estrambótica anastasia

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Levi only accepted the job by Erwin’s suggestion. After all, he made the mistake of mentioning he was looking for something part-time. He enjoyed his little weekend business and working around it during the week, but he didn’t want the passion project to end up eating his finances up. Plus he was no good with having so much time at home. 

He needed something else to keep his mind occupied while he could manage to turn the small project into hopefully an actual shop. And there’s only so much cleaning one can do to an already immaculate house. 

And of course Erwin, ever the helpful friend, was quick to spread word of his search to help him find something as soon as possible.

It’s not that he had been opposed to the help, or his everpresent support. But he did dread it; Levi knew that whatever Erwin came to him with, he’d feel obligated to accept. The idea of making the man feel bad after he had been so eager to do something for him was completely inacceptable.

So just like he expected, the moment Erwin called him with the grand news of a good opportunity, he said yes. He suppressed the need to criticize the idea of him being a chauffeur, didn’t even scowl—well maybe he did, but only for a bit—he gladly took your contact information and promised Erwin he’d reach out. And after getting the first response from you, and giving it some thought, he figured it’d do no harm.

You were offering a good pay to have him on call during the week, gave him weekends to himself, and his friends swore you weren’t someone that’d drive him insane in the few hours he’d be around you. 

It was the perfect arrangement for what he needed. He’d still get the time to do all of his own things, make enough money on the side, and all he had to do was drive you to work and a few other places. So, why not? ──

After some more email back and forth, getting all the little schedule details, locations, instructions, and everything else out the way, came Levi’s first day. It was both more and less awkward than you expected it to be. He wasn’t unpleasant by any means. But he was, unfortunately, perfect. 

He knocked on your door Monday at 8am sharp and you would’ve been lying if you said seeing him for the first time didn’t make you dizzy for a moment. The brief description you got from Erwin did him no justice whatsoever—though he did only say short, with dark hair, and enchanting grey eyes—his words.

The man in front of you was absolutely exquisite.

He wore a black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks that did wonders to accent the well-built body under it, staring you down with the most striking, and truly enchanting gaze you’ve ever seen—you’ll have to text Erwin later about being right—and scars on his face that only made him look even more enticing.

It was a miracle you didn’t audibly gasp when you opened the door. He had to be by far the sexiest, most beautiful man you’ve ever encountered. 

“Please come in.“ You shook off the initial shock, opening the door wide enough for him to step in the apartment. “I’ll be ready to leave in a moment.” You let him know as you stepped back.

He simply nodded in your direction, stepping past the entryway to watch you move around the place. Transferring things in and out of your handbag, gathering papers, and putting on your heels.

He was the picture of professionalism on the outside. Nonetheless, he felt just as taken aback. Your sickeningly sweet smile that shook him to his core, the very well-fitting dress you had on displaying your curves in all the right ways, the sweetest voice he’s ever heard saying his name to snap him out of his trance. It all set him alight in a way that seemed almost unfamiliar.

He had anticipated doing a more proper introduction when he came in, but the truth was that his mouth ran dry the moment he set eyes on you. All he could manage to do was stand silently against the wall of your living room while he waited. 

It wasn’t until you made it down to the car that he felt like he could finally speak, breathe, or do anything. Being able to focus on the road instead of your body, or your beautiful face, or your voice. God, what the fuck was happening to him.

He was quick to dismiss that first meeting as a one off thing, he was only human after all. It wasn’t strange that he’d notice how stunning you were. And it wasn’t strange that it’d affect him slightly. He’d get used to it.  ──

Fast forward to six months in, the two of you fell into a weird, strangely close, somewhat professional friendship. As it was to be expected, after weeks and weeks of seeing each other almost every day, you were bound to get comfortable. 

Or maybe it wasn’t bound to happen. The two of you just made it that way. 

Early morning drives that consisted mostly of yawns and complaints about the time and lengthy evening conversations during traffic jams just weren’t enough after the first couple of weeks. You wanted more of Levi’s time. And he wanted more of you.

You started running errands after work instead of on weekends, just to keep him around a little longer. Levi started actually accompanying you through them instead of waiting in the car, because he wanted the same thing.

He knew your morning routine like the back of his hand and still kept arriving way before you’d be ready to leave. At first it was only twenty minutes, then it became thirty, then a whole hour before, all for an excuse to be with you longer. And every single time, you let him in, not even bothering to tease him too much about his ‘subtle’ trick because you didn’t want him to stop doing it.

It took some time to get to know him past formalities. You’re sure you carried the bulk of the conversation for the first few weeks, but it was more than worth it once he finally eased into it. 

When he started sharing bits about himself here and there, it was so natural you didn’t even bat an eye at it; excitement only getting to you once you were out the car, realizing that he really had just shown you a slideshow of the flowers he’d grown recently, with his typical frown and a subtle pink flush to his cheeks.

Slowly but surely he opened up a little more, telling you a few things about his past, his retirement, and how he met his friends; always with minimal details, never letting you in on more than he was comfortable with. He told you about how during his twenties, he got the idea of owning a small tea shop, maybe even learn how to bake, but how he didn’t really feel the motivation to pursue it when he was finally at a stable place.

He revealed his impressive knack for gardening, and how he only got into it mostly out of spite because of an old neighbor telling him she could give him some tips on making all that space look less dead. It spurred him on to actually try, and he ended up enjoying the whole process a lot, moving on from taking care of the grass and a couple bushes to growing more things than he could do anything with. Which is what made him set up his market stand. 

You also learned about his clean freak tendencies. That, he didn’t share outright—because he disagrees it’s obsessive, so there’s no reason to bring it up—you figured it out by yourself when you realized he coincidentally got headaches when your apartment was even a little messy, and how he was in a noticeably nicer mood on the days it looked pristine. And then there was that time he stopped by your place to pick up something you forgot and told you how you should consider switching to a different cleaning service because he was absolutely appalled at how your usual cleaning lady was doing your floors.

“There were dirt streaks. I was standing and I could still see them.”

“Well, you’re not that far from the floor.”

“Take off your heels and say that again.”

──

Day after day, your encounters with Levi started moving past professional and civil to ‘don’t look my way like that again or I will have to kiss you.’ Neither of you could help it, being together was nice, and comfortable. And with every new week that started, it became harder to ignore the feelings that were steadily growing from that closeness.  

Monday 6:30pm

“Let’s push past your aversion to cold just today and blast the ac, I need all the air I can get.” You pleaded as he walked you to the car, thanking him when he opened the door for you. 

“What did you do today?” He asked after getting on the driver’s seat, doing quick, subtle work of letting his gaze rake over you while throwing your bag on the back seat. 

“Survive an assassination attempt while on a yoga mat.” You muttered as you let your hair down from the constricting ponytail, smiling to yourself at the small laugh that came out of him. Almost imperceptible for the regular bystander, it was more like the ghost of a snort, but you were attuned enough by now to recognize it. 

“Sounds lovely.” He watched when your head dropped against the headrest, eyes closed and sighing in contentment at the cold air slowly bringing you back to life. 

He focused first on your flushed cheeks and the small strands of hair that fell on your face, then the way your bottom lip slightly stuck out after your sigh, then he went lower, to where your chest moved up and down with every slow breath, and how your cleavage was pushed out by your lame excuse of a sports bra.

Your voice snapped him out of it before he could make it any lower.

“Levi?” Thankfully for him, you called his name before looking his way, giving him the second needed to tear his eyes away from your body and untighten his hand from the gear shift. 

“Hm?”

“Are we just going to stay here? Because if you want to hang out again I would rather be able to get out of my sweaty clothes while we do it.” 

“While?” He repeated back, looking at you with that same stoic, distant look that seemed to be etched into his face, the slightest twitch of a smirk on his lips being the only thing to signal he was teasing you. 

“That’s not what I meant. I meant ‘before’ we do it.” You corrected yourself, lips pursed together as you willed back the need to punch him when he had the audacity to chuckle. Chuckle! “Stop. That’s not what I meant!”

“Right.” He didn’t look your way again after he started the car, but you could see that small smirk just fine. 

Tuesday 5:00pm

Levi’s eyes narrowed the moment you made it out of the office building. You walked up to him the same way you always do, hips swaying in a cute work outfit he shouldn’t find as hot as he does, with a bright smile appearing the second you notice him. Usually the sight makes his chest feel warm. 

But today it just feels constricted. Not because of you, he couldn’t even focus on you because his eyes were stuck on the small bouquet of flowers you were holding as you made your way to the car. 

It was mocking him. A tiny white card stuck to the inner side of the ugly, wrinkled, brown paper letting him know you didn’t get those yourself. Which, of course, you’d never get such shriveled up looking roses, there was brown around the rim of some of the petals, and that disgusting paper, he would never give you a bouquet so lazily arranged, the roses still had thorns on them! Did he—or whoever gave them to you want you to hurt yourself? Did they not know how accident-prone you were? Clearly not, obviously they can’t know you that well since they didn’t even know to get you flowers you’d actually like—

“Helloooo.” Your hand waved in front of his face, making him look away from the thing and back to you. “Earth to Levi, are you with me?” 

He skipped right past the greeting, not even budging to step away from the car door. “What are those?”

“Flowers.” You stated, brows furrowed at the question, and the slightly disgusted expression almost replacing his frown. “One would think you're acquainted with them.”

“I’m acquainted with nicer looking ones.” He specified, the sentence coming out a little harsh. He moved out of the way to open the passenger side door for you, still soft and collected despite the clear irritation flowing through him. 

You wanted to think he was messing with you, trying to be humorous in his own way, but there was something about his tone that wasn’t teasing at all. Not something you recognized, or at least you don’t think it was ever aimed your way before. 

“What crawled up your ass and died today?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Still, too cold sounding for your taste. 

“Seriously?” Your frown now mimicked his. It was clear you didn’t want to let him just slip through the cracks with this one.

Levi on the other hand, couldn’t care less. He started the car without another word, ignoring the way you were frowning at your phone to hold back from asking him again. 

It took him the whole drive to your place to finally break, only speaking when the car came to a halt in front of the complex.

“Who gave you those?” 

You slowly set the phone down, mentally telling yourself to not jump in your seat when the missing piece of the puzzle finally fell down. 

“A guy from the office.” You explained calmly, measuring your tone to be as nonchalant as possible despite the smile that threatened to break through. 

Levi was too focused on solving this irritating mystery to comment on your barely concealed excitement “Why?” 

“What do you mean why? Is it that strange that somebody would give me flowers?” You feigned offense, holding back on the victory dance when he took the bait.

“No. I mean why did he give you flowers?” 

“Oh, he wanted to ask me out.”

“Yeah?” Had it been anyone else, the deadpan look with the chilly tone would’ve made you reach for the door, but getting it out of a jealous Levi only encouraged you to drag the moment on. 

“Yep.” You nodded, popping the p with a chipper look before adding more salt to the wound. “This Friday, classy restaurant.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about classy, judging by that.” He gestured to the bouquet still set on your lap. 

“It’s a nice gesture, it doesn't need to be grand.”

“They’re ugly.”

“Well, I think it’s the thought that counts.” You countered, savoring the way his jaw tightened. Oh if only you could take a picture!

Silence reigned in the car while the two of you practically had a stare down. He caved first, that small “tch” sound coming out as he reached to help with your bag, glaring at you when you handed him the bouquet as well. 

Still, he took it. 

He got out of the car as usual, circling to the other side to open the door for you. This time remaining firmly planted on the edge of the sidewalk once you got out of the car as if  following you to the apartment would set him on fire.

Only then did you decide to put him out of his misery. You hadn’t spent an evening without him in like three months, and you weren’t going to start now. 

“Oh, and I rejected him. Now can we go upstairs?”

He looked at you for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truthfulness in your statement. “You did?”

“Yes.”

He nodded before turning away, walking over a trash can on the side of the building and throwing the bouquet away. 

“Let’s go.” He walked to the door, avoiding your gaze as he held it open for you, knowing you had to be sporting a look smug enough to piss him off all over again.

Wednesday 8:15pm

Exhausted was an understatement to how you felt. It should be illegal to have any more than two ‘immediate urgency’ matters pop up on a single work day. 

Your butt was sore from how many hours you spent glued to your desk, your hips were stiff, your eyes felt dead, and you wanted to kill whoever it was that came up with the concept of overtime.

You wanted to get home, take off your heels, drop on the couch, and stuff your face with Chinese takeout. And the weather wasn’t helping, it had been steadily raining on and off since 2pm, the downpour only getting worse each time it started again. You wanted to curl up and not work for the rest of the week. 

All complaints Levi had been made more than aware of already, since you took texting him as your way to push through once you realized you had to stay in office past your normal hours. 

But now you were finally home, and you felt like you could relax the moment you walked inside.

“You should stay until it stops raining.” You murmured, covering your mouth to yawn while you dropped the umbrella next to where you kicked off your shoes.

Levi shook his head, bending down to pick up the things you dropped and placing them where they didn’t dirty the floor. “It’s late, and you’re tired.” 

“So? I don’t want you driving alone in this weather. And you’re tired too.”

“I’m always tired.” He said matter-of-factly, standing back up.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to let go of the open door. He looked so good then, with his shirt slightly damp from rain, the fabric clinging to his arms just a little tighter than usual, and his 'I love that I’m looking at you but I refuse to make that known' kind of semi-softened look on display.

“Seriously, if you get in an accident, what would I do without you?” 

“You’d hire another driver.” He smiled when you smacked his shoulder. 

“But I wouldn’t be able to get another you, and I only want you.” You pursed your lips together when you played back the words in your head, trying to think of anything that would make that sentence less that. “I mean—”

“I’ll stay.” 

Thursday 5:45pm

“You don’t like those.” 

“I don’t?” You questioned while setting the box down and following behind him as he pushed the shopping car past you. 

“Once a month you pick a different flavor of that same brand only because they’re sugar-free and then you complain about them being dry and disgusting.” His eyes scanned over the aisle of cookies, searching for a brand you actually enjoyed and throwing it on the cart. 

“Those are too sweet.” You pointed out to the new box, though you did like those.

“No, they’re not.” He reached for the list on your hand, ticking off the ‘cookies’ and reading through the remaining items you needed to get.

“I should get the other ones.”

“I'm cutting you off from talking.” 

You couldn’t get some smart ass retort out over a quiet giggle making you turn away from Levi, only to find a sweet looking lady watching the two of you with a smile. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be snoopy.” She chuckled, grabbing a box from the other side of the aisle with a frail laugh. “You two are adorable. You reminded me of my husband and I.”

She looked at you again, almost nostalgic before taking her leave. 

You and Levi were stuck in place, nodding along with a sheepish smile and an awkward look, without making even the slightest attempt to tell the cute old lady you weren’t a couple before she stepped away.

“Well, that was cute.”

“You’re still cut off.” Levi grumbled while pushing the cart away. 

Friday 10:11pm

You could’ve had a fun night, you were supposed to have fun, maybe get a little tipsy, deny you had feelings for Levi when your friends brought up the subject, try to prove your point by accepting a free drink from some guy you didn’t even spare a half glance to, and then reject him by saying you had a crazy jealous husband waiting for you to call—which was almost fully true if you took out the husband part. 

All things that were usual for a Friday night. But this time you’ve been nursing the same drink you first got two hours ago, and the sound of drunk people actually having fun had started to become irritating, and it wasn’t even that late but you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you wanted to go home.  

You held your phone to your ear, while your free hand fidgeted with the hem of your top, eyes drifting everywhere around the dingy bathroom while you waited for Levi to pick up the phone. 

“Heyyy, didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“You should hope not since I’m supposed to be picking you up. And it’s ten pm.”

“Oh that’s right. That’s great... that’s good. Well I’m ready, you should come now.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

“Sadly no, just awkward. Will you be long?”

“I’ll be ten minutes.” 

“You’re the best.” 

“Thank you. Don’t wait outside, I will let you know when I’m there.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know the drill.” 

—

“Did you miss me?” You questioned once you were in the car. The customary eyeroll you got whenever you teased him bothering you this time instead of making you laugh.

“I saw you three hours ago.” He remarked while turning on the engine.

You don’t really know what was it that had you frustrated tonight, but it was impossible to push down. “Every once in a while you should try not being a killjoy when you talk to me. You know, for the sake of this.”

“This?” He turned to look at you, hands falling back to his lap.

“You know, this.” You gestured between the two of you. “This thing.”

“What did you drink?”

You’re sure even security outside the bar heard the groan you let out. “Nevermind, just drive.”

He kept his mouth shut while pulling out of the spot, only nodding while repeating your words back in his head. As usual, he broke first.

“I can not be a killjoy.” He spoke up after a moment, focusing solely on the road. “Once.”

You turned to him at the first red light, lightly pushing on his shoulder to make him look at you. “Try now.”

He sighed as he met your gaze, taking you in for a moment before speaking. “I did miss you, and I’m glad you called earlier. And you look beautiful tonight.”

Your eyes widened at the admission, and Levi's sure he heard it when your breathing stopped. It came out so soft, so earnest. You should have him say it again so you can record it and make it your morning alarm.

All he needed to perk himself back up was have you drooling over him, saying things like “Fuck, Tsumu you’re so big.”, “You’re so strong.”, “You fuck me so good, please don’t stop.” While he all but ruined you right there on the entryway floor, because he couldn’t make it past your sweet voice welcoming him back without fishing his dick out of his pants. 

He made the discovery of his little preference a bit before you started living with him.

The two of you had a pretty heavy argument a few days before you were going to officially move in. It was smoothed out shortly after it happened and you had reassured him no longer being upset the next morning. Despite that, there was something about him still so saddened that he made you upset. He felt like such an idiot, almost ruining his own shot at a wonderful life with you. He knew you weren’t angry anymore, and you promised him you’d still be bringing your stuff over next week, but there was still something nagging him deep down and it just wouldn’t stop.

Atsumu truly cared about what you thought of him, and he doesn’t know what he’d do if those thoughts were to ever be negative.

The day after the argument, you found him waiting at your job's reception area when your lunch break started. You were whisked away as soon as he spotted you, and treated to a nice little restaurant close by. 

He spent most of the lunch repeating apologies for the night before that you took more than gladly, chuckling to yourself at how remorseful he was over something that had undoubtedly been a rather small rock in the road. 

“Tsumu, I told you I forgive you. We were both being stupid, there’s no need to apologize anymore.” You reassured him once more, smiling as he took your hand in his across the table.

“I know, I know. I’ll stop it. But couldja swear again ya still love me?” He looked at you with sad puppy dog eyes, and it took everything in you not to laugh.

“I swear to God, I still love you and I’ll never stop.”

“Alright, I’ll calm down now… I’ll calm down some.” 

After a nice hour of cheering you and himself up, Atsumu took you back to work; but not before pulling you to the backseat of his car, begging for your praise while pounding you relentlessly in some lonely spot on the back of your office’s parking lot.

Atsumu knew he could’ve waited until you were back home, but he desperately needed to have absolute acceptance to his apologies; and something he’d never doubt to be truthful was the sounds of your wet pussy swallowing his dick whole, accompanied by the feeling of your beautifully manicured hands clinging to his back. 

He was more talkative then than he had been any other time you had sex with him, which is an insane feat for Atsumu. 

He had you on your back against the plush leather seats, his hands firmly grasping your hips to keep you from squirming away from his deep, oppressive thrusts while he buried his face on your neck.

“M making ya feel good?—don’t run from it, c’mon—No one else could make you feel like this.” He sounded completely wrecked against you, breathy, desperate voice muffled against you, vying for your praise by making you see stars. “No one else can give this perfect pussy what it needs. Ain’t that right, sweet girl?”

He had to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from moaning loud enough for the entire lot to hear, leg muscles taut and twitching as he felt his high approaching when you started crying out his name, telling him he’s the only one who can fuck you that good.

“Just me. That’s right, baby.” He thrusted in you erratically, arms sliding under you to wrap firmly around your back, arching it just right to pound you at a better angle, dragging his swollen tip against that sweet spot to make you come undone with him. “Tell me ya love me, please ‘m so close—” 

Atsumu had gone back home feeling so giddy and relieved, the most stupid lovesick smile stuck on his face the entire afternoon, and still there when he picked you up from work. You had to bribe him so he’d wait until you made it to your house to throw himself at you again.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Domineering, devoted!Sakusa who had the world’s most patient princess for a partner. He knew he wasn’t the easiest person to date; he had all his problems with people, he was far too blunt—the warmth and tenderness he now treated you with was completely nonexistent when you first met—he was far too focused in his career and often consumed by it, and yet you didn’t seem to care about any of it. 

You treated his filterless honesty as an endearing thing. You admired his dedication and often reassured him of not being bothered by it, as long as he still gave you attention when he was home. You adapted to all his hygienic routines when you moved in with him as if you had been following them your whole life, never judging him for how thorough he was about some things, only chuckling to yourself at certain rules while nodding along. 

You were never upset at how quickly he liked leaving parties and events, you didn’t mind how he reserved most of his affection for behind closed doors, you gladly took the smallest bits of PDA he was okay with providing—like holding your wrist while you walked, sitting close enough your knees touched, or keeping a hand on your lower back whenever he deemed it appropriate—all because you knew when you got back home, you’d get all of him, unfiltered, and obsessed.

He was very appreciative of every compromise you made, everything you sacrificed, everything you agreed to; and he went out of his way to show it, wanting to make sure you’d never wake up one day upset about the life you were having with him. 

Kiyoomi treated you like something worth caring for at all times, the apple of his eye. When he was home, you could completely forget about touching a single kitchen utensil, he would make anything you pleased and would only let you sit on one of the stools and eye him up.

He made an effort to indulge you in every single request, no matter how big or small, just as long as it didn’t threaten your well-being. 

And God forbid you even thought of using your own money for any frivolous purchases your heart desired. He’d let you spend down to his last cent if you so wished; though thankfully for you both, you weren’t keen on bankruptcy.

In general, Kiyoomi was very hands-on when it came to caring for you. In every single way. He enjoyed showing you how truly devoted he was to reciprocating the kindness you graced him with, it was no one’s fault some of his preferred methods for it fell along indecent lines. 

It could have to do with the fact that he often worried his lack of affection in public could ever become a problem for you, so he made sure to be all over you the second you were alone. 

He took giving you all of him behind closed doors very seriously.

It would start as soon as he was back, immediately at ease at the perfectly pristine penthouse, taking off his shoes, his mask, and setting down everything in their respective places before he made his way to wherever you were.

Some days he’d be slower in his approach, when he found you already unwinding from your own responsibilities. 

He’d take your hand, giving it a chaste kiss while pulling you against him, asking you to join him in the shower. He’d start subtle, sweet. Helping you wash your hair, kissing and caressing every inch of your body he could manage to get at while the water remained warm. But before you knew it, soft massages and whispered compliments would end in you stuck between him and the tiled wall, his name leaving your lips like a prayer, while he thoroughly and efficiently showed you how much he loved you.

“Doing so good for me, need you to give me another one before you can take this cock.” Making your knees weak by sucking along your neck, his thumb pressed against your clit while three fingers shove into your gummy walls relentlessly.

And best believe he’d be nowhere near done until you were completely dumb and spent after cumming for the umpteenth time. 

After it all ended, he’d carefully dry you down before carrying you to bed while asking what you wanted for dinner, kissing your forehead in the softest way possible, as if he hadn’t rearranged your guts to the point of madness just two minutes ago.

Other times he’d throw subtlety and patience out the window, on the days where he’d find you in the middle of some work task or house chore you still needed to get through, not in the mood to wait until you were done. 

He enjoyed it a little too much when he caught you like that, too busy drying off dishes to notice the way he eyed you up when he stepped into the kitchen. 

You’d be none the wiser, melting as he pressed a kiss to your temple, arms wrapping around your waist from behind. He’d ask how your day was while peppering the side of your face with more innocent kisses.

“I went to get those new sweet potato treats you said you wanted us to try.”

“You did?” He smiled against your cheek, giving another kiss to it before moving down to your jaw

“Yeah, it took a bit too long to find them. It was a restock day at the store you told me about. There were boxes everywhere with the wrong labels piled on every aisle.”

“You had to be glad I wasn’t there.” He mumbled against your neck, breathing in the soft scent of your body wash still present on your skin. 

His hands slowly made their way to your sweatpants, undoing the strings before sliding his hand down your front. “Keep talking.” 

He chuckled to himself when you started stuttering out your words, already too excited when the only thing he had done so far was drag his finger along your clothed slit. 

“Was just saying it took me a whileee—Kiyoomi!” You squealed in surprise when he yanked down your sweatpants and underwear, a large palm coming to your lower back to make you bend against the counter before you could say anything else.

“I’m listening. It took you a long time because it was such a mess.” He repeated, gaze now stuck between your thighs. He sank down to his knees behind you, nudging you to spread your legs with a simple pat to your inner thigh. “But you still did it, because it was for me. Is that not it?”

“Of course. You—You were so excited hearing about them I wanted to—shit.” You did your best to keep your legs apart when his open palms went up your thighs, all the way until they were on each side of your already willing pussy, one of his thumbs came up to draw tight slow circles on your clit, making you clutch the edge of the countertop, your hole clenching around nothing, all for him to watch.

“You wanted to do something nice for me.” He finished for you, smirking to himself at the soft sounds he was dragging out of you. 

“Ye—Yes!” 

“Like the perfect girl you are. Always making me happy.” His thumb briefly dipped into your entrance, slowly thrusting in once to slick it up before dragging it back down to keep making you squirm with perfectly measured rubs to your twitching clit.

“I try my best.” 

“Do I always make you happy too?” His thumb pressed tighter against you, his other hand trailing up your ass to grope the plush skin, pulling to spread your pussy wider, every bit of wetness dripping out on display for his eyes only.

“Of course, Omi—haah fuck—You make me so happy, baby.”

“Don’t mind if I make sure that’s true, do you? If I make sure you’re happy with me?” Warm breath ghosted over your skin when he leaned closer, waiting for that weak, whimpered agreement to come out of your pretty lips.

“Please do.” 

“Thank you, princess.” 

Next thing heard in the quiet, cold kitchen would be the completely depraved sound of Kiyoomi spitting on your pussy and subsequently the pathetic whimper that tore out of your throat when his tongue dragged a long, slooww swipe along your slit before burying his face in. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Obsessed and freaky, but adorable!Bokuto who just loved being with you too much! He is a true believer that if you love someone you will want to live in their skin. And god knows he would if he could. 

Ever since you first started dating you had grown accustomed to the feel of Bokuto’s heavy, warm, strong body around you. There was never a time the two of you were out together where he didn’t touch you in some way; hands intertwined together, an arm thrown over your shoulders, a hand on your waist, or even his fingers holding to the belt loops of your jeans, anything he could manage to make you feel close to him. 

And as your relationship grew, so did his displays of affection. At some point he stopped caring about where you were or who was around, if he wanted to feel you flush against him, he would make it happen. 

He’d sit you down on his lap while he chatted along with his teammates, be it at your house, theirs, even at bars. If you needed to stand for whatever reason, he’d sit right next to you, hands wrapped around your waist or one of your thighs, with his face resting on your side. 

His touch tended to turn towards slightly inappropriate, but it was an accident more often than not. It was slightly automatic, if you will. If you wore a nicely snug top, he couldn’t help but sneak in a squeeze or two when he saw it, no matter where the two of you were. 

One time you came to pick him up from training because his car was getting fixed and you made the mistake of wearing a dangerously showy neckline; he practically jumped upon seeing you, like every other time, but instead of engulfing you in his usual bear hug, he picked you up by wrapping his arms under your butt so you’d be higher than him, burying his face in your cleavage in the process.

A loud “You look so good, baby! I missed you!” coming out muffled from where his face stationed itself. Too caught up in you to pay attention to the whistles and laughs from his friends.

You had a stern talk with him about PDA after that, one that truly just went in one ear and out the other because his attention was solely on how good you looked that day. He only nodded along with a dumb smile, muttering small apologies while his hands slid up under your shirt, fondling your breasts through your bra while trying his best to actually hear the words coming out of your mouth.

Bokuto never meant to be perverted per se, he was just insufferably oblivious to how the lines between his affections and his horniness seemed to blur together. And when he noticed, he couldn't care less.

He just loved touching you, and you can’t blame him for loving his fiancée oh so much! 

He’d be the clingiest after long days at work. Hours of running drills, practicing spikes, and lifting weights wasn’t necessarily something that made him want to run back home. He loved it all; what he hated was the days where it all mixed with a dozen other things he had to do—new uniform fittings, preps for press before the next game, meetings about the next tournament and what they all needed to focus on, and a quick drink with his teammates before heading out—making him leave early in the morning while you were still asleep, and return far too late (8:15pm) when you must’ve been done with work and everything you had to do ages ago.

He felt so sad when he thought about all the time you spent on your own—you were fine, his suffering was completely made up—all alone, without his hugs, his kisses, his tickles, the sporadic lick to your face you claimed to hate but he was sure you loved. It must be so terrible for you!

Late nights like that he’d find you laying on the couch, legs sprawled, hair messy splayed out on the cushion behind you, slowly flipping through the pages of whatever book you were currently obsessing over, and he’d be unable to help himself. 

Dropping his gym bag on the floor, phone on the coffee table, and throwing himself at you. He smelt like a mix of sweat, his cologne, and whatever drink he quickly dawned before coming back to you. 

“Kotaro, baby.” He’d hum in response, carefully closing your book and putting it aside before smushing his face in your chest, warm hands sliding up your sides from under your thin top. “You’re crushing me.”

“‘M sorry. I missed you though.” He’d make no effort to move at first, keeping his whole body weight on you and only letting up after hearing you say you missed him too. 

Then he perked up, pushing himself up on one of his elbows to keep some weight off you while his other hand came up to your face, brushing away loose strands of hair before kissing your nose “How much did you miss me?” 

“A lot.”

“What’s a lot?” He’d ask, making you chuckle when he tried to bite back a smile, this was a serious matter only. “A lot like you were counting the seconds until my return just now or a lot like you couldn't stop crying the moment you got home and realized I wasn’t back yet?”

“You’re never gonna believe me, Ko. I did both things.”

“I knew it.” 

You laughed when he started attacking you with kisses, having given him the answer he needed. Of course you missed him to the point of tears, just like he missed you!

He covered your face in small quick smooches before finally bringing his lips to yours. One thing about Bokuto is that he didn’t care for giving you short, sweet pecks when he felt clingy like this. He kissed you the way you’d expect of someone like him, completely overpowering, all-consuming, and as passionate as everything else he did. 

The kind of kisses that took your breath away and made you too distracted to notice his hands already working your clothes off, pulling down the straps of your tank top and dragging it down enough to free your tits, rough hands groping shamelessly.

He’d break away only to fully take the top off and pick you up to switch your positions, sitting down and plopping you on his lap, so you'd straddle him.

If you tried to stop him—why would you do such a thing—the only thing you’d get out of him would be his hands firmly digging on your hips, helping you slowly roll them against him, his hardening bulge perfectly pressed against you.

“Baby, give Ko a second, yeah?” The words came out rasped, shooing off any more attempts at slowing him down. “Just need a minute.” He’d murmur before bringing you forward with another mean roll of your hips so your tits were right on his face, slowly licking around one of your perked buds when he leaned in before fully taking your nipple in his mouth. 

His warm tongue sucked eagerly while one of his hands came up to grope your other breast, rolling the neglected peak between his index and thumb. 

His fingers dug on your skin while he slobbered over your tits, moving from one to the other; he switched between sucking on them and leaving hickeys around the soft skin, moving up to your neck every so often to do the same thing. Sharp canines dragged along your pulse point, a silent, exciting threat keeping you pliant above him while his hips bucked up with every new grind of yours, precum already leaking past his underwear.

And don’t even get him started on how it was when he had to travel. Away games when you were too full with work to come with? His own personal hell. And yours too. It’s like he knew just how terrible he was going to be when he came back that he had to make sure you were just as bad as him by then.

He’d call you first thing in the morning, saying he hopes you had the best day ever, telling you how he misses you so much it makes him want to throw himself at the ocean—even though it has only been one night—how he can’t wait to be back home and cuddle with you all weekend long. All tooth rotting cuteness that was only bound to crumble the longer he went on without you. 

That same day you could count on those kind of messages to start flooding in the moment your lunch break started. 

“Hey baby!!!”

“Have you been thinking about me? I’ve been thinking about you”

“Miss that pretty face and your sweet pussy”

“And your tits!”

“Think you could send me a picture? I only have old ones, and I marked you up so pretty yesterday, I wanna see that again”

He holds off on just that at first, keeping you eager for his return over texts, teasing compliments, obscene comments, and maybe one or two pictures of his dick straining in his boxers. 

Then on the last night before he returned, like clockwork, you’d get a call once you were already cozy under the sheets, some time after he texted you goodnight. 

Low, breathy. “Hey, baby. Weren’t sleeping yet, were you?,” coming out from the other line, followed by the unmistakable sound of him stroking himself, hard. Small groans leaving his lips, not caring to pretend. “I miss you so much, angel. You have no idea.”

“Can’t even wait to come back tomorrow, Ko. You’re so needy.” You chuckled lightly, though your words came out strained, he sounded so goddamn good. 

“All for you.” He rasped out, his breathing ragged as he picked up the speed, every word out of his mouth growing progressively nastier the closer he got. “Gonna make you feel so good tomorrow, make you sit on my face and ride it til you’re tapping out.”

“Fuck, I wish I was there with you.”

“Wouldn’t have to use my hand if I was laying there next to you, would be using you instead. And you’d love it, right baby? You love taking this fat cock in that cute little pussy of yours.” . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Irresistible, proud owner of a hypno dick!Hinata who wasn’t needy at all, at least he didn’t think so. 

He met you shortly after coming back from Brazil, and like most of his infatuations, his feelings for you hit him hard and all at once. He made no effort to hide or downplay being interested in you. 

He got your number the day you met without a second thought. He asked you out on a date after only two days of talking, and he was the perfect gentleman all around from the start. 

He never hid how excited he was to be with you, bringing you gorgeous flowers every day he saw you, a different kind each time so that you’d have a unique bouquet at home. He kept an extra umbrella with him on rainy days because you always forgot yours. For the first few dates he asked for permission to kiss before dropping you off at home, blushing every time you said yes. He invited you to all his games, even practice ones, always running to you at the end, sweaty and adrenaline-filled asking you if you saw that really cool block he made near the end, it was very cool, wasn’t it? Do you think he’s cool? Please say yes.

He was sweet in a way that made it impossible for you not to swoon, and that continued on far past the first dates. Once your relationship was more serious, and you moved in together, you could’ve sworn Hinata became ten times more affectionate than he already was, and even more excited to be near you, if that was even possible. 

He was stoked about every step of the process. Unpacking both of your things in the new apartment was to him of equal excitement to being at an amusement park for the first time when you’re young; every time he set one of his things next to yours he’d turn to you to boast about it. “Look! That’s your toothbrush, next to mine. Isn’t that nice?”

Hinata didn’t think he was needy, because he didn’t have to be. He was just so goddamn cute you couldn’t not throw yourself at him. Every stupidly sweet sentence, every content sigh thrown your way, every surprise hug he pulled you into that made you melt against his embrace, everything about him was enough to make you pull him in for delirious kisses that almost always ended in something way beyond just kissing. 

Now, he wasn’t completely unaware. He knew you had the softest spot for him and he did take advantage of it sometimes. He just loved the fact that you only needed the smallest of encouragement to ask him for more, it made him feel wanted, and desired. He loved that. And so, whenever he did feel particularly mushy, and like he wanted every part of you to himself as soon as possible, he would take out all the little tricks that worked perfectly to get you under him. 

Lingering for a little too long in the bathroom while you were showering to ‘look for something’ and talking about how glad he was he got off early that day because he was so spent and couldn’t wait to come back and see your pretty smile, how much he really wanted to kiss you, until you'd break and ask him to join you, his clothes already discarded long before you even made the offer.

Bringing you to join him on the couch when you came back from work on his days off, helping you rid of your shoes and tenderly pulling your feet to his lap, massaging them while letting you know he already ordered your favorite food, and had a nice movie picked out for the two of you to watch. He’d slowly massage up your legs until his hands were dragging along your inner thighs with just the right amount of pressure, bottom lip stuck between his teeth in restraint while he patiently waited for you to plead him to go higher.

Or his favorite, whenever you were out on the town with him. He was always happy whenever you agreed to come out with him and his friend group, the sight of you, his absolute treasure, mingling with those he loved most like you had known them all your life. It brought a sweet, fluttery ache to his heart that made him need to have you, all of you, quickly, please. 

So he’d give you that look that never failed to butter you up, the world’s most lovesick ‘I can’t believe it’s you who hangs the stars in the sky’ kind of look.

“Stop that.” You warned him, yet still pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Already knowing all too well where this was headed.

“Stop what?” He wrapped an arm around your waist, brought you to his side to kiss you back, a small innocent peck on your lips. 

“We can’t leave yet, it’s still early.”

“I didn’t say we had to leave, we could just sneak away. For a moment?” He pouted, a plea that only lasted another second before he laughed at the glare you threw his way. “I’ll be good, I just want to feel you. I love you so much.”

You rolled your eyes, pursing your lips together to keep from smiling at how terribly sweet he sounded. “Just for a moment, and we’re not fucking.”

Whoever Hinata swore on when he agreed to that last part must be confused as to why they’re suddenly coughing, because that promise only lasted about five minutes. 

One, two, three kisses and you were already on top of him on the passenger seat of your car, panties thrown somewhere in the backseat and two of his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy while you made quick work of undoing his jeans.

“Can I be inside you now, pretty?” 

You weakly shook your head, hand wrapping around him, using the precum dripping down his tip to stroke him out in that teasingly delicious way he loved. “We have—oh just like that—have to be quick, baby. They’re waiting.”

“We’ll be back after I feel you make a mess on my dick. How’s that?”

You wanted to smack the eager grin on his face, he knew as much. But he also knew you were too down bad for him to refuse. 

The second you nodded he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss of contact. 

He brought them down to his dick, smearing your wetness around it while you positioned yourself above the tip. He could only thank God the parking lot was deserted because the sounds that came out of both of you the moment you sank down on him were straight up pornographic. 

Anyone who had the displeasure of hearing the two of you would’ve thought you’re fucking for the very first time after not seeing each other for years. But that's just how Shoyo was when it came to you, a completely desperate, yearning freak. 

“So fucking good, you’re so perfect for me, pretty.” His hands went under your skirt, fingers digging on your ass to hold you in place while thrusting up into you like a fleshlight, the squelching sound of you creaming around him while you cried out his name being like music to his ears, the sweetest melody in the world.

“So much for calling beforehand.” You chastised as you opened the door wide enough for them to step in.

“I was counting on a yes.”

You rolled your eyes yet still greeted Shiu with a smile. One that quickly dropped when you locked your eyes on Toji. He walked into the house, saturating your senses with his imposing demeanor, and that softened gaze he reserved just for you. You couldn’t help the scowl that followed upon seeing him. However, your disgust wasn’t over his presence itself; it was over how it made you feel.  

The three of you made your way into your kitchen as Shiu explained to you some of their situation, as little as he could to not properly involve you in their problem. You leaned on the counter, listening intently, trying your best not to let your gaze drift to him and failing every time. 

“Now, I’m out of here.” Shiu tapped his pockets, taking his phone out before leaning over to you, planting a small kiss on your cheek before turning on his heel. “I’ll be back for him before sunrise.”  

“Don’t be an asshole.” He threw Toji’s way with a pat on his shoulder.  

You straightened up as Shiu walked away, meeting the dreaded gaze that was burning through your skin right now.  

“I—” 

“Have you eaten?” You cut him off, not ready for a conversation yet.  

He chuckled dryly, then shook his head no. 

You pushed his way the plate with the sandwich you had been making while on the phone; your appetite diminished now.  

“Have it. I’m going to shower.” You offered, handing him a napkin and reaching for the fridge before he could object. 

“Can I speak?” He watched you amused, gladly accepting the beer you handed him.  

You didn’t answer, simply looking at him and waving your hand for him to start. 

“Thank you, your highness.” He teased with a mock curtsy. 

Silence lingered for a moment as he straightened to his full height again, staring holes into you.  

“I missed you.” 

You couldn’t have rolled your eyes further back if you tried. 

“Fuck off.” 

You left the kitchen the moment you said it, afraid that if you stayed even a second too long, he’d be able to see how badly you wanted to melt over his words. How long had you been waiting to hear him say that? 

—

You don’t know how long you stayed under the cold water, staring mindlessly at the tiled wall, pondering over what you should do, if anything at all.

Wondering if you should come out once you're done, sit next to him, even if you wouldn't be able to endure any longer than five minutes in his presence; or maybe you should just hole yourself up in your room and not come out until Shiu called.  

If only you could reach into your brain and completely shake off every emotionally charged thought you had of him as soon as they happened, it’d make this night a whole lot easier.  

The sound of a notification going off on your phone finally took you out of your ruminating, prompting you to step out of the shower and continue overthinking while you dried yourself off and got dressed. Stepping into your room, you searched through your closet, picking a loose pair of pajama pants and slipping them on.

The moment you grabbed a tank top from a pile, your door was knocked on, and before you could even finish putting it on, Toji had already barged in your room.  

“Could you lift it up again?” He asked with a smirk, calmly closing the door behind him and setting down on your dresser a plate with a sandwich, messier than the one you had made earlier.  

“What do you want?” You asked, completely dismissing his request, and firmly setting the tank top down fully.

He didn’t retreat from his spot at the door, keeping you away from a possible escape. “You should eat too.” He gestured to the plate before crossing his arms.  

“Thank you. You can leave.” You spoke as firmly as you could muster, not wanting to admit the small action warmed your heart in a far too familiar way. 

“No.” He simply chuckled. 

“I’m serious, Fushiguro. Get out.” You ordered again, walking to your bathroom in hopes that ignoring him would make him leave.  

“Toji.” He corrected before following your trail. “And no. We’re talking.” 

You paid no mind to his correction, choosing the path of silence. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, grabbing your hairbrush and detangling your hair as if the immense man standing behind you wasn’t visible, praying to yourself he would give up if you stayed unbothered.

“You heard what I said earlier.”

God wasn’t listening tonight. 

You hummed in response, your eyes drifting to him, seeing his own rake through your body with much more fervor than you’d like to admit you noticed. 

“You missed me?”  

“No.”  

“Bullshit.” 

You groaned, starting to feel irritation get the best of you. “Why is it so hard for you to leave me alone?” You muttered under your breath, not wanting to start an argument but knowing deep down it was only a matter of time.  

“I thought you liked having me around.” He teased, with a pang of something you didn’t want to call hurt lingering in his tone.

He reached to his left, handing you the hand towel next to him when you grabbed your face wash, continuing to go through your nightly routine as if he wasn’t present; the casual domesticity of the moment making you practically rip the towel out of his hand.

“Emphasis on the past tense.” You muttered, washing your face for a moment too long, basking in the small moment of silence. 

“What do I have to say for you to talk to me? Properly” He watched your every move through the mirror, the slightest of smiles tugging on his lips.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” You dried off your face before stepping back out to the room, holding back the need to push him away when he followed close behind. 

“I think there’s plenty.” 

“Fushiguro—”  

“Toji.” He interrupted, grabbing a firm hold of your wrist to guide you as he sat down on your bed, legs spread wide as if he belonged there, and made you stand right in front of him.  

“Human of the male species.” You started again, stubbornly refusing to give in to his request again, as if saying his name would set you on fire. “Whatever it is you want to discuss, I don’t feel like it.” You emphasized with a pull of your wrist that did nothing for him to loosen his grip, only making him scoff.  

“You can’t still be mad at me. It wasn’t—” 

“If you dare tell me you cheating wasn’t a big deal, I will manage to stab you before Shiu makes it back.” You spit out, feeling a headache coming your way the moment you brought up the subject.  

Toji took a hold of your other wrist as well, bringing you closer between his legs, his eyes never leaving yours. “I tried telling you. It’s not what I meant to do.” You interjected with a dry laugh, mumbling an undetectable insult under your breath, still you let him continue. “I didn’t think we were exclusive, we never talked about it.” 

“And I didn’t think it was necessary to even state it.”  

“Oh, c’mon.” 

“Oh, c’mon!” You mocked. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! That I thought having you here practically every night, having you embedded into every part of my life, and having you drag me into every bit of yours would mean we have some sort of relationship. That was truly stupid of me.”  

“I’m not reproaching you for it. But you’re admitting it, we didn’t talk about it.” 

Your jaw clenched at the comment, and he could sense you were about to throw another rebuttal, or claw out his eyes. He let go of your wrists to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you against him, desperate. He looked up at you with reverence, his free hand brushing up and down your arm, “Tch, stay still. Listen to me.” He cooed when you tried to pull it away.  

“I don’t want to listen to you talk about your undeniable innocence.” 

“Fine, I fucked up. Will you hear me out then?” The admission took you off guard, giving him the space to continue. “I didn’t think we should be exclusive—Stop, listen.” His hand gripped your waist tighter as you tried to pull away again. A dull ache under his fingertips assuring you’ll feel his grip even once it’s long gone.

Your hand pushed his arm, yet any try was futile against his strength. “Stay still before I tie you up, and you know I will.” He warned, yet there was no real harshness to his tone. 

“I didn’t think you should be with me.” He eased his grip once you finally stood still, both his hands coming to your waist and rubbing apologetic circles. “I don’t think you should be with me. But I can’t not have you with me.” He let out a long sigh, this bullshit of expressing yourself properly for a man with little to no emotional regulation proved to be harder than he thought.  

His head dropped to your midsection; words muffled against your top. “What you saw that night was not what you thought. I didn’t—” He stopped, not wanting to repeat the same words he knew pissed you off so badly. “It was somewhat what you thought. I did take her home, but I didn’t— I didn’t do it.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the attempt of a confession, the reminder of that night tasting sour on your throat. You had gone to his place, tired of his sudden distant attitude and wanting to know if you should put an end to whatever the two of you were doing; only to find some random woman leaving his apartment right as you arrived, with him looking wasted and disheveled behind her.

You hadn’t wanted to hear his explanations, apologies, or worse, his dismissal; you were gone the moment his eyes locked on you. The next day you had already blocked him practically everywhere and started spending as much time at work and anywhere else to avoid any interaction with him, knowing he’d probably be knocking at your door every evening for the next few days.  

“You didn’t do what?” You asked, your hand sliding through his hair and pulling it to make him face you again, a move he complied with willingly.

“I didn’t fuck her.” He answered, his eyes boring into yours, fingers twitching against your sides as if waiting for you to try and pull away so he could pull you right back in.

“I know how it looked. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.” He waited, not wanting to continue without giving you a chance to answer while you were too mixed up on how to even react. He cleared his throat and straightened up. “I thought I could, and that if I did, it would show nothing was serious between us. And that I wouldn’t mind if you did the same.” 

“I don’t think I ever made it seem like I wanted to do that.” Your voice was small now, riddled with confusion; all efforts of arguing long gone. You didn’t know if you were understanding him correctly, and if you were, it was uncertain whether you believed him or not.  

“You didn’t, it was all me.”  

“I’m not understanding. If you didn’t want us to be in a relationship, you could’ve said that. You could’ve said we were a temporary thing; I would have-” You stopped yourself before you could finish. You would have accepted it, you would’ve been okay with it; you would’ve taken anything he was willing to give as long as it meant you had something of him, anything. But you weren’t going to humiliate yourself like that.  

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t fucking know how to.” He sighed, dropping his head against your midsection once more with a groan. “Fushiguro.”  

“Shut up.” He muttered, his hands caressed your hips, silence reigning for a moment too long.

“You deserve someone better than me. But I would die before I let you be anyone else’s... I felt that way then too, and I thought I was being an asshole for being so selfish. For dragging you with me, when you could have something so much better with anyone that wasn't me.” 

His hands slid under your shirt and up your back, holding you in place. “I wanted to push that away and move on from you. I wanted to push you away. And I couldn’t, as soon as I brought her inside, even drunk out of my mind I knew I fucked over us, and myself. And I couldn’t regret it more if I tried” 

Your eyes were stuck on him, and you were almost frozen in place. Analyzing every word and every movement even if minuscule, to catch him on the lie, if it was one. 

He couldn’t stand the silence as it lingered on once again, and he couldn’t stand not acting on his regret, not acting on that selfish need to have you that never died down despite your strict distance.

“Forgive me.” A simple request came out; his nose ghosted over the bare skin of your stomach, the fabric of your shirt riding higher from the languid strokes of his hands on your back. 

“For being an idiot.” He murmured while looking up to meet your gaze.

“For hurting you.” He pressed a kiss on your stomach.

“For not being honest.” He continued up, lips planting firmly on every inch of skin his hands exposed.

“Gimme another chance.” 

He moved higher up your torso until reaching right under your breasts. You were breathless from the kisses alone, shaking your head at his words, yet not attempting to flee from his grasp. “I don’t trust a single word that comes out of your mouth.” 

He laughed against your skin, “Did you ever.” It wasn't even a question. He’s never been trustworthy; never tried to be. He could only hope you give him the opportunity to start trying now.   

Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself as he rose up. You couldn’t think of a proper answer, not when his lips decided to connect with your neck now, gently sucking.

“Talk to me.” He murmured against your skin before biting down, doing his best to leave a nice mark before kissing a trail up to your lips, finally capturing them with that characteristic roughness of his.

“You’re gonna give me a chance?” The words were muffled against your lips. 

You thought of saying no, of pushing him off and telling him to leave you alone. You didn’t want to go through another uncertain chapter of your life, to have him doubt what he wants all over again and leave you to pick up the pieces. And still, you took a hold of his face, deepening the kiss and relishing in the groan he let out. God, you were an idiot. 

Toji didn’t wait any longer to devour you, engulfing you completely in his arms and slipping his tongue into your mouth; with fervor, he slowly dragged out every breath you took, familiarizing himself once more with the taste of you, the feel of you.

Without breaking the kiss, he gripped both of your thighs and hoisted you to wrap yourself around him, pressing you roughly against his crotch, and taking advantage of the gasp you let out to suck on your tongue.

It was completely filthy the way he was kissing you now. Sucking you in, exploring every part of your mouth, biting on your lips hard enough to make you squeal against him.  

One of your hands pushed on his chest, tapping it incessantly when you started feeling too lightheaded. “Fushiguro!” You smacked his shoulder once he finally let you breathe; it made him laugh, but he still complied, sort of, moving back to kiss along your jaw and neck.

“Say my name.” He asked against your skin, licking a long stripe along the length of your neck, your head thrown back to give him further access. 

“You’re obsessed with that now.” The words came out in shaky breaths, open mouthed kisses along the line of your collarbone furthering your exhilarated state.  

“I know you’re doing it on purpose, doll. I'm not stupid.” He rasped out before sitting back on the bed with you still wrapped around him, his hands gripping your ass tightly and rolling your hips. “Because you know—fuck, I missed this—you know I like how it sounds when it comes out those pretty lips.” He groaned against your neck, his movements unfaltering, the rough grind of your clothed pussy against the rock-hard bulge in his pants earning a symphony of moans out of you.  

He thrusted his hips up in tandem to each roll of your hips, making you whine out. “C’mon, girl.” He continued biting and sucking new marks on your neck. The intensity of his movements only grew the more you melted against him.