matsukawa likes an audience, you like being listened to, and iwaizumi really should have hung up. (or— matsukawa answers the phone mid-shift at the pussy eating factory. iwaizumi stays on the line.)
MATSUKAWA ISSEI X FEM!READER ft. IWAIZUMI HAJIME | timeskip, friends with benefits (mattsun and reader use each purely for their bodies), smut, exhibitionism/voyeurism, phone sex, dubious consent in the beginning, third party listening, oral sex f receiving, fingering, vaginal sex, dirty talk, size kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, implied masturbation
word count: 3.7k
hi from marcel: my demons. MY DEMONS. @swordsteel picked iwa so he is here...... title from an mcr lyric (can you guess which ill give you a kiss)
it starts stupidly, like most good things do.
because everything with matsukawa issei starts stupidly.
he is between your thighs, hair mussed from your hands, mouth warm and lazy against you like he’s got nowhere else to be for the rest of his life. which is a lie. he had somewhere to be. he had told the boys he might meet up later, maybe, if he “felt like being social.”
you had known exactly what that meant.
so did he.
so did makki, probably, given the string of texts sitting unread on his lock screen.
you’re already half-melted into the mattress, one knee hooked over his shoulder, fingers twisted in the sheets because issei is being unfair about it. not rushed. not even particularly mean yet. just focused in that loose, maddening way he has, like he’s barely trying and still knows exactly how to make your spine turn to warm water.
his phone starts buzzing on the bed.
you glance over.
iwaizumi.
your stomach flips before issei even lifts his head.
he feels it.
of course he feels it.
his eyes flick up to yours from between your thighs, dark and amused.
“no,” you whisper, already smiling because you are a liar and a freak.
his mouth curves.
the phone keeps buzzing.
issei wipes his thumb slowly over the inside of your thigh, watching your face like he’s waiting for the part where you tell him not to.
you don’t.
so he reaches for his phone.
“issei,” you hiss, but there’s no heat in it. no real warning.
he answers with his mouth still shiny.
“yo.”
you slap both hands over your face.
because unlike makki, iwaizumi doesn’t immediately start laughing.
there’s just... a pause.
then hajime’s voice, low and normal and totally unaware of the crime scene he has stepped into. “you busy?”
issei looks directly at you.
you shake your head at him in horror and delight.
he licks his lips.
“little bit.”
“then why’d you answer?”
“’cause you called. i’m polite, iwa.”
“you sound weird.”
issei hums, and his thumb slides back over you, slow enough to make your legs tense.
you bite down on your knuckle.
“do i?”
another pause.
oh, hajime knows now.
you can hear the exact second he knows. the silence changes shape. gets heavier. more aware.
“... matsukawa.”
“yeah?”
“are you fucking around right now?”
issei’s smile is lazy and lethal.
“technically, my mouth’s occupied.”
you make the worst sound into your hand.
hajime goes dead silent.
not scandalised loud like oikawa. not delighted loud like makki.
silent.
issei’s brows lift like he’s fascinated.
then, with the calm of a man setting down a drink, he taps speaker and lays the phone flat on your stomach.
the cool edge of it makes you twitch.
you choke on a laugh, which turns into a gasp when he slides two fingers back into you, slow and deliberate.
“oh my god,” you breathe.
the phone is right there. resting on your stomach, speaker up, close enough that every little broken sound you make has nowhere to hide.
issei looks too pleased with himself.
“iwa,” he says casually, as if he is not knuckle-deep and watching your hips start to lift. “you still there?”
no answer.
issei’s fingers curl.
your back arches.
“hajime,” issei sings, awful and soft. “don’t be rude.”
“i’m here,” iwaizumi says, voice tight.
there it is.
not hanging up. not telling him to stop. not even pretending hard enough to hate this.
issei’s grin goes slow.
“yeah?” he murmurs. “you wanna be?”
the silence after that is fucking insane.
you stare at issei, wide-eyed, breath catching in little pieces as he keeps touching you. he’s not even going down on you anymore. he’s just watching. sitting between your legs with his cheek against your thigh, fingers moving steadily, gaze flicking between your face and the phone on your stomach like this is some kind of casual group activity.
“i asked you something,” issei says.
hajime exhales through his nose.
“... if she’s okay with it.”
your whole body tenses.
issei’s fingers pause.
not stop, exactly. just slow.
his eyes come to yours, humour gone thin for half a second. the real question underneath it.
you nod.
he waits.
“yeah,” you whisper. “i’m okay with it.”
issei’s smile comes back, softer first.
then worse.
“you hear that?”
“i heard,” hajime says.
his voice sounds different now. lower. rougher around the edges.
god help you.
issei kisses the inside of your knee. “good. then stay quiet if you’re gonna be shy about it.”
“fuck off,” hajime says, but it has no bite.
“mm. that isn’t very nice, hajime.”
you laugh, breathless, and issei rewards it by dragging his fingers just right.
your laugh snaps into a moan.
hajime makes a sound.
tiny. barely there.
but it is a sound.
issei hears it.
of course he does.
“oh?” he says.
“don’t.”
“didn’t say anything.”
“you were about to.”
“i was just thinking.”
“do that privately.”
issei’s fingers slow, and you whine before you can stop yourself.
he looks down at you with mock pity.
“see what you did? distracted me.”
“issei,” you complain.
“yeah, baby?”
he says it so casually. so warm. like he isn’t turning you into a trembling mess with his best friend listening.
“don’t stop.”
iwaizumi’s breath catches audibly.
issei’s eyes darken.
“bossy.”
“you’re being annoying.”
“i’m being generous.” his gaze flicks to the phone. “aren’t i, iwa?”
hajime says nothing.
issei laughs quietly.
“still there?”
“yeah.”
“quiet.”
“yeah.”
“you jerking off, boy scout?”
the silence is immediate and catastrophic.
your eyes go huge.
“issei.”
“what?” he asks, innocent as a knife. “it’s a question.”
hajime’s voice comes back strangled. “you’re a fucking asshole.”
“that wasn’t a no.”
“jesus christ.”
“that wasn’t either.”
you are going to die.
you are actually going to die in this bed because matsukawa issei cannot behave for five consecutive minutes and iwaizumi hajime apparently has a closet pervert streak big enough to qualify as a second apartment.
issei leans down and kisses you, right above where his fingers are still moving.
soft. terrible.
then he speaks, not to you this time.
“she’s so wet,” he says, conversationally. “you should feel this.”
your face burns so hot you think you might pass out.
hajime swears under his breath.
issei watches your reaction like he loves it.
“she likes when i talk about her,” he continues, still lazy, still cruelly calm. “acts embarrassed, but she gets tighter every time.”
you shake your head.
his fingers curl again.
your hips jerk.
“liar,” he murmurs to you.
“i hate you.”
“no, you don’t.”
“i might.”
“you’d miss me.”
“i’d miss your dick.”
“same thing.”
hajime makes another sound then, partly a laugh, half a curse. like he can’t believe he is hearing this. like he cannot believe he is not hanging up.
issei’s smile sharpens.
“there you go,” he says. “knew you were alive.”
“shut up.”
“nah. iwa, she’s trying so hard not to make noise.”
“don’t drag me into it.”
“you’re on speaker on her stomach. you dragged yourself in.”
“that was you.”
“you could hang up.”
nothing.
issei hums.
“thought so.”
then he lowers his mouth back to you.
and if the fingering was bad, this is worse.
because now he is showing off.
not in a clumsy way. not obvious and exaggerated. issei is too smooth for that, too confident in the exact way that makes him irritating. he just settles back between your thighs and eats you out like he knows hajime is listening to every wet sound, every shaky breath, every broken little syllable of his name you fail to swallow.
your hand flies into his hair.
the phone shifts on your stomach as you arch.
“careful,” issei murmurs against you, and the vibration makes your legs tremble. “don’t drop him.”
“i’m going to kill you,” you gasp.
“after?”
“maybe.”
he laughs into you.
hajime says nothing.
but he is breathing.
that’s the thing that gets you. the quiet on the other end isn’t empty anymore. it’s full of him. tense and controlled and too present. you can imagine him sitting somewhere with his jaw clenched, phone in one hand, the other maybe—
you whimper.
issei’s eyes flick up.
“oh, what was that?”
“shut up.”
“you thinking about him?”
you try to close your thighs, which is a mistake because his shoulders are there and he just spreads you open again.
“don’t hide now.”
“issei.”
“answer.”
your pulse is in your throat. “maybe.”
hajime curses.
issei grins against you.
“cute.”
then he stops talking and gets serious.
which is how you know you’re fucked.
he knows exactly how to pull you apart when he wants to. knows when to tease and when to shut up, when to give you pressure, when to back off just enough that your body chases him. his hands lock around your thighs, his mouth gets precise, and everything narrows down to heat and breath and the weight of the phone rising and falling with your stomach.
you come with hajime listening.
it’s not graceful.
it never is with issei when he’s showing off.
your back arches, one hand in his hair, the other clutching at the sheets, and the sound that leaves you is loud enough that you hear hajime inhale sharply through the speaker. issei doesn’t let up until you’re squirming, thighs trembling against his cheeks, voice breaking around a too-much little sob.
then he lifts his head.
slowly.
mouth wet.
eyes dark.
“good?” he asks.
you nod weakly.
“words.”
“i’m good.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
he pats your thigh once.
“great.”
then he grabs your hips and yanks you down the bed.
you squeal.
actually squeal.
because you’re overstimulated and boneless and he moves you like you weigh nothing, dragging you to the edge so suddenly that the phone nearly slides off your stomach. you catch it with one clumsy hand, laughing breathlessly even while your whole body is still shaking.
on speaker, hajime makes the craziest fucking sound.
not a full moan.
not a word.
just this punched-out, involuntary thing that tells on him so badly the room goes still for half a second.
issei freezes.
then looks at the phone.
then at you.
his smile becomes a war crime.
“iwa.”
“don’t.”
“that was cute.”
“don’t.”
“you liked that?”
“fuck you.”
“i’ll pencil you in.”
you laugh again, helpless, and hajime sounds like he might be suffering psychic damage.
issei stands at the end of the bed.
and yeah.
yeah, you forget how to speak for a second.
because he is tall. tall in that loose, lanky way that hides the sheer size of him until he is standing over you with your hips in his hands and his hair falling into his eyes. he drags you to the very edge, lifts your ass like it’s nothing, adjusts you until your legs are hooked just right.
the angle alone makes your stomach flip.
then he lays his cock over your lower stomach.
just rests there.
heavy and hard and obscene against your skin.
you stare down.
he does too.
“issei,” you breathe.
“i know.”
he loves this.
loves seeing it. loves the visual of how deep he’ll reach, how far up your body he can mark the promise of it before he even gets inside. it makes him smug in the worst way, quiet and satisfied and absolutely aware of what it does to you.
his thumb strokes your hip.
“look at that,” he murmurs.
hajime is dead silent.
issei tilts his head toward the phone.
“wish you were looking, iwa?”
“don’t be mean,” you manage.
“shame. i’m so good at it.”
hajime’s voice is rough when he says, “you’re evil.”
“little bit.”
“more than a little.”
“you’re still here.”
another pause.
then hajime says, very low, “yeah.”
oh.
oh, that gets everyone.
even issei’s expression flickers for a second, amusement giving way to something hotter. he looks down at you, brows raised like, you hearing this?
you nod, dazed.
“yeah,” issei says softly. “he is.”
then he slides into you.
you lose your breath.
fully.
it’s so deep at that angle that your hands fly to his wrists, nails digging in as he holds you up to meet him. your mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. just a stunned little gasp that cracks at the edges when he bottoms out.
issei’s jaw tightens.
“fuck.”
hajime mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch.
issei catches it.
“what was that?”
“nothing.”
“liar.”
“keep going.”
the words are clipped. controlled. almost angry.
they make you clench so hard issei groans.
“oh, she liked that.”
“stop narrating everything,” hajime says.
“no.”
then he starts moving.
slow at first, because the angle is insane and because you are still sensitive from his mouth. deep, measured thrusts that push the air out of you every time, his hands firm under your ass, lifting you to meet him like he’s using your body exactly how he wants and making sure it ruins you properly.
the phone is still on you, slid down now to stick to the sweaty skin just below your tits.
you can feel the vibration of hajime’s breathing through the case.
it is obscene.
it is ridiculous.
it is so hot you almost can’t stand it.
issei talks through everything.
of course he does.
he tells you how good you feel, how tight, how pretty you look trying to take him like this. tells hajime how your face changes when he gets deep enough. how your thighs shake. how you get louder when you forget to be embarrassed.
and hajime just listens.
quiet.
too quiet.
until issei pushes.
“say something, iwa.”
“no.”
“why not?”
“because you’re already insufferable.”
“she wants to hear you.”
your eyes fly to his.
issei grins.
“you do.”
“i—”
he thrusts deep, and your words scatter.
“see?”
hajime’s voice is rough. “she okay?”
the question punches right through all the heat.
because it’s hajime, of course it is. repressed pervert or not, he still sounds like himself. grounded. careful. checking, even with his voice strained.
you swallow, breathless.
“yeah. i’m okay.”
“you sure?”
“yeah.”
issei’s expression softens for the smallest second.
then he ruins it by saying, “hear that? she’s okay. you can keep jerking off now, boy scout.”
“mattsun,” hajime snaps.
you make a sound that is half laugh, half moan.
issei’s grin comes back full force.
“there we go.”
“you’re going to hell.”
“probably. wanna come with?”
“not answering that.”
you are absolutely dissolving.
every thrust punches up into that deep, impossible place that makes your legs go useless. issei’s hands hold you steady, thumbs digging into the soft of your hips. your head tips back against the mattress, one hand fisted in the sheet, the other pressed weakly over the phone like you can somehow hide the sounds and keep hajime close at the same time.
issei notices.
“don’t cover him.”
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
“you’re annoying.”
“you love it.”
“you’re too deep.”
his hips slow immediately.
“too deep bad?”
you shake your head fast.
“no. good. just— fuck!”
“more words.”
“good,” you gasp. “it’s good.”
“yeah?” his voice goes warm and filthy. “you want more?”
you nod.
“say it.”
“more.”
hajime exhales sharply.
issei’s eyes glitter.
“oh, he liked that one.”
“i hate both of you,” you breathe.
“liar.”
then he gives you more.
not faster. deeper. meaner in that careful way that has your body going loose and desperate beneath him. the whole bed shifts with it, rhythm steady, your ass lifted in his hands, his cock hitting so deep that your vision goes blurry.
and then he says it.because he knows exactly when to.
“wanna come for iwa?”
you whine.
“yeah?” he asks, voice low. “wanna come while he jerks off to the sound of you getting fucked like this?”
hajime makes a strangled noise.
“issei.”
“what?”
“you’re— fuck.”
issei laughs, breathless and dark. you nod before you can think better of it.
issei’s gaze snaps back to you.
“please,” you whisper.
his hands tighten.
“please what?”
“make me come.”
“who for?”
you are gone. truly gone. no dignity. no shame. just heat and pressure and hajime’s breathing through the speaker.
“for haji.”
the silence after that is violent.
then hajime groans. low. wrecked. utterly ruined.
issei’s composure almost cracks.
almost.
“fuck,” he mutters. “good girl.”
he shifts one hand, keeping you lifted with the other, and gets his thumb on your clit.
that’s it. that’s the end of you.
the angle, the pressure, the phone, hajime’s barely contained sounds, issei’s voice talking you through it like he has all the time in the world. it all collapses at once.
you come hard enough that your voice breaks. hard enough that your whole body shakes in his hands, hips jerking uselessly as he keeps you exactly where he wants you. issei talks you through the entire thing, filthy and soft, telling you there you go, that’s it, let him hear you, while hajime swears on the other end like he’s trying not to fall apart too loudly.
issei follows not long after.
he holds you tight, thrusts going uneven, head tipping back with a groan that would be embarrassing if he were capable of shame. he comes deep, still standing at the edge of the bed, hands locked around you like he’s anchoring himself through it.
for a few seconds, no one says anything.
you are wrecked.
hajime is silent.
issei is breathing hard, staring down at where he’s still inside you with a lazy, satisfied look that makes you want to kick him if your legs worked.
then hajime says, flat and disbelieving, “are you fucking serious?”
issei doesn’t miss a beat. “nah. her name isn’t serious.”
hajime hangs up. immediately. the room goes dead quiet.
then you burst into exhausted laughter.
issei looks down at the phone, then at you, completely calm.
“rude.”
“you are the worst person alive.”
“he asked.”
“you are insane.”
“yeah.” he finally eases you back onto the bed with surprising gentleness, one hand sliding under your thigh so you don’t jolt too hard. “you good?”
you blink up at him, sweaty and ruined and still trying to recover from the fact that iwaizumi hajime just got dragged into this ecosystem and absolutely did not leave.
“yeah,” you mumble. “i’m good.”
“yeah?”
“mhm.”
“nice.”
he pulls out carefully, and you make a tiny miserable sound because everything is too much now. he kisses your knee like he’s apologising, which is offensive because he is not sorry.
then he grabs his phone.
you squint at him. “what are you doing?”
“checking if he blocked me.”
“did he?”
a pause. “no.”
“coward.”
“right?”
the phone buzzes once in his hand.
issei reads it and smiles.
“what?”
“iwa says he hates me.”
“you deserve it.”
“he also says to never call him again.”
“you answered his call.”
“i’ll remind him later.”
“don’t.”
“i won’t.”
“you absolutely will.”
“probably.”
you groan and cover your face.
issei tosses the phone aside and pats your thigh.
“okay. shower.”
“don’t boss me around after ruining my life.”
“you’re gross.”
your eyes snap open. “it’s your fault.”
“yeah.” he shrugs, shameless. “still gross.”
“i hate you.”
“no, you don’t.”
“i hate your friends.”
“no, you don’t.”
you stare at him and he grins.
“especially not haji.”
you grab a pillow and throw it at him. he catches it against his chest, laughing, then leans down to kiss your forehead like he has any right to be sweet after all of that.
“come on,” he says. “shower before makki finds out and the group chat becomes unlivable ’cause we left him out.”
when you’re riding tsukki and he won’t shut up about how you’re struggling to take him so you shift forward, fingers tightening around the strong column of his neck. you see his eyes dilate, his breath hitch, all because of your fucking hand around his throat.
you get in close. your breath ghosts over his lips, saccharine smile overtaking your face, "you really think your cock's enough to satisfy me?"
he tries to strangle his groan, but you feel how violently his cock kicks inside your cunt.
"does little tsukki need his senpai to teach him how to fuck?" you lick the hollow of his throat. bite down on his neck. relish in the shudders and moans coming out of the usually sarcastic man. "did they not teach you how to make it fit?"
"what the fuck—"
he bucks his hips up into your slippery, wet heat, letting out a string of curses.
"aww, you mad at me, baby?" you're glad the languorous circles in his lap are driving him crazy. he teases you too often not to get fucked with. "should i call kuroo-san and see if he can pencil in a quick lesson?"
amateur porn star reader and best friend osamu who reader has recruited to help with her career.
when your site started taking off, you immediately thought of osamu to ask for help- he was really good with that tech stuff and you trusted him with everything.
at first, he started behind the camera, managing comments, setting up automatic payment systems, all that jazz, but recently he’s been making guest appearances when the time called.
he’d tie your bonds for you, try out a new paddle gifted by a fan, and he’d even be the lucky guy you got to suck off while your cunt was stuffed by a tip-based dildo machine.
before every show, you and osamu would look through your inbox together, particularly for a comment from who you could call a “generous viewer.” their requests were sometimes extraneous…but it had to be worth the money considering you kept accepting.
so once a week, you see a familiar name pop up in your long list of requests.
it starts off with edging, then overstim, then pet play, step sibling role play, bondage, anal, impact play, etc. at this point, you wondered what even else was there to try?
and of course, osamu is there to help you through it all- strap you up to the spreader, slap you down your sopping cunt, tug at the leash attached to your collar, truly, he is the bestest friend you could have.
and at the end of the day, he’s able to split the profits with you so it’s a win-win for everyone!
and now he gets to go give some of that money to his brother, atsumu, who’s just great at coming up ideas to request from pretty porn stars!
camboy roommate!suna who notices everything. the way you walk around the apartment in those tiny little skim shorts, barely covering the cleft of your asscheeks— and the way your low-cut tank top shifts when you bend down, your tits on full display for him like you’re not even trying to hide it.
it definitely gets in his head, because if you truly weren’t trying to get his attention… you wouldn’t be so careless, right?
camboy roommate!suna who steps out of the shower right as you’re passing by; towel barely secured around his hips, v-line exposed like he didn’t care if you saw. his flushed skin is still damp, droplets of water trailing down his rock-solid abs & you could’ve sworn your brain just malfunctioned. he definitely didn’t miss the way you stared a little too long at the sharp dip of his v-line before quickly turning away.
. . .
one day, you asked camboy roommate!suna if you could borrow his laptop after yours died right before you could submit your uni assignment.
you weren’t snooping… well at least, not intentionally. but the moment you clicked on one of his browser, you instantly froze.
the specific browser was logged into a random porn website, a playback stream paused mid-frame. the preview showed a guy with a black mask covering the top half of his face, legs spread wide— caught mid-stroke with a hand wrapped around his shaft. your breath hitched as you looked closer & that’s when it hit you…
it wasn’t just some random guy. it was him. you’d recognize that ring anywhere; the one he never takes off.
“guess the cat’s out of the bag…” suna drawls, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy smirk plastered onto his face.
you whip your head around so fast at the sound of his voice. he’s standing there in nothing but low-hanging grey sweatpants, arms crossed over his bare chest, fox-like eyes watching you with dark amusement.
“r-rin! uhm i didn’t…” your voice comes out strangled, words catching in your throat as embarrassment creeps in. heat instantly floods your face as you slam the laptop shut like that would somehow erase everything you just saw.
camboy roommate!suna who starts getting bolder after you found out about his secret. throughout the upcoming days, he often leaves his door cracked open during his streams on purpose; knowing you’re probably listening in. his voice drops into that low, raspy tone as he strokes his cock for his viewers— only now he’s moaning just loud enough for you to hear through the thin walls separating your rooms.
camboy roommate!suna who catches you touching yourself one night. you thought you were being subtle, but you didn’t realize just how thin the walls were… or how easily he could hear those soft, breathy moans coming from your room. instead of saying anything right away, he pushes your bedroom door open, eyes hazy with lust as he watches the way your fingers sink in and out of your soaked pussy.
“could’ve just asked me to help, baby,” he murmurs, voice gravelly. “… i’m literally right here.”
camboy roommate!suna who has you on your knees, one hand gripping the back of your head as he slowly eases you down onto his cock. you gag around his shaft, tears welling in your eyes as he holds you there, nose pressed against his pelvis. “f-fuck… yeahh just like that,” he groans, eyes rolling back at the overwhelming sensation.
the sounds of gluk gluk gluk instantly fills the otherwise quiet room.
his abs flexed at the tight pull of your throat, your fingers gripping harder against his muscular thighs as you tried to steady yourself. you fought to keep it together, forcing yourself to take him deeper— but he didn’t let up. even when you gagged, he just exhaled through his teeth.
“… don’t,” he murmurs. “hold it.”
he eventually pulls you off, strings of spit connecting your wet lips to his dick. you gasp for air, drooling messily as your chest heaves, saliva still dripping down your chin while your thighs press together instinctively.
camboy roommate!suna who finally fucks you after weeks of tension. he has you on all fours, pounding into you from behind while he grabs his phone from the nearby desk to capture the sinful act unfolding.
“shitt— you’re so fucking wet,” he groans, rubbing the tip of his cock against your slick folds before slamming back in, making sure the camera catches every little movement. “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”
“a-aah—! rin… nngghh—!” you cry out, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. your hips lifted instinctively to meet his thrusts, moving with him in a frantic rhythm. your body jolts with every snap of his hips, breath stuttering as you struggle to accommodate to his size. “… look at how tight you’re gripping me,” he hisses, angling his phone downwards to capture the way your slick gathers at the base of his cock, a creamy ring forming with every thrust, squelching softly every time he pushes deeper.
camboy roommate!suna who’s got you riding him in reverse, hands gripping your sides as he thrusts up into you relentlessly, making you keep up with his pace. “that’s it… you’re milking me so good,” he coos, eyes fixed on the way you’re taking him. once you start shaking, he reaches below to rub your clit in small circles vigorously. you let out a high-pitched moan when you felt his fingers stimulate your bundle of nerves, biting your lip.
“nghhh rinnie… i-i’m gonna—!” you mewl, voice breaking as your body tenses.
“cum for me, sweetheart. make a mess all over my cock.”
at that, your rhythm breaks completely, hips jerking against his as a needy moan escapes you, gushing around him and soaking his thighs & the sheets.
camboy roommate!suna who pulls out at the last second. he strokes his cock before releasing spurts of warm cum all over your tongue, cheeks & breasts. “… your pussy’s too fuckin’ good,” he hisses, jaw slack as he drains every last drop of his release.
additionally, he rubs the head of his cock against your lips & cheeks, smearing his seed everywhere. “now this is a sight i could get used to…” he muses, fox-like eyes flicking over you with clear satisfaction.
“by the way… what’dya think of being in my next stream?”
being his younger neighbor, knowing that he stares at you when you’re sunning outside, coyly taking off your swimsuit top when you see him watching, tossing it behind your head with a little wave -
“hi, iwa-san!”
you watch for the hard swallow, and yes, instantly, his eyes drop down to your chest and stay there, gaze locked on your nipples so intently that you feel a zip all the way down to your lower belly. a sharp tug so easily stoked into an ache.
(what would iwa-san’s hands feel like on your tits? how would he hold them?)
“it’s hot out today!” you smirk, pointing down at your bare chest. “gotta do what you can to beat the heat.”
for a brief, delicious moment, you see him entertain something in his head. and then he turns around, waving a hand behind him in dismissal.
“creeps live around here, kid. be more careful.”
(he barely makes it inside his front door before freeing his cock and cumming after two fucking strokes, thinking about sucking his own spend off your nipples)
Timeskip!Matsukawa likes to steal your panties —smut, interact at your own risk
“Mattsun! Did you see my underwear? I could’ve sworn I put them in the drawer…”
“Mhh, no I don’t think so. Maybe you put them in the washing machine?”
—7 Hours later
Matsukawa‘s hand wraps around his lace covered cock, sitting on your shared bed with his pants halfway down.
Your essence that was left in the pretty, lace panties you wore today and Matsukawa’s Pre-cum mix against his tip, giving his masturbation session a filthy soundtrack.
“Fuck…,” he swears under his breath, while re-gripping his dick; the soft satin makes his hard to jerk off properly.
You may ask, hey, why is your Boyfriend jerking off when he has sex every night?
The answer is simply and easy: Matsukawa Issei is a massive pervert.
Bondage Kink, Orgasm Denial, Breeding Kink, Sadism, Piss Kink, Humiliation— the list of his Kinks goes on.
So, one of his many Kinks is secretly stealing your used panties, sniffing them and using your discharge as lube to jerk off more comfortably.
His eyes are closed tightly, imagining your curves, your voice and the thought of you wearing this panties before he forces his hand away from his hard, red cock, bringing your panties up to his face.
His left hand pushes the slick fabric to his lips and nose, inhaling your scent while his right hand grips his dick again, continuing jerking himself off.
With your scent in his nose and the satin halfway in his mouth, he cums with a loud groan, shooting his load in his hand, imagining it being your wet, warm mouth or gooey walls.
A few hours later, you find your panties in the laundry basket, completely soaked with…white, sticky liquid?
“Mattsun, what the fuck happened to my 100$ panties?”
His eyes widen innocently, “Baby, I have no idea.”
What a jerk.
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based on this
a/n: English isn’t my first language, criticism is welcomed but please be nice. Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! Do not steal or copy my work.
sendai frogs!tsukki who tells you it’s no problem for you to be in the locker room. You have a feeling it is though, something about the echo of your foot steps just tells you it’s not allowed. Regardless, you listen. You let him drag you into the back, out of view of the door, where the light no longer seeps through, where the two of you are left alone, and tsukki’s hot, and sweaty.
sendai frogs!tsukki who spends just a second assuaging your worries, large bandaged hands cupping your face, thumbs running over your cheeks as he coos as you, pressing kisses to your temples and your forehead. “What’re you worried about?” “‘Told you you’re allowed here, baby.”
sendai frogs!tsukki who puts on the fake-pleading act, who has fun “begging” you to get down on your knees for him, pleading for you to make him feel good, telling you he needs to relieve his stress before he gets on the court again. “Just quick, please.” You can tell he’s only half-playing around, because whenever he gets like this it's only ever half an act.
sendai frogs!tsukki who lets his head fall back when you pull down his shorts, briefs coming with. The elastic bands sit above his knees where you tugged them down to. His cock jumps out to smack against his lower abdomen, wetting the light hairs of his happy trail. His mushroom tip drips with pre cum, angry and red and begging for a warm mouth to home it. Tsukki lets out a little moan through his gritted teeth. “Fuck yes..”
sendai frogs!tsukki who groans loudly at the feeling of your mouth, tossing his head back as you lave your tongue over the tip, mouth molding around the width of his length. “That’s it…you do it good for me..fuck..”
sendai frogs!tsukki who can’t stop himself from putting a hand in your hair, his grip firm yet comforting. He curses when you throat him deeper, hips stuttering once as he forces himself to watch you take him, panting hard. “Pretty..”
sendai frogs!tsukki who can’t hold back from pushing you down on him, gasping when you choke on his length, the pulse of restriction around his cockhead brushing along all his glands, wet and squishy. “Sh-shit, baby that feel’s fucking good…” “You love this, yeah?” “You take dick so good..” he rambles, hips twitching into your mouth before he finally gives into what he wants. He tightens his grip on your hair before snapping his hips into your mouth, fucking it like you were a toy, one that drooled and whined and rolled it’s eyes back—one that got off on this as much as he was. He groans at the way drool spills out the corners of your mouth, moving your head to meet his thrusts. “I—god, you think this is so hot, huh?” “You like sucking on your boyfriend’s cock before he has to play, hm?” “In the locker room when his teammates are all outside…’you think they know you’re such a slut for me..?”
sendai frogs!tsukki who whimpers when he gets close. He whines through choked moans and pants asking if you’ll take it, take his load all over your face and lick it up after. “Aagh..fuck..’close..” “Baby—baby..I wanna cum on that pretty face…please..fuck!”
sendai frogs!tsukki who moans loudly at the sight of you on your knees, eyes fluttering up at him with your pink tongue out, shiny and coated with saliva. He jerks off in front of your face, his fist fast and desperate. The sound is erotic, the slap and slick of skin rubbing fills the locker room, your tongue twitches in anticipation before Tsukki lets out a final groan. White ropes shoot onto your face, running over your cheeks as he continues to jerk himself off through it. He milks himself from the base to the tip, moaning and praising you as the last few drops land on your tongue. “Shit…take it…so good for me..”
sendai frogs!tsukki who’s face flushes as he stares at you. You’re pretty and panting and totally coated with cum, sitting there waiting for him to say something. He chuckles when you show off his cum on your tongue before finally swallowing. “Dirty girl.” He huffs, amused. Tsukki swipes some off your cheek using his thumb, before shoving it into your mouth, biting his lip at the way you make a show of licking it off his finger.
sendai frogs!tsukki who tells you to just wait here, that he's gonna help you get all clean again, before padding off to wet a few napkins. When he comes back he finds you there, messy and waiting, twiddling your thumbs out of boredom. He hums contentedly as he wipes the cum off your face, relishing at the way you lean into his touch and let him. “There we go, all proper again.” He teases, eyes crinkling with a smile as he meets back up your grin. Tossing the napkins he ruffles your hair.
“C’mon, your boyfriend plays soon,” “You gotta cheer,” he winks.
I said it before and I’ll say it again, Iwaizumi loves Hyperfeminine women. He loves it when you dress up all cute, wearing cute pumps, high heels or ballerinas and beautiful tops. It makes him feel strong and ‘masculine’ when you look like a Doll. He loves secretly sniffing at your expensive shampoo, watching you doing your hair and makeup. And of course Hajime loves spending money on you, no matter if it’s your nails, shoes, clothes or jewelry.
You two just make the perfect couple!
2. Hanamaki Takahiro — Older women
Hanamaki loves older women (preferably without kids, but it wouldn’t be a problem for him). He loves the experience you have, the way you know exactly what you want and need and take it. Hanamaki is super kinky and into almost everything…but something about getting dominated by an older woman is getting him off like nothing else. The confidence you have in yourself, knowing exactly what you expect from him in bed and outside and how you know exactly how hot you are- It just turns him on in a way younger girls can’t.
(I think that as Hanamaki gets older, he prefers younger women tho lol).
3. Oikawa Tōru — Mean Girls
I think this one is pretty obvious; Oikawa’s best friend is Iwaizumi so, of course he wants someone who tells him his honest opinion, no matter if it hurts. It turns him on when you down right tell other men to fuck off, when you judge him whenever he does something stupid or that one time when you met Hanamaki and he looked at a girl’s butt in a weird way and you called him out on it. You’re obviously never mean without reason and a total Girls Girl, for sure! But when someone does you or others wrong, you have absolutely no shame to be the meanest bitch.
Of course, Oikawa has a massive Degradation Kink, so you truly are the perfect match!
4. Mattsukawa Issei — Elegant Women
Mattsukawa is so in love with the way you hold yourself and the clothes you wear; everything about you is so elegant, so perfect. Your modest dresses and pretty heels, the sophisticated words you use (that he had no idea existed) and the way your perfume smells like Flowers and Vanilla, it all draws him into you. But, honestly, how couldn’t he? You’re such a goddess and soo out of his league, he’s truly lucky to be your partner. Your expensive taste obviously makes its way to the bedroom as well; Lingerie, Bondage, Submission— Mattsukawa is up to everything.
(He loves to steal your expensive lace panties and jerk himself off with them).
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a/n: English isn’t my first language, criticism is welcomed but please be nice. Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! Do not steal or copy my work.
when he signs up to go to the gym, you think that is normal, he’s looking out for his health. but when he stops baking sweet desserts and follows diets that weird gymbro’s post on the internet, you start to worry.
“samu, i’m really in the mood to devour a brownie” you huff, plopping down on the couch next to him, your knee brushing against his.
“can’t you buy one? if i bake one, i might want to eat it, but i can’t” he rests his arm over your shoulders. you frown, “what?”. you arch an eyebrow at his lack of response and he sighs. “i want to stay in shape, y’know? i’m turning 31 this year”
you blink. unbelievable. your eyes check him out — defined biceps, abs that lay underneath his loose shirt, beefy thighs and long legs that make him huge. “samu… are you doing drugs?”
he snorts and gives you a playful nudge with his elbow before you speak again. “i’m serious — dead serious — when i say you’re the hottest man alive”
“that’s jacob elordi, sweetheart” he retorts amused and you hold back a laugh, “shut up. i’m saying that you’re handsome, the handsomest actually”
he caresses your waist when you climb onto his lap, “just saying. i’m getting old, i just… don’t want you to dislike me”
that was the last straw.
you’re riding him harsh and sloppy, the recently bought couch cracking beneath your bodies. your nails scratch his biceps as you moan loudly, his hips jerking up to meet your tight pussy deliciously. he’s sooo desperate, thrusting into you only to see how your back arches. only to see how your dazed eyes look down at him through long lashes — adoring him, almost.
“you’re so fucking hot” your words are a mere breath. your eyes roll back in pleasure when he grips your butt, slamming you down. “you think so?” in another point, maybe he would’ve sounded cocky - but right now osamu only needs approval from you. you moan loudly and crash your lips against his. is wild and feral, a nasty display of love and lust.
you finish around him and he swallows the cute noses you make right before. you clench, your walls milking him, begging for his thick cum as if you needed it to breath. of course, he can’t deny you anything, so he spills into you with every inch buried inside that sweet hole.
you pant against his chest, hugging him tightly (in both senses) and with sweat covering your bodies. you giggle when you say, “see? the fat ones are even better”
you grin when his cock twitches inside you.
. . . took so long w this request im so so sorry, hope you like it! taglist: @qrxswan
Pervroommate!Ushijima, who’s routine is waking up early in the morning to cook breakfast for you, while being rock hard because he couldn’t stop thinking about last night where he overheard you moaning off your vibrator.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who needs to take care of his situation so he decides to add an “extra” ingredient to your drink. He knows it’s a disgusting act, but he can’t help himself.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who brings you the food and watches you drink up the milkshake. “What did you put in here? It tastes different?” You say. Ushijima freezing up, acting quickly to make an excuse.
PervRoommate!Ushijima making a perfect excuse, “It’s my secret ingredient. A good cook never tells his secrets.” With a sheepish smile. You, who believes it, don’t think much of it since he’s perfect and does everything for you.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who freaks out when you ask him to continue adding it, exclaiming that it tastes amazing. Not that he’s complaining or anything, he enjoys watching you slurp up all the cum filled milkshake unknowingly.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who does the laundry everyday, notices a pair of lacy pink lingerie panties with a stain of your own arousal.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who closes the door and locks it, slowly walking over to the pink panties and leaning down to pick it up. As he picks it up, he double checks to see if he locks the door and brings the panties up to his nose to sniff.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who almost cums just from the salty, sweet smell that your panties captured straight from your soft pussy.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who unzips his pants to jerk off with the pink panties, stuffing it at the tip of his hard erected dick, while beads precum leak from the top through the pink panties.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who brings the panties up to his mouth and nose, while jerking off. The sweet smell making him cum immediately.
PervRoommate!Ushijima, starting from this day, steals your used panties and makes more excuses to do the laundry more often.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who does your laundry and jerks off to the smell of your arousal once again and grunts out your name. “F-fuck y/nnn.. I’m gonna cum, i wish it was you I was fucking into..”. You, who overhears this, instantly becomes wet, because how could your serious, strong, dominant roommate be whining out your name like a dog in heat?
PervRoommate!Ushijima who overhears you rubbing your clit in your room and making cute sounds. Ushijima, who is walking over to your room, dick bulging, unzips his pants right outside the door while watching you through the space between the wall and door. He strokes his cock only a few times before cumming all over his hand.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who jumps up from shock as he hears your moans call out for him. You couldn’t possibly be masturbating to Ushijima, your perverted roommate?
PervRoommate!Ushijima who almost dies inside when he looks up and sees you looking straight at him through the door. “Ushi, dont just stand -mphm!- there. W-wanna help me?” You ask whimpering.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who starts freaking out and keeps pinching himself to make sure this isn’t a dream.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who plunges his dick inside you immediately while folding you in half, moaning and grunting into your neck, leaving bite marks too. “F-fuck y/n.. i’ve been dreaming of this for so looong..” he moans out, rubbing your clit. “Ushii, i’ve been wai-hic!-ting for this too.. ive been hump-hic!-ing your pillow while you’ve been gone..! nghh!”
PervRoommate!Ushijima who soon realizes that you too, are a pervert like him.
a/n: kinda rushed, but i love my baby ushijima sooo here you guys go 💕
iwaizumi x reader x oikawa (degradation, established relationship, threesome’s, sweet oikawa, dom iwaizumi) mdni
you’ve always been a pillow princess at heart. which was just another reason why oikawa was a perfect partner. so attending and giving, feeding into your every desire and plea without a second of denial. thats why you were so willing to oblige when he asked if you’d want a threesome with his friend, because he always took such good care of you.
but boy- you were wrong about the idea of iwaizumi
“sir- hah. mm so’tired. can’t-“ you babble into iwaizumi’s neck. your thighs burn with the continued bouncing you’re doing on his lap. his cock thick and long, making it especially difficult to lift yourself high enough off every time. iwa makes a small tsk noise at you. leaning back and raising an eyebrow. he grabs your hips and forces you up straight.
“you spoil her, kawa’. look at her. poor baby, tired from just a little work.” he chides. relishing in the way you preen and dive your face deeper against his chest. he sucks his teeth and only pulls you up, the burn in your muscles making you whine.
“never have to work for anything, huh sweetheart.” he shakes his head in disapproval. “please, mm. help” you ask. using his shoulders as leverage as you keep trying, the useless thing you are. all spent and full of another mans dick. your boyfriend watches from a chair across the room. stroking himself with such fervor at the sight of you both. he only sighs at his friends diss towards him.
when you stop moving again, you’re only met with a sharp sting and a palm imprint on the round of your ass and a curt, “move.” prompting you to lean back and bare your chest to him. breathing heavily and moaning with each small movement.
“slutty baby, look at you. show me you deserve to be fucked, show me how wrecked you are on your boyfriends friends cock.”
snippets of living with the great kuroo tetsuro 😼 (note : nsfw for some!)
[ @gardengargoyle '26] aaaah biggest loser account award goes to me !!!! sorry if i take months to post 💔 anyway, here goes nothing ! @cursed-carmine for the divider
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 140 FOLLOWERS !!!! i appreciate it so much despite the slow updates ☹️
Warning ﹕college au , fingering , edging , orgasm denial , degradation , semi-public sex , mild choking
This was so fucking embarrassing. No—forget embarrassing. It was humiliating.
It was the third time this week.
The third time you’d found yourself sitting at the back of your professor’s lecture, cheeks flushed red, legs pressed tightly together in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing ache between them. Your mind drifting to thoughts that had no place in a classroom.
The thoughts in question? Nothing too innocent. Just your brain replaying the memory of a certain smug blonde bastard bending you over his desk like a cheap whore, and pounding that dripping pussy raw from behind.
The echoes of your pathetic sobs and broken pleas for mercy still rang in your ears—mixed with the wet, obscene sound of his hips slapping against your ass. You squeezed your thighs harder, feeling a fresh gush of slick soak your panties as your face flushed even hotter.
A frustrated sigh slipped from your lips as your eyes dropped to the notebook in front of you. It had remained untouched since the start of the lecture. Only the date and today’s topic stared back at you mockingly, as if reminding you that all that “studying” you’d been doing with Tsukishima was anything but academic.
Because instead of helping you with your weakest subjects, Kei had spent most of the time balls-deep in your cunt, fucking your brains out until you couldn’t even remember your own name.
He loved belittling you while he did it too—calling you his dumb little cockslut, mocking how the only thing you seemed to understand anymore was how to take his thick cock like a good girl instead of actually passing your classes.
And those long, slender fingers of his… the ones that always made your pussy flutter no matter what they were doing… they’d wrap so perfectly around your throat, squeezing just tight enough to make your greedy walls clamp down on his dick even harder.
Fuck. It left you weak in the knees every single time.
But who could really blame you? He was just that damn good at dicking you down. If anyone else knew what you got to experience on a daily basis, they’d probably understand. Not that you’d ever let them find out. Over your dead body. You weren’t quite set on sharing just yet.
Just as your mind started spiralling deeper into those dirty thoughts, the loud ring of the bell snapped you out of it, signalling the end of the lecture. You let out a shaky sigh of relief and started packing up your things.
Until your professor’s cold voice cut through the room:
“Stay behind for a moment.”
Yeah. you were totally fucked now.
The conversation that followed was exactly as painful as you’d feared. Your professor spoke firmly, almost coldly, pointing out your obvious lack of attention in his class and the sudden drop in your grades. You barely registered the rest of what he said. The only part that really stuck was his final warning: get your head out of the clouds and start paying attention again.
Which brought you to now—sitting at the back of the campus library with the exact person who’d been plaguing your filthy thoughts even worse than usual.
Books were spread out in front of you, a few highlighters and sticky notes scattered around, your pen gripped tightly in your trembling hand as you let out a loud, frustrated groan.
“Ugh… I don’t fucking get any of this shit.”
You grumbled, letting your head drop heavily onto the table in defeat.
Kei sat beside you, watching with that signature shit-eating grin plastered across his stupidly handsome face. You’d specifically told him you wanted to actually study this time—no messing around. He’d just shrugged with that infuriating smirk and muttered a lazy “Sure.”
“Tsukki… please be a decent human being and explain this to me…” You turned your head to look at him, eyes taking in how focused he appeared. “You’re smart. You’d get this way better than I do.”
He hummed softly, resting his cheek on his palm as he stared down at you with that unreadable expression.
“Why? Because you’re slow?”
You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Hah! You wish. Need I remind you I’m doing great in all my other classes?”
A proud little smirk tugged at your lips.
“Right,” he drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like your professor didn’t just tell you you’re failing his class.”
“I’m not failing! My grades are just slipping, that’s all…”
“Right. So, technically failing.”
“Shut the hell up.”
You scoffed and sat up straighter, running a hand through your hair, annoyance clear on your face. “So, are you gonna help me or not?”
He smirked wider, his free hand patting his lap invitingly.
You deadpanned, letting out a heavy sigh. “Are you already forgetting what I said? We’re not doing this today, Kei. Come on.”
You muttered, looking back down at your notes. You heard the soft click of his tongue.
“Come on, don’t be so difficult. Just come sit on my lap.”
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously before sighing in defeat. “Fine. But no funny business.”
Yeah, right. Like that promise was ever going to last.
You stood up slowly and lowered yourself onto his lap, your notebook still in front of you, pen in hand. “Alright, Mr. Know-It-All. Help me.”
Kei leaned forward immediately, his broad chest pressing firmly against your back. His hot breath ghosting over your ear as his large hand slid down to rest on your thigh, rubbing slow, teasing circles that felt far too innocent for him.
But you knew better. Nothing with Tsukishima was ever innocent.
Your breath hitched sharply, your body tensing as heat flooded between your legs.
“… Kei…” you whimpered pathetically.
His low chuckle vibrated against your back.
“What? I’m not doing anything… yet,” he murmured, voice dark and filthy in your ear.
Before you could protest, his long, slender fingers slipped under your skirt, casually pushing your soaked panties to the side. Without warning, he slid two thick fingers deep into your dripping cunt, curling them perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you.
“Just don’t mind me…” he whispered teasingly, pumping his fingers slowly, stretching your tight, gummy walls. “Only keep those pretty eyes focused on that textbook of yours…”
You couldn’t focus on the textbook in front of you no matter how hard you tried. Your hands trembled pathetically, barely able to grip the pen as your eyes glazed over with unshed tears from the overwhelming pleasure of Tsukishima’s long fingers stretching your dripping cunt so perfectly.
A broken gasp slipped from your lips when he slid a third finger inside you, slowly sinking into your soaked, greedy walls. Your back arched sharply, another needy whine escaping before you could stop it. Tsukishima drank in the sight of you struggling to stay quiet, his golden eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as your thighs quivered violently and your hips bucked desperately against his hand with every slow, deliberate thrust.
You were trying—god, you were really trying—to keep quiet.
But Tsukishima had no intention of letting you succeed.
He curled his fingers with cruel precision, stroking that spongy, sensitive spot deep inside you until a deep, throaty whine tore from your chest. A low, breathy chuckle rumbled against your ear as he leaned in closer, pressing his chest flush against your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his voice dropping into a sinful, velvet whisper.
“Come on now, gorgeous…” he purred, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You know you need to focus, don’t you?”
You whimpered helplessly, your pussy clenching greedily around his invading fingers. Your entire body tensed as he pushed even deeper, grinding the heel of his palm firmly against your swollen clit. Your mouth fell open in a silent, desperate cry, breath hitching in your throat.
“You wouldn’t want your professor failing you,” he murmured, voice thick with mocking amusement, “just because your tiny little brain can’t concentrate with my fingers buried knuckle-deep in your messy cunt, hmm?”
His pace was torturously slow and teasing, deliberately bringing you right to the edge of ecstasy only to pull you back again and again. The wet, obscene sounds of your arousal echoed softly in the room—filthy, slick, and shameless.
Your head lolled back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the relentless pleasure he was forcing upon you.
Tsukishima’s free hand slid up your body, long fingers wrapping possessively around your throat—not squeezing, just holding you in place, a silent reminder of who was in control. He nipped at your earlobe, then soothed the sting with his tongue.
“Listen to how wet you are,” he whispered hotly, deliberately pumping his fingers a little faster so the lewd squelching sounds grew louder. “You’re making such a mess… and all because of three fingers? Pathetic.”
broken sob of pleasure escaped you as he suddenly scissored his fingers wide, stretching you open even more. Your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.
He laughed softly, the sound dark and mocking. “Look at you. Can’t even sit still. How are you going to pass this class if you can’t stop creaming all over my hand?”
You tried to protest, to tell him you were trying, but all that came out was a high-pitched moan when he curled his fingers again, pressing hard against that perfect spot while his palm continued its merciless grind against your throbbing clit.
Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly, burning hotter with every thrust. Your thighs shook uncontrollably, muscles clenching as you teetered right on the edge once more. Just as you felt the first tremors of release beginning to crash over you, Tsukishima slowed his movements to an agonizing crawl, barely moving his fingers at all.
A frustrated cry tore from your throat. “K-Kei… please—”
“Please what?” he taunted, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck. His breath was hot against your flushed skin. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what this needy little pussy wants.”
You whimpered, too far gone to feel any shame. “Please… let me cum. I can’t— I need it—”
He hummed thoughtfully, as if considering your plea, while continuing those shallow, unsatisfying thrusts that kept you dangling painfully on the brink.
“Mmm… I don’t know,” he drawled, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “You still haven’t read a single page. Maybe if you can recite the next paragraph without moaning like a whore, I’ll think about it.”
His fingers gave one firm, deep thrust, punching the air from your lungs.
“Or maybe…” He leaned in even closer, lips brushing your ear as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “I’ll just keep edging this sloppy cunt until you’re crying and begging so prettily that everyone in the library can hear how much of a desperate slut you are for me.”
Your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers at his filthy words, another flood of arousal gushing out around his hand. Tsukishima groaned softly in approval, finally starting to move again—still torturously slow, but with just enough pressure to make your vision blur with overwhelming pleasure.
Then, finally. he gave it to you.
He thrusted his fingers in hard and fast, curling them perfectly—and you broke.
Your back arched sharply, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. Your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers at the filthy words still echoing in your mind, another flood of arousal gushing out around his hand. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, hips grinding helplessly down on his fingers as your body convulsed with pleasure.
Tsukishima groaned lowly behind you, the sound deep and almost proud, as he kept his fingers buried deep inside your fluttering cunt, drawing out every last tremor.
“Look at you…” he muttered, slowly pulling his slick fingers out, deliberately watching the way your thighs twitched and your pussy clenched around nothing. “You made such a fucking mess.”
He clicked his tongue, holding up his glistening fingers with a smug grin.
“Just had to cum all over my hand like that, didn’t you?”
He gently rubbed your back, almost mockingly sweet, like he hadn’t just fingered you into a blubbering mess in the middle of the goddamn library.
It was safe to say the only lesson you walked out with… was how Tsukishima's fingers were way more skilled than any professor’s lecture could ever be.
Fr𖹭m yours truly ﹕my brain fucking hurts jst by staring at this, i cant even be bothered to explain to u all how much I love Tuskishima and how hes my husband and shit BC of how long this took me. im telling you ive proof read it over 10 whole times (not kidding by the way I always always ALWAYS proof read my work more than once jst in case) but literally gave up by the time I reached the end ao ykw if it doesnt make sense half way through jst know I gave up and couldn't be asked to go back and change it honestly ts took me and embarrassingly long time (it took me a day and a half to finish) since it was an adaption of one of my other works from a diff platform. But enough of me bitching jst know that I rlly did try with this....
SEDUCE YOUR WAY THROUGH ! — kyotani kentaro. MINORS DNI.
cw: rockstar!reader, dealer!kyotani, drugs, dirty talk, basically you letting dealer!kyotani fuck for free drugs, degradation (?)
“That was absolute shit,” you snarled, raking a hand through your sweat soaked hair. The roar of the crowd was still a phantom echo in your ears as you slammed the door to the cramped backstage room, the flimsy metal shuddering in its frame.You paced the small space, your boots scuffing on the sticky floor.
Hanamaki, lounging on the couch with a lazy grace that always pissed you off, didn't even look up from his phone. “It was a sold out show, and they were chanting for an encore. You're being dramatic.”
“Dramatic? Makki, I fucked up the bridge in 'Wraith'! I could hear it, you could hear it, the whole damn city probably heard it! We sounded like a garage band having a seizure!”
You hated this. The post show crash was a bitch, and without anything to take the edge off, it was a thousand times worse.
“you're a perfectionist rockstar. You always think it's shit,” he said, finally pocketing his phone and looking at you “It was fine. You were electric. Now, what's really wrong?”
You stopped pacing and slumped against the wall, sliding down to sit on the grimy floor. “I'm out,” you whispered, “Completely. And I'm broke until the promoter clears the payout.”
Makki's expression softened slightly. “Ah. Shit. What happened to your boy? The one with the pretty face?”
“Arrested. Some big bust downtown. Cops raided his apartment while he was probably organizing his sock drawer by color or some shit. And now I'm fucked. He always gave me a discount on good stuff, you know? Said my eyes were ‘captivating’.” You rolled your eyes so hard you almost gave yourself a headache. “Easy target. But now I've got nothing.”
Kuroo was a good target. You had no idea why that nerd even selled those, but at least it was easier to seduce him. Bat your pretty eyelashes at him? 50% discount. Show your cleavage a little or cross your arms around your chest? Totally free.
Makki was quiet for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “I might have someone. A guy. Not.. not like your pretty boy, though. I could request to lower the prices, no idea if he'll listen.”
You perked up, a desperate glimmer of hope cutting through your misery. “yeah? Who?”
“Name's Mad Dog.”
You snorted. “Mad Dog? What is he, a professional wrestler?”
“Something like that,” Makki said, a smirk playing on his lips. “He's the real deal. No discounts, no bullshit. But top-tier stuff, i don’t think he’s gonna fall for your tricks.”
A challenge. That was something you could work with. A slow grin spread across your face, the first genuine one all night. “Oh yeah? We'll see about that.”
Makki laughed, a deep, knowing sound. “i bet you a hundred bucks you walk out of there with a free sample and your panties still twisted in a knot.”
"You're on, Hanamaki. You're on."
The next evening, you found yourself standing in front of a derelict warehouse down by the docks, the salt heavy air clinging to your leather jacket. Makki's text had been simple: ‘Warehouse 7. He’s not lowering the prices but good luck trying.’
The metal door groaned as you pushed it open, stepping into the cavernous, dust choked space. Shafts of dying light pierced through grimy windows, illuminating floating particles and the silhouette of a man leaning against a concrete pillar.
Holy shit.
He was tall, all lean muscle and coiled tension. A shock of bleached blond hair with two stark black stripes above his ears. He wore a simple black tank top that showcased his inked arms, one of which was a full sleeve of intricate, snarling dogs. His eyes, when they lifted to meet yours, were a startling, intense gold. They weren't pretty like your previous one, they were hot.
“You Makki's friend?”His voice was a low gravel, rough and unused to pleasantries.
“The one and only,” you replied, your voice coming out smoother than you expected. You walked closer, your hips swaying just slightly. “You must be Mad Dog.”
You stopped a few feet from him, tilting your head to get a better look at the tattoo on his forearm. “Sick ink. That's a lot of dogs.”
“it’s a pack.”
“Right, a pack.” you say leaning against the piller, “So what’s on the menu, Mad dog? I need something to smooth the edge off.”
He shifted his weight, his business like mask sliding into place. “Depends what you're looking to smooth. For a clean, floaty high, I've got some prime ketamine. Special K. Two-fifty a gram. Dissolves the world right out from under you, no comedown to speak of. Good for when you just want to fucking disappear for a couple hours.”
You listened, feigning casual interest while your mind raced. Ketamine was a hole, not a solution.
“If you need to get up and stay up,” he continued, his voice flat, “I've got uncut base. Not that stepped on crap most people are selling. This is pure, crystalline. It'll turn your brain into a high voltage wire and keep you humming for a day. Easy. Three hundred a gram, but it'll last you. Makes you feel like a god, until you don't.”
“Two-fifty for K? Three hundred for base?” You let out a low whistle, shaking your head. “That's highway robbery, Mad Dog. I know what this shit goes for on the street.”
His gold eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I don't sell street shit. I sell purity. You want stepped on garbage, go find some punk in an alley. You want the best, you pay my price. End of story.”
You pushed off the pillar, taking a deliberate step closer. “That's a shame,” you purred, letting your eyes drift down his body before meeting his intense gaze again. “I was hoping we could... come to some other arrangement.”
As you spoke, you crossed your arms beneath your breasts, pushing them up slightly. His eyes flickered down for just a second before catching himself. Gotcha.
“i don't fuck for product, lady,” he growled, his voice even rougher than before.
“Who said anything about fucking?” You moved into his personal space, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear. “Maybe because you're thinking about it.”
Your hand flattened against his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart beneath your palm. Slowly, deliberately, you slid it lower, over the hard planes of his stomach. His breath hitched.
“Don't,” he warned, but it was weak, half hearted.
You smirked against his ear. “Don't what?” Your fingers danced along the waistband of his jeans. ”Don't stop?”
“Fuck,” he breathed, his head tilting back slightly. “Don't stop.” You palmed him through the denim, feeling him twitch and harden beneath your touch.
“Look at you, Mad Dog,” you taunted softly, your thumb rubbing circles over his growing erection. “All tough talk, but you're just like any other guy. Ready to trade your precious product for a little attention.” Your hand squeezed him gently.
His eyes snapped open, burning with fury. “What did you just—”
Whatever he was about to say dissolved into a groan as your hand moved faster, stroking him inside his jeans with practiced precision.
His hips bucked involuntarily, chasing your touch. The anger in his expression warred with pure, unadulterated lust. You could see the internal battle playing out across his features.
“God, you're—” he started, his voice strained.
Before he could finish, you pulled away abruptly, turning your back to him. You glanced over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips as you bent forward slightly, presenting your ass to him. "Cat got your tongue?"
That was all it took. In a flash, he was behind you, his hands rough as they grabbed your hips, fumbling with your button and zipper. Your jeans pooled around your ankles along with his a moment later. The cool air hit your exposed skin for only a second before the hot, thick head of his cock was pressing against your entrance.
“Changed my mind,” he growled in your ear. “I'll take what I want.”
He slammed into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. “Ah—fuck!” you cried out, your hands flying out to brace against the concrete pillar. He was bigger than you'd expected, stretching you deliciously, painfully.
His rhythm was punishing from the start, hard, deep strokes that had your whole body jolting forward with each thrust. One hand remained on your hip, holding you in place while the other snaked around to rub rough circles against your clit. Your knees went weak, pleasure coiling tight in your belly.
“You like that, don't you?” he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. “Like being fucked like the little tease you are.”
His hand moved up from your clit to roughly palm your breast, pinching your nipple through your thin shirt.
“So desperate for a fix you'd bend over for a stranger in a warehouse.”
“Yes—yes,” you moaned, pushing back against him. “Harder!”
His cock was better than any drugs you’d taken.
He obliged, his hips snapping faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the cavernous space. His fingers twisted your nipple harder, sending a jolt straight to your core. “That's it, take it. Take every fucking inch.”
The dual sensations of him pounding into you from behind while his hands worked your body sent you spiraling toward the edge. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your moans growing louder, more desperate.
“please—please” you begged, not even sure what you were asking for.
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice strained. “Come all over my cock like the desperate little thing you are.”
That was all it took. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as pleasure washed through every nerve. “Ah—Mad dog!” you screamed, his name tearing from your throat without permission.
Your walls clenching around him seemed to be his undoing. With a guttural groan, he pulled out, and you felt hot stripes of cum painting your ass cheeks. Painting your cheeks with white liquid, he stood there for a moment, panting heavily while he adored his work on you.
The only sound in the warehouse your ragged breaths.
As you were still catching your breath, you heard the crinkle of foil. He pressed a small packet into your hand. You looked down at it, then back at him.
“i didn't say which one I wanted,” you pointed out, your voice hoarse.
A smirk touched his lips. “I can tell.”
You opened the packet to find a crystalline white powder. Exactly what you needed to smooth the edge after a show like tonight's. Exactly what your inclined ass needed.
“This is the last time,” he said, already pulling his jeans back up. “Next time im charging you.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at this, another challenge. “We’ll see.” you say, winking at him.
But you were still shaking as you pulled up your own pants, your legs feeling like jelly.
This Mad Dog guy had completely destroyed you. but hey at least you got free drugs and you’re hundred bucks richer now.
Dilf kuroo who is just sooooo charming and nice and such a good mentor and role model and just so nice to you, he seems so inoffensive, like a really good friend, you don’t even realize his intentions and next thing you know he is a bit too close, you let your guard down and suddenly you are stumbling the genkkan with him on you
yes. dilf!kuroo. i need that.
— content warning: smut, dilf!kuroo tetsurou x fem reader, age gap (reader in their late 20s, kuroo in his 40s), unprotected sex, praise (him calling you a good girl), breeding | MINORS DNI
dilf!kuroo is a different breed. and by that i mean he does it well.
dilf!kuroo is such a strong, reliable person and he's always charming, looking more handsome than ever everytime you see him. he pats your head and murmurs a good girl everytime he mentors you at your job, and honestly, there's nothing wrong about that, right? just a simple, platonic hug as he leaves and a little kiss on your forehead doesn't hurt anybody.
dilf!kuroo who teases you that he's twice your age and always points out how you look good whenever you wear sundresses to work. you think he's just complimenting you, but the bulge in his pants says otherwise. he's extra careful hiding it the moment you two are left alone in his office, his jet black hair and stubble now sprinkled with white streaks as you look up at him, asking a question he's barely understanding, too distracted by how perfect and beautiful and how much younger you are.
dilf!kuroo, you noticed, has been closer to you more recently, the slight touches of your hands and shoulders don't go unnoticed, like he's always trying to hold you in subtle ways yet fails as you catch on. you're not one to admit, but it riles you up seeing his eyes twinkle and arms always reaching out for you, albeit unnecessary, everytime you're close to him.
dilf!kuroo who lets things escalate as he confesses one time out of need. out of desperation. he says you're too pretty to let the opportunity pass, that he's gonna be older by the time he'd get in your pants. that he needs you more than anything right now and you might not understand.
dilf!kuroo who's now stumbling with you at his genkkan, shoes off, carrying you bridal style as he kisses you, his feet trying not to fall on the stairs as he brings you to his bedroom wafting with his smell, woody and earthy. his pants is rolled down and your panties are shoved to the side as he fucks into you, his length overwhelmingly good it wrangles out a hoarse moan from you, repeating his name over and over again like a prayer. no one has ever fucked you the way he does, it's like your pussy's made all for him. his hands are holding your thighs firmly, folding you to a mating press, grunting at every clench of your walls and at the sounds of your sex it drives him insane.
dilf!kuroo who you beg to breed you, that you trust him enough to stuff you with his cum, that you'll be a good girl for him when he does. he cradles you as his hips thrust deeply for the last time, cock throbbing as he plants his seed inside you. he pulls out just to watch how his essence trickles down your folds, his thumb reaching out to push all of it back into you, whispering praises in your ear as he does. after all, you've been a good girl for him, right?
Timeskip!Bokuto x Journalist!reader x Timeskip!Atsumu
Post game threesome
—smut, interact at your own risk
You’re on your knees in the MSBY Locker Room, your pretty uniform halfway taken off of you. Bokuto’s big hands are on your hips, while his even bigger cock slams in and out of you, a wet ‘squelch, squelch’ echoing through the room.
His golden eyes are closed and he moans, “Such a good girl- so fucking tight,“ while hitting your g-spot twice.
Meanwhile at the other end of you, your plump lips are closed around Atsumu’s dick, his hand on the back of your head, guiding you to take him deeper and deeper.
Atsumu grins, watching you struggling to push his big dick down your throat.
“Aw, look at ya,” he fake pouts and pats your head paternally, “You’re even prettier with a mouthful of cock, who would’ve thought?”
Bokuto laughs loudly and bottoms out before plunging back into your gooey warmth. Fat tears run down your cheeks and destroy your pretty makeup, mixing with your saliva and Bokuto’s cum, from the round before.
You look up at Atsumu, a pretty groan escaping his lips as your tongue makes out with his dick, while Bokuto’s hands pull you back to his pelvis. You whimper softly as Atsumu begins to pull at your hair, a sign he’s almost there.
“Fuck yes…that’s good- so good,” he pants, before pulling out and finishing on your face, like Bokuto before him. White ropes of cum hit your face, slowly beginning to drip down your chin and lips, making you look even messier.
Atsumu smiles satisfied and leans back at the wall of the locker room, totally spent. His broad chest heaves and falls, abs glittering with sweat. You two make eye contact, before your head falls to his abs and your hands hold his thighs for stability.
Bokuto groans behind you, “I’m so close- say my name, pretty.”
You whimper against Atsumu’s abs, “B-Bokuto-san!” and the man’s head falls back, his face twisting into a desperate expression-
You feel the warmth of his seed getting shot deep inside you with a loud groan, his cock slowly softening.
He pulls out and grins widely. “That was awesome! Let’s do it again some time!”
Usually, this is a polite way to say, ‘It was nice, but never again’, but with Bokuto you’re sure he means it.
Atsumu smiles sleazily from the bench and he gently lifts your chin with his pointer finger.
“I think ya have enough material for your article now. Or do ya need me to call Kiyoomi and Shoyo?”
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a/n: English isn’t my first language, criticism is welcomed but please be nice. Likes, Comments and Reblogs are highly appreciated! Do not steal or copy my work.
