nanamismami
nanamismami
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nanamismami · 4 years ago
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𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡
toji fushiguro x reader
You could have anyone you want
Why would you want to be with me?
I’m nothing special
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WC- 8k+ || MINORS DNI !!
my fic for the “great conjunction collab”
Warnings/tags- (unprotected sex, oral sex, slight voyeurism, choking, nipple play, mating press, size kink, slight breeding kink) (historical AU, non-canon timeline, greek mythology, hades-persephone retelling, mentions of misogyny/sexism, depression, religion, hurt/comfort, angst, heartbreak, major character injury, descriptions of blood, violence and death, manipulation)
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nanamismami · 4 years ago
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(not mine)
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nanamismami · 5 years ago
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high. suna x reader
and to my message you reply
hi. is this another suna fic based around “why’d you only call me when you’re high”? yeah...whateva
pairing: suna rintarou x reader
warnings: angst, toxic relationship, drug use, nsfw if you squint your eyes and do a little dance, vomit (suna got sick:(), fluff
genre: angst, fluff
wordcount: 2104
a/n: is it fanon? yeah. a little ooc? yeah. sorry :(
fic below da line :)
        a late night always holds many possibilities. a party, a date, at the least a break from the status-quo. yet somehow you always manage to find yourself at the exact same spot every time.
        suna’s front porch had changed several time since you first started rendezvousing with him. he had a habit of buying large plants, but forgetting to take care of them.
“the only thing he spends more money on than weed is houseplants,” you chuckle. he was still calling you, though he had failed to open the door after five minutes of knocking. you retrieved a key from the underneath of a dying hydrangea plant and let yourself in.
        not all of his late night calls were for personal pleasure. there’s been many times where he needed a place to hide from an angry dealer, or an extra $20 from his doting partner. more often than not, he needed someone to ease him off of a bad high. suna has bought laced all too many times, and couldn’t turn to any other responsible figure but you. “you’re really good at it,” he would tell you when you inquired about him calling someone else for once.
        his messages were a frenzy of “i need help”, “please come over”, and a million other vies for your company. it had been like this for about seven months: he phones you, you get pissed, and yet you still show up to his doorstep. admittedly, your meetings were generally for sex. you weren’t ashamed of it; but he was. 
you told yourself you wouldn’t ever stand for a shitty relationship. yet here you were: a glorified booty call for an emotionally distant man. he only kept you around by taking you on the occasional date. buying you a gifts when he thought you needed one. empty promises of “we’ll put a label on it soon, they’ll know soon.” you knew it was a lie, he did too. but what if one day it wasn’t? what if one of these days he really did mean it? you could get intoxicated off of that feeling, fulfilling his every request for a bit of attention. there was nothing you wouldn’t do to hear “i love you” cascade from that boy’s lips.
        pushing into his house, you see him in a crouching position in front of his couch and, god, was he shivering?
        “rin? what the hell happened?” you said to him. you didn’t yell for fear of breaking the odd calmness he seemed to be in. his reaction to your worried questioning was delayed. his usual cat-eyed stare was almost comically large. 
        “went t’ a party. took ‘sum. don’t feel good,” he managed to slur out. you threw a large knit blanket over his shoulders and sat next to him. “what did you take?”
“a tab.” 
“of what?”
“i don’t know.”
        great. you knew the rest of the people at the party were probably just as high and would be of no help. 
        not knowing what else to do, you moved him to sit on the couch and grabbed a glass of water. it’s not the first time this has happened, and still he never remembers in the morning. every time he’d wake up and find himself in your arms, he’d blame it on the high and take a shower. suna never asked about the money you spent on ibuprofen to make him feel better, or the hours you’d spent soothing his paranoid psyche, or hell, the shower you’d already given him because he’d made a mess of himself. he never knew about the frantic research you did trying to find out how to detoxify whatever drug he managed to find himself on that night. that’s not what matters right now, though. not to him at least.
        “how long ago did you take it?” you asked him. he was sat with his chin resting on his knees, hesitantly taking small sips of water.
“an hour ‘fore i left the party, bout two.”
        was there ever a time he checked on you? did he stay up late wondering if you were safe? he did seem to care some about you... anything physical, he bought for you. he always left you feeling satisfied. was it okay to want more? is that what you deserve? of course it is. you should be with someone who treats you with sincerity. someone who shows your beautiful face off to their friends. someone who when they talk to you, they aren’t-
        you checked your phone. three: twenty-seven. there’s no point in trying to regurgitate it now. his hands were shaky, and lost grip of the plastic cup containing probably his only source of hydration within the last twelve hours.
the loud crash of his cup on the hardwood helped direct you to the true nature of the relationship you found yourself in. the silence of the home as you went to refill his water didn't help either.
        the sudden rush of water falling from the cup onto your hand caused you to jerk you arm back and shut the faucet off. turning around, you’re met with a looming body and a hazy gaze.
        “you’re taking too long,” he commented.
        you set the cup down and looked up at him. you had a right to know what he was thinking, even if it wasn’t clear at the moment.
        “rin…” you whispered. he bore down at you and his eyes sharpened ever so slightly. he must be a bit more cognizant of his surroundings, even better for your question.
            “why do you only call me when you’re high?’
        in your head, it was beautifully executed. the moonlight coming in from the sliding glass door, your enunciation, his careful gaze. christ, it could be straight from a movie.
        suna was a very bad actor. your performance was rewarded with a pile of vomit at your feet and a half passed out man leaning on your shoulder. you guided him back to the couch and laid him on his side, then cleaning up the kitchen. 
       coming back, you find him awake again, lousily sitting on the couch. he at least had washed his face and changed his clothes.
        “i’m cold. come hold me,” he demanded
        you really couldn’t help the smirk on your face. he was so needy when he was like this. obediently, you sat facing suna, and he launched himself on top of you. maybe this is why you stay. it was satisfying feeling needed by a man who wanted for very little. you stroked his dark hair and lightly kissed the shell of his ear. “do you feel any better, sweetheart?” you only call him names when he won’t remember them. sober suna would roll his eyes and ask you to not call him that.
        “you make me feel better.” honesty wasn’t ever a symptom of his current state but hey, you’ll take it.
         in fact, you’ll take full advantage of it. “rin, you’re not going to remember this in the morning, are you?” you knew what the answer was
“...i will.”
        your eyebrows knit together and you pull his face to meet yours. his arms snake their way around your neck, his weight forcing you to lay down. suna shoved his face into the crook of your neck. he breathed out lightly, refusing to meet your eyes.
        “y/n...why are you so good to me?” is he aware of what he’s saying? does this mean he’s remembered every other time and refused to acknowledge it? questioning his integrity might just ruin it, so you only massaged his scalp.
“because i want to rin. you make me happy, and i want to.” a half lie; would he care?
“but you could be happier without me. i dont get it.” 
        “i love you too, ya’ know.” it was a concerningly matter of fact statement, especially from him. “i wish i could show you. you're just so pretty, and smart, and just so... so good. you’re pretty scary, you know that? how am i supposed to be vulnerable with someone like you?" 
         if the ever observant middle blocker couldn’t figure it out, how the hell would you? there’s only so many things you can fully understand.
“because i love you, rintarou.”
you probably shouldn’t have said that, and you knew it. never once had either of you brought up that word. it could easily be the rock to shatter the glass house.
        his soliloquy is almost laughable, it’s only what he knows what you want to hear.
“are you still high?”
“not really. my stomach hurts though. and i’m kinda hungry.”
        he didn’t get up. instead, he asked you to roll over so that you were both lying on your side. 
        you had no idea if he was being truthful. he isn’t exactly one to say i love you so freely. but he knows you are close to leaving. a slightly calloused thumb strokes your cheek and lifts your chin,
“i meant it.”
“no, rin. you didn’t.”
        a look of genuine hurt colored his otherwise bored face. did he really mean it?
        “were you telling the truth?” he asks.
        were you? there wasn’t exactly another explanation for your actions.
        “i think so, yeah.”
        “then so was i.” you thought it was bull, opting to shut him up before he could give you anymore false hope. before you could kiss his face, he beat you to it.
“that’s bullshit, rin.”
        it was tentative, hesitant. he knew you weren’t really convinced. if there was a god, he prayed that they would make his testament of truth pass from his lips to yours. if there was one thing he knew he couldn’t live without, it was you. he would not be able to tie his own shoes if you weren’t there to teach him. but how were you supposed to know that. he fucked up big time, why was he just now realizing it?
“after our first date, i told the whole team i was gonna marry you.”
“the coach too.”
        suna rintarou telling the entirety of ejp about his love life is laughable. you wanted to believe it, really, you did.
        “that doesn’t line up with everything else that’s been going on.”
        “y/n i-i know. i’m sorry. i’ll change.” his pleading was pathetic, to be honest. he’s made those same promises before.
        he was desperate at this point. suna knew he was in the wrong. there had to be a way to save this; he didn’t like seeing you sad, seeing you leave.
        he pulled his phone out, pressing a few buttons here and there. “look!” he said, shoving a new instagram post in your face. it was the only picture he had of the both of you together. he had let you take it. it was a timed photo, facing the two of you in his reading chair. you sat sideways in sunas lap, and your arms were tightly wrung around his neck. he was looking down at you, and you were pretty sure (you hope) he was smiling a little. the caption of his post was simply a heart.
“that’s just a social media post.”
        there was that word again. he looked like he was about to cry and there was emotion in his voice, could he really be lying? 
“baby please. i’m serious. i’ll do anything."
the usual flat tone of his monotone voice began to have some melody to it. against his own will, it was shaky, trying to find the best words to sing.
"i’ll take you out every day, a-and i’ll get you front seat tickets to my game. anything, love, please just don’t leave me.”
        there’s something sweet in a statement that you don’t know the validity of. you can dance around it, pretend it’s true, pretend it’s false. sometimes, you can choose for yourself what tune to dance to. that’s what you’re doing now.
        suna’s large hand was petting your cheekbone, and one of his legs was thrown around your body, imprisoning yourself to his ambiguity. how would you win his approval if you disregarded his one showing of vulnerability?
        “i would never leave you rin. now get the fuck up so we can go to your bed and sleep.”
        his sheets were a pleasant greeting compared to his scratchy couch. he laid flat on his back, pulling you so that half of your body was on his. he slowly leaned toward you, kissing you forehead, nose, cheek, and just about anywhere else he could on your face, finishing with your lips.
        you could definitely tell he was lying about how deep his true lack of sobriety was when he threw you over his shoulder, his bad posture refusing to adjust for the added weight.
 he always knew you cared too deeply about him, but getting see what you did for him when he wasn't supposed to know. it did things to him. his bedroom door was already open, and he jokingly tossed you onto the bed. not enough to hurt you, but enough to convey his desire for a bit more normality. because that's what other couples did, right? he was trying.
“goodnight, y/n. i love you.”
        it was almost instinctual, the way you smiled and chastely pecked his lips. laying your head back down on his chest, you sighed airily.
“i love you too, rintarou.”
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nanamismami · 5 years ago
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IM SCREAMING NXNZJDDB
AWKWARD SEX MOMENTS WITH THE HAIKYUU BOYS
warnings: NSFW. mentions of vaginal sex, anal, menstruation, blowjobs, fingering, nipple play, car sex. plus swearing and a lot of secondhand embarrassment
author’s note: this is just a lil fun brain dump because i KNOW that for all the filthy smut we have on the boys, we need a lil laugh too <3 n they are aged up
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