#gooooood scratchy

[maddieg0531]

Hugs and Kisses

Oikawa x fem!reader

Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Warnings: Creepy guy, unwanted advances, self blame, reaction that indicates past trauma, uncomfy situations

Synopsis: A guy consistently bothers you and when he pushes a little to hard, you don't know what to do with yourself.

Headcanon: Oikawa is a big physical touch person and LOVES hugs

A/N: I'm back from the dead. A few things about this story. First, writers block is real, so if this sucks, my bad. I just needed to get words on a paper (screen ?). Second, ⚠️ this story may be uncomfortable or triggering for certain audiences ⚠️ You have been warned, read at your own risk. Y/N's reaction indicates potential past trauma, so no she isn't just being dumb or dramatic. It's a real response that real people have. Anywaaaaaaaaay, I hope you enjoy! I'm working on some other things (slowly), so stay tuned!

Masterlist

Dating Oikawa is weird. You and Oikawa started dating about a month ago. You have never been a popular kid. You had your friend group and you did your things just like everyone else. You figured dating him would draw a little bit of attention but not this much. As you walk down the hallway — the same hallway you have walked for two years — people stare at you. You focus your eyes on the floor and try to ignore them.  You make your way to Oikawa’s locker, but your lack of attention causes you to run into someone. 

“Oh I’m sorry.” You look up to see the captain of the baseball team looming over you, his muscular body way too close to you.

“It’s always a pleasure seeing you.” He winks at you with a smirk. 

“Uh…” Something about his voices makes you shrink into yourself. You are about to walk away when you feel arms wrap around you.  An involuntary squeak escapes your mouth. 

“Gooooood morning beautiful!” A familiar voice calls as he spins you in a circle. 

You turn to look at him, “Tooru! You scared me.” 

“Sorry that I want to see my wonderful girlfriend.” He says placing a kiss on your forehead. His eyes drift past you to see the large captain behind you, “Oh, hey Hiroto. Sorry, did I interrupt or?”

“No. Not at all.” You quickly reply. 

“Yeah, just saying hi.” Hiroto says with a begrudging tone. He passes by you, brushing your shoulder and hitting Oikawa’s. 

“Man I just don’t understand him.” Oikawa says, shaking his head. 

“Doesn’t matter.” You hug Oikawa, his warm embrace and sweet smell relaxing you. You let out a soft sigh, “I have to go to class.” 

“But I just got here.” Oikawa pouts.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be late.” You press a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll come to practice this afternoon, okay?”

“Okay.” You laugh at Oikawa’s pouty face. He really is just a big puppy.

Grabbing the last of your stuff, you close your locker and turn to go to the gym. Standing right behind your locker door is the same guy from earlier, Hiroto. 

You jump back, “Oh, uh…sorry. I didn’t see you there.” You swing your bag over your shoulder and go to walk around him, but he steps in front of you.

“Hey, if you aren’t busy, you should come to watch baseball practice.” His scratchy voice makes your brain itch.  

“Yeah, uh sorry but I’m going to the gym to watch Tooru practice, so uh…maybe another time.” As you walk away, you scratch your head, trying to get off the weird feeling he gives you.

“Yeah, another time.” He calls after you. 

You walk into the gym and Oikawa immediately runs and hugs you. His warm embrace immediately takes away the weird feeling from before. 

“Hey, love.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

Before you can respond, you hear Iwaizumi yell, “Loserkawa, get over here and warm up!”

Oikawa looks up and pouts. You can’t help giggling at his silly reaction, “You should go warm up.”

“But I wanna hug you.” He whines.

“I appreciate that, but you are supposed to be practicing,” You give him a peck on the cheek, “I will cheer for you on the side.”

“Okay.” Oikawa sulks back over to his team to warm up. You are dating a child.

You watch Oikawa practice and every time he hits a serve he winks at you. You are trying to study, but your book just sits open, while you neglect it to watch your boyfriend show off. 

Coach blows the whistle to mark the end of practice. He calls the boys over for a huddle while you pack up your unfinished homework. Oikawa runs up to you for a hug but you stick your hand out preventing him

“What??” He pouts.

“You’re sweaty. There is no way you are hugging me like that. I’ll go wait outside.” You tease. You walk outside into the cold air, a light breeze blowing pass. You shiver, wishing you had brought a jacket. Maybe you should have taken the hug, at least it would be warm.

“Hey”

You jump and turn around to see Hiroto…again. “Oh uh, hey.”

“You need a jacket?” He asks, offering his, which is also sweaty from practice.

“Um I’m good.” 

“Oh, well, do you want me to walk you home. It’s kinda late.” He takes a step uncomfortably close. 

You back up against the door of the gym, “I’m actually walking home with Oikawa, but uh, thanks..” You try not to sound to uncomfortable. He just stands there staring at you and you aren’t sure what to do. “Um…I’m gonna go…” You open the gym door and quickly walk back inside. 

You speed walk over to Oikawa and tightly hug his arm. 

“Hey, I thought you were waiting outside?” He looks over at you with slight concern.

“I got cold…” You lie, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. 

“Does this mean you will hug me now?” Before you respond, he engulfs you in his sweaty arms, squeezing you tight. 

“Tooru! You’re so gross!” You say that, but you really don’t mind. He makes you feel safe and warm. So for all the teasing, you still welcome the hugs.

You have had weird run ins with Hiroto for a week now. You never knew him before and now he’s everywhere. He makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t tell anyone because you don’t want to assume anything about him. It is probably just you being overly judgmental. Every time you see him, he gets more and more familiar with you. He will stand closer to you, be more forward. He has asked to walk you home several times now and you are running out of excuses. 

Normally you have Oikawa as an excuse to get out of conversations, but he is really busy with preparing for his upcoming tournament. You manage to go the whole school day without running into him. Just when you think you will make it the whole day, you run into Hiroto outside the gym. (You were bringing Oikawa dinner since he would be practicing late). 

“Hey, how are you?” He asks.

“I’m fine.” You respond quickly.

“What are you doing?” 

“Uh, I was just giving Oikawa dinner, since he will be here late.”

“So you are staying here late into the night. That’s kind of rude of him to make you stay.” He suddenly sounds judgmental. You don’t know how to feel about it. 

“No, uh he didn’t make me stay. I’m going home because I want to, not that I don’t want to stay. I would stay but I need to do homework and…” You are cut off by him laughing at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. You don’t have to be so defensive.” He lowers his voice and leans in closer, “although it is kind of cute to see you flustered.”

You feel your stomach flip at the statement, “Well, uh, I have to go now.” You slide past him and start speed walking away. 

Hiroto, with his oddly long legs, catches up easily with you, “I’ll walk you home.”

“No, you don’t need to do that.” You say shakily, not making eye contact.

“Yeah I do. You can’t walk home alone. I don’t know why Oikawa would let you walk home alone. If I had a girlfriend as pretty as you, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.” 

You freeze outside the school gates, debating whether or not you’re going to stay for Oikawa’s practice. Should you go and get him? No, you can’t bother him. He is already stressed out about this tournament. You can’t be a burden. 

“Um yeah, okay. I’ll see you later.” You stare at him, waiting for him to leave. 

He stares back at you, “Well, lead the way.” You just look at him awkwardly, hoping he will take the hint. “Uh, earth to Y/N. Lead the way home.” He waves his hand way to close to your face.

“Why?” Is all you can think of to say.

“I can’t walk you home if you don’t walk home.”

“You don’t need to walk me home.”

“Yeah I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“You aren’t walking home alone. You let Oikawa do it, so why can’t I?”

“Because Oikawa is my boyfriend and you aren’t.”

“Clearly he isn’t a very good one.” He takes a step forward, backing you into the pillar of the school gate, “What do you see in him anyway. He is arrogant and self focused. All he cares about is volleyball.”

“That’s not true!” You pipe out, increasingly scared of his presence.

“Really? Then why isn’t he here to walk you home? Why do you always have to stay late for his practice.” He puts his hand on the brick pillar behind you and leans uncomfortably close to your face. You freeze, “We all know I would be a better boyfriend than him. I can tell you like me, so just forget about him.”

You are scared stiff, his face inches from yours. You want to push him away, scream, run, something, but you can’t move. It’s like you are paralyzed. Suddenly, he closes the gap and smashes his lips against yours. You let out a muffled scream, eyes wide and filling with tears. He pulls away with a nasty grin on his face. You stare blankly past him, unsure of what just happened. 

“Since you won’t let me walk you home, I’ll leave you with that.” He winks at you and pats you on the head before walking away. 

When he is out of sight you crumble to the ground and break down crying. What just happened?

You walk back to your house in tears, confused, uncomfortable, and guilty. How could you have not done anything? Why didn’t you push him away or stop him? When you get home, you immediately take a shower. You scrub yourself, trying to wash away the remnants of him. You sit in the shower drowning in tears, scrubbing so hard that you leave a rash. You end up crying yourself to sleep.

You wake up the next day, drowsy and confused. You hope it was all a dream, until you look at your arm where you left the rash. You almost start breaking down crying again, but you manage to pull yourself together. You are supposed to meet Oikawa today for coffee to study for an upcoming test. How are you supposed to face him? You let another guy kiss you and you have the audacity to casually get coffee. Your phone buzzes on your bedside table, Oikawas name flashing across the screen. You pick up and Oikawa’s smooth voice chimes through the phone, “Hey love, are you alright?” You freeze. How did he know? “We were supposed to meet for coffee at 10 right?” 

You look at the time and it’s 10:15, “Oh crap.”

“It’s okay. I was just texting you and you didn’t respond, so I wanted to make sure you were awake.” You can hear his lovely smile through the phone, his comforting presence washing over you. 

“I’m sorry. I just woke up. I’m on my way.” Your voice sounds hoarse and like someone who has been crying all night.

“Okay, no rush. I’ll be waiting. Love you.” 

“Love you, bye.” 

You jump out of bed and rush to get ready. You throw your hair up, put on some random pair of clothes, and grab an apple before running out the door. Luckily the coffee shop is in walking distance from your house, so you make it there pretty quick. You walk in the door, out of breath and see Oikawa sitting at a table in the corner. His face lights up at the sight of you. You walk over and set your backpack down with a thud.

“Morning love,” He pulls you into a big hug, “You didn’t have to run. You look like you just ran a marathon.” He laughs as you press your face against his chest. The vibration from his laugh is comforting enough to put you to sleep. 

You pull back and sit down, “I’m sorry. I woke up late and I didn’t even realize. I forgot to set an alarm last night.” 

Oikawa cuts you off by squeezing your hand, “Hey, it’s okay. It happens sometimes.” 

You give him a half smile, still worn out from everything. He lifts his hand to cup your face, you instinctively lean into his touch. When you look at him, his face is scrunched up in concern, “Are you okay?”

“What?” You internally start freaking out. And maybe a little externally too. 

“Your eyes are all puffy and you look worn down. You aren’t smiling like you usually do and your voice is quiet and hoarse, which usually means something is wrong. What happened?” 

You are touched that he knows all of these things, but you feel the guilt pound away in your chest. You can’t tell him. It would crush him. But you should. But you can’t. “What, no. I’m fine.” You lie.

Oikawa is not convinced, “Hmm, okay. You don’t want to talk about it. I’ll wait until you want to.” 

He is so good to you and you are so bad for him. You might just break down and cry at his gentle manner, but you don’t. He slides over a coffee cup while you take out your books, “I got your regular.” He smiles.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to.” You blush at his kindness. 

“Sure I did.”

You spend a couple hours studying for your test. With each tick of the big hand, your heart drops further into guilt. There isn’t much conversation save for talking about the test. You don’t make eye contact the whole time. Oikawa’s voice was soft and his touch was gentle. He knows something is wrong but doesn’t want to pry. Once you feel relatively well prepared for the test, you immediately get up to leave. Oikawa stands with you. He opens his arms for a hug, letting you decide if you want to take it or not. You gently lean into his arms, so desperately wanting to spill your soul to him, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. So you opt to linger in his arms for a small moment

He gently pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. He whispers with the utmost care, “Whenever you want to talk, let me know. I’ll be right here.” You stand silent. “It can be 3am or two days from now. I don’t care when, but please call me, text me, talk to me. Don’t suffer through it alone.”

You nod as you reluctantly pull away from his grasp. You turn on your heel and rush out before he see’s you cry. Oikawa dejectedly watches you walk away, having already noticed the tears forming in your eyes. He can only hope that you will come and talk to him later. 

You practically run back to your house, tears flooding down your face. You feel so guilty. You know it’s not your fault, but it kind of is. You didn’t push Hiroto away. You just stood there and let him kiss you. You never said no, you never rejected him. You brought this on yourself and therefore only have yourself to blame. For hours you sit in your room sobbing, overwhelmed, disgusted, and unsure of what to do. You are practically drowning in your tears when you finally can’t take it anymore. You have to do something, tell someone. You have to tell Oikawa. He will be mad and probably leave you, but it is better to rip the bandaid off than let the wound fester. Your hands are shaking as you pick up your phone to text Oikawa. You can’t bring yourself to call him. 

Y/N: Can you come over?

To’ ❤️: Of course 🥰 I’ll be right over

Your eyes eventually dried, probably because you are dehydrated. You get up off your bed, the old springs squeaking as you lift your weight off of it. As you walk pass the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looks like a rats nest and there are tear stains on your cheeks. You look like a raccoon who had a really bad day. However, you don’t have the energy to do anything about it. You go downstairs and pour yourself a glass of water. Lord knows you need it. You open your fridge, hoping to find food, even though you haven’t gone to the store all week. Your stomach screams at you for only having eaten an apple today and then exerting enough energy equivalent to running a marathon. The lack of food in your fridge is almost enough to make you start crying again. As if you needed more help, you hear a soft knock on your door. You drag yourself over not wanting to open it, knowing what awaits you on the other side. Your hands shake as you reach for the door knob. You suck in a large breath and fling the door open. As you see your tall, beautiful, loving boyfriend standing there, you can’t help breaking down sobbing again. All the guilt and confusion and pain comes flooding back into you. Maybe if you didn’t drink that water you wouldn’t have started crying again. Your knees give out under the weight of your sorrow. Oikawa swiftly catches you, immediately pulling you into his arms. His heart snaps in half at the sight of you so broken. 

“Hey shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now.” He whispers, tenderly lifting you off the ground. He closes the door with his foot and walks you over to the couch. Your sobs resound through the room, each one more broken than the next. Oikawa gently cups your face, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, unable to choke out words through the tears. 

“Do you want to sit here and cry?” He asks kindly.

You grab his shirt, holding on so tight your fists are white. You manage to force out some words, “N-no…I…I-I’m…sor-sorry!” 

Oikawa’s face contorts in confusion, “Don’t be sorry. You can sit here and cry and I will comfort you for as long as you want.” You fervently shake your head. Oikawa does his best to decipher your gestures, “No? Do you want to talk?”

You shake your head, trying to force out words. In your effort, you start hyperventilating, everything becoming so overwhelming. 

“Shhh, deep breathe in.” Oikawa breaths in, gesturing for you to follow. You manage a broken breath. “Breathe out…Breathe in…Breathe out.”

You and Oikawa do this for a few minutes (more like Oikawa does it and you try between sniffles). Once your breath has evened out, your sobs become more controllable. 

“There you go,” It’s not fair that Oikawa’s voice alone can calm you down. “Now what were you trying to say?” 

“I…I—“

“Deep breaths, you’ve got it.”

“I…I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” “N-no…you…you aren’t g-getting it.” Oikawa looks at you confused. “I—I….” You start hyperventilating again.

“Shhh, deep breaths. One word at a time. You?” 

“I-I…I cheated on you! I’m so sorry!!! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t want to! It just happened and I don’t know how and I don’t know why I didn’t do anything. He just was there and I froze and-and—“

You have lost all control at this point. You are sobbing, rambling on and on. Your face is buried in his chest, tears drenching his shirt. He’s holding you so gently while you are gripping his shirt so hard. You are shaking and feel like you might throw up. Your head is spinning and you are confused. It’s so much that you can’t process it all. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! You’re so good to me and I’m so terrible for you! I don’t know why you picked me. I’m sorry. I know you probably hate me and want to leave me but please…please!…Please don’t leave.” Your voice trails off, drowned under your tears. You need him so bad. You want to look in his eyes, hear his soft voice, be held in his arms, but you can barely hold yourself up. Oikawa is probably going to leave you. He is going to drop you and walk out. You need him to say something, do something. Even if it is yelling, even if he is breaking up with you, you need to hear his voice. Suddenly, Oikawa pulls you in his lap and hugs you softly against his chest. You freeze. That’s not what you thought he was going to do. Is this his goodbye? Is this it? “I-I…” You try to say something but you just can’t.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” His voice is so warm and comforting. You can feel his heartbeat through his chest as his scent envelopes you. “I don’t know what happened, but you are not in a good headspace to talk about it clearly. So let’s just breathe.” He takes a deep breath, you following suit. “And let’s just sit and calm down for a moment, okay?” 

As he hugs you close to him, you can feel your heartbeat start to match his. Your broken sobs slowly turn into small sniffles. You sit in his arms for you don’t even know how long. Nothing was said, nothing was done. You just breathed together and existed together. You felt the exhaustion of everything hit you like a truck. You curl up small in his arms and feel yourself start to nod off into a much needed sleep.

You wake up on your couch, eyes puffy, your thoughts muddled. It’s dark outside even though it was just midday. What time is it? What happened? You were with Oikawa. You shoot upright. Did he leave you? You look around frantically. You have to apologize…you…you—

“Hey, calm down. I’m right here.” He comes around the couch from the kitchen. You feel the tension in your shoulders release at the sight of him. He sits next to you and you almost instinctively lean your head on his shoulder. But you remember, “I was…we were…talking? Crying? I was apologizing! I—“

Before you can get all lost in your thoughts, he cuts you off, “Calm down, it’s okay. You were upset and we sat and calmed down. You ended up falling asleep because you used so much energy crying. It’s been a few hours. I noticed you had no food, so I ordered some. Do you want to eat? Or do you want to talk?” 

“I want to talk. I need to talk. WE need to talk.” Your eyes are wide, like a deer in headlights. 

“Okay, then let’s talk. Slowly and calmly. One sentence at a time.” He settles you down a bit, knowing your tendency to ramble. “What happened.”

“I’m sorry. I cheated on you and I feel like a horrible person because you are so good to me and I just ruined it.” You can’t bear to look him in the eye.

“What happened? How did you cheat on me?” He asks with a hint of quizzical disbelief. 

“Well he wouldn’t leave me alone and I tried to say no but he kept insisting and then he just, he just kept getting closer and I didn’t know what to do and then I was backed up against the pillar and then he leaned in and he-he kissed me.” You feel yourself shudder at the memory, that disgusting feeling creeping up again. 

Oikawa tries to desperately hold himself together, waiting to hear the full story before going and punching a man, “Hold on. Who is ‘he’?”

“Hiroto, that guy from the baseball team.” 

“And he kissed you?”

“Yes, but I didn’t do anything to stop him. I just froze when I should have shoved him or—“

“Love, this is not your fault.” His voice is light and compassionate, “He approached you, yes?”

“Yes but—“

“No ‘buts’. Just a simple yes or no. Can you do that for me love? I just want to get everything clear.”

You nod with a quiet ‘yes’. 

“You did not want him to approach you?”

“No.”

“You asked him to go away and to leave you alone.”

“Well, not in those exact words, but yeah. I should have been more clear…” You stop yourself before Oikawa does.

“You in some form or fashion attempted to express that you did not want him near you, correct?”

You nod.

“However, he ignored said attempt and then cornered you and forced you to kiss him?” Oikawa’s jaw clenches tighter and tighter with each question.

“Yes…but I should have moved.” “But you couldn’t”

“I didn’t”

“You said you froze, right?”

“Yes.”

“That is a totally normal and valid response to fear. You were backed into a corner and someone—much larger than you might I add—was looming over you. He was in your personal space and violated you. He ignored your signs, ignored your fear, and HE chose to hurt you.” Anger starts seeping out of Oikawa, steam practically fuming from his ears.

“You’re angry. I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad.” You start to shrink into yourself again, tears threatening to come back out. 

Oikawa realizes his mistake and immediately softens up again, “No, no. I’m mad yes, but not at you. I’m mad at him for being such a terrible person and for hurting my princess.” He pulls in his lap again, your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you like a warm blanket, “You did nothing wrong. None of this was your fault. You are the victim here, okay? You have every right to feel hurt or upset or whatever you need to feel. You are not a horrible person. You did not cheat on me by any means. I’m not mad at you. Please don’t be mad at yourself. I love you so much and you are so wonderful and amazing and I’m so sorry you had to go through this. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you.”

You spin around to look at him, “Don’t blame yourself, please. You didn’t know. I didn’t tell you anything. I thought he would go away, but he just kept bothering me, day after day-“

“Wait, how long has this been going on?” 

“…well you remember at the beginning of the week when we randomly ran into him in the hallway?”

“Vaguely”

“Well, after that I kept running into him and he kept saying weird things and asked me to come watch his practice or if he could walk me home. I always used your practice or you walking me home as an excuse but you were so busy with practice yesterday that I couldn’t stay. And then I ran into him outside and he kept following me, insisting on walking me home and then…yeah.” You look at Oikawa, his face slowly burning red with rage. 

“So he has been bothering you for a week now?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to say anything because I thought I was being dramatic or looking too much into it…but I guess not…are you mad that I didn’t tell you?”

Oikawa’s face softens again, “No, not at all. I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me. You aren’t being dramatic. What he did was genuinely wrong and you are allowed to be uncomfortable or upset by it. Please if anything, anything, big or small, makes you uncomfortable or scared or upset or anything, please tell me. I want to know. I want to help you.”

You place your hand on his cheek, a soft smile poking at the corner of your mouth for the first time all day, “Thank you. That means so much.” You lean your forehead on his, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He closes the gap between you, gently pressing his lips against yours, afraid of making you uncomfortable. 

You melt at his touch. Just one kiss from him and all your fears and worries fall away. You wrap your arms around his neck as his arms hold you tighter around the waist. You could live in this moment forever. You break apart but keep your head leaned on his. You two just sit and bask in each other for a moment before Oikawa pulls you in for a hug. You relax into him, letting his presence melt away the ice of the past 24 hours. He gently strokes your hair, “I hope you know I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Don’t get kicked out of school, or worse, get kicked off the volleyball team.” 

He laughs at your comment, the vibration running through you, “It would be worth it for you.”

You sit up, looking at him with a smirk, “Are you saying you like me more than volleyball?”

“I can play volleyball any time with anyone. There is only one Y/N in this world,” He presses a quick kiss on your lips, “And she’s all mine.”

You blush at his flirting, “You love me. You want to kiss me. You want to hug me.” 

“Mhm, so what if I do?” He smirks.

“Hmmm, I’ll allow it, but only if you bring me some food. I have only eaten and apple today and I’m starving.” Your stomach growls and you both can’t help laughing at the timing. 

“Okay, anything for you, Love.” He gets up and brings over the ordered food, “But for real, we are filing a report against him.”

“No, I don’t want to make a big fuss.” 

“It’s either that or I beat him to a pulp. Your choice.” He says, taking a bite of his food

“Lets do the report.” You lean your head against his shoulder, “But you would totally win.”

“You think so?” He says smirking with a mouth full of food.

“Oh yeah. Baseball has nothing on your serves.”

“Got that right,” He throws his arm around you and kisses the top of your head. 

How did you get so lucky to find someone like him? 

Epilogue

“Did you hear? Hiroto got expelled.”

“Yeah, I saw him leaving school today.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know but he always made me uncomfortable.”

You hear the murmurs from your schoolmates as you walk down the hall with Oikawa, who is standing awfully tall today. “Someone looks happy.” You nudge him.

“Of course. I’m with you aren’t I.” He smirks down at you.

“Mhm, I’m sure that’s why. At least you didn’t beat him up.”

“Of course not.” He says with a sly voice. 

More random voices chime around you, “Bro I saw Hiroto leaving school this morning.”

“Dude, I heard he got expelled.”

“Must have gotten in a fight” “You think?”

“Totally. He had a nasty black eye.”

You smack Oikawa on the arm, “To’ you said you wouldn’t beat him up!”

“I didn’t!” He holds his hands up in defense, “One punch doesn’t count as beating him up.” You walk away, pretending to ignore him. “Y/N wait! Come on, don’t leave me like that. He deserved it!.” 

You can’t help laughing at his little pouty voice.

“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy you coffee.” He spins you around, giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster.

“Hmmm, a coffee and ice cream.”

“Done.” He grabs your hand happily and continues walking with you.

“Did it hurt? Did he cry?” You mutter.

“Oh yeah, big time baby.” Oikawa laughs.

You are a terrible person for laughing, but you have a pass this time around. 

[stinkrascal]

i keep doing this thing where i’ll only eat one specific food for a month straight then i make the shocked pikachu face whenever i’ve exhausted eating that single meal and wanting to eat something different finally and it is ruining my life

[writinginthesecrettrees]

dean trying to get sammy to take his entire fist

I got this while traveling and it’s been running through my head ever since.

So I may have written like 1k word on it, and because it’s all weecest and fisting...

Dean plans it for a weekend, wants all of Saturday to get Sam good and loose because the last thing he wants to do is hurt his baby brother, and Sam will have all of Sunday to recover.

He’s been wanting to try this for far too long, saw it in one of John’s dirty magazines that was so much dirtier than anything he’d seen before, never even thought that a whole fist could fit inside a person like that and couldn’t stop thinking about what Sammy would feel like, tight around his wrist and so so hot inside, what Sammy would sound like as Dean worked his fist deep inside.

What Sammy would look like, with the thick bulge of Dean’s hand moving in his guts and pushing out his belly.

Sam’s not so sure about this, but he wants to please Dean so he whispers “okay” when Dean tells him what fisting is. It starts out amazing - waking up with Dean’s mouth on his hole, licking and nipping at the puckered skin until Sam’s writhing in the sheets, begging for more and feeling so empty and hungry for more. Dean gets him sloppy-full of lube and fucks him, slow and deep and so satisfying and when he’s done Sam’s ready to fall back asleep. Jolts back awake when Dean pushes a plug into him.

“Gotta keep you stretched, Sammy,” and Sam whines at that but doesn’t complain. 

He spends the day naked, in Dean’s lap. Sometimes laid out on his belly, Dean rubbing and fingering him and fucking him with increasingly big plugs and a vibrator that Dean’s been saving just for this. Sometimes sucking Dean’s dick while Dean rims him around whatever toy is stuffed into him. Sometimes bouncing on Dean’s cock, thin arms wrapped around big brother’s shoulders and head thrown back while Dean sucks dark marks onto his throat, and when the sun sets Sam’s feeling wrung out and completely loose.

Dean pulls out the biggest plug he’s ever put into Sam, and it still looks smaller than his fist. Sam whimpers at the emptiness, hole clenching around nothing and gaping open.

“Looks so pretty, Sammy. All stretched out and puffy and pink inside… you’re just perfect, baby boy.”

“It feels funny, Dean. Empty. I need…”

“Don’t worry. Gonna fill you up good.” 

Dean adds more lube to the mess already squelching inside Sam and he knows he’s being excessive as he empties the bottle but he doesn’t want to hurt Sammy. Three fingers go in easy, and Sam’s still loose around them so he adds his pinky. His thumb tucks in too, and Sam clenches on his fingers. Gets tight when Dean reaches his knuckles and he pushes and pushes but can’t quite get in.

“Gotta relax for me, baby. Push out, okay?”

“Hurts,” Sam whines, and Dean’s heart starts to break.

“Okay… okay, I’m gonna stop.”

Sam’s hand shoots back and grabs Dean’s wrist. “No,” gritted out through his teeth, “wanna get it. Just… help me, Dean?”

“Okay. Deep breath in.” Dean leans down, presses a soft kiss to the base of Sam’s spine, rubs soothingly over his hip as he pushes hard into Sam’s hole. It gives a little as Sam pushes out against him and Dean hates that the breathless scream coming out of Sam gets him harder than he’s ever been. It feels like forever, getting deeper by millimeters, and then his knuckles pop through the tight ring of muscle and Sam screams again, high and shrill, clenches hard around his wrist and Dean can feel his bones grinding together and he almost collapses over Sam’s back, holds his arm still and marvels at how far into Sam he is. Feels like he could reach up and wrap his fingers around the frantic beating heart of his baby brother, needs to grab the base of his dick tight to keep from coming at the thought.

Carefully, slowly, Dean tucks the fingers inside of Sam into a fist, straining his ears to catch each gasp and moan his movement pulls out of his brother. Waits for Sam’s breath to even out before he curls his wrist to rub his knuckles against Sam’s prostate and his jaw drops when Sam starts humping into the mattress, fucking himself on Dean’s fist.

“Look so hot like this, Sammy. Swear I’m in ya half-way to my elbow here,” Dean pants, pulls out and punches back in along with Sam’s motion.

Sam’s eyes squeeze shut and his mouth hangs open, drool on the pillow beneath him as he grunts in concentration and rocks back onto Dean’s arm.

“So full, De. ‘S gooooood…”

Sam screams again as he comes, dry because he’s come so much today and has nothing left and when Dean pulls his fist out, covered in lube and come, Sam’s perfect pink rosebud has bloomed all puffed up and red and Sam whimpers softly when Dean jerks himself frantically to come across his back.

“Did so good, Sammy. You took it so deep, so good for me.”

Sam rolls his head to the side, smiles at Dean with heavy-lidded eyes. “I think I liked it.”

And Dean’s dick tries to twitch at that, already planning the next time they can do this, once Sammy’s had plenty of time to rest and recover, even if he really wants to punch his fist back inside now and keep it there forever, twist Sammy’s guts around his fingers so they can never be separated. 

Instead he slips into the bathroom, scrubs his hands and arm clean, brings a soft washcloth he stole just for this out to gently wash Sammy and kisses him while he whimpers as Dean wipes his skin clean. Hauls Sam up into his lap and presses a bottle of Gatorade to his lips, whispers, “C’mon, Sammy, hydrate. You need fluids,” to encourage him to drink, and when the bottle’s empty he pulls the scratchy sheets up to cover them both, curls around Sammy to get some sleep.

“D’n?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“‘M gonna suck you so–” a yawn, “–so good. In the morning.”

And Sammy’s asleep before Dean can make his brain work enough to say “oh, God, yes!”

[dzamie-oc]

Untitled Serperior TF

A day at the park becomes trouble when a Team Dim Sun grunt takes her new toy out for a spin. Without any Rangers around, the repercussions may be... strange. (922 words)

CW: transformation, mild pokephilia reference

Panting hard as razor-sharp leaves slice through the air just inches away from your head, you duck around the side of the large rock in the park. Your Garchomp, Izma, resurfaces next to you, a little scratched up but still able to keep going. A moment later, Dazzle vaults over the rock to land beside both of you, spitting a jet of flame to incinerate the strange Serperior's next attack. You hazard a look around your cover and spot the Grass-type slithering closer. Unnaturally slowly, though, and with unfocused eyes. Behind them, that strange figure in a black-and-purple uniform gloats over her equally strange laptop-like device. "Ha-ha, this is great!" she says, "the power boost these new 'remos give out sure is handy! C'mon, you snake, finish those losers off so I can try you out on the rest of town!"

"Gaarrr..." Izma mutters. Dazzle, too, weighs in, "laz, lazzazzle. Saaaa... Salazzle."

"Sorry, Dazzle, I've gotta agree with Izma on this one. That Serperior barely looks singed... and I don't think that daze they're in is from your poison." Another glance around the rock confirms that the Serperior is only getting closer. A plan slowly forms in your head, and you look to your two Pokemon. "Alright, girls, don't get used to this, but that snake isn't our main target anymore." An unsure look comes over Dazzle's snout, but Izma nods along.

You give the command and hold on tight to the Garchomp. Izma digs a tunnel through the earth with remarkable speed, carrying you with her, while Dazzle pounces at the Serperior, flames and toxins at the ready. All you can hear is muffled sounds of the fight, however, until Izma pops up out of the ground, right in front of the laptop-wielding woman. You fall from Izma's back onto the ground as powerful jaws snap down on the equipment, though your Garchomp's typing shields her from the dangerous-looking electricity arcing around the failing equipment. On the woman's face, surprise turns to anger as she snarls at you, "you jerk! Do you know what I had to do to get one of these? Serperior! Come and-"

Suddenly, a powerful blast knocks the three of you off your feet, sending you flying back and tumbling on the grass, with Izma skidding to a stop next to you. She springs back up quickly and roars in defiance towards where the laptop had been. You groan and try to stagger to your feet, but realize that your arms don't reach the ground. Adrenaline shoots through you as you jerk up in a rush, trying to look at your arms only to see a pair of short, green stumps. A shiver runs all the way up your spine and panic starts to take hold - without arms, eating will be difficult, doors may be impossible, and you can just about forget your favorite nighttime habit. Your imagination conjures up an image of Dazzle feeding you, and memories of the last time either of them tried to cook distracts your mind from the panic long enough to realize something else:

Your arm-stumps are GREEN.

Looking down again, you see not a human torso, but a green, serpentine one, with an exaggerated, yellow-lined collar. With an eerie calm, you turn your head to follow the length; it curves away to skirt along the ground, a few yellow bands interrupting the vivid green, before finally ending with a tapered tail sporting a few leaves. You blink and will the tail to move; it does, curling back towards you. "Izma?" you say, unsteady, "please tell me I'm hallucinating."

"Okay, you're hallucinating," comes the scratchy-voiced reply, "but you're also a Serperior. I didn't know humans could evolve."

"We can't; that's not helpful," you say through tight jaws - though your fangs no longer clench against each other, "Dazzle! I need your opinions on something!"

A few seconds later, the Salazzle walks up to you on all fours, grumbling about having almost scored, then pushes herself back up to two feet. "Is that... is that YOU?" she says, much more - properly, you might add - surprised than Izma had been. She looks you up and down. "You look gooooood."

Well, there's a solution for that nighttime habi- you stop yourself from continuing that train of thought. "What am I going to do? I set out on my journey with Izma to be a Trainer, not a trainee! Let alone learning how to... do the whole Serperior thing. I hope slithering comes naturally, because otherwise one of you may have to carry me home. And then there's convincing people I'm still me, and- woah!"

Izma hoists you up onto her shoulders; after some effort, you manage to loop your tail around her chest to hold yourself steadier, then look to see where she's going. It's the Serperior from earlier, his red eyes now much less hazy, watching you with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "Hey," the Garchomp calls to him, "our Trainer is a Serperior now, and is really bad at it. Can you help him be less bad?"

Later that night, you think back on the events of the day. You've gotten slithering down pretty good, but vines are still a bit beyond you, let alone any proper moves. It was weird to have Dazzle hit on you so directly, but not altogether unpleasant. And yet, as you lay in the newly-created four-Pokemon sleep tangle, one thought remains on your mind...

"Wait, shit, am I speaking my usual language or going 'serp serperior'?"

[forsakenpumpkin]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

Repost, don’t reblog.

BASICS.

full name. Thebestmaster nickname. Besty! and situational joke names. gender. he’s good, thanks height. 2′2″ age. Likely over 500,000 years zodiac. virgo, based on isola entry date + 1st comic appearance spoken languages. dreamside universal

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair color.  nope! eye color.  off-white skin tone.  blue rind accent.  no...? voice.  high, sort of nasally or scratchy, like a cartoon character. can also change pitch or voice pretty drastically if it’s in line with an act or joke. dominant hand.  you know, i just reread his chapter for this question, and it’s unclear. posture.  uhhh. floating scars.  unlikely tattoos.  nope! birthmarks.  noooope. most noticeable feature(s).  great question!

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. under dreamside birth weight. same as current birth height. 2′2″ (same as current) manner of birth. magic first words. “huh? wait, who’s...” siblings. gooooood question! parents. steve. parental involvement.  presumably good, until he got separated from steve, and then they both apparently spent half a million years imprisoned in separate places, so that’s cool

ADULT LIFE.

occupation. in canon, it’s Whatever Steve Wants. in isola, he works in a theater and in a haunted house. current residence.  archimedes. close friends. he definitely considers you close if he uses a nickname, like for rosemaster, nightmare knight, vaati, and ammutseba. relationship status. no! financial status. fine? he understands money now, at least. driver’s license. that would be difficult. criminal record. probably nothing, although he could easily be roped into crimes. vices. envy, maybe

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. ace romantic orientation. aro preferred emotional role. - preferred sexual role. - libido. - turn on’s. - turn off’s. - love language. acts of service (given), physical touch (received) relationship tendencies. would kill for you

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. none, but i like to listen to poutatorvi. hobbies to pass time. going to quiet places and staring blankly into nothing for inhumanly long amounts of time mental illnesses. oh for sure physical illnesses. none fears. loud sudden noises, not being enough, people being mad at him self-confidence level. really bad, it’s entirely dependent on his ability to do what other people want of him vulnerabilities. cannot resist starting a performance if you hint at one

tagged by: @ingoldentent​ tagging: steal it!

[toodi-imagines]

Can i get some uhhhhhhhh 2Doc nsfw with 2D as a maid? 🅱️ank you

first of all, what the fuck is this??? Second of all??? Idk why I’m writing this?????? I have lost all credibility as a writer and I’ve had this blog for two (2) days

2D tilted his head and frowned, inspecting his reflection in the mirror. It was still missing something. He scratched his head before remembering the pièce de résistance. His headpiece. He snatched the frilly lace bonnet from his windowsill and placed it gingerly amidst his blue tufts of hair poking out in every which direction. He reevaluated himself in the mirror, nitpicking at every detail, and eventually gave himself a large, toothy grin. He felt inexplicable about his new fetish for being a servant. He had never realized how much he enjoyed being belittled, demeaned and barked at. Of course, he knew that Murdoc’s behavior towards him wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t help feeling a little aroused at times when Murdoc would call him names. The times when Murdoc secretly showed kindness after being particularly rude were the times that 2D fantasized about. Before the events of plastic beach, Murdoc and 2D had a mutual relationship that functioned pretty much in this fashion. 2D missed those days on more than one occasion. Things were getting better with Murdoc. They weren’t perfect—2D still had panic attacks on occasion due to Murdoc—but they were improving. The two of them went to counseling together, which helped a great deal. Today happened to be one of those days that 2D yearned for his old relationship with Murdoc. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he imagined all of the things Murdoc could say to him; all of the things Murdoc could do to him. He closed his eyes, allowing his fantasies to run wild. “Oi, what the hell are ya wearin’, faceache?” a gruff voice spat from the doorway. “Muds! I d-didn’t fink yew were gonna b-be home yet!” 2D sputtered, both embarrassed and aroused. “Ya didn’t answer my question,” Murdoc slurred, making it apparent to 2D that he was drunker than usual. “I was just, erm, tryin’ it on…for fun I s'pose,” 2D said, looking down and scuffing his toe into the floor dejectedly. “Well,” Murdoc drawled on, taking a few steps closer as he talked, “you don’t really have the figure to pull it off, not rrrreally. Your shoulders look too bony, and your legs are too skinny. But…you’ve got a good enough butt,” Murdoc continued, objectifying 2D like he was a hatstand. 2D’s lust-filled eyes met Murdoc’s. “Oh, I -I-I see what it is,” Murdoc stumbled across his words, inching closer to 2D until his hot, booze-scented breath grazed his face, “you need someone to contrrrol you. You want someone to teach you a lesson…make you behave…” Murdoc continued, whispering heavily with a scratchy voice. 2D nodded, “That would be nice,” 2D replied his voice nearly cracking, and his breathing heavy. Murdoc hummed gutterally, “Well, aren’t you lucky, because I’m in just the mood to provide,” he tantalized. “You know what you are?” Murdoc questioned playfully as he circled 2D, soaking in his subservient appearance. “Wha’ would that be, Murdoc?” 2D replied. “A dirty. Little. Whore. And not much more than that,” Murdoc responded grinning and smacking 2D’s ass firmly. 2D’s sharp intake of breath pleased Murdoc who enjoyed feeling powerful and controlling. Murdoc’s words stung a little, but 2D knew it was all part of the game he craved playing with Murdoc. “Ya know what you’re gonna call me?” Murdoc grunted softly into 2D’s ear. “Wha’?” 2D whispered. “Sir. Now say it,” Murdoc commanded. “Yes, sir,” 2D said, complying. “Oh gooooood, you like to behave. That’ll pay off well for ya,” Murdoc teased with a devilish smirk as he kicked the backs of 2D’s knees, causing them to buckle and 2D to drop to the floor. “I just wanted to see ya on your knees,” Murdoc explained, “and I like what I see,” he carried on. Murdoc stepped in front of 2D, getting a thrill from the sight of 2D beneath him. He slapped 2D’s cheek gently but firmly. “Do you know what you have to do now?” Murdoc quizzed with a smirk. “Yes, sir,” 2D replied. “Beg for it,” Murdoc commanded, clenching a fistful of 2D’s silky, blue hair from the back of his neck. “Murdoc, please, I really want yew, please let suck your dick, I really want it,” 2D groveled. “Oooohh is that sooo?” Murdoc retorted, unbuckling his belt. Quickly, 2D took over for him, unzipping and removing his pants for him—after all, a maid is supposed to do the work. “May I please have it?” 2D said staring at Murdoc’s bulging underwear. “I don’t know, have you been a good enough boy?” Murdoc patronized, giving 2D another firm slap. “Please, sir, I’ll do anything,” 2D continued to snivel. “Anything? Well I’ll keep that in mind,” Murdoc taunted, “but for now, I think you’ve earned it.” “Thank yew, sir,” 2D sighed with relief. 2D immediately got to work pleasuring Murdoc. Murdoc tilted his head back and moaned in ecstasy, praising 2D when he did a particularly good job. “You’re doing such a good job, D, you’re being a really good boy,” Murdoc moaned. 2D, enthused by Murdoc’s compliments, sped up his pace and began to run Murdoc’s length as he sucked. Murdoc’s eyes rolled back into his head, and his breathing became ragged and uneven. “Stu, oh hail Satan, Stu don’t stop,” Murdoc cried, his knees becoming weak. 2D continued, attempting to deepthroat as he sucked. “Come on, D, you can manage,” Murdoc cooed from above as he gently guided 2D’s head farther towards him. “There ya go, attaboy,” Murdoc praised between staggered breaths as 2D finally succeeded in deepthroating. “Keep going, I’m so close,” Murdoc growled. Murdoc thrusted into 2D’s mouth one final time before finishing on, well, pretty much everything. “Oh sweet Lucifer,” Murdoc groaned as he released, before glancing down at the mess he’d created and chuckling. He gently pet 2D’s head and kneeled down to kiss him. “You did a good job, ya know,” Murdoc said, showering 2D in affection, “now, let’s get this cleaned up, shall we?”