osita-iza
o s i t a i z a
22 || they/them sideblog || mdni || i write when i'm horny or high || live like dionysus
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The Good Times Are Killing Me
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BDS's Korean branch has approved of the ongoing boycott against Kpop giant HYBE Labels. This is because of HYBE's collaboration with Scooter Braun, a known zionist, and their launching of the concert movie "D-Day" in Israel. Groups under HYBE Labels include:
BTS
Seventeen
Tomorrow X Together
New Jeans
Le Sserafim
ILLIT
Enhyphen
Fromis_9
BoyNextDoor
Do not stream or buy merchandise for any of these groups, or any other artists under HYBE!
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Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.
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Reblog for a larger sample size!
No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.
I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.
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not to be controversial bc I know this is like…not in line with shifting opinions on fanfic comment culture but if there’s a glaring typo in my work I will NOT be offended by pointing it out. if ao3 fucks up the formatting…I will also not be offended by having this pointed out…
‘looking forward to the next update’ and ‘I hope you update soon!’ are different vibes than a demand, and should be read in good faith because a reader is finding their way to tell you how much they love it. I will not be mad at this.
‘I don’t usually like this ship but this fic made me feel something’ is also incredibly high praise. I’m not going to get mad at this.
even ‘I love this fic but I’m curious about why you made [x] choice’ is just another way a reader is engaging in and putting thought into your work.
I just feel like a lot of authors take any comment that’s not perfectly articulated glowing praise in the exact manner they’re hoping to receive it in bad faith.
fic engagement has been dropping across the board over the last several years, and yes it’s frustrating but it isn’t as though I can’t see how it happens. comment anxiety can be a real thing. the last thing anyone wants to do is offend an author they love, and that means sometimes people default to silence.
idk where I’m going with this I guess aside from saying unless a comment is outright attacking me I’m never going to get mad at it, and I think a lot of authors should feel the same way. ESPECIALLY TYPOS PLZ GOD POINT OUT MY TYPOS.
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sentence until I can write again
Atsumu dated a hairdresser once out of Highschool, during one bad fight the hairdresser went on a tirade about his hair, and that’s why it looks better than in Highschool.
#god i would die if during a fight my partner just throws out of left field#AND YOUR HAIRS UGLY#like 😭😭😭
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I love you sassy reader I love you meek reader I love you slutty reader I love you virgin reader I love you reader with an insane background I love you reader who's inserted into Canon I love you Mary sues I love you poorly disguised self insert
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thinking about katsuki finding out about that little crush you had on shouto since seeing close-ups of him during the televised sports festival—you were in high school then, too.
he shouldn’t care about it because it doesn’t matter, it was so long ago and shouto’s always been marketed as the pro-hero pretty boy—consistently top 3 most handsome, the front cover of magazines, all that.
this is to be expected, it’s what everyone’s been tempted to react like.
but since finding out, he’s been stewing in… in whatever this bubbling, throbbing feeling in his head means. he’s snappier than normal, face scrunched up more than usual.
and every time he sees shouto he wants to strangle the hell out of him.
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𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍
—cw: fem!reader, edging, overstim, spitting.
Men who have their arms locked on your thighs, making sure your pussy is easily accessible to their tongue. they don't start right away, but gaze at it. your heat melting in juices, flowing and staining the sheet underneath. they breathe over it, to tease it even more and she flutters in need. warm air grazing the skin enough to make it squirm but not enough to chase that high.
To make it more wet, more messy, they gather the saliva in their mouth before spitting on it, watching the translucent drop trail down and fusing with your juices. A wide smile appears on their face when they realize the effect it has on you, making your face heat up and your thighs squirm in his arms. but they're locked up. he's got it locked up so he could enjoy this pretty movie without any intermissions.
When they finally decide to give you the sweet satisfaction of having their tongue lap on your pussy, it comes with a price. There's no way you could win in anything when it comes to them. It's either craving their touch, or begging them to stop from the overstimulation. They are mean. They don't stick to a single pace. Instead, they start out slow, savouring all your heat on their tongue, then get fast making you a moaning mess and you scream—beg for them to keep going. you're close. but they change it back to being slow, depriving your pussy of it's climax. you cry and cry and cry. but they're doing this for you because,
when they actually give you the satisfaction—after what it feels like hours—you are gripping his hair, pushing him further in your pussy and jerking your hips forward at the same time. fuck does it feel so good. you're crying, moaning and screaming their name at the same time in multiple repetitions that has their dick jump up and slap against their abs and spluttered cum on it. shit. am i ruining her or is she ruining me?
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thinking about my favorite tsukishima brother, akiteru （╹◡╹）♡
the love of my life, the wind beneath my wings, the brother of my nemesis
18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
tags: not actually smutty but certainly suggestive, mention of daddy kink, mention of degradation kink, mention of an orthodontic device
word count: 1k
You love Akiteru.
Really, you do.
He's kind, considerate, and incredibly sweet.
He cares for you and tells you often, but more than that he shows you in the things he does. He brings you home flowers just because he saw them and thought of you. He always picks up your favourite pastry from the bakery down the road when he sees it in the window on his way home from work.
He's remarkably attentive, he's patient when you're feeling argumentative and never holds your shortcomings against you, and listens to you always--when you talk about your day, or your hobbies, or just whatever you feel like talking about, and no topic is treated with any less attention than the last.
You wouldn't change him for the world, and you love him.
But sometimes it feels like the two of you are closer to middle-aged than barely out of your twenties, with your whole lives still ahead of you.
And nothing quite drives the point home more than the night where, halfway through sex, Akiteru takes your face in his hand, turns it up towards him and says:
"Honey, you forgot to put your retainer in."
You stay awake for hours thinking about it afterwards, with Aki snoring quietly beside you none the wiser, his long legs tangled with yours.
You stare up at the tasteful beige ceiling over your head as you succumb to the spiral of your thoughts, seconds and minutes and hours ticking agonizingly past, wondering when the hell you'd gotten so boring.
(And yes, you'd put in your retainer at Akiteru's insistence.)
The next morning you wake up, groggy and unrested though you may be, and you're still at a complete loss as to how your life had gotten to where it was, and what the hell you were supposed to do about it.
When you shuffle out to the kitchen in your slippers and your housecoat, Akiteru is already dressed and making breakfast.
“Good morning,” he says, “I was just about to come and wake you.”
You make some sort of noise to signify that you've heard him and return his greeting, without the use of proper words. You open the fridge to grab some milk to set about preparing your morning coffee.
Akiteru seems to anticipate what you’re doing before you’ve even picked up the carton.
“I got a new kind of coffee at the store yesterday.” If Akiteru notices your sour mood he says nothing of it, turning his omelet over in the pan. “It’s supposed to be less acidic so it should be a bit easier on your tummy.”
The fridge door slams closed with a little more force than you intend, but you find it strangely satisfying.
“Are you okay?” Akiteru asks, watching as you set the carton of milk down with an equal vigour to the way you’d shut the refrigerator.
You hum a flat, noncommittal noise.
Akiteru’s gaze is heavy on your face, tracing along the lines of your profile from where he stands at the stove. He extinguishes the burner in front of him, sliding his omelet onto the plate he has waiting, and then turns to face you properly.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I slept fine.” It’s the first time you speak, and your voice is still a little crackly from sleep but unmistakably curt.
“Are you sure?” he presses, his brow creasing in concern. “You seem a little grumpy.”
“I said I’m fine,” you say, and though it’s not quite a snap you’re evidently irritated and it seeps into your words.
“You don’t need to take that tone with me,” Akiteru says calmly, if not a little bit chastising.
“What are you my dad?” you say with a mirthless laugh. “You gonna send me to my room next?”
You turn to face your boyfriend.
Your sweet, unassuming, incredibly vanilla boyfriend.
Your boyfriend, who is only ever looking out for you.
Your boyfriend, who is currently flushing so red in the face that even the tips of his ears are burning.
You pause, the opened carton of milk held aloft in one hand and the cap in the other.
You blink at Akiteru, at the way he shies away while you look at him, like he doesn’t want you to examine him too closely.
Who looks mortified at the way he’s reacting.
Who looks horny.
“Oh my god,” you breathe the words, “did you get off on that?”
“What?” Akiteru’s voice is nearly an entire octave higher than it had been a moment prior when he finally stutters out his reply. “No! Of course not!”
“Oh my god,” you repeat yourself, your suspicions all but confirmed. You set the carton of milk down and stalk towards him, and he instinctively backs himself into the counter upon your approach.
Akiteru looks like he wants the tiled floor to open and swallow him whole as you crane up on your tiptoes towards him, getting in his face. Your fingers twist into the material of his t-shirt.
“Aki,” you simper. “Did you like it when I called you dad?”
He shakes his head back and forth, but his eyes are fixed on the way your lips part in a knowing little smile.
“Would you like it better if I called you daddy?”
Akiteru takes your face in his hands, his touch warm against your cheeks.
“Baby, stop,” he pleads, his voice strained.
“Then tell me you don’t like it,” you say breathily.
“I don’t, I-“ he swallows hard, eyes flickering up towards the ceiling like he’s hoping to see god and seek his guidance. His eyes flutter shut. “I just… I like it when you act like that.”
You pause, your face still cradled in the palms of his large hands--soft from the moisturizer he applies dutifully every morning and night. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Akiteru’s tone is well and truly desperate, now, and it only piques your interest more. “Like you’re mad at me. Like you’re—“ he visibly struggles to say the word “—mean.”
Oh.
Akiteru squirms a little under your thoughtful gaze.
You smile.
Maybe your boyfriend wasn’t quire as vanilla as you’d previously thought.
And maybe your life wasn’t destined to be so boring after all.
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consider: pre-relationship, before either of you confesses to any romantic feelings, you and your f/o fall asleep together, probably unintentionally. you wake up before him and hear him murmur a little in his sleep, followed by a few soft little moans or whimpers, and when your gaze trails south you notice that he's hard. you're in a daze, watching his hips twitch in stunned awe, your own breath hitching, heart racing as you wonder just what he's dreaming about... and then he sighs your name.
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── 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : hinata shoyo.
content: fem!reader. public sεx in the back booth of a cafe. dirty thoughts, teasing, fingering, a little overstimulation, shoyo is a liiittle mean but he's just so eager to have you!! mentioned pussy eating at the end.
— . ｡˚ ♡ you just can't wait to have shoyo's fingers in you. and neither can he.
one of the first things you notice about hinata when you meet up with him after his years away in brazil, is that his hands are big.
he'd already been growing taller and filling out when he left — but that was nearly three years ago, and seeing him for the first time after so long felt like a dream — because despite looking the same, he also looked just that different. it wasn't just his hands, really — he was big.
his neck was thicker, the expanse between his shoulder and neck offering much more space for your arms than it used to, as you wrapped them around his neck in a hug. his arms, his chest, his stomach, as they press against yours in the embrace, they feel bigger, more muscular than you remembered.
but what you notice the most, what would be a subtle change compared to everything else — is that his hands are so big. maybe because you hadn't seen his hands properly in any of the pictures he'd sent you, but it was the most surprising change about him.
his fingers that just used to be long and lithe, are now thicker — knuckles tough and edges calloused, the backs of them rosy and tanned and the palms hard and smooth, pink at the rounder points.
and as he holds your hands in his, gives you a smile that pours love and longing and happiness and tender adoration into you as he tells you, “hi, baby. i missed you.” — all you can think about is that you want your pussy stuffed with those fingers of his.
and eventually — because he is after all, your beloved shoyo that would do anything for you — you tell him.
hand in hand, walking the distance from your place to the café you used to frequent together, you tell him that his hands are so nice.
his fingers are so thick (“look! see how big they are compared to mine?”) and then while you're talking to each other over cups of coffee, you finally tell him — albeit slyly and mostly as a tease, you admit that you want his fingers in your cunt.
what you don't expect is for him to immediately oblige.
you're sitting together at the very last booth of the small, cozy little cafe, away from all the windows and concealed from clear view — and you'd thought it'd be cute to fluster him with a dirty little comment, and get him hooked for when you both get home.
but when you tell him, “they'd feel so nice curling deep into my pussy, don't you think?” hinata stares at you for only a few seconds — before he has you pressed against the back of the booth, one legged hooked over his knees and the other dangling over the edge of the seat as he forces your legs open.
“mhm,” he giggles at your wide eyed, stunned expression, wrapping a muscled arm around you and adjusting your position so effortlessly, as his other hand slides past the waistband of your skirt to palm at your clothed cunt. “let's see how it feels, then. oh — pretty pussy's wet already, huh? missed me much?”
you're too dazed by the contact and the delicious feel of his touch on your clit to form words and tell him yes, yes yes you missed him so fucking much, more than he knows — but you think you missed him more than even you know.
his eyes are brighter than you remember as well, you see as you blink up to meet his gaze—
his body language, his confidence, it's so different compared to how he was before.
you'd only gotten together in your third year of highschool, and really you'd only fucked once before he left for brazil — but you'd loved him long enough to know.
this isn't the same hinata that you kissed good-bye at that train station years ago.
correction: he is the same — but he's also more.
you stare, stars in your eyes — and he gives you a handsome, rogueish grin as he slips two digits under your panties and into the slick mess of your hole, like he knows every single thing he's doing to you right now.
to your body, to your mind, to your soul.
it's overwhelming enough, to have the love of your life return home to you after more than two years of being so, so far away from you.
overwhelming enough to see that he has changed so very much, to see that suddenly the sunny, sweet boy you'd fallen in love with has become a fire, a hot searing flame that's ready to sweep you off your feet and singe you, burn you with his kisses and his touch.
but right now, you can't even think clearly about it all — because fuck, fuck, fuck, he's sliding his fingers into you, and it feels even better than you thought it would.
“sh—shoyo,” you whimper, cheek pressed to his chest as he shields your body with his, just in case. “wait, wait — didn't mean right now, i—”
“hush,” he hums into your ear, thumb gliding up to find your clit, and when he presses into the sensitive bud, you can only obey and hush — pressing your lips shut tight to prevent the gasp of pleasure that builds in your throat from getting away.
the café had been pretty quiet and peaceful when you'd both walked inside, and even as you ordered from the counter and brought your trays to the back booth — but suddenly, you're so afraid that people might come and see. afraid that a waiter might come over and see.
“sho—” you try, but he shushes you again, and you feel so hot, it's all so sudden you can't think.
“couldn't wait, sunshine, 'm sorry.” he mumbles into your hair, pulling you even closer, and you feel a little cramped as he tugs your legs even further apart, fingers sliding knuckle-deep into you. “was thinking things the whole time, you're so gorgeous now, can't wait when you're so hot.”
“i—” you whimper again, grabbing his shirt and curling it in your fist. “me too, shoyo, me too.” there's an impatience in the both of you that was hardly satiable when kept apart from eachother, but now, with the two of you like this, there's no way to keep it at bay.
the stretch of his fingers in your cunt is impossible. so much compared to your own fingers, so hot and hungry compared to the toys you use (ones he'd bought and sent home to you during his time in brazil).
he fucks his digits into you like he's been dying to do this to you, like he's desperate to hear those pretty sounds you make in his ear again, like he's been thirsting to make you cum like this forever.
you're going to hit your orgasm so quick, you can already feel it.
you're going to cum slumped in the back booth of this little café, that you'd visited so long ago on your first date with hinata. this little café where you'd first kissed him. this little café where you'd had a valentine's day brunch with him, just two months before he left.
“shoyo,” you can't help the moan that slips out, pussy only clenching around harder his digits when you see the way his eyes cloud with lust upon hearing your voice. “shoyo, shoyo — gonna cum.”
you hope nobody hears you — and you hope that if they did, they'll stay the fuck away and mind their own business, and let hinata take care of you.
you need it. he's so warm, so hot, and he's fucking you so good with just his fingers — thumb rolling your clit just fucking right while he curls his fingers into your velvet walls, giggling under his breath when your pussy squelches messily each time.
“that's right, baby,” he coos, kissing your hair. “cum for me. nice and hard, mkay? else we might hafta try again.”
his voice cracks so well at just the right moment as he says it — and you don't know if it's the zap of need that courses through you at the sound of his voice breaking, or if it's just the bliss he's giving you with his fingers that makes you cum instantly, but you do.
your pussy wraps around his fingers so tight — your own hand flying up to clamp over your mouth and muffle your cry, as your body finally unfreezes and you crash into your high.
knees knocking together and squeezing hinata's arm between your legs, you fall lax against the leather seating of the booth — cushioned by his body because he still has his other arm secured around you — and you cum. “fuck, shoyo.”
“that's good,” hinata encourages, his whisper hot in the shell of your ear. “fuck, so messy. so messy, baby, how do we clean you up?”
you can't help it — and he's making it worse, curling his fingers in, knuckles digging into your walls as he tries to go even deeper, never relieving the pressure he's out on your clit, god— “shoyo, fuck, fuck.” you’re afraid you might shatter into a million pieces right there on the damn seat. you haven’t had someone else touch you in a long time, and getting an orgasm ripped from you like this is almost too much. “sho—shoyo, please.”
“please, what?” he giggles, still unrelenting, like he’s missed having you like this, like he really can’t be a good boy and wait until you get back home before he eats you up and makes you his girl all over again, for the first time in years.
“not here,” you say breathlessly, gulping down the cry of pleasure that springs up your throat when he lets go of your clit for a moment, only to flick his thumb at the ravenous bud again. “not here, please. i can’t—”
“can’t what?” he asks, almost impatient. he bites at your ear, and you feel so fucking hot, so dizzy with pleasure, but you can’t. not in the back booth of a god damn café, where you could just be caught with MSbY’s newest outside hitter fitting his fingers into your starving little cunt.
you grab his wrist and tug, giving him the most serious look you can with all the stars in your eyes. “can’t be like this, shoyo. not here. please? wanna go home. want you in me. at home.”
his lips pull downwards into a disappointed pout, but he only presses his body closer to you, hot and heavy, his weight so new on you. “you promise t’ let me fuck you like this in your bed then?”
the fact that he can make you blush harder with a few words even as he’s got your pussy full of his fingers is astounding, really. but you feel your face heat up as you nod, telling him you promise. you need it more than him. you need him so, so fucking bad.
with a delighted laugh, shoyo pulls away, almost too quickly and you’re forced to stifle the needy whine you want to let out because you know he’ll be on you again in no time if you act like that. he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick, eyes dulling with lust as he gets a taste of you. “let’s go, then. we can have this date later.”
“wh—what about our food?” you can’t even ask before he’s getting up and pulling you to your feet. he gives you a quick kiss, and your eyes widen when you taste yourself on him. god, it’s almost embarrassing.
“i’ll pay for it now, we’ll tell them we’re coming back in a bit.” he grins at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you up against him. “i can think of something else i’d like to eat right now.”
by the glint in his eyes and the lingering taste in your mouth, you know exactly what he means the instant he says it. and you can’t help but blush again. god, he’s such a fucking charmer. “mm, alright. let’s go then.”
“that’s my girl.”
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♡‧₊˚ ꒰ FEATURING ꒱ virgin!atsumu
♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI !! virginity loss, unprotected sex, overstimulation, tsumu and reader fuck each other dumb oops
check out the others here !
"what did ya do to me?” atsumu gasps out, resting his forehead onto yours before he starts moving again.
he can’t help erratically rutting into you, feeling your slick walls coat his cock, driving him further into insanity. the constant pulses your cunt emitted pulls him in a haze, fucking his cum further into you. the way you squeeze him so tightly was going straight to his head, clouding his vision until all he could feel was you.
he never knew it could feel this good. it honestly felt better than any win on the court, higher than any high he’s ever had. something was coursing through his veins, egging him on to push himself as deep as he could into your warm, welcoming cunt.
once you showed him where the clit was, it was game over. he had surprised you, he was a natural. but then again, he was always good at striving to be the best.
and you were being so good for him, laying there and taking it, guiding him with your legs wrapped around his waist. but what else would he expect from his cute manager. the one who had welcomed him to the team with a sweet smile and constant reassurance. he didn’t realize he had gotten any special treatment from you until bokuto commented on it. that’s when he knew you might’ve liked him. and that’s when he decided to make his clumsy move.
it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve cum or how he had already cum, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. he kept spilling into you while simultaneously spilling out all the feelings he’s kept locked inside. it was like a dam breaking, once it started it couldn’t stop.
“cant believe i’m the one that gets to fuck ya.” he moans in your ear, hips stuttering against you before finding his pace again. the room was filled with the sound of your bodies slapping together, his balls feverishly clapping against your ass.
he knew he sounded whiny — but he didn’t care. not when every fiber of his being was on fire, the amount of pleasure was overwhelming. the overstimulation was starting to bite at him but there was no way he could stop, even if he wanted to. absolutely addicted to the way your body melded with his.
“shit-” you gasp out, clawing more into his back. the sensation of you drawing small scratches into him brought him back down to reality for a moment, letting out a deep groan.
his eyes quickly found yours as he tried to assess if you were feeling as good as he was feeling. but judging by the way those breathy moans and whimpers of his name were flowing out of your mouth, he hoped he was doing a good job. but he needed you to say it.
“does it feel good? when i fuck ya like this?” he pants, leaving open mouth kisses along your throat. his words were laced with insecurity despite his cocky question, absolutely desperate to know the answer.
“feels so good ‘tsumu.” your words slur together. the nickname caught him off guard and pride swells in his chest, driving him to drive into you harder, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. the new position angled him deeper, and he knew he was a goner.
“fuck m’gonna cum again.” he panted out, driven by the need to fill you up more. he felt himself getting tired but he didn’t want to stop, not when you were babbling out for him. breathing wasn’t the priority right now, you were. tears pricked along his last line as his hips stuttered into you, trying to push himself all the way past your wall and lodge himself into your heart.
everything with blank for a moment, white filling his vision as he came in spurts, practically moaning out your name as he emptied himself into you. the way your walls were fluttering around him prolonged his orgasm and he could barely hold on, roughly gripping onto your waist as his lifeline.
but he wasn’t done.
after cumming twice already, overstimulation was ripping into him, the pain shooting directly into his tip. but the pleasure easily outweighed it. especially with the way your slick walls were clinging onto his cock, almost as desperate for him as he was for you. he knew he had another one left in him.
the two of you were drenched in sweat and who knows what else. but he had never seen you look more beautiful as you laid under him, pulling at him for more. his cock twitched at the sight, and he was more than ready to deliver what you both craved.
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Bokuto doesn’t know his own strength. He loves to lay himself right on top of you, pressing you into the mattress or couch. You love it, though, the warmth and weight of him. It’s soothing and your favorite way to cuddle. Even if it is a little hard to breath.
Bokuto is not fully oblivious to his size. He knows he has to prep you well to take him and he always does. Foreplay is never, ever skipped by him. He loves fingering your pussy, stretching it on his long, thick fingers. They’re rough from years of playing volleyball, but it only makes his touch more arousing. He’s not happy until you’ve cum as least twice around his fingers.
Bokuto’s strength is never more apparent than when he’s fucking you. Even with his dutiful work to make you ready for him, your pussy still stings with stretch every time he pushes into you. It’s a good kinda sting though, one that makes you bite your lip and your back arch off the bed.
Bokuto knows he should go slow. And he tries. He really, really tries. But the second he bottoms out in your sweet pussy he’s like a man possessed. He can’t stop himself from fucking into you with all he’s got. Each of his heavy, deep thrusts felt throughout your whole body. When his head isn’t thrown back moaning, because yes he is so vocal, he loves watching your tits bounce with each snap of his hips.
Bokuto being a pro athlete means that he is not only strong, but has an unbreakable stamina. Your pussy is sensitive and throbbing from multiple orgasms and he’s still fucking into you with no end in sight. “You feel amazing pretty girl.” He’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, loving how his dick looks covered in your slick arousal.
Bokuto buries his face into your neck when he’s close. He babbles through his orgasm, pussy drunk and half delirious. “So- fuck- so good angel. Gonna fill you up. Love you so much. So, so much.” His cum is hot and thick, making you feel impossibly full. You love it, racking your nails down his back just like he likes while he empties himself inside you.
Bokuto is also amazing with aftercare. He always gets a warm towel to clean you up. If you got particularly messy, he will carry you to the shower and clean you off. He’s so sweet and gentle with this part, peppering you with kisses every chance he gets. And, of course, when he’s done he’s climbing right on top of you to cuddle.
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currently thinking of pretty boys…
pretty boys who got so much attention in school from girls, but never got farther than a hot make out session and some over the top action.
pretty boys who learned how to sweet talk and give the impression of a player, but still jack off at night to that worn down magazine.
pretty boys who go to uni with false confidence, thinking they know how to please a woman.
pretty boys who freeze up when their flirting lands them in your dorm when your roommate is out.
pretty boys who’s thick cocks leak when you shamelessly strip bare, their once dirty mouths dry in anticipation.
pretty boys who can only let out pathetic whimpers when you pull their hair back and ask where their confidence went.
pretty boys who try their hardest not to cum as soon as you sit on their cocks, who become your pretty little doll and let you do whatever you want to them.
pretty boys who look at you with puppy eyes as you help give him the best orgasm he’s ever had.
— ATSUMU, oikawa, kuroo, aomine, midorima(?), KISE, hawks, GOJO, etc.
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let’s reverse the script a lil shall we? let’s imagine him tying your hands behind your back when he’s eating you out….his arms wrapped around your thighs leaving you helplessly trapped in this sick game of him over stimming you till you can’t anymore (or till he’s done which ever comes first).
it was cute after the first time he made you cum but after what seemed like the fourth, tears couldn’t help but fall from your eyes as you begged him that it was just “t-too much” but you weren’t too convincing when your hips were bucking into his face when you were just so close to cumming again, leaving you whiny and breathless after each time. —
“f-fuck.. i c-can’t please” your voice not even sounding like your own anymore, desperate to run your hands through his soft hair to pull him even closer despite your words. “let me touch you.. promise I’ll b good”
his groan in response was clear that he didn’t wanna stop, nor did he plan to. but how could he just say nothing to that cute voice of yours? he was pussydrunk not a bully— “in a minute baby, in a minute” his eyes locked on your swollen clit that his lips desperately wanted to suck. thumb rubbing circles on your inner thigh his eyes giving away at how full blown out on lust he was, you were too fucking pretty for words.
“just keep sitting there looking pretty for me” placing a kiss where his thumb once was as his head dove back down placing a kiss on your clit “so so fucking pretty”
reversed ver here
gojo, getou, toji, atsumu, bokuto, armin, jean, (y’all know i had to add eren cmon), reiner… sakusa, KAGEYAMA!!, osamu ofc, aran, dazai me thinks, CHUUYAAA, sae itoshi, and any of ur favs obvi
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ex husbands who are absolutely infatuated with you still. you broke off the marriage civilly and you co parent your 5 year old daughter. whenever he comes around, he always asks his daughter to ask if he can stay later because he knows that you could never say no to your precious girl. staying late ends up with him in your bed, on top, with one large hand dripping in your essence, and the other over your mouth to not wake up your daughter.
- toji <3, atsumu, iwaizumi, bokuto, kuroo, daichi, ushijima, osamu, matsukawa, sakusa, aran, gojo
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