He couldn’t contain his purring as he felt Kimura bit over his mating mark.

“You don’t have a clue on how long I’ve waiting for you.” Kimura whispered. “No matter how much you initially fight me, I’ll continue to love you.”

(Name) blushed. Love? This man, who could be five years his senior, loved him? He, in the first time once he saw him, got a good look at his features. Dark jet black hair with medium length bangs. Sharp monolids that resembled a cat. Medium lips that could widen into a sinister smirk if he wanted to.

He wasn’t scary to look at, at least.

(Name) opened his mouth to speak only to feel a sudden gush of something wet from his ass. He watched as Kimura only had to sniff once to know what he was smelling.

“Already? Your heat is coming.” Kimura muttered, easily maneuvering (Name) to lay down on the bed as he pulled off his boxers. (Name) hated how he didn’t struggle.

He wanted to but his body wouldn’t listen. It was the stupid omega that was purring at the sight of ‘his’ alpha pleasuring him.

“Before you touch me down there, who are you? Yakuza?”

Kimura stared at (Name) before grinning. “Maybe. You can’t be this rich without some side businesses.”

“Like my parents.”

“We’re nothing like your scum of earth parents. Don’t you ever try to say my family is anything like them, alright?” Kimura glared at him, making him quickly agree,

“Don’t worry, baby. You won’t be a Harada anymore. You’ll be a Kimura.”

“Then… you’re Taiki…?”

“Yeah. Taiki, wanna scream it?”

(Name) shook his head even though the slick looking at his ass was beginning to bother him. Taiki simply chuckled before slipping in two fingers into his ass.

A scream left the newly omega beneath him as he thrusted the fingers deep inside, dragging them against his warm walls as they tightened around him. (Name) hated how he craved this. How he wanted to pull Taiki in closer.

“Can you imagine my cock instead of my fingers? I think you’d honestly prefer it,” Taiki laughed.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” (Name) cried, not sounding at all as the angry alpha he used to. Now he only reminded Taiki of a whiny omega who needed to be fucked during their heat.

“Fine, fine. We can sit in silence.”

With that, he thrusted in a third finger, dragging it in deep enough to brush against his prostate. A scream left (Name)’s lips as his back arched. He’d never had anything up his ass before and he hated how easily his body was taking it.

There was no resistance. Slick continued to drip out, making it easier for Taiki to continuously stimulate his prostate. (Name) didn’t really like the silence, being as his moans and whimpers were the only thing in the room.

Well, until a certain bark caught his attention.

“OH MY GOD!!”

“What?!”

“Get the dog out!!”

“Sana is fine. She doesn’t know what we’re doing.”

“Out or you’ll never fuck me!!”

Taiki cursed but did as he was told, removing his fingers and grabbing Sana to take her out of the room. Sana whined at this but didn’t fight his hold. Once the door closed when she was put out, Taiki frowned to see (Name) fully covered with a blanket.

“Seriously?”

“Get away.”

“If I’m away, your omega will cry.”

“No sex.”

“Fine. You initiating it will be sexy later. Since you’re still leaking slick,” Taiki said, turning on the tv.

“I’m stuck like this…?”

Taiki turned his attention back over to him, leaning over. (Name) watched as Taiki surprisingly showed off his neck, his scent gland. Did he want…

“Go ahead. Bind me to you like I bound you to me.”

(Name) should’ve pushed him away. Slap him. Fucking kick him away for doing this to him. But he gripped Taiki’s shoulder and pulled him in as he bite harshly at his scent gland. He enjoyed the grimace he earned from Taiki, making sure the mark would take.

The taste of blood was metallic and a bit gross at best. (Name) pulled away with blood coating his lips as he stared at the mark. It was…

It made his heart swell at the sight. Taiki was his…

The stupid omega in him was fucking happy but he wasn’t.

He couldn’t be.

“Happy?”

“No! Get out of my sight!”

“No. This is my room.”

“What?!”

“And you’re wearing my clothes.”

(Name) was ready to take this clothes off but decided against it. He’d rather not be naked.

“You’ve ruined my life.”

“I think I made it better, Omega.”

(Name) ignored the sudden rush of slick in his ass.

He was screwed.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Wrote way more than I usual ever do… this character actually has plot 💀 first time besides Riki (who gets a part 2 on Sunday)

Taiki’s debut! Can’t wait to write more for him, if you guys want a part 2!

Thank you so much for 1k followers!

#bottom male reader #x male reader

1K notes · View notes

kentoberry · 2 years

Text

YOU GET SICK ! — jjk men.

ABOUT : how the jjk men take care of their sick s/o !

STARRING : toji fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo.

NOTES : gn reader , mention of being throwing up in nanami's part. — this is 100% self indulgent and i can't even hide it. [ minors dni as i post nsft content. ]

TOJI FUSHIGURO

· he's trying his best, and that's what counts.

· at first, you might find that toji accidentally babies you. it's somewhat condescending, but his only experience in dealing with sick people comes from how he perceived nannies in the zen'in clan taking care of poorly toddlers. he'll definitely be making airplane noises when he spoonfeeds you some medicine, and would even swaddle you in cosy blankets like you would an actual baby. although annoying, it's something extremely endearing. you can even see the tips of his ears turn red in embarrassment when you offer him some pointers.

· affection isn't toji's strong suit, but when you're not feeling the best, he's surprisingly sweet (so much that you wish you got sick more often). he knows he's warm, so he keeps you wrapped in not only a bundle of blankets, but his arms too. you can use him like your personal heater, and he won't complain one bit. expect a lot of cuddles and even more forehead kisses !!

· toji also tries to pick up as many household chores as he can ! he'll cook something simple for you, make sure all of the dishes are done, and every room stays mostly spotless. he'll let you help out a little bit (for example, he lets you bark orders at him whilst he cooks!).

NANAMI KENTO

· lord. . . he's perfect.

· nanami is attentive, yet rigorous when it comes to taking medications, eating enough, and staying hydrated. he's working from home whilst you're sick, and will be extremely stubborn if you try to convince him that you'll be okay and that he should go in to work.

· whether you're feeling too hot or too cold, nanami likes to have you lay with your head in his lap. he'll wrap you in many blankets if it's the latter, tucking you in tightly while you watch something of your choosing on the tv. he adores this position because it makes him feel as though he can watch over you best, and he can't deny how darn cute you look whenever you gaze up at him. usually he'll have one arm draped over your torso and another propping up his book.

· speaking of books, if you struggle to get comfortable or to sleep, nanami will offer to read to you. his deep voice is extremely calming, and you'll find youself relaxing in his hold in no time. either he'll simply pick up whatever book is closest too him and narrate a few chapters, or (especially if you're really struggling) he'll grab one of your favourite tales off of the shelf and read it to you.

· you don't need to worry about anything at all, nanami has it covered! he's cooking every meal, ensuring that your cabinets and fridge is staying stocked full, and even taking care of your laundry. further proof that he thought of everything can be seen in the scrunchie that he keeps on his wrist, a quick solution if you find yourself hunched over in the bathroom and need your hair kept out of your face.

SATORU GOJO

· man child.

· satoru is one to boast about never getting sick himself, so when his s/o finds themselves falling under the weather, he panics. shoko has to put her phone on silent because of the wall of texts that he sends her, full of questions and panicked exclamations. she'll offer up some general advice to shut him up, because she can tell that he's acting a little bit overdramatic, even through text.

· when gojo finally gets himself together, he transforms into a big teddy bear. the man doesn't realise that he too will fall ill if he doesn't stop peppering butterfly kisses all over your face. you had to use a chunk of your depleted energy to fend him off of you, but even then satoru refuses to remove his arms from your waist.

· he carries you everywhere too !! he carries you into the bathroom and sits you on the counter whilst you both brush your teeth, settles you down on a barstool in the kitchen as he struggles to find something in his cupboards that isn't overwhelmingly sweet.

· in the end, satoru settles for locating every single blanket and pillow in his apartment and building a makeshift nest on the couches. he orders any takeout foods you crave, and will certainly abuse his power and have some of his students pick up any medications or other things that you need. the remainder of the day is spent bundled up together and watching some of your favourite shows and movies, and satoru watching over you as you doze off in his arms.

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ariadnes-red-thread · 1 year

Note

Aria!! For your follower celebration…

11. “Louder. Let me hear you.”

And/or

21. “Don’t hold back.”

for Fives 😏

Congratulations babes!! You deserve it!! 🥳🥳

ERIN, MY LOVE!! This ask has CONSUMED me for the last three weeks. Life has been so busy, and I'm sorry it took so long (and I'm sorry to everyone who is still waiting on their asks. THEY WILL HAPPEN, I SWEAR). But I've been working on it, slowly, in every free moment because Fives + those words are EVERYTHING to me. Thank you so much for always being such a lovely friend and supporter. I'm so lucky to have met you here. Hope you enjoy this smutty mess 😏

Pairing: Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning: NSFT *MINORS DNI*, Explicit sexual content, established relationship, Fingering, Oral Sex (female receiving), PiV sex, Soft Dom!Fives if you squint

The hotel room was… luxurious. There was no other word for it. To start, a floor to ceiling window looked out over the rooftops of Coruscant. The moons dazzling in the windows, lit the rest of the bedchamber in a silvery glow and splashed like glittered paint against the dark oak of the other three walls. All other light came from a single, moody chandelier that hung low enough from the vaulted ceiling that it seemed to be dangling from the darkness itself. Pushed up against the wall opposite the window, and occupying most of the room, was a large, round bed, easily bigger than anything you’d ever slept on and likely bigger than your tiny closet of a room on the Venator. It was covered with a plush dark gray duvet and several light gray satin pillows. A full bar was tucked into the dark wood beside the bed, stocked with fine bottles of Corwellian whiskey and Naboo wine, which the kind twi’lek working the front desk of the hotel had informed you were complimentary.

You couldn’t imagine how much Padme had paid for this room and it turned your stomach a little just to consider as you took in all of the fine details. The stay was a gift, she had whispered to you as she pressed the key into your hand during a tight hug after you and her husband had debriefed the Senate on your latest battle. It was a thank you, she quickly and quietly explained, for looking out for Anakin once again. There was also the unspoken connection of shared secrets. You knew she felt for you and Fives. Unlike her and Anakin, with her senatorial suite, you had no refuge, no where for you to relax. It was always stolen moments in dark corners. Still, the cost of it all twisted at you and you frowned, wishing she hadn’t gone through the trouble until your eyes landed on Fives’ face. Then, you realized you would have paid the price yourself, however many credits it was, without even thinking.

The clone stood at the window, his dark eyes glittering in the moonbeam that fell across his face. A soft smile lay on his lips and he stared out over the skyline of the city in silence. From here, the penthouse of one of the tallest buildings on the planet, the neon of the city below twinkled like colorful stars in a far-away galaxy.

You quickly crossed the room to him, wrapping your arms around his core and hugging him from behind as you stood on your toes to peer over his shoulder and share the striking view.

“I’ve never seen it like this.” Fives finally spoke. “Always lookin’ through my HUD or hanging out the side of a gunship or too busy to even look. It’s… almost peaceful.”

You dropped your gaze and pressed a kiss against the warm skin of his neck. The smell of blaster plasma struck you. It wasn’t overpowering but it was a sharp contrast to the woody perfumed scent of the room. It shouldn’t have been surprising. You came here straight from the briefing, throwing on civilian clothes and stuffing your Jedi robes into your satchel in a remote bathroom far away from the more busy halls of the Senate before you rushed to meet Fives in one of your designated, rotating meeting spots. He appeared as you did, out of breath and in wrinkled civilian clothes. While the change of clothes may have helped hide your identities, it did little to free either of you from the grime of the battlefield that still clung to your skin.

You squeezed your boyfriend tightly around the waist before you let go. Turning back towards the room, you spotted an unexplored door near the bed that whispered promises of a bathroom and perhaps even a shower.

Before you could move, Fives’ form spun and out of the corner of your eye, you watched as he dove from his spot by the window into the bed. He let out a revenant groan at the lux mattress as he sunk into its forgiving embrace.

“We’re never leaving here.” He declared. “Tell Padme we’re moving in.”

“I’ll let her know.” You chuckled at the ARC trooper.

Fives rolled onto his side, found your eyes, and patted the duvet next to him. It’s soft surface invitingly gave way under his hand.

“Now come here, mesh’la.” His words were playful, but you could hear promises in the low timbre of his voice.

You wanted nothing more than to have him make good on those unspoken pledges, but the smell of blaster plasma still haunted you.

“I’m going to shower.” You sighed, flashing a sad smile at your boyfriend.

Fives groaned, his head flopping back onto one of the pillows as his face scrunched into a pout.

“You could always join me.”

You smirked at Fives just long enough to watch him lift himself up, and his jaw drop open. Then, with a teasing saunter towards the bathroom, you turned your back to him as you pulled your shirt over your head and cast it aside You waited until you opened the door before you paused for just a moment. Reaching up to the clasp of your bra, you glanced over your shoulder. Fives was sitting up in bed, his spine straight, jaw still hanging, and a dark hunger in his eye. With a wink and a flick of your wrist, you let you bra fall to the floor and pulled the door shut b behind you.

The bathroom was as stunning as the bedroom. White tile and marble covered almost every surface. Two panes of glass - true glass, not transparisteel - encased a corner of the room for the shower. The other two walls and the floor of the shower were dark, semi-polished stone. It was a real water shower, with one head that hung off the wall and another that came down in the middle of the shower. When you swung open the glass door and turned the water on, it cascaded from the ceiling like rain.

You heard the door open. Fives was already behind you and, from the sound of rustle of fabric, quickly shedding his clothing.

His chest pressed against your back, bringing a heat that sent a warmth pooling through your body. His hands gilded around your waist and down the soft skin of your stomach. As his lips found your neck, he unbuttoned the clasp of your pants and let them drop to your ankles, pushing your panties down along with pants.

Fives carefully spun you towards him and you stepped out of the last fabric, kicking them aside. You grinned up at him, expecting your playful boyfriend to be grinning back. Instead, Fives stared down at you with an uncharacteristically faraway look.

“You okay?” You reached up, a palm coming to his cheek.

Fives leaned into your touch as he gave a small nod.

“Just…” His eyes quickly snapped to focus on you. “...feeling lucky.”

You gently tilted his face to you and pressed a soft kiss on his brow

“Me too.” You murmured against his skin before you tugged him, stepping backwards over the lip of the shower. “Now, come on.”

You pulled Fives under the rain of the center head, letting the warm liquid run down your bodies. His lips found yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue entered your mouth, intertwining and dancing with yours. The water fell over your skin like a chant, reinvigorating your battle-tired body. You both began to awaken, your hands moving slowly over each other’s bodies, exploring the lines you know so well.

Breaking the kiss, you reached for the one of the crystal bottles that sat on the small recessed shelf. Glancing at the labels, you found the hotel’s body wash and emptied a third of the bottle into your hands. You brought your hands to Fives’ wide chest while you created a small lather. You let your palms dance across his body, tracing old scars, trailing along taut muscles, rubbing away the remnants of battle, and, as you trailed your way behind him, massaging the stress from his hard-working limbs. He let out a soft moan at your touch.

“Feels so good, cyare.” Fives muttered, his back to you as you worked a knot in his shoulder. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Not yet,” you promised.

Your hands wrapped around his waist, ghosted down over the ribbed muscles of his stomach and finally found his half-hard member. Fives shuddered as you took him in hand, bucking at your touch. You ran your thumb in slow circles around his tip as you slid your other hand down towards his base.

He leaned back into you with a sigh as his head fell towards his chest, not enough to where you were supporting him but enough to where you knew the havoc that you were wreaking on him. You squeezed gently as you worked him, feeling him throb and pulse under your hand as his cock hardened and leaked.

“That’s enough,” Fives finally hissed through gritted teeth as he firmly wrapped his hands around your wrists and tugged you away from his cock. “My turn.”

Not letting go of your wrists, he spun towards you, crossing your arms over and leaving you at his mercy. He passed your left wrist into his left hand, holding both your arms in his grip. You looked up at the wrecked look on his face and knew he was holding you for his own protection. He wanted this to last and you had brought him to the brink. Fives reach for the soap on its tiny polished perch. Unscrewing the top off with his teeth, he drizzled another third off the bottle over your shoulders and down your chest. Then he pulled you towards him before he released your hands.

His wide, usually rough palms were soft from the water. He pressed them into you, using the soap and the warm liquid to pull the tiredness from your muscles, releasing the stress and ache from your body. His hands reached over you to run down your spine, and then back up and over your shoulders, where he traced his way down your chest. With his long and wide pointer finger, he began to draw small circles along your breast, stopping on to tease your nipple with his knuckle. After the flesh raised underneath his touch, he caught it between his knuckle and his thumb, tugging at your nipple just enough so that it pinched in the sweetest way. Fives chewed on his lip as he watched you sigh and gasp under his ministrations, never breaking eye contact, holding your dark pupils with his blown ones.

His hand finally foraged on, tracing its way through the droplets that ran down your skin. After drawing a line down the etching of your hip, Fives spread his first two fingers and ran them gently along the outside of your lower lips. A small squeak escaped you at his teasing.

“Easy, mesh’la.” Fives flashed a wicked smile. “You’ll get what you need.”

His hands found your hips and he pressed you into the back wall before he fell to his knees. Emerging from the stream of the shower and the touch of the cool stone was a sharp contrast to the warm water and the heat of Fives. Goosebumps spread over your skin at the change and in anticipation. Fives grinned up at you from his knees one more time before he pressed his swollen lips to your hip. He laid one delicate kiss after another along your inner thigh as he moved closer and closer to your aching core. Finally, his tongue found its way between your lips and he circled around your delicate bundle of nerves. You canted your hips at the feeling. He replied with a strong palm to your belly, holding you in place while he dove into your center. Fives lapped wave after wave, his tongue dancing along your lips, delving into your depths, and drawing rapturous designs into your most sensitive skin.

“Fives,” you mumbled his name in between punched-out words of praise. “Feels so-so good.”

Your hand found purchase in his thick curls and he let out a small moan against you as you tugged, reverberating your core. Fives was never shy about his love of praise or how he liked it when you pulled his hair. Two thick fingers ran through your folds, collecting slick. He paused his ministrations for a moment as he sat back on his heel. Fives brought the finger ups to his mouth and gilded them between his lips. Slack-jawed at the gorgeous sight, you still found yourself lightly thrusting into the air, searching for friction as the sudden lack of attention drove you a little mad.

Fives looked up, catching your eye with his wide grin as he pulled the glistening thick fingers form his mouth. The water rained down on him but he still held your stare.

“So sweet,” Fives huffed. “I could drown in your pussy.”

Before you could say anything, his two fingers slid home. You let out a groan at the sudden but needed intrusion. He slowly teased you open, hooking his fingers to find your sweet spongy spot, and then spreading them to prepare you with a promise of more. Each movement brought heat and electricity to your most sensitive spots and you felt a warmth began to collect in the pit of your stomach.

Fives hooked his fingers again as his mouth found your bud, sucking it between his teeth and teasing it with his tongue. You let out a cry as white began to cloud your vision. You trembled at the edge when, suddenly, Fives pulled his fingers from you.

You wobbled as you let out a wordless cry of protest.

“Please,” You pleaded as you found his eyes again, grinning up at you once more. “Please, Fives.”

He climbed to his feet, chuckling to himself. He pressed a kiss to your nose, an annoying gesture considering how close you had been. When your face twisted into a pout, Fives let out a deep laugh.

“I only want you cumming around my cock tonight, cyare.”

With that, Fives caged you into the stone. He lifted up your leg, hooking it around his hip. Taking himself in his hand, Fives slotted against your entrance. You bit your lip, your frustration forgotten, and you raised your hand to your mouth in anticipation of muffling the pleasure to come.

At the movement, Fives looked up from where your bodies were about to join to your face. He gently pulled the hand you had clasped over your lips from your mouth.

“Don’t hold back.” He gave you a sideways smile before he kissed your palm.

“Fives-” You started to protest.

“No one else is here, mesh’la,” Fives’ voice slipped into the low cantor he got whenever he gave an order. “No vod, no crew, no Jedi, and I want to hear every sound you make.”

Fives reached for your other hand, lifting both arms above your head and pressing them into the stone. The slick, smooth surface on your spine made you shiver again but the warmth of your body quickly won out. The electric feeling stayed though as you felt Fives’ thick head enter you. He let out a long breath as he slowly slid home, opening you up. A hooked, pitched moan left you at the beautiful stretch. Fives’ face fell as he brought his hips flush to yours. He stilled his lower half to let you adjust to his size. For all of his preparations, it was always still a stretch. Foreheads pressed together, you both let out shaky exhales. Fives’ chest heaved as he held himself back. He dropped his head further to pepper kisses along your neck, nipping and licking at the sensitive flesh. His hands flexed against the stone, still holding your wrists in place, every bit of him moving except his hips as he waited for you to be ready.

“Okay, okay.” You finally began to rock your own hips against him. “More, please.”

“Anything for you, cyare.”

His reply was low and stilted control, seeing through every syllable. He began to rock into you, slow and steady, pulling moan after moan out of you with every movement of his hips.

“That’s right, mesh’la. Louder, let me hear you.” The words were jutted and breathy against your neck. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

You didn’t. You let him hear everything he never got to hear. You babbled in throaty wanton tones while his length reached into you and pulled out notes that you didn’t know you could sing. You’d never been able to be with him like this, carefree and all ot yourself. It was always hushed and hurried. It was only ever quiet kisses and gasps smothered into palms and shoulders as you both tried not to get caught. Now, you could let him hear every ounce of pleasure he pulled from you, every new centimeter he discovered as you opened up to him. He let go of your wrists, wrapping around your back. Your hands fell to his neck, scrambling both for steadiness and to pull him closer as you melted into his arms.

Then, Fives stilled. Before you could wonder, he pulled himself out, lowered your leg, and spun you to face the wall. You threw your hands out to brace yourself on the stone’s surface, moving in tandem with him like you were still on the battlefield. He entered you again, deeper even than before. One hand came to your chest, holding you against him, while the other snaked its way down your center, finding your swollen mound. Every thrust keened you further up into his chest until the line where you ended and Fives began started to blur. Water flowed over him down onto you in a perfect river, winding but endless. His lips found your neck again where he pressed hard, sloppy kisses and murmured words that you could barely hear over your own sinful moans and sobs. Fives took your earlobe into his teeth, biting down as he let out a warm breath. Your whole body began to shake as he pressed rhythmic circles into your center while he fucked you furiously. With a final cry of his name, you came.

Fives’ hips staccatoed as he chased his own high. A warmth flooded you as he finished, collapsing into your back while still holding you up on weak legs. Quickly he straightened, pulling you up with him, and gathering you into his chest. Soft kisses were bestrewn over your skin. You dazed in his arms as he washed you another time, cleaning your lower half.

You let Fives turn off the shower and wrap you in a lush, white towel before he guided you to bed. Climbing in behind you, he pulled you into his broad chest and wrapped you up in his arms. Your eyes began to flutter as weariness overtook you. You could feel Fives’ breath become rhythmic against your shoulder as you drifted into your own dreams. There, under the loving gaze of the moons, you both found peace.

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itsohh · 2 years

Text

Boo

A/N: G/N reader, Halloween themed! I’m glad you have been enjoying it anon!

Day 14: Stockings

Word count: 1344

Warnings: NSFT, smut

AO3 Kinktober Masterlist

It hadn't been compulsory to come to the base Halloween party, for religious or personal preference. Yet, Harry encouraged everyone to come on the grounds that it would bring people together and act as a time for teams to socialise outside of the battlefield. Which is how Jordan found himself in a half-arsed Walter White costume talking to Miles who wore an impressive Blade costume with fake metal stakes and all.

Miles glanced over Jordan's shoulder and let out a laugh, his grin spreading across his face. Confused, Jordan turned to see a familiar pair of legs and Yumiko. There Yumiko stood in a picture-perfect mirror of Jordan's usual self. His eyes fell from the goggles on her face to the wraps around her hands. She laughed when she made eye contact with Jordan, a roll in his eyes. "Told you it would be funny." You whispered next to her as you approached. Jordan focused on your legs and squinted at you.

You could have sworn you saw his cheeks go a little red as he examined the stockings that covered your legs and hid down into the heels. "My eye are up here." You pointed to the black circles on the white sheet that made up the majority of your costume. There was almost a loon of relief on Jordan's face when he recognised your voice.

"Let me guess, sexy ghost and sexy chemist?" Miles joked as he held his drink. His laughter became an uproar when Jordan shot him a look, laughter which you and Yumiko joined in on.

“Hilarious as always Miles.” Jordan finally chuckled to himself, never one to bring the mood down.

“So my question is what took you two so long, I think you two are the last we have seen all night. Even Eliza came and left.”

“Shit really? Did she dress up?” You said from under the sheet, something that made it a little hard to take you seriously.

“As a cat, had this hat on with ears but that was the extent of it.” Miles explained.

“Awh, I can’t believe I missed it.”

“Elena took some photos earlier maybe she-” Jordan had barely finished his sentence as you rushed off to where Elena stood in the corner of the room.

“You really should have seen that coming. Anyway, the pair of us were trying to figure out the smallest hole they could fit through.” Yumiko spoke, her face and tone were completely neutral. Jordan saw little of you after that until eventually, he retired his way back to his dorm. The yellow suit was loosely clinging to him when he opened the door. However, you had managed to beat him to his room and now lay on his bed. With your phone in your hands, you lay on your front, legs swinging in the air. Without looking up your voice called out to the man.

“Hey Jordan, have fun?” The mask that lay around his neck was discarded.

“Yeah I did, I hope you did too boo-utiful.” You rolled your eyes under the sheet at his pun and rolled onto your back before you sat up, legs dangling off the side of his bed. “So what's with the ghost costume.”

“Don’t like it?”

“Oh I do, it shows off some of your best assets.” His eyes wandered from the bottom of your legs up to the top of your thighs where stockings finished with a ring of lace. “I can’t help but wonder what's under the sheet.” His eyes flickered up to where yours would be, only the black two circles.

“What I was wearing at the time is over there.” You pointed to the chair by his desk, one that had a white shirt and shorts on it. A few seconds ticked and Jordan realised what that meant.

“Fuck.” He let out a groan as his mind wandered, imagination getting the best of him. “Baby, oh god.” He practically dropped to his knees in front of you, hands on your ankle. You lift your left leg in the air for easier access and he ran his hand up and down the fabric. Kisses trailed up on the inside of your leg until he reached the top and his eyes flashed up. He snapped the top of the stocking causing you to make a light jump and used the opportunity to snatch the sheet away from your body.

He practically froze when the sheet was thrown to the floor, your body completely naked. “You alright there Mr White?” This managed to snap him out of the dazed state, a smirk on your face. Your free leg raised and you planted your heel in the middle of his chest. With a push, you forced him to let go of you. He fell back and looked up at you with a lustful gaze. A laugh left your lips and you cross your ankles innocently. “Strip.” Came your command and Jordan rushed to obey it, his shirt was flung off and he practically ripped the costume off himself. There in front of you, he stood, cock red with arousal, eyes glued on you.

As a reward, you threw the frog dispenser up at him which he promptly caught with ease. He practically groaned as he spread the lube over his cock. With both hands, he ran them up the fabric on your legs, a tight grip to prevent you from moving. With a sudden yank, he pulled you further down the bed and shut your legs so they were hard-pressed together. Was he going to…? The thought on your mind was pushed away as he pushed his cock between your thigh, the lubrication making it slide in between them with ease. His dick brushed against your pelvis and he let out a grunt when he started to fuck your thighs.

Jordan's eyes fluttered closed as he gript you tight, his cock rubbing down against you and his tip would just peak out with every thrust. “Having fun there?” Your voice was far more lustful than you had intended. His eye peeked open, voice breathless.

“You have no idea. You're such a pretty fucking sight.”

“Is that why your eyes were closed?” You teased, your body moving back and forwards on his bed while he continued.

“You, nh, got me there. What can I say your pretty overwhelming.” Your hand snaked down and managed to graze your fingers around the tip of his cock when it poked through your thighs. Yet it slipped through your grasp and Jordan swore out at the contact. Your fingers moved to the side of your legs, lightly playing with the fabric, knowing fully well that Jordan was watching you the entire time. He used one arm to hold both your legs and the free one joined ones of yours before he planted his hand firmly against it and gave it a hard squeeze. His hand stayed there as his pace quickened, his end coming near.

“I swear I feel like I’m a goddamn teenager again with you.” He breathed out, face scrunched up. “Oh fuck.” He started to chant out, mixed with praises of your name. With one final thrust, he buried his cock between your thighs and his cum shot out, coating your stomach and chest. Some managed to hit you in the chin, narrowly missing your face. The hot liquid warmed your skin and he eventually let your legs go, free to fall down again, the heels briefing knocking against each other as you regain control over your legs. Jordan panted out long breaths and he ran a hand through his hair, eventually looking up at your smug expression.

“I hope you not calling it a night Jordan.” Your tongue ran over your teeth as you wriggled back on the bed, now in a comfortable lazy position. In response he squinted his eyes and started to crawl over your body, his cum brushing against his bare body.

“Oh trust me, baby, I won’t be done with you for a while.”

#r6s #r6s x reader #rainbow six siege #thermite x reader #jordan trace

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theclonarium · 5 months

Text

Masterpost!

Name: Eli Pronouns: she/her Owned clones: 69 and counting! (24/5/23) Feel free to send an ask and I'll share a little more I am fully aware of the reference to greek mythology in my url, kudos to those who understand. Yes this is the home to the Clonarium, the revolutionary home for all your adopted clones! We guarentee a small and comfortable enviroment for your clones to blossom freely without the stresses and pains or war!* Currently we are out of stock but as soon as we gain more a link will be added to this blog. I doodle a lot and have a persistant habit of collecting clones. I own a plush dog and am drinking some breakfast tea right now. If you want to talk star wars and clones, hit me up and don't be afraid to send an ask/@ me for a chat! ;) #clonarium rambles ~ is my tag for original posts #clonariums asks ~ my tag for asks

#clonariums nsft ~ my tag for nsft thoughts. All appropriately tagged.

#clonariums drawings ~ my tag for original drawings!

*disclaimer: clonariums do not in fact guarentee the safety of your clone troopers. Here at Clonarium we do not take responsibility for any lost, injured, traumatised or otherwise damaged clone troopers that may occur from being placed in our clonariums. However if you purchase ten clonariums in one go you do gain a lifetime supply of missmatched prosthetics for FREE!

#intro post

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prettyiwa · 2 years

Text

AO3 | Fic Page | NSFT 18+ | Playlist (🎵)

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work anywhere. Do not mention me or my work on Tik-Tok.

Relationship: Iwaizumi Hajime x F!Reader Rating: Mature 18+ Content Warnings: Post-Time Skip, Manga Spoilers, Vignette, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Smut, Oral (F! Receiving) Summary: Hajime finds himself thoroughly enjoying his favorite way to tell you that he loves you the night before your anniversary. Word Count: 570 Network: @sakuroo, @izzabeean

A/N: Written for @monsteur's "I Love You." Collab, featuring the second to last installment of over the course of 24 hours. This was going to be completely different—both the last entry piece and the piece I wanted to submit for the collab, but something about domestic and devoted Iwa hits home in a way that I need right now. So... enjoy~ 😘

I love you.

It’s quietly pressed into each kiss he bestows upon you when you return from long shifts spent in rotation. He’s certain to wrap you in it, tenderly unraveling you from the stressors of the day until you’re putty in his hands. You melt against him, allowing him to take care of you after you spent the day taking care of others.

I love you.

The act of holding his arms wide open for you before you press yourself to him, before he closes his arms around you, keeping you close. A mess of tangled limbs as tranquility takes hold of you both, fingers tracing unintelligible patterns into each other’s skin. Talking about the day, the past, the future, all in gentle, dulcet tones that communicate the comfort found in the other.

I love you.

Massaged into stiff muscles after training with professional athletes for hours on end, dealing with personalities much more persistent than those in high school. Hands that never leave him, that stay attached, offering relief and support, the kind he never knew he needed until he had met you.

I love you.

A thousand little ways to communicate his feelings, your feelings because it took him a while to learn that you say it with touch rather than with words. Not that you don’t say it, but you prefer to put more stock into actions rather than words, into physical affection given rather than verbal affection.

You love so freely, give so freely that it took him so long to figure out that you had been revealing your romantic intentions, your romantic feelings for longer than he had realized. It took him far too long to realize that your touch was reserved for him and him alone, so he treasures it above all else, reciprocates with such tenderness that it’s love overflowing.

“Hajime,” you murmur as he traces the curves of your body with his lips. Even though he knows your body like the back of his hand, he takes his time as though he’s exploring it for the first time, relishing each breathy sigh, each subdued moan, each soft invocation you offer. His fingers intertwine with yours, pinning them to your sides as he makes his way down your body.

I love you.

The feel of you against him fills his heart. You calm him, excite him, reassure him of your presence, of the vow you two made to one another a year ago. Ten years of history put into each touch, the promise of more to come stitched into the curve of your lips as they caress his skin.

You start to squirm against him, start to writhe in his grasp and your small whimpers turn into breathy moans. Nails start biting into the skin of the back of his hand as he buries himself between your legs, reminding you how he’s waited for this, for the chance to worship you through the night before having a shared day off for your anniversary.

“Hajime—” A fevered pitch, tapered off into a whine announcing your first climax of the night. From his position between your thighs, he can see the small furrowing of your brow, the desperate look in your eyes, the love that pools within just before you tense and tremble under his touch.

You don’t need to say it for him to hear it, for him to feel it.

I love you, too.

❰ over the course of 24 hours | Three Choices ❱

#iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi hajime x reader #''I love you.'' collab #🏐.haikyuu!!#✒.ix writes #✒.otc24

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hitchell-mope · 3 years

Text

ABC headcanons part 2. Doug Greenman

WARNING!!!! THIS POST CONTAINS NSFT MATERIAL

His relationship with Evie will be included with this seeing as it makes no sense to me to not include it if you know what I mean

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after the act). Doug is very attentive after the act. He’s got a mini fridge stocked with water and snacks. And thanks to some inner house tweaks they’ve got a self cleaning “macrame room” made specifically for their sessions so they don’t need to worry about cleaning up the bed. At least not often.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s). Doug takes great pride in his hands. They’re very skilled and very fast. And he loves Evie’s smile. Especially when he’s the cause of it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically). He’s not a fan. He’s doesn’t like the mess. But fortunately the macrame room takes care of it if there’s any unforeseen messes

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs). The macrame room is their own secret. Though thanks to Jay it’s more of an open secret. But the contents of the room is still under wraps. So it still counts

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?). Very experienced. Between research and the many times he’s had the actual act itself Doug is very adapt in all areas of intimate affection

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying). Doug likes to stand up straight and hold Evie up. As in. Standing up straight and holding her up in the middle of the room. It’s Evie’s favourite position too

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc). Oooh. Doug is very serious in the heat of the moment. Very focused on what he’s doing. Evie finds it to be incredibly attractive.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.). Beneath the suits and the bow ties and the ardent professionalism. Doug is a true wild man. He’s only ever shaved his face. The rest he allows to grow freely. Just like all dwarves

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…). Doug is definitely a romantic. Despite their exploits being enough to make even the most coarse person on earth blush and faint he tries to make the experience as romantic as possible. And he’s always successful.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon). He’s not adverse to it. And he’s had a lot of personal experience. But he prefers the a actual act to the solo act by.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks). They both like it when Doug shows off his impressive strength. Hence their favourite position. He likes calling Evie “princess”, “my queen”, “your majesty and “your highness”. And he likes it when Evie refers to him by a certain paternal honorific.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do). Their “macrame room”. It’s private, soundproofed and fully equipped for all their needs.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going). The aforementioned honorific. Teaching Evie how to build a cars. Certain dance routines. Massages.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs). There’s no way on heaven, earth or hell that he will do it on a magic carpet in flight mode. The royal jet is more than enough. And he doesn’t like being called royal titles. It just doesn’t appeal to him

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc). Doug is a giver. And a very generous and skilled one at that. He’s also big on receiving as well. Evie’s just as talented as he is

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc). He likes to go slow and powerful. He only goes fast towards the end of the session

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc). If they absolutely have to then Doug is fine with a quick one. But he and Evie both prefer longer sessions

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc). Yes. Hence the macrame room. And the cloning machine set to Doug’s DNA. And the invisibility spray Evie made so she could surprise his at the office. And the little green pills they made to enhance their experiences with each other. Etc etc. Each and every new addition to the room, including the room itself, was and experiment and a risk that paid off beautifully

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…). Doug can last up to four hours nonstop. Wether it’s continuous or split up into rounds is up to how he’s feeling. But it’s never less than two rounds a session. For her part Evie is very good at keeping up

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?). Yes. All situated in the macrame room. All used on Evie. Except for the cloning machine. That’s used on Doug for Evie’s benefit.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease). He mostly uses teasing as payback for Evie teasing him. So if she sends him a selfie when he’s in a meeting. He sends her a very loud video with a caption saying something along the lines of “not tonight” when she’s sending out the to bed delivered. Don’t give out what you can’t take.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make). Doug mostly grunts and growls. Evie screams in enjoyment. Doug gets louder as he reaches the end. Evie tends to cuss in German

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice). He’s the one to suggest they start recording their exploits on film. Evie was very enthusiastic about that suggestion

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words). His smart trousers hide some very heavy duty equipment. That he and Evie both know how to handle. He may not be royalty but he is definitely king sized

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?). He hides it better then most bit he’s always ready for it when Evie asks. And that happens to be once a day minimum.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards). He only falls asleep after he’s cleaned up and made sure that Evie’s alright. So around 5-10 minutes. More if they need to tidy up the macrame room

#disney descendants #evie grimhilde #doug son of dopey #devie #doug x evie #evie x doug #dougevie #eviedoug #zendaya!mal #nsft #abc smut #alphabet smut

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prettyiwa · 3 years

Text

AO3 | NSFT 18+ | Playlist (🎵) | Event

Pairing: Matsukawa Issei x F!Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ | DARK CONTENT Content Warnings: Post-Time Skip, Yandere, Killer!Reader, Background Character Deaths, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Delusional Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, Oral (f! receiving) , Breath Play, Praise Kink, Biting, Possessive Behavior Summary: There's something about you that has Matsukawa willing to go to extremes to know more. Word Count: 4,075

A/N: There are multiple influences for this particular piece, including a favorite fic of mine which is no longer available. The final nail in my coffin was the song "People I Don't Like". I—just.

Anyway. Tagging @izziibean & @sakuroo for some dark Matsukawa content~

The cold night air swirls around the two men as their attention flickers between the tiny glowing screen and the busy streets before them. Issei can’t find it in him to care too much about the chill, despite the harsh shiver that runs through Takahiro, despite the protests of the cold, exposed skin of his nose. His goal for the night, for this weekend, is you.

It was all planned out—an invitation to get food, maybe go to a karaoke bar. He had even gone out of his way to find out your favorite food, your favorite restaurant, just to increase the likelihood that you’d agree. All that went out the window when he caught a glimpse of the lace top of your stockings as your skirt rode up, when he heard you make a passing mention of “plans tonight” when the director asked about your weekend plans.

He didn’t mean for it to get this far, for him to have roped Makki into finding a way into one of the more exclusive clubs in the city, one with a private party and security meant to frighten away any unwanted guests. There’s just something about you that makes all rational thought and coherency leave Issei until all that’s left is an aching, wanting puddle of a man.

And he’s tired of waiting. He’s tired of not getting what he wants.

“Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far, Mattsun?” Makki presses, not bothering to look up from his phone anymore.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought this was a small curiosity of yours—I know you like a good mystery and she… fits that description really well, but you gotta know how this looks,” Makki tries reasoning. His concern is legitimate, buried beneath the burning desire he has to make it past any locked door, but it’s also fleeting. Even if it weren’t, Issei has no intention of bringing Makki into the fold—he doesn’t need to know how deep Issei is.

“I’m not stalking her if that’s what you’re trying to get at,” he denies, hoping Makki doesn’t push the topic any further.

“C’mon. I think this goes a bit beyond ‘curiosity.’ You’re lucky that I am curious at this point, or I wouldn’t be doing this for you.”

A beat of silence falls before both men look up at the other and start laughing. “That’s a lie and we both know it. You’re more curious about what that club’s hiding than what goes on between me and my coworker.”

“Heh. Could be. Could be that I’m hoping that I help you out now and later you hook me up with one of her friends.”

“Got it. I’ll definitely make that a priority of mine,” he snickers, glancing over Makkis’ shoulder. “I’m lucky that you don’t like being told ‘no.’ Are we any closer to finding out what this party’s all about?”

Makki clicks his tongue against his teeth in mild annoyance, opting for silence rather than a definitive answer. He nudges Issei’s shoulder with his own after another minute or so, indicating with his chin that they should stand in line. “Let’s see if this works.”

They approach the line that snakes its way to the entrance of the club, watching as potential patrons are turned away with no chance of entering tonight. Perhaps two or three are granted entry by the time the line places Issei and Makki at the front and, from what the latter says, these bouncers are different from the ones that typically work Friday nights. They seem unused to dealing with the public like this, or as though they’re particularly dispassionate about this crowd.

The men are built like Iwaizumi ever since his return from Irvine, though they’re closer to Makki’s height than Hajime’s. They scowl at the two men, certain that neither belongs in the club—not that they’re wrong—though they do little more than remind Issei of Kyoutani’s grumpy demeanor whenever Oikawa tried to “give orders.” He derives a singular pleasure from watching their grimaces morph into expressions of surprise as Makki shows them something on his phone, not listening as his friend spouts nonsense combined with unfamiliar names so fluidly that even Issei would have bought it.

He tries not to look too self-satisfied when the bouncers step aside, allowing them to enter the club unimpeded. It’s pleasantly busy, just enough so that they have to weave their way through the sea of bodies but not enough that it feels as though everyone’s at risk of being deprived of oxygen. It’s hot inside, though Issei decides against checking his jacket.

Just before they cross the threshold onto the dance floor, Makki stops Issei with a hand on his shoulder. “Ah, I’m gonna find someone to dance with. Don’t do anything to stand out, yeah?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Issei snorts before his friend takes his leave. Making his way to the bar, Issei can’t help the feeling of unease that settles in his gut, whether it’s because of that nervous laugh that Makki gave before leaving coupled with the fact that Makki rarely gets nervous or the simple fact that something feels off, he doesn’t really know. And it doesn’t matter. He’s too close to let this stop him.

Issei knows that this is… unhealthy. The way that he thinks about you? The amount of time spent thinking about you? Ultimately, he wants to chalk it up to the fact that he works with the dead day in and day out, that his supervisor, regardless of his recent absence, is as cold and harsh as the corpses he treats. He wants to chalk it up to some desperate need to see something beautiful and warm and full of life, but you’re not. You’re cold and beautiful and there’s something about you that has just poisoned his heart and his mind until all that’s left is you.

He doesn’t know whether he wants to court you because he seeks to recover those pieces of him that you stole, or whether he wants to court you because he seeks to give you the rest. And, fuck, if he isn’t desperate to know which it is.

Leaning against the bar top, his eyes scan the crowd, faces easily blurring together as there’s little variation in the outfits worn by the men, the hairstyles worn by the women, to the color scheme of the patrons as a whole. The bartender takes his order as he commits himself to finding your face in the crowd—surely, with how your face is permanently ingrained into his memory, he can spot you if he takes a moment to focus.

The alcohol hits his tongue and he savors its taste, its weight before it goes down, before he feels that all too familiar burn, the one that will give way to that comfortable state of physical dissociation, the softening of the world’s edges. It’s not a drink he’s used to finding in a club—something that he’d likely have to go out of his way to find even out of the club—though he’s never been to this particular club to know if it’s truly an oddity.

Honestly, this entire night is an oddity, beyond his pursuit of you, but he can’t quite give it much thought when his gaze finally lands on the subject of his ruminations. Downing the remainder of his drink—not the greatest of moves, he’s sure—he’s quick to make his way through the crowd toward you.

Nothing else matters, not that it ever really did. Makki’s still around here somewhere, but he’s a big boy and can take care of himself. Issei doesn’t need to waste another thought on his friend tonight—not to say that an entire bakery may or may not be gifted to the Hanamaki residence tomorrow. Instead, he can focus entirely on you.

As though you haven’t been occupying the vast majority of his thoughts for the last three weeks.

You—you’re fucking perfect. The dress you’re wearing is a deep blood red, light catching on the silky fabric as you move through the crowd. Your hair and make-up are perfectly styled, enough to highlight the natural beauty held in your face without being overt or overpowering. Your eyes—so alive and rife with such emotion that you typically keep hidden away elsewhere.

Before he knows it, he’s standing before you, calling for you just loud enough for you to hear, and when you turn he swears he’s dead and traveled to some kind of afterlife. You’ve killed him, stopped his heart, ceased all coherent brain function. All that exists for him is the way your lips part in surprise, the way your eyes flash with recognition before settling on something just shy of happy, the way you step closer as your face is brightened with an easy and enticing smile.

Considering the man before you, the one who is little more than a stranger, a coworker, someone largely unfamiliar to you, you respond with an uneasy murmur of his family name, though he has every intention of fixing that.

The alcohol from earlier tempts him to make a move, to flirt with you until you’re back at his place while the rational part of him tells him to keep his cool, to avoid coming on too strong and frightening you. You make it impossibly hard when you step a little closer, when your touch turns casual, when your tone turns coquettish.

You… are flirting with him, right?

The rational part of him is trying to caution him, trying to get him to consider that you aren’t as inebriated as you appear. The alcohol—quickly winning out—is asking whether it even matters when Issei’s acting, too. It’s not as though you’re the only one with secrets. Either way, if you give him a chance, the two of you can explore those secrets together.

“I can honestly say that I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight,” you admit.

Glancing towards the crowd, his gaze lands on Makki flirting with an ease that makes Issei jealous. Putting his friend out of his mind—again—he flashes you a charming smile, not missing the way your eyes follow the line of his lips. “If I had known you were interested in places like this, I would have asked you to join me. Good thing you’re here anyway.”

He can pretend it’s casual interest, pretend that it’s in the realm of normal, that he didn’t stalk you to find you here. He can pretend to be a socially acceptable version of him if it gets him you. He’ll be whatever he has to be to get you.

“Oh? And why is that?” you purr, eyes flickering across his face as though you’re seeing him for the first time. Hell, perhaps you are.

Extending his hand to you, he answers, “Because I can’t help but enjoy a good mystery. So? Whaddya say—care to join me for a dance?”

Your answering smile is blinding and he swears that you’re lighting him on fire when you slip your hand into his. “If you’re good on your feet, I’ll give you more than a dance.”

This can’t be real. He has to be dead, dreaming, drugged, something because it’s too good to be real. But if this is the start of an afterlife, if this is nothing more than the fantastical firing of neurons to send him off, then he’s absolutely okay with dying, okay with living out this dream, okay with this high he’s chasing.

Because fuck if your skin doesn’t feel like silk and your voice doesn't sound like sin as he starts to explore the landscape of your body to find out everything he can. He wants to know where to kiss to have you whine, breathy and wanton, where to bite to have you moan, salacious and shameless, where to caress to send shivers running down your spine. Fuck if he hasn’t found his new favorite pastime, his new favorite drug.

Beyond experiencing you, experiencing the taste of you, drowning in the familiar scent of white gardenia, feeling you under his fingertips, watching the expressions of pleasure that flit across your face, beyond the potency of that, you’re giving him just as much as he’s giving you. You’re just as dedicated to mapping out the lines of his body as he is yours, just as intent on leaving your mark, on leaving no part of him untouched or unloved.

Your soft moans fill his bedroom as your fingers tangle in his hair. His mouth works to unravel you, to devour you, to leave you with nothing but his name on your tongue and pleasure that courses throughout your being. He teases you, intentionally avoiding where you want him most, moving from your pretty little lips to the inside of your hip, determined to leave his mark as he sinks his teeth into the soft skin.

He cuts off the harsh cry of his family name with two fingers, instantly pleased by the obedient way you close your lips and start swirling your tongue around them. Pulling away from your drooling cunt, he props himself up to make eye contact with you, almost lost in how fucking destitute you look beneath him.

“The only name I want to hear you call is ‘Issei.’ Understood?” Even with the limited lighting provided by his shitty fucking lamp, he can see the way your pupils dilate as you nod. The corners of your lips quirk upward as you continue sucking around his fingers, causing a wicked grin of his own. “Good girl.”

You hum, increasing suction before he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a slick pop!, shuffling back down the bed until he’s level with your pussy, until his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling them apart and leaving you wide open for him to dive in.

There isn’t a single part of him that doesn’t love this, that doesn’t relish in each noise, each whimper and gasp and breathless expletive that escapes you as he commits the taste and feel of you to memory. His cock throbs, aches for relief and he nearly cums the first time your lips shape his given name, the sinful start of a prayer to a deity unbeknownst to him. Instead, he rewards you with a low groan, with vibrations against your clit as he releases your thigh to tease your entrance with his finger before pushing in.

Already, you’re trembling, close—whether an indicator of any alcohol you may have consumed earlier or raw desire and attraction, he doesn’t know. Truly? He doesn’t give a shit. By the end of tonight, he wants for you to be marked up, wants for your only thought to be of him, wants for you to indisputably be his, ruined for anyone else. He had thought that tonight would be enough, would be a good first step, but that was before he had a taste, before he heard the siren’s call that is his name falling from those perfect lips.

He’s exceedingly, categorically, unconditionally, disgustingly yours and nothing is going to get in the way of making you his.

The first time you cum, it’s with a sharp cry, the drawn out call of his name, the plea for more, something he’s more than happy to oblige. He slips a second finger into your cunt and replaces his tongue with his thumb, wanting to watch you come unraveled by his fingers, playing you like a finely tuned instrument, creating a symphony just for him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes trained on the furrowing of your brows, the soft puckering of your lips, the thin layer of sweat that shimmers across your chest in the low light. “I’ve waited so long for this.” Increasing the pressure he applies on your clit, he rocks his fingers against your g-spot, feeling every minute reaction you give him—the shudder that passes through your body, the quivering of your thighs, the trembling of your walls.

Leaning forward, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, one immediately deepened by you as you anchor yourself to him with both arms wrapping around his shoulders. Tears start to gather in the corners of your eyes as he breathes the command, “C’mon and cum for me, pretty girl. I’m nowhere near done with you, yet.”

His name has never sounded better than as a breathless invocation blanketed in the silk of your voice.

Issei’s body aches as consciousness starts to pull at him following the soft click of a door shutting somewhere in his apartment. His apartment is dark, though there are the reluctant beginnings of the day struggling to break through the curtains that cover his windows, telling him it’s too damn early for him to be up on a Saturday. Rolling to his side, he grabs his phone to confirm that which he already knows only to find a ragged crack that crosses his screen.

The tiny fractures of glass remind him of the night before, of the reason behind his newfound soreness, of the fact that his bed is empty, save for him. Memories from the night before come in like shattered glimpses, struggling to be pieced together to create the whole.

Finding you at the club, flirty and gregarious, eager to please him and play with him. Leaving with you, whispering all of the things he wanted to do to you, with you with your responses being much more salacious. Stumbling through the apartment building, stopping every couple of steps because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. The frantic removal of clothes, resulting in the flinging of his phone from his jacket pocket and the distinct don’t worry about it—focus on me.

Body slow to react while his mind tries to urge him to move faster, to find you because he finally had you, he stumbles from bed like a fool, legs tangled in bedding. He’s never been so desperate, hates that there’s something indescribable about you that has him reacting like this, that has him obsessing over you worse than one of Oikawa’s high school fangirls.

It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter not when you’re his, when he made you come in rapid succession, when he had you calling his name as reverently as he whispered yours, when you fit so perfectly against him. You’re his and he’s a fool for letting you go, regardless of the reason behind his preoccupation.

The corridor is empty, stairwell quiet, no trace of you in the building save for the lingering smell of you in his apartment. Anger bubbles under his skin, directed completely inward as he chucks his useless phone somewhere in his apartment, struggling to push away the remnants of sleep that tug at his mind.

It’s not as though he doesn’t know your schedule, know which cafe you’re likely to attend for lunch, not as though he can’t arrange another “accidental” run-in. He hates this, hates you, hates this glaring weakness at the mere thought of you, of losing you.

All of this—it’s disgusting and pathetic and immediately wiped from his mind upon entering the bathroom and seeing the message you left on his mirror.

Last night was fun. Thanks.

If anything, this cements the hold you have on his heart, the realization that you enjoy him as much as he does you, that you’re his.

His gaze shifts beyond your message, settling on the angry reds and purples that litter across his body. Some are accompanied by the lovely little outline of your teeth-marks still impressed upon his skin, somewhere in the process of scabbing over. Others are messy and disorganized, like you couldn’t keep yourself from wandering. Beautiful constellations mapped across his pale skin, etched together by the angry red scratches of your manicured nails. They serve as proof—proof that you were here, that you mean those words scribbled in red before him, that he’s right to pursue you.

Issei’s fingers absentmindedly trace the delicate line you left when you were grinding in his lap, only to be pulled from his reverie by steady knocking. Pulling on a dirty shirt, he’s prepared to tell whoever’s at the door to—with varying degrees of propriety—cordially fuck off.

At least, that’s the plan until he sees Takahiro darkening his doorway with a slightly alarmed expression.

His friend’s eyes flicker to Issei’s unusual state of dishevelment, to the bruises visible beyond the confines of his shirt. “What the hell happened to you? You disappeared last night without so much as a text,” Takahiro complains, pushing his way past Issei in his determination to reach the kitchen, something which speaks to his general state of unease.

“I ran into her at the club and we came back here. What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

Takahiro shoots him a baleful glare, responding with an annoyed and succinct, “Fuck you.”

“Maybe another time. Seriously, Makki,” Issei presses, watching as his friend rifles through ingredients, setting up the prep space as though it were his. Years of watching Makki stress cook almost has him feeling guilty for shrugging this off, but his attention is still caught on the memory he has of you, spread out beneath him with that blissful smile painted across your face.

“You—you haven’t seen the news, have you?” He glances behind him to where Issei’s leaning against the wall, eyes pausing at the raised eyebrow that silently urges him on. “Fuck. Eh… I guess after you guys had left, there were some guys upstairs that had heart attacks. Even the asshole bouncers out front weren’t feeling too good by the time I slipped out, but it’s all over the news. I’m surprised you haven’t heard anything about it.”

Weird, as far as shit goes, but maybe he’s desensitized to things such as this, dealing with the dead on a near daily basis. The whole spectacle of death has lost its meaning for Issei. Impossible not to, considering the work he does, especially after his workload has doubled since his supervisor’s prolonged absence.

“I’m fine and you’re fine, and it’s not as though cardiac arrest is contagious,” Issei shrugs, pushing away the inclination to grab his phone and peruse through the news before doing the same with his socials, a staple in his routine marred by the cracked screen.

“Eh, true, but the NIID is conducting an investigation separate from the police.” Takahiro’s voice tapers off, allowing for Issei to notice the minute tremor in his hand. “I think we should talk to the—”

“We are not going to the police,” Issei snaps, harsher than he had intended, but it doesn’t help that Makki’s anxiety is starting to feed into Issei’s worry over you. “We didn’t do anything wrong and it’s not our fault they had heart attacks. Besides, what are we going to say? We snuck into a club but didn’t do anything? We’ll just look like suspects. There’s nothing to connect us to last night.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing. If we go and talk to the police, it’ll make us look like suspects, right? We weren’t on the list but we still managed to get inside. Wouldn’t that strike you as suspicious if it were your investigation?”

The sizzling of the first ingredients falling into the pan quickly fills the space between them, loud and crackling, giving both men the opportunity to retreat within themselves.

This entire situation bothers him. His broken phone, your disappearance, Makki’s anxiety, some unrelated bullshit at an overrated club. All of it is so loud and obnoxious and unnecessary, mere obstacles in the way of what he wants.

And what he wants is you, pliant and willing and calling out his name as his fingers tighten around your throat just before you cum. He wants the chance to experience more of you—all of you—here and real, more than the imprinted memory of the wolfsbane and oleander flowers so intricately inked into the inside of your thigh.

Perhaps it’s that which drives him to ignore logic, to push aside overrated concepts of morality, to start considering what had once been nothing more than an errant little thought. He won’t know for certain until after he sees you again come Monday.

Haikyuu!! Masterlist

#matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #🍁.in this together #🏐.haikyuu!!#✒.ix writes #✒.in this together

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