𝓑𝓲𝓷𝓭 S. Aizawa

Chapter 89 | You're Weak

I thought to react, and kick him, but something subdued me, making me watch.

He led my left hand to gently caress his jaw, perhaps accidentally, before taking both my hands and settling them at his neck.

My face was already a deep red, but my eyebrows were high in confusion as my stomach started to flip.

He took his hands and rode up from my wrists to the back of my hands, bending my fingers to clamp around his neck. The soft caress from his hands to the back of mine was enough to give me anger for years. Maybe even orgasms for years.

What is he even doing?

He let his hands trail back around my wrists then ride up my arm, settling at my elbows. I shivered, my hands sitting pretty loose on his neck.

He stared me in the eye,

"End this."

Hold on, what? Does he want me to kill him? What the hell is he talking about? I don't want to kill him, I just want to hurt him. What is going on?

"What the fuck, Aizawa? I'm not going to fucking kill you." I spat out in disbelief.

"Do it. I know you can." He whispered, closing his eyes, basking in the glow of the light above us. "I know you have it in you."

"No what-" I stuttered, trying to take my hands away from his throat.

He had a grip on my elbows, pushing at them to make sure I couldn't let go of his neck.

"Come on." He clicked his tongue, his eyes gently closed shut. "You want to."

"Aizawa, no." I shouted, appalled he would ever assume I'd want to do this.

"One more chance." He told me, trailing circles over my elbow, which I tried to ignore.

What the fuck is going on? All I wanted to do was hit him, killing is a whole different thing. There's gotta be something he's trying to do here. He's bluffing, fucking with me.

My fingernails were digging into his neck, not hard, but not softly.

"I said no." I spat out, extremely confused.

He didn't open his eyes as his scarf quickly struck out. He let go of my elbows as his scarf wrapped around me, pinning my arms at my sides. The scarf had quickly wrapped around my body.

Do I even want to punch him anymore? What's going on? Aizawa opened his eyes and I looked up at him in horror. Blood had stopped dribbling down his chin but his cheekbone was red and angry. His eyes were hooded and promising things I couldn't keep up with.

"You're weak." He mocked condescendingly, grabbing me by my shoulders and pushing me so hard into my apartment room I fell to the ground, sliding.

I slid on my ass with an 'umpf', watching as he slowly walked in. He closed the door behind him, unhurried. His shoes clacking on the ground as he stared down at me, tilting his head. His black, long hair was framing his face and just barely going past his shoulders. His biceps and pecs strained against the tight white shirt he wore. I ignored my handiwork on his bicep and trailed my eyes down his body. His jeans were low but not entirely low waisted, just enough that if I shifted a little I could see his happy trail, and maybe a little of his V-line. I pulsated, nervous and oblivious to what was even happening, or going to happen.

He lowered into a squat, hovering above my legs. I struggled in the scarf, an almost scratchy, but very soft fabric.

He made intense eye contact, I stared at his face, which wasn't angry. More just staring openly at my face, tiredly.

He grabbed me up by the sides of my shoulders, lifting me then throwing me against the door. My right cheek slammed against the surface, as my stomach touched the door. Holy shit he's strong as hell.

I gasped and winced loudly. I tried to look back but then he slammed my head back onto the door. I almost screamed, that fucking hurt.

"Douchebag." I breathed out onto the door.

He pressed himself up against me, with his hand still on the back of my head, holding me in place.

"How many chances did I give you?" He asked, closer than he should be right now.

"What?" I ask, confused, it's not like I was counting, I didn't even know what was going on.

"How many chances did I give you?" He repeated, pushing me further into the door, squishing my cheek upon the cold surface.

"I don't know." I answered nervously, my mind going blank and my body giving into submission.

The scarf tightened as he leaned, further pressing into me, I tried not to moan,

"Enough." Aizawa caressed in words.

I winced when the scarf tightened around my arms, hurting them.

"I gave you enough." His body was hot against mine and I could feel the contours of his hard body melding with my back. "Why didn't you?"

"Are you joking?" I breathed out. "I wasn't going to fucking kill you."

"It would have made everything so much easier." He almost whined.

"What?" I started to almost get scared. What the hell is this freak talking about?

"I didn't want to do this, really." He crooned, fear growing larger in me. "Well, no, I do."

"Aizawa-"

"An eye for an eye." He stated, sounding a little like he wanted to laugh, leaning in to my ear.

"You deserve it anyway." He was almost whispering now, and I had to remind myself not to lean into him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to reject that line from lingering within me.

"What?" I huffed, dumbfounded at what was going on.

"Shut up." Aizawa commanded.

I closed my mouth, not knowing what else to say.

He still kept his hand on the back of my head. With the other, he started to gently pull my hair back. He pulled it and slid it to the other side of my shoulder. I tightly closed my eyes, he was inches away from eliciting a murmur of pleasure from me.

He used his hand pressing on the back of my head to tilt my head to the side, exposing my throat.

He kept silent for a bit, then pointed and touched the skin. My heart leapt out of my throat, and his touch sent shivers up my neck.

"Here." He whispered, his presence felt entirely.

The touch made me startle, his hands were a type of cold-warm.

"What?" I asked for the millionth, scared, but almost turned on.

Wish I wasn't, but I can't help it.

"I told you, quiet." He whispered, low, pulling my head from the door by my hair, then slamming my cheek back into it.

I winced, loudly, my cheek growing hot and stinging.

"Shhh." He whispered so close to my ear his breath stroked the outer part of it.