zo

You and Kei were best friends, as close as two people can be. Naturally, you were also fuck buddies.

You wish you could say it started innocently with a kiss or with a love confession. Truth is, it started when Karasuno lost to Aoba Johsai. You'd never seen him so frustrated before. That same week, you were ovulating, so of course, you were ready to jump the first man you saw.

After he lost that match, Tsukishima was at your doorstep within an hour. No words were exchanged. You were like animals in heat, fucking your frustration out on each other.

You both called it a one-time thing. It wasn't.

You've been friends with benefits ever since. Both of you tried your best to not let it get in the way of your friendship. You were discreet in the beginning, but by now, you've both gotten sloppy. Everyone around you has noticed and has been after you to just date already. You just shrug it off.

When this little rendezvous of yours started, Kei was known around Karasuno; a few girls liked him, but never pursued anything with him, as he was far too frightening.

But now, Tsukishima Kei is the most sought-after man in not just Miyagi, but most of Tokyo. He's even become more popular than Oikawa Tooru (which led to a very whiny and petty Oikawa).

Kei didn't pay the fangirls much heed. They would chase after him, message him, track him down, and even sneak into his training sessions.

He was polite at first when there weren't that many of them. Now, he's the most arrogant prick you've ever seen. He ignores his fans and mocks them when they hit on him. When Sugawara lectures him, he does the bare minimum, signing autographs, politely nodding to acknowledge them, and winking at them from time to time to keep them hooked.

You're usually in the stands during his matches, and yes, you've been to every single one, no matter what. Even when you're sick, exhausted, busy, or have an important exam the next day, you always show up for Kei. Before you realised it, Kei had become the most important person in your life, and even if he didn't voice it, you were clearly the most important person in his.

The day of the Shiratorizawa match, you were on the coach's bench for the fifth and final set. You went with Kei when he injured his finger, and you walked him back to the court during the final set. In the corridor back to the court, when it was just the two of you, you kissed his cheek and whispered, "I believe in you", as you walked him back.

You wouldn't want to take credit for it, but you're sure that little gesture made him focus and play the best he ever has.

The final point.

Karasuno wins. You jump and scream, Kei's eyes find yours across the court as the team drags him into a group hug. The stadium was the loudest you've ever heard it.

After the boys finally release Kei, he walks straight to you. You reach up to hug him, but he catches your wrists before you can. "I'm drenched in sweat, Angel." That was his nickname for you; he always thought of you as saint-like. Too nice, too polite, too welcoming to everyone, even if you didn't know them. It started off as one of the stupid things he teased you about, but it stuck.

"I don't care." You smile up at him, practically jumping him with the way you wrap your arms around his neck.

He hesitates for a moment, but one hand is on your back and the other holding your head to his chest.

You pull away for a second and smile up at him, "I'm so so proud of you, Kei."

He ruffles your hair and walks away to the changing rooms; you swear you see his ears go bright pink.

After 10 minutes, the boys all come out of the showers and changing rooms, and fans and cameras surround them. This match was heavily televised; you're pretty sure you saw someone recording you hugging Kei. Oh well.

You stay back, letting everyone have their moment as cameras and fans were swarming them. Kei was declared the MVP of the match; they even made him sign a camera lens for some montage.

You were so proud of him; all of his hard work paid off. You were so getting lucky tonight.

As happy as you were, you felt a burning at the back of your throat. Wow, there were a lot of girls around Kei. They brought him flowers, posters, and his favourite strawberry shortcake. Were you jealous...? No, that's not possible, you were just friends.

One girl tried to hug him, another tried holding his hand, another was trying to grad him by his t-shirt. Okay, yeah, you were jealous. But it wasn't your place to be jealous; you were just his friend. His really supportive friend. That's all. Plus, it's not like any of those girls ever stood a chance.

It's like he could hear you spiralling in your thoughts from across the room, his eyes met yours as he was absent-mindedly giving out autographs. He winks at you.

You're caught off guard and just blink back at him. He smiles to himself, but stops before the fangirls can get a picture of it. That smile was for you and you only.

After the press session and fan service, Kei finally makes his way to you.

"Quite the people's princess." You cross your arms over your chest and grin up at him.

He groans in response, putting his arm around your shoulder, dropping down some of his weight on you.

"Let's go home, please. I'm exhausted." He frowns at you.

You roll your eyes at him and start walking. You hear his teammates whistling behind you, to which he flips them off.

You get back to your dorm room, where he immediately plops face-first onto your bed. He always sleeps better on your bed than his own.

You put your things away and sit beside him. You start running your hands over his back; his muscles have gotten a lot more defined with all this extra training, and you're not complaining.

When your hands tangle in his hair, he brings his face to your lap, his hands wrapping around your waist like you're a pillow. He finally relaxes completely as you play with his hair and run your hands over his nape and shoulders.

"You must be so sore after today, baby."

"Mmm." He groans.

"Let me take care of you." You coo at him.

Those words wake him up, he lifts his head up and places a kiss on your clothed stomach.

"You were jealous." It's not a question the way he says it, but a fact.

"What? No!"

"Don't lie to me, Angel. I saw that look on your face, you were glaring daggers at all of them." He sounds amused now, always the asshole.

"Fine, maybe I was for a second, but it's not a big deal." You pout, which only makes his grin grow wider.

"You have nothing to be jealous about. I'm here with you, not one of those crazy, obsessed chicks." His hands hook at the waistband of your pants, slowly tugging them down.

"Shut up, Kei. I told you it's not a big deal!"

"I know you. You're still jealous, it's written all over your face." He unbuttons your pants and starts pulling them lower to expose your stomach and waist. He starts peppering soft kisses on your tummy, all while looking up at you with a grin.

You roll your eyes at him.

"Come on, Kei. Stop it. Let me take care of you." You insist.

"Nah, I'm going to prove to you that you have no reason to be jealous." He pulls down your pants all the way, and you kick them off.

"This needs to come off too." He tugs at the hem of your top.

You take off your top and throw it aside, and he unhooks your bra and keeps that aside too. Leaving you in just your panties.

"Now, let me take care of you, Angel."

He crawls down and brings your left foot to his mouth. He starts trailing kisses from your foot all the way up to your hips.

Your body shivers as he places gentle kisses all over you. He's usually so rough in bed, so the way he's handling you so delicately now twists knots in your stomach.

On top of that, his eyes never leave yours, not for one second.

He does the same thing on the right side, starting from your foot til your hip. Making sure to kiss every part of you.

"You are the one I come to when I'm tired, when I'm full of energy, when I need to talk to someone, and even when I just need silence." He says between kisses, he's now on your stomach and hips.

"Kei..."

"Don't ever doubt the importance you have in my life. It doesn't matter how many girls are after me; I will always choose you."

You grab his hair and try to bring his face up to yours, "Kei, please, I need you."

He holds your wrists down by your side.

"Tsk. Be patient, Angel. Stay still and let me show you just how much you mean to me." He continues kissing.

When his mouth reaches your ribs, your back arches slightly against his mouth. You've always been extra sensitive in that particular spot for some reason, and he knows it.

He takes his time kissing your chest and ribs, tantalisingly slow.

He takes your hands and starts kissing your fingers, one by one. Then, your hand, up your forearm, to your shoulders, then your collarbone.

He kisses your jaw, then your ears, then your cheeks, your temple, your eyelids, your nose.

Then your lips.

He takes his time kissing you, his tongue taking yours gently. He's deliberate in the way he kisses you now.

"Kei..." You moan against his mouth.

"You're the only one for me." He pulls back for a second, his hand trailing down your stomach to your panties, and he gently begins rubbing circles on your clit.

You bite down on your lower lip, bringing your hips up, needing more friction. He puts the weight of his hips down against yours, holding you down.

"Patience, Angel. You'll get what you need."

"Kei, please..." You whine.

He can't deny you of anything when you beg him for it so sweetly.

He thrusts one finger in, then the second, curving them inward, earning a gasp from you.

"Fucking hell, you're soaked."

You bite back a noise as he says that.

"How long you been like this?" he begins thrusting his fingers in a practised motion, pretty slowly too.

"Since I saw you walk on court."

"Awh you poor little thing. Had to wait for five whole sets, sitting there all needy and wet for me..." Even now, Tsukishima Kei is an arrogant prick, but, by all means, he's your arrogant prick.

Your breathing quickens at his taunts and his fingers speeding up inside you. You throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity to start nibbling at it, leaving hickeys down your neck.

He trails kisses down til your breast. He flicks his tongue over the nub of your left breast, slowly taking it in his mouth, kissing and sucking.

Moans spill out of you.

"Kei- it's all too much-" you babble between groans and moans, arching your back.

"Good." He moves on to the left breast, repeating the same action.

Flicking, licking, sucking.

Your hips buckle, and you clench around his fingers. He sucks harder on your nipples.

"Kei..." You moan loudly, hands under his t-shirt, grabbing onto him, nails digging into his back, leaving scratches all over him.

"Come for me, Angel. All over my fingers." His voice is husky and low.

He's clearly high on your movements. Just watching you arching and moaning just the right way, all because of him, all for him.

You grab onto him, and he brings his face to yours, kissing the corners of your mouth as you gasp for air.

You come all over his fingers, legs trembling, hibs buckled, back arched.

A sight like this needs to be savoured. He takes in your form, memorising the way your chest rises and falls, the noises you make, the way your eyes roll back as you gush all over him.

Your orgasm lasts a while, it heightens til' you feel the air leave your lungs.

Kei holds you steady and kisses you gently as you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

When you finally come down from the high, Kei presses a gentle kiss to your temple and cleans you up, bringing you a set of pyjamas, helping you dress.

He comes back to bed, and it dips under his weight.

He pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head, rubbing circles on your back gently.

"Well, that worked. I'm not jealous anymore." You chuckle softly.

He smiles into your hair.

He cups your face and makes you look up at him, placing a gentle but motivated kiss on your lips.

You were a second-year law student in Professor Higuruma's Criminal Defence class. Undoubtedly, he was an incredible professor.

Everything was great, until you decided it was a good idea to volunteer to be a student intern and help out your professor over the summer. You figured you'd be helping with presentations for class and maybe grade a few papers.

In no way did anyone warn you that you had signed up to be his personal assistant.

It started small. He asked you to bring coffee for him in the mornings, you were happy to do something simple, because he let you use his card and buy yourself coffee too.

However, it quickly spiralled from there.

It's only been 3 weeks of interning, and you're exhausted.

Your mornings start at 4 am, where you wake up early to pick up his suit for the day from the dry cleaners, grab a coffee and breakfast and drop it off to his house. From there, you drive him to work whilst he reviews case files in the passenger seat. Then you have to get his schedule for the day, proofread case files and settlements. Catalogue evidence for him. Make presentations for his lectures, which he constantly nitpicks and micromanages, making you wonder why he doesn't just do them himself. Then you grade a few papers. You barely have time for a lunch break during all of that because you also have to grab lunch for him. Just when you think you can finally go home, he makes you go grocery shopping with him. Some days, he makes you go to court with him as well. By the time you get home, it's already so late, and you're exhausted. During dinner, you study your lecture notes and study for your exams taking place immediately after summer break.

All of this exhaustion makes you wonder how Professor Higuruma handles all of this every day. Teaching, owning his own law firm, watching over and managing all cases the lawyers in his firm handle, and being a normal human being.

Well, he clearly doesn't; his perpetual eye bags and exhausted demeanour are enough of a sign of that. The frustration he has pent up by now must be ridiculous.

You keep telling yourself to be empathetic toward him, to be understanding and patient. You try to suck it up and be a good student and intern, but it's like his demands get more and more ridiculous day by day. You've even considered blocking his number due to the amount of times he calls and texts you throughout the day with some new demand.

If you're being honest, empathy isn't the only reason you've sucked it up this long. You have a bit of a crush on your professor.

It's awful and unethical, and you know he'd have you on trial and give you the death penalty for how ridiculously nasty your daydreams of him have been.

You seem to have hidden it pretty well so far, at least that's what you think. But when your professor mentioned that he needed a summer intern, you couldn't even think before you blurted out that you'd do it.

You decided to have some fun with it, because who is it hurting?

You had a game going with yourself; you wanted to see if you could catch Professor Higuruma off guard, catch him slipping up.

The summer internship was the perfect time. It was just the two of you for the most part; all the other professors kept to their own quarters.

You started by wearing skirts to the internship. Outfit choices becoming less and less formal day by day. Skirts getting shorter, and tops getting thinner and more low-cut.

You caught him looking a few times, but that wasn't satisfying enough for you.

You decided to step it up a notch– bending, was the solution you thought of.

You would purposely lean over his desk to reach for some papers or stationery, placing your cleavage directly in his line of sight, sometimes mere inches from his face.

Other times, you would drop objects and bend down to pick them up, skirt riding up to reveal lacy pairs of underwear to him.

Sure, it was fun messing with him, even though you were pretty sure he was too in love with his work to even notice any of the things you were doing.

You put up with his torture for 3 whole weeks. By the time the 4th week rolled around, you realised you couldn't possibly keep going like this for another month.

The exhaustion was too much; you were barely sleeping, your feet were always hurting, and studying the course material was a struggle.

By the end of the fourth week, you finally mustered up the courage to confront your professor.

It was the 7th day of the fourth week, around 7 pm, the time when you'd usually wind up and get ready to head back.

You consider knocking on his door, but decide against it.

You barge in, and the door bangs.

Higuruma wasn't paying attention to your tantrum in the slightest; he wasn't startled at all, he just continued writing something on a paper.

"Professor Higuruma." Your voice is heavy and laced with anger and exhaustion.

"Hm? 10 more minutes, then we can leave." He waves one hand to dismiss you.

You scoff

"I need to talk to you." You glare at him.

He finally looks up from his papers, and he notes your expression. Your slumped shoulders and interlaced fingers, cracking your knuckles.

You were nervous. He could tell.

"Sit. Talk." He commands

You huff, dismissing him

"No, thank you"

"I said sit." His voice is firm, with a warning tone.

You bite the inside of your cheek and sit across from him, the chair at the other side of the desk.

"Talk." His voice is stern. He leans back on his chair; even when sitting, it feels like he's looking down on you somehow.

"I can't take this anymore, Professor." Your voice sounds small, too small.

You had an entire speech prepared in your head, yet that's all you can manage to say.

The way he's maintaining eye contact so intensely does nothing to ease your nerves; his expression is far too even compared to yours.

"Can't take what exactly?"

"This whole interning thing, it's getting ridiculous, Professor! It's all way too much, it's like I'm working a full-time nannying job but with no pay or perks! This whole thing feels like some sort of punishment!" You lash out at the man sitting across the table from you.

You could almost swear you saw a faint smirk, but his face returned to its resting, exhausted and bored expression as you blinked.

You expect him to yell, to lecture, to say something, anything! The last thing you expected was for Professor Higuruma to burst out laughing at your outburst...

You sit there confused, rubbing your eyes to make sure you're not hallucinating this.

You just blink at him, unable to process the sight before you.

It's rare enough to see Professor Higuruma laughing, but for him to be laughing at such a serious matter...

After a minute, he regains his composure, "Took you long enough", is all he says

Your face contorts, "What..."

Now he smiles, like actually smiles, teeth and gums on display and all.

"Sweet naive child, did you really think all of this was accidental? I would never put so much on one person, especially not an intern. Were you too busy trying to seduce me that you didn't even realise that simple fact?" He's smiling, but his voice shows no pleasantries. This is the most serious you've ever heard him be.

"I-what...", shit, he was onto you.

"You heard me. You said this felt like a punishment; that's because it was one. I don't take kindly to trying to be seduced by a student, my student at that."

You feel your voice scratching at your throat, and you feel dizzy.

"That's not- I wasn't trying to-"

"Oh, but weren't you? I'm a lawyer, did you really think I wouldn't catch on?" His expression tenses now.

"Professor, I swear I wasn't trying to seduce you!" You try to think of something, anything, to get you out of this.

Your gaze flickers over to the gavel on his desk for a brief moment.

"Hm." He runs a hand through his hair.

"Professor, it was just a misunderstanding... Please..."

"Get up", He orders.

Slightly confused, you still get up.

"Lock the door and come back here."

You hesitate

"What?"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

With that, you lock the door to his office and stand in front of his desk again.

"Initial Verdict is in. You're lying." He says plainly.

"I- how can I prove my innocence to you, professor?"

He grabs the gavel off his desk and runs his finger over it, playing with it in his hand. He seems to be deep in thought now.

"I can't trust you to tell the truth when you are in possession of all your faculties." He says it like he's explaining a fact to the jury.

"I will simply have to break you down til' you are vulnerable enough to finally be honest."

You clench your thighs, breath hitching.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Silence." He orders, clearly still contemplating.

He stands up and walks over to the side of the desk you're on. He sits on the desk in front of you. He's comfortably seated on the desk, far back enough, legs spread, gavel still in hand.

You don't move, too scared to even feel your fingers.

"Over my lap, now." He orders, his voice rough yet deliberate.

You hesitate for a second before climbing over his lap.

He drags his hand down your spine, settling on your lower back.

The miniskirt you're wearing rides up, you reach a hand down to pull it down, but he catches your wrist roughly before you can.

"Tsk. You've spent this whole month trying to get me to look at you, bending over so I can see those pretty panties and that needy ass, and now that I'm looking, you try to hide? You need more punishment than I thought."

Your breathing quickens.

"What are you going to do to me? Your voice is low and hesitant.

"Why, isn't it obvious, I'm going to teach you a lesson. This one doesn't have any lecture notes, but it's sure to stay imprinted on you for a while." His voice a threat.

He pulls out a coin.

"Pick heads or tails. If it's tails, your spanking will be done with the handle of the gavel, and if it's heads, it'll be the other end."

The handle end would hurt a lot less. "Tails."

"Smart choice, let's see if luck is on your side, darling."

He flips the coin, and it lands on your back.

"Heads. Luck isn't on your side, but it is on mine." His hand yanks up your skirt, bringing it up to your hips.

"Shit", You mutter.

"Mind your language. That's an extra spanking for you."

You purse your lips, trying to prepare yourself.

"Four smacks, one for each week you've tried to seduce me. Plus one extra for just now. This is going to hurt.. a lot."

"Please..." You plead as a last resort to get out of this.

Higuruma rolls his eyes. He takes off his tie and ties it around your mouth, using it as a makeshift gag.

"There, this oughta shut you up."

He then stretches out the skin on your left cheek. The hit will be a lot more effective when the skin is stretched out like this.

One. Right cheek.

Your hands grip his thigh, you scream against the gag. A blinding pain like one you've never felt before.

He uses the same technique on the left cheek. Two.

"Already starting to bruise, must hurt a lot." He states like its an observation, no sympathy in his voice.

With that, Three and Four, back to back on each cheek.

You go slightly limp over his lamp, the pain too much to endure.

He doesn't let you regain composure. Five, on your left cheek.

"Hm, now it's uneven."

Another harsh one on your right cheek. Six.

"There, now it's even on both sides."

Tears are rolling down your face now. He begins massaging the already bruised skin of your ass.

You lift your head to look back at him with pleading eyes.

"Not good enough." He states simply.

He takes the tie gag, loosening it and bringing it up to your eyes, and he tightens it again. The tie now acts as a blindfold.

"Hiromi..Please.."

His hand comes down sharply at the centre of your butt in a harsh smack.

"You don't have permission to use my name."

"Sorry, Sir." Your voice is coated with defeat, which only excites him further.

"Open." He commands, and your jaw immediately widens.

"Suck." He makes you suck on the handle of the gavel. You lick and suck it for a few minutes, lubricating it. His other hand on your ass, hooks into the waistband of your panties and pulls them down to your knees as you're still over his lap.

He brings the lubricated gavel to your entrance as you're bent over his lap.

"You're going to take it. Keep taking what I give you, and thank me afterwards. Understood?"

Your breath hitches, "Yes, Sir."

He rams the handle of the gavel into you. Making you quickly adjust around it. You gasp, the air leaving your lungs as it first enters you.

"Professor!" You groan as he pushes the handle further into you. He begins thrusting it slowly, pace still slow, allowing you to adjust.

When he feels you tense, he smacks your ass.

"Take it." He orders.

Making you ease up and arch a bit, making it easier for him to push into you.

Almost the entire handle of the gavel is inside you now. He thrusts it slowly; when you've finally adjusted to it, he speeds up.

Calculated and deliberate thrusts are now becoming sloppy and rushed.

He's clearly enjoying punishing you.

“I am a patient and understanding man; however, when a pathetic little slut like yourself tries to feign innocence, I see it as my job to deliver justice.” He lectures

"Sir-Professor-Please-It hurts!" Your voice is broken, tears streaking your face.

"Shut that mouth before I stuff it."

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, stifling your moans and yelps.

He grins at your predicament.

He continues, “So needy, always running after me, begging for attention. Dirty little girl, wants her Professor to teach her a different kind of lesson, hm?” 

“Y-Yes, S-Sir” It’s clearly a struggle for you to speak, but you still manage to let out.

After a few more thrusts, your hips buckle. He thrusts into you deeper with the handle of his gavel. You moan, body shuddering as your orgasm ripples through you.

“Even after I’ve ruined you, you’ll still be as pathetic and desperate for me. Running after me in your tiny outfits, wanting me to fill you up again.” Even at a time like this, he’s lecturing you. You can barely make out what he’s saying, as your orgasm floods you, making it impossible to make sense of anything else.

It takes a few minutes for you to come down from your high.

When you finally do, he pulls the gavel out of you and into your mouth again, making you clean off all your wetness.

“Filthy little slut.” He mutters under his breath.

"Thank you, Sir." At least you're polite enough to remember your manners and thank him.

He takes the blindfold off and keeps it aside.

He pulls your panties off your legs and pockets them.

He loves you off him so that you're standing again, you stumble for a second before he steadies you.

"Now, tell me truthfully, was your objective to seduce me?"

He was right, you're far too vulnerable and shaken to put any effort into lying now.

"Yes, Sir..."

He nods and stands up.

His hand is on your lower back, guiding you to the door as he unlocks it.

"You're fired."

"I-" You try.

"See you after the summer, study hard, the exam will be made extra challenging, just for you." He cuts you off with a devilish grin.

He opens the door for you.

"Oh. and, careful not to bend over." He reminds as he took your panties from you, leaving you completely bare under a miniskirt... shit.

He gives your ass one final smack before sending you on your way, locking the door immediately after you're out of sight.

bsf!kei who sprawls out all over the couch, giving you no choice but to lean on him. He says it's because he's a giant with long legs, but that doesn't explain why he doesn't move over to the other 3 feet of empty space on the couch.

bsf!kei who is usually so aware of other's invading his personal space bubble, doesn't ever realize how he always seems to be invading yours.

bsf!kei who chastises you for falling sick, but does your homework for you when you cant, without ever mentioning it.

bsf!kei who will never let you see the entire album in his phone of candid pictures of you, and screenshots of all the corny and romantic things you've said.

bsf!kei who is usually so well put together, only let's himself get wasted around you, because he trusts you enough to take care of him.

bsf!kei who insists you don't come for his practices and matches, will have an eye on the bleachers to see if you showed up anyway the entire time.

bsf!kei who always dumps his belonging with you when he has to practice or play any sports, he'll only ever trust you with his things.

bsf!kei who always conveniently has enough snacks in his bag for just two people, and they just so happen to be your favourite.

bsf!kei who rolls his eyes at the dinosaur keychain you buy for him, but his bag will always have that keychain on it without fail.

bsf!kei who owns airpods, but will only ever bring wired earphones when he knows you'll be there, just so you can sit close and listen to music together.

bsf!kei who falls asleep on your shoulder more times than he'd ever admit to anyone. Calls it an accident but will continue to snuggle up against you when hes tired.

bsf!kei who becomes a whining sensitive baby when he has an injury, and only allows you to help with with the wounds.

You fight against his grip, trying to get yourself free. Eventually, he lets you go, and you hurry away from him into the living room.

"This whole time... It's been you stalking me..." Your voice cracks.

"How could you do that to me? How could you let me confide in you, when it's been you tormenting me all along!"

He takes a step closer, cupping your face with one hand, the other caressing your hair.

"You're just a naive little girl, you can't even admit to yourself how much you were enjoying it." his voice is low, as his thumb brushes your lip, you instinctively part your lips.

"Stop it, that's not true." Your breath hitches.

"Oh yeah? Then why did you fuck yourself so good with that dildo I gave you?" his other hand goes down to your waist, squeezing your hip.

Your face flushes, breath hitching.

"Because you said 'please'," you retort weakly, ashamed.

He laughs, "So that's all it takes, huh? Liar."

"No, the truth is, you liked feeling scared, feeling wanted in such a twisted way, and some part of you kept running to your older neighbour across the street for protection. I've seen the way you undress me with your eyes, don't try to deny it, bella."

His hand grips your chin, making you look up at him as he caresses your jaw.

"Stop it, Theo." Your voice is low.

His hand on your waist smacks you sharply on your butt.

"I didn't give you permission to use my name, it's Sir to you." he grits

You gasp as he smacks you, and you scoff at his correction, which earns you another sharp smack.

"Say it."

"Yes, sir." You mumble.

Another sharp smack.

"Louder. Say it like you mean it."

"Yes, Sir." You raise your voice, looking up at him directly this time.

"Brava." He caresses the area where he spanked you.

You exhale slowly.

"Alright, fine, maybe it did turn me on a bit. But that doesn't make it okay... I trusted you." he grins at your confession.

"Lighten up, principessa. You only trusted me because you wanted the older hot guy across the street to coddle you and maybe fuck the shit out of you. Am I wrong?"

You have to swallow your pride before admitting the truth. "No, you're right."

"See, that wasn't so hard to admit now, was it?" His thumb caresses your bottom lip again.

"No, Sir." You've practically admitted defeat at this point.

"Tell me, when you were using that dildo, what were you thinking about?"

You bite down on your lower lip, "You, Sir."

You can practically see the victory on his face.

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he leans down, grabs you by the nape of your neck and kisses you.

It's hungry, aggressive, like he's forcing himself into you, and you let him. Your hands wrap around his shoulders, one hand finding its way to his hair, pulling him lower.

You try to pull away for air, but he doesn't let you; he continues kissing you. The hand on your ass finds its way down your panties and to your core.

With no warning, he plunges his fingers into you, he mercilessly thrusts in and out a few times, making you gasp and moan against his mouth.

Suddenly, he stops everything, he takes his hands off you and steps away from you, leaving you feeling empty. You just gape at him

"Well, it's getting late, I should get going, goodnight." He starts walking away.

You rush after him and grab his hand.

"What the fuck?" You look up at him so needy and helpless.

"Weren't you the one who told me to get out?" he wraps his arms over his chest and grins.

"Oh, please, don't act coy now! Finish what you started!" You're practically begging him for it now.

"Mmm, don't think so. You've been quite bratty; you don't deserve it."

You run your hands through your hair, frustrated.

"Seriously? What's it gonna take?"

"Beg."

"I-what?" you stutter

"You heard me, Amore. If you really want it that bad, get on your knees and beg for it like a good girl, hm?" His eyes are practically glowing at the thought.

You scoff, and he shrugs and heads for the door.

"No, wait!"

You sigh and get on your knees in the middle of your living room, hands on your knees, on the floor. Looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He grins at the sight and walks towards your kneeling form, towering over you. He tilts your chin up with his fingers.

"Yes, tesoro?"

With a deep breath, you let out, "Please?"

"Please, what?" his voice is rough

"Please, use me and fuck me, Sir?" You plead with not just your words but with your wide eyes looking up at him.

"Aren't I too old for you, bambina?"

"Maybe, but that's what I like."

"Fuck, such a pathetic and nasty little thing you are." With that, he puts two fingers in your mouth.

"Suck."

You nod and begin sucking and licking his fingers, deep throating them. You can taste some of the slickness on his fingers from when he thrust in you a few minutes ago.

"Atta girl", he fists your hair and brings you up so you're standing. He comes down and kisses you again, this time it's slower, more deliberate, it's calculated, in the way you'd expect a surgeon to kiss.

With your arms around his neck, he lifts you, making you wrap your legs around his waist, he carries you with one hand, you begin to trail kisses down from his jawline til his collar, leaving a few hickeys in your wake.

His breath hitches as you leave hickeys down his neck, hand gripping you tighter.

He carries you into your bedroom and throws you onto your bed. He stands at the edge.

"Crawl to me." He commands.

You're all too eager to get on all fours and crawl on your bed to the edge where he is. You kneel when you reach him.

"Arms up."

You lift your arms up, and he pulls your top off, and takes off your bra with ease, tossing them both aside to the floor.

"Lay back"

He pulls off your sweatpants and panties and throws them to the floor as well.

You suddenly feel really exposed like this.

"Cazzo." he mutters under his breath at your naked form.

"You want to take off my clothes for me, tesoro?" He teases.

You nod eagerly, which earns you a small chuckle.

You stand up and undo his tie, placing it on the bed, you unbotton his shirt and keep that aside too. You take a moment to take in his sculpted chest. Appreciating his well-built form.

Then you sit back down and unbuckle his belt, keeping that aside. Next, the trousers.

You hesitate at the waistband of his boxers.

"Don't act all shy and innocent now, Troia."

With that, you pull off his boxers and keep them aside too. He's already so hard and dripping in pre-cum. He's so big, covered in veins, the sight makes you clench your thighs together.

"Wow, the dildo was really accurate."

He laughs.

"Have you ever been tied up, gagged, or blindfolded before?" he asks, caressing your jaw.

"None of the above."

"Well then, it's your lucky day, you're going to get to experience all three at once today." His smile does nothing to ease your nerves at that sentence.

"Cuffs first, hand me my belt."

You give it to him, and hold out your hands for him; he makes a restraint with his belt, putting your hands through the loops, and tightening it.

"Is it too tight for you, bambina?"

"No, Sir, it's okay."

He pats your head.

"Open wide, and if it gets too much for you... Then that's too bad, you're going to take it." If there was any humour behind that sentence, you couldn't sense it; he was very serious about not tapping out.

He teases the entrance of your mouth with his tip, leaving precum all over your lips. Then, he enters your mouth, slowly, carefully. Not what you expected.

He lets you adjust, taking him in little by little. You lick and suck and try to fit him in your mouth. When you gag a little, he slows down, letting you adjust. Eventually, he bottoms out in your mouth, not thrusting, just there, stuffing your mouth.

All of a sudden, he pulls out. Saliva strings out of your mouth, and you pant softly.

Before you can ask him anything, he grabs his tie from the pile of clothes and ties it around your head, covering your eyes. Your breath quickens a bit; now you're completely at his mercy.

Before you can say anything, he quickly thrusts himself in your mouth, all the way. No letting you adjust this time, no patience. He holds your head in place. Wildly thrusting in and out. You can feel him all the way in the back of your throat.

Tears stream out of your eyes, even through the makeshift blindfold. That doesn't stop him; if anything it makes him go faster.

He mutters a string of nicknames in italian and a few derogatory phrases that you can't quite make sense of at the moment.

After a few more thrusts, you can feel him tense up; he's close.

"Swallow. Not a drop to be wasted." He commands sternly.

A second later, with one final thrust, he releases in your mouth, already in your throat, the white-hot liquid drips down your throat. You swallow all of it. After he's finally done, he pulls out of your mouth.

Leaving you heaving and gasping for air, your whole body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, your lips swollen and glossy. Your face is tear-streaked.

He pants a bit, patting your head and massaging your neck softly.

"Belissima. You did such a lovely job."

You nod, too fucked out to say anything.

"So tired already? We still have a long way to go, Amore. Catch your breath for a second, and then I'll show you what tired really is."

He steps away for a second to grab something.

He resumes his position, standing over you, your panties that had been discarded earlier in his hand. He stuffs them in your mouth as a gag.

"Wow, you truly are a vision." You hear a click, probably another Polaroid keepsake.

After a beat, he comes back to you, he roughly pushes you against the bed, your back flat against the mattress, as your legs dangle over the edge.

He kneels, bringing your legs over his shoulders, holding them in place, he trails kisses up your thighs til he reaches your sensitive core.

"Not a sound. Wouldn't be considerate of the neighbours if you were loud, would it?"

Your breath hastens; he's barely even done anything to you, and it's already too much. Being blindfolded, gagged, and restrained, all at once. It's terrifying, but gods, does it thrill you.

He uses both hands to spread you open, making your thighs clench against his head. His tongue dives in with no warning.

If there's one thing Theodore Nott likes, it's catching you off guard, ruining you with no warning or prerequisite.

He begins licking, sucking, and even gnawing at your sensitive clit, his fingers join in.

Your back arches against the bed, thighs clenching against his head, and hands straining against the restraints.

He brings one hand up to hold your stomach, steadying you.

He continues eating you out until you feel a climax building; he can tell you're close by the way your body trembles and tenses.

Just as you feel yourself on the edge, he stops, pulling his hand and mouth out of you, denying you your orgasm.

You can feel your body go numb and tremble from the denial. You can't even voice your opinion since you're gagged.

He lets out a low chuckle, "What? You thought you deserved to cum? Nah, not yet. The first time I make you cum, it'll be on my Cock, Carino."

Your chest rises and falls.

He then pushes you up the bed, resting your head on the pillow gently. For how rough he is sexually, he can surely be delicate when it comes to everything else.

He takes your restrained hands and places them above your head.

"Keep those there, if you dont, then you're not going to be cumming even once the whole night."

You nod.

He climbs over your stomach and sits, not putting all his weight on you. He grabs both of your breasts and squeezes them together.

He grabs his cock with the other hand and starts fucking your tits. Yes, you heard me.

He begins fucking your tits, squeezing them together tight, his cocks thrusts through them, his tip hitting your chin with each thrust.

You can feel all the sensations at a heightened level now that he's deprived you of other sensations and restrained you.

You try summoning all your willpower to hold your arms above your head like he commanded.

He fucks your tits, his pace is punishing, for a bit he goes really fast, then he slows down, this goes on for a while.

When he finally cums again, he pulls back, cumming in little spurts all over your body, on your chest, on your face, on your stomach. Everywhere. You feel cold in the areas where he left his cum on you.

He pats your thigh in a praising manner after he's cum for a second time that night.

He plants a kiss on your forehead.

You feel him climb down.

You flinch as you feel his tip glide over your entrance. He brings your legs up, putting them over his shoulders.

Again, since he's Theodore Nott, he doesn't warn you or enter gently; he thrusts in aggressively, once and roughly. He bottoms out in his first thrust. Making you scream a blood-curdling noise against the panty gag.

He slaps you across the face, "Didn't I tell you already, not a sound."

You groan softly and nod hurriedly.

He begins slamming in and out of you. He doesn't care how much you cry or whine; he keeps going at this hurried pace until he hits your cervix.

He pushes your legs up against your head, putting you in a mating press.

It only takes a few thrusts for both of you to reach the edge.

"Cum with me, Bambina." With that, you come undone.

Your orgasm washes over you. As it is, you're at a great loss of senses, but now it feels as though you're in a new dimension. Traversing planes with the euphoria your orgasm brings you.

He comes at the same time as you. He doesn't pull out, he leaves all his spill in you, filling you up with warmth.

You can feel his body trembling, his breath hot against your collarbone. He leaves a kiss against your collar.

He pulls out once he's emptied out inside your tummy.

He takes off your blindfold and throws it aside; your vision comes back to you after a few moments. He then takes off the belt restraint from your hands.

Finally, he takes the gag out and throws it aside.

He leans down, cupping your face gently and kissing you slowly, deeply, passionately, and with appreciation.

He pulls back, "You did so good, tesoro".

Theo places a slow kiss on your forehead.

"That was... incredible" Your breath comes out ragged.

"Yeah, it really was. All worn out now, Bambina?" He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Almost... I mean, I could go for one more round..?" You suggest teasing and, hesitantly, wrapping your finally free hands around his neck.

He pinches your hip, making you yelp.

"Oh yeah? What a desperate little girl, still sooo needy for me." He draws out his words teasingly.

"Yes, I am, Sir. Please, Sir, one more round?" You beg like the good girl he's trained you to be.

How could he say no to such a polite request?

Before you even realise what's going on, he flips you onto your stomach, lifting your ass up and grinding it against his hips, making you whine.

"Beg for it. Again." He growls.

You grip the pillow, tilting your head back to look at him, kneeling on the bed, with your ass up against his hips.

"P-Please Sir... Please, I need you S-Sir"

Your whining and pleading voice is enough to get him to thrust into you from the back. He's a bit gentler this time, taking it a bit slower as he enters you.

He begins thrusting slowly, still not all the way in.

"S-Sir!" You groan against the pillow.

"Such a tense little girl, cazzo!" he slaps your ass, getting you to loosen up a bit.

When you finally ease up, he's able to bottom out. Giving you backshots, he isn't as aggressive as before, as he knows you're tired and doesn't want to hurt you. But he is still ruthless in the way he fucks you.

"P-Please!" You cry out. You don't even know what you're begging for anymore, you just know it's all too much.

One hand snaked around your waist, holding you up, the other fists your hair, making you look back at him.

You see him with a cigarette in his mouth, you were too cock drunk to even notice him light it up, but fuck, that's the hottest thing you've ever seen.

The student debt was starting to pile up quite a bit, but you didn't let anyone else find out about it.

August was an awful time of year, when the weather can't decide if it wants to be warm or chilly, when the people are always in a rush everywhere they go, and neighbourhoods are loud again now that vacations are almost over.

This would be a fresh start, you thought.

You were planning on working wherever you could and just experiencing the young adult life you've always wanted, no stress and no strings.

After that planned year of living and working odd jobs, you wanted to pay off your debts and get your master's degree in Law. You were a brilliant law student, book smart.

However, you were ridiculously naive.

You were liking the neighbourhood so far, it was located in an ideal area, close to most public amenities, but far enough away that it was peaceful. The neighbours seemed decent enough, though they only ever stuck to pleasant small talk and simple nods when they saw you.

One neighbour in particular caught your attention: Mr Theodore Nott. He lived in the house across the street. He seemed polite, nodding when he saw you and ignoring you otherwise. One time, he helped you with your garage door as it wouldn't close properly; that was about it.

Though you didn't speak much, something about the look in his earthy green eyes caught your attention.

It was clear that he was quite a lot older than you, but something about him made your stomach knot.

A week after you settled in the new house, you decided to bake cookies and pass them out to your neighbours, maybe it would leave a good impression?

Once you reach Mr Notts' house, you find yourself determined to learn more about him... anything to silence that curiosity that's been clawing at you.

With two quick knocks at the door, you hear footsteps shuffling inside.

"Yes?" he looks down at you as his wide frame fills the door, his voice is polite yet hurried.

"Um, hi! Mr Nott, I've been handing out homemade cookies to everyone in the neighbourhood. I brought some for you..." Your voice trails off when you look up at him, a slight grin plastered on his face makes you loose your train of thought.

"Oh? How very sweet of you." The bass in his voice sends shivers down your spine, he takes a step back and gestures for you to enter his home.

You hesitate a moment.

"Come in for a cup of tea." It sounds more like an order than a request, with your curiosity threatening to burst out of you, you enter his house with the box of cookies.

His house is like something out of a magazine, walls painted black, dark green and black furniture everywhere. It looks quite intimidating, yet beautiful.

"Nice place", you mumble.

He looms over you and lets out a soft chuckle. He takes the box of cookies from you and places them on the kitchen island.

"Can i bring you a cup of tea?", he offers. You nod.

He gestures for you to sit on the couch as he heads to the kitchen and brings over two cups of tea. He sits on the chair across from you, and you can't help but take in his big, muscular form as he manspreads.

It looks as though he just got home from work, black trousers and a white button-down with the top two buttons undone, and his tie hanging loosely and low.

"So, Mr Nott, what do you do for work?"

"I'm a surgeon", he responds plainly.

That is not the answer you were expecting, although it does make sense, he does have the calculated and structured demeanor of a surgeon.

"Wow, that's quite an impressive job"

"What about you? What's a young girl like yourself doing all the way out here alone?" It was a normal question, but the way he phrased it and the tone of his voice made you tense.

"I-uhm, well, I'm a law student, I just finished my bachelor's degree, I moved out here so I could finally live, like really live, I'll work a few odd jobs for a while. Then I'll go back to get my master's degree" Your voice drips with enthusiasm.

He thinks you're greatly naive for thinking that way, but he says nothing.

"I see, I hope you find what you're looking for", he smiles.

After a little small talk, you finish your tea and head out. He palms your lower back as he sees you out, sending spikes through you.

A month passes, you spend your days working as a waitress, making friends, going to the beach, and attending all sorts of activities you can find. You finally feel like you've found your rhythm.

One night, you come home exhausted. You throw your things on the couch, get undressed and hop in the shower.

When you're finally out, you dry yourself off and stretch by your bedroom window, all of a sudden, you get a strange gut-twisting feeling.

I'm being watched, you think.

You shut your curtains and put on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, you quickly rush outside to check your backyard to see if anyone is lurking... but nothing.

You brush it off as a symptom of your exhaustion and have your dinner.

As you wash your dishes, you hear a faint rustling at the front door, and you see a small white envelope.

When you look out the peephole, there's no one there.

Carefully, you open the envelope, and you see a printed picture of you... naked, right out of the shower, from just 20 minutes ago. It's taken from somewhere outside of your window.

The picture is coated in a white sticky substance, which you can only assume is semen. There's something written on the backside of the picture... "bellissima".

Your stomach twists. Bile rising in your throat, you quickly rush to the restroom and throw up in the toilet. You rip the picture and envelope and flush it down the drain.

A week passes since the incident, and it's been quiet, no notes, no paranoia. Maybe it was a one-time thing. You decide it's easier to pretend it never happened.

However, you've become overly cautious. No more changing in front of windows, locking all doors, and constantly watching your back.

A few nights later, when you finally begin to feel safe again. You come home to find a black rectangular box with a green ribbon, and another white envelope on your bed. You instantly feel dizzy.

There's a handwritten note inside: "I'm still watching, so put on a show for me, tesoro mio"

You untie the ribbon and open the box, and you see a dark green dildo inside.

This is some sort of sick joke, you think.

You throw everything on the floor and sit on your bed with your knees up to your chest. Your whole body shakes with fear, and you let out quiet sobs.

You fall asleep like that.

You wake up a few hours later because of a sudden chill; it's around 3am now. You realise you never opened your window.

You see a small note at the end of your bed. "Please", it reads.

This man has been in my house; he's been in my room multiple times, and he's watching me.

As disgusted and scared as you feel, a part of you feels... aroused? If he wanted to hurt you, he would've done so by now... he's just really into you, is all... right?

"fuck" you mutter under your breath.

Maybe I'm just as sick as he is.

You grab the green dildo out of the box, and you lie at the edge of your bed and pull your pants and panties down til your ankles.

Slowly, you insert the dildo into yourself, fucking yourself with the phallic object. In...out...in...out, over and over again.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, back arching as the motion speeds up.

After a few minutes, you can fit the entire dildo into yourself; it's girthy and long, which makes it quite the challenge. It even has veins on it, helping hit all the deeper spots. Quite a realistic dildo indeed.

You thrust it deeper and faster as you feel your climax approaching.

With one final thrust, you come undone, arching your back and gripping the bedsheet with your free hand, sweat glistening all over you, and wetness soaking the bed under your legs. Your thighs tremble, and your gasps choke out of you.

"fucking hell", you sit up and catch your breath, pulling your pants back on.

As you clean up the mess you made, you hear rustling at your door again, you run to it and open it, looking around and running up and down your lawn like an idiot. You accept defeat and head back in.

A sense of dread washes over you as you begin opening the envelope.

You find a Polaroid of the scene, of you fucking yourself with a dildo your stalker gifted you, hand wrapped over your mouth, lower half bare, back arched. Again, covered in semen.

Inside the envelope is a note: "Dolcezza mia, thank you for the lovely show. Such a pathetic and willing little girl you are.

FYI, that dildo was a custom-made replica of my cock, good to know you can take me."

Your throat closes up, arousal and fear take over you completely, leaving you numb.

What the hell did I just do?

You are now determined to find your stalker and make him pay.

The next morning, it's a Saturday, so a nice day in. You decide to be proactive and ask around the neighbourhood to find out if anyone knows anything about your stalker. You ask a few of your neighbours, who know nothing.

You finally get to Mr Nott's house, you hesitate before knocking.

"Hello", he says as he stands at the door, in grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt. You've never seen him dressed so casually, in something other than office attire. The compression shirt shows off his pecs, abs, and oh god... his arms, biceps, triceps, all of it. Pure muscle.

"Good morning, Mr Nott. I was wondering if I could ask for your help with something?" You try to keep your composure.

"Of course, come on in, love" The nickname makes you flinch; his British-Italian accent is really prominent when he calls you that. You walk in and take a seat on the couch.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm alright, thank you", you insist.

"So what exactly can I help you with?"

"Well, I have a stalker..." You wanted to avoid being so upfront about it, but it just slipped out.

"Oh? I'm going to need some more details" his face bears no expression or reaction.

"Right, it started almost two months ago. I keep receiving these envelopes, notes, and weird objects, some of them inside my room. So, whoever it is has been in my house, and it's getting scary, so I was just wondering if you've seen or heard anything?"

He raises an eyebrow at the mention of weird objects.

"I see, well, I really am sorry to hear that, it sounds awful. Unfortunately, I haven't seen or heard anything. But I'm here for whatever you need. I would be glad to help." He smiles, but his jaw tenses.

"Oh, it's alright, thank you, sir"

Sir? Seriously, why would I call him sir!

He clears his throat when you call him that, pants tightening a bit.

"Right, well, if this stalker bothers you again, you can call me, or come to me for help straight away, better safe than sorry, right?"

You smile at him

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it."

A few days go by, and you try tracking down the stalker, but all your leads lead to dead ends.

After one particularly long day, you head to Mr Nott's house with freshly baked brownies.

"What's this for, bella?" he says lazily, still in his suit.

"Just a thank you for being such a reassurance during all of this."

He raises an eyebrow, "I haven't even done anything."

"Just knowing I could rely on you for help meant a lot." You smile innocently at him.

He invites you inside, you refuse and say you are too tired, you head back to your house and think about the interaction, about how good he looked.

As you replay his words, it strikes you... "Bella". He called you "Bella".

All the notes have had Italian nicknames.

Mr Nott always had an odd accent, British mixed with something else, but it was a bit difficult to place, until now.

No, it can't be. He wouldn't do that... would he?

You spend the rest of the night trying to connect the dots and think about the likelihood of him being the stalker.

Just as you decide to go confront him, you hear a knock on the door.

When you open it, you see Theodore Nott standing there, black shirt, black tie loose on his neck, black trousers, and a terrifying look on his face.

"I knew you'd catch on when I slipped up, you're too smart not to, dolcezza mia." A devilish grin as he looms over you, forcefully backing you against the wall and shutting the door behind him.

"Theo..." you mumble, terrified, trying to get away from him.