It Was Not Often When You Two Had Arguments, But Oh Boy..when You Did. You Are Angrily Yelling At Him.

mimi i'm 100% sure u made me into a thirsty bitch for tsumu, like i'd read the fics and they were good! but idk he just never peaked my interest outside of that but today...idk i saw a post abt baby tsumu on twitter and i immediately thought what it'd be like with me in a mating press and him just going balls deep to make tiny tsumus sjfbdbfjshs breeding kink go brrrr😳

he would fill you up so good too, he’d hold you down and make sure you can feel every inch, sinking into you slow and deep to feel just how good your soft walls hug him tight. you tremble underneath him and dig your nails into his shoulders as he bottoms out, full, massive balls resting against you. 

“that’s my girl, look at that, you took it all,” he breathes, just barely starting to thrust in and out, wanting to savour the way your cunt throbs around him when he’s fully buried inside you. “squeezing me so tight, baby,” atsumu groans, “look at me.”

your eyes flutter open to dark, honeyed eyes, lidded and searching for any signs of hesitation in your expression. “pretty.” 

atsumu starts to pull out slowly, hissing through his teeth and shuddering when he stops halfway through his movement, fingers pressing into the backs of your thighs. “relax, you’re—ahh—can barely move, shit.” 

“s-sorry, tsumu.” your apology comes out slurred as you shoot him a dazed smile. “guess you’re gonna have to stretch me out, then...”

excitement flashes through atsumu’s eyes at the challenge and he pushes your thighs back further, pulling out only to thrust back in sharply. “yeah?” you both moan on the way back in, atsumu repeating the movement over and over until you’re begging, pleading for him to just fuck you already.

“pretty girl wants to get fucked, huh? i’ll do ya one better, baby.” atsumu finds his rhythm and thrusts into you, his slightly curved cock slamming right into your g-spot with every push of his hips. “gonna breed this hungry cunt,” he pants, speeding up, “fill your little womb up with cum and make you a mommy for me, yeah? how’s that sound?”   

Imagine you’ve had a crush on Umemiya for two years now, but he only sees you as a friend. He’s really nice to you, but he has no idea you like him that way and so it never occurs to him to see you in a romantic or sexual light. 

One day he and Hiragi run into you in town and after speaking to them for a few minutes, you walk off. Hiragi sighs and says, “I feel sorry for her, having a crush on a clueless guy like you.”

Ume is shocked. “Wait, what?”

After learning this, he starts paying more attention to you, watching more closely how you behave around him compared to other people. You giggle more around him, tuck strands of hair behind your ear, smile more, seem a little shy and self conscious when he’s in the room. 

For the past few years, Ume has been running a little summer camp in the woods for the kids in town, and this year he asks if you’d like to come with him and his friends to help get the camp cleaned up and ready for the kids. It’s a good chance to spend some time with you, and you happily accept. 

Once you’re there and the preparations start, it seems like everything you do turns him on without you even realizing it. 

First it was you sitting in the floor of the common room, polishing an end table. You had the table upside down while you used a rag to clean the legs. Ume watched your small, delicate hand gliding up and down the thick round table legs, a blush creeping onto his face. 

Next it was you going into the woods to gather some sticks to use for the nightly camp fire. He followed a few minutes later to help, only to find you repeatedly bending over to pick up sticks, your denim shorts riding up, your plump, juicy ass in the air. The way you got all flustered and nervous when you noticed him behind you was just too cute. 

A day later you passed out popsicles to all the volunteers, then sat down on some wooden steps a few feet away from Ume. He watched, positively transfixed, as you licked and sucked on your popsicle, his eyes glued to your mouth as he imagined you doing that to his cock instead of your frozen cherry treat. 

That night he was finishing up some chores and walking back to his cabin when he heard singing. Following the sound to your cabin, he peeked in the window out of curiosity. He found you dancing around the room in nothing but a short T-shirt and panties, singing along with the music blaring from your phone. You looked so sweet and adorable, but mostly you just looked hot as fuck as your tits bounced against the thin fabric of your shirt. 

By the time you work up the courage to confess your feelings on the last night before the kids arrive, he’s so ready to bend you over the nearest table and fuck your brains out that he thinks he might explode. 

at your service | miya atsumu

pairing: atsumu x reader

warnings: 18+ smut, pwp, reader in a maid outfit, maid roleplay, spanking, exhibitionism, power dynamics, praise, degradation, humiliation, a sprinkle of misogyny, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, a looot of dirty talk, reader calls atsumu sir, squirting, cumplay 

word count: 1086

author’s note: i think atsumu is into maid girls ♪(´▽｀)

You know you’re fully exposed, humiliated by the thought of your neighbours seeing the blissed-out expression on your face—your bare breasts pressed up against the glass with every shallow thrust. It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but it only adds to the wetness dripping down Atsumu’s length.

Keep reading

: ̗̀➛ rough.

✎ pairing: murasakibara atsushi x reader

✎ word count: 1,141

✎ nsfw, smut, explicit content

Murasakibara doesn’t get intense in bed often. He doesnt have to. He is already so massive that minimal effort is enough to completely wear you out. The problems start when he does get intense in bed.

After the Seirin game, there was no stopping him. No talking him down or trying to calm him. He was frustrated and irritated and he needed to vent. And there you were, a convenient target.

The headboard creaked and groaned in protest as it banged against the wall. The bed was probably on its last legs. A little more and it would break down. The noise it was making was already alarming in itself. You however, could give less of a shit. Not when you could barely breathe.

“Atsushi!” You wailed, trying everything in your power to squirm away from the relentless pounding your pussy was taking at the hands of your 6’10” boyfriend. Your lungs rushed to catch up and your muscles seized, toes curling. The wet slapping of skin was a positively pornographic sound. In the dim light, your body shone with sweat, tears, drool and your own juices, unable to do anything except cry and take his huge cock. This was a hard enough feat on your good days, but today? Atsushi had thrown you onto the bed and ripped your clothes off, no prep and no warning, before bullying his cock into your tiny pussy and proceeding to fuck you into the mattress.

All he did was grunt in response, hair obscuring his face from you, one hand holding your wrists tight over your head, while the other groped roughly at your breast, pinching and pulling your nipple so hard it made you shriek. His massive frame pressed down on your torso, leaving you with little room to breathe and even less room to move. His fast and trembling breath hit your cheek, the only sign that he was affected by this like you were. Your legs shook, twitching in the air as you took everything you got, feet kicking.

“Atsushi, please, slow-” you weeped. “Slow down.”

A rough hand reached up, gathering your hair and tugging hard enough to make you arch up. His pace quickened even more and you screamed.

“Silly girl,” he groaned, mouthing and licking at your throat before biting down hard. Your eyes rolled up into your head. “No ‘going slow’ today. I’m going to crush you, little bug. And you’re going to take everything I give you. Okay~?”

His singsong drawling voice was throwing you off. No one would guess he was completely wrecking you by the way he spoke. The only sign was the slightly hoarse tone of his voice. And here you were, feeling like your very nerves were being ripped from your body. Your core was singing in bliss, nearly purring when he hit just the right spot, the head of his cock pressing so deliciously inside you with each thrust it made fresh tears leak from your lash line.

You didn’t even register when he pulled out and flipped you over, the room spinning in your vision as he manhandled your hands behind your back. One strong hand gripped your wrists tight while the other wound into your hair, pushing you down until your cheek was squished into the mattress. You gasped when he entered you again and resumed his brutal pace. The new angles had you moaning all over again, your spine tingling. Your pussy burned and your thighs ached. Tears trickled down the bridge of your nose and dripped onto the sheets, mixing with the drool that ran down the corner of your mouth. The filthy squelch of his cock entering you made your face heat up, fueling every dirty desire you had ever dreamed of.

Minutes later you felt the wonderful ball in your stomach tighten, threatening to burst. Eyes squirming shut at the overwhelming feeling. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth.

“Atsu….. I’m gonna,,, I’m-” You babbled nonsensically, but your boyfriend seemed to understand, picking up his pace until you were screaming and clenching around him, stars bursting under your eyelids as your ears rang.

The last thing you heard was the low groan behind you as Atsushi’s hips stuttered, and the last thing you felt was warmth fill your core as he painted your insides white.

…………………

When you came to, you registered how cozy you felt, warm and relaxed, your back pressed into something firm while the sloshing sounds of water filled your ears. All was still and steady around you, eerily so. Your eyes blinked open slowly, as if the tiniest action was enough to fatigue you, and you smiled when you saw the pristine white tiles of your bathroom wall in front of you. You turned your head so your nose pressed into the side of Atsushi’s neck, inhaling his scent deeply.

“You’re awake,” he mumbled through a full mouth, making you pull back to look up at him. His cheeks bulged out, jaw moving as he munched on whatever he was eating. You followed the movement of his hand as he reached out to the small table beside the bathtub, dipping into a transparent bowl that you could see was filled with mini Snickers bars. You sighed and relaxed into him again, feeling him slide his other arm around your waist to steady you. His legs stretched out on either side of you and toes comically peeked out of the water on the other side.

The water around you was letting out gentle wafts of fragrant steam, and you observed that Atsushi had really gone all out this time. Bath salts tickled your skin and a scented candle gently flickered on the shelf above the tub. You felt something poke at your lips and you opened your mouth, allowing your boyfriend to feed you whatever snacks he had laid out on the table. You let the sweet chocolate melt into your mouth.

“How long have we been here?” You asked, eyes already drooping. You felt his muscles shift behind you, indicating that he was shrugging.

“Maybe ten minutes.” He hummed, looping both arms around you and pulling his legs up so he could squeeze you between his hold. You smiled and let him. The press felt nice against your exhausted limbs. You shivered when Atsushi pressed a wet kiss into your bare shoulder, nibbling lightly at the skin.

“You did good today. Sorry I went too far.”

You giggled and turned your head to look into his eyes, wet hand reaching up to thumb affectionately at the little crinkles around them. “Are you kidding? I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”

He pressed his face into the side of your head, hair tickling your nose as you laughed, unable to muster the energy to push him away.

giving them head.

featuring: Sakura Haruka, Kaji Ren

contains: gn reader, bl*wjobs, begging, facef*cking, sub!sakura, dom!kaji

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 600

masterlist

Sakura Haruka

Sakura’s never been good at expressing himself verbally, the words somehow getting stuck at the back of his throat every time he tries. But his emotions are written on his face, easy for you to read.

As you drag your tongue up his shaft, licking along the thick vein there, your eyes locked onto Sakura’s, you can see exactly what he’s thinking. His cheeks and nose are flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his lips slightly apart. You swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and he inhales sharply, his fingers tangling messily in your hair.

“Does that feel good, Haru?” you ask teasingly, pressing a chaste kiss against the underside of his tip and feeling his cock twitch in response.

“Mhm,” is all Sakura can say, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

He can’t look away from you, doesn’t want to even for a second. You lick up the precum he’s oozing and Sakura lets out a whimper, his hips thrusting up. You’re teasing him, making his cock ache with need as your tongue darts out again.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” you instruct him softly.

“Nnh, fuck,” Sakura grunts, hips bucking again, chasing your lips as you pull back slightly. “Wanna fuck your mouth. Please.”

“Like this?”

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck gently. Sakura’s eyes close briefly.

“Need more, please, please, baby,” he whimpers. “Need to cum in your mouth, please let me cum in your mouth.”

His begging makes you smile so you decide to give him what he wants.

“That’s a good boy,” you coo, feeling his cock throb against your tongue at your words as you slide him all the way in.

Kaji Ren

One of Kaji’s favourite ways to release stress is to take it out on your mouth.

You’re such a good girl for him, kneeling so obediently between his legs as his hands grip the back of your head. He pulls your hair up into a loose ponytail keeping it out of your way as he holds your head in place and fucks up into your mouth.

Your hands are splayed on his thighs and you try to keep your jaw slack as Kaji facefucks you. His fat tip hits the back of your throat but you’ve practiced this a lot and have a good control over your gag reflex. Your eyes water as you focus on breathing through your nose while Kaji abuses your mouth.

“Fuckkkk,” he groans, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of your warm mouth and your throat constricting around him. “Such a perfect little slut.”

Kaji plants his feet, readjusting slightly before fucking your mouth even harder. You try to keep up with him, your tongue running along the underside of his cock, making him growl. You drool over him, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your mascara runs down your cheeks.

Kaji opens his eyes, drinking in the sight of you.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.”

Kaji’s cock twitches, his balls tightening. He can never last long when you let him do this. He pulls out quickly, long trails of saliva joining his shaft and tip with your lips. He wraps a fist around his cock and strokes himself quickly as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him.

Kaji cums with a loud groan, watching as he shoots thick ropes of cum onto your tongue. His hips buck, the strength of his orgasm making him lose aim slightly, and you feel his hot load land across your face. You don’t flinch, enjoying the feel of Kaji marking you like this. You smile up at him before making a show of swallowing his cum.

Kaji pulls you onto his lap, a cloth at the ready to clean you up as he peppers kisses across your shoulder and whispers thank yous in your ear.

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𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙴

most girls your age spend their summers hanging out with friends and enjoying the sun. you have a little bit of a different summer experience when you end up needing uncle issei's help. my one of two for the deal with the devil collab,, rhi ily, thank you so much for making this collab because i loved writing it

.wordc. 5.5k+ tw incest, uncle issei, age gap, panty sniffling, a lot of spit, size kink, teeny bit of anal, oral (receiving), organized crime, blood, death mentions

“Not too scary for you, is it?” the tall man in front chuckles, low voice bouncing around the cold, dim room with too much mirth to put you entirely at ease.

Really, it is too scary for you. This place is eerie, making your blood drum through your veins hard and fast with each step. You’re not sure how long you have to work here for the thought of dead bodies not to scare you, but the truth is that this wasn’t your first choice. Or your second, for that matter. Still, you put on a smile as he looks over his shoulder, dark eyes meeting yours with a sort of curiosity that you can sniff out from a mile away.

“I’ll handle,” you just breathe back, speeding up your steps a little to stay right in toe with him as you leave the dungy cellar and walk up the stairs, cringing a little at the sound of his shoes scraping the metal surface. “I’m just not too used to the idea of having so much,” you pause, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and swallowing, “death— around me.”

Your new boss hums, softly, deep, reaching out a hand to help you up the last step and back into the -now- much more comfortable feeling parlor that you’d been shaking in half an hour prior. Honestly, you could do worse for a boss. You’ve heard of some of the things that girls do to pay off family debts and this— this hardly seems like anything compared to that. This, you can handle. However begrudgingly. You slowly pick some dust from your sweater when he turns to you, avoiding that deep, calculating look just slightly.

You can tell that it’s ringing through his mind, knowing what brought you begging him, and how much of it makes you a good or a bad person. Everyone does when they find out that you’re this short on money, your mom is this far in debt. You’re just wondering what exactly it is that he sees when staring so intently at every twitch of your lips, every brush of your fingers. He finally drops his eyes from you when the ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth corners, picking up a pen and clicking it against the desk a few times as he moves to stand behind it.

“So, you’ve seen the place,” he catches your eye again, before running his long, pretty fingers through his curls. “What do you say? You still want to work here?” A small part of you hesitates. You know what this will entail. You know that when Kyoutani grunted under his breath that you could ask your uncle for a place to ‘work’, well meaning, it wouldn’t be one of the most savory of jobs. That there’d be a certain secrecy you’d be expected to keep. The thought of seeing it still scares you, makes rows of goosebumps break out on your arms, hidden under your flimsy sweater.

But you nod anyway, because this is all you got. And this is about as good as you’ll find the jobs, when it’s your situation. Matsukawa’s thick brow lifts just slightly, before the casual expression slips back on and he just shrugs, signing something onto the stack of papers in front of him. “‘Kay, sign here then. I need your name and your signature here and here.” And though your hand shakes a little writing down your name, the heavy hand on your shoulder is a welcome comfort.

“I won’t- see any- d-,” you clamp your mouth shut again, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks when he takes a breath, cutting in.

“Dead people?”

“You know what I mean,” you huff, looking from your wobbly handwriting on the page back to him, his hand squeezing some of the nerves out of you despite everything. Your mom’s brother is charming, he’s easy to talk to and despite his very, very intimidating appearance, there’s a joy to his expression, making him seem genuine enough. You lean into him a little more as you lower your voice. “You do the same thing Kentaro does, right? I won’t have to… shoot anybody?”

A moment of silence passes, before he laughs- really laughs, his shoulders shaking and face splitting into a blinding grin that takes you aback a little, as he continues entirely too long. You even find yourself smiling along, even though it’s mostly out of surprise at his reaction. When he quiets though, he straightens up and towers back over you to place a hand on your head, shaking his head a few times. “I don’t think you could even if you wanted to, little girl.” It’s paired with a slight narrowing of his eyes when you brush his hand off, but he smiles.

“No shooting, no stabbing, no torturing. You have my word. All I ask is that you don’t go downstairs without me. Piece of cake, hm?”

You hum back, and he smiles.

You’d never seen a lot of your mom’s younger brother, having long been shunned out of the family by the time you were old enough to understand that was something that families could do. Banish the apples falling too far from the tree, the inedible bunch. Your mom didn’t talk about him, and your dad never had anything good to say when he did. Most you’d gotten was a flash of his tall, muscular posture on a rainy day in May, his obsidian gaze meeting yours for a split second from the other side of the casket when your mom’s dad— his dad, was about to be put into the ground.

You watched your nieces and nephews, aunts, elders avoid him like the plague, whispering behind clasped palms. About his shady business, his men, a danger. When he’d come up to your parents after the ceremony, ignoring your mother’s displeased glares in favor of being civil, he leaned down to reach a tattooed hand your way with a sad smile and you shook it. “If you ever need anything,” he had mumbled, setting your mom off into a hateful whirlwind of insults, yanking your smaller hand back into hers. Matsukawa vashined from your parents’ conversation entirely after that, right up until they split and the letters kept coming, final notices, extended payments.

But you never forgot, and eventually— who else could you have gone to, if not him?

Turns out that Matsukawa’s word counts enough, to a certain degree. The pay is good, and though receiving a grieving bunch of people every few days isn’t easy, the days without much activity at all. Only sometimes he comes home with a darkness in his expression, mumbling for you to hand him a drink when he walks in, or sometimes grabbing your cheeks and pressing a drink into your hands with a grin, two opposite ends of the spectrum.

You don’t know if it is Mattsun honouring his promise or not, but it only happens twice the first month, where you have to rush to pull the curtains down as a bunch of men carry in an unmoving body from a car. They douse the floors with deep red blood, smelling of metal, sharp and pungent. It’d stain the floors if they weren’t already an ominous reddish brown, leaving you mopping up the evidence with your lip tucked hard between your teeth. Even when he comes back from the cellar and tells you to call him ‘uncle Issei’, he’s gentle with you, and you’re grateful for that too.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he only mumbles as he pats your head with that heavy, large hand that you shook once on a rainy day, and you give a tense smile in return. It doesn’t stay that easy though, and with each time more and more heavily tattooed men pass through the parlor and cast questioning glances your way, you get more and more uneasy about it. Uncle Issei clearly does as well, if the tight line his mouth pulls is anything to go by. The whispers sometimes go into full on talking about you right in front of your face— in front of the boss’ face, and it’s only a split second before that ugly, demanding flash glides over his features when that happens.

You’re just glad he doesn’t take it personally. Each time he comes back, blood splattered on his shirt and sitting stained under his nails, you can’t help but wonder if he ever will. If he’ll ever just turn around and set his eyes on you, hate you the way your mom hated him. If you’ll end up like blood under those nails some day as well. You hope not.

Days turn into months, cleaning up till late after hours, sitting in his office- next to him on the chair with his hand rubbing small circles into your back while he reads over paperwork you filled in. You paint his nails black, hands shaking slightly under his gaze in the small, cramped space of his crappy apartment bathroom. You let him drive you around the city after particularly long days, squeezing your hand in his, eventually daring to link pinkies on the drive back. Anything to pretend like he isn’t your executor as well, with his noose wrapped too tight around your neck.

The cold air breathing up from the cellar through the staircase floats your way, pulling goosebumps from your legs and arms, the echo of nothing. You got used to the soft bangs of the boiler that used to spook you, got used to the dark, damp feeling of the hallway there— of feeling trapped like a bird in a cage with no means of escape. But sometimes the feeling of that cold travelling up your spine without your consent still frightens you a bit, and you ache for the second uncle Issei peeks his head back from under those gates of Hell to soothe you, tell you you can lock up soon.

It hasn’t happened yet, the sun is starting to set. You trust him. You do, so when a nagging sense of curiosity grows heavy, doubt prickles at the back of your mind. You turn to stare at the hallway. You don’t go there. You never go there, not even now— because Issei is the one with his hands wrapped around people’s neck, you’re innocent, oblivious, naive. That’s the deal you made. But with each passing minute on that ticking clock and no sign of life from him, your heart grows heavier— your mind more curious.

Once the sun passes by the horizon and leaves only the faintest shimmer of orangey-red on the walls behind you, dusted over your fingertips and cheeks, you swallow. Thick and heavy, it sits at the back of your mouth as you turn to the hallway, now with trembling hands. “Uncle Issei?” you softly call down, not nearly loud enough to reach the back rooms. Your voice gets stuck in your throat when you stand peering down into the darkness. He probably won’t be happy to have you there, but you’ve never asked for much, right? Just a quick check can’t hurt.

You begin the descent slowly and very unsurely, your responsibilities banging in the back of your skull as you tiptoe down. If someone where to find the parlor abandoned right now, you’d get in trouble. But you don’t think as you still scoot forward more, letting your eyes adjust to the lack of light. Even with the small spots that illuminate the stone staircase, there’s so much darkness that it seems to swallow up any brightness left. You call out for him again, still not receiving an answer.

It’s eerily silent again. You’re freaking yourself out. You know you are— looking at your trembling hands, feeling the hairs standing up on all your limbs, but you really can’t help it. You tap a few buttons on your phone again, but the call goes straight to voicemail. The metal squares hiding some gruesome truths are still all closed, and the chill you feel is the freezers running on full power. Everything is fine. You make it to the back rooms only just, skittish as you yank open the door to them and hide away into it, letting yourself take a few deep breaths.

“Mattsun?” you try one last time, now louder.

Nothing. A pristine room, two empty seats and a few bottles of amber alcohol on a coffee table. No uncle Issei, no screaming, no sign of life. But across the way there’s another door, heavy and metal that you huff at when it doesn’t budge. Deciding none of this is worth the effort, you wipe your hands on your skirt and turn on your heel right when a large figure appears from behind the door.

You jump so hard you slump into the wall with a choked scream, only to drop your shoulders as tears well up in your eyes. The familiar face doing little to keep your heart from slamming against its' bone cage. “I was looking for you,” you choke out, gripping your own fingers with your other hand, swallowing. Uncle Issei is — covered in blood. Head to toe, with blood running down from under his hair over his brow and eye, his shirt and pants drenched in thick, dark blood; his hands, dripping.

You’ve always had a bit of an obsession with his hands, ever since that first time. Strong and big, wrapping around yours with roughened, thick skin and keeping you close. Tattoos crawling down from his sleeves to his knuckles, covering each stretch of him in swirls or red, black and blue. Hands that wiped your tears on nights where you felt lowest, and ones that you spent too long studying when they were pressed up against your shoulders to steady you. But you’ve never seen them like this, so much blood that it drips down onto the floor, droplets looking more light claws than anything else. Rings glittering red.

Your first instinct is to worry for him, but the second is to worry for you. “Who’s watching upstairs?” he asks with a low hum, rubbing his face into the crook of his elbow. He only lifts a single eyebrow towards you when there’s no answer, shifting on your feet. You bite your lip in shame, sucking it into your mouth, before finally shrugging.

“I w- I thought that y- just wanted to know why you hadn’t come up yet.” He keeps your gaze a few seconds longer, then walks towards you and further, looking out into the rest of the cellar with a tense sigh. “I wasn’t trying to snoop, uncle Issei,” you mumble again, feeling like a scolded child. But he clicks his tongue and leans down to press a kiss at the edge of your hair, affectionately, before he stands up and motions towards the other end.

“Come with me.”

There’s a soft press to the space between your shoulders as he walks behind you, leading you into the next room with a deep breath. There’s no warning offered for what you walk into, but you don’t think there is any that would suffice anyway. You clamp your eyes shut, stopping right in place and staying pressed back to his chest, lip shaking, your heart beating like it’s trying to remember the feeling of life.

“Is this what you wanted to see?” he asks, you feel the swell of his breathing against you and the warmth of his body, but you shake your head. “No?” You shake your head harder, trying to banish the view from your memories. Blood, so much, on the table, the chair, dripped down the sink. And a heap in the chair that must be a person, but you don’t dare open your eyes again to confirm. “You didn’t let the curiosity get the best of you, brat?”

“No, no, I wanna leave,” you beg, reaching behind you to cling to his pant leg, balling up your hand so hard it aches. The fabric is still tacky, it leaves your mouth dry and your touch feeling gross. “Uncle Issei, please, I wanna leave,” your voice is high pitched and squeaky by now, betraying the full range of your distress. You almost collapse from relief as his hands wipe on his own clothing before grabbing your shoulders and leading you back the way you came, following his path until the grip loosens and he lets out a deep breath, one that betrays his frustration.

“We’re cleaning up.” He watches you as your eyes crack open again, narrowed and teary, but his own expression is just as hard. “I’m not asking, come on.” He opens the door into the small bathroom tucked all the way into the far of the room and already starts unbuttoning his shirt to place it onto the sink, paying you little mind as you follow him into the room.

The water drums hard on the surface of his skin as you wait with damp hair until he’s finished, about ready to be done and shimmy into the oversized shirt of his he’d offered under his breath. There was nothing coy about the way he pulled you into the same shower, you with your eyes kept strictly on the ceiling as you scrub the shower gel over your arms and legs and down your belly, hoping he’ll do the same.

Every time you accidentally brush against his skin you shiver, not knowing how to break the silence. You're family, and this should be fine, shouldn't be making your cheeks hot and breathing taste sweeter. It does though. Once he’s clean too, you can feel the darkness of his eyes boring into the planes of your face, brushing some hair back ever so gently.

You wonder if he’ll bring up what he sees on your face- because you're sure he does. You kind of hope he has the good will to leave you pretending. After getting dried off and back into your skirt with a clean shirt of his over top he swallows, and clears his voice. “You’ve known since the start about what you'd see in there, don’t act so shocked.”

“‘M not acting anything,” you instantly whisper back, taking place against the wall of the impeccable office, hoping you’ll sink into the wall and never be seen again. There’s a difference between knowing something bad is happening behind your back, and actually facing it. A minuscule change maybe, but enough to have your lip shake as you suckle it. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, that’s all. I don’t want to.”

A tick in his brow is all that shows his agitation, but you still feel bad. Maybe for the distance you suddenly feel between the two of you, so close yet miles and miles of distance. You never had to wonder what made Mattsun a bad person, blocked it out in your mind like it was barely an issue. “Why?” he asks, slow and deep and raising goosebumps all over your skin when his large, imposing form gets closer and closer.

You stare at him, blinking away something deep inside. There’s no way the thing you’re feeling is heartbreak, so then why do you feel so damn heavy? “I didn’t know this is- I didn’t want to see it, Issei. I could have gone my whole life not thinking about it, and I don’t wanna end up like that too.”

With just two steps he’s before you, looking down as you flinch when he raises a hand, his lips pulling into a tight line. He hovers for a second, then slowly— so slow you swear the wait almost feels unending, his fingertips brush along your cheek, face nearing. “You really think I’d ever hurt you? Me hurting you?” It’s in the way he breathes, eyebrows stitching together into a sort of confusion that you’ve never seen on him. For once, he looks lost, and you can’t help but feel like crying when he presses even closer. “I would never think about hurting you.”

“Have you just been thinking this the whole time? About when I’d lay my hands on you and squeeze,” he grunts, narrowing on your expression as you instinctively follow his hands to your throat to cling to them. Your palms are clammy as you watch him take you in, your mouth slightly cracked and glistening, still swollen and puffy from biting your lips so much. He’s so much bigger than you, biceps bulging as he keeps you trapped in place, lungs emptying into the feeble space between you two. “Is that what you think of me? Just when I was starting to think someone actually cared, accepted me.”

The way his body is pressed to yours is overwhelming, face so close you can feel the breath of him along your cheeks, the warmth of his hands as he trails a hand down your spine. It’s intoxicating, more than anything, even though it doesn’t escape you how distinctly wrong your thoughts are. Because no, you don’t, you should and you don’t and it’s messing up your mind as you try to blink through your thoughts. “And if I did, what then?” he mumbles under his breath, pressing you further up against the cold wall. “Who would help you if I wanted to? Your mom? You think Kyoutani will go against me? Who helped you more than I did?”

Your hands shake against his chest as you keep them there, looking up at him like a god in the flesh. Because that’s really what it feels like right about now, the deep darkness of his blown out pupils, the electric touch of his hands along you, like the heavy metal rings make the soft surface magnetic. “No one, uncle Issei. I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” You keep his eyes as he hums, then seems to cage you to him between his thick thighs, the smell of his cologne and just his manly scent filling you up and spitting you out disgarted. “Only you, I promised. I- I trust you.”

His lips pull into a tighter line, before he smiles tightly, looking aside. “Such a sweet thing you are, hm? Always have been too loyal for your own good.” The praise makes you feel floaty, cheeks warming as you search for words, struggling to answer anything of use. “Almost makes me believe you feel the same, kiddo. Don’t do that to me.” He breathes out a tense laugh as he makes you meet his eyes, probably at the wide, teary-eyed way you don’t dare look anywhere else. You feel like you’re drowning.

Your mom once said that you’d be wise not to trust men like him, for your own good, that you weren’t old enough yet to really understand what people’s promises held. Maybe now for the first time, you get what she means. Because looking at him licking his lips so close to you, with his hand wrapped around your throat and your breathing constricted by the proximity of his own face; you wonder what exactly he promised you. And how much you’d do to give into him anyway.

“You’d forgive me if I did something stupid, right?” he whispers, and when you blink your lashes almost brush his, your wrists gripped so tight in his hand. You don’t get the chance to agree before he dips down his lips to peck you, stealing a second kiss and a third too, before he groans and gets to his knees. “I want you to be mine,” he confesses, too easily. Your cheeks, if they weren’t already burning hard and bright, flare up with all the embarrassment in your body until you choke on your words when uncle Issei pushes his face between your legs, nudging up your skirt with his nose.

“Fu—ck, princess, ugh- you’re so pretty. Drive my fucking stupid for you.” The noise he makes is loud and rumbly, hands gripping your thighs tight and kneading the tender skin between strong fingers. He sniffs under your skirt again, pressing his mouth to the heat between your legs and placing open mouth kisses, as you rest your hand in his hair and cling to him.

“Uncle Issei, w-what are you—” your thigh trembles as he hooks it over your shoulder, mouthing at your pussy through the thin covering, obnoxious kissing noises filling you with misplaced pride. He groans as he noses at your clit and licks a long stripe up, then pulls the fabric to the side to tuck it aside. “Why?” you breathe, throwing your head back against the wall and cling tighter to his wild curls, and he hums.

“Want me to stop?” You know what you should say. Looking back down as the heat of his mouth leaves and he meets your gaze head on, he raises an eyebrow, and you almost say yes. But the way he traces his fingers along your slit, long, thick fingertips prodding where your body lets out so much heat, getting wetter by the breath- it’s too much. You slowly shake your head side to side, pouting along when he coaches a noise out of you with the incessant press. “No? You want me to keep going?”

“Please.” That’s all he asks for before burying his face back between your legs with a sigh, repeating the long lick top to bottom on bare skin now, and you shudder when he slips two fingers ever so slowly inside. It instantly feels overwhelming.

“Mhm, s’all you had to say.” He grins into your thighs and hums, then flicks his tongue hard and slow. “Though I’d like to hear you beg.” Maybe it’s the idea of how wrong it is, how wrong he is for you, but the way he pushes his tongue between your bottom lips and sucks hard and messy, taking all of you and lapping you up like he’s been starved for weeks, it feels heavenly. “Y’taste so fucking good, holy fuck.”

You can’t help yourself. His tongue is doing miracles, feeling better than anything anyone’s ever done to you. Your hands shake as you alternate between keeping him close and tugging him back to allow a breath. “Uncle Issei,” you squeak when his fingers push past the ring of muscles a few times, curling into your softness and licking at the pussy nub at the top of your slit. “U-uncle Issei, please.” He moans your name back into your pussy as he seems to press even closer, not that he can, and pushes his tongue along into the clenching hole.

You mewl again, trying not to wrap your leg around him to keep him there, the perfect pressure on your clit, stubble on your most sensitive parts. He licks you clean until you can’t open your eyes without tearing up, before he finally pulls back for breath and drops your leg back to the floor, pulling at your skirt to rid you of it completely. You sink down without his support, sitting flat and panting, wet pussy dripping as you watch him unbutton his shirt much too slow for your taste. When he finishes, you start pushing it off his shoulders and crawl into his lap, aching for more closeness, and Issei smiles.

“My pretty girl needs more, hm?” He grabs your jaw and lays a soft kiss at the edge of your lips before pushing his wet fingers up to your mouth, letting you wrap your lips around them with a soft noise of displeasure. But it doesn’t last for long when you suck on the digits and let him push far back, gagging you. Spit drips down his fingers and hand as he watches you, breathes you in and lets you roll your pussy on the bump of his crotch until you get tired. Then he circles your lips with his fingertips, and nudges them apart. “Open up. Got a present to give you.”

You do, listen so well as you drop your mouth open and let your tongue lul out, barely reacting when he tugs it and more spit leaks down your tongue, your chin and his fingers. It doesn’t have the time to cool before he swipes it up and licks it off his own fingers, then hovering his mouth over yours. “So pretty, my pretty, little niece. Who would’ve expected the little angel of the family to end up grinding herself on her uncle’s cock like a whore, hm?” The grin on his lips glitters in this light, looking endlessly perfect to you.

“Y’like that?” he coos, still pinching your tongue and having drool mess up your face, run down his wrist. You nod, can’t help it. You try to mumble his name with your tongue out of your mouth, grinding yourself on him harder, pushing the fold of the fabric to push against your clit. And he chuckles softly at your eagerness, letting a softer look pass over his face before he hums back, helping your hips along his hardening cock. “Open wider,” he says when he leans in, you do.

Only a moment you think he’ll kiss you, but then something warm and wet lands on your tongue. Spit— his spit pools on the wet surface of your tongue and runs down, and Issei raises an eyebrow. The idea alone that he spit on your tongue, degrading you with no filter whatsoever shouldn’t turn you on, it shouldn’t have you trembling in his lap with your pussy spilling more slick onto the crotch of his jeans. But you can’t help it, you mewl as you let him push the wetness around on your tongue. “Drop it and I’ll give you something worse to drink. Now be good and swallow my fucking spit before I fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

You aren’t allowed to close your mouth as he plays his fingers in your mouth like it’s nothing, pressing against the back of your throat as you swallow around them, unable to hold the wet sounds of your mouth and your cunny at this point. It’s filthy, and uncle Issei looks so pleased. You can’t look away. This time when he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he’s not gentle. He’s not patient. He just pushes you over onto your hands and knees and pulls your underwear down in one smooth pull, nudging your thighs apart. The sound of the zipper between your breaths is loud and makes your hole clench in anticipation, winking as he rubs a rough thumb over it again and again to spread around the wetness dripping down your cunt.

“Been thinking of you for so long, princess,” he leans down to kiss a line down the small of your back, before shuffling in between your legs as he shoves his pants and boxers down and lets you feel the thick, heavy press between your legs. So big, so heavy that you hold your breath, dropping your chin to your chest to look under your body at his cock. Swollen and flushes, it twitches against you, and you reach a hand below you to grip at him between your legs. He’s so hot and thick and heavy in your hand, feeling his heartbeat as you squeeze around the shaft, before moaning along with him.

“Holy fuck, uncle Issei, you’re so big. I- I don’t know if,” you choke, pushing yourself to rub your pussy along the top of him.

He snorts, though it’s lost in his groan when you rub your clit along his flared head, gripping your hips tighter. You don’t have much faith when he thrusts forward against you and his hips level with yours, only showing off how deep he’ll be. “You can. You can,” he whispers, letting you rub yourself along him until your slick and his precum is one wet mess between your legs. “That’s it, pretty girl. Gonna take your uncle’s cock so well, hm? Want it inside?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” you whimper, letting go of him to stuff your own fingers into your mouth and taste your mixture of wet, taste him too. “Wan’it so bad. I wanna feel you.” Every touch to your clit makes you shiver on your knees, forgetting all about the hurt when he finally lines up and the fat head pushes against your hole, his one hand clamping down hard on your hips. “Ahgn- ‘ncle ‘Ssei, please. Feels so good.”

The press of his thick cock against you instantly stretches your walls, sinking down to rest your head on your arms and rolling your hips back against him. Tears leak out of your eyes when he pushes in more, and your voice gets even more tight and whimpery when his thumb pushes up to your puckered hole along with a shallow thrust. “Fuck, fu-baby, so fucking tight. God, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He thrusts deeper, spreading you open inch by inch as you shiver. It hurts, yet feels so good that you can’t think of anything other than his cock fucking into you, frow slow, shallow thrusts to deeper and harder, curling his thumb inside you for more pressure.

By the time he’s able to comfortably roll his hips into you, you’re a drooling, wet mess under him, pussy so full you feel him press up against your cervix and leave your legs barely supporting your weight. Your cunt and clit twitch for him each time his hips meet yours, bumping so deep into your walls you can’t even keep your eyes open. “Uncle Issei, ‘m gonna cum. Gonna cum, gonna cum, ah- ahng.”

“Yeah? Wanna cream all over my cock, pretty girl? Make even more of a mess?” You don’t get the chance to respond before he pinches your clit and sends you straight over the edge, vision going black as the wave of pleasure clashes down on you and he fucks you through it, pushing his cock so far inside you it should hurt. “That’s it, that’s it, cum for me.”

But it’s just amazing, a rush of pleasure as he fucks you open through your orgasm, walls clenching desperately around him. You feel him pull out to let some of your cum spill out and down your legs, before wrapping an arm under your body and pulling you up against his chest, pressing kisses along your neck.

“There you go, baby, so good for me.” He breathes deeply into your skin, before sliding his cock back into the mess between your legs, humming. “You’re warmed up now, right? I think it’s my turn.”

heartbroken! darling . . who spends hours in her soft bed trying to get herself off — mind pacing back and forth to her ex boyfriend suna rintarou.

heartbroken! darling . . who hates herself for being reminded of how well his fingers worked her little cunt, and how well he fucked with his pretty dick.

heartbroken! darling . . who’s fussing, tossing and turning and huffing into her plush pillow until the soft of her upper arm accidently presses on the contact of her ex, ringing suna’s line.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s eyes widen when he sees your contact name pop up — still set as ‘sweet girl’ with no intent to change it. who takes a bit of time to answer, so it doesn’t seem like he cares too much.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who presses the green button with shaky fingers, parting his lips to speak before he hears a familiar meek moan.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s cock begins to stiffen at the soft, whiny moans elicited through the speaker of the phone — clearly you’ve misclicked his contact. he knows the moral thing to do would be to hang up, but . .

heartbroken! darling . . who subconsciously whines out her ex boyfriends name slurred with a soft moan, chanting the syllables over and over with occasional ‘ . . miss you . . ‘ and ‘ love you ‘s . . ‘

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who can hear your sloppy pussy over the poor speaker of the phones, and your soft rumbling in the sheets. who’s listening so intently that he starts to imagine your pussy crying out his name too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“r—rinnn . . miss y’ so much ,”

he knows — knows you’re renacting the nights where you two had to resort to phone sex, due to him being heftily busy or out of town. he’s well used to your whining and the scramble of the sheets against the phones speaker, having resorted to phone sex as a way to push off the true issue — he was never home.

“‘m sorry,” you ramble, “sorry f’being so mean . . miss y’ so much. miss your face ‘nd . . fingers and y’r cock—“ you hiccup.

you muffle your voice into your pillow, free arm wrapping under the the cushion for leverage. “rin,” you moan. “l—love you.”

your breath fastens when you feel your climax following, little thumb pressing against your sensitive clit just as suna taught you. “feels good! r—rinnn,” you cry, eyes shut tight with the vivid imagination of your now ex boyfriend behind you, helping you get off.

his sultry voice and featherlight touches transverse your thoughts, soft cries being elicited from your swollen lips and drool dirtying your pillow. you ignore the loud squelches of your pussy, or how you’re dirtying your hand and the sheets below, pumping in and out of your swollen cunt with no other desire but to cum.

you yelp, jump up in terror when you hear a loud masculine sigh and low shlicks, eyes searching the room for the source of noise. you lift your blanket with intentions to slip inside . .

revealing your phone. on an active call with your ex boyfriend named, ‘sweet boy.’ no, you hadn’t changed his contact either. the time of the call displays ‘12:38.’ a hot flash spreads throughout your body,

“r—rin?”

“y—yeah.”

“you . . you didn’t hear anything right?”

it’s so deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop.

“you really miss me that much, doll?” suna chuckles, breaking the silence with a short hum.

“no . . du—dunno what you’re talking about. i—i called on accident so ‘m gonna—“

“don’t be like that baby, don’t hang up. let me come over, yeah?”

“rin—“ you protest,

“oh? we’re not moanin’ anymore? i see . . “

“shut up, suna!” you cry out, defeated and forcibly facing the fact that you had just fucked yourself to the thought of your ex boyfriend — and he heard everything.

“c’mon. let me come over t’night and show you just how much i missed you, too. alright?”

he’s eager when you don’t protest, only a heavy huff before the line cuts off. he’s quick to messily tug up his sweats, rinse off his hand, and reach for keys.

You like to call your boyfriend cute when you talk about him to your coworkers, saying things like: “He’s so cute, he cooks for me all the time!” or “My boyfriend just bought me this flower bouquet for our date! Isn’t he the cutest?” and it planted an image into your coworkers mind of your boyfriend being this soft looking guy. So they definitely didn’t expect a tall muscular guy with a face that literally embodies “if looks could kill” to walk into the building claiming to be your boyfriend and that you had asked him to pick you up. But it did help a little when you run into his arms telling how much you miss him and for a moment, they catch his hard face turned soft. Ok maybe he was a little cute.

-Sakusa, Ushijima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Tsukishima.

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