night terror

spd!kageyama tobio x reader | w.c 1.2k

a/n: admittedly not my finest banner work but i am what the kids would call a touch lazy,, anyways i’ve had this fic done since nov 2021 but here i am,, this was indeed for the damned collab but i’ve fallen off the face of the earth between then and now <3

—18+ dark content minors dni —

warnings: ok noncon, but leans towards dubcon, hinted breakup, feelings of longing/heartbreak (bc ya know it’s not a miki-tobio fic if i don’t make it hurt in some way) sleep paralysis, this is monster fucking lmao, a touch of fear for flavor

Hot.

It’s far too hot.

For a moment you consider kicking off the layers of blankets weighing you down, yet the notion is immediately dismissed when the rigidness of your body becomes clearer to your sleep-ridden mind. At most you can feel your fingers and toes twitch just slightly, stuck laid out on your back buried under blankets with a perfect view of your door cracked open.

The door that begins to creak on its hinges, startling you even further out of your tired trance. The door that you swear you had shut nice and tight just before bed.

Long fingers emerge from the darkness, tracing along the edge of the polished wood, pushing it open little by little.

Tobio?

It couldn’t be, he’s over a thousand miles away and you haven’t spoken in months but the outline of the shadow emerging from behind the door is far too familiar to be anyone else.

His name sits at the tip of your tongue, ready to slip out. Yet you can’t, that invisible force keeping you from uttering the simplest of names. The scorching heat of being smothered by the layers of blankets only fueling the building panic coursing through your veins.

The figure emerges fully from the pitch black, the sliver of moonlight peaking through your curtains barely illuminating the stranger. You want to yell out, so desperately, too many words build in your chest. Yet your body still proves unforgivable, only allowing something akin to a pitiful squeak to escape from you.

Slowly the shadow of a man creeps across the room, the groan of your floorboards under his weight allowing you to have some idea of where he is in your room.

Run, scream, something, anything.

The thought pauses, for just a second, swearing that it really is him, your Tobio.

He hunches over you with jerking motions, it’s wrong, it’s all wrong. The sapphire of his eyes you’ve adored for so long are replaced by a strange mottled ruby, the sharp lines of his face crude, taunting you, it’s him but it’s not.

You can’t move, can’t speak, a prisoner of your bed, of your own body. A shadowy hand reaches towards you, a frigid palm settling against your cheek.

Tears well in your eyes, yet they don’t seem to spill, just as frozen in place like the rest of you.

His —It’s— mouth clicks open, a strangled groan tearing through the stale air.

You swear you hear your name buried in there, or maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you to keep some semblance of your sanity intact. Frozen fingers drag down your cheek, goosebumps erupting across your flesh.

“Nnn.” It’s all you can manage, a weak protest as those cold digits drag across your jaw, moving down to land on your throat. Replacing well manicured nails are gangly, sharp blackened ones, scraping over the cold sweat breaking out and drenching your body.

There’s a stronger twitch in your fingers, leaving you foolish enough to believe you’re breaking out from this horrific predicament. The hope snuffed the moment the freezing digits clamp down on your shoulder, nails tearing through the old, stolen Adlers practice shirt.

Stop.

Hot tears manage to spill, burn down your cheeks, your mind begging and begging your body to do something, anything, to escape from this horrifying moment. Tobio, Tobio, Tobio, his name becomes a prayer, a beacon of hope that he’ll somehow appear in place of this crude proxy.

Yet the nightmare only furthers as you feel a dip in your bed, a weight pressing against your side pushing you further into the swath of blankets. Only making bile rise in your throat and anxiety muddling your consciousness further.

“I-I’m ‘m ho-hom-e.” The demon croaks into your ear, deep and ragged just like Tobio would after a draining late practice. And for a moment an image of him flashes in your mind, once more taunting you than bringing a feeling of comfort.

No.

“M-Mis-sed you.” This is too cruel, your mind supplies, tears continuing to cloud your vision as you feel your cotton underwear drag down your hips, inching down almost painfully.

Again your brain supplies all the memories of moments like these, your beloved Tobio coming home after you’ve long fallen asleep, sneaking into bed and snaking his arms around you. His wandering hands bring warmth, filling your heart with love and adoration.

None of that is here in this moment, this terrifying caricature bastardizing what was a heartwarming ritual, pumping your veins with dread and most of all, a heart wrenching sadness.

And just like Tobio would, lips, though chapped and cold, skim along your cheek down to your jaw. They move as if whispering the sweet nothings you’d expect, caressing along your jaw lovingly.

Finally you’re able to shut your eyes, yet there is no escaping from this monster, the frigid air surrounding him consumes you. He slots himself between your thighs, forcing them to fall apart and accommodate him. Your chest heaves and stutters with a sob as something blunt and impossibly hot prods at your bare cunt.

“Pretty-tt-tty.” Those cold hands slip under your shirt, one staying planted on your waist as the other crawls up to squeeze at your tits, sharp nails tapping and scraping at your sternum.

No prep, no warning as he impales you with his torrid cock, that same dry heat ripping through your body and practically negating the freezing air surrounding the two of you. It hurts, it should hurt, your mind once again begs your body to listen, to hate this sensation and this monster.

But it feels good, it feels too good as he burns at your inside, brands it’s, his cock against the twitching walls of your cunt, carving his place, his right to be there.

Your eyes flutter open, vision still blurred and ruby turns to sapphire back to ruby, flickering back and forth, but what do you care when you can pretend that it’s him. Without any thought your arms come to life and you throw them around broad, shadowy shoulders.

None of it’s right, not the way your hands splay against awfully cold, rippling muscles, or the feeling of his face nuzzling into your shoulder, ragged breaths and a clicking sound pouring into your ears.

It’s not him, each drag of it’s cock only solidifying that notion.

He’s not coming home, you whine at a particularly rough thrust.

You miss him, as sharp nails pierce your skin.

“L..ove…l-love yo-u.” The monster croaks again and your mind unconsciously supplies the response of love you more. The phrase escapes from your lips as something between a choked moan and a sob.

Somewhere between that final, ruthless, thrust and hot cum pouring into your cunt, your body shakes with a shameful orgasm, his name finally escaping your lips as darkness clouds your vision.

You jolt awake, the sunlight blinding you for a moment as you try to stretch away the stiffness in your joints. There’s a heat in your chest and cheeks as bits of your dream from last night invade your muddled, morning thoughts.

Pointedly you avoid the mirror of your vanity, too ashamed to even look at your own reflection, leaving you blissfully unaware of the bruises scattering your body for just a little longer.