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kiwanopie · 7 months

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Overnight Lovin’

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

cw: smut, alcohol mention, oral sex(f!receving), dumbification, dirty talk, whipped!Kiyoomi, mutually cumdrunk, PnV sex, creampie. Minors do not interact.

wc: 3.2k

This is not your bedroom.

As much as you’d kill for it to be. Silk cotton stuffed duvet a rich maroon in accordance to equally as soft sheets. Carefully shined mahogany floors checkered in wine colored Persian, a bedroom that’s more fantasy love suite than any commonplace bedroom and fuck if this mattress isn’t like heaven to lay on.

But this isn’t your bedroom.

You point your nose to the oversized shirt flooding a little under your collarbones. It’s just a simple horror tee. Dark colored kanji hovering over an illustration of Jason half obscured by cartoon blood and soft to the cotton touch. It’s big enough to cover a good portion of your thighs that are… not dressed with anything. Huh. Yeah, you are- You feel up your modest covering with a quick pat down of your hands. - Completely naked under this. And honestly a little sore. A certain shift of your hips has your pelvic area throbbing back at you like it’s already tapping out, fingerprint bruises on your thighs that feel tender when you poke them; even your tits are sore - nipples perking under your shirt like they’ve already been prodded and played with. Whoever the hell you went home with last night gave you a run for your money.

Come to think of it, what the hell even happened last night? Last you remember you were twisting your hips against a bar stool while your college buddies raved on ecstasy and coke on the dance floor. — A Shirley temple was enough to start your party high without indulging in any illicit drugs, but you’ve never been much of a drinker. That fizzy cherry vodka already had you buzzing, a few more of those and who knows what’ll happen.

You bite your lip against the grain of new life and newer feelings of lechery. You look too good and too soft not to be bent over a sink somewhere.

“That sweet?” His voice turns your fine hairs into goosebumps. “Looks tasty.”

You gaze up at him with doey eyes so filled with mirth that it makes his palms sweat. “It is.”

You slide your bottom lip through your teeth. Voice as pretty as you are. “You want a sip?”

He’s the smell of Dior and vetiver as he lifts the glass cuplet out of your hands. “Sure.”

You don’t remember who he was or what he looked like but just the memory of his raspy voice turns your sore throbbing into a needy ache. — If the way the sink in his bathroom abruptly stops with a moment of sluggish shuffling, you’re about to find out who exactly it was that rocked your world last night.

You’re already looking up at him when the door opens with a neat click, his muscled limbs stretch his boxers in a way that can only be described as appetizing.

And then you get a good look at his face.

Oh. Holy shit.

There’s… That’s-… How? He looks exactly like he does on his team’s magazine covers. JSM’s top ten lists, Bungeishunjū, and news outlets that brandish his face for a chance at watchability. He’s even more handsome in person. Trademark resting bitch face does little to dilute how painfully attractive he is and if anything the intimidation factor is a bonus. As well as the fame, the money, and of course his position as one of the top most well known athletes in all of Asia.

His name precedes him, the renowned Olympic volleyball player feels even taller than the humble 6’4 his Wikipedia pages cite him as,

He’s Sakusa Kiyoomi.

If it weren’t for the disorienting confusion you may have screamed. This is the guy who fucked you last night within an inch of your life.

Your voice is a little raspy which is expected, but when you open your mouth your jaw is sore. “Ohayō Gozaimasu-“

He clears the floor from the bathroom to the bed in just a few footsteps, you can barely react when he’s grabbing you by the jaw and tilting your head up for a better angle.

And then he’s kissing you.

The kiss is slow and sensual, so sultry that you moan a little in his mouth and he breathes into it with a deep hum. He’s kissing you like he loves you, like he’s crazy about you and like he just can’t get enough. The current of the kiss follows a savory kind of spit swapping that turns your inner thighs misty, and he pulls away with a soft smack that all but leaves a gossamer trail.

His thumb rubs circles on the soft of your cheek. “Ohayō.”

Your heart skips at the little peck he leaves on your lips before finally pulling away.

He runs a large hand through his tousled hair as he moves for a dresser near the vanity. “I ordered us some breakfast that should be here within the hour,”

He pulls out a shirt. “I’d make you some breakfast from scratch but,” Sakusa tugs it over his head. “I figured it’d be cruel to subject you to my cooking this early on.”

You blow a humored breath out of your nose. “I appreciate the sentiment regardless,”

He approaches the bed again and sits himself down across from you, there are love bites on his neck that probably match yours. “I hope you slept well.” He hums. “I slept like a rock because of you, actually.”

Oh god, you don’t even wanna know what kind of raunchy shit you were up to last night.

“I slept like the dead.” You crawl up to him, he’s already opening his arms for you. “Whatever you did put me out like a light.”

You fit in his arms so well it’s almost scary, he wraps his arms around you like he might never let you go. “Uh, Sakusa-san?”

He furrows. “Last name?”

You smile apologetically. “Kiyoomi,” You correct yourself. “I don’t… remember a lot of last night. We came back here from the club, right?”

“You…?” Kiyoomi’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “You don’t remember?”

“Not a lot.” You shake your head.

He frowns.

But even still his hand rubs fond lines up and down your back, still holding you just as faithfully, and looking up at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. “We marathoned a few drinks and then I had us dropped off at my place. I think… we started in the car, and then in my living room, and then the kitchen, the hallway, my bedroom finally; and then after a few hours we finished each other off in the shower. Around five we kissed until you eventually fell asleep.”

Kiyoomi traces the curves of your lips as he gazes fondly. “Last night was the best night of my life, I think. I don’t know if I’ve ever been with someone who could make me feel so good.” He proclaims. “I hope it’ll all come to you eventually, it was really something special.”

Well with the way he’s been treating you up to this point, it’s not like you’ll have a hard time believing that. Every earnest caress and look of adoration, the way his voice timbres into a loving hum, so smooth it makes you shiver. Hopefully those memories do come back at some point. You’ll never live it down if you actually missed the best night of your life.

You muse it with a little pout at the thought of that, Kiyoomi debates leaning forward and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. “Hopefully I do remember then. It sounds like we had a lot of fun,”

Your pout drops after a short moment of consideration and you lean in even closer. The soft tip of your nose grazes in feather strokes as you skim it over his and slowly ease your lips down the path way to his, tasting his shuddering breaths as you hover there for a few painful seconds. But he all but melts when you finally meet. A chaste lingering kiss at first, a few sensuous short ones; you do him the courtesy and suck his bottom lip in your mouth instead. — Letting it snap back before you’re starting a trail down his cheek and kissing up until you're nosing under his jaw, using your loving hand to tilt his head up and give you the access that you seek.

He could buy you a ring right now, he wouldn’t even regret it. You don't even remember what you two got up to last night and still you’re caressing him in a way that gives him goosebumps. If you keep this up, he might wind up funding your entire life.

You bring your head up again and pull him into another kiss. Slow and open mouthed, and he damn near purrs when you start pushing your fingers through his hair. “Regardless, you feel amazing.” You whisper against his lips.

God, you might be trying to kill him. “I wouldn’t mind a refresher if you’re up for it.”

He sighs through his nose as he ducks his head to burrow himself into the crevasse over your shoulder, already peppering in searing kisses down your throat. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Kiyoomi sucks in a love bite that makes you whimper so pretty. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good you can’t take it.”

With the way you’re already making a mess in his lap, you believe him.

—

He’s a good kisser.

Regardless of where his lips end up. He’s a little messy, a little heavy with tongue, slow when it matters and firm when it counts. He’s great with his mouth. Surprising since he’s known for being somewhat of a recluse in the opinion of the public eye. Some call him aloof, others call him cold, the majority call him intimidating, but right now what comes to your mind is giving.

The way he spits on your already messy pussy makes your eyes roll.

You inadvertently hump into his face as the combination of his tongue and fingers set the pit in your stomach ablaze. He’s fucking you with his mouth so thoroughly that the skewlch of your building arousal reverbates throughout the room. You almost feel bad about how much your thighs are all but compressing the sides of his head, but every effort to lighten up on him has him tightening his hold on you to keep him locked against your sloppy cunt.

You hiss through your teeth as your fingers card through his hair. “F-Fuck… Omi…!”

Kiyoomi moans against your clit at the wanton sound of your pitched voice. Airy, and breathy, and intoxicating. He’s grinding himself so desperately into the mattress that he’s sure he’s gone sticky.

The veins in his arms pop as he persistently fucks his fingers into your tight little hole, sloppily sucking your swollen clit as the way you roll your hips into his face drives him crazy. “You’re gonna make me cum…!” You whimper. “Fuck, Kiyoomi!”

That crude mixture of his spit and your cum is starting to form a little puddle under your backside, every bit of you he doesn’t get to swallow he doubles his efforts to drink you up sprucely.

Hearing you teeter over the edge makes him feel like he’s following close behind. Your moans are so astonishingly pretty that it’s turning his brain all fuzzy. “Ffffuck! Oh fuck. Oh my god, baby! Fuck-! I-I’m…I’m cumming…!”

Kiyoomi groans drunkenly into your cunt as it suckles on his fingers, he’s so determined to drink every last drop of your cum that he almost comes off as depraved. Lewdly slurping you up as the way he desperately sucks on your clit makes you whine into the air. Still indulging himself in your mess even as you whimper from overstimulation.

He only pulls away because the way you’re begging for him to fuck you is sending him into a frenzy. “Wan’ it so bad, Omi. Please? Do whatever you want to me. U-Use me up!”

“Yeah?” Kiyoomi hums into your mouth as you suck yourself off of his tongue. “Want me to use you? I’ll fuck you till you cry, you know.”

Your misty eyes make his heart skip, the way the head of his cock catches your entrance feels like stepping into heaven all over again. “Please, baby? Give it to me. ‘Wanna feel you inside!”

He gapes a little as he presses himself in, so overwhelmed that his head falls into your shoulder and it’s an effort for him not to outright cry out at how fucking unreal you feel.

He thinks he might just be falling in love with you. Having a pussy like this may just be a hazard for his mental health, there’s no way he’s letting this slip throughout his fingers. “Oh my god,” Kiyoomi chokes. “O-Oh my fucking god.”

“You feel… unbelievable, angel,” He starts his pace. God, fucking you is actually pushing him to the brink of insanity. “…oh my fucking-… s-so tight! So fucking wet for me, angel… holy shit…- you’re so good to me, baby.”

His breathless praises are sending you alight. He’s so deep in your guts that you’re sure you’d find a bulge if you looked down at where your bodies meet. “So good…! So, so good!”

The way you hold each other is so desperate and devoted that it feels biblical. “I can feel you in my stomach, Omi… So deep…! Y-You’re… too deep!”

Kiyoomi grunts as he pushes himself in to the hilt and holds himself there for a blissful second. Grinding his hips in shallow circles that make you choke on your tongue, but you barely know the half of until he’s lifting up one of your legs.

And then the other, lifting on his knees till he’s hovering over your pretty face, - and then he starts pistoning.

The way your face contorts from a flustered glimmer of welling tears to a blissed out gape that cutens as your tears fall is enough to make his balls feel tight enough to burst. Never mind how fucking amazing this new angle is, watching you lose your mind under him as those pretty tits move to the current of his thrusts is making his brain feel all cloudy. — He’s sure the eye contact he’s keeping is transparent in the fact that he’s turned a little love drunk. Ducking his head to press tempered kisses on your throat, but he can’t help himself from the way his lips skim up to your ear and his mouth moves without him really thinking about it.

It’s a pleasure induced haze, he’s sure. But he can’t be forgiven for the absolute filthy things he’s saying to you.

“You hear that?” He drags in a few particularly forceful thrusts that make you sob so prettily for him. “You’re really soaking me up, huh.”

“Is it that good? You feel me deep in your tummy?” Kiyoomi swivels his hips. “S-Shit. What a pretty fucking noise that just was. Fuck, baby. - Oh, are you crying?”

“Too much?” But even still he presses more of his weight on you until every thrust is hitting you to the hilt. So deep that every other press of his hips forces a yip out of you that makes his face hot. — He’s really starting to think he might be ruined for anyone else at this point.

“You’re g’nna take it for me anyway though, huh? Slutty baby… You’re gonna let me fuck you brain dead? Fuck you till you’re all stupid for me?”

You sound as far gone as he is. “Y- Yes! Yes!”

“Yeah, that’s it, angel. Such a… fuck… good fucking girl for me.”

You must be close to cumming cause you’re really starting to milk him for all he’s worth. Sucking him back in every time he pulls away and every moment he continues to fuck into you you only get tighter.

He’s losing his mind. “Ohhh fuck. Fuck! I swear to god I’m gonna break you. G’nna - shit - gonna fuck you till you’re all mine, yeah? H-Holy shit-“

Kiyoomi groans at the way your fingernails start to dig groves into his back. “Mhm. Mark me up, angel. Wanna see you all over me when we’re done.”

You grab a helping of his hair and hold on to it for dear life, you’re drooling at this point. “Oh my god… oh m’ god, Kiyoomi… I’m- I’m gonna make a mess!”

“Yeah?” Which obviously means he’s reaching down to rub messy circles on your clit. “Gonna make a mess? Wanna soak me in your pretty cum?”

“Give it to me then, baby. I’ll fill you up so good when you do.”

You croon in his ear and it sounds like gospel.

And then you’re soaking the bed with your cum.

Kiyoomi doesn’t let up even as your juices wet down his pelvis and legs. He doesn’t stop his punishing thrusts or the rhythm he’s keeping on your clit, still whispering words of filth and praise in your ear, — and it looks like you’ve completely lost yourself to the pleasure at this point. The way his name is clipping so desperately off your tongue is making his eyes roll into his head. And it’s just a few more moments of fucking into your spasming pussy till he’s following you off the edge.

“Oh god. Oh my god.” He hisses. “Mmmh - Oh fuck, baby. I’m cumming… f-fuck! I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Oh god, even after last night there’s still so much of it. So much and so hot. Just the feeling of clenching on his hot cum as he continues to fuck into you is sending you over the edge again. God, the sounds you’re both making. Thank goodness his penthouse is big enough to not worry about disturbing any of his neighbors, reinforced flooring probably snuffing out the sound of your debauched love making. He’s never been the most vocal in bed but you’re making him whine into your ear like a cheap whore. And the sounds you’re making - Fuck, the sounds you’re making, he wouldn’t be surprised if he turned his head and found the decorative plants near his terrace sprouting flowers. It shouldn’t even be possible to sound that fucking good and feel this fucking amazing all at once.

Kiyoomi doesn’t even realize that bed making firm clicks into the wall until he starts to slow up his thrusts. Gradually coming down from his high until his desperate movements become slow and sensuous grinding, still rocking into you even as you settle again in his arms.

He lifts his head to bring you into a lazy kiss, a little sloppy, a little butterfly inducing.

You sigh into his lips. “…Holy shit.”

Kiyoomi pulls away to press a few slow kisses into your jaw. “I think I just might be addicted to you.”

“You’re telling me…” You cross your legs over his back. “Is it too early to suggest we go steady?”

He snorts a little. “As if I’m letting you go anywhere after that.”

Kiyoomi raises his back to gingerly kiss you on the lips, so tender it feels loving. Even as he pulls away he seems ailed by it. He is ailed by it. He can’t even imagine how he’ll fare when he has to get up eventually.

His breath is warm against your lips. The way he speaks to you feels reverent. “You’re stuck with me now.”

You smile. And he goosebumps. “Aren’t I lucky then?”

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anisespice · 1 year

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“ the fuck-it list ” || hq!

two || three

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: various x gn!reader [ kags, akaashi, atsumu, kenma ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, mentions of cheating, cringe descriptions that aren’t 100% accurate lol

notes: based this off how my friend and i speculate about how the men in hq would be like in bed sooo it’s really just a little jokey joke, so have fun with her :] thinking of making more parts of this with other characters, lemme know what you guys think, and hope you enjoy!!

To be completely honest, KAGEYAMA wouldn’t know much about the list aside from maybe surface level stuff. He knew it was full of nonsensical speculations, nothing but weird projections put onto strangers by other strangers who found them attractive. It creeped him out a little, so that’s as far as he wished to know.

Plus, he had no reason to care about some dumb list—He had you.

“Have you seen this bullshit?!” Well, speak of the devil.

All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared his reflexes for the amount of whiplash you put him through in the span of ten seconds. There he was, minding his business in his dorm room, chilling with a volleyball, then BAM; he’s getting bum-rushed by his 5-foot-something significant other with smoke coming through their ears.

Good thing you had a key because the setter was certain you would’ve smashed right through his door by sheer force.

“Huh??” Frankly, you startled the poor man. The ball that was in the middle of being set toward the ceiling came barreling down on his face, causing him more disorientation. “See—ouch. See what?”

You stood there next to his bed, one hand on your hip while the other practically shoved your phone in his face. He squinted at the harsh light, but eventually his eyes adjusted enough to read the post. His lips formed a confused pout. “That stupid, horny hit-list? What about it?”

“What about it? Some bitch put you on there! Just listen to this garbage, ‘Tobio Kageyama. 6’2ft stoic, and mean Dom who’s pretty damn good with his hands. It’s obvious how much of a perfectionist he is, so be ready for some killer overstimulation. Probably won’t make any noise, and doesn’t know much about aftercare. Overall score: 6/10’. Are they deadass right now?”

Ah. Now he gets it.

He figured it was only a matter of time, homie was very much aware of his status around campus, not to mention being a looker to top it off. However, he figured being in a relationship would lessen his chances of him ending up on it, especially since you weren’t a secret or anything. Guess that list really had no morality after all. Who’d have thought?

“I mean, the audacity to put your name on it knowing damn well if anyone even tried it, I’d gorilla glue all their holes shut.” He snorted, face scrunching slightly at your unusual threat. But, something told him deep down you were being serious.

You continued ranting while pacing back and forth. “But not only that, they completely warped your entire sexual identity just because, what, you know how to mind your business and happen to have a RBF?”

“RBF?” He tilted his head, making you halt mid-rant to admire the adorable sight. How dare he? You were in the middle of seething, dammit.

“Resting Bitch Face.”

He frowned. “I don’t have that.”

“Tobio, you’re doing it right now.”

He huffed, looking away from you in defiance. His face was fine, he thought, a perfectly normal face indeed. A handsome face, he’d even say. Immediately picking up on his sourness, you chuckled softly before reaching over to cup his face and make him look at you. Kageyama instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, his frown still apparent, but a little less heavy once it met your soft gaze. “Don’t be pouty.”

“I’m not…” he mumbled, cheeks squished under your palms. A small blush bloomed across the apples at your teasing giggle. “You’re the one that’s upset, not me. Why do you care if they misrepresented how I am in bed? Shouldn’t you be happy it’s inaccurate?”

Now it was your turn to huff, your bottom lip sticking out. Kageyama’s eyes honed in on its pillowy surface instantly, licking his own as he restrained himself; there’d be plenty of time for that later.

“I mean, yeah but…I don’t know. It just…feels icky knowing there are random people around campus theorizing about your dick size in the comments, or if you cry after an orgasm. The least they could’ve done was be a little accurate if they’re gonna cause us all this trouble.”

“Us? Pretty sure I’m the victim here. Who sucks at aftercare, apparently.” He scoffed, of which earned another giggle from you. “Besides, the only person I care about knowing any of that stuff is right here. They can take their 6/10 and fuck right off. I know my baby would rate me higher than that, right?”

You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact as you playfully ignored his obvious bait for praise. Kageyama doesn’t take too kindly to that. He softly glared at you, arms tightening their hold around your waist and pulling you even closer to his toned chest.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh? That’s fine.”

Before you could register what happened, your boyfriend swept you up without struggle and gently tossed you onto his bed. “However, I will admit they were right about one thing.”

With a slight bounce, you couldn’t fight the delighted squeal as you watched him prowl towards you.

“Oh, really? And what’s that?”

He hummed softly, large hands traveling up your legs from the ankles all the way to your inner thighs before spreading them open to rest in between them. Finding home there for a brief moment, Kageyama practically smothered you under his gaze, attention once again zeroing in on your lips. He could feel his restraint dissipating, biting his own lip before slowly leaning down to place warm kisses against your skin. He left no spot unloved until he eventually stopped at your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your spine.

“I’m pretty damn good with my hands.”

Like Kageyama, AKAASHI didn’t care to know much about the list. He knows a good chunk of guys that ended up on it personally, and based on the conversations he’s heard them have it sounded like nothing but trouble.

And he was right to assume such.

One afternoon a few of his friends came barreling toward him during his break in between classes, each sporting various expressions that ranged from extreme determination (Bokuto) to absolute amusement (Kuroo), while the third looked as if they were brought there against their will (Kenma). Slowly, Akaashi lowered his sandwich with a sigh; so much for a peaceful lunch.

“AKAASHI.” Bokuto exclaimed, hands slamming down on the table to keep himself from nearly toppling the man. Akaashi flinched slightly at the volume, but before he could reprimand him, Bokuto grabbed him by his shoulders and looked him square in the eyes with grand intensity. “How could you be so selfish? I thought I raised you better than this, young man!”

The former setter gaped; that’s not at all what he was expecting to hear. It didn’t help when Kuroo started busting a lung, both hands on his knees as his hyena-esque laugh bounced off the walls of the canteen. Kenma side-eyed the business major before going back to playing some game on his phone, offering the ravenette a soft greeting, then helping himself to a chair.

Akaashi acknowledged the pudding-head with a small nod, sharp eyes redirecting back to his senior as he removed the rough hands from his shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you cheating on [_____]!”

Akaashi blinked. Then, like a switch, his eyes nearly popped out his head as he registered the spiker’s words.

“WHAT.”

Kuroo, after finally catching his breath, gave a hearty exhale as he placed a hand on Bo’s shoulder. “Way to rip off the bandaid, buddy. Thought we agreed to work our way up to that part.”

“Screw that! I demand answers! Can’t believe I’ve been friends with a no good, cheating scumbag, hmph.” Akaashi blanched at the harsh accusation, falling deeper and deeper into a state of pure shock.

“Wait, hold on—”

“Whoa there, let’s not jump to conclusions. The man hasn’t even gotten the chance to speak for himself. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this whole thing.” Kuroo reasoned, but was obviously eating it up. Kenma lightly scoffed.

“You’re so full of shit.” He voiced, not even bothering to lift his gaze away from the game. Kuroo gasped dramatically at the dig, hand over his heart and everything. The former paid him no mind.

Akaashi abruptly stood. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I’m not cheating on [______], who’s spreading such a thing?”

Bokuto squinted. “Oya? Then how do you explain this?”

Like incriminating evidence being shown to a jury, the silver-haired tank pulled up the updated version of the list on his phone that was posted over an hour ago. Akaashi was still perplexed until he saw it. His name. Oh, god no.

Akaashi snatched the device to get a closer look just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of prank. To his dismay, the post was legit. Oh, god no.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

“Uh huh, busted your ass!” Bokuto snatched the phone back only for Kuroo to then take it from him. “Hey!”

Clearing his throat, the sly bastard began reading the caption. “‘Keiji Akaashi. 6’0ft tall, pretty boy with intelligent steel blue eyes. His mysterious nature and bored expression would automatically put him under the Dom category, but I can see right through him.’ Wow, they make you sound like some sort of experiment.”

“Don’t read that outloud!” Akaashi lunged forward, only to be stopped by a large hand in his face. “Omf-! Fohkuto-son!”

“What? Ashamed of yourself? You should be, traitor!”

Kuroo continued. “‘What many would believe to be the strong silent type, I believe there’s a sensitive side to him. That’s why I declare Keiji Akaashi to be a Switch with Sub-leaning tendencies, who’s not afraid to be vocal and would 100% let you peg him. 11/10. Would fuck again.’ Holy shit, this is gold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Akaashi felt like his entire face was on fire. This was like his worst nightmare come to life, and apparently now everyone on campus could participate in his misery. “This cannot be happening to me…”

“Oh, me, me, me. Is that really all you can say for yourself? What about [_____], huh? How do you think they’d feel after finding out their boyfriend is an unfaithful—”

“I DIDN’T CHEAT ON MY S/O, BOKUTO-SAN. That isn’t even the purpose of the list, you should know, you’re on it too!”

Bokuto gaped. “I am??”

Akaashi groaned, sinking back into his seat. His hands dragged across his face in distress, feeling as if he aged ten years from this mishap alone. But, Bokuto had a point—How were you feeling about all this? Had you seen it?

Luckily, he didn’t need to wonder for long.

“Keiji!”

He flinched, as did the two stooges hovering near him. Kenma was the only one to greet you normally while everyone else resembled deer in headlights; this immediately alarmed you. What you expected to be a surprise lunch with your boyfriend since your class let out early, now felt as if you just walked in on an intervention. After taking in the weird atmosphere, you eyed Akaashi with mild confusion. “Uh…is everything okay?”

“It’s all good, [_____]! Turns out my best friend isn’t a scumbag after all. Akaashi is definitely not cheating on you, so no harm done!”

You did a double-take in bewilderment; didn’t expect that. “O..kay?”

Bokuto looked so proud of his declaration, chest puffed out whilst Kuroo looked like he could barely hold it together. Your boyfriend clearly had seen better days, frown heavy as he glared at his seniors; all he wanted was to eat his goddamn sandwich.

Eventually, you decided to just take a seat next to him, pulling out your own food while the two former captains began bickering about who knows what. Kenma continued to play his game, happily taking the apple slices you graciously slid over to him as a boost. After you got situated, Akaashi instantly plopped his head right on your shoulder, desiring comfort from the emotional turmoil he just endured.

You kissed away the stress lines on his forehead before opening up your bento, already having an idea in mind as to what’s gotten him so deflated. But, you spared him any further humiliation—You planned to report that stupid post later anyways.

You chilled outside the locker rooms waiting for ATSUMU, upon his request to walk you back to the dorms after practice was over. You told him there was no need, that you’d be fine walking back on your own, but he insisted.

And you were so glad he did.

While you were waiting, you mindlessly scrolled on Twitter until a familiar username caught your attention; @/FckIt22. Everyone knew of the infamous ‘Horny Bucket List’ going around and boosting already inflated egos, speculating and even sometimes outing people of their most lewd fantasies with popular guys on campus. You couldn’t help but watch the drama unfold every time there’d be a new update to the list, eating it up whenever it’d be someone you knew, or someone you would’ve never guessed to be on it.

And to your surprise, after you refreshed the page, it was both. Your mouth was slightly ajar when a picture of your boyfriend’s boyish grin greeted you, in his volleyball jersey, soaked with sweat and hair pushed back from his forehead; looking like a full course meal.

Eagerly, you tapped in to read the thread attached to the image, intrigued to know what was said about Atsumu until…

“...The fuck?”

As quick as your excitement came, there it went. Right there, in big letters for the whole campus, no, the entire internet to see was your boyfriend’s face attached with someone else’s name. And not just any someone.

‘O S A M U M I Y A’

You didn’t know whether to laugh, or what. Could they’ve seriously not been bothered to make sure they had the right twin? And not only that, they mentioned you in the thread. Didn’t bother to @ you, though.

That only pissed you off even further.

‘Osamu Miya. 6’1ft of muscle and charm, whose insatiable appetite won’t be satisfied until he’s had your thighs wrapped around his face for an hour AT LEAST. Not the most expressive, but make no mistake that he’s the ultimate brat tamer; no doubt [______] could attest to that.’

“I know damn well they didn’t just…” You muttered in disbelief, shaking your head as you read on.

‘But, if you’re good, he mayyyy let you top. Don’t think for a second you’re in control tho. Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for daysss. Doubt this man does anything but grunt and groan, but overall he still gets an 8/10. Yum ♡.’

Wow.

You weren’t expecting to see your future brother-in-law painted in this light today, but supposed there was a first for everything. To be fair, whomever ran the account sure knew how to sell a fantasy, but it didn’t excuse the lack of decorum they had. You felt a little disturbed, almost violated. One could only imagine how the twins would feel if they saw this…

“Hey there, stranger.” You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion; speak of the devil. Atsumu wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, placed his chin on your shoulder, and gave a loving squeeze. “Ya ready?”

“Uh, yeah.” You quickly locked your phone.

A little too quick.

A small pout formed on his face. He immediately called you out. “What’re ya lookin’ at?”

“Hm?”

“Your phone, y’were lookin’ at something.” Noticing your shifty behavior, his grip around you loosened a little as he strained his neck to look you square in the face. It wasn’t long before a teasing grin spread across his. His eyebrows wiggled, “Ya lookin’ at porn?”

With a roll of your eyes, you lightly jabbed him in his bicep. “Yeah, ‘Tsumu. I was totally looking at porn. You got me.”

Atsumu shrugged, sporting an even bigger grin as he started to sway both of you. “Hey, no judgement here. But don’t forget ya got the real deal right here, darlin’. Whenever you need it, your lovely boyfriend will take care of ya. All’s ya gotta do is ask.”

He spun you around in his hold, and grabbed your hips. With low, tired eyes he stared deeply into your soul. His lopsided grin brought more damage to your already fluttering heart, not to mention his semi that was now pressed against your stomach; this man had been dying to have you in his arms for a while, it seemed. However, even with this sexual tension growing between the two of you...you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Osamu.”

Immediately, his grin dropped. You did your best to remain stoic, but the absolute disgust that took over his face was just too good. Your body began to shake with laughter, small snickers escaping you as you bit your lip to hold it back. Atsumu was not amused.

“That joke wasn’t funny back in high school, [______], still ain’t funny now…”

“Oh, this is no joke. As of today, my boyfriend’s Osamu Miya, and apparently he’s my brat-tamer. Did you know that he won’t even let me top unless I’ve been good-?”

“Knock it off.” Atsumu glared, gently pinching your sides. You squirmed, but the teasing smile you had didn’t falter. “What’s gotten into ya? Tryin’ to get a rise outta me or somethin’?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen it yet?”

“Seen what?”

You unlocked your phone and showed him the thread. Atsumu held a look of utter confusion, squinting at it until it eventually registered what you were showing him. He’d heard about the list that circled around on campus, some of his friends and teammates used to brag, or complain about it to him when they ended up on it. At first, he found it entertaining…but now?

“THE FUCK?”

He snatched the phone out of your hands to get a closer look, catching on to what you’d originally been hiding from him in the beginning; Atsumu wished it had been porn.

“That’s what I said!” You laughed, incredulously. “The nerve of them to just mix the two of you up like that. And to add me into it without even bothering to tag me? Probably ‘cause they knew I’d call them out on their bullshit. Can you believe-”

“‘Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for days’?? I totally have Dom energy! We’re fucking twins, why wouldn’t I? And ‘Samu ain’t no brat-tamer! If anythin’, he’s the goddamn brat.” Somewhere on campus, Osamu sneezed.

You stood there in bewilderment. That’s what he’s concerned about?

Crossing your arms, you watched him in astonishment. “So, you don’t care that they used your picture? Or the insinuation that I sleep with your brother?”

“‘Course I do! Ya think I like the idea of his filthy mouth being anywhere near you? And usin’ my picture to clickbait my supporters is just cheap. But nothin’ pisses me off more than anyone thinkin’ that bastard has better game than me. 8/10 my ass…”

You snorted. Why were you not surprised?

Taking a small step closer you grabbed his wrist and lowered it, bringing his attention away from the phone. Atsumu now wore a heavy pout, one that you couldn’t help but to kiss; so you did. With a free hand you reaching up to his nape and pulled him downward, capturing his lips. Catching him off guard, man nearly dropped your phone when your tongue slipped into his mouth. With a soft groan, Atsumu wrapped an arm around your waist as he tilted his head in response to your sudden affection, deepening the kiss as it instantly made his mind go blank.

You pulled away too soon for his liking, the blonde blindly chasing after you with his eyes still closed as a light chuckle escaped you. You thumbed at his bottom lip, wiping some of the spit left behind as he slowly opened his eyes. Atsumu’s honey-gaze seared right into you, the hunger from early returning as the semi he sported was now fully hard, thick and heavy as it pressed against your stomach—So fucking whipped, after just one kiss. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gazing at him lovingly, your nails raked gently through his hair as he practically melted into you. For a moment, you thought he’d start purring.

“What do they know, huh? How about you take me to my dorm and remind me why Atsumu Miya, my lovely boyfriend, is the only one who takes good care of me. Then, we’ll put that account on blast afterwards, what d’you say?”

His boyish grin reappeared, leaning in to place his forehead on yours. “Thought you’d never ask.”

KENMA felt indifferent about the list. Nothing about it made sense to him, and he left it at that. It didn’t matter how many times his friends brought it up, or how many people whispered about it during lectures—He had no opinion on it.

“You’re not even a little curious?” Hinata asked.

“No. Not in the slightest.”

The two of them were chilling in the canteen, in the student gaming section, both occupied with their own respective poisons. While Hinata farmed pixelated fruit on his switch, Kenma battled npcs on the public-shared ps4. The copper-head talked on and on about trivial subjects since they’ve arrived, ranging from tough assignments he nearly failed to new moves he tried in volleyball, while the quieter of the two responded occasionally when he felt it necessary.

Hinata gasped, looking up from his game in genuine surprise. “Whoa, Bakayama said the exact same thing. You and him are probably one of the few guys I know who aren’t interested in knowing if they’re on the list. Well, you two and Suckyshima. And Sakusa-san...and...”

This went on for a good minute.

Kenma sighed, neutral expression not matching the rapid movement of his thumbs across the controller. “It’s just some dumb list. Not like it benefits anyone.”

“Sure it does! I heard it brought lots of people together,” Hinata paused, tilting his head as he hummed in thought. “Although, I also heard it split people up, too. And caused a lot of rumors…and got that one professor fired…”

Yet another minute, passed.

Kenma couldn’t help but snort, at least finding his rambling endearing enough to stomach yet another pointless conversation about that accursed list—Why people were so obsessed with it was beyond him.

“Sounds like a lot of drama. No thanks.”

There’s silence between the two of them, the sound effects from their games being the only thing filling the space. Kenma continued rapidly mashing buttons, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the level. However, he couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched. They were in a public space, sure, but…something definitely felt off. Choosing to ignore it, he refocused on the game. Hinata just finished up harvesting his watermelons when he suddenly let out a teasing chuckle.

“I wonder if [______] checked.”

Kenma’s thumbs stop. His character was taking incredible amounts of damage, but none of it registered after the mere mention of your name; the pudding-head flushed red. After a moment, he regained composure and went back to smashing buttons, ignoring how slippery his hands just got.

“…Why would they do that?” He muttered.

Hinata shrugged, “Well, just because you’re not curious doesn’t mean they aren’t. Believe it or not, you’re a good looking guy, Kenma-san. And if there’s a fuck-list going around where my s/o might end up on it, I’d wanna be the first to know.”

Hm. Couldn’t argue with that. He always feared you’d end up on the list, but eventually realized it only catered to a certain demographic, mostly focused on the more sociable students, so he figured there was no other reason to care. It’d be a waste of time, Kenma knew for a fact there’d be no chance of him being on it, his outward appearance be damned.

He practically spent his first couple of semesters cooped up in his room, going to class, bare minimum socializing, streamed with his camera off, rinsed and repeated. He didn’t make many new friends during that time, and met you completely by happenstance during a late night cram session in the library; how in the fresh hell would anyone think about fucking him if he rarely gave other people the time of day?

Kenma kissed his teeth, “You’re being annoying.”

Hinata merely flashed a bright grin, leaning over to playfully poke him in the arm. “Don’t mind~!”

The dirty-blonde playfully swatted at the intruding hand, earning a bright laugh and another poke from the ginger just for shits n’ giggles, before he returned back to his video game. Unfortunately, the eyes around him didn’t falter, some being less obvious about it whilst others didn’t even try to hide their blatant staring. After a while it started to get uncomfortable, even Hinata couldn’t help getting concerned once he started to notice.

“Uh…is it just me, or are we drawing in a crowd?”

“I dunno. Maybe they’re just waiting for me to get off the game…” Kenma reasoned. But deep down, something told him that wasn’t the case at all.

After some time passed with the situation not getting any better, he decided to just call it a night. There was no point in trying to relax anymore with all those people pointing and whispering. As he began to leave the game, not bothering to save his progress, his phone buzzed. Immediately, Kenma knew it had to have been you—He kept everyone else on DND. When he unlocked his phone, though, the gamer was shocked to see the overwhelming amount of notifications on the screen, all from his closest friends, minus the one he’s currently with.

It appeared they’d been trying to get his attention for a while. You must’ve been the last resort, as your message urged him to meet at your place. He didn’t need to be told twice, grateful for this escape from the prying eyes of the random bystanders.

“I’m heading over to [_____]’s. Sorry to cut our time short.”

The ginger simply smiled. “It’s okay, know you don’t like crowds. See ya later, Kenma-san!”

Kenma curtly nodded, offering a tiny smile in gratitude. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made haste for the nearest exit, keeping his gaze locked on the ground until he made it outside. He could feel the eyes following him as he left, making a cold chill run down his spine. He couldn’t wait to get to your place.

When he eventually arrived, his knuckle barely grazed the door before it flew wide open, startling him a little. Before he even had time to catch his jumping heart, you pulled him into your embrace, making him tense up slightly until he soon melted into your familiar warmth. Sanctuary.

“I’m so sorry, Ken. You must be devastated.”

“Um, I’m fine...” he mumbled. Your arms only grew a little tighter around him, as if you were…shielding him? Eventually you pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his eyes for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Why would I be devastated?”

You blinked widely at him. “You mean you hadn’t seen it?”

He squinted, visibly confused, and your silence did little to calm his wariness. Another cold chill traveled down his spine, hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up as he struggled to figure out what this feeling meant. It wasn’t until after you gave a strained smile, sympathy swirling within your gaze, did it eventually hit him like a semi truck. The flooded messages, the suffocating stares, the whispers...It couldn’t be.

He slowly began to shake his head. “No...”

You exhaled. “Yes.”

‘Kenma Kozume. 5′6ft recluse with the mannerisms of a kitten. But don’t let his meek demeanor fool you—it’s always the quiet ones you need to look out for. Though his posture may appear questionable, we all know it’s because of the monster between his legs dragging him down, baggy clothes no doubt concealing an absolute masterpiece of toned skin for you to mark up. The effort he puts into playing video games, don’t expect the same amount in the bedroom. I believe Kenma to be a lazy Switch with Sub energy, who’ll spend most of the session on his back, but that’s okay. We stan a pillow prince. 9/10.’

He looked at your phone with mild disgust. “You’re fucking joking.”

“'fraid not. It was posted less than an hour ago, probably while you were gaming with Hinata. Kuroo was the first to see it, and sent it to the groupchat. That’s why I assumed you had seen it already. Dammit, I knew someone would notice how hot you were sooner or later. And here I thought I was doing a good job gate-keeping you. ”

“Don’t just say stuff like that out loud...” He flushed, tugging on your sleeve in mild embarrassment. After composing himself, Kenma let out an irritated exhale. “What a pain. Whatever, this’ll probably blow over by tomorrow. Someone else will be posted and they’ll forget all about me. Guess I’ll just keep an even lower profile until then. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Laying together on your Snorlax beanbag chair, Kenma turned on his stomach to bury himself in the plush cushion, wanting to forget this whole nightmare. But, you weren’t gonna let him wallow so easily. Tugging on the shoulder part of his sleeve to get his attention, Kenma groaned before tilting his head slightly to peek at you with one eye through the curtain of his hair.

“You don’t understand, Ken. Bitches practically froth at the mouth for the sexy, socially awkward, gamer-boy type with the messy hair and lax attitude. I would know, I am bitches!” He snickered softly, rolling his visible eye. “My point is, this most definitely will not blow over by tomorrow. Not when they’re already hooked on the fantasy of you.”

“Exactly, a fantasy.” He said, slightly muffled. Shifting to lay on his back, Kenma rested his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “Meaning they’ll never get to know the real thing, so eventually they’ll get bored. You shouldn’t work yourself up over this, kitten.”

“Yeah, but what if someone-”

Reaching over, Kenma gently flicked your forehead. With a soft yelp, you half-heartedly glared at him before going to retaliate with your own flick. He merely grinned, eyes full of mirth as he swiftly grabbed the hand and used it to pull you in closer. “They won’t. And even if they do, I'll just get Kuroo to tell one of his lame jokes to scare ‘em off. Problem solved.”

You lightly hit his arm, but still graced him with a laugh. Somewhere on campus, said rooster-head sneezed.

#🍁wasabi #hq #hq!#hq scenarios #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #hq kageyama #hq akaashi #hq atsumu #hq kenma #the fuck-it list

9K notes · View notes

renardiererin · 1 year

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rintarou suna is such a pussy enthusiast. i don’t make the rules, he will eat pussy like a starved man. he isn’t clean in any way. he will dive into your core and hook his arms around your thighs, holding you flush against his face even well after you’re sobbing and overstimulated out of your mind.

“please rintarou it hurts”

“come on princess just a few more for me, you taste so good.”

he will scrape his teeth against your clit to watch your back arch, and flick the tip of his tongue against your most sensitive spots until you’re uncontrollably cumming in his mouth. he won’t stop for anyone or anything, he goes until he decides he’s satisfied. just the taste of your pussy is enough to get him leaking in his pants. sometimes if he’s in a certain mood, he might even pump himself into his hand and let his eyelids shut as he moans into your overused pussy.

he’ll tonguefuck you by shoving his talented muscle into your stretched hole, hitting your g spot with every thrust of his tongue. he’ll eat your pussy until your juices are streaming down his chin and smeared all over the bottom half of his face and he won’t even bat an eye.

he will eat pussy like it’s his last meal and he’s on death row.

rintarou suna is the messiest pussy eater in the world and he takes no shame in it.

14K notes · View notes

sluttsumu · 5 months

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DOUBLE TROUBLE

.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya

in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.

warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune

two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.

— ♡︎ —

“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.

the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.

there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.

atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.

“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.

“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.

osamu really was a genius.

“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.

*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*

“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.

“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?

“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.

white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,

halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.

a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.

“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.

he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.

the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.

“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!

“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.

“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.

“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?

money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.

atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.

“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”

in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.

meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.

bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.

“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.

“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”

“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.

“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”

—♡︎—

suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.

the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.

you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.

it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.

you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.

“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”

the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.

the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.

hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.

“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”

guess i’ll be the first, he thought.

suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.

atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.

“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.

“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”

the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.

“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.

“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.

it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.

atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.

“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.

“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.

the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.

simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”

“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”

“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.

the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.

atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.

but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”

“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.

he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.

“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.

“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.

“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.

get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.

a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.

frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.

hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.

you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.

he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.

starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.

it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.

“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.

the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.

“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”

—♡︎—

osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.

you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.

“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.

the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.

he has drugs just laying in his room?

“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.

he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.

“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”

osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.

“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.

fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.

“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.

every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.

you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.

“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.

the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.

loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.

“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.

you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.

osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.

“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.

your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.

“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.

suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.

“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”

seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.

it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.

absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?

“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”

suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.

“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.

“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.

“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”

the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.

a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.

suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.

hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.

“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.

he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.

“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”

“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”

“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.

“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”

“are you gonna stare or join?”

sluttsumu 2023

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suashii · 9 months

Text

୨♡୧ SWEET NOTHINGS — aftercare with the hq boys.

featuring. miya osamu, suna rintaro, ushijima wakatoshi, sakusa kiyoomi

warnings. f!reader, no explicit smut (still, mdni), food (not used sexually), implied creampie, bathing together, tons of after-sex intimacy. all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ MIYA OSAMU

osamu is a firm believer that the best thing one can do for their body after any strenuous activity, including sex, is to replenish it with food before allowing it to rest. he feeds you often but something feels different about doing the same thing only after sex. it makes for a much more intimate scene, he thinks, being able to share food with his lover after being so vulnerable with each other. it’s yet another way of showing his love for you.

• • •

“what’s on today’s menu?” you ask, sitting up as osamu returns from his quick venture to the kitchen. from behind his back, he reveals the carton of strawberries the two of you picked out from the market this morning. he gently shakes the container, “these sound good?”

you nod enthusiastically, waving him over to join you in bed. his feet carry him to the mattress and he plops down next to you with a comfortable sigh. you watch patiently as he pops open the plastic, fingers hovering above the fruit in search of the best of the batch. he picks the prettiest one he can find and holds the berry out to you, the palm of his other hand facing up beneath the first to serve as a sort of plate. “say ‘ah,’” he opens his mouth, hoping you’ll do the same.

a smile breaks out across your face before you follow his lead and open your mouth to take a bite. you hum as your cheeks tingle and the tartness of the fruit explodes on your tongue. osamu chuckles at your innocent reaction. it takes a moment before he becomes aware of the red-tinted juice dripping down his fingers. he pops them into his mouth before the trail of liquid can travel any farther, smiling around them as you happily bounce up and down on the bed.

₊˚ପ⊹ SUNA RINTARO

he’s never been one to take anything in life too seriously, but you’re one of the few exceptions to his carefree and jovial approach to living. sex with suna is rarely demanding but always passionate. even though he isn’t a particularly rough lover, rintaro acknowledges that you deserve some tending to after making love. in an attempt to keep the mood light, he keeps up his silly antics even while he’s taking care of you.

• • •

“nice game, mvp,” suna quips as he hands you the cold bottle of water he just grabbed from the fridge. a cheeky grin pulls at his lips upon seeing the way your eyebrows furrow while you take a swig of the beverage. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before sarcastically responding, “your lame charm never fails to make me swoon.”

“you love it,” he argues, taking a seat on the edge of bed the beside you. you turn to him to find a pair of dull yellow eyes already staring back at you. suna smiles before leaning forward to cup your cheek and slot his lips against yours. the kiss is soft and slow, a perfect culmination to an exhausting night. despite his inability to take most things seriously, moments like these are all you need to know that, deep down, suna really cares about you. he pulls away with another of his signature smiles, his thumb and index finger pinching your cheek. “ready to hit the showers?”

you scoff, playfully slapping his hand away. “i can’t believe i let you have sex with me.”

₊˚ପ⊹ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

his touch is gentle and tender; it drastically differs from how he was handling you only moments ago. even though the two versions of wakatoshi are stark contrasts of each other, you’re more than familiar with the soft side of him that emerges after the both of you are worn out and sticky with each other’s cum. words of praise accompany every calculated stroke of the damp, warm washcloth he uses to clean you up.

• • •

“i wasn’t too rough, was i?” ushijima asks as he makes his way back to where you lie, returning from grabbing a few things from the bathroom. he settles on the mattress beside you with a couple of damped towels. dark olive eyes fall on you and you shake your head to gesture that you’re fine.

he nods, taking one of the folded cloths to pat away the sweat from your forehead. nimble fingers brush away any stray strands of hair sticking to your face and you lean into the warmth of his touch. a small smile graces his lips upon seeing how content you are. as much as he’d love to spend the rest of the night with you in his arms, he has to finish getting you cleaned up.

reluctantly, wakatoshi pulls his hand away and reaches for another clean rag. he uses this one to carefully wipe any of the sticky release off of your thighs. you twitch at the contact, still sensitive from your previous activities. he’s told you many times before, but ushijima will never tire saying it. “you did so well, pretty girl.”

₊˚ପ⊹ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

the first thing he does as soon as you both finish is ask how you’re feeling; if you’re alright. as pleasurable as sex is, it can be just as fatiguing. no matter your answer, sakusa’s routine rarely strays; there’s always a warm bath with essential oils waiting for you on nights when the two of you end up naked and tangled in each other’s arms. his ultimate goal is to help you wind down and assure that you’re comfortable.

• • •

“feeling okay?” sakusa’s voice, albeit fairly quiet, startles you. the soft rumble you feel transfer from his chest to your back is somehow simultaneously surprising and comforting. it wasn’t difficult to begin to drift off in the tub filled with warm, bubbly water, the scent of lavender wafting throughout the steamy air.

you hum in satisfaction, letting your eyelids flutter closed once more. you won’t fall asleep this time. “better than okay.”

kiyoomi can hear the exhaustion lingering in your voice. he can feel you melting into it under the pads of his fingers as he massages the supple skin of your thighs. he finished washing you up a few minutes ago but you looked so tranquil that he couldn’t find it in him to move you. you’ll have to get out soon if you don’t want your skin to grow pruney, but sakusa decides to warrant you and himself a little longer in your peaceful bubble.

strong arms pull you closer into his chest, sending a ripple throughout the water. he rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the pulse on your throat. you giggle, wet hand breaking the surface to cradle the side of his face. “perfect,” you whisper.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #osamu x reader #suna x reader #ushijima x reader #sakusa x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #osamu smut #suna smut #ushijima smut #sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #𐙚 after hours

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kissinkou · 22 days

Text

LIKE A CHAMP .ᐟ

ft. msby bokuto

cw : highly suggestive. making out. groping. cursing. stripping clothes. allusions to s3x. petnames (baby). locker room activities with beefy yummy bokuto :3 @omitea @steleir for my wifies !!

wc : 1k

you can hardly hear yourself yelling over the crowd of cheers that erupt through the stands. large signs are held high with famous players jersey numbers, and the stomps of feet throughout the bleachers create a loud rhythmic bang. the boom, boom, boom of shoes against the metal as the athletes fall to the floor in celebration.

your hands clap as you look across the court, smiling wide at your husband who pumps his fist high in the air, loud yell of pure ecstasy coming straight from his mouth. you see him look to the crowd, seemingly searching until he’s able to lock eyes with you. his grin is so wide you feel as though theres a light shining in your eyes, his teammates slapping his back in praise.

bokuto is immediately striding over to you once he gets the go ahead from his coach, practically tackling you into a hug stronger than a bear, squeezing you tight. you can feel the sweat that sticks to his body, seeing a droplet run down his forehead when he pulls back to rattle you by your shoulders.

“ baby ! you saw me, yeah ? you saw me win that point ? did you ? ”

you can’t help but giggle at his frantic need for your praiseful answer, hand coming up to his face with a smile spreading onto your lips.

“ i did. it was a great game ! you did amazing ! im so proud of you, kou. ”

and that’s when you see it. the smallest but mischievous glint that pools into his eyes, and he may try to laugh it off as if it were nothing, but you know him.

you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the earlier words that left your mouth, but it led to your hand being taken and practically dragged to the mens lockeroom.

theres a sudden slam that resonates throughout the echoey walls, your back coming into contact with the locker behind you.

“ what— kou-mmph ! ”

you’re taken by surprise when a pair of lips smash into yours, teeth clashing in a frantic hurry as your question gets stolen from your mouth.

“ m’ sorry baby— i just— please. ” bokuto muffles, plea’s slipping from his mouth between the kisses he leaves on your lips, hot breath fanning over your face.

bokuto’s hands begin to roam across your body now, squeezing at the soft plush of your hips that has you instinctively rolling them onto nothing.

you can feel the tingles that shoot up from your feet to your spine, knees buckling into eachother. there’s a familiar heat that pools into your stomach, and one look at bokuto is all he needs to know his next move.

his lips are still devouring yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip as a silent ask to delve deeper. you allow him, opening your mouth just the slightest bit more so he can push his tongue past your lips and onto yours.

your hands slip from his forearms, traveling up his biceps to the back of his neck. your fingers grasp the small hairs at his nape, which makes bokuto let out a shakey breath into your mouth.

“ you don’t understand— how bad i wanted this. ” he starts, large hands now dangerously close to the plump of your bottom.

“ looked so fuckin’ pretty in the stands baby. just wanted to— have you right then. ” he starts to babble nonsense, groping your ass in a harsh squeeze that has you whimpering in his hold.

his skin is wet, hot, and sticky from the earlier match he had just played. sweat trickled down from his sideburns as it pooled under his chin, and you can feel the buldge in his uniform growing stiffer by the minute. your hand travels to the tent in his shorts, fingers just barely grazes over his print, and bokuto sucks in a harsh hiss through his teeth. always so sensitive.

his mouth begins to peck the corners of your lips, moving south down your neck with sloppy wet kisses. bokuto lets his lips hover over your skin for a moment, before he’s delving into your jugular to leave a soft bite on your most sensitive spot.

“ mm!— kou… ” is what comes out of your mouth next, egging him on before bokuto loses all sense of control he has.

his kisses have grown hungrier, keeping your lips latched onto his as he lifts you from your thighs. he keeps devouring you, effortlessly keeping you upright as he carries you to a separate area of the locker rooms.

there’s a clash and a bang, shower room door swinging open but you both don’t seem to mind it. your legs are wrapped around bokuto’s small waist, his hands on your ass the only thing keeping you steady. your back hits yet another wall, the tile cold against your skin.

“ i want— oh fuck ! ” you yell out in a sudden gasp, taken by surprise by the lukewarm water that shoots out of the showerhead in steamy streams.

you’re both soaked from head to toe in tapwater, and bokuto’s hair starts to fall down, strands tickling his nose. his clothes grow heavy on himself, sinking in to his skin and putting his abs on display through his jersey.

“ what baby ? cmon’, tell me want you want— please ? ” bokuto beckons, mumbling through the lips that trail hot kisses from your neck to your collarbones.

you take a deep, shaky breath to recollect your surroundings, thinking of every possible outcome of the situation at hand. you’re in the locker room showers, for godsake. but you know there’s no turning back now, love and needy lust swirling in you and your husbands irises like a whirlpool of desire.

“ —you. i want you. ”

bokuto’s fervant hands reach to lift the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in a hurry to strip you until you’re bare and for the taking.

you’re both exposed to eachother, hair wet and as soaked as you are as his fingers lay a playful squeeze at the skin of your naked hip. he doesn’t try to hide the neediness that takes over him anymore, pulling and groping any part of you he can get his hands on, your warm flesh being fondled lewdly.

“ i’ll give you whatever you want. you’ll be proud of me then, too, yeah ? ”

©KISSINKOU — do not copy, steal, plagiarize, take inspo from without consulting, or translate my work.

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hxltic · 1 year

Text

“YOU’VE NEVER SQUIRTED?” KENMA

part 1 | part 2

It was actually a really awkward conversation in the kitchen of his apartment. The fresh toast sizzled against your fingers as you removed it from the toaster, the sun shined bright through his black curtains without quit, and because it was in his disposition to be up ungodly hours, you incorrectly assumed he’d hibernate in his room so you planned to head to your friend’s house for breakfast in a full face and clothes you never wore. Or technically, a full face and clothes you only wore out to places you cared about. Otherwise, you didn’t really dress to impress.

500 FOLLOWERS?!

Footsteps sounded from afar and you retrieved the jelly from the fridge mindlessly.

“Where we going?”

Kenma taunted from his seat found on the island stool. You assumed he’d just woken up, accompanied with doing his daily hygiene because his soft voice still had the slightest rasp to it.

“We?” You jokingly snapped back. Kenma scoffed lightheartedly at you. The refrigerator door closed with a slight push, and Kenma sighed to where he could ask again. Some almost fully black stands came to fall in front of his face as he leaned forward on the cold, stone counter and his hair was pulled into a small ponytail, nothing left of the noticeable blonde but disproportional ends that fall into his large hoodie.

“Where are you going?”

You grab the plate but forget the juice for the morning. Back you go to the fridge almost in a rush.

“I’m going to a friend’s for breakfast, it’s this party thing she hosts every year,” you explain. “Almost like a friendsgiving. She takes it suuuuper serious.”

The juice is in one hand, a random cup in another. You twist around to pour the liquid on the island instead of the main countertop so you could engage in quick conversation with Kenma. As he got older he’s become more expressive and outgoing, just willingly reserved. He has, however, become a handful; and having lived with him, you’ve seen him take shots like a champ. You see his aloofness dissolve, his eyebrow coming up the slightest bit.

“And you’re eating breakfast before going to eat breakfast?” He slowed the pace of his words around the end of the sentence like he was judging you.

“I have to eat in the morning still, or I’ll pass out before I even get there Kenma! I’m kinda a little late though so you can heckle me when I get back.”

“Uhuh…”

Kenma hummed in response with an inconspicuous smirk on his face. You wouldn’t have even seen it if it weren’t for you waiting to see his reaction of your flawless vocabulary. He was however, changing his position to leaning back in the chair, already staring you incredulously. It was somewhat close to a manspread, his hands were tucked into the hoodie pockets, and the sight was way too much for you to handle this early in the morning.

So, you turned around to tend to your idle plate with jelly-less toast on it. You didn’t like Kenma specifically, persay, you would’ve liked it if any boy looked at you like that. Yeah. Don’t think too much about it.

Anyway, with the slide of a drawer you withdrew the knife and got to work. Unbeknownst to you, Kenma had not taken his eyes off your body. Your hair was still slightly wet but it made it easier for you to style. It was up. The backless halter top you wore was connected only by a string at your nape, and it left skin between that and your skinny jeans that fell down to your open toe, clear strap heels. You were dressed perfect for the summer occasion of a girls day out. And he was absolutely sulking in it.

“You look good.”

You hate the slight pause in your actions. You hate the way you had to question if he was talking to you or not, even if you were the only one in the house. You hate that you refuse to turn around to him. You hate the giddy smile that decorated your face. You hate that you had to cover up how everything you hated affected you, so you say “Thank you; flatter me more.”

He just outwardly chuckled, and ended with a “Maybe.” He starts again, “Hey is this who you were on the phone with last night? Who’s at the party I mean.”

“Hm?” Your chin did lead over your shoulder at this. “Yes actually, I’m surprised I’m up as early as I am considering she kept me up all night.” You resume.

“Tell her I said she should break up with him.”

You agree, “I will; she definitely needs to hear it.”

…

Suddenly, you snap your head back around quick enough to give you whiplash. You don’t get embarrassed easily, but you had to be blushing like a bitch.

This time Kenma’s smirk was very noticeable. You blink warily at him.

“Ken… how much did you hear?” Your voice was soft with curiosity mixed and thrown into fear. He just shrugged casually and quickly switched to an innocent façade. One thing you learned about him over the years: he has a badass poker face. And he’s a dick.

Such a dick, in fact, that after reassuring “I wasn’t eavesdropping so I didn’t hear much,” he let you take deep breaths of relief and turn back around to lather your second piece of toast. You felt the golden, low, cat-like eyes burning through the back of your head—so with indecision and obscurity—you looked over your shoulder again. He wore a shit eating grin.

You pointed the butterknife at him accusingly.

“You fucking liar! You heard all of it!!”

Kenma just smiled menacingly.

“I did hear all of it actually; but pushing that aside, why do I feel like I’ve never heard you say some of the words you said?” He tilts his head to the side, completely dismissing you.

“Kenma!?”

“Say pussy.”

This made you stop. You found him unbelievable, and you’d never admit what hearing him say pussy does to your mind, but his head was sideways in pure amusement like he was waiting on you to do it.

“Kenma. What.”

“Say it.”

You just stared at each other.

“Pussy,” you finally repeated. After lingering in the air a bit Kenma’s eyes went wide and he threw his head back to diminish into laughter.

“Kenmaaa.” You groaned loudly. He only laughed harder. “What all did you hear? Seriously!”

He calmed down to just a grin and ushered you to be as well with the palm of his hand.

“Okay okay—mainly the part where she explains how she hates the guy because she feels like he ignores her and has never made her cum—plus some other stuff, blah blah, that’s basically it,” He rambles.

It was your turn for your eyes to run wide, so in astonishment that your body couldn’t even address the other words that rolled out his mouth so easy. “I don’t want basically, I want all of it,” you declare.

“There’s not much more unless you’re including all the other dumb shit he did? Like how he told his friends she did something even if she didn’t, and she felt invalidated about it. I have amazing input on these types of situations by the way.”

Kenma was saying all this without any negative emotion, relaying it to you with normalcy. “The only thing after that was about yourself.”

You roll your eyes, but bingo. So he did hear it. He heard what you didn’t want him to. Your face may have dropped a tiny bit.

“…What was it? About how…I have—“

“—never squirted?” He finishes. Your chest tightened a little, and your face was red with what was anger transforming into something else. His ordinary apathetic gaze was locked on yours for a tiny moment, so you made it your responsibility to look away and grab your food.

“Gotta go now, I’m already late.” You swiftly unhooked the keys from the wall and opened the door. It wasn’t his fault he heard (because to be honest you two weren’t the quietest last night during your girl talk), but just now the fact that he knew upset you. Your best friend made it seem so easy, like she does it all the time, and it just made you seem like you were missing out how she explained it.

However, on your way out, Kenma did call for you from the kitchen. “Not everyone can do it,” He said. It was reassurance, you assume, but it didn’t really come off as such. He then says (more to himself you also assume), “Not everyone can make you do it either.”

This sat with you the whole breakfast/brunch party, champagne being passed around like candy but nothing could stop you from thinking about it. Of course it being a whole room of the closest friends, she re-explained last night’s gossip, the effects hitting you again as your friends chimed in on the situation. Was it really as good as they say?

——•——

You unlocked the house door, the apartment dim and quiet. It was around four now, you weren’t completely sober, and your heels clacked along the tile.

Dropping your arm to sit your purse on the counter and hang the keys, you undo a single strap and slip the shoes off. You carry them in your hand for the journey to your room.

Of course before you can reach your door, there’s Kenma’s slightly cracked open one to remind you of what he said. Not everyone can make you do it either.

What does that even mean; can’t you do it alone? Do you need someone else for it?

You weren’t dumb and at least knew what he was implying. It was an offer. Or maybe it wasn’t, and you’re just horny. Either way you find yourself stopped in front of the entrance to his room. You don’t bother to knock, it falls open with a slight push of your free hand.

Kenma resides at his setup, on his phone, the mic wrapped around his neck. The few moving lights in his room softly radiated from his pc, making him appear to be different strong shades of red and orange depending on when you looked. He didn’t seem to be streaming. Or he could be—he isn’t the nicest to his viewers.

He casts you a glance past his hair but dismisses your presence. You don’t really ever come into his room except to just grab something and go, usually a hair product.

You take a few steps inside. Then, you leisurely drop the heels at his bedside so he finally acknowledges your company.

“Ken?” Your delicate voice breaks the silence of the outside, completely unsure if there was music running through his headphones.

He clicks his phone off so you have his full attention.

“What’s up? How was it?”

You continued taking slow steps forward, with only one thing on your mind. And it wasn’t the party. “It was okay.”

Kenma surveys how you have yet to halt, inching closer and closer to him. It only took a slight examination of your face to see the solemnity. Blankness. He stands up from his seat and removes the headset from himself in concern before you can get any closer.

“You sure? You don’t look—“

“—Kenma. What did you say earlier?” You whisper. He was now directly in front of you.

He pauses for a second and his face converts to disbelief. “Are we still talking about the squirt thing?” He smiles mischievously, “I was just letting you know not to worry about it so much.”

You hate that word. It’s so gross sounding, so vulgar. But you can’t bring yourself to get him to stop saying it.

“Well I have been, so what happens now?” You peer strangely at each other, both acutely aware of where this was going.

“And you’re coming to me for this, why?” The ravenette taunts. He knew exactly why you were in his room right now, the curiosity having ate away at you all day. Like an itch that won’t go. You’ve gotta give in if this’ll go anywhere.

“Well you seem to know a lot about it…” you fumble with your bracelet nervously. You’ve gotten this far. “Could you…maybe help me?”

Kenma makes no sudden movements. He scans you suspiciously. A slight flush of red may have spread across your cheeks, but the darkness around you was protective. Hearing it actually come out of your mouth was a whole different story than imagining it.

“You want me to make you squirt?” He confirmed.

You may have physically cringed at that sentence because his hands find his sweat pockets in a ‘you said it not me’ manner.

“Yes.”

He scanned you again for good measure.

“Alright.”

With this he turned on his heel, stepped away, and sat in his gaming chair again. You stood there blankly, unaware of what to do. “Come here.”

You follow him to his setup. He sighs because he could see how uncomfortable you were.

“What usually do you do to get off?” He questions. He twists you around by your hips, your back facing him.

“Uh…It’s just kinda alone in my room I guess. I use my fingers usually.” You tried to keep your voice low enough to cure your embarrassment. Kenma, however, seemed to be doing this with ease. In fact, as he was asking you questions, he massaged your hips and waist soothingly.

“Is that it? You don’t watch or think about anything?”

You turn your head, “No. Am I supposed to?”

“I mean it’s not mandatory but you gotta think about something.”

“Whatever. Jeez, Kenma just say you think about me already.” You quip. Whatever he was doing was working, you were loosening up.

“Only when I’m about to cum. How do you like to be talked to?”

What?

You weren’t even going to ask about it. It was probably a joke anyway.

A moment of processing silence passed. “I don’t really know how I like to be talked to. Guys have tried to praise or degrade me but it never worked, so I just assumed I didn’t like the talk at all.”

He tugs on the shirt string at your neck. He watches you tense up at the action, so he rubs your trap in slow, circular motions instead. “If I say I like to be praised, all they do is say ‘good girl’ over and over. Gets kinda boring you know?” Is this you venting to Kenma about your boring sex life? Of course. You mess with your nails as you face away from him. Not for long though, because he turns you around.

“This is what I meant by not everyone can make you do it. Only you can guarantee yourself the highest pleasure 100% of the time,” Kenma drags you by your belt loops so you fall into the chair against him, “and me.”

He was so close now, your knees sliding under the chair arm. His breath could be felt on your skin and his hands were still pawing at your waist to glide up your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to put your full weight on him. However, he pulls you down anyway, and manually places your hands along his clothed chest so you could calm down. That was all he wanted from you right now. To relax and to take deep breaths.

“Warnings would be great Ken.”

“Yeah, but you said you don’t like to talk.”

“I don’t.”

“So should I warn you about how hard you make me dressed up like that?”

You moderately gasped at the comment placed right into your collarbone. You pressed down a tiny bit farther to see if you could feel it. You could. His breath fanned against your body and airy kisses lead.

You wonder where all of Kenma’s shyness over the years went because now you would never have guessed him to be like this. The friction fuels him to push you more.

Kenma could go on and on about these random intrusive thoughts he only gets at night—the only time where you seem to engulf his brain. Living with you over the years has been fine with zero temptation, but recently, it’s been like a hormone specifically for you snapped in his body. He feels the way you roll your hips the smallest bit for yourself. You liked the talk, just not the guys.

Soft fingers pull on a single string near your hair, releasing your breasts from the top as the fabric folded downwards between the two of you.

©️ hxltic

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tteokdoroki · 2 years

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✉️; SWEATER SEASON. - T.KAGEYAMA.

💌; synopsis - your boyfriend finds you wearing a piece of old high school memorabilia, his number nine kurasuno jersey, and it drives him absolutely insane.

↳ length: 2.07K

↳ warnings: smut, mdni 18+, fem!reader, characters aged up to 20s, post-time skip!au, unprotected sex, clothed sex, pussy jobs, soft/mean!kageyama, praise!kink, reader is wearing kageyama’s clothes.

↳ notes: a very self indulgent piece because i finished hq s4 and cant stop thinking about kageyama ?? it’s giving obsessed with him i think <3! not beta’d ! enjoy my loves hehe - m.list ♡

“are you gonna tell me where you found it? or do i have to fuck it out of you, baby?” kageyama’s voice is tender as he asks, speaking to you like you’re a timid creature or somewhat of a street cat that might scurry away from him at any given moment. but the way he treats you is mean, his hands that are both large enough to cover the globes of your ass grip at your soft flesh— easily pull you back and forth, back and forth on his cock while you’re seated in his lap, your dainty fingertips just peeking out of the sleeves on his cold kurasuno jersey, gripping into his shoulder blades to somewhat ground yourself. “‘m talkin’ to you sweetheart,”

you know that he is, god, you know.

but words are hard to come by when you’re seated on your boyfriend’s cock, letting him bounce you up and down mercilessly until you can practically feel him in your throat. you know kageyama’s talking to you, his pretty girl, angel dressed in nostalgic shades of burnt orange and obsidian black— he loves how you can’t respond, blubbering and babbling incoherent sentences while you hide your swollen lips under the collar of his sweatshirt and drip so sweetly down his shaft from your heavenly little hole.

“uh—oh, mhm…mhm!” is all you can manage, swallowed by fabric that smells like your olympic athlete boyfriend, drowning in the strong waves of lust as he pounds up into your pretty puffy pussy until there are tears in your eyes.

tobio let’s a hand leave your ass to tap at your baby fat cheeks, his dark blue eyes lit up with hunger as he mocks your pout. “words please baby, i know you know them.” it’s almost a joke to him, how weak and needy you get as soon as his milky top pushes past your selfish entrance, and brushes up against your velvety inner walls. he reads it in your eyes, how much you crave him and feels it in your cunt when you spasm and clench down on him, your juices rolling down his lengthy shaft and coating his balls.

he taps your cheek again, and you whimper like a lost little lamb— the traces of a smile spreading across kageyama’s lips. “f-found it in the, fuck, the back of the closet… h’i missed you.” you cry out, gently circling your hips down on your boyfriend’s, droplets in the form of angel tears clumping in your lashes. kageyama’s smile widens, the hand in your cheek wrapping around the back of your neck, tilting your head up to kiss him.

you let the fabric of the kurasuno jersey fall down to your chin, head angled perfectly to meet his lips and let your tongue slide wetly over the seam— begging your boyfriend to let you in. and he does, he lets you take charge of the searing and sloppy, spit slicked kiss. he lets you lick into his mouth and squeak against his tongue while he dominates the rest of your body buried beneath his old clothes. tobio feels you lean into him, free falling into his love and his desire while his hands slip under the sweatshirt to draw circles into your tummy, tease you by thumbing just under the swell of your breasts where they meet your rib cage before tweaking your nipples with tender love and care.

his cock aches inside you, just knowing that all your beauty, your curves, your pebbled nipples and the marks you have are hidden— no, protected from the hungry gaze of others by his old uniform. it drives kageyama insane, activates animalistic instincts in the back of his brain as he forces his cock as deep as it can go, rubbing his tip against your gummy walls and marking your insides with opaque wads of his messy precum until you’re squelching every time he ploughs into you.

you probably have no idea how fucking good you look right now, like a five course meal served up to the volleyball player on a silver platter. his baby, tobio kageyama’s innocent little baby had no idea of what she was getting herself into when you put on that number 9 kurasuno jersey. no idea that you would be fucked within an inch of your life, perfect pussy stretched over his painfully hot dick— his forked veins brushing up against pleasure spits only kageyama could reach. “h’baby, you could have just, fuck…” the athlete curses, having been pounding into you so hard that his cock slips out of your eager hole, sliding right up against your clit which shines, soaked underneath the you yellow lighting in your bedroom. kageyama shivers when your tiny hand, peeking out from sweater paws to jerk him off. you thumb at his blistering red and seedy tip, you even drool over it too— right before guiding him back inside of your fluttering fat pussy. “there we go…you shoulda called me,”

“y-you were at practice! oh fuck—tobi!” you whine, bristling with desire when kageyama wastes no time fucking your cunt into the shape of him. the bed creeks under the weight of his thrusts up into you, balls slapping heavy against your ass only serving to fill the room with their sensual song. you feel like you might cry, that’s how deep in your guts kageyama is, ruining your body for anyone else, claiming you as the mixture of your arousals froths and gathers at the swelling base of his shaft. whatever your precious cunt drools, quickly gets fucked back into your gushing insides and painted against your spongey g-spot the more your boyfriend throws his hips up to fuck you.

tobio grabs at your hips, holding you up so the only thing you can hump is his mushroomed cockhead, bright red and burning for you. he just wants to see, even though you whine for him put it back in, he just wants to see how raw and swollen your folds are from underneath his clothes— wants to know how much he turns you on. “you think i wouldn’t have left practice to come make my baby feel good?” he asks, pressing his face into your neck and tilting his head up to lick the tears that stream down your face. “volleyball ain’t got shit on this fuckin’ pussy,” he breathes against your skin,

filling you up all over again with one sharp thrust until he’s buried into you right up to the hilt.

and it’s true, not even the satisfaction of smacking a ball straight into the opposite court, not even lining up the perfect set or the smell of rubber sneakers burning against the floor during a tournament could compare to the sweet bliss of your warm, tight cunt wrapped around kageyama’s dick. you’re his favourite thing dressed in the jersey of his first love, humping away at his lap like a bitch in heat.

and kageyama thinks would be the best place in the world to die if it were to happen right now.

“‘m close tobi, i’m gonna cum,” you heave into his ear like it’s a promise, arms looped around his neck where the softness of his jersey rubs against his sweaty skin. “fuck you’re gonna make me cum, o-oh. oh!” your head tilts back when his fingers meet your puffy clit, writing his signature against it while you drool from your mouth and your slit. “tobio.” there’s a warning lilt to the edge of your tone, telling your boyfriend that you can’t hold back and there’s a new feverishness to the way you roll your hips back down to meet his.

so he pushes you onto your back, covering you with his slender body, his lips on yours while your ankles lock at his waist. the angle of kageyama’s hips shift, bullying his tip against your g-spot over and over, smearing precum along your velvety walls and bullying his way into you until you can see stars. he knows the way he fucks you is just right, he can tell by the way your lips form a gentle ‘o’ and the way your nails ( that he paid for ) dig into his toned shoulders and form crescent moons.

“oh right there?” kageyama coos, lips messily finding yours while he pins your waist down to the sex soaked sheets bellow. your face changes, shining with sweat but so blissed out it makes your boyfriend’s hips stutter, losing the rough tempo they set. “ah, here…that feel good baby? yeah? oh fuck i know it’s good.” his words are breathy and shoot straight to your core, making your hole flutter around him— sucking his pulsing cock in selfishly. with his free hand, tobio roughly pushes up his kurasuno jersey that pools over your body right up to your tits— stormy blue eyes laser focused on the way they bounce under the weight of his thrusts.

kageyama is way taller than he was back in high school, but the length of the fabric still has you swimming in it— the volleyball player bunches it up, smiling down at you and uses the material to tug you back onto his dick, barely letting you off it as your clit grinds up against his washboard abs. “oh baby don’t cry, you’ll get to cum. i know you wanna fucking cum. can you do that?” he asks you, and again your words escape you as you’re left a teary eyed mess underneath the dark haired man. “yeahh, yeah you can. there you go.”

“tobi—!” you gasp, orgasm tearing though you as he pressed his entire weight onto you, fucking you hard and fast right through your high. you can’t help it, cunt squeezing down on him hard— juices splashing against kageyama’s stomach, making him almost grateful that he pushed his sweat shirt up to expose your pretty chest. “holy shit— tobio, i can’t, god—i can’t!,” pushing at his shoulders, your heave and hiccup as he picks up the pace and rams into your creamy sex again and again and again, forcing another orgasm out of you.

you fucking squirt, a clear stream pouring from your abused little cunt— eyes rolling back into your skull as a silent scream rattles around in your throat. your hands dart up to grab at midnight black hair, tugging tobio closer, close enough for him to feel you tremble as you cream hard around his dick, practically forcing him out of your hole.

“shit, baby…fuuck there you go, that’s it,” kageyama sighs against your wet lips, one arm outstretched over your head to grip the head board— the other between your bodies so he can tap his sensitive cockhead against your glistening and gushing pussy, running it up and down through the length of your slit. “mmhm, fuck you did so good, my good girl.” he stutters, lashes fluttering against your shoulder as he listens to the sticky sounds your puffy folds make while he glides through them. he kisses the tears that sit on the apples of your cheeks, using your shaky body to get himself off until he finds himself cumming against your cute little clit. a layer of thick white coats your hot mound and as he takes hold of his dick, tobio pushes the mix of your arousals back into you, shallowly fucking your hole as you twitch with the after shocks of your orgasm before he eventually settles inside you so you cockwarm him.

kageyama rolls off of you, pulling your leg high over his hip while you snuggle into him. “‘m sticky,” you complain, forming tiny fists against his chest. through the sleeves of your boyfriend’s kurasuno jersey.

“you’re sticky ‘n so pretty baby,” kageyama’s cheeks are pink tinted from exertion, a soft smile on his lips while feeling you up from under the kurasuno colours. “want you to wear this more often…you look really good in it.”

twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers. “i’ll wear whatever it takes to get you to fuck me like that again, tobi.” you purr into the shell of his ear, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “you’ll want to get spares of your japan team uniform as well.”

“oh yeah?” tobio hums, eyes on yours, cock twitching softly inside of you. “how come?”

“‘cause when you bring home a medal f’me, i can’t guarantee i won’t make a mess on you.”

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forusomimiya · 7 months

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"Be quiet, my parents are home" Bokuto couldn't even keep his own promise. Not if he had a close-up of your ass going up and down on his cock. "Ive never wanted to fuck someone as badly as i want to fuck you rn"

You covered your mouth to stifle your moans as Bokuto took control of your ass, handling it as he pleased, jerking off slowly and pleasurably with it at the same time as his mouth watered as he admired his cock disappearing completely in your pussy. "Does that feel good?" a groan and your eyes rolling back served as your reply as he bottomed out. "So pathetic".

“Please— Don’t st-”

"Shut up and take it just like that baby, just like that!" his heart shrank at the thought that his parents might have heard you, which was no wonder when Bokuto set his feet up on the bed to fill you deeper as he was meant to, filling the room with dirty and noisy onslaughts. The night was long and he wasn't going to waste your visit. "Lay on me baby girl, 'cause I got more, I got— fucking more"

A chuffed smile shone on your face, Bokuto's touch on your body melting into his as he disappeared and became a bag of moans and whimpers lashing in your ear. "Give me all, birthday boy"

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x imagines #kotaro bokuto smut #koutaro bokuto smut #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader smut #bokuto x y/n #bokuto x you #bokuto koutaro x reader #hq bokuto #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto kōtarō #koutaro bokuto

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sunasstxrz · 2 months

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texts with boyfie suna!

you’re drunk in one of them// kinda afab? he says princess and ma’am and reader talks about misogyny

tw:suggestive (rin sends a shirtless picture and reader is normal about it!)

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kiwanopie · 2 years

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Business as Usual

Based of this. Ceo!Kiyoomi x Reader

cw: fluff. smut. breeding. oral sex (f!receiving). reader is an aspiring actress. reader is a foreigner but it isn’t specified from where. ceo!kiyoomi’s most recent business venture is building and opening a museum. probably for tax reasons lmao. misogyny (not by kiyoomi). Kiyoomi’s implied to have issues with his father. men talking business 😫. joke talk of killing.

wc: 3.5k

Ahh, something sweet would be nice…

Kiyoomi’s already squeezing grooves into the back of your thighs before you can formally acknowledge him. “I have a case of chuppets in the freezer you can go at.”

Your gasp is muffled by the floor, half turned from where your bottom half is lazily propped up on the edge of the bed. “You do?”

“You like the strawberry kind, right?” You nod as his fingers creep toward the crotch of your panties. “They’re all yours.”

He can feel the area carpet vibrate from where your groan seeps in appreciatively. “You’re a god, Omi!”

The squeak you let out is pitched as he lands a hard smack on one of your cheeks.

“I gotta meet a couple of investors for lunch so I’m leaving one of my cards for you to order whatever you want from home.” Kiyoomi pulls you apart until your lips part from under your underwear, glistening for him like they should. “But I’ll be back before it gets too late.”

You sway your hips as he pulls your panties to the side, already rubbing tentative circles. “You’re still pretty wet from earlier,” And you can’t help but whine as he pushes two of his fingers inside. “How long do you think you can stay in this position?”

Your eyes nearly cross when he crooks his fingers. “Ah, as long as you need me to.”

His suit pants hiss against the bed sheets as he climbs in behind you, hands still firmly gripping onto your ass cheeks as he positions himself on the bed.

“I got twenty minutes before I need to be walking out the door.” Kiyoomi’s breath is hot against your bare cunt. “So, I’ll try to make this fast-“

The lewd squelching of his tongue parting you from the back would be enough to make you shiver if not for the way he laves you up. Scouring your hole with his hot tongue and groaning at the taste of you, pressing forward to dig himself deeper.

“F…Fffuck! Omi…!”

He’s insatiable as he digs you out with his tongue, lewd as he guides your hips up to tongue at your clit. The depravity at which he slurps you up is so unabashed that you’re already tensing up for an orgasm, and reaching back when he props you up with his hands; zeroing in on your clit to get you to cum in his mouth.

You must’ve already been too riled up from his treatment earlier this morning, it doesn’t take long till you’re nearly sobbing against the floor. Calling for him as he guides you into an orgasm.

“Fuck! I’m-… m’ cumming, Omi!” You pant. “m’cumming! m’cumming!”

The way he grunts into you has another shock wave zipping through the bend in your spine. “Mhm..”

You’re reaching back to push him away when the feeling starts to become overstimulating, but he’s already up on his knees again. Already pulled out of his pants and hungrily lining himself up with your clenching hole.

Kiyoomi doesn’t give you any time to prepare, he’s shoving himself in between breaths and making you choke on your tongue.

He hisses through his teeth. “Oh fuck.” He braces his hands on your sides and starts his pace. “….Oh my god. Fuck.”

Your fingers dig thin miscolorings into the carpet as his thrust knocks the wind out of your lungs. Whining out when he dumps most of his weight on your back and starts grinding in as deep as he’ll go.

He’s in your stomach. “Mhf… angel..” He presses his lips into your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good for me, baby.”

God, the sounds you’re making under him has his eyes rolling back in his head, let alone how you’ve already started milking him for all he’s worth. He could never get sick of this perfect little pussy. His perfect little pussy. So hot and tight and made just for him. He doesn’t even know how he’s gotten this far without it. Especially when he knows how to press all those perfect little buttons on the inside to make you squeal for him.

Kiyoomi supports himself on his arms again to tweak his angle, balls clenching when you start to whine out so prettily. “Kiiiiyomi!”

You reach back so suddenly to push against his button up that he has to pin your arms down to keep you from running away from it. “….s’okay baby you can take it.” He pounds in a few particularly forceful thrusts that turn your whines into hiccuping sobs. “Fuck. Look at you such a…. Good girl for me. Good fucking girl.”

He has to hold himself back from cumming too quickly when you start to clench up. “Omi! Omi! Omi!” You’re shrill. “s’good, Omi! ….m’cumming, Omi! ….I love you, Omi!”

“Oh fuck.. Fucking shiiit!”

You’re already milking him empty when you start to cum. Hiccuping at the way you clench around his hot seed as his thrusts deepen and he fucks you like he’s trying to get it to take. Even reaches into your panties to rub coaxing circles into your sensitive clit just to prolong your orgasm. Grinding himself in until he's certain he’s painted your insides with his spend, and even then he still keeps at it.

He’s still rocking into you when your sobs turn into overstimulated mewls, hot tears making puddles into the carpet.

Kiyoomi lazes a few hot kisses into your inner neck as he softly collides his head with yours. “Mh, I love you too, angel.” He breathes. “So much.”

“You mean it, Omi?” He’s the luckiest man alive.

He finally lets himself fall limp as he peppers a few chaste kisses over your ears. “More than anything.”

He’s never letting you go.

•••••••

There’s a less than usual air of ease around him when he greets Yukko and his associate Kanon.

So much so that the former of the pair lets out a relieved breath as he shakes hands with the young tycoon - and sees he doesn’t revile at the extended contact.

“Sakusa-san,” Yukko bows. “You look better than new.”

Sakusa bows back manneredly. “Appreciated, Yukko-san.”

—-

Sakusa folds his napkin over his lap as they wait for the drinks.

“We’re avid supporters of freedom of choice, the two of us.” Yukko fixes himself in his seat. “It’s a human right.”

Kanon nods. “And your speech on autonomy and liberation at the Kenshin’s banquet really stood out to us. It’s so reassuring to see you setting a standard for this newer generation and putting yourself out there as someone who stands with the people.” He presses. “Very few young men with your upbringing can say that they’re brave enough to do the same-“

“Educated enough, even.” Yukko finishes.

Sakusa pulls his seat closer to his chair. “You don’t have to praise me for something like that. It should be a given.” He hums cooly. As if the speech wasn’t written by his foreigner girlfriend the night before, beat into his head and recited in his ear even as he said it. Not that he doesn’t agree with the message though. “We’re the few people fortunate enough to have a voice when it comes to these things - we should exercise it whenever we get the chance.”

“You’re exactly right!” Yukko waves his finger at him. “There are so very few people like us - like you - who have a seat at the table. And so little of the seats go to someone who means any good with it.”

“Which is why we wanna invest in The International Institution of Innovation,” Kanon adds. “And why we would like to suggest an exhibit to accompany our investment,”

Sakusa nods as they continue. “Japan’s history as - a lot of the world’s history - is ballasted and rewritten with elitist biases in mind. So many little people who’ve done big things, cultural things, buried by mediocrity or the praises of people who lived their entire lives being praised. Worse, having the things they spent their entire lives dedicated to, miscredited to some rich guy who didn’t lift a finger.”

“Our people have worked with a few of the families of these people. There’s a-“ Yukko taps a few keys into his laptop before turning it in Sakusa’s direction. “A few small museums of our own we’ve built in Portugal, Brazil, we have one in an American city you’ve most likely heard of as Las Vegas.”

He reaches over to quietly slide through the pictures. And Kanon huffs a bit in disbelief. - Whoever said this guy was a pain to work with obviously must’ve bumped into the wrong guy. “They’ve garnered a lot of attention in the respective areas. A lot of what they call “Left wing movements” in the United States cite it a lot when referring to landmarks in the state.” Yukko says.

And landmarks they are. If this is what they call small then he must work in a shoebox?

“You haven’t considered opening one up in Japan until now?” Sakusa furrows.

“You know the climate in the world right now.” Kanon sighs. “With the rise of crime, certain political tensions,” There’s a familiar pattern of vibrations that ring off in his pocket, he reaches for it instinctively. “We didn't wanna risk building one in the current political climate and having it destroyed by opening.”

Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “So building an exhibit in my museum is more cost effective.” And he’s not afraid to look as unimpressed as he is. “You know, on the off chance that my museum gets destroyed in this current political climate.”

Well, it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford it. “Well, we’re more than willing to do our part on the expenses if something like that were to occur.” We’ll pay what we lose and dip. “And our investment excludes what we’ll pay to build the exhibition.”

“You’re paying to have your names on a plaque.”

Yukko chuckles somewhat. “In short terms, yes.”

Sakusa fishes his phone out of his pocket as their server approaches. “In long terms?”

Kanon slides him the check.

Yup. Sakusa grazes his thumb against that familiar strip of press. Those are some pretty long terms.

“Are we ready to order?”

Sakusa checks his messages as the two men speak before him.

Angel: i hope ur having a good lunch!! i got u a sooprise <3

Kiyoomi: It’s alright. I wish I was home with you more than anything.

Kiyoomi: A sooprise? Now I’m excited.

Angel: i wish you were here too :( i can’t wait till ur back so i can give you a kiss on the forehead

Angel: i hope u like it!! i know u haven’t had it in a while

Kiyoomi: I haven’t had it in a while? What’s something I haven’t had in a while?

Kiyoomi: Oh! Are we talking about the last time you sat on my face?

Angel: we are not, my love. but good guess

My love. He smiles.

“What about you, Sakusa-san?”

Sakusa glances at the server before looking off for a moment, answering curtly. “Okaki, please.”

He nods. “Alright! And anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

He leaves with a bow.

Sakusa inhales deeply as he sits his phone on the table. Picking up the check and holding it before glancing at the two sitting before him. “You two are very generous.”

Yukko raises an eyebrow. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d like to add your exhibit to my museum.”

The two men both let out a collective sigh of relief. Now that the richest twenty-six year old in all of Asia has agreed to have their names engraved next to his on a project like this. - Even if it did cost them an arm and a leg. You know, from the stories they’ve heard, they were expecting to leave with their tails between their legs after offering to impede on a project orchestrated by the most “Pragmatic Rich Kid in the country.” But he’s… surprisingly personable. Even without mention of the sheer intimidation he exudes.

He’s certainly nothing like his father.

“That’s amazing to hear, Sakusa-san. We’re honored.” Kanon sighs.

Yukko nods. “And trust, you will be involved in every part of the construction process. We want to be as transparent as possible when installing this exhibit.”

“Do you have any blueprints drawn up?”

Yukko hums excitedly as he pulls his laptop toward him again, tapping loudly as he searches for the file. “We do!”

Sakusa patiently waits as he fishes through his laptop, glancing at the server as he comes back with their food.

His phone buzzes across the table.

Angel: You better be eating more than Okaki!

He visibly blushes.

Kanon furrows at the expression of the young billionaire in front of him as his associate busies himself with his laptop, following his eyes toward his phone.

Disregarding the text from his girlfriend?! He gasps at the picture on his lock screen.

“Is that _____?” Kanon asks. “Oh god she’s so talented!”

Sakusa nods a little abashedly as he reaches for his phone. “Are you a fan?”

“My daughters love her. Oh well, my sons do too but not in the way my daughters do - If you know what I mean.” He laughs as Sakusa’s back straightens. He knows his sons, knows they’re about his age if not a little older. Knows he might have to have a talk with them one day too.

“We saw her just recently at the Blue Ribbon Awards. Can you believe she won?” Yeah, after watching you work yourself to the bone just to come back with so little to show for it. “I for sure thought Tomomi Minoru would’ve had it.”

I’m sure you haven't heard that a million times.

“But who wouldn’t take it a little easy on a woman like that?”

Or that.

It’s nearly painful how much Sakusa’s trying to keep himself from outwardly scowling. Especially when Kanon starts to open his mouth again, familiar hearts in eyes most men seem to adopt when they’re drooling over the woman he’s in love with. “I’ve gotta be what - twice her age maybe. But we’re all men here? The woman’s a doll. Talk about lucky work. Especially for a foreigner.”

Oh yep, he’s scowling. “I wonder what she looks like in person.” Yukko asks absently. “You think she’s as pretty as she is on T.V. or do you think it’s the make-up they usually cake on there…”

“She’s breathtaking.” Sakusa says flatly.

Kanon tilts his head as Yukko glances over. “You’re kidding? You’ve seen her in person?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I mean,” Yukko sits his laptop back on the table as he reaches for his drink, wincing as he sips. “Sakusa-san’s Sakusa-san. He’s most definitely got the funds.”

“Ohhh. Did you book her?” Kanon chuckles a little slimily. And the connotations of that are clear. So much so that Yukko rolls his eyes when he nudges him. “She’s just old enough for someone your age, right? Still young but not too young.”

Sakusa inhales.

“No. I don’t have to book her.” He admits tightly. “Since we sleep in the same bed.”

The two men freeze in place.

Kanon opens his mouth for a long silent moment until he’s pushing out his breath in little clips of his voice. “O-Oh… You two are-“ Sakusa nods. “Oh! Oh my god! I’m… I’m so sorry-“

“I hear it all the time.”

“Yeah but it’s still not good that I said it!” Kanon glances at a frantic Yukko.

“We didn’t mean to come off so disrespectfully!” Yukko flushes.

Sakusa shakes his head. “The blueprints.”

“W-What?”

“Show me the blueprints.” He gestures to the laptop.

Yukko clumsily turns it in his direction.

•••••

He’s barely through the door when you’ve already found your place in his arms. And he melts over you like butter, you let yourself be wholly suffocated by him.

You’re warm as you hum into his chest. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, angel.”

“How was lunch with your investors?”

Kiyoomi exhales as you stand on your toes to help him out of his suit jacket, conditioned draft in the air scented by that new conditioner he likes seep into his nose and turn his brain into mush. “It was… lunch with my investors.”

He bends himself nearly in half to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. “They wanna build an exhibit in my museum ‘cause they don’t wanna risk building their own and having some terrorist take it down.”

Your tone is so mirrored to his from earlier that it evokes a chuckle. “So they’ll risk yours?”

“Mhm.”

You mumble something sour into his shoulder. Lucky him he’s well versed enough in your native tongue to understand the phrase “Assholes.”

Kiyoomi kisses hot spots behind your ear. “They’re fans by the way.” He grimaces a little sourly into your neck. “Big fans.”

“Hm? I came up?”

He hums. “Kanon saw your picture on my lockscreen and proceeded to shove his foot in his mouth.” Kiyoomi breathes in a long whiff of you before blowing out temperedly. “Was under the impression that you did bookings.”

You chuff airly as you rub up and down the expanse of his arms consolingly. It doesn't really phase you to be slobbered over by men anymore, hasn’t really since your debut back as a fresh faced eighteen year old. But Omi’s still really new and unkind to the rubbernecking that includes being associated with a woman like you, let alone to love you.

“Bookings, huh?” You snicker as he nods his head silently. “I mean… to his credit I have put on a show for you once or twice.”

He scoffs before pressing one last firm kiss into the crook of your neck and standing up to his height again, pinching your cheek as he starts for the rest of the penthouse. “Yeah, but those are for my eyes only. - And they’ll stay that way.”

Kiyoomi sets his things on the marble of the lounge room table with a sigh. He’s been working nearly every day since the construction of his museum finally came into fruition and he couldn’t feel any less drained from it. Decent contractors have become harder and harder to find in this new age of impermanence and variability, and everybody who’s anybody seems to have their own two cents about his choice of structure or how they could be a part of it somehow. If he were a less honorable man - or a more unsavory man much like one he knows so particularly, he would’ve hired any three star contractor who could draw a decent circle, put all his focus into charming investors, and underpaid his workers just to save a few extra pennies. But he isn’t that. And a businessman like him prefers to be as close to the business as possible; wants to see his efforts turn out the way they’re supposed to.

He pouts a little to himself. But he also wants to spend time with his baby too.

“I’m gonna be beating them off with a stick for the rest of my life, aren’t I?” He exhales. “Is that the price I pay for loving a beautiful woman?”

You press a light kiss into his bicep as you glide for the direction of the kitchen. “Like you didn’t make the cover of Vanity Japan’s Handsome and Wealthy this spring.” You poke. “I’ll have to start burning incense before I visit you at work just so I don’t catch the evil eye from any of your female employees.”

He chuckles a little tiredly as he trails behind. “You’ll be fine in any case. Not like I didn’t start growing Aak the minute we made it official.”

“Very funny.”

“I know right-“ He sniffs.

His mouth immediately starts to water.

“Did you…?” Kiyoomi glances at the plates laid out on the kitchen counter. “Cook?”

You smile brightly. “Sooprise!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t know how to respond.

It smells… heavenly. Like freshly cut ingredients and even spices, pervading the air so warmly that his skin prickles before settling comfortably under his button up and he’s nearly inclined to openly salivate at just the smell of it.

You fish a spoon out of a pot near the stove, scooping the contents of it carefully into a bowl. “I know how long it’s been since you’ve had a home cooked meal and you’ve seemed so stressed lately.” You lean into him when you feel his chest press against your back, reaching up to caress his jaw as his arms fasten themselves tightly around your waist. “So I bought a few groceries instead of takeout and made something from home!”

You can’t help but grin when he starts to dig his nose into the crook of your neck again. “I hope you like the surprise.”

“If you ever leave me I’ll kill us both.”

You guffaw wholeheartedly.

reblog for one trillion dollars 💵 🤑💰💸

#ceo!kiyoomi #ceo au #kiwi’s simultaneous hate for rich men but desire to be taken care of by one #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu!!#hq sakusa #hq x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa smut #sakusa x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! smut #hq smut #hq fluff

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renardiererin · 1 year

Text

tattoo artist!suna who uses his surprising strength to keep your legs spread open with his head a little bit too close to your pussy as he presses the ink into the spot on your inner thigh you requested

tattoo artist!suna whose breathing gets heavier everytime you whimper at the pain of the needle

tattoo artist!suna who “accidentally” runs his fingertips lightly over your nipples when you come back in the next week saying you want a tattoo under your boob

tattoo artist!suna who holds you tightly by your throat when you say you want a tattoo on your collarbone

tattoo artist!suna who puts his thumb on your bottom lip and pulls it down with a light pinch of the flesh when you say you want a tattoo on the inside of your bottom lip

“this is gonna hurt a bit, pretty. you sure you’re ready?”

tattoo artist!suna who can barley contain himself when you realize the pain of a lip tattoo was worse than you expected, as you wrap your hands in his hair and tense every muscle in your body.

tattoo artist!suna who- once you’re dating, and have gotten used to him giving you random little tattoos at home all the time- will hold a pretty vibrator in your dripping pussy, overstimulating you and your pretty clit until you’re crying and shaking as he tells you to stay still so he can finish the tattoo on the back of your thigh

“stay still, doll face, i can’t fuck this up. the more you shake, the harder it is to ink you up”

tattoo artist!suna who happily engraves his name in your thigh, opposite of the spot where he gave you your first tattoo that time when he wanted so badly to take off your little shorts and dive into your pretty pussy right then.

tattoo artist!suna who now knows you’re his and his only, and can fulfill the fantasies that once clouded his brain.

tattoo artist!suna who forces patience out of himself so that first thing when he’s done writing his name on your thigh he can slide off your thin underwear and tell you for the thousandth time about how to take care of a new tattoo in between licks up your pussy, until he’s done and can finally tonguefuck his pretty girl into orgasm.

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kyuuppi · 4 months

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help, my boyfriend has no sex drive! (5)

Pairing: Kenma x reader (f)

Contents: smut; established relationship; feminization, "femboy", heavy praise kink (Kenma); rough sex; creampie; Christmas themes

Words: 3.4k

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

“But as long as you’d love me so—

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snoooow”

Kenma tries not to visibly cringe at the cheery music as he emerges from his office, finally finished with his obligatory three-hour “Christmas special” stream.

As you had been for the past month, you’re softly singing along to some Christmas carol playing from your shitty laptop speaker. You had busied yourself with reorganizing the presents under the full-sized tree—something you had insisted on buying for the apartment.

Kenma had little more interest in most holidays than the “free day from school” perks. But as he watches you scurry around your shared living room wearing candy cane-themed stockings, an oversized ugly Christmas sweater, and a hundred-yen-store Santa hat, Kenma is thankful you had expressed your desire to celebrate with him. He will gladly participate in anything that makes you this innocently cheerful.

Your background music is abruptly cut short and you frown when you realize your laptop has just died again. But the disappointment is cut short when you notice Kenma, standing awkwardly by the couch in the dark Christmas sweater you had insisted he wear for his stream.

“KenKen—your stream is over?”

Kenma smiles softly at how eager you look, eyes practically sparkling.

“Yeah, I’m free now. You wanted to open presents, right?”

You nod quickly, guiding him to the couch and leaving only to retrieve a cup of hot cocoa—extra whipped cream—and a slice of homemade apple pie, placing them both in front of him on the coffee table. He thanks you quietly, predictably digging into the apple pie first.

“So I think we should start with your family’s gifts first,” you begin, already passing him a small stack of presents, all wrapped in identical green and red paper.

After nearly half an hour you two had finally worked your way through nearly all of the presents. Most were the typical things–an abhorrent amount of socks and pajamas from your families, Kenma’s mother gifting both of you very cringey matching couple sets with any video game character she saw. You had to try very hard not to laugh at Kenma’s face when you opened a matching Kirby and Jigglypuff sweater set with a handwritten heart note.

“Aww, don’t pout KenKen, your mom was just being thoughtful.” “They’re not even in the same series.”

A few gifts had been surprising–namely Kuroo’s cat ear headphones—to which Kenma promptly sent a text telling Kuroo to never buy him Christmas gift ever again— and even a signed pro jersey from Hinata. Even if he didn’t voice it, you noticed how touched Kenma seemed by the gesture and you made a mental note to buy something to display it in the apartment. A few gifts were even from Kenma’s fans, sending various game merchandise, snacks from their country, and even fan art of the two of you.

Finally, the last remaining gifts were the ones you made for each other. You didn’t want to pressure Kenma to buy you anything fancy–and you also couldn’t afford to reciprocate with anything fancy, so you set a strict budget.

Kenma was unexpectedly good at keeping secrets so you weren’t sure what he had gotten you–probably a game he wanted you to play together but the box was unexpectedly big—

Regardless, you knew what you got him , and it was something you had been thinking about for months. Needless to say, you were eager for him to open it.

“Who should go firs—”

“I’ll go!”

Kenma raises a brow but complies as you all but shove your gift into his hands. The outside is unassuming—a flat package wrapped in red paper with a holographic silver stick-on bow in the center. Somehow, he feels vaguely uneasy.

Cautiously, Kenma begins unwrapping the gift. You practically vibrate with excitement in your seat, eagerly watching as his thin fingers peel away the final layers of colorful paper.

Finally, your present reveals itself, soft nylon fabric in a bright red shade. Kenma seems confused, unsure of what exactly he is looking at until he shifts and the fabric unravels into two long strips.

“Ta-daa,” you cheer, “your very own pair of thigh-high stockings!”

Kenma looks horrified.

“This is a joke,” Kenma states, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself just as much as you.

“What do you mean? Don’t you like them? Look, they’re even Christmas-themed!”

You guide his hands over to the top of the socks where a large red ribbon sits. Two short red strings dangle the ribbon with a small, fuzzy white ball at the end each. You make him squeeze the soft ball for good measure. His expression doesn’t change.

“Why would you buy me these? You wasted actual, real-life money for this,” Kenma bemoans.

“Didn’t your fans suggest something like this before? I think they called them programmer socks—”

“ Oh my god please stop talking.”

Kenma lets out a long, suffering groan as you eye him with an absolute shit-eating grin.

It’s fine, he thinks. You wanted to be a little shit like Kuroo but it was just a prank. He could probably Venmo back the money you wasted on this and never have to think of this situation ever again. He’ll toss them in the back of the closet next to those cat ear headphones Kuroo bought him.

He is proven wrong when you nudge his shin with your own stocking-clad toes and give him an expectant look.

“Well?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to try them on?”

Kenma’s brain very obviously fries and you have to resist the urge to laugh at his expression.

“C’mon, I spent actual, real-life money on these," you tease, throwing his words back at him, "I wanna see you wear them at least once!”

“You have to be joking,” he all but whines.

Your excited expression tells him you are very much not joking. Kenma considers refusing more firmly. He knows you genuinely care about him and would never push him to do something he was uncomfortable with—or at least so long as it wouldn’t actually kill him.

But your eyes are wide and practically sparkling as you look at him expectantly with that cute little grin–the crippling humiliation that will likely haunt him every night for the rest of his life is nothing compared to your happiness. Kenma sighs deeply and you know you’ve won.

He ignores your excited squeals as he stands up and shuffles towards the bathroom in something akin to a walk of shame.

As Kenma stares at his own lithe form in the mirror he’s positive that he has never felt so mortified in his whole life. Not when he accidentally set a ball into Lev’s face during a match in high school. Not when he missed his ult in a team fight and cost his team the ranked match in League. Not even when he came so hard he nearly passed out while getting his dick sucked during a live stream.

Kenma can barely even recognize himself in the mirror, eyes flitting from his familiar golden gaze down to his oversized black and white Nightmare Before Christmas sweater and, finally, to his thin legs wrapped in an inappropriately bright red pair of thigh-high socks.

Somehow, the stockings feel even more exposing than if he were just naked. He feels like some cheap, poorly drawn femboy character in a hentai. One of his first thoughts was they don’t look nearly as appealing on him as they do on you. His legs are too lanky–straight and lean from years of volleyball but missing the curve of healthy fat yours have. His face heats up as he visualizes your thighs currently clad in your own pair of red and white striped stockings.

“KenKen are you ready yet? You’re taking foreeeeever!”

His heart rate picks up and he tries to remind himself it's just you, the person who makes him feel safest. He’s going to go out there, you’re going to see how cringe he looks, then you'll both laugh and never talk about this again.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, immediately meeting your gaze as you sit on the couch where he left you. Breath bated, he watches as your eyes dart down his body, darting around his lower half with your mouth agape. He tries his best not to squirm under your stare.

“Fuck, Ken,” you chuckle breathily, “you look amazing.”

Kenma’s breath hitches, certainly not expecting that type of response. As you continue to take him in he realizes your gaze looks almost hungry, like you’re ready to devour him–shit, are you seriously into this?

He finds his answer in the way you motion him over, helpless in how his body obeys before he can even process the silent request. You reach out hesitantly, fingertips so close to his thighs he can feel your body heat even through the thin fabric. You glance up at him, asking permission, and he’s nodding immediately, desperate for your touch.

Your fingers land near his left knee, trailing up slowly and making his whole body tremble lightly. When your fingertips catch on the hem of the stockings he nearly gasps and then you're brushing his soft skin directly, only stopping when you reach the edge of the sweater that’s just barely covering his rapidly hardening cock.

“You’re so pretty,” you praise, "my pretty boy."

Kenma makes a choked sound, surprised and mildly offended but also awfully turned on to hear any form of praise from your lips. No, he wants to argue, you’re the pretty one –but you look up at him, so pleased, that he can’t remember how to speak.

“And now we match,” you sing, tone innocent as you raise your leg between his own. His eyes follow, nearly hypnotized by the contrast between your red-and-white stockings against his red ones before your clothed shin brushes against his crotch in a way that is anything but innocent. He has to grab the back of the couch near your head to keep his knees from buckling as he groans.

You seem to take some form of pity on him because you let up on his crotch with a giggle, making room for him to sit down beside you and catch his breath. Even when you let him rest your attention never strays from the item of clothing, hand idly stroking his thigh while you continue to drink in the sight of his pale skin contrasting with the scarlet cloth.

“Do you really like it that much,” he asks, almost hesitant.

He’s surprised at how sheepish you become, moving your hand away as your face slightly flushes.

“Um–yeah. I know it’s kinda weird, sorry, you just look really pretty sometimes.”

Kenma frowns slightly and takes your hand back, returning it to his thigh with his own on top of yours. The action was meant to reassure you but it felt too bold and he avoids eye contact as he speaks.

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t hate it…”

He sees the way you perk up, practically beaming, from the corner of his eye and is quick to clarify less you try to buy him a pair of panties or something next year.

“It’s not my thing—I prefer seeing you in cute clothes…but I can try things like this if it makes you this happy.”

“Aww, KenKen, that’s so sweet!”

Kenma huffs, breath nearly knocked out of him when you launch yourself into his chest, planting noisy kisses all over his face. He tries his best to scowl but he’s pretty sure he’s failing by the way you giggle at his expression. Your Santa hat gets knocked off in the commotion but neither of you care. Kenma even takes the opportunity to bury his fingers in your messy hair as your kisses finally focus on his lips.

Eventually, the kisses deepen, morphing from quick pecks to slow and open-mouthed. Your tongue invades his mouth, gravity giving you a clear advantage as you take charge of this kiss. But not one to easily accept defeat, Kenma takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass in a way that has you gasping in surprise. You start to grind on him, both of you letting out soft sounds between kisses.

It’s you who pulls away first, making Kenma softly whine in protest, gaze hazy as he blinks up at you in question.

“Wanna ride you,” you explain simply.

Kenma hisses out his approval and obediently waits as you pull down your lounge shorts. You yank them down your legs and fling them across the living room with a little too much force, accidentally hitting the Christmas tree. You laugh at the sight of your fuzzy white shorts hanging on the tree like some soft of kinky Christmas ornament but Kenma is quick to redirect your attention by pulling you back down for another kiss.

He grips your ass again, this time bare, and moves his fingers to prepare you for his dick but—

He abruptly stops and pulls away from the kiss in shock.

“You’re already this wet?” His expression looks genuinely surprised and you can’t help but giggle.

“I told you, you look really pretty.”

Kenma groans, not sure if he’s annoyed or turned on but his cock throbs all the same. You pull up the bottom half of his sweater to reach his black boxers. He’s so hard that it's almost difficult to get them off but he helps you pull them down just enough to free his leaking cock. It takes a moment to properly position yourself from this new angle, hindered by your bulky sweater and the headrest of the couch digging into your side but you manage to guide his leaky head to your drenched hole and ease down.

You both groan as he breaches your cunt, your wetness making the slide smooth even as you reach his thick base.

“F-fuck, Ken, you always feel so good,” you moan.

The praise feels like a punch to the gut and he’s thankful he’s already lying down so he can’t embarrass himself further by losing his balance. He’s coming to realize even if feminization isn’t his thing, praise might be. He thinks he'd do just about anything if it pleased you—if it made you look down at him with those shiny eyes and call him your good boy—fuck. Kenma has to force himself back to reality before he makes himself cum too quickly just by his own fantasies.

You readjust your weight, leaning back and using his bent knees as leverage. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his stockings as you begin to move, raising to his tip before dropping your whole weight down. It feels good—mind-numbingly so—but he finds it looks even better. The angle you put yourself into gives him an unobstructed view of your face–eyes pinched closed and reddened lips open in pleasure, your breasts–soft and bouncing with every movement–and, best of all, your tight hole sucking him in with every uptake.

He can’t tear his eyes away from where the two of you are connected. A creamy white ring is quickly forming at the base of his cock from how soaked you are, thin strings sticking to your pussy like webs. Framing it all are your thick thighs, muscles straining with your movements and squeezed by those god damned red-and-white striped thigh highs.

Fuck, he wishes he could record this.

He has apparently said that aloud on accident because now you’re grinning down at him conspiratorially.

“Y-yeah?” you stutter out, “you wanna make a movie with me?”

Kenma doesn’t verbally answer but he doesn’t need to. Instead, he’s gripping your hips and guiding your pace, making you bounce on his cock faster while his own hips start to meet your thrusts.

It has only been a few minutes but it's becoming clear your stamina is far from athletic. Your thighs burn and your pace stumbles but Kenma is quick to take advantage of the situation, using a strength you didn’t know he was capable of to roll you over and push you face down.

“Kenma, wh—oh!”

Any dissent you had intended to make is abruptly cut off when your boyfriend, one knee digging into the couch for leverage, feeds his length back into your greedy hole and sets a pace that has you nearly screaming. His hips snap into you, hard, and you scramble to find something to hold on to. One hand finds the armrest of the couch near your head, nails nearly tearing into the fabric, while the other ends up behind you, digging into his thigh as he rams his hips into you. You’re drooling as you manage to stutter out a barely coherent statement through your moans.

“K-Ken, so h-hard, fuck—”

“Yeah,” He replies, sounding breathless but not nearly as wrecked as you. You curse his retired high school athlete stamina.

“Am I still your pretty boy?”

The question momentarily shocks you. You aren’t sure what response he’s looking for but you answer honestly, too fucked out to ponder on it.

“Y-yesyesyes, the prettiest! ”

“You like getting fucked by your pretty boy?”

“Yeeeess, I l-love it—oh god—”

One hand reaches up to grip your hair, tugging your hair in a way you aren’t sure is punishment or a reward. You cry out all the same, cunt squeezing him for dear life as he hits something deep deep deep inside of you. You’re fairly certain you’ve never been fucked this hard in your life. The sweet, no-sex-drive-having boyfriend trope becomes little more than a pipe dream as his hips smack into your ass without reprieve.

“‘m g-gonna cum,” you warn.

Kenma’s grip on your hip tightens and he adjusts his angle to hit the spot he knows makes your toes curl and your pitch turns airy. The nail in the coffin comes when he releases your hair, but only to start rubbing your clit, remembering your favorite rhythm from the time he watched you masturbate.

Expectedly, you cum, toes curling and squeals reaching a pitch you think might cause your boyfriend hearing damage. Your whole body seizes with your orgasm, cunt spasming and thighs squeezing shit as you please for him to stop, go harder–you aren’t sure.

Kenma forces you to ride through it, fucking you even as your hips stutter violently and never letting up on your pulsating nub. It's only when you're nearing tears from the overstimulation that Kenma stops, moaning sweetly as his own orgasm overtakes him. He collapses against you in exhaustion as warmth fills you from deep inside, making a mess on your thighs as it gushes out between you.

“Mm, y’r heavyyy,” you complain sleepily.

Kenma grunts something in response but doesn’t bother moving. In fact, he seems to make himself more comfortable by moving his hands to find your own. He slips his long fingers in the spaces between your own, locking your hands together. Your heart swells at the action, constantly reminded how much this boy loves you even when he doesn't vocalize it very often.

You allow him a few more moments of peace, listening to his harsh pants die down into something more calm before you speak again.

“By the way, what was my present?”

Kenma stiffens against you, having completely forgotten about Christmas altogether. Quickly, he pulls away from you and the loss of warmth almost makes you regret saying anything. On shaky legs, Kenma shuffles over to the forgotten box, wrapped in royal blue paper and topped with a pretty gold ribbon. He comes back to the couch, gingerly helping you sit up before placing the box on your lap.

You’re immediately surprised by the hefty weight of the box and grow curious as you tear at the paper. Within seconds, the logo and picture on the box become clear, making you gasp in shock.

“Kenmaaaa,” you whine, trying not to tear up as you pout at him.

To his credit, Kenma looks honestly guilty as he avoids your eyes.

“We set a twenty-thousand-yen spending limit, ” you remind him.

“I know but—this is basically a necessity. Your old one was going to die any day now,” Kenma reasons, helping you pull out the shiny new laptop –in rose gold no less.

“And it's a gaming laptop–that means you can play with me more so it’s basically a gift for me more than you,” he continues.

You know he’s absolutely pulling excuses out of his ass but you can’t help the rush of affection at how much Kenma wants to spoil you. He always buys you the things you want, even when you insist on not wanting to take advantage of him as a wealthy streamer and businessman. He usually comes up with some excuse, I was going to buy one anyway so we can share or I have too much money this month, taxes will be a hassle if I don’t spend it.

But he is right–your old laptop was on its last leg and every time you opened a Word document for school you had to pray it wouldn’t crash before you could save your draft.

You softly smile as you trace the box with a finger, elated that he even remembered which color you wanted. He grins at how pleased you clearly are, even if you won’t say it.

“Besides,” his grin suddenly turns sly as he places a hand on the swell of your hip, “I heard the webcam is really great for recording movies.”

#kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma smut #kenma imagine #kenma scenario #kenma fic #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fic #hq smut #hq x reader #smut #fic:hmbfhnsd

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suashii · 5 months

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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝐸𝒳𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒮𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 — the setters and their top kinks

info ⭑ includes: miya atsumu, oikawa toru, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, semi eita ﾉ f!reader, nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ degradation ﾉ impact play ﾉ daddy kink ﾉ dumbification ﾉ edging ﾉ body worship ﾉ praise kink ﾉ dacryphilia ﾉ virgin kink ﾉ corruption kink ﾉ all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ ATSUMU + DEGRADATION & IMPACT PLAY

he’d never call you such lewd, dirty names outside the bedroom, but he can’t ignore how each one goes straight to your pussy. his personal favorites are “whore” and “toy”. he never thought he’d find so much pleasure in bullying, humiliating, you. and he’ll never get over the way you tighten and flutter around his cock when his hand makes contact with your clit or ass. your surprised squeals are like music to his ears and the marks he leaves behind are always a pretty reminder of the night’s activities the next day.

“listen to you, whimpering like a whore when i slap your ass. i’m starting to think you like getting spanked. mm, maybe i should give you another one.”

₊˚ପ⊹ OIKAWA + DADDY KINK & DUMBIFICATION

he gets some sort of rush from hearing you call him daddy. maybe it’s the way you peer up at him through your lashes as you do so. or maybe it’s the blatant embarrassment that you try and fail to hide by biting your lip. can you blame him for wanting to see you completely fucked out? you’re just so pretty when your eyes are staring off at nothing, tongue lolling from between those soft lips. he can’t help the sense of pride that swells in his chest when you’re reduced to such a mess, and all because of him.

“you stopped talking, princess. did daddy really fuck you that hard? can’t even think straight while you’re taking this cock, huh?”

₊˚ପ⊹ AKAASHI + EDGING & BODY WORSHIP

his hands wander about your figure as his mouth travels down every inch of your skin, only ever stopping to tell you how gorgeous you are. you deserve the world and he’s set on giving it to you, even if his method seems slightly cruel. by now, he’s an expert at continuously getting you nearly to your climax and pulling you back just before you can reach it. he’s a patient man and is more than willing to spend all night in the bedroom if that means giving you the most earth shattering orgasm you could imagine.

“god, you look so beautiful like this. you want to come? don’t worry, you only have to wait a little longer, angel. i promise it’ll feel good.”

₊˚ପ⊹ SUGAWARA + PRAISE & DACRYPHILIA

you’re such a sweet thing for suga, always doing what you’re told and making the prettiest noises for him. why shouldn’t he let you know how much he adores you—how proud he is of you? the smile that graces your face and the sparkles in your irises at his approval are really all he could ask for. but a little part of him can’t help but get excited whenever he sees tears of pleasure pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. maybe he’s greedy; or maybe he just wants a reward of his own.

“you did so well for me, my good girl. and you look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks. should i clean them up for you?”

₊˚ପ⊹ SEMI + VIRGIN KINK & CORRUPTION

he has this unexplainable desire to take you—someone that was once pure and untouched—and make you his own, to ruin you as he pleases. of course, he’d never tell you so; where’s the fun in that? he’s fixed on watching the authentic experience of your first time. he wants to see how your face scrunches up in pain before it turns to pleasure. he wants to hear your breath catch in your throat before you’re moaning in ecstasy as your orgasm hits. he needs to be the one who gives you a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.

“is it everything you thought it would be? yeah? i never pegged you as the type who liked being used. guess i got lucky with you.”

hihi~ manz here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #atsumu x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #sugawara x reader #semi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #𐙚 after hours

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hxltic · 1 year

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pt.2!! (i know that cliffhanger was menacing) 800 followers hello?!

part 1 | part 2

It was weird. It felt weird.

You sat with your chest bare, Kenma contemplating his own conscientiousness and conscious before you. Should he have any integrity, he would turn you around and fulfill what you came to do.

But he doesn’t. Intrusive thoughts win, so he dives straight into you to suck on your tits like a fucking baby.

Just watching in amusement as he tugged and nipped, it looked like Kenma was genuinely enjoying himself when he licked the bud in a single stripe, cat eyes gazing into yours devilishly by the way he could feel your back has a slight arch to it. His pale hands roamed from the small of it to your shoulder blades.

Your manicured fingers tread through the black locks that cover his tinted cheeks and reveal his long, black eyelashes. You mentally curse him for having them. Your upper back begins to stray away; Kenma just follows.

You connect strands of hair behind his ear (which he greatly appreciates you for) because he needs to see you, your curves, and body in all the bright rainbow light from the edges of his setup.

He removes the slim shirt entirely and discards it randomly in the room. He couldn’t care less where it landed. He grasps—literally grasps— both tits in each hand before looking up at you ordinarily, but in an anticipating manner.

“Take the rest of it off.”

“Say please,” you announced. Yes, you asked first, but you could still have a little fun (and refresh his manners).

“You do realize you’re literally in my hands right?“

“…So?”

He just blinks up at you and rolls his eyes in obduracy.

“Please, take the rest of it off.”

You tap a fingernail to your chin, “Hmm… say it like you mean it.”

If you could describe the ravenette’s face right now, it would be the most unamused you’ve ever seen him.

Kenma grabs you and roughs you off him, twists you ‘round, and adroitly unbuttons your jeans from behind you. Done with your shit, he peels them down and brings your panties along. He then pulls you back down to him backwards.

“See? Easy peasy,” he comments.

Slightly embarrassed from being absolutely manhandled, you shuffled against his front and dug your head into his sweatshirt on his left shoulder.

“Are you shy now? Not too long ago you were asking me to—”

“Shut up- Shut up.”

A giggle sounds behind you and lengthy, soft fingers trail up to your plush thighs anyway, then leads more inward. He pats twice to ask you to open up for him. You comply in spite.

With two delicate fingers he spreads you open, a third experimenting by dipping into your wetness. You were already getting throbbing having thought about it all day. Your friends constantly conversed about what their partners did and how good it felt, so you want as close to that as possible, but the problem is that you’re doing it while being unaware of how skilled Kenma actually is. You’re starting to question whether he was the right person or not. Or whether it holds up to its name. Or if you can do it at all.

He caresses you, rubbing the pad of his finger in circular motions against your clit.

“Okay,” his chest rises and falls, “just relax and think about whatever boy toy you want.”

You ignore his taunting. Your eyes trail downwards. He was going so slow, but if you thought you’d have Kenma pawing at you by the end of the night you had to be on something. So, you do what he asks of you and shut down any tense nerve in your body.

“There you go,” as you soften against his front, now two of his fingers locate your nub and continue the circling. Your thighs are spread apart on each chair arm, facing the dark idle screensaver Kenma had, the plush actively being kneaded between his free hand. Your center was tingly but not the trademark “oh my god!” tingly. It felt good but you weren’t screaming just yet.

Almost in time, he curls his hand farther forward and dips a finger into you. It was very slowly done for reactive purposes, and with your sight deactivated, the reaction he expected from your chest was granted. He sinks deeper and deeper until his palm is flat against you. Thanks to his patience, you were definitely wet enough.

He stills inside.

“I can’t do anything if you won’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” you apologized, and let out a breath you had no idea you were holding. His thumb reddens your clit even more while the other hand releases your thigh and slides up your body to tighten on your breast. You feel used with his hands all over your body, but in a good way.

Your regular breaths graduated to heavy ones, and those graduated to groans. Your voice wasn’t very high pitched anyway. When does the good part come?

The inactive hand rotated to your clit, while the other focused mainly on gyrating through your walls. His long finger reached places yours couldn’t, and adding a second would only increase the chance of him finding that single pile of nerves that could make you go haywire. He was close but he didn’t think to resort to that just yet.

Two of his hands meet around your front like a hug. His articulated digits roll inside you, each roll a tug on your resistance. A little to the left or a little to the right. His hand curled somehow even deeper on the hunt for your g-spot, so he takes a mental note: up and to the right.

“Oh shit,” your hips slightly stutter.

He smiles, “Right there?” and pesters the previous patch. Your hips lift off him the tiniest bit and your hand reaches up mindlessly. Really you just needed something to occupy yourself. He goes at it again and again, your tummy folded yet moving with him as he’s still going too slow when your body is screaming for more.

You rub his nape in an attempt to focus on anything else. Your arm is geniusly wrapped between the two of you by journeying under his neck. Your reflection in the screen is unbeatable, Kenma working you like it was his millionth time doing it. Everything had a job and you just had to sit and take it.

“That’s definitely you,” he mused. He kissed under your ear on the right side. You could say you weren’t feeling much all you wanted, attempting to lower his ego, but your contorted expression spoke differently with inaudible words. At some point his speed increased.

You unintentionally grind on him as your hips falter halfway. He tries his best to ignore it and keep your high ecstasy going because it was: A, the meaning of this entire operation; B, you’d be sore anyway, better to make the best out if it; and C, had he acted on it you would’ve squirted all over his dick. Which option C isn’t necessarily a problem, it’s just he’s almost certain you’d like to see yourself do it.

“Feels good Ken,” you mumble. The squelch sound could now be heard, and you both listened as he slotted himself in the crook of your neck and your head was thrown back on his shoulder. It was dead silent in the apartment, so silent you could hear your own thoughts and maybe even each other’s.

It sure seemed that way, because Kenma persisted with a finger and stimulated you simultaneously. Your head rolled back and forth, your calves flexed, and your pretty pink toes hung off the chair arms. The clip in your hair hadn’t bothered him one bit.

“Kenmaaa,” you insisted.

“I’m here, tell me,” he indulged. Your breaths were practically weights, yet shallow at the same time.

“Gonna come soon.”

“I got you. Just let it happen.”

Kenma knew you were close before you did. Hell, he was a part of your body now. Obvious signs were shown like when you tighten around him and your muscles contract, informing him everything was already in motion. The orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, taking you and your brain out to sea, but not your body. In fact, it left your disappointment behind too.

Nothing happened.

It took you a second to realize this though— considering it was still one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had—but also because Kenma hadn’t stopped.

“Please,” unaware of what you were calling for, you turned to his face, but he was already so close like he was waiting for you there. He’d slowed only a bit, but this makes little difference already being hypersensitive. Once again, you’re grinding on him, it’s just rougher now and more effective at getting him any harder than he already was.

You talked face to face and couldn’t decide what eye to look in. His lips were so close, and so very inviting. You kiss him.

Soft lips unite with yours meaningfully. You hadn’t known it would progress to this, however, Kenma now occupies your entire body, being, and mind. If you could dismiss how hard he was overstimulating you, just maybe you could kiss him with the passion you desired—but that was reaching because you couldn’t find the strength to kiss him back at all. Your lips were open yet hushed in all attempts to return the gesture, but your body fails you under the hands of lust.

You felt another coming. Your eyes had this faded look to them as if you weren’t here, so Kenma brought it upon himself to whisper to you.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” His voice was soft in the air.

You respond with a light headed moan. Fuck all that shit about your voice not being high and you couldn’t pornstar moan, because to some extent it was and you really could.

“K-Ken I can’t—“

“You can,” he interrupts, “anything you want baby.”

Your hand quits fidgeting with the loomed bracelets adorning his wrists to move down to holding the both of his that were working you. The attempt is futile, because even if you did manage to get one hand away, the other would still be toying with your pussy. The veins that stretched from his muscles all the way to his forearm could be seen clear as day. Kenma adds another finger, and doubles into you as it sinks up and to the right.

“Oh fuck, Kenma, Kenma-“ you repeated. You tried pushing him off, except you wanted him to continue, except that you were in no state of mind to make decisions. Your back arched impressively and you were on the verge of crying. This quick?

He constantly acknowledges you, “Uh-huh.”

Kenma almost triples in speed. He continues to whisper to you. “Do it. I know you can. Show me how you come for me.”

You don’t feel it, but Kenma plants his feet and swivels the chair around as your mouth drops. You were pushing outward more than downward, and as Kenma pistons into you, there was no way you weren’t about to squirt. Just preferably, not on his monitor. He kisses at your face now turned away from him. “Just like that, you’re almost there. Open your eyes.”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god-!” you breathe.

Kenma quickly runs back and forth over your clit encouragingly and doesn’t let up. This wasn’t a wave that rolled over you this time, but one that came up to shore first, dragged you along into sea, and sucked you under. It felt normal until it didn’t and you were releasing all over his carpet.

“You look so fucking good like this. Knew my girl could do it.”

Your hair was fucked from rolling on it. You had came so hard your body tensed and slightly cramped, rendering you idle as he continued until you were done. The clear liquid rolled down your own leg. You felt as if you were underwater. Your head bashed like there was no oxygen. Kenma was a man of few words but after you got what you deserved, he didn’t have shit to say.

He gripped your thighs, lifted them, and slowly lowered them to his. A darker color stained his sweats. Was it from you, or him? Neither of you know. His hand pets your forehead gingerly.

“Your girl?” You ask lazily.

“I think we both know you wouldn’t have let anybody else do this,” he establishes. He was right.

sorry if it’s not as good as first!! it was supposed to come out earlier but my dumbass queued it for the wrong day 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ also did you catch the easter egg😏😏 (I made this a little shorter to match up with the time it takes to…yk… that’s why all of my fics that aren’t penetration are shorter)

@iwouldbangchan @hislaevv @butterflyk04 @lilmisskreideprinz @ahahadumbo @bontensbabygirl @ninefuckingoneone @hwangsyunho @privthemis @anonymoussimper @frenchinator2sickk

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