#takanobu aone x femreader

Worth the sacrifice. [Takanobu Aone]
└➤(@thicksimpx)omertà collabsubmission.

haikyuu! mafia au, afrofuturism + dark dystopia.
fem!reader, explicitly pocand chubby coded — size kink, forced marriage; marriage of convenience, oral «f!receiving», service!top, pleasure!dom.

minimal proofreadingandediting.
reblogs and comments appreciated! ♡

It was surreal, standing next to your future ‘husband’, practically a stranger.

The matrons’ advisor had insisted that Aone had taken a liking to you, hushed whispers about how he was unbelievably shy during the pre-marriage preparations.

Her source being his fellow gang members had you questioning that though.

He was all height and lean muscle, towering over you. Short white hair, eyebrows missing, and face pulled into a constant scowl.

An acidic feeling of anxiety bubbled up to your throat, nervous fingers fiddling with the velvet dress smothering your curves, more of an average dress than a wedding gown.

An acidic feeling of anxiety bubbled up to your throat, nervous fingers fiddling with the velvet dress smothering your curves, more of an average dress than a wedding gown.

A dress he had chosen for you.

“You will receive equal power to your husband and the freedom to make substantial choices—” spoke Mr. Akaashi, a supposed lawyer from Date Techs’ ally gang, all dressed up in a sharp suit and matching glasses.

Nothing more than static in the background of your mind, ringing so deafeningly loud.

“—however to follow the traditional values of Date Tech, you may only do so with your husbands’ permission.”

Oblivious to the sharp eyes glancing over towards you, simply watching your reaction or the lack of one, observant gaze noticing your fidgeting.

Aone stared back at the marriage form in front of him, placing his hand on the curve of your lower back.

Sneaking glances to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable, your honeyed eyes just watched his other hand, pen so unnervingly small.

Fingers nearly double the size of yours, clean trimmed nails, near-invisible hairs decorating his skin and prominent veins disappearing under his sleeves.

Signing the paperwork, before placing his thumb onto some ink and pressing it to the paper, black fingerprint left behind in its wake.

Pulled from your thoughts when he holds the pen to you, that warm hand on your back squeezing when you look up at him.
Dark eyes searching yours, head tilting slightly.

“Sorry,” barely a whisper, before you dutifully sign the document. Manicured thumb dirtied and pressed onto the empty spot next to his.

“Very good, everything is done here, happy marriage and all that.” Mr. Akaashi concluded in a monotone, yet polite voice. Fixing his glasses as he sorted the documents into his briefcase and bid his farewells.

Night came quicker than expected, your newlywed ‘husband’ disappearing within an hour of your marriage, summoned by his leader.

Not that he told you he was summoned, let alone spoke to you, silent during the whole ordeal.

Hours later, Aone stood at the doorway to his room, your back to him while you sat on his king-sized bed.

Agoddess in his room.

Eyes lingering on your russet complexion and dewy post-shower skin, damp ringlets forming and body covered in one of his baggy shirts.

A sweet feeling of pride flooded him, seeing you in something of his.

Black oxfords made their way into your vision, your attention shifting from his expensive tailored suit and fine gold, until you met his gaze.

Pale hand grabbed yours, his other hand swiftly placing the plain gold ring on your finger, coming to a comfortable fit.
Your hands caressed his, brown eyes following your every move as soft lips press against the chunky square ring adorning his thumb.

Something you were instructed to do in the pre-wedding preparations, another one of their traditions.

Ring engraved in the insignia of Date Tech, his gang ring, so cold on your lips.

Calloused thumb runs across your bottom lip, thick appendage dipping into your mouth, stopping at his ring.

Juicy lips wrapped around his finger, languorously sucking on him, tongue rubbing the pad of his thumb.

Wet thumb slipping from your lips, a string of spit hung between you, bringing his digit to his mouth and sucking it dry.

Ghosted touch sliding down your shoulders, goosebumps prickle your skin as he drifts down, lingering at your fingertips and interlocking his hands with yours.

You’re pushed down, back against his silk covers.

Hands moving to your waist, soft kisses decorated your collar bone and down between your clothed breasts.
Small hands clutching into his broad shoulders, overshadowing you, so unbelievably big.

Aone stopped at the hem of your shirt, legs caught in a secure grip and knees pressing into your tummy.

Unreadable glare, eyes stuck on your crotch, position causing your fat little pussy to spill over the sides of your panties.

“Stop staring,” you scolded him, lightly smacking him on the head.

The icy haired man chuckled, a soft masculine laugh surprising you.

Large head snuggled between your legs, opened-mouth kisses leaving your inner thighs damp. Blunt teeth nipping at your flesh, while his hands massage your hips.

You squeak, feeling small warm kisses on your outer labia, heart pounding in your ears.
Panties pushed to one side, wide tongue plunging into your slick pussy, deliciously slow licks along your folds.

Licks halting right before he reaches your clit, piercing eyes staring up at you, almost teasingly.

Masculine mouth latching onto your inner lips, softly suckling long one side before moving to the other, his fingers playing with your clit hood.

Building you up until you’re so close, practically sobbing for him to touch your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Aone, oh my fuckin’ god, hurry up!” His eyes glittering at your cries, pausing and quirking a missing eyebrow at you — silence while you racked your brain, anything to make him continue. “Please?”

Seemingly what he wanted, pulling back your hood and placing a delicate peck right there.

Your reward.

His lips wrapping around your clit and sucking, nice and soft. Fat thighs clamping around his head, Aone feels like he’s suffocating and fuck, does he love it.

Pussy clenching around nothing, lower stomach pulsating in gentle anguish, you’re cumming so hard with his nose buried in your curls.

Aone getting to his feet, sodden patch against his pristine suit pants. Sharp eyes on your fucked out form, panting and lost in a post-orgasm cloud.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Thumping music did nothing but amplify your foul mood, vivid lights and the sweet smell of vanilla incense.

Getting your pussy eaten by a man, correction — by your ‘husband’, only to have him disappear for weeks was not your idea of a perfect marriage.

“Should’ve at least thanked me or something…” You huffed under your breath, freshly manicured nails tapping against the countertop.

“Um,” a sheepish woman caught your attention, looking downright nervous. “There’s, uh, a guy wanting to see you? He’s in the VIP room four, should I… send him away?”

Speak of the devil.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll see to it.”

Leaving your place from behind the bar, kitten heels tapped on the tiled flooring, snaking your way through the bustling club and into the VIP section.

Aone looked awkward.

Knees nearly up to his chest, too big for the love seat, pale skin and white hair only made him seem more out of place in the crimson room.

His head tilted to the side, just waiting for you to say something after you locked the door.

“Hi.”

Brows raised, happily patting his leg.

You rolled your eyes, walking to him and gently setting yourself down on his hard thighs. Feet dangling as you sit in his lap, beefy arms wrapped around your waist.

“You look lovely today,” his voice quiet and pleasant, barely above a whisper, his words feeling like a secret between youandhim.

Heart plummeting to your pussy, the traitor.

“I’m still upset you left without saying anything,” you clutch his wrists, levelling him with a stern look, “that was fucked up, Aone.”

“M’sorry,” your ‘husband’ uttered, hand holding yours as warm kisses decorated your knuckles.

Silence, unnervingly awkward silence.

“You don’t talk much do you?”

Scowl hardening, confusion clouded his eyes, words slow to leave his throat. “Don’t like sayin’ things that aren’t important or necessary.”

“And complementing me is important and necessary?” You asked, soft laughter filling the room.

“Of course.” Aone sounded dead serious, looking almost bewildered that you even questioned that.

You traced his lips, vibrant nail polish contrasting against his skin. Hot tongue wetting your fingertips, then sucking your two middle fingers into his mouth.

Lazily sucking on them the same way he did your clit.
Lidded eyes gazing at you through long lashes, soaking in your cute little expressions.

Words tumbling from you, so fast you thought you’d choke on them. “Prove it then — prove that you’re sorry. Make it worthmy sacrifice, Takanobu.”

Corners of his mouth slightly upturned, eyes crinkling and scowl less prominent, face as luminescent as the sun.

He smiled.