#haikyuu smut

[s0dium]

Cocky men

A/n: Cocky prideful men have been on my mind

Warnings: Mating press, teasing, submissive reader

~ Cocky men who are just so full of themselves, who know how handsome they are, who know how good they fuck.

You want to resist, you hate knowing that you're just another one of his conquests but he's just so irresistible. And he's close to you, too close. You can smell his old spice shampoo mixed with something sweeter and you can practically taste it on the tip of your tongue- it's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again.

He bends down, his lips just grazing your cheek, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine, making your entire body quiver. "If you want me to stop, say it now," he whispers. When you remain silent, he brushes his mouth against the hollow of your temple. "Or now." He traces the curve of your cheekbone. "Or now." His lips meet yours.

It is all a blur from there, but now your on your back, naked, legs pressed flush against your chest effectively folding you in half and spreading you open. And oh boy do the curtains match the drapes because he is so big. His dick fills you up better than your fingers or a stupid dildo ever could and the drag against your walls with every thrust, the friction, it's delicious.

"This what you imagined in that pretty head of yours?" He chuckles, and you open your mouth to say something but he already capturing your lips with his. You whine into his mouth and you let his tongue weave its way into yours. His hands slides down to your throat, giving your the sides of it a squeeze to softly block your air flow.

"Huhhh... so good m'feel so good." You whine. You think you must be dreaming with how euphoric everything feels right now. The pleasure is so good it's all you can think about, it's absorbing you. Your abdomen tightens with every surge of hot tingly goodness that comes with each thrust and electric flesh arrows of pleasure dance along your skin.

"Oh I know baby, I know you do," He coos, bucking up his hips teasingly.  He lets out a soft groan at the way your pussy feverishly grips his dick. The sound of wet sweaty skin slapping mix and mingle in the sex steamed air. You want to scream at the way his dick fills you up so perfectly every time he snaps his hips into yours.

A mixture of pre cum and your juices accumulates at the base of his dick and every vein on his cock dragged against your velvety walls, catching on your entrance as her pulled back before falling back into you.

“You can cum princess, we got all the time in the world."

Gojo, Sukuna, Toji, Kuroo, Atsumu Miya, Oikawa, Kakashi, Sanemi, Uzui Tengen

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐀, 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃 . . (𝑀𝒰𝐿𝒯𝐼𝒫𝐿𝐸 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒯𝐸𝑅)

multiple character x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex ﾉ raw sex ﾉ breeding kink ﾉ mentions of pregnancy ﾉ possessiveness ﾉ creampie ﾉ hinting to previous orgasms ﾉ slight tit play ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ໒꒰ྀི ง`0´ ꒱ྀིง

dis was literally an abandoned wip i was putting on hold,, originally meant 2 b a neuvillette fic bbuuuuttt i figured 2 jus make it a short multiple character! drabble instead since i was gettin supa frustrated with finishing it, but also didnt wanna jus throw m' work away,, eek . art credits go to @/sso_s__ on twitter ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

You cushioned his face with your breasts, your hand cupping his chin as he panted and moaned into your soft, pliant flesh. He was a mess, a whimpering, whining mess, his face buried in the valley of your breasts as his hips thrust into the welcoming, warm heat of your cunt. You could feel the way his hips trembled, his cock driving into you, the length of him stretching you out, the thickness of him filling you up. Your belly was already swollen with his seed, the way he'd filled you up, the proof of your coupling, of his claiming, visible.

You let out a breathy moan, the way his cock was dragging along your walls sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. The heat of his tongue was delicious as he sucked and kissed at the sensitive flesh of your breast, his hips snapping forward as he fucked into you. Your pussy was absolutely dripping, the sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy filling the air, the obscene squelch of his cock in your pussy making him groan.

He was so, so close, the knot in his belly winding tighter and tighter, the promise of his climax just within reach. His hand came to rest against your lower stomach, and his palm pressed into the slight swell, a whine escaping him as he imagined how you'd look, carrying his children. Your womb was full, his seed ensuring that you'd conceive, and the thought of it was almost enough to send him tumbling over the edge. You were absolutely wrecked, a mess, the way his cock was thrusting into you had your head spinning, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping them wrapped around his waist.

Your hand threaded into his hair, pulling his head away from where it was buried between your tits, your lips crashing into his. Your kisses were messy and heated, filthy, the slide of your tongues together causing your already aching cunt to throb with further need. The punishing pace of his hips faltering, the way his pace slowed to a leisurely roll had you whimpering.

"P-pll-lease!" You gasped, a plea tumbling from your lips as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your own peak. You were so close, the tightness in your belly nearly unbearable, the sensation driving you wild. You needed to cum, needed the relief of your release, and you tightened your grip in his hair, the way he was rutting into you drawing a choked cry from your throat.

He could feel himself nearing the edge, his hips picking up the pace, his thrusts growing erratic. He was chasing his high, desperate to cum, the way you were moaning and gasping spurring him on. A drenching heat coated his cock, and his cock twitched, the tight, fluttering heat of your cunt threatening to push him over the edge. Your body was aflame, your climax imminent, the way he was pounding into you driving you wild. The knot in your belly unwound, a strangled scream tearing its way out of your throat, and your cunt pulsed around him, your orgasm overwhelming.

He fucked you through your orgasm, his hips stuttering, and his cock twitched, a guttural growl sounding from him as he finally reached his peak. A wave of hot, white heat washed over him, and he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his sweet, gooey goodness splashing inside you. A shuddering inhale fell from your lips, your eyes screwed shut as he emptied himself deep within your hole. Your hips canted up to meet his, your pussy milking his cock for all he was worth, your head thrown back against the pillow.

You lay there, chests heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, your bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. He was still buried within you, the warmth of him inside you causing a pleased sigh to escape your lips. Your thighs trembled as you came down from your high, the way his arms had wrapped around you making you feel safe. His cock softened inside you, the heat of his cum leaking out around his cock and pooling on the bed, the sheets soiled with the remnants of your coupling. But, even then, he didn't pull out, didn't leave your warmth, instead burying his face in the crook of your neck and sighing, content. His hand came to rest against your lower stomach, his palm pressed into the slight swell, a possessive growl sounding from him. You were his, and soon, everyone would know.

[pin-k-ink]

study session // akaashi keiji

tw ⇢ mutual pining, making out, soft sex, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, getting caught(?), bokuto being bokuto

wc ⇢ 5.9k

The deadbolt thunked softly as Akaashi twisted his key, shoulders sagging with fatigue after another marathon day of editing. He toed off his loafers, inhaling the familiar blend of books and bergamot that enveloped the apartment he shared with his roommate - you, Bokuto's younger sister.

A muffled sniffle drifted from down the hall, immediately snapping Akaashi's focus into sharp awareness. Frowning slightly, he followed the sound toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, spilling a thin blade of light across the hardwood.

Akaashi hesitated with his knuckles hovering outside the door frame, another watery hiccup reaching his ears. Quietly, he rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Y/N, are you alright?" he called out gently.

A tremulous inhale, then your voice filtered through, think and wavering. "A-Akaashi? Y-Yeah, I'm...I'm okay."

But the attempt at false bravery was betrayed by the slight quaver marring your tone. Akaashi's brow furrowed in sincere concern, fingers already grasping the door handle.

"May I come in?"

A pause, then a resigned sigh. "Okay..."

He pushed the door open slowly to find you hunched over your desk, shoulders trembling and face streaked with tears. Textbooks and notepads were strewn haphazardly, evidence of the chaotic state of your studies. Akaashi felt a pang in his chest at the rare sight of your usual sunny disposition so distraught and overwhelmed.

"Oh Y/N..." He crossed the room in three strides, circling around to crouch beside you. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

You swiped the sleeve of your sweatshirt uselessly across your damp cheeks, exhaling a ragged breath. "It's just...there's so much material to review for midterms and I'm f-falling behind. I've been studying nonstop but nothing is sticking and I'm so stressed out..."

The dam of frustration you'd been holding back finally burst as your voice hitched dangerously on those last words. Akaashi watched, utterly helpless, as you dissolved into fresh sobs muffled behind your palms.

For a moment, he wavered, unsure of the proper decorum to provide comfort without overstepping boundaries. But the sight of your dejected hunched form overwhelmed any hesitation. Tenderly, he reached out to pull you into his embrace, tucking your face into the reassuring warmth of his chest.

You immediately melted against him, tremors wracking your frame as the tears soaked through the soft cotton of his dress shirt. Akaashi just held you close, cheek pillowed atop your crown as he murmured soothing reassurances.

"It's okay, just breathe...you've got this..."

In that dimly-lit sanctuary of your bedroom, he allowed himself to admit the truth simmering beneath his concern - the soft cadence of your breath fanning across his collarbone, the pliant weight of you cradled against his chest...it all felt so intrinsically right. As if you belonged sheltered in his arms.

The realization should have startled Akaashi more than it did. Yet, somehow his heart had already accepted the quiet inevitability of the tenderness blooming between you two over years of being roommates.

Eventually, your hitched breathing began to even out, arms tentatively circling his waist as you reigned in your spiked emotions. When at last you pulled back, Akaashi was gutted by your reddened eyes and wan expression - outer signs of the immense strain you were enduring.

"God, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, avoiding his gaze self-consciously. "You must think I'm an over-emotional wreck."

"Not at all," he replied, cupping your cheek with one palm to tilt your face back toward him. "You've been pushing yourself incredibly hard. It's only natural the stress would eventually need an outlet."

Akaashi held your wavering stare, silently willing you to grasp his understanding, his concern, the unacknowledged tenderness reflecting behind his carefully composed exterior. Finally, you managed a watery semblance of your usual vibrant smile - a flicker of your indomitable spirit that never failed to stir his heart.

"Thank you, Akaashi. I don't know what I'd do without your steadying presence when I'm a mess like this."

"Anytime," he murmured, the words carrying more weight than he perhaps intended. Clearing his throat, he sat back on his heels. "Now...why don't you take a short break, splash some water on your face? Then come find me in the living room. I'll help you go over whatever topics are tripping you up."

Your eyes widened fractionally at his offer of studying together, then crinkled with renewed determination and gratitude. "Really? You don't mind? God, that would be incredible..."

"Of course not. We'll tackle this together." Akaashi rose fluidly to his feet. "I'll put on a pot of tea for us."

As he retreated into the hallway, he couldn't deny the faint fluttering warmth that blossomed in his chest. Though he assisted you frequently with your coursework, there was an unusual anticipation thrumming beneath his skin now. Perhaps amplified by those tender, unfurling moments of connection in your bedroom.

He allowed himself a fleeting smile, letting the cozy atmosphere of your shared apartment enfold him as he busied himself preparing the tea tray. Yes, something had definitively shifted between you two tonight. And Akaashi found himself unexpectedly eager to embrace whatever this newintimacy ushered in.

The gentle rattling of ceramic cups and quiet brewing of the electric kettle provided a soothing soundtrack as Akaashi arranged the tea tray. He inhaled the grounding aroma of bergamot and lemon, mentally preparing himself to tackle your studies with the same care he devoted to his editorial work.

Just as he finished setting out the teacups, you padded into the living room - face scrubbed clean and radiant smile tentatively resurfacing. Akaashi felt his chest constrict at how achingly tender and vulnerable you appeared, swathed in an over-sized university hoodie. He had to resist the sudden impulse to pull you back into his arms.

"Hey, all set whenever you are," you murmured, rubbing the dampness from your cheeks. You settled cross-legged on the floor, back resting against the sofa as you gathered your notes and textbooks onto the coffee table.

Akaashi poured the fragrant tea, sliding one steaming cup towards you before joining on the floor opposite. You offered him a grateful look over the rim as you sipped carefully, face visibly relaxing as the warmth seeped into you.

"Okay," he prompted in that low, soft timbre of his. "Where should we start?"

You worried your bottom lip - an endearing quirk he'd noticed you did when concentrating hard. "Umm...organic chemistry has been really kicking my ass lately. If we could go over some of the molecular structure concepts?"

Nodding, Akaashi reached for your notebook, allowing your shoulders to brush in the process. A shiver rippled through you that had nothing to do with the temperature. He pretended not to notice, keeping his focus trained on the page as he scanned your scattered notations with a practiced editorial eye.

"I can see where you're getting tripped up on the hybridization models..." he mused, fingers unconsciously smoothing the rumpled pages with a delicate touch.

With that same deft cadence he used to break down complex manga narratives and storyboards, Akaashi began illuminating the organic chemistry topics that were giving you trouble. You quickly became absorbed in his low, authoritative explanations - leaning incrementally closer until your knees knocked together every time you shifted position.

Akaashi's mouth went dry whenever your raptured gaze lifted to his, those expressive eyes drinking in each new nuance he highlighted. He couldn't resist the temptation to reach out, large palms engulfing your smaller hands to guide them through the molecular diagram you were struggling with.

You seemed to shudder bodily at the contact, but didn't pull away. If anything, you gravitated infinitesimally nearer to his orbit until the earthy sandalwood scent of his cologne enveloped you completely.

For his part, Akaashi felt utterly transfixed dissecting the intricacies of organic chemistry with you. Long minutes blurred into hours, marked only by the occasional rasp of your pencil scratching out new understandings and quiet stretch of reaching for your rapidly cooling tea.

A heady sort of intimacy had descended over the hushed apartment - suspended in a gossamer pocket of time where only the two of you existed. Even when a shrill trill from your phone interrupted, shattering the weighted quiet, neither of you startled apart.

"Shit, it's Kou checking in..." you murmured vaguely, swiping to silence the incessant buzzing without sparing the screen a glance.

A tiny furrow appeared between Akaashi's brows, unable to fully mask the fleeting pang of disappointment. Of course Bokuto would want to catch up with his baby sister. He tamped down whatever misguided sentiments had begun flickering to life and refocused on the present lesson.

A new cadence emerged over the ensuing weeks - you and Akaashi settling into a ritual of late-night cram sessions in the living room after he returned from the office. What had begun as his kind offer of a studious assist gradually deepened into something richer, more intimate. Textbooks became the pretense, while conversations about Akaashi's editorial work for up-and-coming mangaka and your academic ambitions flowed more organically.

He savored those hushed interludes, coveting each fresh glimpse into your spirit and psyche that you shyly unveiled over mugs of bergamot tea and pages. You seemed to come alive at night, unfurling from your usual subdued daytime presence into an incandescent force as radiant as your legendary brother.

On nights when Bokuto himself burst into the apartment unannounced for a visit, his raucous presence felt strangely...diminishing. Like an intrusion upon the rarefied bubble of connection you and Akaashi had begun delicately cultivating, no matter how inadvertent.

"Hey hey hey!!!" The boisterous owl'd screech, sweeping his baby sister up in his signature crushing embrace much to her squealing protests. "There're my two favorite roomies!!"

For the span of those chaotic visits, you and Akaashi became spectators in your own apartment - observing from the periphery as Bokuto dominated the space with his overwhelming charm and delirious anecdotes. Invariably, you would share a look with Akaashi from across the room - shining with a sort of knowing affection and silent promise to reconvene your quieter interlude once the whirlwind subsided.

Bokuto remained blissfully oblivious to the undercurrent shifting between you, of course. But with each passing day, each fitful study session that bled into the wee hours, Akaashi felt himself falling deeper under the spell of your steady warmth and lighthearted presence.

The selfish part of him began hoarding those sacrosanct one-on-one moments, savoring the intimacy of being the one to share in your blossoming self-discoveries, your academic passions, all crowned by the coquettish smiles and sparkling glances you bestowed upon him alone.

He had become addicted to basking in the rosy glow of your affection on sleepy afternoons when you'd emerge from your bedroom after sleeping late, tousled hair haloing your face. Akaashi routinely lost his train of thought watching you shuffle around the apartment preparing tea and toast, rumpled and soft and utterly resplendent in his eyes.

It was during those tranquil respites between lessons that the reality of his deepening feelings became unavoidable, even to Akaashi's own practiced aloofness. You had worked your way under his skin, into his veins, until his every waking moment centered upon your orbit. With each night that blurred into dawning tenderness, he felt himself teetering perilously towards falling utterly, hopelessly in love.

The soft patter of rain against the windowpanes provided a soothing ambient soundtrack as you pored over your psychology textbook. Akaashi sat beside you on the couch, leg brushing yours as he leaned in to examine the passage you were struggling to grasp.

"So the key difference between the Psychoanalytic and Behaviorist models is..." His low, modulated timbre washed over you as he began breaking down the nuances.

You bit your lip, nodding along while trying to concentrate despite the incredible proximity of his body heat and intoxicating sandalwood cologne. Akaashi's attentive gaze flickered between you and the text, entirely focused on elucidating the intricate psychological concepts until comprehension finally sparked behind your eyes.

"Ohhh, I think I'm getting it now..." you murmured, scribbling a few shorthand notes in the margin. "The Psychoanalytic looks at the deeper underlying motivations like Freudian psyche stuff, whereas Behaviorist is all about external conditioning and reinforcement?"

Akaashi's lips curved into a pleased smile - warm approval crinkling the corners of his steel-grey eyes. "Exactly. You've got a keen understanding."

You basked in the subtle praise, preening slightly under his undivided attention. An unexpected crack of thunder punctuated the moment, making you jump. Akaashi steadied you with a light touch on your shoulder, fingers lingering perhaps a beat too long.

"Perhaps we should take a break?" he suggested, eyes crinkling fondly at your startled reaction. "My brain could use a reprieve from the academic intensity."

"Oh? Did you have something else in mind?" You arched a brow teasingly.

The longer you pursued your studies together during these late-night sessions, the more your dynamic had evolved beyond a simple student-mentor rapport. An undercurrent of flirtatious energy had begun simmering between you, acknowledged yet never overtly addressed.

Akaashi hummed, reaching over to snag the TV remote from the end table. "I happened to download a few of the films from that Ghibli retrospective you mentioned wanting to see..."

Your face lit up at the casual reminder of an offhand comment you'd made ages ago - pleasantly surprised that he had taken note.

"Seriously? God, you're the best study-buddy ever!" You immediately shifted onto the floor, cozying into the plush area rug as Akaashi cued up the first animated film.

He chuckled - a low rumbling rasp that did funny things to your equilibrium these days. "At the rate we're accruing all-nighters, calling me a 'study-buddy' is practically an insult to my scholarly dedication."

"Oh, I'm sorry - should I call you Keeeiii-jiiiii Sensei instead?" you quipped with a theatrical bat of your lashes.

His only response was an exaggerated roll of eyes as he settled in beside you, near enough for your shoulders to brush with each intake of breath. The movie flickered to life, casting the living room in bursts of jewel-toned light and shadow.

Though you tried valiantly to remain attentive and absorb the artistry of the acclaimed anime, you gradually became ensnared by heavy lidded drowsiness as the opening scenes played out. Something about the ambient patter of rain, the easy cadence of Akaashi's breathing beside you, it all lulled you into a deeply contented state far too cozy to resist.

At some point, you must have drifted off entirely because you startled back to awareness cradled in Akaashi's arms as he carried you down the hallway to your bedroom. You instinctively nuzzled against the solid plane of his chest, relishing the sandalwood cologne and clean linen scent enveloping you both.

Akaashi went very still for a suspended moment, the muscles in his arms tensing almost imperceptibly around you. His jaw worked briefly before he spoke in a hushed murmur pitched low enough not to disturb the night quiet.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to wake you," he rumbled, negotiating the last few steps into your bedroom with that same liquid grace he possessed. "You looked so peaceful, I wanted to get you somewhere more comfortable to sleep."

You peeled open one heavy-lidded eye, reflexively cataloging how the silvery moonlight gilded the elegant planes of his face, casting his stormy irises in softer grays. Even sleep-addled, you recognized the thrilling intimacy of being gathered against Akaashi's solidly muscular frame like a lover's embrace.

The staccato pounding of raindrops against the windows intensified into a deafening roar as the storm system raged outside. You shivered involuntarily, rubbing your hands along your arms despite being cocooned in one of Akaashi's worn university hoodies that smelled intoxicatingly of sandalwood and clove.

A massive crack of thunder boomed directly overhead, causing you to flinch violently. Unconsciously, you scooted infinitesimally closer to where Akaashi sat beside you on the floor - back against the couch as you pored over notes and textbooks strewn across the coffee table.

He paused, keen eyes flickering over to study your tense form briefly before returning his focus to the biochem flashcards you were meant to be reviewing. A few beats of weighted silence passed, punctuated only by the howling winds.

Then, with a blinding flash, every lamp and light fixture extinguished - plunging the apartment into absolute inky darkness.

You couldn't help the tiny whimper that scraped up your throat as you froze, pulse thundering wildly in your ears. From the void beside you came the rustle of movement, callused fingers tenderly circling your wrist.

"Hey...you're alright," Akaashi's deep timbre washed over you, resonant and reassuring even without being able to see his features. "Just a power outage from the storm. We have candles and battery lamps, don't worry."

You bobbed your head numbly, unconsciously leaning into the warmth and solidness of his presence beside you. Akaashi seemed to register the slight tremors rippling through you because he shifted nearer until your thighs were flush, cocooning you in his orbit.

"Give me a moment to find the emergency lights," he murmured, thick lashes brushing your knuckles fleetingly before he retreated.

You heaved a shuddering breath, internally willing your racing heart to slow. The pounding rain and occasional crackling bursts of thunder sounded more ominous in the yawning darkness, sending fresh prickles skittering down your spine.

Just when you felt on the precipice of panicking, Akaashi's low tenor carried over from behind the sectional.

"Got it."

Momentarily, a warm golden glow began emanating from the kitchen as he lit an array of utility candles and lanterns. He reappeared bearing several flickering flames and a fleece blanket tucked under his arm.

You shakily exhaled in profound relief at the sight of him - your safe harbor. Without preamble, Akaashi settled right beside you on the floor, draping the heavy fleece comforter over both of your laps before tucking you against his side.

"Better?" he murmured gently.

You could only nod, nuzzling deeper into the solid warmth of him while the flickering candle flames cast his striking features in dancing shadows and light. Akaashi maneuvered his long limbs until you were nestled into his embrace, his chin grazing the crown of your head.

Minutes ticked by, your thundering heartbeat gradually receding to a more sedate cadence in tandem with the rhythmic rise and fall of Akaashi's chest beneath your cheek. You allowed your eyes to drift shut, savoring the cocooning sanctuary of blankets, flickering candelabra, and his intoxicating spice-and-cedarwood cologne.

"This reminds me of being a kid and having sleepovers during thunderstorms," you mumbled groggily against his solid frame.

A rumbling chuckle reverberated beneath your palms where they rested over his heart.

"Is that so? I can't say I have many nostalgic memories of making pillow forts and telling ghost stories with friends."

You cracked open one eye to peer up at his striking silhouette, mouth tugging in a bemused smile. "No? I suppose actively seeking out haunted places for volleyball practice with Kou was more your style."

Akaashi snorted softly, letting the gentle teasing roll off him with fond exasperation. You drank in the way the muted candlelight played over the elegant slopes of his profile, heartbeat catching at the tenderness reflected in his storm-cloud irises. Quite abruptly, it struck you just how closely intertwined you were sprawled together.

Your nose was mere centimeters from grazing the stubbled hinge of his jaw as your gazes locked and held. A kaleidoscope of expressions flickered across Akaashi's face too quickly to decipher - tender longing, surprise, the quietest yearning. You felt simultaneously emboldened and paralyzed by the magnetism charging the scant breaths separating you.

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip instinctively and you were powerless to stop your own from mirroring the motion. That simple flick of movement brought your shared awareness crashing into riotous clarity.

"Y/N..." Akaashi's murmur vibrated over your swiftly warming skin like the rumble of oncoming thunder.

More words seemed to tether on the tip of his tongue, weighted and unspoken. Instead, he slowly inclined his face nearer - silently beseeching for permission with those piercing steel-grey irises. Your own eyes fluttered shut, tilting up to meet him halfway in quiet invitation.

The roar of the raging storm outside dimmed to a distant thrum as Akaashi closed the last hairsbreadth between your parted lips. His mouth slanted over yours in a slow, exploratory glide of searing heat. An electrical current jolted through you, catalyzing an invisible spark that ignited something molten and cataclysmic threatening to engulf you both in its fervor.

The gentle rasp of Akaashi's stubble feathering your cheek contrasted exquisitely with the velvet glide of his mouth moving in unhurried exploration across yours. You sank feverishly into the intimate glide, emboldened by his smoldering patience to tease the seam of his lips with a flick of your tongue.

He rewarded your ardor with a low rumbling exhale, immediately deepening the lush kiss and cradling your nape to tilt your head to a more devouring angle. The hand spanning your lower back scorched through the thin cotton barrier, urging you closer until you were sprawled fully across his powerful thighs.

A rush of trembling desire flooded your veins at the dominance of his hold, the tender way his other palm cradled your flushed cheek as if you were something precious to be cherished. You curled your fingers against the taut muscles sheathed by his t-shirt, absorbing the staggering heat radiating from him in waves.

Gradually, the leisurely sensuality of exchanging openmouthed kisses in the flickering candlelight evolved into something rawer, more heated. Akaashi's normally implacable control began shredding away as your tongue tangled with his in delirious cadence, exchanging breathy moans between slick slides of intimate friction.

His broad hands roamed in smoldering exploration - tracing the feminine dip of your waist, palming the flare of your hip in a commanding grip that sent your head spinning. When his calloused thumb traced the underside curve of your breast, you gasped into his mouth - entire body arching wantonly against the rigid line of his arousal.

The barest thread of sanity had you breaking away, reeling for oxygen in harsh pants against the glistening angle of Akaashi's jaw. His quicksilver gaze watched you through a lust-dazed haze, pulse fluttering wildly beneath his flushed skin where you cupped the column of his throat. Slowly, reverently, he turned to feather a trail of searing kisses along your quickening pulse point.

"Keiji..." you whimpered, fingers spasming against his chest when the velvet heat of his mouth found the juncture of your shoulder, teeth grazing tauntingly. "I can't...we should—ah!"

The needy whine sheared off as he sucked a blistering mark just below your clavicle, tongue flickering to soothe the hot sting of overstimulation. His knowing hum ricocheted straight to your molten core, heavy-lidded eyes lifting to pin you in place with fathomless yearning.

"We can stop whenever you wish," Akaashi rasped roughly against your damp skin, callused palms smoothing inescapable paths down your trembling body. "But I personally have no intention of going slowly after wanting this for so torturously long..."

You swallowed thickly, sanity careening precariously as his midnight timbre ghosted like sin over the swell of your breasts, lips mapping a scorching path lower with every inhalation. The last coherent thought filtering through ribboned into embers as Akaashi pressed you back onto the plush shag rug - moonlight and swaying candleflames framing his predatory form hovering above you.

"If I have my way, we won't be stopping until I've learned every exquisite sound you make," he whispered, nimble fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your borrowed hoodie. "Until you're utterly ruined for anyone else, only ever remembering how it feels to be loved by me."

A keening whimper rose unbidden in your throat, hips canting instinctively as his callused palms glided over the exposed expanse of your midriff. Akaashi's answering smirk was pure wickedness, the promise of a reckoning looming in his molten stare as his hands traveled further upwards.

"Let me show you how badly I've been craving you..." he murmured, palming your breasts in a kneading caress that left you gasping and arching wantonly. When his thumb grazed the pebbled peaks, you arched mindlessly into the delicious friction, eyes drifting shut with a low moan. Akaashi's rumbling chuckle rippled over your skin, then his scorching mouth was descending to follow his deft hands.

Your spine bowed when he took one nipple between his lips, rolling and tugging it until the pleasure was near-blinding. Akaashi's name tumbled from your lips in a fevered prayer, fingers scrabbling uselessly against his broad shoulders. His free hand grasped your hip in a firm hold, pinning you to the rug as his mouth continued its ruthless assault on the other pebbled bud.

You squirmed helplessly against the searing contact, panting for air as your blood boiled. All the while, Akaashi never faltered in his meticulous attentions - suckling and grazing his teeth until the ache coalesced into a desperate throbbing.

"Please..." you finally cried out, nails scoring his shirt with desperation.

Akaashi relented at last, raising his head with a wet pop to regard your wrecked state. His eyes flashed, mouth curving into a devastating smirk as he pressed a tender kiss to the center of your sternum.

"So pretty when you beg..."

Before you could even process his words, he was lowering his mouth between your trembling thighs - callused palms prying them wider apart. You keened at the first slick sweep of his tongue over your clothed core, fingers fisting desperately into the plush rug.

"F-fuck..."

The profanity spilled unbidden from your lips, incinerated by the white-hot sensation of Akaashi lapping greedily between your legs. His dark hair fell in silky disarray, obscuring his face where his nose nudged against your swollen bud. A growl rumbled up his throat as his tongue flattened against the soaked fabric.

"These need to go..." he mumbled, already reaching to slide your shorts and panties down your trembling legs. You barely had a moment to process his intent before his scorching mouth was descending upon the throbbing flesh, lapping and sucking until your entire body shuddered with need.

You writhed helplessly, head falling back onto the rug with a strangled cry. Akaashi's groan vibrated against your core, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs as he devoured you. His tongue swirled and plunged, driving you into a frenzy of pleasure so intense you felt your entire being shattering.

The world blurred and warped into a shimmering prism of sensation as he sucked mercilessly on your clit, the sharp scrape of his stubble against your inner thighs sending sparks ricocheting through your system. You keened, bucking helplessly against his merciless mouth.

"God, right there!"

Akaashi seemed to drink in the frenzied praise, doubling his efforts until your vision whitened at the edges. He growled possessively, nipping your swollen bud just as his fingers slid through the dripping mess to find your aching entrance.

One blunt digit plunged into your quivering core, then two. You were already clenching tightly around the welcome intrusion, riding the knife's edge of a bone-deep orgasm. Akaashi curled his fingers, seeking that elusive spot as his lips suctioned ruthlessly.

It only took a few expert strokes of his digits and the wicked swipe of his tongue before the world disintegrated. Your spine bowed violently, a scream tearing from your lungs as pleasure detonated along every nerve. Akaashi kept pumping, coaxing you through wave after wave of pulsing heat.

Gradually, you came back down to earth in a boneless puddle - heart racing and muscles trembling. Akaashi's dark hair was a complete wreck, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy as he watched you through thick lashes. The corner of his mouth lifted, lips glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he murmured hoarsely, leaning down to drag a slow kiss across your trembling abdomen. You whimpered at the tender contact, fingers sliding into the silk of his locks.

When he pulled back, it was only to peel his shirt over his head - revealing the sculpted planes of his torso in all its glory. Akaashi's eyes flashed as he watched your appreciative stare drinking in the sight, his cock visibly twitching in his jeans.

He surged up to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss, tongue swirling against yours with a renewed fervor. You tasted the musk of yourself lingering on his mouth, the heady rush of sensation making you arch against his body.

Your hands roamed hungrily, mapping the dips and ridges of muscle along his back. When they drifted lower, he groaned low in his throat as you palmed the stiff line of his arousal through the denim. Akaashi's own hands were busy divesting you of your remaining clothing - shoving the hoodie up to expose the curves of your breasts again.

You squirmed, grinding against the rigid pressure as the tension rapidly spiraled towards unbearable. Akaashi's jaw tensed, a muscle feathering in his cheek as his nostrils flared. He broke the kiss to reach down and roughly free himself, hissing at the sensation.

Your lips parted on a silent gasp as you took in the sight of his cock. Even the first few inches jutting out above his fist looked painfully thick, a bead of precome welling at the tip.

Akaashi met your gaze, a flush staining his cheeks as you watched him stroke the swollen flesh. His stormy eyes were hooded, pupils blown wide and glimmering with restrained hunger.

"Is this what you want?" he rasped, voice fraying at the edges as his cockhead nudged the slick folds. You bit your lip, arching closer as he dragged his length along the slit - coating himself in your arousal. "You need to tell me if it's too much, okay?"

"Yes...please, Keiji..."

Your head fell back with a broken moan as he slid into your tight, fluttering entrance inch by inch. Akaashi's mouth fell open on a groan, hips stuttering when he finally bottomed out.

The delicious stretch of him filled you completely, every ridge and vein pulsing inside your walls. Your nails scored his back as you shifted restlessly, acclimating to the overwhelming sensation of fullness.

Akaashi exhaled shakily, nuzzling your neck as his palm skated down your stomach to find your throbbing clit. His hips began rocking gently, pulling out to the tip before sliding back into the welcoming clutch of your walls.

You clung to him, shuddering and moaning at the incredible friction. The air grew heavier, more charged with each deliberate glide - the wet sound of your coupling ringing obscenely. Akaashi's mouth was hot against your flushed skin, tongue sweeping out to taste the salt.

His hips gradually gained momentum, driving deeper until you were nearly delirious with pleasure. The room spun, every nerve singing. When he adjusted the angle to hit the sensitive spot deep inside, a breathless cry tore from your throat.

"God, right there, please don't stop!"

The command was punctuated with a roll of your own hips, seeking the delicious friction. Akaashi growled, teeth nipping your jaw as he drove into you harder - his thumb circling your clit faster.

Your second orgasm slammed into you with the force of a freight train. You screamed, eyes screwing shut as the blinding pleasure ricocheted through your veins. Your walls clamped around his shaft, milking him with a spasm.

With a guttural curse, Akaashi's hips stuttered and his cock pulsed violently. You felt the drag of him sliding out, then the hot splash of his cum coating your abdomen. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his glassy, lust-addled stare.

He braced his weight on trembling arms, dipping his head to capture your lips in a deep, soul-stealing kiss. Your tongues tangled languidly, sharing breathless little gasps and moans. When he finally broke away, it was only to press a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.

"You are so beautiful..."

His reverent murmur ghosted over your skin, making your chest clench. You carded your fingers through the silky locks, smoothing his hair back. Akaashi's eyelids drooped, savoring the contact before lifting them to reveal that same intense tenderness.

You could feel yourself getting lost in the stormy gray, drifting closer. His gaze was magnetic, drawing you in. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, pausing with his lips a hair's breadth from yours.

"Can we do that again?" he murmured, the ghost of a smirk playing about his mouth.

Your laughter pealed through the darkened room, bright and free. You felt lightheaded with elation, heart brimming.

"As often as you want," you promised, nipping playfully at his lower lip. "Although I hope there are some positions other than missionary..."

"I'll give you all my best ones," Akaashi rumbled, his expression turning positively sinful. "Over the couch, in the shower, bent over the kitchen table...every surface in this apartment..."

You hummed thoughtfully, running a teasing fingertip along the curve of his jaw. "What about the bed?"

His eyes sparkled, the corner of his mouth quirking. "Especially the bed."

You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss - the last rational thought to filter through ribboning into a whisper.

"It's a date, then."

The door rattled violently as a sudden pounding echoed through the apartment. You and Akaashi froze in naked surprise on the living room couch.

"BABY SIS! YOU IN THERE?! I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE!" Bokuto's frantic bellow reverberated down the hall, accompanied by more insistent knocking.

Your eyes widened in panic as Akaashi hurriedly grabbed a throw blanket, shielding your bare forms just as the front door burst open. Framed in the doorway stood Bokuto, drenched from head to toe and illuminated by the beam of a flashlight clutched in one hand.

"There you are! Are you okay?" His wild eyes swept the room before locking onto you huddled against Akaashi's equally undressed form on the sofa. "I knew how freaked out you get during big storms so I rushed over as soon as the--"

Bokuto's words sheared off abruptly as the realization visibly slammed into him. His owlish gaze bounced between you and Akaashi slack-jawed, the flashlight beam spinning dizzily. You shrank back, clutching the blanket modestly as a blistering blush consumed your face.

Akaashi, damn him, simply held Bokuto's shocked stare with infuriatingly placid nonchalance.

An eternity seemed to stretch in that crackling, awkward moment. Finally, Bokuto swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing.

"I...I'll umm...I'll just..." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder before slowly pivoting on his heel.

Silently, with exaggerated care, Bokuto began shuffling backwards out of the apartment - gaze studiously averted and mouth still agape. When he reached the door he briefly met Akaashi's unflinching stare one last time before whirling around and bolting.

The door slammed with a rattling boom, leaving you and Akaashi alone once more amid the flickering candles in a weighty hush.

You chanced a sidelong glance at Akaashi, unable to bite back the somewhat hysterical giggle bubbling up.

"Well...I suppose there are worse ways for him to find out we're...you know..."

Akaashi merely hummed, mouth kicking up in a wry half-smile as he tugged you snugly against his chest once more.

"Indeed. Though I must admit, I've never seen Bokuto-san's typically energetic demeanor so effectively stunned into silence."

Laughing helplessly, you nuzzled into the sleep-warmed crook of his neck - delighting in the simple intimacy of being wrapped up with the man you adored after the mortifying interruption.

"Should we be expecting the shovel talk next time he comes barreling in?" you teased lightly.

"Undoubtedly," Akaashi rumbled, fingertips trailing patterns along the exposed expanse of your back that raised goosebumps. "Just another family bonding moment to look forward to."

You hummed contentedly, sinking deeper into his solid embrace as the rumbling storm outside at last began tapering off to distant echoes. A new dawn was cresting over the horizon, heralding uncharted beginnings filled with promise.

[cottonlemonade]

heyy! SO glad to see you're having another event!! The last piece with kags was so cute!!

For this event- i'd really like to order a large americano for here with iwaizumi!

So excited to see what you come up with!

Working From Home

word count: 656 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Iwaizumi x chubby!Reader

genre: fluffy smut

warnings: spoilers, mdni, nsfw (ironically)

____________________________________________

Iwaizumi sighed and stretched his neck. While he enjoyed a little time away from the very energetic roster of the Japanese national team, he was proven time and time again that he was not cut out for office work. The only upside to those days working from home, when he felt chained to the computer, was when your home office days overlapped and he could enjoy the comfort of knowing you shared the same space. Since you worked remotely often, he had made sure to look for an apartment with an extra room with plenty of natural light that could be turned into an actual office. He made a little game out of knocking at your door and announcing himself like a secretary would, whenever he brought you something to eat.

Today however, it seemed like you had finished early and he could hear the quiet bustling of chores as he focused on drawing up a plan for a new training regimen he wanted to try out next week. He sat on the couch, laptop on a tray over his knees, reading over the timeline when a small plate came into view.

“Here, hon. To tie you over until dinner time.”

Iwaizumi looked up at the plate in your hands but was met with the sight of a completely different kind of snack.

A washed out tank top clung to your chubby body - something you often wore while you two did housework. It was an old, ratty thing that was a bit too tight here, too wide there, and had a frayed hem from having washed it too many times. But as if he cared when all of that was paired with his wife clearly not wearing a bra.

“Is it my birthday?”, he asked, very obviously staring at your breasts.

You looked down on yourself, a little puzzled at first, then grinned.

“This is your fantasy?”, you laughed.

“It for sure is the start of one.”

You put the plate on the coffee table and straightened again, highly amused that your husband was not even attempting to hide his stares.

“I thought I’d get a jump on things and do some laundry.”

Iwaizumi didn’t miss a beat. “Can I be laundry?”

You giggled when he put the laptop next to the plate of apple slice you had cut for him and pulled you into his lap - you allowed yourself a bit of shifting so you could comfortably straddle him, your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

Not wasting any time with pretense he brought both hands up to gently grab your breasts, squeezing them when you leaned in for a kiss. You felt like you were back in high school and ignoring homework to fool around.

You chuckled against his lips at his now rhythmic squeezing. “What are you doing?”

“Just relaxing my hands, darling.”, he met your eyes with a smirk, “You know how important it is to loosen your hands every once in a while when working at the computer for too long.”

You nodded along, putting on a serious expression. “Is that so?”

“Hm hm. Trust me, I’m a professional.” He began kissing your neck, giving your now hardened nipples a few brushes with his fingertips.

You let out a moan when his lips went over your shoulder down to your breasts, exposed from him pulling a little at the neckline of your top.

“I remember you said something about regular exercise while in home office as well.”

“You’re such a good listener, babe.”

He lifted you off his lap to lay down the couch, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head, flinging it somewhere behind him and taking your nipple into his mouth.

Large, calloused hands gripped your fleshy hips and he groaned when your plush thigh rubbed against the hard outline in his sweats.

“What about work?”, you teased

“They can live without me for an hour.”

____________________________________________

a/n: thank you for your sweet words! Please enjoy ^^ 🌟

[depravitycentral]

Just a quick passing thought, but I think it's so interesting to know what different yanderes do right in the moment of their orgasm - do they freeze up? Do their hips keep plunging against yours, the movements strained and uneven? Or maybe they reach out and squeeze, needing something to ground themselves with while they whimper and gasp out your name over and over again?

Thinking about yanderes who freeze up and just stare as their orgasm washes over them. The ones who let out this choked gasp as they see white blurs in the edges of their vision, every muscle in their body going taut and freezing up and their jaw dropping wide open because fuck. You just feel too good and they can't help but stare down at your pretty body - naked and sweating and trembling all for them them them, your eyes glassy and wide and spit smeared across your lips from where they'd been kissing you. (More like eating you, really, with the vigor and amount of tongue, but it was passionate and sweet and only a little bit one-sided, so that's still kissing, right?) They're scared to move as their cock throbs and pulses inside of you, the feeling of your tight, warm walls making their head spin and honest to god tears well up in the corner of their eyes from the sensation of you.

You're just too much - if they were to move and feel friction against their oversensitive cock they'd let out this pathetic little whine, a sound that makes them flush bright red and avoid eye contact with you because it's just all so embarrassing and needy. So instead, they hover over you, abs clenching and balls noticeably pulsing against the curve of your ass as they feel each and every spurt of cum push into you, the sensation leaving them breathless and burying their face into your neck, little mantras and chants of your name filling your ears. Please come for me, please please please please - they tell you as the last few drops ooze out of them and directly into you.

Asahi Azumane, Tobio Kageyama, Tsutomu Goshiki, Tooru Oikawa, Atsumu Miya, Tomura Shigaraki, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Kurapika Kurta, Knuckle Bine, Giyuu Tomioka, Gyutaro

Thinking of men who lose control of their hips as their orgasm hits them. As soon as the rushed, husky groan of 'm coming, take it, fuck take it slips out of them, the rest of it is a blur. They aren't in control of themselves - their hips move on their own, following some carnal, natural instinct to fuck into you deeper, harder, longer until he's absolutely spent. He's physically crushing you, his hips pounding into you so hard that you're moved further and further up the bed (or the floor, if they couldn't quite make it there), your body merely dead weight. It stems from this urge to fuck their cum into you as deeply as they can, an instinct to claim and mark and breed you overclouding their mind.

There's no moment of rest with them, even after they've given you everything they have - their hips still twitch, pushing forward ever so slightly and making them hiss in pain-twinged pleasure, the oversensitivity and the gooey, warm feeling of their cum coating your walls making them bare their teeth and practically glare at you. You just feel too good - they're an animal around you, truly, and it's only after they're spent that they'll swallow heavily, licking their lips and letting themselves really look at you. To see the way you're panting, how your eyes are all wide, to feel the stinging against their back where you've clawed at them. The afterglow makes them giddy, and even if they don't show it, you'll feel it - the way they slowly grow hard inside of you again is difficult to ignore, after all.

Hajime Iwaizumi, Aran Ojiro, Daichi Sawamura, Yuu Nishinoya, Keishin Ukai, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Akaza, Phinks Magcub, Uvogin, Hisoka Marrow, Enji Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Kai Chisaki

Thinking of men who have to reach out and grab something to ground themselves with as their high approaches. It feels like a tidal wave, like there's something warm and big and hot building up in their navel, the sensation making their toes curl and their eyes cross and their muscles spasm and a hand reach out blindly, feeling, squeezing, groping - It's their tether to Earth as the wave crashes and breaks, ropes of cum shooting from their swollen, sensitive tip, something vaguely resembling your name falling from their lips as they pant into your mouth. It's the only thing keeping them aware of their surroundings, of you, as the pleasure overwhelms them.

And they're not especially picky about where they're grabbing onto for support, either - anything that's fatty and nearby will do. Your thigh, your hips, your stomach, your breast, your arm, hell, even your neck will do. Thick fingers wrap around the flesh, squeezing hard enough to leave light, finger-shaped bruises on your skin, their muscles still twitching against you as they groan and grunt, hips occasionally bucking into yours but losing momentum. You can actually feel how their orgasm and your cunt are affecting them this way - the way they grasp onto you even tighter when you accidentally clench down on them, the hiss they let out through clenched teeth seeming to make that spurt shoot into you even harder. And their hand doesn't always stay idle, either - they're actively moving it around as their orgasm continues on, switching from your chest to your hip to your cheek and back against to settle heavily against your nipple, burying their face between your tits as they groan and pathetically hump at you. And while they'll feel a bit guilty for the marks the next day, they can't hide the tent forming in their pants or the way they have to clear their throat to avoid telling you that they needs to leave more.

Nobunaga Hazama, Shalnark, Leorio Paradinight, Tetsurou Kuroo, Koushi Sugawara, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Lev Haiba, Gyomei Himejima, Douma, Kyojuro Rengoku, Toshinori Yagi, Spinner

[barbies1shots]

mafia boyfriend husband with one of your favs ..? messy office sex ..? hyper fem reader ..? sunshine/grumpy visuals ..? love confessions ..? with a little bit of gore ..?

thinkin bout your fav mafia bf with his hand up your skirt, messing with your folds under the table as he speaks to his mobsters and lackeys with little respect. the way his voice booms throughout the room, catching everyones attention and demaning everyones admiration.

his fingers only play with you, not actually catching your clit in his fingers and giving it the attention you wanted. not pushing his longer, thicker fingers in your entrance to give you wonderful pleasure all over again.

you sit comfortably in his lap, your pink skirt and pink sandals contrasting largely against the blacks, grays, and whites in the meeting room. you wanted to accompany your boyfriend in the meeting he had today. it was something about something else, but you weren't listening when he explained it to you, so now, you just sit and be pretty for him. he liked way your thighs jolt with every little move he did. he made your belts and accessories cling and clack with your movement. your pink baby tee is too small for your bust as your tummy was out and showing your (also pink) belly piercing.

you held your phone in your lap as you tried your hardest not to move, not wanting to make your man irritated or annoyed. his fingers slipped lower, making your breath catch in your throat. his fingers tip edged itself inside you, and you spread your legs more, just so he can have more room to move. you bit your lip, once again not wanting to make any noise yet -

"..sir? dont you think shes a bit of a distraction..?" a small trembly voice said around the table, making the air still as your man took in his words. "i mean.. shes basically dry humping your leg," he laughed outloud.

a moment passed. then two. then three. your man stopped his wandering and tilted his head up from where he dropped it on your shoulder (watching as you added things into your cart). he tilted his head to the left as he scanned the boy up and down. "stand up." your man commanded, immediately making every other man in the room flinch and tense.

the boy stood up with a small nervous smile. you also looked up and shifted a bit in your mans lap, crossing one leg over the other (the mood rudely interrupted) and tilted your head the same way with a small glint in your eyes.

"what is this boys name..?" he asks his right hand man, who answers swiftly. as you heard the answer, you lifted a hand to your lips to cover up a small laugh.

the boy, as he stood, looked at you with a confused face, "whats so funny, huh?" he asked as he fidgeted with his shirt hemming. his eyes shifted from you, to the man your sitting on, to your mans right hand, to the built guards in the back of the room and cameras.

"nothing, it's just.. you're so goofy!" you laughed again, louder this time. you laugh was the only thing ringing about the room as you hunched over from your laughs. "you really dont understand, do you?" you said at the end of your laughing fit, making your man smirk as he leaned back in his seat, shifting his hips a bit and making you bounce slightly on his lap.

"what are you talking abo-" his sentence got cut off abruptly by a slim bullet passing through and exiting his thin skull. his body tensed for a bit as his mouth opened and his eyes fogged before his body slumped in on itself, his arms caved and his legs completely jelly. he fell limp onto the table as his facial features twitched and his fingers trembled. his eyes stayed open as they stayed stuck on your pretty form.

"boys are so dumb, aren't they, baby?" you smiled at the dead boys face as the blood started to pool around him.

your man smiled and reached a hand out to pull you closer to him by your hips, "yes they are, my love." he said, his eyes flickering over to his right-hand man and signaling him to clean up the dead body, "anyone else wants to speak out of term?" he asked, low and monotonous as he scanned the room with his eyes. he leaned down with a menacing smirk and kissed the side of your head.

"thats what i thought." you snickered out and rolled your eyes at the men who were basically shaking in their chairs.

☆

soon after the meeting was over, your man had a large hand around your neck, keeping you still as he drilled his hips up and unto yours. your hands were tied behind your back with your own pink belt.

you whined loudly, wanting to touch your man, but he kept you still as you tried to shy away from brutal thrusts. you stuck your tongue out, and he greedily stucked on it, making spit drip down from the slobbery kiss. the drool quickly made your baby tee wet and his button uo shurt damp.

his chair creaked with every thrust into you, and every whine escaped your lips, made him come closer and closer to his waiting climax. his hand tighted around your neck, and his other hand sped up the pace he set for the both of you.

"you were so gorgeous today, my love. i want you to be by my side." he groaned out, wanting nothing more than to please you and forget about himself. to make you so happy that you forget about everyone else but him.

i was thinkin bout satoru n his best friend, suguru lowk .

-Aizawas BARB !

[makkir0ll]

hey hey hey! I was really inspired with the prompts for your event but no pressure, just take the ones that inspire you!

4 + futakuchi

7 + shirabu

15 + daichi

14 + tsukishima

22 + akaashi

24 + oikawa

33 + suna

46 + kuroo

48 + kita

51 + atsumu!

again congrats for the 200 followers!!

love all these prompts and it was hard to pick just one, hope you like it!

200 milestone event!

atsumu + 51 ("i could lift you up off the floor while kissing you"/ "excu- what are you doing?! put me down!")

warnings: slightly suggestive towards the end.

away games were the hardest for atsumu. the flights were long and tiring, the food wasn't the best, the hotel room mattress weren't as good as the one at his house. but most of all, he had to be away from you.

call it cheesy or whatever but atsumu hated being away from you, especially now that the two of you had just got married it was even worse. he hated that the food he ate wasn't cooked by you, the mattress didn't have your body laying next to his. but, it did make coming home so much sweeter.

when he walked through the door, yelling "honey! i'm home" a joke the two of you started to do after seeing it on a movie. he kicks off his shoes when he see's you run to him, jumping up and wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug as you pepper kisses down his neck and he takes in a deep breath, smelling the floral shampoo on your hair.

while he began to unwind form the long trip by taking a shower and using the same floral shampoo that you used on yourself, you started to make him a good dinner because after every away game he always complained how the food never tasted as good as yours.

as you're chopping up some vegetables you feel his arms wrap around your waist, water droplets from his damp hair falling down to your neck as he whispers how much he misses you in your ear.

" 'tsumu, i'm cooking right now please get off." you joke, trying to kick your husband away but he seems to hold onto you tighter, pulling you closer to his chest and with an exasperated sigh you drop the knife and turn off the stove so you can turn around to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and all attempts to act annoyed fly out the door when you see his lovesick amber eyes looking down at you.

"i missed you," he whispers, leaning down to press a small peck to your lips, "so much." he presses another. this time you hold him there, kissing him slowly taking your time to explore each other as if it's your first time. the position is uncomfortable though, you standing on your tippy toes, the only balance you have being holding onto his neck which is craned down somewhat awkwardly but he doesn't mind as long as his lips are on yours.

in the middle of the kiss you begin to lose your balance, toes aching from holding their position for so long and you stumble into him, leading to him breaking the kiss with a soft chuckle.

"don't laugh." you say smacking his chest.

"what, i ain't laughing love." he's biting his lip to contain himself. "can't help if yer falling for me, hm?" he teases.

"you're cheesy." you retort, cheeks turning bright red at your husband's stupid comment. even after years of the two of you being together he still manages to get reactions out of you.

"ya love it though," he whispers, leaning in for another kiss but you lose your balance, yet again. but he holds onto you, stabilizing you. but a light bulb goes off in his head.

pulling away from the kiss, a whine leaving your throat as you try and chase his lips he says with pride, "i could lift ya up off the floor while kissin' ya."

your eyebrowns quirk up, the random fact that he stated confusing you. "excu- hey!" your thoughts get cut off when you feel his arms wrap around under your butt to lift you up and it takes you by surprise. "what are you doing?! 'tsumu put me down!" you yell through fits of laughter as he picked you up with ease. it wasn't like atsumu never picked you up but normally you would atleast jump for him, so him picking you up with pure strength was something that (quite frankly) kind of made your husband ten times hotter to you.

with your legs dangling above the floor, swinging back and forth as he spun you around, causing more fits of laughter that erupted from your throat, making his heart swell. he slowly comes to a stop as your faces are mere centimeters away from each other, and being at eye level you take note of how his brown irises were almost barely visible with how dilated his pupils were as he looked at your flushed cheeks, messy hair, and bitten lips that were turning a bit redder. he leans in to kiss you yet again, this time it's deeper. the hands that were on your ass gave it a tight squeeze which elicits a moan from your mouth, allowing his tongue to go in to explore your mouth as he had done countless times before. without stopping his actions he begins to move, to what you assume is the direction of your bedroom, not for a second even thinking about putting you down. once he enters the space he kicks the door shut behind him with ease.

dinner could wait a bit, he wanted to get a head start on dessert first.

[heartofjasmina]

Shameless Saturdays

🌸 Hello! 🌸

Welcome to Shameless Saturdays, the weekly meet up where my inbox is open and anon is on for shameless fluff, even more shameless smut, and the vast in between.

Dark content is more than allowed, but I reserve the right not to answer asks that make me uncomfortable. Also, please mark your dark content asks with tw dark content.

I'll open my inbox from 12pm CST to 12am CST and respond to all your asks Saturday and Sunday morning.

All asks will be tagged with ".shameless saturdays" for you to be able to see all the previous weeks asks.

Preferred fandoms: Haikyuu, BNHA, KNB, Blue Lock, JJK, Demon Slayer

🌸 See you on Saturday! 🌸

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 4

one || 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: seijoh4 x gn!reader [ oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, maki ]

warnings: mature content. MDI. cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, the word “dick” said over a million times lol this chapter is basically bigdick!4 supremacy, corny behavior, camboy!maki, slight mentions of degradation, iwa’s is the shortest (I’M SORRY), some minor errors probably and i think that’s it :] !!

notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT :'))) life was kicking my ass and the last thing i could think about was getting metaphorically dicked down lol but hope you enjoy, thank y'all so much for your patience, and the last couple parts coming soon!

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy, @captaincyberqueen , @tsukiran

OIKAWA would be the reason the list even exists, let’s be honest. 

But, for the sake of the plot, we’ll pretend otherwise.

Once again, without fail, after another grand win for the great king, he’s swarmed by his devoted groupies—Shoving their phones, gifts, and themselves in his face hoping to catch even a sliver of his attention.

And once again, you stood on the sidelines, impatiently waiting for him to leave the spotlight; irked your soul sometimes.

It’s not that you were against him being praised or anything, even though his head was fat enough to begin with, you loved the admiration people had for him. But there’s a fine line between being a fan and being a straight-up weirdo. 

And right now, they’re tap-dancing on that line something fierce. 

“Tooru!~ will you sign right here?” 

One pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing more of her breasts that were pushed up damn-near to her chin whilst wearing a sultry smile. You caught a small glimpse of panic flash across his features before he covered it with a nervous laugh, eyes subtly shifting over to you as he replied. “..How 'bout a photo instead?” 

Things went on like that for the next few minutes. Someone would even take it a step further by flat out asking for his number, or if he was single. They already knew the answer to that, it was the same every time, yet they continuously tried their luck as if someday, through the power of delusion and manifestation, his answer would miraculously change despite you always attending his practices and his games, wearing his spare jersey, holding his hand, shoving your tongue down his throat, didn’t matter—Them hoes were relentless.

But, so were you. 

“Oh, Tooru!~ If you don’t wrap this up, you’ll be walking home!~” You sang, mirroring the tone of the girl from earlier. The semi-empty threat made the setter perk up like a hound, eyes wide as that same panic returned as well.

Although this time, he wasn’t so quick to play it off. 

“U-Uh,” he squeaked, then immediately covered by clearing his throat. “Yes, uh, well, it’s been great chatting with you all tonight. Thank you again for your love and support for the team, it's always appreciated. I hope you’ll continue to cheer us and myself oninthefuture—WAIT! [____]-chan! Don’t leave, y’know my poor legs won’t survive the walk back! Baby, c'mon, wait up!” 

Oikawa whined as he scrambled to catch up to your retreating form, no longer concerned with the crowd of disgruntled faces he left behind as they watched their object of affection slip away yet again. A small part of you wanted to turn back and stick your tongue out at them in petty victory, but you refrained. The sound of their great king pleading for your attention was satisfactory enough.

You barely made it outside before his long arms wrapped around your front, locking you to his chest as he leaned almost his entire weight on you. You could feel his heart thrumming against your head as he panted. Eventually, he huffed, no doubt pouting as he gently swayed you in his arms. “You’re mean.” 

Keeping your gaze forward, you frowned. “And I have the right to be. You said you’d tell some of those ‘fans’ of yours to chill out—it’s getting way out of hand, Tooru. That one girl practically flashed her damn tits at you, and you gawked like a virgin.” 

He chortled, incredulously, “I did not! She caught me off guard..!” 

“And yet, you rewarded her with a photo instead of calling out her inappropriate behavior. Make it make sense.” 

You attempted to shrug him off only for his hold to tighten, spinning you around to gaze at you with chocolate brown eyes resembling that of a puppy out in the rain—One of the unfair tactics of Tooru Oikawa to get back on your good side. You had full intent of ignoring him, standing your ground…but how could you possibly stay mad at that adorable face? 

Easy. By not looking directly at it. 

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so,” you gently pushed away the setter’s face, earning another whine in protest. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily. I’m really upset with you.” 

“Buh I dinit do anyfing,” he said through smooshed lips. 

“And that’s the problem. You need to set boundaries with them, Tooru. Things’ll only continue to get out of hand the longer you enable it. Next thing you know they’re clawing and biting at your flesh so they can take a piece of you home with them under their nails and in their teeth.”

Oikawa grimaced, leaning back. “Ew. Graphic. They’re fans, baby, not rabid animals. I think you may be exaggerating.”

You cocked a brow. “Am I now? Well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

The team had never seen their captain move so fast in their entire season. This was the first time he’d just straight up avoided his entourage and head straight for the showers after practice, scurrying off like his ass was on fire. Questions would spark around the gym about this drastic shift in behavior.

“What’s his deal?” One player voiced. “Usually he sticks around at least another hour to entertain his cult.”

“Not sure. After our last game, he’s been skittish.” Another replied.

A third jumped in after taking a swig of his water. “Think it’s got something to do with that..thing we saw the other night?”

The small group thought back to when all of their phones went off at the same time, social medias in a frenzy about their very own star player. At first glance, they figured it was just highlights of their game, specifically highlighting Oikawa. But, upon further inspection…it was something else entirely.

'Tooru Oikawa. 6’3ft King of the Court, and also our hearts. Being notoriously known as the campus pretty boy, loved by many and envied by the rest, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to consider him the blueprint—The default setting of everyone’s wet dream. He’s a tall, talented, smooth-talker with playful eyes and a panty-dropping smile, a textbook definition of  ‘Prince Charming’. Everybody and they mama, daddy, even bald-headed granny would kill to jump this man’s bones. Many would see him as the romantic type, but there’s something more…unhinged hidden beneath the pretty-boy persona. After much debate, our beloved setter is to be dubbed a whole SWITCH, no nintendo. At first he’ll play the dominant role, but edge him long enough and you’ll bring the Great King to his knees, quivering, drooling, you name it. He’s shameless. 9.5/10 - half a point deducted for his inferiority/superiority complex. Get some therapy, babe. ♡’

They didn’t think much of it at the time, when it came to their attention whore of a captain, it wasn’t completely unexpected, especially if his groupies had anything to do with it. The players looked at one another, then back at the gaggle of hormones waiting for the brunette in question by the doors. It was unanimous.

“Yep.” “Uh-huh.”

The third player snorts. “‘bout time it sucked to be him for once.”

When Oikawa eventually exited the locker room, he did everything in his power to appear small, tip-toeing across the floor with his head down and shoulders hunched in crouching tiger-like fashion. He would’ve gotten away scott-free…if not for his petty teammates.

“See ya tomorrow, captain!”

It bounced off the gym walls, the setter grimacing as his devoted followers instantly looked in his direction, predatory gazes stunning him like a dear caught in headlights. Oikawa shot the players a nasty glare over his shoulder, flipping them off and continuing for the exit. He attempted to stiff-arm his way through the hoard, ducking and dodging their grabby hands and shutting down their…bolder advances.

“Tooru-chan!~ Let me show you what I’m capable of, I’ll have you begging in no time, just say the word!~”

“Unhinged men are so my type—Step on me, spit on me, call me names until I cry, I want it all!~”

“I bet it’s bubblegum pink, right? Does it curve to the left or right?”

Oikawa blanched. “Ladies, please, this is ridiculous! You all know I’m in a relationship with-”

“They don’t have to know.”

One had tried reaching out to touch him, but was quickly thwarted when the setter grabbed her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to get the message across—Too far. Everyone came to a hush at the sudden display, cowering slightly at the intensity that pooled in his eyes, dark and cold as he fixed the whole group with a stern expression. You were right (obviously). Things escalated the second they were given an inch, with complete disregard to his boundaries and what you meant to him.

These weren’t fans. Not real ones, at least.

Oikawa deeply exhaled through his nose, calming himself down to keep from saying something he’d regret. Releasing the girl’s wrist, the setter gently moved her out of his personal space, resadjusting his bag and sporting a rather disinterested expression.

“It appears you all have misunderstood your place. I’ll forgive that disgusting comment only once. But, if this obscene, rude, and down right shameful behavior continues, I’ll have no choice but to inform the coach of your harassment and have you banned from future practices and games. Do I make myself clear?”

When you arrived to pick up Oikawa per usual, you were surprised to see that he was already waiting for you, not a single group ie in sight.

Skeptical, you looked around as you approached him, thinking those buzzards were still in listening distance, just waiting to pounce. But, when all you’re welcomed with was a big hug and kiss, you relaxed. Oikawa pulled back and gave you a sheepish smile. He explained everything that had happened, rubbing his the back of his neck in embarrassment. When he finished, he looked down at you with those same puppy eyes he gave you the other day.

“Please don’t say I told you so?”

You cooed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair at his nape. He leaned into your touch, content. Until you said, “I told you so.”

He frowned. “You’re MEAN.”

Once IWAIZUMI learned it involved Oikawa in any way, that’s all he needed to know to have no interest in the list. Sort of like Sakusa, if the topic gets brought up, he finds himself tuning out. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into whatever mess his dumbass best friend got himself involved with. But, unfortunately for him, one doesn’t simply choose to be on the list…the list chooses you.

And one afternoon, the former ace was the unlucky winner.

‘Hajime Iwaizumi. 5’10ft hunk made of pure Husband Material. We’re talking the man who’ll open doors for you, pull out chairs, hold your bags without fuss, give you massages, cook you hearty meals, the whole nine yards. With that information in mind, you can’t tell me he’s not an absolute DOG in the bedroom. I’m talking about a man who’ll bully your insides, manhandle you and call you his “favorite cocksleave” or his “pretty little whore”. He’s the type to say the nastiest shit in your ear and tease you for the cute reactions you’d give him before shoving his tongue down your throat, while his dick kisses your appendix. Definitely a Hard Dom who only rewards good behavior, so if you plan to be a brat to this man—Good luck. But, as soon as he’s fucked that attitude outta you he’s back to being such a sweetheart! So so so attentive, so devoted, and will do anything for you. He’s God’s favorite. 1000000/10.’

“Oh? .. Hey, babe.” You said, curiously. Iwa grunted in response. “You know that list thingy Oikawa-?”

“Nope.” He easily answered, eyes focused ahead and he continued bench pressing the heavy bar.

You slap his chest. “You didn’t even let me finish!” He responded with a playful smirk, making you lightly slap him again.

Straddling his lap while he pumped iron was routine. It consisted of him doing what he does and you keeping him company, soaking up his presence until you inevitably left for your next lecture. Sometimes you kept count for him, other times you’d happily just be a distraction; today you did both.

“Haji,” you whined, wiggling a little. He ignored you on purpose, stubbornly refusing to indulge the topic. But that didn’t deter you from pestering him. “Ha-ji-me!”

“Ba-by-doll,” he echoed, grunting shortly after when he placed the heavy weight back on the rack, finished with the set. Panting, he sat up and readjusted you in his lap, hands resting on your thighs as he finally looked at you, amused at your scowl. “I don’t get why you’re so interested in that shitty list.”

“I’m not…until now.”

“Why?”

Turning your phone screen to show him the updated post, Iwa’s eyes scanned it before his brows furrowed in confusion, then tightened with irritation, jaw clenched and annoyance clear on his face. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to unsee it and merely laying back down on the bench. “Block them.”

You gaped. “What? No way!”

“It’s nothing but perverts with too much time on their hands,” he grunted, lifting up the bar and beginning his set. “It’ll rot your brain. Or what’s left of it, anyways.”

With a dramatic gasp, you retorted with, “Jerk. I’ll retweet and tell them you also love sucking on toes, how ‘bout that?”

Iwa paused mid-push. He eyed you from his laying position, voice dangerously low as he said, “Try it and I’ll bench press you next.”

“Hm.”

Through squinted eyes, MATTSUN briefly scanned the bright screen of Maki’s phone displaying the updated post that started circulating around their group for the past few minutes. Without much reaction, one would think he was too buzzed to be able to even comprehend it.

But he understood all too well.

‘Issei Matsukawa. 6’2ft lazy ass with a third leg. Doesn’t matter if he looks like he uses 5-and-1 body wash, he smells DELECTABLE. And don’t get me started on the gray, low-hanging joggers he usually wears around campus—He needs to be arrested walking around with a concealed weapon in those sweats—sir, put it in me AWAY. The literal embodiment of “If it slaps his thigh when he walk, I’ll listen when he talk.” The ultimate brat-tamer tbh. You can’t get under his skin, he’s so nonchalant and laid back, your attitude would just be foreplay for him (HIS FREAKY ASS). And if you think he’s already big on soft??? Bitch. Gon head and call outta work for tomorrow. 50/10.’

“Uh..congrats?” Kindaichi gave an awkward thumbs up.

Maki snickered, tongue in cheek. “Yeah, man, how’s it feel being ‘dick of the week’? They’re even givin’ it nicknames ‘nd shit.” He scrolled further into the depths of debauchery. Peering from over his shoulder to see for himself, Kunimi‘s face scrunched in mild disgust.

“Someone called it ‘The Door-Knocker’? Fucking cringe.”

“Fucking retweet.” The strawberry blonde hummed in approval. “Oo, I like this one—‘The Punisher’. That’s badass.”

Yahaba snickered only to then start choking on his drink, snatching Kyotani by the front of his shirt for support as he hacked for air. The wing-spiker merely glared, winding his hand back to beat the shit out of his back. “Ack! Kyo—fuc-! BRO STOP.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’re killing me!”

“Same thing,” he grunted.

Mattsun snorted, taking another swig of beer. After skimming through the thread, he lowly drawled out, “Cool, I guess. No big deal.”

He didn’t know much about the list, only that if you ended up on it you were pretty much an ace in the game of dick-slanging. But, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet telling him that he fucks. He had you to attest to all that, and your opinion was the only one that truly mattered. Not that either of you would kiss and tell.

His friends, on the other hand, felt otherwise. As far as they were concerned, Mattsun was a single man. And right now, he was shitting on a blessing sent from the gods. Maki halted his sip to eye his best friend, beer can lowering suspiciously. “No big deal?”

Mattsun shrugged. “t’s what I said.”

Yahaba finally caught his breath, chiming in with a winded, “Yeah right…you’re probably itching to check your DMs. Tell me ‘m wrong.”

“Ok. You’re wrong,” he replied, chugging the remainder of his beer can before crushing it. Yahaba went to argue, but Mattsun cut him off by speaking through a burp. “Don’t got the energy…to entertain someone who just wants my dick.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘Door-knocker’?” Kunimi teased.

“I thought it was ‘The Punisher’..?” Watari asked, uncertain.

“I saw ‘Horse Cock’ on there.” Kindaichi grimaced.

Mattsun shook his head. “Whatever. Point is, ‘m not interested in racking up my body count anytime soon, so those DMs will just go unanswered. Hell, maybe even deleted.”

“Bullshit,” Maki challenged. He points an accusing finger. “There’s another reason. It’s ‘cause you’re already screwing around with someone, aren’t ya?”

A silence fell upon the group, all eyes instantly honing in on the taller male with metaphorical ears raised high in scandalized curiosity, some (read: Kindaichi and Yahaba) more obvious about it than others. Mattsun merely gave a halfhearted shrug, neither denying nor confirming the information. “Aha! See, see, look at ‘em, dodging the question! He’s so cuffed.”

“No shot,” Yahaba deadpanned, “mister ‘Noncommittal’ himself?”

Mattsun glared. “Oi. I commit to stuff.”

“He’s gettin’ defensive.” Kunimi pointed out with a wry grin.

“Must be true, then.” Kyotani nodded, mischievous glint in his eye.

The others hummed in agreement, theorizing about his type in partners and how there could be a potential special someone in their senior’s life, while the bastard behind it all watched smugly on the couch, sipping his drink like a gossiping old biddy. Mattsun squinted in annoyance at his best friend. “Et tu, dumbass?”

Maki raised his hands, “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You basically told on yourself. No guy in their right mind would ever pass up on that many opportunities unless he’s A) Stupid, B) Aro/Ace, or C) Spoken for. Now, my vote’s between A and C, but feel free to update me on your sexual orientation.”

Mattsun flipped him off, sporting a sarcastic expression.

His phone then began to vibrate on the table. As quickly as they looked at the former middle blocker, everyone’s gaze shot toward the offending device, then back on him; expectantly. Despite his calm exterior the brunette felt his heart-rate spike, brow twitching at the childish looks and jeers he started getting, borderline peer-pressuring him to pick it up.

After a few seconds of continuous ringing, Kunimi huffed in mild annoyance for him to, “Answer it, already.”

Maki added fuel to fire by saying, “Unless you want one of us to answer for you-” Mattsun snatched the phone off the table.

With the grace of a gorilla, he stood from the couch and quickly shuffled to the corner of the room. Answering it, he cleared his throat, face flushing at the chorus of snickers coming from behind him as he greeted you with a simple, but elated, “Hey.”

“Hey, ‘sei!”

“Hey,” he said again, breathing out a small chuckle. “Can’t sleep?”

You responded with your own chuckle. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you’d wanna maybe…ride around with me? I’m thinking McDonald’s. Oo! Or that wing place by campus, y’know, the one with the teriyaki flavor you liked? I think they don’t close until, like, 2am. Or…was it 1am?”

Mattsun snorted at your rambles, leaning against the wall as he let you continue. Unbeknownst to him, the guys were practically stacked on top of each other, stretching their ears to hear your voice. From what they could pick up, you sounded so upbeat, animated as you spoke. They watched in awe as their senior barely spoke but was engaged in whatever you were saying, nodding along and humming to let you know he was still listening. If he wasn’t faced the other way, they were certain they’d see a smitten expression on his face.

“Mhm.. mhm. Yeah, ‘m sure that squirrel really appreciated you sharing your almonds, baby.”

“BABY???” The group exclaimed.

The brunette jumped slightly, completely forgetting where he was for a moment there. He briefly looked over his shoulder before turning back towards the wall with a groan—Every single one of those bastards were either grinning or gaping in shock. Mattsun cursed under his breath. You made a noise of confusion.

“Are you with the guys? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! We can totally chill another night if you-”

“Nah, was just about to leave. Think I’ve entertained these assholes long enough.” He grumbled, walking over to grab his jacket, but not before thumping Maki on the head; the latter hissed through his teeth in pain as he held the throbbing spot. “Rather be with you anyways. I’ll send the address, lemme know when you’re outside.”

“O-Oh, okay then!” You giggled, flattered. “I’ll see you soon. Love you!”

He turned back to look at the group, smug as they still watched him with disbelief painted on their faces as Mr. Non-committal was ditching them to hang with his commitment. Like he tried to tell them before, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet. He had you, and that’s more than enough.

“Love you too, [_____].” Then, he walks out. Leaving the room in even more chaos compared to when he first answered the phone, immediately on his ass as the scrambled after him for answers.

“[______]?????”

Who would’ve guessed their sweet, beloved volleyball manager from high school was the one getting visits from “The Punisher”.

Within his inner circle, MAKI is usually overlooked. He’s not popular like Oikawa, nor jacked like Iwa, and he’s doesn’t have the whole ‘sexy aloof’ vibe like Mattsun. He’s just…tall. And funny—The ‘Pete Davidson’ of the group. At least, that’s what your friends called him. Somehow, once again during your outing with them at the mall the topic of your relationship became the focal point of the conversation, stretching their brains for why you were so enamored with a guy like him.

“He gotta be packin’. Like, I’m talking anaconda.”

“Type shit. Y’know what they say about them tall and skinny ones.”

You rolled your eyes, wry smirk spreading across your face as you busied yourself sifting through a clothes rack. The conspiratorial discussion had been going on for the past ten minutes, throwing anything and everything at the wall until something stuck—Meaning, waiting for you to confirm. “[_____]. Be honest. It’s ‘cause of his dick, right?”

A lady standing on the other side of the rack gasped in shock, face twisting up in revulsion as she clutched her purse before stomping away, scandalized. You snorted, peeking over your shoulder to raise an eyebrow at them while they struggled to suppress their childish merriment at the poor woman’s embarrassment.

“Quit it before they kick us out.” You attempted to sound stern, but there was no hiding your own amusement. One friend playfully nudged you while the other began to snicker. “And no, it’s not because of that. It’s a bonus, though.”

The first gasped, then exclaimed, “So it is big!”

“’m not finna start with you,” you replied looking back at the clothes, pretending not to know them as nearby customers gave the side-eye. Neither one paid any mind as they continued to gossip. “We have this conversation every time we go out. Give it a rest.”

“Not until you tell us what you see in him.”

“I mean, I get it, but then I look at his friends and…” she hissed through her teeth, shaking her head. “I’m just saying. You fumbled.”

“I’m not taking that from someone who slept with a door dasher just because they got the restaurant to put extra sauce in your bag.”

The guilty party gaped, “It wasn’t included in their instructions, they were a real one for that!”

“Still don’t know why you did it,” the other friend sighed. “The food was cold, and I’m certain they took some of my fries.”

“Shut up, we’re not talking about my poor life choices, we’re talking about [_____]’s.”

“Fuck you,” you laughed. “You two need to get off my man. You haven’t even properly met him yet. He’s a sweetheart, he treats me like royalty, and I don’t care what y’all say, that man is fine.”

“Please. You’re just dickmatized.”

“Enough about his dick already!”

Your outburst drew the attention of a nearby employee; the store manager. Even though she wore a professional smile, you could see death in her eyes. With a nervous smile, you gave an apologetic wave before quickly grabbing your friends by their arms and escorting yourselves out before you got banned. Your closet was getting full, anyways.

“Look…I know the guys I’ve dated in the past were…questionable. But, I really like this one. And I swear the pictures I showed you don’t do him justice, his goofy ass just never sits still.”

They looked skeptical, having heard that one before. You huffed.

“Alright. How about I invite him over tonight? That way you have a chance to get to know him better. And if you’re still iffy, then…then you’ll have to get over it because you love me dearly and want me to be happy and just because you don’t think he’s attractive doesn’t mean I don’t, he is very gorgeous to me-!”

“[_____], honey, breathe.”

You stopped to inhale, then concluded with a small, “Please?”

They exchanged another look of skepticism, until the second added one condition. “He better not show up empty-handed.”

—

When the doorbell rang, the mood instantly shifted in the room, your friends going silent and gazes sharp as they looked at your door. Unbeknownst to all of you, on the other side of the door, Maki shivered, confused where that sudden chill came from. You gave them an eager, though strained, smile before scampering over to greet your awaiting guest. Upon opening the door, your smile slowly dropped at the sight of Maki sipping out of a large styrofoam cup with the words 'Big Gulp' written on it, dressed casually in sweats and a beanie, appearing very empty-handed.

After he swallowed, he gave a drawled, "Yo."

Your eye twitched. "Takehiro." He hummed, taking another sip of his drink. "Remember that important thing we discussed over the phone? Literally the only thing I asked you not to be when you got here?"

He thought about it, taking note of the daggers you were shooting at his cup. Maki made a noise of realization. "Oh, right. I bought snacks too, buuut I accidentally ate ‘em all on the way. My bad. But, look," he shook the cup, "technically still not empty-handed."

A small part of you wanted to be mad, frustrated at the least...but there was no hiding the giggle you rewarded him with, of which turned into more giggles. With sigh, you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his middle in a hug. "You’re so dumb."

"Missed you, too." He playfully rolled his eyes, returning the hug and craning his neck to kiss your forehead. The two of you stood there for a moment, just basking in each other's warmth. But, the moment was short-lived when he gave a long, exaggerated exhale through his nose before murmuring, "Ready?"

"...No." You groaned.

"Damn, do they bite or something?"

"No, they’re just...unfiltered. I love them, don't get me wrong, but they can work on your nerves to an olympic degree. You'll see once we get inside...They're gonna ask about your dick, by the way. Just ignore it."

Maki snorted, bewildered. "I'll try my best."

"Also...try not to mention that...other thing."

"What other thing?"

"You know," you raised your brows, looking over your shoulder in case they were eavesdropping before softly continuing, "that post."

It took a second, but he eventually caught on to what you meant.

‘Takehiro Hanamaki. 6’0ft shameless manslut (affectionately) who’s taken the campus by storm with his rather...interesting side hobby that pretty much has every student reaching for their wallets and switching to incognito mode on their browsers. Who would’ve guessed that lanky, low-eyed beanpole had the talent to film such erotic content and put a whole industry to shame with just his smartphone and a couple LED lights? After getting past the paywall and binging his videos (for research) it’s safe to say this man is very much a power bottom, maybe even a top depending on his mood, with a fowl mouth that’s not afraid to moan like a porn star. Best $200 I’ve ever spent (FOR RESEARCH). Highly recommend if you’re interested in having the best guided orgasm of your life—Link is in the thread! Get that bag, king. 10/10.’

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face instantly. He bounced his eyebrows, leaning down to teasingly say, "Ohh. That post. What? Don't want 'em to know how I make my living? Or, you scared they'll find out you're my number one supporter, always touching themselves just behind the camera-"

"Hiro!" You hissed, face set ablaze as you looked over your shoulder again, anxious. He found your reaction cute, using the straw in his cup to poke your cheek. You huffed at him. "I don't want them to pry. I doubt they've seen it since they go to a different uni, and I'd like to keep it that way. Okay?"

He easily shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

You exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” You turned to head back inside, knowing your friends were just itching to bombard Maki, however you were stopped when he grabbed your arm.

“But.”

“…But?”

“I’ll let the dick-related questions slide and keep my side hustle under wraps, but you have to do something for me in exchange for my good behavior.”

You tilted your head, nervous. “Like what?”

His grinned mischievously, eyes half-mast as he used his free hand to hold your jaw, making you gasp softly when he tilted your head back. “Instead of being behind the camera in my next video…my number one supporter has to be the star.”

You rapidly blinked, heat traveling throughout your body once you registered his words. Fumbling over your own, you didn’t have time to protest when the door behind you opens wide, revealing your impatient friends. Maki let go of your jaw and settled for wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he waved at them with the hand that still had the large cup in it.

“‘sup.” He flashed them a sly grin. Maki took in their shocked faces, hoping they were a good sign as he introduced himself. “[_____]’s told me a lot about you guys. Hope you didn’t mind me crashing your get together.”

They absolutely did not mind.

You weren’t lying—Those pictures you showed did him dirty. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the uno reverse that was Takehiro Hanamaki. From his lax posture and cozy demeanor, sleepers build and cute smile, it’s no wonder you were drawn to him. Plus he’s funny with a big dick (allegedly)?????

After you composed yourself, still reeling from your conversation earlier, you eventually mustered up a triumphant smile at your friends as they gaped up at Maki, speechless. “So? You guys still think I fumbled?”

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[takes1]

h a i k y u u collection(sfw + nsfw)

posted.

bratty tsukishima x manager!reader. enemies to lovers [part one] [part two] [part three] [part four] [final part. nsfw]

nishinoya x gn!reader childhood friends [part one] (all sfw)

w.i.p.

nishinoya x gn!reader childhood friends [part two] (sfw)

male!reader x asahi karaoke night (nsfw)

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**new to haikyuu as of may 2024, so please give feedback/ideas!

masterlist: link. (mostly mha)

[tonycries]

“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Synopsis. You know it’s wrong to fuck your best friend. But how can you complain when you’re slammed against the library desk and stuffed full of his big cock like this?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, panties in your mouth (+ some other very heinous things), really fucking dirty, public sex, jealous sex (from his side), pet names (my angel), swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. My ancestors are prolly so proud of me rn. Art by @_3em on X.

“Best friend” his ass. 

It’s laughable really - the way those other losers think they have a chance with you when you’re begging for his dick every night. 

He’s known you since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - and right now he’s got you sitting prettily on his lap in a study room tucked on the campus library. Your needy mewls are muffled into the crook of his neck as he holds you steady by your hips, the length of his achingly hard cock nudging the line of your ass. 

Panties hastily pulled to the side, your slick pools on his flushed tip, dripping along his length to his tight balls. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your racing pulse, he drags his hefty erection teasingly along your dripping folds. 

God, he could feel the way your pussy was clenching desperately around nothing and it was driving him insane. 

Surely that study buddy of yours could wait a few minutes. Who did that scrub even think he was? Eyeing his pretty lil’ best friend like that.

“Hngh- please, I want-.” you whisper into his ear, the heat of your breath sending blood rushing straight to his already rock-hard cock. Your needy whimpers are cut off as he subconsciously thrusts in-between your swollen folds, juices making the prominent veins along his length glisten.

Fuck, this was getting too much for him too. 

“Tell me what you want, my angel.” he leans down to murmur raspily in your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps down your spine. You were so fucking hot. 

That scrub couldn’t even imagine this. How perfect you were. How wet you were for him. How lustful your voice is as you sinfully whine, “I want your cock in me so badly. Want you to fuck me right here. Right now.”

With lightning speed, he’s got you bent against the cold surface of the library desk, painfully hard cock throbbing under the thin material of your panties. You gasp as his length grinds against your quivering cunt.

Having you splayed out so sinfully for him, he’s never been more thankful that the old librarian was such a heavy sleeper - probably wouldn’t wake up for a stampede of elephants if it happened. 

“This shit is getting in my fucking way.” he groans out as a large hand grabs your soaked panties. 

A sharp rip! of fabric sounds throughout the still air of the study room. “Much better.” he grins dangerously, harshly groping every inch of skin now laid completely bare for him.

“Please. Put it in.” you mewl, voice dripping with need for him. Fuck, he’ll never get used to this. 

“Shhh, my angel.” with a low hiss, he bullies his thick cock into your dripping cunt.

“God. S’tight, so tight. Pussy so desperate for me hah- sucking me back in. She doesn’t want me to leave, huh?” he grits out through strangled moans as he sheaths himself completely into your wet pussy. Shit, at this point they’ll hear him and not you.

Warm walls squeezing him to insanity, he fucks you at a feral pace, pulling out till his tip teases your dripping entrance, only to ram himself fully inside once more. 

“Ah! Hngh- It’s too much. Please!” 

He would never get to know the feeling of your snug cunt desperately sucking his cock back in every time he rams into you. He would never get to feel the way your walls clamp down on him, struggling to adjust to the burning stretch of his thick cock. He could never make you feel this good.

That loser probably has a small dick anyway.

He drinks in the pornographic ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each harsh thrust, feeling intoxicated off the animalistic cadence of his hips, and the thick white ring of slick forming at his base. 

“Shit. Always so good f’me, my angel.” he groans, your pretty moans only making him thrust impossibly deeper in a way that has you scrambling to hold onto the table for support. 

His throaty groans and the merciless slapping of his heavy balls against your ass echoes across the room as his fingers dig deep purple marks into your hips.

“S-someone’s gonna hah- hear-” 

“Then we must be quiet, hm?”

Before you have a chance to process what’s happening, the wet panties that were tightly gripped in his hand are now stuffed into your mouth. You moan around the large fingers forcing themselves inside, cold rings stretching your mouth as much as your cunt.

His cock twitches as he forces you to taste yourself, feeling you getting impossibly wetter. That’s his girl. 

He could never fuck you like this. 

Moans now muffled by the fabric in your mouth, his saliva-coated fingers move down to draw rough circles on your clit - making you yelp at the stimulation. 

He knows someone could walk in at any moment - and a part of him actually wants it to happen. Let them see, he thinks. At least then those fuckers would finally take a hint.

A soft whine of his name snaps him out of his pussy-drunk thoughts, blown-out eyes now meeting your dazed ones as you lock eyes with him over your shoulder. Lipstick smeared, tears clinging to your lashes, and panties half-hanging out of your kiss-bitten lips.

Ah, actually scratch that - he’s gonna keep his pretty lil’ best friend all to himself.

“Shhh, my angel. I’ve got you.” he towers over you, pressing a trail of kisses up the curve of your spine before angling your neck to attach his lips with yours. He delights in your surprised squeal, clearly not expecting him to kiss you with your panties still in your mouth. But for you, he’d do anything.

Cock twitching, your feet almost lift off the ground as the rhythm of his hips gets harsher. He intertwines his tongue with yours, sweet slick-soaked panties wrapped in the middle. Fuck, he was going insane at the contrast of your soft tongue with the lacy fabric of your panties, hand around your neck getting tighter.

You moan incoherently as he sucks on your tongue, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto the polished library desk. 

It was so fucking lewd. Doesn’t matter how many losers swarm around you - none of them deserved you. None of them could fuck you like this.

Your sounds of pleasure get more and more frantic as his cock still slams inside you relentlessly, ringed-fingers continuing their abuse on your clit - getting closer and closer to what you crave.

He can feel the way your walls flutter so snugly around him. God, he’s so fucking turned on that he doesn’t know whether the heartbeat he feels between his legs is his or yours.

Neither of you have to wait long. His tongue still continues its dance with yours, around your soaked panties, as you both cum with a muffled moan. 

Your pussy clenches around him as you climax him as if to milk his cock for all he’s worth. And you do, thick ropes of his hot cum painting your pulsing hole white. 

Riding out both your highs, he fucks his cum into you animalistically - feet lifting off the floor at his firm grip on your waist and the sheer power of his rough thrusts.

So messy. Damn, he has to send the librarian an apology gift later - a fruit basket or something, he wonders, barely lucidly. 

His mind is still foggy as he pulls his sensitive cock out, and pockets your panties for a lonely night without his dear best friend. Promptly plugging his fingers in your quivering pussy, cum smearing on his fingers, he mutters out a quick “Keep it inside.”

Walking out of the heavy, sex-filled atmosphere of the study room, he bumps into that fucking study buddy of yours - running late and clearly surprised to see him there.

With a slow smirk, “Sorry in advance, my girl made a bit of a mess in there. Hope you don’t mind.”

Hey, this is what best friends are for, right?

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, SUNA, Oikawa, Kuroo, EREN, Armin

A/N. Teehee *blushes like a slut*

Longfic Sunday incoming if I manage to write 6k words by tomorrow.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[aestosia]

ur fav + filming ..! >_<

“such a pretty pussy..” he mumbles, lowering the camera in attempts to get a good angle of your glistening hole. a soft moan escapes your lustful lips as he toys with your sensitive exposed bud.

“feels so good baby.” you whimper, heat building up in your stomach as he slowly stimulates your nether regions. “it’s so soft in here,” he says, sticking his long fingers in and out of your velvety walls. “have a feel.” he states, before you can even get a word out he guides your hand to your heat emitting core.

“try putting a finger in.” he instructs. you do so, letting out a low groan as you feel your fingers easily slide into your cunt. “feels good, right baby?” he asks in a husky low voice. he inches his hand between your legs, spreading your puffy lips apart. “it’s so fucking beautiful, wanna show you off..” he says seductively, showing the camera your exposed pussy.

“t’s embarrassing..” you cry, covering your blushing face with your hands. “why baby?” he questions, “it’s so pretty, i want everyone to know it’s all mine.” he announces, his possessive tone giving you an excited feeling in your stomach. “it’s so wet for me.” he states, proceeding to stimulate your clit again.

“i wanna put it in..” he says in a needy voice “you can, i want you so bad.” you moan. “god.. you really know how to turn me on.” he says, feeling his bulge strain against his pants. “wanna give you my full attention.” he says softly, throwing his phone onto the unmade bed.

“been waiting all day to have you..” he snarls aligning his freed cock to your entrance.

GOJO, geto, CHOSO, TOJI, ATSUMU, kageyama, ushijima, tsukishima, kenma

[pin-k-ink]

heat // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ mutual pining, strong sexual tension, making out, fingering, nipple play, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, teasing, squirting, unprotected sex

wc ⇢ 6.7k

a/n: not proofread

The arrivals terminal buzzed with a cacophony of greetings and farewells as travelers rushed about - wheeled suitcases clacking against the polished floors. You scanned the teeming crowds, pulse flickering with both excitement and trepidation.

After all these years, you were finally back in Tokyo. The city where you had grown up living across the street from Kenma - the two of you inseparable friends until high school graduation scattered you along diverging paths.

Though you tried keeping in touch through the occasional text and social media, the miles between you seemed to widen into an ever-growing chasm. Which made it all the more surprising when Kenma himself had reached out weeks ago extending an open invitation to stay over at his place during your upcoming visit.

"I have a pretty spacious setup now with my gaming and streaming work," he had typed nonchalantly. "You can crash at mine instead of some soulless hotel room."

Coming from anyone else, the offer could've been easily misconstrued as flirtatious or inappropriate. But this was Kenma - your childhood friend who hardly spoke more than was absolutely necessary, much less indulged in coy overtures. With him, you knew the pragmatic suggestion was precisely as straightforward as he had phrased it.

Still...spending who knew how many nights in close quarters threatened to stir up residual longings you thought had been neatly extricated years ago. You had seen the photographs and gaming celebrity articles documenting how Kenma seemed to fully bloom after high school, shedding his reticence in favor of a quiet magnetism entirely befitting his feline moniker.

Would being confronted with the all-too-appealing reality of Kenma's newly confident presence make you regress into a dumbstruck, overly flustered mess like you were as kids?

Lost in your whirling contemplations, you nearly missed the ping of an incoming text from Kenma:

"Made it through arrivals. Meet you outside?"

You startled slightly, clutching your carry-on bag as you pivoted towards the exit. Sure enough, there stood Kenma - posture slouched in that trademark listless slouch of his with hands stuffed into the pockets of a mustard yellow hoodie emblazoned with his gaming company's logo.

But beyond that superficially laidback veneer, his penetrating cat-like gaze missed nothing. Those keen amber eyes flickered over every detail of you in one sweeping glance - from your wind-tousled hair down to your ankle boots. A slight furrow creased Kenma's brow, mouth tugging into a barely perceptible frown as if dissatisfied by his visual assessment.

Before you could finish approaching him, he seemed to shake himself minutely from whatever critique had taken place. The corners of his lips quirking up into a lopsided shadow of his former boyish grin.

"Yo," Kenma greeted you with that same trademark laconic inflection even after all these years. "Long flight?"

You simply nodded, still struggling to find your footing and access the right combination of words to respond properly. Up close now, you found yourself momentarily stupefied by just how much Kenma had changed over the separation, yet somehow still manifestly embodied his innately intriguing core essence.

There was an indescribable charged electricity snapping between you two - bristling with poignant nostalgia and thrilling new tension. The corners of Kenma's slanted eyes crinkled fractionally, reflexively interpreting each one of your minute micro expressions with that eerie perceptiveness he always possessed.

"Well let's get you home and settled in, yeah?" he prompted at last when you failed to break the silence.

Nimble fingers feathered across your knuckles, sliding into your grasp before tugging you towards the exit with that same featherlight yet insistent guidance you had grown so accustomed to as kids. Knitting your brows in bemused consternation, you could only nod and allow his silent lead - the first of many unspoken exchanges that threatened to strip away all remaining defenses.

The ride back to Kenma's place was mostly quiet, each of you slipping into familiar contemplative lulls between stretches of idle chitchat and getting reacquainted. You stole sideways glances while stopped at traffic lights - drinking in all the intricate details of his profile in crystalline crisp focus.

The angular, almost severe slash of his jawline and slightly fuller pout to his lower lip. The high sweep of aristocratic cheekbones seamlessly blending into sculpted yet soft edges of his face. Even the prickling roost of silken blond roots already peeking through his two-toned tresses drew your lingering eye.

By the time Kenma smoothly navigated into the underground parking complex of his residential high-rise, you felt dazed and off-kilter as if emerging from the thick miasma of a dream. When had your oldest friend transformed into someone so inexplicably alluring yet unyielding to casual appreciation?

Kenma retrieved your solitary suitcase from the rear hatch, sweeping his hooded gaze over you consideringly through those longish fringe strands. There was a fleeting spark of mischievousness that reminded you so acutely of the Kenma from your childhood days - making your pulse kick up double-time.

"You ready to head in?" He cocked one eyebrow inscrutably. "I've got a feeling you could use a nap from all your...spacing out on the drive."

You flushed slightly at Kenma's acknowledgment of you essentially devouring him with your eyes during the entire commute. Clearing your throat, you mustered a nonchalant shrug.

"A power nap does sound amazingly good right about now," you admitted, falling into step beside him as you navigated the corridors towards the building's elevator bank.

Kenma hummed noncommittally, deft fingers already tapping out a lightning cadence against the side of your suitcase in a gesture unmistakably gaming-adjacent. The old compulsive tic brought a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

You stole a sidelong glance at your oldest friend, wondering what sorts of virtual adventures currently captivated the nimble-minded focus you recalled so vividly from long-winded gaming sessions in his bedroom as kids. So much had changed, yet that inherent core of what made Kenma so uniquely himself clearly persisted.

Once inside his impressively spacious flat, you immediately understood why he had offered to host you instead of booking a generic hotel. The entire open-concept living area seemed expressly appointed to revolve around an imposing, multi-monitor gaming rig complete with a professional-grade broadcasting setup.

Various cat-themed peripherals and an impressive library of neatly displayed physical and digital game collections cluttered nearly every flat surface. You caught your reflection in the smoked glass case enshrining a particularly eye-catching piece of merchandise - anaberrant juxtaposition of the cosmopolitan living space tailored around Kenma's unapologetic video game devotion.

A wry chuckle from behind you made you twist back to face him. The diminutive smile playing across his lips suggested he accurately interpreted your bemused expression.

"I see that look on most people whenever they visit for the first time," Kenma murmured in that rich, honeyed voice of his that you weren't remotely prepared for. "They expect my 'career' to be some sort of immature pipe dream rather than global brand."

You shook your head quickly at the veiled hint of reproach beneath that mild observation. "No, I just...it's exactly the kind of space I always envisioned you creating for yourself, to be honest," you replied sincerely. "I think it's incredible how you've genuinely established this whole lifestyle and identity for yourself completely on your own passions and terms."

Kenma regarded you with a glimmer of pleasant surprise flickering across his striking features before smoothing them back into that familiar half-lidded aloofness. Still, you caught the way his gaze sharpened infinitesimally.

"Well, since you're the only other person who truly grasps my 'lifestyle,' I'm sure I can count on you to make yourself at home." His tongue darted out to wet his lips - a minute gesture you found your focus utterly arrested by for some reason. "The guest suite is just through here."

Amber-gold eyes met yours unflinchingly, sparking with an unspoken invitation to comment. You swallowed thickly but forced yourself to nod, shuffling after Kenma as he turned and began leading you down a dimly lit hallway.

After stowing your luggage, he ushered you into a decadently appointed en suite - complete with a massive walk-in rainfall shower that sent your exhaustion-hazed thoughts careening into rather unbecoming territory. You swiftly refocused as Kenma leaned against the marble vanity, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"Go ahead and get settled however you need," he prompted with a vague gesture around the posh accommodations. "I'll probably be streaming for the next few hours, but you're welcome to hang out once you've recharged."

Inclining his head towards the threshold, Kenma paused just briefly - long enough for you to catch the indescribably weighted undercurrent flickering across his expression before he schooled his features. Then he pivoted, padding out in that signature laidback shuffle while you were left to stare dumbly at the patterns in the granite tile.

As the hot cascade of a shower finally began unwinding the knots of tension from travel, you couldn't ignore the steadily gathering storm of uncertainty swirling within. Part of you instinctively raised guards, preparing for the intense nostalgia and rekindled intimacy of reminiscing with Kenma to open up old wounds you thought had been neatly sutured years ago.

The other part, however - the shamelessly indulgent facet you struggled to repress - eagerly anticipated whatever unspoken electricity seemed to be steadily exerting its gravitational pull.

After luxuriating under the pulsing streams of the walk-in shower until the water ran tepid, you reluctantly toweled off and padded back into the guest suite. You were enveloped in one of the plushest terry cloth robes imaginable as you cinched it securely and paused to survey your temporary accommodations.

Sunlight slanted across the polished hardwood in warm bands, filtering through the gauzy curtains to cast everything in a gilded afternoon glow. Your gaze snagged on the embossed geometric patterns woven through the textured area rug - such an unexpected departure from the stark minimalist aesthetic you'd have imagined Kenma cultivating in his home.

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, you ran fingertips over the intricately carved patterns detailed in the wooden bedframe's footboard. So many thoughtful design touches married throughout the space that exuded a bespoke richness and warmth wholly juxtaposed against the more austere tech-centric common areas.

You couldn't resist trailing further across the plush duvet, indulging in the heavenly glide of high thread-count cotton against your calf. Seriously, how had Kenma assembled such an indulgent oasis within his gaming lair? The simple boyhood recollections you harbored cast everything in a new intriguing light.

Just as you had begun contemplating what else in Kenma's carefully curated world might challenge your established perception of him, a series of rhythmic knocks rapped against the guest suite's door.

"You decent?" His instantly recognizable dulcet tone preceded him by a beat before the door eased open a sliver.

"Of course, come in," you replied automatically, reflexively tugging the plush lapels together.

Kenma slipped through the narrow opening, clad in a long-sleeved shirt emblazoned with stylized cat motifs and a pair of formfitting joggers that embraced lean muscle definition you actively avoided ogling. Shoving his hands into the front pockets, he bobbed his head in an idle suite.

"Figured I'd come check and see if you managed to get some rest."

"More or less," you hedged with a lopsided smile. "Your shower was heavenly for working out some lingering flight stiffness at least."

A faint tinge of color brushed across Kenma's arched cheekbones at the innocuous mention of the shower. Had your imagination gone so utterly to seed that something as simple as—

"Cool, good. I'm all wrapped up with my gaming sessions for the day, if you want to..." he trailed off, adam's apple bobbing minutely before venturing a sidelong look through those burnished lashes. "Or we could just order something for dinner and...I don't know, hang?"

The weight of unspoken implication behind that seemingly casual invitation hit you like a visceral punch, momentarily robbing you of your voice. Instinct shouted to claim the offering, while deeply ingrained reservations around compromising a cherished lifelong friendship threatened to override any forward impulses.

After a protracted pause, you cleared your throat quietly. "Yeah, sounds great." Steadying yourself with a measured inhale, you lifted your chin as a slow smile unfurled across your lips. "I'm famished, so...what are you feeling?"

A muscle in Kenma's jaw ticked fleetingly, eyes glittering for just a moment before blinking back to their trademark heavy-lidded warmth. "I could go for some hot pot...lots of protein. Think you can handle the spice?"

The edges of his mouth curled into an undeniably flirtatious grin that sent your pulse skittering immediately into double-time. You felt the heat flooding your cheeks, but leaned into the pull of his focused magnetism rather than shrinking away.

"Oh, I can handle anything you wanna dish out," You tossed back, surprising yourself with the faint purr underlying your words.

Without looking away, you slowly rose to your feet - allowing the plush robe to slough off one shoulder with deliberately choreographed casualness. Kenma's breath audibly hitched, eyes darkening momentarily in appreciation before his lips parted on a low exhale.

"Is that right? I'll have to remember you said that." His voice dropped into a sin-tinged register that went straight to your core. "We have...all sorts of games to play later."

The unmistakable undercurrent behind his double entendre sent another rush of molten heat cascading through you. This time you responded with nothing but a subtle arch of one brow, staring him down in electrified silence as the air itself seemed to thicken and throb with heated tension.

Until finally Kenma ceded the moment with an almost pained hiss through his teeth before pivoting on his heel. "I'll get that order placed. You might want to slip into something...sturdier."

You suppressed the urge to openly gape at his rapidly retreating form, frozen in the wake of whatever had just viscerally transpired. Of one thing you were abruptly certain - these coming days would be more of a test of endurance than either of you seemed prepared for.

The spice Kenma alluded to was poised to burn you down to ash before you even had a chance to compute the inferno.

The pungent aroma of simmering broth and assorted proteins wafted through the apartment as you settled across from Kenma at the kitchen island. A dizzying array of small plates and dipping sauces had been meticulously arranged, as if this were some elaborate streaming event rather than a casual dinner.

"I may have gone a bit overboard," Kenma admitted, sweeping a hand over the impressive spread with an uncharacteristically sheepish tilt to his mouth. "Old habits and all that."

You couldn't resist letting out a low appreciative whistle. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flexing for your captive audience here."

Grabbing your chopsticks, you deftly plucked a perfectly seared slice of marbled wagyu from the central hot pot, purposefully locking eyes with Kenma as you brought the morsel to your lips. His gaze followed, rapt and laser-focused, as you slipped the tender beef past your parted lips with an involuntary moan of satisfaction.

"You have no idea..." he murmured, low and rough like gravel.

You paused mid-chew, certain your ears had to be playing tricks. But the heated intensity burning behind Kenma's stare left no ambiguity about the undercurrent thrumming between you. Recovering with a coquettish arch of one brow, you reached for one of the small dipping dishes - fingers brushing against the back of his wrist accidentally-on-purpose.

"No, I really don't," you murmured before deliberately dragging your tongue along the plump swell of your bottom lip to collect a stray smear of savory-sweet sauce. "Why don't you elaborate for me?"

A muscle ticked faintly along Kenma's chiseled jawline as his gaze followed the unconscious path of your tongue with rapt fixation. You watched his pupils slowly dilate, then narrow into frozen precision as his lips parted on a harsh exhalation.

For an endless stretch, the thickening silence seemed to yawn between you, weighted with the echo of your suggestive challenge. Unsure whether to double down or backpedal, you felt suspended in a crystalline stasis awaiting Kenma's response like it held the power to upend your world.

"Well, well...look who's developed a bold side in their old age," he finally rumbled in that sinfully textured timbre you weren't remotely prepared to withstand. His smirk sharpened fractionally as one elegant fingertip traced the rim of a small ceramic dish filled with delicately pink pickled ginger. "Trust me, I have plenty to...elaborate on, if you think you can keep up."

Your breath hitched faintly as he raised the dish to his mouth, sweeping his tongue with excruciating indolence across the glistening ginger to collect the tangy juices. He held your widening stare hostage as he hollowed his cheeks around the soft flesh suggestively before withdrawing with a quietly filthy sound.

"How's the heat treating you so far?" Kenma practically purred after a considering pause. "Because it's about to get much...much more intense."

You could only swallow thickly, wishing you could play the consummate picture of unruffled nonchalance like he did. Instead, you shifted unconsciously in your seat - tormented by an uncomfortable tightness in your jeans from the undeniable pull of Kenma's molten confidence.

For his part, the setter-turned-streamer simply watched you steadily over the rim of his beer glass as he sipped. Seemingly amused by your flustered state and secure in the knowledge he'd already seized the upper hand in whatever game stood to unfurl between you over the coming days.

Before either of you could press the heated boundaries further, a strident chirp echoed from the hallway - effectively shattering the thick tension with its jarring intrusion.

Kenma quirked one brow in irritation before rising smoothly to his feet, shooting you one last unreadable look from beneath his lashes as he stalked off to retrieve whatever device was clamoring for his attention.

Left alone, you huffed out a sharp exhale, remnants of desire still prickling across your heated skin like a brand. Muttering a soft curse under your breath, you steadied your racing pulse and turned your focus back towards the array of food with something adjacent to grim determination.

One way or another, you were going to wrestle back control of this game before it devolved into utter capitulation to the hypnotically smoldering aura Kenma had somehow mastered in your absence.

Little did you realize you had already resigned yourself to becoming the moth irresistibly fixated upon his flame...

The following week passed in a heated haze of building frustration and rapidly fraying restraint.

No matter how innocuous the interaction - lounging together on the sofa while Kenma orchestrated one of his streaming sessions, accompanying him on idyllic forays across Tokyo to revisit childhood haunts, even the mundane domesticity of sharing meals - an inescapable undercurrent of restless tension thrummed like a livewire between you.

Countless moments where your gazes would lock in a protracted stare; fingertips "accidentally" brushing along exposed skin and triggering full-body shockwaves resonating bone-deep. The perpetual push-and-pull of flirtation somehow elevating errant touches and otherwise innocuous exchanges into something hungering and profane.

Kenma no longer bothered to disguise the appreciative trail of his penetrating stare roving across your form whenever you bent or stretched. You quickly acclimated to the hot skim of his focus mapping every curve and dip overtly, pupils dilating with shamelessly burning desire he didn't seem inclined to sate.

For your part, you began unconsciously rising to match that unhurried confidence - boldly regarding Kenma's lithe, powerful physique with the same sensuous appreciation. Emboldened by how his throat would noticeably tighten every time your eyes dropped to linger across the vee of his collarbones, hips subtly canting forward whenever he sprawled in those fitted joggers that clung like a second skin.

Beyond the escalating physicality, you found yourself captivated by Kenma's rare loquaciousness about himself more than anything. Unburdened from your weighty history, he began opening up in quiet retrospective anecdotes about his passage into adulthood, steadily dismantling your preconceptions about his insular nature.

Like how he had secretly sponsored a children's e-sports program to guide underprivileged kids into careers in the burgeoning gaming industry. Or the surprising revelation that he regularly worked pro-bono with speech pathologists to design specialized voice controls for disability accessibility.

This was a side of Kenma's generosity and altruism towards the community fostering his career that you never could have envisioned. And with each newy facet, you found yourself plunging deeper under his unrelenting pull - utterly infatuated with who this remarkable man had become.

He simply chuckled, low and throaty, each time you gushed over some fresh depth unveiled. Absorbing your unrestrained awe and esteem with the same private relish as whenever you "inadvertently" provoked him into undisguised want. The heady combination only fanned the flames of simmering tension blazing between you.

It was on the eighth night sequestered together when Kenma decided to press the boundaries once more.

You were sprawled on the plush area rug before the oversized sectional, cycling through television menus in a vain attempt to pick something suitable to watch. A frustrated huff punched from your chest as you reached the end of yet another recommendations category that failed to inspire.

"Everything looks so mindless and forgettable nowadays," you mused, half to yourself. "What happened to real stories being told?"

A low chuckle resonated from behind you, vaguely Kenma-scented air puffing across the nape of your neck. You hadn't even registered his approach until his muscular form settled on the rug beside you with only a whisper of displaced fabric. The gold-green kaleidoscope of his eyes practically glowed with wicked mischief at your obvious failure.

"Well if you crave imaginative narratives so badly, maybe you'd fare better diving into a real fantasy scenario instead."

The rich velvet of Kenma's timbre immediately snapped every iota of your focus towards him. Your eyebrows lifted quizzically as he leaned in incrementally closer, fringe of silky hair feathering along your temple.

"What did you have in mind?"

Another low rumble ghosted your hairline as Kenma hummed almost inaudibly. "Let's just say...I have a distinctly illicit form of entertainment that may require your unbiased opinion."

Intrigue sparked low in your abdomen at the deliciously unspoken implications behind his words. Before you could fully decide whether or not to indulge his transparent flirtation, Kenma was already rising to his feet once more - extending one elegant hand down towards you in silent invitation.

Scarcely daring to breathe, you allowed him to pull you upright before following his lead towards the hallway. You pretended not to notice how his palm scorched the naked small of your back through the thin cotton tanktop as he ushered you across the darkened threshold into his inner sanctum.

A hushed, ambient glow bathed Kenma's bedroom in shades of moody twilight as you stepped over the threshold. Various pieces of gaming memorabilia and framed promotional artwork adorned the walls, creating an insulated atmosphere that existed in a world entirely unto itself.

Without preamble, Kenma crossed to the sleek desktop monitor setup, fingers already flying in a flurry of keystrokes and clicks as he booted up whatever "illicit entertainment" he had teased. You hovered uncertainly in the center of the space, casting furtive glances around the dimly lit sanctuary that emanated pure Kenma energy.

"Have a seat," he prompted without turning around - as if acutely aware of your momentary hesitation. "Get comfortable."

You cleared your throat but obeyed, carefully perching on the edge of Kenma's massivebed. The plush duvet conformed luxuriously to your weight, upholstered in some sort of sleek microfiber that reminded you of a cat's velveteen coat. Inexplicably, you found yourself burrowing your fingers through the decadent bedding's nap while studying Kenma's form in sidelong profile.

The muted blue-white glow from his monitors caressed the elegant contours of his face, shadowing the regal sweep of cheekbones and strong jawline in stark chiaroscuro. You marveled at just how much he had evolved from the reserved, rail-thin youth of your memories into the tantalizingly statuesque man before you now. One defined by an aura of languid intensity and assured command over whatever scenario unfolded around him.

As if he could sense the weight of your rapt scrutiny, Kenma angled towards you incrementally - chin dipping just enough to pin you momentarily with the full smolder of that heavy-lidded golden stare. His lush mouth curved into the barest ghost of a smirk, clearly relishing whatever discovery had your undivided attention so thoroughly enraptured.

"Second thoughts about seeing how the other half indulges their fantasies?" he murmured, pitching his already simmering timbre at a register that seemed scientifically engineered to inflame your senses.

An involuntary shiver rippled through you despite the heated flush creeping up your neck. Swallowing hard, you mirrored the slow, molten sweep of Kenma's eyes with one of your own - unabashed in drinking in each lean, corded muscle shifting beneath his fitted tee.

"Not a chance," you rasped, proud of how steady you managed to keep your voice despite the electrifying lash of his focus. "I'm the one who thrives on having my boundaries thoroughly...obliterated."

Kenma held your weighted stare for one suspended heartbeat longer before his tongue slipped out to wet his lower lip with unconscious sensuality. You mirrored the visceral action, entirely mesmerized by the naked want flickering across his strikingly beautiful features in that crystalline moment.

Then he seemed to resettle his composure like an unshakeable monolith, turning back towards the computer monitors as he clicked open some file directory. You subtly repositioned yourself more comfortably on the bed, back canting against the sturdy headboard while determinedly ignoring each tantalizing glimpse of scarlet duvet bunched around you in disheveled invitation.

A few more staccato keystrokes and suddenly one of the monitors flared to luminescent life - the unmistakable refrains of an overly saccharine J-pop opening sequence blaring through Kenma's speakers.

The game loaded on Kenma's monitor, intro music at odds with the charged atmosphere. You watched raptly as a buxom anime avatar appeared - her features and proportions eerily…familiar.

"Kenma..." You began, then trailed off, unsure if you wanted confirmation of what seemed obvious.

He didn't respond right away, deftly navigating the opening scenarios with deft keystrokes and clicks. Only when the digital woman began making coy, suggestive comments did you see him tense imperceptibly.

You studied the sharp lines of his profile, the slight parting of his lips as he deliberately avoided your questioning gaze. Finally, he exhaled - the sound low and fraught.

"I've had this commissioned mod for a while now," Kenma murmured, finally glancing your way with molten eyes. "From certain...unflattering angles, she captures some essence of you that's proven...distracting."

Your mouth went dry as you processed his oblique admission. Kenma had essentially crafted a digital embodiment of you to indulge his fantasies privately. The thought was overwhelmingly, incendiary.

"Show me," you heard yourself reply, proud of how steady your tone remained.

Kenma exhaled slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as the digital avatar paused mid-scenario. His eyes cut towards you, burning intensity simmering behind those heavy lids.

"This next interaction gets...decidedly more intimate," he murmured, a muscle ticking along his chiseled jaw. "Are you sure you want me to continue?"

You held his searing gaze, giving a small nod. Kenma's lips parted on a ragged exhale before he continued guiding the game. The simulated woman began uttering breathless endearments, describing in graphic detail the acts she longed for her partner to indulge. You felt heat prickling across your skin as Kenma's jaw went taut, his own arousal visibly kindling.

"Look at her, begging for it so shamelessly," he rasped, not looking at the screen. His smoldering eyes bored into you. "But she doesn't even begin to fully capture the reality of how intoxicating you are."

Your breath hitched at the undisguised yearning that threaded his deep velvet tone. Kenma's chest rose and fell rapidly, desire and restraint wrestling across his striking features.

"To have you panting my name..." He continued roughly. "Writhing against me as I finally make good on every heated fantasy..."

A low, guttural sound tumbled from his parted lips as he abruptly shoved back from the desk. In two strides, he towered over you - an inscrutable, blazing force looming above where you sat rooted to the bed. You could only gaze up, up at him, dizzy with spiraling need.

Then Kenma simply...moved.

One moment, you were shakily inhaling his earthy, spice-tinged scent. The next, the universe distilled to the scalding slide of his mouth possessively claiming yours. A guttural rumble reverberated from deep within his chest as you eagerly opened for the fervent sweep of his tongue.

Any last vestiges of restraint shattered irreparably.

You clung to the sinewy lines of Kenma's back as he walked you further up the bed without relinquishing his devouring kiss. Finally breaking just long enough to gaze upon you with eyes guttering like banked embers, before swooping down to map every exposed inch of feverish skin with a desperate, open-mouthed reverence.

Every scorching path of his tongue and teeth left you arching helplessly against him, hands clutching greedily at the powerful lines of his frame. The sensation of him, warm and solid and overwhelming, left your pulse careening into double-time.

Then one leanly muscled thigh slid between yours, applying the barest hint of pressure that threatened to shatter you. You moaned his name, hips instinctively canting against him in search of sweet relief.

Kenma merely growled - a predatory, primal sound - before seizing your wrists and pinning them above your head. His smoldering stare met yours, pupils dilated until his eyes resembled two obsidian pools ringed in liquid fire.

"I can feel just how badly you need this," he rasped, a note of disbelief threading through his tone. "How you're fucking dripping for me."

You gasped, shuddering as the blunt force of his thigh pressed harder against your aching core. Then his free hand dipped below the waistband of your jeans, sliding sinuously through the slick arousal pooling there.

Kenma hissed out a curse as his fingertips stroked feather-light patterns across your throbbing clit. Each touch sent white-hot sparks spiraling through you, a deliciously building pressure that left you whimpering incoherently.

"Fuck, I could play with your gorgeous cunt all night."

Kenma punctuated his darkly erotic admission with the sinuous slide of one long finger inside you. Your walls immediately clenched around him, back bowing with the delicious intrusion.

He released a low groan, adding a second finger to the first as your hips rocked against his hand. He held your gaze, molten and hungry as he pumped his fingers mercilessly in and out of your soaking heat.

"You're taking me so fucking beautifully," he purred, his free hand skimming the hem of your shirt up just enough toexpose the supple curve of your breasts. "So eager for every bit of pleasure I can give you."

Your nipples pebbled immediately, aching for his touch. Kenma leaned down, tongue flicking the straining peak of one sensitive nub before drawing it between his lips. You keened as the sensation arrowed directly to the molten pool of need building within.

Kenma hummed low in approval, the vibration rippling across your nipple and sending fresh shudders coursing through you. Then he was curling his fingers, stroking a spot so deliciously deep you saw stars.

Your entire world collapsed into the single point of Kenma's relentless thrusts, the maddening flick of his tongue and the torturous suction of his mouth against your breasts. Every nerve ending crackled and burned with the electric friction he stoked higher, higher, until—

A sob tore from your throat as you felt Kenma slide his fingers out of you. You were left trembling, utterly wrecked and bereft - a string of pleas and curses tumbling incoherently from your lips.

"Please, I-I was so close."

Kenma gazed down, lips swollen and reddened from his relentless kisses. "Don't worry, I'm nowhere near finished with you."

With that, he began unbuttoning your jeans, slowly easing the denim and dampened fabric of your panties down your trembling legs. Your entire body sang at the feeling of being utterly bare before him.

Then his eyes widened, a low sound like a snarl vibrating from his chest as he took in the sight of your slick, glistening cunt. You flushed at the unbridled hunger reflected there, the knowledge that it was because of him - his touch, his words, his body - that had you absolutely soaked.

Without preamble, Kenma was on his knees between your legs, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as his mouth descended. You cried out at the first hot swipe of his tongue, hands instinctively burying themselves in the silky softness of his hair.

Kenma groaned at the sensation, the sound resonating directly against your clit. His lips sealed around the swollen bundle of nerves, the faintest graze of his teeth sending fresh spasms of pleasure wracking through you.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think - every fiber of your being a raw, exposed livewire crackling under Kenma's unhurried attention. The languid drag of his tongue as it plunged into your aching depths, the obscene sounds as he sucked your clit. Every sensation was a blissful torment that had you bucking against his face, desperate for more.

Kenma seemed to relish in your uninhibited abandon. He tightened his hold, pulling you even closer against his ravenous mouth. A keening cry tore from your lips as his tongue fucked you mercilessly, lapping up every bit of your honeyed arousal.

You felt your walls begin to flutter, the molten pressure building with every swipe of Kenma's wicked tongue. Just as you were about to come undone, his mouth pulled away.

A broken whimper tumbled from your lips as he began kissing a slow, scorching path up the quivering plane of your stomach, across the dip between your breasts. All the while, his hands caressed the heated flesh of your inner thighs, teasing so close to the slick heat throbbing for him.

"Not yet," he rumbled, lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. "I need to feel your pretty cunt squeezing around my cock before you come."

He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt off, revealing a chiseled torso rippling with lean, powerful muscles. The sight sent a fresh surge of need pulsing through you.

Kenma reached for the waistband of his joggers, shoving the fabric down with agonizing indolence. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy and dripping. Your breath caught at the sight.

With a low groan, he palmed the rigid length, his thumb spreading the bead of precum at his swollen tip. He held your gaze as he stroked himself, lips parting on a ragged exhale.

"See what you do to me," he gritted, the corded muscles of his forearm flexing. "My beautiful, perfect girl."

The unadulterated reverence in his voice sent a surge of heat racing through you. Kenma's nostrils flared, a growl resonating deep in his chest.

"You're practically begging to have my cock stretching that tight cunt," he continued roughly, leaning down until the molten tip of his length grazed the seam of your soaking entrance. "I could take you right now."

A shudder coursed through you as his head nudged against your throbbing clit. Your hips arched instinctively, seeking the delicious friction. Kenma let out a low, pained sound.

"That's it, fuck yourself on me," he growled, eyes blazing with a possessive, predatory lust.

Your eyes rolled back, a moan spilling from your lips as his shaft dragged through your soaked folds. Every inch of your skin felt scorched, hypersensitive - the air itself charged with electricity.

Then Kenma was reaching down, lining the swollen tip of his length against your aching entrance. His hand gripped the back of your thighs, holding you open as he pressed forward.

You bit back a cry, back arching as his cock stretched you inch by delicious inch. Your walls fluttered and clenched, struggling to accommodate his girth. But Kenma kept going, a low stream of praise falling from his lips as his hands skimmed soothing patterns across your trembling thighs.

"That's it, I've got you. Such a good girl, taking every fucking inch."

A moan slipped from your lips as he bottomed out, the sensation of his thick cock filling you utterly overwhelming. His hips rocked slowly, allowing you to adjust.

You gripped the sheets, struggling to stay tethered to reality. The feeling of Kenma's length buried to the hilt, his hands gripping your thighs, his smoldering gaze pinning you. It was all too much, but still not enough.

"Please," you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.

Kenma's nostrils flared, the tendons of his throat flexing as he swallowed hard. Then he began thrusting, each stroke a searing slide of friction. The heels of his palms dug into your waist as he pinned you with his weight, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest.

Your moans filled the air, interspersed with the slick, filthy sounds of his cock pumping in and out of your aching cunt. You writhed, helpless beneath the delicious onslaught, his length stroking places that left you breathless.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Kenma rasped, his grip on your hips tightening. "And look how beautifully you take my cock."

A flush bloomed across your heated skin, a delicious ache building with every thrust. You whimpered as Kenma's thumb began circling your swollen clit, the added sensation driving you to the brink.

"I can feel how close you are," he rumbled, the molten intensity in his gaze unwavering. "Give me everything, sweet girl."

A shudder wracked through you, your walls fluttering as you teetered on the edge. Kenma's thumb moved faster, his thrusts picking up a punishing rhythm.

"Come for me."

Your vision blurred, ecstasy crashing over you in wave after wave of rapture. A cry tore from your lips, back arching as your pussy clenched and squirted around his thick length. Kenma let out a guttural groan, his strokes growing erratic as his own release approached.

You moaned, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock throbbing and swelling inside you. Kenma's head fell back, eyes closed as his thrusts became frenzied. His jaw clenched, a ragged groan escaping his parted lips as he finally came.

His length pulsed inside you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum. You shuddered, the sensation pushing you into a second, unexpected climax. Kenma growled, thrusting through both of your releases until you were utterly spent.

You lay there panting, struggling to catch your breath as Kenma's weight settled beside you. He reached out, trailing a fingertip down the slope of your cheek, the hollow of your throat. You shivered, still hypersensitive.

"Beautiful," he murmured, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.

A soft hum slipped from your mouth as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. You sighed, content to melt into the deliciously sated haze that permeated the aftermath.

Then, Kenma's voice sounded again, low and rumbling from deep within his chest:

"You should move in."

Your eyes flew open, breath hitching as the full import of his words hit you. Kenma's arms tightened, a subtle tension radiating across his powerful frame.

"I know it’s selfish, but I wasn’t planning on letting you leave if I’d worked up the courage to confess to you," he continued quietly, his breath warm against your neck. "You don't have to, but—"

"Yes."

The word slipped from your lips before you even had time to fully process the decision. But the moment it hung suspended in the charged silence, you knew the answer was inevitable.

"Yes?" Kenma echoed, something like wonder threading through his voice.

You twisted to meet his gaze, the faintest flicker of hope reflected there. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, a giddy warmth blossoming across your chest.

"Yes," you repeated, punctuating the word with a gentle kiss to his parted lips. "There's no way in hell I'm leaving you now."

Kenma hummed, a slow smile of his own curving his mouth as he pulled you even closer. You felt his lips brush the shell of your ear, his words a warm murmur of contentment:

"Good. Because you're not going anywhere."

[sluttsumu]

☆ — breeding you

“ohmyfuckingod” you whine.

it’s been hours of him relentlessly pounding you, flipping you from position to position. but you love it, and he does too. watching you love drunk on his cock with hearts in your pupils, it’s adorable.

it’s a cute sight really, your ankles next to his ears while your knees hover over the sheets.

“gonna fill you up,” thrust. “wanna be a mommy?” thrust. “have my babies?” thrust. it was painfully delicious, the way he kissed your cervix so desperate to come inside of you, listening to the way you chant his name over and over.

“want it—! please.” he loves to hear you beg for it, seeing your eyes fixated on his length pumping in and out of you. it’s not long before his moans stutter and thrusts dwindle and he’s spilling a thick load into your pretty pussy, breeding you to your fullest.

“always such a good girl for me.”

☆ — atsumu, bokuto, ichigo, renji, shidou, nagi, geto, choso

sluttsumu 2023

[nkogneatho]

𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍

—cw: fem!reader, edging, overstim, spitting.

Men who have their arms locked on your thighs, making sure your pussy is easily accessible to their tongue. they don't start right away, but gaze at it. your heat melting in juices, flowing and staining the sheet underneath. they breathe over it, to tease it even more and she flutters in need. warm air grazing the skin enough to make it squirm but not enough to chase that high.

To make it more wet, more messy, they gather the saliva in their mouth before spitting on it, watching the translucent drop trail down and fusing with your juices. A wide smile appears on their face when they realize the effect it has on you, making your face heat up and your thighs squirm in his arms. but they're locked up. he's got it locked up so he could enjoy this pretty movie without any intermissions.

When they finally decide to give you the sweet satisfaction of having their tongue lap on your pussy, it comes with a price. There's no way you could win in anything when it comes to them. It's either craving their touch, or begging them to stop from the overstimulation. They are mean. They don't stick to a single pace. Instead, they start out slow, savouring all your heat on their tongue, then get fast making you a moaning mess and you scream—beg for them to keep going. you're close. but they change it back to being slow, depriving your pussy of it's climax. you cry and cry and cry. but they're doing this for you because,

when they actually give you the satisfaction—after what it feels like hours—you are gripping his hair, pushing him further in your pussy and jerking your hips forward at the same time. fuck does it feel so good. you're crying, moaning and screaming their name at the same time in multiple repetitions that has their dick jump up and slap against their abs and spluttered cum on it. shit. am i ruining her or is she ruining me?