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Something amazing will happen to you in May 2019.

Take me to the aquarium and I’ll literally do whatever u want after

All In

the beta fic you have been waiting months for <33 Ushijima Wakatoshi, Semi Eita & Tendou Satori x female reader w.c 6.8k tw: yandere themes, a/b/o, noncon, (sorta) smut, nsfw, one mention of blood and oozing wounds, implied stalking, forced claiming

“They’re good guys – good alphas. This won’t be like last time, I promise. You’ll see what I mean when you meet them,” Ayako murmurs, squeezing your hand in reassurance and offering you a brilliant grin. “They’re gonna love you.”

Love seems a bit of a stretch.

But Aya looks so… hopeful. You sigh. “You really like them, huh?”

“I really like them,” she admits, a pretty pink blush tingeing her cheeks. “You come first, though. You’re my beta, and if it doesn’t feel right, we’ll walk, okay? No questions asked.” 

A promise she’s kept more than once. Too many times. Omegas like Aya, young and vibrant and oh-so-lovely, shouldn’t have any trouble finding a pack to settle down with. Hell, alphas should be banging down the door just for a chance with her – to fuck, to bond, anything and everything in between. You’re the sticking point. The reason why Ayako hasn’t bonded into a pack yet.

Alphas have no interest in betas. They do nothing for them – can’t take a knot, don’t have heats. Betas aren’t durable enough to ride out an alpha’s rut. All that compounded by the simple fact that bonding bites between the two don’t last longer than a few months, so why bother?

You’re dead weight. Aya clings to you anyway. 

She pulls your hand to her cheek, the tender, delicate spot right beneath the curve of her jaw. Scenting, you realise a touch belatedly. Omegas have stronger scents than betas do; florals, spice, indulgent, enticing things – you once knew an omega whose scent reminded you of hot caramel drizzled over apple pie. Ayako smells like lilacs and the rain, a softer scent admittedly, yet one that screams of home and comfort and familiar things. 

Your own scent is milder. Now, on top of sea salt and that faint whisper of summer, you’ll smell a little of her. She’s claiming you as pack, as hers. Her beta, exactly as she’d said

A flutter of warmth blooms in your chest, and you smile back at her, the first genuine one of the night. 

“You look great, by the way,” she tells you. “Come on, Tendou messaged to say they’re running a bit late and we should head on in without them. Ushijima’s practice doesn’t finish up ‘til about seven, so we’ve got plenty of time for the show.” She winks and lets out a bubbling laugh and you kind of feel like you’ve missed the joke.

Nevertheless, you let her tug you into the stadium. The lady behind the ticketing counter slides across two visitor’s passes on lanyards when Ayako gives your names.

“Practices are closed to the public,” the omega explains in a hushed voice while the two of you make your way towards the door for the stands. “Apparently the team get a few passes they can hand out to whoever they like – pack, usually.”

The pass has your name printed on it. Beneath it, in bold; Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

You finger the plastic edges absentmindedly. 

There’s other people in the stands, all wearing the same style lanyard draped around your neck. Some, you think, are partners. Friends and family. Pack, like Ayako said. You spy a woman maybe a few years older than you, bouncing a toddler on her lap and pointing animatedly towards the court, another guy sitting beside her, an arm curled over the back of her seat. Others appear to be there in a more official capacity – staff, you suppose, wearing the same white polo edged in blue and gold (team colours, you guess), talking quietly amongst themselves and jotting things down on expensive looking tablets. 

They pay you no mind. Ayako does the same, dragging you right up to the guard-rail with an excited gasp. You’d been expecting them to be running laps or tossing balls in pairs or something. You weren’t expecting anything like this. 

Without the roar of a crowd, every noise on the court is amplified; the squeaking of shoes, the thwack of palms meeting leather, shouts ricocheting from both sides as they scramble for the ball.

Scramble isn’t the right word, though. It flies through the air between the players, choreographed chaos.

One of the players, a dark haired behemoth, shoots up and connects with the ball, slamming it over the net with a terrifying force – you feel the impact in your chest when it hits the floor.

A whistle rings out.

“Oh my god,” Aya breathes.

The behemoth turns, dark eyes zeroing in on your figure from across the court. His nostrils flare.

Alpha, you realise. He’s one of Aya’s alphas.

Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

“You know he’s one of the top wing spikers in the country, and he’s on the national team? He’s already got like three Olympic medals! Three!” she gushes. “He’s incredible.”

You hardly hear her. The other players on the court, his teammates, are already re-setting, a blond slapping Ushijima on the back, another hurling a teasing jab across the net – earning him a middle finger in response – Ushijima’s gaze doesn’t shift, his attention doesn’t waver. You swear you see his pupils dilate. 

Your breath is caught somewhere in your chest. 

“Are you gonna wave at the alpha you dressed so pretty for?” 

“Would you stop?” you hiss, tearing your gaze away to jab an elbow into Ayako’s side, which she artfully dodges with a delighted giggle. 

“Can’t say I blame you for drooling. I practically melted into a puddle the first time Semi dragged him into the bakery. He’s hot as hell,” she sighs. 

The problem is, she isn't wrong. Weird, heavy, way too intense eye contact aside, Ushijima is the textbook definition of ‘hot alpha’; all tall and broad shouldered, his face hewn with clean, strong lines. Add on the ridiculous athleticism, the muscles that clearly aren’t just for show – yeah, no wonder Aya’s got heart eyes already. 

On the court below, the whistle blows. More cheers. Another point scored. By the time you glance down again, Ushijima’s lost interest, his focus returned to the game, nodding at something one of the (you presume) coaches yells across the court.

The tight, prickling feeling writhing beneath your skin, that doesn’t fade as quick. 

God, you’re way too worked up about this whole thing. 

“He’s very, uh…” 

“Intimidating? No– impressive? Or were you gonna say sexy? All true, by the way. Ushiwaka’s a beast.”

The other two alphas have finally deigned to grace you with their presence. Wonderful. 

Swallowing back a wince, you turn to face the duo. “Good,” you say. “I was going to say he’s very… good.”

Aya had told you the basics, of course; Semi’s the lead singer slash guitarist in a band, Tendou’s a chocolatier. The former used to be a civil servant, the latter recently moved back from a stint in Paris, and both of them played Volleyball with Ushijima in high school. 

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting. Carbon cutouts of their packmate, maybe, big, brawny, radiating the kind of imposing dominance that forces everyone around them – other alphas included – to sit down and shut up with a look alone. 

The two alphas before you aren’t that. 

The shorter of the two, more wiry in his build than the redhead beside him, smirks. “Good, huh?” 

He’s teasing you. They’re both teasing you. Your cheeks burn hotter. Before you can open your mouth to apologise, try and sidestep you shoving your own foot in your mouth as a first impression, Aya intervenes. 

“You should’ve seen her a minute ago, her jaw was on the ground. She’s playing it cool.”

The sound of her laugh digs at you in a way it shouldn’t. 

It’s not fair, not when you’re the one who’s acting like you don’t have a single working brain cell and she’s trying to cover for you, but it bothers you when Ayako acts like she has to smoothe over your edges, make you more palatable, more pleasing. You’re not an omega, you won’t ever be an omega, and sometimes you can’t help but wonder if Aya’s gonna spend the rest of your lives trying to compensate for that.

Her shoulder knocks with yours, a gentle bump, that same hopeful, painfully optimistic look in her eyes. 

Guilt, an old, familiar friend at this point, washes over you. 

“This is Semi,” she introduces, gesturing at the ash-blond with the ripped jeans, “and Tendou,” the gangly redhead. 

“And you must be our beta,” Semi surmises, slowly eyeing you over. 

The casual possessiveness rankles you, your tight smile freezing in place. Again Ayako simply laughs, her fingers, very deliberately, lacing with yours once more. “She’s my beta, you have yet to win her over.”

Neither alpha appears all that put out by the prospect.

Tendou, eyes crinkling with a wide, eager grin that takes you a little aback, thrusts a hand out towards you, a white gift bag you hadn’t noticed dangling from his fingertips. “Presents help with the whole wooing thing, right?” he jokes.

From your experience, yes. 

Aya’s received plenty. You, as her tag along beta, less so. 

One pack brought you a bouquet of pink and white peonies on your first date. Not quite as  extravagant as the arrangement of roses they presented Aya with, they had a lovely, subtle perfume and when you put them in a vase and set them atop your nightstand, they brightened up the whole room. You could appreciate that they’d at least tried to make you feel an equal part of this. 

They’d been willing to play pretend.

Back then, when Aya first started bringing potential packs around, you were… idealistic. Naive, maybe. 

You watched them dote on her. Lap up Aya’s attention like it was the sweetest fix. You saw the hunger. The arousal that flared, thick and syrupy, whenever she did something unintentionally appealing to the alpha inside of them – a simple stretch, nibbling on her bottom lip while she mulled over a menu, the sway of her hips as she walked up to the bar.

Oh, they were polite to you. Drew you into conversations, chatted about your job, your hobbies, the plans the two of you had for the holidays in a few weeks’ time – all the while tracking every movement of the omega beside you from the corner of their eyes.

They were nice to you. You didn’t want ‘nice’. You wanted what they so freely offered to Aya; hunger and captivated attention, a desire so thick in the air you could choke on it. 

Foolish, pretty fantasies. There’s no competing with biology, you know that. The most interesting, beautiful beta in the room is still just a beta. 

Down below, the court’s quieter, muted chatter drifting up to the bleachers in place of squeaking and thuds and the sharp trill of whistles blowing. Did the practice match finish up?

Aya squeezes your hand. Drops it. As subtle a cue as she can manage. 

Brain kicking back into gear, you step closer and pluck the gift from the alpha’s outstretched hand, an odd little shiver trickling down your spine when the tips of your fingers graze his rough palm. 

“Ah, thank you,” you say, remembering your manners at last.

Tendou’s eyes flutter shut, breathing in deep, shuddering a little on the exhale. When they open again, there’s a giddy sort of satisfaction creeping from his expression. He licks his lips, smiling wide. “Sea salt.”

“… Sorry?”

“The chocolates,” his chin juts towards the gift. “Sea salt caramel. I had a feeling, went with it. I’m not usually wrong.” He sounds absurdly proud of the fact. 

“Oh.” 

Beside you, Aya looks as lost as you feel. Semi, on the other hand, snorts, shaking his head. “You might wanna ease up on the beta, dude. She met you all of three minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but we’re gonna be besties. I can feel it.” Without warning he slings an arm over your shoulders, dragging you close to smush you into his side, unbothered by your startled yelp, the way the bag of chocolates smacks against his torso when the hand clutching it jerks out to steady yourself. “Don’t be jealous ‘cuz I’m already the favourite, Semi-Semi.”

Semi shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, leaning back against the centre railing behind him. Slowly, a smirk unfurls. A challenge. “For now.”

Plastered against Tendou’s side, swallowed up by the heat of him, the heady scent of cherrywood – of alpha – thick and strong, and with no sign of him letting you go anytime soon, you dart a glance to Aya.

Your best, oldest (admittedly only) friend, watching the three of you with a quirked eyebrow, expression otherwise indecipherable–

And then, she giggles, rolling her eyes with exasperated amusement. “Can we at least sit while you two fight over my well-earned spot?” 

You wonder if they notice the brief look of concern she throws your way as Tendou relaxes his hold and the two usher you over to a seat, Semi snagging the one to your left, Aya taking the right.

Her promise from earlier rings in your head. One word and she’ll walk, no questions asked. 

Aya needs a pack. She wants this one. She likes this one, but at some point, she’ll need one. 

Omegas don’t do well long term without mates. Right now her heats are okay, manageable with suppressants and toys – eventually those won’t be enough. They’ll get worse, come without warning, more frequently. The suppressants won’t help, she’ll ache and burn up, forgo food, water, sleep…

The lucky ones end up hospitalised. The unlucky ones either end up dead or in situations where it’d be a kindness if they were. 

“You okay?” she asks, whisper soft. Her voice won’t carry, the other two aren’t paying attention anyway. Semi’s thigh brushes up against yours when he spreads his legs wide, thumbing out a message on his phone, and Tendou’s leaning over the backrest between you, chin perched on his folded forearms, watching him type. 

One word and she’ll walk, that’s what Aya promised. 

Down on the court below, the players spread across the floor, stretching out and cooling down, half empty water bottles and sweat towels scattered around them. Ushjima’s lying on your side of the court, one thigh drawn over the other, twisting out his lower back. If he realises he’s got an audience in you and Aya, he gives no indication of caring, holding the stretch for a few seconds longer before repeating the motion with the other leg. 

“Yeah.”

If chocolates and overly tactile besties are what you get out of this, you can manage that. 

—

While you wait out front of the stadium for Ushijima to finish up, Semi smokes.

A lit cigarette dangles loosely between two fingers, the tip glowing cherry red with every drag. He stands separate from the three of you, a few feet away, because when he’d fished out the slightly crumpled packet from his jacket pocket to pluck one out, Aya’s nose wrinkled. Omegas are sensitive to strong smells at the best of times, and Aya’s loathed the stench of cigarettes ever since she was a kid and her dad would smoke on the back porch of her gran’s place. He died years ago, and to this day she swears up and down that every time she sets foot back there, she smells those Seven Stars.

To her credit, she hadn’t actually said anything, and to Semi’s, he hadn’t kicked up a fuss. He’d shrugged, shuffled on back and lit up anyway. Water off a duck’s back.

Tendou talks loudly and Aya’s giggling laugh echoes louder. Semi watches. Idle – bored, almost. 

Until his gaze shifts to you.

And stays there.

From a young age, you’re taught that alphas are stronger than betas and omegas. They’re quicker. Smarter. In the old days, they tell you, alphas were the hunters, the providers – protectors, when the situation called for it. What they mean, dressing the truth up in nicer, more palatable terms is that alphas are, down to their marrow, predators. 

Those instincts don’t go away just because society’s a little more civilised these days. 

Semi’s expression doesn’t change. There’s nothing particularly dangerous or threatening there, nothing to explain the sudden ball of anxiety that lodges itself in your stomach. 

Yet you can’t shake the sense that with that stare, every ounce of his focus rests solely on you. Every breath, every nervous twitch, shift of your muscles, all of it tracked, analysed. He stares, breathing out a slow plume of smoke, and you feel the physical weight of it bearing down on you.

He won’t bite, lunge for the kill – but he could.

His chin tilts, eyebrow lifting. A flicker of amusement, as if he knows exactly the thoughts running wild in your head. You shake them off, ignore the hammering of your heart to follow the wordless, beckoning call to his side, nudging Aya on the way past so she won’t think you’ve abandoned her. 

“You realise she’s gonna try and get you to quit,” you tell him in what you hope is a friendly, upbeat tone. 

Semi scoffs and takes another drag of his cigarette. You watch, off-kilter, a little dazed as his head tilts back, exposing the long, lithe column of his throat, and he slowly exhales.

With dark, sweeping lashes and angular features, the problem, you realise, is that Semi is distractingly pretty. An artless, grunged up sort of pretty. Pretty like pools of oil on asphalt after it rains. 

Pretty in the way that poisonous things often are. 

“She’s more than welcome to try.” He plucks his cig from his lips and extends it your way, his expression almost… goading. 

You don’t take it.

There isn’t much surprise to be found in your refusal, his pretty mouth pursing as his arm falls by the wayside. “Omega’s got her claws stuck in you good, huh.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it. What all this boils down to. Right from the start, the very first pack you met and every pack since – Aya’s made it clear from the get-go. They don’t get her without you. You’re her beta. 

“Is that a problem for you?”

You won’t take the cigarette because Aya has issues with it. She won’t entertain you leaving her because the two of you are too fucking entangled in one another to handle extrication.

You’re pack, you’re family, you’re all each other has left, now that her grandma – the woman who essentially raised you and her – is gone. 

You won’t play second fiddle, if only because Aya won’t allow them to push you aside like that. If that’s a problem, a dealbreaker (and, historically speaking, it has been) better they figure it out now, before she – or you – gets too attached and ends up hurt. 

Semi regards you for a long moment, taking one last puff of his cigarette before he flicks it away, grinds the smoldering butt into the cement with the toe of his boot. “Don’t know yet. Guess we’ll find out.”

And you nod, because at least that’s an honest answer. 

“Tendou came back to Japan for her, didn’t he?” It’d twigged when you’d gone to hand back your visitor’s pass and the lady behind the counter made some casual comment about not expecting to see him ‘til next season.

Not back for a visit, back permanently.

Semi shakes his head, “He was always coming back. Paris was only ever a temporary thing,” he corrects. “But yeah, he made the decision to come home early when we realised the opportunity that’d fallen into our laps.”

While you don’t love the way he makes meeting Aya sound, you understand the gravity of what he’s saying. Tendou uprooted his life for her. 

You glance back over your shoulder, fiddling with the handles of the bag of chocolates he’d made for you. They’re still talking, quieter now, both of them subtly – subconsciously, probably – angled towards the two of you; Aya with that same bright-eyed look about her, Tendou like he’s just itching to interrupt and steal your attention back for himself. He, at least, might actually like you. 

“And you? Are you all in, too?”

The words slip out before you can stop them. Semi doesn’t owe you an answer, you know that. It’s not fair that you asked, it’s just– you can’t get a read on him. For all his sharp edges and the smirks that make your insides squirm, you don’t know whether this is what he wants. Wanted, maybe.

Semi surprises you. In a move too quick for you to catch, he closes in on you. He doesn’t pin you down per se. You’re not caged in, trapped between his body and a wall. Physically speaking, there’s nothing stopping you from stepping back and regaining that inch of space as he looms over your shorter frame, tilting your chin upwards with two curled fingers like he’s going to kiss you. 

Nothing except your suddenly jelly legs. 

There’s barely anything separating you. Millimetres. Heat floods your face. Your stomach tightens, blood simmering, writhing beneath your skin. Long fingers encircle your wrist, right where Aya had scented you, his thumb digging in over your fluttering pulse. A noise escapes you then, a distressed sort of whimper you thought yourself above, and Semi’s eyes flick down to your lips, something dark and hungry flaring in response. 

Alpha. Smaller than his packmates, but no less. 

“Who d’you think called him and told him to get his ass back home, little beta?” 

You swallow unsteadily–

“Time to share, Semi-Semi,” Tendou sings, snaking an arm around your waist to haul you away from the blond. To you, he says, “You wanna come say hi to our big, bad pack alpha, don’tcha?” 

It’s then you realise that Ushijima, along with several of his teammates, have finally emerged. While they wave each other off, scattering across the carpark, some heading to their cars, others in the direction of buses and the train station, Ushijima halts near the door – Aya already skipping on over. 

“Ah… yes?”

Tendou snickers. 

“Relax,” Semi tells you with a smirk, clapping your shoulder as he brushes on past. “Ushiwaka doesn’t bite.” 

As Tendou nudges you forward like an errant duckling, you fix Semi with an unimpressed look. He winks. Asshole.

Omegas, especially unbonded omegas, tend to be picky about touch and physical affection outside of pack and family. Aya, for all her moon-eyed infatuation, doesn’t throw herself at the alpha. Ushijima offers a single, wooden pat on her head, the edges of his mouth lifting in what you suppose is an approximation of a smile.

She beams all the same.

“– and this is my beta,” she introduces. 

You’re not anticipating an overly warm welcome. For one, he looks stiff enough smiling at Aya to suspect he’s not practised with the expression, for another… the whole, weird staring thing from earlier sits all too fresh in your mind. If he’d heard your awkward fumbling with his packmates in the aftermath, you doubt that’s helped endear you to him any.

Nothing prepares you for the way he turns, every speck of goodwill falling from his features when your scent finally reaches him. Cold, remote stone, eyeing you down. 

“You smell like lilacs,” he grunts, like the very concept offends him. You, a beta, wearing his would-be mate’s scent. 

—

The izakaya the alphas take you to is only a few minutes walk from the stadium, and each one of them passes in near unbearable, stilted tension. 

Aya doesn’t question you when you make a bee-line for the bathroom rather than following the others to a table, though the small furrow between her brows says plenty.

You just need a minute.

The single unisex stall offers spartan amenities at best – a sink with a cracked mirror hammered into the wall, paper towels, and a lone, flickering light above. 

Braced over the porcelain vanity, eyes closed, shaking like a leaf with remnants of ice-cold water dripping down your face, you will the frantic, sickening churn inside you to ease. 

Fuck. 

What’s wrong with you?

Ushijima could barely stand that Aya had scented you, and you’re supposed to believe he’d let you bond into the pack with her? And if he did, what kind of life would that be? You, forever on the outside, pack but not really, not in the ways that matter. 

What place does a beta have between alphas and their omega?

More to the point, how, after all the packs you and Aya have tried this with, all the the indifference and dismissal you’ve weathered, the cruel insults you weren’t supposed to hear–

Think of it this way, dude; it’s a spare hole for you to stick your cock in while the omega’s busy bouncing on my knot.

–how are you still surprised that they don’t want you?

You let a slow breath out, shoulders sagging. Okay. 

Okay. 

Straightening up, you rip a sheet of paper towel from the dispenser, dabbing to remove any trace of distress from your face. You can do this, you tell yourself. Smile, play pretend. A few drinks, some dumplings, yakitori – two, three hours max.

Nothing’s changed.

The alphas want Ayako. Ayako wants these alphas.

In spite of that, in spite of the blushing and fawning and big, lovely doe eyes that bat ever so prettily for her alphas, she’ll hold true to her promise if you ask it of her. 

No questions asked, without an ounce of resentment, she’d walk away from them. She’d choose you. 

It’d be a few weeks of moping around, picking each other up and dusting yourselves off. There’ll be other packs. Aya’s got a few years yet before her heats really become an issue. You can always try again.

The thing is… you don’t want to anymore.

They like you as a friend. You’re in the way. They wanna fuck you, but only if the omega’s otherwise occupied. You can take care of the household stuff during heats and ruts, right? Maybe one day there could be something more. 

They wouldn’t look twice if it wasn’t for Ayako. 

Every time it hurts, like clawing out pieces of yourself, and you just… you can’t anymore. You won’t.

So tonight, you’ll be the bestie. Let her have her fun, flirt with the big, strong alphas she’s so enamoured by, and then tomorrow… tomorrow you’ll find a way to cut yourself loose from all of this. Aya gets her pack and you can find a nice, normal beta to settle down with. You’ll both be happier for it in the long run. 

Wiping a smudge of mascara from under your eye, you suck in another fortifying breath, nodding at yourself in the mirror. A few hours of pretending is nothing. A piece of cake.

Focused entirely on the veneer you have to slip into, you don’t notice the large, muscular frame blocking the door until you quite literally collide with it.

“Oof– Sorry, my b–”

The words wither like ash on your tongue when you look up to find Ushijima standing over you.

Despite the resolution you’d come to mere moments ago, you’re not feeling particularly charitable towards the hulking behemoth of an alpha, and you have every intention of wordlessly skirting around him to head back to the table and join your friend, civility be damned. 

You make it all of a single step before a change sweeps over him and he stiffens, nostrils flaring like they had back on the court. His eyes bleed black, and that’s the only warning you get before he seizes your wrist in one giant hand and starts to haul you back into the stall, slamming the door shut behind you both. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you hiss. 

“She scented you,” he growls, looking angrier than he did before. “You smell like omega.”

No, this isn’t anger. Not exactly. Ushijima’s shoulders heave with every breath, his whole frame almost shuddering, pulled taut like a bowstring primed to snap–

And that’s when realisation hits. 

“You’re in a rut,” you whisper, eyes going wide in horror. “Ushiji–” You don’t get to finish the sentence. 

Big should mean slow. Clumsy. Ushijima’s neither. 

In an instant he surges into motion, one hand clamping down over your mouth, the other shoving you forward, trapping you on the tips of your toes between his hulking body and the vanity that was your lifeline five minutes ago. Just like then, your hands automatically reach out, clutching the edge of the sink to steady yourself. Stupid, when the full weight of Ushijima pins you precariously in place anyway.

Your heart hammers, panic and terror clawing at your stomach. You aren’t an omega, you can’t take a knot. If Ushijima tries to fuck you like he wants – like his instincts are driving him to – he’ll tear you apart. He’ll break you. 

But if any part of the mindless, snarling alpha behind you recognises that, he doesn’t care. The warm body in his grasp smells like lilacs, like the omega outside, and that’s good enough.

He noses at your hair and pants, yanking your skirt up to rip at your underwear. The fabric gives easily.

While he rips and claws at his own clothes to free his cock, Ushijima stares at your reflection, watching you shake as the tears well up and spill over. There’s nothing human there, nothing cognizant. The black pits staring back at you are pure alpha, consumed by the need to fuck and breed. 

You have seconds – seconds – to brace yourself.

Ushijima drags the head of his cock along your slit just once, bends you over, and without warning or preamble, splits you in two. 

Omegas have slick to help with sudden ruts. You don’t. 

It doesn’t matter that you’re not prepared to take him, that it hurts worse than anything you’ve experienced before and you’re choking on tears and muffled wails. You scream into his hand and Ushijima grunts, bullying his cock into you one agonising millimetre at a time. 

He fucks into you like you’re made to take his cock, every thrust slamming you into the unforgiving edge of the sink while your legs scramble for purchase. You’re fairly sure you’re close to passing out when you feel the swell of his knot start to catch. 

Oblivious to your panic, the wheezing cries and pleas dashed against his palm, the alpha snarls in open-mouthed pleasure, his spare hand coming down to cover one of your own, braced against the sink. “Mine.”

With the added weight, the vanity unit rattles against the wall, and you pray that someone’s walking by and hears it, cares enough to come investigate.

You aren’t that lucky, though.

Ushijima hauls you back upright, and as his knot swells, thick and pulsing, stretching you to breaking point and spurts of hot cum coat your insides, you cling on to consciousness just long enough to watch him tilt your chin to the side, lap at a bead of sweat trailing down your neck, and bury his teeth in your skin. 

—

Three days after your release from hospital, you wake to Aya knocking at your bedroom.

“S’posed to be at the bakery,” you mumble, curling tighter into the warm cocoon of your sheets. Soft morning light spills into your room. You can’t be bothered reaching for your phone to see the time, however your internal clock tells you that whatever the time is, it’s too early.

Aya sighs, taking that as an invitation to slip inside and plant herself on the edge of the mattress beside you. “Soon. I swapped shifts so I could start a bit later. I didn’t want…” she seems to struggle to find the right words, her shoulders rising and falling in a helpless shrug. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.”

That isn’t the problem. 

“You remember the day your mom left?” The stark flinch beneath the covers must serve as answer enough. “You wouldn’t stop crying. Gran was so worried you’d make yourself sick, kept bringing you tea, bottles of water, anything to keep you hydrated.” 

An omega like her granddaughter, the last of her alphas having passed away a few years before, she’d paced fretfully outside Aya’s bedroom door for hours while you’d sobbed into your best friend’s arms, an absolute wreck. 

A bittersweet feeling floods your heart at the memory. No one ever loved you like gran did. 

Aya continues, “I made a decision that day. I wasn’t going to leave. I wasn’t going to run off with a bunch of alphas to live out some fairytale happily ever after and leave you behind. You can blame me for what happened. I get it. If I hadn’t scented you, he–” she breaks off with a sharp inhale.

He wouldn’t have tipped into a rut.

Wouldn’t have fucked you.

Knotted you.

Bit you. 

“You can blame me for it,” she repeats, though her voice shakes and her eyes shine with tears she won’t let fall. “Hate me for it if you have to, so long as you know I’m not going anywhere. You’re still my beta, my best friend. All I wanted was to keep us together.”

Aya waits for you to say something. To forgive or condemn, and you try– you genuinely do, because blaming her isn’t fair, and you could no sooner hate her than you could carve out a lung. 

Only… you open your mouth and there’s nothing. 

The way her expression collapses before she has a chance to plaster over it hits you like a punch to the stomach. 

“Alright, lovely girl. I’ll see you when I get back – four-ish probably, unless we get hit with a late rush. I’ll try and steal some of those mini strawberry cakes to bring home too, I know how much you like them,” she rambles, patting your blanket covered knee and rising to her feet. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Aya–”

Already halfway to the door, she turns, perfect brow arched, “Hm?” Like she’s expecting you to ask for another blanket. Some tea. Nothing wrong, nothing amiss. 

“Love you, too.”

And it’s like the sun coming out from the clouds. Aya beams a watery smile, and quietly closes the door behind her. 

Sleep drags you back under before you hear the front door click. The doctors warned you about that; one of the many charming side effects you’d be subjected to over the next few weeks.

Bond sickness, they called it. An alpha’s bite formed a mating bond, and that bond doesn’t respond well when it’s neglected, say by putting several miles of distance between you and the alpha who marked you. For omegas it can be deadly if it goes on long enough. Alphas have a sense of it, but it doesn’t affect them in the same way. They don’t get sick. For you, it means a month or so of lethargy, aches, low grade fevers and chills, nausea, a veritable shopping list of symptoms that’ll ease and fade as the bond itself does. 

None of that had stopped one of the nurse’s at the hospital from suggesting that, despite the delicate nature of the situation, it might be beneficial for your health if you moved in with Ushijima and his pack until it did fade. 

It was Aya who’d jumped down her throat for that one. 

You were still in shock. Numb–

Except for the foreign, slow simmering anger lodged like a thorn between your ribs. A small piece of you that wasn’t you at all. 

—

Sometime around midmorning, you stir again.

There’s footsteps in the living room, pattering through towards your bedroom. Dancing on the edge of awake, your brain slow and sluggish, jumps to the most logical conclusion. 

“Aya?” 

You expect your door to open, that familiar bloom of lilacs to spill into your room along with your best friend, a bowl of noodle soup from the shop on the corner in tow, the strawberry cakes she promised earlier, extra pillows, coffee, her laptop with your favourite movie already queued up; comfort things she knows will help.

The door does swing open, and neither one of the tall, looming frames behind it belong to Aya. 

“Sorry to disappoint, little beta,” Semi drawls, crossing the threshold like he has every right to be there. “Your girlfriend’s busy, you’re gonna have to play with us instead.”

The blood in your veins runs cold. 

Drawing your legs up tight to put as much distance between you and the advancing alpha as you can, your eyes dart between the two, Tendou lingering in the doorway, fingers drumming against the jamb. 

“I didn’t report him. I’m not going to,” you tell them, clutching at the blankets around you so your hands won’t shake. “I know how it’ll go, I’m not i-interested in–”

Semi reaches your bed. That look he’d had in his eyes back at the stadium, dark, focused, predatory – it’s there again, sharp and gleaming. He’s smirking. 

“There’s no– you don’t need to threaten me, or-or try to scare me–” His knee hits the mattress and your voice jumps to a squeak as he climbs on up.

You squirm back against the headboard. Semi prowls closer. 

There’s nowhere for you to go. 

Tendou’s not so subtly placed himself between you and the exit, and even if you could launch yourself out of bed without Semi catching you – without your head spinning and stomach threatening to upheave – they’re alphas. You couldn’t outrun them on a good day, you sure as hell can’t fight them.  

“Please. You can go. I-I won’t say anything.”

“Fuck, that’s cute,” Tendou shivers, the deep red of his iris nearly swallowed by black. His fingers aren’t idly drumming anymore, they’re digging into the wood, splintering it beneath his grip. 

Inches away from you, Semi suddenly freezes, his attention snapping downwards to focus on something near his right hand. His nose wrinkles, lip curling. “You wanna know what I liked best about the omega?” he asks, lifting his gaze back to you. “I don’t think you really believed me back at the stadium.”

You shake your head. You don’t want to know. If they aren’t here to scare you into keeping your mouth shut about Ushijima, then–

A low, husky chuckle comes from the doorway. 

“When she’d show up smelling like the sea in summer.” 

He strikes hard and fast – seizing your ankle to yank you under him. His mouth finds the soft curve where your neck meets your shoulder and he bites down. Hard. 

Agony washes you over you, chased by fire. 

Panting wildly, your body locks up, arcing against him; against the warmth that crowds you, the hard muscles that cage you, the face now tucked into the crook of your neck, licking at the bloody, oozing wound. 

He’s there inside of you, too. Buried beneath your skin, brimming with smug satisfaction. 

“Bite her and we’ll take her home to the nest. I’m not fucking her here,” he calls over his shoulder, keeping his eyes fixed on you. He pats your hair, strokes your cheek. “Little beta needs her mates, don’t you?”

“Course she does!”

You’re gasping for air that won’t come, trembling, heart beating so frantically inside your chest you worry it’ll give out.

Tendou, bounding over with puppy-like eagerness, jumps on the bed and shoves his fellow alpha out of the way. 

“A…ya,” you rasp, weakly pushing at the large body crawling atop yours. You’re not sure whether it’s a question or a plea, but you get the sense that it doesn’t actually matter either way. 

Semi rolls his eyes – you can feel the flicker of his irritation – while Tendou, pawing at your sleep tee, pushing it up and shoving his face into the soft skin revealed there only groans, huffing at your scent like he can’t get enough. 

“Pretty omega like her? She’ll have her own alphas to worry about,” Semi dismisses, a faint frown marring his pretty face as he zeros in on the bandage over your neck. 

A split second too late, you realise his intentions. 

“No, don’t–”

He rips off the gauze.

Ushijima’s bite is puffy and inflamed. Calloused fingertips drift over the edges of the wound, Semi’s eyes boring into you as you let out a low, anxious whine. As Tendou licks and nips at your chest, working his way upwards, the blond increases the pressure, digging in.

You choke on a cry, pleasure, rather than pain, flooding and overwhelming your senses, and deep in your core, the answering surge of rabid need rips through you so viciously it punches the air from your lungs–

“We don’t fucking share.”

–and you scream as Tendou’s teeth sink into the curve of your breast, claiming you one final time.

this is the money dog, repost in the next 24 hours and money will come your way!!

I ALWAYS COME BACK

= JJK AND HOW HARD THEY FUCK YOU!

tags: smut. breeding kink, creampie, age gap, voyeurism, dacryphilia, dumbification, objectification, semi-public sex, praise kink, degradation kink, angry sex, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex…

“Work-out Buddies ”𓆪

⚠︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ, ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴀᴛ⚠︎

—𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬 ! * nsfw. Smut, drabble/scenario

—𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑺 ! *size kink/difference, baby trapping, creampie, struggling, dacryphilia, overstimulation, slight choking, cunnilingus, suggestive thoughts, dub-con, pinning, overprotective, slight blood, reader implied small, virgin reader, scratching, marking, slight age gape(26-31), unprotected sex, fingering, pretty sure i missed one, bad smut

𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒊’𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 !* Credit to @smuthospital since they have a problem of me forgetting(and i don't wanna start drama at all)

--

💌Yandere! Male work out buddy who absolutely loves your body. Rather you'd be insecure about it, he still loves your body. He glares at any men that dares to spare a glance at you while you exercise since you have short shorts that keep riding up your thighs.

🎀Yandere! Male work out buddy who gets boners every time you greet him. You're just so shorter than him he has to constantly look down when you get his attention.

💌Yandere! Male work out buddy wishes you aren't seeing lovers when you leave the gym. He wants you all for himself, to protect you from the world.

🎀Yandere! Male work out buddy who daydreams about you on his cock 24/7. Just to see you struggle to take his big girthy, long cock into your sopping cunt.

💌Yandere! Male work out buddy gets off to you when you wear those short shorts again. You can barely maintain eye contact when you talk to him. He could see the visible sweat running down your forehead. He also loves that about you.

~~~Quick drabble

You were currently a little late to the meeting you had with your work out buddy. You stumbled through the automatic doors of the gymnasium and ran to the occupied area of where your work out buddy was.

He was listening to music through he wireless headphones, not paying attention to any surrounding noises or people. You sat your stuff down on a bench next to his stuff and got yourself ready by doing quick stretches.

You jogged over to him while he was bench pressing with a relaxed face. You lightly tapped him on his bulky shoulders that were exposed due to him wearing a black muscle shirt.

He opened one eye to see your small figure staring at him. You quickly looked away while red stared to burn your cheeks. He internally chuckled and placed the weights back in position.

"Hey Y/n, are you ready?" He asked. You asked him if he could help you lift weights since you are getting there to lift. You nodded quickly still not giving a single glance.

He wants you to look at him. "Are you sure?" You nodded again this time fiddling with your fingers. He smiled at you and walked off signaling you to follow him.

He took you to the weights that weren't as heavy and could support your body structure.

You got under the weights with him behind you in case you drop the weights on you. He was vigorously close to you. So close that you could feel the bulge of his cock rubbing against your ass.

You both got into position and squatted down. He didn't want to take control over your body. You squatted down fully but he was mostly down to your lower back.

"I-it's a bit m-much.." you trailed off your voice.

"We could stop if you don't wanna go too far." He replied.

"Nhh.. No it's fine." You groaned.

You managed to squat down almost close to the floor but let out a deepened breath. "O-okay, can we stop now?" You panted.

He nodded and put the weights back in place. You went over and sat over at a bench, panting as hard as a dog that ran a mile.

"Here," he said handing you a water bottle. You grabbed it and took a big sip.

Sweat was dripping down your body and he wanted to take advantage of that. He wipped the sweat off your forehead which made you pause in your tracks. You felt yourself getting warmer and just looked down at the low carpeted floor.

He audibly chuckled at your antics. He got up and went over to pack up for the day, grabbing his and your bags, "Wanna come over to my house to make a protein shake?" He asked looking over his shoulder at you.

"I-I don't k-know. I d-don't wanna be a bother.." you trailed off while shakily playing with your fingers.

He grabbed you by your wrist. "Don't worry, it won't be." He gave you a calming smirk but you didn't know the true intentions behind it.

You nodded and let him drag you off to automatic doors leading outside of the gymnasium. You both walked into the parking lot and went over to his car. He has a nice car surprisingly.

He went over to the passenger side and opened the door for you. You oblige and gave him a nervous smile.

He shut the door and went over to the driver's side.

A few minutes passed and you arrived at a luxurious apartment complex. You stared in awe at the minimalist apartment.

"Wow, you live here?" You looked at him with your doe eyes which made his heart jump. "Yeah, it's not much." Your jaw dropped but quickly closed it.

You both got out of the car and you grabbed the bags of gym equipment. He ran to your side and took the bags out of your grasp. You gave a look of concern but shook it off.

You both arrived at his apartment door and he unlocked it. He had a simple color theme: Beige, darker beiges, and black.

He told you to make yourself at home. You walked towards the kitchen and sat on one of the barstool chairs.

He didn't want to make a protein shake with you. He wanted you, to breed you to the brim. Some way somehow he'd get you to have sex with him. Even if he has to manipulate you into saying sex is a better exercise.

"Hey, you still wanna make them?" You asked glancing away from your phone. "We'll do that later. C'mere," he said motioning you to follow him.

"U-uhh, sure." You said placing your phone face down on the counter top.

You followed him to his room with a king sized bed for a single guy. "H-hey, are you single?" You asked. "Why? Are you interested?" He had a smirk in his voice.

You started to panic. "N-no! It's b-because you have a king- s-sized bed.." you replied shyly. "Don't worry your pretty little head, I live alone." You let out a relieved sigh.

"So what are we gonna do?" You asked.

"There's one thing I wanna do." You tilted your head waiting for him to continue. "Theres this exercise that helps with stamina and helps it build up quickly." He said.

"W-what's it called?" You kept your head tilted.

"It's called 'sex'." He said with a poker face. Your face went up into flames(not fire), you were pretty sure intercourse wasn't for exercise purposes, maybe for practicing but not that.

"I-if it helps w-with my stamina they y-yeah.." you said. You felt the lower part of your body throbbing at the thought of that.

You noticed he had a big bulge in his pants that stuck up.

He grabbed you by the wrist and slammed you on the bed. You yelped as he ripped your sports bra off exposing your tits. The cool air brushed against your nipples which made them harden.

"I'll buy you new ones." His voice was laced with lust and need. His eyes were glowing a lighter shade.

He ripped off your shorts and tossed them somewhere on the carpeted floor. "I don't think you need preparation due to how wet you are, hmm?" He said while rubbing your clit. Your breathing got faster and your eyes were half lidded. You were squirming a bit much which made him grip your waist tightly which caused a yelp to leave your mouth.

He stuffed two fingers inside your cunt which you moaned loudly at.

He fingered you at a steady pace and you were already close to coming. Your panting got more faster as you were now close. He pulled out his fingers before you could come.

"W-why'd you st-" you got cut off by feeling his long, girthy cock tap your thigh. Your eyes widen at the sight.

You gulped and whined as he aligned the tip of his cock against your pussy. He slowly pushed in, being addicted to you squeezing around his cock. It felt as if he was splitting you into two.

You screamed loudly and he had to place his hand on your throat. "Do you want the neighbors to think I'm killing someone?" He gave you a very serious look. You shook your head quickly and he picked up the pace of rocking his hips back and forth.

Your juices were webbed around his cock. A prominent bulge appeared in your stomach as he rammed into your cervix.

His thrust got faster which startled you a bit and caused you to scratch him. You scratched him hard it was easy enough to draw blood which it did.

He let out a pained groan and leaned down to your neck to place a bite mark on your neck. You were sure people could see it if you didn't cover it.

His thrust got sloppier and you came for the nth time.

You let out a loud moan which caused him to release sticky ropes of cum into you which reached your cervix.

You were both on edge of panting. He was still letting loads of cum into your hole. You were sure to get pregnant and thats what he wanted.

King

Part II.

You hate Tsukishima Kei. With a passion. Seriously. But what happens when you, the manager of his college volleyball team, get stuck in a hotel room with him? For an entire week... With only a king bed for both of you to sleep on...

Warnings: fem!bodied reader, choking, unprotected sex, bullying (on both sides), one bed trope (lol).

Word Count: 4900+

Minors DNI, please and thank you. All characters are 18+.

A/N: I'm back with another Tsukki drabble 😌 Let's fucking go.

Smut is below the cut, as always.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” the coach was saying on the other end of the phone, “but because we added Jiro so last minute this week, I’m going to have to put you with one of the guys on the team. I already called the hotel, and they don’t have any more rooms available.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. Of course. You didn’t think of this when Jiro unexpectedly transferred into the program and made the volleyball team this past week. You had been so wrapped up in your own excitement for the tournament that you forgot you wouldn’t get a room all to yourself this time.

“It’s no biggie, Coach,” you reply. But it is a biggie. “I don’t mind.” But I do mind. “Put me with whoever is willing to room with me!” Don’t you dare put me with that bastard Tsukishima.

“Y/N, I really can’t thank you enough for being so understanding. I’ll make sure to be extra careful next tournament so I can give you your own room like normal! Can’t wait to see you Monday morning!”

After you hang up the phone, you find annoyance bubbling up in your chest. It would be your luck that the hotel is fully booked, but then you should have expected that considering what tournament was happening this upcoming week. As you shove stuff into your suitcase, you try to come to terms with who you might room with. Jiro would be fine, since you didn’t really know each other. You’d even be fine with the team captain, Yuuji. Anyone but Tsukishima.

Before you went to sleep for the night, you prayed to any God out there that you’d get paired with anyone else on the team.

But your prayers go unanswered.

“Everyone was too shy to room with you, Y/N,” Coach was explaining to you as he walked you to your room. You had a glare plastered on your face at him. “And no one wanted to room with Tsukishima either. So, the best thing I could have done to make sure my team gets along for this tournament is-”

“To put Tsukishima with me?” you say with disgust.

“I’m not happy about it either,” Tsukishima says from beside you, glare also evident on his face. Only it’s directed at you.

You turn a harsh look on him. “No one was speaking to you, four eyes,” you snap.

“You little…” he mutters, turning to tower over you.

“Okay, you two,” the coach interrupts. “Here is your room.” He scans the key card and ushers Tsukishima in. He turns to you, handing you the key card before ushering you in as well. “Don’t lose that. I want you to be in charge of it.” You nod along as you step into the room.

“WHAT?” Tsukishima yells from inside.

You feel your annoyance bubbling up to the surface again. “Oi, Tsukishima, pipe down,” you scold.

“Y/N,” he says to get your attention. You finally glance up at him, glare ready, eye twitching to find him looking worse for wear. “There’s only one bed.”

You feel your face drop and whirl yourself around to tell coach.

“Uh, I gotta go check on the others!” he says as he dashes out of the doorway, letting the door come to a close.

So, you stand there, next to the bastard Tsukishima, at the foot of the bed, both of you in utter disbelief as you stare at the one king sized bed in the center of the room. It’s silent for a long moment.

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” you tell him matter-of-factly.

“What?!” he exclaims. “The floor is hardwood, Y/N! I have a tournament to play in this week! You’re the one that is going to be sleeping on the floor.”

You turn to him, a look of utter disgust on your face only to find he is returning the look. “You’d really make your team manager sleep on the hardwood floor?” you ask, hoping to bait him into saying no, he wouldn’t do that to you.

“Yes.”

“What?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yes, I would make my snotty team manager sleep on the hardwood floor.” He sneers down at you.

Before you can stop yourself, you raise a fist, ready to punch him, but he just sticks an arm out, hand pressing against your forehead as he continues to push you away, laughing as you struggle to get a hit in. This bastard and his ridiculously long monkey arms…

You huff out as you straighten your clothes, and he crosses his arms. “I’m going to take a shower,” you tell him. “And when I come out, I better see your bed made up on the floor.”

He scoffs and waves you away with a roll of his eyes. You feel your eye start twitching again as you close the door to the bathroom and turn the water on. As you step into the shower, you feel your anger spike again. How dare he try to make you sleep on the floor?! Didn’t his mother teach him any manners?!

You were hoping the warm water would calm you down, but as you step out onto the towel outside of the shower you find that, in your annoyance, you forgot to get your clothes from your suitcase. You curse yourself underneath your breath before wrapping a towel tightly around your body.

You crack open the bathroom door and peek out. You can see Tsukishima lounging on the bed in the reflection of the mirror right outside the bathroom door. He’s playing on his phone. Thinking you could get to your suitcase quickly without him noticing, you pad out to the living area only to come to a halt when you realize your suitcase is on the side of the bed he is currently laying on.

“T-Tsukishima,” you stutter out, nerves getting the best of you.

“What is it now?” he says as he lowers his phone to glare at you.

Your face reddens as he makes eye contact, his glare falling into a look of awe and disbelief. His own face begins to redden before he turns quickly away.

“Have you lost your mind?!” he damn near shouts at you.

“I forgot my clothes, you asshole!” you shout at his back. “And my suitcase is by you!”

“Well, hurry up and get your clothes, for Christ’s sake!”

You hesitate. “Don’t look at me,” you tell him, voice soft. “Promise you won’t look at me and then I’ll be able to get my clothes.”

He takes a deep breath before closing his eyes. “I won’t look,” he promises, voice surprisingly gentle. “I closed my eyes.”

You get to your suitcase and quickly throw it open. As you’re rummaging through its contents you glance up to see that his eyes were, in fact, closed. You feel your heart skip a beat at that, for whatever reason, and speed walk back to the bathroom with your clothes in hand.

Tsukishima waits until he hears the bathroom door close again before he blows out the breath he was holding. He turns to look at the space you just occupied outside of the bathroom door and feels his face heat up again. He knew you were pretty. Hell, everyone knew you were drop dead gorgeous. Other teams would make comments before, during and after games. It drove him and his teammates nuts. Though, they would all be lying if they said they never fantasized about you before. Him included. He would often find himself being dragged into locker room talk about you after practice, after games, during team study sessions that you were never invited to. He never participated simply because he respected you too much to talk about you in that manner. His teammates thought it was just because he hated you.

The way you two interacted never went unnoticed by anyone. Perhaps putting you two together in a room was the coach’s way of telling you two to get over it. It felt like Coach was telling him he had to be friends with you. The only problem is that Tsukishima didn’t want to be friends with you in the first place.

And so, he finds himself setting up a wall of pillows in the middle of the bed. He doesn’t want to sleep on the floor, and he certainly doesn’t want you to. As he is placing the last pillow, you exit the bathroom, wet hair dripping onto the oversized tee shirt you were wearing. When he turns to look at you, he notices that the tips of your cheekbones are still a light shade of pink. Then he glances down.

“Oi, Y/N,” he says lowly, voice laced with annoyance.

“What?” you snap back.

“Where are your pants?” He points at your bare legs.

You feel your face heat up at ten times the speed. “I am wearing pants!” you exclaim, hoisting your shirt up past your navel in anger. “I’m wearing shorts!”

In your haste, you didn’t realize just how high you had yanked the shirt up.

So, there you were, shirt held tightly in your hands showing off your short sleep shorts… and the bottom half of your breasts.

“Put your shirt down!” he shouts, nearly tripping over his own suitcase as he runs over to you, grabs the hem, and yanks your shirt back down over your body.

You turn your face up at him, brows knitting together as you frown at him, completely unaware of just how much you were showing him. “I was just showing you that I had shorts on underneath this shirt,” you tell him.

“Yes, yes,” he responds, “you’ve made your point.” But I didn’t need to see that, he thinks to himself. Now how will I be able to sleep knowing they’re right next to me? And they look like that?

His hands fist into your shirt at your waist and you suddenly become very aware of him touching you.

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking a giant step away from him and pushing his hands off of you. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

As Tsukishima is brushing his teeth, you walk around the room to shut lights off, leaving the bedside light on, and adjust the thermostat. You come to a halt as you lift the covers to get into the bed. You stare blankly at the wall of pillows in the center.

Tsukishima exits the bathroom, then, yawning loudly, stopping when you turn an annoyed look on him.

“I told you to sleep on the floor,” you ground out.

“And I told you, not happening,” he answers, voice snide.

“So, your solution was to put pillows between us?”

“I felt like it was a fair compromise,” he answers. “I don’t want to touch you; you don’t want to touch me.”

“And you think pillows are going to keep us separated? All night?”

“I do. Oh, and you’re sleeping closest to the wall.” He moves to where you’re standing, pushing you aside and climbing into the bed.

You stand there in disbelief. He must have lost his mind. You turn to glance around the room and notice that the side closest to the wall is farthest from the door. You feel your heart skip a beat again.

“Tick tock, Y/N,” he says as he reaches to shut the last lamp off. “What will it be?” He sneers up at you before he flips the switch, and the room goes black.

Before you can think too much about it, you stomp over to the other side of the bed.

“Stay on your side,” you tell him as you settle in.

“That won’t be a problem,” he answers back.

You turn on your side away from him, staring at the wall for what feels like forever until sleep finally pulls you under.

A knock on the door wakes you up the next morning, a voice outside telling you to come get breakfast before the bus leaves in two hours for the games.

But it’s so warm, you think as you burrow your head deeper into your pillow. You could get away with five more minutes, right? But another knock sounds on the door, signaling that it was, indeed, time to get up. You forgot coach made two rounds just ten minutes apart.

As your eyes flutter open, you realize why you feel so warm.

Tsukishima’s arms are wound tightly around your waist, your head comfortably tucked underneath his chin, face pressed into his chest. Your own arms betrayed you in your sleep as well, you notice, as you become painfully aware of their position around his body. The pillows that were meant to keep you separated are nowhere in sight. You feel your anxiety spike when you realize he has you practically trapped.

“Tsukishima,” you say trying to wake him.

He groans before his arms tighten around you. “Five more minutes,” he pleads, voice groggy. If you weren’t so anxious, you would think he sounded somewhat hot.

“Tsukki,” you try again, opting for his nickname.

He groans again, body shifting slightly before sighing, still not awake.

“Tsukki,” you say, louder this time.

He finally opens one eye to look at you, annoyed. You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, pleading with him silently to let you go.

“Uhm,” you start.

“Why are you so close to me?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

Instead of answering, you move your eyes down to look at his arms currently wrapped around your waist. It takes Tsukishima a long second to realize why you’re so close to him. Then he is shoving you away from him as if he had touched a hot stovetop. You shriek as he launches himself away from you and off the bed, waist throbbing in pain from where he had hastily shoved you away. You rub the spot with a hand.

“What the hell, Tsukishima?” You glare at him. “You didn’t have to push me that hard.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” he suggests before turning on his heel and heading into the bathroom.

So, you decide to ignore what happened. For days. If the team advances every single day, you could be sharing a room with him for the next seven days. Lo and behold, they do. You had been avoiding each other since you woke up somehow encased in his arms, eating meals separately and coming back to the hotel room at different times.

But the night before the championship game, the coach makes everyone go to their rooms early, saying something about how everyone needs to get a good night of sleep.

And so here you are, at 10:00 PM, wide awake next to the wide-awake Tsukishima whom you haven’t spoken to in days simply because you haven’t had to. Nor did you really want to, for that matter. You’re separated by pillows, but it feels like he is closer than ever to you. If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear his breathing.

“Ugh,” you finally groan. “I can’t sleep.” You frown up at the ceiling.

“Maybe if you changed your attitude, you’d be asleep by now,” Tsukishima says from beside you.

You sit up to glare at him. “I don’t see you sleeping either,” you point out.

“I’m not sleeping because I’ve chosen not to sleep yet,” he replies.

You scoff. “Yeah right, I bet its because you’ve had to sit the bench the last two games.” You were taking a low blow, you knew that. But still, you said it.

He shoots up into a sitting position on his side of the bed now, returning your glare with just as much fervor. “It’s not my fault I’ve been off my game the last couple of days. It’s because I have to share a room with the most aggravating person on the planet!”

“Oh yes, because it’s certainly not the fact that you suck at volleyball.”

Suddenly, he’s in your face. “Say that again,” he dares you.

You swallow thickly before shaking your head, glare nowhere to be found now.

“Funny how you think I suck at volleyball, but I must be good at something else in your dreams.”

You feel your face heat up. “W-what are you talking about?” you stutter.

“You mean to tell me you haven’t been dreaming of me every single night since that first morning?”

“No,” you answer, a little too quickly. You avert your gaze away from him.

“You trying to tell me you aren’t the one I hear every night moaning ‘Yes, Tsukki, right there, Tsukki’?” His voice goes up an octave as he imitates your voice and you’d very much like to crawl in a hole and die.

You had had dreams about him this week, yes, you couldn’t deny that. But were you really moaning for him in your sleep?

“You’re lying,” you accuse, voice shaky.

“Am I, though?” His hand finds its way underneath your chin, tilting your face up to his. When your gazes meet, you find that he is suffocatingly close to you. One wrong move and your lips could be touching. “Look me in the face and tell me I’m lying.” His voice oozes confidence.

Suddenly, your tongue feels too big for your mouth. You can’t even form words as you try to look away from him. To be honest, you didn’t know if he was lying or not, but you can’t exactly hear yourself while you sleep.

“Huh, look at that,” he muses as his hand moves from your chin, gliding across your jaw and into your hair at the nape of your neck. “Cat got your tongue?” He’s mocking you now. His hand fists into your hair as you avert your eyes again and he yanks your head back to look at him. You gasp out, surprised. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” When you make eye contact with him again, he smirks. “Good girl.”

You feel your face heat up at his words, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach as butterflies erupt across your chest.

“Oh? Did you like that?”

You try to shake your head no but find that you can’t move because his hand is still in your hair.

“Use your words, Y/N,” he tells you, voice stern.

You swallow. “N-No,” you stammer.

Suddenly, his lips are by your ear. “Liar,” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine. The feeling of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear has your sex throbbing. God, you feel like such a virgin right now.

He chuckles as he pulls back to look at your face, lips tilting up into another smirk. Your eyes are wide and doe-like, shining with a few tears, almost like you’re begging for him to take it a step further. Your bottom lip is quivering slightly, and he thinks it’s cute. He searches your face as he shifts onto his knees in front of you, hand loosening in your hair as he cups your head in his hands, thumbs underneath your jaw to direct your face up to his.

“Tell me if I’m taking things too far,” he murmurs, voice suddenly soft.

You don’t even have time to react when he crashes his lips roughly into yours. You gasp out of surprise, and he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. As his tongue strokes yours for the first time, you let out a soft moan at the feeling and finally return his kiss.

Tsukishima almost sighs in relief as you come alive beneath him, and he begins shoving you down onto the mattress. You let him, back hitting the mattress as he moves his mouth to your neck. You part your knees to accommodate his body as his hips make contact with your own. You crane your neck to give him more access as he sucks a bruise right into your jugular. He’s pushing your shirt up and grabbing both of your breasts roughly in his hands. Involuntarily, you thrust your hips up into his, causing his clothed cock to rub right up against your core.

He moves his mouth down quickly to capture a nipple. You cover your mouth to keep yourself from moaning as his tongue flicks across the hardening bud, hips grinding down into you to rub his hardening dick against you again. You moan at the feeling, essence leaking out into your panties as he switches sides, giving the same treatment to your other nipple, hands holding your hips in place as he relentlessly grinds against you.

Your hands are in his hair, back arching to push your tit further into his mouth as you moan out a soft call of his nickname.

His weight leaves your body as he moves to loom above you, hands planted by your head to hold himself up. He’s looking down at you, annoyed, sizing you up. Your chest is heaving, tits on full display with your shirt pushed up past your chest. Your lips are swollen, and your face is flushed.

“It’s Kei to you, right now,” he informs you, voice low. “Got it?”

You nod at him as you try to catch your breath.

Before you realize what he is doing, he has a hand in your sleep shorts and two fingers buried knuckle deep in your dripping hole. You gasp out, hand reaching to wrap around his wrist.

“Words, Y/N,” he reminds you as he watches your face contort in pleasure beneath him.

His fingers begin to pull out. “Ye-” you begin, but he shoves his fingers right back into you, smirking as you finish the S, the sound somewhere between a hiss and a moan.

“Thatta girl,” he praises as he slowly begins fucking you with his fingers, mouth finding its way back to your left nipple.

He sucks the bud into his mouth harshly, ripping a loud moan from your chest as he hooks his fingers up inside of you to hit your g-spot at the same time. He pulls his fingers from your shorts as he begins kissing down your body, fingers moving to pull your shorts and underwear off as his tongue glides across your navel. He sits up and tosses the garments to the floor. Suddenly feeling shy, you close your legs off to him. He makes eye contact with you as his hands find your knees and roughly push your legs apart, baring your pussy to him for the first time.

“Fuck,” he mutters as his hands glide down your inner thighs, body moving to settle his face right where you wanted him the most.

He makes eye contact with you as he brings his mouth closer to your sex, tongue darting out to lick a stripe right between your folds. He groans, eyes closing for a moment.

“Just as I thought,” he comments, “taste so fucking sweet.”

Your face heats up at double the speed, but before you can respond he dives right in, eating you like a man starved. His tongue makes figure eights over your clit, and you tangle your hands in his hair, shoving him deeper into you.

“Yes, Kei,” you moan out as he sucks your clit into his mouth. The sound of his first name falling from your lips like that sounds so hot to him that he finds himself leaving your core in favor of quickly pulling off his own clothes.

You watch as he settles over you, now naked, cock finding its home right between your folds as his lips find yours in a searing kiss.

“Let me fuck you,” he begs as he pulls back, voice almost coming out as a whine, lips millimeters away from yours. He grinds his hips into you for emphasis, cock head bumping into your clit.

To answer him, you reach down to grab up his dick in your hand, eyes never leaving his. You give it a few good pumps before guiding him into you. Your mouth falls open as he slowly pushes past your entrance, small gasps leaving your lips at the feeling of him filling you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grounds out. “Relax, Y/N.”

You groan as he continues to push into you. Relax? How can you relax when the man you’ve been secretly pining for is currently all over you? Not to mention in you.

You reach up and pinch his bicep.

“Ow, what the hell?” He rubs the spot you pinched, glaring down at you.

“Oh, good. I’m not dreaming,” you reply, voice shaky, breathy laugh pushing past your lips. Without thinking, you bury your hands back into his hair and yank his face back down to yours, planting a kiss on his lips and licking into his mouth when he opens it to you.

His hips begin moving of their own accord, slowly rolling into you as your kiss gets more and more desperate. With each roll of his hips, it feels like he keeps reaching deeper and deeper inside you. You pull away from his lips to let out a load moan as the head of his cock grazes your cervix. His mouth heads south, licking and nipping at the skin on your jaw, neck and collarbones.

“You feel so fucking good,” he says into your skin before he’s reaching to push your knees up into your chest, effectively reaching a new depth inside of you.

You gasp out, finding it hard to catch your breath as your hands reach out to press against his abdomen. It does no good, though, as he relentlessly continues fucking you with a smirk plastered on his face.

“W-wait,” you gasp out, head falling back as stars find the edges of your vision when he picks up the pace. You feel the pleasure building up in your abdomen.

“No,” he tells you simply, voice breathy.

“No, wait,” you try again as the pleasure nears its peak. You want to hold out for as long as possible, but you don’t think you’ll be able to at the rate you’re going.

He shoves two fingers into your mouth, pressing your tongue down.

“Shh,” he shushes you.

You’re too stunned to push him away, but at the same time the action has your pussy clenching around him, and he curses from above you. With every thrust, the cord pulls tighter and tighter in your belly. It becomes almost painful trying to keep it at bay.

“Come on,” he encourages you, fingers leaving your mouth and opting to wrap around your neck. “Cum for me.”

At his words, you let yourself go, cumming around him as he continues fucking you, slowly pushing in and out of you while he tries to slow his own orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he praises as you come down, letting your feet fall back to the bed and planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

Before you can react, Tsukishima suddenly flips over onto your stomach and pulls your hips up, putting you on your hands and knees. You look back at him with wide eyes as he prods your entrance with his still hard cock before fully sheathing himself back inside you in one thrust.

Your back arches at the action, head falling back as a moan escapes your throat. He takes the opportunity to fist his hand into your hair and yank your body up so your back is flush against his front. He wraps his free arm around your waist, the hand that was wrapped in your hair coming around to find its home back around the column of your neck.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder as he continues fucking you, small gasps of “yes” leaving your lips as he builds you right back up to the edge.

“Look at you,” he comments. “You’re so fucking hot. It’s almost a shame I get to be the only one to see you like this.”

You can’t form a single coherent thought as you warn him of your approaching orgasm. He presses you right back down into the mattress to pick up his pace, slamming into you from behind as you bury your face into a pillow, crying out as you teeter right over the edge.

He fucks you through it again, pulling out at the last second to pump his length a few times before spilling his seed right onto your bare ass.

You both stay still as you come down, catching your breaths. It’s suddenly silent in your hotel room as the reality of what just happened dawns on both of you. You wait a few more beats, giving him a chance to break the silence before you do.

“Oi, Tsukishima…” you start, usual tone settled back into your voice. “You better clean that up.”

“Right…” he mutters. He leaves the bed to get a wet cloth, coming back to thoroughly wipe his cum off your ass.

You settle back onto your side of the bed as Tsukishima tosses the rag back into the bathroom. When he settles back onto his side you finally speak.

“Let’s… not talk about this,” you suggest.

He’s silent on the other side, probably in agreement, you think. So, you close your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, tears hot on your cheeks as they silently stain the pillow beneath your head in the dark.

Only you don’t know that Tsukishima is on the other side of the bed, hoping just as much as you are that that meant as much to you as it did to him.

The thought of having a stepdad that has the hots for me is such a turn on.. to think about him secretly glancing at me with not so innocent thoughts or to stand outside my bedroom door listening to me touching myself and wanting to come in and do something about that is so hot

Does bully!Eddie freak out when his girl misses a period, whether being actually pregnant or just a pregnancy scare, or does he lean into the dad role?

Follow-up is he disappointed when it's just a false alarm and he didn't manage to get his girl knocked-up?

Im gonna give two options for this cause I'm just obsessed with every outcome tbh lol

18+ under the cut, MDNI!! Tw: Period talk, illusions to s*x, illusions to oral f!recieving while bleeding, pregnancy, mean!eddie

If he was already trying to knock her up he would be so excited when she told him she was late. He would drag her out of school to go with him to a pharmacy to buy her a test. When it came back negative he'd be disappointed but he wouldn't show it Infront of her when he saw her sad lil face. Instead he would pull her to him, whisper dirty things about trying again in her ear and kiss her with so much intensity, she could've gotten knocked up from that kiss alone lol

If he wasn't trying and it was a genuine scare I think this is the event that would set off his breeding kink. At first she would be so scared to tell him, cause at this point he's still an asshole bully towards her.

She would be in the library trying to hide from him, sat on the floor behind a dusty bookshelf in the back but he found her anyway. He stood over her, shaking his head and tutting. Fuck he was scary when he wanted to be.

"I thought I told you to wait for me by the bleachers, little one? Wanna tell me why I had to find out from a freshman that you're sat in the library crying?"

Fresh tears spilled over her eyeline, and she hid her face in her knees. She hoped if she looked pathetic enough he would leave. Instead she felt him sit beside her, and wrap his arm around her, forcing her to lean into his side.

"I know you think being emotional would make me a little sympathetic towards you but I'll be honest, the whole pathetic crying thing? Really getting me going, Princess." His hand forced her to look up at him, "Who do I have to thank for giving me the chance to see such a sight, hmm?"

She sniffled, and tried to wipe her slightly runny nose but he beat her to it, pinching the tip and wiping away any snot that came away on his jeans.

"Well.. you know how th- um, when we *ahem* ... In your van?? I let you use me??" He nodded, eyebrows furrowing "I'm late.."

He waited for her to continue but she didn't. It took him a hot minute to understand what she was trying to tell him and he moved his arm from around her when it all clicked. His silence made her cry more. He was absentmindedly rubbing the scruff on his jaw as he tried to process the news.

"How late is.. late?" He asked without looking at her.

"About a week? I don't know, I'm just scared.." sobs started overcoming her, and his arm instinctively wrapped around her and pulled her to his lap. He quietly shhh'd and rocked her gently trying to help calm her down. He'd never been so soft with her but right now she felt so delicate he just wanted to protect her.

"There's still time right? Lets not freak out until it's a sure thing, princess." She nodded into his neck, and just let him take care of her too emotional and embarrassed to stop him. That was until he started acting like himself again.

"I must be some sort of sex god if I get you pregnant the first time you ever have sex, huh?" He laughed into her hair when her crying subsided making her scoff at him, and grab her bag. She stormed towards the library doors muttering about how much of a pig he was under her breath.

It was literally the next day when her period came so all those tears were for nothing. The cramps this time around were a bitch though so she called in sick from school. Eddie also skipped but it was because he slept in after being awake most of the night thinking about her. At first it was all innocent like how he was gonna provide for them both, where would the crib sit in his room, how the hell was he gonna fit a baby seat in his van which lead to how would he fit her giant belly in his van... her belly.. her big round pregnant belly... With swollen sensitive titties to match..

And it was his. He had done this to her and now they were bonded for life. She truly would never be able to get away from him. Well after that the inevitable happened and he couldn't stop jerking it to the thought of her naked rounded frame bouncing in his lap.

When he finally woke up he couldn't be bothered making it to school so he drove to her house instead. He wanted to wait for her in her room until she came home so he could fuss her but when he climbed through the window and saw her, he was so excited.

"Hey mama.. not at school today?" He asked, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto the bed next to her.

She huffed in response and turned to face him.

"I got my period..."

His face fell and hers wore a look of confusion. Why wasn't he happy about that?

"So... Not pregnant?"

She shook her head, and prepared herself for his celebration but it never came. When she looked back at his face, he looked like a pouty child in a candy store being told no more sugar until after dinner.

"Well, we'll just have to try again next month, right mama?" He smirked and pulled her towards him, manhandling her so he was big spoon.

"What?" She was about to wriggle from his grasp when his large warm hand found her abdomen and added pressure to relieve some of her pain. A small moan of relief escaped her, and her eyes closed, willing to let him cuddle her until her cramps subsided.

"The idea of you having my baby drove me insane last night, Princess. God, you're gonna look so hot when the bump starts to show!" He began nibbling on her earlobe, "wanna try again now?? Picturing you pregnant has me hard again"

She scoffed thinking he was messing with her and shook her head.

"Don't be so gross, no one has sex on their period!! It's messy.."

"you got a towel? I don't care about a bit of blood, mama. Actually it'd be pretty metal to have hot bloody sex, dontcha think?" She couldn't see his face yet she could somehow hear the smirk he was wearing.

"Not now, Eddie. I have really bad cram- oof!" He'd interrupted by flipping her onto her back, planting wet kisses down her neck.

"Another reason to do it! I hear orgasms are a fantastic pain relief!" He winked and trailed kisses down her body until he reached her frilly pink pj shorts. Making full eyecontact with her, he slowly tugged them down waiting for her protest but it never came. He always listened to her in case she didn't want to but he did ignore her when she said it would be gross. He didn't care, he wanted her to c*m on his face before he got to c*m inside her again.

She didn't get pregnant this time around but she did learn he was right about the pain relief...