#tearing up honestly! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thevirtualvalentine · 5 months ago

Text

PRETTY FACE, BAD HABITS.

ft: Atsumu Miya, Tōru Oikawa, Tobio Kageyama, Shōyō Hinata, & Kei Tsukishima.

warnings: smut, afab!reader, daddy kink (atsumu), spanking, fingering, praise kink (oikawa), degradation, alcohol consumption (shōyō), cunnilings, enemies to lovers, small mentions of squirting, they’re lowk a lil filthy and obsessed MUNCH!shōyō bc definitely learned things in Brazil, coffee shop trope.

note: rereading hq, I am incredibly unwell and the volleyball pixels won’t leave me alone. Divider by @grlselle !!!

Thinking about gorgeous boys with pretty faces to the media who are so sadistic behind closed doors.

It goes without saying that setters are the notorious kings of this trope. Given that their charming faces tend to hide a fundamental need to be in control, constantly calling the shots n’ all. The facade cracks behind closed doors.

ATSUMU MIYA ... 4/10, not that shocking. He’s the face of MSBY, the golden boy. He’s got far more acceptable social skills than his other teammates: Shōyō, Kiyoomi, and Kōtarō, he knows how to handle himself in an interview. Flashing a toothy smile here, winking in a fan photo there. He has the hottest face in volleyball.

However, you had to have known about his silver tongue. It’s how he coaxes round after sadistic round out of you.

His stamina is much better than yours and to that he takes full advantage, being a pro-athlete has its perks. The downside is, his pretty face betrays the filth that spews from his maw when you fuck. “Yeah baby, think this messy pussy can give daddy another?”

He’s deplorable — that’s exactly why you keep crawling under him — the vileness you can only find there. “Y-yes, please ‘tsumu!” but woefully, it just isn’t enough for him, ever. He takes care of your trivial needs while chasing his own blissful completion.

“Ah ah baby, it’s daddy when I’m fuckin’ this cunt. Just hear how wet it is for me, fuck angel.” It’s humiliating, hot tears spilling past your lashes as his muscular thighs ram him impossibly further in you. You’re certain he’s in your cervix now.

“Shit — tight n’ creamy too,” he moans, “Feels so good on my cock.” He’s focused, a thin layer of sweat making his platinum blond hair stick to his forehead, eyebrows drawn together in concentration trying to feel everything you can offer him.

It drives you insane how he spoils you with unforgiving pleasure, never shy of showing just how bad he wants you. “Be daddy’s good girl and jus’ take it for me, yeah?”

And with a slap of your ass, he’s back to full speed, fucking you right up the mattress.

TŌRU OIKAWA … 8/10, a sleeping giant, don’t poke the bear. He was your summer fling, making you bubble with excitement and frenzy. His gorgeous face and native tongue were foreign to you but you recognized him from high-level volleyball matches on the news now and then.

Tōru was distinctly filled with passion, in everything he did you could feel it. He was a proud man through and through with a lust for victory.

That’s why he’s such a sadistic fuck, he’s too proud to stop even after he’s came inside you thrice. “Go on princess tell me, whose fingers can make you cum like this?” It’s those hands, those damn fingers you melt on every time he’s knuckled deep inside your sopping heat.

“Yours Tōru, only yours!” He’s peeled back every last restraint on your sanity with his body, reducing you to a tearful sticky mess pooling in his lap.

“I know mami, I know. You have to prove it to me though, show me how much you love it,” he muses rhetorically. His chin rests on your shoulder to get the best view of his practiced digits disappearing in and out of your tight sex; just how you like, just how you need. Those seasoned setter hands are a blessing.

“Ah! oh god — I’m, m’cumming— Tōru,” your chest heaves in his strong arms as he holds you there, letting you freely use and cream on his hands. He’s just so proud that he can make you feel good, so he’ll keep doing it. Over and over again.

“Look at you, my little slut. Just can’t help yourself from cumming all over me, hm?” The squelch of his three thick fingers and your slick coats his hand and your thighs alike.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA … 7/10, delving deeper, it makes sense. On the surface and to your friends and family, Tobio was your good boy. A perfect husband who was very successful in his career, and able to provide for you. People would remark on how starkly different your personalities were, the tabloids even going as far as questioning his feelings towards you.

But you know he loves you when he’s jackhammering your cunny like a rabbit. His brain only knows two things, volleyball and then all his other primal instincts. “Gonna fuck you till you’re sore, you hear me?”

He’s pushed your drooling face into the mattress to deepen your arch, greedy to feel more of your pussy suck him like candy. “You think I don’t see the way you watch me whore,” it’s like he’s punishing you with each grueling stroke of his thick cock inside you. “That’s exactly why you’re getting fucked like one. A dirty, cock-hungry, whore.”

That polite well-mannered man, a simple facade for something more sinister. They mistake his introversion for shyness when in reality he’s most likely self-censoring. He’s not much of a people person and lives a secluded life.

But all throughout his private practice today you plagued him with this singular thought: Kageyama craves it to no end, your utter and total obedience to him. He’s used to controlling his spikers, but you? You bring out an entirely new sadistic side of him. His one track mind learning every inch of your body fast.

“Stop! it’s t’much,” you cry into the sheets, overwhelmed by his sheer power. It feels like he’s deep in your guts with every strong piston of his hips against your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your ears making your brain fuzzy.

“Maybe you should think about that next time you try and tease me,” he knows you want it exactly like this. You rile him up to get a rise out of him, pushing him to his limits and beyond. Exactly how he likes it.

He snakes a hand in between your warm connected bodies, pressing his palm over the outline of himself nestled in your tummy. “Remember how my dick feels inside you right now,” and he smirks feeling you tighten up around him.

You’re so incredibly plaint to a guy like him. His perfectly tuned toy.

With middle blockers, it’s different. They just want to watch you submit. Whether they’re reading the court, blocking, or killing the ball; it gives them an indistinguishable thrill to bring something to its knees deliberately.

SHŌYŌ HINATA … 11/10, virtually undetectable thus making him the most dangerous. When you met him, you found him to be a bit too big for his britches. He was such a sweet guy nonetheless, buying your drinks and slotting a friendly arm around your waist that night.

It felt good to have his attention, those dark brown eyes analyzing your every jiggle and jive. For some reason that night no one else seemed to approach you, perhaps it was due to the fact that #21 of Asas São Paulo had his eye on you.

“Do you wanna come home with me,” you ask him smooth as silk, carding your nails in his short ginger locks. He purs in response, groaning at the sensation and grinding himself against the thin cloth of your club dress.

He’s deceptive, but it’s not on purpose. “Please mami.” He just needs you to know how badly he wants you. Do you not realize he’s everything you need? No matter, he’ll show you.

“Mhhhm, more Shō,” you breathe life into his name like it’s a prayer, supple thighs caging his face to keep him planted there between them. It’s not like he’s going anywhere though, lips suckling on your sweetness as he lifts your ass off the bed to get a better taste.

His mouth does things you didn’t know it could do, massaging your pillowy folds before diving tongue first into your wet slit. It was making you feel hot watching him as he watched you, intent on making you buck against him for more.

He welcomes it, grinding his raging boner into the mattress and groaning into your pussy. “So fucking sexy when you do that baby, drives me crazy,” he says through kisses with your swollen clit.

That same sweet guy is nowhere to be found as there's an insatiable monster between your legs that you willingly invited into your home. “Keep goin’ love, wanna make this sweet pussy squirt.” You’re his, hook line, and sinker.

ps: don’t worry, after this, he’ll go three more rounds with just his cock alone and you better be able to handle it.

KEI TSUKISHIMA … 9/10, only triggered if you can get him to open his big mouth. He was a quiet man. Stoic as he sat in the same chair, in the same corner, at the same café, every day at exactly 6 am.

He may have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Well dressed with fair skin, golden eyes, and blond hair that made him stand out amongst the other patrons. Not to mention the fact he was ginormous, making the cafe chairs almost look like stools as he quietly checked his email. From over your shoulder, you watch him adjust his glasses, opting to look from afar but not touch.

It seems he doesn’t give you the chance though, approaching you as your heart beats loudly in your chest. He’s even more gorgeous as he grows close. His skin smooth like marble matches the stiffness of his face. “You seem to have a staring problem.”

At first, Kei thought you might have been a Frogs fan. That's the only possible excuse he could muster. Then he began to notice the lingering stares as well.

Excuse me— Did you just hear him correctly? You certainly didn’t mean him any harm, if anything it was a compliment. “And you seem to have an attitude problem, doesn’t seem like much can help that though. Goodbye,” you practically scoff before returning to your book and good coffee. What an arrogant fucking jerk.

Before he leaves, he drops a small piece of paper next to your cup. “Have a nice day, miss stalker,” you huff under your breath unfolding the small slip. ‘Maybe you can fix me. xxx-xxx-xxxx'

Since then, the only thing you two seem to do is argue. Especially when he’s stuffed eight inches deep in you from behind, “giving me so much attitude when you just needed a good fuck.” Him and that big fucking mouth, he must love hearing himself talk.

“if you wanted to get fucked like a slut then you could have just said so, brat.” He sneers, spanking you with considerable force behind his meaty palm. You’re Keis’ good girl, of course you can take it. He's trained you to do so.

“Sh-shut up and just fuck me Kei,” he loves when you talk to him like that, using his name like you own it. You’re wrapped around his finger as he bullies his girth into you.

“How can I when this greedy cunt’s not letting me go?” He’s right, within these four walls you’re his as you clench around him even tighter. “You can’t even fit all this,” he’s just inexplicably sexy, condescending yet so giving as he angles himself forward into the plush of your ass.

Pleasing you is an art to him, a deliberate one that he studies to get the best results. It’s brutal how fat his dick is, it matches his brash personality. “Go on, cum.” He says with sheer confidence.

Seconds later you’re unraveling before him as if it was pre-meditated. Like he instinctively knew when it was going to occur, permitting you before the act.

3K notes · View notes

bixels · 6 months ago

Note

I just saw one of your fave games is What remains of Edith Finch and I’m so happy! I feel like its a lesser known game but i loved playing through it. I’m so happy to know more than just my small friend group know about this game!

Sorry this isn’t a question. Also want to say that you’re art is amazing and the development of the designs is so interesting to see. Also the way you draw intimate scenes have so much emotion to them. I love the Aj and rarity kissing comic so much, you can just feel their love for each other ;w;

Thank you so much!

I highly, highly, highly recommend What Remains of Edith Finch to anyone interested in narrative game experiences/"walking simulators." It's one of those games that was handcrafted with nothing but love. Every room you explore is just... real. The way the light flows in and makes the colors of the living room, the kitchen, the bedrooms glow. Playing the game is like walking through your childhood home as an adult and seeing how the dust clings to everything you once touched. Also genius-level gameplay mechanics, ones that can make you completely empathetic with the character you're embodying or feel completely complacent in their tragedy. It's really not fair to call it a walking simulator because it's so much more and so much smarter than that.Everyone talks about the fish one.

The theme of death and memory and storytelling and the burden of invisible trauma and self-fulfilling prophecies is so affecting too. The ending made me cry.

#detective-marshmallow #ask me #using this ask to seriously plug edith finch #and to talk about spoilers here #major major major spoilers #because i still think about walter. who saw something so awful and traumatic as a kid that he spend the next 40 years living right under hi #family. and everyone forgot about him #i think about the house. literally aching and creaking with the family's history of strange deaths #i think about sam. who had to grow up in an empty bedroom he once shared with his twin brother. and stare at the partitioned-off side #every single day #i think about edith. who knows she will have a child and knows she will die and continue the family curse but decides to live anyways #god edith didn't even make it to adulthood.#this game tears me up from the inside yet it's so full of love and fantasy and hope #it was honestly really helpful for my death anxiety.#don't fear death. one day you'll go. people will mourn. and then they'll tell stories about you.

536 notes · View notes