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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“wow look at you. never thought i’d see the day the great tetsuro kuroo is bedridden from an injury.” you drop your backpack on the floor, crossing your arms over your chest with a smirk.
“it’s the first time old reliable science has let me down.” he lifts his hand to his forehead dramatically, dropping his head to the side.
“the science in question was physics, and last time i checked you were better at chemistry.” you tease, making your way towards the window to throw open the curtains. he winces, the afternoon sun now shines bright on his face since it faces the west, something he’s never really liked about his room.
“i like all sciences.” when you turn back to look at him with a smug grin, he can hear your voice in his head. “i dont want to hear your sass.”
“okay, grandpa.” you place your hand on the bright green cast on his leg and shake it. “you need me to get your cane? need help crossing the street?”
“you’re ridiculous.” he laughs as you pinch his exposed toes and make your way back to your bag. you pull out several textbooks and carefully labeled notebooks and sit cross legged on the floor. everything gets spread out into piles, and you take time explaining a plan of action for each. he moves to the edge of the bed, sliding down to meet you on the floor seconds later.
“kenma helped me get some of these since we don’t share every class, but i think this should cover everything you’ve been missing. there’s a couple short exams coming up, too, so you’ll need to be ready for that.” you relay more information to him, but he’s not listening. he’s watching the way your mouth moves, committing the way the sun looks on your skin to memory. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done this and definitely wouldn’t be the last. he’s an idiot who romanticised his time with you. he’s an idiot who’d realized how much he cared about you. he’s an idiot in love.
and if physics failed him, then he could always fall back on chemistry. because with so many shared memories, the two of you were covalent, and all it takes is one touch to feel oxytocin take control of his brain.
you sit by his side on the sofa, your feet propped up on an ottoman as two pillows prop up the small of your back.
there’s another pillow by your arm, and atsumu’s insisted that you keep warm at all times so you figure that explains the two blankets he carried over here from your room.
“tsumu.” you call out to him.
he looks at you, briefly, “i’m not leaving.” and his attention is back to the tv as he flips through the channels.
you sit up, or at least, you try to, and atsumu’s head snaps to you the second you move.
“what is it?” he asks, the tv remote dropping to his side as he focuses on you.
“please, i told you i’m fine.” you tell him, your words pressing, and your hand touching his arm, “you have a game tomorrow, i don’t want you —”
he shakes his head, “don’t think about that right now.”
your eyebrows furrow, and you’d say something after that but he gives you a look that you probably shouldn’t.
atsumu presses, “you’re injured.”
and you roll your eyes, “i’m not!”
earlier this day, as you and atsumu decided to go about and clean around the house (the first mistake, your husband tells you), you might have taken one step too far on the step ladder.
of course, you didn’t really anticipate falling from such a height, but you were at least lucky to not have been high enough to actually cause some serious injuries.
atsumu’s been by your side the entire day, and with every move or noise or groan you make, he’s always there nonstop asking if you’re okay.
“i have a back spasm,” you scoff gently, “it’s normal.”
atsumu crosses his arms, “the mere fact that it’s a spasm does not make it normal.”
you love atsumu with all your heart, you wouldn’t have married him whilst still in college if you didn’t, but right now, knowing that he has to go and rest for his big game tomorrow, all you want is for him to go.
“i’m fine, i promise you.” you smile, watching him pick up the empty plate dish from the table and bring it over to the kitchen.
you sit up as much as you can, “tsumu! i’m fine!” you yell from your spot.
a second later atsumu comes back from the other room, arms crossed over his chest, and he leans on the archway that separates the kitchen from the living room.
“okay.” he looks at you, “stand up.”
your shoulders rise, “what?”
and atsumu tells you again, “stand up.”
your shoulders rise again, chest heaving upwards as you scoff a laugh, and you nod persistently, “i can stand up.”
he looks at you, prodding you on to do so. you roll your eyes.
the standing up process is definitely easier said than done in your situation. you tilt to the side as your arms prop you up, and aside from awkward position (and the grunting), you’re just glad that you actually did manage to stand up straight.
“see.” you put your hand on your hip, looking at atsumu with a broken smile, “totally fine.”
atsumu looks unconvinced. his eyebrows raising as if he’s asking ‘are you serious?’.
he looks at you, “move.”
and you scoff, “you’re insane!”
atsumu shakes his head, “if you’re fine, like how you’ve been telling me for the past hour, you can move.”
“fine,” you bite, frowning, “i’ll move.”
your husband keeps his eye on you, still leaning promptly against the archway, arms crossed and waiting.
“any second now the moving will begin.” you pursue your lips, the hand on your hip slightly shaking.
he tilts his head.
your shoulders fall, “tsumu, please don’t make me move.”
you fall back down on the couch, groaning a little bit as you do, and the stinging ache in your back makes it pretty clear to you that maybe the annoying blond man looking at you right now might be right.
atsumu walks over to you, a small smile on his face, he kisses your forehead, and he tells you, grinning, “i’ll make you some coffee.”
(you frown, eyes narrowing, ‘oh, fuck you,’ and he smiles, kissing your forehead again, ‘maybe when you feel better.’)
he walks back to the kitchen, leaving you alone again with your mountains of pillows and unnecessary blankets.
your eyes fall on the tv, remembering how atsumu was so focused on it before, and it’s only now you realize that he put on your favorite movie.
maybe it’s the way he remembers what it was or that he’s gone through the effort to put it on for you, but right now, as you stare at the movie playing in front of you, you are feeling pretty cared for.
atsumu comes back a few minutes later, two cups of hot coffee in his hand, and he takes his familiar seat back as you move further to the side gently.
he hands you the cup, and because you’ve been feeling so cared for, you can’t help but feel just as smitten as the first time you’ve met him.
there are butterflies in your belly.
you take a sip of the coffee.
your eyebrows furrow, “oh god.”
“what is it? are you in pain?” atsumu sits up, turning to you after he places his own cup down on the table.
“only my mouth.” you gag, “this is the worst coffee i’ve had in my life!”
the butterflies are gone. it’s now replaced with the tangy aftertaste of horrible caffeine.
atsumu scoffs, his worry dying down as his shoulders fall, and he drops back to his spot on the couch.
“it’s like bitter and way too sweet at the same time,” you frown, your nose scrunching, “how does that even happen?”
atsumu smiles, shoving your shoulder lightly, and he shakes his head, “you’re horrible.”
you smile, laughing, “never make coffee again.”
he keeps his toothy grin, inching closer to you, and he smiles widely when there’s little to no space left in between.
he kisses you gently, pulling away as quick as he kissed you.
he nods, “i promise never to make coffee again.”
“okay good, cause i know we said in our vows to share whatever we have with each other but please never share this coffee with anyone again.” you nod your head as you speak, laughing here and there as atsumu keeps rolling his eyes at you.
he scoffs playfully, “now you’re just having fun insulting me.”
“and your coffee making skills.” you point out, smiling, “i am also insulting that.”
he shakes his head disapprovingly, and you laugh, your hands making its way to both sides of his face, and with a big grin, you pull his lips onto yours.
he smiles widely against your lips, but still kissing you back anyways.
grinning and giggling and laughing as the two of you stay there on the couch kissing, and you would pull away for a second only to have atsumu pull you in again.
it’s almost like it’s just another snowy night on the couch, eating pizza and putting on movies only to ignore it by making out like teenagers in the back of a movie theater.
you pull away, sitting back on your spot, and the night continues on with the two of you.
“you nervous for your game tomorrow?” you ask him, giving him a glance or two before he finally looks back at you.
he doesn’t hesitate, “yes.”
and you tell him, “you’ll be amazing.”
and he grins, “oh, i know that.”
(you hit his shoulder lightly.)
“i just ….” atsumu looks at you, shrugging, unsure of what to say.
“i need you in there with me, even if you’re just in the crowds.” his hand falls on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly, “that’s why i need you to be okay.”
now, you feel kinda stupid for pushing him away all day.
“i’m fine.” you remind him, smiling, “this’ll pass in the morning.”
you take another sip from the mug in your hands.
you look over to atsumu and he gives you a small grin, his attention from the tv coming back to you the second your glance falls on him.
“it just keeps getting worse with each sip.” you scrunch your nose.
and he rolls his eyes, laughing slightly, “okay, i’m taking the bad coffee away from you now.”
“i think i picked my college.” osamu tells you, reserved as he strides by your side, and he’s much more calmer than he expected to be when he first initially thought of bringing this up.
college was an icy topic. it was impractical to put it off, especially when graduation was just around the corner, but your relationship with him was new, and he didn’t want to feel the pressure of asking you if you’d wanted to go long distance or just breaking it off.
“it’s a nice school,” he says, and he shrugs, “i don’t think tsumu’s coming with me though.”
“are you excited?” you ask, and he hears the smile in your voice without having to look at you.
he shrugs.
you chide, “oh, don’t play cool, i know you’re excited.”
“shut up,” he says, and he grins, “it’s a good school.”
so the relationship was new. that doesn’t mean it meant anything less to him. if anything, he’s still berating himself for waiting this long to tell you about how he felt, and he certainly didn’t need college ending it way sooner than he wanted.
osamu spares you a glance, “plus its not very far from the school you chose.”
he hopes you don’t notice how his voice is slightly quieter, and he’s avoiding every chance to see how you reacted.
“we’ll be 12.7 miles apart.” he mentions, a bit bashful of how he knows this, but he figured you ought to know too.
you ask him, a bit surprised, “you looked it up?”
“i was bored.” he quickly tells you back, rolling his eyes as he sees you chirp, and he hopes you don’t take it the wrong way.
“oh.” you grin, teasing, “so, you looked it up.”
osamu narrows his eyes. “because i had nothing better to do.”
you laugh, short lived, and you hum, nodding as you’re eager to take his warm hand in yours.
you smile, “you looked it up.”
he thinks, of course, why wouldn’t he? it took him years of pining to finally ask you out, he’s not just going to let college and bit of distance ruin it.
besides, to osamu, you were worth being put into consideration.
“yeah.” he tells you, finally giving in, and he doesn’t realize until then how flushed he must’ve looked.
so the relationship was new, who cares? there’s an easy way to fix new, and it’s by making sure the two of you last long enough for it to become indefinite instead.
Premise: in which an accidental run-in with pro volleyball player, Atsumu Miya, at a 7/11 leads to a strangers-to-lovers situation… but the catch is, you have no idea that he’s famous.
(slow burn, angst, fluff)
The Lineup:
↳ pt. 1
↳ pt. 2
↳ pt. 3
↳ pt. 4
↳ pt. 5
↳ pt. 6
↳ pt. 7 (coming soon)
cont…
—-
★ follow along on AO3: here
★ send an ask or drop a comment to be added to the taglist
the untouchable playlist - the vibe (essentially: what i write untouchable to)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
HAIKYUU BOYS AND SHARING A BED TROPES | PT. 2 | PT. 1
PAIRINGS: Bokuto Koutarou x Reader | Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader | Yamaguchi Tadashi x Reader | Tsukishima Kei x Reader
GENRE:
WARNINGS:
ANON ASKED: Hey there! I loved your sharing a bed trope, would you be willing to do it for Asahi, Yamaguchi, Sugawara and Kei? Thank you if you do!
A/N: hey babes, unfortunately i dont really write for asahi or sugawara, so i hope you can accept bokuto and kuroo instead <3 and thank you for liking the first part, i had so much fun writing it— also sorry these are so much longer i got a lil distracted akjds
KOUTAROU — The "It's So Cold Can I Sleep In There With You?" trope:
The heater broke. Of course, the heater broke. The temperature would not stop dropping it seemed like. The hairs on his arms and legs are stuck up as he lays on your floor underneath a thin blanket, and his breaths become more forced to try and heat up his hands. He figured you were sleeping fine, under all those comforters— something he wished he was under as well. No matter how many times he would rub his feet together for friction or would blow slowly on his skin to heat up or squint his eyes closed to try and force himself asleep, it didn't work. His shivers and his jittering teeth would keep him up. He was going to bear it though— until he heard your raggedy breaths and your tiny whimpers in complaint. "Y/n?" He whispers in the dark. "Yeah, Kou?" You answer with a shaky voice. "Are you cold?" "A little bit. Are you?" "Yeah," he sighs, sinking himself into the cold surface of his blankets. He didn't know if your silence was you thinking or hesitating to say something, but he patiently waited for your response. "Kou?" You call from the blue, tugging his attention further. "What is it?" He can hear the sheets rustle a bit before he sees the dark shadow of the blanket being lifted from the side of the bed. "Come in here with me." Woah. He had to be honest, he wasn't expecting that. Even though he was already getting up, he had to ask, "are you sure," just to be safe. When he saw the slight nod of your head and the scoot of your body to the other side of your mattress, he slid himself in. It was a lot warmer than his bed, he'll be honest, but he didn't want to admit he liked it because it was your body heat. He huffed when he settled in, trying to shuffle and get his body nice and warm to sleep before he looked at your figure across from him. Suddenly, his heart fluttered. Even though he could only see your silhouette, you looked so pretty. "Hey, Y/n," he murmurs with his face halfway under the covers while scooting his body the tiniest bit closer to you. "Um, yeah?" You breathed. "C'mere," was all he added before dragging your limbs to his body and letting his hands roam your back. It finally got warm.
TETSUROU — The "I Heard Cuddling Helps You Sleep Better" trope:
He had always sucked at flirting, you admit to yourself every day, but what really sucked was that you fell for it every damn time. It was just a casual hangout in his room where you both ended up laying down on his mattress and looking at the little glow-in-the-dark star stickers on his ceiling, pointing at them and attempting to make up constellations. "Hey, wait, look at that one," he points out, nudging your arm against his to gather your attention. "Yeah, I pointed that out like, ten minutes ago," you laugh. "Okay, well—" he defends hopelessly, "I got nothin'." You giggle once more before you turn your head to lie your cheek against his blanket and watch his playful grin grow and his eyes relax in satisfaction. He looks so peaceful, you thought as you let a yawn escape you. He side-eyed you curiously until he let himself turn and face you fully. "Tired?" "I guess so." "You know, I heard cuddling helps you sleep better," he slyly pulls off, watching you chuckle and shake your head. "What? I'm right," he laughs with you. "How would you know? Last time I checked I'm the first person to willingly lay on your bed with you," you tease, earning a pout from him. "Well, we could find out, couldn't we?" He smirks, taking his victory when you scoff. "C'mon! Let's get you to sleep, Baby," he practically coos while he sits up energetically and folds the blankets over themselves to create room for you. You roll your eyes, but you cooperate, slipping inside his refreshing sheets and breathing in the sweet scent of his laundry freshener. You politely wait for his arrival, watching him dip inside and pull the sheets over his shoulder. "Y/n," he says, deadpanning at your figure almost a foot away from him. "Yes?" "You're forgetting the 'cuddling' part of my joke." "Oh, I am?" You slip innocently. He only scoffs before he scoots himself closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and pushing your head close to his chest. His legs had found themselves weaving with yours, intertwining gently and comfortably. Hmm, you thought. Maybe this was better. He definitely thought so when he heard your tiny snores and felt your hands press on his chest. Yeah. Definitely better.
TADASHI — The "I Have Constant Nightmares Please Sleep With Me" trope:
"Y/n?" He asks the moment you sit up from his desk, about to grab your things. "Yeah?" "Can you do me a favor?" "Sure, what is it?" He fiddles with his hands as he sat straight up on his bed, looking down at his fidgeting fingers. "Tadashi? What's wrong?" You frown and sit next to him in worry, watching his expression change. "It's nothing, I just wanted to know if," he breathed, "you could sleepover? Tonight?" He almost winced at his sentence, not wanting to risk rejection. Your eyes widened, surprised by the question, but you felt relieved at the same time. You wouldn't tell him that you've been wanting to do this for months— no. So, sighing, you nod your head with a gentle smile. "Of course. I'd love to." You didn't miss the lit-up face he made before "coughing" and covering it up. You giggled. An hour later, when you lay awkwardly in bed with him, you have a weird feeling. You two are barely touching each other, and his breaths seem...off. You could hear and feel the sheets rustle before you, watching his fingers tremble slightly while his bottom lip quivers and his squinting eyes scan around in confusion. He was still asleep, but he seemed wide awake somewhere else. You came to the conclusion that he was currently having a nightmare— and a bad one at that. You couldn't stop yourself from moving closer and wrap yourself around him, as well to wipe the wet streams from his face. He suddenly gasped awake, only to find his head facing your chest and your legs threaded with his and your arms keeping him close. He felt ashamed to have shown that to you. He felt bad. But it was only when you asked, "are you okay? Wanna talk about it?" In the dark, silent room where he suddenly felt lighter and less dragged down. "Um, I'm okay now, thank you," he says, letting his own arm drape along your face and allowing his head to snuggle further into you. He was appreciative of your actions as he smiled to himself on your skin, your lips pressing onto his temple pulling his heartstrings a little too much. He wondered if he had you over again, would they soon deteriorate? Would they soon blow into the wind like the broken petals of a dead flower? He hoped so. But now, the only thing he could do was cling harder to your support and love until he was okay. Good thing you weren't leaving.
KEI — The "I'm Not Going To Bed Unless You Go To Bed With Me." trope:
"Oh my God, Y/n. Go to sleep," he grudges annoyingly, taking a deep breath before turning back down to his paper. "No." "And why not?" "Because you're not in here with me," you answer with an audible grin, a face he rolls his eyes at without looking for it. "I have work to do, I can't just go to bed," he defends, waving you off and shaking his head at his paper. " C'mon, Kei, I know you're stressed, and I also know that the paper you're working on is due next week and you're already halfway done." He sighs, letting his arm drop in irritation before turning his head to face you. Although his glare is threatening, it doesn't bother you as you lay comfortably in his sheets. "Please?" You pout, tucking your bottom lips and scraping up your best puppy-dog eye. His eyes roll once again, but his pencil drops, and his legs lift him off the ground. You smile to yourself when he forces the blankets open with his nimble fingers, scooting yourself back to make room for him. He crawls in, taking his glasses off and placing them on the nightstand behind him before he squints from the strain of the lack of moisture in his eyes. He rubs them, only a little bit until he feels your fingers brush against his shoulder. "What are you doing?" He asks, pausing his motions with his hand left in the air. "That's a nice shirt," you say distractedly, pinching the fabric and subtly rubbing the skin underneath. "I wear it almost every day," he points out, clueless of the motives for your actions. "So? It's nice." Your hand glides across the wrinkles in his shirt, purposely grazing his smooth skin. He scoffs before he lets his hand down on the pillow his head rests on, and he stops for a second. Were you really that pretty? Wow. Did he not notice that before? How your resting face lied against his pillow made his nerves run warm and how your fingers caused a tingling reaction on his skin? "Go to sleep now, yeah?" You drop your hand slowly before smiling, "sure." He wasn't exactly mad that your hand coincidentally dropped on his, or that your fingers found themselves sinking between his as you lay peacefully asleep next to him. He actually quite enjoyed the way your legs found their way in between his, and how your head suddenly found a resting place on his chest. He didn't mind it at all. Weird.
A/N: HI THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO MAKE OMG I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS PLS I MYSELF LOVE IT SO MUCH PLS ENJOY
HAJIME — The "You're Sleeping On My Bed So I Sleep On My Floor" trope:
You didn't mean to stay at his house this long, almost drifting away on his shoulder while the television screen blares some old cartoon and the feeling of his stiff body hesitating to lean into yours keeping you from completely losing consciousness. "M' tired, Haji, I'm gonna go home, now," you groan with a tired voice. "No, you're not," he says as if you said the stupidest thing he's ever heard. "You're too tired, you'd probably pass out in the middle of the road. Just stay here." The tone of his voice grew quiet, quite like he was nervous, or something. "Uh, are you sure? I don't want to impo—" "Just get on my bed, already," he mutters loudly in a firm voice. "oh, okay." When you saw him bring another futon, you grew confused. "Hajime?" "What?" "What are you doing?" "Making my bed?" "Why?" He grew annoyed with your questions, stopping his motions in irritation and looking at you. "You're sleeping on my bed what else am I supposed to do?" "Sleep...in your bed?" His eyes had widened, and his face looked hot— did you need to take his temperature? "What? No." "Just sleep in here with me. It's not that big a deal." He shakes his head, "no." "Oh my God, Hajime, get in here," you laugh while your hands flip the covers open for him. You watch him slide in carefully and scan the lumps in the bed so he doesn't touch you. He sighed once he settled in, watching you get comfortable yourself. His eyes accidentally traced the outline of your torso, wandering around your hips and your waist until he looked up to meet your pupils. You smiled, scooting yourself closer to his nerve-wracked body. "Goodnight, Haji," you whisper in his shoulder. It takes a second for him to respond as his breath hitched, "Goodnight," he whispers before making the ultimate decision to drape his arm across your waist. You couldn't wait until his legs allowed themselves to thread with yours.
ATSUMU — The "There's Only One Bed" trope:
The fact that you two were put together on this trip was ridiculous, let alone how the hotel only has one vacant room left. He was the last person you'd ever want to sleep in the room— building as. When he opened the door with the key card, that was the moment you regretted ever coming. There was only one bed. He groaned annoyingly, setting his bag next to the door and looking around the room. "Well, shit. What do we do, now, Sweetheart?" Your face contorts in disgust when your pet name leaves his lips, "just find somewhere else to sleep. Can't you go with Hinata or Bokuto? Sakusa?" He shakes his head as he continues to walk around, "they said they already had people with them, can't switch." "Fuck," you cursed, staring at the thing that caused your demise. "Relax, it'll be fine, we can just share." Your head bucked back in offense as your eyebrows furrow. "What? Absolutely not! I'll take the floor if you want it so damn badly." "Uh uh, yer not sleepin' on the floor, Angel." "Oh, yes I am." "Not an option." "You can't make me sleep on that bed." You regret saying that two hours later when you settle in the sheets next to him. "Give me your pillow, Atsumu." "What? Why?" He questions as he lays flat on his back. "Because to prevent from getting your germs all over me, I'm making a wall of pillows." "Ya can't be serious," he deadpans. Your face yelled at him that you were, your glare forcing his hand to slowly grip his pillow and pull it to you to let you drag it from him and stuff it between your two bodies. "Happy now, Darlin'?" "No," you say firmly. "Just go to bed, Atsumu. We have a long day tomorrow." "Fine, only because ma Angel wants me to." "Shut up," you grit. Hours have passed and you haven't slept a blink— your mind focused on the way his warm hands caress your stomach so lightly and pull your abdomen towards him. His breath lingers on your neck, and his legs intertwine with yours as he sleeps safe and sound. There seemed to be a tingly pool of butterflies in your stomach for some reason. There was no way you were enjoying this, was there?
RINTAROU — The "You Just Fell Asleep On Me And Now We're Cuddling" trope:
It was almost casual: how your body laid atop his on his bed so comfortable and warm— how your hot breaths stuck to his neck and your legs draped over his, almost wrapping around his waist as you lightly snored on him. He chuckled as he scrolled through his phone while his head rested on his pillow, his other arm laying on your back, and his fingers gently scratching the surface of the fabric you wear. He wasn't confused or startled, he wasn't nervous one bit. He liked having you sleep on him— it was a relaxing feeling, having your breaths match up and feeling your slow pulse wrap around his torso like it was supposed to be there. It was calming. He didn't know how you woke up, or why you were so frightened by having him under you like that. "Wh—what I'm so—" you frantically wave your hands and unweave your legs from his, sitting on the opposite side of the bed in awkwardness, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear—!" He was a bit confused now, after watching you run away. "It's okay, don't be sorry," he dismisses as if it was stupid to think that in the first place, "I liked it." "You— huh?" You had to trail back in your memories to see if you heard that correctly. "Yes. I liked it, now come back," he nonchalantly grips your wrist and drags your weight back onto his, caressing your hair with his nimble fingers and tilting his head to lay the tiniest kiss on your temple, basking in the heat you provide from your obvious mortification. It was only when he fell asleep with you, his phone falling from his fingers and his eyes finally drooping completely closed as his head leans on yours, when you could really feel it. Your pulses slowing together and your breaths caught in each other's skin and your chests rising and falling at a syncing pace. It was nice. You liked it, as well.
KENMA — The "You're Really Sad And This Is The Only Thing I Could Think Of" trope:
His breath quickened as he hid under his blanket for support, the sweat glossing his face and his trembling hands not finding a grip on reality. He sat in the corner of his room in the dark where he was most comfortable, his eyes wide as they try to catch the non-existent light underneath the thin fabric. He doesn't want to move, he doesn't want to make a single sound, but his shivering body and his whimpers of emotional pain wouldn't listen to him. He didn't even know what he was sad about, he was just sad. Afraid. Anxious? He didn't know. He didn't know why he heard the door creak open or why he heard footsteps increase in volume as they grew closer to his shakey ball. He couldn't figure out why the blanket that shielded him was currently peeling away from his hot skin, forcing the cold air to mix with the sweat that aligned his shape. "It's gonna be kay, Kenma, I got you," a voice whispers, pulling his arms and lifting him up off the ground. His legs seemed to work miraculously as they walked to the end of his bed, allowing a hand to lightly place him on the mattress, opening the sheets for him and letting his body seep into the sweet scent of his sheets. He didn't bother to look at who helped him— he knew who it was. He needed them right about now. It seemed as if they knew that, too. What a relief. "Let's go to sleep, alright? You might feel better after, okay?" And with that, he closes his eyes with ease, ignoring the stinging pain from how long he kept them open from before, and let his body lean into the figure behind him. They wrapped their arms around him, caging him in their protection and mixing their legs with his so he could feel a little extra warmth. He was appreciative of this. He was really grateful. Putting all the effort into his sentence, he mutters, "Thank you, Y/n." And with that, the figure smiles against his neck, applying their lips to his skin before replying, "Of course, Kenma. Now get some sleep."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
nsfw fanfiction of real people is weird but so is sfw fanfiction. the problem isnt just nsfw works but the entire idea of treating real people like fictional characters.
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