I Have Put Them In A Situation (gay Ppl Come Get Ur Little Knight/prince Au Pspsps)

not fair - ch3

in which your boyfriend is perfect in every single way... except for one and kei can't just sit back and watch you suffer... previous | ch3 | next (coming soon) [masterlist]

// "you ruined me too, i guess." ~ ᴛsᴜᴋɪsʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 7589 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter/tw: 18+ minors dni super nfsw!, cheating (seriously, major plot point), a bit heavier angst in this one guys, use of character first names, degradation, choking, face-fucking, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, stop light system, squirting, dirty talk, name calling, coming twice, plot-heavy, cross posted from ao3, afab reader she/her pronouns, this is actually the chapter i stopped at before being commissioned to write the last three parts

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

You hadn’t spoken to Kei in almost 4 months, not at all.

You went from messaging him daily, constantly, seeing him 5-6 times a week, getting coffee with him, having him come over for dinner, hanging out with you and Tadashi to absolutely nothing. You couldn’t help yourself when you were around him, couldn’t stop thinking about him when you weren’t around him, so you had to cut him off. After that night, coming home and crawling into bed with Yamaguchi, his arms wrapping around you, they didn’t feel right. They weren’t as strong as Kei’s. Everything that he did reminded you that he wasn’t Kei. You could feel every mark that Kei had left on your body and you were missing him so much that your heart physically hurt. It had to stop. 

When Yamaguchi asked why you guys weren’t talking anymore, you almost started crying. You told him that you guys had gotten into an awful fight and that you couldn’t talk about it. Though it was technically a lie, it seemed convincing enough. Every time that he would try to ask about it, you would get emotional, tears flooding your eyes and heart feeling heavy. He stopped asking about it after a while, just accepting that you weren’t ready to talk about it. He was kind like that. He was conflicted, not knowing whether or not to drop everything with his best friend. You encouraged him to go see him if Tsukishima wanted to and he did.

Everything about Yamaguchi was kind and sweet and everything that you should have wanted, but not being with Kei for the past few months really showed you how difficult it was for you to be with someone like that. Tadashi would listen to you rant about your favorite TV shows, make you breakfast in the morning, tell you all of the things about you that he loves, but every inexplicably nice thing that he did made you miss Kei’s antics even more. You missed when he would make fun of the plot holes in your garbage TV shows, how he would groan at you and throw things when you tried to ask him to make you breakfast, how special he would make you feel when he would tell you the things he loved about you. You were convinced that it was just your obsessive mind, that something was wrong with you.

Not above everything else, but a large chunk of the reason that you missed him, was how great you were together in bed. Nothing was the same without him. You barely even wanted to try to make yourself come. Even when you succeeded the few times that you did, you felt less satisfied after you finished than you had when you started. It didn’t matter how hard you tried or what you did, nothing compared to how good he was at it and how much he cared. 

You had gotten used to the fact that you would never be satisfied again. You never should have fucked him the first time. You were fine with the situation that was happening, at least you could make yourself come. Ignorance truly is bliss, you guessed. 

Except, there was one night, one fateful night, when you were in bed with Yamaguchi, on all fours as he fucked you from behind, that you actually felt pleasure for the first time in months. 

“How is it, sweetheart?” he asked, his breathing sporadic despite only inserting himself into you a few minutes ago. You tried your best to sound into it for his sake at least. The endearing name that came out of his mouth, once belonging to him, but now, even 4 months void of hearing him say it, it was still Kei’s. You wished you’d never told him the name because now it’s all you can think about. 

He angles down, accidentally grazing your g-spot, something he has never done in your relationship, ever. It’s not as thoughtful as when Kei does it, nor as harsh, but it sends the smallest amount of pleasure into your core as you inhale deeply. It’s been so long since you’ve felt actual pleasure, that it just slips out of your mouth. It’s the first thing that your body thinks of when you feel even the smallest amount of satisfaction.

“Fuck, Kei.” As soon as it leaves your mouth, you’re hoping that the rest of the room is loud enough to cover it. You want to crawl into a hole and never be seen again. Even with Kei out of your life for 4 months, the second that you feel good, he’s all your brain can think about. Tadashi slows and you know how badly you’ve fucked up. 

He stops, still inside of you, as he asks, “What?” You don’t know what to do, what to say, you’re frozen in time. When you don’t reply, he pulls out of you, getting up from off of the bed, repeating himself, but adding your name to try to pull you out of your own head. “(y/n), what?” He doesn’t have to ask what. He doesn’t have to ask you to repeat yourself, he knows exactly what you said. 

All of those years of not being suspicious about you and Kei have come back to haunt him all at once. His voice is stern, now, growing impatient. This is a side of him that you’ve never seen. He’s not even angry, just confused and evidently hurt. “(y/n).” His tone is cold and pained. 

“I-.” You feel so small as you choke out one word. You want to rewind time, not just to before you moaned Kei’s name, but to back before that night that you admitted your deepest secret to Kei, the night that you weren't able to turn back from. Your hesitance and lack of words are speaking absolute volumes to him as he scoffs at you, putting his clothes back on and pacing around the room. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, putting your underwear and shirt back on, looking down at your feet to avoid his eyes. 

“You what, (y/n), tell me, what?” 

“I’m sorry,” is all you can manage to say, a genuine, whether he thinks so or not, apology. It’s genuine, but what exactly are you apologizing for? Even you don’t know. 

Tadashi takes a deep breath, turning to you and stopping in his tracks. “Did you really say it? Please, (y/n), tell me that I wasn’t hearing right, that you said something else and my ears deceived me, please.” 

You know that if you were to tell him, he would believe you. You wouldn’t even have to explain yourself, he would just understand and he would trust you and you guys would crawl into bed and he would hold you and you would wish it was Kei. 

“You said it, didn’t you?” He sounds so defeated, sighing softly and swallowing, tears in his eyes. “Can you at least just tell me that you were just thinking about him for whatever stupid reason? That it was all in your head? That it wasn’t based off of anything that actually happened?” You wish you could. He waits for you to talk, waits nearly 30 minutes in complete, agonizing silence. The awkward air never settling, just getting worse and worse by the second. 

“You have to say something, (y/n). I deserve to know.” He doesn’t even sound angry. You want him to sound angry. You want him to scream, to throw things, to slam the door as he leaves, but even after you’ve cheated on him, he’s still just a genuinely kind guy who’s just hurt. He refuses to say another word, sitting in silence for another 10 minutes before you start to speak up. 

“I did…” You take a deep breath. “I did say it, by the way.” You admit to the first issue at hand, something that he definitely already knows, so you continue on. “We… Kei and I…” You’re trying to find the right words, but nothing is going to sound right coming out of your mouth. “We slept together.”

Everything is silent. You can’t even hear each other breathing. 

“Why?” he asks, bluntly. He deserves to know, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him the actual reason, but he’s repeating it again, “Why?” He repeats it again, begging to know this time, “(y/n), why, please.” He keeps asking because you’re staying silent. The word why is flying around your head so much, fogging your thoughts that it just slips out of your mouth. 

“Because you couldn’t make me come,” you admit, louder than you should have. You didn’t want to play the victim here, you weren’t the victim. It was the worst excuse that could have been said. You try to backpedal. “I- I just… You couldn’t… make me come and he could. So we slept together, but only twice before I-.”

Yamaguchi is taking in the entire situation that’s unfolding in front of him. He looks hurt and confused and the anger that you’ve been expecting this whole time is still nowhere to be seen. “That’s a shitty excuse,” he interrupts you. 

“I know. I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to excuse myself. I just-.”

“Twice? You slept with him twice?” he asks.

“Yeah, only twic-.”

“ Only twice? Wow, thank you so much for only sleeping with my best friend twice.” He’s getting annoyed at your responses, at himself for sticking around, for being stepped on. You wanted to add that he wasn’t just Yamaguchi’s best friend, he was your best friend too, he was your best friend first, but that didn’t sit well. “What that means, (y/n), is that you did it once and then you did it again because you didn’t feel guilty enough to stop after doing it once.”

You’re quiet again. Nothing that you say is going to fix this. “I’m sorry.” 

“That’s where you were a few months ago, isn’t it?” He put the pieces together, connected the dots. “You weren’t out on a walk, you were cheating on me with Kei.” He doesn’t even wait for confirmation. “Was that the first time?”

“Dashi, no, I-.” You don’t want to tell him, you can’t tell him that you fucked on your bed when he wasn’t home, that you didn’t wash the sheets because it reminded you of that night, that you would get nervous, but excited wondering if Tadashi could see the cum stains on your side of the bed. 

“Where?”

“Here,” you admit as fast as you can. Tadashi scoffs, grabbing his bag and shoving things into it, muttering as he does so. You sit on the bed quietly, watching him race around the room, but not trying to stop him. “You fucked him here, in our home, in our bed, where we sleep . Fucking unbelievable. This whole time, I knew that something was weird between you two, but I never said anything. I trusted you, (y/n), I trusted you.” He shakes his head, grabbing clothes, electronics, his wallet, anything that he can grab, and shoving it into his bag. 

“I can’t fucking believe you. I mean, I thought I couldn’t believe you. I…” He stops himself, taking a deep breath and looking into your eyes. It’s only now that you can see how red they are, tears spilling out of them in heavy drops. Yours are dry. 

“I don’t… I’m sorry.” It’s Tadashi that’s apologizing. You reach out, gently placing your hand on his shoulder and rubbing your thumb into it. 

“Dashi, don’t apologize.” Part of you thinks that this means he’s going to set his bag down and crawl back into bed with you and be the little spoon until you both fall asleep. Another part of you knows it’s already over. 

“I love you,” he says to you, looking into your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to say it back. You stand up, urgently. 

“You should stay here. I’m going to go. I can’t… I can’t be in this house. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” Even though he has his bag packed already, even though it sounds like he was ready to talk and to give you a second chance, your chest is feeling tight. You had to get out of that room, out of that house. Hearing him tell you that he loves you made you feel sick. It doesn’t sit right in your stomach at all. 

“If you leave right now and go to Kei’s, I’m done. We’re done.” It’s the most sturdy sentence that Tadashi had ever said, not riddled with fear or sorrys, just stern. 

You don’t even bother to grab a bag like Tadashi did or to say goodbye as you left or to look back at him standing exactly where you left him. You pushed past him and out the door, desperate to get fresh air into your lungs. 

Tadashi knows exactly where you’re headed when he notices that you didn’t even grab the car keys from the counter. He doesn’t know what he expected. 

The air is much colder than you anticipate it being. The large amounts of it that you’re taking into your lungs to negate the feeling of panic in your heart burn as they fill your chest. Not once during your time in the room with Tadashi did you cry. Watching how upset and sad that you had made him didn’t even make your eyes water, but out on the street, taking that familiar walk that you had taken so often, but not recently, the tears started to form and fall from your eyes. 

By the time you make it to his front door, your vision is completely blurred and your lungs hurt so much from heaving that you’re contemplating holding your breath forever. You don’t even know what you’re doing here. You hadn’t called or texted. It was nearly 3 in the morning. You knew that he would be sleeping. You hadn’t talked to him in months. How did you know he would even let you in?

You knock on the door with as much strength as you can muster, 4 light rasps against the wood. You wait for a minute before trying to knock again. When there’s still no answer, you ring the doorbell once. You’re about to give up when you hear the soft click of the unlocking of the door, a tired Kei stands in front of you, his glasses not even on his face as he squints at you. His eyes open wider when he realizes who it is. “(y/n)? What are you doing here?”

It’s cold outside, but you don’t make the move to try to get inside. He hasn’t invited you in yet, and you’ve lost the privilege of slinking past him and taking off your shoes and walking into his room without question when you broke off all contact with him for 4 months. 

“He broke up with me.” You sniffle at the end of your sentence. Saying it out loud makes a sob erupt from your chest. Your legs feel weak as you bring your hands up to your face, crying into them, your entire body shaking. 

Part of you feels bad for bombarding Kei like this, but you didn’t know where else to go and you definitely couldn’t have stayed. If you had to look at Tadashi for one-second longer, you would have told him everything, even the parts that he definitely doesn’t need to hear. You feel your wrist being pulled inside, Kei shutting the door behind you before continuing to pull you into his bedroom. It looked exactly like it did those few months ago, the bed disheveled from Kei leaving from it so quickly to answer the door. You were laying there with him a few months ago, about to kiss him. You wish you would have kissed him. 

Kei pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that you can’t move. You feel so secure, so safe. You can’t stop crying, wetting his shoulder from the tears. He rubs your lower back with his palm and your shoulder with his thumb, comforting you. You can feel him hesitate, but ultimately press a kiss into the top of your head. You melt into him. 

“It’s not his fault. I cheated on him. I know this, but I just… I should be sadder, Kei,” you say into his shoulder. 

“You’re sobbing, what do you mean?”

“I’m not sobbing because I broke up with Tadashi.” You’re treading on thin ice here, but your emotions are completely getting the better of you, pushing you forwards. “I’m sobbing because after he broke up with me, my chest felt lighter. After he broke up with me, the only thing I could think about was you and how I wouldn’t have to hide or lie anymore. He gave me a choice, Kei. He told me that if I left and came to your house that he was going to break up with me, that we were through.” You pause. “And look where I’m at now.”

Tsukishima is silent, his arms around you beginning to fall weakly off of your sides. 

“Fuck,” you breath, pulling away from him, sitting on the edge of his bed, and putting your face in your hands. “I was so good at hiding my feelings, Kei, suppressing them so fucking well, and then we spent that night together and- and I couldn’t get you out of my head again.” You grab a fistful of your own hair in frustration. “I mean, fuck.” You pick your head back up, tears slowing, resting your chin in your hands. 

He sits next to you but still doesn’t speak. You continue talking, scared of what will happen when the air settles around the conversation. “I was happy. I was content. I-,” you pause, “I didn’t have to sit and wonder if the guy that I’m in love with cared about me in a way that involved more than just sex.” You’ve said all that you could say. 

It’s quiet. The atmosphere is calmer than it was back at your house. You steady your breathing, not that it matters, because Kei’s next sentence knocks the wind out of you. 

“I wish I would’ve kissed you that night,” he admits to you, his voice low. “I’ve regretted it every day since you left. I thought that maybe, maybe if I would’ve kissed you, you would’ve stayed or- or you would’ve just known.”

“Known?” you ask, innocently. 

He exhales sharply, almost resembling a laugh. “Known that I was fucking in love with you.”

The tears that had started to subside came back with everything they had, your whole body wracked, shoulders heaving as he said those words. Even though he was sitting right next to you, he felt miles away. All you wanted was for him to wrap around you. You wanted to crawl into his lap, to feel his fingertips on your scalp again, to feel him give you any contact at all. 

You’ve thought about that night endlessly, spent hours awake remembering how he looked underneath you. Even after the thoughts of your incredible sex subsided, after they faded into the back of your mind, after you pushed them back there, you couldn’t get the look in his eyes out of your head. You kept watching them, replaying in your head, as they flickered to your lips and lingered, how they didn’t look hungry, but yearning. 

You don’t know how to reply, but you need to speak. You need to tell him something, anything, to remind him why you’re here in the first place, why you chose him overworking it out with Tadashi, anything to get him to move closer to you and hold you. 

Or maybe you don’t need to speak. Maybe you don’t need to say anything to get him to move closer and hold you. He had just done the hard part. He told you that he was in love with you, or, that he was in love with you. Was he still? 

You looked up at him, saw his head hanging like he’d made a mistake, his gaze stuck on the floor while he fiddled with his thumbs. You turn to him, nudging underneath his arm and crawling into his lap, exactly where you wanted to be. You sit in his lap, curled up in a small ball, tears still overflowing from your eyes. 

He doesn’t move for a minute, worry creeping up on you as he doesn’t react to you being in his lap, but then he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head. Your ear is pressed against his chest and you can hear the dull thumping of his heart. You time your breathing with it, your tears slowing as they synchronize. 

You’re aware of how little has been said since he confessed to you. You want to tell him something that will make him feel more at ease for having said it. “I wanted to kiss you too, that night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” It’s quiet again, but you know that he hears you. He tightens his grip in response, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he rests his forehead against your cheek. 

Kei turns you slightly so that you’re facing him, legs wrapped around his waist as he holds you up with strong arms behind your back. You’re staring into his eyes again like you were four months ago, but you’re not riddled with conflicting thoughts, you’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. 

Before you even start inching closer to him, Kei’s facial expression changes just slightly. “Can I ask?” He pauses, waiting for you to give confirmation for him to go on. When you do, he continues, “What finally did it? Why did you guys finally break up?”

You had told him that you guys had broken up, had come over his house at 3 in the morning sobbing, had told him that you chose him over Tadashi, but nowhere in your mind did you think that you’d have to tell him why exactly you broke up. You flush red recalling the events. It was somehow more embarrassing recalling them, about to say them aloud, than to actually have gone through them. “I- Well, I mean-,” you stutter over your words causing him to look confused. 

“You don’t have to tell me, for whatever reason, I know that we haven’t ta-,” he starts, but you interrupt him, shaking your head. 

“No, no. I want to tell you, Kei, but you… you can’t laugh.” Your eyes are pleading.

“Tch, well when you say that, you know I can’t promise such things.” You’ve missed his little tongue clicks.

You take a deep breath. “He was fucking me.” You take another deep breath, avidly avoiding Kei’s eyes and evidently piquing his interest. “And he hit that spot.” Your cheeks are burning as you take another breath to steady yourself. “And I said your name.” 

His jaw drops, head tilting to the side as he tries to conceal his cockiness, his disbelief, his bliss. You bury your face into his chest, the warmth of your cheeks worsening by the second. “You said my name while he was fucking you?”

“Kei, you don’t understand,” your voice is muffled by his shirt, “I hadn’t gotten off in so long, hadn’t felt like actual pleasure since that night, and so, and- and he-.” You’re stumbling over your words, but he doesn’t say anything. “He hit it on accident and I just couldn’t help it. It was slipping out of my mouth and I’ve never wanted to hide more.”

He leans back, pulling his chest away from your face as you look up at him. His head is tilted back and he’s laughing at the whole situation. “I told you that I couldn’t promise anything. Wow. He hit it by accident?”

You nod at his question. Nothing about this situation is funny, but seeing Kei laugh makes you start laughing. You want to feel worse about it, but it’s just the two of you in this secluded room and being with Kei for the first time in months, you feel truly happy again. You push him slightly, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards as you bury your face into his chest again. “Don’t be mean to me.”

Kei brings his hand under your chin, lifting your head until your gaze meets his. No matter how hard you try to avert it, he moves you to match it. He rubs small circles into your chin. It sends shivers through every part of your body. “I’m sorry. I’m not being mean. I’m flattered, really.” You melt into him, letting your chin form into his hand before looking at his lips so obviously that if he didn’t get the hint, you’d start crying again. 

He knows, of course, he knows, but he asks anyway. “Can I kiss you?” His voice is soft but audible. 

You nod gently, making sure not to disturb his hand on your chin, “Please.” He brings your face to his, carrying it with his fingertips before meeting it halfway. When his lips first touch yours, the first thing you notice is how different they taste from before. Without the sex driving the kiss, it felt less desperate, less like it needs to happen and more like it is just supposed to happen. Your eyes flutter shut, your body threatening to start shaking if you don’t deepen the kiss. You need more of him. 

You place your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him closer, your face squished against his as much as it could be. This kiss was completely different in every aspect. You were no longer with Tadashi, this wasn’t just a meeting for a hookup. This was your best friend, who ( is? was? ) in love with you. The two words switch back and forth in your mind, asking if he is still in love with you. 

You pull away, much to your own dismay. His lips almost start to pout when you’ve pulled away until he sees how serious you are. You have to ask. You have to know. “Are you…” You pause, rewording the question, “You said that..” You take a breath. “That you were in love with me.” He turns red as he nods. “Is that… like, you were, but aren’t anymore? Or like you were and still are?” 

He blinks at you slowly, the red fading off of his face as a smile replaces his nervousness. He laughs, shaking his head and putting his lips back on yours. “I don’t think I could ever not be.” You not only hear the words but feel them against your lips. Your hands are back on his face, desperate to kiss him so hard that you can’t breathe. 

You roll off of his lap, your hands still on the sides of his face guiding you with him, pulling him on top of you. The kiss is still innocent enough, despite the position you find yourself in. He’s hovering over you, his hips directly above yours. You snake your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer into you. You open your mouth slightly, letting your tongue slip out and swipe against his lip, hoping with everything in you that he lets you in. 

You can tell how surprised he is to feel your tongue, but he lets you enter. Without the smashing of your teeth, the fighting of your tongues, you explore his mouth, running your tongue over his and the back of his teeth. You moan into his mouth as he places a hand on your hip, rolling up against him softly. You can feel him growing hard at the contact. He grunts as he rolls down against you in response. 

You move your mouth from his, kissing down his neck and sucking at the base. You were surprised at how much he reacted to this. All this time, he had abused and riddled your neck with marks and bruises, but he wanted them just as much. You bite into his soft skin, sucking on an area gently, running your tongue over it lightly, using your bottom lip to rub the spot as well. You pull at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the side. You run your hands down his chest, down his toned stomach, just feeling his skin as you nibble on his collarbones. Kei is moaning into your ear at the feeling. 

Your hands move down to his boxers, only the thin fabric separating his growing length and your hand. You palm him as you kiss his neck again. His breath stutters in your ear as he thrusts into your hand. You begin to start taking them off when he pulls away suddenly. You look up at him, confused and worried. “Kei?”

“(y/n),” he breathes, “I- I want this so badly. I want you so badly, but you literally just got out of a relationship an hour ago. I don’t want to take advantage of you or have you do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

You shake your head, your eyebrows furrowed. “Please, Kei, I’ve waited so long to do this right. I know this isn’t ideal. I know what happened. I get it. I know, but… please. I want this,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “I could never regret spending a night with you. I never have and I never will.” 

He mulls over the situation, thinking carefully before confirming again, “Are you sure?” 

You nod again. “Yes, yes, Kei. I’ve missed you so much in every way possible.”

He caresses your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb over your jawline. “Is this just a hookup?” The question stops everything in you. You pull his face back down to yours, kissing everywhere but his mouth as you repeat the word no over and over again. 

“No, god, fuck, Kei, no. No. I want you so badly, but not just because you can make me come so fucking good, but because I want to be that close to you again. I want to feel you inside of me and I want you to hold me after.” You don’t know if the words you’re saying are too sappy, but they’re true and they work. Kei kisses you this time, pressing his lips against you hard, but not rough. 

“How have you survived these past months without me?” he asks. You giggle at the question, but then exhale, almost defeated.

“Barely, honestly,” you admit. “I’ve come twice by myself and they were the worst orgasms I’ve ever had.” 

“We’ll have to fix that, then, yeah, baby?” For some reason, the pet name makes you feel warm. He had called you it before, but it felt different now like he meant it more. The thought of him calling you baby outside of sex just added to the fire. You nod at him, resuming your kiss. As you’re building up the moment again, Kei pulls your shirt off, releasing your tits from your shirt and massaging them as he devours your tongue. 

You roll your hips against him again, feeling him almost completely hard already. You needed to feel his skin. You grabbed the waistband, gently tugging it down as far as you could from your position underneath him. You took his cock into your hand, stroking the rock hard length until you could feel even more blood rushing to it. Everything that you’re doing to him is getting a much bigger reaction than before, but you love it. You pull away from his mouth just long enough to spit into your hand, slicking his cock with the saliva, your fist gliding over it much easier now. 

Kei isn’t speaking, which is unusual, but you’re looking up at his face in the times when your lips are apart and you’re looking at the concentration on his face. It makes your heart flutter. “Pants off,” he says, but it’s not demanding. The short phrase is just desperate . You move your hand from his cock to undo your own pants, sliding them off with your underwear. You wrap your fist back around his cock, but not before dipping your fingers into yourself, moaning softly at the contact. You use how wet you are to lubricate his cock, your fist moving faster now. When he sees you do so, hears how wet you are when you push your fingers inside of you, feels the wetness on his cock, he twitches, pulling your hand away and pinning it down on the bed. 

You look up at him, somewhat confused. He looks almost embarrassed. You pull him into another kiss, wrapping your legs around him, his cock brushing only slightly against your lips as he groans into your ear. He holds your hips in place, pushing you back onto the beg, unwrapping your legs from him. He owes you some sort of explanation, but he wasn’t going to give it to you without keeping you occupied. 

He reaches down, still towering over top of you, bracing himself with one hand. “I haven’t come since the last time we were together,” he explains, avoiding eye contact with you. “You ruined me too, I guess.” The words shake your entire being. You blink at him, eyes open without knowing what to say. 

Your mind is distracted as he rubs two fingers between your lips, curling them around your pussy, pressing into your hole ever so slightly. You want to grab his wrist and shove his fingers inside of you. You think if he did that, you might come on the spot. You missed his fingers so much, missed any part of him being inside you so much. He uses his thumb to rub your swollen clit, the small circles making your heart race. Seeing you underneath him, squirming and wriggling from the small movements, a cocky smile spreads over his face. He missed seeing you like this. 

All at once, he shoves his fingers in, your pussy completely swallowing them up to the knuckle, slamming into your g-spot with such purpose. You clench around his fingers. “Kei, fuck, again, please, just once more, again.” You can’t believe how pathetic you sound right now, asking him to do it once more, knowing it’ll push you over the edge with how little you’ve been pleased lately, with how dissatisfying your sex life had been. 

He listens to you, pulling his fingers nearly all the way out, and then slamming them back into you, pushing as hard as he can to get as deep as he can. His thumb hasn’t stopped messily flicking over your clit as he does so. You’re rolling your hips on his fingers as you come for the first time in months. These little movements shouldn’t have made you come so fast, but you couldn’t help it. His eyes are wide as he notices that you’ve already come. He rides you through your orgasm, pumping his fingers in and out of you quickly. When you’re finishing coming, he doesn’t stop, so fascinated by how quickly you’re getting there. Your pussy feels so sensitive already, but you can feel another wave of pleasure about to wash over you and you welcome it. He curls his fingers up, hitting your spot repeatedly with his long, slender fingers. He’s watching you the whole time, gaze strong as he slams his fingers in and out of you, inserting another finger right before you come. His fingers don’t make you feel nearly as full as his cock, but it’s a start. 

The pleasure from his fingers inside of you and his thumb on your sensitive clit are too much. The pressure building in your lower stomach releases all at once, spraying the bed beneath you as you scream out his name in repetition. He pulls his fingers out of you, using his entire hand to rub against your clit faster than anyone ever has as you finish coming. You’re sweating from how hard your body is clenching, your hands making fists into the sheet as tears blink from your eyes. 

You’re feeling even more sensitive, but Kei puts his fingers back inside of you. “Kei, Kei, I can’t, I can’t come again, fuck.” 

“You remember the rules, yeah?” he asks, making sure that you don’t actually want him to stop. You nod at him excessively, holding his wrist in place and rocking your hips on his fingers when he slows down to check. He smiles at you, continuing to finger you. You can see his arm start to shake. He hadn’t slowed down once since he started hammering his fingers into you and you’re so grateful for it. The continuous, never letting up, pleasure that he’s created makes your orgasm come even quicker than you think it’s going to. 

Just as you’re about to come for the third time, he removes his fingers and slips into you, grunting as he does so. You feel every inch fill you as he pushes into your tight hole, stretching even further for him as he hits the back of your walls. You gasp for air as you feel his complete length inside of you, rubbing against your walls. His hand is gone from your clit, but he’s penetrating you deeply. You come around him, gripping onto his cock like a fucking vice as you cry out. He thrusts into you and pulls out, looking obviously labored from how tight you’re clenching around him. He’s muttering a string of fuck s as he does so. 

“Kei, fuck, thank you, thank you, fuck,” you mutter into his shoulder, running your fingernails down his back, wanting him closer, deeper. 

“You’re so tight, baby, fuck. You’re so tight and you’re all mine,” he says. There’s no mention of Tadashi, no nicknames that remind you of him, only saying things that are just the two of yours. After you’ve come, he slows his hips, fucking into you slowly, but hard, never breaking eye contact with you.

His hand is in your hair, using it to pull you on to him slowly. A small part of you was convinced that the only reason that you and Kei’s sex was so incredible was because it was rough and degrading and hot and though it can be all those things, it doesn’t always have to be. You’re realizing very quickly that you don’t need Kei to fuck you really rough for you to enjoy it, for both of you to revel in it. 

His slow thrusts don’t last very long as his breathing starts getting quicker. His hips pick up speed again, pushing so deeply into you that he can feel every part of your pussy wrapped around him. His thrusts are getting messier, stuttering instead of keeping the perfect rhythm that he normally does. His arm is shaking to hold himself up.

“Fuck, (y/n), fuck, baby, fuck, I’m going to come. Fuck, fuck, will you come with me, baby? Will you come on my cock while I fill you? I need to feel you clenching around me, milking the cum that’s already coming out of my cock, coaxing more and more out until you can taste it, please, baby, fuck.” All of the dirty talk that he held back from during comes out in this moment. His words bring you right to the edge. Feeling his cock ache inside you, looking into his eyes as you nod helplessly letting the orgasm echo through your entire body. You can feel it in every part of you as you squeeze around him, doing exactly what he asked of you. 

He didn’t demand anything of you, only asked nicely, even throwing in a please. Even still, you wanted to do whatever he asked of you, especially if that thing was coming on his cock as he came inside of you. His cock is throbbing, pulsing with every slam into you, with every stream of cum that comes out of his cock as he fucks it into you. Your moans are straggled as you try to speak, to thank him for everything, to just say his name. He’s moaning into your ear, a murmur of dirty words and your name repeated over and over again. It’s mostly gibberish, except a “thank you” that slips out among the rest. You feel flush all over as he sloppily fucks into you for the last time. You feel the cum drip out of you as soon as he pulls out.

Despite how tired you feel, you know that you have to go clean yourself up so that you can actually sleep. You just assumed you would stay the night, but maybe that’s not what he’s expecting. You make your way to the bathroom, waving him off when he tells you to stay and that you can fix it tomorrow. You hear him in the other room, changing his sheets on the bed and getting dressed again. 

When you enter into his room again, having brushed your teeth with the toothbrush he still kept in his medicine cabinet, you see him pulling one of his old volleyball shirts out of his drawer, tossing it to you as you walked in the room. “For tonight. Figured it’d be better to sleep in than what you had on.” You smile, a warmth spreading from your chest to the tips of your fingers and toes. 

“Thank you, Kei,” you put the shirt on, taking in how soft it is and how much it smells like him. 

He climbs into the middle of the bed, keeping the covers thrown to the side for you to get into bed with him. He pats the bed beside him when you seem hesitant. You slowly make your way over, getting into bed. He throws the covers over top of you before turning onto his side, looking at you with sleepy, but happy eyes. 

“What?” you ask, the attention making you blush even harder. He shakes his head, not saying anything, so you ask again, “What?”

“Nothing,” he waves you off, pressing a kiss into the side of your head and flipping you so that your back is flush against his chest, snaking his arms around your waist. 

“Tsukishima Kei,” you flip back around, staring him in the eyes, “What?”

He laughs at how serious you are, moving a piece of hair out of your eyes and kissing your forehead. “I just think you’re pretty, that’s all.” Your eyes widen in surprise as you flip back over, pushing yourself back into him, hiding what a dark crimson your skin had turned. He laughs again at your reaction, his hand resting on your hip and massaging it as he kisses the back of your neck. 

He wraps his legs in yours, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his breath on your ear but you don’t mind. It’s silent for a moment, but despite how tired you are and how dark the room is, you can’t seem to sleep. Your eyelids feel heavy, but there are words that need to be said that haven’t been. “Kei?” you ask quietly, seeing if he’s still up. He hums into your back evidently awake from the response time but getting sleepier by the second. You place your hand on his, squeezing it gently as you turn back around to face him.

His eyes are shut, lashes fluttering softly at your movement before opening the tiniest bit. Your face is so close to his that it’s killing you not to kiss him right now, but you need to say it first. He needs to hear it first. 

“I love you, Kei.”

His eyes open wider now, he inhales slightly sharper than before, but a smile rests on his face. He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours for a moment before pulling away, a pout instantly forming on your face. “Hey,” you voice your concern, but he just raises his eyebrows. 

“Fine, fine, I won’t tell you that I love you too or that I’m so glad that everything happened the way it did despite how messy it was or that I want to fall asleep with you every night,” he says, shrugging, but pressing his lips back into yours again. He’s so good at everything he does. You want to keep kissing him, but more so, you want him to continue to tell you nice things. 

He spends the rest of the time that you’re awake telling you all of the things he’s never told you. You exchange secrets, you laugh, you kiss, you cry a little bit, you kiss some more, you kiss even more. Eventually, the sun peeks out from the horizon casting a bright, but soft pink, glow into Kei’s room. You press your face into his chest, hiding your eyes from the light at first, but then finding so much comfort in the contact, in the heartbeat. It calms you into a sleep. He massages his fingers into your scalp, petting and smoothing your hair.  

This entire time, everything you wanted was right there in front of you, but now you had it. 

“Goodnight, baby,” he says softly into your head, “I love you.”

Your heart beams. 

taglist: @daddyjackfrost @karasunoya @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @itsmeteiiteii @omiivr @cyueksims @kei-tsuki21 @ks-tsukki @snazzyturtles send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tsukkiyama (inspired by business proposal)

new frogs jersey

ʏᴀᴍᴀɢᴜᴄʜɪ ᴛᴀᴅᴀꜱʜɪ ❀ ᴋᴀʀᴀꜱᴜɴᴏ’ꜱ ꜱᴘᴇᴀʀ ❁ (ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 10) ❤

     🅷🅰🅿🅿🆈 🅱🅸🆁🆃🅷🅳🅰🆈 🆈🅰🅼🅰🅶🆄🅲🅷🅸❢

summer heat ☀️☀️☀️

i hate whenever people say "autism and adhd are basically the same disorder" because that isn't even remotely true. autism believes a strong defense is the best offense, and focuses on keeping plays connected in order to steadily earn points, while adhd is characterized by unpredictable high risk combination attacks that prioritize scoring

bench players

𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 5613 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ~ // nsfw (minors dni!!), lil angsty, f!reader, cheating, teasing, choking, crying, daddy kink, hate fuck -> kinda toxic soft fuck, brat taming, oral m!receiving, good dialogue shitty writing

i wrote this in 3 hrs bc hyperfixation (song i listened to) like its smut but is it the type of smut u get off to? probably not.

i don't understand, whats a girl gotta do to get a good lay around here???? thx

11:14 PM • 07/01/21

your tweet was not a rhetorical question. your tweet was supposed to get a few fun dms. your tweet was supposed to blow up just a little bit. your tweet was not supposed to entice your ex-boyfriend to message you for the first time in over a year, and it definitely wasn't supposed to lead to him texting your number that you thought he no longer had, and it absolutely positively 100% was not supposed to lead to you hooking up.

not that it was an issue for you, but it probably would be an issue for his girlfriend.

//

the dm shocked you, because how could it not after going so long only knowing about atsumu through the news and social media? his girlfriend was the entire reason two of you stopped talking when you did, but it wasn't even her doing. atsumu chose to break off contact all on his own, some bullshit about trust and her being really good for him.

and they were still together, you saw their anniversary post less than a week ago. and yet there he was.

and yet there he was texting back and forth with you for the better half of an hour before making the short drive over to your place.

and yet here he is, one hand ghosting over your lower back, other hand bracing the under side of your thigh, hot breath on your collar bones despite the fact that he had a girlfriend and despite the fact that you shattered his heart into a million pieces

//

he’s made small talk, asked you how you’ve been with an unease that he didn’t try hard enough to hide, leaned against the couch, but hasn’t actually sat.

“hey, calm down or i really will call your brother, always the calmer one.”

“and, yet, ya didn’t date him,” he quips back. the air is still for a moment, settling alongside the realization. you’d acknowledged it through text, but this was different. it slipped out easily, an impulsive rebuttal to a joke made numerous times before, a passing recollection and acknowledgment of the very reason he shouldn’t be here in the first place.

“well, no, obviously not, i’ve got a thing for blondes,” you shrug and he laughs, short and breathy. it feels almost humoring, but then you watch his shoulders slump, laxing into a normal state for the first time since he’s been here.

“a thing for blondes who actually sit down on the couch instead of leaning against them,” you gesture towards the middle of the sofa.

“what about you?” he asks, abiding anyways and taking a seat perfectly where your eyes landed, not enough room on either side of him for you to fit.

“where do you expect me to sit?” you ask right back, raising your eyebrows, stepping towards him anyway despite your teasing adversity.

he only glances down at his lap, lifting his hands from their clasped position, and motioning towards himself. you crawl into his lap, one knee dipping into the cushion on either side of him.

“what, did you miss me that much?” you tease, placing your hands overtop of his, pulling them lazily along until they're resting on your ass, fingertips tucked politely under the hem of your underwear. there's hesitance in his movements even with your guiding help.

"you don't have to be gentle with me, y'know." you tilt your head to the side, pushing backwards until you can feel resistance, until you can feel his fingers spread apart, taking as much of you into his hands as he can and digging his dull fingernails into your flesh. "i know you've probably gone soft a bit, huh? with your girlfriend and all"

his entire body tenses, some sort of backlash bubbling up in the discomfort, and you know that backlash is probably in the form of a shitty comment at your expense.

so you don't let it leave his throat, closing the gap and slipping your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his before he can make an excuse or put you down. you did it to catch him off guard, but he tastes so good, so familiar even though so much time has passed that you can't help but moan into the kiss.

and fuck is his hair softer than you remember. his hands are bigger than you remember and his stomach is more rigid than you remember and he's stronger than you remember, and you pull away from the kiss now because you're out of breath and it's probably been enough time for him to swallow whatever shitty thing he was going to say and he's so much fucking prettier than you remember.

when did he get this pretty?

the softness of your eyes is mirrored in his, a reflection of rediscovery, relearning things that you don't remember forgetting. and there's this feeling that's burning in your core, a mixture of emotions, one of them you can't put your finger on, but you know you want to ignore.

"can you please take your shirt off, i haven't fucked anyone as ripped as you in a while and i kinda miss it." fingers running along the hem, you tug upwards gently.

"is that the only reason i'm here?" he jeers, but leans forward anyway.

"you know why you're here." before you've thrown his shirt into a crumpled pile on the floor, he's already wrapped both of his arms around your waist, picking you up only momentarily before sitting you down on the edge of the couch.

"i do," he says, and if you weren't you, if you hadn't known atsumu for as long as you have, you wouldn't have been able to recognize him after that drastic change in tone with that sultry look in his eyes as he drops to the floor, nudging your legs apart and smirking up at you. "i know exactly why i'm here, which is why it's kinda weird that you've had such a bitter, snarky mouth all night."

if that damned smirk and stupid tone didn't warm you right up, this would've done just fine on it's own. instead, it just added to the involuntary reactions you were feeling all over your body, cheeks burning, fingers restless against the muscle of your thigh, peering down at atsumu as he toyed with your panties, softly, abruptly, there and then not as his grasp moves to the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric up as far as he can reach, running his palm over freshly exposed skin.

you finish the motion, brushing your fingers over his as you throw your shirt onto the cushion next to you.

"why don't ya ask nicely if i'll eat ya, princess?"

he kisses the insides of your thighs and you wonder if he remembered how sensitive they are or if it's just a coincidence.

but it doesn't matter how badly you want it, how many nights you've spent lying awake thinking about his stupid fucking tongue, wishing that there was some sort of toy that could replicate how disgustingly good it felt, because the question enters your mind and you want so badly to knock that smirk off his face.

"do you call her princess too or is that reserved just for me?"

and it does, knock the smirk off his face that is, but only for a moment. he tsks, shaking his head as he pushes himself up from the ground. regret is already seeping in as you squeeze your thighs together. your pussy is already soaked and you were about to get everything you've been missing for the past 3 years.

now, instead, atsumu is towering over you palming himself through his shorts and talking down to you in a way that makes you even wetter, "we gotta do something about that ungrateful little mouth of yers, don't we?"

"if you're not going to eat me out, won't you at least answer my question?" you ask, digging yourself deeper into this disobedient hole you're finding yourself in.

he reaches out so quickly that you almost flinch, but you trust him too much for that. he laces his fingers into your hair forming a tight fist at the base of your head, directing your eyes to him as he steps forward between your legs, spreading them apart with his shins. "the answer would probably just go to your head."

absolutely nothing could stop the smile that spread across your face, corners upturning and spanning as far as possible as you greedily think of this pet name saved just for you.

"what else did you save only for me, tsumu?" you ask, scooching forwards, legs spreading wider, pressing against the outsides of his calves. you're far too excited about the effects you've had on him and his relationship. as the sentence leaves your mouth, as the nickname falls so easily off of your tongue, you see his strong exterior falter for a fraction of a second. "she doesn't get to call you tsumu?"

the fist in your hair gets tighter, so tight that you can feel his hand start to shake and there's a darkness in his eyes that wasn't there before, a darkness that tells you he's been timid up until this point, a darkness that you probably shouldn't provoke, but it's been a long time since you've had this much fun.

"been awhile since you've had a brat to tame, hasn't it?" you whisper, blinking away the tears that have collected in the corners of your eyes.

"i think yer beyond being brat at this point," he huffs, no longer waiting for your next move. he uses one hand to push down his shorts, keeping a tight grasp on your head, not letting you move an inch and then guides your head towards his cock. "put yer mouth to good use or i swear to god you won't be able to talk for four days."

it sounds like an option, but it's not. he doesn't give you the chance to misbehave again. he drags the head of his cock on your bottom lip, precome smearing against it before he presses the tip into your mouth.

you're staring up at him because you've missed this so much, the concentration on his face, this control that he has over you, this underlying distain for the way you act out. he's not even looking you in the eyes, staring past you at the way his cock disappears between your lips.

"fuck, take it," he grunts, thrusting in and out of your mouth slowly, spit drooling down your chin as they start getting faster, head prodding at the back of your throat.

your mouth feels so full, head bobbing with his wreckless thrusts until he pulls you completely onto his cock, your lips wrapped around the base, the length of his fat cock perfectly surrounded by your tight throat, and then he holds you there. seconds tick by and your eyes flutter closed and the only sensation you can take in is the light throbbing of his cock.

"isn't this so much better? actually being useful for once," he sneers, but you can barely hear him as you focus on just staying conscious. his fingers skim over your neck, wrapping around the bulge he's created, balls twitching against your chin. you bring your hands up to his thighs, fingers digging into the muscle as you reach your limit, head fogging and throat burning.

he pulls you off of his cock and you only catch a glimpse of how satisfied he looks as you gasp for air, swallowing just to feel your throat void of something. "god yer lucky i wanna be inside of ya so fucking bad now or i would cum down that pretty throat of yers so fast."

you're still regaining your composure as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them down your thighs, cock throbbing as he watches the string of wetness connecting your pussy and your panties. he presses harsh, rushed kisses into the side of your jaw, trailing down until he can’t reach any further.

you want to say something, anything to put him back in his place, to make him flustered again, but you just can't think, still drunk on the feeling of choking on his big fucking cock.

the only thing that comes out is, "please, fuck me."

he laughs, honest to god, throws his head back and laughs as he lines himself up with you, rubbing the tip between your pretty slick lips and pressing his hips forward just enough to feel your hole start to stretch for his head. "not so bratty, now, are ya?"

you shake your head because it doesn't matter anymore how much you missed acting out just so he would put you in your place, you were there. you were exactly where he wanted you and fuck, did you want him.

"ask nicely," he taunts, a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he pushes his luck as far as he can take it.

you roll your hips, desperate to feel any part of him. "please, daddy."

"f-fuck," he stammers, grin completely gone, precome leaking from the slit of his twitching cock, harsh resolve crumbling over a single word. "fuck, again." he presses his hips forward, sliding inside of you inch by inch.

and it hits you.

"she doesn't call you daddy, either?" you ask, narrowing your eyes, some sort of clarity replacing these pathetic thoughts.

when you were with him, you used the name religiously, in and out of the bedroom. sometimes to get what you wanted and other times just to watch him tense up. and now his life was void of the weight that name carried and that didn’t sit with you right. poise and bite fill you almost as quickly as it left you, "you saved a lot of things just for me, didn't you?"

he doesn't reply, silent as he places a hand on your shoulder and thrusts completely inside of you, hips pressed against the insides of your thighs as the breath is knocked completely out of your lungs. he's trying to prove that he has control over you still, digging into you so brutally that he knows you'll think of him later. and it feels so fucking good and you feel so fucking full and it would be so easy to just shut your mouth and take it, but it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.

“fuck, there’s no way that you’re this rough with her,” you almost laugh, settling on a telling smirk instead, “mmm but there’s also no way that you get this hard for her.”

each time he fucks into you, the sound and the sting of his hips smacking against the insides of your thighs gets harsher. you know that he’s doing it to shut you up, to make you forget about whatever it is that’s on your mind and focus on how good it feels or how much it hurts, but it’s really just proving your point.

his hands are roaming, moving from place to place, trying to find a permanent spot to root, one that gives him the most control. in the process, he’s leaving marks all over you, red spots, crescent-shaped indents, freshly forming bruises, and the thought of finding them in the coming days is driving you insane.

you can feel the stretch, closing your eyes to savor the feeling, quiet for a moment, the sound of your dripping pussy clenching around him filling the room. you don’t want to admit it, how quickly he’s gotten you so close, but you’re sure he can feel it in the way that you’re gripping onto him even tighter.

you snake your hand down between your legs, rubbing sloppy circles into your clit as he continually pounds into you. you’re so fucking close, can feel that familiar heat rising to your core, your body growing more sensitive.

“makes sense you wanted to come fuck me,” you mumble, “bet you haven’t gotten off really good in a long time, right, daddy?”

he’s unapologetic in the way he lets it affect him this time, grip getting tighter, cock slamming into you, not because he wants to teach you a lesson, but because he can’t help it.

“not without my tight cunt and dirty mouth, huh, daddy?” it’s somehow fucking with him even more as your voice gets scratchier, needier, softer from how close you are. “rub my messy pussy, daddy, gonna cum.”

your arms are weak as you hang them around atsumu’s neck, holding onto him desperately because you know you’re going to need it while you cum. his calloused fingers replace yours, rougher, thicker, harder, faster rubbing over your swollen clit. “cum all over daddy’s cock, princess.”

god, you’re just as fucked as he is hearing that name bounce off the walls and right back to you, that name that’s just for you. you wrap your legs around his lower back, pulling him into you because you need to feel every fucking inch, wanna coat his entire cock with your cum, have to, cumming from how deep he is inside of you, and then from the thought of her unknowingly tasting you on it.

“good girl, fuck, yer tight.”

you stare up at him with half-lidded post-orgasm eyes and an innocently dopey smile on your face, “tighter than her?” you look so fucking cute, sensitive walls hugging his length, so fucking happy and blissed out that the answer slips right out.

“yes, fuck, missed yer cunt so much.”

you move to sit up, push your hand into his shoulder and motion to the couch. when he moves, you move with him, not wanting to feel empty for a second longer than you have to.

seated completely on his cock, he’s even deeper inside of you and you want to feel this full forever. you don’t even want to move, resting your forehead against his. “tell me something, tsumu, and be honest.” he doesn’t offer any sort of reply, verbal or otherwise.

“do you think of me sometimes when you fuck her?” you start moving, sitting up straight as you pull yourself off his cock almost completely before slamming back down. “do you wish she was me? do you almost say my name when she cums because she almost gets as tight as i am?”

“you don’t need to answer, tsumu, can see it all over your face,” you continue, hand placed firmly on his chest for leverage as you fucked yourself harder on his cock.

“yer a fucking bitch. ya haven’t changed at all,” he breathes, and it hurts way less than it probably should, the tone of his voice and the shock on his face, but you can feel him inside of you, you can feel his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath your palm. he’s throbbing with every shitty question, twitching at every mention of how much better you are than her, grunting under his breath whenever you point out one of his slip ups. he fucking loves it and you know him too well not to notice it.

“no, i have, it’s just not exactly what you wanted when you texted me. you wanted a tight brat to bruise and choke, didn’t you?” you ask, tilting your jaw upwards, exposing your neck. “fucking do it then, but don’t whine about the fact that this little brat is better than your girlfriend.”

his hands are still planted loosely on your hips, guiding your motions, helping you set a pace. he’s not reaching for what you’re so graciously offering him.

“don’t fucking kid yourself. you can’t get off to a nice girl who gives you exactly what you want, can you, tsumu?” you glare down at him, no longer on display, leaning towards him so you can talk through gritted teeth. “i’m a fucking bitch because it’s exactly what you want, none of that ‘really good for you’ bullshit.”

he lifts his hips, thrusting up to meet you as you slide down his cock. it’s brutal, the slapping of your tender skin against his toned thighs, and it feels so good, hurts so good that you don’t even remember what you were saying. and he doesn’t slow down. he keeps getting faster, keeps going deeper, and you’re starting to think that he’s realizing how much he likes it, the shitty way that you talk to him, that he actually missed it.

“fuck you.”

“am i wrong, baby? that’s why you’re with me right now and not her.” it leaves your mouth without much thought. you can’t think much about anything with the way he’s fucking you.

“i didn’t come here to talk about my girlfriend all night,” he bites.

“right, but-” you’re stopped in the middle of your sentence, two hands wrapping around your throat, long fingers pressing into your windpipe. his eyes are deadlocked on yours as he squeezes gently, testing the waters.

you rest your hand on his wrist, smiling as best you can, hoping you look pretty enough in his grasp as you push your neck further into his hold and the look on his face is one that you want to capture forever. it proves your point even further, this notion of atsumu and his nice sex life and his girlfriend that’s really good for him, because when’s the last time that atsumu has been with someone who just wanted to be treated like shit?

when’s the last time that atsumu’s been treated like shit?

you roll your eyes back in your head, chin towards the ceiling, lack of oxygen only heightening every inch of your skin that’s in contact with him before bringing your line of sight back down to his peering eyes.

your voice is choked, hoarse, sparse as the words struggle to leave, only strong enough for him to hear if he’s really paying attention. “fuck, atsumu, you’re so fucking big, so fucking perfect, you’re a fucking god, fuck me so good, thank you so much, i wish i never broke up with you.”

he doesn’t say a word, swallows whatever noise or comeback was coming up his throat, and blinks at you. fucked out expression, gasping for the return of the air you just spent, but it’s all worth it. his fists are closing, squeezing to stop you or to dare you to fight back, you’re not completely sure, but the second that your lungs have filled up just enough to mutter three more words, you do.

“is that better?”

you wait, assured and confident that whatever he does next will be some dramatic act to prove something to you and to himself, to make you regret your outlash, to make you actually believe the sarcastic statement you just spewed.

atsumu always did surprise you.

“it is,” he grunts, hands placed back onto to your waist, but they’re delicate now, tender almost as he runs the pads of his fingertips over your hipbones. “tell me how much you missed me, doll.”

there were so many ways you could fuck with him, so many things you could say to keep up this shitty charade, you know there are, you know they exist, but you can’t think of a single one. you open your mouth and nothing comes out save for tiny, quivering breaths and noises that were beyond your control.

“tell me.” harsher than before, but with an underlying care that made your heart flutter.

“sometimes, i do miss you,” you admit, and that’s exactly what it is, an admittance, something that’s circled in your brain but has never left your mouth, not even to the empty walls of your room. an absurd part of you hope he picks up on the lack of past tense.

he’s known you for too long, listened to you too well, gotten too deep despite the fight you put up to not hear how genuine this senseless little sentence is coming out of your mouth. “really late at night, lonely in my bed, wondering why i let you go.”

and, fuck, it’s so stupid, not what you bargained for at all, but you want to feel closer to him, need to feel him completely against you because his skin is warm in a way that you’ve haven’t been able to replicate and maybe this is just a long-winded ploy to make you regret this attitude you’ve adopted for the night, but it’s working and you don’t care.

you’d like to think that he could see it on every feature, in every movement and action, this overwhelming need of yours for him to hold you, to be closer than he is right now even as he’s buried inside of you, because he does. he runs his hands up your back, crosses them over one another and braces you with his arms, mouth against your ear, “tell me more, pretty.”

and you listen. not because he’s fucking you into submission or because he has this caustic influence on you, but because you want to and because he deserves to know these thoughts of remorse and guilt that have been weighing heavy since the minute you left.

“think about you a lot,” you mutter into his chest, “was really shitty to you, couldn’t stop thinking about the version of our break up that you told everyone, and now i see you on my feed and think about if that were me celebrating an anniversary with you at some gross fancy dinner.”

your muscles have relaxed, movements ceased, leaning fully into atsumu as he thrusted up into you leisurely, focusing instead on the snap of his hips and closeness between the two of you. “wanted to reach out to apologize or to fuck you or just to hear your voice, but i didn’t.”

it’s heavy and not necessarily the dirty talk that you thought would be coming out of your mouth tonight, but it’s also not stopping and he’s not telling you to stop. “missed your voice and your face and your hands and your warmth and how good you are to me. and i really fucking needed this, tsumu, fuck i needed you so bad.”

you hope, with everything in you, that he’s understanding everything you’re saying, that he’s perceiving it all as the truth, that he’ll see that you actually have changed, finally ready to tell him all of the things he wanted to hear back then, all the things he tried to get out of you before you broke his heart. but have you really changed? are you saying these things so that he’ll know the truth or so he won’t be able to stop thinking about you while he’s with her?

your chest feels tight, heart racing, air leaving your lungs as shaky as your limbs, in desperate need of some sort of redirection. you’re silent for a few moments, letting the room fill with his shallow breaths and striking skin, composing yourself and fixating on atsumu’s steady pace.

curling your fingers against his stomach, you move in time with him once again, lifting yourself as he pulls away and slamming down as he thrusts upwards. you don’t know if you’ve really changed or what the real motivation behind inviting atsumu over tonight was, but you know exactly what you’ve been craving, not just in these last few hours, but for years.

you brush your cheek against his, leaning forward to whisper directly into his ear so that the feeling of your breath and the soft cadence of your voice never leave his memory.

“does she let you cum inside, tsumu?”

his response is visceral, instinctive, hips stuttering, failing to smoothly meet the backs of your thighs as his head collides with your shoulder, too heavy with swarming thoughts and poor self control to make any audible noise that’s not an almost animalistic grunt.

kiss after soft kiss is pressed into his jawline, down his chest, fingers interlocked behind his neck, pulling yourself closer and closer until you can feel his destructive heartbeat combatting your own.

“does she let you pump her full of cum, daddy?”

he can’t form a verbal response, groaning into your shoulder as he fucks into you with abandon, no longer as a power trip or a control tactic, just using you to get off. you wanted him to use you to get off. he’s so fucking wrecked beneath you, eyes screwed tight as he moves on compulsion alone, but you knew how pretty he sounded when he was about to cum, whiny and grateful and you refused to let this moment slip away.

“i know how much you loved filling me with your load, tsumu, feeling my pussy get all creamy, milking your fat cock into my greedy little hole. you went crazy for it, would always pump your thick seed into me until it spilled out all over your cock, made me feel so full, so pretty,” you ramble into his skin.

“baby, do you still get to feel that? does she let you unload so deep, tsumu?” your questions are coming out more haphazardly than anything else you’ve said and you know the answer, but you’re craving the sound. “or did you save that all for me too?”

“saved it for ya,” he mumbles, throat hoarse, cock pulsing against your walls, needy, sloppy kisses placed wherever he can reach.

“yeah? tell me, baby, saved it all for me, couldn’t cum in a pussy that wasn't made just for you? needed me, right, baby?”

“needed you, fuck, only you, need only you,” he moans and it’s so perfectly desperate and everything you need it to be.

“gonna cum, baby, gonna cum for you, will you cum for me? will you cum inside me, tsumu, please?” you know he can tell how close you are, can feel how tightly you’re squeezing him, how dripping wet you are, can hear your incessant, thoughtless ramblings.

“i’m gonna fill you, pretty, wanna feel you cum on my cock while i fill you, okay?”

you nod against his chest, core tight, waiting, waiting, his hips driving upwards faster, slamming you down harder until his movements stutter, a guttural groan falling upon your ears before feeling his cock pulse inside of you, rope after rope of thick cum painting your insides, and, fuck, you missed this.

you let go, collapsing against atsumu entirely as you cum around his cock, pussy clenching as he lazily thrusts into you, driving you through your orgasm and fucking his cum deeper inside of you, coating his entire length.

when his movements stop, when his hips stop moving and the grunting is replaced with shallow breaths that turn into normal breaths, neither of you move. your chests are rising and falling in time and you’re starting to feel gross the longer you sit in it, but you don’t want to move. you can’t move. the things that you’ve said might feel too real if you move from this position. and that doesn’t make any sense, but you don’t want to chance it. you feel gross, but also better than you have in a while and then he rubs a small circle into your lower back just gently enough for you to notice, just softly enough to send shivers up your spine, and you know that you can’t be in this position another second.

//

being in the same bathroom as atsumu, legs spread, sitting in your bathtub, cleaning up the mess he’s made while he uses crumpled up pieces of toilet paper to clean up the mess you’ve (mostly he’s) made is weirdly domestic in the most comforting way. it’s not awkward, but some part of you wishes it was because the seconds keep ticking on and the regret isn’t seeping in, not just about tonight, but about anything you’ve said.

it’s mostly silent save for atmospheric noises that couldn’t be helped and you wish that you were wishing someone would say something.

but you clean without a word and so does he and when you stand up, he offers you a hand to step over the lip of the tub and he passes you a dry towel from where you keep them under the sink. he uses your toothbrush without even asking and then preps it for you to use and you thank him when he hands it to you.

you walk back with him to your room and he’s one step ahead of you because he could find your bedroom blindfolded and you get changed in front of him and it’s not one of those moments where you get embarrassed and then feel dumb about getting embarrassed, you just feel at home.

“i meant it, by the way, i miss you sometimes,” you shake your head, “no, that’s a lie, i miss you a lot.” you’re starting to feel antsy now, missing the comfortable silence because now you’re talking about uncomfortable feelings while they’re not mindlessly spilling out of you.

your fingers are tingling, heart furiously beating in your ears as you continue, “and nights like tonight make me miss you more than i thought was possible, more than they probably should for how long i’ve been without you, but i think you bring out a really shitty side of me.”

“i think i don’t have to,” he says, rushing to get it out of his throat before he’s too scared to say it, “i think i remind you of how you used to be, but that’s not how you are now.” you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. “i think we could try again and i could show you that it’s not true.”

“you don’t...,” you start, voice diminishing into silence, because what do you say to that?

“because you’re right, why else am i here with you tonight and not her?” he asks, closing the gap between the two of you, not touching you, just getting closer.

“tsumu…,” you start again, voice diminishing into silence again, because what do you say to that?

“i don’t let her call me that because i couldn’t bear the sound of it not coming from you.”

you take a step back, head spinning from a single sentence despite only solidifying a conclusion you had already come to all on your own. “i think maybe you should go home to your girlfriend before she notices you’re missing.”

“let me stay the night,” he blurts, hand spanning out to grasp your shoulder, your arm, wherever his reach would land.

it comes out of your mouth like a warning, imploring him to tread careful, “tsumu.”

but he just keeps pressing forward, faster, harder, recklessly, heedless and senseless, “please, yn, please, if this is the last time i ever get to talk to you, to see you standing in front of me where i can do this,” his hand floats up, fingers caressing your cheek, curling against your jaw and you melt into how inviting and warm his touch is, “then just let me savor it.”

the thought of this being your last night together hits you, hard, like you’ve been run over by a train, and you didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. you’re convinced it feels worse than when you left him the first time. you don’t want it to be the last time.

“last time, huh?” you ask. with how close he is and the hold he has on you, you know that he can feel the instability in your voice, see the hesitance in your features.

“i mean,” he pulls you into him, arms wrapping tightly around you so that you can feel the vibrations of his laugh, “how well did that work last time?”

“if i see you again, i’ll want to see you again, and again, and again,” you admit, soaking in the discomfort of vulnerability before asking, “is that okay?”

“that’s all i want.”

yamaguchi isnt a hufflepuff JUST because hes loyal hes also a *hard worker*  and *dedicated* 

im not against hcing him as a slytherin but i think the outright rejection of him as a hufflepuff is rooted in ppl caring too much about subversion that it becomes more important than actual analysis 

(P.S. …suga is definitely a hufflepuff and slytherin suga, unlike slytherin yama, is PURELY the product of people trying too hard to be subversive/subvert popular fanon)