Tw: Choking - Tumblr Posts

Lets Get Food Chapter 2

A brothers best friend fic with Asher x darlin fic and angst

2385 words

id still say this is Pg 13 because it has heavy adult topics but i would not consider it descriptive. I try to be clear with my trigger warning so if you think I should raise my rating or add to the trigger warnings let me know

Tw for this chapter: Extreme exhaustion caused by blood loss, vampire feeding, mentions of rough sex, mentions of sleeping around, scars caused by rough sex, mentions of choking, mention of claustrophobia, mentions of non-consensual choking

i highly appreciate criticism on my writing ,spelling, grammar and story telling. Positive and constructive , so let me know what you think and i hope y'all enjoy : )

tagging @achios @professionallyyappinabtangst

The address attached was familiar.

Asher didn't know why at first, and he was hoping it wasn't someone he knew.

The whole drive, he pondered why he knew this address.

Even after parking and looking out at the place, nothing came to mind.

Until he messaged Darlin, he had arrived.

This is the same place he picked them up last time.

Which had never happened.

There were some places, or people, that they visited more than once, but never in a row.

This one was different.

Asher's mood took a fast dive.

But he didn't have time to think about it as Darlin was pulling on the locked door.

Taking a deep breath and putting on a smile as he unlocked the door

“Took you long enough.”

Darlin's tone made it seem like they had plenty of energy.

But Asher knew to look for other signs.

The shaky hands

Paler skin

The way their face looked like it had no muscles

The heavy breathing

The blinks that were closer to short naps

And of course the marked neck

Normally, Darlin hides a few symptoms at a time.

Today they had all of them.

Once the car door was closed and Darlin was safe in Asher's care, they let the exhaustion take over.

As sometimes needed, Ash leaned over to buckle Darlin in.

The smell of another empowered was strong.

It was abnormal.

Even with the activity and proximity of Darlin and their midnight friends. The scent was never this strong.

Whoever lived in that house wanted Darlin to smell like them.

And Asher had a feeling Darlin wasn't aware of it.

When he finished buckling Darlin in, he pulled up to see the marks on their necks.

It wasn't strange to see the marks; it was actually more weird if they didn't have marks.

But this person

They didn't leave anything to the imagination.

Asher knew Darlin liked it on the rough side.

Just from what he'd seen on their skin and the stories they shared

But this was still something different.

Extreme

There were more bites than needed.

If he didn't know better, he'd assume there was more than one vampire.

then The hickeys

It was hard to tell what was a hickey and what was a bruise.

That was what concerned Asher the most.

The finger bruises that indicated they'd been choked

Darlin was claustrophobic

Darlin doesn't like being trapped.

So it would make sense that Darlin doesn't like being choked.

“Would you stop staring?”

Their eyes weren't even open, but they could feel the intense eyes of Asher.

“Sorry”

He should have left it at that, but he couldn't.

“It's just that you have bruises from being choked.”

Keeping still and with their eyes closed, they replied

“Yeah, that happens when you get choked.”

They were clearly annoyed, but it wasn't enough warning for Asher.

“I know I just sort of thought.”

Then they snapped, at least with their voice, the rest of their body still resting.

“Ash, leave it be. Just drive.”

He whispers a sorry as he starts to drive aimlessly.

Typically that was the plan—drive around till Darlin chose the food that spoke to them.

Asher drove around longer than normal. Darlin kept dozing off, but Asher felt like sleeping after that much blood loss, so he kept shaking them awake.

Eventually, Darlin was able to stay up without Asher's help.

A few minutes later, Darlin said Taco Bell was the place to go today.

When Asher parked, Darlin was still pretty woozy.

“Where’s my sweater?”

Darlin kept an extra sweater in Ash's car, a hooded one to help hide their neck.

They moved their hands around searching with as much strength as they had.

“I've got it, Darlin.”

Then they giggled as Asher reached in the back for the sweater.

He almost didn't believe his ears.

He hadn't heard that laugh in years.

“What's so funny?”

They giggled more.

“That name, it makes me all silly.”

Ash was quite close to their ear when he said it again.

“Darlin”

Darlin closed their eyes, enjoying the sound and the way they could hear that grin.

When they opened their eyes again, Ash was no longer in the car.

He was opening the passenger door, unbuckling them.

They look at him.

Asher felt like a knight in shining armor with the way Darlin's eyes sparkled. At him

He helped Darlin out of the car.

When they got their own standing, Ash unfolded their sweater.

“Can I?”

Ash asked as he presented the sweater.

Darlin nodded and lifted their arms.

Asher pulled the sweater over them, covering the scent the vampire left.

Darlin smelled like them again.

They went into the lobby and ordered their food.

Asher ordered it all, making sure to order 3 times the amount Darlin would typically eat.

He always ordered twice, but he felt today they'd need more.

Darlin stayed silent for the whole thing; they just kept their heads down and ate.

It was around 3 when they finished eating.

Darlin was still clearly worn out.

“I'm going to be honest with you. There's no way we walk in, and David doesn't know something up.”

Darlin's face agreed.

“Maybe, I mean you could stay at my place for the night. Will can tell David we're going to the club. And then later we'll text him that we're too messed up to get to his place, a perfect excuse for us to sleep at my place. Oh, and I've got that whole room for you since Milo moved out.”

Asher was a little excited.

Darlin thought it was cute and mustered up a smile and nod.

And they were off to Ashers.

When they got there, Asher found some clothes for Darlin.

Once changed, Darlin took a nap, which helped them regain a lot of their energy.

While Darlin napped Asher to tidy the place up. His mom always taught him to have a place nice for guests, and he thought Darlin deserved that.

He also found some fuzzy blankets and nice pillows for Darlin, who fell asleep before he could get them anything.

When they woke up, they strolled out to the couch, grabbed one of the fuzzy blankets, and turned the TV on. They wanted to do something with practically no effort.

When Asher finished the dishes, he joined them.

If you could call it that, as he was seated 5 feet away.

They picked a movie and started watching

Asher even made popcorn for Darlin.

He wasn't a fan.

He has no idea why he even had popcorn in his apartment.

As they were watching TV, Asher's eyes gravitated to Darlin's face.

It's amazing what random colors can do.

The way the movie lights cast on their skin.

It was mesmerizing.

At some point, his eyes drifted down to their neck.

He now realized that the shirt he gave them had a wide collar, leaving Darlin's neck very exposed.

And even in the strange light, the marks and brushes on their skin burned in Asher's eyes.

Just as his eyes burned them

They could feel his eyes on them; it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling; people used their eyes to judge them all the time.

It was unfamiliar to know those eyes belonged to Asher.

Asher was the one person they felt would never judge them.

With all that they've told him, he never made them feel wrong.

The most he'd do was cation them without judgment, which was a popular combo.

So feeling those eyes bare into their skin hurt more than ever.

And they weren't known for running away from pain.

“I can feel you staring at my neck.”

Asher choked at nothing, and as much as he knew he should look away, he couldn't.

“I'm—it's just the choke marks.”

Ash explained

“I thought we talked about this.”

Darlin said, but they weren't upset, so safely Asher continued.

“Well, I guess you just never mentioned you liked that stuff.”

Darlin stared at Asher.

He was the one feeling judged now.

making him talk more

“Well, you've been claustrophobic for as long as I've known you; choking seems like it'd be triggering. And like I said, I just didn't know you were into it.”

Not upset but also done with the conversation, Darlin throws a popcorn kernel at him.

“Well, you wouldn't know, because we've never slept together.”

A smirk was on their lips; their eyebrows were up.

Everything said, 'Let's change that.'

Except for their eyes

Hollow

If they let him look longer, he might find fear.

Fear that he realizes he was right

They didn't like being choked.

But it didn't matter; it already happened.

Asher looked into their eyes, Darlin turned away.

They sat and finished the movie.

Asher watched Darlin breathe throughout the rest of it.

Their breathing was only explained as being on the brink of panic.

But he didn't know what to do.

So when they got up to head to bed, he did nothing.

In the morning, Asher got up before Darlin.

Maybe he'd try making them breakfast.

Bad

Very bad idea.

Smoke was the smell that woke Darlin.

It wasn't enough to worry about a fire, but enough to check what was going on.

Emerging from the room, they stood in the open living room staring at a panicked Asher, trying, rushing a pan of, well, Darlin couldn't tell, but he took it to the sink, turning the Faust on before Darlin could stop him.

“What the fuck, Asher?”

He hadn't realized they had seen that.

He looked and smiled at them.

That damn smile

Everyone always said his smile was his best feature.

They weren't wrong.

Darlin walked into the kitchen, grabbed a towel, and turned the water off.

They opened a window and started fanning the pan.

“Go open more windows.”

They instructed Asher, laughing to themselves. Everyone knows Asher can't cook, so why did he even try?

When Asher returned, Darlin scolded him.

“Unless it's an active fire and not a grease fire. You don't need to put it under water, because now your place is full of even more smoke.”

He listened intently, probably because it was Darlin, which he preferred. Being scolded by Darlin over David any day

“Got it. But what's a grease fire?”

Darlin closed their eyes, needing Second to deal with him.

It was even harder because he was so honest and so cute.

Like a golden retriever

They wondered if maybe his relatives were dog-shifter golden retrievers.

After cleaning up and giving Asher a detailed guide on dealing with various fires, the two head out, first for food, then back to David's. Darlin lived there; it was David's place; Darlin didn't pay anything, and David was pretty cool for that.

They parked in the driveway, and Asher moved to get out, but Darlin grabbed his hand.

“These marks are still way too visible.”

They looked at the passenger mirror.

“Even with the hoodie.”

Worry was written all over their faces.

They couldn't find a solution and were actively getting worse.

Asher put his hand on their shoulder before flipping up the mirror.

“I've got it. I'll distract David; you'll rush to your room and apply some makeup; he'll never know.”

And once again, he smiled

There must be a calming agent in his smile because, with that simple plan, Darlin was calm and ready to face David.

Darlin put their hoodie up while Asher held the fast food bag; David couldn't stand it, and that was the distraction.

The two entered, and David was right at the door, probably about to go out.

Asher walked straight to him, holding the bag out to him.

David tried to talk to Darlin, but they were able to get past him as Asher lightly shoved the bag into David's chest.

“Hey buddy, I got you some breakfast.”

Instantly, David was distracted.

“This is not breakfast, Asher. Not to mention the fact that it's 11 am.”

Asher put on a puzzled face.

“so??”

David took a breath and sighed before answering.

“Breathing is a meal you have in the morning.”

“But it's 11 am before 12, making it the morning.”

David couldn't argue that even though 6 am was his breakfast time.

Asher was still holding the bag.

“Come on, David, I bought you food; the nice thing for you to do is at least put it in the fridge.”

David's stoic face stared at Asher's before he took the bag and walked to the kitchen.

As David did so, Asher's phone buzzed, a message from Darlin that his help was no longer needed.

David came out of the kitchen.

“Ash, I'm headed to the gym if you want to join me.”

“I don't have any plans for the day, so yeah, let's go.”

Then they stood there, both wondering why the other hadn't moved. David figured it out.

“Ash, your car is blocking mine.”

“Oh yeah, don't worry, I'll move it.”

Ash left to move his car as Darlin came back out.

Head toward the kitchen.

David called out to them

“Tank, would you grab me water from the fridge?”

Tank moved to do as he asked.

Opening the fridge, grabbing a bottle, and tossing it to him

“You got it, man. But David, why is there a bag of trash in the fridge?”

David came closer.

“What bag of trash?”

“This one”

They lifted the fast food bag out, the one David just put in there.

“What do you mean, 'a bag of trash?’ Are you making a joke about how bad fast food is?”

Darlin laughs as they open the bag.

“No, David, it's a literal bag of trash.”

Just as David saw the truth in the bag, Asher re-entered the house.

Though David didn't know yet

“Why would Asher tell me it was food?”

Darlin made a few goofy faces for Asher.

“I don't know David. You know, Asher is a weird guy.”

A gasp is what drew David's attention to Asher.

“I am not weird.”

David was already over this and decided he no longer needed an answer.

“Tank, please think that away, Ash, let's go. For the record, Ash, you're the weirdest guy I know.”

Asher defended himself as the two left the house.

Gif Request: VegasPete in I will consume you trailer (x)

OWNED.

Mikey groaned " look at you, your so beautiful riding my cock like a slut you are, my slut" he grunts you found pleasure when he calls you his. Your hands-on his toned abs while you ride him "cum-min-g" He smirks while his hand chokes your throat bringing your face close "did I tell you that you can come?" He whispers "n-nn-no sir" you choked "then keep riding until I tell you so" your eyes started to tear due to the pressure on your throat you keep riding him but the pressure on your throat was unbearable You finally got the courage to undo his hands from your throat. Your hand finally comes up to his hands trying to get his grip to lose his eyes turn dark. "well someone needs to learn a lesson now do they?"You low your hands not wanting to piss him "i-am so-rry sir" you say trying to catch your breath he loosen his grip on your neck giving you air to breathe. You kept riding him his eyes still on you he watches as your tits bounce with your rhythm you can't hold it anymore "please sir I can't hold it anymore please let me cum" you begged he laughs and his hands Roam your body and pinch your nipple hard you hissed due to the pain "I love it when you beg" he brings himself close to you and whispers "cum for me you slut" you release almost immediately your head falls on his shoulder while trying to catch you breathe breathing heavily "thaan-kk you sir" you say. Mikey lifts your face through his hand on your chin "you know I love you right?" You nod while your eyes still not meeting his, you jerk due to the impact you felt on your right cheek "I was talking to you bitch you are supposed to look at me when I'm talking to you" He yells tears stream down your face you "yes sir I--im sorry sir" you choked out while looking into his dark eyes. Now you were trying to hold your tears as hard as you can. His eyes suddenly softened he cups your face gently looking at your puffy eyes now "I don't want to hurt you sweets but you keep disobeying and acting up makes me sad" his voice now soft almost as if he didn't yell a second ago "I love you too, very much" you softly whispered. Satisfied with your reply he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead. "I know," he said while smirking he knows he knows that you've got nobody after all he found you on the streets. Your life is his simple you were his every bit of you was his, he never failed to remind you that every day. You accepted him, you worshiped him he was your everything now and forever.

ps: it's my first time on Tumblr. I hope yall like it I take constructive criticisms please feel free to give me your opinions so I could improve myself. Also feel free to DM if you ever want to talk to anyone. love you :)

Y'all want my banana bread? i nearly choked on it :3

-Random Anon

Not if you choked on it.

kinktober day one: dry humping with bakugou

a/n: AHHH IT’S HERE! this is my second year doing kinktober and i am so fucking incredibly excited for it. this was the month that brought me so many new friends and caused me to read SO many amazing fics and i can only imagine how well this year will go. i’m a wee bit nervous as it’s my first time writing in a long while and definitely my first time writing bakugou in months- let me know what you think! <3 

warnings: dry humping, dirty talk, spitting, hair pulling, choking

tags: @nobody0805​ @dabilove27 @bakugotrashpanda @tomurasprincess @fae-father @xeina @shigarakiisking @engel-hageshii @luxivii @bnhathirstreblogs @babayaga67 @tigerseye375 @kingtamakimurder @keopiis @iambashfulperson @buttressflybarnes @sunsetchan @thehalfdemonicangel @raekah @aupheliathedk @pozhdukem @rinsbigcock @jungkookcankickme @endeavorsimpstuff @irvingka @trafalgar-temptress @keilemlucent​ @imbearlythere @qtgothics @leeswritingworld @briswriting​ @lilacgrave​ @txmxkis​ 

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Promise

here it is! my contribution to the bnharem Baku Collab. I hope you don’t hate it.  Check out the masterlist for some other great Baku fics.

k. bakugou x f!reader

warnings: 18+, idiots to lovers, there was only one bed, pro hero AU swearing (of course) excessive use of the word grumpus, alcohol consumption, jealousy,  unprotected sex, choking, terrible communication skills, mm sacrilege a little bit 

word count: 5.8K

“Hey!”

You felt warm hands shaking your legs to jostle you awake. “Wake up brat, we’re here.” your eyes slowly started to peak open, recognizing the gruff voice.

It was Katsu of course. It was just you two on the private jet aside from the crew. You see, there was a conference on I-Island, every year. And, every year it was a hassle to get Katuski to show up. So, him bumming a ride on your privately owned jet was mostly just a bribe, a means to get him to the conference peacefully. Bakugou Katsuki was your best friend, and you were his, though he’d never say it out loud. This of course, to everyone else that knew him, made him your personal responsibility. It was a load of crap, but you didn’t mind it really.

You yawned, looking out the window of the jet to confirm that you had indeed landed. 

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Nefarious : Yandere!Taekook

Nefarious meaning: wicked or criminal

Summary: You’ve been being followed for months and you decide to take matters into your own hands. What you get is not what you expect: not one, but two men have been following you. And although you’d once seen your phantom protector as maybe a gentleman just making sure you get home every night, you realize that this fantasy couldn’t be farther from the truth. the men who follow you are dangerous, and now you’ve invited them in.

Word Count: 7.4k

Pairing: Yandere!Tae x sub!reader x Yandere!Jungkook

Genre/Rating: 18+, smut, Yandere

Warnings: threesome, double penetration, oral m/f receiving/giving, fingering, overstim, insinuation of murder, marking, biting, choking, gagging, breath play, semi-knife play, spanking, jealousy, obsession, rough sex, cumplay, dirty talk, slight degradation/praising, stalking, Dom!Tae, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!reader. 

A/N: This is a work of fiction, it describes Tae and JK being very obsessive and has Yandere themes such as stalking. Please read at your own risk, this has been a warning.

**********************

You’d caught glimpses of the man a few times: his reflection in a store window as he mirrored you on the other side of the street, staying back a few steps as opposed to parallel with you. You’d seen his lean frame as he moved through the crowd of your university cafeteria, close but not too close. 

At first, you’d hardly noticed him, until one night when you’d been walking home and you’d heard him close behind you, closer than ever before. It had been a cold night, and you hadn’t been in the best part of town. His closeness had made you walk faster, and he’d matched your speed, but as you turned onto your street, your apartment in view, he’d suddenly disappeared like some sort of phantom.

That night, still buzzing from the near encounter, something inside of you had told you he didn’t want to hurt you. He almost gave off a vibe that felt protective, and you’d convinced yourself that he’d been walking closer precisely because it had been a dangerous part of town and dark out. 

After that, you’d kept your eye out for him. And any time you knew he was near, something inside of you felt a little bit warmer. He usually wore a mask, the black fabric covering at least two-thirds of his face, and it had taken you two months to even figure out that’s what was on his face from the brief glimpses you’d had of him.

You wondered when he’d approach you. Wondered if he ever would. Or maybe, he’d just stop, leaving as suddenly as he had appeared. 

After a study session with a friend, you were walking home when she grabbed your arm, “I think someone’s following us.” she whispered in your ear.

“Oh it’s just-” you began to explain, when you realized how odd it would sound. ‘Yeah, that’s just my stalker, he’s been following me for a few months, but I don’t think he’ll hurt us.’ 

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fuck me better (m) | jjk, kth

pairing: jungkook x reader ft. taehyung x reader

summary: jungkook isn’t happy when he finds out he’s eating someone else’s cum out of you // taehyung is tired of seeing you fall for jungkook’s games

genre: smut, pwp, oneshot, slight angst, fwb!au, f2l!au, fuckboy!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook,  fuckbuddy!taehyung college!au

wordcount: 3.1k

warnings: explicit smut, unprotected sex, coercion, manipulation, jealous!jungkook, possessive themes, sloppy seconds, jungkook eats you out but taehyung came inside you first so idk is that cum play, rough sex, major degradation, spanking, choking, jungkook spits on you, breast play, oral, toxic relationship!!!, hate sex kinda, needy!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sweet!taehyung, bigdick!taehyung, praise, taehyungs HANDS. sorry. ehm. sex while intoxicated, mentions of alcohol 

a/n: this is a ~drabble~ from the fuck me forever au. it can be read as a standalone, but makes more sense if you read that so you can understand this jungkook. he’s…something. s/o to this anon for the idea, hope you like it ;)

“Baby…ohh fuck” Tilting your head back, you watched Taehyung’s beautiful, slender hands travel over your trembling chest. His touch was scalding, delicately wrapping his fingers around your throat. Thumbs pressing against your jaw as he looked at you, eyes dark with desire. Sweat painted his forehead as he flipped his hair back, before lowering back to you. Eyelashes brushing against your forehead as his nose nudged against yours.

The room was filled with surreal sighs, desperate moans and the intoxicating scent of sex. The roll of his hips, slow and deep. Your legs snug around his torso, hands combing through his hair, letting him know how much you adored every move he made. 

“You like that?” He growled, baritone voice vibrating against you as he gave a tight thrust, causing the bed beneath you to creak. You loved the feeling of him inside you, his large size was painful but stretched you out so good. You wanted to feel him deeper—wanted him to tear you apart.

“Y-you’re so big” You gasped, words flying out of your mouth before you could stop them. Your mind was numb. Hounded by the pleasure that overwhelmed your every nerve. Taehyung nuzzled into your neck, chuckling slightly at your comment.

“Yeah baby?” The hint of cockiness in his voice made you surge with wetness. He pressed his lips behind your shoulder, a sweet spot for you, causing you to sigh loudly in bliss. He was so incredibly close, but still wanted to feel you even closer. He wanted to be consumed by you—your scent, your body, your everything. 

“You can take it can’t you? So good for me” He sighed, moving his lips behind your ear, kissing you softly as he picked up his pace, chasing a high he was trying so badly to suppress. “You’re gorgeous. So fucking beautiful”

He meant every word, and you could tell. You pursed your lips, holding back the desperate scream you wanted to let out, suffocated by his praise as he fucked into you hard. Your breath hitching every time he pushed you closer and closer to the head of your bed. Making sure you could feel every inch he had to give as he came inside you, filling you to the brim.

Your lips found one another, eyes falling shut as you shared an intimate kiss. Taehyung stilled, pulling away to admire your face “Y/n” He whispered, a small smile on his face. It was still unreal to him. The fact you of all people were beneath him like this. His friends would kill to be in his situation—a fact he was well aware of. Even so, he had no intention to kiss & tell, content with wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

You had been straight with him, you had no intention of starting a relationship. And Taehyung knew exactly why—because you were hung up on a certain good for nothing, insecure fuckboy who you claimed to be your best friend. Jeon Jungkook. He hoped over time he could show you that you deserved so much more. It’s for this reason he fucked you like a lover, despite knowing deep down that to you, he would never be one.

“I-I just can’t even fucking believe that you’re—“

Taehyung’s confession was interrupted by a loud BANG on the door. “Y/n!” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes at the sound of Jungkook’s whiny voice cutting clean through the beautiful tension that had formed between the two of you. “Y/n please open up!”

Taehyung could see the guilt in your eyes as you pushed him off of you, pressing a finger to your lips “Shit. Taehyung, I’m so sorry. Do you mind hiding for a bit? I’ll get him to leave but if he sees you here…” Taehyung wanted to scowl. If he sees me here then what?

“Y/nnn pleaseeee” The banging persisted, and the slur in Jungkook’s voice confirmed Taehyung’s suspicions. The boy was drunk. Of course. “I’m so sorry. You know I am. Please let me in…I love you baby please” Quickly you guided Taehyung into your closet, where he grabbed your wrist, yanking you into his chest so he could leave you with a chaste kiss.

“Don’t” He urged you, hoping—wishing you would just give up on him. “Don’t answer” 

But he knew his request was in vain. “I can’t just leave him there” You threw on an oversized shirt, barely covering your ass before sliding the closet door shut. Your legs trembled, sore still as you made your way to let Jungkook in.

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AGGRESSION   //   SEXUAL  TENSION .

acts  that  could  be  aggressive   //   or  a  little  bit  sexy   //   or  both.                     send  a  symbol  from  your  muse  to  mine.  feel  free  to  combine  actions  or  add  specifics  even  when  it  doesn’t  ask  for  it   !     can  send  non - sexually  as  well.

THREATENING

🔪   //   put  a  knife  to  my  muse’s  throat .

🖐️   //   put  a  hand  around  my  muse’s  throat .

👕   //   slide  a  weapon  up  under  my  muse’s  shirt     (   can  specify   ) .

👔   //   grab  my  muse  by  the  collar   &   pull  them  closer .

🔒   //   lock  my  muse  in  a  room  alone  with  your  muse .

🗩   //   verbally  threaten  my  muse     (   please  specify   ) .

PINNING

🔙   //   push  my  muse  against  a  wall .

📌   //   pin  my  muse’s  wrists  above  their  head .

🔵   //   grab  my  muse  hard  enough  to  leave  a  bruise .

🔑   //   handcuff  my  muse .

➰   //   tie  my  muse  to  a  chair .

⭕   //   restrain  my  muse  with  an  item  of  clothing     (   please  specify   ) .

🚨   //   push  my  muse  to  the  ground   &   straddle  them .

📢   //   tell  my  muse   ‘  stop  squirming   !  ’ .

🔗   //   otherwise  restrain  my  muse     (   please  specify   ) .

LIGHTER

👀   //   grab  my  muse’s  jaw   &   direct  their  gaze  towards  yours .

⚡   //   tug  my  muse’s  hair .

⚠️   //   bite  my  muse     (   can  specify  where   ) .

😏   //   give  my  muse  a  hickey .

✂️   //   run  fingernails  over  my  muse’s  skin   &   scratch  them .

💦   //   cover  my  muse’s  mouth .

DARKER

💋   //   give  my  muse  a  kiss  that  draws  blood .

🗡️   //   cut  my  muse  with  a  knife     (   can  specify  where   ) .

💀   //   kidnap  my  muse .

😶   //   put  a  hand  over  my  muse’s  nose   &   mouth .

💥   //   tighten  something  around  my  muse’s  throat  that  restricts  their  blood - flow  /  oxygen  supply     (   please  specify   ) .

Shimazaki ryo x reader

I'm in love with Mob Psycho 100 and I am so in love with Ryo and Arataka <3333 But this fic is focused on Ryo. I'll try to write a fic with Arataka 😘 Also if the beginning sounds personal its cause it is lol. I literally will sometimes project myself on the reader, sorry haha. Oh yeah MDNI THERE IS NSFW IN THIS!!!

Ryo and I's relationship is not defined but if I had to say it's more like a friends with benefits. We sometimes hang out and chill at each other place and then fuck. It's not more that because Ryo isn't a man made for relationships. He just gets bored of them and find them to wear him down. I'm practically the same so finding him was like a miracle.

Everyone always says they want a friends with benefits no strings attached, but then they end up having feelings. Not me though I don't know why. I used to be obsessed with dating when I was younger. I had a couple long lasting relationships but they never ended well. So maybe that's it...? I don't know or really care I just can't date people, I like having options.

I guess the same is for Ryo, I haven't asked cause its not of my concern. Right now Ryo and I are watching a movie or well I'm watching and he's listening. His hand creeps up my thigh and brushes against my heat. He smirks and I spread my thighs apart so he has easier access. I purposely put on loose short with no underwear just for this. His hand glides up and down over my clothed heat. I bite my lip and lean my head back.

"Naughty girl, no panties? Tsk don't you know I like to keep a pair for the road?" He says still teasing me. "Yeah that's why I didn't wear them, underwear ain't cheap asshole " I stick out my tongue. He laughs and leans on capturing my lips with his. He deepens the kiss and I close my eyes moaning into the kiss. Our tongues twine and dance together and as we part for air salvia follows.

Before I know it Ryo teleports us to my room and we both hurriedly take off our clothes. Ryo cages me with his arms his erection twitches against my stomach. My face and body are hot and I can't help but squirm. "Please Ryo fuck me, I can't wait any longer I need you so bad..." He grins and he grips my thighs and tossed them over his shoulder. His tip presses against me and enters me stretching me out.

My eyes roll back and my jaw slacks, no matter how much we fuck his size still manages to have this affect on me. I grip the sheets as he starts his fast and rough pace. One hand is placed on my neck while the other is on my stomach. He presses on it and feels how deep his dick is inside me. He laughs "Your taking it so well even though my dick is practically in your kidneys" "Yeah well your not the biggest I had" I spit back, I lied he is most definitely the biggest but I like to get under his skin.

His smirk is wiped off and his face is unreadable. He stops fucking me and I look at him with confusion. "Ryo are you-" Ryo then flips me over and still grips my neck but forces his fingers in my mouth. My hands are held behind my back. Drool dribbles from my mouth and any attempt at speaking is quieted by him slamming into me.

All I can do is moan incoherently "Don't you ever fucking lie to me. I know I'm the fucking biggest you've ever taken if not the first" he grunts, he let's go of my neck and I cough but my face is immediately slammed into my bed. His hand slaps my ass and he leans in biting me all over. "Fucking slut trying to be little me"

My face is stained with tears and my cheeks and red and puffy. I can't think anymore all I can do is moan. "What aint got nothing to say anymore? That's- what- I- thought-" with four more thrusts his seed shoots inside me and he buries himself inside. I soon came after him and my whole body shook. His breathing was hot and heavy in my ear. I struggled to gain my breathe and he flipped me over. "The night has just begun~" he grinned

Dark Currents (Intoxicating Fear Fanfic)

I: Dark Currents

@chaotic-orphan

TW: choking, strangling, strangulation, stalking, drugging, intimate whumper, intimidating whumper, disoriented whumpee.

The night was a deep blanket of silence as Kit walked home, the distant sounds of the city fading behind him. After a gruelling shift at the hero tower, fatigue clung to him like a shadow. The dark alleyway ahead felt especially foreboding, its walls lined with graffiti that whispered stories of forgotten souls. Streetlights flickered, casting unsettling shadows that danced across the damp pavement, creating an eerie mosaic of light and dark.

Just as Kit turned a corner, a figure lunged from the depths of the shadows—Ambrose.

Before Kit could react, Ambrose tackled him to the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He gasped as Ambrose’s hands tightened around his throat, panic surging within him like a tidal wave. The chill of the concrete seeped into his skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of his rising fear.

"You thought you could escape me?" Ambrose’s voice was cold, filled with a twisted satisfaction that sent shivers down Kit’s spine.

"Let me go!" Kit shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. He strained to summon his electric abilities, but Ambrose’s grip was like iron, dulling his spark, leaving him feeling powerless.

Ambrose leaned closer, a cruel smile curling his lips, the flickering streetlight illuminating his features in a sinister glow. "You’re not in control here."

Kit’s heart raced as he twisted beneath Ambrose, trying to break free. With a sudden burst of strength, he managed to throw Ambrose off balance, but it was temporary. Ambrose was on him again, pinning him down, his hands constricting around Kit’s throat like a vice, the world narrowing to a painful focus.

"Why did you come back?" Kit gasped, struggling for air.

"Because you need to come with me," Ambrose replied, his tone unyielding, as if he were delivering a decree. "You belong with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Kit’s mind raced, memories flashing like lightning. The last time he had seen Ambrose, it had been under vastly different circumstances—filled with a familial solidarity, occasional laughter echoing in the air, not this violent chaos.

In his mind's eye, Kit recalled Ambrose and Jude, silhouetted against the city lights, locked in a passionate kiss, their joy stark against the backdrop of a darkening sky. They had looked so carefree, so oblivious to the storm brewing around them.

It was just a rumour, Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit's thoughts, a haunting refrain. Jude and I... it meant nothing.

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Kit managed to shove Ambrose off him, scrambling to his feet. But Ambrose quickly recovered, grabbing Kit’s arm and pulling him close again, the smell of sweat and cologne enveloping Kit in a dizzying haze.

"Let’s talk," Ambrose said, his grip still firm, the intensity of his gaze unyielding.

Reluctantly, Kit followed, feeling the tension crackle in the air between them like static electricity. They walked to a nearby bar, its neon sign flickering ominously, casting a ghostly glow on the cracked pavement. Inside, the atmosphere felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and the scent of stale beer mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke.

Max, the bar owner, greeted them with a nod, his weathered face a map of years spent in the dim light. "What’ll it be?"

"Two shots of whiskey," Ambrose ordered, his tone lacking warmth, as if he were merely playing a role in a dark theatre.

As they settled onto the bar stools, the faux leather cracked beneath them, and Kit couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him like a second skin. "What about Jude?" he pressed, muted anger flaring again, the question like a lit fuse.

Ambrose waved a dismissive hand, irritation flickering across his features. "Forget him. We have more pressing matters."

The whiskey arrived, amber liquid glinting under the low light, and they downed the shots, the burn cutting through the tension like a knife. Ambrose leaned in closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "You still don’t understand, do you? You’re meant for more than this life."

Kit narrowed his eyes, anger bubbling beneath the surface, a tempest ready to erupt. "You think you can just show up and demand I leave everything behind?"

Ambrose’s gaze was intense, as if he were peering into Kit’s very soul. "This place is holding you back," he replied. "You need to step into the light with me."

Kit felt the weight of Ambrose's words, but the alcohol was dulling his resolve, making the room sway slightly.

Unbeknownst to Kit, Ambrose had slipped something into his drink. After another sip, a wave of dizziness washed over him, the world spinning around him like a carousel gone awry.

"What did you do?" he slurred, struggling to stay upright, the edges of his vision blurring.

"Just a little something to help you relax," Ambrose said casually, a predatory glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down Kit’s spine.

Kit’s strength faded, and he felt the ghost of Ambrose’s hand tighten around his throat again, the imaginary pressure making it hard to breathe, suffocating him with fear.

"Why are you doing this?" Kit gasped, panic rising like bile.

"Because I need you to understand," Ambrose said, his tone chilling, devoid of warmth. "You’re mine."

As they stumbled back to Kit's apartment, Ambrose’s presence loomed over him like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. Inside, Ambrose closed the door with a slow, deliberate motion, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

"This isn’t over," Kit whispered, fear and anger churning in his chest like a storm at sea.

Ambrose stepped closer, his expression shifting to something darker, more primal. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" Kit echoed, scepticism lacing his voice, as if he were trying to make sense of a riddle with no answer.

Ambrose held his gaze, eyes intense and fierce. "I didn’t abandon you. I had my reasons, but now I’m back for you."

Kit’s heart raced, caught between anger and the flicker of something darker, something he didn’t want to acknowledge. "You think it’s that simple?"

The pressure around his throat returned, tightening just enough to send panic coursing through him like a wildfire. "You need to listen," Ambrose commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"You can’t just expect me to forgive you," Kit managed to say, breathless, the words escaping in a whine.

"I came back for you," Ambrose insisted, his grip still firm, unyielding. "You have to understand."

Kit felt the pressure building, the edges of his vision blurring as darkness threatened to creep in. "You’re hurting me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Ambrose released him slightly, but his eyes remained locked on Kit’s, a predatory intensity that made Kit’s pulse race. "I won’t let you go that easily."

"What do you want from me?" Kit managed, desperation creeping into his voice, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"I want you by my side," Ambrose replied, voice low and menacing, each word dripping with a power that was both alluring and terrifying. "But first, you need to know what you’re getting into."

Kit glared at Ambrose, heart racing, feeling trapped. "This isn’t love—or whatever you think this is. You’re just trying to control me."

Ambrose stepped closer, the tension between them palpable, electric. "I’m trying to save you. You don’t see it yet, but I’m the only one who can."

"I can take care of myself!" Kit shouted, his anger finally boiling over, a defiant spark igniting in his chest.

With a swift movement, Ambrose seized Kit again, his grip tightening until Kit felt the world closing in around him, darkness threatening to swallow him whole. "You’ll understand," Ambrose said, voice cold and unyielding.

Just as Kit felt he might pass out, Ambrose released him, stepping back, breathing heavily, as if he were wrestling with his own demons. "I want you back, Kit. But you need to accept that I won’t let you go."

Kit staggered, gasping for air, the fear mingling with something else he couldn’t quite place, an unsettling mix of dread and yearning. "What have you done?"

Ambrose’s expression turned serious, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "I’m not playing games. This is about survival."

As dawn broke, pale light filtering through the grimy window, Kit knew he had to confront Ambrose and figure out what he truly wanted. The weight of the night pressed down on him, suffocating yet exhilarating, but he couldn’t ignore the twisted bond that kept pulling them together.

This was only the beginning, and Kit had no idea where it would lead them. The struggle for control would continue, but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t back down that easily.

Continued here

🙏bottom sammy🙏

🙏dean strangles sammy🙏

🙏dean grabs sammy by the hair🙏

🙏dean and sammy have cannibalistic thoughts about each other🙏

🙏dean calls sammy his bitch🙏

sorry.

Iwaizumi x f!reader; cheater!Oikawa x f!reader

Word count: 6,4k

Category: Angst, Smut

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, sex, some choking, slapping and mentions of violence (reader basically asks to be hurt), daddy kink (not ddlg), scummy Oikawa being an asshole, kind of toxic Iwaizumi, uh, that’s about it? Dm me if I missed anything.

Summary: Having your heart broken by Oikawa Tooru is unexpectedly hard, but it’s even harder to let yourself fall for someone new.

Songs that inspired this: “Sparks” by Coldplay, “Song for a guilty sadist” by Crywank and “Skinny love” by Bon Iver 

Huge thanks to @velvet-kissesss for editing this and always being the first to read my stories! <3

Oikawa Tooru is like the sun. His smile is as bright as a summer day, his gaze as cold as ice, but he‘s still your sun. Or he used to be. Clouds of doubt that came in the form of suspicious text messages and excuses clouded his brightness and warmth that never really cleared away. 

He‘s busy busy busy. You‘re always wasting his time, you‘re always annoying him with your silly messages, asking- no, begging for his time; which you know you won‘t get. Your eyes and heart are completely filled with Tooru, your sun.

Even his friends notice the odd behaviour of their former captain yet they mask their concerns for your wellbeing with jokes and laughs once you stop showing up to their weekly dinners. 

The storm started when you overheard the conversation you weren‘t supposed to hear. It‘s a rare occasion to be home at the same time as Tooru, even in your shared apartment, your boyfriend so kindly paid for (You offered to pay rent, but even if he would‘ve accepted your offer, a broke college student would never be able to afford it). His voice sounded slightly annoyed, the notes barely there, but from the time you spent together you could clearly tell he was having an argument. 

“I’m not fooling around. I don’t know what to do,” 

You couldn’t tell what the argument was about, but you pressed yourself against the living room wall that divided the two rooms. Eavesdropping wasn’t good, but you were worried for Tooru. He was never home, never shared his worries and now he was getting into arguments. Your anxiety was rising. What if something was going on? 

“I’m not leading her on, you don’t know what you’re talking about! The only girl you’ve ever dated left you before college started. Adult relationships are so much harder,” 

There was only silence for a moment that seemed to stretch out into infinity. 

“I’m thinking about ending things. I think… I’m almost sure I’m falling out of love with her,”

Everything went silent until then the ringing in your ears took everything away. Your head was spinning, eyes unable to focus on anything, lungs suddenly filled with water and throat with sand. Empty. Empty, so painfully empty but full at the same time. You were the ‘her’ of the conversation. You were the girl Tooru was falling out of love with. 

You didn’t feel yourself falling onto your knees. You didn’t hear the loud thud, you didn’t even notice how cold the floor was until your silent bubble was popped by Tooru’s voice. 

“Shit, Y/N!”

His arm on your shoulder felt so heavy. Too heavy, the water filling your lungs seemed to spill out of your eyes, tears running down your face. Oikawa kneeled before you, pulling you into him, letting you bury your face into his sweatshirt that used to smell like your perfume but now smelled of something unfamiliar and unwelcoming, his hand in your hair stung colder than ice. 

He lets you cry, lets you grip him so hard, as if you think that letting go would be deadly and lets you whisper quiet “You don’t love me’s” until your throat becomes sore. 

“You heard everything,” it wasn’t a question, rather a statement. His hand reached your back, rubbing in gentle circles but it was anything but calming. You felt as if you couldn’t let go because as soon as you did, Tooru would disappear. Your sun would never shine anymore. 

“Don’t leave me, Tooru. Don’t leave me, please.”

His eyes watch your form, so defeated in his arms. 

“I won’t.”

You’ve been together for such a long time, you’ve been there through the highs and lows, always cheering him on, always there to greet him with a smile after a long, stressful day, always so willing to do anything to make him feel better even if your late night love-making ended in being unable to walk the next day and having to conceal the finger-shaped bruises left on your frail neck. Maybe it’s the stress of trying to balance college and volleyball. Maybe it’s the way seeing your face and feeling your gentle touch doesn’t put a smile on his face anymore. 

You at least deserve another chance. Another chance before he’s sure he fell out of love, even if he knows he has. 

“Y/N, I won’t leave you, I won’t,” he repeats like a mantra, like he wants his words to fill you full, like he wants you to believe it; even if he himself won’t. 

You don’t remember being carried to the bed, you don’t remember Tooru covering you in a soft, fluffy blanket but he’s still there when you wake up, with your back pressed against his chest, his long arms draped over you and his head resting against your shoulder. 

It's idle, it’s painfully normal that you can almost pretend nothing bad ever happened, that he still loves you the same way he did before. You can almost feel the brightness and warmth of the sun after being lost in the dark for so long.

The next few weeks go by fast and Oikawa keeps his promise. You never feel lonely, constant fancy dates that feel foreign after such a long time and the awkward smiles of his friends when he starts bringing you with him again. 

It almost feels too good to be true. And it is, as you learn when you return from your shitty part-time job earlier than usual. 

Don’t fly too close to the sun or you will burn. And you were burnt. Like Icarus, the wax of your wings melted and your false feelings of security you held onto are shattered into tiny pieces, never to be collected by anyone. 

He’s in the arms of another woman, another pair of lips is kissing away at his skin, tainting him, the sight making you dizzy when you can’t take your eyes off of their tangled bodies.

The woman notices you first, yelping and pulling the covers to save any dignity she has left. Oikawa can’t look up. He’s physically sick, any minute and he’ll throw up. Is he mad because you showed up early or is he disgusted by himself? The feelings mix into a dangerous combination and he’s unable to say anything. 

Only when you open your mouth do the apologies begin pouring out of his mouth, the girl beside him long forgotten as he climbs out of bed, pulls his sweatpants on and chases you into your shared bedroom. 

He catches your wrist and tries to tug you closer when you reach for anything you can. Your charger, a few clothing items and your favorite perfume he gifted you, tossed carelessly into a bag and all that’s left is the sorrow in your eyes.

He wants- no, he needs you to be mad, but as tears flow down his face he can’t help but shout at you, grab you by your shoulders and violently shake you until you plead to him to let you go, until there’s fear mixing in with the tears in your eyes. 

After he releases his iron grip, you storm off. All there’s left is the bruises starting to bloom on your skin and the voice of another woman. 

Oikawa throws up soon after that. 

***

Your phone is overwhelmed with notifications from missed calls and messages, but you run until your legs are sore and your lungs are burning. The bag in your hand is the only thing still grounding you to this world while your tears mix with the pouring rain as you fall on the cold, slimy sidewalk once again; your tights ripped and dirty. 

You reach for the door already shaking and even more pathetic-looking than before. The doorbell rings a silly melody and you consider walking away before you make a fool out of yourself, but you don’t have the time to re-think that decision when the door swings open, a slightly annoyed looking Iwaizumi standing before you.

His scowl drops as soon as he sees it’s you and his features form a worried expression when he takes in the state that you’re in. 

“Y/N, what- What the fuck happened?” he doesn’t wait for your answer, already ushering you inside as the warmth of his home seeps into your tired, frozen body. 

“I-“ 

He guides you to the living room immediately before turning up the heat and sitting you down on a couch, before sitting beside you.

You don’t dare look at him. 

“Y/N, tell me what happened.” 

He’s worried and you shrink into yourself, the feeling of guilt unbearable. You’re not worth the worry.

“Oikawa he…I found him having sex with another woman.” 

The words come out fast, like ripping off a band-aid. Iwaizumi frowns, his lips part in disbelief. Oikawa told him he was falling out of love with you, but… cheating on you in your own home was a whole ‘nother thing. 

Iwaizumi didn’t know if his face showed any obvious disgust or anger, but your hands started shaking. 

“Should I go?” your eyes find his, fluttering shut to hide the glossiness, “Iwaizumi, tell me if you need me to go. I know that Oikawa is your friend and that I’m just some girl he dated but I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t know who else to call,” 

He can feel your uncertainty and stress so he does the first thing that comes to his mind; gently grabs your hands, flinching when he finds them ice-cold. 

“First of all, you’re not just some girl, I have known you since our third year of high school. I’m your friend as much as I’m Oikawa’s. And I won’t let you go anywhere, not in the state you’re in.” 

You stare at him in disbelief, hands still shaking. 

“Yeah, Iwa, we’re besties for life,“ your voice breaks as you try to make a joke. 

You can’t help but burst into tears again. Pathetic, fucking pathetic and annoying. Your thoughts run wild, trying to find a reason why Tooru did this to you.

Iwaizumi pulls you into a tight hug while you’re left with your arms awkwardly hanging limp by your sides, your tears and snot soiling his shirt. 

“Listen, you’re cold and your clothes are wet. How about you go take a shower while I make you something to eat? Then we can talk more about it, if you want to. But you will catch a cold staying in those wet clothes.”

The kindness is unexpected. You knew that the dark-haired man never lacked compassion, but he was so painfully kind. Too kind.

“Iwaizumi- It’s too much. I-“ 

He doesn’t let you finish, already letting you go to bring you a set of fluffy, fresh towels. 

“It’s what any friend would do. Please listen to me, I don’t want you to get sick. Please.”

There’s too much “please’s” in that sentence, but you do as he asks and let him guide you into the bathroom, pretending to listen when he tells you something about using any shampoo and shower gel you want.

And then he leaves you alone. Painfully alone again.

You undress, the wet clothes falling to the floor. Your biceps have handprints imprinted on them and you can’t stand to look at yourself anymore as you climb into the huge bathtub. 

The water is boiling and it feels like your skin is going to peel off as you trace patterns on your tired body, trying to burn Tooru’s touch away; but no water could ever be hotter than the sun. 

You don’t know how you find the strength to wash your hair, but the musky, citrusy smell of Iwaizumi’s shampoo untangles the knots in your hair, keeping your head empty. Or, as empty as it can be.

You don’t know how much time goes by but you’re sitting down with your back against the shower wall when a knock comes. 

“Y/N? I don’t want to bother you and you can take your time, but I went through your bag- I- I uh wanted to find you some clothes, didn’t mean to snoop around. But- Uh, but you don’t have any warmer clothes packed so I brought you some of mine. I’ll leave them by the door.” 

There’s no footsteps and you realize he’s waiting for an answer. Is he worried? Afraid you’ll drown yourself in his shower? A soft laugh slips past your lips. 

“Okay.” your voice sounds like it doesn’t belong to you; too distant and unrecognizable. 

The footsteps fade away and you decide to not feed into Iwa’s fears as you step out of the shower, drying yourself off. 

Wrapped in a towel, you open the door and grab the pile of clothes Iwa has left. There’s a pair of panties and a bra from your bag, then a pair of sweatpants and a huge hoodie you don’t recognize so they must be Iwaizumi’s.

Getting dressed feels like a chore. Your arms are heavy and your legs feel like they’re made out of wood. Iwaizumi’s clothes smell just like him, musky and citrusy, erasing the smell of sex that haunted you since you stormed out of your home.

The clothes fit you weirdly but you can’t complain, because they’re warm and comforting.

An aroma coming from the kitchen almost makes you dizzy again and you realize that you haven’t eaten today. 

“Sit down,” suggests Iwaizumi, as soon as you step into the kitchen, “I made ramen. It’s not anything fancy, but I didn’t do any grocery shopping recently. We, uh, I could order you take-out if you’d like that more?”

You hop onto one of the comfortable chairs and muster a smile. 

“Iwa, it’s fine, ramen is fine.”

That seems to calm his concerns, even if for a little bit. You eat in silence. He seems to observe you, blushing as soon as you catch his glance, but you don’t have the energy to ask him anything. 

You want to help him wash the dishes, the guilt of him being so kind and you not being able to do anything in return, but he just asks you to sit down, assuring that he’s got this.

He stands before you after putting the dishes away and once again grabs your hands. You don’t know if it’s to comfort you or because he doesn’t know what to do, but his hands are cold and unfamiliar; though his touch isn’t unpleasant or unwelcome. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You manage to shake your head, letting it fall into his chest. The position is awkward, but one of his hands almost automatically begins massaging your back in slow motions. 

“Ok, we will not then. Makki- uh, Makki said that you liked watching ‘Howl’s moving castle’?”

You lift your eyes, raising an eyebrow at the brunette’s statement. 

“Makki remembers stuff like that?”

Iwa lets out a dry laugh, as if trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

“He said you made him watch it with you twice.”

A ghost of a smile graces your lips. 

“No one else would, so Makki was my only option. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy it. I even heard him talking to Mattsun about it.”

It seems like your mind wanders off for a second. ‘Good’, Iwa thinks. 

“Do you want to watch it right now? I can bring you a blanket and like, snacks or something? Or you can go to sleep if you’re tired, I already made the bed.”

You’re lost in your thoughts for a moment and then your gaze meets the former vice-captain’s olive eyes again. 

“Can we um, can we actually watch ‘Jurassic park’ instead?” you ask, uncertain. 

“Yeah, of course we can,”

A good hour passes and you’re halfway into the movie, hidden almost completely under the warm blanket, when Iwaizumi turns his face away from the TV to focus it on you. His slightly chapped lips part, as if he couldn’t voice his thoughts. 

“Everything okay?” you ask, turning your attention away from the blood-thirsty dinosaurs chasing a group of people. 

“Why did you pick this movie?”

You feel heat flood your cheeks, palming the material of the blanket.

“It’s one of Tooru’s favorites. He likes watching dumb dinosaurs and even dumber people.”

Your answer is quiet, but Iwaizumi knew the answer even before the words left your mouth, he only needed you to confirm it. How does watching a movie that the ‘person who cheated on you’ liked could bring you comfort?

“I know it’s stupid and God, um, I probably look pathetic right now and all but,” you pause to take a deep breath, tears threatening to spill all over again, “If I watch it closely enough, I can almost convince myself that everything’s like before. That we’re watching a movie with you and Tooru and he just left to get a drink.”

Soft cries that you fail to silence leave your lips as Iwaizumi pulls you closer, not resisting enough to look at you so hurt and defeated. It’s probably weird to hug you as much as he did today, but you don’t seem to mind, burying your head into his shoulder and crying away. He’s not good with words;  the complete opposite of Oikawa, who makes small talk and comforting words look effortless. Physical comfort is his only way Iwauzumi can show that he truly cares. 

It’s a good half an hour before you’re asleep in his arms, the movie long-forgotten. Iwaizumi’s eyes take in your form. You poor thing, Iwa didn’t really know how to help you or take your pain away besides taking care of you the best he could. 

He reaches for his phone on the edge of the sofa, wanting to check the time and probably carry you to the bed but he finds tons of notifications still ongoing. They’re all either from Oikawa or the groupchat of the former third years. 

He doesn’t bother responding to Oikawa, opting to read the groupchat. He can’t care enough to read all the messages they’ve exchanged while he was gone so he scrolls a good bit. 

Shittykawa: fuck, you really don’t know where she is?

Makki: for the 10th time, we tried calling her friends. 

Makki: none of them know, how do you expect us to know?

Shittykawa: just fuck

Shittykawa: shit, this is so bad. What if something bad happened to her?

Mattsun: Yeah? Something like her boyfriend cheating on her?

Mattsun: Oh wait :D

Makki: mattsun, now’s not the time

Makki: oikawa you fucked up and I want to personally beat you up, but blowing up the groupchat won’t help you find Y/N

Makki: take a breather, calm down. I’m sure she just went to some friend we don’t know or something

Shittykawa: I’ll try calling her

Iwaizumi scowls, fingers typing out a fast response.

Iwa-chan!!: don’t

Matssun: Iwa? Wtf 

Iwa-chan!!: she’s at my place

Iwa-chan!!: she’s safe and asleep, just finished crying her eyes out

Shittykawa: what the actual fuck

Shittykawa: I’ve been calling fucking everyone and NOW you decide to tell me she’s at yours?

Makki: why is she at yours tho? 

Mattsun: Yeah, would’ve guessed she went to Mina’s or smth

Iwa-chan!!: well im her friend too so

Makki: yeah, it’s just weird

Mattsun: She also could’ve went to ours lol

Makki: good thing she’s at Iwa’s

Makki: I couldn’t handle another marathon of fucking studio Ghibli movies

Mattsun: Where’s Oikawa tho? 

Shittykawa: omw to Iwa’s

Iwa-chan!!: wtf no

Shittykawa: I’m taking her home

Mattsun: Yeah, probably not the best idea

Iwa-chan!!: she just fucking cried because of you, you think she wants to see you

Makki: you should give Y/N space, Oikawa

Makki: I doubt she wants to see you rn

Shittykawa: don’t care

Shittykawa: open the door Iwa

Iwa grunted, gently moving you away from his shoulder and slightly increasing the sound of the movie, not wanting to wake you up when the inevitable screaming match between him and Oikawa breaks out. 

Makki: wanna bet ¥1000 that Iwa at least slaps Oikawa?

Mattsun: Nah, I bet ¥2000 that they get into a screaming match and wake Y/N up 

Iwa puts his phone down, not bothering to read any more incoming messages and moving to open his door. He doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to look his best friend of so many years into eyes. Doesn’t dare wonder what will happen when you wake up and see Oikawa here.

Despite so many reasons to not open his door, his arm automatically reaches for the handle and swings it open. 

Oikawa stands there, looking like a ghost in the pale moonlight. His features seem blurry in the light, warm brown eyes now cold as ice. He pushes past Iwa, uninvited and slams the door shut, eyes searching for any sign of you, as if you’re just going to appear out of nowhere. One of Iwa’s hands clutches Oikawa’s shirt sleeve and holds it tight.

“She’s sleeping, don’t you dare go and fucking wake her up after the day she’s had,” grunts Iwa, dragging his best friend to the kitchen. Despite being there so many times before, today Oikawa seems out of place. 

“I’m taking her home,” states Oikawa, once again. 

“No, you’re not,” retorts the dark-haired man, “Sit the fuck down and let’s talk.”

Oikawa begrudgingly pulls out a chair and sits down. They’re looking at each other for a moment, not daring to break the silence. It almost feels like everything is okay, for a moment, like nothing happened, like it’s another quiet evening spent talking at Iwa’s house. If Oikawa concentrates hard enough he can almost imagine hearing your’s and Makki’s banter over the movie choice for tonight and Mattsun chuckling. Almost. 

“What the hell were you thinking? I thought everything was going okay,” Iwa tries to ask calmly, but the way he talks through his gritted teeth alarms Oikawa that they’re not about to have a quiet, calm conversation. 

“I wasn’t thinking. Y/N wasn’t meant to walk in.”

“So you planned to cheat on her and just go on with your life, God I-“ Iwa stops to take a deep breath. He knows he needs to keep himself level-headed but it’s so fucking hard, “When you told me that you’re falling out of love I was hoping everything would turn out okay. Even if not, I thought you’ll just break up with her, not… Not that,”

Oikawa looks lost. His eyes trace the coffee mugs on the table, then reach the colorful rag near the sink and then travel back to Iwaizumi. Hajime knows that his friend is looking just above his eyes, avoiding the judgemental gaze. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” the former captain’s voice is merely a whisper, the confidence it always carries gone. 

Iwa sees the way Oikawa is suffering, yet he cannot find it in himself to feel sorry for the former captain. The complete and utter selfishness of his actions; disgusting. 

“Get out and sleep it off. Let her rest, that’s the best you can do.” 

“I want to see her, to apologise, to-“

“Would you want to hear apologies from your partner, who you just caught cheating on you?” Oikawa’s face drops even more, if possible. A frown takes its place on his guilt-ridden features, a bunch of different thoughts making it hard to focus.

“I fucked up- I,” Oikawa’s searching for words, but can’t seem to find any, “There’s no coming back from this, is there?”

Iwa looks up. Seeing Oikawa in so much pain almost makes him physically ill. He feels conflicted. He wants to comfort his best friend, tell him that everything will be okay, that this situation has a solution, but Iwaizumi has never been a good liar. The former vice-captain manages to nod and they sit in silence until there’s footsteps. 

Oikawa scrambles to stand up, already at the kitchen entrance before Hajime manages to catch him. It’s like their conversation flies out of Oikawa’s head — he’s trapping you in a tight hug, whispering promises and apologies, while you just helplessly stare at Iwa.

“Let me go, Oikawa,” you mutter, voice completely powerless and void of any emotion. The usage of his surname sends a shiver down Tooru’s spine. Small details begin to fall into place – your red, puffy eyes, the way you hold yourself like you just want to hide and the fact that you’re wearing his best friend’s clothes. You smell like Iwaizumi and that finally snaps Oikawa out of his trance. He lets you go, “If you have any respect left for me and my feelings, please leave”. 

You say the sentence with such exhaustion that it seems like it’s physically hard for you to speak. 

“I’m gonna leave, alright?” He leans a bit, so that you can look straight into his eyes. It seems like he has been crying too. You catch Iwaizumi’s gaze in your peripheral vision, “But please know that I’ll be waiting for you to come back, okay? 

Your eyes wander away and he abruptly grabs your shoulders. You notice Iwa tensing up. 

“I know you’re too smart to listen to my apologies, but please consider it, okay? I know you love me, Y/N, so think about it. I’ll come pick you up anytime, alright?” 

You manage a nod and just like that – Oikawa is gone, a quick goodbye to Iwaizumi and he’s out the door.  It hurts, hurts so fucking much. A moment of enlightenment then complete darkness again.

“Y/N…” Iwa is careful when he hugs you, like he’s afraid to hurt you. You step away so that you can look into his eyes. Dark green mixed with olive and brown tones seems to magically reel you in. You just want the pain to go away, even if for a moment. You’re so incredibly close to him and you can’t resist – your lips connect and you close your eyes. Iwaizumi doesn’t seem shocked, and even if he is, he instantly kisses you back. 

His lips are slightly chapped and his hands explore your body carefully – every move and touch thought through. 

He pulls away for a moment and your arms instantly reach to pull him closer, to go back to the state with no thoughts and problems – just pure passion, kisses filled with sadness and longing. 

“Do you really want this?” he murmurs, almost into your lips, “Do you really want me or am I just a temporary replacement you can imagine Oikawa’s face on?”

He can read people so well, even if it doesn’t seem so. There’s nothing else besides physical affection and a long-lasting friendship. You trust him, you trust him to take the pain away, to make you forget your sun. 

“I want you to take the pain away,” you answer him and your lips meet once again, “Please, Ha-ji-me,” you say his name in between kisses and Iwaizumi curses himself. 

He’s an awful person and an even worse friend – leading, no, dragging you into his icy cold bed, when he should be comforting you, kissing away at your neck and quickly undressing you instead of calling Oikawa to come up with a way to fix this mess. He can’t help it, he can’t help himself from marking your pretty tits up when he’s wanted you since third year in high school, since you were utterly and completely Oikawa’s. 

Having something so forbidden is exciting and Iwa knows that he can still back out, can still stay a good friend to Tooru, but why not just give him a taste of his own medicine? God, his moral compass is all fucked up. 

His fingers softly massage your clit until they dip lower, slowly and softly fingering you while his thumb plays with your clit. He swallows up your sweet moans and mewls within his mouth, kissing you roughly and full of passion.

“Good girl,” he mutters, leaving yet another mark on your neck, the possessive side of him enjoying the already visible bruises that litter your upper body. 

You whine when he thrusts particularly hard, hitting the spot that almost makes you instantly cream around his fingers.

“D-don’t be gentle, okay? I’m not gonna break,” you manage to say in between moans, “I want you to cause me physical pain, yeah? O-oh- so t-that I can forget why It’s hurting so much,”

Iwa’s brain seems empty. On one hand, he should be comforting you, not hurting you, but on the other hand, how can he say no when you look up at him, utter and complete sadness clouding your teary eyes, short pants slipping past your plush lips. 

“You want me to make it hurt?” he chuckles, one huge hand enclosing around your neck with the other still inside you, grinning when you lean into his cold hand’s touch, desperate to be ruined, “Okay, I’ll do that.”

Iwa’s not a sadist in bed, most of the time, but you asked him to make you forget. And to be honest, he really wants you to forget. How euphoric would it be if that fucked-out look would be reserved for him only? 

“A-ah, can I come, please?” you ask, hardly able to talk, pupils dilating, hands trembling and reaching to grab his snow-white sheets, looking for something to hold onto. 

“Good girl, such a good girl asking for permission,” he mumbles and your eyes light up, but then the hand on your neck squeezes harder and you’re left with your mouth agape, watching Iwaizumi’s delighted face as he fingers you into completion, “You have to ask nicely if you want to cum. What did you used to call Oikawa?

His fingers slow to an agonizing pace and you let out a groan in frustration. Iwa wonders if he’s crossed a line with his questions, but all his worries are calmed down, when your eyes sparkle with fresh tears and you manage to sob out a frantic “Please, daddy, please, can I cum?” as if you’re afraid the brunette will take away your pleasure. 

“Cum” he orders, high on the power you basically handed to him without any resistance. And then he watches you come undone on his fingers, your face filled with ecstasy as you keen and cream around his fingers.

Iwaizumi gives you a moment to get yourself together and breathe as he moves his hand away, but after that he’s expectantly shoving his fingers with your juices towards your face and beams when you suck his fingers clean; even without him asking. 

He strokes your cheek and pulls out his pulsing cock out of his boxers. He’s so impossibly hard and he just can’t wait to be in you, feeling the heat of your tight walls on his dick. 

You look down and your eyes become as wide as saucers – he’s no longer than Oikawa, but definitely thicker, oh you just know you’ll have trouble walking the next day. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, baby,” he chuckled, “Let daddy take care of you.”

There’s thoughts rattling through your head for a moment, but then you give in and nod – still not able to completely think after a mind-numbing orgasm. 

Iwaizumi lines himself up with your creaming hole and then pushes in. You mewl and keen, but he keeps going, swallowing all the noises with comforting kisses, knowing that If you’d really wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him so. Inch after inch and he’s finally bottomed out – your pelvises rubbing together. 

“I’m gonna move now, yeah? Pretty girl,” he can’t help but praise you – so pretty, all submissive and blissed-out just for him.

Iwaizumi’s thrusts are hard and fast – it seems like he wants to engrave the shape of his cock into your tight walls and his name into your fuzzy, pleasure-filled brain.

“Daddy-“ you whine, “So good, feels mmhm- feels so goo-good!” you scream, biting at his neck, making the brunette suck in a harsh breath. 

“Yeah? You’re gonna be my good girl after this, huh?”

You can’t focus your thoughts to answer – the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls, the way his muscles are flexing when he grabs your hips, the way he smells, the-

Iwaizumi slaps you. Not hard, but hard enough to get your attention and for pain to begin blooming in your cheek. 

“Daddy asked you a question. I expect you to answer, honey.” His green eyes are darkened with lust, pet name condescending. 

“Y-yeah, gonna be your good girl, daddy,” you pant, breath coming out in short puffs.

From your expression and the way you’re clenching down on him, he can feel that you’re close.

“You on birth control?” Iwa asks, not completely lost in pleasure, still able to think, but fuck is the thought of coming in you hot.

“Y-yeah,” you cry out, “Cum inside me, yo-you can cum inside me,”

That’s all it takes. His vision flashes, strong arms trembling and squeezing your hips even harder and then he paints your walls white. You come soon after – a little stimulation to the clit and you’re coming on his softening dick. 

You stay there for a few moments, both breathing and collecting yourselves. Iwa falls to your side, pulling you close to him, tucking your head under his chin, your hot breath tickling his neck.

“Thanks,” you manage to say, before blacking out. It seems like today’s events really tired you out. Hajime doesn’t mind. He could get used to this. Used to you in his bed, used to you being completely his. He couldn’t get used to the guilt though. He stays up, lost in thought, until first rays of liquid gold begin leaking through the curtains.

***

Iwaizumi picks up your things from your’s and Oikawa’s place. You’re miserable yet again – asking Iwaizumi to do it for you through hiccupping sobs. 

His best friend of many years has your bags ready, your shared apartment weirdly empty, cold and unwelcoming without your things. 

“So she’s really not coming back,” Oikawa mutters. He looks even more miserable than you; it’s fucking depressing and the guilt comes back stronger than ever. Fuck.

“Well you can’t blame Y/N. You cheated,” Iwa retorts, tone colder and harsher than he intended. 

“Yeah, that,” Tooru laughs, a noise so empty and pathetic that his best friend cringes, “Does she have a place to stay?” 

“She’s staying at mine’s” 

“You’re fucking, aren’t you?” Oikawa chuckled and Iwaizumi froze, “Figured. I have no reason to be mad at you, Iwa, but I fucking am. Still feels like… She’s mine, you know? And I really wanna fucking beat you up for touching what’s mine, but I’m not going to do that,”

Iwa nods. His best friend was always too good at reading people. Too good for his own good. 

“I’m going to Argentina soon. Got a good deal to play at in professional team while still being able to finish my studies,”

“That’s… That’s amazing Tooru,” Iwaizumi is excited for him – there were no doubts that he was going to make his dreams come true, but it’s like a weight has lifted off of Iwa’s shoulders; Oikawa is going to be miles away from you and you’re not going to fall back into the setter’s awaiting arms. 

“I know you’ll feel like she’s completely yours when I’m gone, but I’m not doing this for you. I want to change, to be a better person. A new country might help. But I won’t be gone from her life, yeah? I’m still her friend, even if it's a really shitty one. Time heals people, who knows what the future will bring.” Oikawa smiles and Iwaizumi’s heart beats in his chest. 

“If you want to get back with her someday-  I won’t- I won’t let you. Okay? Yeah, you have everything and she’s mine. You had your chance, Tooru,” Iwa is about to walk out, your bags in his hands, but there’s something stopping him. Right, “Text me when you’re there, tell me how you’re doing. Still want to know that you’re safe.”

“Will do,” Oikawa responds and the door to his apartment closes. It’s over.  

*** 

Iwaizumi blocks Oikawa’s number from calling you. The less you know the better. He’s away now and he doesn’t have time to call you. Everything is over and you’re happy with Iwaizumi. 

But when you press his hand against your neck harder and harder, the look in your eyes looks something close to a prayer, begging. He doesn‘t know if he should cry for himself or for you, because you‘re asking him to hurt you over and over again, harder and harder, for the physical pain to replace the everlasting ache in your heart; if even for a moment. You are completely and utterly Oikawa Tooru‘s and no matter how many  “I love you’s” you whisper into Iwaizumi’s neck on lonely and self-hatred filled nights, when the sun is replaced by the moon, he knows that you’ll never be his. That he’s never going to be your sun. He knows from the way your hands reach for your phone as soon as it rings, from the way your face drops when it’s not the voice you crave to hear, from seeing your eyes tear up when you’re looking at him, your head spinning from trying to imagine a different face instead of Iwaizumi’s. 

It's stupidly foolish of him to hope that he could ever be enough for you. That he could ever replace Oikawa, replace the man you compared to the sun. Iwaizumi was cold and bitter, the care and worry always masked by a scowl. Could he be your moon at least? Would you ever be satisfied with the coldness of the moon, when you once had the warmth of the sun? 

Iwaizumi doesn’t want you to answer the questions he never voices, the ones you have probably already answered hundreds of times in your head. 

All he can do is pull you closer and hope to be enough. The night is filled with sounds from the city that flow through the open window alongside the darkness. He can almost pretend he doesn’t feel the uneven rise of your chest, almost ignore the quiet sobs you try to hold in. 

Iwaizumi buries his face into your hair, the citrusy and musky smell of his shampoo filling his senses assuring him that he’s not in the wrong here. 

So why does it feel so bad to be selfish for once? To hold you in his arms like this, seeking to give you the comfort he knows you crave from another. 

Why does it feel so bad to keep you away from the sun?

Word count: 3.2k

Caregory: angst, smut

Warnings: depression, depressed reader, toxic relationships, someone needed to be an asshole in this so Tsukki is, kind of toxic Akaashi too, smoking, choking, cigarette burns.

Summary: Akaashi is always there to put you back together, granting your every wish. Even when you leave him without any message and disappear for two months. You could say that he has a soft spot for you

City of stars, are you shining just for him tonight? That’s what Akaashi is wondering. The stars are surprisingly bright tonight, as if knowing that now is when he needs their comfort the most.

Akaashi is mindlessly watching some stupid, mind-numbing late night program on his tv, trying to forget about the manga he has to finish editing until next week and… Other things.

The half-smoked mint cigarette hangs from his lips as the man lets out a sigh. He’s not anxious. Therapy and maturing has helped him calm his overthinking and anxieties a bit. He’s good at his job; he’ll manage to meet the deadline. However, other things cloud his mind and he’s not as good with that as he is at his job.

Akaashi’s phone, which was carelessly left somewhere in the kitchen, rings. He inhales the final breath of minty smoke and puts out the cigarette on the heart-shaped ashtray you had gifted him a long time ago. Akaashi finally stood up, lazily strolling to the kitchen, the light of his phone lighting up the big room in dim blue light. He picks it up and swipes "accept" without looking at the contact name. Probably Bokuto, wanting to hangout soon. Or maybe his boss, reminding about his deadline, or…

Keiji freezes on the spot when he hears your voice. It’s so quiet and weak that he thinks one breath from him will take it all away and he’ll wake up from a dream.

"’Kaashi… Keiji… Keiji, It’s bad again," you whisper and his heart breaks in real time; the pieces left from the last time you broke it, shattering into even smaller ones. Two months without seeing you. Two months without hearing from you. Two months without smelling your perfume, without touching your skin and hearing your voice. Your laugh… Well, he hasn’t heard that eternal sound for even longer. Two months, eight weeks, fifty six days, one thousand three hundred forty four hours since you had left him for another man.

Tsukishima Kei swept you away alongside Akaashi’s will to do anything but work until he almost passed out. You ghosted everyone from your life, it wasn’t only Akaashi. Last thing anyone heard about you — your friend Dina told Bokuto that you moved in with a "tall, blonde man". And now there you were again. Alive and calling him. Asking him to make everything better like he always used to. To come and take the pain away, even just for a minute. It hurt to breathe but just hearing your voice made the shards left of his heart pull closer together. Some selfish part of him wanted to hang up. To tell you to go find Tsukishima and fuck off. His rational part was horrified, that thoughts like that would cross his mind. He didn’t particularly dislike Tsukishima during high school days, damn, even liked the guy, but he couldn’t forgive him for doing this. For sweeping you away from him.

"You at your old place?" Keiji manages to ask.

"Y-yeah," there’s a sniffle and something clutters to the floor. Fuck, thag can’t be good.

"Okay, darling, okay. I’ll be at your place real soon, yeah? Unlock the door for me, ‘kay?

He doesn’t wait for your answer. He’s slipping his shoes on, grabbing his long, black coat and dashing out the door. His body remembers the routine way more than he thought it would. Maybe all those moments Akaashi rushed to you after a single phone call asking him to come, did that to a person.

He didn’t have the time to think that through. He was in his car, speeding through the busy streets of the city just to get to you. The hope of seeing your face again numbed most of the pain —the loss of you caused.

He’s at your door in what seems like a minute. The door is already unlocked so he just walks in. The smell of your home fills his senses and it’s as if his head clears. Oh, how he missed this. His coat is now hung up, shoes put away and he’s stepping in the tiny living room. There’s a lump of colorful blankets and you’re somewhere underneath. A step away. Real and alive. Real, alive and breathing — wanting him to put you back together. To make you feel better, to make you feel like you’re alive once again.

“Y/N, darling, I’m here,” the words come out in the softest voice he can manage and your head lifts up. Your hair’s a mess, eyes empty and dull. He can’t stand to see you like this, pain searing through his whole body. Some fucked up part of him is glad to see how much you need him though.

“Keiji, need you,” you whimper, “Want you to fuck the sadness out of me.”

It’s how it always went. Like a dance you both knew the steps to, perfectly well — he comes over, you guys fuck, he bruises you up a bit since you always beg him so prettily and then he’s there to pick up the pieces — listen to your ranting, asking you if you’ve been keeping up with drinking your meds and making sure you have something to eat.

He’s always there. And he would always be, no matter how much it hurt him to.

He takes a careful step towards you, lifting you up from your fluffy hiding place. You’re in his lap not even a moment later, head too heavy to hold, buried in his neck. You give it a little peck and his whole body burns. It’s like he’s some junkie going through withdrawal and your touch is the drug he so desperately craves. He’s turning his face towards your’s, slightly chapped lips kissing away at every millimeter of skin he can reach. It’s messy, it’s passionate and Akaashi doesn’t even notice the tears freely flowing down his face. A shuddering breath leaves his lips. Oh, how much he needed this.

“Keiji, need you, please,” you sigh in between kisses, one hand pawing at his pant-clad crotch. You have trouble keeping yourself up, but the need to be fucked until your brain is unable to make coherent thoughts makes the task easier.

“Yeah, yeah, need you too, pretty girl. Need to touch you,” he moans when he takes off your huge hoodie and sees that you’re not wearing anything underneath, nipples perking up at the temperature of the room. Akaashi’s hand, the one not holding onto you, paws at your breasts, squeezing until you gasp. Is it fucked up that he wants to cause you pain? You asked for it everytime you asked Akaashi to fuck you, but now he craved that himself. He craved the teary look in your eyes, the way you hit his chest when it got a little too much.

After letting himself indulge for a few moments, he lays you down on the couch, climbing on top of you, gently helping you get out of your sleep shorts and simple black panties. Cute, real cute. Akaashi missed you so much he couldn’t put it into words.

“Spread your legs for me, pretty girl,” he murmured, your legs instantly parting. Good, you haven’t forgot how you’re supposed to act. Your hands almost naturally find their place on Akaashi’s shoulders and his fingers are reaching for your pussy almost instantly. One finger circling the clit, the other easing into your hole. Tight, still so fucking tight. Akaashi groaned.

Tsukishima couldn’t fuck you as well as he could, right?

Keiji didn’t let himself overthink it. This moment was about you two; there was no space for the ‘third one’.

His second finger bullies it’s way alongside the first one and a third one joins next. It takes a while to find the spongy spot he used to be so familiar with. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming undone, pushing away at his clothed, hard chest from the overstimulation of Akaashi helping you ride out your orgasm.He’s smiling. That self-satisfied grin you know so well.

“Please, take off your clothes, Keiji, it’s uncomfortable,” you squirm under his gunmetal gaze and he obeys.

A single raise of your hand and he’s doing everything you ask for. It was always this way. His clothes are discarded on the dirty floor, littered with bottles of water and empty chips packets. He’s back to his position, careful not to let any of his weight fall on you. You admire him. Those big, doe-like yet still dull like before, taking in every detail of his body; from his lean physique, to his shoulder-length wavy raven hair and lithe fingers, still soiled with your clear juices. Your cheeks burn at the sight.

Akaashi’s fingers come near your mouth and you obediently part your lips, eager to take what he provides. He knows better, after all. He knows how to fix you. You clean off his slender fingers and Akaashi can’t help it - cloud-grey eyes narrowing as he pushes his digits deeper, digging until you’re gagging and only letting up when tears light up your beautiful eyes. When he finally pulls them out, he absentmindedly wipes them off on your skin. You shiver at the warm sensation and close your eyes.

Keiji pulls out his dick and it’s as pretty as he is, not too long, nor too thick, but still a lot to take; beautiful, flushed tip already leaking precum when the black-haired man gives it a few strokes. Your mouth parts to let out long breaths.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks, voice calm and collected, the complete opposite of you right now.

“Yeah, just haven’t- haven’t been with you for so long,” you shiver. Akaashi can’t help but seethe, remembering that you were with another man. Two whole damn months.

He lines up his cock with your hole and just slams it in with one smooth motion. Everything is white for a moment, you’re unable to see from the pleasure-filled pain. His cock slammed into your cervix, but he’s nice enough to let you get used to his length. You keen, not sure what you want Akaashi to do right now when the veins adorning his dick create mind-numbing friction. One of Keiji’s hands ghosts your neck, gently squeezing it and his gaze softens when you lean into his touch, craving to be hurt.

“I’m gonna move, sweet girl,” he warns you, but doesn’t give you time to think of an answer — Keiji is slamming into your tiny pussy, letting his head lean back. He’s blissed by the pleasure, fucking his fist for two months just wasn’t the same. Not even close. Pretty moans leave Keiji’s perfect lips, no matter how much he tries to suppress them. You’re just laying there, taking it, eyes cloudy and half-lidded. Mind probably already numb. Silly little thing.

“Keiji… Keiji, love,” the pet name rings in his head, the huge hand still wrapped around your willing neck squeezes. Hard. The silver ring wrapped around one of his fingers digs into your soft skin. You’re killing him. Giving him just enough to let the hurtful memories flow. It doesn’t seem to bother you.

Face content and calm, “Can you, can you burn me, please?”

You’re as sweet as ever. As if nothing ever happened. As if he’s responsible for making you feel better. Fuck. He knows he is.

“Yeah? You want me to burn you? My girl is a little fucking masochist?” it’s easy to slip into his degrading persona. Akaashi knows how much you love that. You don’t crave praise. Don’t want to be called pretty, don’t want nice things. You want temporary pain, to forget the real one that might never really go away.

You dumbly nod at Akaashi’s words, mind not putting two and two together, his cock still pounding away at your pussy, uncaring of your own pleasure. Keiji pulls out and you whine, hands automatically reaching for him, as if he would ever leave, now that he got you back.

The tall man finds a pack of mint cigarettes, left in the pocket of his black jeans. There’s a tiny daisy embroidery on the pocket done by you a long time ago. When you still had the energy to do anything. When he didn’t have to beg you to live another damn day.

Cigarette finds its way to the man’s lips and he quickly lights it up. You sigh happily, when Keiji slides his cock back into you, finally letting his fingers massage your clit. You let out a shuddered moan, pleasure burning all thoughts away.

“Ah, you’re so good to me, Keiji. So good, ah,” and with a particularly harsh thrust, the pleasure building in your lower belly snaps and you’re coming, creaming around his lengthy cock and as white hot pain surges through your whole body. Akaashi presses the hot end of the cigarette between your perfect tits. You scream, in pain and in pleasure, mumbles of “please” and garbles of his name praying for something. Something to take the pain away? Something to hurt you more?

Akaashi gives into his temptations, taking a long drag of the smoke, marking up your tits a few more times, letting you grab his shoulders and pull him close, crying away at his firm chest.

“Thank you- ah! Thank you so much, Keiji,” you breathe out and that’s all it takes for him to finish.

Your whole body turns warm as your inner walls are painted white. You’re so full. And so obedient to him. What a good girl you still are. It’s as if nothing has changed. You’re Akaashi’s again and everything falls back into place. Everything is where it’s supposed to be. You’re - in Akaashi’s arms, and Tsukishima somewhere damn far away.

You lay like this for a while - Keiji’s body on top of yours, everything sweaty and sticky, still keeping his body weight from crashing down on your tired body. He dresses up and makes you take a bath then; washing your hair for you, using a comforting vanilla smell body wash to clean your limp body next.

He can’t help but admire the marks he’s left. It’s a sign that you’re his. And he is yours. Eternally, forever. And no one can change that. No one knows how to help you, like he does.

Keiji dresses you in comfortable clothes and helps you get onto the bed after changing the sheets before laying you down. Tch, he bet that Tsukishima let you lay in messy sheets, never once changing them. Akaashi scolds himself. So much for not overthinking, so much for maturing. He was as insecure as he was in his teenage years, just learned to mask it better.

You pull Akaashi towards you, stopping his thoughts. He complies, undressing until he’s in his shirt and boxers, laying down beside you and pulling you close to himself, holding your body tight.

“I want to talk to you,” you mumble, still turned away from him with your back to his chest.

“I’m listening, baby.”

"You wanted me to feel better and I… Didn’t particularly want to get better. I guess- I guess the sadness, rash mania-driven decisions and my dependency on others has become such a big part of me that I thought…I thought that I would be empty without it."

"You wouldn’t." he interrupts your rant, pulling your shaking hands into his, gently rubbing your knuckles in an attempt to calm you down a bit.

You lift up your face to catch his eyes. Akaashi is already looking, "What?"

"You wouldn’t be empty, Y/N. The girl I met at high school… You were happy back then. You were cheerful, a bit loud and could make anyone like you. And even if you," he gently turns you towards him and caresses your face when you want to look away in shame, "think that you’re beyond fixing, or empty without your illness, you’re just wrong. I still see those traits in you. How you’re still you in the way you cheer up your friends. How you’re still you when even the delivery drivers seem to instantly like you and how you’re still you in understanding that it’s not bad to ask for help when you need it."

You don’t answer him. Somewhere deep in your mind, you know Akaashi is right. You know that he isn’t just trying to fix you to his liking, you know he doesn’t want you for the sex, despite how many times Tsukishima made you believe that. You bury your face in Akaashi’s neck and let his warmth embrace your limp and tired body.

"He told me that you wanted to make me into the version of myself that you wanted," you confess, quietly murmuring the words against the skin of his neck and Akaashi’s hands embrace you tighter. He can’t get mad now, but damn is it hard to keep his composure, "Keiji, he told me that you only wanted to fuck me ‘cause girls like me were compliant and easy to fuck," words flow out freely as you finally let go all the pent up sadness, confusion and a web of lies that you’re still so deeply tangled in, "He- he told me that you stayed with me because I was easy to hurt and that guys like you- prefered girls like me. And he let me skip taking my medicine. He said it was my choice and that he’s not gonna make me be happy and how he liked me the way I was-“ your voice breaks. You can’t say any more words.

It takes all of Akaashi’s strength to not get and go to Tsukishima’s place. Beat him up until the fire under his skin no longer burned, until he felt satisfied with the results, until he knew that you were out of the reach of the blonde’s manipulations and him. Akaashi Keiji is not a violent man, but when he sees you more fragile and broken than you were before, just because of one man and his lies, he can’t help it.

“It’s not your fault.” Akaashi kisses your face, “I know you think it is, but it isn’t. We’re gonna get you back on your medicine and you’ll go to that- that therapist downtown that you said helped you, yeah? We’re gonna get through this together. I’m always with you. I’ll help you. And… I love you, Y/N,” the confession rings into the stuffy silence of the small bedroom and you freeze in his arms.

Your lifeless eyes reach the open window. Your apartment is on the highest floor with light pollution not quite reaching it. The stars are clearly visible. Hundreds of thousands of little lights scattered across the night sky. It’s beautiful.

"The sky is so beautiful tonight, Keiji…" your voice is barely above a whisper, "A graveyard of stars."

Yes, the stars must really be shining for him tonight. He falls asleep with the thought of brighter tomorrows and a better future.

shoutout to the woman from my high school martial arts class who liked to get me in joint locks and then joke about how I was easy to catch. you cannot comprehend how psychosexually formative that was for me

Redraw of:

PoV: You're Yoo Junghyuk and are tired of Kim Dokja's shit again

Y'all, this is what I originally wanted this to look like

cuz you all know that's what's happening

@filthystill asked: [CHOKE] from the slime man (jim) @ holly from here

                What    was    it    that    she    said    ??    Holly    doesn't    even    remember    now.    But    clearly    it    was    enough    to    provoke    something    in    the    man.    It's    only    seconds    before    his    hands    are    wrapping    around    her    throat,    fragile    and    small    under    his    grip.    Was    it    the    drugs    or    was    it    anger    ??    Or    something    entirely    different    ??

                Digits    find    purchase    on    his    wrists,    chest    rising    as    jaw    slackens.    Blue    eyes    are    half    lidded,    watching    him.    This    was    threatening,    frightening,    to    have    a    man    on    whatever    fucking    substance    he    was    on    wrap    his    hands    around    your    neck,    and    yet    the    same    drugs    she    was    on    made    her    enjoy    it    that    much    more.

                "    What're    you    doin'    ??    "    She    whispers,    grip    of    her    own    tightening    around    his    wrists    as    she    shifts    her    weight    under    his    touch.    She    shouldn't    like    it.    Shouldn't    get    involved    with    a    man    like    this-    and    don't    get    her    wrong    she    IS    scared...    but    fuck,    Holly    does    not    want    him    to    let    up.

                Nick    thinks    for    a    moment.    He    thinks    about    squeezing    and    squeezing    and    squeezing    until    she's    no    longer    a    crying,    sniveling,    writhing    mess    underneath    him.    He'd    crawl    on    top    of    her    and    continue    to    do    so    until    the    lights    went    out    in    her    eyes,    all    because    she    even    DARED    to    take    a    bite    out    of    him.    Maybe    he'd    see    his    mother    or    father    in    her,    finally    getting    the    revenge    he    was    owed    on    them.    It    should    have    been    him,    not    some    fucked    up    junkie    on    the    street.

                That    moment    flits    away    as    fast    as    it    had    come,    and    when    he    see's    how    truly    fucked    up    she    was...    he    take    a    milisecond    longer    than    he    should    have    to    release    his    grip    on    her    throat.    However    the    thought    he    had    conjured    up    seconds    beforehand    remained    in    the    middleground    of    his    mind.

                Untouched    hand    comes    up    to    nurse    the    injured    one,    eyes    assessing    the    damage    she    had    inflicted    on    his    tattoos    (    he    has    the    money    to    fix    them,    that's    not    a    problem,    but    it's    the    fact    that    he's    been    inconvenienced    with    it    in    the    first    place    ).    He's    inconsiderate    about    the    whole    situation.    Had    she    not    have    bitten    him,    he    would    have    considered    feeling    bad    for    the    woman,    but    that    was    thrown    out    the    door    the    second    she    latched    on.

                "    Didi,    what    the    fuck    is    your    problem    ??    "    He    asks,    voice    lower    than    it    had    been    previously.    Both    hands    now    covered    in    blood.

She should have. She doesn't for the very simple fact that she can't allow the idea that she may not be enough for him enter her head. Didi's been there; felt the horror of not being good enough no matter how she would carve out pieces of herself because then maybe she'll fit the mold better. Didi decided a long time ago that it was better to act out than let herself feel that small ever again.

Especially because sugar daddy's were a dime a dozen. How many people had money? Loads. How many were stupid enough to fall for a few bats of her lashes and a hand on their thigh? Enough.

And if they didn't bend to her, she'd punch them in the goddamn throat and take their wallet.

All of that was better than this. This horrid feeling that she couldn't get him entirely under her thumb. That, whether he meant to hurt her or not, that she was still made to feel so insignificant.

And then it suddenly gets worse.

The teeth that were so hellbent on skinning him from the knuckle down suddenly release him. Blood is smeared over her teeth, making them as pink as her gums, and her lips, making her look more horrifying than she currently felt.

Hands grip her neck and suddenly she can't breathe. He's not even pressing hard enough to do so, but it's as if her throat caves in on itself and she can't catch her breathe no matter how she wheezes. Everything comes back to her in one sweeping wave of horrible, disjointed memories.

Nick couldn't have known. Didi had mentioned, once before, that it was was simply not her thing. She didn't care for being choked, were her exact words. It was made to sound like a preference, not the death sentence it felt like. Once again she refused to show weakness and now there is a physical consequence to her stubbornness.

Didi cries (And she doesn't cry unless it's on cue. She'd rather bleed out than show her genuine tears). It's that quiet sort of sob that starts with parted lips and squinted eyes, like she was desperately trying to scream yet nothing could come out. Then all at once, streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably as she shudders in his grasp, still trying to scream...something but unable.

They're at an impasse. There is a fear in her eyes and not just because of what he's done— she's completely terrified of something that he can't see and that she won't share. And why should she? They don't mean anything to each other.