WE'RE ABOUT TO WITNESS THIS!!!!!

big and bad.

pairing: matsukawa issei x reader

summary: the woods are a dark place.

genre: fantasy

word count: 1.6K

warnings: i didn’t have this beta’d and this was completed at 5:30am so there might be mistakes but uh, none otherwise that i can think of (but please message me to correct me)

author’s note: heyo! 🤪 I’m back with another HQHQ server collab fic! you can check out the other amazing writers’ works here! i have our dear mattsun for both collabs (and both parts are now posted)!! n e ways as always, I hope you guys enjoy! 💕

part two (18+)

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#fly high hinata

hey im new here does hinata live at the end of hq?

during the olympics oikawa spikes a ball directly into his head using his full force, killing him instantly.

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𝚂𝙰𝙻𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

a girl can only do so much when threatened to the edge. no sane person is willing to jump, but the alternative isn't any better, is it? my piece for the mythology collab from hqhq! ♡ i struggled a lot so if it is disjointed i do apologize. I wrote my love Iwa as TÝR (God of justice, war and the sun) because I really wanted to do a gods piece but I didn't want to go for the greek gods this time.

.wordc. 4.5k+ tw noncon, size kink (hajime is 7ft+ in this), degradation, master, power abuse, coercion, unrelated violence/blood, hairpulling, breeding, (1) tummy bulge

We begin in the dark and birth is the death of us— Antigone

Two ravens pass low over the rolling hills, as you pull your cloak closer around you. The thick layer of white hangs impatiently above the grain as the world prepares for sleep, your nose a bitten by the frost. You chew your lips only a second before pushing on. And though the night is plenty scary on it’s own, your heart beats violently against the curve of your ribs. It only serves to remind you how easily shattered bone is, and how soft your skin.

The fields make way for a looming, dark structure through the fog, seeming to crawl its way out of the earth with claws and teeth. There’s no doubt it must’ve looked majestic at one point in time, but dusk leaves the gold pillars with only a muddled sheen of glory, and winter has already gnawed at the foundations.

Cold shivers climb higher and higher up your spine as one of the ravens lands on the edge of the roof, making you stop right in place with held breath. To your slight relief, it only eyes you for a moment before flying off. Knowing one god will be watching you in there is more than enough pressure already.

By the time you get to the stairs, the bottom half of your clothes is damp and weathered, but at this point you have no choice but to give up on seeming high and mighty. You don’t have much to hide anymore. The towering building whines as you push at the door but gives in, and the door falls shut with an echoing noise. With a thick layer of dust that kicks up any time you take a step, your worry both lowers and grows a bit brighter. On one hand, it seems like he has abandoned his place of worship. But on he other— the worshippers have too, and gods don’t take too kindly to being forgotten.

With a deep breath, you crawl over a part of the cracked table, then kneel down to brush away some of the dust. There’s only a small prayer that rings through your mind as you take out a stone from your bag and trace the runes carved into the floor, then place down your candles in every cardinal direction and your offering. The last of your jewelry. “Please work,” you whisper to yourself, “I don’t have the time for this. We need your help.” The silence, thick and pressing, drags on for a few tense minutes, and your heart lurches into your throat as you wait. But it doesn’t come, nothing comes, and your eyes fly open again.

Ever so slowly, you can feel that childlike bit of hope extinguish inside you too. The gods might as well be dead. With a deep sigh you pick yourself up from your knees, moving a pebble with the tip of your shoe as you really let the soreness of your shoulders sink in. This must be what defeat is like. It only stings when you feel the cold metal of your family crest below your collarbones, looking around the place once more. Cobwebs cover most of the supporting beams and any precious jewels have already been pried out of the walls, so there’s not much to worship left anyway.

As you walk to look out the window at the purple evening sky, a soft noise rings in the back of your head though. Sounding almost like— burning. Turning on your heels, you stumble back so quick you almost trip. The candles are burning bright, a scorching blue flame cracking and snapping as the wicks are eaten up before your eyes. And with your hairs standing all the way up, you stay frozen in place for what feels like an eternity. Deep breaths, you remind yourself, deep, long breaths. You manage to calm down a little as you close your eyes.

“I suppose it’s nice that people still try to pray,” a deep, gravelly voice fills the temple, sounding both like a child’s whisper and a thunderstorm. It feels like an assault to your brain, and you’re so stunned for a few seconds that you forget to breathe. “But I’m not really the forgiving type.” You can only reach up to brush your hands at your ears, surprised that you’re not bleeding. It feels so warm and sharp, piercing through skin and bone. It’s only when you hear footsteps that you’re able to snap out of your daze enough to recognize that a voice belongs to a person, that you were alone and now you’re not. He walks around you to kneel at the flames, easily picking up the golden piece and paying you no mind.

As you try to understand any of what just happened, you loosen your grip on your clothes and frown, puffing your chest out just a little. You didn’t just go through the worst week of your life to get robbed again. “Hey, that’s not yours to take. Give it back,” you say, putting out your hand with a frown. “Who are you anyway?”

The man straightens up as you watch, following the flexing of his back and shoulders as they move the dark ink there. You only allow yourself to stare for a moment though. You swallow when he turns, suddenly noticing how much he really towers over you when you meet his eyes. He’s huge, at least a foot taller than any man you’ve ever seen and as muscular as the best of them too. There’s a slight twitch in his brow when his eyes drop to your outstretched hand, and you instantly feel laughable. Barely a pebble for this giant of a— whatever he is.

To your relief he doesn’t mention your call for discipline, and responds with that same bone piercing tone as he motions around. So distracting. “Where do you think you are right now?” The purposefully vague answer trickles down into your mind as he pockets the last of your valuables, lips dropping open.

Before you can get anything out of your gaping mouth, he cuts you off by lifting a hand. “Quiet, human. I’m not the cheery type, and I haven’t had any worthwhile offerings in quite some years. It’d be best to keep that in mind before you speak.” As he assesses the temple with a growing frown, you instead stare him down for a few seconds, letting your eyes run all over to really take him in.

Dark hair frames a handsome face, of someone who you’d guess to be a few years older than you— in normal situations. Sharp jaw and an iron expression, but the most beautiful warm, green eyes you’ve ever seen. Like spring, like the mossy hills of home. And the blades attached to his hip only solidify your thoughts. Týr.

You swallow as you take a few steps back, suddenly wanting nothing more than to turn and run all the way back home without stopping. Your situation nags at you as soon as you think it though, recognizing one sad truth. Your home is nothing more than a sad pile of ashes, you have nothing left to go back to. There’s nothing left to do other than bend down and pray for divine intervention anyway. Might as well.

“I need your help,” you start, and he doesn’t spare you a glance as he speaks.

“I am aware. You think I come down for any unlucky fool who breathes my name if they don’t have a reason?” For a few seconds you debate answering that in your head, but it wouldn’t do you much good. Not when all you have is snarky comments in return. “Don’t waste my time. Come on, out with it.”

“My village, and most of the other villages further inland have been run over with crusaders. They burned our houses, stole us dry, and now they’ve taken the men. They took my little brother and my sister’s infant son too.” Your heart aches at the thought of anything at all happening to them. “They took them— My people are dying out there while you sit back and wait, and I- I want them back. I need help.” You take one deep breath, your voice turning desperate. “I am asking you to help me,” you rephrase, feeling the nerves burn high on your cheeks. It doesn’t matter. This was your last resort. If not this, you’ll never see them again. You owe it to yourself to try.

Admittedly, he only chuckles once at your bold claim, finally turning back to you and letting his eyes glide over your -in comparison- feeble body. And your skin feels on fire as he does, burning through your veins. “And what am I supposed to do with that, little girl?” The taunting way he drags out the words makes your jaw clench, biting back some unsavory words. He might be entertaining you now, but you have no doubt that he’d find getting rid of you as difficult as breathing. Before you can answer, he seems to ripple at the edges right before he vanishes in thin air, landing behind you.

“Seems to me like you’re asking a whole lot and not offering me nearly enough in return.” The heat of his body near yours is enough to almost melt your resolve. You feel small around him, insignificant.

You focus your gaze on the flickering of the candles instead of his presence so close to you, almost enveloping you in his scent, and bite your lip. “I have nothing left to offer you.” He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe, or say anything at all, and it’s this that leaves you so vulnerable. Because he knows this, he must. And the only thing you have left- “My life? Is that what you want?” Your fingers are cold as you reach up to grab your necklace, clinging onto it. “My life for theirs then, that’s fair.”

A huff brushes over the skin of your neck. “You think I want your life? Your life means nothing to me,” he says, walking around you to push out the candles one by one. “You haven’t won any battles, no home, no glory. You have no legacy. You really don’t possess much of anything. I could give a rat’s ass about your life, what I want is repayment.”

“Well, whatever it is you want-” you snap, glaring at his back, “you’ll get. Anything I can give, I’ll give.” You wait intently for his reaction, looking at the swirling tattoos that seem to shine a deep red at this angle. He doesn’t move, and you can feel yourself get antsier by the second. “Whatever you need. Just get everyone that was taken home safely.”

There’s a strange ringing in your ears the longer you wait in the silence, but to your relief, he finally puts you out of your misery when he hums. A soft, gentle sound, it soothes your soul just a little. The tension finally ebbs out of you bit by bit.

“Good,” he grunts, straightening his arms above his head as he stands back to his full size. All the heavy looking charms and bands glint around his biceps in the last of the daylight as he flexes, before he turns and comes to stand in front of you, leaning down to meet you halfway. “You just had to say, little one.” His large hand comes to grab the necklace you’re still clinging to, trembling a little as you let go. This time, his mouth corners flick up the slightest bit as he raises an eyebrow.

“Well?” You blank a little at the closeness, watching the dark lashes and the pretty green sparkle in the dark, smelling his overwhelming scent and the glow of his skin near yours. When his eyes find yours your mouth drops open, and that’s all he needs. He kisses you, hard, taking your head and keeping you close. You’re so surprised you almost don’t react, but when you do, you stumble back and stare at him. Wide eyed. “What?” he frowns though, lifting a brow. “I told you I’m not easily amused by mortals. Deny me again, pet, and it won’t end well.”

“B-But,” you swallow, taking a step back, “I don’t- I didn’t-”

“You said anything. I have no use for you dead so you have to make yourself useful in other ways, don’t you?” As you think, his large hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into his space again, forcing you to look up and kiss him again. And though he tastes good and his warmth travels all over your body, there’s something so heartbreaking about this. Of course that’s what you were offering him. “Not what you were expecting?” he questions, mouth attaching to your jaw, moving down the length of your neck. “Do you think I won’t treat you well?”

His strong hands find your thighs and already start pulling at the clothing there. He breathes deeply, one hand lowering to stroke the skin just above your center. And it’s this that makes you want to hide away from his touch, for more than one reason. You might’ve said anything— but you didn’t know this is what he meant. You didn’t— He rips part of your clothing aside so easily, exposing your belly and thigh. “Týr.”

“Call me Hajime,” he says, cocking an eyebrow as he looks down at you.

You let out a breath, and ball your hands. Who cares about a name right now, you don’t even want this. “Hajime.”

Before you can even get anything out, he grunts, adjusting himself and pulling your pants down more. “Quiet. Stop talking.” He wraps a strong, muscular arm around your body and brings his other hand down between your legs to rub up and down your tiny slit, forcing his fingers into your wetness. At the feeling you bite your lip, not that it stops the whimper. Two of his long fingers push in until he’s knuckle deep, his palm rubbing over your sensitive clit. “You’re tight.” You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to stay out of your head when he adds his lips again, nipping at your collarbone.

This is so fucked up. It’s messed up and you want to kick and scream, but you can’t make your body do anything at all. As he sucks painful bruises into your skin his fingers pump in and out, pulling a hiss from you when his teeth skim over the sensitive spots. His hands move faster until he can smoothly thrust his long fingers deep inside you. And though it does feel good, you already know it’s not enough when he pulls out and slips the digits into his mouth. You’re way too tense. But you don’t know how to start making that clear, because every time you try to talk he glares at you.

He quickly sheds his clothes and pulls off yours as you let him, desperate to change his mind somehow. But you did say anything you can give, and judging by his sharp focus there’s nothing that will get him out of it. He pulls you over to him and kisses you roughly, keeping you close. You suck your lip into your mouth when he lets go and lays down his heavy, fur coat, before he sits down and motions you closer. You hesitate, but he’s not so gentle when he frowns and pulls you toward him this time, making your knees buckle with the force. You swallow. “You made a deal, pretty one. You can’t back out.”

Your wrists have the marks where his fingers have dug into them earlier, and your nerves are killing you. But he’s right. Every new curve, every dip of his skin, every line and scar, exposed to you is painfully beautiful. If you weren’t so painfully unsure right now, you’d be starstruck. He admires your shape for a bit too, before his hand glides over his clothed cock. “Take that off too,” he orders, tilting his head back a bit. So you do, ridding yourself of clothing and being left in the chill of the room. He takes it and tosses it further away.

With a little whimper, you’re yanked on top of him with your knees either side of his strong thighs and your hands splayed out on his stomach. Everything is just so much bigger, it seems skewed in the worst way. His hard length is fully pressed against the inside of your leg where you’re sat, a feeling that makes you gasp. There’s no way he’ll fit. You try to explain that to him- or anything really, as he grabs your face and kisses you deeply, claiming your tongue with his own. When you pull back for air he’s already pulling you higher onto his waist, and the press of his cock between your legs is a shock to your system. So hot it stings, and huge.

“No, Hajime, I can’t. I can’t, it won’t fit,” you try, whining when he forces your hips to roll against his, only a thin piece of clothing left between you two. He lets out a little hum when you try to push off of him, failing miserably. Your one hand is forced down to where your bodies meet, and he grunts.

“And this, off. I’ll make it fit.” His hands get bruising on your hips, only watching as you fumble with the last bit of his clothing and get it out of the way, before he leads your hips to rub up and down his shaft. You’re checked out though, only able to hold yourself back a little and swallow down your hiccups each time the glistening head of his cock rubs against your sensitive clit. ‘Won’t fit,’ you cry again, and he frowns. “I told you I will make it fit, slut. You’re gushing down your thighs for me already,” he hisses, before lifting your hips and maneuvering you over him way too harshly.

He lines up and pushes inside painfully fast, forcing a few inches in and filling you to the hilt as you let out a choked moan. The stretch is so sharp and painful, your body clenching at the feeling. He’s so big. So, so big. The way he fills out your poor walls is almost too much for your body to handle, and you tear up instantly as he bottoms out. “Ah— ahh,” you squeak, ignoring how he paws at your tits and plays with your nipples. Luckily, he does give you a moment to get used to his size, but it’s still not enough to take away the grating feeling of the first few thrusts.

Ever so slowly, he leads your hips up and slides you down his shaft again. The friction makes your body shake and you can barely breathe, your hand finding support on his muscular arm. “Ah- w-no, need more time,” you try to bite through your tears, but he doesn’t care. He thrusts up into your wet walls, well aimed and relentless. And you sniffle and beg, but you both seem to know that you won’t do anything. Can’t do anything.

His thrusts are slow but way too deep, because you’ve barely been stretched and he’s hitting your walls so high in your belly you’re getting lightheaded. His fat cock twitches as he bottoms you out again, bulging your stomach and making you heave over. Your cheeks are wet when you close your eyes, letting him use your body as he pleases. And though the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs against your clit

“Does that hurt, little one?” One hand reaching around to pull your head back by your hair, you whine and cry more, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. “Hah, taking my cock so well. You wanted this, didn’t you? Little pet whoring herself out to a god of all things. You’ve got some -hng- nerve.” Each pump inside you is relentless, as if it’s pushing the air back out of your lungs. You’re gushing all over his lap, white ring forming at the base of his cock each time he forces you back down, with you barely hanging onto your sanity as he picks up the pace even more.

Thighs and balls slapping against you and a sheen of sweat covering your bodies, he grunts deep. “So pretty getting filled up by your master’s cock, look at you. S’ like you were made for this. Made to take my fat cock and get pumped full of cum like a little bitch in heat.” You just whine at his words, no longer able to respond. Your mouth is hung open, and he pushes himself up to pull your face to his and shove his tongue between your lips, humming into it. The wet paps of his cock bottoming out in you seem to echo. “That’s it, you’re my little bitch. Mine to ruin and abuse, right? Say it.”

“M’ yours,” you cry out, taking a few gasped breaths.

The precise thrusts get sloppier and faster the closer he gets to his orgasm, chasing his own with soft grunts and moans. And as his painfully tight grip on your ass gets even more bruising he gets closer and closer, pounding into you until you can feel his balls pull closer to you and his thighs tense. He doesn’t stop though, a choked moan of your name rolling from his lips for the first time tonight. “You’re all mine.” One of his huge hands comes to cup your bouncing breasts while his other comes to rub your clit.

The sharp sounds of your bodies meeting with each pump fills the room, and then, with a few sloppy thrusts, he shoots his hot, wet ropes of cum inside you. The building pressure in your stomach coils down when he moans loudly, the sound almost a song, and pushes you over the edge. You have to rely fully on him to carry you through your orgasm, because your legs give out entirely and you’re left a shaking, limp mess of a person. After a few seconds he allows you to collapse into his arms, cock still inside you while your head rests on his heaving chest.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, just lingering in the silence, before Hajime rolls you to the side and pulls out, wincing mutely at the over stimulation. He leaves you on the floor, but puts a thick, heavy coat over your naked body before he stands up, not that you have the ability to process it anyway. You don’t have the energy to move yourself, let alone care about much else besides the call for sleep and the ache between your legs.

“I’ll be back,” he only says, not bothering to clean you up, “wait here.” You’re too exhausted to comprehend his words, and fall asleep almost right away.

+

You wake up with a startle when something taps your foot, shooting back a little. It’s already bright out, eyes fluttering to adjust to the clarity of the sky outside the windows. You don’t feel rested at all, you’re cold and your joints feel so sore, but there’s a strange peace over your mind. One that another impatient kick to your foot disrupts very easily. “Come, little one.”

With a pout, your manage to squint up at him, only to fall completely silent as he reaches out a hand. He’s covered in thick coats of blood, on his arms, chest, thighs. It even got splattered on his face. There’s a gash in his eyebrow that you’re sure will scar at least a little, but he doesn’t look bothered. At the very least, not when he helps you up from the floor, placing the pendant in your free hand.

You’re very relieved to find that you’re already wearing your clothes again, and though you’re fairly certain you didn’t put them on yourself, you’re just glad not to be naked in front of him right now. Your legs are still extremely weak. But here’s a deep sense of responsibility that nags at you. “What happened? Are you— okay?” you start, and he barely moves to glance over his shoulder.

“It’s not my blood.” That’s not what you asked though. He must sense your upset, because he pulls you a bit closer by your wrist to lean down to you. This time it feels less patronizing and more like an offer of peace, meeting you halfway to brush his fingers under your jaw ever so softly. But still. “I’ll be alright, stop worrying.” He holds your chin a bit longer as he assesses you, before finally leaning in further before you manage to pull back.

In the light of day it’s even more apparent that the man before you isn’t like any other person you’ve seen before, from head to toe radiating an air of confidence and security that you can’t shake no matter how much you try. But you also can’t help but feel guilty being this close to him while he’s still covered in drying blood, sticking to your skin and tinting his hands. There’s nothing casual about what just happened, what you can only imagine took place. People have died for this.

People have died because of you. But the light, righteous way he goes about it is probably what you should’ve expected from a god. “Your life for theirs is what you said, right? There’s nothing that guarantees that they are happy with your sacrifice. I hope it was worth it.”

“It was.”

He sighs, irises catching the light with a glint as he straightens up before you, having you tilting your head all the way back. “If you regret your decision later on, don’t come blaming me. This was your promise, not mine.” He eyes you down, then runs his palm up your neck to your cheek. So easily able to hold and caress you. It’d be sweet if not for the way he had and fucked you last night, leaving you in tears. It’s not even an uphill battle anymore.

“And even if you do, you’re mine. You’re mine or nothing at all.” You’ve roped yourself into a lifetime of sacrifice for your family. All you can hope is that they’ll remember you for it. He leans down to kiss your forehead, before pulling you close to him. His lips also glide along your ear and lay a few kisses there, before he speaks. “If you try to run anywhere, I’ll snap that pretty neck of yours myself. That’s a promise, little one.”

Soft clouds of white still leave his lips with every exhale in the crisp air up so high, leaving you mentally wrecked when he pulls back. Despite everything pointing to his lack of humanity, there’s something so strangely, absolutely recognizable about him when he’s so close to you. His temper, lack of tact and the jealousy already burning under his skin are too familiar. Human, warm and real. Though you don’t illusion yourself relating to a god, of all things.

seijoh x f!reader

request: fem!reader is at a Halloween party and is dressed up as a cat, complete with a collar and a tag that says ‘your name here.’ she’s knocking back drinks and flirting with Oikawa and Iwa, when Oikawa takes her upstairs, all of the Seijoh 3rd years coat her. tags: dubcon, alcohol, facials

“get on your back, baby,” oikawa commands, and your world tilts as you drunkenly topple onto the floor, rolling around happily as you look up at your two favourite men.

“pretty, aren’t you?” iwaizumi chuckles, watching your flushed face from his position above you.

you nod dazedly, smiling brightly at them. in your stupor you start to undo the ties at the front of your shirt, exposing your breasts. you giggle when you see the bulge in their pants, the hunger in their eyes. you suck your finger into your mouth.

“you can come in now, guys,” oikawa suddenly says, and you realize he’s not talking to you.

your eyes are heavy, but you manage to lift them enough to see matsukawa and hanamaki walk into the room. they glance at you, and instead of greeting you, they smirk at oikawa and iwaizumi.

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Soak

yandere!stepbrother!Bokuto x f!reader

Anonymous request: Hello! Could a make a request for a small fic with yandere!stepbrother!bokuto x female!reader where he’s making her take a bath with him and it’s all kinda wholesome until he starts to get aroused and then fucks her in the bathtub?🥺👉👈 Maybe make it kinda non-con-y, pretty please? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to:) have a good day!

a/n: thank you for your request! But a small fic? I cannot for the life of me write anything short… Please forgive me! It’s mostly smut though, with not as much plot. Which is new for me and makes me a little nervous. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Warnings and tags: smut, yandere themes, delusional mindset, stepcest (pseudo-incest), noncon/rape, ruined orgasm

You sigh blissfully when you sink into the tub. Warmth immediately spreads through your body, melting away your worries. The knots in your shoulders loosen and the steam rising up from the bubbly water’s surface dampens your face. The sweet, flowery smell of soap floods your senses.

You close your eyes and smile contentedly. It’s been a stressful week at college and you’re glad to have come home to an empty house for the weekend. So you allow yourself a little alone time. Something you hardly do anymore, with your nosy roommates always around.

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Imagine getting split up in a haunted house with your friends. It starts off with the typical jumpscares as the actors do their job well.

You're wondering down a smoke filled hall full of flashing led lights. Fake blood is smeared on the walls and cobwebs are on the ceiling. You're still giggling from the way your friend shrieked the moment you all stepped in.

Looking around, you shuddered a little bit as you walked past a guy in clown makeup lying on the floor with a slash across his chest, blood pouring around him. Practical effects are getting so realistic these days, you thought to yourself.

You're so distracted as cheesy horror music still plays in the background that you don't notice a tall figure standing there until you run into them.

Tilting your head back, your eyes go wide as you see a man in a mask towering over you.

"Sorry." You smiled awkwardly as you took a step back to get away, and you see he's wearing black jeans, a white wife beater splattered in red, and holding on to what (you hope) is a fake axe. He easily towers over you.

The man stays silent, making the atmosphere feel more tense. He's tall and muscular, and you can only see his eyes peaking down at you from underneath the mask. He definitely fit the role of a haunt actor.

"Wow." You laughed nervously as you stepped to the side. "You're like, really in character, huh?"

The man stays silent as he turns and watches you rush past him, and you swear you can hear him chuckle as you turn the corner.

Chills ran down your spine as you started to wander around, feeling like someone was watching you, but every time you turned around to check, nobody was there. Frustration started to build up as you hut nothing but dead ends.

Sure, it was fun at first, with the occasional jumpscare popping out at you that would make flinch, then laugh at yourself for letting it get to you. But your phone had no reception and you were losing track of time.

This was getting ridiculous, you thought to yourself as you looked around for someone to ask for help to get out of there. You hoped your friends were having a better time than you were.

Once you reached the next dead end, you nearly screamed in frustration, ready to yank your hair out until you saw the same masked man from the corner of your eye.

"Okay." You sighed as you walked over to him. "Haha, you got me. Can you please help me get out of here now?"

The man stays silent, but his eyes are trained on you as he lowers his head to look down at you.

You rolled your eyes as he stayed in character, watching the blood drip off of the axe he was casually holding onto.

It wasn't until you got closer to him that the heavy metallic scent hit you. A chill ran down your spine, true terror running through your veins as you looked down at his weapon, noticing how sharp it really was. A real weapon, not allowed in haunts like this one.

Suddenly, the fun little jumpscares weren't so fun anymore. This man wasn't a haunt actor at all.

Your face paled as you remembered the dead clown that you'd passed by earlier. The actor that would've been the one to scare you a few times before helping you reunite with your friends at the exit. But he was really dead.

And now you were stuck here with him. An actual killer.

As if reading your thoughts, he grabbed your chin and pulled you against him. You were shaking as he leaned down, lowering his head to whisper in your ear.

"Run." He growled lowly before letting go of your chin and stepping back.

You didn't have to be told twice, immediately running away from him.

Suddenly, the smoke felt too heavy, the music was too loud, the deep red led lights that filled the rooms only added to your terror, and the animatronics they had to jump out at you only made you more overwhelmed.

You were nearly ready to cry as you turned around and saw the masked man casually walking towards you in typical horror movie slasher style.

Then you heard the sound of distant laughter. It sounded like your friends chatting with each other.

A wave of hope went through you as you ran over to the wall and started banging against it, screaming at the top of your lungs.

"Help!" You yelled out as loud as you could as you slapped your hands against the walls. "Please, help! He-"

You shrieked as a hand suddenly grabbed ahold of your hair and pushed you onto the cold ground.

The masked man throws his axe to the side as he climbs on top of you, making you look into his eyes.

He laughs wickedly, pressing himself against you as he tightens his grip on your hair. You screamed and cried, trying to push him off you as you feel his hard on rub against your thigh, cock straining against his jeans.

"Scream all you want." He grinned as he pulled his mask up, feeling his breath fanning against your lips. "Everyone will think it's all part of the show."

i feel like i died a very long time ago and now nothing thats happening is real

tfw you trained so hard so that titans won't be able to kill you only to find out that it'll be a kid who'll end up finishing your existence

Anything (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: NSFW, dry humping, making out, implied oral (male receiving), my shitty writing because it’s been a minute.

Summary: This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you said you would do anything if Tsukishima tutored you. Although, you definitely weren’t complaining at this point. 

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Oh hey guys. I back! Here is some trash. I hope you enjoy it, I’m a tad bit rusty on my writing skills since I took a long ass break lmao. That was not intentional so I apologize for just leaving like I did. Life got in the way with some pretty big stuff happening in my life so yay much excite! 

Anyway, here you go! Let me know what you think and it’s good to be back!

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