#i’ve tried a couple times to pick it up again since then but this is the only time it’s really stuck | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feeder86 · 6 months

Text

Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso’, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training.

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach.

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,” Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word.

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gainer fic #gay feedee

671 notes · View notes

miniwheat77 · 1 year

Text

Tight. (Mean!Keegan x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Keegan being a meanie, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any.

This is not edited give me a break lmao

You flinch slightly as he passes by you, body going rigid.

You cross your arms, nervously passing by him. You hate that he’s able to do this to you.

He’s mean to you. No matter what you do, he hates it. He’s cruel and it’s worse when there’s no one around. You hurry into your room to avoid him anymore. You don’t know what you did, but he hates you.

When you were first on base, you were happy. You loved being in the military and you loved helping people. Until now. His hatred for you made you bitter and cold. Waking up was tiring and miserable and sometimes you just wish you hadn’t. Seeing him, hearing what he had to say. All of it. It was sickening.

You really liked Keegan at first. You tried your hardest to get on his good side. Nothing you did ever seemed to work. Eventually you just gave up.

A sigh leaves your lips. Wiping your tired eyes. You had to trade for watch soon and you weren’t ready.

You stood up, looking out your door to make sure the hallway was clear, you didn’t want to run into Keegan anymore tonight.

You made your way down the hallway, closing your door behind you. You exit through the large metal door and make your way across base to the watch tower. Making your way up the stairs to relieve the last person on watch.

He thanked you before going back down the stairs you had just come up. It was basically a room full of cameras up in a watch tower, meant for watching everything. “Hey, before I go.” He stops just as he’s out of your sight, coming back inside. “Keegan was telling me a little bit about you.” He smiles. He’s standing with his back to the door, closing it. You notice his fingers twist the lock on it. The hair on your body stands up and you stand up from your chair, resting your hand on your sidearm. “If Keegan said it, I’m sure it’s not true.” You mumble. “He was just saying that you like to… get around. Was thinking maybe since nobody will be up here for a couple hours.” He shrugs, tugging the zipper down on his vest. “What he said wasn’t true. I’m not interested.” You say quickly. “Oh come on.. is it me?” He breathes. Taking a step toward you. You raise your shirt up to reveal your gun. “I said I’m not interested. I won’t say it again.” You breathe. He raises his hands up, a laugh leaving his lips. “Alright. Suit yourself. Thought I’d try my luck.” He mumbles. Taking a step back. “He said you were a slut, thought you’d be easier.” He laughs. Disappearing through the door finally. As soon as he’s gone, you’re rushing to lock the door. Sighing in relief. What the fuck was that?

Tears burn your eyes as you sit down, letting your head hang. You can’t help them as they fall. You were so defeated, and so fucking angry.

You wipe your eyes, regaining your composure for a minute before picking up your radio. “Hey, Maria, can you cover my watch for me early? I’ve got a headache and think I need to go see a medic.” You call to her over the radio. “No problem.”

You hurry down the steps, not wanting to be spotted by her. Keegan always spent his time in the mechanic shop on base, he got along with the mechanic and liked learning new things. Most likely he’d be there. It was late, but he didn’t sleep well during the night. You rush across the base, ankles burning from fast walking as you burst through the door to the shop. There’s only one Humvee currently inside. Keegan is sitting at the desk, working on some kind of paperwork. You startle him slightly when you barge through the door, making him look up. He stands up when he sees you. “What are you doing here?” He mumbles. “Fuck you.” You seethe. You pause, the tears slip from your eyes before you even start talking, you want to hold them back but you can’t. Not anymore. Your feet are planted on the ground a few feet away from him. “I just had someone come onto me in the goddamn watch tower because of you. Because of what you keep saying about me.” Your voice is unsteady. “I don’t know what the fuck I ever did you to Keegan, but I can’t fucking take it anymore. You win.” You spit. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” He mumbles. “Dramatic?” You freeze. You turn to him. “You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since I met you.” Your voice is quiet and serious. “I used to love this. I used to love knowing that I was helping people. I used to love every second of a mission, getting to meet civilians of all kinds, seeing all parts of the world and looking at peace through the violence. Now? I dread every single second of every single mission, because of you. I pray that I’ll die on them. Get shot, or stabbed. Just so that I don’t have to see your face. When we have to parachute out to reach a mission? I pray that my parachute doesn’t open. You’ve made my life a living hell, you’ve ruined me. So yeah, you win Keegan. Maybe that makes me dramatic but it’s the truth. I hate you. I hate you so goddamn much that it hurts.” Tears stream freely from your eyes. “Okay? What do you want me to say hm?” He breathes. “Why. Why do you do it?” He can’t lie, the heartbreak you feel unsettles him a little bit. “Because. You think you’re so perfect. You think that everything is all fine and dandy. The military isn’t for pathetic people like you. I mean.. look at you?” He laughs.

“So.. because I choose to see the good in everything, I deserve to be torn down? Treated like shit?” You’re moving closer to him. He laughs. “I’m sorry that not everyone can be a miserable sack of shit like you.” You growl. A gasp leaves your lips when he grasps you by your throat, backing you up and slamming you up against the wall by the desk. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growls. A whimper leaves your lips. “Fuck you.” You seethe. He tightens his grip. You try to swallow but can’t. “Do your fucking worst, you can’t hurt me any-“ he cuts off the rest of your oxygen, watching you turn red. His eyes are fixed on your lips and you look confused. He lets go, hearing you take in a deep breath. He moves closer to you, looking at your eyes before they flicker to your lips.

You’ve got to be delusional.

He grits his teeth, hand shaking as it sits at your throat. “You’re pathetic.” He growls. “Little bunny can’t even take a joke.” He chuckles. You try to push him back, but he forces you back even harder. “I hate you too, you know. Everyone fucking likes you and they don’t know how fucking pathetic you are.” He shakes his head.

“You feel good? Does treating me like shit make you feel good? You’re the pathetic one here. You spend every second of every day making someone else’s life hell because you’re so unhappy in your ow-“

His lips are what cut you off. You freeze for a second, and despite every nerve in your body telling you to force him off of you, you kiss him back. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue into your mouth, he’s got his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose. He tightens his grip on your throat unintentionally as he kisses you, like you’ll slip away from his grasp. He lets go of your throat finally, lowering his hand to grope your breasts, hearing you gasp into his mouth. When he pulls away, you take in a sharp breath. Seeing the way you’re looking at him makes him regret it. The loving stare you always have. Intensified by his touch.

He reaches lower, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Once your lower half is completely exposed to him, he shoves some of the stuff on the desk to the side. Lifting you up and setting you on the desk. He hurries to unbutton his own pants, tugging them just low enough to expose himself. You’re still staring him down, lips parted slightly. “Stop looking at me like that.” He growls.

“What?” You breathe, “like you like me. You should hate me.” He growls. Lining himself up with your entrance. He tugs you closer to the edge of the desk, pushing himself into your entrance, hearing you gasp. “Oh fuck- you’re fucking tight,” he growls. Your eyes move from his face to where the both of you connect. Watching him slide into the cavern between your legs. You can’t peel your eyes away from him, your body betrays you for him. “Keegan-“ you whine. “The door-“ you gasp, clutching onto the desk. “Shut up.” He growls. “Let them see us.” He pants. He’s got a death grip on your thighs, the desk making an awful screech with each thrust he takes into you. The metal scratching the concrete. You try to be quiet, but it’s hard. As much as you hate to admit it, he feels good. Sliding up against parts of you that’ve been completely untouched. He stimulates parts of you that you didn’t know existed, you didn’t know you needed this. You can feel something building in your lower stomach.

You know that you should push him away, feel disgusted for letting him have something so intimate. You’ll be another notch on his belt, he’ll return to being the asshole that he is. The cry that leaves your lips interrupting your thoughts, you sit up, holding yourself tight. You’re watching him slide into you, seeing your arousal build at the base of his cock. You go quiet and that’s when he’s concerned. Seeing you staring between the both of you. You don’t push him away, so he keeps going. Your breathing picks up, but you can’t tear your eyes away from it. You’re having sex with him, with Keegan. Your eyes finally flicker up to his face and he laughs. “Thought I lost you in there for a second.” He mumbles. Gritting his teeth. You say nothing, breath catching in your throat. “Look at you. So fucking dumb because of my cock.” The knot that’s wound up in your stomach is about to snap. “Keegan- I-“ you breathe. You can’t even finish your sentence, your body lurching hard as you cum, his eyes widening when you soak his cargo pants. Your eyes roll back, knuckles turning white as you hold onto the desk. “That’s it. Cum on my fucking cock.” He growls. You’re gripping onto him tight, sending him right into his own orgasm, hearing loud moans and whimpers leave his lips as he reaches his peak. He fills you up to the hilt, teeth gritted as he fucks you to ride out your high. Enjoying the way you tense up at the way he overstimulates you.

You’re quiet when he pulls out of you, whining at the loss of you wrapped around him. His filth spills back out of you, and he bites his lip when he sees it. He adjusts his mask when he steps back from you.

You move quickly to slide your pants back on, quickly putting your boot back on. You take in a breath to say something to him, but stop yourself. He’s got his back turned to you to clean himself up, and that’s when you take your opportunity to leave. He hears your footsteps and assumes you going to get something. Whipping around when he hears the door open. He sees your arm shutting the door behind you. He sighs. “Goddamnit Y/N.” He mumbles, buttoning his pants and fixing the desk.

—

The following day, he can’t seem to find you. He’s been looking all day. Finally, you emerge into the hallway from your Captain’s office into the hallway. “Well. If you really think that’s what you want, we’ll set you up an appointment and fill out the paperwork for a transfer.” He nods. You smile nervously. “We’re really going to miss you, and between here and there, I hope you’ll change your mind. You’re a good Sergeant Y/N.” He nods, passing by Keegan. Your eyes follow him, and your smile fades when you see Keegan standing there. He’s staring back at you. You tear your eyes away from his, turning and making your way to your room.

You step inside, closing the door behind you with a sigh.

He opens it and steps inside, startling you. He closes it behind himself, locking it. “You’re not going.” He breathes. You stay quiet. “Keegan. You need to leave.” You finally say after a minute. “No. You’re not going. If you go, I’ll follow you.” He breathes. “Wherever you go, I’ll find a way to be there with you. Don’t care what it is or where.”

“You can’t. You’ve done enough.”

He growls at your response, stepping closer to you. “You’re not going. No.” He shakes his head. He grasps his mask, tugging it off. “No. You’re staying.” You close your eyes as he moves closer. “Nobody will touch you like I can.” He breathes. You clench your eyes tighter. “You saw the way your body reacted to mine. I made you cum on me, I filled your pussy with my cum.” He breathes. “Stop-“ you flinch. “You loved it.” He mumbles, he’s backed you up into the wall behind you. “Keegan stop.” You breathe. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” He breathes, pressing his hand to your throat but not being rough. “Nobody will fuck you like I did. Nobody will understand you.”

“You’re wrong. I can’t live like this.”

“Give yourself to me completely and things will change.” He breathes.

“You call me a slut, I’m not doing this.” You push him back but he forces you back. “You are doing this.” He grits his teeth. “I know, I know I don’t say the right things. I didn’t mean it. I just.. you’re so fucking perfect and I can’t.. but you.. you let me fuck you. You let me touch you.” He closes his eyes. “Don’t go.” He breathes.

Your eyes prick with tears and you keep your eyes closed because you know if you see his eyes you’ll change your mind. “Stay.” He breathes. His breath is warm on your face as he holds you there. “You have to stop. If I stay.” You breathe. “You have to stop saying what you say about me.”

“I can do that.” He sighs. Running his hand between your legs. “But I’m going to be rough with you.. I have to be rough with your pussy if you want me to be nice.” He breathes. You go tense as he touches you. You sigh. You don’t know what to do. You feel his lips against yours once again, and you know you won’t be able to stay away if you kiss back.

You’re delusional. He’s played mind games with you. What is happening?

You can’t help it, melting right into him, kissing him back.

Here you go, spiraling out of control once again.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #keegan smut #call of duty keegan #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan

2K notes · View notes

rynbutt · 5 months

Text

pierced. pt. 9 | spencer reid.

Spencer wakes up in hospital and he's relieved to see you by his side.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, hospital ward, mentions of gunshot wounds, stitches, bruising, etc. mild suggestive stuff.

a/n: im actually crying this is cute

Spencer didn’t recognise where he was at first.

His eyes blinked open slowly, the beeping of the heart monitor being the first thing he heard. The first thing he felt was much worse, like he had been hit by a bus. He let out a shaky breath, his abdomen aching painfully as he tried to sit up. He froze when he heard a soft sigh beside him. It took a lot of effort for him to move his head, but he finally did and his heart warmed at the sight of you, sound asleep with your head next to his thigh.

You had your hand loosely over his, your other hand tucked under your head to make the uncomfortable sleeping position a little more comfortable. Spencer lifted his hand from under yours, gently running a hand over your head. The contact was enough for you to wake almost instantly.

“Spencer?” You mumbled tiredly, sitting up straight in the hard plastic hospital chair. You looked at him and felt tears come to your eyes when he tiredly smiled at you, his hand still resting in your hair. You let out a breath of relief, grabbing his hand and peppering it with soft kisses. “You scared me.”

“I love you too,” Spencer’s voice was weak, but he wanted it to be the first thing he told you. It was all he could think about while he was lying in the grass, staring at the sky. Despite the immense pain, thinking of you helped soothe him.

“W-What?” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, furrowing your brows at him. Of all the things you expected Spencer to say, it wasn’t that. You thought he might say something witty or start apologising.

“I love you too,” he repeated, a little more confident this time. “I didn’t get to tell you and I was scared I would never get to… after I was shot.”

You let out a breath of a laugh as you stood up, cautiously leaning over Spencer to press a kiss to his forehead. You were far too nervous to touch him anywhere else, fearing you would cause further damage.

“You look exhausted,” he mumbled.

“That’s what a girl wants to hear,” you retorted playfully, sniffling gently.

Spencer held your hand, “I’m serious. You should go home… These chairs are awful.”

“I wanted to be here when you woke up,” you replied, smoothing some of his hair out of his face.

“And I’m awake now,” he whispered, “you need to rest.”

“If anyone needs to rest, it’s the guy who got shot,” you chuckled, sitting back down in the hospital chair, still holding his hand. Spencer gave you a disapproving look, you waved him off, “I’m fine, Spence. Really.”

“At least eat something,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“I’m fine-”

“I know you,” Spencer said, “you haven’t eaten since I’ve been out.”

You sighed in defeat, letting him gently cup your cheek, “I will go get the nurse first, then I’ll go get something to eat,” you compromised. Spencer knew he wouldn’t win with you so he agreed.

You pressed the call button, waiting for the nurse to arrive before you even thought about leaving Spencer’s side. She checked his vitals, assessed his wound dressing and asked him a couple of questions before leaving the two of you alone again. Spencer gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes with a smile, finally leaving to find something to eat.

You found a 24-hour Seven Eleven at the hospital food court across the road. You picked out a ramen bowl and a drink for yourself before you noticed the little cups of Jell-o in the fridge. Knowing it was Spencer’s favourite, you bought about four of them.

Spencer was sitting up when you got back, a slight pained expression on his face. The nurse had brought him some food and Spencer was not a fan of crappy hospital food. Spencer dropped his fork on the overbed table, giving up.

“Not a fan?” You chuckled.

“Tastes like a boot,” he grumbled.

You giggled softly before reaching into your plastic bag of goodies, “well, lucky for you, I’m the best girlfriend ever.” You pulled out the little cups of red and green Jell-o.

“Oh, I love Jell-o!” He exclaimed excitedly, reaching for the cups of Jell-o. He leaned cautiously toward you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled. You watched as he winced in pain slightly, moving back to comfortably sit lean on the bed. “Be careful, please. I just got you back, don’t go doing more damage.”

“Right,” Spencer nodded, peeling the plastic from the top of his Jell-o cup. He shoved a spoonful in his mouth, humming in delight, “way better.”

Spencer spent another 2 weeks in hospital for monitoring and you stayed by his side the entire time. Despite your protests, he pestered the nurses and doctors until they got you a more comfortable chair to sleep in. You still stayed awake to make sure Spencer got some sleep, refusing to rest until you knew he was asleep himself.

After giving him the all clear, the nurses and doctors gave you strict instructions to keep Spencer from hurting himself further and risk tearing his sutures. You knew getting Spencer to relax would be a mission in itself so you made sure to call Hotch to let him know and you took a full month off work to make sure Spencer was settled before you left him on his own.

“Guys, I can walk to the car,” Spencer protested as you and Morgan helped him into the car.

“Doctor’s orders, kid,” Morgan retorted, he looked at Spencer pointedly, “now, you’re going to listen to Y/N, right?”

“Yes, Morgan,” Spencer replied, rolling his eyes.

“Thanks for this, Derek,” you said, tossing Spencer’s bag into the backseat.

“It’s no trouble, pretty girl,” Derek smiled, “call me if you need anything or he’s getting on your nerves.”

“Will do,” you laughed.

Getting Spencer to the elevator and down the hall to your apartment proved to be more of a mission than you anticipated. Once you pushed your apartment door open, little Tofu came trotting up to the two of you, meowing relentlessly as if she was questioning where the hell you two had been.

“Tofu!” Spencer beamed as she rubbed up against his leg. “Mom and dad are home,” he cooed. It took everything in his power to not bend down and rub her belly, but he knew it probably wasn’t the best idea after he’d been shot.

You grinned at his referral of you as ‘Mom and Dad’ to your little fur baby. You helped Spencer to your room, helping him sit down on your bed. You kneeled on the ground, untying his laces (since he hated taking his shoes off with the laces still tied) and placing them neatly next to your much smaller sneakers in the closet.

“Alright,” you breathed, “I know you don’t like pain medication-”

“No,” Spencer warned. You knew what had happened a few years back and you never pushed him to take anything when he was in pain, but being shot sort of had unique circumstances.

“Oi,” you retorted, giving him a warning look, “at least take something mild so you can get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he sighed. You gave him a very mild medication, something you took when you had a headache or back pain. You knew it wouldn’t do too much but it would at least provide some relief.

“I’ll be just outside, call me if you need anything,” you kissed his forehead, helping him lay back in bed, pulling the covers over him gently.

“Could you stay?” he muttered softly, looking up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes. Your heart melted and of course you couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you whispered.

You crawled into bed beside him, fishing around your covers for the remote and putting on some random documentary.

“I’ve seen this one,” Spencer mumbled.

“That’s the point, Spence. If I put on a documentary you’ve never seen then you won’t go to sleep,” you chuckled.

“Fair enough,” he said with a small laugh.

Spencer went quiet after that, a soft yawn pulling from his throat as he relaxed into your comfy bed. You tucked yourself in close to him, letting him rest his head on your chest as you played with his hair, trying to soothe at least a little of his pain. He dozed off shortly after that, your apartment proving to be far more comfortable than a hospital bed in a freezing cold ward.

It was almost 2am when you woke up abruptly. You sat up in bed when you heard something fall in your bathroom. Looking beside you in bed, Spencer was gone and you knew his stubborn self tried to do something without waking you.

“Spencer!” You threw your bathroom door open, your eyes softening as you saw Spencer with his shirt halfway over his head, his arms tangled in the fabric. You helped him pull it over his head before you began scolding him, “Spencer, you’re supposed to wake me!”

“...I just wanted to shower,” he frowned.

Your heart softened and you sighed, “Okay, I’ll help you.”

You turned the water on, keeping your hand under the running water until it was warm enough for Spencer’s liking. You helped him take his sweatpants off and you helped him into the shower. Your heart aching at the sight of his red abdomen. It looked like it hurt a lot. The bruising had gone down significantly since the last time you saw it but it still looked awful. The thin incision was far smaller than you’d expected, given the damage the bullet had caused to everything beneath his skin.

Your shirt began to get wet and you decided you’d just shower with him. You pulled your shorts off and kicked them to the corner, pulling your (Spencer’s) shirt over your head and tossing it aside too. You gently washed every inch of him with unscented soap, making sure to be extra careful around his stomach.

Spencer leaned almost his whole body weight against you as you washed his skin. He felt remotely human again being clean, sick of the awkward sponge bathes he had to have in the hospital. You washed his hair too, the feeling of your fingertips scrubbing his scalp soothing the aches in his muscles.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your wet hair.

“You don’t have to thank me, Spence,” you replied, rinsing the soap suds from his hair.

Spencer loosely wrapped his arms around your waist just revelling in the feeling of the warm water hitting his back. You rubbed the back of his neck, your other hand tracing small circles along his back. The two of you stood there for a good 20 minutes before you finally turned the water off and helped dry him.

You gently patted his wound dry and put a fresh dressing over it. You grabbed a fresh pair of clothes for him and helped him into them before helping him back to bed, still adorned in just a towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at you.

“I love you,” he said softly, grasping both of your hands in his.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing a long peck to his lips. You let Spencer hug you close, pressing his head against your sternum with his arms loosely wrapped around your hips. You combed your fingers through his freshly washed hair, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head.

He finally let go of you after you mentioned still being dressed in nothing but a towel. You hung both your towels up in the bathroom before stepping into your slightly cold bedroom to pick some clothes for yourself.

Spencer whistled from where he was lying in your bed, his eyes raking over your naked body. You rolled your eyes playfully, looking at him. “Come here,” he grinned.

“Absolutely not,” you retorted.

Spencer frowned, “why?”

“I think sex after a gunshot wound to the stomach isn’t the best idea, Doctor,” you teased, pulling a pair of panties on and one of Spencer’s shirts to wear.

“Who said anything about sex?” Spencer retorted childishly.

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too- you know what? I’m not doing this with you,” you chuckled as you padded over to the bed, pulling the covers aside to lie down beside him. Spencer tucked himself close to you, lying his head next to yours.

“Only joking… sort of,” Spencer grinned.

“Mmm, thought so,” you laughed, closing your eyes to finally catch up on sleep. The two of you lied in comfortable silence before Spencer’s hand cheekily creeped up to cup your breast through the shirt you were wearing, you pried one of your eyes open, “Spencer…”

“Okay, okay, I promise I’m done!”

a/n: i want spencer to fondle my tiddies :(

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black @dreamsarebig @anuncalledbridge @fioletowelowe @ladylincoln @spencereidsgf420 @bollzinurmouth @scarlettssub @ipseitydelrey @donttrustlove @mcntsee @ruziazyn @valinherfantasyworld @khxna @maybe-not-this @shardsofmarxx @danadinosaur3 @justsarahbella @ah-blossom @lorelaireid @btskzfav @reidsdoll @pinkpantheris @violetvsworld @readergf @pangirl-fangirl @emideadpoets @blackbeautyiloveyouso @feyresqueen @amethyst-marie368

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm spencer #dr reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #cm spencer reid #derek morgan #cm reid #criminal minds dr reid #dr reid x reader #dr spencer reid

669 notes · View notes

reputationolivia · 1 month

Text

get him back!!

Warnings: minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, slight manipulation, driving under the influence (kinda), lowkey asshole harry, toxic relationship.

summary: where y/n & harry are broken up but she decides to hit him up after a while. inspired by olivia rodrigo’s “get him back” + my personal experiences bc i’m stupid 😚 (basically me romanticizing what i went thru & adding harry + added details for entertainment/plot)

word count: i forgot oops

“should i just text him?” you ask your two friends as you spin around on your barstool, knowing they would disagree but hoping they would convince you it was a good idea somehow. “absolutely not y/n! you know it never ends well. you know this.” melany says as liz turns around looking at you like you’re insane, and you might just be if your considering reaching out to him after what he did to you. “i really don’t think you should do that y/n, he always hurts you, and you always go back to him anyway.” what they said is true, you can admit that. you look down at your nails that are chipping from picking at them, feeling shame.

you know he always leaves you, every time. you always give him the benefit of the doubt. you always forgive him. you always make excuses for him. and you two always go back to each other, it never ends well, you always know how it will and, and yet you always do it anyway. you felt such a strong emotional connection like you’d never had with anyone, you weren’t a very open person by any means, but there was just something about him, something that made you open up to him, something that just made you feel like you were on top of the world when you were with him. you didn’t know what it was, but you knew he felt the same about you, even if he was always sabotaging it. there was an invisible force that just pulled you two together, that brought you back to each other.

you just couldn’t decide if that was actually for the better though. because no matter how strong your connection was, how amazing you felt when you two were together and on good terms, there was also no one who had broken your heart quite as hard and as often as he has. and yet. here you were about to text him. you knew you’d regret this as you were typing out your message against your friends wishes, and your better judgment.

“hey, it’s been a while…” you send him the message, immediately putting your phone away in your small purse, not telling your friends about what you’ve just done, part of you thinks he might not respond, and you’d be better for it in all honestly. but the other part of you couldn’t help but hope he’d respond.

the night went on, you had a couple of drinks & tried not to think about your message to harry. jared and michael eventually showed up, liz and melany’s boyfriends who also just happened to be friends of harry’s. you haven’t checked your phone since you put it away, part of you already regretting it but also wondering weather he’s responded yet or not. i’d be even responded that is. you greeted both jared and michael with a side hug “where’s harry?” michael (the closer one to harry) asked you as he gave you a side hug. you were confused to say the least, why was he asking you? “uhm i’ve no idea, why?” you ask him, curious of why he would even think he would be here.

“i told him i was coming here to meet up with melany and he mentioned something about stopping by, i thought he’d be here by now” confused, you looked back at him from your stool with a questioning look “i thought you two made up no?” he asked. “actually i kind of messaged him earlier but i haven’t checked my phone at all since so i don’t really know if you can call that ‘making up’.” you slightly cringed at your actions. he gave you a shrug, turning to melany as you turned to find your phone in your pocketbook and finally check your messages. “i’m coming to see you.” you read over the message over and over again like it was going to disappear. 30 minutes ago it said. you continued working on your drink suddenly nervous, he could be here any minute now. surely he’s figured out where you were from michael and you couldn’t blame michael, he haden’t known any better.

the thing about you two was that no matter how long you’ve gone without speaking (longest has been 8 months) once you were together in each others presence again it was like nothing happened, like no time had passed at all, like him being here now made up for all the hurt he’d caused in the past. it was kind of toxic you should admit, but you’d deny that to anyone who would point it out. you just couldn’t help but act normal, like nothing happened, but maybe it was for the best? probably not as there was much you two had to talk about but that conversation was always avoided.

you were on the dance floor with liz, moving to the beat of the music when he walked in, you didn’t notice him at first - too busy dancing, or more so just jumping up and down with liz. he walked over to michael, melany, and jared were, giving melany a nod and michael and jared one of those weird bro-hug things. suddenly you saw him, and it was like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs and like a breath of fresh air all at the same time. he began walking over to you and you excused yourself from liz as you headed in his direction as well, meeting him halfway across. looking up at him once you were in front of him you felt your nerves spike a bit as he looked down on you intensely. it was always excruciating before one of you said anything to each other for the first time again. still looking deeply at you “hey baby, how’ve y’been?” he asks. “been alright” you say “kinda been thinking ‘bout you a little” you can’t help but add. he smirks at you “kinda?” he asks, still smiling, “you know i have h” you respond, “‘s what i like to hear, been missing you a lot too.” he speaks before leaning over, kissing you sweetly and it’s like fireworks erupting, like everything is finally right in the world. you knew your relationship with him was toxic, but you didn’t care, not anymore. you loved him too much to care about that anymore.

you two continued making out for a little, his hands dropping to your waist as your hands made their way to the back of his neck linking together. you eventually pulled away, in much need of some air as he rested his forehead on yours. his green eyes looked at yours with a slight twinkle in them and a piece of you hoped it would be different this time, you always did. he smiled down at you as he separated his forehead from yours, standing up straight now. “let’s go get a drink yeah?” he asks you and you nod as he takes your hand in yours and leads you to the booth your friends had decided to switch to once they saw harry arrive after michael and jared in order to have more room. harry slides into the booth after you and you feel melany’s stare on you, you initially avoid eye contact but eventually decide to look back at her as she gives you a pointed look and you shrug in response, not knowing what to say.

•••

you lay your head below harry’s shoulder after finishing your most recent drink, harry bring his arm up and wraps it around your shoulders at that and takes a swig of his beer (something more “lightweight”) with his other hand. melany rolls her eyes at this and you can’t blame her but you also can’t find it in you to care. she gets up with michael to dance, leaving you and harry alone in the booth, you look up at him, your head still resting on his chest and he leans down, kissing you. you smile into the kiss, feeling it deepen and soon enough you two are in a full make out session, unable to keep your hands off each other. your hands in his hair as he continued to kiss you so deeply while holding you tight as if you’d disappear. “we should get out of here” you say between kisses, wanting to be with him to more private space so you could do more. “yours or mine?” he asks.

you’re in his car now heading to yours, he opened your door and made sure you were buckled in before heading over to his side and hopping in the drivers seat “are you sure you’re okay to drive?” you ask him, you’d offer to drive yourself but you were equally as wasted, if not more. “i’m alright babe, we can take an uber if you’d feel better about it.” stopping his right hand from turning the ignition, he looks to you awaiting your response. “no im okay, it’s okay. i trust you.” he smiles, leaning over to kiss you briefly before turning the key and starting the car before pulling away and onto the street. the streets are completely empty due to the late hour, it’s so rare to see such empty streets in the city. harry rests his hand on your knee as he controls the steering wheel with his other, beginning to go slightly above the speed limit, you didn’t really mind it though. he continued going faster, and faster until you were very well over the speed limit but somehow still, you felt safe. you didn’t really care what happened when you were with him as long as it was with him.

the wind was in your hair as the top was down, his right hand placed on your thigh as you breezed through the motorway, harry going around the few cars there were with ease. finally you pull up to the car park of your apartment complex, you unbuckle your seatbelt as he does the same, immediately exiting the car before rounding it to open your door for you. despite all the miscommunication and heartbreak he was always such a gentleman. your hand in his, you dash to the elevators and once the doors close he’s immediately pushing you against the wall before attaching his lips to your neck just below your jaw. he’s sucking lightly against the skin of your neck as your hands once again find themselves in his hair, tugging it lightly causing him to groan against your neck. the elevator dings as the doors open to your floor, he brings his lips to yours as the two of you begin to make out as you blindly make your way to your door and unlock your door.

you finally make it inside as you make your way to your bedroom and he pushes you back as he makes his way on top of you, tugging at your shirt you break the kiss to lift your shirt over your head but his lips are back on yours as soon as your top is out of the way as your fingers fumble with his zipper. you finally get his trousers undone and he lifts himself off you to pull them off, taking the time to pull his shirt off as well, leaving him just in his boxers as you take this time to slide your mini skirt off as well. you sit up as he makes his way back to you, lips back on yours as he unhooks your bra and slides it off effortlessly, he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as his hands drop down to your waist and he gives you a quick kiss before pulling back to get a better look at you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful baby.” he takes a hand to your tit, massaging it slowly before pushing you onto your back as his hands come to your hips and his fingers hook on either side of your panties before slowly dragging them down your legs. you split your legs open slightly as he throws your underwear into the growing pile on the floor, making his way back to you, one hand on the bed to keep his balance as the other finds its way to your breasts while he makes his way from your lips to your jaw, and neck. you can feel him through his boxers, pressing against you as you begin to grind against him. “please h, i need you.” you hook your fingers into his boxers and begin pulling them down as he finishes removing them once you couldn’t pull them down any further. “tell me what you need y/n, i’ll give you anything you ask me for.” he says as he looks into your eyes with so much sincerity, you almost can’t help but wonder if he truly means that. outside of the bedroom or if he’s just caught up in the heat of the moment. you decide not to think about that for the time being.

“need you inside of me, please h.” you say as he nods and places both of his hands on your hips as you spread your legs open and he aligns himself against you, you can practically feel his tip at your entrance. he takes his right hand off your hip and uses it to drag his tip along your slit, teasing you a bit before pushing in, slowly stretching you out. it felts so good to have him back inside of you, he was so long and thick, you couldn’t help but moan out at the feeling as he let out a breath above you. “oh fuck, you feel so good baby, you’re so tight for me.” he practically wants to roll his eyes to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in as he begins moving slowly, almost a bit overwhelmed at the feeling of being inside you, completely raw. “go a little faster h.” you say as he picks up his pace, and his right arm makes its way around your neck, squeezing it lightly.

“oh fuck you feel so fucking good baby.” he says as he picks up his pace even more “fuck i missed this, missed you so fucking much.” the sound of skin slapping fills the room and he’s going so hard and fast that you can’t keep your mouth shut and become a moaning mess. “y’know theres not a day i don’t think about you baby?” he says as he moves his hand from your neck to your breasts. “think about you everyday, how stupid i am for letting you go every time.” he’s pounding into you roughly now, hitting your g-spot with every thrust as you moaned in complete pleasure, yet your brain also working overtime to manage thinking about what he’s saying whilst completely railing into you mercilessly.

“h please don’t, don’t say these things. not if you don’t mean them.” you say between breaths. “i mean they baby, i’ve been so stupid letting you go. i promise ill do better if you give me another chance, you’re all i want.” he’s now rocking into you at a rough pace, his hand back around your neck making you feel dizzy and full of pleasure all while still thinking of his words. the sound of his balls slapping against you as he buries himself deep into you. “fuck i’m gonna cum.” you say as he brings his hand down to your clit and you can’t help but to let go, your orgasm hitting you hard. “oh fuck baby, feels so good. squeeze my cock so good, i’m gonna cum.” he continues thrusting into you as he cums inside of you, fucking you through your high until you’re both settled. he rests his arms on either side of you, still inside of you as he looks into your eyes and leans down to kiss you.

“please give me another chance baby, you’re the love of my life, i want to be the person you deserve.” he says with sincerity but you can’t help to wonder if he actually means it, i mean sure when he’s asked for forgiveness in the past he did mean what he said, at the time. but over time things would change, priorities would shift and you’d end up back at square one. but you just couldn’t say no to him, you never could and part of you hated yourself for that. you knew you were just setting yourself up for heartbreak but you just couldn’t stop yourself no matter how much you wish you could because it destroyed you every time. “okay.”

“really? you’ve just made me so happy my love. thank you so much, i promise i won’t let you down this time.” that much you didn’t know.

•••

harry was sleeping, he ended up staying the night. i guess last nights events tired him out but you? you were wide awake, couldn’t sleep.

eventually you gave up on trying to catch any sleep, thoughts of harry and your relationship working overtime on your mind. you side up and grab your pack of cigarettes, a habit you picked up from your father, and head out into your balcony. sitting down on a chair as you light your cigarette. you bring your legs to your chest as you inhale your first puff and memories of you and harry’s past relationship come to mind, all the great times hit also all the lies, the arguments, the secrets. you couldn’t help but cry.

you loved him so much, when your relationship was good it was really good, but when it was bad? it was really bad. sure if something went wrong this time you’d have no one to blame but yourself. after all you were the fool that kept giving him chance after chance and he always made the same mistakes. every time things ended between you two it destroyed you. after everything was over you were just a shell of yourself, your friends were always concerned about you afterwards.

you knew you were just hurting yourself at this point honestly, but you just couldn’t help but give him another opportunity because you would always cling onto the good times with him, always remember the great times you had and how good he could be to you. you were pathetic honestly, crying in your balcony while he slept peacefully in your bedroom after you’ve given him yet another chance. you really hope it’s different this time, that he’ll really change but deep down you know he won’t and it’ll end the same as it does every time, it will destroy you again and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

•••

little psa that i DO NOT encourage these kinds of relationships!! if you’re in a similar situation pls know you’re not alone 🫶🏻

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles reader insert #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #toxic relationship #toxic love #this has been a psa #psa #for entertainment purposes #you’re not alone

292 notes · View notes

honeekyuu · 3 months

Text

love affair. [tsukishima kei x f!reader] chapter three.

>>The unsavory reputation that Tsukishima Kei has built for himself as the Sendai Frogs' rudest rookie puts his upcoming contract renewal at risk

Tsukki really needs a girlfriend, and you really need everyone to stop calling you his pathetic, pining best friend<<

series status: [complete]

previous. || masterlist.

a/n: dont talk to me about that scene after he wakes up and gets angry in her bed okay dont fucking talk to me about it,,,,, that was the filthiest non-smut scene ive ever written

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

---------------------------------------

Kei stays at your apartment until the end of the semester.

He goes home a couple times a week, of course – he has to do laundry, and he and Yamaguchi have a pre-set Tuesday night plan of sitting on the couch and playing video games until it’s late enough that Tadashi almost always sleeps through his first class on Wednesdays.

But… he somehow finds himself in your bed every other night of the week.

The first two weeks or so, he comes up with excuses.

‘ It’s getting cold, and your heating hasn’t kicked in yet. ’

‘ If I go home this late, it’ll wake Yamaguchi. ’

‘ We’re going out in the morning, anyway. It only makes sense. ’

He does it until, one morning, you roll over and lean your chin on his chest, looking up at him with those doe eyes he likes so much.

‘ You do realize I’ve already agreed to let you keep staying here, right? We talked about it that first morning.’

He’d remembered. He just hadn’t been sure if you’d meant it. But since you’d brought it up again, he’d stopped asking. He’d just allowed himself to get used to falling asleep and waking up next to you.

It makes sleeping on his own for two nights a week utter hell. He can’t get to sleep no matter what he tries. The only thing that works is falling asleep on a video call with you, like a stupid, lovesick teenager. He’s terrified you’ll tell Kiyoko, who would immediately tell Yamaguchi, who would never let him live it down. But it seems you’re just as shy about it, about the fact that you’ve become dependent on each other to do something as simple as sleep.

And sleep is all you do. He’s never dared to cross a line with you in bed. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t try anything, not there, and he’s stuck to it. He lets himself kiss you stupid on the couch before bed, and in your kitchen when you make him coffee before class, and against the wall of your bathroom when your outfit and makeup look a little too good on you.

But never in bed. It’s too tempting – you’re too tempting. And you have no fucking clue.

You just prance around your apartment in those stupid little shorts, with your stupid little smile and that stupid little way you say his name–

‘ Tsukki!’, your giggle excited and your eyes bright.

‘Hey, Tsukki-’, your tone distracted while you sort through mail.

‘Tsukki…’, your eyes wide and your voice whiny while you ask him for something.

It drives him crazy. It makes him want to grab your face and kiss the pout right off your mouth. It makes him want to buy and do anything you want, even when you want nothing at all. It makes him want to whisper your name and admit things that he shouldn’t.

But nothing makes him want to do any of those things more than when you say his name properly, with a little edge in your voice.

‘ Tsukishima.’ , your hands on your hips and your eyebrows arched in annoyance.

‘I swear, Tsukishima- ’, your breath sharp and shallow because you’re stopping yourself from picking a fight.

‘ Tsukishima… ’, your lips close and your eyes twinkling with amusement, because you remember the things he’d been drunk enough to admit at that party.

When the syllables of his name stack in your mouth like that, he’s overcome with thoughts that one should never have about a friend. Thoughts of pinning you up against the wall and daring you to say his name like that again. Thoughts of bending you over the side of the couch and showing you just how in charge you really are. Thoughts of kissing you in that tiny bed, and then making you cry in it, your face buried in the sheets and his name – ‘ Tsukki, please- ’ – whined so prettily.

But he doesn’t do any of that. He just watches you use his name in that scolding, reprimanding way, and he smiles. He sits there and smiles and pretends that every fiber of his very being isn’t aching to show you how to use that smart ass mouth of yours.

And yet, despite the torture, he stays. He stays, waking up next to you every morning and enduring the pain of your presence, and he has no idea why. Maybe it’s the way you hum to yourself while you make breakfast and wince when your coffee’s too hot, because it somehow always is. Maybe it’s the way you think aloud when you do chores, your grocery list rattled off while you stand in the corner folding laundry. Maybe it’s the way you gravitate toward him as if on some biological clock, every half hour marked by your fingers combing through his hair while he works or your arms wrapping around him from behind while he’s putting his shoes on to leave for practice.

Maybe it’s the way you treat him exactly the same but completely different.

You’re the girl he’s always known, rolling those pretty little eyes and telling him without hesitation when he’s being an idiot. You still judge him when he says stupid shit, and you’re still strong about your boundaries and your ability to hold a grudge. But… something’s different.

You sit closer lately, your legs draped over his knee and your side pressed against his. You let him kiss you even when you’re mad, and sometimes – sometimes — that’s all it takes to get you to forgive him. You call him on your way home from class – not because you have anything specific to say, but because you simply feel like talking his ear off while you walk.

He’s not sure which of these things is the reason he stays, but he thinks about every single one. He thinks about them, and he seeks them out. He calls you on the days that you forget to call him yourself. He takes his headphones off if he sees you go into the kitchen, because the chance of hearing you hum off-key is high. He gravitates to you when you’re too immersed in work to pay attention to him, his body draping over yours. He pulls you into the spot between his legs when you watch TV, because sometimes, having your legs hooked over his knee isn’t enough. Sometimes, he wants your back against his chest and your thighs in his hands, your head against his shoulder and your breathing synchronized with his own.

God, he thinks he’s obsessed with you.

Maybe that’s why – on Friday nights, when Yamaguchi and Kiyoko come over – his roommate always looks at him a little too long, the freckled boy staring in suspicion. Tadashi plays along with Kiyoko’s jokes about the two of you, but his eyes are always narrowed when no one’s looking, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips before he looks away. And, when Kei inevitably mumbles that he’ll be staying the night instead of going home with Yamaguchi, maybe that’s why his roommate always meets his eyes evenly, like he’d been expecting it.

Maybe that’s why, on a Saturday morning in mid-December, he finally gets tired of watching your body insecurity get in the way of everything. In the way of that stupid little smile he’s starting to fall for, in the way of the sweet way you say his name. In the way of you seeing how painfully obvious it is that he’s obsessed with you.

It’s that Saturday morning in mid-December that he finally loses his mind, in that tiny bed with you.

–

He wakes on that cold morning to you shifting beside him, wrapped up in his arms. Your back is pressed to his chest, one of his arms wrapped snugly around your middle and the other tucked under your head. You wriggle against him, and, in his half-groggy state, he genuinely wonders if you’re trying to start something with him (later, he chalks that one up to wishful thinking).

You shift again, your hips moving under his arm, and he hums.

“‘s up?” He says, sighing into your hair and pulling you tighter against him. You curve your back protectively when he does, one of your hands coming down on his wrist.

“Uhm,” You mumble. “Can you… Uhm-”

It’s the discomfort in your voice that clues him into the fact that something’s going on with you.

He peels one eye open and examines you, and, when he still doesn’t understand what’s happening, he opens his other eye and lifts his head. You’re holding your phone with one hand, the screen displaying a comment posted under a photo of the two of you.

[8:54 AM] keisgirl : is it me, or is she gaining weight?????

It’s one of the most-liked comments, with the replies underneath it varying from neutral agreement to outright hateful bullshit.

You haven’t realized that he’s seen your phone. “Could you let me go, please?” You ask, in a voice so small and vulnerable that he’s tempted to listen to you. But he doesn’t, because he knows what this is. This is you falling back in on yourself, closing your body off to him because you don’t want him to touch or look at you.

He sits up quickly, ignoring the noise of surprise you make when his arm slides out from under your head. He snatches your phone away and turns his back to you, scrolling through the comments.

“Tsukki-” You say, recovering and sitting up. You press your chest to his shoulder, reaching for your phone, but he just brushes your hand away, shamelessly pulling up the rest of your open tabs. He knows he shouldn’t, but he needs to check.

Unfortunately, he knows you a little too well.

The Trajectory of Frogs’ Tsukishima Kei’s Relationship with Plus-Sized Girlfriend: Will They Last?

Y/l/n Y/n: In Love or Gold-Digging?

How to Lose Weight in Time for the Holidays

30 Pounds in 30 Days: New Diet Takes World by Storm

Kei’s not sure he’s ever been this angry before. He stares emptily down at your phone, finally letting you pluck it out of his open palm. His hands shake just slightly, and he knows you can see them by how still you are.

“ Tsukki, ” You whisper after a moment. “I-”

“Are you out of your mind?” He says, his voice devoid of emotion.

“I just-”

He whirls on you, eyes alight. “Are you out of your mind , Y/n?” He jabs a finger at your phone. “What are you gonna do, starve yourself because of something that someone on the internet said?”

“It’s not just one person,” You argue weakly. “I’ve been gaining wei-”

“So?” He barks. “So what? I can’t tell.”

You roll your eyes, and he actually feels his eye twitch. “I think you’re a little biased, Tsukki-”

“No,” He says. Laughs, because you’re really going to make him lose it this time. “No, I’m not biased. I’m important.” He rips your phone from your hand again, dropping it on the nightstand as he turns in place and climbs over you. “After everything, you still listen to a bunch of shitheads who know nothing about you. And then you call me biased, because I have an accurate fucking opinion about how you look.”

You gasp when he puts a hand on your shoulder, shoving you down on the mattress. He grabs your thighs and pries them open, settling himself between them. “Why did you want me to let you go, Y/n?”

You swallow hard. “I… I don’t know-”

“You didn’t want me to touch you. Why?” He anchors his hands to your waist, dragging you toward him. “Did you think I was suddenly going to change my mind if I could feel your body? That I was going to feel you under my hands and realize that I was repulsed by you? That I only like you with your clothes on, that I hadn’t considered what might be under them? Is that what you were scared of?”

You don’t answer him for a moment, so he grips your hips tight, his thumbs sure to leave prints on your skin later. “Yes,” You whisper finally, shutting your eyes. “I just… don’t feel pretty-”

“Look at me,” He says, a heated sigh leaving him. You don’t, so he tugs on your thighs hard. “ Look at me, Y/n.”

You pry your eyes open, staring into his own with trepidation.

“Now listen to what I’m about to say to you,” He snaps. “Can you do that, for once ? Or are you going to keep acting stupid? Because I’m not in the habit of having stupid friends.”

Your brow furrows in irritation, and he’s glad to see it. He’s glad to see anything that isn’t that haunting insecurity. He sits back on his heels, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“What you seem to be fundamentally misunderstanding, Y/n-” He growls. “-is the idea that the way you look and the way you’re shaped is something that is, without a doubt, unattractive. You think your body is something that no one would ever want to touch — you don’t seem to fucking comprehend that some people might like the way you feel.”

He squeezes your hips once. “ Some people might like that they can hold you like this – that the more of you that there is, the more that they can hold while they fuck you.” Your face is starting to turn red, and he feels immense pride for it. He anchors himself to you, shifting his weight and dragging you down against his hips, over and over again. “ Some people want to see what your body looks like when it bounces like this, Y/n-” You’re starting to gasp, and Kei’s unable to stop the way his eyes trail down the length of your body while he moves you.

“Some people are obsessed with the idea of making you look like this,” He says, his own breath coming short for a moment. “Because some people want to rail you, and no one could ever look as good getting railed as you would.”

“Tsukki,” You whisper, your chest rising and falling sharply with each gasp. He stops moving you – lets you breathe for just a moment – and slides his hands up your sides, his palms absorbing the heat in your skin while his fingers fan out greedily over your ribs. Your shirt rises with his movement, and he stops when the fabric is bunched up under your breasts. His fingertips skim the skin there, notably missing that lacy underwire that’s always kept him at bay.

He’d noticed that you don’t wear a bra to bed – of course you don’t, that would be unreasonable to expect, even with him here – but fuck, if he isn’t just now realizing what that means. He chews on the inside of his bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily.

The moment to breathe seems to have been enough for you, because your fingers close around his wrists. His first thought is that you’re stopping him from going further, that maybe he should back off. But you don’t push him away.

If anything, your eyes seem glazed over with desire, your breath still coming a little short.

“ Tsukki ,” You breathe, shifting your hips against his carefully — there’s no way you can’t feel how hard he is right now. Your voice is quiet, like before, but now there’s more. More, like you want him to keep talking to you.

He can do that.

“Do you believe me yet?” He says. His voice shakes with his breath, and he swallows hard to hide how you’re affecting him. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

When you don’t answer him this time, he can’t tell if it’s because you really don’t have an answer, or if it’s because you’re fucking with him. Because the way your eyes drag down his body – the way you open your thighs an inch more and press your hips against his gently, an invitation – makes him think you might be fucking with him.

“I’m just,” You mumble, your legs starting to wrap around his waist. “I dunno, Tsukki.”

You must be fucking with him.

“No?” He says, his hands sliding down to hook under your thighs and peel them off of him. Your eyes widen, his own narrowing. He extracts himself from between your legs, as much as he doesn’t want to, and tosses your legs sideways onto the bed. You gasp, alarmed, and he grips your waist, hoisting you up by force and turning you over. You scramble to catch yourself, your hands and knees hitting the mattress.

“What-”

Kei sits up behind you, finding his place on your hips again and yanking you back. Your ass presses against him, and he holds you there, no matter how hard you wriggle. Your heavy breathing is audible, and he’s thankful for it, because the way you’re moving against him is not making his own breath very quiet at all.

“Still not sure, sweetheart?” He says, flattening a hand against your back and pushing down on it. You collapse on your elbows with a yelp, and he slides his fingers up and takes a fistful of your hair. “How about this-” He snaps his hips forward, feeling his thighs slap against yours and your ass ripple from the force. You choke out a moan, and he does it again, against his better judgment.

“You think the right guy wouldn’t die to feel you like this, Y/n? You think he wouldn’t do anything for a chance to make you sound like this?”

You moan again in response, and his stomach flips with excitement – because the syllables that had just stacked in your mouth were undeniably those of his own name.

He rocks his hips into yours again as he uses his hold on your hair to yank you up. Your breath catches in your throat, and you lift up blindly, so trusting and sweet while he pulls you back against his chest.

“What was that, princess?” He says, breathless and embarrassingly eager. “What’d you say?”

Your lips purse, and he knows he was right, because you’re looking up at him with embarrassment. He releases your hair, his hand coming down to wrap around the column of your throat. He stares down into your eyes, feeling your pulse skip under his palm.

“ Again, Y/n ,” He whispers, watching goosebumps break out over your skin. Two syllables fill your mouth, the same he’d heard the first time.

“ Tsukki.”

He’s so fucked.

Releasing you, he plants a hand on your back and shoves you onto your stomach, handling you roughly as he turns you back around. He clambers between your legs, relishing the way your thighs open and wrap around his waist, so welcoming. He cages you in, hovering over you as he stares. You stare back, eyes wide and breath short.

And then he stops, because he knows he should.

He has to.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, eyes searching your face. You seem taken aback by his question, your brow furrowing.

And then you blink, and your eyes clear.

And, for all that he’s silently begging you to say yes – begging for this to be such a simple choice for you – he’s glad he asked. Because he can see the realization starting to hit you. That this will go somewhere, somewhere fast and irreversible, if you say yes.

You swallow, and then your eyes look away from his, and he takes that as his answer.

“Okay,” He sighs, hanging his head. “Okay.” He starts to lift away from you, but your hands are on his biceps.

“Wait.” You search him anxiously. “Tsukki, I- I just…”

“I know,” He says, nodding. He’s a little disappointed — mostly just a little hard and more than a little horny — but there’s no world in which he’d rather you do something you’re not sure about. “It’s okay. I know. That’s why I asked.”

You look like you want to cry. “Are you mad at me?”

He glares down at you. “Seriously?”

“I feel like I led you on-”

“Y/n, of course I’m not fucking mad at you.” He sighs, slowly extracting himself from between your thighs and sitting beside you. “I’m not that guy-”

“I know!” You sit up on your knees, hands on his shoulders. “I know, Tsukki. I just… Are we good?”

He laughs tiredly, dropping his head back against the wall. “ Yes , Y/n. We’re good. I’m not gonna make you do something you’re not ready for.”

You shake him. “But are we good, Tsukki? Us?”

He looks at you, taking you in. You look so scared. And as much as he wants to yell at you, to snap at you for being this worried that he would be upset with you over this, he knows he can’t. Not when you’re this scared.

“Will you please stop listening to other people? I really can’t keep doing this. I mean it this time,” He says. You pause, and then you nod. He lifts his brows. “You believe me? You trust me?”

You give him a shy laugh, your face radiating heat. “I think you kind of… made it clear what you think. I believe you, Tsukki.”

He tries to fight the blush that’s rising. He’d really lost his mind there. “Then, yes,” is all he says, pushing your hair behind your ear and taking your face in one hand. “We’re good. I promise.”

You sniffle, but you nod, and the doe eyes you give him make his heart skip. “Okay. Thank you. I… I’ll be ready soon, I swear-”

“You don’t have to promise me something like that, Y/n. You don’t have to be ready soon, and it doesn’t even have to be me.” He bumps his forehead against yours, the closest he can come right now to shaking you in frustration.

“It’ll be you,” You admit, glancing away nervously. Kei thinks his heart actually stops in his chest when he hears that.

“You’re… Are you sure?” He says, barely a whisper. “It doesn’t have to be.”

You just laugh, watery and sweet and perfectly capable of killing him where he sits. “Of course it’ll be you. Don’t be stupid.”

“ Me? ” He can’t help but laugh, sharp and full of disbelief. “You’re telling me not to be stupid? Are you joking?”

When he ropes you into his arms and starts berating you for being stupid, you only giggle and let him, and he thinks — not to be dramatic or anything — that he might just do anything to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

He’s so fucked.

–

He goes home later that day, to get some more clothes and because Tadashi’s going home for Christmas.

When he enters the townhouse – brushing off the paparazzi at the gate asking if he plans to move in with you since he’s spending so much time at your place – he finds his roommate rushing around the house in a flurry of open suitcases and screaming.

“Uh-” Kei ducks as a pair of boxers goes flying over his head. “Are you okay ?”

“ I overslept! ” Yamaguchi screeches from upstairs. “ I stayed on the phone with Lev too late last night, and now I’m going to miss the train! ”

Kei lifts his brows, finding a safe place in the armchair and watching the destruction unfold in their living room. “So… things are good with him, then?” Yamaguchi had been on a few dates with the aspiring model since Halloween, and Kei had heard him talking recently about officially seeing him. “Gonna introduce him to your family soon?”

“ You shut your ass! ” Tadashi yells. “ I’d say the same about you and Y/n, but your family already knows her! Didn’t she have a massive crush on Aki when we were kids?! ”

Kei flushes, scrubbing at his brow. “We’re not dating, Dashi,” He murmurs. “And, yes, she did. It was annoying.” Tadashi reenters the room at a high speed, flying down the stairs with clothes piled high in his arms.

“You sure about that?”

“About the two years she was convinced she would marry my brother? Yes, I’m sure.”

“About you dating, dumbass.”

Kei sighs. “I know. I’m sure about that, too.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me or Kiyoko.” His roommate shrugs, reconsidering one of his shirts and tossing it on the couch.

“Yeah?” Kei laughs nervously. “How’s it look?”

“Looks like you’re madly in love with her, to be really honest-” Tadashi cuts off, seeing Kei pick up the throw pillow behind him. “ Don’t give me brain damage right now, please. I’m too busy.”

“I’m not in love with her,” Kei mumbles, setting the pillow in his lap.

“Dude, you’re obsessed with her.” Tadashi sits on his pile of clothes, shoving it into his suitcase with his ass. “You’d bottle her farts and smell them throughout the day if you could.”

“You’re really romantic, you know that? Lev into that kinda thing?” Kei says, growing frustrated. He knows he’s obsessed with you. He knows . He’d all but admitted it to you in bed this morning.

“Look,” Tadashi says, running into the bathroom and throwing literal bottles out the door and across the length of the living room. Kei watches, impressed, as he racks up a high success rate of getting them in his suitcase. “You’re staying at her place all the time, you only come home to get clothes-”

“And for our Tuesday nights!”

“-you fall asleep on the phone with her if you do sleep here-”

“Who told you that!”

“-and your face turns a really weird shade of red whenever I bring this up.” Tadashi points at him now. “Kinda like that.”

It is rather warm in here.

“Just think about it,” Tadashi continues, slamming his suitcase shut and zipping it up with shockingly minimal struggle. “You have all of Christmas Break. Kiyoko’s busy with Kyoutani, and I won’t be here, so you don’t need to come home at all.” He stands the suitcase up with a huff and then stares down at it with hands on his hips, proud of his work. “Kiyoko tells me Y/n’s also having a hard time.”

Kei perks up, following him to the foyer and watching him put his coat on. The words ‘ it’ll be you ’ float through his head, and it’s suddenly a lot warmer in here. “What’d she say?”

Yamaguchi eyes him. “Exactly what I just told you. That you two are acting like idiots who don’t know how to speak to each other.” He rolls his suitcase to the door. “Stop dancing around each other and make this official. Not labeling things is going to end up with one or both of you heartbroken.”

So you had talked to Kiyoko about this.

Yamaguchi leans in, squeezing Kei in a tight hug and then slapping him on the back. “Go get ‘em, Tiger-er. Frog.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Kei staring at the front door with a mumbled ‘ have a safe trip ’ echoing in the empty foyer.

–

Tsukki stays with you through Christmas.

After that morning in your bed, you have an irrational worry that – when he goes home to say bye to Yamaguchi – he might never come back. You pace your apartment for an hour after he’s gone, eventually calling Kiyoko to freak out. You severely regret that decision, because she spends the better half of another hour laughing in your ear about how you’d almost fucked your best friend. She does calm down, eventually, and it’s to remind you that Tsukki’s never lied to you.

He’s never lied to you, and he’d told you he wasn’t mad at you, so you have to believe him. You have to believe him about everything , because that’s all he’s asking of you.

So you hang up the phone, wishing Kiyoko ‘ good luck and good fucking ’ before she leaves for a date with Kyoutani, and you sit on the couch with the TV on. You stare at the screen and pretend to know what’s happening, only checking your phone sixteen times over the course of another few hours. And when there’s a knock at your door, you only pounce off the couch before catching yourself, managing not to run all the way to the door.

And, God, are you glad that you did everything you could to remain calm. Because, when you open the door, Tsukki’s standing there holding dinner and looking through his duffel bag like he’s checking that he didn’t forget anything. He’s standing there, completely normal, like you hadn’t all but asked him to fuck you and then promptly rejected him only hours earlier.

He just looks at you, hair dusted with snow and nose tipped red from the cold, and asks if you’re okay. Because you’re just standing there staring at him like it’s Christmas morning, not letting him in. You do let him in, and you eat dinner together, and then you go to bed together. And you’re scared that being in that bed with him again might be awkward, but he just climbs sleepily between your legs and falls asleep with his head on your chest.

It doesn’t come up again until Christmas Day.

—

On Christmas morning, you wake to the conflicting smell of coffee and something burning. Sitting up, you look directly into the kitchen, seeing smoke and a towel waving through the air.

“What are you doing?” You gasp, rolling out of bed and rushing over to where Tsukki is coughing and waving his arms.

“My fucking best!” He sputters, fanning a hand in front of his face. “What does it look like?”

You round the bar, yanking the smoking pan off the stove and dumping its contents in the trash. You roll your eyes when he whines ‘ my beautiful breakfast’ somewhere behind you. “What were you trying to make?”

“Eggs,” He grumbles, and you can’t help but shoot him an amused grin.

“Finally, something the Great Tsukishima Kei absolutely sucks at.”

“I suck at most things that aren’t volleyball and school.”

“Well, thank God for that,” You snicker, throwing the pan back on the stove and turning to plant a kiss on his mouth. “If you’re gonna be good at something, I would hope it’d be your job .”

He grumbles briefly but just wraps his arms around your waist and follows you around the kitchen, severely interfering with your ability to cook an actual breakfast.

“Speaking of my job…” He starts, his voice muffled in your shoulder. “I think they’re supposed to let me know soon about the contract.”

You turn in his arms, setting the carton of eggs down. “Really? When?”

“Dunno. But it’s the end of the year, so…” He looks indifferent about it, but you can see that he’s worried that they haven’t said anything so close to New Year’s Eve.

“Okay. I’m sure they’re just finalizing things, that’s all.” You card your fingers through his hair and pull him in, kissing him gently. “Do you wanna go out tonight? For dinner?”

He smiles against your mouth. “You askin’ me on a Christmas date? So cliche, princess.”

There’s no amount of money in the world that could make you admit to him how fluttery those words make you. You just kiss him again, letting him back you into the counter.

“Maybe,” You mumble. “Pick a place. My treat.”

“You’re funny,” His mouth drops to your neck. “Thinking I’d ever let you pay for anything while I’m around.”

“You let me pay for coffee that one day,” You argue pointlessly, your breath short from the way he’s nibbling on your skin.

“That’s because you’re a two-faced liar who hides the important things in a relationship.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You coo jokingly. “Can I make it up to you?”

He groans, laughing after. “You know exactly how that sounded.”

“Yep,” You say, finally pushing him off of you and returning to the eggs on the counter. “Pick somewhere nice for dinner. It’s Christmas!”

He grumbles through the morning, your giggles filling the rest of the air, and you exchange gifts after breakfast. You’d made him a photo album of all the most ridiculous pictures you’ve taken together over the last few months. He’d gotten you a necklace that he’d watched you ogle in the window every single time you’d passed by, always claiming that it was too expensive and that you didn’t need it, anyway. He helps you put it on – kissing down the curve of your neck and over your shoulders and whispering that you’re even prettier now – and you sit in his lap with the photo album open, trying your very hardest not to kiss him silly every time he laughs that bright, genuine laugh that always makes your heart beat harder.

Around dinnertime, you get ready, asking what kind of restaurant he’d picked and rolling your eyes when all he says is ‘ a nice one ’. You pull out your best dress – a floor-length, wine red little number – and then you watch as Tsukki loses all concentration, his tie dangling pathetically in his hands.

“Ready?” You say, stepping out of bathroom as you finish pinning your hair up. His eyes drag down the length of you, and then he shakes his head dumbly.

“Not even a little bit.”

You make fun of him all the way to his car, brushing your mouth over his in the elevator and watching with a smirk as he fights the urge to chase after you when you pull away.

The dinner goes perfectly – it’s an upscale spot that serves way too little food on plates that are way too big, but Tsukki holds your hand the whole time and looks at you like he’s never looked at you before. It makes you nervous, but he just smiles when you blush, mumbling that he likes that look on your face. You wonder what’s gotten into him, but you decide to let it go in favor of sharing a glass of wine with him and giggling when his face starts to flush from the alcohol.

He’s decently nice to the reporters outside the restaurant, either feeling relaxed from the drink or too busy pulling you away from Nariko, who you’re chatting up with a wine-tinted bubbliness that makes the other reporters scowl. She just squeezes your arm and tell you to have a merry Christmas, and Tsukki busies himself with leading you by the hand down to his car. You don’t see it, but you find out a few hours later on Twitter that he’d pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and stuffed it in Nariko’s hand, telling her to go home to her family for the holidays. The pictures online had all shown Nariko’s awe-stricken face and the jealousy of much meaner reporters who’d never gotten the time of day from Tsukishima Kei.

He takes you to a pizza place down the street after leaving the restaurant, where you split a large supreme pizza and complain about how little food there was at the expensive place. You ask if they charge for air, and he jokes that they probably charge for smelling the food. You crack shitty jokes and fight over the last slice, and then you watch with thinly veiled affection as Tsukki signs the t-shirts of some young boys who’ve run over from the next booth over. He even gives them a small smile when they say he’s their favorite Frogs player, and then he gives you a large one when they turn to you and ask what it’s like to date someone famous.

‘ It’s a pretty sweet gig, ’ You tell them, leaning in conspiratorially. They lean in, too, eyes twinkling. ‘ I get to see a side of him that no one else does. Kind of like having a secret identity.’

They run off, claiming to their mother that Tsukki’s a superhero. Or a spy. They can’t decide.

Tsukki takes you home soon after, intertwining his fingers with yours and running his lips back and forth over your knuckles absentmindedly while he drives. When you get home, you change into sweats and take all your makeup off, realizing only then that Tsukki looks at you the same way even while you stand there in old, ratty clothes and mascara smeared under your eyes.

He just watches you, his eyes flicking away but always coming back, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s with you, tonight, huh?” You finally say, curled up against his side. There’s some trashy movie on, but you can’t bring yourself to focus – not with him sliding his fingertips across the strip of skin that peeks out from under your shirt, over and over again until you start to shiver with each pass.

“Nothing,” He says, glancing down at you and then back at the TV. “Just… I dunno, it’s Christmas.”

You smile up at him, your eyes twinkling. “You’ve never been one for Christmas spirit , Kei.”

“Well, maybe I am now.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s nice to just spend it with you and do nothing else.”

“We spend every Christmas together,” You argue, smiling wider when he just squeezes you.

“‘s different,” He mumbles. You give up on bullying him, your heart warming and your skin prickling with happiness. It is different. Things are different. Every moment with him feels realer than the last, like you could do anything with him because you know it’ll be okay.

You look up at him, examining the way his lips start to tug up when he senses you watching him. Finally, his eyes drop to yours, honey-golden and warm, and you lean up to kiss him.

You barely manage to brush your lips to his when his phone rings in his pocket.

He leans back but keeps his eyes on your mouth while he extracts his phone, not looking at the Caller ID before lifting it to his ear.

“Hello?” He watches your mouth still, distracted.

And then he blinks, eyebrows furrowing as he looks away.

“Okay..?” He says, retracting his arm from your waist and standing slowly. Your heart starts to drop as you watch him pace the space between the couch and your bed. Who is he talking to? Is something wrong?

“Okay,” Tsukki says, blinking rapidly. “Okay. Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” He sighs. “Yeah. That’s-Thank you.”

And then he hangs up, and you watch him stare down at his phone, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Tsukki…?” You whisper after a moment, officially worried. When he looks at you, though, you see it.

The relief in his eyes.

“They’re signing me.” He stares. You stare back. And then his mouth breaks in a smile, and he looks you over. “They’re signing me, Y/n. They’re throwing an event on New Year’s Eve.”

“What?!” You jump over the back of the couch, launching yourself at him. He hoists you up and laughs, that beautiful, bright laugh that you can’t live without now. “Tsukki!” You wrap your legs around his waist, burying your face in his neck and squealing.

“Holy shit,” He breathes, laughing in disbelief. “Holy shit, we did it.” And then, when you lift your head to smile down at him, he uses one hand to grab the back of your head and drag you in for a kiss. “ Fuck, we did it. You did that ,” He mumbles against you. “ Thank you. ”

You shake your head, dropping your legs and kissing him while he sets you down. “ You did that, Tsukki,” You say, turning and heading into the kitchen. “You’re amazing, you know that?” You search through cabinets, extracting two bottles of wine. You brandish them at him with a grin. “We have to celebrate!”

He looks between the two bottles, chewing on his bottom lip, but you see the smile peek through after a second. “Yeah… Yeah, I’d say both bottles are necessary.”

“To celebrate. Properly,” You justify.

His grin is wide now. “Properly.”

–

Celebrating properly ends up – somehow, some way – involving Tsukki’s lips on your throat and his fingers tangled in your hair. He smells like wine, and your head is swimming from him and the alcohol.

You’re laid back on the couch, hair fanning out around you and legs wrapped around him. He’s got his other hand on your waist, inching higher and higher every few seconds and taking your shirt with it.

“ Tsukki ,” You whisper, your fingers locked in his hair and your back arched until your chest presses to his. “ Please. ”

He groans against your throat. “ We can’t ,” He slurs, shaking his head. “‘r not ready-”

You whine, using your grip on his hair to pull his head back up. You kiss him heatedly, moaning when your shirt bunches up around your breasts, his fingers stalling there but sliding hesitantly under the hem.

“Doesn’t have to be-” Your breath stutters, because his hips are moving unconsciously against yours, and you can feel how hard he is. “Doesn’t have to be everything-”

He seems to like that answer, his kiss growing rushed. “Really? You sure?”

“Yeah-yes-” You nod furiously. “Please. Please. ”

He sighs roughly, pulling away from you and sitting up. You barely have time to breathe before you’re being lifted through the air and dragged into his lap. You gasp, your head spinning, as he turns you quickly in place. Your back slams against his chest, and his mouth drops to the junction of your throat.

You reach up, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tsukki,” You sigh, feeling his heart beating against your back. He slides his arms around your waist.

“You’re sure?” He asks again, his voice low and humming through your skin. You nod, eyes half-closed and staring blankly at the movie that’d you’d lost track of a long time ago. You sigh in relief and close your eyes when he pushes his lips against your throat, the scene in front of you lost as you breathe him in.

With your eyes shut, you feel him more intensely. The warmth of his lips on your skin, the way his hands start to slide across your sides, your t-shirt falling over his wrists. He stops just below your breasts, nipping his teeth on your throat to get your attention.

“ Last chance ,” He whispers.

You arch your back, grinding your ass subtly back into him. You feel his cock twitch against it, and he bites down harder on your shoulder.

“Was that your answer?” He breathes, his hands growing more certain on your skin.

“ God , Kei,” You laugh. “Do something before I do.”

You feel him smile before anything else.

He slides one hand back down around your waist, using his arm to anchor you to him. His other hand slides up, and you gasp, feeling his palm cup your breast.

“ Oh -” You arch your back again, your head falling back against his shoulder. You’d noticed how big his hands are over the months together, but you’d never really realized .

He keeps you flush to him while his fingers roam eagerly over your chest, the pads of his fingertips rough and calloused from volleyball. He kneads one breast, his palm as searing hot as the kisses he trails along your throat, and then he switches to the other. His fingers tweak and pluck at your nipples, teeth blunt on your shoulder and his other arm holding you tight as you start to wriggle and moan.

You dig your hands into his thighs, the fabric of his sweats balled up in your fists. Your head swims, face warm and skin sweaty, and you loll your head back and forth on his shoulder. “Tsukki, please,” You moan, unconsciously spreading your thighs and pushing them against his. He notices, the hand on your waist squeezing once.

“Want more, princess?”

“Please, fuck-” You want to growl when he takes his hands off of you, but the brief disappointment is replaced with a distinct thumping of your heart when he hooks both hands under your knees and pries your thighs open, hanging your legs over the sides of his knees. You feel briefly vulnerable sitting like this, but he just slides his hand back under your shirt and continues to play with you.

“Comfortable?” He asks, his other hand toying with the waistband of your pants. You nod, your breathing growing heavy when his thumb slips under the band. “You sure?”

“Tsukishima, I swear-” You gasp, feeling him tug hard on your nipple. He snickers against your shoulder, whispering ‘ so easy ’ into your skin as he pushes his other hand past the band of your sweats. He doesn’t bother stopping there, fingertips slipping past your panties and finally pausing right over where you need him.

“ Mm- ” You purse your lips hard to keep from moaning too loud. But your head fills with static and your stomach flips over itself again and again while he swipes teasing circles over your clit.

“C’mon, princess,” He breathes smugly into your ear, but you hear him swallow hard as his fingers dip lower and slide through your folds. “You’re not gonna let me hear you? After everything?”

His fingertips are hot against you, and you become suddenly aware of how much larger his fingers are than yours. You feel — horrified, truly — as you become wetter against his hand. Tsukki’s smile is wide against the shell of your ear.

“What happened, baby?” He whispers, nudging the tip of his middle finger against your entrance. “If there’s something you want, you gotta ask for it.”

You just lift your hands to your face, hiding. Tsukki lifts his own hand away from you before coming down quickly, the slap sharp against your core. You yelp, hands flying to hold onto his arms and face burning as he soothes the pain by running his fingers through your folds. There’s a soft squelch that echoes in the room and makes him chuckle low against your head.

“ I think your pretty little pussy likes me, princess ,” He whispers, the hand on your chest sliding up through the collar of your shirt and resting on the base of your throat. “ Better ask fast, before I lose interest. ”

You whine, your heart pounding against his hand. “Please, Tsukki…”

“Yeah?”

You tighten your hold on his arms, nervous. “Please finger me?”

“Aw,” He coos, laughing gently as he swipes more circles over your clit, still gentle. “That’s so sweet, baby. But you can do better.”

“What?” You whine, turning your head and burying your face in his neck. Your throat pushes further into his hand, and you feel yourself get impossibly wetter when he tightens his grip.

“You can ask better than that,” He mumbles, and you feel his cock twitch against your back when you clench, his fingers sliding patiently back and forth.

“Uhm-” You shudder, because he’s switched to flicking his fingertips against your clit. “I-”

“ Come on, Y/n, ” He whispers against your head. He starts to tap his fingers, one and then the other. “ I’ll stop if you don’t ask soon.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest, and you shake your head. “Please don’t-”

“Then ask me-”

“I did- ”

“ Ask me, Y/n- ”

“ Please , Tsukki!” You yell, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to think about how your voice bounces on the walls. “I need you to stuff your fingers in my cunt and fuck me before I lose my fucking mind -”

He groans loudly, drowning you out, but your voice cuts short anyway, because he’s sliding his middle two fingers down and pushing them roughly into you.

“Oh, my- Tsukki- ” You gasp, his name ripped from your throat.

“ Fuck- ” He groans, sliding his fingers out and slamming them back into you. “ Y/n- ”

You purse your lips to muffle yourself, wriggling and arching your back, your throat pressing into his hand. “Tsukki, fuck.”

“God, you’re so pretty, baby,” He whispers, his breathing rough and shallow. “You feel so good-” His chest heaves against your back, and your head fills with white noise, a ringing in your ears as you feel nothing except the way his fingers stretch you out, his palm slapping against your clit over and over again until you feel like your skin is on fire. “You’re doing so- so good with my fingers-“ He cuts off, moaning and pressing his face into your hair when you clench hard around his fingers. “ Fuck , Y/n-“

“Please,” You whimper, knowing how desperate you sound. “More, Tsukki, please-”

“Baby-“ He laughs, his voice strained. “I don’t know-”

“ Please , Tsukki. Please, I need you-“

He slams his hand into you, stopping long enough to take a deep breath. “Y/n, I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready f-”

“I’m ready!” You scream pathetically. “Please, I promise I’m ready, I need you so bad, Tsukki-”

“Y/n-”

You know it’s only been a week since that morning on your bed. You know that he’s worried that you’re not thinking straight. But you also know that it’s him, that it’s always been him. That, above all else, he’s the one you need. That there will never be anyone else.

You think you might be in love with him.

And if that’s the case, then you’re really not seeing any reason to keep waiting.

“Tsukishima Kei, I swear to fucking God – if you don’t fuck me, I will actually start sobbing.” Your voice is already starting to crack, and your chest is heaving in large gulps of air. He moans quietly in your ear, and you think he says something to the effect of ‘ Okay, baby. I got you’, but you can’t be sure. The ringing in your ears is too strong, worsened when he quickly slips his fingers out of you. You whine at the emptiness, the sound lost in the shuffle of Tsukki lifting you into his arms and standing from the couch.

He carries you to bed in two strides, lying you down much more gently than you’d expected. Climbing over you, he slides his shirt off and drops it to the floor in one smooth motion. Your heart jumps, and you eagerly sit up to do the same, barely catching the way his eyes widen as he takes you in. And then you lie back, clutching the sheets in both hands to fight the urge you have to cover your chest. But it seems like he might be enjoying what he’s seeing, because he just hooks his fingers distractedly into your sweats and panties, his eyes roaming your body. He pulls them both off and sends them somewhere off the edge of the bed without looking.

“Shit,” He whispers, more to himself than anything. You shiver under his gaze, gathering the courage to let your thighs fall open. Cold air hits your skin, but you barely have time to whimper before his eyes are dropping. They go wide, and you watch all the air leave his lungs as he stares down at you. “ Shit ,” He says again, even quieter.

“Coming?” You breathe, reaching one hand along the sheet for him. His gaze flies to yours, golden eyes still stunned but recovering the moment he sees you looking up at him. Wordlessly, he drops down over you, his lips finding yours in a rush of heat and everything he’s not saying right now. You sigh against his mouth, holding his face and spreading your thighs further when you feel him reach down between you for his own pants. He pushes them down blindly and kicks them off into the distance, his mouth hot and his wine-laced tongue dancing along yours.

“Y/n,” He mumbles, and you tighten your hold on his face.

“If you ask me if I’m sure, I will finger myself in front of you and then kick you out.”

His laugh is the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Okay.” He nibbles on your lip and shifts his weight. You feel his cock brush along your thigh, precum smearing on your skin. “I hear you.”

You will admit that you’re nervous. As he pulls his lips from yours and glances down between you with purpose, the head of his cock bumping up against your entrance, you’re struck with anticipation and a little bit of fear that this might hurt a lot, especially considering his size. But then, as he’s using his thumb to push the tip in as slowly as possibly, his eyes flick up to meet yours.

And you remember just how sure you are.

So, even though it does hurt — the sting causing you to grip the sheet hard enough to rip it — Tsukki’s eyes are flicking back and forth between your face and your core, his brow furrowed in concentration, and you feel impossibly safe. Because he would never do anything that might hurt you.

You trust him.

“‘s this okay?” He grunts, sliding painstakingly slowly into you. You just nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth and eyes scrunched shut. He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours and forcing you to free your lip from its torture. “Y/n, if it hurts, we can stop. We don’t have to do this,” He whispers against you, but you only shake your head, whining.

“‘m okay, I promise. ‘s just new.” Your breath is shallow in your chest. “Maybe if I jus’…” You angle your hips up and spread your thighs just an inch wider, and you feel his sigh against your lips. The relief is instant for you, too, and your lungs fill with air. “Okay,” You breathe, prying your aching fingers from the sheets and stretching them. “Okay.”

“Okay,” He whispers back, his hand finding your thigh and his fingers splaying across the underside. He sighs, the sound a half-groan as he bottoms out inside of you. “Fuck.”

Your brow’s broken out in a sweat and your skin is flushed with heat, but when you open your eyes, Tsukki’s staring right back at you, gaze searching your face. You wonder what you look like, because you’re seeing awe in the way his eyes trace you.

“You okay?” His eyes track the embarrassed purse of your lips and the way you glance nervously down your body at the place where his hips meet yours.

“Are you?” You ask breathlessly, watching his arms shake as he holds himself over you.

“No,” He laughs. “This is torture.”

You beam up at him, your voice weak when you say, “You can move, Tsukki.” Your fingers find his shoulders, and he collapses onto his elbows, pressing his forehead to your chest.

“Really? I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Are you this careful with every girl? I’m starting to get a little offended-”

“ You’re not every girl ,” He says simply, muffled against your skin. Your stomach flips, and you accidentally clench around him. The sound he makes is inhuman. “ Was that necessary? ” He complains pitifully into your chest. You giggle wholeheartedly, and he shakes his head against you. “ Don’t do that either- ”

“Oh, my God, Tsukki – please just move ,” You laugh, snaking your arms around his neck and lifting his head toward you. He shifts, kissing you firmly and breathing a soft ‘ yes, ma’am ’ against your lips.

He starts slow, slow as before. His hips pull back carefully, and then he rocks forward on his knees, bumping gently up against you when he bottoms out again. The sting is still there, but he distracts you by kissing you, his lips eager on yours and his quiet moans breathless and lost in your throat. He circles your clit gently with his thumb while he does, and you start to shiver against him. Eventually, the sting subsides, and the only notice you give him is the stretch of your thighs and the shallow cant of your hips upward to meet his. His kiss falters for a moment, and the hand on your thigh tightens in surprise, but he doesn’t ask any more questions.

When he snaps his hips a little roughly, you know he’s gotten the message. You focus on breathing while he rocks his hips, pursing your lips to keep from moaning too loud. He’s breathless over you, and you’re secretly amazed to see him like this — brow furrowed and lips parted, eyes flicking between yours and then shutting briefly before finding you again. You’ve never seen his expression so unguarded before.

There’s a quiet sound that vibrates in his throat every time his hips meet yours, and you find yourself wanting to hear it properly. So you card your fingers through his hair and kiss him, whispering his name against his lips and rocking your hips up in time with his. You hear it then, clear and perfect.

“Oh- fuck- ” Tsukki groans loudly, his hand sliding urgently along the sheet in search of you. His fingers interlace with yours and latch on tight. “You feel so good-” He drops his head to your shoulder, lips hot on your throat. “God-” He laughs pathetically. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this much of a mess.”

“Tsukki,” You whisper, feeling something below your navel twist and tug. “Tsukki-I’m- mm-” You wriggle, arching your back and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Please-”

“Are you close, princess?” His voice is teasing, but you can see in the way he lifts his head, eyes searching your face frantically, that he’s eager. When you nod, his face melts into a kind of affection you’ve never seen from him before. He smiles, eyes flicking down to your mouth, and nods. “Okay, baby. Close your eyes.”

You whimper, doing as he says and immediately feeling him shift over you. His hand falls between you, fingers swiping ever so gently over your clit as his hips start to bump against yours with a little more force. You cry out, hearing the headboard slam against the wall over and over again.

“ Tsukki! ” You cant bring yourself to care anymore how loud you are, your breath coming too fast now and your reservations slipping the moment you hear him moan your name.

“You look so pretty, Y/n-so pretty like this.” He pants, his hips starting to stutter and his cock twitching inside you. The tugging in your navel worsens and peaks, and you moan his name again. He groans at the sound. “You take me so well- fuck . Feels like you were made for me.”

You gasp, feeling yourself being pulled to the edge. “Tsukki, I’m-” You shudder, fluttering around him, and he starts to breathe hard against your skin.

“Come on, baby. Let me feel you come around me.”

Your hands tighten on his hair, and you’re distantly aware of Tsukki pushing his lips to yours heatedly as you’re starting to scream. He swallows the sound, moaning as he spills into you, his hips faltering and then stopping against yours.

You stay that way for an unknown amount of time, your heart beating in your throat, ears, core, and everything else while you come down. Tsukki kisses you with languor, his teeth nipping softly on your bottom lip as he sighs against you. You swallow thickly, whispering his name after a moment.

“Hi,” He whispers back, slowly lifting his head. You scratch your nails on his scalp, and he blinks down at you sleepily. “You okay?”

You giggle. “Guess we’ll see in the morning.” His lips pull into a small smile, eyes tracing your features. You kiss him once, mumbling ‘ should we clean up? ’ against his lips.

He barks out a laugh, nodding. “Stay here.” He lifts off you slowly. “I’ll take care of you.”

You can’t find it in you to be shy about him seeing your body now, feeling all too safe and drifting quickly off to sleep, before he’s even back from the bathroom.

—

It’s still dark outside when you roll over, wincing as you stretch. You reach over for Tsukki, but your arm hits the bed instead. A noise of confusion leaves you, and you lift your head, blinking in the dark.

He’s sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled around his waist and his arms wrapped around his bent knees.

“Tsukki?” You mumble. He doesn’t seem to hear you, so you sit up, realizing with a quick glance that you’re wearing the t-shirt he’d had on before and your panties. He must have cleaned you up and dressed you. “Tsukki,” You try again, touching his arm.

He starts, turning to look back at you. “Oh. Hi.”

That’s all he says.

You pull your hand off of him, something unknown coming between you. “What’s wrong?”

He just swallows hard and shakes his head, scooting toward you. “Nothing.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and tries to guide you back down, but you brush him off.

“Tsukki.”

He stares. You stare back. He looks away and runs his fingers through his hair roughly.

“I don’t know if we should have done that,” is what he says. The words are whispered, but they echo in the silence.

You think you might throw up.

“What?”

“I just-“ He sighs, running a hand down his face. “Don’t get me wrong, okay-”

“Then don’t say something wrong, Tsukki.”

“Y/n, we were drunk-”

Oh.

You blink, scooting away from him slowly. You pull the blankets up to your chest, staring at nothing. He watches you, shaking his head.

“Y/n, just let me talk please. Don’t overdo this-”

“Don’t overdo this?” You ask, eyes wide as they land on him. “I just lost my virginity to you, and you can’t even wait two hours before trying to make your escape.”

“ No- “ He shakes his head, trying to move toward you, but you stick your foot out, stopping him. “Y/n, no. I’m just-I mean, we’re not even together-”

You flinch back at that. He sees it, and regret crosses his face. His mouth opens, but you cut him off.

“Were you dating every girl you’ve ever fucked?”

“No, but-“ He laughs. “You’re not every girl. You know that.”

“No, I thought that,” You say, finally standing from the bed and backing away toward the couch. “But you’re treating me like I’m trash that you haven’t figured out how to throw out yet!”

“No, I’m not!” He stands too, staying at the end of the bed. He seems to have realized you don’t want him near you. “I just wish we had done things right -”

“I thought they were right!” You snap. “That felt right to me, Tsukishima.”

“You know what i mean -”

“What do you want?” You throw your hands out. “What are you trying to gain from doing this? Tell me.”

“God, I’m just telling you what’s going through my head!” He tangles his fingers in his hair, tugging in frustration. “We aren’t together, and we were drunk, and I didn’t want this to be-” He shakes his head, and you get the feeling the rest of that sentence was important. But he’d stopped talking, which means he’s not willing to share it with you. So you just watch, refusing to push him for it, because you need to see what he does on his own.

“I’m just confused,” He finally mumbles. “I don’t know where to go from here. This wasn’t right.”

You stare, feeling tears prick at the back of your eyes. But you just start to laugh, even though your vision is getting blurry.

“You’re confused? ” Your laughter is shallow, pained. “You always told me to stop getting in my head about this — about us — and now you’re the one who’s confused ?!”

“We should have-”

“You told me to do whatever I feel is right-“ You snap. “-and now that I have, you’re confused ?”

“We didn’t talk about any of this!” He yells, shaking his head. “We said we wouldn’t have sex, so we never talked about what this would mean-”

“Yeah! I figured maybe that part could wait until after!” You scoff. “You know, we could have just talked about what comes next in the morning , but you decided to be confused and overthink and ruin this.”

He looks like he wants to argue, his face pinched with stress, but you just rub at your brow, breathing hard. You feel sick.

“This is why I wanted rules,” You mumble. “I knew this would happen.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then-

“You knew what would happen? That I would fuck this up?”

You meet his eyes, angry. “That you wouldn’t be able to find a way to let me down easy. That you would let me fall for you, knowing you were just going to cut me off at the end.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“No?” You point at the bed. “But you were so quick to think of how cut me loose.”

His brow furrows in irritation. “ Why do you always think the worst of me?”

“Because you couldn’t even wait one night!” You scream. “You couldn’t just be happy with me !”

He steps toward you, and you see in the moonlight that his walls have gone up. “I was not trying to cut you loose. And I have never lied to you . But you’ve always been so fucking resistant to the idea that I could ever be telling the truth.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, already turning away from you. “God forbid I tell you what’s on my mind and you actually take me seriously.” He meets your eyes evenly. “Maybe it’s you who’s looking for a way out.”

The silence in the room is suffocating.

“Get out,” You finally say.

The door slams before you have time to process that he’s gone.

The tears finally spill, and your knees hit the floor just as the wailing starts.

—

Kei throws the front door shut so hard that something falls off the wall in his foyer. He’s not sure what it is, but he’s tempted to start breaking more things. Thankfully, it’s late enough that no paparazzi were outside when he’d gotten here, or else it might have been someone’s camera on the ground again. Great way to celebrate his contract signing.

Yamaguchi wouldn’t appreciate coming home to a destroyed house, though, so he settles for stomping up the stairs hard enough that one of them creaks in a funny way when he lands on it. He slams the door to his room, too, and then he throws himself down on his bed and screams into his pillow.

He hadn’t meant to say it like that. He doesn’t know why he said it like that. He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a mistake. How could any of tonight have been a mistake with you? He just wishes he’d told you how he feels about you before things had gotten out of hand. He wishes you would have known how he feels about you while you were trusting him with your body like that.

Because then, maybe, you would have known while you were taking your shirt off that you were safe. You would have known, while you were in pain for those few minutes, that he would never hurt you. That he was trying his best, that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, that you would never have to pressure yourself to have sex because he would have been okay with stopping at any time.

He wishes he would have told you he loves you.

Maybe then you would have known.

But instead, you’d looked at him with betrayal in your eyes when he’d been stupid enough to stumble over his words. You’d taken him for all the things he’s always been, but never with you. You’d trusted him with everything, and then you’d closed yourself off in an instant, and he’d gotten frustrated because you wouldn’t hear him out.

But how could he expect you to hear him out? How could he get mad that you’d retreated into your shell and locked him out? You’d only let him in for a minute, and he’d ruined it.

He’s ruined this.

Kei doesn’t remember the last time he cried, but he makes up for it now, his pillow soaked with tears by the time he finally drifts off to sleep.

—

You spend the next day in bed, sobbing into Kiyoko’s shirt and ignoring the missed calls from Tsukki. And there are a lot of them. He calls back to back for an hour straight — Kiyoko finally has enough and answers for you, muttering ‘ the next time I see you, I’m going to curb stomp you until your teeth are gone ’ before silencing your phone and tossing it somewhere on the couch.

You fall asleep sometime before the sun sets, Kiyoko’s fingers combing through your hair soothingly. You stir a few hours later and think you hear Kyoutani’s voice, soft and deep as he mumbles ‘ he wasn’t at practice today ’ and paces your floor quietly. You fall asleep again, your traitorous heart twitching as it realizes that Tsukki might not be okay, either.

The morning of the 27th, your eyes crack open, swollen and burning, to a knock at your door. You roll over, staring emptily at it, and then you climb out of bed, thinking it’s Kiyoko, and trudge to the door.

It’s not Kiyoko.

In his defense, his eyes are as red and swollen as yours feel.

“Hi,” He croaks. You flinch at the sound of his voice.

“What do you want?” You whisper. He’s holding a plastic bag from the store, and he holds it out weakly to you now.

“I didn’t get to-” He swallows. “I should have taken care of you. After. I didn’t.”

No. You didn’t.

You take the bag, peering inside. Some snacks, a pack of muscle patches, a couple electrolyte-replenishing drinks.

A box of Plan B, sitting at the bottom.

You stare at it emptily. “Who saw you buy this?” The last thing you need is the internet witnessing your heartbreak in real time.

“Management took care of it.”

You’re not sure you’re okay with them being involved, but it’s better than Tsukishima Kei being caught buying Plan B.

You shut the bag, shoving it back at him. “Well, you can thank them for me, but I’ve actually been on birth control for years.” He blinks, taking it while staring dumbly down at you. You smile, your anger manifesting as cruelty. “So don’t worry about it, Tsukishima.” He doesn’t look so happy to hear his name used that way anymore. “I never intended to get pregnant and trap you in a loveless marriage for your fame and fortune.”

His eyebrows furrow, and his frown cuts deep. “Y/n-”

You slam the door in his face.

—

Kei doesn’t speak to you again until New Year’s Eve — until you literally have to speak to him, because he needs to text you about his contract signing.

His fingers shake while he sends it, letting you know that he’d be arriving to your place in a limo booked by the Frogs at 6pm, and then he sends you a picture of his ties, in case you want to match. You don’t respond, so he just picks the black one.

He’s terrified that you’ll decide not to go. Terrified.

But even when you send him a thumbs up (still not responding about the ties), he doesn’t feel less terrified. He just sits at the edge of his bed and stares down at his phone, his heart ripping in his chest as he scrolls through your previous messages from the last few months. All of that — all of your excited texts and flirty memes, all of his thinly veiled affection. All siphoned down to nothing in a matter of days.

He gets ready with trembling fingers, his eyes pricking with tears and then drying up as he shakes his head and blinks away every regret he’s ever had. He sits in the limo in anxious silence, watching it pull into your apartment, the lights flashing on the cameras outside.

And then he wipes his eyes and draws his shoulders back, because, while the world inside has been falling apart under his fingertips, the world outside has been going crazy over the news of Tsukishima Kei going pro.

He exits the limo and bows to a few reporters, waving politely as he waits for you. He doesn’t answer any questions, mostly because he doesn’t want anyone to get too close and see that he’s not okay. But then you come out of your apartment in a black ball gown that makes his heart wrench, and he has to fight tears again.

You smile wide at him, your eyes crinkling and your face glowing as you walk down the steps to meet him.

“You that stunned to see me?” You ask, loud enough to be heard by the paparazzi. They laugh, and you laugh with them as you step up to him. Then you lift onto your tiptoes and press your lips to his in greeting, and he has to remember to close his eyes and act like everything’s fine, even though the feeling your lips on his makes him want to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

You pull away and turn to the cameras, waving quickly before ducking through the door he’s holding open. He waves, too, and follows you, the camera shutters loud behind him.

The inside of the limo is dead silent.

You sit on the other side of the car, staring out the window as the driver pulls out to the street. Any evidence that you’d just smiled at him like he’s your world is gone. Kei just looks at you, every nerve in his body fighting to find something to say.

Finally, after five torturous minutes, he swallows. “Y/n.”

“Don’t.” You don’t bother meeting his eyes when you speak. “Let’s just get through this. In the morning, we can ask Management how to break up without making you look bad.”

His heart drops to the ground. “I don’t want to break up.”

You meet his eyes now. “I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He refuses to believe this.

“How would you know?”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know. That’s why this terrifies him.

“We’re not breaking up,” He croaks finally.

You turn back to the window. “Let’s just get through this.”

The ride to the Frogs’ gym is filled with a silence that certainly feels like he’s been dumped.

—

“-ations to Tsukishima Kei for this amazing step into professional volleyball, and we welcome him with open arms to what’s certain to be a long and fruitful career.”

Kei stands from his seat in the audience, shaking his coach’s hand firmly and bowing at the waist. The Frogs have opened the doors of their in-house conference venue – which is just a large ballroom – the back half filled with round tables and the front lined with a couple rows of chairs for the reporters. The room is capped on the far end by a podium, where his coach has just finished speaking, and a long table. There’s a chair labeled with his name there, in the center of the table, and there’s a stack of papers for him to sign.

He moves there now, glancing up at the front row and finding you staring back. Your face is masked into a perfect smile, and your expression is filled with love and support as you watch him take a seat at a table filled with his coach, manager, captain, and a brand sponsor.

But then you meet his eyes, and he can see how empty they are.

He looks down at his papers, adjusting his tie nervously. The camera flashes are making him warm, and he can’t really hear what’s being said, so he follows his coach’s lead and turns pages when necessary and signs on dotted lines, again and again and again. He’s already read the terms of his employment — they’d emailed him the hundred-page document three days ago so that he could read it and negotiate benefits before the day of the signing. That’s the only reason he’s not more nervous about this moment. He just has to flip pages and sign whatever his coach points to.

The whole process only takes five minutes, cameras flashing away over his bent head. Before he knows it, he’s standing and shaking his coach’s hand again, and then he’s being hugged by his manager and captain and taking a photo with his brand sponsor.

And then he looks at you, still sitting in the front row as reporters start to stand and approach him.

It’s almost worse that your eyes are filled with genuine warmth this time.

He answers a couple questions, but his eyes keep flicking back to you distractedly, and finally a voice speaks from the back – feminine and familiar and belonging to a reporter donning the Sendai Sports lanyard.

“I think maybe Tsukishima would enjoy a moment alone with his girlfriend — We could move to the reception tables and continue our conversations there, perhaps?”

Kei grabs his manager by the sleeve as the crowd is clearing and asks if it’s possible for the Frogs to hire Nariko as his PR rep. His manager looks up at him with surprise and says he’ll speak with her.

When Kei turns again, you’re there. His heart jumps, and he slips his arm around your waist by habit, trying not to react visibly when you tense against him.

“You asked to hire Nariko?” You say, setting a careful hand on his bicep. “That would set her up for life.”

“I know,” is all he says. Your eyes flicker with appreciation, and you step close to wrap your arms around his neck. He hugs you as tight as he can without making it obvious that he hasn’t seen you in days.

“Congratulations,” You whisper in his ear. “I’m proud of you.”

A lump grows in his throat. “Thanks.” You dont respond, and he squeezes you, because he can feel you slipping away. “I’m sorry,” He breathes.

“I can’t,” You say, stepping away. “It’s too late-”

“It’s not .” He’s starting to get desperate, the thought of you closing off to him forever pure torture. “It’s not too late-”

“Stop brushing off what I said.” Your brow furrows with annoyance, and his frustration bubbles for a moment too long.

“Why? You do it all the time.” He dips his head quickly so that the cameras don’t see the tension in his face, and he’s thankful your back is to them, because you’re outright frowning now.

“Let’s just get through this.”

“Would you please stop saying that?”

You sigh quietly, stepping close and running your hands over his shoulders in a way that appears affectionate to anyone watching. “Fix your face, Kei. I don’t want to talk about this now. Let’s just enjoy the evening, because you deserve to be appreciated for everything you’ve put into this.”

He’s amazed at your ability to think of him, even now.

“You put so much into this, too,” He whispers. You just smile bitterly.

“Yeah. And look where that got me.”

He watches you paint a loving smile on your face as you take his hand and lead him toward the reception table occupied by his teammates and Management. He does his best to pretend, even though he feels like he’s losing a piece of his soul.

—

You lean forward on the counter, staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

It’s amazing that you’ve been able to keep it together all night. You’ve clung to his arm and followed him around the room, talking to his teammates, to Management, to any reporters who had questions for you. You’ve spoken with a smile and a laugh and a twinkle in your eye, and you’ve done your best to hide how much it hurts to be close to him.

To the smell of him, clean and warm and filled with home . To the feel of him, secure and safe as he holds your waist and kisses your cheek appropriately. To the sight of him, perfect and golden and made of everything you’d fallen in love with.

It makes you sick, looking yourself in the eye and knowing you’d been lying the whole night. Especially with Kyoutani watching you like a hawk, eyes full of blatant concern. And with various members of Management quietly asking if you’re feeling okay, if there’s ‘ anything else ’ you need.

You shake it off, drying your hands and fixing your hair with a quiet sigh. Only a little more, and you can retreat to your dark cave of wallowing.

Straightening your back, you smile at yourself in the mirror and turn, leaving the bathroom and making your way down the hallway back to the reception room.

You hear him before you see him.

“ -the fuck did you say to me? ”

No. No way. He wouldnt.

There’s nervous laughter that follows, and you speed up to get to him before he says something else.

“ I’m just saying- ” You don’t know the voice well, but you think it belongs to one of the only super young reporters at the event today. “ -now that you’re officially pro, you might consider transitioning into a relationship that’s a bit more…. suited to your new lifestyle. ”

You stop short, just shy of the corner.

“Someone a bit more pleasing to the public, if you will,” The man finishes, and you stare down at nothing. You struggle to recover, too many wounds opened too soon, one after another. But you know Tsukki can’t pick a fight, not here. So you lift your head and resume your trudge to the end of the hall, only to find Nariko staring back at you.

She looks angry, and her eyes flick away from yours to stomp just out of view. Just as Tsukki’s starting to respond.

“Would the public find it pleasing if I were to beat your ass for talking about my girlfri-”

“Tsukishima,” Nariko cuts in. “It’s great to get some one-on-one time with you.” You hear the other reporter gasp and stumble, and you’re guessing Nariko’s pushed him out of the way.

Tsukki sighs at her. “Thanks for th-”

He suddenly appears in your eyeline, stumbling back a few feet, and you realize that she’s pushed him, too. You’re a bit impressed.

He looks affronted for a moment, but then your presence catches his eye, and he turns to you with wide eyes.

“Y/n-”

“As your new PR rep, Tsukishima-” Nariko says, stepping around the corner to face the both of you and create a bit of privacy. She winks at you when she calls herself by that title. “-I’d recommend not getting into a fight at a contract signing that only happened because you stopped getting into fights.”

Tsukki has the decency to look ashamed, and you nearly hug Nariko. But she just looks between you before glancing over her shoulder.

“You know… No one will notice if you’re gone for ten minutes.”

You don’t wait for any other signal, only wrapping a hand around Tsukki’s wrist and dragging him all the way down the hall to a storage closet. You throw him in and slam the door, whirling on him.

“Are you fucking insane?”

He points out the door, jaw slack in shock. “You heard what he said to me!”

“Are you lacking self-control in every way?!” You throw your hands out. “This is your day , and you come that close to ruining it?”

His jaw clenches and unclenches as he stares at you, his eyes flicking between yours. “I won’t let people talk to me like that. Not about you.”

You stare back. “I won’t let you put everything on the line for me. You can’t ruin your own life for something stupid-”

“This isn’t stupid !” He explodes. “Everything before you was stupid!” He starts to pace. “I had a shit temper, and it was easy to bait me into a fight, and I would end up in the tabloids for the dumbest shit . And you helped me! You fixed me, just like I asked you to! I’m not the same guy I was before, Y/n. But this -” He points out the door. “ You ? I can’t do it.”

You breathe hard, shaking your head. “Then let’s end this.” When his eyes only widen, you swallow. “Let’s end this now. If I’m this much of a weakness for you, let’s make them stop talking about me. We got what you needed – I fixed you, like I said I would. Your contract’s secured. You can go back to dating girls that all look the same, and we can take some time apart so I can get over you, and-” You’d started to pull the door open, but Tsukki crosses the room in two strides and slams it shut again, his hand flat on the wood.

“Y/n.” His eyes are sharp, but you can see the fear in them. “I need you to stop running from me.”

“Then stop making me run.” You reach for the door again, but he won’t budge. You stamp your foot in frustration. “Tsukki! I’m doing everything I can to preserve this friendship, but I can’t keep doing this !”

“You’re not doing everything! All you have to do is fucking listen to me -”

You back away from him into the room, shaking your head. “Why, Tsukki? So I can listen to you tell me that night was a mistake? That you ‘ never meant for it to get that far ’, that you ‘ wish things had been different ’? Well, so do I!” You yell. “I wish things had been different, too! I wish I would have known what you would do to me, so that I wouldn’t be stupid enough to go fall in love with someone who doesn’t love me back- ”

“ I do love you back!” He yells, strong and loud and full of anger. Your head snaps up, eyes finding his. His gaze is furious and hurt, and you can’t say you’ve ever seen him look at you like that before. It makes your heart ache and your chest tighten, the way his lip wobbles once before he clenches his jaw and fixes it.

“...What?” You finally say, your breath caught in your throat.

“I love you back. You stupid fucking girl.” He sounds tired. Exhausted, really.

You stare. “That was rude,” You whisper weakly. He just laughs, but it sounds like he’s near tears. He hasn’t sounded like that since high school, since that fight on your doorstep.

“Sorry, but that’s what you get with me.” He reaches for the doorknob, opening it an inch. “So now’s your time to back out.”

You stay right where you are. “Or what?”

The silence that follows seems to go on forever.

His eyes search yours, and the sliver of hope you see kills you. “What?”

“Or what, Tsukki? What do I get if I stay?”

He stares, unmoving. “You get me.”

You think you might cry.

You move to the door, watching the fight leave his eyes when he realizes you’re leaving. But you just put your hand on the door, nudging it shut. It clicks, and he stares down at you, confused.

“How long?” You ask.

His eyes flick between yours a moment as he processes your question. “I think it’s probably telling that I wanted you to be my fake girlfriend at all, Y/n.”

You blink, realization hitting you. “Did you know? This whole time?”

“No,” He laughs pathetically. “And Yamaguchi’s never going to let me live it down.”

“Why did you call that night a mistake?” You need to know, even if you’re not sure you want to hear the reason. It’s been killing you.

“I didn’t-” He sighs, rubbing at his brow. “I didn’t say it was a mistake. I said I wish I had done it right.” He meets your eyes, his own so close and golden and honest. You’d missed them. “I wanted to tell you I loved you first. Because I didn’t want you to worry that it was just a hookup.”

You hadn’t realized that his answer would drain you of all your energy. You slump, letting out an exhausted sigh. “And you couldn’t just say that?”

“Well, you couldn’t just listen .” He rolls his eyes, and you see a twinge of irritation in his brow. You laugh softly, and it worsens. “You think that’s funny, huh?” He says, staring down at you. “This could have all been avoided if you’d just heard me out, but you like to act insane.”

“And you like to say the worst things at the worst times!” You argue, half-laughing and half-angry. “Why couldn’t you wait until the morning? Why did I have to wake up and find you contemplating your whole life in the dark?”

“Because I felt guilty!” He snaps, and you’re taken aback, a little offended. He’d felt guilty for sleeping with you? “Because I was terrified I had ruined your first time by not doing it right and making this official between us beforehand. I hadn’t wanted you to be self-conscious the first time.”

You find it in you to be a little appreciative of that. That he had wanted you to know how sure he was, that you were safe with him no matter what.

And also-” He rolls his eyes. “Not for nothing, but we were drunk, and I couldn’t tell if I was too rough, and I really hadn’t wanted to hurt you -”

It seems your moment of appreciation is over.

“ Why do you keep treating me like I’m fragile?” You bite. “You kept asking, over and over again, if I was okay. If I was sure I wanted to keep going. You were so careful with me, Tsukki – Get over yourself! I’m not going to break!”

He just stares. You realize what you’ve said. You remember who you’re talking to.

“Not gonna break, huh?” He mumbles, eyes flicking down to your lips. He seems like he wants to say something else, but he holds back.

You don’t.

“Yeah. Want me to prove it?”

You watch in real time as his eyes fill with understanding.

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He says, eyes flicking between yours. You start to argue, because he’s doing it again , but he cuts you short. “With me? So soon?”

Oh.

He must not realize how badly you’ve missed him. How much it’s hitting you, now that you understand what had gone wrong between you. That you’d been stupid. That he’d been stupid.

Would it be wrong to rile him up? Probably.

“Why, Tsukki? You got a lot to take out on me?” His eyes flicker dangerously, and you take a single step closer, craning your neck back to look at him. “You got your work cut out for you. Apparently, I’m not good at listening.”

His resolve goes out the window, and he dips his head low, lips brushing yours. Your soul aches for him.

“ I can make you good at listening. ”

You smile. “ Well, you’re not gonna do it by being gentle. ”

He drags you out the door before you can even process that it’s been opened. He pulls you down the hall toward the back entrance of the conference venue, and you laugh, glancing back toward the main room.

“People are gonna notice that you’re gone, Tsukki-”

“I’ll make it up to them.” He hauls you outside, all but carrying you down the steps to the limo. There are no reporters out here, probably because they’re all inside, so it’s no issue for him to quite literally toss you into the back of the limo with reckless abandon. Your hands find him before he’s got the door all the way closed.

And then his mouth is on yours, and you feel all the things that had fallen out of place finally align again. His lips are warm and urgent, and your fingers are tight in his hair. He knocks blindly on the window separating the back from the driver’s side of the limo, and the car starts to move just as he’s pushing you down on the seat. You topple back, and Tsukki climbs over you, his mouth attaching to your throat.

“ Tsukki ,” You breathe, relief filling your lungs. He groans quietly, hands sliding your dress up your legs and over your thighs.

“ Fuck, I missed you ,” He mumbles into your skin. “This is real, right? Not a dream?”

You giggle, your chest pressing up into his, and you feel him smile wide against you. “You saying this isn’t a dream come true, Tsukishima? I can leave, if you want-”

“God, I can’t wait to fuck that attitude out of you,” He says, spreading your thighs and slotting himself between them. “How has your mouth not gotten you in trouble yet?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it,” You say, shrugging. “Might be too late, now. I’m getting pretty good at it.”

“Don’t complain when I break you,” He whispers before biting down hard on your shoulder. You moan loudly, slapping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment because the driver of this limo does not need to hear that. Tsukki laughs against you.

“You asked me not to be gentle. Are you regretting it?”

You shake your head furiously. Your stomach flips over and over on itself, and there’s that warm buzzing filling your skin that you’ve come to associate with him.

“No?” He whispers. “You like it?”

“ Mm- “ You wriggle under him, your dress sliding up as you push yourself against him. “Yeah-yes. Mhm .”

His hold on your hips tightens. “Lucky me,” He responds, a little breathless. He uses his grip to drag you down the leather seat a little more, forcing your thighs open so he can press his hips against you. You moan quietly in his ear, feeling him against your core, already half-hard.

“Need you, Tsukki.”

“Yeah? Am I supposed to give it to you just because of that?”

You get the feeling this night won’t be easy on your pride, but that’s okay. You think you might be desperate enough by the time you get home.

“I suppose that wouldn’t be fair,” You whisper, and he snickers against your skin.

“No, I don’t think it would. You’ve got a lot to make up to me.”

“How do you want me to make it up to you?”

“Patience, sweetheart,” He murmurs. “I don’t plan to do anything until I have you in my bed.”

You whine, but you can also feel the limo starting to make the slow turn into Tsukki’s driveway. He sits you up, watching you fix your dress and smiling when your cheeks flush at the state of yourself. Your skin is hot, and your thighs tremble a little, and your hair’s come undone. And yet, Tsukki looks perfectly put together.

You hide behind your hair as he helps you out of the limo and walks you to the door. Lights flash behind you, and you hear one of the reporters mumble ‘ I didn’t realize the event ended ’ to the person beside him. Tsukki starts laughing the moment his front door closes, and you groan loudly while trudging toward the stairs.

“They’re gonna know , Tsukki.”

“You embarrassed?”

“Yes! Of course I am-” Before you can turn to him, you’re air-lifted over his shoulder. You start to scream, flailing while he takes the stairs to his room.

“Good. Then I want them to know.” He sets you on your feet by his bed, and you huff, fixing your dress.

You look around while he closes the door. You haven’t been here in ages, all of your time with him spent at your place. You turn slowly, taking in the familiar sight of his room. It’s so different being here, after all this time.

You’re so distracted by his room that you aren’t prepared for the fingers he puts on your forearm or the way he spins you toward him.

You’re equally unprepared for the hand he plants on your shoulder before shoving you hard. You yelp, falling flat on your back and bouncing on his mattress. By the time you find his eyes, he’s standing over you, loosening his tie.

His eyes are cold. “What do you want to apologize for first?”

“What?” You say dumbly, watching the tie come loose. His jacket goes next, and then his white dress-shirt.

“Which one, Y/n? Listening to too many people on the internet? Not believing me when I’d flirt with you?” He leans over you, his hands flat on the bed on either side of you. “Or not hearing me out that night? Causing this whole mess.”

“I didn’t cause that alone,” You argue, and his eyebrows lift with humor.

“You’re still talking back?” He stands, reaching for the button on his pants. “Guess we’ll start here then.”

“Gonna put my mouth to use?” You joke, but there’s a rush of heat that, funnily enough, soaks your panties right through. You stare down at his hands, watching the zipper slide down and feeling your mouth water a little bit.

“You ever done this before?” He mumbles, eyes trailing down your body hungrily as he hooks a thumb into the waistband of his boxers. You nod quickly, but he just raises a brow and lifts his other hand, still holding the black tie. “Like this?”

You stare, your heart thumping with excitement. “No,” You breathe. “Can’t say I have.”

He smirks down at you, beckoning you to him with two fingers. “On your knees.”

You scramble to kick your heels off and get into position at the end of the mattress. He stands over you and holds one hand out, looking down at you in amusement when you put both wrists in his hand.

“You’re a bit eager.” When you nod, he just drops your wrists.

Your heart drops a little. “Wha-” You gasp, because he’s sliding the tie over your eyes and knotting it in the back, whispering ‘ So close, sweetheart ’ in your ear. You moan, your thighs sliding open on the bed.

“Pinch me if something doesn’t feel right,” He murmurs distractedly, and you hear the shuffle of his pants on his skin. “ Hard, Y/n. You hear me?”

“ Mhm . Pinch,” You say, panting slightly. When he laughs, your panties start to stick to your skin.

“God, you want this so badly, don’t you?” The tip of his cock touches your lips, and you dart your tongue out right away, swirling it around the head. Tsukki sighs heatedly over you, and then his fingers tangle in your hair. “My own personal little whore.”

You groan, trying to take him in your mouth, but he uses his grip to hold you back.

“Say please.”

Your stomach flips hard, because you know ‘ please’ wouldn’t be enough.

“Please, Tsukki,” You whisper. “Make me your whore.”

He inhales sharply, and you decide right there that you want to hear him fall apart. When he touches your lips again and tightens his grip, you know you have no control here. So you just let your mouth fall open.

The first time he slides into your mouth, his cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He chuckles. “Thought you wanted it rough.” You recover as quickly as you can, breathing deep through your nose and sucking hard when he pulls back. He groans under his breath and thrusts his hips again, humming when you take him properly. “ That’s it, Y/n. ” He pulls you off of him for a moment, and you whine quietly. “Can you keep taking it like that?”

“Stop-” You croak, breathing heavily. “- fucking asking , Tsukishima.”

There’s silence over you, and then he yanks your head back, talking right over the yelp you let out. “If you say so.”

You get no more chances to recover, your breath sputtered and coughed around him as he sets a pace that stings. You moan loudly while he fucks your throat, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth and falling to your chest. Your fingers twitch on his thighs, and, after a few moments listening to the soft groans he lets out over you, one of your hands moves down to your thigh and slides to your core. You barely get two fingers on your clit when his voice bites out.

“ Don’t -” He snaps. “- even think about it .”

You whine around him, earning a particularly hard thrust that slams against the back of your throat. You latch onto his thighs again, digging your nails in.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?” He pants. “Not so fucking annoying. No choice but to listen.” You nod shallowly, unhinging your jaw a little more, until it hurts. He moans quietly. “Maybe you’ll listen when I tell you how pretty you look like this, baby. So fucking pretty, drooling all over my cock.”

Your whine is loud this time, and he laughs breathily. “You like that? Didn’t know you were into this, sweetheart – good to know.”

And then he pulls you right off him, your gasps echoing in his room. You cough, your chest heaving, but he doesn’t give you more time than that, his hands on your shoulders again. You’re less shocked when you’re shoved onto your back, and you’re too busy catching your breath to do much more than moan when he takes your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed.

Tsukki hooks his fingers into your panties and rips them down your thighs, laughing cruelly. “Aw, look at you. You’re a mess just from that?”

You dig your fingers into his comforter, still blindfolded. “You’re an ass- mm! ”

Tsukishima Kei’s just stuffed your own soiled panties in your mouth.

“Still talking too much,” He mutters, and you hear something hit the floor. You only realize it’s his knees when his fingers grip your thighs hard enough to bruise and his tongue flattens over your clit.

You scream, muffled, and arch your back on the mattress. Your fingers fly into his hair just as he’s dragging his tongue over your folds a second time, but he pulls away. He bites down hard on your thigh, ignoring the jolt of your body.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” Your fingers cling to the covers again, and it takes everything in you not to grab him when he spits hard on your clit. “Better.”

He eats you out like that, his face buried between your thighs as you scream and moan and nearly make your fingers go numb from how hard you fist the blankets. You have no clue how long it’s been or when it had happened, but you realize eventually that he’s slipped two fingers into you, curling and spreading them against spots you didn’t even know existed. Your body twitches when he pushes up against your g-spot, and you grind your hips up toward his mouth unconsciously.

You pay for it immediately, his mouth and fingers leaving you. You start to complain, but it’s turned into a scream when his hand comes down hard on your overly sensitive clit.

“I really do have my work cut out for me, huh?” He pants, breathless and raspy. “You’re a lot of work, sweetheart.” Your eyes prickle with tears, and you shake your head hard. He huffs out a laugh, breath cold on your heated core. “No? You’re not a lot of work?” When you shake your head again, he coos at you condescendingly. “You promise to be good?” You nod, and he laughs again. “Okay, then. Spread your legs for me.”

You peel your aching fingers off of the blankets and hook them around your thighs, spreading your legs and pressing your knees toward your chest until it starts to hurt. You hear Tsukki’s pants hit the floor, and he groans openly down at you.

“God, you look so good like this,” He mutters under his breath. “Can I take a picture?”

Your heart jumps. You’d always thought you would never be comfortable with something like that, but the thought of Tsukki having a picture of you on his phone – a picture of you looking like this – has you clenching hard around nothing. You nod firmly, unconsciously pulling your thighs open even further.

He lets out a surprised breath, and then you hear him scrambling for his pants on the floor. “ Fuck- ” He hisses, throwing things around, and you hear the thump of his phone hitting the rug under his desk. “ Fuck, fuck- ” You start to giggle, the sound muffled but still audible. “Don’t fucking laugh at me, you fucking asshole – I wasn’t expecting you to say yes-”

Your laugh is loud now, but when you hear him stumble back over to you and feel his hand on the underside of your thigh, your stomach flips and your breath cuts short. The camera shutter goes off, and goosebumps break out over your skin, a soft moan leaving you.

“You’re into this too, sweetheart?” He asks, laughing to himself. His phone hits the bed somewhere beside you. “You like when I take pictures of you?” You nod, your face flushing hard, but he slides his cock through your folds before you have time to be embarrassed. You moan, feeling the tip bump up against your clit with each shallow thrust. “Maybe one day we can film it.”

You moan wantonly, and his own moan joins yours as he sinks into you in one slow thrust. Your breath leaves your lungs as he pulls back and slams his hips into yours. “You took me all at once, baby,” He groans, anchoring himself to your hips. “You must have missed me.”

You nod desperately, and you feel his weight drop over you on the mattress. His fingers hook gently into the blindfold, despite how roughly his hips collide with yours, and he tugs the material up to your forehead. You blink rapidly, squinting when the light hits your eyes and trying to readjust while Tsukki drives his cock into you.

When you finally do gain your bearings, the first thing you find is him. Your eyes lock with his, and your own widen drastically as you take him in. His face is flushed, a sheen of sweat glinting off his skin. His eyebrows are furrowed with concentration, and his arms are flexed as he drags you down to meet him halfway with each thrust.

Your eyes roll back into your head almost immediately, the sight too much to handle while he fucks you. Your moans come out louder now, and – although you’re still muffled – you’re infinitely glad you’re not doing this at your apartment, surrounded by thin walls and neighbors. Here, you can moan as loud as you want. Here, you don’t have to care about the way his headboard slams against the wall. Here, you can arch your back and scream his name, over and over again around your panties.

He hears it the third time it comes out, the syllables of his name garbled but clearly his. His expression changes, those furrowed brows creasing even more and his lips parting as he lets out a series of quiet moans every time he hears his own name.

“ Fuck, ” He says, letting your waist go and dropping down hard over you, his hands hitting the bed on either side of you. “ Fuck , Y/n. I love you-” Your vision gets blurry, and your eyes burn, but you only notice you’re crying when the tears stream down toward your ears. “Listen to you, screaming my name like that,” He pants, his hips stuttering for a moment. The realization that he’s close to finishing sends you hurtling toward your own orgasm. “So fucking perfect. Fucking perfect for me.”

His fingers dig into the material in your mouth, and he pries it out, tossing the panties somewhere behind him. Your jaw aches, but you forget it when he meets your eyes.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.”

“Tsukki-” You cry. “ Please, Tsukki- ” Your fingers itch to touch him. “Please, I love you – Can I-” You start to cry harder, your vision gone completely as you sob, the feeling of him slamming into you too much now.

“Yes, baby, yes-” His breath hitches when you clench around him, and he nods tightly. “You can touch me-”

Your fingers fly into his hair, and you drag him down roughly, smashing your lips to his. You both moan, and you ramble deliriously against his mouth. “ Love you, I love you, I- ”

He shudders over you, groaning as he stills with his hips pressed tight to yours. He spills into you, his body shaking against yours as he fills you. The feeling of it throws you right off the edge, and you cry against his lips while you come, your back twitching and arching toward his.

He’s collapsed onto you by the time you’re done, breathing hard in your ear. “ Fuck , Y/n,” He sighs. You wrap your legs tiredly around his waist, exhaustion taking you over.

“How did we do all that with my dress still on?” You whisper weakly, too tired to even smile when he starts to laugh.

“God, I love you. You’re so fucking stupid.”

That one does make you laugh. You feed off of each other, worsening until you’re both wheezing together.

Finally, he buries his face in your neck, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart lurches. “For?”

“Everything,” he says. “ Everything, Y/n. For saying the opposite of what I meant. For not saying the things I wanted to.”

You say nothing, just wrapping your arms tight around his neck. “I’m sorry, too. For not listening to the right person. And for thinking the worst of you just because I was scared.”

He stays quiet a moment, just breathing you in. “Does that mean you aren’t breaking up with me?”

You chew on your lip, suddenly nervous. “Does that mean we’re together?”

“I don’t think any of this was ever fake for me.”

You bring his face up to yours, kissing him deeply. “I don’t think it was for me, either,” You whisper against his lips. He smiles, pulling back to look down at you.

“Can I still ask you to be my girlfriend? My real girlfriend?”

You stare up at him a moment, and then your brow furrows. “I don’t think you ever asked me to be your girlfriend at all.”

He blanches.

“Oh, fuck.”

You remind him of it for the rest of his life.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader

248 notes · View notes

waughymommy · 2 months

Text

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 5

They pulled into a McDonalds and Rebecca opened Brian’s door. He had successfully finished his second juice of the morning. She smiled as she unbuckled him. She unclipped his pacifier and stuffed it into her purse. “I will give you a break since we are out in public,” Rebecca whispered. “But remember, if you have to go potty, you tell mommy.” She grabbed his hand and led him inside. At the counter, Brian started to make his order, but Rebecca stopped him before he could get two words out. She shot him a look that let him know mommy was in charge. “Good morning. He will have a sausage biscuit and an apple juice. I’ll have a bacon, egg and cheese with a large black coffee. Thank you,” Rebecca said confidently, knowing that the cashier was giving the couple strange looks.

Rebecca grabbed their tray and they made their way to a table. Brian started to complain, “Why can’t I have a coffee?”

Without missing a beat, Rebecca answered, “Coffee isn’t for babies.” Disappointed, Brian went to grab his breakfast, but she slapped his hand, “Let mommy do that.” She opened the rapper and began cutting the sandwich into bite size pieces. She opened his juice, but reminded him to be super careful since she left his sippy cup in the car. “Now eat up sweetheart.”

Brian kept his head down, certain that every person in the restaurant was staring at him, but the truth was every went about their own business. The two ate in relative quiet. He finished his juice. “My baby must have liked his food, you finished it so fast. Mommy is almost done.” Brian cringed and his eyes scanned the restaurant, praying that no one could hear her. “Alright sweetie. Before we leave, do you need to go potty?”

Brian was mortified, “NO. Can we just go please?”

“Relax cutie,” Rebecca was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort.

They walked to the car and once again she buckled him in. She pulled his pacifier back out, “Be good for me and suck on your binky. We will be at the store in just a few minutes.”

They arrived at a department store, “Mommy wants to buy some clothes. If baby is on his best behavior, maybe you will get a treat.” As they walked inside, Brian realized that he still had is pacifier in his mouth and quickly shoved it into his pocket. Rebecca pretended to not notice, but it just reinforced that Brian was never going to let himself be little on his own. The two walked inside and found the women’s clothing section. Brian had always been a patient husband and bought whatever her heart desired. He had endured countless shopping trips, but this was different. With every step he took, he could feel the material of his pullup. He felt paranoid that everyone in the store knew his secret. He just stood behind his mommy as she perused the racks. She made sure to take her precious time.

She picked item after item to try on. Brian squirmed knowing that this was going to take awhile. Every minute felt like an eternity. He just stood outside the stall as she tried on different outfits. He was unsettled and bored all at the same time. He just wanted to get out of there. But then he noticed an ache in his bladder. No way in hell was he going to ask her to take him to the bathroom. He would just wait till they got home where he would hopefully be able to slip away and use the bathroom on his own. With every passing moment, his need for the bathroom grew more and more intense. Rebecca opened up the stall to model a new outfit, “What do you think sweetheart?” She immediately recognized the look on his face. “Brian, baby, do you need to go pee-pee. Mommy can take you. All you need to do is tell me.”

“No, Im fine,” Brian responded hoping that she believed him.

“Ok baby. I’ve got a few more things to try on,” as she walked back into the stall. Brian took a deep breath, desperately trying to will away his need to pee. He crossed his legs hoping to relieve some pressure.

“Are you almost done,” Brian asked in a whiney tone.

“Not quite sweetheart, be patient for mommy just a little bit longer,” Rebecca said from behind the stall door.

Brian tried to take his mind off of his predicament. He tried looking through the racks, but his mind kept racing back to the fact that his wife of nearly ten years was turning him into a baby. He had always fantasized about it, but it was always just that: a dream. This was real life and it terrified him. How could he give up control? He needed to be the provider so that his wife didn’t have to be. She had always been so sweet and supportive of him. The least he could do was work hard so she didn’t have to. He could still remember the day he saw her. He was absolutely smitten. He saw her in a coffee shop on his way to work. Her wavy brown hair flowed over her shoulders. Although she sported a hoodie and jeans, he could tell she was curvaceous. Something about her drew him in like a moth to a flame. Brian was never one to openly flirt with women. He was always a bit shy and reserved. But with her, he had to try. He plucked up his courage and walked up to her table, “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Brian and I couldn’t help but notice you. I don’t normally do this, but would you grab coffee with sometime.”

Rebecca looked up at the dapper man standing before her. She flashed him a smile. She could sense the shyness of him which conveyed a genuineness about him. He was tall and fairly fit. Why not, he seems harmless.

“I would love to. How about tomorrow at noon?”, she asked. He was thrilled, over the moon happy. That moment of bliss Brian daydreamed about was soon shattered by a sound that jerked him back. It sounded as if someone was peeing. He was confused, until the warmth spread across his crotch. The daydream had broken his concentration and he was flooding his pullup.

“Ok, I am all done baby boy…Brian are you ok?” Rebecca asked as she exited the stall. She saw the look of total panic on his face and a growing wet patch on his pants. His pullup couldn’t handle it and pee dribbled down his legs. Brian burst into tears. In that moment all he wanted was mommy. Rebecca flung into mommy mode. She set aside her clothing and went to comfort her baby boy. “Why didn’t you tell mommy you needed to pee-pee? I guess you aren’t ready for pull ups? Where is your paci baby?” she asked.

Brian could only point to his pocket. She reached into his pocket and then nestled it between his lips. “Come on baby, lets get you home.” Rebecca grabbed his hand and led him out into the parking lot. Every patron in the store just witnessed a grown man with a pacifier and wet pants, be led like an overgrown toddler out of the store. But Brian was too upset to notice. They reached the car. “Brian before you get in, we need to take those pants off,” Rebecca said.

Brian fearfully scanned the parking lot to see if other people were watching, “But but people might see me.”

“Brian I can’t put you in the car with soaking wet pants,” she said forcefully. She unbuttoned his pants and starting pulling his pants down to his ankles. “I need you to step out baby. Mommy packed another pullup, but she didn’t bring any pants.” She ripped open the sides of the pullup, leaving his bare bottom exposed. He closed his eyes and just prayed no one could see him. He felt the cold touch of baby wipes around his crotch. “Ok baby step into this pullup. There, nice and dry. Hop in the car for me sweetheart.” She leaned in and buckled him up. She then kissed the top of his head, “Everything is ok sweetheart. You were so brave while mommy changed you. I promise, mommy will never get upset at you for having accidents. Lets get you home.”

202 notes · View notes

msbigredmachine · 8 months

Text

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

-----

Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

--------------

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

TAGGING: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @gomussy @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya @mzv11 @kia1996 @randomuser0711 @theesexystallion @yourtribalqueen

#roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #the bloodline #smackdown #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x oc #wrestlemania

554 notes · View notes