notthecutesttrash

[notthecutesttrash]

Fault Line

Content: You're the school nurse at Jujustu High, and Gojo Satoru finds a way towards you every day. Your firm resolve against his teasing eventually begins cracking, and Gojo never backs down from a challenge.

Word count: About 8k

Warnings: 18+ Steamy, Grueling teasing, soft choking, softcore, brat-taming

·:*:· ★ ·:*:· ·:*:· ★ ·:*:·　 

Every few days it was always some excuse with Gojo. One moment he stubs his toe, the next he needs a nap for his “exhaustion,” or he’s beat from whooping curses all day. However, he most commonly asked you to wrap his eyes, something so strange and simple, yet intimate.

His legs are spread just enough for you to step between them as he sits. His hands press into the bed, and his neck cranes to observe you intently, a smile painting his pretty features.

It’s quiet, nothing in the atmosphere that draws either you out of such a focus. You press your hand underneath his soft hair and lift it, gently rolling the fabric over his eyes that flutter shut.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just use your blindfold,” you huff, flushing a little. You're almost certain you've never seen him wear wraps until you started working here.

“Cause you do it perfectly. You wouldn't want to see me try, trust me it's not a pretty sight." Gojo's voice always carries that little smugness, the kind you hate — well mostly. You scoff in response.

“Besides you should be honored you can get this close to me, most don’t even get to see my eyes, nonetheless touch them.” The cockiness is inevitable and you sarcastically “mhm,” his words going through the other ear as you focus.

Gojo studies you. He enjoys your fixation, the way you zone your view onto whatever you’re doing with so much importance. The way you struggle to multitask and talk while doing the simplest of things. It’s helplessly adorable.

At this awkward angle, his nose is nearly pressed into your chest, and at first, you would have never allowed it, but the more you’ve done this, somehow the more you’ve inched closer.

Your fingers lightly brush against his temples, a warmth in his skin connecting yours to his.

Your feet hesitate a little at the awkwardness, and you shuffle uncomfortably. His knees purposely touch your leg, closing you in subtly, as if trapping you in between him.

You tense and clear your throat, awkwardly stepping back, turning your head so he won’t see any pink.

“Alright.. you’re done.”

He pouts. “Aw, so soon? Why do I get the feeling you’re doing this faster to get me out?”

You smile innocently, "Maybe I am."

But honestly, that wasn't true.

You could be doing it even faster, but you usually decide to stall just a little. It’s only wrapping bandages, how long could one reasonably take without it being suspicious?

"I’m sure you’ll be back next Monday when you, Satoru Gojo, somehow gets cut.” You emphasize sarcastically. Gojo grins. He closes his legs and you’re almost disappointed. Your staring gets cut off when he stands.

“Till next time sweetcheeks.” Gojo throws up a peace sign and opens the door to leave. Usually, he would throw a little more fight to conversate about anything else. So needless to say you were a little disheartened to see him go. You shift to your work with a tiny frown

A few moments pass, and you're fumbling with a pill bottle, frustrated, playing with the cap like you have nothing better to do. Exhaling a deep annoyed sigh, you try again, pressing down and waiting for it to pop.  

Nothing.

Pressing a hand to your cheek, you exhale, and exchange it for other work.

Now, you're fumbling with a pen, hesitant to write something, anything. Your mind blinks to Gojo, and with a prompt shake, you trail the pen down, creating a tiny useless trail.

Your hand refuses to write, and after a while, you're huffing.

Eventually, you give up, and your hands are pressed to your chin, mind lost in thought.

Just a little moment later, you hear an exhausted sigh as Gojo strolls in. Your lashes flutter to him as he nears close, and you can't help the scoff that leaves you.

"And here you are.. again," you muse, pressing a hand to your cheek, sort of half amused, half annoyed.

"Need a bandage for your booboo?" You drawl mockingly.

"Nah, just know you miss me," he retorts, leaning close.

You deadpan, "Not really, no," and smirk.

"So mean," he pouts, clutching his chest. "Almost like you don't want me here," and before you can respond he sits close, too close.

You hesitate, just slightly, enough for him to see, and he bites back a mean grin. Gojo playfully leans in, his hand purposely brushing against yours as he grabs the pill bottle.

Your eyes widen, so instinctive it makes you freeze.

With a quick pop, it snaps open, and you shake your head, avoiding his cocky gaze.

After a few seconds of deafening silence, you huff, "Don't you have anything better to do?" You could feel the heat in your skin, and you're gazing away, focusing on the work in front of you.

"Not really," he smirks. "Watching you try so hard not to look at me is kind of my new favorite thing."

"Sad if that's your only entertainment, maybe you need a hobby." He leans in closer and your jaw clenches, and just like that, his fingers are trailing at the area.

"Oh sweetheart, you are my new hobby," he murmurs, low, and it takes a moment to register before you pull away.

You shoot him a look, lips parting to insult him, but as you look up at him, they close.

You look away.

"Go away, I'm working."

He grins, then fakes an exaggerated shock.

"You wound me. Here I am, checking on my dear, totally-not-coldhearted nurse, and this is the thanks I get?"

You roll your eyes and mumble an "mhm."

Your fingers twitch when he curls your hair around his finger, twirling it mockingly, and when you look down at your writing, there's a clear jagged line across your words.

“Aw, no witty comeback? No dramatic sigh? Don't tell me you’re slacking now."

You snatch your hair from his grasp and barely spare him a glance before snapping your pen back in place.

Gojo's gaze flickers down, catching the little messy jagged line you try so hard to hide. He lazily taps above it, and you press your lips into a tight line.

"That part of the report really speaks to me," he grins wide, "Very raw. Very emotional."

His shoulders shake with laughter, and he presses a hand to his stomach while you scowl. You quickly flip the page over and start again.

"Why are you still here?" You jab, ignoring the way he's mocking you.

You like it when he is, but at least when he gave you something to do.

He leans in just a little closer, "I told you why, you're my new favorite pastime." His fingers hover above your hand, not quite touching, but leaving you expecting, and you stop writing.

"Y'know, I think you're starting to like me," he adds, his voice silk.

"I'm not," you mumble as if almost trying to convince yourself.

"Then why are you blushing? Nervous to see me?"

You exhale a flustered sigh, "I'm not blushing."

"No? Should I get closer? Just to check?" Gojo leans in, the space between you two minuscule, his breath tickling against your ear. Your breath stumbles, and you pull away, your pulse suddenly racing.

His hand leans against his cheek as he watches you— all with that cocky little smile.

"You're annoying, go away," you shoot back, your voice attempting to be sharp, but it comes out meek.

"Yeah?" He pauses, before exhaling breathily.

"Then make me."

You completely freeze.

He purrs in acknowledgment.

His hand begins barely grazing yours, leaving a little faint trail that travels up your arm slowly— oh so slowly until it reaches your shoulder— then your collarbone— before vanishing.

He chuckles as you swallow, your eyes blinking back quickly to reality, but Gojo already knows.

Then, he stands up, slow, like he knew you wouldn't stop him.

"Later," his voice is casual, like nothing, and he's already walking away, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

You're left.. frustrated.

And although it's the next day, and you have time off for yourself, all you can do is be angry.

You stand in the shower, feeling the hot water run down your skin, the way it trails reminding you of him.

Why did you just sit there? Why didn't you at least slap his hand away or something?

Your face burns, and you're shaking your head aggressively, forcing yourself out of your thoughts. "Stupid," you mumble, scrubbing hard, the heat coiling in your stomach.

Then when you get out, you're harshly dragging the towel against your skin despite already being dry.

Sunday night is even worse.

Every time you close your eyes, he's there. His voice, his breath, his hands at the edge of your skin.

You grumble, clutching the sheets tight, frustration boiling as your heart jumps to the idea of him tomorrow. It's not excitement, it's not.

And when tomorrow does come, it takes hours before he storms in.

"Nursee, I'm dyingg," Gojo complains, whining like a baby as he nears you with his arm stretched.

The scowl on your face already softens the moment you see him, and upon realization you bite back the frustration, steeling your gaze into something unmovable.

You don't acknowledge him, you just turn away.

He pouts, "Cold, but seriously, I did get a cut." He shoves it near your sight, and you pay it no mind. "what if I bleed out?" He whines. "What if this is the end for me?" His tone is drawn out so annoyingly, and it makes you inhale sharply.

He whines again when you don't answer, "Nurseee, I'm really bleeding here, I could actually die."

Your eye twitches, and you quickly snap to look at his arm, expecting a serious bleeding wound, only to see a little oozing scratch.

"Are you kidding me?"

He fake pouts. "It hurts y'know, could be infected, what if it kills me?"

"It's barely even there," you huff.

He leans down to you, whispering "Still hurts," with a sudden grin. "Wouldn't want your favorite patient to suffer, right?"

Just like that, your breath gets lodged in your throat, and you glare hard at him, grabbing the disinfectant a little too aggressively and slamming it down near you.

"No need to be so mad, nurse, this could be serious, what if it really got infected and my arm had to be amputated?" He feigns his pout again, frowning at the way you ready the supplies.

You snap your fingers around his arm and pull it harshly, "Shut up and give me the darm arm before I really make you lose it."

Gojo's smirking, unbothered. "Aw, I knew you cared."

You shoot him a small smile before dabbing hard into his cut. He hisses dramatically, "Ow! Gentle!" He huffs like a baby, pressing a hand to his heart, "I'm fragile!"

"Poor baby," you mock.

"Oh?" He grins all of a sudden, voice dangerous and low, as if you hit a nerve.

"Poor baby, am I?" He shifts, so subtly that you don't even realize what he's doing until he's closer, way too close for comfort. You blink up at him, freezing on instinct.

His free hand travels slightly along your jawline, hovering just above it, and you draw back just a tiny bit.

"You always get so stiff when I’m this close. What’s wrong?"

Satoru leans in way too close, and his breath brushes against your cheek, his smile growing with amusement.

"Afraid you might like it?"

You still manage to huff, wrapping his ridiculous little wound with gauze. He's towering over you too intentionally, he knows he's close, and he's laughing.

"No, you're just in my space," you grumble, aiming to ignore him by forcing your attention to his scratch. That's all the confirmation he needs and he hums.

"Huh. That’s weird. You don’t seem to mind when you’re wrapping my eyes." He pauses, chuckling.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like touching me.

You glare at him. "Don’t flatter yourself. I’m doing my job."

Gojo presses his free hand to his heart, mockingly surprised. "Ouch. That almost sounded convincing." His arm brushes against yours purposefully, and you swallow just a tiny bit.  

"Almost," he adds.

Gojo's voice drops to a playful whisper, and his face nears close. "If I move in just a little more, will you run? Or will you stay? I wonder." He hums and you flinch.

It's a heavy silence, and a shiver runs down your spine. You push yourself to ignore him, still focusing on the scuff.

"You're so cute when you're flustered."

Glaring at him, you voice "I do not get flustered." The burn of your cheeks betrays you, and there's an infuriating smirk on his face.

"Oh? So if I—" He closes the space between you two slowly, deliberately. His fingers graze your chin, then lazily, almost absentmindedly, trace your jaw before he pushes a stray hair behind your ear.

He grins when he feels your breath hitch. "—do this, you won't react?" Your muscles stiffen, and your heart is pounding. He smiles wide.

"You're delusional," you speak firmly, shaking your head. He's imagining things, really.

Gojo tilts, then snickers.

"That's weird.. because I could've sworn I saw your ears turning red."

You purse your lips, ignoring desperately how the heat radiates off his skin. His whispers bounce off your neck, and his touch feels excruciating.

"Again, don’t flatter yourself," you step back from him, and he almost moves in sync with you.

"Oh, I don’t need to, sweetheart. You do it for me."  You swallow hard, and when you think he just might say something, he leans, his lips hovering near your ear.

And suddenly, Thud.

Your back hits against the wall.

His smile is faint, until he rests a hand beside your head, caging you in.

"Running away without fully treating me? What a bad nurse," He teases, and you weakly glare at him. His gaze is enough to make your knees weak, and you stay still. He's not touching you, but it's enough to make the air feel heavy.

"Move Gojo." You scowl.

"Move? You're free to go, sweetheart, I’m not the one who backed herself into a corner." His hand doesn’t budge. He stands there, perfectly at ease, watching you.

You open your mouth to argue, only to pause when his gaze flicks down, catching the little swallow in your throat. His grin widens.

You try to keep your voice steady, "Get out of my way."

He softly chuckles, lazily smirking, as if he has all the time in the world to just watch you.

Your pulse rushes to your throat, hammering against it, and he hums thoughtfully.

"You’re cute when you’re trying not to react," he leans closer, "Too bad you’re terrible at it."

His face is practically glowing with amusement, and his lips stretch into a slow, tantalizing smirk. With a sharp inhale, you glare at him, wordless. Again, he nears closer and his nose almost grazes yours, his exhale brushing your lips so warmly.

"Holding your breath now? That's even cuter."

A shiver shakes you, and he smiles. "Sensitive, huh?" He feigns curiosity, his fingers trailing down the side of your throat, just hardly touching it. He feels your scurrying little heart rate and laughs, almost pitifully.

"Poor baby," he mocks, and your skin is hot, the humiliation weighing you down like a blanket.

You grumble with gritted teeth, "You think you're so clever don't you?"

Gojo laughs, "I don't think," he trails his touch under your jaw, forcing you to gaze at him with the slightest touch.

His lips hover above yours, sending shocks at every exhale. "I know."

His lips aim at the hollow of your throat, but he doesn't deliver. He hovers there, watching your sweet little breaths stagger.

"That's more like it," he speaks like he's satiated, a hint of satisfaction in the gruff edge of his voice.

You shrug off his touch, and he chuckles at the pout. Your heaving betrays your harsh scoff, and you turn away from his insufferable gaze.

He laughs again, "Are you always this easy to mess with, or is it just from me?"

His exhales hover, and your body wants to react on instinct. It desires with everything in you to land a plush kiss on his pretty lips, but you shove your head to the side and ignore him.

Gojo fakes a pout, "Come on sweetheart, use those words." He stops, letting the silence hang in the air as he twirls your strands.

"What happened to that tough little girl a second ago?" He smirks, his thumb hovering over your chin, coaxing you to look at him again.

With gritted teeth, you try to speak, yet the hammering in your throat forces a pause.

"You-"

His fingers trace the side of your neck, trailing down your collarbone so nonchalantly. His eyes weren't even on you, just on the way your skin glistened. You nearly quiver, and Gojo leans down to the area, ghosting his touch above it.

"Hm, what about me?"

A hush of silence draws you out, and suddenly you're too focused on how his lips touch you so barely.

All of him is swallowing you whole, his touch, his voice, the tickling of his warm breath, everything was driving you mad. His smirk deepens, pressing into your neck.

"C'mon sweetheart, finish your sentence. I want to hear it."

His words barely register when he's so close, teasing you. Again, his grin widens, and he laughs after a long unbearable silence.

"Aw, forgot what you were gonna say, huh?" He coos mockingly and you glare weakly at him.

"Poor thing."

Your breath hitches, and he exhales, his hand leaving a last impression on your jawline before he removes it completely.

"We should do this more often." Gojo winks.

"Till next time," and just like that he's casually throwing up a peace sign and leaving.

And you're just standing there burning, breathless, almost cold without him.

The next time it'll be different, in fact, there will be no next time. You're going to do your job and that's that.

But the moment he glances up at you, his eyelashes fluttering, his smirk widening as if he knew something you didn't, your heart leaped into your throat.

You take a step back and cross your arms, determined to reject him. "Back off Gojo, I'm not playing your stupid game."

"Hmm." He smirks, his gaze gleaming something unreadable— something inevitable.

Then he moved.

In an instant, the space between you two was gone, and his palm presses against the wall beside you, boxing you in, your body quivers, so helplessly caged between his.

Your breath catches, lodged in your throat as he towers over you, his light touch ghosting over your jaw so lightly, it makes you shudder. His trace left a wave of heat, sending a trail of shivers down your spine. When your breath hitches, he hums, low and pleased, a dangerous grin spreading his lips.

"Trembling already, and I barely even started," Gojo chuckles, his nose faintly brushing against your neck. God, he made you so infuriated.

Your mouth opens to counter him, and nothing can leave your lips as he traces the lines of your neck, your racing pulse pushing against his fingers. He smirks as he feels the warmth of your arms, a sudden stream of goosebumps rising in his wake.

"You don’t even realize how easy you make this for me." he voices, low, his lips leaning towards your ear.

"All that attitude, and look at you, already falling apart."

You could feel his tongue just gently poking out, so eager to leave a trail. Finally, a whimper escapes, a whimper so desperate, so weak, and so needy.

He grins. "That's my girl. You sound so sweet when you break." His voice was a husky, satisfied hum that made your legs weak and your breath uneven. He leaves the lightest whisper of a kiss against your neck before stopping.

Just like that, he was gone, leaving you breathless, again.

The next time he visits, you ignore him. For the past 10 minutes he was toying with you, playing with your hair, leaning in just a little too close, voicing offhanded comments, grinning wide at you.

With each scene, you respond with only a slight hum of acknowledgment, just the slightest crack of a smile before ignoring him.

"Oh? Silent treatment? Should I be worried?" Gojo muses, his voice daring, like he was all too entertained. You don't answer.

"You’re really committed huh?" He steps close, so close that you can feel the warmth oozing from his skin. You fought back a reaction, too focused on organizing the area around you, hopeful it'd get him to break.

"Eager to pretend I don't exist. That's cold, sweetheart, how do you live with yourself?"

"Peacefully," you smile. You crack a flutter of your pretty little eyelashes at him, gaze deliberately uninterested. Then you turn away, focusing on something else.

He eyes you, an unknown emotion lingering in his stare before he cracks the faintest, knowing smile. He observes how you organize little packets of gauze and ointment into neatly confined storage so focused, so purposefully. He lifts himself, pressing a hand to his cheek, grinning.

Suddenly the gauze is gone, snatched from your hands, dangling just inches from your face. Gojo's close, his lips parting so slightly, exhaling a breath that drifts to your skin. You don't react, not even a little huff— the gauze had vanished from your mind the second it was in his hands.

"I guess I gotta try harder," he chuckles, his body inching a tiny bit more.

Then he sees it. The tiniest swallow. So fleeting and quick that no one would've noticed... But he wasn't just anyone.

A grin stretches his lips wide, and his hand lingers over your hair, his fingers gently tucking a stray strand. He brushes against your ear purposefully and a quick shiver bolts through you.

"You're cute sweetheart," he hums, lazily leaving a phantom touch at your arm.

"Trying to act like this doesn't affect you." He continues, tracing barely-there patterns into your skin.

You hum thoughtfully, then with a sudden brevity, your fingers reach his, caressing them—feeling a shift.

He stiffens in response, just hardly, but you felt it. Your lips curl into a grin. "What's wrong?" You feign a pout, "no fun when it's happening to you?"

His chuckle is quick, sharper, and he's amused at your playful composure. His lips brush against your ear ever so miniscule, voicing harsh, breathily, "Oh, I'm having plenty of fun."

You give him a calm expression, quiet, until you frown, your hand gently brushing against his chest, mimicking his light grazes.

Your fingertips run low, carefully past his pecs, then further to his abdomen. And for just a tiny moment he stills. A barely noticeable tension in his jaw, yet you still see it, and you know you'd gotten to him, even if for just a second.

And then—

A vivacious drawn out chuckle rumbles from his chest, and his hands gingerly trace the sides of your waist, pressing just enough to dig in. You pause, instinctive, and when you glare at him, he chuckles, the whisper of his breath tickling your ear.

"Go on sweetheart, try to break me." His voice is drenched with amusement, smooth and unaffected. His fingers ghost along the curve of your jaw.

"Let me feel you attempt to get a reaction out of me, just so I can win in the end." Your chin is tilted up, his hold not forceful, but threatening. Your eyes forcefully lock, and his lips hover too close.

The air between you two is thick, suffocating, and the little crack of your composure is inevitable. A flicker of hesitation, just a momentary freeze, and his grin stretches wide, deepening against your neck. "Go on," He murmurs, his voice taunting— mocking.

And he waits. Patiently.

You tiptoe to him, getting closer, "Getting desperate, Satoru?" Your voice is honey, whispering his name like a long kiss. He exhales sharply, his expression remains smug, but there is a flicker of something lingering beneath.

Irritation. Genuine, pure annoyance.

It was there, buried under his arrogance, yet you could feel it, and that made you chuckle. Your nails skimmed down, trailing over his pulse.

Mockingly you tap his jaw, and he tilts his head at you, dangerously. "You look like you're really thinking hard," you coo, beaming at his irritation. "Are you okay, Satoru?"

Gojo's still grinning, but his voice is just the tiniest bit tighter.

"Cute, really think you're doing something here, huh?"

"I'm not doing anything." You hum innocently. Your fingers ghost over his abs, all with this sweet faux smile that irks him.

Just to push him further, you drag your fingers up, your nails just barely leaving a trail. You brush against the skin just below his ear, and for a fraction of a second, his throat feels just a tad tighter.

You, "aw," then purr, "you're so quiet, Satoru."

Gojo tilts his head. "That all you got, sweetheart?"  

You don't acknowledge, you just continue drawing loving patterns against his skin.

You peek and his grin widens, as if he knew he was winning.

Then, you stop, thoughtful and quiet.

"What's with that face?" He asks, voice lowering as he gets close, enough to aggravate you. "Getting frustrated already?"

You're gazing at him, until finally your lips deviously curl. His brow raises, and you get impossibly close to him, just enough to not touch.

The heat of him extends to your skin, and your arms rush to his features. Your fingers brush against the fabric of his blindfold, just barely poking it.

The silence shatters, thick, and his breath is slow, measured.

The instant he feels it, his jaw clenches, his fingers snapping tight around your wrists, and his body closes in, pressing you flat against the wall. The sudden grip sends a sharp thrill down your spine, and you're smirking.

The air shifts from playful to serious in just a second, the smug beam that once was on his face— gone.

He speaks softly, but his tone sinks like a threat.

"Now that.. was a mistake."

You grin, widening so increasingly you can feel the twitch in his hands.

"But I got a reaction out of you, didn't I?" His fingers tighten, then hesitate, the grip faltering for a second. It wasn't much, but just there to make a warmth coil deep in your stomach.

Then just like that, his heavy breath evens, and his grip loosens, a smirk creeping back.

"Oh, you're real cute." His grip tightens slightly, just enough to make sure you remember. His palm slides to cup your jaw, forcing you to face him. "You're gonna regret that."

His breath tickles your lips, fingers tracing circles at the side of your neck, mocking what you did to him.

You smile, tilting your head just enough to make his lips tickle your skin, whispering "Maybe I want to."

His knee stills between your legs, hovering, just shy of grazing you.

Gojo blinks, slow and unreadable.

Suddenly his hold drops from your wrists.

His palms sink deep into your pliant thighs, melting, and he hoists you up effortlessly. Your heart stammers, and a soft desperate plea of a whimper escapes. You gasp, fingers flying to his shoulders.

His grip is firm, and possessive, quieting your shakiness.

He grins, something off lurking beneath it.

His fingers flex into your thighs, and he feels your body twitch, despite your weak determined glare.

The heat of him, the weight of his hands, the ghost of his breath against your cheek, all of it was making you numb.

But it was only that.

He wasn't moving. He wasn't doing anything, he just stayed there, watching you.

Frustration was bubbling beneath your skin, simmering in your desperate legs.

"You're just gonna stand there?" A huff leaves you, and you attempt to shift against him, but he keeps you there, pliant, still. You attempt to provoke him, but he just grins wide.

Gojo lets out a breathy chuckle, and it tingles against your skin. He tilts his head as if considering.

"Mmm... yeah."

There was a second of deafening silence. You struggle, and it's futile.

“Just—just do something already,” you huff, frustrated.

Gojo's fingers twitch, just a little, and your breath hitches, because just for a second, you thought he was really going to.

Then... Nothing.

Your breath is stumbling, your fingers pressing against his shoulder blades, stomach twisting at the heat.

Finally Gojo leans in, your lips parting with sweet anticipation.

They graze against your ear, smirk widening.

"No, I don't think I will."

He wasn't laughing, he wasn't teasing, he wasn't even pressing deeper to observe the meek resistance.. he was just silent, all with that deranged grin as he feels your heart sink.

"What?" You breathe, your stomach dropping. Your legs tremble, and his grip holds you firm. The silence is loud, unbearable.

You couldn't help but choke out a "Why?" Your voice just barely above a whisper.

His lips curl deep. "Because I can."

Gojo mockingly chuckles, reacting to your little stilled breath. In this moment you hate that he can read you.

Your breaths are heavy, shallow, waiting so stiffly for something to happen.

And he just watched.

His grip loosened— not enough to let you go, but just enough to let you feel it, let you think that for a second you actually had some control.

But you didn't.

Your throat's tight, burning, and your cheeks flush red, a few frustrated tears welling. It was shameful.

He sighs, almost as if bored, smiling slow, cruelly, like it was an expected win— like he was just waiting for this result.

Your body is tense, screaming for some kind of release, just anything. The slightest touch, a ghost of a whisper, a little trail— but nothing, he was doing absolutely nothing.

Sucking in a sharp breath, a frustrated tear rolls down your cheek, and you aim to steel yourself, turn away as if it hadn't happened but he saw.

Gojo smirks, tilting your chin, and brushes his thumb under your eye, "Aw, you really thought you had me, hm?"

Then just like that, he lets go.

The moment his fingers slip away you nearly collapse, steadying yourself against the wall while heaving intensely.

"You really thought i'd actually—" Gojo trails a phantom finger down your neck, achingly slow, and the moment you're leaning for more, it vanishes. "Nah." He pulls away, laughing at your pout.

He stands there for a moment, his hands shoved in his pockets so casually until he just turns around and leaves.

And you think of it the whole day. The moment you get home, the moment your head hits the plush pillow, you pout angrily.

You wrap your blankets around your warm body, saddened at the loss. The emptiness at your side feels deafening, and you exhale longingly.

When Gojo has you wrapping his eyes the next day, it's quick, faster than ever, like you're just desperate to get away from him.

When you step away after a few seconds he forms a pretend frown.

"Aw, what's wrong?" He mocks, tilting as he studies you.

"Nothing," you turn away, arms crossing tightly.

"Oh no sweetheart," he tugs at your sleeve, pushing you towards him, "that's not just nothing, that's a full pout." He cups your jaw, aiming to run his fingers below it before you slap his hand away.  

"Did I tease you too much? Hurt your little feelings?" His voice is all feigned sympathy, a complete mock of your emotion. You scowl, biting your cheek in anger as you ignore him.

His fingers graze your wrist, trailing up your arm slowly and steadily. "C'mon, use your words." Again, you huff, your arms crossing, a glare shooting to the ground.

"Poor thing," he coos like he means it, yet he's sparkling with a deviousness.

"So frustrated," he cups your cheek, grinning as you inhale sharply.

It's almost as if it's amusing for him, like your frustration is solid entertainment.

He smiles, voice silky as he speaks low. “You’re just dying for a little relief, aren’t you?”

"Go away Gojo—" You move to turn away.

His hand attaches to your wrist, forcing you to come back.

Your voice cracks just a little, betraying your composure.

His grip strengthens at the sound, the smirk increasing.

"There it is." He pulls you near, keeping you there just inches from his chest.

He taunts, his touch skimming your neck, again. “You wanna tell me to stop?”

Your breath stutters so slightly. He hums, dipping close to your skin, "Or you want me to keep going?"

He pauses, pressing a light whisper against your neck. "Hm?" He waits, his finger tapping lightly at your skin, slow and rhythmic.

"You're so annoying," you grumble, attempting to pull back.

“Adorable,” Gojo laughs, tilting your chin to get a good glance.

You try to snag your arm away, just barely.

"Let go Gojo."

He feigns confusion, tilting his head. "What's my name?"

You inhale deeply, almost shamefully, biting back the frustration, while murmuring, "Let go.. Satoru."

His lips twitch, and the smirk widens. "Say please."

You gnaw at your cheek, staring at the floor, practically exhaling through your teeth as you force out a "please."

His grip tightens just slightly, as if you're missing something. You bite your lip in hesitation, then look at him.

"Please Satoru."  

He chuckles and his grasp loosens, enough for you to pull away.

But yet, you don't.

Your fingers tense in hesitation.

"Oh?" He leans in, his presence suffocating.

His breath, inevitable, hits your skin, teasing a shiver down your spine.

You freeze, and your lips part, your breath hitching before you can even realize.

Gojo waits. He doesn't rush, doesn't tease, he just drinks it in like he's savoring a slow. rich wine.

His voice dips, something terribly amused. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

You tell yourself to move. But you’re still here. Your body just won’t listen.

Gojo tilts his head, and you feel it, his nose brushing your jaw.

"Worried you'll miss me?" His breath tickles against your jumping pulse, and your lips press tight.

You don't answer, won't answer.

His insufferable grin remains.

"At a loss for words?" He teases, and your lips fall into a small pout, gaze stubborn and unyielding.

Gojo hums, pleased.

Suddenly you're tugged forward and a quick yelp escapes. He pulls you onto his lap in one smooth motion. He secures you against him, his arms loose yet unyielding, hands firm against your waist.

"You're really acting like a baby, y'know that?" He drawls tiredly.

You should push him away. Fight back. But you don't. Your legs, just stiff moments ago, melt into him. You feel lighter, and you hate how your heart is racing, how the warmth pushes against your skin.

He's impossibly close, and in this more intimate position you feel your resolve slipping almost instantly, and he feels it.

"You know.. I think you like me close." A satisfied hum rumbles against your ear.

Your stomach twists, tightening unbearably. You don't move, and some part of you doesn't even want to.

He laughs, his grip pressing just a tiny bit at your waist— enough to make your breath hitch.

"Gonna act like a brat because I didn't let you get what you wanted?" He sounds amused at this point, but there's something a little darker beneath his words.

You twitch, scowling— just poorly.

"Hmmm." He hums slowly, all drawn out, enough to make you feel it.

Again, you don't speak.

Your arms cross, just lightly, weak enough to be pulled apart.

And he does.

"Look at me." He cups your chin, not rough, but forceful enough to have your eyes meet.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it?"

He trails slowly at your jawline, feeling you suck in tight.

Heat courses through you, your face flaring in humiliation and something else.

You open your mouth to finally speak, "you're being—"

"A baby?" He interrupts, cocking his head. "Yeah. You are."

You tighten your arms in irritation. You part your lips again to retort, and he grins, knowing you have absolutely nothing to say, and so they close.

"So difficult." He exhales a faux sigh.

The heat stirs unbearably, and you can't help but move just a little against him— worse you convinced yourself it was for the sake of comfort.

His whispered breath tickles your lips. "Can't even sit still because you're so needy."

His hand flexes in your waist, pressing just enough to make you whimper, so instinctively, so soft. Your legs fidget, and he holds you tight against him.

"Pathetic." His voice drops enough to make you feel every little syllable.

You blink up at him, eyes wide, and he tilts your chin further up, his nose grazing an area in your neck that had your eyes rolling back. You squirm, your breath shaking, and his smirk widens against your skin.

"You spent all this time fighting me, and for what?" His thumb presses lightly at your throat, and you take a choked little breath. He snickers deep, his breath hitting so good.

"Gonna admit it yet, princess?"

Again, you don't answer, and with that you feel it, the way his body twitches against yours, the subtle shift before the inevitable.

You barely have a second to react. A gasp tears from you as you're pushed flat against the examination table. You yelp, and he's already above you, his whole body pressing you down completely, one hand effortlessly trapping your wrists.

"Still wanna ignore me?" He muses smoothly, curling a silk-wrapped threat in his words. Still, something coils deep in your stomach.

You try to turn your head from him, but you can't.

His grip tightens around your neck, not rough, but just enough.

A quiet whine escapes.

He chuckles, "No running away now, sweetheart."

He studies you, amused by every twitch, every shiver, every little attempt that gets you no where. He grins, feeling you squirm beneath him, so pathetically.

The silence stretches, and eventually his smirk just keeps growing.

"You're really trying, hmm?" His tone is drawled out, knowing. "Trying so hard not to give me what I want."

You scowl, refusing to react, and he grins wider. His hand roams down your throat, his thumb pressing lightly at the base of it. You flinch.

"Oh, you felt that, didn’t you?" Gojo hums, "The way your pulse jumped just now?"

You try to turn head away and his hand tightens, forcing your gaze back. "Nuh-uh," he shakes his head. "Eyes on me."

You glare at him, and it looks so meek, so pouty, it makes him laugh.

"Your whole body’s betraying you, y’know that?"

Your jaw is tight, and he runs a thumb over it, relaxing it almost instantly.

"You can pretend all you want," he pauses, his fingers dragging against that dip in your neck. "But I see you—" he presses tight, causing a gasp, "feel you."

You try, so pathetically to seem unaffected, to ignore the stammering of your heart, but he just savors it.

"You’re reallly fighting it," he pauses, amused beyond anything. "So adorable."

He ghosts his hand over your sides, barely touching.

"You know what I think?" His voice is slow.

You press your lips into a tight line as he gets closer, and his grip on your wrists tighten.

His voice lowers to just a whisper, the heat bouncing against your lips. "I think you’re just a little brat," he muses, watching you swallow tightly.

"And worse—" he inches even closer, lips ghosting over your jawline.

"You like being put in your place."

Your breath shudders and your legs twitch, pressing lightly until they nearly graze his. His grin is vicious, like he won.

"See?" His coy sweetness hits your core, and his lips nearly kiss your skin before he draws back.

He tilts your face towards him, watching the way your lashes flutter, eyes so half-lidded and desperate.

"Was that so hard to admit?"

Your lips part, and you inhale to retort, but it gets cut short. You're stuck, barely breathing as you stare up at him.

"C'mon baby, just one little word." He makes a tiny gesture with his thumb and index at your throat, and you gasp desperately, twitching in response.

"Tell me how right I am." He repeats, purposely trailing a touch over that one place you like so much.

"No?" He mockingly pouts.

You can't even muster even the tiniest glare his way.

"Can't even talk, can you?" He exhales a sigh, feigning heavy disappointment. "Poor baby."

You make a noise, a loud sweet strangled sound— but no words. His fingers flex over your throat, the press tender.

He coos. Genuinely coos at you, "oh you're really gone, aren't you?"

The humilation has you hot, and your body completely gives in. Your thighs clench tight, pressing together so helplessly, your breath hiccuping in response.

Gojo laughs, for real this time, and he's glimmering. "You are, ohh, you really are."

He leans in, lips still refusing to touch your body, and it hovers just narrowly, brushing along the curve of your chest.

"All this fight," he snickers, "for what?"

Then— he whispers against the shell of your ear, his hand cupping your throat so gently. "Say it baby," he exhales quietly, teasing his breaths."Tell me I was right."

You're thoughtless, completely and utterly broken down that all you can manage to hardly whisper out is a tiny, "please."

Gojo's grinning, completely still as he feels you squirm.

Tears form at your eyes, and you breathe, tight. "Please," You whimper again, the desperate word clinging to your parted lips.

"Hmm." He drawls out his hum.

"Try again."

Tears nearly fall, and your breaths stagger. You twitch, your stomach tight with an unbearable heat.

"Please," you say louder this time— no less pathetic.

His laugh hits you somewhere deep, the blow settling in your stomach. "That all babe?" He brushes against your cheek, grinning wide, so harsh, so mean.

"That's the best you can do?"

The weight of his taunt suffocates you, but it's still not enough.

"C'mon sweetheart, you can do better."

You whimper, so loud, so drawn out, and so broken that he chuckles.

"Can't give up that easily."

His fingers tap at your jaw, his touch forcing you to stare at him.

"Tell me what you want." He moves to your lips, so close he could just press against them.

He whispers, "What you really want."

You know what he's asking. And still, your lips press into a tight quiet line.

"Oh? Nothing?" He purrs. His head tilts, making the distance between you and his lips so tantalizing.

"You were so noisy a second ago." He hums, mocking confusion.

"Shy?" His smirk widens, "or is it that you know the moment you say it," his mouth drops, just about to touch yours. "You lose."

That hits you, and you drag your lip in subtly, the thought spiking something.

"Don't worry princess." He strokes your waist so nicely, that it makes you arch into him just so he could pull away.

"I can wait."

Just like that, he stops.

His fingers, his breath, his teasing ghost trails, gone.

The warmth of his body pressing against you, a faint memory. Your chest tightens, a panicked ache blooming in the heat of your stomach.

And he's still. Watching.

You open your mouth, nothing follows at first. And then— a noise a tiny strangled cry, a pleading little sound that you don't even notice.

Still, it does nothing. His grin is cruel, sharp, he's merely just entertained.

Your fingers twitch and you have a terrible need to reach, to grab at him. You're trembling, and the words tumble out before you can stop them.

"Please."

It's quiet, so soft, barely even a whisper.

His head tilts, the grin remaining.

"Please what?" He asks.

There's a lump burning in your throat as you try to swallow, trying to push away the ache, the starvation that's been building for so long.

The words fall.

"Please.. I want you."

It's the way you say it. So fragile, so ruined, like your pride had been completely stripped, and he loves it.

"That’s all you had to say, sweetheart."

His lips are agonizingly close to yours, the distance doesn't close, he's still, making you feel the heat from the slow exhales that burn over your skin.

The tension is unbearable, like a wire about to snap, and you move, shoving forward to kiss him— only for him to pull back at the last second.

A cry leaves your throat, his smirk sharp as he trails the tiniest line up your side.

The frustration is boiling, and as a tear is ready to fall, his lips just barely brush against yours. A pitiful ghost of contact that has you aching.

Then finally.. slowly, oh so slowly, he kisses you.

Not rough, not hungry, no, it's deep, agonizingly slow. He takes his time, letting you feel everything. The slow parting of his lips, just the barest trace of his tongue prodding yours as he kisses you.

His touch is unbearable, unmoving, pulling you flush against him, his fingers pressing so lightly, it's enough to keep you shivering and begging for more.

You press closer, trying— wanting so bad to take more, but he refuses. His grip is enough to keep you right where he wants, and your breath hitches into him, so desperate.

Your fingers curl at his shirt, and you're whining into him, making small little muffled noises. His lips are so soft against yours— excruciating.

Until finally, he deepens.

So miniscule, but it's enough to completely destroy you.

He tilts your head back, fingers tangling in your hair as he kisses you a tiny bit closer.

His teeth scrape against your bottom lip, and you barely have time to gasp as his tongue slips past your lips.

It's slow, burning, and he makes you feel everything.

Every roll of his tongue, every merciless inch he takes, like he's savoring the way you're helplessly against him.

He swallows every desperate little sound you make, every little whine and whimper, and your body is shaking, thighs pressing tight into him.

You want to scream, "please," but he won't allow you.

His lips part from yours, allowing your breath to hitch before he's pressing against them again, drawing out all the moans you store deep.

And just when you press harder into him, trying to get all you can.. he pulls away.

You're panting, staring at him, almost dazed, and there's a little bit of drool that runs down the side of your lips. He snickers darkly, catching it with his thumb.

"Now, that’s a sight I could get used to."

He breathes against your lips, almost tempting you to jump against him, just so he can shut you down.

His fingers curl into your thighs, and on instinct you're whimpering desperately. He presses a finger against your lips, "shh.." he hushes you down so softly, and leaves just the tiniest ghost of a kiss against your lips.

"Try and pretend you don’t want me next time," He chuckles, mockingly patting your cheek as you heave.

His fingers drift, a last tease against your neck before he steps back.

"See you around, sweetheart," he smiles, waving a nonchalant hand before the door clicks behind him.

You don't move.

The silence stretches, suffocating.

You finally exhale, your whole body weak.

[notthecutesttrash]

No Love Lost

Satoru Gojo x sister! reader

This is PLATONIC

Content: Gojo is your big brother that you hate so much. You'd do anything to get him out of your life, but he's overbearing and simply won't allow that.

Warnings: ANGST, Gojo is protective and annoying, but he's Gojo.

Word count: 7.2k

With every fiber of your being, you hate Satoru Gojo. When you wake up, you hate him, in your dreams you hate him, when you eat you despise him, and when you lock eyes with him you want to punch him.

Reading is a nice activity, your brain quiets, and at times the words come to life and vacuum yourself inside its world. Satoru was there, and you hated that he was. He's bored, and you know he is, for he has so few friends that his main time was bothering his kid sister who didn't even like him.

He's talking, and you're ignoring him, or at least trying to. He already went on a tangent about how reading was boring and how you're a nerd, but when it didn't get through he began talking about his missions. His special grade, super fun, and classified missions that he couldn't tell you about, yet you hear about every detail anyway.

"So then I went up, and this dude tried to pick a fight with me almost right away, I mean seriously, it was pathetic. He didn't even last more than a second. I mean, why go on this whole supervillain monologue if you can't even handle a punch? Of course, the punch was by me, if you punched him that'd be different. He probably would've lasted a minute."

You turned the page of your book and swung your legs over the other. Right now the main character, Elaine was brushing up against her crush, you couldn't miss this for a second.

"I can't imagine what it's like being you, a grade three? If I couldn't go on these missions, I'd probably be depressed, what's the point of being a sorcerer if you can't have any use of it in the real world?" Satoru shakes his head to himself and brushes his fringe from his eyes.

Your heart is in your throat at the scene, surely they were about to kiss. They're near each other, and she's blushing, tucking a hair behind her ear. You breathe heavily, intently reading until suddenly you're staring at your hands.

Satoru reads a blurb and gags. "I can't believe you read this stuff, god that is sad, don't you think it's time for a boyfriend?" His throw lands the book gently back in your hands, and you slightly furrow.

"There's only so much protecting I can do anyways.

You get up from your chair and begin walking. "Oh come on, don't be so lame, I'm just joking...You really do need a boyfriend though. But I'd feel sorry for whoever the poor sucker is." Satoru is following a little ways behind, his arms stretching behind him with a yawn.

Words fall from your lips, wrapped in a harsh tone. "I don't like annoying people. Go away."

"Speak for yourself, you and Utahime are practically besties." Satoru reaches your pace, walking beside you.

Your eyes roll. "Well, Utahime doesn't piss me off. And she has respect, for that matter."

"Why all the hate, lil sis? I'm just trying to help you." Satoru grins wide, giggling like a jerk. He wasn't, he never was, he just wanted to make you mad.

In fact, as kids, it was even worse. Your mother surely favored him since he was so special, he had one amazing ability, let alone 2. His glowing eyes always reminded you of that when you sat and ate dinner across another.

Then whenever you wanted to play, and he would repeatedly say no and to play with your stupid dolls, you'd have to go crying to mom just to get a little bit of fun. Then when you'd be stuck with Satoru during ball, he'd throw your way so hard, if you didn't dodge it would've wiped your head clean off. When it'd disappear, like always, he'd shrug and go "Looks like we can't play."

When you were readying yourself to go on a stroll one day, he walked out and asked what you were doing. You were tying your shoe laces and you paid him no mind until done. Letting yourself hit the floor, you smiled and said "Going for a walk."

Before you could even make two steps, he flat-out said "No." You turned to him, narrowing your eyes.

"What do you mean, no?" You emphasized, annoyed.

"As in, no, you're not going for a walk, because you can't." Satoru was stoic, and his eyes simply glowed at you.

You crossed your arms. "And why can't I?"

"Because I forbid it." He said matter of factly.

You laughed dryly at that. "Oh pardon me, I didn't know you were dad. Yeah, I don't think so, I'm going for a walk. I know it hurts to see me have fun, but suck it up and deal with it, just like I do every day."

He stayed quiet for a moment, and you met his gaze bravely, both unwavering. The level of anger rising in your chest was surreal, who did he think he was? Then he turned and went back inside and you scoffed and said "Didn't think so."

It was only a few moments that had passed before your mother and father dragged you back, exclaiming in worry that you were unfit to do these things. You saw Satoru on their side, staring at you when you tried to reason with them.

"It's just a walk! Are you serious? You let Satoru go on walks almost every day!" You were gesturing angrily with your words at this point, and your mom sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"That's because Satoru is strong, (Y/n), he inherited the limitless and six eyes, what if something happened while you were on your own? We'd have no way of knowing, and you wouldn't be able to handle it." She smiled a little as if hoping you'd just understand suddenly, that realization would hit your mind and you'd go "Ah okay." But instead, you were glaring at your brother, a fury gnawing at your clenched jaw.

"I hate you." You said before walking off, and you remember your parents gasping and saying how rude that was, and to come back and apologize at once. Satoru didn't say anything, he didn't follow your steps or track you.

You ignored them. The two people who were supposed to advocate for you, the two people who could really say something and let you do whatever you wanted. But they never did, he always said something about how "dangerous" anything was and swayed them instantaneously.

That was the first time you said it.

As a kid, you would even throw out, "I'm never going to speak to you again!" over and over until it never meant anything. But it does now.

You slammed your door as hard as a child can muster and repeated to yourself until then that you would hate him forever.

The next memory that you thought of so vaguely, was when you were on a date with a man you really liked. Maybe it wouldn't have worked, but you didn't know that then.

You sat across him, having several good conversations after another, and a few times he made you genuinely laugh. Whenever he spoke, you absorbed into his words like you were reading. Whenever he laughed, you laughed, whenever he smiled, you smiled. It was infectious.

Your concentration broke soon enough as you heard a chair screeching against the floor of the restaurant. Others stared in disdain, annoyed at the sudden intrusion to their ears. You didn't even want to look. Somehow, you had a feeling, you didn't know how, but you just did.

When you turned, Satoru was there, pressing his chair uncomfortably close to the table, and turning it towards him, so he could sit and lean his arms against the back of it. His jaw rested against the top and he watched you two with a sudden grin.

The heat of shame enveloped your cheeks and soon made your hands stammer with discomfort. Your date blinked awkwardly at him, and you held your forehead in your hands, scared of what he was going to say.

"Hey lil sis," he grinned, eyeing the man across you. Eyeing was an understatement, he was flat out making him uncomfortable, and your date shifted in his chair as gently as he could without arousing suspicion.

You wanted to argue right then and there if not for that man, you wished so bad you did.

"So tell me, what brings you here?" Satoru flat out asked, his face inching uncomfortably close to your date. The man scooted a little away, clearing his throat. Safe to say, he didn't know how to respond, naturally you wouldn't have either, especially not in front of your crush and their sibling.

Before he could even get a full response, Satoru started weirdly quizzing him. From "Gotta job?" to "Top 3 favorite movies, go!"

Your hand was gripping your fork tight, and the rage had you shaking in your seat as you watched him try to familiarize himself. Your food was becoming chopped liver, and he barely cared that this was breaking your boundaries by a long shot. He couldn't have just done this at any other moment, or simply have had the decency to ask.

"Let's say someone held a gun to your head, just figuratively speaking of course," Satoru leaned in albeit an obvious discomfort in your date "Would you hide? Run? Beg? Or would you fight?" When there was no answer he continued.

"Or you think you'd throw her in the crossfire to get some protection and cower behind her like a little girl?" Satoru's tone was a little less playful, and he lifted his shades. The blue of his eyes shone and sparkled.

"Um.." Again it was silent, and Satoru opened his mouth for another question, maybe even a rude comment for all you knew.

"Satoru." You made eye contact with him, your furrowed brows knitting tight, the flush in your cheeks burning. He returned your expression with a grin.

"What? These are important questions," he leans in close to the man again, narrowing his lids just a little, as if threatening. "I'm just trying to get to know you better." He pushes on the back of the chair, his cheek pressing at the intricate design.

Silence spread at the table, and your brother stared at the man intently, watching every little move and probably determining his entire future in one go. Eventually, it proved to be enough, and your date coughed a little and gently placed his napkin down. He was staring at you like a meek little prey, begging for your help, but you just ignored him, stabbing at your food in an upset, and managing to take a few bites while ignoring the scene completely.

"I think... I should go.." He stood and hesitated, pondering if he should say anything else, perhaps an "I'll call you later," or "It's okay," but instead he just nervously nodded at Satoru and walked off. You knew it was going to happen, and finally, you stopped eating, feeling a sickness in your stomach.

Satoru observed him until the moment he ultimately walked out of that door and was gone completely. "What a letdown, the guy didn't even have a decent movie to pick when I asked, how lame-" he kept talking, and talking, and talking, and you sat there, silent, glaring holes into your meal, your sweaty hands just shaking.

You whispered to yourself, "Unbelievable."

"I know right? Dude is definitely the type to run for his life if anything happened, and worse he can't even see curses, how do you expect him to do anything then? I can't be with you all the time you know, what if a grade 1, or worse a special grade appears, what do you do with a loser like that?"

You politely leave your fork at the side, and with all the fury coursing through your veins, somehow in a split second, your food is thrown at Satoru. It didn't hit him, but that wasn't the point, and he finally stopped.

You rummaged through your bag furiously and threw cash on the table before getting up to leave.

"You're unbelievable."

These thoughts always played in your mind as he walked in front of you, walking backward nonchalantly and smiling like a dork. You stopped and stared at him for a while, annoyed, and he refused to gather a hint. Eventually, through his words, you spoke, forcing him to stop.

"I hate you." Those words left your lips, and Satoru stood still allowing you to walk past him.

The more you walked, the less he followed, and finally you found yourself being completely alone and in a peaceful silence. You entered your dorm, curled yourself into a ball on your bed, and continued reading for the rest of the day.

The next morning you'd have a mission all to yourself, and you'd prove to him that you didn't need his help.

You were forming a veil over an old graveyard. The wilted grass crunched beneath your feet, and you paced quietly past dated tombstones. A gust of wind brushed against your warm skin. Naturally, your weapon tilted in response, and you held it tight with a clammy grip. Grade 4 curse or not, a tightness in your chest prevented you from feeling fearless.

A flicker of blue appeared and vanished at your side, and instinctively you whirled your head to an empty space. It was quiet save for your small breaths, and your fingers trailed against one of the icy tombstones. A groveling noise alerted you. Harsh jarring cries and your head was whipping around to find its location.

"Mom, why'd you have to die.." A sad slurred voice mumbled, and when you turned to your right, you found it. A mass amalgamation sitting at a grave and cradling its oversized puffy legs to its giant irregular head.

"Oh Mom," it trailed again, its voice tuning in and out. You got into a readied stance, and it wasn't even paying attention to you. Blood lurched from its eyes, peeling from its lips as giant fingernails ripped its skin down.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a small knife and pitched the blade towards the curse, hoping it would get its attention.

The creature made a drawled-out long moan when It poked its skin and fell to the ground with a thud. The head rotated to you with a sickening twist, and your eyes met for a long beat.

Suddenly a sharp jab smacked you in the side and sent you flying. Your back fell to the floor and with a grunt, you instinctively touched your ribs that squealed in pain. Weapon still in hand, you forced yourself to stand and ready yourself.

The curse moved like goo, jiggling with every movement it made, and leading a path of slime in its wake. Rushing towards it, you swung your blade and carved a deep cut inside its abdomen. Dodging an attack, you did the same towards its back and jabbed your foot into its spine.

The creature tripped and caught its balance in time to turn around and swing at your cheek. Again you bounced on your back and slammed into the ground. Its heavy steps stomped and slushed against crinkled grass. Exhaling a grunt, you pressed your hand into your ribs and forced yourself to stand. You weren't going to go down that easily.

Its large fist aimed at your chest, and you rushed away just in time to press your shoe hard against the back of its knee, making it moan and falter. Your other hand sliced at its skin just barely before it spun and it attempted to land you square in the jaw.

You moved, and it repeated into a trade of jabs and cuts until eventually it found an opening and swung its knee into yours, making you reactively grab it. You were swept off your feet, this time slamming your side against a tombstone.

Groaning, you tried to get up while the curse strolled to you. Blood seeped and poured down its leg, and it seemed a bit slower. It didn't seem right, all of your hits and deep stabs should've killed it by now.

"Oh, mom.." Its drawn-out words made their way to your ears once more, blood cascading down its mismatched eyes. Exhaling a sigh, you pulled your weapon closer, waiting for it to be near.

Slicing your blade into its eye, it cried out, screeching and flailing like a child. It held its damaged eye like a human and wept, repeating its earlier phrases. Growling, you punched it while it was distracted, and although you knew not to test the unpredictability of its limbs, you got greedy. All it took was for one of its hands to beat into you and your body met with a tree.

With all you've done to it, it was too focused on weeping its tears while walking to you so casually, it was insulting. Your hands pressed against the ground, and your ribs ached at the movement. It was coming closer and closer, and you were doing everything you could to stand up.

Just one last time body, one last time and you'd handle it. Mustering all your strength into your legs, you forced them to stand. You were going to do this.

Your eyes met up with the curse again, and it dripped while walking towards you. You found a plan this time. The liquid poured into the grass, its skin peeling like a fruit. You knew what to do. You got into position and held your breath, waiting.

It got a few steps closer.

Waiting.. waiting... waiting... now!

Your muscles were about to break into a sprint, and before they could do that, it stopped.

White hair. Satoru appeared in front of you like some twisted guardian angel, and before you could respond, the curse was blasted away instantaneously. Just like that, all of your work to nothing.

The silence was loud, and what felt like a minute passed before Satoru muttered an annoyed, "What a stupid mistake."

A rage rushed to your head, and your skin was already beginning to burn. Satoru rotated to you and began checking a small bleeding gash on your forehead. You didn't even know what to say, you were dumbfounded and blinded with emotion.

"Man I'm gonna kill those old geezers," he sighed exasperatedly.

"Are you serious?" You asked quietly, more to yourself than anything.

Satoru pulled back to get a read on you, "huh?" He seemed confused.

"Are... you serious?" You emphasized one more time, this time to him. Your eyes were wide, peering into his own.

"I sure as hell am, what were they thinking? Putting you on a grade 2 mission? I think the age is getting to their head—"

"It was a grade four." You reasoned as calmly as you could muster.

His expression gave you a past image of you as children. The way he'd look at you when you were annoyed and just didn't care.

"Grade 2," He stated.

You grumbled, "What are you talking about?"

"Those idiots thought it was a grade 4 and put you on the mission, they could've gotten you killed." He seemed genuinely irritated, as if saving you was so annoying.

"I was handling it just fine," you reasoned. Grade 2 or not, you were going to get it.

He scoffed at that and fell into a more relaxed position. His demeanor turned half playful, but you knew him well enough that he was hiding his anger. "Like hell you were, look at you. What was your big plan there, run him around just out of touch and wait until he trips on his own slime and finish him off there?"

When you didn't answer, he laughed, his hand pressing against his forehead, pondering the idiocy. "You're not serious are you?" He snickered dryly, shaking his head. His blue spheres were blown out as he thought of what he was going to do to those guys back at Jujustu.

You turned to the side, a mix of shame and anger hitting you admitting that it was close to your plan. "I didn't need your help okay, grade 2 or not, I'm a grade 3, I can handle-"

"No, you can't." This time Satoru was serious, and he was scowling. "You should barely even be a grade three, the only reason you are is because I felt pity and spoke up about it. I know you can't handle it, and I should've never expected you to."

The way your lips spread in a gasp had your comeback quieting. "What..?" You just barely whispered, and when you continued, your words croaked out like it was the hardest thing to say. "But I am a grade three, I worked for that, I practiced.. every day."

You inhaled a deep shaky breath at the thought, but at remembering that this was just Satoru, who never believed your accomplishments anyway. You seethed, "I am, you just don't think I am, you always think I'm weak." Your voice was starting to rise, and you were losing yourself in a fit of anger and nearly stomping like a kid in a tantrum and jabbing your finger at his chest.

"That's because you are lil sis, do you think without my help all these years you'd really be alive right now?"

That sentence made you growl, and he thinking that the conversation was done, started casually walking away like nothing. He was not going to get away, not this easily, not without any repercussions just like every single time.

"What is your fucking problem?!" Your shout made him briefly pause.

"My problem?" He asked like you were crazy. Satoru makes his way back to you, watching how you wince at the throb in your bones, yet still somehow find a way to gesture at him.

"My problem? My problem is that I can't walk away for 10 fucking minutes and leave you alone to get some peace, instead, I'm stuck babysitting for the rest of my life."

"And you think I want you to babysit me? You think I don't want some freedom? You know what... if I die... I die, that's it, end of the story, and better yet, if I die and you had the power to stop it, don't ever feel bad," you laugh sharply, not even thinking before your words at all.

"Because when I'm about to die, I don't want to see you, and even when I'm dead, I don't want you 10 feet near my fucking grave."

It became quiet for a still moment, and the air felt tense. There was a lump in your throat, but you were so filled with resentment you couldn't stop.

"Mom and Dad aren't here right now, it's just you and me, and you think that because of that, I'm grateful to have you here? That because you're a special grade and I'm the weak little sister that you feel like I'm a civilian under your wing? Just.. fuck you, I'm tired of you. I'm tired of you in my goddamn face acting like we'll ever be friends, not with how you treated me as a kid. Not how you treat me now." By the end of your rant, you were practically panting in a fit of rage, your face beet red, and your index still pressing into his chest.

Satoru was quiet, unreadable, and again, just like when you were kids, he had that face that looked as if he didn't care, or as if he knew he was right. You inhaled sharply in an attempt to relax.

"You.." you started again, and already knowing where this was going to end up, tears were forming, and the tightening of your throat made it impossible to speak without a sob leaving.

"You're supposed to love me.." You barely managed to utter, a few cracks in your sentence. His form visibly slumped, and his jaw clenched. You turned your back to him and crossed your arms, a heavy pout turning your lips. You made a move to walk away, and Satoru's hand tugged at your shirt.

He pulled you over his shoulder effortlessly and held you there tightly. It wasn't like you to not flail around and smack him flat in the shoulder, but you stilled. Your rib hurt anyway, and the last thing you wanted to do was break it. That wasn't really the reason why. You gave up, but you couldn't let anyone know that.

He started walking, and because he wasn't able to see, a few tears fell, and you wiped them away before it became a storm.

The walk was silent, and Satoru hardly ever is. But you knew he must've been mad, and admittedly that felt worse. This is just how it was. It's like nothing ever changed in this moment.

In an effort to get yourself comfortable, as much as could be, your body seared with discomfort, and you limped with a sigh. You're tired. You think a nap after all this would do you good.

Your lids gently closed, the swarming headache stinging a little less.

Satoru could feel you sleep, and his hand pressed tighter against your legs in fear you might fall. He knew he wouldn't drop you, he wouldn't drop anyone, not with his strength alone, but he worried and told himself, just in case.

When you woke up the next day, your injuries were all wrapped up. Bandages stretched from your back to your front, and when you tried to get up, it hurt your sides like hell. Laying back down, you sighed, studying your ceiling fan that very lightly circled.

Upon notice, you saw that at your side above the nightstand, there was a stack of books. Not many that you haven't read, and plenty your type. Gently reaching out so as not to strain, you very slowly pulled one into your lap. It was a red hardcover with light pages that had a maximum of a few hundred.

After reading the first few in your boredom, your teeth were already dragging your bottom lip in anticipation. And when you placed it down for a break, you surveyed your room. The blinds were shut tight as if someone was afraid that light might force you from your slumber.

Again, you forced yourself to get up, ignoring how your sides ached. Your legs were shaking once your feet hit the floor, and they were so sore it felt like stone. An incoherent grumble left you once you got off the bed. Pressing your hand into your ribs, you found yourself shouting when you attempted to make a step.

In an instant, your door slammed open, and Satoru stood for a few seconds, watching how you leaned your hand against the nightstand to balance yourself.

"Are you stupid or something?!" He shouted, and before you could even answer he had you sitting down forcefully and his hand held you there when you tried to push your weight to stand again.

Groaning, you smacked his hand away, "Leave me alone Satoru, I can do just fine." Usually with that, he would drop it, but it remained, and you shot him a dirty look.

"You're not moving until they say you can move, so lay back down." Your scowl persisted, and you were mentally jabbing holes into him.

Satoru gave you a look he had never given you before. He glared so darkly that you wavered. His hand pressed your shoulder down and he gently lowered your upper half so you wouldn't feel pain.

"And what am I supposed to do? Sit here for 3 months staring at the ceiling?" Huffing, you complied and laid down in a decent position.

"That's why I got you books." Satoru tapped at them. "All the gooey, mushy, trashy romantic books you can want," he went back to joking, but you didn't respond. You surveyed him while he fluffed your pillow, and folded sheets over your body.

His eyes crinkled just a little bit more, the blue of his eyes was unsettled, and his lips pouted just slightly. "Did you sleep?" You asked. He raised a brow as if it was a dumb question.

"Obviously, why?"

You hummed. "Nothing." Then added, "So when can I get up?" You made sure to add some spite to that sentence.

"Until I say so." He responded, and just because of that little authority he always managed to pull out, you scoffed, unable to hide the irritation. You left it at that, and it was quiet for a few minutes as he still kept organizing your sheets.

Neither of you met each other's glance, and it was a swift match on who could advert the fastest when found. Eventually, the tense silence was broken, and he spoke.

"I know you hate me, you're annoyed, but I don't care." You peeked up at him, then glared at your wall.

You grumbled under your breath, "You never did."

Satoru didn't respond this time, and when he was finally done fixing your sheets, he made his way to your door, then as he was about to close it after him, he declared, "I always did," then left.

Rolling your eyes, you spun to your good side and faced the wall, all your thoughts about your past rushing to you.

Your mother politely dragged a knife through her steak and with each portion, she lifted it to her lips so calmly and ate, dabbing her handkerchief to her lips after. Why couldn't you do that? She looked so graceful, and you just wanted to copy her, but when you tried the knife kept bouncing off the meat and dragging loudly against the plate.

Grumbling, you tried again, and your steak nearly flew out. The anger overtook your small little hands that pounded at the table in respite. Again you tried, and when it didn't work you frowned.

Satoru let out a small sigh and removed himself from his seat. His hand grabbed at the knife and he pulled your plate to his angle and began slicing perfectly little thin pieces. The meat was tender, red, and juicy beneath its skin, and when he even offered you a portion, you opened your lips and chewed it with a pout. You were mad, so mad, but the steak was delicious, and you couldn't erase the shame of not being able to just do this one thing for yourself.

"Do you like it?" He asked, and you mumbled a yes as he fed you another slice. If you didn't, he'd have someone instantly prepare it again after all. Eventually, he sat, and you glared at your plate, glancing between him and your parents who so nonchalantly ate. His face was stoic, and you were sure he was annoyed.

After a while of contemplating if you should eat the rest, you did, all with disdain.

You practically finished a book within 3 days. You laid it at your side and studied the ceiling. There wasn't anything interesting about it, nothing new, no curves, grooves, or chips. Your eyes were drooping, falling ever so slightly at every circle the fan revolved in.

On your bookshelf, there was a small activity book, one of those that you write in and play little games like word searches and whatnot. You kept it there for a while, probably had it since you were 12, but you needed to do something besides just laying here and only occupying your mind.

Satoru isn't here, and he won't be for a while doubtfully. It's been 3 days, that's still better than day 1, so surely you can just get up and pluck it from its bond. Or, you could just wait until he was back, and ask for it. But then he might be offended that you didn't care to read the books he brought for you, and besides, you didn't want to harm your pride by even showing you needed the slightest bit of help.

Were you that petty? Yeah.

Lifting your upper half, a throb rang in your side, and despite this, you planted your feet firmly on the ground. You bit back the grunts and mumbles and made your way to the shelf. Once you were there, you heaved a few breaths, already feeling winded. Your heart was stammering, but you just had to grab it.

It was on the tallest shelf, of course, it was, and you stood on your toes. Your calves were hard and tightened to stone, leaving you anchored to the floor. Cussing, you pulled all your weight and attempted to touch just the top before your finger slid off and fell.

Your teeth were gritting, and you again tried, fingers shaking at the attempt. A hand touches your arm, gently guiding yours down before it reaches out and grabs the book for you, just effortlessly. Your feet drop, and the wince that follows is inevitable.

"You're really doing this again?" Satoru asked, his voice holding a familiar irritation.

You swat his hand away and turn to walk back on your own. "I don’t need you to play nurse. I’m fine, okay?"

Satoru raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he watches you. “You’re not fine. You’re barely standing.”

"It was just to get a book Satoru, relax. Did you think I was going to go outside and start jogging?" Your sarcasm always rose with the frustration, rooting you in place. He wasn't going to allow you to stand with your injuries for the sake of mindless arguing, so first he shut you up and swept you off your feet like some bride.

Huffing, you flicked at his chest with your index and thumb, rolling your eyes. "Can you stop treating me like I'm a porcelain doll? The bed is right there, I did fine getting up by myself." Satoru laid you down gingerly, even did so much as flipping your pillow so you could feel cool. Still refusing to answer, he checks your bandages and when he confirms they're still fine, he pushes your legs down and forces your body to relax whether you want to or not.

“I’m not treating you like anything. But you're not getting up, and I’m not watching you hurt yourself over some stupid pride,” he retorted.

There's a minute of silence, and you're adverting your gaze out of pure pettiness. Satoru sat beside you, the weight easing the mattress down.

“You can be mad all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re stuck here for a while,” he said, a small lingering softness in his tone. He places the book you wanted by your side, and you open your mouth just partially.

You glance at him from the corner of her eye and a wave of irritation hits you. You aim to voice something sharp but don't. Instead, you lay back against the pillow and cross your arms.

"I don't want your help.." you mumbled. The thought of stupid scenes like him cutting your steak, or intervening on your date rushes back. You want to hate him so much, you really do.

He never stops hovering and making everything about him, pushing his help on you when you never needed it. You hate the idea of him thinking you can’t handle things on your own. You're not helpless.

But no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you want to shake him off, he’s always there. Always trying to protect you, and always being there before you could even let yourself fall.

"I'm still here though, whether you want it or not," he declared, and a heavy pout formed.

You mumbled, "Yeah.. whatever.." A moment passes, and you flicker your glance more to the side, holding your arms tight against you. "Can you get me a pencil..?" Satoru laughs, genuinely.

"Gonna draw out all your frustrations?" He asks smugly.

"I'm going to draw me stabbing you." You joke, biting back a laugh that makes you grin wide. You still weren't meeting his gaze, but his grin was returning, and he knew it was a joke.

"Show me when you're done, I'll give you a gold star and put it on my fridge." Satoru chuckles, and the laugh you are holding escapes.

"Shut up." You shake your head, rolling your eyes. "Go away, I want to read now."

Satoru nods, and the weight disappears at your side.

By the fourth week, Satoru was giving you your space. It didn’t mean he wasn’t eyeing you carefully whenever you stood or walked around, but he didn’t fuss over every little thing as he did at first.

You sat by the window, your arms draped over your knees. The frown on your face deepened, the weight of it pressing into your forehead as you gazed longingly at the outside world.

"You could at least try reading some of the books I got you," Satoru teased, a playful edge in his voice, though the tension between you two lingered. "I had to stand there for over an hour, hearing women gush about them."

You stared at a pretty blue jay that landed atop a branch, a tiny bit of envy stirring in you.

"I already read two and a half," you huffed, pressing your palm to your cheek. But really, your thoughts were elsewhere, on the world outside. The need to be out there gnawed at you, like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Satoru grinned yet he made sure to keep his distance, knowing your patience had a limit. “Well, that’s a good start. Could be three soon enough.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you studied the window, your thoughts swirling like a storm. His words barely registered. Satoru noticed how your gaze followed the blue jay as it flew away, the disappointment turned your features.

After a moment, he stood from the chair, his gaze softening as he studied you, quiet for a second longer than usual. Then, he gestured toward you. “Come on, let’s go.”

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. “To where exactly? The wall?”

Satoru just chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “Outside. Smart ass, come on.”

You froze, before rushing to your feet with a gasp, excitement mixing with a usual rush of nerves. His hand found your shoulder just as you moved, his touch warm but firm, and he forced you to sit down. “Relax, not like that. If I see you running, I’m dragging you right back inside.”

You huffed, a sudden irk clenching your jaw, "why are you always like this?" You grumbled, shooting him an exasperated look.

"Because if I wasn't, you'd be so stubborn that you'd end up recovering in 12 weeks instead of 8." A pout befell you. That was true, but you didn't need him to say it.

Satoru flicked you, "Don't be a brat, if you're gonna drill holes at the floor, do it outside and sulk there."

"I'm not sulking," you bit your cheek, "and I'm not being a brat."

Satoru laughed, patting your shoulder. "Right, that's hilarious, now go before I change my mind." Despite his playful tone, his grasp was a little reassuring.

"Well, I still don't need you hovering over me," you pointed out.

He took a step back, tightened his grip only momentarily, and spoke firmly, "Well I'm not asking for permission."

Scoffing, you got up and forced yourself to walk to the door. Your hand stretched out, fingertips touching the knob and lingering at the cold that hit you. It took a while before you could really place your hand over it fully and use force to turn it. Upon opening, you felt happy, a realization hit you, and it was like your feet were anchored in nerves.

Satoru waited patiently, and you glanced back at him, unsure. Was he going to close it or lead you around like you were a scared puppy? When you blinked at him, he smiled warmly, and you bit your lip. It almost felt like a test.

You stepped out quietly, pausing for a few seconds. The breeze hit you once you crossed the threshold, and you hadn’t realized how much you missed the plush green grass and the pretty flowers at Jujutsu. Tears brimmed at your eyes, and you wiped them quickly away.

Satoru followed, stopping a few feet away and leaning against the wall as he watched you. You wanted to run, to rush out and scream, to release every frustration you had buried. But instead, you stood there, taking in the moment. It was so peaceful.

You sat at the edge of the porch, your feet hanging off the steps as you watched the grass sway in the wind. The purple flowers pressed together, moving in unison as the breeze swept through. The sun’s gentle rays warmed your skin.

Satoru took a seat beside you, giving you just enough space to not disturb the quiet. You turned to him, smiling, and at that moment, you knew it would be okay. He returned your smile softly as if he understood too.

It was quiet for many minutes, maybe even an hour, as you sat there and stared at the sky. You watched as lazy clouds transitioned slowly, drifting across the blue. Your chest felt warm, and you let your feet dangle freely.

Satoru’s eyes flickered to the sky for a moment, but they didn’t linger. He was tired—too tired. The dull ache behind his eyes told him everything. The weight of the silence pressed against his shoulders, and a noticeable slump in his posture gave away the fatigue that settled in like a heavy blanket.

He could feel your gaze on him, and for once, he didn’t want you to see him like this. He would never admit it, but his breaths grew shallow. He was starting to droop.

You touched his shoulder lightly, and he blinked up at you. "You should sleep. I'll be fine."

His expression softened for just a second, a hint of gratitude breaking through the usual guise. A small sigh escaped him, but he quickly masked it with a forced grin.

"What makes you think I’m falling asleep?" he scoffed, trying to convince both you and himself.

You softly sighed, a frown tugging at your lips. "Just go to sleep. You've earned it."

A wave of guilt washed over you, and you tried to mask it with a quick smile. He caught it, and a warm, unguarded grin spread across his face.

There was a quiet understanding between you both. The calmness of it was new, and you didn’t realize until now just how much it meant.

You turned back to the scene, watching as the sun slowly settled, the warmth leaving your skin in the waning light. You could hear Satoru press back against the wall and release a gentle, tired breath. His eyes closed, and when you turned to look at him again, you saw the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

You sat close, leaning against the wall beside him and closing your eyes to sleep. For once, you felt an unwavering peace beside him, and you wanted nothing more.

[notthecutesttrash]

Nostalgia

Content: Sukuna found himself intrigued by your spunk, and when he notices that Yuji is struggling to overpower him one day, he finally has a little fun.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ DARK, NONCON, readers a bit obnoxious at first, time skip for obvious reasons, Smut, suffocation, no like actually, blood, loss of virginity, fingering, hair pulling, spanking

Word count: 4.3k

The school is blatantly empty today, which was rather boring. You had decided from the moment you woke up, that this would be the day you saw Sukuna’s supposed vessel. How disappointing to notice everything so empty, like an abandoned building. No Gojo, no other first years, whatever. It was all lame. 

Huffing to yourself you open the door to another spacious classroom with zero people intact. You thought to even check the nurse’s office, only to see Ieiri doing who knows what with the bodies there. She turns up at you as blood adorns her lab coat,  “Oh, hey, what’re you doing here?” You blink and close the door. She shrugs and diverts her attention back to work. 

Where else could they be? Principals room? Sealed room? Ah possibly there. 

You make way for the chambers, passing the empty hallways. The year above you's class is more than interesting. There's a panda, a dude who speaks in rice ball ingredients, and a zen’in lady. The lady was also able to keep up with your rude remarks which was amusing.

As you walk you hear small far away grunts. Humming, you curiously begin to switch directions, and near the sounds of groaning and “Hyah’s!”

From far away, you’re able to see a faint, puffy pink-haired man slapping a training dummy with a weird fuzzy blade. He’s so caught up in training that he doesn’t notice you, so you watch, judging his stance and how he struggles while dragging his breaths.

He’s doing it all wrong.

Though you’re amused at the pure confidence brimming in his expression; he was almost cute it's laughable. Eventually, that makes its way from your mouth, and he shifts to you, completely oblivious that you were even there that whole time. He’s a bit taken aback, and you near closer to see him.

“Um.. who are you?” He asks, dumbfounded. 

You press your hands to your waist ignoring the question and direct one back at him “Are you a first-year?” 

“Yeah. Are you one of those second years? Did you guys already come back from your mission?” 

You shake your head, and point to him exclaiming loudly, “No, I’m with you! Yuji Itadori!” 

He blanks, “Uh.. okay..” you squeal, throwing your hands in the air. 

“I knew it! Sukuna picked you? Look at that, you’re so innocent looking, you’re not even holding that blade right.” You giggle to yourself obnoxiously and he tilts his head, a small flicker of annoyance inside him. 

“Actually, he didn’t pick me, I just swallowed one of his fingers and-“ you cut him off with a sound of disgust. 

“You did that willingly? Ugh, how interesting, what did it taste like? Was it crunchy? Gooey? Was it old?” 

He ponders for a moment before answering, “Old, definitely old, and wrinkly.. and his fingernails are sharp.” 

“Ew.” You cringe at the thought, and he tilts his head to ask, “So, what are you here for?” 

Shrugging, you think. “I just wanted to see,” you answer vaguely. Being Sukuna’s vessel is more than interesting, considering it’s been what, hundreds of years? 

He opens his mouth to speak and you look at his cursed tool, probably one that was given to him by Gojo. Something in you wants to admit the morbid curiosity of seeing Sukuna, but in reality, you know that would be terrible.

“So, how does that work? Do you just have him inside of you? Does he talk? Do you hear him? See him like a ghost and he talks to you, is he standing here right now?” You ramble all your ideas at him and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. You were definitely weirding him out.

“No nothing like that, though I do hear him every now and then. It’s sort of annoying.” He points to the back of his hand, “or he’ll show here.” You tilt your head, weird. 

You move close to him, enough to invade his personal space. You lift your hand and he’s confused, then you dive it down on his head, patting the fluff. 

Beaming, you pet him mockingly while cooing, “I heard you’re going on your first real mission tomorrow, how exciting.” 

Yuji lightly slaps your hand away, grumbling, “Can you not do that?” he steps back so you would no longer be at arm’s length.

You smile. Truthfully, you were planning on being more annoying. Why? Well, you're not sure. You quite liked him instead, he was cute, and you know you're going to enjoy teasing him often. He's still fussing over his hair as you think until you twirl away with a laugh.

“Hey, tell Sukuna I said hi when he saves your ass from death.” You stick your tongue out at him and Yuji furrows his brows immediately. That annoyed him.

Safe to say, Sukuna was definitely amused by you since then.

Yuji is your boyfriend, and he's someone you love to death even if you can still tease the heck out of him. But you've calmed since then. And through the years nothing ever came of Sukuna. Many times you had even forgotten he existed.

Occasionally you two would get food together, and sometimes you had a morbid curiosity when remembering after all this time. 

“Does Sukuna still talk to you?” You’d ask and he’d turn his head to the side with a grave expression. He knows, but he never admits.

“No, not really," he'd mumble to himself. You’d nod in response, giving him a knowing gaze. Was it really that bad? 

Yes. 

From the day he first met you to now, all that was always on the curses mind was how he just wanted to kill everyone and have fun with the punk’s lively girlfriend. Luckily, that day never came, and it never will. 

That was until.. he got sick of course. 

You’re patting the washcloth against Yuji’s head, a worry setting a deep frown on your face. His breathing is heavy, and he's panting with a newfound flame that burns in his forehead. He’s hotter than you’ve ever felt, it was almost inhuman. No reverse curse technique seemed to have been helping, no doctor, no medicine, no bath, no rest, just nothing was working. 

You’re rushing to look through Yuji's cabinets. There has to be something here that you haven’t seen before. No simple pain medications would help, nothing generic. You pick up a bottle, maybe this one? It was a herbal medicine, and you knew it was a fat chance, but you’re desperate. So you rush back to Itadori and pour him a small cup of water near the pills. 

“Hey, Yuuji.. baby,” you lightly caress his cheek, but to no avail. His skin is steaming, and his eyes are clasped shut.

You frown and take the pills in your hands, pouting at what you have to do. You open his mouth and drop the pills in lightly, holding his head up at a good position, then making sure a very small amount of water is poured in so he won’t choke. This reminded you of something, but you weren’t sure of what. 

Setting the cup back down you stare at it, then him, then gasp as a bad thought strikes you. Sukuna. The only person who can heal him. 

You can’t do that. Sukuna only works for his own gain. He probably wouldn’t even care if he died with Yuji. But still, you won't just let that happen.

Albeit.. are you really going to allow possibly hundreds, if not thousands to die by his hands just because you selfishly want one man to live? Emotional connection or not, that wasn’t smart. Or is it?

Yuji is probably the only person who could hold Sukuna off- or not probably, he is the only person who can hold him off. Maybe besides Gojo, but that didn’t count when it came to a literal internal affair. 

Either way, the fingers are all stowed somewhere. Surely you could find one. but still, you’d rather not have the god of curses of all beings roam around. You knew Yuji wouldn’t want that either, in fact, he’d probably be disappointed.

You sigh and pat Yuji’s head, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. “Hope you get better… I’m gonna go now, okay?” You stand and stare at him, knowing he probably couldn’t hear you, or respond. You were sure he was deep in there somewhere, maybe even kicking Sukuna’s ass.

Sighing, you arrive at your home and slam your back into the bed, draping a hand over your forehead. You’re exhausted. Lately, you’ve just been spending days and nights at his house.

Sometimes you aren’t able to sleep depending on the day, this time might be one of those, but you aren't sure.

Battling with the idea of Yuji’s worsening sickness and Sukuna’s possible revival made you almost get a migraine.

You glance at the time. It’s already been a full hour, and your corneas are burning from the lack of sleep. Alright.. suppose it was time. You sigh and make yourself comfy, curling in a small ball before closing your lids. 

When you awake, there’s a blur in your eyes as you tiredly open them. It’s dark and when you glance at the window you’re thinking it’s maybe 2 AM. 3? Rolling over to your side, you pull your leg up and get comfy again, groaning at how hot your pillow now is. Lifting your head to turn it, you slam back down comfortably, a flicker of pink in your sight. Yawning, you rub your eyes and blink at whatever that could be, but decide eh, whatever, it’s your room, nothing out of the ordinary. What you needed was sleep for tomorrow. 

Shuffling, you clutch your pillow and squeeze it against you, loving the feel of the brisk cold that rubs against your cheek and satiates the heat of your neck. Closing your eyes with a small moan, a faint chuckle sounds near you. Blinking your eyes open, a jolt of fear slithers down your spine, and you raise your upper half and rotate to survey the room. Nothing out of the ordinary. You’re tired, just hearing things.

Huffing, you press yourself against the pillow again and clench your eyes shut. Just go to sleep damn it.

This time you heard an audible step. Your heart sped into your chest and you forced yourself to rotate the other way. You’re just hearing things, lack of sleep will do that to you, it’s been a long day too, so surely it’s that.

Step. It must be a curse, but you didn’t feel anything, so it had to just be you. If you go to sleep now, then it’ll all be gone. Just keep closing your eyes and when you open them again it’ll be morning.

Step. You squeaked at the sound and the creak in the floorboards. That’s when you heard another chuckle.

“How long are you going to feign sleep?” A raspy deep voice erupts a squeal from you. 

Turning shakily, you struggle to adjust to the lighting as you see a familiar figure ahead. “Yuji?” Your small voice whispers out. He grins wide. No, something was not right here. Yuji didn’t have markings or whatever this was on him, and he never kept his bangs back.

When you glanced down to study his body you froze. There was a hole in his chest, not an incision, not a Halloween effect, a full-on hole that you could look inside of. Blood was dripping from the wound, but it seemed as if it was drying judging by the goop. 

A realization hits you, and you gasp, your body shaking under the weight of Yuji- no Sukuna's gaze. His smile is large, and his dark orbs glow red in the darkness. “Y-You’re…” you hold your breath.

“H-How..?” You’re still whispering, tremoring as nears your features. He suddenly laughs loudly, cackling horribly with that new voice of his. It echoes into your ears and makes your heart drop. This was it, you were going to die. 

“You see, I was planning on having fun with that other lively girl. But, because of the brat’s affection for you, I have decided to pick you first.” He has a rumble in his hoarse throat when he verbalizes, and a horrifying smile still paints his face. You’re stuck, shaking in your spot.

“A-Are you..” you struggle to think of the words, your voice cracking as he gleams at you. “Going to.. kill me..?” Sukuna’s grin widens, and finally, you can see the way his double pair of eyes glimmer even in the lack of light. 

“After you’ve quenched my insatiable thirst, then yes.”

He takes a moment, pausing to press his hand against his chin as he thinks. “Or perhaps I’ll bond you to a life of servitude, whatever amuses me more at the moment.”

You know he’s more than serious. You had to do anything, talk, and keep on conversing until he got bored. Reason with all your might. 

You attempt to continue as you swallow hard. “B-But… Yuji will switch back.” He had to switch back, right? Won’t he? Or does the hole in his heart not prove to you enough that he won’t be able to? 

“Unless the punk wants to die, then he’ll have to be my guest. But he seems to be struggling at the moment, so, I’m going to take my sweet time with you.”

He gets close, his finger twirling around your hair. 

You bawl your fist into the sheets. You have to escape. You have to. Your legs quietly press beneath you, as if readying for a sprint.

“If you so as flinch I’ll make quick work of your death.” 

Suddenly you’re rigid as can be, terrified that the quaking in your heart and the stammering in your hands would get you killed. All you’re doing is heaving, barely able to meet his gaze. 

“Now bow.” He commands and you quickly rush to cradle your head between your hands that lay flat against the bed. He enjoys the scene, delighting in the fear. 

A second passes, and you’re flipped on your back with a strength you’ve never felt before. It was enough to bruise you just from the sheer weight. He lifts his clawed finger and suddenly your clothes are ripped, and before you can think to cover yourself with a blanket or anything he’s over you, staring into your desperate eyes. 

He was truly a pure evil that no one could think to reach. 

Tears are forming. You’re terrified. “Please don’t,” you mutter weakly.

He cackles loud enough for you to flinch. He won’t kill you yet.

The glimmer of his teeth when he grins wide makes you gasp. He’s snickering to the point it becomes manic laughter, and it makes you sick to your stomach. It sounded nothing like Yuji. His laughs are always a lot lighter and sweet. 

Sukuna sighs longingly to himself, trailing his fingers down your body as you cry.  “It’s been a thousand years, and I will never stop delighting in these sweet whimpers.” His palm meets your cunt. He presses against your clit hard and you squeal out from the pain. He doesn’t care for your enjoyment. All he wants to do is force himself down your tight hole and release every bit of cum he's had stored up for years. 

“To believe the fool hadn’t claimed you, what a shame.. for him. A treasure to me.” He’s chuckling as he kneads your clit more. It’s impatient and mean, but it gets you wet enough. His middle finger promptly shoves inside you, and you whine at the pain, curling your toes into the bed. Blood drips from the wound, lubricating his finger to pulse into you more. Sukuna grins at the liquid, and he’s purposely speeding up his pace. 

Tears swell in your eyes. You always wanted to save yourself for Yuji. Save yourself for the perfect moment.. and Sukuna just took everything away from you. 

“A thousand years and I get a virgin, ah I just delight in it, this is going to be fun.” His eyes are glimmering wide, brimming with joy as he adds another finger. You hiss at the sudden discomfort. His other hand moves to your neck, but it pauses, just hovering above it. You gulp tightly, scared for what was to come. 

“On second thought,” he pulls away and uses his free hand instead to circle your clit harshly. You’re tensed up, quivering with the pain of him spearing you mercilessly while gasping at the pleasure of your clit.

"I wouldn’t typically allow you the pleasure to breathe, but since you’ve never felt this, your cries will satisfy me more," Sukuna grins. If it wasn’t for the need to stretch you out, he wouldn’t be doing this at all. But he enjoys the way your cunt attempts to swallow his fingers whole as if attempting to expel him. He forces another in and you gasp at the sudden intrusion. You’re hands are clutched around your sides desperately as you moan and cry.

His fingers are fucking you furiously, eventually attaining a pleasant amount of wetness from your cunt. The obscene sounds feel as if they’re blaring in the room. You’re still tense as could be, but once he finally takes them out, you slump in response, heaving in relief. 

Sukuna chuckles evilly at the slick surrounding his fingers. As if it wasn’t a moment ago that he had just broken you and stretched you wide. 

“Ah, virgins. So easily excitable.” He breathes in delight to himself. You’re quivering, attempting to remain stiff, but every time his hand grazes your skin you flinch. You forcefully drape your arm over your sight while streams roll down your cheeks. Whenever you would glimpse at him all you wanted to do was cry and run. 

There’s no remorse in him, no guilt, nothing but happiness as he lives his fantasy. 

You feel his tip suddenly poke at your entrance, and you don’t even feel how clenched up you are. Your teeth are dragging against one another in anticipation, and he attempts to push in. You can’t help but peek fearfully, and you tighten at the sight. Sukuna gazes at you, annoyed. You shiver. Did you move? Did you do something wrong?

Quickly you’re spun around, your chest landing on the bed and your face bouncing off the pillow. Your view is met with the headboard. You can’t see anymore, and you panic. Your head moves up and you attempt to turn your body to fixate on him. He forces you back down instantly with a grip on your scalp. It tightens and you're shoved into your pillow hard.

When you attempt to move, the strength increases. His sharp fingernails are grazing your skin, almost drawing blood. You can’t breathe. You try to take an inhale and you’re stopped by the force of the pillow stuffing and blocking your airway. 

Without warning your pussy is spread wide by his cock and you scream incoherently. He instantaneously groans loudly at the warmth that meets him. His gaze turns to the ceiling, and his eyes are practically rolled to the back of his head as he relishes the feeling. He’s been waiting centuries for this exact moment. This scene has been revolving in his mind since day one. The idea of forcing a helpless virgin on their knees and taking them completely.

“Ah, I thought I’d never feel this again.” He exhales a deep breath of satisfaction, “It’s wonderful."

Your tight cunt swarms around his cock, sucking him in helplessly, and he groans, a newfound lust within. You're struggling to swallow his size, quivering as you feel your pussy forcefully stretch. You cry into the pillow, convulsing beneath him. He’s usually a patient man, but not this time. 

He moves, gripping your head tight and pulling you down while he begins to pound you murderously. The brutality of his thrusts while you gasp for air has you thrashing around, adamant to get him off of you. He has no care. He'd make sure he would let out all of his frustrations from being in your punk-ass boyfriend’s body for so long. 

“Do I need to remind you of what I’ve said? That would be rather impolite don’t you think?” Sukuna breathes heavily, annoyed by your muffled screams. He rams his cock to the very end of you and back. He's huge, and it burns endlessly when he thrusts. You’re shouting against the fabric, desperately attempting to shake off the force and lift yourself for just one inhale. He was going to kill you and defile your body. This is how you’re going to die, in the worst possible way. 

He’s using you like a mere plaything. Eventually, the pressure rushing to your head starts to make your vision go dark. You limp against him as he fucks you senseless. Sukuna starts cackling, and he pulls your weak head up, watching you come to life with a heavy inhale. Tears are pouring down your cheeks, drool falling from your lips as you greedily heave. He's still bucking his hips sharply into you, slapping your ass hard.

Sukuna would've sneered, but there was a large amount of impatience beginning to surge. “Now, if I need to remind you again, then the next you won’t be breathing. Not that it matters to me. But you wouldn’t like that, would you?" His tone is dark, and you shake your head a complacent no. Anything to not go through that again. 

“Good."

He slaps your ass with a rush of strength, making you jitter against him. He pulses into you, enjoying the way your pussy is now melting into a wet slop. 

“It appears you enjoy this just as much as I.” You’re sputtering with your breaths, unable to even hear him chuckling as he slams into you. Your hair is suddenly pulled back. Sukuna is grabbing a fistful and the ache in your neck has you groaning uncomfortably. 

You’re moaning nonsensically and his pace is merciless.  “How cute, maybe I will keep you alive.” 

His tug is impossible to push back at, and you yelp when he pulls you even further. He’s still slapping your ass repeatedly and you’re squeezing tight around him at every hit. His force is painful, and he finds it amusing. He only thrusts himself to the brink of his own orgasm while yanking you like a rag doll and stretching you wide. 

You’re whining desperately as he speeds up, and a jolt of electricity rises. It pulses into a quivering release while you slur incoherently, subconsciously circling your hips into him.

Sukuna breathes hard against you, merciless excitement running through his veins as he pulls you back hard and fucks your exhausted core, all while you still ride out your climax. He finally hits deep inside of you, reaching the furthest his cock can and even more. There's a sudden warmth in your walls as a heavy thick stream of cum pours inside of you.

“How I miss this.” Sukuna exhales loudly, nearly moaning at the sweet release. His clutch on your skin is still tight, causing you to jolt beneath him. 

And It was only a few moments that had passed before he left your sore cunt, only to push himself back in and slam into you. You’re a slop, whining desperate slurs into your pillow as he fucks you senseless.

You don't know how much time passed, but it never stopped. You found yourself eventually heaving and imagining a place where this wasn’t happening. Where Yuji was alive and he was the one taking you instead. 

Sukuna had whirled you around, pushing himself deep into you, his tongue dragging against your neck. Your legs are barely gripping his as he pounds you beneath him. His grasp was tight on the sheets beside you, and you were just relieved it wasn’t on your skin anymore.

Suddenly a rush builds and you’re whining loudly, your thighs feeling a new strength as you clasp around him. Your hands don’t dare to grab him, but as you lose yourself in your orgasm you can’t help the way you claw at his back. Sukuna pulses into you and lets out another stream of cum. The eventual number you didn’t know. Tears were rolling down your face, you're tired, you just want it to stop.

“No more.. please,” you whisper desperately. 

Sukuna snickers into your neck, breathing not nearly as hard as you were. He pulls himself from your throbbing hole and you still manage to whine at the loss. Relief follows swiftly, and the cum that clogs itself inside of you drips slowly.

“Did you think a mere few climaxes would be enough for me? You truly don’t understand.” His tone gets low as he grins. “I am going to keep playing with you until I get bored.” You pant exhaustedly, barely able to register his words. You just want to go to sleep.

As quick as that relief had come, it diminished the moment he buried himself in your cunt again. You whimper and let out a choked breath, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head. His deep breath brushes your skin, his groan rumbling something deep within you. 

“And yet you have joined them all so wonderfully. It’s been so long since I had a woman keep up with me,” he beams wide with that evil sparkling in his red eyes.

“I’ve decided I’ll let you live. I’ll keep you by my side whenever I feel the need to use you.” At his words, sobs begin to overtake you. He grips your arms tight, pushing into you repeatedly and cackling maniacally.

You would never be free from that grating sound ever again. 

[notthecutesttrash]

Play Time

Content: Toji has you undergo new “training”

Warnings: 18+ Smut, pet and owner kink(reader wears a collar with a leash attached), pet training, walking, implied exhibitionism(sexual acts in public), rough oral (male receiving), degradation, S&M

To all of us ladies who bark when Toji's on screen.

Word count: 1,888

It’s been a few days since you’ve been training with Toji.

At first, you were reluctant to try, nervous as your palms pressed against the ground and he walked you. He firmly would hold the leash in his grip, attaching it to the new pretty collar around your neck. Whenever he'd tug it was up to you to learn what it meant. It was usually a wide range of commands varying from “get this,” “do that,” or “sit,” though in most cases though, it meant come closer.  

You sit beside him, Toji declaring, “You're not gonna leave my side until I say so.”

At first, you had clothes on, but after the third day, he commanded you to strip in front of him.

“Everything?” You meekly ask, and when you hesitate, he stops drinking from his can and tilts his head to the side. You didn’t realize how much you’d rather him focus on anything else but you at that moment. Shuffling under his heavy gaze, he pulls at your collar, reminding you of the leash.

The can crushes from his grip and he throws it at the floor. “I did say strip, didn’t I?”

You bite your lip, crossing your legs shyly. “Yeah..”

Toji looks impatient, and he gazes at you expectantly.

You timidly pull your shirt above your head, pulling it away from you. Your face is burning bright red, but a tingle in your core has you shaking when he watches you. Repeating to your pants, you throw them to the side, then undo your panties that awkwardly drop to your feet. It’s silent for a few seconds as he studies you. You’re fidgeting, averting your eyes while your legs tighten and rub together.

A jerk at your collar shifts your attention upwards to him, and he pats his lap. You swallow, and shyly climb over him, your bare pussy grazing against the fabric of his pants. Toji grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he dives down to your bare neck. Shivering in need, you grind against his waist as he suckles high at your skin.

Toji would never let you easily cover this up.

On the fourth day, you’re beginning to walk beside him like a trained mutt, watching him intently as he goes through the day’s routine. Most commonly that would be just sitting down and watching TV. But when he’d start cooking that was always your favorite. You were allowed the pleasure of seeing the handsome intensity of his face. Occasionally he’d reach down and feed you bits of food that you loved, and he’d linger there just a little longer so your tongue could longingly trail at his fingers. And when you’d enjoy it too much, he’d take them away while chuckling and leave you pouting.

He’s been teasing you more too. Ranging from having you stay in place while he leans down to rub your clit in slow circles, to leaving a trail of kisses down your skin, or touching your collar to adjust it when you knew it was perfectly fine. Sometimes giving you names that made you quiver, most typically, “pet.”

When he walks, your hands are more confidently keeping up with his purposely slow pace. Occasionally he’d give you a taste of the real thing, and tug at the collar, signaling for you to move faster. Toji was a fast man, and that was easier said than done. And when you’d take too long he’d smugly glance behind him to study you, practically laughing at the struggle. Still, your pussy would always clench at this, and you hoped desperately he would fuck you.

Instead, he’d yank at your neck mockingly, grinning as he claims, “We don’t got all day sweetheart, keep up the pace.”

And when you’d make out with him on the couch, he has you squealing against him when he squeezes your breasts and shoves his tongue into your mouth. Then when you’re circling your hips into him, terribly needy, he leaves you with a smirk as he watches TV. Toji is a sadist. But you’re a masochist.

When he’d get up you’d try to follow him like a lost puppy, whimpering at the change. He’d pat your head, smirking wide as he says, “Gonna be lonely without me?” Just for you to desperately nod as he laughs. Your hands would meet your knees as you quietly wait for the door to open again, pussy tingling from the scene.

A shift at your collar raises your attention, and you happily get on your palms again, following him until he lazily relaxes against the couch. Exhaling a tired sigh, Toji tugs the collar, and you begin to climb into the seat next to him. He grunts in disapproval and you blink up at him. He points at the space between his legs and you inhale, shaking with excitement. You crawl close to him, peering at him for approval.

He mockingly speaks down to you, grinning. “Want to have some fun, don't you? Pet's getting all needy?” Your breath hitches and you nod fast. “That's my good girl,” he praises, lightly caressing your cheek.

You purr at the contact and rush to pull down his pants so his cock could spring free. Licking your lips, he gives you a little tug, and you move forward. Pressing against him, you start dragging your tongue against the base of him, teasingly working your way upwards. A small groan escapes him, and his fingers press into your scalp.

Usually, he’d be forcing you down on him until you’d gag and tap for mercy, but since you’re undergoing new training, this is the kindest he’d probably ever be towards you. Not that you minded either.

Your hips wiggle as you ready yourself for him. Mouth opening around his tip, he somewhat gently tugs you down on him. Once you hit an appropriate level, you start bobbing your head gently. He hisses as you go deeper, tongue wrapping around his size needily. Toji pulls at the collar and you whine around him, struggling to remember what that meant.

“Harder.” He commands, and you comply. Sucking him at a decent pace, your hands start to grab his knees to steady yourself. You could tell with the way his fingers were twitching that he was struggling not to just mercilessly pull you to his base and keep you there. Your collar shakes and he’s firm with his words, “Look at me.”

Timidly you meet his hungry gaze, and his scarred lip is almost dragged into his teeth as he watches. You looked like just the perfect fucking toy right now. You’re lovingly moaning around him, now grasping him in your hands and continuously stroking. Wiggling your hips helplessly beneath him, probably begging for him to fuck you, all while he’s forced to just watch and play nice.

Well, fuck that.

His grip gets tighter, and you know what’s to come, collar or not. Your palms press into his knees, fingers circling harder as you prepare. Your head pulls into him and he thrusts his hips into your throat causing you to gag. So much for gentle training. You would’ve whined, but right now the thought of being forced to take the merciless thrusts made you quiver. He hits the back of your throat, hand pulling your hair into a firm lock.

The gagging furthers when he has you stuck in that position, his cock twitching in your mouth. Tears cascade at the burn, and you’re holding it for as long as you can before attempting to slap at his knee.

When he lets you go, you pull back with a gasp and begin helplessly panting. Toji tugs at you, reminding you of the collar. “Don’t forget pet,” he taunts while smirking. Nodding, you heave while rubbing his slimy cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to it.

It’s only a few seconds until he drops the leash from his free hand. You pout a little, and he bawls both of his hands into fists at the sides of your head, grasping just enough hair. He furiously drives you onto his length, and you moan, submitting complacently. He bobs you at a ruthless speed, and you nearly choke around him. The sounds of your helpless gags further his abuse until you can no longer breathe. His cock is thick as it forces your mouth wide through his cruel thrusts, and you’re slammed onto him. A few seconds pass until you’re pulled away.

Gasping, you take his cock into your hands and knead before he's even able to pick up the leash. Toji snickers, catching the bit of drool that drops to your chin and shoving it back into your mouth.

“Good pet.” Toji tightens the grip again and you open your mouth wide to embrace his cock. You’re gasping into him, struggling to catch up as he propels you forward, stretching your throat wide. His clenching forcefully drives you down, and the clutch you have on his knees tightens. He’s hissing, revealing small groans as he nears. The ache in your jaw has you whining at the way he is spearing without pause.

“Use that tongue.” He heaves a breath, cussing with a newfound strength that rushes deep into your mouth. You poorly lick at his length, and he halts to a sudden stop, sending you forward full force. An instantaneous gag breaks out when you feel the cum streaming down your throat. His index lifts your collar and pushes inside. He yanks it, and you yelp around him. He throws his head back and groans, his still hold keeping you prisoner.

Your hands wrap harshly around his pants, bunching the fabric between your fingers. You gaze up at him, tears in your eyes as he draws out a long exhale. The force from his grip releases and you’re coughing while swallowing, rushing to inhale deep breaths.

A smirk tugs at those sexy lips as he speaks. “How was that pet?” His tone is deep and lazily strung out. You loved it, but still, you pout.

“You were supposed to be nice!” You playfully gesture at him, pointing accusingly in his face. He shrugs, leaning back casually. “Ah, whatever, you’ll learn either way.”

You hmph and move to lick at his cock again. “See, look at that, don’t even have to tug at you,” Toji smirks at the way you so happily take him, your eyes glimmering, begging for approval.

“Maybe I’ll go and walk you around later for everyone to see. My naked little slut on a leash following me everywhere I go, just like a good kitty.” A jolt of arousal surges and strings sloppy pools of wetness down your thighs. Still, you can’t help the embarrassment that fills you so you remove his cock from your mouth.

Your lips part to speak and Toji glares at you. He shoves you forward with an aggressive pull forcing an escaped whine. "Did I tell you to fucking stop?” You frown, shaking your head as you lap him. It’s not long after you’re moaning softly, hungrily taking him.

Toji grins and pats your head, his arm slinging around the couch. “That’s it, baby, stay just like that,” he yawns lazily as he flicks through the TV to watch his favorite broadcast.

[notthecutesttrash]

Stop One

Content: On Halloween night you decide to meet up with your friends. Only to be stopped at the train station by a horrible sight.

Warnings: Drabble! Mahito, dark, blood, death, yandere.

Word count: 1151

There’s blood leaking towards your feet. You’re stuck in place, wide-eyed. Quivering helplessly as you grasp the scene.

Abnormally shaped figures that were once normal people scatter on the ground. All sickening sizes and colors range from purple to blue.

Your lips are pursed tight, watching as three- no five figures casually huddle around one another. One man has stitches all over his body, another with spiky hair, and the last wore a purple robe. The other two... aren’t remotely even human.

Where did this all go wrong? 

Just a few moments ago you were getting prepared to go out for Halloween. You just got off a call with your friends who invited you to a party, and you got yourself all dolled up, costume on, ready to go to the train station. Everyone around you had the same idea. Occasionally you’d get a nice conversation out of some funny cosplayers or women wearing catsuits. Hands wrapping around the metal bar, you were so captured in your talk you didn’t notice the train skidding to a stop. 

Your eyes are still caught on a lady beside you who is dressed in a bunny one-piece, adorned with matching ears. “I love your costume,” was the compliment you gave her, and she grinned, making a joke about how it was tight enough to rush off to the ER.

She then waved and you reciprocated kindly, mimicking the focus on the sliding doors. A little ding echoed as they opened and you waited patiently for everyone to begin strolling.

However a few seconds passed, and no one was still moving.

You blinked when everyone appeared rigid. Soon after sounds of shock exited people's mouths. Curiously, you had gathered onto the tips of your toes to see past the tall men in front of you.

You weren't able to see much, but your vision managed to catch a small flicker of red before your feet fell. A scream rushed out of someone nearby and you covered your ears at the sound. Ow, sheesh, did they have to do that now? 

Suddenly a figure pushed you to the ground by shoving your shoulders back. With that, the crowd followed, almost trampling you as they ran through the other door. A clear pathway to the scene was revealed, and you gasped in horror.

Blood was dripping down the sides of the pavement, spreading into a puddle that decorated the train tracks. A blue-haired man turned to the panicked crowd. He had a terribly unsettling ear-to-ear grin, and you rushed to your feet, sprinting the opposite way

A slurred mumbled voice erupted behind you. “Kill me, please, kill me.”

A weight slapped your back and you nearly tripped again. Turning, you saw a teal-morphed monster with mismatched uneven lids that were dripping with tears. Its hanging wide mouth opens to repeat the phrase, and you let out a screech as it neared you.

Your palms met the mush and drove it as far back as you could, dashing to the station's stairs. Others were desperately trying to achieve the same goal, and because of the mutual rush, you were pushed to the side.

Mustering a few steps through the mass, a pair of boots eventually slapped you in the ankle. You tumbled down the stairs and your head smacked against the pavement.

Your vision blurred, and the grunts that made their way out eased into nothing as your head lulled to the side. 

“Ugh, why do they always look the same before they die?” 

“Because they’re human.” 

“Yeah, and this is why I hate them.” 

Blinking groggily, you take a moment before managing to notice the ceiling lights blaring into your retinas. There’s an aching throb in your head and the voices that talk nearby have you wincing. Raising slowly to the sight, a small hiss escapes.

The figures ahead of you are too caught in their conversation to notice you.

At the stairs, there are dozens of bodies cascading against each other. All the people you saw shove you out of the way were lying dead in pools of their own blood. Because of the slipperiness, you're not likely to make a prompt escape there. There is a chance you might be able to dart past the group, but to where? The end of the station? And besides, there are 3 men, and 2... who knows what just standing there like nothing happened. That wasn't a good chance. Might even be worse than possibly tripping.

Steadily your palms press against the floor, readying yourself to stand. The movement of your arm shifts something to your side. Something heavy and slimy. You hold your breath as you observe a slain corpse poking your waist. Their neck is twisted horribly, and their eyes are rolled back, only white revealing. The thud of the head falls near you, echoing loudly. Gagging, you stuff your hand to your mouth, the horrified whimper escaping too quickly.

The room has an instantaneous heavy silence, and the group turns to you, a horrifying scowl accompanying their motion.

“Looks like you left one Mahito," one speaks.

“Aw really? I was sure I got them all.” The one with the rampant stitches glances your way. Sighing, he walks towards you. A gasp escapes as he nears.

You rush to crawl back, but you’re promptly halted by a wet squelch against your neck. Squealing out, the man laughs, pausing to watch the pitifulness. It's quiet as your gaze meets his and he smirks. Your pulse stammers and your mouth opens to plea.

He crouches in front of you, features a few inches from yours. It's then you can see the different colored eyes and the stitches clearly that adorn him. He hums, tilting his head.

"I think I like you. I'll keep you."

You're taken aback, completely frozen, yet he grins almost politely.

A scoff sounds from the group. “Don’t be ridiculous, we have no time for playthings.” 

The one with the spiky hair shrugs, “As long as I don’t have to deal with it."

Then another. The robed one beams nicely, though you struggled to find the sweetness in that one. “I don’t mind. Now, as long as you take responsibility and deal with it when she tries to escape.” 

The man in front of you scoffs. "That not's going to happen."

He smiles and leans closer to you, his fingers curling around your stained hair. “Because you’re going to be my pet now. Won't that be so fun?” He chuckles and you're on the verge of tears.

He pets your locks, almost loving the way it feels beneath his fingers and the way you flinch at the action. The tug at his lips stretches wider as he thinks of all the things he’s going to do to you.

And when you stared into those shameless eyes, you knew this was a fate worse than death. 

[notthecutesttrash]

Mascara and Tears

Content: You’ve escaped him before, and this time you’ve made a life for yourself. You decide one day to go out with another man and risk him finding you.

Warnings: 18+ Dark bloodlust Gojo, kidnapping, death, blood, implied noncon, yandere stuff you know.

Word Count: 2.5k

It’s been months after the first escape attempt. 

Gojo had been on a mission and left his door barely locked, it was enough for you to devise a plan to make a run for it. 

You were caught in half an hour. 

It’s been weeks after your second. 

You managed to drug him when he least expected it, leaving you to escape as quietly as possible. 

This time, you left no trace. This time, you’d be happy.

You’ve studied him well enough to know that he was capable of finding you. But he hasn’t, so you know you’ve done a good job. Still, you find yourself terrified even in the cold nights. Occasionally you’re overcome by fear and restlessness as paranoia surges through your mind. 

You’re angrily pressing your fingers into dough before your coworker Andy pats your back and saves you from the contemplation. “Treat the dough with a little respect (Y/n), it’s your friend, not an enemy,” he jokes and you force a small chuckle. 

“Sorry, just got too into it.” 

He laughs in response and begins to knead at one of his pieces. “I get it, sometimes it’s fun to play with and throw around. You can make some pizzas, bread, or sweets. You can do anything with dough, and that’s the beauty." He’s nearly beaming at you, and you're stifling a chortle, breaking out with a “nerd.” 

“Hey!” He points accusingly and you snicker. 

When a comfy silence erupts and you’re both drawn into your work, after a few minutes, Andy clears his throat. “So, (Y/n).”

You turn to him, and there’s a small blush on his cheeks. Your heart drops a little, and you’re begging silently. Please don’t say it.

“Do you maybe want to get drinks after this shift?” 

He said it. 

Inwardly sighing, you squint your eyes as if lost in thought and he stammers. “I mean, I know you always have a busy schedule, but I just thought- I don’t know, it’d be nice to get your mind away from things for a change. You always look so tense.” 

No matter how many times he or your other coworkers would ask, you were always busy. One day your sister had to be picked up, you had to run to the hospital, or your dog needed walking. Meanwhile, in reality, you’d sit at home and cradle yourself in fear. Sure that the one moment you're caught off guard, you'd find Gojo sitting quietly in your room with the lights off, ready to take you just like the last time.

Humming in response, you agree, you are always tense. 

Maybe just one day of going out would do you good. He wasn’t bound to find you just from a chat at the bar right? There’s only so much sitting and moping around in lonely shivers that you can partake in.

Besides, if you’re actually free now, you can finally have friends. People to make you happy, to have conversations with, and to freely walk around with wherever you want. Rather than just being kept in a locked room that was no bigger than a dozen feet across. 

Maybe if he finds you again, you’d at least be happy with just having this bit of freedom. 

Shaking yourself out of the thoughts, your brows knit together angrily. You’re not going to let that happen. 

Turning to Andy, you give him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, that’d be fine.” He gasps and practically bounces in the joy that he attempts to so poorly conceal. 

He works with the dough a little less focused now as the grin stays glued to his face. “Awesome, so there’s this place around town that just opened up, heard it’s fancy though, don’t know if you want to go there.” 

You shrug. Truthfully because you never went anywhere or did anything you had a bit of spare money saved up. You didn’t mind splurging for today.

But what if Gojo finds your records? What if somehow has your bank account information? Or finds you had gone there with another man? 

“(Y/n)?” Andy calls out when you don’t answer.

“No no,  I don’t mind, sounds great. But don’t know if we’re really well equipped for that after work.” Gesturing to your clothes filled with baking powder, Andy glances to his own and shares a laugh. 

“You’re right.” A blush scatters to his face again and you’re exhaling a small sigh. 

“I guess I can pick you up after..?” He trails off expectantly, his hand brushing against his neck as he timidly averts away. If only Gojo hadn’t ever been involved, then you’d think about having a possible romance.

“Sure.” 

You press your hands into the substance for what feels like hours until your wrist feels like it’s going to fall off. And when you go home, you’re holding your breath, a stammering in your chest as you walk through the door. Your first instinct is to always immediately click the lights and when you'd notice nothing, you'll slump in great relief. 

You refuse to allow the thoughts of this kidnapper to ruin your day out. You’re free now, that’s all there is to it, and you dress yourself up real pretty to prove that. Even having the liberty to apply makeup which you’ve never done for Gojo. 

Not even if he tortured you and rubbed the bottom of your lip, declaring just how pretty you’d be if they were stained red just for him to ruin. Even if he forced you on your knees and implied just how much he’d love it if he could see the mascara rolling down your cheeks while you cried. 

This time, you were going to be beautiful to no one else's enjoyment but yourself.

Andy had been patiently waiting and when you stepped out his heart sped into his throat. You smile at him and his skin burns red. 

“Now I almost feel a little underdressed,” he mumbles awkwardly glancing down at his attire. 

“Don’t worry, you look fine. Anything’s better than the baking powder.” Sharing a giggle, you two begin walking, the clack of your heels echoing against the sidewalk.

Andy is continuously glimpsing to you, then at the ground. His bottom lip draws into his mouth. “You look.. amazing by the way,” he finally breaks the silence, and you turn to him, gleaming.  

“Thanks.”

He gazes at you too long, gawking in amazement, and you lightly poke him out of the concentration. “Relax, I’m not that good-looking.” You joke, and he instantly shakes his head. 

“That’s not true (Y/n), seriously, you are.. you’re beautiful.” 

It's been awhile since you had a genuine compliment that wasn't so creepy sounding.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the twinkling in his orbs. But this time you’re flattered and a light pink forms.

“Thanks.. I don’t typically get pretty for events or anything… I don’t really go out in general.” 

“Why not?” He’s quick to ask, brows knitting in worry. 

You cuss beneath your breath. Too much oversharing. Not talking to a person in a while will do that to you.

“Nothing- I just don’t like to. More of an.. inside person I guess.” Your eyes avoid his peering and he breaks out into a small smile. 

“I get it, my sis is like that, introvert right?”

You nod. That wasn’t remotely the reason, but you'll let him think that.

“I’m a bit of both, you know, I like talking but not too much. Sometimes it can be draining, sometimes it can be-“

“This isn’t going to be like your rambles about dough is it?” You cut him off jokingly and he shyly averts. 

“No no- sorry.. I have a tendency to talk too much.” Andy grazes his arm awkwardly, and you feel him distance himself a little. Perhaps that was a bit mean. 

You try to ease the heaviness in the atmosphere. “I like hearing your rambling. I was just being sarcastic, don't worry. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to joke like that,” you admit, and you notice him visibly relax. 

“That’s okay.” He beams and you mimic the expression.

When you reach the bar you’re in a nice little section by yourselves, and you’re surrounded by comfortable lighting, modern decorations, leather brown chairs, and relaxed people doing their own things.

It was amazing. 

“You act like you haven’t seen people in years,” Andy chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink. 

An evident frown shifts your expresion and he notices. His hand carefully touches your wrist and you shift to him.

“Sorry, did I offend?” 

Shaking your head, you force a small smile and declare an excuse. Whether it be along the lines of “just tired,” “lost in thought,” or anything else, it was all the same. The truth was too horrid even for you to bear. Seriously, how unlucky did you have to be for that?

There was only so much you could do for yourself. You’re ecstatic you managed to escape. You have a life now. You can see all these people, revel in the laughter, maybe even fall in love and have children. Though, maybe you were getting too ahead of yourself.

You made sure not to get drunk. When you walked home that was always the scariest part of the day. Whether it be at night, or in the morning, it didn’t make too much of a difference. A dangerous fear you have is walking pass a certain tall figure with white hair.

Though he’d more likely take the scarier approach. Stealthy. Watching you from the shadows and contemplating when he’d take you. You wondered many times if this was the case already. Perhaps he is just toying with your freedom. 

Repeatedly you force away from the anxieties. You can’t think so negatively. You have a life now. It’s already been a few weeks. You bested him whether he liked it or not. You won. 

Andy fortunately isn’t too drunk either, maybe a bit tipsy, but nothing unsafe. Man or not, having another person beside you made you feel comfortable. Even if Gojo was watching, he or any rational person isn’t likely to just snatch a person when they’re with another. It’s just too suspicious. No one can risk that. 

“Are you okay? You look scared,” Andy asks, and you fake a tug at your lips, a pouring discomfort in you. 

“I’m okay, it’s just the night can be a little creepy you know." You quickly reason.

Andy purses his lips, pondering a moment before draping his arm over your shoulder. Surprise rushes to you, a swarm of butterflies swooning at the gesture. He was warm, and his grip unlike Gojo’s was gentle. It was like you’d break if he held you any harder. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” He speaks with a determined but sweet tone and you giggle, leaning into his touch. 

“How sweet.” A mocking voice behind your form makes you stop dead in your tracks, eyes going wide. 

“(Y/n)?” Andy turns when you aren’t keeping up with him, and you’re frozen, still as a plank of wood. His eyes blink up at the cause, surely meeting your worst nightmare. 

You're terrified, but instinctively you whirl around, tears brewing in your eyes as you shout, “Don’t hurt him!” 

Gojo’s blue orbs are shining down at you, and he’s smiling wide.

“Oh?” He muses, raising his brow as he walks over to you. Every step he made caused you to flinch in place, and your hands were shaking as he rounded closer.

Suddenly his lips press to your ears and he whispers, “Should’ve thought about that before you ran off and made new friends.” 

Instinctively, Andy rushes to shove him away and Gojo holds out his hand, forcing him to stop in place. He grins, and you step back, fixating on those eyes you dreaded so much. “Don’t..” you plead.

Snickering, he strolls to Andy whose almost frozen, and he casually observes his features with a dark gaze. “Hm, I at least expected you to pursue someone better.” 

You open your mouth to speak, and blood splatters over you, gushing atop your pretty makeup. Your throat is unable to let out a blaring scream, instead your shaky hands move to your vision. Red. Red liquid splotched against your fingers, staining your skin. 

Gojo lets out a tired exhale, and he starts caressing your hair in the way you hate so much. The way he’d pet you without an ounce of care once he'd finish giving you a punishment or would cause you to heave out with sobs.

He's scanning you for a second until he moves and you instinctively shift back. Repeating, you step and something big crunches beneath your heel, causing you to fall back.

Finally, the scream escapes, and you’re rushing to crawl away from the horror. Blood is decorating the ground, the walls, the trash that lays around, everything, anywhere but on him. Gojo is sauntering, and there's a grin spreading his features wide.

Your desperate movement leads to no avail when your back hits a wall and Gojo eventually crouches down to you.

“Get away from me!” You shout as Gojo tugs your hair forcefully back.

His blue orbs glower at you. “Huh?” His grip tightens, and you whine from the pain searing in your scalp. “What was that?” He tugs harder and you scream.

Tears start to cascade, and you plead desperately. “Please d-don’t take me back.” The force pulling your locks lessens, and he stoically observes the scene.

You’re hiccuping through your sobs as you keep going, “P-Please… I don’t want to go back, I’ll do a-anything, p-please don’t take me there, please.” 

A grin finally breaks out as he speaks, “Now, where’s the fun in that?” He evilly snickers in a way that has you crying more. Even if you know pleading with him will do nothing, you’re desperate.

But it’ll only further amuse him.

“I don’t want t-to go." You’re whining pathetically, and he exhales a disappointed sigh as he ignores you to study the mascara falling in streams at your cheeks. 

“Man, what a waste,” he mutters to himself then presses a hand to his chin, tilting his head as he loses himself in thought.

“I’m surprised you even managed to avoid me for a whole month, I’m almost impressed.” His view is fixated on the sky as he continues. 

“Looks like the first punishment wasn’t enough. So hm, what am I going to do now?” He fakes a curiosity while a glimmer shines in his eyes. He knows, and so do you, and you’re sniveling through the choke in your throat at the thought. 

“I was gonna be all nice to you too. Even when you don’t deserve it,” he sighs. “I was gonna take you back home, have a sweet dinner date since it’s been so long, but.. since you decided to get all pretty for that guy there,” he motions to the corpse behind him, then zones in on you.

“I’ll have a bit of fun with you first.” 

You’re exploding into a fit of panicked tears, desperate begs falling from your lips. “P-Please don’t do this.” 

“Aw,” He mockingly coos, wiping a few tears from your eyes. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” 

·:*:· ★ ·:*:· ·:*:· ★ ·:*:·　 

A quick sketch for my girls out there.

[notthecutesttrash]

Grey (Pt. 3/Final)

Warnings: Reader is painfully nice, angst, ultra fluff

Word count: 8k

PART 1, PART 2

At lunch, you sit in your old spot. Your feet dangling above the ground atop the bench while eating the food your mother made yesterday. She didn’t leave you a note this time, seeing how upset you have been these past few days, which is a relief. It was quiet today. No girls to bother you, no one near your favorite large tree that the wind loved to surround. 

Sure you’re relieved that you can finally eat food, relieved that you’re undisturbed, relieved you won’t have any more bruises.. but you aren’t happy. And you’re only able to eat half of your food before you lose your appetite. 

You make sure to avoid everyone if possible. Throughout the scowls, the glances, and the even more hidden whispers, you keep your head low and move quickly to avoid interaction. Especially making sure to ignore a specific Miya twin. It’s not like he would deliberately talk to you now that the project is over, but still, you’d rather not see him at all. 

Practice always arrived promptly. Although you’re doing all right, better than before perhaps, you don’t say much. Lucy looks like she wants to approach you a few times, but you make sure to pack up and exit so fast she’s unable to. Several times you nearly stumble into a set of yellow and grey-haired twins who leave their practice around the same time as you, as unfortunately, the other gym is right across theirs. Fortunately, you manage to quickly scurry away, enough for them not to notice you. 

Atsumu lately is giving you more glances than usual as if he is planning on saying something. So when the bell rings you would rapidly spring out of your seat and run to the bathroom. Closing the stall, you’d sit on the toilet and hold your lunch to your lap, exhaling a relieved sigh. 

You didn’t want to hear any more teasing. Not after that embarrassing display you showed.

It keeps replaying in your head over and over. The way you're pushed to the ground, surrounded by bullies, revealing your terror so promptly. The way Mr. Knight in shining black armor saves the day and makes you feel even worse. 

I don’t need your help. Leave me alone. That phrase echoes in your head. 

Pathetic. You can’t even deal with your problems, instead, Atsumu of all people helped, and worse.. it did something. You aren’t being targeted anymore and that was irritating. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t be in this stall right now miserably eating your lunch. Food would be in your hair, you’d come home to your mom and dad who’d ask how the day went, and you'd have to keep up the stupid lie of sharing your food. 

Sighing, you pack up the rest of your lunch.

Kiyoko and the women trudge into the area, their hair a little damp, bits of food poking in it. Their heads hang low, and some are snickering at them. 

It seemed the tables had also now turned, and you didn't know why.

You’re confused as you spot Atsumu chuckling, and some part of you is disappointed in him.  

When you’re studying them, they manage to gather a collective scowl at you, and accustomed to the fear you swiftly spin.  

Before everything, you'd eat alone, avoid any interaction, ignore bullying, play, run off, go home, stay in your room all day, do homework, and then go to sleep. It was just as it was, back to normal. No pathetic fangirls, no men, and no motherly teasing. No one spoke to you, everyone (besides Atsumu striving to get your attention) ignored you as you did to them.

Kiyoko might give you a few scowls sure, but did she deserve that? 

It was perfectly justified, just how everyone decided it should be… Right? 

A voice would selfishly reason that it is better than being the one who is repeatedly bullied. You would no longer dread going back to school, no more panic attacks at 4 am, just a plain good night’s sleep. 

But you're not satisfied now.

It's just wrong.. all wrong.

When class ends, you encounter eyes with Atsumu.. then you do the unthinkable. 

You start fixating as Kiyoko's aggressively packs her bags before going home. She’s too drowsy to even force a glare yet still has a hard hatred in her eyes when fixated. “Uh… hey, Kiyoko.”

“What?” 

Atsumu is confused, and he’s frozen beside the door as he watches the exchange. You’re shyly fidgeting with your fingers and she scowls at you. 

You mutter to not be heard by a certain someone. “Are you… okay?” 

Kiyoko’s eyes widen, but It sharply settles to a glower that feels similar to Atsumu before he had told her off. 

“Like you care.” She shoves past you, bumping your shoulder, and stomps out the room. It’s a silent pitiful pause before you start to do the same and Atsumu calls out to you.

“(Y/n) wait-“ 

He blocks the doorway, and you stand, crossing your arms. You have a cold expression, and you're glaring angrily. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention.” He looks pathetically desperate, and you grunt.

“No. I mean, what are you doing?” You firmly repeat, and he's visibly lost and doesn’t understand.

“Are you bullying Kiyoko?” He’s taken aback at your words, shocked. He doesn’t respond, he’s not sure how to when the answer is around the lines of, "yes- but not in that way."

A pin drop can be heard in the heaviness. You gather every bit of courage and force your way out, declaring something that makes him still. 

“You’re such a jerk.” 

Atsumu is accustomed to these words. Osamu, his team members, women, friends and, so on would say similar phrases along these lines. It shouldn’t have hurt, but when you did, there was a pang in his chest like none other. 

This time when you rushed out of practice today, you saw Atsumu waiting outside. 

“(Y/n) lis-“ You spin on your heel the opposite way and rush off. He sighs, slumping disappointedly. He fixates on your retreating form, a twitch prodding his lips into a small inevitable frown. 

Osamu elbows him hard in the side, forcing him out of his trance and causing him to grumble.

“Talk to her.”  

His shoulders fall as he watches your even farther form. You’re clutching your bag desperately tight, and your speed walking like you’re politely running away. 

“Yea, easy for you to say. She doesn’t want to be talked to.” 

“And how do you know?” 

“Hm, I dunno, maybe her saying the words “leave me alone.” or you’re such a jerk.” 

Rintaro joins the conversation as he walks out of the gym. “She’s a girl. All of them do that. In reality, that’s code for “give me attention.” Because if you don’t they’ll just get even more mad.” 

Shinsuke follows after, stoically blinking. “Were you talking with her normally before?”

“I mean.. a little.. yeah.”

“So did you do anything impolite to make her not want to talk to you?”

Atsumu’s expression falters, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Well..” 

“He made her cry, twice.” Osamu chips in, and Atsumu elbows him hard, his expression changing into a glare. 

“Huh, maybe she does want you to leave her alone then,” Rintaro says.

He quickly slumps in defeat. “Yeah… I’ve been.. a bit of a jerk.” 

The team side eyes each other. “A bit?” 

“There's a possibility it can all be fixed by communication. Go apologize and talk about it,” Shinsuke says simply. Atsumi groans aloud, face planting. 

“What if she hates me now Samu?” 

“I was just trying to help.”

“Do you think I really am mean?”

“Do I deserve redemption?” 

Osamu’s eye twitches at the tenth whine and nearly decks his brother in the face when they arrive home. 

When you open the door to yours, you look miserable. 

“Are you okay?” Your mother asks, and you let out an exhausted breath. 

“Yeah.” Slipping your shoes off, you leave the rest of your lunch on the table and rush to go upstairs. Your mother is frowning once she opens the bento, finding the food only half eaten. It was just like before when there was no project, no bullies, and no boy. 

Cuddling your blankets you turn on the TV to watch whatever. You remain like that for a few minutes before a gentle buzz vibrates the bed. Pulling it to your sight, you see 

Miya Atsumu: “Can we talk?” 

You huff and throw the phone away from you. What did he possibly have to talk about to have the nerve to text you? 

The worst part is you didn’t even hate him for it, and you despised that you didn’t.

Maybe if you were a vengeful person, you’d be at peace now. You should just be happy that Kiyoko and the others are getting a taste of their own medicine. But you aren't. You’re not happy, it doesn’t make you proud, It makes you sad.

Frankly, you just want nothing happening at all. You’re okay with a boring life, no one speaking to you, no one being bullied, eating lunch, going to practice, coming home, eating dinner, and going to sleep. That’s it, that’s all you needed and you’d be happy.

But would you though? 

All you can think about is the warm sputter of butterflies in your stomach when he brushed up against your leg at that desk last Friday. The way he so genuinely smiled and how it made your heart bloom. He’s so different when it’s with you alone, so how could he be so cruel? 

At dinner time, you’re quiet and your parents send a few glimpses to another. There is a dull ache in your chest as you eat, and you can’t help but remember how your mom giggled when Atsumu was at the table. It’s a direct comparison to the painful silence right now. Your dad is reading the paper, your mom is awkwardly eating, and you’re pressing your hand against your cheek while shoving small forceful bits of food into your mouth. 

“So..” your dad starts and you’re already dreading this. 

“Anything new happening lately?” Your mom gives him a certain look as if saying are you sure you want to go into that? 

“No.” 

“How was the project?” 

You shrug. “It was fine.” 

“You’re no longer talking to that boy?” Your dad hesitantly asks. Your mom clears her throat when you go silent. 

Your tone is frustrated and drawn out as you battle with your patience. “It was just a project Dad. We did our work and now it’s done, it’s been done since Tuesday.”

He slowly nods and looks at your mom again. 

“Well..” she starts and you don’t know where it’s going but you give her a fed-up look. “Do you like him?” 

You go silent again and you’re no longer eating, just playing with your food. There's a mixture of both disgust and affirmation to that question.

“No..” 

They share a look. “Okay.”

“But..”

You sigh when it still keeps going.

“If you do… maybe you should talk to him.” 

They don’t know the full story. All they know is a man you might like gets assigned to be your partner and sparks fly. They don’t know your mixed emotions.

They don’t know how he made you cry twice. The first from him practically calling you a loser and laughing in your face. The second, him seeing the embarrassing display of being bullied by his own fangirls, and worse, saving you from it. They don’t know the evil side of him when he is returning the favor to them right after.

“Yeah.. I guess.” You take a small unenthused bite of food, then stand, signaling that you’re done talking. 

A buzz vibrates your phone, and you’re washing the dishes, ignoring the sound. You know who it is. 

“Is that Atsumu?” Your mother chirps in, also just happening to know. It rumbles again and you sigh. 

You want to say it was another friend or Lucy, but that would be a fat lie. No one texts you, you have no friends. Lucy didn’t even have your number, she was just a nice teammate. Your parents have been trying not to pester you about it, but now and then they would imply something along the lines of getting together or inviting a certain someone for dinner. 

They didn’t know what was happening, they had zero rights. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you. Subconsciously you pull it to your view and you see 2 notifications belonging to the name of Miya Atsumu. 

Miya Atsumu: “Can I just explain?” 

Miya Atsumu: “Please?” 

Why did he want to talk to you so badly? You just can't understand it. Did he care about you or something? No. That’s out of the question. 

For the first time you’re instinctively typing an angry response, forgetting that he can see the bubbles on his end. Crap. You delete it quickly and your heart stammers when you see an immediate text forming from him. A minute passes of nothing and you exhale a breath of relief, maybe he didn’t see and was caught up in his own text. Or he respected your lack of answer, which you doubted, but you’re glad you don’t see another. 

Why did you still have his number in your phone anyway? The project was over, he isn't going to keep talking to you after he's bored. Just because he hasn’t been mean to you for those few days during the project didn't mean he suddenly changed.

A sting in your heart rejects that notion, remembering again the feeling of your heart when you both share a laugh and work beside each other. Whenever his eyes would twinkle at you so sweetly like he actually cared. 

You should hate his stupid smug face, the way it looks at you, the way his eyes glimmer. You should hate him, and Kiyoko, and Angie, and Osamu, and.. and.. ugh. You’re practically scrubbing a plate down to the bone before your mother plucks it out of your hand. 

“I think it’s clean now.” You’re groaning, jaw clenched so tightly you’re sure you’re going to snap something. 

“Why don’t you just go upstairs, for now, I’ll finish the rest.” She says, grabbing the sponge out of your hands. 

You breathe what feels like steam. “Fine.” 

Over the next few days Atsumu is still desperately trying to get your attention. Practically doing anything in his power to make sure the stars align to speak to you. But you’re quicker. 

Whenever you see that yellow hair you make sure to run far, bolting at the slightest resemblance. You never even manage to get to your locker before he’s in the hallway, so you’re forced to carry obnoxious books while you sprint off. Besides, even if the fangirls were told off, you’re sure they would do something once they see you speaking with him again. And it's not like you’d tell him either if something did. They can easily threaten you, and force you to meet up outside of school so you can get thrashed around.

Today he’s nowhere in sight and you’re finally releasing the pounds of weight off your arms. 

“Hey.” A familiar stern voice shakes you to your core, and you slowly stand around to get a view of the person.

Osamu, thank god. 

“Hi..?” You awkwardly press your back against the locker, staring at the calm features that replicate Atsumu. He looked much different, and his features are more relaxed.

“You’re (Y/n) right?” He asks.

You’d think he'd remember that after the time his brother made you run off with tears. 

“Yeah..” you trail off, unable to meet his eye while you grip the strap of your bag tightly.

“Hm.” He pauses randomly, studying you, and you’re shuffling your legs nervously. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do me a favor, tell Sumu off so he can finally stop bothering me.” You furrow confusedly. 

“What?” 

“He won’t shut up about you, I’ve been hearing it for weeks now," he groans. You’re eyes widen. You can't believe him, but he looks terribly annoyed just thinking about it that it makes it seem truthful. 

“What? Weeks?” That didn’t make sense. 

“Or get together already, I don’t care.” He sighs tiredly, like fed up with the world. 

You huff, “All he cares about is bullying,” under your breath. 

He shrugs, “He can't pull that off, he's too focused on whining like a baby trying to get your attention.”  

If Atsumu was here, surely he’d be arguing with his brother, exclaiming, “That’s not true!” But you’re ogling at the imaginary scene, unable to even picture that. 

You awkwardly say an "okay.." mainly to end the conversation.

He lets out a sigh, the only thing his mind can go to as he walks off is food. “I’m hungry.” 

He’s gone before you could even respond, and you’re standing there, completely dazed. What even just happened?

It’s cold outside, it's the weekend luckily, and you’re bumping your volleyball at home to the wall, practicing your receives. No texts were received today which was nice. You knew he’d get bored. He’s fed up and the chain of command continues. You're free while others take your stead.

Guilt aches in your chest from that thought. 

“Dinners almost ready (Y/n)!” Your mom calls out, and you pant into the wispy air. Setting the volleyball down, you take off your outside shoes and slide the door behind you. It’s warm, and your dry hands clasp together, receiving the heat. Your moms about to serve the food, and you stand at the bottom of the stairs. 

“I’m going to get my gloves for outside.” 

She nods and you rush up. Where were they? You haven’t used them since last winter. You search in your closet, crouching to see if you can find the labeled bin. Hands digging deep into the space, you’re so concentrated on trying to find the mitts that you don’t even hear the knocking on the door. 

You do hear small mutterings of your mother down the stairs, but can’t make it out too well. You shrug, assuming she was just talking to your father anyway. 

“Oh my- yes yes, of course, come in. You must be freezing, poor dear.” 

Ah! There they are! Stuffed in between your summer shorts and sandals. Guess you must’ve disorganized them along the way. 

“Got them!” You walk downstairs with your head down, holding the mitts in your hand. You turn to set them on the table and cease the movement, eyes widened in shock. Your heart nearly leaps to your tight throat, and your stomach is anxiously swarming.

“What’s he doing here?” You look to your mom who just allowed your worst nightmare to come in. He’s panting, looking at you with determined eyes, his brows furrowed and his expression serious. 

“Don’t be rude (Y/n). He came to see you. You don’t expect me to leave him out there in the cold do you?” She waves you off and walks to the kitchen to leave you two peering at another. You’re about to turn away to run back up the stairs, and he shouts out, “Wait!” You stop in your tracks, pursing your lips, eyes shut. 

“Can we just talk.. please?” Your fingers are holding onto the railing, your right foot at the first step. Don’t look, don’t listen, just leave. 

You turn around to face him, and his eyes widen a little. You turn to your mother who is making herself busy, and you gesture your head up the stairs. Were you really going to do this again? Why? Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you sending him out, shoving him away, and saying leave me alone?

He nods quickly and follows. Once the door closes you whip around to him, crossing your arms firmly. “Why are you here?” 

You’re taken aback at his exhaustion, he’s panting, and his blonde hair is a little disheveled. He’s a mess, and you’re confused, he’s always so well put together with that plastered smirk that said “I’m better at everyone at everything, and I know it.” 

You bite your lip, some guilt settling in your chest as you wait for him to catch his breath. 

Eventually, he brushes his hair to the side, breathing deeply and fixating calmly on you. “Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me. I know you don’t like me.. for good reasons.” You remain quiet, nodding to his words. He thinks a second before speaking again. 

"But I didn't hurt Kiyoko or anyone else." You squint your eyes and he stumbles over his words. "Maybe I indirectly started it after I called her some mean things, but I wasn't the one who did that, like they did to you." You're humming as you think. You aren't sure if that pleases you.

He suddenly gestures low for a bow and you flinch a little at the fast movement. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I'll do better, i'll make it up to you I promise.” You’re shocked at this change of heart and he continues, sputtering a little.

“I hope you can forgive me, it doesn’t have to be now.. just someday.. and I'll do whatever it takes to regain your trust, and if you still decide that I am not worthy of it in the end.. " He pauses. "That’s okay.. I’ll understand.” 

You don’t even know what to say, but those are the last words you expected. He really felt.. sorry? Was that even possible? No that wasn’t right, this must be a ploy. Frankly, you don't get why he wants your trust so badly in the first place, but you’re kind of flattered. 

Though.. Atsumu wouldn't lie would he? He’s hardly the type to even feel guilty over tears, he’d never stoop so low to beg for forgiveness if he didn’t want to. He is a jerk and he even admitted that, but he can’t be serious, can he?  

Standing straight again, his serious expression alone proves you as wrong as can be, and he’s desperately scanning your expression, looking for any possible emotion. You quietly turn your head to the side, mind still mulling over the current scene.

When he recognizes the absence of words, he bows again, this time politely. “That’s.. all I wanted to say, I will leave now.” He turns his back to you, signaling his movement. The door opens and he’s about to step out, and you have a voice that’s screaming at you to stop him before it’s too late. 

“Wait.”

He stops and looks at you expectantly, and you inhale deep. You shouldn’t be saying this, but you are. 

“Apologize to Kiyoko too.” He grimaces like you just uttered the most foul words in existence. 

He breaks out with a, “Huh?” 

“Apologize to her, and the other girls.” 

Again, he repeats even louder. “What?” 

You press your hands against your waist, frustrated he isn't understanding. 

“Apolo-“ 

“No, I heard you.” He presses a hand to his forehead and sighs.

"Why?" He asks, and you breathe deep.

"Because.. even if they started it.. I know how it feels, and I never want anyone to go through that."

It wasn’t exactly what he expected when he said he’d do anything for your trust, but he'd still do it for your sake. Although he might not agree with the choice, he can understand the need to have peace in your mind.

“Promise.” Your tone is firm and you’re pointing at him with your pinky. “Promise you’ll do it and be nice." You don’t even know why you expect him to agree and follow through, but you oddly trusted him.

The idea of apologizing to those girls of all people makes him grumble under his breath. He presses his pinky into yours and locks it, his voice filled with reluctance, “Yeah, I promise.” 

“Good.” You nod, and when it gets silent again you clear your throat. "So.. do you want to stay for dinner?"

He gently laughs and shoves back the idea of what he'd have to do later.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles genuinely and you nod.

Dinner is only awkward for a few seconds until your mother begins speaking to Atsumu. They laugh amongst each other and a small tug pries your lips.

The conversation stops as the front door opens and closes. Your father walks in and your mother claps her hands in excitement. He makes eye contact with Atsumu and they greet one another very politely. You’re suddenly anxious as your dad takes a seat beside you. He has a firm expression and presence, but it eases into pleasantness as holds his hand out to Atsumu.

“Atsumu right? I heard a lot about you, nice to meet you.” Atsumu shakes his hand and glimpses your way.

“Heard a lot about me?”

You know what he’s thinking and you turn a small shade of pink, glaring at your mom whose stifling a laugh. Your dad joins in the laughter, even Atsumu, and you’re beet red. You aren’t the one always talking about him.  

“We’re just teasing (Y/n).” Your mom waves and you huff, forcing more food into your mouth. 

“So tell me Atsumu, what’s your favorite food?” Your mom asks for no particular reason and you cough. 

“Anything you make for (Y/n) is enough to keep me happy.” He responds pleasantly and your mom presses a hand to her chest. 

“What a charmer.”

You're planning on rolling your eyes when you look at him. But you're surprised the way he seems so genuine. Most cases he is confident and smug, but the way he grins so happily right now shows you that you're wrong.

You avert from the scene and you can see him gazing at you longingly in your peripheral. Your cheeks dust pink.

The room gradually cascades with laughter, and your stomach flutters whenever he makes your parents laugh. 

When it’s time for him to go, he politely thanks them for the meal and says his farewell. They let you walk him out. He steps outside and you’re fidgeting a little with your fingers. “Um so.. I’ll see you..” 

He beams and rotates. “Yeah. Cya (Y/n)”  

“Don’t forget the promise!!” You call out and even if it makes him sigh, he answers “I won’t.” 

You close the door, walk to your room, and lay in the bed. Gazing at the ceiling you think of the scene that just transpired. Shoving your face into the pillow, a loud squeal escapes, and your legs dangle like a schoolgirl. 

You did it. You actually fell for the jerk Miya Atsumu. 

When it's Monday, you're nervous yet excited to finally get the peace you so crave and to prove to your heart that he is a good person.

He's dreading when he glances to Kiyoko. She’s visibly scared in her seat as he approaches her. "Hey." He starts, a little too aggressively right off the bat. You clear your throat, signaling him to be aware.

Exhaling a sigh, he presses his hand behind his neck. "Come on, you guys too." They all stand and jitter nervously, and you tail behind them.

They look like kicked puppies, and in a way it almost makes you feel pitiful.

He walks to the same terrible corridor you had frequented for those dreadful days. You remember the way they would dump food on you and kick you, yet even if it slightly hurt to witness what you're forcing him to do when.. you know it'll be worth it in the end. Finally he stops, and you do the same. Atsumu shuffles uncomfortably, like unsure he was going to get this far. They look freaked out and tense as planks while waiting.

He grits his teeth and sucks in every little bit of pride he has. "I'm sorry." Everyone blanks at the tone. It was a bit forced, but you suppose it had to do.

They're confused, unsure if this was some trick before you appear at his side and elbow him lightly. He's peering at you with a look that says “I have to say more?"

Grumbling and huffing, he continues, “sorry for treating you the way I did. I won’t do it again.” The apology comes out so eerily even they cringe. That was harder to force out than anything he’s said in his life, and that said a lot.

His eyes zone in on Kyoko mainly. She's bewildered and you wriggle awkwardly. The tension is worse than when you were forced to work with him on the project the first day. It's quiet and you touch his arm, forcing him to look at you with a certain gaze. You signal for him to leave them alone.

"Lets go."

He exhales a sigh, and his hand presses against your shoulder. Even in this weird scene you're blushing at the action. The girls are staring at you like deers in headlights, their mouths agape, slack jawed and stuck. The struggle to not send them a threat shooting down their spines had him walking away a lot faster than you would've thought and he's gone before you know it.

You awkwardly walk pass the group whose heads follow you like dolls. "Atsumu!" You call out, sprinting and panting down the halls.

He's grumbling to himself, speaking nonsensically and because of the height difference, his steps are like twice of yours. "Wait up!" He finally pauses, and turns to you surprised when he sees you holding your hands to your knees, exhausted.

He wants to be annoyed at you, but its hard to frankly, and when you're done heaving, you press your hand to him. He twitches a little and you look to him with wide twinkling orbs. "Thank you for doing that."

He blinks at you and pulls back nervously, a stammer in his chest. "Y-Yea.. no problem."

Suddenly every bit of him is glad it worked out this way.

As the days pass, you've been gradually getting more comfortable with him. You've been exchanging bentos, teasing another, sharing advice about volleyball(mainly on his side), and walking each other to practice. And Kiyoko wasn't sending you glares that much anymore which was nice.

You’re packing up your things as slowly as usual, and Sumu is stretching, complaining. “We’re gonna be late for practicee (Y/n).”

 “Then goo.” 

Atsumu huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You catch a side glance of Kiyoko who is still in class, feigning patience as she anxiously looks towards you and back. It could just be your imagination, but it looks like she might want to say something.

You angle your head toward her subtlety and he understands, fixating on the sight. She jolts at just the glimpse and is finding things to touch and direct her attention to. He gives you an annoyed look and you shoo him away.

If it wasn’t for appeasing you on this promise, he probably would be giving her hell right now you're sure. You pat him on the shoulder, practically begging with your eyes, and he nearly rolls his. Exhaling in defeat he points to the door.

“I’ll be outside.”

It’s a weird tension when he’s gone. You should've been timid and scared but you're not. Perhaps it’s because of Mr. fussy outside, or maybe because you just feel better about the situation and you're ready to hear what she has to say.

She walks to you very slowly and keeps her lips separated as she thinks. “So… um..” 

“I did a lot of bad things to you..” She’s biting her lip and she speaks vaguely, either too ashamed or hesitant to confront you. You purse your lips when it gets silent, beginning to writhe at the heaviness.

“Your mom’s cooking really wasn’t that bad, I just.. wanted to be mean.. among other things..” She trails her words like there's more. Her voice gets real low, but you hear it, and she says "Sorry.."

It's a small pause before she continues, “I’d.. um.. probably be getting the same treatment.. if.. um..” she’s clearly struggling to elaborate, for fear perhaps it’d be too pitiful or embarrassing.

Her voice gets lower and she’s fixated on the corner of the room. 

“I appreciate it.. Thanks..” 

You awkwardly respond with a nod.

She mimics that motion, then grabs her things and timidly sprints off. Surely she met Atsumu on the way out, and hopefully, nothing is said between the two. A small contempt smile is on your face. You're happy.

Before you can even finish walking out the door hands instantly meet your shoulders. You’re abruptly whirled around to meet Atsumu who is filled with concern. 

“Did she do anything?” His hands touch your chin, moving it directly yet gently to the left, then to the right, up, and down. He's carefully examining the way your strands are positioned to see if it differed from when he left, if there's a crinkle in your clothes, if your skin is touched, anything he could possibly notice. 

You playfully slap his fingers away. “I’m fine Sumu, nothing happened. We just talked.” 

His eyes raise, and he doesn't look like he believes you. “You just talked?” You nod shyly.  

“About what?” He’s trying to hide the small irritation in his voice but you can tell it’s just slightly there. You supposed it was reasonable though. 

You want to tell him, but for the sake of her privacy (and pride mainly) you say “… Girl things.” 

He still doesn’t seem to believe you but he hums anyway. “Nothin' bad?” You hold your pinky out to him. 

“Promise.” 

You two would then stroll to the gymnasiums, and Lucy would greet the both of you before you'd separate and begin conversing. Then when practice would finish you found that you had been bolting out the door much faster than anyone and shouting, “Bye! See you tomorrow!” 

You'd rush to meet with the twins who usually were just beginning to walk out. Atsumu would grin at you, and you’d blush as you talk to him, pushing stray hair behind your ear. He walked you home like usual, sometimes even greeting your mother who will try to (always) invite him to dinner.

He might make some excuse and say he’s busy, or.. secretly your favorite, when he decides to stay and sometimes even hang out with you in your room to do homework together. But nothing else came of it, just homework. You enjoyed the time together when he and you would sit very close, quietly writing, reveling in the peace. 

Luckily today was one of those days. 

Atsumu likes concentration, he is oddly very silent and focused when he works. The only time he would get a little annoyed is when there were unnecessary sounds, like pens clicking too much or chatter. You understood that, so it’s easy for you two to work together.

Yet even when you two are starting at the same time, he manages to do it very quickly once he gets himself in the moment. This skill he had made it so that he was always done first, and from there he would typically head off since it’d always be like 8 or so. That always made your heart drop a little. 

This time though, he sits on your bed and yawns. You blink at him confused, and he gestures you over. “Let’s watch a movie.” Your heart thumps at the idea, but you remember there's still work sitting on your desk. 

“I still have a bit more to do..”  

“It’s Friday, I’m confident you can get it done before Monday.” He teases and you avert your attention to the worksheets left. It wasn’t that much, that’s true. You could just do it tomorrow. 

He’s a bit more gentle with his tone when he speaks. “I’ll make it up to you if you don’t get it done, promise.” 

“Okay..” 

You sit near him but not too near. You're unsure if he wants you close in this case. You never actually sat next to him without being in chairs. It was kind of strange.

Your stomach is blooming with nervous butterflies again, and your heart is racing at the idea of just being on the bed with him. Atsumu grabs the remote and pulls you out of your daze. 

“Any picks?” 

“Um... maybe a comedy?” He’s a little taken aback by that choice but then shrugs, a casual smirk returning. 

“Comedy it is.” 

He picks a random movie, and settles into his spot comfortably. On the other hand, you’re tense in yours, and perhaps a foot or so away from him.

“What are you so nervous lookin' about?" Sumu nudges.

“You’re not gonna bite me?” You joke, and he laughs, easing your anxiety quickly. You make an excuse to shuffle a little closer to him as you move into “comfort” as well. 

“Unless you want me to. No," he says jokingly. You quiet, a blush forming. Just like how you sit beside another in the chairs, your knee is nearly touching his, but without a sort of barrier.. this feels almost closer. 

The movie starts and you side-eye him, watching as his attention is on the TV. You look away and attempt to mimic. He does the same once you focus ahead, examining you for more than a few before averting. The movie is quick to make you both snicker in your seats. Still, for almost half an hour, you’re struggling to pay attention, you’re just so focused on how he feels next to you. Safe and.. warm. 

He leans in a little closer. You fail to notice and yawn. He blinks down at you, moving back. “Tired?” 

You mumble “A little bit.” 

“Want me to pause it for now?” He waits for your answer and your lips purse. If you say yes he might leave, you can’t waste this moment on tiredness. He’s right, it’s Saturday tomorrow, you can relax all you want then. 

“(Y/n).” He calls and you’re still lost in thought. 

Suddenly his fingers gently turn your chin, and when you blink back to reality, he’s very close to you. He’s so pretty too.

After a second or two you instantly pull back. “Oh, sorry, yes… you can do that.” He nods and pauses it. For some reason, his expression is a little defeated, but you're not sure why. He stands up and you know where this is going.

“It’s getting late, so.. time for me to go home.” He fakes a stretch and you nod. 

“I’ll walk you out.” 

Before he leaves you call out to him. “Hey..”

“Let’s finish that movie okay?” 

He smiles at that. 

Over the next few weeks, the same still repeated. You hung out a little more, but it was nothing too different, just small closeness and intimate lunch moments for 30 minutes. Though lately you find yourself confused and saddened when he refuses to come in. He’s politely said no to your mother nearly all of the time now. 

“Does he like me, Mom? What do you think? Why won’t he come in?” You anxiously groan, pressing your hands to your face at the 20th imaginary scenario that plays. 

“I’m sure he does sweetie, I just think he needs some time to think about it.” She’s washing the dishes while you groan. 

“Think about if he likes me? If he has to think about it, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t?” 

“No, that doesn’t mean that.” 

“Then what does it mean?” 

She sighs a little. 

Before you were always quiet about the details, embarrassed even, but now you are so frustrated and scared you just won’t stop talking. 

Did you do something wrong? No, you still ate lunch together most of the day. He still walked with you after volleyball, (even if occasionally he’s been making more excuses). So what was it? 

Atsumu was more than a little disappointed after that day at your house. He finally made a move, and you were not the slightest bit interested. After all that time together he thought maybe you’d reciprocate, at least a tiny bit. You might’ve still thought of him as a bully which was a sucky thought, even if fair. 

He loses focus in practice today, setting a little too high, a little too low, serving into the net, and sometimes missing completely. That was completely new for him, and he had to say, it blew more than he thought. 

“Hey,” Osamu points at him. "You set way too high there this time. One more mess up and you owe me."

Atsumu groans loudly.

“Why are you so mopey lately?” Michinari asks.

“He thinks he blew it with his crush,” Osamu answers and his twin nearly kicks him in his side. Shinsuke walks behind them, and the aura alone is enough to make them stop fighting. 

Hitoshi gasps as if Atsumu being in love is so uncharacteristic. “You have a crush?!” 

Rintaro rolls his eyes. “Just talk to her.” 

Aran pats the setter’s shoulder. “Just proclaim your love man, it’s a whole lot better than overthinking.” 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Shinsuke asks, completely oblivious. “If she doesn’t like you, then it just means you can move on and not have to worry about it anymore.” Although painfully realistic, it strikes something in Atsumu.

His expression shifts and he nods firmly. If you declare you don’t like him, then the ache in his chest will move on and he won’t have to deal with this anxiety anymore. 

This was it then, this was going to be the day he asked you. 

Practice runs a little later than usual and he makes sure to run out as fast as possible to see you walking kind of mopey. “Hey, (Y/n)!” Atsumu calls to you, making you rotate. 

Your eyes instantly lighten, and you grin. “Sumu!” 

He returns the smile. “Practice good?” He asks. 

“It was good! It was good. I’d say I can teach you some things now.” You lightly jab, poking him.

He scoffs, “Once you finally receive my serve, I’ll think about it.”

His hand mockingly pats your head to measure the height difference, and you pout, face a little pink. The rest of the walk is filled with both of you play-fighting with each other and teasing until you reach your house. 

You’re silent, shuffling as to delay the inevitable.

“So.. do you want to come in..?” You ask, a hopeful trail at the end of your word. You’re sure he’s going to say no. 

“Yup, I can do that today.” 

“That’s o- wait-“ you gasp, “really?!” 

He smiles, enamored at your excitement. 

“I’m free all night.” 

Butterflies are shooting, and you’re secretly hopping as you open the door.

“Welcome ho- oh! Atsumu! It’s been so long, how are you?” Your mother greets. 

“Evening miss (L/n), just been busy is all.” Atsumu is politely smiling and you dazzle.  

“It happens. Dinner isn’t ready, so you guys can do your work and I’ll call you after.”  

You nod, and he does the same before you bolt off to your room. 

His heart is probably stammering faster than yours now.

“Want to finish that movie?” You ask gleefully. 

He chuckles and answers, "really? No workin' today?"

Seeing it as a rejection, you can’t help but slump in defeat, instantaneously frowning. The scene breaks his heart a little and he rushes to respond with better words before you cut him off.

“No- we can, I just thought- maybe- well.. yeah- never mind. After though?” You’re staring at him with big eyes, and he is smiling sweetly again.

“Unless you have to go after, which is fine, that’s okay.” He shuts you up by placing his hand on your arm, and you blink up at him through your lashes so prettily it makes him hold his breath. 

“Yes, that’s fine.” 

Quickly nodding, you impatiently sit down at your desk and gesture for him to do the same. 

“Listen (Y/n)..” Atsumu has a tone in his voice that sounds serious, maybe scared, and you turn, pursing your lips. A sudden nervousness washes over you. 

“Yeah..?” 

When he sees your sad expression he zips his lips. “Nothing, never mind.” 

“Okay..” you say, unconvinced. He takes a seat next to you, and a blush dusts your cheeks. You really miss this.

Eventually, it becomes comfortable again, and you're pointing to your phrases and looking to him for advice. Truthfully it was sort of an excuse to keep talking to him before he might leave in a few. "Is this good?" You ask.

"Yup." He'd say, and then purposely you'll talk about grammar or other subjects to get him going. But today he wasn't really responsive, he looked tense and felt strange. He was fidgeting, which is never much his thing, and half the time he wasn't working. When you turn to him, his eyes are always lost in thought, contemplating blankly while his pen is unmoving.

You'd occasionally ask, "Are.. you okay Sumu..?"

"Hm? Oh, yea, I'm good." He'd shake himself out of the strange fixation and get back to work like nothing happened.

Your heart falls a little. Maybe he just doesn't want to hang out with you.

"Um.. listen.. (Y/n)." He finally turns to you after a long hour of silence. His tone is more serious again, and you're terrified he's going to say what you hope to not be true. You wait for him to talk, but your patience is thinning as he opens his mouth, closes it, opens, and closes, and you spit out, "Do you want to leave?"

"Wha- no no, it's um.." He clears his throat and he presses his hands together.

"I.. like you (Y/n)."

It takes a second or two before the words sink in, and you're frozen. What?

As in platonic right? Or..

He’s desperately searching for your reaction, waiting to see either reciprocation or disgust. Your mind is rushing for what to think but it's empty. His stomach starts to drop when he doesn’t receive a reply, and he assumes that means denial. His body sinks and the disappointment is clear in his face. 

The silence is disturbed by a shaky inhale. You ask, “What… do you mean?”

Atsumu opens his mouth to speak but keeps it slightly agape, his gaze glued to you. 

“Like.. love, (Y/n). I love you.” 

He's aching to see any clear expression again and your eyes widen in surprise. You feel weightless, there's an explosion in your head and you're unable to think.

"I.." he's holding his breath as you sputter nervously.

"I um.." he's nodding, biting his lower lip and waiting impatiently.

"I.. love you too.."

He's now mimicking your past emotions, and it goes quiet.

You start, "So.. does that mean..um.." you're mumbling now, too anxious to finish the question.

"You'll be my girlfriend?" He asks, and you twinkle up at him. His eyes look so vibrant even in the dim lighting, and his hair falls a little at his face. You move to shyly brush it back, pushing closer to him.

He takes this as a move, and suddenly his lips are pressed into yours. You're frozen for a moment but ease into it quickly. It's like fireworks went off in your brain, and you answer a breathless "Yes," as he pulls away.

“I’m glad..” Atsumu finally lets out a small laugh, and you share in it, your face a fuming pink.

"Do you.. want to finish that movie now?" You shyly ask, and he nods, grinning.

Your bodies are huddled close to each other, his arm wrapped around you. You're leaning into the warmth as the light from the TV flickers. A lingering smile is shared and you turn to him. Your eyes meet and you're already instinctively moving. A kiss is shared again, this time longer and deeper. Your breath hitches when it ends, but you're smiling, and so is he. Hearts softly thumping against one another.

This is finally the peace you wanted.

[notthecutesttrash]

Grey (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Verbal + physical bullying, angst, language

Word count: 5.9k

PART 1, PART 3

In the morning you're about to run out before you see a little note next to a sweetly wrapped bento box on the kitchen table. It read, "I hope he likes it (: - Love mom."

God, that is so embarrassing.

But If your lies truly made her that happy, then fine, you didn't have the heart to stop it. You're just going to have to suck it up and wipe food out of your hair later.  

Atsumu gazes longingly at you the moment you tread in carefully. He's even more smug looking then usual, if that's even possible. Worse is remembering that he's going to be coming by your house after practice. The nervousness spreads at the thought. You hope it runs late, or maybe he'd change his mind and decide it was weird. 

Or maybe he could just ditch you and leave you with all the work. That idea didn't seem so bad anymore. 

Why didn't you say Saturday or even yesterday? You had more than enough time. 

The bell rings signaling a break. You grab your lunch and sigh.

The group of girls pass and Kiyoko sends you a grave scowl as if threatening what she'd do to you if you didn't follow. You stand up and exit the classroom, tailing behind them.

With a serious expression Atsumu observes their movements until you all leave.

Kiyoko leads you to one of the bottom floors no one goes to and signals a motion with her head. "Storage closet, now." You open the door for them, head lowered to the ground. 

How pathetic. You're practically giving them an invitation to bully you.

You're slammed into the wall causing a topple of brooms and mops to fall at your side. Kiyoko holds you by your collar, and you still have your lunchbox clutched hopelessly in your hands. One of the other girls pulls it from you. There's a laugh when they share a gaze at the wrap. 

"How cute. Your mom gave this to you?" One of them remarks, and you hesitate when the lid snaps open. 

"Must've been. It looks disgusting." 

Your back lifts then is slammed again, your head bouncing and hitting hard against the wall. Your knees collapse beneath you and an instantaneous sting is felt on your cheek after being slapped. Kiyoko's foot slams into your side and you hiss at the pain. 

Just like that, your mom's sweetly cooked meal meant for your nonexistent crush pours over your head.

"And to think your poor mom is wasting her time cooking for you, what a waste." 

The noodles are squashed into a mush at your scalp, mixing into your strands. Another kick hits your knee hard and you instinctively clutch it with a groan. A laugh erupts, and the empty box is slammed to the side. The door opens and they speak one last phrase to you that has you flinching. 

"Just go die already."

Kiyoko scoffs when you say nothing, and the door closes. 

A numbness swallows you whole. 

You cried all your tears already, it wasn't anything new. The handle of one of the brooms falls into your lap, and a slop of spaghetti falls onto your shoulder. You glimpse up at the flickering ceiling light. 

You'd usually take a few minutes to mull over the state of your life before you'd eventually get up, dust off your skirt, and go to the bathroom. 

Cleaning the mashed noodles from your hair was as rough as cleaning out bits of wet rice grains. One by one, you pick it out, all while being forced to stare at your reflection. You hate how you look, and you wish you didn't have to see your pitiful face every time you went through this process. 

Cold water pools into your hands and you splash it against your face. Wiping the sweat and grime off your skin was probably the only refreshing feeling that came of this, even if it was still pathetic. Your stomach growls. 

"Yeah, I know.." You mutter to yourself, grabbing your bento to rewrap the cloth just as it was. All pretty and nice so your mom would never know how mistreated it was. Slapping your cheeks, you forcefully bring yourself to reality before going to class. 

Your hand presses against your cheek, memorizing the glass window next to you. The trees are swaying, and it hurts a little that nothing in you even cared anymore.  

"Why does she always smell like food every day?" A whisper is heard behind you. You sigh. 

Thank god it was Friday. Even if 2 days at home didn't change anything from this reality, it was the only small escape you had.

Lazily waving, you greet your coach and the captain before starting practice. Lucy is the only one nice enough to grin at your arrival. You put your knee braces on and warm up. Your body is sore but you're still determined to stay on the team. This is the last hope you have to prove everyone wrong, you don't plan to mess it up now. 

You take your position in the back and try to remember what Atsumu taught you. Knees bent at this angle, arms showing the front more, hands positioned like this, and you got it. When the whistle sounds you glue your vision to the volleyball. It flies over the net and you sidestep towards its direction. 

Holding onto your breath, your arm touches the ball and sends it flying into the air. Lucy gasps and woo's, “Nice receive (Y/n!)" It takes you a moment to remember the game is still in play, but you're smiling happily. Miyu sets the ball and Angie spikes flawlessly against the blockers. A gleam sparkles in your eye. 

"Don't get all excited, it was just one receive." Angie huffs, turning to you. You nod and get into position again. Lucy is serving, and hers are always difficult. Still, you don't back down, and you achieve your focus on the direction of the ball. It appears it's going to hit the side. Quickly it swerves towards you instead and you manage to bump it. Angie is blocked by two on the right, the left is covered by 1, and the center is in the back. Miyu jumps and eyes the left which makes the center switch direction. 

With a thud, the ball falls to the ground. The whistle blows, pointing to your side, and the other groans. 

"Seriously, a dump shot!?"

"I'll say, you even had me fooled." Lucy giggles, stepping to the next rotation. 

Serve after serving you're effortlessly receiving the ball, and the excitement in your legs keeps up with the action. The adrenaline was making your heart stammer. You jump high to receive. Another spike is slammed your way and you dive, hitting the ball only with your wrist to send it shortly in the air. "Sorry! Cover!" 

Miyu runs to your side and smacks it with her palm to send it up. It’s a little high, but Angie manages to spike it from the back, scoring a point. You throw your hands up in the air, wooing. Angie shoots you a small glare, annoyed, but not as harsh as the other days, and Miyu has a barely noticeable tug at her lips. The coach crosses his arms, seeming pleased. 

You finally are back into your game. You aren't going to be the black sheep any longer. 

Arms receiving a hard spike, the ball returns to the other side and Lucy spikes with all her might through the hands of 3 blockers for a perfect line shot. You run just in time and you attempt to receive it but it hits your side and bounces off. Combined with the kick Kiyoko sent you, it hurt a little more than you would've liked. A hiss escapes. Of course, just in time for Lucy to serve as well. 

The volleyball is set in the air, and Lucy jumps to smack it down. It’s so fast your arms miss by a second and it flies past you. They score a point, and you breathe deep and concentrate. Lucy repeats the action, but you're there just in time for the ball. As you receive it, the force pushes you back and you hear a crack in your foot as it bends to the side. Groaning in pain, you clutch it desperately and the coach calls for a timeout. 

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" A few teammates ask and you nod forcefully, pushing yourself to stand only to fall again. Lucy holds onto your hands to help you up and the pressure on your ankle cries out. 

The coach has you sit on the bench. "It's just a sprain, no worry. Sit out for today." 

There's a deep frown on your face. Fear and disappointment cascade on you. You're definitely going to be kicked off now. 

The coach turns to you while you're lost in thought, wrapping your foot. A mind deep down a rabbit hole. 

"You did well today." His tone is firm, but you know he means it. Surprised, you fixate on him and he's staring at the game ahead. A blush dusts your cheeks and you continue wrapping the sprain, a happiness blooming in your chest. 

When practice ends you timidly apologize to Lucy who is walking your way. She pats your shoulder, "You did good today, don't worry. By Monday you'll be brand new again." You nod, blushing at the compliment.

"Thanks." 

Comfortable silence falls, and you're just about finished wrapping your foot. All the girls left already, and you test your steps carefully, lightly applying pressure to your foot. It didn't hurt as bad with the cover which was good enough for you to walk home. You start humming happily while packing your things, completely lost in the clouds. 

"Ready to go?" 

The sound makes you squeak in fear. Your hand presses to your stammering pulse, and you see Atsumu smirking at your surprise. 

You already forgot that was today, and you nervously shift your tone.

"Oh.. yeah.." 

He waits for you to be a step in front of him so you can lead. God, why did you choose this option again? Yeah, maybe the girls would've been at the library, but they wouldn't do anything if he was there. You made the wrong choice. Ugh.

The walk is painfully awkward. it's silent, and feeling him at your side alone makes you incredibly nervous. He's pretty big and muscular for a normal volleyball player. 

You perk to the sound of leaves swaying in the wind. Softly smiling, your hands grip your bag. You did something good today, the coach said so himself.  This gives you the courage to speak. But.. mainly because the silence was becoming unbearable and you'd rather small talk at this point. 

"How was.. your practice?" You shyly ask, and he appears a little surprised at the question. He snickers, and you pout. You knew it was a stupid question.

"Good." 

Great keeping the conversation going (Y/n). It felt more unpleasant than before now. 

He has that usual smirk, but his face looks relaxed. He takes his turn to speak. 

"Heard you been receiving good now." 

How fast does word get out? Sheesh. It must've been from one of the girls who hated you.

You scoff. "Let me guess, Miyu talks to you. Angie maybe?" 

"No. Lucy. She seemed happy for you." Your face switches to shock. "I'm surprised honestly. Expected you to get kicked off the team. But I guess with my advice you made it hm?" He's annoyingly arrogant, but you're so caught up in the thought of Lucy being genuinely happy for you, her speaking to others about it, that you can't even notice. Your skin turns pink and warm. 

"Yes, thank you."

He stops in place, and you're still walking, trapped in a daze. 

"Hey." His harsh tone is enough to fearfully draw you out. You rotate to him, scared. Is this the time when he remembers who you are and bullies you? 

Unexpectedly he pulls you close and his fingers graze your damp hair. You flinch at the contact, nervous, blushing at the closeness. He wanders beneath the layers as if searching for something. You're nervous, but you ease at the softness. You don't know what he was doing, or why, but it felt quite nice. 

He swiftly pulls away and you blink up at his index and thumb that holds a piece of smushed-up spaghetti. You go blank, and he's staring at it the same.

He opens his mouth to speak. "Why do you have food in your hair?" 

This was just about your luck. 

"Oh look, my house is around here. My mom probably cooked dinner, I don't want to keep her waiting." Walking fast, you ignore him and keep your bag tight against you. He catches up to your speed promptly, silent, and your teeth grit against one another. You ignore him and fixate on the ground until you reach your home. 

You stop in front of the home and bite your lip when your hand hovers above the doorknob.

Now you had to worry about your mom and dad embarrassing you even more. 

You exhale a shaky breath. You just needed 1-2 hours, maybe even 3 and that was it. This would be done with, and the shame will die with you.  

"Don't look so worried. I'm pretty good with parents." Atsumu has almost a relieving confidence in his voice 

You nod and open it, instantly being greeted with a warm light. Your mother’s back is facing you, and she's at the stove, cooking. Your father wasn't home yet, he typically didn't come back till later. 

"I'm home!" 

You already know the moment that she turns around she's more than excited. Atsumu trails behind you, wearing a fake pleasant smile, and her eyes go wide.

"Miya Atsumu, a pleasure to meet you." He bows and your mother gasps. 

"Oh, my-" You send her a quick glare that says don't you dare say anything bad. When Atsumu rose you fell into a smile again, giggling awkwardly. 

"Come in dear, make yourself at home. You two must be starving." Your mother was already preparing the plates at the table.

You wave her off. "No Mom, really it's okay, we're fine." 

She huffs, "nonsense. Come Atsumu, sit." Your brows knit together, and you open to deny the second time before Atsumu interrupts you.

“Actually, Miss (L/n) I am rather hungry, may I ask what you're making?" Atsumu walks ahead while you're stuck dumbfounded at the doorway. You scowl as he cozies up to your mother, and he returns your look with a smirk. 

“I'm so glad you asked! It's one of my favorites actually." Your eye nearly twitches as he sits down, acting as if he's so intently listening to your mother ramble.

"It's rude to gawk (Y/n), sit down." She draws you out of the daze with a more serious tone. Yet you swear she's giving you the same smugness as he is.

You grumble incoherently, forcing yourself to sit down. Your mother stirs the food a little longer and then switches the heat off. Across from you, Atsumu is snickering quietly and, you're responding with a hardened glare. Once your mother turns, both of you are quick to politely beam as she sets the food on the table. You all share a pleasant thanks then begin serving yourself. 

As awkward as this was, the moment the food touches your tongue, you're buzzing in delight. Your empty stomach greatly appreciates this.

"So tell me Atsumu, did you enjoy her lunch today?" Your mom chirps in. 

You cough out, almost choking on a few grains. Your mother is smiling sweetly, completely oblivious. Here it was, this facade is going to be destroyed now. 

"Yes actually. The spaghetti was wonderful." Your eyes widen as you fixate on Atsumu. He's mimicking that kind expression to your mom. and she's reveling in the fake news. 

"You're going to catch flies if you keep gasping like that (Y/n)." She scolds you out of nowhere and he chuckles politely. You force yourself into normalcy, clearing your throat and eating, Truthfully you're greatly appreciating the lie Atsumu told.

You watch in your peripheral as he cracks a small joke that sends your mother chortling, a little too much. Although embarrassing, it was pleasant. He seems strangely at home and comfortable.

Atsumu offers to clean the dishes when dinner is finished and your mother waves him off politely. "No no, I couldn't ask you to do that. Don't fret dear, you two go upstairs and work on that project." 

He nods, his tone filled with sugar. "If you need help at all, call me."  It'd be convincing if you hadn't known how conniving he was.  

"Oh my, what a nice kid." She nearly fangirls and you cringe. Once he rotates to follow you off to your room, that smug expression returns. 

He lets out a tired sigh once the door closes, like being that fake was exhausting, and his eyes quickly turn serious. Admittedly, the thought of having him sit this close with you in your dimly lit bedroom, all alone, makes you feel.. sort of strange. You sit at your desk and take out your notebook, signaling for him to do the same

You're about to talk about the project details until you turn to see his darker expression. His tall stature or muscular build only aids in the way you shrink in comparison. 

"Want to tell me why your mom asked me that?" 

You still, mouth agape as you thought of what to say. Anything you'd say would only sound more pathetic than what he already thought of you. What could you think of that was better than your current situation? Gnawing at your bottom lip, you struggle to come up with a good answer.  An awkward minute passes and you're still silent. 

He slumps down next to you and sighs.  "Fine, don't tell me." 

You underestimated the space he took with the chair placement and his knee brushes up against your own. You pull away instantaneously, clearing your throat. His arm is nearly caressing yours and you shift uncomfortably.

“Um.. so, what part do you want to do?"  

Atsumu ignores you to stare at your little pink standing pencil holder. His view then shifts to the stuffed animals on your bed, the color of the sheets, and the pink or rainbow pens you held. He stifles a giggle, and you turn a dark shade of red.

"Didn't think the teacher’s pet would be this type." 

You shyly twirl your pencil around as you meekly ask, “What type?" 

He leans back and smirks. "Pink, rainbows, little animal prints, you know, sort of the type to fangirl and go crazy over stupid things." 

You mutter, annoyed. "Well, I’m not… I just like cute things."  

"Good." He yawns obnoxiously, and you huff.

He is clearly getting way too comfortable, way too fast. If you didn't work on this now you'd have to do this weird meetup again. You peer at him expectantly. His hands cradle his head, elbows pointed out to opposite ends of the room. "Right." He remembers casually. "The project." 

You nod. Yes, back to the topic at hand, finally. 

"I already finished my side." He smiles and you blink in shock. 

"What..?" 

"Did it after practice yesterday, you know the day you were out "sick." He emphasizes that in a knowing way. 

"Then..." You trail off, unable to find your words. 

"I wanted to see if I was right about you. I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised. I expected neutral colors, not even a speck of dust, and zero decorations. I guess you're not as stuck up as I might've thought." He arrogantly speaks, and you're barely able to wrap your head around the situation. He acted like he wasn't done with his side, came over to your house, ate your food, cozied up to your mom, and entered your room, all to.. see your personality? 

You ogle at him like he has 4 heads and he laughs. "Relax, it wasn't all for that, I'm not here to stalk you. We still gotta work together, it's not like i'd just be here for you alone." That comment kind of offends you but you ignore it.

It's quiet for a moment, and you straighten your back against the seat. "So.. what do you think I am then?" 

He hums, then smirks. "You're a good girl. Sweet, and hardworking." 

That shouldn't have made you blush like it did, and you avert your attention back to your work. Don't forget this is the man who made you cry only 3 days ago. He's just here to do minimal work and bully you. 

"So.. do you want to merge our parts? Maybe you read mine, I read yours?" 

Atsumu shrugs and takes out his notebook to slap it down in front of you. You give him yours and you open up his to find multiple pages, back and front of written work. He really worked hard on this. 

He snickers at your shock. "Did you forget I have more skills than just volleyball too?" He taunts, reminding you of your previous comment. You frown.

"Sorry," you mumble. 

You read from the top, and a few sentences in you're hooked to the way he writes so eloquently. The style is neat, and for being such an arrogant jerk all the time, he paid attention.

"It's not bad." Atsumu regards yours while flipping through the pages. "But you can work on your voice a little more." 

You're visibly confused, and he further elaborates. 

"This sentence, "if he was going to be out all day, then maybe he would-" it's too much over-explaining. You're losing the point in your nervousness." That is true.

"Just write "He is going to be out for the day." You glue to his words, nodding absent-mindedly. You lean to your notebook that's positioned closer to him, your arm brushing his unknowingly. He quietly fixates on you, and you point to another sentence. 

"So.. like here, if I got rid of the "practically" or "really," then it will make the sentence more clear in this case?" You look up at him, eyes twinkling with some sort of excitement. He gazes for a little too long, and after a few seconds, he clears his throat.  

"Yes." 

You ah, but then slump. 

"I like saying really's though. I feel like it puts more emphasis on something. Like if I were to say... I love ice cream! I'll say I really love ice cream, so they really understand how much I do." Your tone is energetic in a way he's never heard, and he can't help but smile. 

"They'll know you do, just saying love is enough. Really, makes it a mouthful. Just make it simple. I love ice cream." The way you listen so intently to him has his eyes softening. You move to erase and rewrite, your lips pursing a little in concentration. 

"Does that sound better?" You point your pencil to the new sentence, and he leans down to read it. 

"Perfect." 

You giggle a little and he gleams.

You blush and nervously fidget when you realize how hyper you're being. Your tone is a little more timid now, but it's eager as you point to another sentence.  "Does this work together?" 

"Try removing the "therefore." 

Nodding, you hop back and forth between his writing and yours. His wasn't flawless, but you admitted, it was really good. He was so clear when he spoke, so to the point and confident, whilst yours was all muddled and scared.

You point at his sentence and compare it to one of yours. Erasing, you rewrite a sentence and shift the words around. You're so focused one would think he wasn't even there. 

He's smiling and it begins to be a very pleasant exchange all up until he had to go.

Yet, after the exchange on Friday, no texts were exchanged with one another. You completed the project and that was that, no more communication.

There's a strange disappointment lingering in your chest. You wanted that, so why did it actually kind of hurt? Your mom even left you another nice lunch covered by a pretty wrap with a note nearby saying "packed extra for you and Atsumu to share (:" Shaking your head, you force yourself to move on to more important matters. All you need to focus on now is avoiding the group of bullies.

The bell rings, forcing you out of your thoughts. Rotating your head, Kiyoko catches your eye, and she grins evilly. She begins to remove herself from her desk. Here we go, you sigh.

You expect any minute for her to pass your desk, but she doesn’t, and you turn around, confused. 

Kiyoko’s mouth is open in a gasp, and she’s paused, eyes glued to something moving. You follow her frantic view only to swiftly mimic it.

Atsumu was walking to you, directly to you. No, there was no way, right? That had to be wrong. He pauses a few inches from your seat, his hand holding his lunch. “Figured we’d polish our projects before tomorrow.” 

“O-Oh, yeah of course.” You pull the notebook out that you had just packed up, and as you do that, you shoot a glimpse over to Kiyoko and the girls. She glares back at you a fit of fuming jealousy that knits her brows tight together. You’re relieved sure, but the fear of what they’d do to you once the period ends and you have 0 protection sets a pang of discomfort in you. But.. at least just for today, you can eat your food and not have to return to class with wet dirty hair.

When you’re not looking, Atsumu eyes the girls and they jump, their expressions changing from scowls to fear. They swiftly turn away. 

“Here.” Atsumu places his bento on your desk, and you blink, confused. 

There’s his smug smile, but it was softer strangely. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint your mother.”  

You blush. Right.. that was true. He picks up yours in the cute cat wrap and chuckles at the pattern. Those were also now softer, and you hated to admit that it sent you the right kind of anxious butterflies. He unwraps the box and opens it, finding just enough food for 2. He is taken aback, yet eases quickly after, smiling sweetly. The sweetest you’ve ever seen, it's like you weren’t even meant to see it. 

You shyly unwrap his and before opening it you nervously look at him. Opening your mouth to speak, his hand gestures to you. “Don’t ask if I’m sure or not, just eat it.” Although his tone was firm, it wasn’t as harsh as it always was either. You nod timidly and open it. 

The smell of fried shrimp, sushi, and rice hits your nose. It was delicious looking, and after not having a good lunch for about 2 weeks, tears nearly protrude from your eyes. 

“Thank you!” You hold your hands together and grab the chopsticks greedily. You slept late again. The dread of going to school last night kept you up enough to not be able to eat a proper breakfast again, so this was heaven-sent. 

He takes a bite of your food and then pauses when he sees you scarfing up his meal like it was your last. Eventually, you catch him staring, and your face goes red. Bowing your head you shout, “Sorry!” and nonetheless, continue aggressively eating. He snickers to himself. 

A few women in the class are almost frozen, their eyes deep-set in hatred and growling.

“He refused the lunch I made for him..” One girl mutters sadly to her friend who is also sunken. 

“She’s eating his lunch.” Another girl across the class whispers. 

“The nerve of her. He probably cooked that with all his time and love, and she’s inhaling it like a monster!” You’d think tears were running down this one’s face, she was that dramatic. 

You clear your throat and place the cover onto the empty bento. The embarrassment is only now rushing to you when you realize Atsumu is only halfway done. 

“Um.. thank you.. for sharing.” 

He hums in acknowledgment while chewing on your mother’s cooking. “Tell miss (L/n) I loved it.” You blush and nod. 

“I will..” 

Kiyoko was practically twitching in a fury. She would get you back for this, whether you liked it or not. 

Usually, you take your time to pack up your things once class ends for the day. You were always the last one out, but that always gave you some peace of mind. The hallways had a few students aiming around for who knows what, and there were no noisy bells or chatterers. 

Today is a good day. Your stomach is happy, and you’re able to bring home a realistically empty lunchbox to your mother. No lies are to be created about how you shared it when you truly didn’t. Your hair is perfect, your clothes are clean, and you have a dull ache in your chest as you think of Atsumu sitting by you and eating. Why? You aren’t sure. 

But you’re humming joyfully, feet walking slowly as a smile stains your face. Your foot is healed now, so you’ll be able to play. With the advice he gave you, you’re receiving plenty too. Prancing outside, you take a turn, making your way towards the gym, now nearly skipping in delight. The trees are wavering again, and the smell of sweet grass pierces your smell pleasantly. 

You’re about to take another turn until you hear a voice that makes you stop dead in your tracks. 

“What is taking so long?”

“Are you sure she didn’t take another route? Or go home for that matter?” 

“She’ll be here, relax.” 

Your heart speeds in your throat, and your feet feel anchored to the ground. They don’t see you yet, if you run they won’t know. Just turn back now, quietly, and you’ll be free for today. Walk slowly and avoid them.  You silently rotate your legs, afraid even the dirt beneath you will make an obvious sound. 

Your eyes meet with one of the girls in your class, and you frightfully gasp. Her hands are on her waist and she’s smirking. Your shoulders are shoved hard and a yelp escapes as you fall to the ground. It’s enough for Kiyoko to see your figure, and that same devilish grin stretches ear-to-ear. Panicking, you try to scramble away only for one girl to step behind you and threaten any further movement. 

Kiyoko meets your terrified eyes, and she’s snickering, tilting her head. 

“What, you thought you wouldn’t get your treatment today because Atsumu-san sat by you?” she scoffs and you’re shaking your head desperately.

“You know he only is doing this because of the project right? Tomorrow it’ll be back to normal, he won’t care anymore, and you’ll be treated the same old again.” Kiyoko giggles, and you’re eyes are still wide in fear. 

Your shoulders are being held down by the girl behind you, and Kiyoko’s smile suddenly drops. A slap makes your chin turn from the impact, the sting burning into your cheek. 

“I thought of something fun today.” Her hands grab at something behind her, and there’s a sharp gleam as she fixates on you. She pulls out a pair of scissors and you flinch when she holds it up to your throat. She reaches around to pull your hair, angling your neck into it. You don’t dare gulp or inhale, and you’re gritting your teeth at the pain of her fingernails digging into your scalp. 

She angles her lips at your ear, whispering darkly. “I’m going to make you look more hideous than you already are. Then no one will look at you.” 

Her tight grip leaves. You breathe in relief before she grabs a fistful of your locks and opens the scissors wide.

It’s about to snap shut on your hair before she speaks again. “If you talk to him again I’ll-“

“You’ll what?”

Kiyoko’s fingers waver, and she immediately becomes as stiff as a board. Her breath hitches, and your view is blocked by her body until she moves to the side, her grip on your hair escaping. Instantaneously the pressure on your shoulders releases too. 

Atsumu is there, standing a few feet away from your forms, hands pressed to his waist. His eyes are serious and he’s not even smiling like he always is. You’re just as surprised, and you almost fall back to the ground without a stable grip on your shoulders. 

“Ah,” he hums, a fake unpleasant lightness in his voice. “I knew well this was going to happen after I disturbed your little lunch get-together.” He tilts his head to the side, the ending of his words darkening. “Didn’t I?” 

Kiyoko and the women are stammering, shaking, unsure of what to do or say. “A-Atsumu! I-I-” He motions his arm up, and his expression dulls coldly as he makes a closed fist. They mutually shut their mouths like they're being trained.

“To think you squealing pigs made me miss out on practice because of this.” His tone is low, an unquelled irritation bouncing in each syllable.  They flinch, unexpecting him to sound so harsh. He sighs, slumping his form. It’s silent for a few seconds until he looks up again, a grave darkness shifting in him.

“You disgust me. Now get out of my sight.” His words come out like a screech in the silent atmosphere, and their breaths halt in their throat. 

The one behind you instinctively dashes on her heels and sprints fast. Another near Kyoko does the same, a third following her until she is the last remaining. She stands peering at you and him, and he’s glaring as if prepared to rip her to shreds.  

A frustration boils in her face and she forces herself to throw the scissors onto the ground, making you flinch. She can’t even muster a sharp glare as she looks at you. Instead she seems frustrated, ashamed, and hesitant. Her fists ball and clench tight before evidently leaving.

You’re still stuck replaying the horrific scene, and a terrible silence erupts. Atsumu’s glower disappears, and he’s suddenly above you, holding his hand out to you. 

Pathetic… you're so pathetic. 

You smack his hand away and his eyes widen. 

“I don’t need your help.” 

You pull yourself to your feet even if it hurts, revealing your back to him.

Anger. Embarrassment. Sadness. Disappointment. When you would go home today, you’d Slam your bedroom door shut, curl into your sheets, and weep into your pillow.

But for right now, your soles remain anchored to the ground, adamant on showing him that you aren’t just going to be a baby and cry, even if tears are threatening to escape. 

You spoke as firm as can be, your voice cracking a little. “Just go away.” 

It takes a moment before you can hear him finally walking away. All you can imagine is that his uncaring smirk is back like nothing happened.

A minute or two passes, and when you’re sure he’s gone, tears stream down your cheeks. You wipe them with the end of your sleeve, sniffling helplessly.

You just want to go home. 

[notthecutesttrash]

Defiance

Content: It’s been a few months and Ghostface hasn’t visited since that day. Officially tired of it, you decide to go along with your friend who makes a date with a new alpha for you.

Trigger warnings: 18+ Smut, degradation, lots of blood, death, spanking, implied somnophilia, daddy kink, injury, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), implied stalking, mentions of knives, typical alpha/omega biology

Word count: 13.9k

PART 1

A phone rang beside your figure, disturbing your much peaceful-like silence. With a groan, your hands pulled at the painfully loud object. 

“Hello?” It sounded irritated at first, but you calmed down into a small curiosity. Silence. No noise on the end, not even a small thud to signify any existence. You knew not to get your hopes up, but instinctively your legs shuffled uncomfortably with high anticipation. 

Seconds passed, and still nothing, just sweet awkward silence. Huffing in disappointed frustration, you pulled the object away from your ear and as you were about to place it away, you heard an ushering “Hello..? Helllllo? Helllllloooo?” Recognizing the sound, you exhaled a quick breath of relief.

 “Hi, (F/n).” you exhaled another subconscious sigh, ear pressed against the phone once more. 

“(Y/n)! Thank god, it didn’t seem like my voice was working for a moment. Might’ve pressed mute, not sure. Either way, hey!” The woman spoke with excitement. Knowing her well, you were aware of how she had this mischievous little voice at the end of her words. 

A small flicker of disappointment struck your heart. You long ignored the sad feeling. It was a reoccurring issue since.. that night. 2 months passed, longer it felt even, and not one word.. not one lingering scent.. not a flicker of hope to reassure you about the strange masked man. You were beginning to feel as if it was one hell of a heat dream. 

You knew full well it wasn’t… although long since faded, the knot told you otherwise. Blinking back to reality, you gave out a small fake chuckle. 

“Right. So… what’s your plan? You want to go to a bar to pick up some sexy alphas?” You joked a small irritated feeling deep in your stomach churned at such a thought. 

“Hmmm.. no. Well… maybe.. depends on how your day goes.” The woman nearly broke out in a revealing giggle. Her excitement poured out of her words a little too much for your liking. 

“Uh huh.. and why would such a thing matter?” If you didn’t play into her guessing game soon, you knew the girl would have nearly lost it in patience, and this made you grin. 

A small huff was heard over the phone. “Wellll… I may have met a sexy alpha the other day… got his number.. said it was for a cute little omega such as yourself. He seemed excited, and hey, todayyy he seemed to be… strangely free. What ya thinkin’?” (F/n) beamed, sounding as if she had been at the edge of her seat. 

You continued to fiddle with the fabric of your shorts, picking at the designs one by one. Truthfully, you were hardly ever interested in her experience, but this time you glanced up, looked at the time, shrugged, and said, “Why not?” 

Gasping, the girl broke out with a shocked “Wait…what?! …. Really??!” 

A draft of irritation washed over as you turned your head to your kitchen counter, then over to the windows that showed a clear view of the outside. You mumbled to no one in particular, “It’s not like I’m reserved for any other alpha anyways.” A huff beneath your breath was apparent.  

You stayed silent for a moment before ignoring your anger. 

“Yes… BUT you’re helping me get ready.” 

“I’m on my way,” the woman ushered out in full confidence, causing a swift shared chuckle from both lines. 

Both of you uttered out quick goodbyes soon after. Your body stood up, suddenly feeling a flash of hope cross. 

Stepping in front of the mirror, your eyes took an instant notice of your rough bed ridden horrors. You lightly brushed your fingers through as much as you could. You didn’t think this would make you as excited as it strangely did, but you soon seemed to realize that your body was almost dancing at the thought of finally being able to forget about such occurrences. Your choices could’ve opened wide to any other alpha you wanted, and the thought made you practically laugh at the thought of the masked man. 

Humming happily with a small smile painted on your lips, you shook yourself out of your comfortable pajamas and stared out at your unused clothing. What to wear… you thought. Perhaps something sexy for a date of wine drinking.. perhaps for something fancy like a well-cut steak. Or perhaps something sweet and casual, for a little cafe. Maybe both. Something you assumed (F/n) would’ve thought of, was the idea of a regal yet comfortable bar. 

An omega in such a place could cause harsh dangers, so she always knew, that no matter how cute the date, she would always be there. At most, she had the choice to linger in the background, carefully yet happily watching. 

Time must’ve passed quickly because once the doorbell rang, you were forced out of your deep thoughts. Promptly, you made sure to throw something on before you opened the door to see your very excited friend. Your grin turned into confusion as you scanned over the unused bottle of assumed champagne in her hands. The woman cheerfully waltzed in and set the bottle at the nearest counter. 

“One, what the hell are you wearing? Two… ” her fingernails tapped at the cold bottle. She moved to wrap her arms around your form, pure giddiness exploding out. You shared the same expressions until your hand grabbed at the champagne, your face shifting straight. You didn’t need to say anything for her to quickly begin her reasoning. 

“Well, I decided.. if things go right, you can bring the man home and well.. enjoy yourselves.” She smiled with false innocence, her head bobbing to the side happily. 

“Please..” You snickered with a roll of your eyes, making for a swift turn towards your now messy room. The moment her eyes gazed upon the atmosphere she now was the one to give you a blank stare, hardly impressed with your options. 

“You were never good with choosing what to wear were you?” She sighed, hands at her hips, eyebrows raised sarcastically. 

“That’s why I have you.” You beamed with a ding, throwing a flattering shirt towards her form.

She caught it well, giving it a quick look and a hum…  It didn’t last long, and she rapidly flicked it to a messy pile of “definitely not” clothes. Her form moved to your closet, and her arms began searching as if it was her damn job. You sat upon your bed, watching how she moved, hearing how she muttered “no. Definitely not. Hmm.. maybe.. no.. yes..” Under her breaths, until she eventually found a flattering pick. 

She pressed it against your skin, forcing with gestures for you to get off your ass. This was an important matter clearly, and she wanted you to look at least damn good. (F/n) pressed the dress against your neck, lining it up perfectly so she could see where it falls and where it begins. The dress dropped down to your mid-thighs, its pinkish color making you stand out just a little, but still be a part of a group with its simple sweet design. 

“Something like this will do.” (F/n) nodded with affirmation, plucking at its design. 

You shrugged, lightly shooing her out of the room before you undressed once more. 

Allowing the soft fabric to glaze over your skin, you softly smiled, feeling much more shyly omega than you would have considered. Nonetheless, the color matched well with your hair, and although your bare legs were revealed, and it was a common sight, them being exposed because of a dress made you feel inevitably shyer. 

There was that lovely little submissive omega side of you coming out. 

You stood in front of the mirror a little longer, somewhat admiring the look of yourself. (F/n) whined her rushed words, and you soon got out of your dazed look, not realizing that your eyes were already blown out of proportion at the thought of being taken hard and nicely by a dominant alpha. A trickle of wetness produced and dripped slightly down your panties. 

A strange familiar scent made you curiously peak up at the window beside you. You weren’t sure why this was your instinctual thought. Either way, you couldn’t think of it for too long before you opened your door, letting the excited woman in. 

“Look at you! If I was an alpha I know I’d want to take you,” she jokingly purred. You awkwardly blushed, your legs pressing against each other sheepishly, fearful that your arousal might’ve been obvious. Body getting hot and flushed, you decided to change the subject. Quickly walking out to where the champagne bottle had been placed, your fingernails eagerly picked at its cold wrapper. 

Once (F/n) followed and gazed at the sight, a quick inevitable gasp caused her to rush up to you and nearly slap your greedy hands away. 

“No no no, absolutely not.” She said, cradling the bottle as if it was her child, away from my sight. 

“Not even just a little..?” You fake pouted, eyes growing wider. 

“I don’t think so, sweetie. Your nonsense doesn’t work on us betas. But nice try. This is for later.” The girl placed it back down, her hand patting at it. 

“Hmm.. but what if there was no later?” You hummed, your body swinging side to side, your sweet dress following along with it. It almost made you feel like a princess. 

“And you wonder why you don’t want to go out and meet new alphas.” (F/n) shot at you sarcastically. 

A small laugh escaped, but it soon drifted into a deep sudden thought. If only the true reason wasn’t so strange and horrid sounding. 

“Okay (Y/n), he’ll be about there in 20 minutes or so. Are you ready to be treated like a queen?” She mused half-jokingly. Before you could even muster an answer, she spoke with small anger.

“I’ll make sure on my damn life he will.” You knew she was serious, considering she was giving you a deep gaze. You only nodded. 

Her mouth opened to speak once more, but it was quickly interrupted by the sound of the all too familiar phone ring. Exhaling a sigh, you gestured away for a moment, taking time to move to your living room. Once you grabbed the phone, you answered with honey, tiptoeing with excitement. 

“Hello?” 

"Omega..” 

Your heart leaped into your throat, and suddenly your feet dropped. 

“What is my sweet little omega doing today?” 

 You inhale sharply, your heart begins to stammer with quick fear. The tone was deep.. familiar.. terrifyingly cold and secretly irritated. It was to the point where it felt as if the man behind the tone might as well just have stabbed you himself. It didn’t help that your cunt might have gotten fearfully aroused. You didn’t say a single word, frozen in every emotion you might’ve thought of. 

“(Y/n)! Who is it?!” (F/n) shouted from the kitchen, a sound of shuffling evident. 

With that, you took it as an instinctual need to slam the phone down into its receiver as fast as you could. “Nothing.. just.. wrong number!” You exhaled shakily to yourself, walking away from the room to where (F/n) was. She was grabbing at your mother and your father’s kitchenware, poking and prodding around. “It’s a good thing your parents are almost always never home. Imagine what they would do if they found a big bottle of champagne in your kitchen with some hot alpha stranger,” she spoke all while shoving a giant spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. 

You said nothing, unable to muster out any thought. Continuing to breathe erratically, you moved to your window, as if you were perhaps fearful that someone or something might be there. 

“Are you okay?” (F/n) knitted her eyebrows together, voice laced with worry. 

“Yeah.. just… weird.” You couldn’t say much else but she simply just shrugged it off, nodding away. 

“Tell me about it.” 

“Anyways.. are we gonna go?” You rushed to say, your eyes glued to the woman in somewhat hidden fear. 

She nodded. “Let’s do it.”

She placed the champagne into the fridge comfortably, then grabbed her keys. You were still frantically looking out of every window within your radius, all while trying to casually follow (F/n) to the door. 

Once more, as you were about to take a few more steps, the phone rang. 

“Again?” (F/n) threw her hands in the air with a groan and a quick roll to her eyes. “I’ll be in the car, just answer it real quick.” 

You contemplated on whether or not to truly ignore it once she had turned away… or to use this opportunity to ask why, to get angry and yell that the son of a bitch left you and had the nerve to call now when you were finally about to have fun again. With an angered huff, you walked back to the phone, your hands wrapping around it with a pause. An indecisive fear rushed once more, but you swallowed it back and pushed the phone to your ear. 

“Don’t you fucking dare (Y/n).”

It didn’t take more than a second for a deeply upset alpha to be heard. The words were supposed to anger you, supposed to make you feel a raging determination. But instead, you instinctively whimpered out, the omega in you feeling painfully complacent, an urging desire to please. Wetness poured down your panties at the thought of staying here, waiting until the masked assailant would come back and fuck you horribly raw for hours. 

A quick thought of anger recoiled into you. This is your time to show that you’re not just gonna be a desperate little omega waiting around for your ass of an alpha. Your rational side struck in, and the black of your eyes and the wetness of your twitching pussy calmed quickly. 

“Remember what I said ome-“ you slammed the phone into its receiver once more. Your omega side was getting desperate, but luckily you were filled with enough anger to slightly ignore it. 

Remember what? You hissed to yourself angrily, your stomped steps leaving a loud trail behind you. The nerve this man had, to call you after months. To have the nerve to knot you and leave his apparent “sweet little omega” alone. The door slammed behind you and you couldn’t help but noticeably tense up your facial features. He was out there, fucking omega after omega, probably using his little stupid getup to make sure no woman could chase after him. 

A large, deep furious boiling envy overtook you. Your thoughts were racing one after another, not realizing you reached the car that (F/n) had been calmly waiting in. 

She turned to you, “Are you sure you’re okay? Who was it on the phone? You look pissed. Like someone cheated on you pissed.” Her brows once more scrunched in worry and confusion. 

You bit your tongue, holding back every little bit of retort that revealed what that whole situation was. Exhaling a sigh, you stepped inside the vehicle and made sure to simply keep your angry thoughts in the back of your head. “Dude just won’t stop calling the wrong number,” you half-joked in an attempt to ease the conversation. 

“Maybe “dude” just wanted to hear your cute little voice.” She poked at your side, teasing as she buckled in. Playfully rolling your eyes, you turned to gaze out your window, lingering on the trees outside your house. “You know what they say, the moment you get taken every hottie in town suddenly calls you up.” She chuckled, her hands grabbing at the steering wheel. Humming in response, your peering quickly stopped once your house was beginning to get further and further. 

Once the place was long gone from your head and eyes, your worries slipped away, and you once more began to remember why you truly were here in the first place. Your conversations made your mind settle with ease, and (F/n)’s demeanor caused some oblivious happiness within you. The omega within you was once more anxious.. yet aroused at the thought of meeting another alpha. 

“All right (Y/n) you got this.” (F/n) smiled reassuringly, patting your arm as you both unbuckled your seats and stepped within a radius of what you correctly assumed was a pretty-looking bar. The anxiousness settled within your stomach, in turn, you exhaled a rough sigh. There were a few whiffs of scents that crossed your nose, one that smelled like pure ash and cigarettes which almost made you scrunch up in disgust. 

It was when your feet stepped into the area, that you hummed at the sweet smell of cinnamon, perhaps a vanilla even. (F/n) silently gestured to the man as lowly as she could, and with her last words she parted from you, meddling into a seat far enough but still in perfect view. Throwing her a look once you had sat down freely next to the man, he gave you a look as if to disregard you. It was an awkward second before he had looked over your form once more. This time it lingered, and surely he could smell you as much as you could him. 

“You must be that beautiful omega that (F/n) was telling me about.” The man spoke, a rather sexy grin spreading, his head tilting in intrigue. 

A small blush spread across your cheeks, and you shyly tucked your hair to your ear. Eyes ogling at one another, his gaze appeared as if it was drinking at the sight of you. You could tell he was thinking harsh things considering his scent shifted strongly, causing your heat to tingle with excitement. With slight blackened eyes, he licked at his lips before taking a long sip of his drink, a sexy groan following. 

The arousal already between your legs was obvious, and so was his.  

“What’s your name?” You asked innocently, head tilting with genuine curiosity. 

He hummed at this, smiling in a way that got your pussy tingling. The silky name rolled off his tongue with ease. 

“(Y/n)” you responded shyly, curling your legs tighter.

“Pretty name,” he smiled. Thinking nothing of it, you smiled back. 

“Want a taste?” The man pulled his drink towards you, his eyebrow raising. 

You thought for a moment, before shrugging. Lips wrapping around where his once was, warm arousal in your abdomen surged to your sex. The liquid slipped in, and you savored it sweetly as it hit your tongue. It was cold, refreshing with a thin tinge of grape. It wasn’t as rough as you expected, and you took another sip, soon moaning out your approval. The burn in your throat lasted for a few small seconds. 

You were oblivious to the arousal you gave him, and you were too innocent to realize how his eyes were darkening by the second. Once you handed him his drink back, you proceeded to order the same. 

“What is it?” You asked after eventually receiving a copy of his glass. 

 “Ciroc,” he mused with a dark tone. You blinked at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle deep. That response ignited a small instinctive hitched breath from your form. Luckily you were able to hide… some of your pure attraction.

 “It’s vodka, sweet omega.” He said, smiling down at you with such a piercing look that you were sure he could read right through you.

Muttering out an “Oh,” your shy gaze dropped from his dominating peering, a trickle of wetness pouring into your already-soaked panties. You awkwardly sipped at your drink, too shy to glimpse back at his eyes. At the simple gesture of not meeting his gaze, his orbs blackened more so, surely thinking what a sweet, and perfectly submissive little omega you were. 

The smell of your sex caused him to groan out huskily. Taking another long gulp of his drink, he breathed in such a way as if to signify that he was losing his mind. You took another shared sip of your drink, eyes peeking towards (F/n). She glanced away as soon as your eyes met, a grin spreading wide upon her proud features. 

It was silent for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. It was knowing, and the air was filled with a musk scent that a few others couldn’t help but turn their heads to. Betas or not, it was obvious what was happening between a clear alpha and unclaimed omega. It was until about halfway of being finished with your drink, that you decided. 

“Do.. “ you paused, catching his dark gaze once more. His attention was fully on you, and that wasn’t changing anytime soon. “Do you… want to get out of here..maybe.. go to my place?” You shyly asked, fiddling with your fingers, eyes stuck on the man in front of you. 

The man grabbed at your drink and downed every last bit of liquid there was. He ushered the bartender over and pulled out his wallet. Something so simple, such as his counting was aggressive and filled with arousal. He handed what he needed over to the other man, paying for what seemed like much more than just yours and his drink. How much did he have before you arrived? 

His hand grabbed at yours, and this prompted you to get off your seat and follow. You rotated to (F/n) and she swiftly did the same, following after she practically slammed her change on the table. When you were outside again, the day had gotten already so dark, and you could tell it was soon about to be night within perhaps an hour. 

The alpha looked impatient, and within a second he turned around to you, his lips smashed into yours. It tasted of hard liquor and from this, you hummed. Your hand lightly wrapping around the back of his neck, pushing him in for more. A low growl came from his throat, and a soft whimper followed from your own. 

“Hey, hey, before you two go crazy on each other…” Both of your features couldn’t help but irritatingly stop and turn to the voice of (F/n) who was holding her hands up as if she was innocent. 

She gestured to you, throwing you her keys. You caught them and pulled away shyly, exhaling a shaky aroused breath. It was obvious that both you and the alpha wanted to do whatever you wanted to do instantaneously. The thought of having to wait at most about 10 minutes or so, shouldn’t have seemed like it was a big deal, but for both a very aroused omega and alpha to sit together not doing a single thing to another for even two minutes, that sounded like torture.

Both you and the man hadn’t made a move, and you simply stayed silent. She gazed at your forms, able to tell that a heavy whiff of impatience and arousal poured into the atmosphere. So much so that you’d basically just fuck in the car.

(F/n) sighed. “All right, give me the keys. You two better hold it in your pants.” She huffed, rounding to the driver’s seat. You sheepishly followed, your hands together at your legs. The man grunted at the unfortunate plan of not only (F/n) there, but the thought of simply having to be patient for a moment before the definite plan of fucking you senseless. 

The woman patted the passenger seat with a stern stare as if she was purposely pulling you two away from one another, knowing full well what would happen if you both were in the backseats. 

The man grumbled and although he was breathing heavily both out of need and heavy impatience, he silently moved to sit in the seat. You moved to the back seat, sitting in the middle, your gaze down to your feet. Tightly, your legs were pressed to one another, afraid that your arousal would pour down your thighs and onto the leather.

The silence was painful once (F/n) had begun to calmly drive. Surely, your mind and his were clouded with lust, the thoughts of taking, or being taken repeating. The man’s leg was impatiently bouncing up and down. 

The alpha’s heavy breathing and soft growls were clouding your mind. Your heat was drenching your panties even more at the thought of stepping inside your house and instantly being fucked as hard as the man could muster. 

Your nose inhaled as much as it could to get every little scent of the alpha. Eyes closing and head rolling to your side, you nearly dropped on the seats. The instinctive need to slip your fingers down your cunt, to roll around at your clit, was becoming difficult to ignore. The harsh omega within you nearly slipped as many times as it could, before your nearing smaller and smaller rational side, exclaimed loudly to hold back. 

“Hey hey.. (Y/n).” Your eyes fluttered, blinking tiredly up at (F/n). The car was unmoving, parked perfectly at your house. How long were you just sitting there thinking? 

“Come on girl, get up.” She gestured at you, moving down to talk closer to your ear. “You got a sexy alpha waiting for you.”

Nearly moaning, your wobbly legs arose, moving towards your front door. (F/n) didn’t follow, and instead, she simply waved at both of your figures, shouting a nonchalant “Have fun!” She was quick to wink, sitting back in the car to drive off as fast as she could. Your hands were grabbing at your keys, attempting poorly to unlock the door.

The alpha moved against your back dangerously close, his mouth at your neck, growling and nearly biting into claim you. You weren’t even inside yet and your legs felt weak, mouth sputtering with harsh moans. Eventually, through many long seconds, you managed to open the door, and as quickly as it was opened, it was closed with both of your bodies now pressed against each other into a melted kiss. Your back was against the door, and your legs instinctively wrapped around the alpha’s body, hands desperately clutching on his back. 

His erection prodded at your sex, and with this, he made sure to grind against you real hard. You squealed out a whimpered “Alpha!” 

Growling once more, his lips didn’t stop kissing yours for what felt like minutes until he finally pulled away. It allowed you to pant for a long moment as he began to eagerly kiss your neck, licking along your beautiful unclaimed spot. You couldn’t ponder anything over the heated arousal and the wave of pleasure that he sent you with a single kiss.

You took a whiff through your nose, and a long moan poured from your lips. Continuing to inhale to achieve the same bliss, a small smile tugged at your lips. You did it once more, and with each time that you did, it was getting stranger and stranger.

Ultimately your eyes opened, and your focus drifted not to the kissing of the man on you, but the strange scents that were mixing. It smelt.. strong, so very strong, but it didn’t seem as if it was coming from the alpha practically on top of you. 

In a way.. it smelt like it was.. behind his form. It was as if there was a thick musk surrounding him in a perfect barrier. The alpha in front of you was beginning to lose his unique aroma.. in truth, you weren’t sure what his smell was anymore.

You couldn’t help but drown in this new smell, your moans now belonging to the lovely scent that you were inhaling like a drug. You lost notice of how the alpha at your neck was lightly sinking his teeth in. 

“Mmm..” Soft breaths of yours filled the atmosphere, and the alpha tightened his grip on your thighs, pulling your form and his away from the wall and into another room. His gaze caught your living room, and he swiftly pulled you over to the location and greedily threw you on the couch with him on top of you. Your legs softened tightened him, and soon you realized he was still tasting and licking at your neck, his teeth inching more and more in. 

This caused you to inevitably pause. The omega within you was going insane, it was finally going to get what it needed. 

A small voice screamed No. 

This isn’t what you wanted. 

“Wait..” You muttered out, your hands on his shoulders. He only growled in return, continuing even more so. His teeth grazed your neck too deep for your liking. Half of you started to panic as much as you could before your instinctual need to be claimed had gotten out of control. “W-Wait… alpha..” You tried to mutter out through your desperate moans.

Once again, no response, and this time when you felt his teeth, you craned your neck back, crying out loud in pleasure. Your mind was becoming cloudy, and you only managed to whimper out a few “no’s” before you submitted into your quivering need. Your legs clamped around him as hard as could be, and the sinking displeasure grew painfully quiet.

The man raised his head and looked deep into your needy yet desperate tearful orbs. “Omegas don’t talk back to their alphas.” These words were dark and at any other point It would have been upsetting.. but in instantaneous response, you nodded your head, pleasure and heat overwhelming your mind. 

He furthered the treatment upon your neck, sinking back into a comfortable place. Your eyes closed, delving into the man’s passion. The voice in your head said nothing other than how you needed this claim. Your nose inhaled a large beautiful whiff of that same sexy scent.. it was delicious and even closer than before.

His teeth began to dig in deep, and as you were about to scream out a “yes!” Every action ceased. The man grunted loudly out of character, and he felt unusually stiff. When you blinked open your eyes in soft confusion, they widened, and a gasp caused you to nearly scream out. The man on top of you choked out stuttering breaths, his body raising as he observed the scene. The tip of a deep familiar knife evident through his chest poked through, blood pouring around the sudden wound. 

You violently quivered as not a second passed before the same weapon yanked out and jabbed through another part of the man’s body… The man choked out globs of red over the pink of your dress. Breath caught, and throat dry, your quivering shocked eyes stuck to the man above you.

Your eyes gazed deep into one another, his orbs were filled with sudden shock of pain, pure horrid confusion. He couldn’t mutter a syllable as the blade was taken out once more, only to stab into his back continuously. Again.. and again.. and again.. it was sickening, and all you could do was watch as your stomach violently churned. 

Red splattered at your lips, and the alpha body poured out with blood.. so much blood, and with each jab, the splatter flicked at your features.

You took in a sharp inhale, tears cascading down your cheeks as you began to grasp even a moment of the scene. The man coughed up once more until it looked as if the light had faded from his eyes. No words were made as he fell limp. His torso swung to the floor, and when you had managed to glimpse up.. your throat tightened in horror.

Tears were pouring down your terrified orbs that had caught with an all too familiar masked figure. 

Ghostface tilted his head, his right hand gripping a horribly bloody knife. His left hand moved in a slow mocking wave, and although you couldn’t see it, an evil grin felt as if it was painting his face. The adrenaline of your fight or flight response took off, and instinctively you raced off the couch, fear burning and hammering into your heart. 

“Oh come on now (Y/n), don’t run. It’ll only make this a lot harder.” 

Ignoring the voice, you dashed to your front door, knowing full well that if you ran to the phone it wouldn’t end up in your favor. Your heart was racing as you slammed it open, and you were soon darting through the grass and trees that littered your area.

Sticks and rocks were hitting your clothed feet, the darkness pouring around your figure made it impossibly easy to see nothing ahead of you. Running continuously as far as your legs could take you, your torn blurry eyes made it so that a few dangerous branches and trees, were hardly noticeable.

Breathing frantically, the blistering cold atmosphere whipping at your face made the air feel impossibly thin. Time felt as if it was slow, oh so slow as you were terrified of being caught. No matter how much distance you made, you needed more, you were sure he was hot on your tail, ready to dig his blade into your back. Your breaths were short and you were on the verge of hyperventilating. 

You took a deep inhale through your nose as much as you could while sprinting, and when you had smelt possibly nothing, you only calmed down slightly. Hand grasping the bark of a tree, your body paused for a moment just for your aching panic to hammer deep into your chest. When you were beginning to sprint once more to make way for much distance, you realized there was a terrible gnawing pain in your stomach, followed by a pain in your tightened chest for every deep inhale you took. 

A crack in the nearby area caused instantaneous fear, and with this, you made sure to ignore every bit of your clenching muscles. Direction mattered less, and for all you cared, you could run into a ditch that was up ahead. The determination in your body became constant, striving to sprint as fast as your legs could. 

Eyes beginning to get impossibly cloudy, and pace becoming a little slower, you panted without realizing how loud you must’ve sounded. The nearing scent of alpha was surrounding closer and closer. Forcing yourself to break out into an even faster dash, and your exhausted muscles were crying out. 

A crack beneath your feet caused you to hiss out in yelped pain, forcing an inevitable pause. A shard of what felt like glass lodged itself deep into your foot. The crinkles increased in sound when your body met with the cold forest ground. A harsh jab hit then hit at your bare knee. 

Whimpering out, you bit at your hand to keep yourself quiet. A large instantaneous fear wracked your body. The recent memory of blood splattering on your face and seeing the light fall from the man’s face before you surged in your head. The omega within you poured out in sobs, tears pathetically streaming at the fear of what would happen if the alpha found you. 

It was wrong, it was disgusting, it was terrible. 

Tears poured out, and even with a chunk of your hand lodged deep in your mouth, you couldn’t help but whine out loud, the pain of your cut foot searing across your leg. You panted out hot breaths, your hand grabbing at the tree near your fallen form. With every last bit of strength you had, your fingers held tight and clamped down. Quickly, you forcefully stood yourself up. 

The moment your cut bloody skin had even remotely touched the ground, you squealed with pain. Your toes curled, and although this caused more blood to trickle down, you mustered up the courage to continue. Both feet hit against the floor, and with a hiss, you only managed to move a few steps. 

The air around you overflowed with that same lovely yet terrifying scent. It was overpowering and you subconsciously whimpered, helpless, your eyes becoming blackened at just the thought of him nearing your figure. With a poor attempt to shake it off, you stepped forward slowly. The aroma became stronger and stronger. Your sex was throbbing and the fear of disobeying your alpha so heavily was impulsively making you stop in your tracks. 

Don’t give in, don’t give in.. the rational voice in your head screamed out, rapidly thinning away in seconds. 

Leather-like hands snaked their way to the nape of your neck, slowly wrapping around to your front. The scent was terrifyingly strong, your legs trembled, your pussy ached, and your stomach churned. The masked man leaned down, his lips close to your ear. 

“I fucking told you.” 

You shivered with fear at his harsh tone. A soft whimper followed once his fingers graced your hair. Growing smaller and smaller the more he had caressed, you instinctively turned to him, sheepish. The masked figure was an inch away from your quivering form. You could feel his cold angry gaze, and from this you shrunk, your fearful gaze moving to the ground in response. 

“Look what happened because you didn’t fucking listen little one.” He grabbed at your chin and harshly forced you to look at him. Tears were straining in your eyes. Even with your attempts to keep a stronghold, a few escaped through the thinning barricade. A strong anger burned in his silky voice and you quivered, terrified. The remaining peering made your body burn with discomfort. Yet mainly saddened by your alpha’s extreme disappointment, you bit at your lip, holding a barely remaining effort to glare at him back. 

Ghostface tilted his head as if knowing you were attempting to challenge him. There's an unmoving scrutinization, and he coiled your strands in his finger so menacingly slow. This action gets your touch-starved side quivering in arousal. The more you stared back, the more the omega within you exploded. Tears eventually burst in cascades from your eyes. 

The masked man’s fingers moved to play at your hair teasingly. “Little omega can’t be good for her daddy can she..?” He was apathetic once he finally saw you break. This cruel tone made your chest wrack more with continuous sobs. 

His fingers wiped away at a few of the wet streams, almost more irritated at the sight of the pathetic tears. 

“Maybe that’s a good thing… I like a little fight anyways.” Ghostface snickered lowly to himself. His masked features inched closer to your wet cheeks, voice darkening. 

“But.. maybe I should have let the asshole claim you. Knot you deep so you could live your little serene life in a plain home with 4 pups.” His finger prickled at his sharp bloody blade, tone dark and amused at seeing your heart stammer in response. Instinctively you shook your head, your blown-out orbs pleaded with his, practically begging for the alpha to forgive you. 

“No? You don’t like that?” He teased, knowing well that it was causing more of your desperate tears to stream. You shook your head a desperate no once more, your choked cries causing you to struggle with your breaths. 

“Say it.” 

You sniffed, attempting hard not to break out in more tears. “N-N-No..” 

“So is my sweet girl going to be all good for me?” 

You nodded your head in response quickly. He stayed silent, and your broken voice responded with a stuttering “Yes..” 

“Yes, what?” 

“Y-Yes Daddy..I-I..” Sniffling, you attempted to rub away at your continuous cries.  

“Hmm.. I’m still not sure you can.” He challenges further, and although you knew at this point he was just being cruel, your throat tightened in response. 

“N-No.. I-I am..!” You managed to argue out before more tears broke out into weeps.  

“Are what?” He shot back quickly, unphased by the desperate sight. 

You inhaled as much as you could to calm your chest.  “I-I.. can be.. good..I-I swear… I a-am good.” You struggled to rasp out through your hiccuped cries. Gaping, you peered into where his gaze would be, seeking any emotion, any form of approval. As expected you received nothing.

“Hmm..” Still, he seemed unamused. His knife trailed at your chest lightly. This choked out more sobs, not because you were afraid he was going to jab the blade in, but fearful that he would leave you in this cold forest once and for all.

You disobeyed your alpha, let another touch you, kiss you, nearly claim you, all because of your anger. Ghostface stepped back, head tilting slightly to observe the cut at your knee. Blood dripped down your leg, reaching your drenched red sock, covering your foot that looked more harmed than anything. 

“Fucking clumsy omega,” The masked man hissed, moving his arms to swiftly pull you over his back with little to no struggle. Your stomach pushed against his shoulder, and you muffled a whimper when his hand grabbed at your ass.

Ghostface began to walk, and you didn’t know where he was taking you, but you were terrified. You hiccuped into him as you tried to breathe through your stuffy nose, and nothing in you tried to struggle, instead, you were just clutching onto his cloak desperately, afraid the alpha was going to let go of you forever. 

The shock of your sore wounded body came into effect, and you began to hiss at the pain of the deep cut on your foot. Still, the anxiety of him leaving you stung more than any bit of pain could. Continuous snot and tears drenched the back of his cloak as your face pushed into him, begging and pleading. You didn’t know how long you were sobbing into him truthfully, but it seemed as if forever had passed.

A door opened and closed, and Ghostface tugged at your form, and your rear instantaneously hit against a mattress that sprung you back up. Your back hit against a wall with a light thud, and you whimpered when the man pulled the bloody sock away from your wounded foot.

You quickly realized that you were in the comfort of your room, and he had set you on your bed. Ghostface was peering at your cuts, seeing how there were small shards of what looked to be glass stuck in the wound. The masked man walked away for a moment, leaving you confused. Your panicked tears calmed down slightly once he came back with what looked to be a first aid kit taken from your medicine cabinet. 

How did he know where that was? 

The thought was pushed away when he grabbed a small pair of tweezers and moved it towards your knee. You instinctively moved away. “No!” You yelped, terribly afraid of how harsh the pain would be. The man exhaled a more patient yet still irritable sigh. He peered into your frightened orbs.

“If I don’t do this, you’re going to be in a lot more pain soon,” the man reasoned dangerously. It almost sounded like a threat, but the omega within you trusted your alpha with your life, and you hesitantly nodded, relaxing. 

“Good girl,” he eased, and your stammering heart fluttered, Blinking down at his form, your tears quieted for a moment as he had moved the object to your knee. 

Did he mean that..? 

You sniffed and wiped away at your wet cheeks, a newfound hope deep within your heart. 

It didn’t last for long as you felt a sharp digging inside your skin, and you groaned out loud in recoil. The metal object moved inside your bloody cut as if it was searching for anything in particular. A warm liquid rushed down your leg and although you were attempting to hide your uttering squeals, a loud cry escaped when a shard of glass cut deeper into your skin. 

The instant relief that followed after once he grabbed and took it out, was enough for you to ease. The pain began promptly again when he repeated the action to scan for other shards. When nothing was found, he moved to your numb-like foot. You didn’t feel as much there as you should’ve. You began to softly whine to yourself, easing into a ball of helpless cries. 

The anesthetic that he rubbed on you afterward was cold, soothing, and not as harsh as you expected. He did it well as if he’d done such a thing a thousand times over. The man wrapped bandages around your wounded areas, and he did this so expertly that your eventually blurred calmer orbs began gazing over him, your heart blooming at the idea of your alpha taking care of you so well. 

When he was about done tying up the last bit of the bandages, he glimpsed up at you, then moved to stand tall. You had forgotten how much taller he was than you, and because of your sitting form, you raised your head to look up at him. His fingers moved to your lips, rubbing at your skin, erupting a shaky hitched breath from your teary self. 

Ghostface continued rubbing his thumb against you. The urge to suck at him was impossible to ignore when he had teasingly entered only slightly, just to take it away and repeat. Your breaths were struggling to keep up with his fingers, and you didn’t realize that your tongue was desperately attempting to drag against him. Tears were still gently pouring down your eyes, and yet your need desired so plainly to taste the sweet tangy leather. 

“Such a filthy little slut.” Ghostface declared a matter of factly, dipping his thumb over your tongue, this time keeping it there. 

With a pout, you calmly pressed your tongue and moved at his still thumb. You horrendously cringed, shivering with disgust. A terrible metal-like tasting liquid dripped against your tongue. You knew it wasn’t just your blood, and the thought made you revolt.

Continuous tears spilled from your eyes at the thought of such a horrid thing. You felt sickened for what was on him. Yet.. the instinctual need to keep sucking on it, made your pussy tingle with excitement. Remaining silent, he observed as you sucked up his thumb greedily with both disgust and need flashing across your face. A chuckle was heard, and you gazed up at him, orbs blackened.

He dipped his other bloody fingers in. You gave out an inevitable moan of disgust. Nonetheless, once it settled over your tongue, you began to hum softly, licking around the shape of his fingers quickly.

The silence remained, and eventually, your continuous lapping slowed. The stammering in your chest calmed significantly, and the tears drifting out had paused, leaving only your wet flushed cheeks. Your focus only shifted to the filthy yet somehow delicious taste of the leather over your alphas fingers, leaving your panicked state soon, hushed and needy.

This was disgusting.. so terribly wrong… yet so frighteningly good 

Your pussy tightened at the impulsive imagination of loving sex with your alpha. His unmoving gaze was strong, and his breaths were darker. Moaning softly, you continued to suck and lick at his now clean-covered fingers.

You ogled up at him, desperate (e/c) spheres, hoping with such a needy gaze that he could see you were begging for him to fuck you through your arousal, and to continue even after. A growl burned in his throat, and with this, his fingers swiftly pulled away from your desperate tongue. You whimpered at the removal.

“Take off your dress,” he demanded with ice, concluding a swift end to your whines. 

“Now.” It was such a tone that you feared the outcome too, and that was all it took before you nodded. Sheepishly your form stood up with a small hiss of lingering pain over your foot and knee. It was bearable and not nearly as harsh as you had recalled a moment ago. Hands clutching at your bloody spotted dress, you slowly flipped it over your form, and threw it at the ground. Timidly your legs crossed, your pretty pink bra and drenched panties within clear sight.

Ghostface’s fingers trailed at the fabric over your breasts and you exhaled a hitched shaky breath. His knee moved in between your legs, forcefully separating them. You submitted effortlessly and he angled his mask to your wet thighs, your thin panties nearly displaying the throbbing pussy beneath it. 

“And to think that asshole was trying to get all of this for himself,” there was a dark chuckle that left him, genuine amusement in his silky voice. Fingers moved at your chin, and he gently moved your features to his level, your shy dilated orbs gawking into where you assumed his would be.

“I fucking own you.. got that?” He spoke lowly, irritated, fingers moving to your lips once more. Your legs attempted to cross at the throbbing arousal, and you quivered at the thought. Bowing your head in agreement, he moved to your ear, whispering so darkly that chills ran down your spine. 

“Next time I won’t hesitate to punish my little omega.” The pout was evident and he darkly laughed. “But.. if you're a good girl then there won’t be a next time. Right?” You shook your head in response.  

“Say it.” 

“N-No Daddy… there won’t be a next time..” You whispered sweetly, voice still evidently cracking and stuttering from your previous sobs. Your focus was glued to his mask, and he hummed in approval, his blade suddenly snapping at your bra. It fell in pieces to the floor, and you instinctively attempted to cover your shy breasts.

Hand moving towards your arms, he pushed them away effortlessly, fingers moving at your tender nipples. You hissed out, moaning through your teeth as he wrapped his hand around, and gave a swift tight squeeze. A surge of arousal rushed down to your heat, and a loud moan poured from your lips like honey.

The same blade flicked at your panties, and you instinctively pouted at the thought of the set you had bought now going into the trash. The fabric slipped down your legs, your wet sex throbbed in response, and you could feel the man giving you a hungry ogling. 

“I should make you suck my cock after all that. My little omega doesn’t deserve anymore.” You instinctively moaned at the threat, the idea of his cock deep in your throat struck such elation. Chuckling darkly, his fingers graced your gaping lips, moving towards your tongue.

“You’d still love that wouldn’t you?” Without hesitation you moaned in approval, tongue circling his leather glove. 

The masked killer hummed, “Of course, you would, such a slutty girl.” Saying nothing, you continued to stare up at him, neither denying nor confirming. 

“I’ve been enjoying seeing you walk around in those cute little panties of yours every day.” Gasping not in disbelief of him stalking you, but as to why he never visited, you moved to speak and he cut you off, moving impossibly close to your ear.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you raw for a long time now… and to see this little shit get so close to you, makes me want to ram you against the wall and pound your insides until you’re begging me to stop.“ Moving away from your quivering figure that was cherishing the idea, he gave you a condescending pat on your cheek.

“But, I’m not going to do that-“ your body slumped and your lips opened in a saddened retort. “I’m not going to fill up your pussy with every bit of cum I have inside of me… I know my sweet omega would love that too much..”

“But that’s not-!” The man’s gloved finger hovered over your lips, warning you to be swiftly quieted. A quick pout befell. 

“If my omega continues to be good again, then I’ll fuck her senseless. But for now.. that’s not the case.. is it?” Ghostface’s tone was ridiculing, and surely a smug mean smile was painted on his lips. Orbs dropping in disappointment, tears prickled at your eyes, lips pursing. 

“Is it? Omega?” 

“No..” your sad small voice whispered out, a tear trailing down. 

“Good girl..” He purred, trailing his voice wickedly, allowing your heart to flutter only slightly. To say you weren’t good, then to call you such right after was cruel.

His leather fingers trailed downwards, moving slowly towards your aching pussy. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes trailing at the man’s empty sockets. He watched your needy expressions, your anticipation dripping in your sex impatiently. 

Ghostface dipped his masked fingers into your folds, softly.. slowly..  toying with your wetness. A shy moan escaped, and your face moved swiftly towards his neck. Your hands wrapped around, and you couldn’t help but wiggle your hips longingly into his fingers. All rational sense of questioning had vanished as you had begun melting into his hands.

His slight simple touches caused your desperate sex to clench around nothing, as he continuously dipped his fingers only slightly in, to quickly take them out. Erratically, moaning into his neck, your tongue graced over the fabric. The man took the time to inhale, and with this, he exhaled a delicious-sounding grunt. The smell of yours colliding with his, only caused his stiff dick to twitch more. Feeling this, you bit at your lip, a past statement of his echoing in your head. 

You moved away from him, and you could feel the confusion through the black holes of his mask. Knees touching the floor, you met his eyes with black wide pupils. Everything in you desired to make your alpha happy with you again, if he wasn’t, you just wouldn’t know what to do with yourself.

Your pleading fixation made it clear you desired this probably more than he did, you wanted to make him happy, you needed for him to groan as he stretched your mouth wide with his cock. Knowing what you wanted, he stayed silent, as if contemplating through the innocent arousal you were giving him. 

"Please Daddy.. I'll be good again, please.. let me, please… I’ll…” Pausing, your tongue nearly slobbered at his shaft poking at the leather of his pants, twitching at your sight. Ghostface hummed for a moment, then exhaled a gruff approval.

“Fine. I’ll allow it. Show me I can trust my little whore again.”

You were furiously nodding before he even finished his words. Hands moving to his pants, his cock sprung out as if trapped, and your astonished ogling stuck like glue. Swiftly your hands graced his knees, more than ready. A tug pulled you forcefully back, his hand at your hair shoving you away. Arching, you met his masked features with a pout. 

"If I see you touching yourself one bit I’ll make sure you can’t sit straight for the whole fucking week, kay?” You nodded swiftly, impatient, truthfully unable to hear him through your arousal. You were quick to proceed the moment his grip lessened. He tightened it again and pulled back, and you grumbled instinctively, annoyed. 

“Watch it, you should be grateful I’m letting you even suck my cock after the shit you pulled.” His tone was still irritated and a saddened frown fell.

Nodding quietly, his grip lessened increasingly so, and you took this moment to finally, and so happily meet his thick arousal. God, he was tasty looking, and his dick was so large you could cum alone just by imagining it fully inside you. Your tongue licked at the vein prodding from the skin and the taste of him caused a pleased rumbling in your chest. Tongue licking hastily at the aroused member, you happily took him into your mouth. With his breathy grunt, your hips wiggled, excited, and you moved closer. 

You moaned deep into him, and his leather-covered fingertips tightened at your scalp. The arousal gave you a continuous drip of wetness from your heat that was craving to be touched. Desperately desiring to not displease him further, you forced your painfully needy fingers away from your sex and took it as an excuse to wrap them around his throbbing cock. You let them roam eagerly, and your tongue swirled around his tip.

The shape was entrancing, and your tongue studied it in sure detail. His heavy breaths were getting louder and this encouraged you once more to take him as deep as you probably could. You bobbed back and forth at a decent pace, allowing yourself to get into it as much as your limits could take you. The taste of him you could get more than used to. 

Staring at him, a blush scattered across your face. Meeting his gaze whilst doing such a dirty action felt so vulgar.. yet the desire of pleasing your alpha in such a way made happiness bloom in your cunt.

Ghostface was unreadable with his mask on, but the lustful scent seeped through any sort of cover he had. Your gag reflex increased as his cock began to prod at your throat. You moved to pull away for a needed break, yet when you were just about to fully remove his cock from your mouth, his fingers placed on your scalp moved down and balled your hair into a tight fist. Suddenly he jolted your head forward and his cock hit the back of your throat. Your mouth took him wholly and despite your struggle, he breathed so beautifully that your body couldn’t help but wiggle in response. 

“Fuck doll-“You swirled your tongue around his cock as much as you could with such a size, and his heavy exhales shifted into a sharp hiss when you sucked at a sensitive vein. Your eyes gazed deeply into the mask’s eye holes, your tongue desperately working at him.

He pulled his head back with a grumble, his fingers applying even more pressure to yours. Eventually, it was like something in him snapped, and Ghostface impatiently shoved your mouth almost completely down his cock, and your throat instinctively attempted to expel him. Promptly, your head was pulled back, and before you could even take a breath, it was diving forward onto his needy cock.

 His breaths were short and staggering, deep and heavy, mixing in with only a few hardly audible grunts of approval. He was mercilessly bobbing your head back and forth, and you were moaning desperately, your hands tightening hopelessly at his legs as he fucked you furiously. Your tongue was attempting to make movements around him, but it was beyond difficult when he plunged your head down even further. His hand occupied your head firmly, and your throat was being taken so well that you could feel your angry cunt surge in jealousy at the lack of attention. 

One hand slowly began to snake down, you hoped not too obviously as he was surely too focused on fucking you at a furious pace. The sloppy pattern was beginning to make it hard for you to breathe. His cock was repeatedly jabbing at your throat, and when he pulled your head away for a slight second, you gave him a pleading gasp, begging for him to slow down.

Nothing changed, and you whined at the pace. A groan of pleasure erupted. “Fuck... your mouth... is perfect.. for me princess.." He was grunting increasingly through his heaves, and you peered at him complacently, eyelids widening at the burning, at the gnaw in your jaw, and the gag in your throat. 

Your fingers moved to the pool of your streaming arousal that dripped down your inner thighs. Despite the intensity, you could cum swiftly from him taking your throat in such a way… Your needy pussy throbbed when he sucked in a breath and shoved you down even harsher than before.

Sneaking into your drenched panties, you slowly moved around your clit, reacting with a sudden moan at the instantaneous pleasure. Promptly your head was pulled back, his fingers tightening in such a way that you were sure he could break you. Regardless you finally took this moment to pant and cough out as much as you could. 

"What did I fucking say?" Voice angry, he exhaled roughly, and you could tell he was just at the brink of climax and you ruined it. Swiftly your fingers pulled away, and you glanced at him with wide eyes, ashamed. Opening your mouth to defend, he rammed his cock into your mouth completely, and before he even gave you a chance to adjust, he pulled back.

"You... don’t.. fucking..” His words were emphasized by a repeated punctuated thrust back into your throat and then out. “..listen... do you.. omega?" Ghostface was now tugging you forward onto his shaft as swiftly as you thought possible. The man’s breaths were speeding up, irritated, yet so on the verge of cumming. 

Instantaneously, he jolted to an abrupt stop and he jerks your lips to circle the end of his cock. His balled-up strong fist held you there so tightly, you felt an impossibly warm stream of cum forcefully spew down your throat. You coughed into him, not expecting such a deep climax.

Attempting to poorly to be patient with your breaths, he held you there with a iron grip, hoping he might just let you go any second now. Yet with every passing second, you were struggling to take a singular inhale of air. The burn in your throat was becoming unbearable, and you moved, or at least attempted to. He balled his fist tighter around your hair with a sharper impatience.

The black dots in your vision were getting harder and harder to ignore, and the gagging in your throat didn't stop. You looked at him, pleading, a terrible aching in your jaw, and the stress in your unblinking eyes causing a stream of tears to pour down your cheeks. The man was breathing jagged and heavy, and his cock surely twitched at the sight of your struggle.

He pulled you away within a second, and in that second, you inhaled as much air as you could. You were panting out like an unflattering dog as small amounts of his cum drooled from your tongue. 

"Swallow it." His tone was sharp, and he was just about at his last hair of patience at the idea of you disobeying him one more time.

A genuine fear swelled, and you shrunk at hearing his tone. Lowering your head, you swiftly caught the escaping stream in your hand. Slobbering widely at your palm, you made sure every bit of his release would find its way back to where it belonged. The taste of his cum made your pussy burn in enjoyment. God, how badly you wanted to be fucked. 

The frightening glare lessened at your show, but it did nothing to aid in his anger towards you yet again. When you finished your head bowed to the floor, heartbroken, terrified, and aroused. Ghostface suddenly stepped away from you, and you jolted to observe his every action.  "On your stomach,” he sat at your bed, his hand on his lap, signifying where.

Hesitating so clearly, he tilted his head in a way that gave you cold shivers. You pressed your breasts nervously against the soft blankets, your stomach over his knees. Apprehensive of what the alpha was going to do, you secretly hoped for a claim or a large knot. Frankly, you knew that wasn’t going to be the case. 

"Since you don't know how to listen and follow simple fucking commands.. you're going to count. Anytime you don't count, lose track, or say the wrong number, I’ll double it.. on second thought, I’ll triple it.”

You were confused, but still, you apprehensively nodded.

His leather hand touched your bare ass, trailing down the shape. Regardless of the glove over his skin, it gave you a fire that ignited in your cunt once more. A powerful spank into your right cheek caused you to suddenly jolt forward, yelping out at the unexpected pain. His hand swapped to land a blow even harder at your left, and still unaware of the situation, you yelped, teeth-gritting naturally from the pain.

You hoped this was just a quick punishment.  

"I don't hear you counting princess." His iced voice broke you out of your daze as if somehow threatening that it could get worse.

"T-Two.." Stammering cautiously, the fear that it was going to be incorrectly quickened your pace.

You didn’t know why you even expected him to give you a break already, or at least a further explanation. It wasn’t too long after before his palm met your ass cheek like the crack of a whip. Nails curled into the sheets, the fabric piled into your hands desperately, and for some reason, you were still whimpering hopelessly like a bitch in heat. You wanted so clearly to beg, to cry, but you couldn’t focus on your thoughts and counting all at once.

"Th-Three.." WHAM. 

That one felt like hot metal searing into your skin. Although in the moment you felt your head whirl, and it was all happening only a second after another, you were sure they were becoming increasingly powerful. Your behind must've already been a purplish red, and the relentless tingle emphasized that.

“Four." Tears stung at your eyes, and your throat made a choked whine when you received the fifth blow at your cheek, or was it six?  The numbers arrived so quickly and you were beginning to lose track of the way his hand met so brutally with your rear. Back and forth, back and forth, it was too fast and your head swirled confusedly. 

"S-Seven...?" 

"That was six." It was quiet only for a moment, and your fear increased horrifically. Nothing would have readied you for the way he in response to your blatant mistake, increased his strength tenfold in each promised tripled blow. The worst part was, he didn’t even switch between your left and right. He pauses, then starts again.

You couldn’t focus outside the stinging, and you wiggled in his grip, desiring to escape.

“Now it was seven." From that, he repeated the action, and you attempted to push your head deep into the sheets, imagining a place where this wasn’t happening, and your alpha was just a sweet man. The echo of the next slap rang into the room, and you wailed at the spreading pain.

Tears finally grazed your cheeks, and your mind at this point could only focus on the burn exponentially doubling with each slap.  Knuckles turning white from clenching, you again attempted to move to ease the blatant discomfort. His fingers then sunk so harshly into your back that surely it left a mark, and the next blow doubled in strength. 

“Move one more fucking time and you’re going to be counting to the hundreds.” You sniffled at his cruel words and limped into his hands, struggling to not resist and flail against them. There was a cruel rhythm to the blows, and you counted in your head. Maybe if you focused solely on the numbers then all the pain would disappear.

12…13…14…fuck..15? No.. 16… Fuzziness swirled, and although you were counting, you were beginning to lose track again. The stinging in each cheek brought you to reality, and the burn could only ease for what felt like half a second before he would smack at your opposing side.

“E-Eighteen…” At this point, you were heaving broken sobs that cracked from your throat.

He sang a sadistic happy, “Seventeen." He was apathetic and usually unreadable, but right now, a side of him was enjoying this so terribly. Biting at your lips hard, you braced for what was to come.

He tripled the spanks, and you were crying, quaking so helplessly that you would’ve maybe thought he’d give you mercy. “P-Please.. I can't... alpha it hurts..i-it hurts so bad..” Body quivering, you fisted your sheets, sniffling out unflattering sobs. 

"Whose fault is this?" Ghostface spoke sarcastically, chuckling evilly. You hiccuped a sob, a tear in your heart at his words. The disappointment and anger from your alpha made you intensely ashamed. The crack from his palm, the stinging at your skin, the uttered shameful forced spoken numbers on your behalf, did nothing to aid your emotions.

Maybe it was your submission, your tears, or your broken pleads that rung out, stammering “alpha.. alpha.. a-alpha, please,” that had him pause for just a moment longer than what you were used to. It was only a sweet few seconds of bliss before the blow at your left cheek ignited a swift remembrance of every number that you had to count. 

"If you just fucking listened like a good omega, this would've been over by now." His tone was as usual, cruel. Surely something in him, the alpha harming his omega, did care, maybe if you could just catch it.. just a little bit then he’d stop. There was only so much you could do.

His hand struck you, forcing you out of such an imagination, vaguely uncaring that your skin was a hopelessly swelled red. Sobbing, you truly tried your hardest to keep track of every sting through the dizziness.

“Tw-Twentry three..” The crack of your unflattering voice yelped at its ending when he used his raw strength to let you know how wrong you were. Tensing at the apprehensive wait of another slap right after, it eased quickly, a welcomed pause showing you were indeed correct. He only allowed ever one breath of relief to fall, and even then it was just barely before he would give such a fate. 

“Twenty-six…” By this number, you were sure it would've concluded, you were sure that it was now beginning to get too high to be thought of as a normal punishment. Another strike proved this very wrong, and you yelped, fear coursing through you.

“Please.. no more alpha.. please.. I-I’m sorry… I-I promise… I-I promise I’ll listen.. p-please stop... The pain in your rear was becoming so unbearable you couldn’t care less about how pathetic your pleading was becoming.

“Oh? Now you’ll listen? It only took 30+ spanks.” Ghostface enjoyed this all too well, you were sure he did. He paused for a moment. Not out of mercy, only to watch closely as you whined into the sheets, body quivering through the throbbing heat. Where exactly? You didn’t quite know. 

“Tell you what bratty girl. If you can get to 35 without messing up once, I’ll stop for tonight.” For tonight? Your heart raced at the implication, but you couldn’t think much about it before a crack of his palm hit your ass, and you screamed out “T-twenty-eight!” As apprehensively as possible. You were focusing so hard on each spank, teeth nibbling at your cheeks so much that you only slightly drowned out the terrible pain. The excitement of its closure only drew you in further. 

31… 32….  You were getting terribly anxious. 33…. It was so close, almost there. 34… “Thirty-five!” You nearly screamed out, expecting it to finally all be over.

“Ah ah ah- 34. Not 35.” Perking your head up, you swiftly rotated to him as much as you possibly could, tears brimming in your eyes.

“What?! No-No no no, I.. I.. please.. a-alpha.. please,” the sobs threatened to escape at the thought of starting all over, fear chilling your body. You were sure you counted correctly, this… this couldn’t be possible. You couldn’t go through god knows how many more.

You could see his empty eye sockets, his emotionless mask turning to you, and it felt like a pin could audibly drop in the silence before you heard him laugh hard, meaner than ever. It lasted too long, to the point where you confusedly sputtered a “what..?” 

“Look at you, so hopeless and innocent, so scared. I’m sure it hurt your little brain to think that hard on counting, didn’t it?” He patted at your ass playfully. This ignited a burn and you jutted against him with a hiss, a sizzling heat between your legs. Did this mean you weren’t going to receive extra punishment?

“I-I.. don’t get it..” You admitted, and he laughed.

“Of course you don’t. I just wanted to see your cute little reaction.” Your soft surprised “oh” didn’t last for very long as he began to rub your ass cheeks so gently, it almost scared you how quickly his gestures could go from cruel to sweet in just a few seconds.

The soft caressing did ignite a fresh pain now and then, and there were still past tears stained on your face, your eyes blown out fearfully. Still, the pussy beneath the red of your cheeks throbbed so. It hurt, it hurt so badly, but there was something within you that wanted him so bad you could die.

He rubbed at your rear in such a way that made you tremble. It ignited a comfort in the painful ache, and you heaved out shaky breaths. Whimpering, some part of you was unsure as to why you were even calling out to him after such a scene, but god you wanted your alpha so bad.

The tenderness muffled into soft spikes of discomfort, and with his glove touching it so nicely, the searing dimmed out rather quickly, the throbbing of your aroused cunt almost subduing it forcefully. You moaned, writhing against his hand that teasingly brushed over your sex. “A-Alpha..”

"Hm?" He played dumb.

You felt truthfully happy he didn’t see how embarrassingly you were jutting against his hand, begging for friction. Meanwhile in reality he was biting back another mean laugh.

Ghostface’s action ceased completely, and you pouted, the omega within you about to scream out for his knot. His hand met with your ass abruptly and you squeaked, pushing against him.

“Ow! A-Alp- ooh… alpha..” moans of pain turned lovingly as his two fingers dug deep into your cunt.

“Surprise, my little whore all wet for me after I spanked her senseless.” Circling your hips, he curled his fingers and you screamed, begging aimlessly when he began to spear you repeatedly. The wetness spilled over his thigh, and he cussed out. “Shit omega. You’re going to make me want to fuck this pussy of yours if you keep dripping on me like this.”

You nodded as swiftly as you could. “Yes-yes do that, please.. alpha- please-“ he spanked your ass and you yelped, quieting with the bite of your lips.

“Shut up.” It wasn’t as ice cold as his words before, but regardless you whimpered at his sudden demand, and you quietly wiggled to the way his fingers rammed themselves up to a hilt in your aching sex.

You squeezed him tighter than ever, thinking of all the things he’d do to you, of how you might just sit on his face and grind your way to completion. Grunting in approval, he gave your pussy a soft slap, and you threw your head back, moaning loud. The climax was beginning to rise, you could feel it, you were so close, and you were riding, grinding on his fingers hard, gargled pleas falling from your lips. 

“Oh, Ghostface.. oh.. oh god.. ah- wait!” Crying out, his fingers left you completely the moment your quivering release began. The nerves settled sharply, so quickly that your throat nearly choked out a sob.

“And fuck, you taste delicious too,” he breathed out gruffly, and you rotated to him, hoping he had removed his mask. Nothing, just his licked clean fingers, and a blush burned at your cheeks. He gazed at your helpless quivering body, and it looked as if he was contemplating for a moment. 

“Fuck omega,” he spoke lowly, as if only to himself. As if he wasn’t at all planning on fucking you raw, but the powerful need in him was significantly growing at seeing your handprinted ass, and the way your tasty hole was clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. The dull ache in your rear that you were wiggling, caused a surge of slick to escape in slow streams from your sex, and fuck it looked so delicious, he could clean you up within a minute. 

“Face down, ass up. Don’t even think about looking.” Ghostface’s words came out more rushed, almost on the verge of madness, yet you didn’t question him, he’d just give you another brutal spanking If you disobeyed.

Springing up off his lap promptly, you snuck a look, excitement surging through you, your face pushing into the soft covers. Shutting your eyes tightly, your ass instinctively shimmied to his sight, more than ready for what might come. The position spread your throbbing wet pussy wide for a perfect view.

His leather fingers rubbed at your needy clit slowly, like he was just getting a feel for it. Shaking with whines, your deprived muffled moans absorbed into your sheets. Suddenly a warm tongue dragged up your cunt so slowly it nearly caused you to break your restraint. Hands tightening around your covers, you moaned out loud as his tongue ran up your wet thighs, drinking in every little bit of arousal you had.

The hot breaths against your sex had you shaking and yelping in desire. The thought of your alpha enjoying your taste, made you wiggle into him harder, and you wished more than anything you could grab his locks and sink him deeper. The pace instantly increased, and he began wildly lapping you up, his thumb shifting to rub swift circles around your clit. Two fingers pushed deep into your tightening hole again, and with this, you broke out into quivering moans. 

You strived to shout out to him desperately and urge him to continue, yet the barely holding of your self-restraint made it impossibly difficult. His fingers curled deep alongside his pace, and his tongue circled so amazingly well at your sex, It wasn’t too long before you gave into pleasure, and ripped your head from the sheets. Your eyelids scrunched tightly, afraid they might just burst open and disobey his rules.

The thumb that swirled at your clit stopped, and that hand met with your bruised ass. Jolting, a squeal left you, and his fingers shoved deep into your walls. The hold on your eyelids was about to break, and you were panting, desperate.

“Face down omega, don’t make me tell you again.” Ghostface cracked your red cheeks one more time, reinventing the forgotten pain.

Your head sunk begrudgingly into the comfort of your warm sheets, teeth biting at your lower lip in frustration. You could feel him smirk into you, a clear amusement in your desperate whining pleas. He knew you wouldn’t look, but oh did he love seeing you so torturously submit.

The sexiest breathy chuckle vibrated at your aching hole, and you shivered, fingers digging into the sheets to not rip yourself away again. The coiling climax surrounding your pussy had you tightening hard around him, his tongue circling your clit. This had you going crazy, and you couldn’t help but move your head just a little. 

“I-I’m.. A-Alpha“

Scissoring, his fingers started scissoring inside you, and you convulsed, just about to lose your restraint, the coiling getting stronger and stronger. He was relishing in your flavor, his greedy tongue lapping deeper into your sex. He purred into you.

That broke you, and your orgasm quickly sped up to the way his fingers were pulsing deep in your fluttering walls, thrusting, scissoring so deep you screamed. 

“That’s it, babygirl, fucking break for me.” Nails nearly ripping at your thin bed cover, you pushed only your chin out, moaning so loudly you couldn’t even hear the way he was laughing at you, but you sure as hell felt it. 

It almost wasn’t possible how far he could go, and he stopped at an absolute hilt inside of you, his knuckles surely deep into your cunt. His tongue greedily worked at your high.

Trembling, the climax started settling, and your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head as he continued the quick movements of his tongue. You jutted into him, body so tensed from the quivering release, that it felt like you couldn’t even move anymore. You limped weakly, only softly grinding into his torture. Tears threatened your orbs, and you came so hard, the sensitivity of your nerves made it so that you were shaking into him, desperate to pause.

“D-Daddy.. t-too much… c-cant” He opened his fingers wide, making you scream out again, a slight pain beside it. Too overstimulated, it was too much, and you could hardly think.

His fingers suddenly thrust into you so fast your desperate cunt quivered, a second climax started rushing in too quickly, You screamed, unable to ready yourself for such a painful yet sweet release. Grinding against him hard, he lapped it up like it was his last meal, and he pulled your ass deeper into him, your legs weakly shaking.  

He didn’t stop, and at this point your head dropped, fingers weightless at the loss of strength. You were twitching, and your cunt cried out as he ate up every little stream of cum that dripped. Whispers left your lips, his name at the tip of your tongue, jumbled gargles making their way out. Your leg moved to push your body away to sway him from his further abuse.

He growled deep, sending a jolt up your spine. Fingers tightened at your burning ass, and you were whining in pain, his tongue circling you so quickly it felt like it would never end. 

Low growls were coming from his throat, and nothing encouraged him to pause for your exhaustion. You were still moaning out hopelessly, your slumped form only upright because of his firm hands.

Eventually, his fingers slowly pulled away from your cunt that was still attempting so dearly to suck him in. The sound was obscene, vulgar, and he gave a few slaps to your cunt. You whimpered, jumping from each. One last lick was given to your trembling clit, and he unexpectedly spanked your right ass again.

Desperate pleas were falling from your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks. Ghostface breathed out a chuckle, his hand now gently rubbing up and down your numb pussy.  

“What a good fucking omega, so delicious and all for me.” His hand pat at your ass, and you hissed at the way it seared. Butterflies flew in your stomach, your heart skipping a beat. Happiness still enveloped you through your exhaustion, happy that he enjoyed you so well, and that he was proud of you.

The idea of his features sent excitement through you, but you didn’t look even if you wanted nothing more.

Your alpha was finally happy with you.

A soft whispered moan escaped, the thought of this sending you to a sweet sleep while he continued rubbing your pussy so well.

Before you passed out, you could faintly hear him snickering before three fingers entered your exhausted walls. 

[notthecutesttrash]

Vanilla Ice Cream

Content: Sierra Six is your newly appointed bodyguard. You only want to make his life a living hell so he can leave. That is until unfortunate circumstances make you feel closer to him, and eventually like his company.

Warnings: Lil bit of angst, reader's a brat, fluff, inebriation, blood, vomiting, language, death

Word count: 6.8k

When you saw him, all you could think was how it was just another pointless bodyguard who might fail to do their job. Apparently, you were notorious for being a spoiled brat, as your father so explained, and no one else wanted to work with you because of it. Your lips twitch in irritation at the thought. You? Spoiled? Please. 

“I don’t need a bodyguard! It’s not even a bodyguard anyways, it’s a babysitter! I’m so tired of being watched every day! Can’t I have some goddamn privacy?! I’m like 25!” You yell out to your father who is as usual, too busy calmly packing things into his neatly confined suitcase. 

“Enough (Y/n), you’re going to have a bodyguard because you can’t seem to sit still for once.” 

“Oh, maybe because, again, I’m 25 DAD! I’m so sorry for wanting to go out and have fun!”

“I have a target on my head, your mother has a target on her head, therefore YOU have a target on your head. What do you not understand?” You’ve heard this quote a million times at this point so you just wave it off.  

“Yeah, and? That target has gotten us nowhere but money spent on these so-called body guards and given us senseless paranoia. Nothing has ever happened, and nothing will. Just relax already.” Maybe you knew you were being selfish, but you didn’t care, it was true.

“I am going to be gone for not just a day, not just 2, not even a full week, but almost 2 months.” He emphasizes. “I need the best security there is for you, do you understand? Someone is bound to try something.” He gives you a finished expression and then glimpses to the maid. “Margaret open the gates for Sierra six.” Your father says. She nods and briskly walks off. 

You roll your eyes and huff, “dad!” 

“He’ll be here any minute now. Introduce yourself, be nice, and we will see you in 2 months.” You open your mouth to speak and he holds up a finger. 

“Don’t give this poor man any trouble than he needs, or at least enough that I have to hear about it. I don’t need yet another bodyguard that refuses to work with us because of you.” Your father rubs his fingers at the bridge of his nose to display his exhaustion. 

“What do you mean because of me?” You cross your arms and huff, “I don’t do anything to any of them.”

“Don’t play coy.” 

You shake your head, “i’m not.” You kind of were. Just kind of. 

“You are. Don’t act like every guard so far hasn’t wanted to reverse the contract and shoot you themselves.” You cross your legs and turn your head. 

“They start it.” That was also most definitely not true. 

A brooding man makes himself known at the doorway. A tall figure, blue grayish eyes, sandy dark blonde locks, and somehow a face and demeanor that could make a mother proud. 

“Another fit pretty face.” Was the first thing you say and your father instantly gives you a look that says don’t. 

Pursing your lips, you hum begrudgingly and step in front of the man. “My name is (Y/n), nice to meet you.” A clear fake smile burns into your features, and you stretch your hand out. Sierra Six doesn’t say anything, he remains stoic and silent. He then places his hand into your own and firmly shakes it. His hand felt warm and rough like he was born fighting every day, and you made a note to remember that. 

“Have a safe trip Dad!” You speak with honey, tiptoeing on your pretty little expensive slippers. Planting a kiss on his cheek, you give a side eye to six. A sadistic joy twitches into the edge of your lip, and you give him one last look before he turns to his side to let you pass through the doorway. 

Fitz told him it was going to be a trip, and he believed it. For the past few days all you were trying to do was tick him, to break him, to over-exaggerate every little opinion you had, to make sure he’d want to get up and leave himself. 

“I despise ketchup with my fries, why can’t we just have some alternative, what do you think Mr. Sierra six?” You would complain about one moment. Then the next moment you went on about how chocolate was better than vanilla, about how winter sucks because you can’t use your lavish pool, why red is better than yellow, why Pepsi tastes better than coca cola, and so on. 

 “So what’s your real name mr. six?” you ask him, your legs crossed over one another as you sat by him. His fingers were expertly working at the computer ahead of him, and he only gives you a split second of a look. “Nothing?” You inch closer, your red heels dangling near his legs. 

“Why are all you guards so boring? Hm? It’s been like 3 days and you can’t say more than 2 words.” Throwing your head back, you groan out loud. Finally, you thought of an idea, and you glance back at him, grinning.  

“Well then you wouldn’t mind if I invited my friend over would you?” A giggle escapes. “No. Of course not.” Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts and grin. 

“You’re not supposed to have anyone over.” Finally, Mr. Special Sierra Six speaks. You wave your phone and laugh. 

“It’s just one friend pretty boy, come on now, don’t be shy. She won’t give you as much as a bite… though.. she might try to get into your pants.” Snickering to yourself, he gives you that same blank stare. You click on your friend Cacie, and she answers the phone just as fast. Smiling wide, you’re already pulling it to your ear and telling her to come over. 

“There’s a little special surprise for you. This one is good this time.” 

“Can’t wait~” she says with that little mischievous snicker at the end of her words. She hangs up and you know she’s already on her way. 

“Hey pretty boy, do you like wine? Wait don’t answer that. You strike me as a.. on the rocks type of guy. Let me guess.. bourbon? Scotch?” Six doesn’t respond, and you tap at your chin. “Whiskey!” Six gives you a glimpse, and you know you got it. 

“Let me guess, “I can’t drink on the job,” you mimic him, “just one little glass wouldn’t hurt.” Already pouring the whiskey into the glass, you shoot him a side look. He’s still working at his computer, and at this point a guard might be sighing, rolling their eyes, or shaking their head. But he’s quite diligent. It was impressive. 

You set the glass in front of him, and he doesn’t even eye you. “Just a sip for me, pretty please?” You give him the sweetest orbs you could muster, but it wasn’t very good knowing you. Eventually he gives you a look, and this time it stays. You couldn’t know what he was thinking with his expression at all. “Come on, please? I won’t bother you at all after this.” You tilt your head, and your eyes glimmer a certain sadism that screams out your lies.

“I’m good.” Sierra six speaks, turning back to his screen, and you create a fake pout. 

“That’s no fun.” You take the glass you poured him and take a sip. Your gaze lingers on him. He knows you’re staring, you know he knows you’re staring, but you still do it. The nails of yours tap onto the glass one finger at a time, and you rest your free hand at your cheek. Still stuck in your peering, you don’t realize the doorbell rings. 

“You should probably get that.” Six states, and you smile sarcastically. You should’ve made him get up and do it himself for that smugness. 

A swift smirk dawns on you when Cacies pretty face is revealed. Her red lips are stunning, and her blonde coils are wrapped up. She wears her velvet red slim-fit dress, and you know she always wore this one to seduce the prettiest of guards. “Cacie dear, meet Sierra Six.” Cacie walks up to him right away, a burning intrigue in her light blue orbs.

“You are quite the pretty one, aren’t you? Older, though. You could probably be my dad… but lucky for you, I like that.” She sways her hips to the side and giggles. There is a little flicker of annoyance inside of you that you push down. Six glances up and says nothing, he doesn’t even give a reaction, no visible sigh, no rude comment, not even a linger over her body to show he secretly enjoyed it. Cacie was more than intrigued by that though, and you knew she was 100% willing to break him by the night’s end. 

Cacie turns her back to six, and she unclips her hair and rolls her head slowly, pulling her fingers to her scalp to massage out the little bumps while her hair rolls evenly at the end of her back. Cacie pulls out her phone and loud music begins to blare out. Six doesn’t flinch, but he exhales a barely noticeable sigh that finally showed irritation. It was subtle, but you knew. You take a sip of the whiskey and giggle. Cacie breaks out into a little dance, and Sierra Six closes his laptop and gets up.

It was getting late so he carries his little flashlight and shines at the glass windows to make sure no intruder was around the corners. You roll a lighter in your hands and flick at it, igniting a small fire that you raise to your cigarette. Taking a deep inhale, you blow a trail of smoke in front of you and stand. 

“Dance with me (Y/n), you know you love this song!” Cacie shouts, moving her hand into the curves of her ass. Your gaze lingers over to your bodyguard and you flick your cigarette to the floor. You take another swig of whiskey, and Cacie turns to you with a bottle of champagne in her hands. A big grin stretches her lips and yours do the same. You break out into laughter and she mimics, pouring a generous amount into your glass. She was more of a wine girl, so she’d always have her little special bottle that she’d love to get from some handsome cashier to share a long sip with you. You place your glass down and begin to move your body with the music. 

“You’re free to join too,” Cacie throws a wink at six, and he gives a glimpse before getting back to work. 

Throughout the night Cacie sends every little flirt, any little comment, even a flash of her tits to six, and alas no response. You on the other hand couldn’t care less and once Cacie leans down all drunken to six and tries to touch him, he finally speaks. “Don’t touch.” You take this moment to finally pause the music. Falling to the couch with a sigh, you unbuckle your painful high heels and chuck them off to the side. Your stomach felt like it was violently churning. 

“Why? Afraid I’ll mess up your work? Get you fired?” Cacie chuckles, turning to you. 

“I don’t understand this guy. He’s more boring than watching paint dry.” She grumbles. Huffing, you lean back to the couch and clutch your stomach. There’s a swirling that rushes to your throat, and you bite back the nausea.

“I really don’t care Cacie, just stop bothering him,” you mumble off, unsure if you were even inteligible at this point. You pull your hair out of its restrictive tie and let the locks fall into your face. The headache that was beginning to brew pounds into your ears. Lines of haziness muddle together fast. 

“What is wrong with you?” Cacie gives you a look of disgust as if it was just blasphemous what you uttered. You mumble into the leather, dragging your tired face into it. Your head lulls to the side, everything was too heavy. 

“Are you okay?” Six asks from his position, his head turned over his shoulder, brows furrowed. 

“She’s just drunk,” Cacie rolls her eyes, gesturing towards you. You lean your head onto the curve of the armrest, and the way the light blares down into your sight has you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. Breathing raggedly, you follow Six’s movements toward you, a sickness hits your chest again and you close your eyes, sucking in a pained breath. Six scans the half bottle of champagne, and then you. Suddenly a hand presses to your forehead and you attempt to flutter your lids open. Beads of sweat drip down your skin, and your hair becomes so wet it clings to your cheeks. 

With a sudden sternness six asks, “What was in the champagne?”

Cacie throws up her hands and scoffs. ”How the fuck am I supposed to know? Champagne? I bought it at the store.”

Six rotates the bottle, attempting to find any language or label on the glass. “From who?” Cacie sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically. “I don’t know. The fucking cashier, who else?” 

“Did you say anything to them? Like how you were going to be alone?” Six asks, staring up at Cacie who quiets, a certain guilty look on her face. He raises his brows and she throws up her hands again. 

“Well… I didn’t think it was gonna be a big deal. I just told him that her dad was finally going out of town for more than just a few days, and he gave me that from behind the counter.” She holds a slightly worried expression as six gives her a blank look. You groan out loud as the pain in your stomach swirls. The bile was reaching your throat, the acid, the nausea, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You violently hurl over the leather couch until your stomach expels every ounce of liquid it can. Before you knew it you were carried away and forced to sit in a car seat before you passed out cold. 

When you woke up you are met with a hospital ceiling, and upon turning, you find six at the corner, standing. Pulling your arms to your sight you see an IV in your wrist, alongside other needles. Anxiety spikes, and you gasp, rushing to get out of the bed.

Six rushes to you, gesturing with his hands to calm down, “Hey hey, lay back down, relax." You hesitantly ease back in.

“What happened?” You ask. 

“Your friend gave you a poisoned bottle of champagne.” He states blankly. Rolling your eyes at the paranoia, you cross your arms. 

“I’m sure I was just drunk.” Sighing, you look out at the window nearby. 

“Do you normally puke out blood when you’re drunk?” He says, tilting his head, and you turn to him. 

 “Only when I’m having a good time,” you can’t help but joke and smile to yourself, eyes now glued to the outside.

Six was quiet, and you shift your focus on him. He has a straight face like usual. You had a deep feeling that maybe if you weren’t purposely attempting to annoy him for the past few days, he might’ve liked you as a person.

“Sorry.” You mutter. 

He raises a brow, and you go on a nervous rant. “I just never get to be alone, so I get angry. So far every guard has quit, and that was always my intention. But..” The words were at the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t bear to say thank you, that he saved your life of course, a feat no guard has ever done, and probably never would’ve. 

“I understand if you will.” It is quiet for a moment, and you sigh, keeping your gaze just stuck to the window. You swallow sharply, and it feels like razor blades scratching down your throat. 

“I won’t. It’s my job.” Sierra six states like some automated robot. 

Pushing your head into the pillow, you scoff. “Even when you got a girl who’s trying to make your life a living hell?” 

“I’ve been with worse company.” For just a moment, you can see a shimmer in his eyes, and there’s just the smallest prettiest little curl at the edge of his lips. Grinning widely, you make out a laugh. Though, it’s not for long before you cough out a gross chunk of phlegm, or even blood maybe. 

“You okay?” He asks, moving to you as you nod weakly.

“Yeah…” You trail off tiredly. “Can we go home now?” He finally chuckles, and you turn to him, embarrassed, a slight blush burning in your cheeks. 

“Not yet.” There’s a frown from you, and you sink into the bed, your eyes closing. Six’s gaze lingers over you for a moment before he gets back into his past position, his hands folded neatly over each other. 

It’s been close to a month, and the only company you ever had was six, and you hated to say.. you were starting to fall in love with him. Maybe it’s because you were desperate for any social contact. Or maybe because he's the only one who actually broke your facade and you feel comfortable to be your self around him... Or maybe it was just.. something about him.. the way he would smile just slightly, his soft chuckles whenever you finally did make him laugh, his ability to remain so calm.. it was so peaceful and reassuring in your boring days. 

“I mean seriously though, why isn’t there an alternative to ketchup? It’s not like I’m just gonna put mustard on my fries, so you can’t say that’s one. It’s either ketchup or fries alone. You know?” You complain while shoving a fry into your mouth, huffing. Six removes the attention from his computer, his brow raised.

“Are you done?”

You nod absentmindedly. “You’re right, mustard sucks too.”

He lets out an impatient exhale, but there is just the slightest little twitch that nudges his lips into a smile. You find yourself grinning whenever you manage such a feat. Maybe he was annoyed at you, sure, but you knew he couldn’t deny that the mindless banter was enjoyable, and even he couldn't help but join in it every now and then. 

Six looks up at you with a stern but playful expression, “I like mustard.”

“Hm. You do seem like a mustard guy.” You raise your spoon to him accusingly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He stops typing completely now, gaze locked onto you. 

You circle your spoon and gesture to all of him. “It just screams.. you, you know?” 

Six hums. “Is it the hair?” 

“Yes! It is the hair!” You point to him and six nods, resuming his typing. He then shakes his head, and chuckles after a moment of silence. Smiling, you continue eating and snicker to yourself, well that is until a wonderful idea hits you.  

“You should teach me how to fight!” You shout and he gives you a blank look from his computer. 

“Why?” He asks.

“Well, what if someone breaks in and you need help?” He smiles only slightly, and your stare remains fixated on him. His beard compliments the frame of his sandy hair, and the blue of his eyes that glance your way. You loved picking those features out every now and then. 

He averts to his screen, “I won’t need help. Trust me.”

“But what if you do.” You retort. 

“I won’t.” He shakes his head. 

“But what if-“

Six sighs, “Alright, I’ll teach you. Happy?” Hand resting against your cheek, you giggle. Six glimpses when you walk off. Then his gaze remains for a second too long. 

Surely when he wasn’t looking around the same spots, exits, and corners every moment, he could relax in a way that still made him feel like he was working. That’s what you hoped at least when you dragged him outside beside the pool and forced him to teach you his martial arts, or whatever. 

“I’m not going to hit you,” he reminds you right off the bat.

You playfully gasp, pressing your knuckles to your hips. “What if someone bursts into my room and attempts to knock me out, hm?” 

“That won’t happen.” You open your mouth to retort and he puts his hand up.

“Don’t.”

You whisper the words “but what if it does?”

You would’ve believed him and even called yourself paranoid, but considering you just had an attempt of murder on you, unfortunately, the idea wasn’t out the window anymore.

“Hit me.” Six gestures, and you step back instinctively, a bundle of worry in your chest. 

“Anywhere..?” You press your lips nervously into another.   

“Anywhere.” 

You dive your balled-up fists at him, and he swiftly moves to the side. It was some impressive reflex, and you did it again only to watch him repeat. You take a step back and smile, breathing through your words. “So, I guess my father doesn’t hire useless people.”

The more you try, the more useless it is, but you’re determined until finally he grabs your wrist and holds it. “You’re too predictable, you can do better. Come on.” A huff escapes, and you swing directly at his eye, but he dodges just in time. 

“Better.” Six pauses, and moves to you, grabbing your fist. “Like this.” He moves your hand in the direction, imitating the movement, and once he steps back, you copy. “Good,” he compliments, and you step back, smiling.

Six makes a gesture with his hand, directing it to him as if saying to keep it coming. Taking a deep breath, you move to punch him, and he dodges. You do the same movement several times and he all but does the same, except each time you notice you were getting just a little closer to his window.

Eventually, you pant and hold your hands to your knees. “This is a lot more tiring than it looks.” 

Six looks around at the daylight slowly diminishing. “You should eat, it’s dinnertime.”

“You cooking?” You ask, taking a deep breath. 

“Not unless you like cereal.” He jokes with that blank tone as he walks away, but you give a small chuckle before following him. 

There was a question you were itching to ask as you sat down, and you gave him several glances to determine his mood. Then again there was never anything that showed what he might be thinking, so you purse your lips and look down at your food again. “What?” Six speaks up, and you turn to him, quietly staring. 

“Nothing,” you mutter, eating a forceful spoonful of your rice. 

Sierra Six hums, his gaze lingering over you, and you stand, getting up to walk to your freezer. “There’s no more ice cream,” you pout. 

“Good. I won’t be able to hear about how chocolate is better than vanilla for a while now.” You turn around to Six who has a little playful glint in his eye, and you fake pout, moving to sit back down. 

“You didn't enjoy my talks?” 

“I would’ve if you chose vanilla.” He jokes, and when you laugh he can’t help the small smile that tugs his lips.

You rest your hand on your cheek and find yourself gawking at him. Six eventually speaks through the strange tension. “You look like you have something you’re wanting to ask, so what is it?”

Biting your lip, you look away for a moment and eat another spoonful of bland rice. Life without your fancy chefs was definitely a depressing one. 

“Nothing I haven’t already asked you.” You say in a small mumble, and six hums, stopping his movements at the laptop. 

“You’ve asked me a lot in these past few weeks. Like what icecream flavor is my favorite, if I like ketchup better than mustard, if whiskey is better than bourbon, if-“ Cutting him off, you sigh. 

“What’s your name?” Six gives the same blank neutral expression, but as if he’s thinking. “Unless.. you don’t have one.. but you’ve got to right? You weren’t born an agent.. were you?” You ramble on, and six eventually lets out a small exhale, tilting his head. 

“Court.” He states and you quiet, keeping your eyes on his. Suddenly you smile, then it turns into a grin, and you laugh. He looks confused this time, “what?”

“Nothing… I’m just.. happy you told me.” A giggle escapes you, and there’s a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. Court raises a brow and gets back to work, his side gaze lingering on you as you move to put your dishes into the washer. 

“Goodnight Court,” you sing with a little giggle and wave. 

“Good night (Y/n).” He says, his focus back on his screen. Yet as you walk away the smile he held within him escapes fully.  

Throughout the night you found yourself tossing and turning, your head filled with thoughts of six- or Court. The house felt safer with him, you admitted, and on many nights when you were scared, he soothed you to sleep with his presence that you bothered to have near you.  

“Six?” You call out, making your way out of the bed with your little nightgown on. No answer and your heart leaps up into your throat. He always answered the first time. What if someone actually did intrude and he wasn’t there, or worse, he lost? God you were starting to sound like your dad, no way that’d happen… But what if it did? 

“Six..?” You call out quieter, tiptoeing around the door frames like a scared little child. There were no lights on, and the windows displayed only the inky blackness outside. It must’ve been, what, 2 am? Now you were beginning to get very worried, and your heart began to beat so fast it was drowning out the quietness of your large house. 

“Six..?” you call out yet again, and no response. 

When you turn a corner, there’s the body of an unfamiliar man on the floor which makes you jump back. Your toe pokes at him, and he doesn’t move. Your anxiety is now fully spiked, and you rush around the hall to call out for six. You find yet another black outfitted body, blood leaking from their chest onto the floor. Although, you didn’t notice that part until you tripped and fell on it. Groaning out in pain, you clutch your head, and call out one last "S-Six!".

Suddenly you hear glass breaking and a silenced gunshot which makes you jump. There's a heavy thud at your feet, it’s the body of another man, and when you look up, it’s Court who stands above you, alive and on his two feet.

He lets out a breath, and you ogle up at him, unsure of what to even say. Court gestures his hand to you and you take it. He instantly pulls you to your feet and you tiptoe silently around the body in front of you. You open your mouth to speak, but his focus zones behind you.

Something is moving in the corner of your sight and you shriek in reflex, instantly rotating to punch the assailant. "Ow!" They hiss in pain and recoil, holding their nose. You stare, wide-eyed, and when the man removes his hand from his face, his eyes narrow onto you. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you contemplate running for a moment but you are more than determined, so you hold up your fist and muster up the same expression.

Suddenly an object flies over your shoulder, it nearly grazes your cheek before it lands deep into the chest of the man who is knocked back. Turning, you see Court who has a serious expression on his face, possibly the most you've ever seen.

You don't have much time to breathe out a word as another man comes behind him. Court rotates just in time and lands a loud sucker punch to the man’s jaw. The attacker stumbles back and gasps, attempting to grab at his pistol that Court more than easily undoes and the magazine falls to the floor. Court lands another hard hit, and you can visibly see the blood that leaks from the attacker’s nose as he repeats, and repeats.. and repeats to the point where you might as well feel guilty for the poor guy.

Cringing, you turn away, and you assume Court is finally finished when he lets out a breath and walks towards you. You study his movements as he nears the man beneath your feet and yanks the blade out from his chest. He takes a rag nearby and begins wiping the blood from it. You notice there is also blood running down his arm and without thinking your hands quickly roam to find the wound. 

“Are you okay?” There was pure concern in your voice, and he scans you as if deep in thought. 

He answers after a few seconds, shrugging, “I’m fine, just a little graze.” You frown and he adds, “You should be sleeping,” breaking you from the focus on his arm. 

You huff. “When did they come in?” 

“Now.” Court continues wiping the blade, not even looking at you. 

“I told you I wouldn’t need any help.” Court continues in his monotone voice and you’re breathless in pure astonishment. You wanted to gasp out a “You’re unbelievable," but in reality, you say what you know annoys him. 

“But you might've.” He cracks just the edge of a smile at you. 

Your knuckles are a bruised red and you can't help but smile as you add, “Did you see the punch I landed? I did more than help, are you kidding?" Court chuckles and god even at a moment like this your heart flutters. 

"Really? That's weird, I feel like I remember teaching you that punch. When was it..?" He looks to the ceiling as if just struggling to remember, “Just earlier today?" You were stuck in your smile, and your head tilts like a lovesick puppy, eyes glued to his. He gives you a sweet smile, then examines your dress which now has a puddle of red in it from when you tripped. 

“You should go change.” He comments as if trying to shift the moment, and you hum, looking down at the bodies on the floor. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen this, considering the line of work your father was in, but the shake of six possibly getting hurt, or that they were coming for you upset you more than anything. 

“I couldn’t go to sleep.” You now change the subject, looking up at him. He doesn’t respond, so you touch his hand and gently grab the knife that he was working at and place it on the counter. “Do you ever sleep?” 

“Rarely. I can’t really afford to, considering,” he gestures to the bodies, “someone might break in.” 

“What if I stand watch, and you sleep?” You offer, and he laughs for a bit. When he notices you’re serious, he gives you a look as if you just said something ridiculous. He scoffs and you pout.

He shakes his head, “That’s not your job.”

“No, it’s not. But my job as a host should be to make you feel comfortable and well-rested in my home.” You tilt your head, giving the best puppy eyes you could muster. 

“Interesting character development.” He jokes and you pout. 

“Come on, please? Starting tomorrow, you can take the best nap of your life.” You hold his hands that were once cleaning the knife and squeeze gently. Blue meets (e/c), and for a quiet long moment, it remains that way. Six doesn’t say anything, he just stares, and you do the same. Eventually, he decides to speak.

“I should probably clean this up.” You look around and take a step back forgetting to remember you’re an inch away from a pile of blood. 

“Oh.. right.. yeah.” You trail off, giving him one last look as he does to you, before you nod, and walk off. 

“Good night (Y/n),” he says and you turn back and smile. 

 “Good night Court.” 

The closer you got to the time of your dad coming back from his trip, the more a big twinge of disappointment would hit you. It was almost 2 weeks left now, and you felt a sadness thinking of it. It would mean no more Court, and he would go on his way to other missions, or worse, even become a bodyguard to some other girl who’s conveniently all alone in a big house. 

“Are you okay?” Asked Court who was, as usual, typing on his computer while you ate. 

“Yeah.” Responding, you stab sadly at your eggs and let out a sigh. He wouldn’t like you anyway, not with how bad you treated him the first few days. There was no way.

Maybe it was a good thing he was leaving soon, so you could just be on your way and stop being so lovesick. Sooner or later another guard will come and you’ll go back to making their life a nightmare. 

Court stares at you from the sides of his eyes, and hums. “I’ve been with you long enough now to know what’s wrong, so tell me.” He pushes his computer out of the way and directs his focus onto you. “What’s on your mind?”

Your lips purse, and for a moment you think of lying or not telling him anything, but you finally decide, that if he wasn’t going to be here after these 2 weeks anyway, then what was the point of keeping it to yourself? 

“I’m just.. disappointed you’ll leave soon.” Court tilts his head, probably not even sure how to respond to that. 

“You’re the only guard I’ve liked. So far I’ve made all of them quit, or even want to kill me themselves. My dad probably expects that you’re already gone or wanting to blow your own brains out by now. But… you’re here.” Awkwardly you finish your statement, refusing to stare at him in the eyes.. until finally you do. He gives you this questionable expression, and truthfully all of his emotions have been at least a tiny bit readable, but right now, you’re truly unsure of what he’s thinking. All you seem to notice is a glimmer in his eyes, maybe something sad, happy, mad, you really couldn’t tell. 

“Yes.. I am.” He trails off like he wants to say more. 

“Why?” 

Court shakes his head for a moment and glances down, then he shrugs. “It’s my job.” Exhaling, you push yourself back into your seat. 

Thinking of what to say and biting back a disappointment, you muster out a painstaking gratitude. “Well… I thank you for doing your job. In 2 weeks, you won’t see me again, and I’ll be back to making someone else’s job here hell. So.. you’re almost free.” You joke, but in a way that hurts you. A small fake smile is all the reaction you want to give, but the humor that makes its way to your words is almost nonexistent. 

There’s a harsh jab that hits your heart that you’re attempting to push down. You knew he wouldn’t like you, it’s outlandish, but still, the tears that force their way to your eyes made it hard to show no emotion. Court sees it, and his attempted stoic gaze remains on you, but you can see he’s feeling emotions he’s unsure of, or like he’s thinking hard. His mouth opens to speak after a few seconds but you don’t want to hear it, not the words that you’ve been dreading, not the confirmation that’ll break your heart.  

“I’m going to shower.”

He nods, and you purse your lips, turning away from him. Once you are sure he couldn’t see you, a few tears fall to your cheeks. 

You put your hair up in a clip and decide to give yourself a nice bath instead. Undressing yourself, you lock the door to the bathroom and turn on the faucet, adding in a scent of your favorite soap. The bubbles rise to the top, and you watch, spacing out as you wait for the water to fill the spacious tub. Once it’s done you dip your legs in one by one and slowly sink yourself in, enjoying how the hot water settles your nerves. Once Court is gone, you’ll go back to normal, surely. Your eyes close and you let out a relaxed exhale.

You must’ve stayed there for longer than you thought, because there was a knocking at the door, and you mumble unintelligibly to yourself, rubbing your eyes awake. Muttering tiredly, you ask, “Yeah..?”

“It’s been a few hours. Are you good in there?” Court calls out, a slight worry in his tone. 

Humming lazily, you draw yourself out of the bath and swing a robe on, your hair partially wet in its bun. “Sorry, I.. must’ve passed out.” You nearly whisper, opening the door to see Court’s face. He nods, and you both share a longing gaze. 

“Right um… I’m going to get changed.” You cut off the awkward moment, walking off before he could see the light blush that dusts your cheeks. The way your heart beats, betrays the nonchalant thoughts of him leaving and reminds you painfully of the attachment you have. Once again, the idea of him vanishing right when your father arrives causes a pure sinking pain in your heart. 

You throw on whatever’s comfortable and let out a sigh. Grabbing your hairbrush you tiredly begin brushing your hair while a sad pout glues to down turn your lips.

A knock on your door alerts you. Courts at the doorframe, his hands folded over one another, his blue orbs holding a certain sweetness when he views your form. 

Nervously finding yourself caught in his gaze again, you pull away clearing your throat. “Hi…” 

“Hi.” He responds, remaining still. It’s another awkward moment as you slowly brush your hair.

Court suddenly starts, “I’m not going to leave.” You stop, your attention shifting to him. He adverts his eyes for a moment and shuffles his legs, then focuses back.

He speaks with his usual neutral tone, but there’s a slight mix of something unreadable in there. Your attention is now stuck on him and every word he has to say.

“As tempting as it is to no longer have to hear about.. chocolate being better than vanilla,” you both share a small chuckle, “I don’t want to be “free” from you.” Court peers longingly, and you’re not sure what to say, you’re barely even blinking, your heart is leaping into your throat and you swallow roughly. You’re unsure of what exactly he means by this.

Court continues. “The only way I’ll leave is if you want me to leave,” he pauses, “Do you want me to leave?” 

“No,” you whisper, eyes glued to his. 

He walks towards you, slowly and steadily. “Then I won’t leave..” Court trails off, and you avert your attention. 

“What about when it’s no longer your job?” He takes a seat beside you and uses his thumb and index to hold your chin gently, making you gaze back into him. 

“It’ll always be my job.” He practically whispers. 

You scoff, “To be my bodyguard?” 

“No, to protect you,” He says surely, and your cheeks instantly turn a soft pink. 

This time you mumble back, a small frown on your features. “Even when you have to leave?” 

“Even when I have to. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be gone forever.”

Your eyes keep staring directly into his blue orbs, and you aren’t sure if it was his face that got closer, or yours, but eventually, your lips touch, and your lids close peacefully. He tasted sweet and was softer than you’d imagine. Upon separation, your gazes remain fixated on one another, and a genuine smile tugs at both your lips. 

You speak without thinking, “I like you. You know that?” Court hums, breaking out into a laugh. His lips spread wide into a grin, and your heart skips just a little beat. 

“Just like?” This time you chuckle. 

You bite your lip and coyly tilt your head. “You gotta earn that second part.” 

“And how do I do that?” Court asks, his voice soft. His fingers dance over your cheek, and you go weak at just the idea of his face so close to yours that you almost can’t even respond. He’s returned your feelings, and this makes you ecstatic. Your breath hitches when he leans in and plants a kiss on your lips. 

“Just like that?” He asks, smug, and you nod, breathless, moving to touch his dark blonde beard that frames his features so well. 

“Just like that,” you whisper, and he smiles, moving in to kiss you again.  

[notthecutesttrash]

Late Night Call

(Alpha/omega AU) Ghostface x reader

Content: You live with your parents, and as an omega who can’t usually go out, you’re alone during your heat. That is until you get a mysterious call.

Warnings: 18+ Smut, rough sex, blood, stalking, mentions of knives, daddy kink

Word count: 6.6k

PART 2

To my favorite killer, enjoy~

The throb in your head was just as brutal as the heat searing around your body or, as the slick producing and pouring down your clammy skin. Grunting, you shifted your body in discomfort once more, your eyes attempting hard to focus on the movie that you had purposely put on for a small attempt to ignore this irritating, biological monthly function. The grunt soon shifted into a small whimper, feeling a pesky bubble in your stomach when you took a nice large inhale through your nose. Your hands quickly shifted to grapple tightly onto the tight cushions beside you, as if to stabilize an already sitting figure. 

There was that alpha scent again, lingering around like a cloud of smoke, stuck to every particle of air. You’ve smelt them all and you always made complaints. Arguing that they were usually all the same. Most scents smelt like sweat, few beautifully good, but this… this was a heavenly smell that you never experienced. Somehow all you wanted was for it to cling down to your clothes, for that specific alpha, whoever it was, to fuck you as their life depended on it, and to knot you… deep and tight. 

The night surrounding your closed windowed house, made it easy to express loneliness, as no one within a mile radius was close. No being was here, just you, all alone, frightened, and in a terrible omega heat. 

Fiddling with the controller, your eyes could barely make out the commands, it was blurred and dark. From this you huffed out, pressing a hand to the pounding ache in your temples, down to the tensity in your neck. There wasn’t even a tad of a helping hand, or at least some fucking cooler that you can stick yourself in. Yet before you could agonize even more on how irritating the situation was, the phone rang. 

It was loud and vexed you as much as an alarm. Nonetheless, you mustered through gritted fear and pain. You reached over to grip the phone tightly. Your hand managed to grasp it so harsh, that it was alarming its counterpart didn’t just get yanked out of its wire. Though if that happened then you'd really be stuck, with a low-battery phone, unable to charge.

“Hello..?” your voice came out in exhausted slurs. 

The voice that answered back with the same word differed plenty. There wasn’t much to go on by, yet you let out a small grunt of disapproval from the dizzy intrigue surrounding your body.

The mysterious person spoke. “Who is this?” He had said as if he hadn’t called you first. If you weren’t in unfortunate shape, then perhaps you would have laughed and joked crudely, but this time you did nothing but struggle to quickly get to the point. 

Your ragged breaths managed to barely declare, “I should ask the same.” Instinctively the man chuckled beneath his breath, and too brisk to shut up or lock away, a small moan released.

How embarrassing, imagine some wrong-number stranger moaning over the phone. 

However, It didn’t appear as if it was heard, and you opened your mouth to speak, taking a turn this time to ask who you were speaking to. It was cut off quickly.

“What’s your name?” The man asked serenely, his voice slow… almost slower than what you assumed to be normal, making you feel every little syllable and breath. Mind clouded with fog, you responded, hardly able to remember that this was some strange random who made a mistake with his calls.

“(Y/n)…” you whispered, eyes clouded with lust.

Swearing you could hear the smirk in his tone, he responded nonchalantly, “(Y/n)… what a pretty name,” it was slow, oh so slow, and gorgeously sexy, with just the right pitch of smugness that made you already more wet then you were.

Exhaling a hitched breath, you nodded quickly, for a second forgetting that this man was over the phone and not in front of you. You weren’t sure what got over you, but the instinctive omega need made your hand slowly move beneath your pants, down your underwear, and over to your soaked folds. 

“What’s wrong (Y/n)?” He then said, coincidentally taunting. 

Your words were spoken through desperate exhales “Nothing.” Fingers swirling at your clit, you let out a tiny… barely noticeable hiss of a moan. Back arching, head craning back against the couch, your dizzy fogged head and blackened vision saw a void that the man managed to speak through… like nothing. 

“Are you sick?” The man presumed, yet even with these words that faked a small sense of worry, you could tell that it was knowing, harsh, and teasing. 

Shaking your head a no rapidly, your teeth dragged your lower lip in, biting softly as you felt a wave of arousal swirl down to your needy heat. “N-No.. I’m just…” trailing off, you thought quickly of what to say, but no utters were voiced. You were only a muddled form, on the brink of orgasm, begging to be filled. 

This time his voice was deliberately intimidating, threatening, and quick. “Just what?”

Moaning in response, your head curved around the tall cushion behind you, fingers striving to stimulate every bit of your nerve-wracking clit. Seeking no response, you continued the treatment towards your throbbing cunt swiftly.  

“Ah… maybe you’re just a little horny omega in heat.” You froze. Your hand is stuck in place, eyes widening instinctively. Suddenly a horrid shiver of fear got sent down to your spine.

“H-How did you know… I was an omega..?” You asked with a sudden spike of anxiousness, a breath caught in your throat. 

“I didn’t,” he stated.

Suddenly you had felt like a fool for revealing such a horrible fact, while you're especially alone in a large house at night, talking to a stranger over the phone. 

 “O-Oh…” you whispered a blatant stutter. 

“You still didn’t answer me omega, are you horny, or are you not?”

The tone became more ridiculing, yet so invigoratingly demanding. In obvious truth, you should have been offended by a stranger who was suddenly asking such odd rude questions. But the rational hidden side of you was stowed away, overpowered by your quivering omega counterpart. It only now cherished the idea of being fucked brutally by some stranger with a hot terrifying voice. At the thought, your fingers continued to softly circle your clit.

“I… no…” you trailed off. 

It was perhaps one of the worst lies you had ever told, but… some part of you didn’t mind him knowing. It felt different, trustworthy, and just.. right, just as this overpowering alpha scent that was near your form. Somewhere… meters away for all you knew. It’s almost as if it was taunting your frightened figure to go waltzing out in the dark forests alone, to likely only find nothing in the end. 

(E/c) blinking up at the light hanging over your head, you somehow quickly felt more sickeningly dizzy. It was like a drug overpowering every sense other than arousal and awareness for this strange being. 

“Oh?” Your pussy twitched harshly. “Is that why your hand is down your cunt then?” 

You weren’t sure what came first, the pure terrifying horror, or the powerful sloppy arousal. A sudden chill blew to your arms and over your neck. Every little goosebump and hair rapidly spiked up.

“What?” You rasped out, fingers shuffling to a quick pause, your eyes widened, and your head instinctively turned to glimpse at the windows facing you. 

Nothing but darkness. 

Taking a sharp inhale through your nose, you begin to quiver through your horror, a shaky moan escaping. This scent was intoxicating, brutal, and so lovely… The scent of an Alpha, nearing closer and closer. God, it began to feel like it was in this very house beside you.

Words were said once more, but this time, you could hardly hear a thing. Instead, you were so focused on that particular powerful smell that you didn’t even manage to notice the ripple of pleasure making its way down to your womanhood, adding to the trickling slick.

“Get up,” he said, drawing you out of the circling daze. It was commanding and strong, and your wobbling legs quickly arose with a quick subliminal nod to his words. Promptly, your hand gripped the top of the couch, hardly walking even a step before he spoke once more, adding much more to the struggle. 

“Keep going princess,” you were shaking, straining to hold upon the walls for support. Your legs were becoming putty, with breaths so labored that you could hardly hear yourself. Any other normal human being should have been paralyzed, angry, irritated at this stupid little joke. But you weren’t… you wanted to listen, you wanted commands, and you oh so desperately wanted loving attention.

A few sluggish steps later you had made it to the kitchen, hands gripping tightly onto the counters as if you were bound to collapse any second. 

“Why?” You whispered out, particularly to no one.  

“I just want to play a game (Y/n), can you handle that for me?” The man questioned smoothly. Slick trickled down your legs, and the fluttering heat produced in your stomach shuffled uncomfortably.

“Y-Yes…” The omega quickly answered, followed by a small curious part of the reason.

“W-Wait… who are you?” The voice from this chuckled, and surely a grin was tugging at his lips.

“If you be a good girl, I’ll tell you, all right?”  

Softly humming in quiet shaky approval, a sudden chill ran over your skin.

But I am a good girl… A small voice whimpered back in your head.

Please fuck me, another small voice begged, hips wiggling at the thought.

Within seconds, the scent increased tenfold. It was close, oh so close. You didn’t know where but you were pleading. With eyes shut, head lulling to the side, you Inhaled deep, a small sweet “alpha” slipping from under your tongue. The man chuckled closely, almost sounding as if it was directly behind your form. In return your knees buckled under your weight, small sweet moans following. 

The omega side soon subsided for a small moment and a horrid realization struck you. A gasp widened your eyes in fear. You pulled your arm away in slow horror to your sight. The phone in your hand said nothing but the time, signifying the call had already ended. The hairs upon the back of your neck raised, and the breath you were to exhale caught in your throat.

Suddenly you heard as clear as day “Turn around omega... Unless you want it to be a surprise." The man bore an even darker tone in person.

Immediately a flicker of dark fear burned into your hammering heart when you realized where the sound had come from. It was as clear as the masked hot breathing down your form, an inch away from your frozen figure. 

Every single form of fear exploded out, and suddenly the thoughts of inevitable demise had burst into your throat. You were unable to move. A hand wrapped in black leather-like fabric, grasped the phone out of your shaky hands and placed it far over the counter. Swallowing a harsh dry lump, you gasped out a terrified breath from a chest full of anxious pain, a trickle of tears eventually forming in your eyes. 

The atmosphere became painfully silent, your body frozen in time. No words were said as you could feel dangerous fingers stroke through your strands softly. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Even with such an action, it felt terrifying, like he was threatening you.

Even with such fear, the urge to lean into the touch was undeniable. The leather-like fingers moved down to the fabric over your back. They graced your shoulders and continued in a single line down your spine. Eventually, they stopped once they hit your hips. 

“Now.. tell me those words you said again.” The mysterious figure ruled, his voice much more clear and terrifyingly close.

Escape wasn’t an option, it was far from one by now. If you had decided to step merely an inch back, you would’ve been leaning into his chest. His voice was down your neck, sending rough chills into the death-like coldness. An odd mixture began to form, a blistering omega heat, mixed with ice-like fear. 

The man’s hand snaked to your front, gently rubbing up your stomach until he reached your breasts. A harsh squeeze choked out a desperate unexpected moan. Your pussy twitched in need, causing the idea of escaping a cloudy figment of imagination. 

“Hmm? I can’t hear you omega.” He leaned down to your ear, another hand gingerly running up to your pulsing airway.

You were supposed to be terrified, quaking in your boots, yet you couldn’t help but lean into his touch lovingly, your form slumping in easy relaxation. A soft appreciating moan escaped once his fingers grazed over your tender needy nipples. Run, a voice told you, hide, another said, then there was the dumb-ass omega side, that broke out with an aching “please.” 

The voice was just the same over the phone.. yet even better… so filled with overbearing domination. “I don’t think so.”

Inhaling another large whiff, a lulled groan too hard to elude slipped from under your tongue. It was your alpha, you knew this and neither did you have a second of doubt. 

A flash of reason pounded hard into your head, and your hand instantaneously lunged for the phone that was only so close. His gloved hand clasped over yours tight and harshly before your fingertips could even grace the object that was oh so close. Ignoring your sad little attempt, he leaned down to you once more. 

“Maybe you need help remembering,” the man teased, a knowing snicker deliberately escaping. “I can always fuck it out of you,” he then adds, almost causing you to sputter out in shock. Your throat went dry, and with widened scared eyes, you realized that the words must’ve slipped. 

“… I-I didn’t-” your struggling remark was ignored as well. The assailant… or whatever he was, leaned down to your neck and inhaled a rather nice large scent. An omega in heat could be smelled from long distances away, but it was different, you were his omega, and nobody else’s. You both seem to be aware of the moment he stepped within a half-mile radius of your area.  

The urge of desire over being marked or claimed was too unbearable, and your biological need caused you to crane your neck into him, begging for the bite to come.

The figure did nothing, and instead, he waited, stalling as you writhed under him, desperately wiggling into his clothed cock. Purposely, he watched your little pained expressions every moment he had exhaled a breath over your neck. 

You desperately bucked your hips into him multiple times. The arousal he felt was obvious, all from your little display and sweet scent. The outline of his hard cock made you moan out with excitement.

“Please… Alpha,” you began to lament endlessly in frustration. Your hips couldn’t help but continuously wiggle into him.

He exhaled roughly, sounding as if you were driving him crazy. His inevitable need queued for aiding his omegas pesky little heat. A primal aroused growl released, and you nearly dropped right then and there.

A gloved hand grabbed at your neck and he pulled your entire body into him forcefully. It staggered you, but luckily because between the counter and him, you weren’t just about to drop yet. 

“A little omega begging to be fixed.” He hummed, a free gloved hand reaching down, beneath your pants to your dripping folds. Moaning loudly in response, you leaned hard into him, barely able to speak with his clutching hold upon your neck. 

“You..” You only managed to sputter out. 

“Good girl. You’re already learning.” The praise alone made you moan out happily and tingle with desire. Into your ear, he declared a chilling yet somehow… comforting threat. 

“If some other asshole even tries, I’ll fucking gut them, you got that?” You should’ve been afraid and horrified, but the instant claim he had over you, made you melt in pride and joy. Yes... you’re his. Only his. 

”Yes alpha..” Your words came in moaned whispers. 

“Mm, I like the sound of that. But it’d be even better if you called me daddy, princess.” Your pussy clenched at the thought, and you nodded. You just loved the idea of calling your alpha daddy as he fucked you senseless. 

“Yes, daddy..” It fell from your lips so naturally, you’d think he already had fucked you before. 

Suddenly he had switched his black leathered hand to the nape of your neck, and before you had any time to respond, he shoved your figure down, bending your upper form harshly over the countertop. A surprised yelp left you once your cheek hit the cold marble, and in that brisk moment, your pants were shoved down to your mid-thighs. 

There it was… an embarrassing display of light pink soaked panties, only for him to see. 

Sliding his finger to a long rub down the damp stain, he spoke, and you shivered. “What a naughty girl, did you get this needy just by hearing my voice?” He hummed, his fingers slowly moving up and down, causing a clenching quiver in your body. It was making the arousal twenty times worse.

God, it felt so good.

 “Ah… oh..mm..” The louder moans that fell from your lips were loving and sweet, just enough for him to let out a loud pleased grunt of his own. You wiggled your hips into him, the lovely sound of his gruff voice drenched your folds almost double the amount.

His movements then switched after his long slow teasing, and his concealed thumb shifted to rotate in swift circles at your clit. Your legs were shaking, and you were trying hard to move and squirm freely under his hold. The pleasure was coiling harshly up in your heat, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing. 

“Or was it smelling me that whole time?” Mouth opening to possibly deny, an immediate gasp forcefully subsided it. Your panties were instantly shoved down to your thighs.

It must have been quite the shameful sight, because he couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, his eyes observing and drinking in the scene of a throbbing drenched cunt twitch at his every little action. He continued his sweet abuse on your clit again.

“Daddy…please.. a-alpha… I..” you began to whine aimlessly, irritated tears nearly releasing, pleading for your pussy to just be filled already.

An irritated growl was released, and he tightened his hold on your nape. “Speak the fuck up.” His tone was much deeper this time. You had ripped the predator from its prey, but you couldn’t care, you were so desperate. 

“Daddy, please! Please!” God, surely you sounded so pathetic. 

“Hm? Still can’t hear you.” He pulls away and your heart sinks at the coiling pleasure instantly dying down. “Guess my slutty little omega doesn’t want to cum.” 

“No! No no! Daddy- Alpha- alpha, please! Please!” At this point you're begging aimlessly, hoping and praying for him to give in. After no eventual response, you draw out a long pitiful, “Alphaaa.” 

He speaks like he's smirking, and asks “what?” like nothing was wrong. You wiggled into his clothed cock, pleading desperately. It was a dangerous game to play, but you no longer cared.

“Claim me, knot me. Please, please.. just fuck me.” Your needy words made him hum, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Louder.” 

The embarrassment turned in you. You go quiet for a bit, pursing your lips.

"Daddy..” you muttered out in a small plead. 

“Say it.” 

“Please fuck me!!” He does the same hum with a tilt of his head, surely a wide grin on his face.

“Louder.”

The frustration and tears force you to yell out the loudest plead you thought possible. “Daddy please fuck me!!!” 

That seemed to instantly work. Within a quick moment of some shuffling, the head of his thick cock, almost leaking with pre-cum, poked at your hole. It pushed in a centimeter, then stopped, shifting to only rub teasingly. You whimpered. The hold over at your neck moved to your shoulder then down your spine. He pressed your squirming form down tightly. 

Unexpectedly, when you had waited for more continuous teasing and were just about to wholeheartedly cry out a beg, he ripped his cock halfway through your walls. Your throat felt like it couldn’t make much for inhale. Neither could you find the room to request a pause… your breaths could only stagger so much. The man’s hips moved, and his splitting cock almost felt as if it was increasing in size, pushing deeply into you, aiming until it couldn’t any longer. 

In a futile attempt to hold onto anything as he continued to slowly bury himself to a hilt inside your aching cunt, you stretched your arm out to reach the end of the counter. Though in his perspective, it surely must've looked as if you were reaching for the phone that had been only a few inches away. With that he held his hand harshly over yours again, igniting a rumble of a whimper.

Within a quick moment, he began to move and pound severely into your walls, and without a chance of accommodation to his size, he pulled out to only slam through the tightness again. It had only been a few seconds and he had already fucked out every little breath you could hold in your body. 

“W-Wait Daddy-“ you were interrupted by a slam of his hips into your cunt, and a thrilling moan escaped your mouth. His hand moved away from yours, and although you were not planning on it, he smacked away the phone with a simple regardless flick, hearing it bounce away and slam onto the floor, almost sounding as if it had exploded into parts. His gloved hand then grabbed a fistful of your hair, and he began to pull at it mercilessly to crane your head back. 

“Oh? Now you want me to wait?” He said, and god you swore his endless sarcasm and smug words, would only make you cum much faster and harder.  

The omega side of you loved this, and you had forgotten any sense of rationality as this alpha had pounded into you viciously. With the hold upon your hair, your pussy held down on his cock, tightening the hold of your walls instinctively. Your moans were continuous and you made no work to conceal them, instead, they began to get louder and louder as you felt every inch of him repeatedly.

Hardly able to hold any time over your words of need, your other less abused arm moved down as much as it could, begging silently for his touch. His fingers curled through yours, intertwining once his second hand dropped from your hair, and he moved to your waist, holding you steady. Head falling weakly with a thud, you continued to take the abuse in your pussy, the abuse that you craved for so long. A wave of shaking pleasure was beginning to form. 

It was clear that you were sobbing, begging for a knot that you could feel within him. Please, please, please, just give it to me before I cum, I’ll do anything, pleaded the voice in your head that made its way to your lips quickly. 

However, you had spoken too soon, and in seconds an alarming frightening climax snuck up. Too immobile and weak to hardly react upon it properly, your coiling pussy trembled as much as your tightened sore muscles. You exhaled a loud cry, legs shaking through the rough quivering release. Your lips soon fell with begs, pleading for him to at least hold on before he cruelly fucked you hard through it. As expected, nothing slowed, and your overworked nerves sobbed.

“Tell me omega, what do you want?” He had a quicker gruff pace to his words, rather than his usual steadiness. It sounded so perfect it made you excited.

“I need y-your knot.. please, give it to me. D-Daddy, I need it so bad- p-please, I- Ah!” His cock split your walls further, hitting at your core with such ease. You moaned hastily, his body curling over yours. It felt delicious.

The thought of him being ready to take whatever he desired with a singular thrust of his hips into your tight anticipating excited body, sent you over the edge.

Beads of sweat from your biological heat rolled down your skin, and your labored breathing sped up higher and higher.

Yes.. this is what you finally wanted. Please.

“Oh, I’ll give you more than that, don’t worry baby.” he declared in a gruff. The grip of his increased, and you knew that his knot was coming, and this produced an ever so pleased moan. You could repeatedly cum just from the thought itself.

He was climaxing soon, and feeling it your hips began to buck and roll onto his prodding shaft, feeling a second instantaneous break about to erupt. He grunted and with this, his pace quickened violently, and you were sure that your eyes were already rolling to the back of your head.

The fucking was ruthless and you had no time to immediately adjust once he shoved himself completely to the end of your cunt and halted to a harsh stop. A gorgeous low huffed groan was barely heard as you felt his large knot along with his dribbling cum pour deep within you. 

A rippling orgasm like electricity convulsed in your body, and from the deepest parts of your throat, you let out an undeniably happy whine as you came hard against him. “Good fucking girl,” he praised, running his fingers down your hair while your body twitched, almost completely unable to move. 

“D-Daddy…” you whispered, unsure if it was even heard.

Feeling his cock slowly remove itself from your sloppy aching hole, your walls cried with exhaustion.

Still, it wasn’t enough, the heat igniting in your body was too frequent, and although you were tired, you whimpered at the removal. 

Yet you realized quickly that it was a grave mistake to plead so soon.

You finally understood this once he flipped you around harshly, your back slamming against the cold marble counter. 

Pulling your shirt away from your clammy body within a second, he threw it and grabbed at your legs. The grip of his was harsh, and he dragged you down effortlessly until your ass almost completely hung off the counter.

With no time to react, his thick cock plunged deep inside of you. Pulling back in moans, your eyes flickered up in need.. but It was then you gasped and realized what had been fucking into you.

He was a tall masked figure, a white long face with a black shroud of clothing surrounding him. But what was worse, was the fact that there were several drips and splatters of red liquids all over some empty clean spots of his white ghostly face. 

The masked figure tilted his head to stare at you, an intimidating demeanor that your pussy twitched in response to. He was fucking into you mercilessly without a care in the world of what was on him, and your questioning became short as a sudden moan ripped you away.

Your neck craned back to the ceiling, too focused on the cock spearing your walls and the blinding heat of arousal in your body, to care about the specifics of a strange dangerous alpha fucking you deep. He was probably some fucking murderer for all you knew. 

“A-Ah! Right there! Please, d-don’t… stop,” you gasped out, another climax already on the verge of rushing in. Anticipated frustrated tears were streaming down your cheeks, your throat tight and dry, while your helpless pussy struggled to take the abuse that you so craved.

You let out a loud obnoxious moan and suddenly a forgotten ring in the air made you both pause. For a moment you thought it was your ears alone, and when you had so clearly ignored it, the masked man halted, your climax so dearly on the edge of exploding now stopping.

“No!” Your needy self couldn’t help but plead as he left you.

His form moved away, and you raised your head to groan. It took you no more than a few seconds to realize that as he stepped away and let out a small eerie chuckle, his body was filled with blood splotches.

He placed two items beside you, a phone… and a sharp item that you could barely see. Although he had on a mask, you still were able to take notice of the certain taunting-like expression he most certainly held.

He was definitely ready for you to say something you might just regret.

With slow realization, your blurry eyes managed to scan over the item. It was indeed a bloody very much used hunting knife… And god you hoped that the blood was from hunting and not from what you thought.

A ring was heard again, and the phone beside you is vibrating angrily. Glimpsing to him, your eyes held some question for approval.

“Answer it.” He demanded. His cock was still out, and it was so visibly near your hole that you were almost angry he couldn't just pound you now. He tilted his head to the side when you bit your lip, hesitating.

Eyes flickering to the knife once more, you inhaled a sharp breath and picked up the phone, pressing answer and sputtering out a “hello…?” 

“Hello? (Y/n)? What are you doing?” Your mother on the other end had answered, a voice filled with curiosity. Opening your dry mouth to speak, words were on the tip of your tongue. 

Before you could manage to breathe out or even think of an answer, the man’s cock had immediately slammed into your needy cunt. "I-I" Your hands rapidly clasped your mouth shut before a squeal would escape. He was abrupt, moving quickly, slamming into you repeatedly with a heedless demeanor. You exhaled a very shaky noticeable breath and attempted to answer serenely.

“I-I’m just… watching a movie Mom..”

Breathe… just breathe, ignore it, a rational voice spoke. Your eyes were dilating at every thrust, and your omega part instantly shut that up.

“It’s not a horror movie is it?” As she was talking, he gripped tight on the back of your knees, and spread your legs even wider apart to go deeper. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, and you weren't even listening anymore.

“N-No.. I don’t know..” You sputtered out random words, barely able to think straight with his cock thrusting in you.

Fear mixed into pleasure. The climax was rushing and you were terrified, afraid that even with the efforts of holding it back, it would explode mid-sentence for all to hear.

Your eyes were moving back and forth from the ceiling to him, desperate to get your mind off of it.

But, how could you when he was fucking you so ruthlessly?

You bit desperately onto your tongue to avoid getting caught rasping out moans for a strange alpha.

“Well, stay away from those, you’re already in heat.. and alone. You don’t need to be scared too.. not to mention it’s night, and-“ she began to go on an endless rant and you're dissociating as he rams you.

His hand then switched positions, and with this, he moved to your clit. You weren’t necessarily sure what he was doing, and you're staring at him helplessly. A fear is drawn into your eye until he squeezed at your clit and tugged. This instinctively forced a piled scream to threaten its escape.

You bit down on your tongue brutally, fingernails digging into your skin. Your pleading with your expression, peering into black eye sockets, begging for a momentary pause.

A wave of the climax is finally erupting. You could see no features, but you knew he was smirking. His cock twitches at your terrified look, aroused at the sight. He's continuous, all while he stares straight into your crying eyes.

You shook your head as if to give him some sort of hint, as if he didn't know what was happening.

He of all knew, with the feel of your tightened pussy, a quivering body, and a sobbing plead that you were about to cum all over him. 

It was too late regardless, and tears were spilling down your cheeks in endless streams as you felt a third break roll in.

This was the worst of them all, and your eyes shot up to the ceiling, hardly able to see anything but black spots clouding your vision. Your pussy was twitching, your body was convulsing, and your erratic moans were muffled, stuffed impossibly tight in your hand.

Of course, your mother must’ve assumed, that it was just of your heat, and you were doing nothing but sitting and watching a harmless movie.

Some sense of stability rolled in for a small second, and with a blink to reality, you could feel his abuse at your clit never for a second pausing. You threw your head back with a small whimpering cry, clasped fingers threatening to give up.

Please, just a little bit longer. You were so close to breaking.

His cock is never ending even if your cunt is hyper sensitive after a quivering break. The shock of your sore clit managed to produce another wave of erratic pleasure through pain when he presses hard.

When you took too long to answer, a wary irritated “hello?” produced. Taking a deep inhale, you attempted to bite down through the quivering pain mixed with overriding pleasure.

He was surely determined to break you as much as possible until you couldn’t feel anything but your trembling pussy.

You mustered up every last bit of courage to restrain your cries. Your fingers curled so tight in the palms of your hands that you were sure they could've pierced the skin. 

“Y-Yes Mom… I-I get it… a-are we done?” You wanted your voice to be filled with aggression, despite it being rude, but it was begging as if you were giving her a hint to what was happening.

His cock plunges deep into you again, and again, and again. And he has zero care.

You didn’t think for one second of warning her about this masked being, even if you did, that knife would probably go right to your throat before you could react. It wasn't like you could focus on anything but the feeling of being destroyed anyway.

“Yes yes, just stay safe, we’re coming home in a few hours,” you nodded heavily afraid to say a single word in case a squeal leaves.

“Hello?” She repeated, and you grunt, humming your sobbing approval until she finally clicked the end call button that you had so hoped to achieve.

Your hand didn’t even let go of the phone before the masked man let out a growl. He moved in closer, his cock plunging your numbing hole.

Whimpering and sobbing, your grabby hands stretched out to him, pleading for your arms to wrap around his form. Your pussy was still craving the moment when after he was done fucking you terribly he would cum at a hilt within your walls. 

Hands grabbing at yours, he yanked your upper body up effortlessly, allowing you to wrap your shaking quivering arms around his neck. “Y-You’re cruel daddy” you voiced with a torn broken pant, weakly grasping the strange leather-like fabric of his clothes. 

“You’re fucking right I am,” he responded into your ear, dark words almost sending you to heaven.

You were rocking your hips hard into him without notice, drenching the counter with your cum.

Grabbing tightly and sinking your nose into his neck, you smelled a whiff of intoxicating alpha. With instinctive need, all you wanted to do so achingly was to lick and bite down into the gland. The thought of him beginning to fuck into other omegas set a boiling envy in you. This was just as much as your alpha, as you were his omega. 

Sensing this, the man whose hands were now almost half on your ass and onto your legs, dug his mask deep into the nape of your neck. “Jealous already hm?” He voiced with a taunt, ignoring your whines. His cock was getting faster, bigger, and already experiencing it the first time, you knew just was about to come. 

The anticipation of his cum drenching you, set you off with moans and writhing squirms. “My little omega would want nothing more than for her daddy to cum completely inside her wouldn’t she?” His tone was lazy, sexy, and yet breathily sped up as he neared his climax.

His mask rubbed at your neck, and you cried in approval, the nickname he gave himself made you squeeze tight around him. Nodding hastily, Please claim me, you beg to rasp out, a breath stolen as he continues.

You felt it coming like a coil ready to snap. It was coming and you were extraordinarily eager. Your hold strived to get tighter on him, but it was in reality getting weaker and weaker, and when he stopped inside of you, a terrifying orgasm sped through your shaking body in hot quick seconds.

Grunting out, your nails dug deep into his clothing while your legs managed to tightly wrap around his waist. A hot dribble of cum coats your walls and almost begins to protrude from your trembling cunt.

It didn't take long for his thrusts to start again. But this time it was mild and almost sweet through your lasting climax. Heavy moans and pants poured out of your lips.

Exhaustion began to seep into your form just as rapidly as the soreness surrounding your now unclenched muscles. The commanding grip on your thighs left, and his arms wrapped around your exhausted figure tightly. 

Your eyes tiredly blinked into his neck while you panted, cuddling more for warmth. The heat of yours instinctively calmed to an unexpected point. It was then you were finally beginning to notice the sweat rolling down your agonizingly hot skin. Although the knowledge of who exactly this dangerous possibly murderous alpha was is nonexistent, you were happy.

“Stay daddy.. please…” you let out a small sad whine, nestling deeper into him, licking at the fabric around his neck.

“As much as I would love to little omega, I have things to do,” he spoke as if signifying something. His hand trailed up to your neck. By now, you weren’t so sure what these “things” were, but considering your current state, it didn't worry you for a second.

Whining, a pout of dismay appeared. “Can you at least… tell me your name now?” You moved back, looking at him with blackened blown out eyes and a tired tear-stained face. 

His leather-like fingers ran up your chin, to your lips, his thumb outlining your lower one. At this point, he was simply teasing and feeling how your little breaths hitched every time his thumb slipped only an inch inside your mouth. The action repeated multiple times until an inevitable groan had escaped from your lips. That sexy dark chuckle broke out, causing your pussy to shyly tighten around his still drilled-in cock.

His bloody white mask neared your features. The words of his were slow and steady, lulling you into a deep sleep, you weren’t even sure if you heard it correctly.. or at all.

Ghostface…huh?

Nodding your head softly, you hummed into him with approval, placing your head back into its comfortable position, his chest. His hand caressed your hair gently as you began to feel the darkness sweeping in. 

[notthecutesttrash]

Masterlist

Note: Hello hello. This is for the few peeps out there who want to read my work. Many of these stem from the current time, to years ago. Just decided to bite the bullet and post everything. Hope you enjoy!

18+ will be *

(GIFs are never mine)

Requests on a specific char? Lmk

Haikyuu!

Grey (Miya Atsumu x reader) Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Jujutsu Kaisen

Mascara and Tears (Dark! Gojo Satoru x reader) *

Fault Line (Gojo Satoru x reader) *

No Love Lost (Satoru Gojo x sister reader)

Stop One (Mahito x reader)

Play Time (Toji Fushiguro x reader) *

Nostalgia (Sukuna x reader, dark) *

Hunter X Hunter

From One To Another (Chrollo x reader, Soulmate AU) *

Scream/DBD

Late Night Call (Ghostface x reader, A/B/O AU) *

(Pt. 2) Defiance *

The Gray Man

Vanilla Ice Cream (Sierra six/Court Gentry x reader)

[notthecutesttrash]

Grey (Pt. 1)

Content: Miya Atsumu is a bully, and his fangirls are even worse. They make your life at school a hell.

Trigger Warnings: Verbal + physical bullying, language

Word count: 7.29k

PART 2, PART 3

The bell rings and you grab your books to sprint off. Frantically you open your locker, and as you do, a white crumpled-up paper falls at your feet. You open it and find angry scribbled words, all ranging from “Loser!” to “Get lost!” and “You're pathetic.” Exhaling a sigh, you place the books into the overhead space and grab the others. 

This all started a week and a half ago.

You had been in class and the exhaustion was creeping up into your mind. It was the last hour, the sun was lowering, it looked to be a moody day, and you could only hear the teacher every other time she spoke. This time she was chewing out Miya Atsumu over a wrong answer which then turned into a long lecture. 

All you could think at the time was huh, guess he only had one skill, and that was just wooing pathetic girls over. 

The class went silent for a bit, and you exhaled a sigh, turning to the main board, only to see Atsumu and what felt to be every woman in the class glaring at you so strongly it could pierce. 

You froze, sputtering a “s-sorry…” as you bowed your head. Ever since then, you could feel a heavy shadow looming at your back. 

It was just a fleeting thought, you didn’t mean it negatively. Well, maybe you did. You weren’t sure anymore, but you don’t think you deserved this sort of treatment for such a stupid comment. 

Every other girl you passed shot you a look like you were nothing but dirt beneath their feet, even a few men. 

Was the whole world on his side? 

You cradle your books to your chest as Atsumu begins to walk down the same hallway. Look down. Just look down and nothing will happen. He turns his head to look at you as you pass, and you can feel your breath stuck in your throat. Yet as you manage past him, nothing happens. Relief instantly follows. You were going to be all right, nothing big was going to happen. It was just a stupid little comment. Soon it will all be forgotten. 

Suddenly an obstacle blocks your foot as you absentmindedly walk. You stumble and almost fall face-first into the floor. The books in your hands drop, and luckily your free hands are there to brace you. You’re on your knees, nose nearly kissing the floor as you feel a crowd pause to get a good look at you. They were snickering, and when you look up, Atsumu’s down the hall giggling, a terrible grin on his face. There's a woman in front of you, the one who presumably tripped you, laughing. You sheepishly go to grab one of the books and she kicks it to the side. 

You can get through this, this was nothing. You were sure of it. 

It's even worse when you remember that Miya Atsumu is one of the best volleyball players ever. Of course, you on the other hand, on the girl's volleyball team, are the complete opposite. Although your team was nice, they didn't talk to you much. One of the middle blockers, Angie, was giving you side eyes and little glares whenever you missed a receive. When another spike came, you dove and missed by a few inches. 

"Sorry guys.." You exhale a disappointed sigh and the ones on the other side of the net are the only ones smiling at you. 

 "No worry Y/n! Maybe it's just not your day. That's okay, it happens!" Lucy shouts with a grin, giving you a quick thumbs up. You muster a begrudging nod. 

Angie harrumphs with her hands on her waist, scanning you. "And you have the nerve to judge an all-Japan camp candidate when you can't even get one receive as our libero." You frown and cast a glare on the floor. 

Lucy huffs on the flipside. "Stop it, Angie, we all know he's good, there's no need to shove it in our faces. The point is, he's not here, and he's definitely not going to be watching you, so move on." She gasps, and the other girls can't help but snicker. You're too exhausted to even pay attention to the conversation.

Your hands are on your knees while you desperately catch your breath. 

"Inarizaki has no place for weak players." A quiet but stern woman speaks. Miyu. Her palm is holding the ball you failed to receive. 

Lucy holds her hands up and waves them around anxiously, attempting to ease everyone. "Everyone has off days. let's not bully her about it."

Angie visibly rolls her eyes. "She's been having off days for like 2 weeks straight now." 

Lucy opens her mouth to probably defend you with another sentence you don't deserve, so you just speak.

"I'm sorry, I will do better." 

No one responds as you bow, but you can feel the irritation lingering in the atmosphere. 

After practice is finished and all the girls leave, Lucy meets you outside the entrance. She has this sort of pitiful look that sinks your stomach. 

"Hey.. listen, (Y/n).." she nervously trails. You had a feeling this was going a certain somewhere. 

"The other girls seem to be complaining a bit about your performance lately.. and you know… I don't want to do this but.. the coach thinks.." She's fidgeting, struggling to come up with the right words. 

You're pouting, tears pricking your eyes. "You're cutting me off..?" Your words leave in a choked whisper. 

"No! No.. well… you might be… but! You aren’t yet. You can still prove him wrong..” 

She sighs, and her hand gently holds your arm. 

"Listen… I know you're going through some things right now. So just take your time. "She pauses, then looks at you pitifully. "Hey.. maybe if it happens.. it won't be necessarily the worst thing right now. Maybe you might even need it." She is coming from a good place, but you're hurt. 

You fail to respond and that helpless look appears again. 

“I’m sorry (Y/n)..”

You're striving to keep your expression as blank as could be as you nod. “Thanks for letting me know.” You turn fast, hoping she won't continue anymore. You just wanted to go home now.

Though, when you leave the gymnasium, you hear the boy’s side practicing. They're always extremely intense, and many times their practice runs late. You had an urge, and you decided to follow it.

Mustering up all the courage, you go inside, up to the second floor as quietly as possible while they play. Two squealing girls are already watching, too captured by the scene to care about you. Atsumi’s twin brother Osamu was there. Admittedly, they were an impressive duo. You didn't have to be good at volleyball to see that. 

Osamu had a serene sort of confidence, while Atsumu.. well, he looked like the type to do a dump shot just to be petty because he knew he could.

You hated to say his sets were beautiful, perfect even. 

Michinari, the team’s libero, receives almost every volleyball that flows his way. Even if the serve was a floater, a jump spike, or a simple one. It was impressive, and you aim to study his movements.

The way he holds his arms, the way he moves, his focus, everything you didn't do. The whistle blows and they get back into position, and you meet eyes with none other than the blonde twin who is currently serving. He raises his brow, his cocky face almost disgustingly amused. You glimpse far away to avoid him. It’s not like you came for him anyway, god, you hope he didn’t think that. 

The whistle blows and he walks up 6 steps, jumps, and hits a powerful serve that Michinari almost wasn't able to bump.

“Nice receive!”

Michinari calls out, “Bit short, sorry!” 

Atsumi touches the ball, and you're confused. He can’t set it now. Why would he do that? 

Osamu is the one who jumps and sets the ball to Atsumi who runs to a side with no blockers and does an insane quick you've never seen before. The impact alone has the sound bouncing off the walls. 

“Ahhhh! God, they’re so cool!!!” The girls go crazy beside you. 

You hum to yourself.

You've seen enough. Besides you didn't want to be anywhere near one of the twins, so you left as quietly as you came. The gym was empty now, the girls were gone and you could practice without judgment. 

You bounce the volleyball on the wall and attempt to receive it. Still, even with it being much slower than the average serve or spike, you were slightly off. Huffing, you bounce it against the wall and it comes to you, you were sure you got it this time. Your arms attempt to tap it, but it awkwardly hits your neck and topples over. 

Maybe it was your position, either you were too close or too far. First, you try stepping a bit back and you serve into the wall. It comes at you fast, and you feel as if you could see it in slow motion. It was perfect, you were going to hit- it flies over your head and you're dumbfounded.

Okay, closer. Farther wasn't right. 

This time you run to where the ball is headed, and right when it's about to come to you, you position your arms perfectly just for it to hit your knee. The next time it hits you in your groin and you grumble beneath your breath. 

One more time. 

You serve to the wall and it powerfully bounces off. You were ready. You could do this. Just position. The anticipation rises, and you sidestep the way it moves. A large grin stretches, you got it! 

Your finger just barely graces the ball, but it sends it flying a few inches high and it hits your shoulder.

Michinari. Remember. 

Remember the way he stands, the way he moves, the way he reads its direction. 

Your arms attempt to replicate his, and your knees bend just a little. 

One of the volleyballs hits the side of your head, but you did touch it, so that was progress.

It makes you smile. 

Sure, you got knocked into the chest almost every other time, but all that mattered was after the 30th try, your arm made contact again.

The ball lifts only a few inches above your arms before it slaps you on the head and splats to the ground. It travels close to the other dozen that lay around the gym. You're groaning as another flies past you. 

Another serve, you could do it, just one more. You push it and it slams against the wall, rebounding your way. Perfect! Getting into position, your concentration narrows as it comes to you. A forceful impact meets your knee. 

You lift the ball and slam it with your palm. It was so fast you could barely keep up with it, and you were a second off from receiving it before it wacks your neck. Coughing out at the impact, you huff and try again. Just keep your arms down, don’t waver every time you see the ball coming towards you. 

It was slow, but it flew your way, and you remained patient. Just get the timing down, not too early, not too late. Now!

You bump the ball perfectly into the air and gasp at the contact. You could do it! You could finally do it! Your eyes remain on it, waiting for it to come back down, a massive grin on your face. 

"You're doing it wrong." A voice interrupts your concentration and the ball slams into your face. 

"Ow.." you rub your nose, whining. The ball thuds against the floor.

When you eventually look up to the cause of your lost focus, you instinctively step back. Atsumu is there, sweat dripping down his skin after a long practice, eyes judging you.

You don't speak, and you can't even meet his gaze for more than a second.

He steps to the bin and grabs a volleyball. He does a quick normal serve against the wall, and it bounces to him in a split second. He positions his arms and receives it perfectly. You glue onto the way it cascades so beautifully.  

He studies your look, amused at the ignorance.

"Bend your knees like this." He does the motion and you falter before hesitantly mirroring. 

"No. lower." You do it and glance at him for approval. "Arms like this. This side showing more than the back." 

He gets into a normal stance to throw the ball above your arms. You keep your arms together as you receive it, and although it wasn't very high, you couldn't help the happiness that befell on you. That was so much easier than all the other times. 

Atsumu humorlessly chuckles "To think you're on the volleyball team and you don't know this." Your view averts, arms cradling the ball you just bumped like a trophy. 

No matter the insult, you sucked up your pride.

You mumble a "thanks.." and he scoffs.  

“Yeah, I’m going.” He starts walking to the door and you nod.

“Okay.."

Today was a rough day, but tomorrow will be better, you repeat this continuously as a sort of mantra when you get home.  

Your parents greet you happily and there is a warm meal on the table. You slip your shoes off before stepping into the kitchen.  "We got one of your favorites!" Your mother chirps.

You can barely fake a smile. Most days this would make you happy enough to forget everything that occurred in the school day, but not this time. The happy grins fall and they become worried. 

Great, look what you did. 

"Is something wrong (Y/n)?"  

You swiftly shake your head at the tone. A smile spreads your lips wide, maybe a bit too forcefully. You sold that fake happiness by rushing to sit at the table.

"No, nothing serious. I was just a bit annoyed from practice today. I couldn't receive at all." Your dad raises a confused brow as he attempts to remember what receiving is.

"It's when you catch the ball, you know, like this-" you angle your arms down and put your hands together. He makes an o with his mouth and nods. 

"Everyone has their days." Your mother is as optimistic as Lucy. 

You share thanks and dig in. 

"Even candidates for that All Japan youth camp have their days you know, and they're the same age as you, so there's still a lot of growth there." You're silent, and you set your chopsticks down. There's a big inevitable frown plastered on your face. You knew it meant to cheer you but to think of Atsumu and how talented he was after you insulted him and him helping you learn basics you should already know.

"Yeah, you're right." 

Your mood drops significantly. They give each other a side-eye.

When you're done you clean your dishes and head to your room. Wrapping the blankets around you in a sort of burrito you sigh as a few tears slip down your cheeks. You wish you hadn't said that. 

Back to another miserable panic-inducing day. 

Before class, you open your locker to now see two notes falling to your feet. You stop and stare while some girls giggle maniacally behind you. Sighing, you pick them up, crumbling the paper beneath your fingertips. Grabbing your books, you head to class and ignore how it feels like all eyes are on you when you pace.

"Look, it's the  libero who can't even receive a ball." Someone starts the moment you walk in. Frowning, you hold your bag tighter as Atsumu's eyes glue to you, a smirk dawning on his expression. 

"She-"

His words are interrupted by a shy woman who is holding a cute pink-wrapped box in her hands. A blush dusts her cheeks, and she crosses her legs. "I-I.. made this for you Atsumu… I-" An eek leaves her as Atsumu scowls hard, an expression that could terrify just about anyone. Class starts and she nervously bolts to her seat.  

You never liked long lectures or busy classwork, yet now you've learned to appreciate it. This was the only peace you'd get until you had to traverse the hallways or go to practice. You should just feign sickness, it's not like they'd miss your presence anyway. 

For lunch, you typically sit outside on one of the benches in the shade. You liked being here lately. It was nice, and when the wind rustled the trees nearby, the sound would calm you.

You lean against the bench and sigh, placing your bento atop your lap. You undo the cute little cat wrap your mom gave you. It did cheer you up a bit. You open up the box to see your favorite. You smile sweetly.  

"Look who it is, little miss (Y/n)" A sudden catty voice alerts you. 

Panic rises, and you shift your view to the sound. A group of girls known as the cheering squad for the boy’s volleyball team are walking toward you.

They have angry expressions, and their hips jut to the side as they near.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" The "main" woman in front, named Kiyoko speaks to you like some dog. You tilt your head, anxious and confused. What was the right answer here? 

You shouldn't be scared, you wanted so desperately not to be, but instead, you're cowering under their scowls, holding your lunch tighter to you.

"For what..?" You genuinely ask.

They growl like mutts, and suddenly the open box in your hands is viciously yanked from you. Before you can register what was happening food began dripping down your hair, a weight on your scalp tumbling. 

"Did that jog your memory?" 

You're quiet, and your teeth grit against one another, hands bawled into fists. Don't say it. Don't say it. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

A thick sauce drips down your hair. 

Kiyoko leans down, cupping her ear. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." You suck in a sharp breath. 

"Aw look she's going to cry." A voice in the group erupts. 

"Whose pathetic now?"  

They giggle together, and your knuckles turn white. 

You speak louder. "I'm sorry." 

"That's what I thought." She pats your cheek condescendingly. "Have fun cleaning that up." 

They leave as quickly as they came, and you dissociate as they laugh horridly while walking. Food begins to fall onto your jacket. If you didn't clean it up now, you would just be more of a laughing stock later.

A gust of wind flows, and the tree sways. Yet not even that makes you feel at peace right now. 

Water runs down your neck as you're in the bathroom, attempting to scrub the smell of curry out of your hair. The stickiness is hard to get out, and your scalp looks like some mangled mess. You pool warm water into your hands and splash it over the grains of rice that are glued together. It takes pretty much the entire lunch period until you get it all out. 

Luckily you have your volleyball jacket in your locker that you can swap out for the other. Fortunately, because it's a little oversized, it falls at your sides, just enough to cover the splotches of stains on your skirt.  

The teacher furrows her brow at you when you walk into the deafened room. "(Y/n).. you're la-.. why are you wet?"  Your hair is drenched and tangled as you walk to your seat. The girls who know what happened are snorting to themselves. 

"I fell into the lake." It was a stupid excuse but it was enough for the teacher to awkwardly continue with the lesson. That was until a loud laugh cuts the tense atmosphere.

The teacher sighs, “Yes, Atsumu, do you have a question?" You turn to the sight. At the opposite end of the class, there he is, poorly stifling a laugh.

Atsumu is chortling as he talks. "I guess not even that can wash away your horrid smell." The girls in the class laugh a little too hard at that.

"Enough. I didn't want to start it now, but since you two have a problem, you will be assigned together for the new project coming up. You will work together and makeup, whether you like it or not. I will not tolerate unkindness in my classroom. I don't want to hear any ifs or buts." The teacher calms before continuing. "Now, make sure you all listen up, I will now say the rest of the assigned partners." 

You meet Atsumu's instant cold glare and your eyes widen in fear. A jolt of anxiety rushes to your stomach. You feel sick.

"Now, we will use the rest of this time today and tomorrow to come up with a plan. You should be about halfway done at that point. This is due next Tuesday. Do whatever you need to do outside of the time, go to the library, discuss outside of school, meet up, exchange emails, whatever, but you will only have these 2 days in class to work on this." Great, a worse sentence couldn't have been said when your partner was Atsumu of all people.

The teacher gives you and Atsumu a firm look. "Do I make myself clear?" He's annoyed, you're terrified, yet you both nod either way. 

"Good, now disperse." She flicks her hand and everyone begins moving. 

Most of the girls in the class, or all, including Kiyoko and her group, send you angry glances. It's not like you wanted to be paired with him either. 

You're anchored in your seat, too scared to move. Would he come to you? Would you have to come to him?

Will you just not at all talk for these 2 days and do the work independently? Will you-

"Let’s get this over with." Atsumu has his hands in his pockets, his eyes refusing to look at yours. You nervously clear your throat. 

"R-Right.." 

It's a bit begrudging, but he sits near you and starts to work in his notebook. You do the same, occasionally not aiding the way you're examining his hand move so efficiently. He even had pleasant handwriting.

He doesn't glimpse your way, but you can tell he's getting peeved. “Are you going to keep looking, or are you going to work?"  You swiftly avert, awkwardly beginning to mimic the speed at which he writes. Your hands are shaking but you become so adamant you can't even focus on the way there are stares and whispers behind you. 

"Does she even shower, why does she smell like that?"

"She's such a loser." 

"Did you hear she can barely even receive the ball?"

"As the libero too, it's literally her job. Talk about lame. The audience would probably cheer if she got switched out."

"Seriously, I don’t even know why she's the main one, the other one is so much better." 

Atsumu side-eyes you for a second, then goes back to his writing.

The bell rings, and your focus ultimately gets cut off when he begins packing. You mutter an oh and do the same.

You're getting dreary thinking about going to practice now. Your stomach grumbles and you hold it. Maybe you could go to the vending machine, the one with milk and protein drinks so you can get some energy.

Yeah, with what money? 

Rushing into the hallway, you ignore how Atsumu is still standing outside until he calls you.

“Hey (Y/n).” Atsumu sing songs eerily, and you halt, fear swarming inside you. 

He wouldn’t do anything to you like the girls would right? You could deal with a few prissy ladies shoving you to the side, tripping you, and grabbing your lunch, but him? 

You timidly rotate his way and he's holding that usual pompous sneer. 

His tone is sadistic and light. “I heard you might get kicked off the team, what a shame.” 

Small tears brew in your eyes at the mention, fingers bawling into a tight white-knuckled fist. 

“Oh? Did I strike a nerve? But really, I think it’s a relief, don’t you?” He continues, “I couldn’t imagine getting kicked off my own team." 

Atsumu snickers and his orbs quickly darken. "But that would never happen, because I’m more than just a guy who can swoon a few pathetic girls over you know. You though.." He fakes a pondering gesture. "I wonder. Are there any skills you possess?" 

There's a lump in your throat that you can't bear to swallow and he chuckles. "Right. That's what I thought." He turns to leave.

“Well, at least the female side won’t have to be ashamed anymore.” 

Tears meet your cheek. An inevitable sniffle escapes when the tightness in your throat closes. You wish you could scream out how much of a jerk he was, but all you did was whirl around and run away. 

A hand touches Atsumu's shoulder, pulling his focus away. “Don’t you think that was a little mean?” Osamu is gazing at him seriously. 

Atsumu scoffs. “Anyone who can’t take the truth doesn’t deserve to be playing a competitive sport, especially if they suck.” 

Osamu wacks his brother’s head, and the blonde-haired twin growls, raising his fist to do the same. 

The next day you smell like soy sauce.

Though, at least It was a lot easier to clean.

You rung your hair of water. Your hands press against the sides of the sink, and you gaze at yourself in the reflection. From staying up late crying, not eating breakfast in the morning because you had to rush out, to not being able to eat lunch, you're a mess. The bell rings and your expression darkens.  

Maybe if you pretend you didn't hear it... Maybe if you went to sleep in the stall you could just rest for a bit. 

The bell repeats its terrible tune.

You pat your face dry and force yourself to return. On this occasion, you're on time so no one would notice you. Or so you would've thought. 

"Did you enjoy your lunch (Y/n)?" A girl speaks, a snarky trail at the end of her words. There is laughter amongst another little side posse. You turn to her, quiet, and staring.

She zips her lips and you go to your seat.  

"What's her deal?" 

"It was just a joke." 

“You know the whole ordeal. Everyone, get with your partners. This is the last day in class to talk with each other." 

With that, everyone gets together and unfortunately, yours does too. 

Atsumu is sighing as if completely forgetting the day before. “Let’s get this done, the last thing I want to do is meet up.” 

You nod and open your notebook. It's silent for a couple of minutes until one of you ruins it. 

“Why is your hair wet again?" 

Atsumu raises a snide brow. "Go for another swim?" 

"Yes." 

He didn't expect that straightforward answer but still chuckles. 

It doesn’t get to you, and you keep writing. He appears amused that he wasn't managing to aggravate you. You’re not surprised. This is Inarizaki, the school that tries to make other teams cheaply mess up by booing or playing loud music when they serve.  

A moment passes and you tiredly declare, “I’m sure neither of us wants to talk to each other, so let’s just focus, then we won’t have to meet up later.”

He looks amused. “You’re a lot of how I expected you to be.” You turn to him, and he shrugs. 

“A teacher’s pet.” 

You frown, mumbling mainly to yourself, “I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Atsumu chuckles. 

“Of course, you don’t” 

You fixate on him, and his expression remains.

You just had to get this done, then he wouldn’t be at your side bothering you any longer. 

The time is ticking, and the last thing you want is to have to text him. You’d rather take a 0 then do that. 

Well, maybe not to that extreme, but you sure as hell didn’t want to be in contact with him, or worse, have him come to your house.

He would have that annoying smug gleam as he sits at the table and makes conversation with your parents. Your mom would be so charmed, and she’d be nice enough to make him dinner. Then he’d eat it and make dramatic gestures about how good it is, meanwhile, deep inside all he wants to do is probably throw it at you.

A shudder cascades just thinking of it. 

The more time passes, the less confidence you have in finishing this project today. There was maybe a quarter left, and that would’ve been fine if again… it wasn’t a team job.

Maybe if he was doing his side, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

You're writing faster, while the pompous ass turns in his seat and starts cracking jokes with the pair behind him. If you could just finish these parts.

You just need to do a few more. Your breath catches in your throat the more you glance at the clock. With a few minutes left, there was surely no way you could finish. Albeit, if you give up now then it'd only prove that. You just have to keep writing and hope.  

Anxiety is pacing your heart, and you're getting sloppier and sloppier the more you go. The laughs of the row behind you, the tick of the clock, the sound of your pulse expanding and expanding drags you to the edge. 

The bell rings, signaling the end. You slump in your chair, defeated. Atsumu grins and grabs his bag, considering he didn’t even take anything out, all he had to do was just get up and leave while you pack. 

What a jerk.  

Somehow, he still manages to take his sweet time, and he practically traps you in, making it irritatingly impossible to leave. You throw your bag around your shoulder and stuff your fingers in your pockets.

Your head hangs low as Osamu is at the door again, waiting for his obnoxious twin. You didn’t know who was a little older, but god you hoped it was the grey-haired one. 

"Hey." Atsumu starts, and your heart speeds up. This was going to be just like yesterday, wasn't it?

You nervously fixate on him. He's tall, much more than you remember, maybe around 180 cm. 

"Give me your phone number." 

You're taken aback, tilting your head confusedly.

"F-For.. what?" You blank and he impatiently glowers. 

His voice is deep when annoyed. "What else for? The project." 

You quickly nod. "R-Right.. sorry. It's um.." You nervously push your hands into your bag, struggling to find your phone. Most are already out of the classroom at this point and he's becoming more visibly impatient. 

You feel it and immediately pull it out. Opening your contacts list, he yanks it out of your hand and starts typing. Once finished, he throws it at your desk and you fail to catch it as it slams against the wood. He casually turns to leave. 

He suddenly rotates his head over his shoulder and gives you a sharp look.  "You should quit volleyball," he says.

"Everyone has a job on the court and you can't fill yours, because you suck." 

You're frowning again.

Osamu gives you a momentary glance before leaving. You're frozen in place, his words echoing in your head. 

On Thursday, you feign sickness to stay home.

You wrap yourself in a burrito of blankets while you watch TV. At least at home, you can eat freely. You also won't hear mean gossip behind you. You're never absent anyway, so one day was easy. Just one day to yourself. One day without seeing either of the twins’ faces. No fangirls, no volleyball team, no stress, just one peaceful weekday beneath the sheets.

You sleep until 10. 

Although a bath sounds wonderful, it's refreshing to just walk downstairs with pajamas and messy untouched hair. “Good morning.”

You yawn, grab a cup, pour yourself orange juice, then sit down at the table. It was a nice day to eat breakfast together without any rush to be somewhere on time. 

Rubbing your eyes, you set a plate down and stare at the empty chairs beside you. That's right. You're alone, your parents are off to work. 

Once done whisking together a lovely omelet, you eat peacefully savoring every bit of silence. This was nice. 

You can do anything today. Maybe even go to the market and get yourself a little desert. Milk bread, curry donut, strawberry shortcake, whatever. Your mouth waters at the thought. 

Though rest sounds nicer still. 

That project wasn’t due till Tuesday, and it should take you about 2 days to complete alone, maybe 1 if you were going to meet up with Atsumu, but that wasn’t going to happen. 

Faceplanting into bed, you moan at the feeling of the bedsheets. They surround you like a heavenly cloud. Yes, this is what you needed, an escape into bliss. 

You wake up again at 12. 

Stretching wide, you exhale a yawn. A bath would do good now. Your hair probably wasn’t completely free of food anyway. 

You take off your shirt in front of the mirror, revealing a few bruises on your back, knees, and thighs. These most likely occurred when you fell to the floor a few times after being tripped. They're tender, but nothing too big. You didn’t want to think of it now anyway. 

The warm water envelops you and you draw out a whispered moan. You stay like that for who knows how long until you're aggressively scrubbing all the smells out of your hair. You lean against the rim, lids closing blissfully. 

The next time you open your eyes you feel groggy. You don't know what time it is. Your fingers and toes are all soggy, and the water isn’t hot anymore.

You drag yourself to bed after drying off, closing the door to seal the darkness in. A buzz vibrates your phone, and you pick it up, tiredly blinking at the brightness. It was probably your mom trying to see if you were okay. 

“When do you want to finish the project?” 

Why would your mom text that? 

You scroll to see the name Miya Atsumu, and you stare for what feels like a minute before finally gasping.

You didn't actually expect him to go for it and text.

What do you say? You begin typing, then stop, then start, then stop.

Tomorrow? The weekend? Monday? No day in reality makes a difference. You just don't want to work with him.

A part of you is relieved you wouldn't be doing the rest of the project alone, but another side is terrified at the idea.  

You bite your lip and write “Tomorrow..?" 

Maybe that was too direct, maybe you should’ve sent a "haha", or a "anytime that works for you."

What if he’s not available Friday? What if you just assumed? No no, it should be fine, he asked you, besides, it isn’t going to be a hangout, just a quick 1-2 hour session of working.

You groan, your brain going into circles. The anxiety that fled you today begins revisiting in vicious waves. You’re going to go to school tomorrow and he’d ask you the same question if you don't text back. You can’t avoid him, nor the deadline. The girls will pick on you again, you won’t be able to have lunch, you’ll be hungry, you’re about to be kicked off the volleyball team, everyone hates you, every-  a notification makes you blink to reality.

Miya Atsumu: “Sure. Time?” 

You let out a shaky exhale and type, “Whatever is fine with you.” 

Miya Atsumu: “6 pm, after practice.” 

6 pm?? That was a bit late.

You’re about to type a denial until you remember that you're the one who said whatever is okay. You can’t just complain now. 

“Sounds good.” 

He doesn’t respond. A few minutes pass and you’re still staring at the screen. Fretfully you type, “.. where.?” 

A bubble pops up, then disappears. You’re anxiously biting your lip, waiting. The bubble comes up again, jumping for a few seconds then going away. You hold your phone to your chest and groan, your other hand draping across your forehead. You hope it’s somewhere decent, really the scariest thing he can say is "My place."

A few tantalizing minutes pass and you hear a ding.

Miya Atsumu: "Wherever you want.” 

That response didn't settle your nerves at all. Why did you have to pick? 

Hovering over the letters on your phone, you think hard. 

Your place won't be as nerve-wracking as his, and besides it’d be weird if you text that anyway, like “Hey let’s go to your house.” Not only would you just be dealing with him but a duplicate as well. (Though you heard Osamu was a bit nicer.) Still, they probably live in some fancy house with a beautiful mom who makes amazing food. If he comes to yours he'd probably be judgemental as it was nothing lavish.

Where else could you pick? The library? It's a lot more peaceful and less scary than your house. Here, you imagine him, arms crossed, judging your stuffed animals and colorful sheets, saying, "What are you, a kid still?" 

A shiver runs down your spine. 

But in the library, Kiyoko and other girls are bound to be working on their projects as well.  

Nowhere was safe but your home, and besides you had your mother and father there if anything went wrong. Mustering up all the courage you write.

“You can come to my house..?” No that sounded too provocative. 

Holding the delete button, the sentence is wiped. 

“What about my house?” 

Too direct, what if it comes up rude or even flirty?

“We can go to the library?” No that sounds like you're avoiding the situation now. 

You hover over “Maybe-“ then delete. Too indecisive. “How about-“ too decisive. “What about-“ too shy.

It’s already been more than a few minutes and the phone buzzes impatiently.

Miya Atsumu: “Well?” 

The fear in your stomach is worse than when the girls would bully you. Which is ridiculous considering you're only sending a text. 

What if he shows it to all his friends and makes you a laughingstock? 

You ease your stammering. Relax (Y/n). No one can harm you here. You're not gonna hear his laughs directed at your face. You’re home in your safe space. It’s just you, and it’s just a text. 

"My house?" You press send and hold your breath. A minute passes and now the doubt explodes in you again.

God, why did you type that? That sounds way worse than the other ones, it's almost creepy even. You stuff your face into your pillow and groan loudly. 

A soft vibration takes you out of the self-loathing cycle, and it reads, Miya Atsumu: "Sure." 

Your heart pounds and anxiety floats into your stomach as you think of tomorrow.

You wish you used your sick day for then.

Although in the end, it wouldn't have made too much of a difference. It's bound to happen. At least you had until tomorrow to plan, to think what you were going to wear, and what spares you would bring for whatever was going to be dunked on your head. 

You hear the front door open and close. Your mom always gets home first. You're timidly stumbling down the stairs when she sees you. 

 "Hey, sweetie. Are you feeling better?" She hangs her jacket up and takes off her shoes. 

"Oh- Yeah.. um.. so.." your lips purse as she strides into the kitchen, already planning on dinner even if exhausted. You appreciate that. You just wish you had the guts to tell her what happened to those cooked meals at lunch. 

She grabs a pack of spaghetti and fills a large pot of water to boil. She raises an expectant brow.

"Yes?" 

You fidget, averting your gaze. "Um.. so I have a project due Tuesday… it's with a partner.. but our teacher is not allowing any more time in class. So-" 

"Oh okay, yeah, that's fine. When do you want her to come?" She grabs a few spices and herbs while talking, and you nervously clear your throat. 

"It's.. a guy.." She halts for a moment and you can see her mull over your words. 

You continue hesitantly, “So... he's coming tomorrow around 6, you know.. after practice usually ends." It's silent for a few seconds and you're pursing your lips, scared. 

There's a bright beam stretching her lips wide. 

Oh no, it was either this reaction or disgust. You didn't even know which you wanted. 

You start again, mainly to cut off whatever she was going to say. 

"By the way.. you don't have to pack lunch for these next few days." She raises a thoughtful look.

"Why? Have you been dropping it lately? Do you not like it? Is that you've been smelling like it when you come home?" 

Tensely giggling, you curl your hair behind your ear. "No Mom.. I just.." You trail off, unable to think of a perfect excuse. Nothing to resemble reality. Eventually, her lips curl again. 

"Ah.. so it's all to do with that boy."

What? 

You're surprised, rushing to stammer out a no, but she's set in her thoughts.

"I've been wondering why it's emptier than usual, you've been sharing it with him, hm?" She has that trail in her tone as if she caught you. 

"No! A friend has just been giving me some of there's so I haven't been able to eat mine." She laughs and your face is pink. 

"Ah I see, so you've been swapping lunches? How cute" You huff at this reasoning, giving up.

Maybe you should just let her believe this anyway. It'd make her happy.  

"Nothing’s happening with us Mom, we're just school partners. He's not even all that nice, you know," you mutter that last part to yourself. 

She snickers. "Men struggle with their emotions a bit more than we do when it comes to love-" 

You shout, "It's not love!" 

She waves her hand, gesturing for you to calm down. "Right right, well maybe he's just struggling to convey it to you." Huffing again, you cross your arms. That's not it. She's not listening to you, and you sigh angrily. Seriously, if only she knew. 

"I promise you, Mom, that's not it, just believe me okay? We're going to do the project and that's it, he won't be here ever again.." You pause, then point accusingly toward her. "And no being weird!" 

"Fine fine, I’ll act normal don't worry, I would hate to embarrass you in front of your crush." 

"Ugh, just.. no lunch tomorrow please!" 

You squeak out an awkward "thank you!" and she hums, a grin still lingering. 

Stomping off to your room, you lightly slam the door and stuff your face into the pillow. You could hear the front door open again, and you're sure your mother is now going to start talking about this mystery "crush" to your father.

You let out a frustrated sigh. 

[notthecutesttrash]

From One To Another

Soulmate AU

Content: Chrollo Lucilfer is your soulmate. However, you know that he is a criminal and you reject him. You have a boyfriend to still prove love can be real outside the birthed bonds, but he’s just as bad.

Trigger warnings: 18+ Dark, lots of mentions of graphic abuse, slight smut towards the end, little nipple-play, language

Word count: 8.06k

As a child, it always meant the world to you that one day you would be fated to meet someone. Someone who was meant for you in every possible way. Maybe you’d argue, sure, that was apparent by being with your mother and father. Still, that person would be your all, your soul, your everything. 

You saved yourself for years, refusing any possible relationship even if you desperately wanted to be held, to be kissed, to be loved. You knew it would be worth it when you met him.

A man named Chrollo Lucilfer. 

And your heart shattered when one day you turned on the news and found his name printed on a bounty sheet for no small amount of Jenny. 

At first, you tried to believe with everything in your heart that it wasn't true. Your soulmate wouldn't be a criminal, not yours. Especially when it was claimed he was part of a group called the Phantom troupe that killed not only dozens but hundreds. It just made you sick thinking of it. 

Maybe he hadn’t killed anyone, it was only his group members. Maybe he was forced to be with them and they threatened him when he sought to escape. Maybe they only steal because they’re in desperate need of Jenny. Maybe.. just maybe he wasn’t evil. 

Tears poured out of you weeks after you found the news, just thinking of all that you had dreamed of as a child withering to dust. You would have no sweet and shy interaction, no beautiful story you would tell the table. No happy marriage, no children, no.. love. 

There were stories of people who have gone through similar experiences, survivors of terrible soulmates. Even if fate meant it to be, all weren't perfect, many were far from, some pure evil. There would be no balance without it. But why did it have to be yours? Why did you have to have the evil one? Because someone had to, right? But.. why? 

For all that you had avoided, you ended up in the same situation you had sworn not to be a part of, soulmate or not. Simply put, your boyfriend is a piece of shit. Why were you with him in the first place? You didn’t know. You believed it was to prove yourself and others wrong, that pure love between two fatefully unmatched people can work just the same. You were hopeless. 

You would never find love within someone else, and you would never with your soulmate. Even if he was the nicest person alive- you stopped yourself there and scoffed. So nice that he murders or even sits idly by as a bystander. Fat chance he was nice, one way or another they're all the same. 

You sit on the couch attempting to watch a movie, while your boyfriend ushers around all drunk and stupid. His hand grabs the handle of the fridge and slings it open, reaching for another beer. “Don’t you think that’s enough?” You catch his attention and he lifts himself to look at you, raising a brow. 

“What’d you say?” He has an edge to his voice, but you repeat as you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I said. Don’t you think, that’s enough?” 

“And who are you to say? Fucking bitch.” He hiccups and slurs, “You’ll gladly have a glass or two with your friends, but I can’t have a few beers?” Arguing with him is useless. A glass or two does not equate to being outright drunk on a “few” beers that lay around the kitchen floor. Of course, all for you to clean up later. You shake your head to yourself, making sure he didn’t see. It’s been happening on repeat, and every night as you lay beside him, his hands all over you as he spoons your forcefully into him, you think, is this worth it? Maybe being with a criminal is better. Or really.. no one at all. 

But you couldn’t leave, he still loved you. Did you love him..? Or was this all a show to just have someone’s arms around you at night? He slumps on the couch, his arm pulling your shoulders so you can scoot even closer to him. Complying, your knee touches his own as you get close. He takes a swig of his beer and rests his feet on the coffee table. His socks alone smell like something died, and you say nothing as his breath full of beer comes into your space. His tongue licks up your neck and you wince. 

“Can you stop… I’m trying to watch this.” In reality, you weren’t watching, it was hard to. You were so focused on your surroundings, flinching at any little loud sound he made before he sat. 

“Ah come on, you know you love it.” You hated that cocky attitude, god you hated him, but he was right, it did cause a tingle in between your legs. He licks up to your ear again, even biting your earlobe. It was too hard and you yelp, pushing away instinctively. 

“Stop… I’m serious, please. I just want to watch this.” You gesture to the movie screen and turn to it completely. He hates being ignored. His hand grabs your chin harshly and he forces you to look at him, a glare zoning in on his eyes. 

“I want it.” He growls as if that was supposed to make you bow down to him. You wished you had the courage inside of you to shout, I don’t, but there was a clench in your throat. Before you knew it, you were on your back with him over you. His hand lifts your shirt to show your breasts, and his hand grabs you too hard again, and you hiss. 

“Stop-“ his hand covers your mouth, and he dives down to your neck, his lips attaching to your skin. You kick him in the groin, and he groans out, clutching himself. You take this moment to rush to put on your coat and shoes. 

Your voice begins shouting as it does almost every night, and every night you do the same thing, you grab your coat and shoes, and you threaten to leave, sometimes you even do, but it was rare he’d let you out the door. Then in the morning, you’d be all cozy together again, he’d grab your waist while you make him coffee, kissing your ear and giggling sweet nothings. 

“I’m done with this, I’m fucking out of here, I can’t take this anymore.“ You make sure to be as fast as possible, and you sling your bag around your shoulder and rush to leave. He’s on you in an instant, pulling your arm away from the doorknob forcefully. Suddenly you’re choked and slammed against the wall. 

“You’re not going anywhere, you got that?” His grip becomes tighter, and you raise your leg to do the same kick, but even in his drunken state, he’s able to grab it with his other hand. Still, he was weaker in this position and you push him off you with all your might. Again you turn to leave but you are swiftly pulled back by your hair. His fist was clenched tight around your strands, even ripping a few out as you screamed. 

A blow is landed at your stomach and you nearly hurl on the floor. He punches the side of your face, and your eyes are forced shut at the impact. It began twitching and you were sure that would leave a black eye. You’re shoved to the floor and his hands grab your arms, his body over you again. “Get away from me!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, flailing around. You were sure the neighbors heard, but they never did anything about it.  

“Don’t touch me!!” 

His fingers began toying with you, slurring mumbles as he tiredly kissed your neck. Again you manage to jab your knee into his stomach and as he recoils you run to the bathroom, slamming it shut and locking the door. Tears fell from your face as you held your throbbing head, ears ringing at the blow. The door shook as he pounded on it, screaming your name and shouting at you to open up or else. “Open the fucking door (Y/n), open it! Open the fucking door!” 

“I swear to god if you don’t open up right now-“ You cradled yourself in the bathtub, closing your ears from it all until it became nothing but mumbles. Flinching at every time he pounded, you continued crying. You were terrified the hinges would fly off, the door would be broken down, and you would have no protection whatsoever. ‘I can’t do this, I can’t do this anymore.’ 

Eventually, it would pass, as it always did. He’d pass out somewhere, whether it be the floor, the couch, the bed, wherever, and you’d be scared to remove yourself from the safety of the bathroom, for fear he would wake up and kill you.

You slept in the bathtub and woke up with a pain in your head, eyes dizzy to the flickering light that stayed on. Groggily you grabbed onto the rim of the tub and attempted to pull your shaky sore legs out. When you saw yourself in the mirror, you assumed right. There was a big purplish black bruise around your eye, even a red hand mark around your neck. You pulled your pants down to find a few bruises on your legs. Probably from falling, or maybe these were from the other days, you don’t remember.  

You couldn’t take this anymore. 

But you couldn’t leave. You had your life here, but most of all, you hated to restart, to find someone all over again, you wouldn’t be able to do it. So you felt hopeless as you splashed water on your face and cleaned yourself. You pulled out your makeup palette used only for covering bruises. When you opened it the area surrounding the center was sunken in, and metal showed up as holes in your foundation. You were running out, you needed to get a new one soon.

Grabbing your sponge, you pressed it gently into your eye, wincing at the pain. You needed to get ready for work because someone had to pay the bills around here. Next was your neck, and after that, you looked normal again, perfectly robust and healthy. Opening the door, a weight slid off and thudded onto the ground, your boyfriend’s head. He was passed out, snoring, hands sprawled out on the floor. You simply sidestepped in the gaps of his body to walk around him. You couldn’t care to brush out your messy hair, and you were sure most of the shedding was a fault of him yanking it too hard. Better not to let anyone see your scalp anyway. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder as your stomach rumbled. Was there enough time to get some breakfast before you headed to work? You checked your phone. You were a bit on the early side so that was a yes. Besides, it’d be nice to eat alone and get a new atmosphere besides beer cans that littered the ground. And at least the coffee shop wouldn’t smell like barf. 

You shut your door to see the woman at the apartment next to you, grabbing her keys to lock her door behind her. She gave you a look, and you walked passed her to the stairs. “(Y/n) right?” She suddenly spoke, and you turned to her. A nervous expression was on her face, and she pursed her lips, staring down. “Listen… I’m sorry- my husband told me to not get involved.. but.. are you okay?” A spike of defensive anger got to you, but for the most part, it was mixed with shame, a pathetic embarrassment filled you. Was this really what you chose? A life that your neighbors have to feel scared for you and ask if you're okay?

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry.” You fake smiled and waved. “I hope you have a good day.” When you walked down the stairs it fell. Attributes of working in customer service. A sigh left you as the brisk air hit you, and you walked to your destination. You couldn’t afford a car, but it was fine, everything was close anyway. 

At work today you were in charge of helping the new trainee. A nice guy it looked like, someone who was awkward and didn’t want to make anyone go through a hassle for him. You wished you at least had a guy like that. “Press this if you want to open the register. The system here will tell you how much to give them, fairly simple right?” He nodded, and you assorted through all the cash. It wasn’t a hard job, and you didn’t really care or not if someone was over your shoulder watching. Anything was better than home. 

The door dinged as someone entered. An enthusiastic woman greeted you. 

“Good morning! How can I help you today?” 

“Hi, can I just have a small black coffee and um.. hm.. a grilled cheese I suppose.” She smiled and you nodded, politely returning the gesture. She handed you the jenny and you looked over your shoulder to show the trainee what exactly to do. How to ring up a specific or basic order. You had him bring up the option so he could show her the amount due. The woman waited patiently, smiling, and he was nervous, cheeks flushed as he struggled to find the grilled cheese. You eventually pointed it out to him, tapping above it as if to give him a gentle hint. 

“Sorry about that,” he spoke politely once he finally rang it up. 

“Don’t worry, I’m in no rush.” She smiled prettily and removed her wallet from her purse. After handing in the exact amount, you placed it in the register and closed it. Easy enough. 

“You’re all set, it should be out in about 5 minutes.” She nodded and waited on the side where the finished orders were placed. 

You begin speaking to your coworker again, explaining all the sorts of foods or combinations you can order, and how they have to be specifically rung up to be recognized in the system. “Let’s say if someone wants a salad, but no tomatoes, simple, you just go here, then here, press customizations, and remove the option. Either press on the picture or the word ��TMTS” you following?” The man nods, even though confused, he is determined, and so you let him take the reins. 

“Whenever you need any assistance just let me know, i’ll be helping out with the food while Marley does the drinks, okay?” 

“O-okay,” he stutters as he tries to adjust. 

“Have a nice day!” The woman calls out, walking off with her items. You smile and respond in kind, inwardly sighing. 

The door rings, and you’re too busy prepping the table to see who walks in. You just hoped they would go easy on the trainee. 

“Is this really necessary?” One had a deep voice, and he was very tall and muscular, you could see that from just your peripheral vision alone. 

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out, are you kidding me? We were running extra rounds until 3 am.” You couldn’t see how the others looked as they were directly behind you, but it didn’t matter anyway. 

“Hello, how can I help you guys today?” The trainee spoke, nervous but outwardly confident, face masked with a smile. You hummed in approval, that’s a good step.

“Let me get a- hm… what is that, a BLT?” One of the men asked, pointing to the menu, eyes squinting. 

The trainee turned and nodded. “Yes.” 

“Alright, lemme have one of those, you want anything?” Assumedly he makes a gesture to the others around him, however many they were. The price rings up after a few moments of him slowly looking up the name. 

“Sheesh that’s a bit of Jenny for just a sandwich don’t you think?” You sighed, this time a little more audibly, but not enough for anyone to hear. You already knew how this was going to go.

“Got any beers here?”  

“Um…” The trainee panics a little, looking for the name on the screen. He doesn’t see it, but before making a definite answer, he looks at the menu himself. But before he can say “no” the other man scoffs. 

“What, you don’t know if you got it or not? Dont’cha work here?” 

Glancing at the register, he gives you a nervous expression as if hoping you’d save him. You pull away from the prepping area and gesture over your shoulder, signaling for him to swap places. You’ll deal with it for now.  

“Don’t worry about it,” You say to him more than anything as he walks away a little defeated. 

“Okay, what can I help you guys with?” You speak a little more firmly this time, but your fake smile remains. It was a group of 3, one large buff fuzzy man, one blondie with a furrowed expression, and a monotone man with slicked-back hair and grey eyes. It was a strange group you admitted, but you tried not to be rude and stare. The tall guy spoke his specifically long order which was more than a few sandwiches, while the other had a combo, and the one in the coat only wanted a tea. You were glad you took on this group, no doubt they would be shouting slurs at the second mess-up and making the poor guy sputter apologies only half a minute in.

“Is that all I can do for you guys today?” They answered yes, and you smiled as you stated their total. They pulled out their wallets and when the one with black hair angled his wrist towards you, money in hand, your fingers instinctively reached over to grab it. That was until you saw the name on his wrist, and you stopped dead in your tracks. Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes went wide. (Y/n) (L/n). No, this couldn’t be. It wasn’t real. 

“Is something wrong?” He tilted his head after a long pause, and you inhaled sharply, swiftly grabbing the jenny. The other two gave each other a sort of look, brows raised as they handed you the rest. The one in front of you, the one who was supposed to be your soulmate didn’t say anything, nor did he have a reaction, his face remained the same, and you were sure because of that he didn’t notice anything wrong. 

Besides, even if you knew it was him, he wouldn’t know it was you. You tried to reassure yourself. Your wrist was covered in wraps. They’d never know, so you can’t seem suspicious, not now.

“No, I’m so sorry about that.” Clearing your throat, you quickly arranged the register and handed the change off. “Your orders will be ready in 10-15 minutes or so, okay?” The tall man grumbled, and you gestured faster than ever for the trainee to switch back with you while you nearly hyperventilated making stupid fucking sandwiches. All the while you could feel their stare burning in your back. 

“Are you okay?” Marley then asks and you nod. All you had to do was relax. You’re used to having to lie about this, so it’s no big deal.

But why does this time seem ten times harder than usual? 

“Yeah, of course.” He looks at you in a way as if he knows you’re lying but shrugs it off. You place the order on the counter for them to pick it up, attempting to make zero eye contact as they come close. You meet his gaze, those grey orbs that fixate on you calmly. You almost stare a little too long, before you clear your throat again and push forward the food for them to take. Once they did, that was it, they would walk out just like that and you wouldn’t see them ever again. Your soulmate is officially gone. 

But what if that wasn't the case?

Quelling the anxiety, you nervously trail their steps as they start to walk out of the shop. And when they finally do, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. 

When you clocked out, exhaustion burned into your temples. Thinking of going home to speak to your boyfriend already set you in a horrible mood. There was a chance he was in a good one, but still, you’d have to deal with the fact that you just met your soulmate after all these years of being with your boyfriend. Whether he was a murderer, a criminal, or not.. that man was fatefully supposed to be with you instead.. and truthfully it hurt a little in your chest. But maybe it was for good, again, he was not a good guy, and if you did get together, it probably wouldn’t be all that different from your current situation. Try to be realistic, you told yourself. Just because the word soulmate is slapped onto someone, it doesn’t mean it’s all fairytale love. 

You just needed time to breathe, just a little. Maybe you’d regret it, but right now, you needed it. You made sure to take your time walking home, even getting yourself a little snack from the bakery and eating there while you contemplated. Forty minutes passed, and then you made it home. You paused at the doorway, your hands lingering above the doorknob a little too long. Inhaling, you rotated it and entered. 

Your boyfriend’s voice rang out, not at all happy. “Where were you?” Good news at least, he wasn’t drunk, but did that really matter? There was a time when you thought it did, but not anymore. 

“I just went to get something at the bakery. Look.” You pulled out a cute little pink-wrapped box that revealed a muffin inside. You didn’t want to buy it. But you knew you would need to show proof. Still, even then it would amount to nothing. 

“Bakery hm? With your new boyfriend huh?” With the stress you had today of meeting someone you never thought to, this struck a nerve more than it had ever. You were not at all in the mood. 

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay?” Your tone was firm, and you removed your jacket, stomping off into your room. Unfortunately, it was his too, and you could get no privacy as he didn’t even let the door close to follow you in. 

“Why huh? Cause it’s true? I knew you would fucking cheat, you’re a dirty whore.” He continued on a bout of slurs, gesturing to you angrily and even poking you in your chest. All you wanted to just do was lie down and calm the overstimulation in your mind. Why was it so fucking hard.. to just relax? Breathing becoming heavy, you were struggling more and more to calm down. The anger was getting to you. You were so sick of this you could scream. 

Your hands shook from the adrenaline as you set your bag down, removing your scarf, and other work accessories. Your headache was pounding the more he raised his voice. Suddenly his hand touched your shoulder with a hard grip, and every bit of restraint you had exploded. 

 “I JUST DON’T WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS RIGHT NOW OKAY?! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” You rushed off into another room, slamming the door behind you. He followed, shouting threats and slurs, and you picked up the nearest object you could, a beer can, a shoe, whatever it was, and repeatedly threw. It wasn’t with much force, but you just hoped the amount of items could deter him. A fury only doubled in his eyes as he ran after you. 

He was screaming, threatening to kill you, harm you, do whatever if you did not make your way back that instant. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t do it anymore. “I HATE YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE!” You shouted at the top of your lungs. 

It was only so big of an apartment, and eventually, he made his way to you. With not much force, you kicked him in the stomach. He recoiled by punching your cheek hard, but not enough to make you collapse. You screamed as he threatened to kill you again, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” You kicked him and threw just about anything that you had, and shoved him in his chest hard when he tried to get near you as you attempted to run to the bathroom. 

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” He shouted. This time you were sure he was serious. He grabbed a kitchen knife from the block and held it threateningly towards you. 

Gasping in fear, your tone changed to barely above a whisper, shaky but with a hard attempt to be firm. “Get the fuck away from me… I’m serious, don’t.. don’t fucking touch me, get away, or I’m calling the police.”  

“Yeah, and how are you going to do that?” He taunted, knowing well that your phone was in the bedroom, just where he was blocking. Swallowing harshly, you remained still, unsure of your next move, scared if you ran he might just swiftly catch up and pierce you. 

“I wasn’t cheating, I just needed a moment to myself, all I did was go to the bakery, okay?” You tried to patiently reason, even if you secretly knew it wouldn’t do anything. He scoffed. 

“Yeah? Tell that to all your other fucking boyfriends, piece of shit.” He gestured to you with the knife in hand, and suddenly dove. You ran for the bathroom as quickly as you could, but this time he knew what you were planning. Suddenly you met with the floor, your head slamming and bouncing against the hard tiles. Scramming to your feet, he kicked your leg hard and shoved your head down so you would meet the tiles again. This time you heard a crack and felt warm liquid rushing down the back of your head. 

You began thrashing and screaming at the top of your lungs when he neared. “SOMEBODY HELP ME! HELP ME!” Disoriented, he choked you hard enough to stop all cries, so hard you had no doubt he would truly kill you this time. Your mouth opened to get a breath, but nothing would come. Your hands were struggling to get him off of you. 

 “You useless bitch- what are you good for? Nothing-“ 

“I think I heard enough.” A sudden voice interrupted, lessening the hold of the man atop of you. It being enough to make you breathe, you gulped the air instantly. It was silent for a moment before your boyfriend cussed out. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Who the fuck are you? And how did you get in my goddamn apartment?” 

The weight over you vanished, and you didn’t care what happened, who, when, or where, you ran. Slamming the bathroom door shut and locking the door, you cradled yourself in the tub, the lights off as you shuddered silently. It was quiet at first, so quiet, something you weren’t used to save for the ringing in your ears. Blood droplets fell at the back of your neck and when you touched it, tears formed. Why would you do this? Why would this happen? 

You heard your boyfriend screaming violently, a scream you never ever heard him make. It was as if his life depended on it. Something in you felt horrified, guilty, and scared, but you didn’t want to go out, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t know what was happening if he was just making an act, or if he was coming towards you. But you wouldn’t open the door, not until he fell asleep. Then you could leave, this time forever. You didn’t care anymore. Tears fell in silent streams for a few seconds, then they became so strong you sobbed violently. 

“What the hell- what the hell is that?!” Your boyfriend shouted nonsense at whatever it was. He’s delusional, he’s gone insane, it’s over for you. 

Eventually, all stilled, it became quiet again. You were whimpering in your hands, hiccuping, body shaking uncontrollably. You heard the lock click as it shifted, and a slow creak as the door opened. He had found a way in, he was going to kill you, and you were cornered. You kept your eyes covered, terrified, sobs shifting into screams as you heard the footsteps. They were slow, step by step. You didn’t want to die, you didn’t want to die. Step. He was in front of you now, if you opened your eyes, he would be there just above you, a knife in his hands, a horrible glint in his eye as he stabbed you lifeless. 

But what you did not expect was the man to coo at you, to ease your cries.

“Sh…” you flinch as a hand rubs at your head, patting kindly away at your gnawing migraine. Your boyfriend wasn’t usually this sweet, you were sure any second now he’d be pulling at your hair and gesturing the knife to your throat. But it didn’t come. 

When your body finally stops rampantly shaking, and your sobs are almost quelled, you lift your head only slightly, enough to peek through your fingers. Although it was dark, and your eyes took a bit to adjust, you noticed that wasn’t what your boyfriend would wear. But the clothing.. did somehow look familiar. 

Your hand slowly fell to look at the figure above you. When your eyes meet, a different type of ice-cold fear strikes you. Grey emotionless eyes that even you could see in the darkness. Or well, you couldn’t say emotionless, they did look.. a bit… dark actually.. and scary. He didn’t furrow his brows like a normal person, nor did his eyes widen, but you couldn’t explain the terrifying look he had in them. They softened instantly to a neutral state and you gawked confusedly.  

What could you say? 

What are you doing here? Who are you? (even if you knew the answer to that). How did you find me? Hello. 

Your bottom lip trailed into your teeth, tears still streaming. You looked pathetic. Surely all your cries washed away the makeup, allowing him to see the bruises that littered your face. Who could ever love you like this? Not even a criminal. 

“I’m going to take care of you now.” Your soulmate spoke, and as much as it maybe should’ve calmed you, (maybe if your soulmate was anyone else), it only caused further crying. Then you paused, remembering. 

“Wh-What did y-you do to him?” 

He tilts his head. “You worry for him?” 

You nod slowly. 

He hums and walks over to the light switch, flicking it on. Recoiling, you rush to hide yourself, squinting at the light that now buzzes above you. “Perhaps you should look at yourself more clearly.” 

Your legs were still covered in bruises, blood was dripping down your neck slowly, falling beneath your shirt, and your eyes were wincing in pain. But yet you still worried for him. 

You gazed at his wrist, feint black words that you couldn’t see because of your dizzy eyesight. You just wanted someone so bad you would settle for anything. He was right. Still, how could your conscience take someone’s death or pain on your behalf? 

You shook your head, shaking the disposition of your thoughts. Your breath hitched when he reached his palm out to you, and there you could see it again. Your name across his wrist in fine black ink. “How.. how did you know it was me? I-I had it covered.” 

“Your reaction was obvious. Plus, your name.” You were confused, your name? No one had- oh. Just before they walked out the door the trainee called out your name, requesting further help on the machine. 

But you guessed it didn’t matter anymore. You whispered pathetically, your eyes meeting his again. “Are you going to kill me?” 

“No. You’re my soulmate. We belong together, I will give you all you want from here on.” You couldn’t help but scoff. He was a murderer, a criminal. His hand touched your cheek to turn you towards him. You recoiled fearfully, pushing away from his touch. Upon looking closer at your black eye you felt his tone shift, even if his demeanor didn’t show it. 

“I wouldn’t let anyone touch you like this again, you can have my word.” 

You don't even know why you tried to reason with a murderer. But you were desperate. 

“Promise?” Your weak voice muttered out. 

“I do.”

You nod and take his hand. He pulls you to your feet effortlessly, even if your legs wobble and ring out in pain. You hissed quietly as you stepped out of the tub. Your legs were sore and stiff, and your head throbbed. You were beginning to get dizzy and you could feel the nausea coming to your throat quickly. Covering your mouth, you rushed to your knees at the front of the toilet and vomited to your heart’s content. Everything you had this day went down the dump. Tears streamed down your cheeks again. You bit your lip, your hands still bracing the sides of the toilet, your heart pacing wildly. You looked to your soulmate.. to Chrollo Lucilfer, and you bit your lip.

“You won’t hurt me?” He took a moment to respond which worried you. 

“Intentionally, no. I will not.” That didn’t really help, but I guess if that meant he wouldn’t try to stab you in the middle of the night, it would suffice. You did believe his words, but still, something seemed amiss. Maybe it meant, no, unless you try to escape and tell on me to the cops. 

“Come.” He took his hand out to you again.

“Where are we going?”

“Your new home. You’re going to live with me, and you won’t have to work from now on.” Those words made you fearful until he kept going. “I’ll provide for you.” A flutter warmed your heart. Someone who would provide for you… someone who would finally take care of you instead. That made you happy. 

You lifted yourself, and he stepped to the side so you could wash yourself at the sink. It was an even more pathetic sight than last night. Blood was dripping down the side of your head, and it hurt to the touch. Still, you washed it away and began getting out your palette so you could cover up the wounds. 

“What are you doing?” Chrollo asked, and you turned to him, confused. 

“Well.." Pausing for a few seconds, you continued. "I have to look presentable. If people saw me walking with you... with a bruised eye, they’ll assume you hurt me.. and.. well..” you didn't continue that, but you assumed he knew where that was going. 

A swirl of darkness rushed to his eyes as his lips curled slightly into a smile, albeit it was horrifying. “I wouldn’t worry. If anyone attempts to take you from me then-“

“Stop. Please. Just stop.. I don’t want you to hurt anyone.. please… Just.. let me cover myself up.. just for today.. then when I go with you, I will rest up and heal.. okay? Please..” he let out a small exhale and you hold your breath.  

Criminal, abusive, or not, would he ditch you? Toss you to the side when he sees how much you could not stand needless murder or crime? Would you be alone again, with no soulmate, not even a boyfriend now? 

His tone was calm, “I understand. Clean up, I’ll be waiting.” It drew you out of your fixation, and you nervously nodded as he walked out of the bathroom and closed the door after him. As much as you’d love to take a peaceful shower once and for all, you knew he would be waiting, probably upset if you took too long. You ran warm water over your neck and pulled the bloody-stained shirt over your head. Luckily you had enough spare clothes in the bathroom drawers, considering it was like your separate room. 

You repeated the same action from this morning, pressing the makeup to your bruised eye, your neck, the back of your neck, and your throat. 

You would be happy now, right? Was this the last time you’d do this? 

Exhaling a sigh, you put on a clean shirt and left. “I’m ready..” you held your breath, eyes glued to the floor. You expected to be hit, or even see your bloody boyfriend beat up on the floor, passed out. But he wasn’t there in the living room. Weird, you thought. 

Chrollo had his elbows against his knees, and he lifted his head to look at you. “Any last valuables you need to take?” 

Your clothes maybe, but the thought made you uncomfortable. Maybe you should just start over new, remove anything from the present .. but you would have to buy back everything, and with what money? You definitely weren’t using his. You just met him. And now that you think of it, he still kind of broke into your place. 

“Um..” you awkwardly stood, staring at him. You opened your mouth to speak but shut it. “N-No.. it’s okay.. we can go now.” 

“Don't worry about small items, I will let you buy everything you need." 

He walked to your front door, and you stilled. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Walking off with a man you just met, soulmate or not, away from the place you lived for years with your boyfriend who was probably beaten to a pulp.. somewhere.. maybe in the bedroom.  

When your foot stepped on the line between the hallway and your apartment, you turned back, worrying. But what if he was okay? You should go back and at least say you’re fine, and that it was going to be okay and apologize.  

“You won’t miss it much longer,” Chrollo stated, and you turned to him, frowning. 

“Can I at least say bye to him?” Chrollo tilts his head at your request, a sudden glimmer in his eye. 

“No. I’m afraid that’s not an option.” You pouted, head lowering at his tone. Maybe it was for the best, he surely only had your best interest at heart. Maybe if you had said bye it would only make you feel guiltier. 

“Okay.. let’s go.” 

He still had that dangerous gleam in him as you walked out of the complex. Though you admitted you felt safer with him than you had with anyone else so far. You didn’t know how he did it, you didn’t know how he broke into your room, how he fended off your abuser, or how he looked perfectly fine. But he rescued you. 

“Is.. is all that really true?” Chrollo turned to you, grey piercing eyes fixating on yours. “That you’re with a group… called the phantom troupe.. that you have killed people… and stolen things?“ 

“Yes, it is.” Your head lowered at the confirmation. Something in you was just hoping it wasn’t, just that little twinge of hope.  

“Do you plan on turning me in?” He asked, unworried. You’d assume someone who had such a big bounty on them would be terrified of getting caught any second. Yet he was surprisingly easygoing. He didn’t believe for a second you could take him on alone and bring him in for a prize, and he was right. 

“No… you’ll probably just kill me if I try..” 

“You misunderstand. You are my soulmate, we are meant to be together. I will not kill you, nor will I ever try. Only if you attempt to run, or act irrationally then I will have no choice but to punish you or anyone else involved. And just be aware, I will not give mercy to others.” 

A sigh leaves you. You guessed that was fair. “What will you do to them?” You secretly knew the result, but you gulped nervously, afraid he would confirm it.

He side-eyes you as he continues walking, and you’re staring, impatiently waiting for him to answer. “Do I need to say something you already know?” 

You shake your head with a frown. It became quiet.

You had lived in a busy city-like area. However, the further you walked, the less that people were now nearby. Lights were flickering, if there were any at all. These new crowds of people looked different, dirty, rude, and suspiciously quiet. 

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared when the alleyways looked like where someone would get murdered and not found for days. For all you knew, you just walked into another killer’s arms, and these were your last moments. 

It was cold, and tears were pricking your eyes from the wind. The one time you forget your jacket. You hadn’t forgotten any other time you stormed out in a fuss, but the one time you had a moment to think, you would forget it. 

Chrollo’s hand touches your shoulder and pulls you into him. “It’s good not to get hypothermia out here.” He smiles, and you blush. You were sure it was just an excuse to get you closer, but you supposed that was what the smile was for. It was genuine at least.. yet the more and more he leads you on, you are certain he might just kill you. Buildings around you were becoming more and more absent, and less and less stable. 

He was quite warm.. for someone with no shirt underneath a coat. Somehow you faintly relaxed into his arm. That was until Chrollo stopped in front of a building, and turned to you. This was it, your time came. 

“I’m not going to kill you.” He spoke as if reading your thoughts. You nodded nervously. 

You wondered if maybe you just had a normal relationship from the beginning you would never continuously fear death in this way. 

It was nice in actuality, his place, even if the outside was disguised as a piece of junk. You supposed this might’ve been the sort of man to not care about looks. But the moment you stepped into the room, he had all sorts of trinkets around that made you nervous. Red eyes floating in a jar, paintings, weapons on display, and whatnot. What if you became one of his collections? The thought made a chill run down your spine. 

It was a bit unsettling here, yet admittedly… something about him felt safe. You should know more than anyone how you cannot trust anyone with a sweet facade. But you had a feeling deep down, that this would be okay. The bedroom was nice, perfect actually, it even had a bathroom connected to it, and it was hard for you not to be happy at the change of scenery. Maybe this wouldn’t be your forever home, but you could enjoy it for now. 

“Wipe the makeup off your face.” There was a certain demand in his tone, and your heart swiftly picked up in pace. 

“You need rest,” Chrollo gently reasoned after, cutting the awkward silence. 

Your heart quickly calmed in relief.  "O-Okay.." 

The only sound in the area was the warm water pouring from the faucet. All this silence was nice, you could get used to this sort of peace. 

Circling slowly, the makeup ran down your face in streams, revealing that purplish color around your eye. Next was your neck which showed red handprints. This was never fun doing.

Flicking the light off, you strolled back to the room when you were done. Finding only Chrollo’s coat that was lying on the edge of the bed, until you then found him at the corner, sitting. His elbows were against his knees, hands intertwined with one another.. completely shirtless. You spun instantaneously, squeaking at the sight. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” 

“I hope I don’t need to remind you again that we are soulmates. They do sleep together, do they not?” Even with his neverending patience, you feel you could strike a nerve at any moment. Maybe it was sudden, sure. But he was right, you two were fated, there was no shame in looking at just his bare chest. 

you muttered shyly. “They do..”

Chrollo steps behind you, rubbing his palm at your neck. Somehow you didn’t flinch, or feel pain, instead, it felt.. nice. A warm pair of lips kissed at your side, and your stomach fluttered, “And they have sex with one another, don’t they?” He nearly whispered in your ear. You nodded, whimpering at his touch. Your shirt lifted above your chest, bra expertly unclasped so he could squeeze your nipple with his fingers. His tongue trailed up your neck, and he squeezed around your breast again. This felt better than what your past boyfriend could’ve ever done. 

“Hm?” Chrollo mused, waiting for you to answer as he squeezed your nipple again. You moan at the tug.

“Y-Yes..” 

“As I thought.” He pulls away, and you whimper. He almost smirks, pulling the sheets to the side. 

Cheeks flushed, you let out a shaky exhale as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at him. Your hands were lingering at your shirt as if caught between a decision to take it off or not. 

“I wouldn’t think so hard. Eventually I’ll get to know every little crevice of your body, every little part that makes you scream, tick, or cry. Nothing will be kept from me.” Chrollo speaks calmly, yet possessively, with a certain knowing edge in his voice. 

“They’re not..” You pause, breathing out. You throw your shirt over your head and take off your bra so that it falls at your feet. You undo your pants slowly, feeling his eyes on your bruised body. You left your panties on.. because you at least needed that little bit of dignity before you revealed yourself fully to a man you just met.

“They’re not.. covered..” You rotate to him, arms covering your bare chest, eyes to the ground, ashamed. 

Again, there was that glint in his eye. Something malicious, something dreadful.

It was pathetic, but seeing this look in him, made it feel real. You were protected now, he would kill anyone in your wake, and maybe it was awful, but it comforted you.

He moved closer to you and you instinctively tilted your head in a way so that he could not easily see. There was no makeup or shirt to protect you anymore. His two fingers lifted your jaw so he could study the marked skin. Handprints that only should’ve been imprinted on you by his own. 

“Look at me.” 

You timidly blinked up at him, a warm flow of shame spilling in you as you whispered, “I’m sorry." Tears threatened your lids, and you pursed your lips. 

Why were you apologizing? What for? Were you afraid he didn’t like you? Or that maybe he was ashamed of you? He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. 

“Everything is going to be handled. Don't you understand that?” 

Although you were fearful at that sentence and unsure what that could mean for all the other poor unfortunate souls out there, you nodded. You were safe. He would protect you now.. everything was going to be okay.. everything was going to be just how you wanted it to be. You could finally be happy now. 

His lips captured yours in a deep kiss. It took only a moment before it became a pleasant exchange between two tongues. His tongue captured yours easily, and you moaned into the kiss as his hands caught your breast again. 

You were shoved onto your back against the mattress, but it was soft, softer than you’d ever felt. Chrollo pulled away leaving you a breathless mess. The scattering bruises came to his attention again, and he nearly ripped your underwear in two. He dove down to lick at your fragile skin, suckling high at your neck. You whimpered, legs surrounding his waist as you felt him poke at your entrance. 

He would show everyone who your body belonged to, whether you liked it or not. 

[notthecutesttrash]

iconic

[notthecutesttrash]

Chris Evans 37th Birthday Celebration (6/13/1981)

+ left boob grab

[notthecutesttrash]

X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009) |  Deadpool 2 (2018)